#every day i stare at my sketchbook as i sit and work on Not Anything In There 😔 soon though | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mandy-asimp · 8 months ago

Text

Needed me

Emily Prentiss x fashion designer!reader (they/them)

Warnings: angst, fluff, happy ending

A/n: they dragging babygirl through hell this season 😔

"I'm sorry, but she is not my responsibility anymore. I can't be there to tell her it's going to be ok when she couldn't do that for me." They grumbled as they sat across from Rossi.

He sighed, "she's dealing with a lot."

"And I wasn't?" They didn't let him get further. "I get that you all are going to support her, she's your teammate. But you all didn't know her as your fiancé. The absolute love of your life who for the love of fucks, left you at your lowest."

The old man wasn't going to give up. He believed that there was still apart of them that would cave. "Y/n, you know I wouldn't have flown out here if I didn't think it was serious. She needs you."

It was them who sighed now. Standing up from the table. Leaning across to kiss the old man's cheek. "I'm sorry Dave. Unless she is at the point of tears and just giving up, I will not be roped back into it. Not again. I deserve better. I'll see you around."

And they were off. They never looked back to that table, knowing they were too close to facing...but they couldn't help but wonder what was so bad. Then there was what she did, how it flashed so quickly.

She came home that day to find her fiancé in tears. Body racking with sobs. "Babe? Baby what's wrong?" She was quick to drop her stuff and come crouch in front of her.

"Everything I've worked for it's gone." They got out between wiping away tears that seemed to never end.

Emily frowned, "what? Y/n, what happened?" She was trying to think of anything this bad. Had they been told bad news? Something someone said?

They picked up their phone and with shaky hands pulled up the news, a video of a burnt down building. "The studio...everything in it. All of it...this sets everything back..." they calmed their sobs to hiccups and a few more tears. "I'm absolutely ruined. This was supposed to be it. This was the break I was gonna get and then actually get to enter the real fashion world. I was going to go somewhere and I was going to make it," they spewed out so many worries. Mentions of how much time they'll need to restart, how this was the such an important thing.

Emily though, she froze up. There was so much happening she didn't know what to do. She's never witness them spiral out before. Within the four years, they knew how to keep themselves calm. Even if they couldn't, it's never been this intense. It scared her.

She knew it was a reasonable response to what had happened. Their entire future just went up into a crisp. Everything in her wanted to try and comfort them, truly she wanted to figure it out together.

Yet, the few bricks of the wall she'd built had more impact. She fell back behind it and regretted her next choice before it even happened. After that, Emily swore she blacked out because when she realized what happened, she was in a hotel room alone.

Y/n was just as shocked. The woman they were about to confess their undying love to just walked out. Not a single word said, but just gone. Even when they tried to ask questions, she gave them nothing.

For an entire week, Emily didn't try to reach out or fix anything. Instead she read every text that came through. Even the one that said all her shit would be on the curb for her. The one that set in what she did was calling off the wedding.

That was only a few years ago. The two had completely moved on, or at least Y/n tried to. Never wanting to look back on how much pain was caused, but apart of them wouldn't let themselves fall in love again.

But here they were. Sitting in the apartment, trying to sketch their next line, and only being able to think of Emily. Rossi came and he wouldn't have if it was serious. If they were to go to her, it would be unwrapping the bandages on a wound that hasn't been fully healed.

"No. You are stronger than this." They whispered to themselves. Staring at the sketchbook once again.

If they did...there would be a chance for closure. It would be nice to know why she ran. Why she couldn't just stick it out. They would've been the most badass couple. The FBI unit chief and a famous designer.

If they did...they would get the chance to finally express their anger. But it wouldn't be the right time if she's suffering. How is she suffering? What is going through her mind?

"Fuck." They shouted before getting up. Heading into their room to start packing a suitcase. Dialing Dave at the same time.

"Rossi"

"When are you flying back to Virginia?"

"I'll have the car there in ten. Thank you Y/n."

The call ended quickly, and Y/n was left to grumble. "Oh thank you Y/n! Thank you for having to be the damn adult once again. Thank you for willingly putting yourself through hell for her!" They had a nasty taste on their tongue as they spoke. It's honestly what silenced them.

Throwing a few outfits into a suitcase with the basic needs, they zipped it and began to pack a second bag. Grabbing everything needed to continue working on their summer line. This was done more carefully, with more precision on where everything went in.

Their eyes scanned over the packed bag, making sure everything was in there right. Right before Dave texted the car was out front.

One more sigh was let out before the apartment was locked up. The start of what might be either the biggest, or best choice made.

Emily was in her office. She was lost. She was loosing her mind over this case. Her wack-ass neighbor had hit a nerve she would've never expected.

It was just a mess now. Whoever was behind all this was winning and she couldn't figure it out. She was just fucked.

"Hey...how bad?" Rossi had popped into the room. Watching as the woman pulled out a box of cigarettes and lit one. "That bad?"

"Restricted duty until they see fit, so the BAU is yours." She tried to act calm, trying to keep it together infront of him.

Rossi huffed, "I don't want it. I'm not fit for it."

Emily pinched her nose. "None of us are! Hell! Me most of all. I need you to step up here Dave." She just needed him to make this easier.

"There has to be something?"

"This is happening." She shook her head and turned her back, her purse being a lame excuse for a distraction . The walls couldn't stay up as she felt herself begin to crumble.

A soft hand on her back made her gasp. She expected to turn and see Rossi, someone who she could only go so far with. Yet, her eyes were met with Y/n. She couldn't help it. Her legs gave out as she just sobbed into their chest on the floor.

It killed Y/n to see her like this. Emily was known for her tough demeanor and being able to keep it together at work. But that's what the team knew. Y/n knew her as their fiancé. They saw her breakdown at least once a month from the case build ups.

This however, Y/n could tell this was months on months of a build up. This was a low point, one that they would be there for.

It was half an hour before Emily could get out anything. Her brown eyes, wide and glassy, looked up to them. "What are you doing here?" Her voice was weak and defeated.

"I was told you needed me." Was all Y/n answered with. Naturally, their thumb wiped away the tears. "Why don't you sit on the couch and I'll make you some tea, hmm? Then you can tell me what's got you so...low."

The older got up and moved towards the couch. Y/n leaving the room to make the drink, remembering how Emily liked it like it was their own preferred. Within five minutes they were back and handing over the tea.

They stood, leaning against the desk. "Was it Brian again?"

"How did you...?" The question trailed off as Emily took her first sip. Trying to not let the warm feeling rush through her. They remembered her tea flawlessly.

Y/n glanced out the window, "I saw him lingering on the way in." Emily laughed a little at that. "But really....are you ok?"

"I've failed as a team leader. This job has corrupted me into breaking laws and lying to my team. I'm chasing with nothing but a conspiracy theory. I sounded crazy to the biggest conspiracy theorist in Virginia. I've been benched because of him. I just...I don't know what to do anymore." She so easily confessed. Her head falling into her hands for what felt like the millionth time today. "This can't be how I go out."

Internally, Y/n battled with going over there and holding her or keeping this distance. It put them back once again. They wouldn't be able to live with themselves if they did what she did, it just wouldn't make anything right. So they went over and held her again. This time placing an understanding kiss to her temple.

"It's not. I mean, it will be if you let it. And trust me when I tell you, you're going to want to let it. But that's not Emily Prentiss. She has been through so much worse than some theorist. This will be a fresh start. A chance to start anew. You will take it, and you will figure out this case. You will get your guy or whatever you call it, unsub? This is not your lowest. It's gonna feel like it, but it's just a low before the high. It's all going to be ok." They spoke from their heart. Even as it ached to be back in this position. Even as tears fell from their own eyes.

They were sharing her pain without wanting to, but needing to. Needing to let her know this wasn't it. Needing to let her know that someone was her to share her burdens again.

For the first time, both felt connected entirely. Beating with one heart. Thinking with one mind. Feeling with one body.

That night they had fallen asleep on the couch in her office. Holding onto one another like it would all go away as long as they were together.

Y/n had woken randomly, searching for any source of time. Rubbing their eyes as it was two in the morning. Emily didn't have to be back her till at least eight. They let their eyes fall to Emily. How she seemed so peaceful lying on top of them. She needed this more than Y/n had thought.

So, without much debate, Y/n was carrying the sleeping beauty and her bags out. Doing everything to prevent her from waking, which wasn't hard as she was out cold.

They drove in silence back to where they were staying. Knowing that if it came to it, they could drive to get her an outfit. The silence gave them time to really think. What were they doing? This is the exact opposite of what they were expecting.

Was Emily going to easily fit her way right back? It wouldn't be fair. She caused them the pain and yet they still love her. They would, without a doubt, let her as well. All she had to do was ask. It was just unfair, and they were going to live with it.

Emily stirred in the nice duvet. Confused as it wasn't hers and far too nice to be a hotel. She knew this duvet. She slept in it many times before.

"The coffee is being made. And breakfast is on the way." That voice she missed hearing in the morning.

She hummed while stretching, "how long have you been up?" She finally opened her eyes and seeing Y/n in sweats and a baby tee. Their casual lounge wear.

"Since maybe five. These sketches don't finish themselves unfortunately." They sat down at the desk that was perfectly illuminated by the sun at anytime of the day. "Oh, also your team is coming here tonight. You're taking the day according to Dave. He said it's his order and you should follow it."

"Why are they coming here?" She swung her feet out the bed. Her head turning to take in the room. "You kept your apartment here? What about living in New York?"

"My home in New York makes this look like a doll house. Smallest is the home in California. I move with the seasons." They simply explained. Frowning when Emily laughed.

"You're such a snob. Three houses? Really?" She got up and came to look at the sketches. Not saying anything as Y/n just began sketching again.

She couldn't help but stare at them. They made that concentration face still. Where the creativity would float in their eyes as the rest of their face was resting.

Y/n could feel her eyes on them. It wasn't anything out of their routine. Oh how they fell so easily into the routines.

"I'm a big fashion designer. I'm constantly doing something somewhere else. It's like you, Ms. FBI. Always away doing something," they hummed. Never once did they look up to her, they seemed to be battling the inevitable.

Emily didn't say anything, she just took in the sketches one more time and was off to the bathroom.

Both in their own thoughts and silence. Neither one knowing how to approach the situation of each other. Emily not knowing how to go about work. Y/n not knowing how to go about the designs. There were many thoughts floating in the air.

They let the silence stay around as they waited for breakfast to show up. Emily still clueless on why the team was coming. And she could've asked, but the thrill of a surprise put together by Y/n seemed to make her against it.

Y/n had been trying to sketch within the silence, but knowing Emily was only a few feet away made it hard.

"Babe! I'm home!" She called into the apartment. Noting how quiet it was. "Y/n? Are you even here?" A text saying 'study' came through, leading her through the quiet home.

When she pushed open the door, she found several mannequins with different outfits all lined up. "Isn't it beautiful?" Y/n hummed from the table of gems. They seemed to have been hand sewing each one on.

"Stunning. You didn't have all this done before I left?" Emily came to get a closer look. Being able to see the glimmer of proudness in Y/n's eyes. "What's it inspired by?"

Y/n didn't answer, instead just took int their work. Each outfit was inspired by their favorite memory with Emily. Between outfits they wore that night, or how they felt in the moment. The line was a collection of their love.

"Alrighty, leave me in the dark till it's released. Are you hungry? I imagine you've been to busy working to eat?" Emily left, getting comfortable.

Y/n looked over the sketches one more time. Sighing and dropping their head with a loud bump. They hadn't struggled this hard with sketches since when the two had first split.

They pushed up from their spot and headed into the kitchen. Rubbing their eyes to try and see anything clearly. They lost focus as they stared at the working coffee pot. This trip was already off on a different path than they wanted.

"If you want...I can leave." Emily's voice broke into the silent kitchen. Her head hung low and her hands picking at each other. She looked out the window briefly, bracing herself to meet the others stare.

Only, it wasn't on her. Instead Y/n moved around to get coffee, their back to the woman. "If you want to, I can drive you. But by no means are you gonna get kicked out." Two mugs got pulled down. They were matching ones Emily had gotten for them once upon a time ago.

They frowned to the memories of both mugs. There was a moment with a sigh. They forgot how much they avoided coming here and how they left everything almost the same.

The coffee was poured and the mug was handed over. Now they met each other's eyes. Emily wearing a frown as Y/n tried to keep their shit together.

"Unfortunately for me and fortunately for you, I couldn't kick you out even if you stabbed me. But I wouldn't try, we both have too much to loose for that." Y/n kept their distance still. Eyes either on Emily or anywhere else in the house. It was getting quiet again and it wasn't enjoyable. They rubbed their eyes again, "I need to get back to work. Feel free to make yourself comfortable but not too loud."

They were off and back in their study before Emily could even get anything out. "What about breakfast?" She called out and after, following herself.

Y/n flipped over their phone, "it's about ten minutes away." Their voice was cold and stale. Short of the comforting Emily had heard last night.

It confused her. "You are so confusing." She mumbled. Her head shaking just a bit at the cold demeanor.

"Funny coming from you." Y/n shot back almost instantly. A nasty taste washing over their tongue again. They sucked their tooth before turning around. Eyes immediately locking Emily in. "If this is confusing for you, let me tell you what's confusing for me. The fact that when my entire future burnt into literal crisps, the only thing you, my fiancé at the time, quite literally walked out and said nothing. For a week you then ghost me, mind you I was the one you were marrying in less than a month, and then after years of not looking back, David Rossi shows up. You know what THE David Rossi asked me? To come help you. And here I am, trying my absolute best to keep my shit together so you don't have to worry about another thing. Because you know what Emily? I care for you enough to be there for you." They spewed everything out, hands being thrown around in dramatics as their chest heaved.

Emily was too stunned to speak. What was she to say? Y/n was right. She left when they needed her the most and left without a word. And yet, here they were giving her nothing but what they always have, love.

"I'm sorry," was all that she could manage.

They only scoffed, "whatever. Breakfast is almost here." Y/n shook their head and sat back down at the desk. "You can put my food in the fridge."

"Y/n..." Emily sounded broken, even more than last night. It killed Y/n, but they deserved their reason, and she knew that.

Cautiously, she moved in closer. Coming to Y/n's left and sitting down on the floor. Her knees bent just enough to rest her arms on.

"I panicked...I had never seen you break down like that before..I didn't know how to respond and I just fell behind a wall and did what I always did..I ran from it instead of facing it. And it wasn't fair to you. I truly have no excuse for what I did, except I was a coward." She spoke quietly into the air. Feeling tears prick her eyes as the feeling of guilt and embarrassment kicked her hard. "I only can say sorry, and I say it knowing it will never be enough to make up for all of the pain I may have caused you."

Both had taken the next moment to sit in silence and process everything. Y/n had tears falling from the moment Emily had sat down next to them. Emily had let her tears fall once she finished.

A few beats had passed and Y/n had let their hand fall to Emily's head. Sliding to her cheek as she looked up. "You Emily Prentiss, have caused more pain than I can bring up again. And I hope you have learned from it. I hope you didn't do it to anyone else and you won't do it to anyone else." They had this frown she had never seen, one she knew she had caused.

"I'm so sorry Y/n.." she quietly cried leaning into the touch. Feeling the warmth of the designers hands. "I'm so sorry."

"I know," they hummed as tears fell down their rosy cheeks. "I know you are."

Hours had gone by. Filled with nothing but tears and sniffles. Emily had moved from the floor when she began sobbing, into Y/n's lap. Her face buried into their neck as they shushed her to asleep.

Y/n had tucked her back into bed and continued to work on the designs. Pulling out the old sketches from their scrapped line. Staring over each outfit that was designed after their love.

The mannequins were in the studio, locked in a specific room. They questioned if now was the right time to bring them all back out. If it was, they knew it was ready to be launched, giving them more time on the line that sat unfinished.

They picked up their phone, "Jackie? I need you and Joana to bring me Project L.E.P. The key is in my desk, bottom left drawer, hidden under her picture, tied with a red ribbon. It's hard to miss, the ribbon has L.E.P in gold on the end."

"Are we launching it?!" The assistant grew overly excited. "Oh! Y/n you have no idea how wonderful this is!"

"Is that Y/n?" The other assistant, Joana came into the room.

Y/n assumed Jackie nodded, "yes! They want us to bring L.E.P to their home."

"They're launching it? But then that would mean Em- Oh my God!" The phone was snatched and it was Joana now. "Did you guys talk?! I want to know everything! How did you lay it down?!"

"Joana." Y/n simply cut the assistant from bombarding with questions. "When I see you, I will answer your questions. I need that line, bring the truck with them all. We're going to review them."

"Yes boss!" They both said before hanging up. Y/n knew they were geeking out in the studio at this point.

They assumed it would be at least half an hour before the two got there. Giving enough time to finally take a well needed break and eat something.

While they warmed up the breakfast, Emily had stirred awake. She laid in the bed, taking in the familiar smell of Y/n's shampoo on the pillows. She began to think over everything they had said.

They said it was unfortunate that they couldn't kick her out even if they wanted to. What did that truly mean?

Emily realized, they've already gone through the hardest conversation, this one would be nothing. She swung the covers over and began to look for Y/n. Checking the study first.

Her curiosity for the better of her. She came close to the desk, looking over the designs. There were a few that had yet to be finished, and then there was one in red that really caught her eye. She picked it up, scanning over the paper and realizing she's seen it before. On the bottom had L.E.P written in gold. Emily couldn't place where she's seen it, but she knew for a fact she had.

Placing it down, she left to the kitchen next. Finding Y/n dancing slightly to their own tune. She watched as they prepared their food before acknowledging her entrance.

"Would you like yours as well? I can heat it up?" They offered without even looking over before grabbing the second meal. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good...I do have a question though," she came in closer. Leaning against the counter while staying out the way. Y/n looked over, showing she had their attention. "When you said..."

"I meant it." They knew her thoughts better than anyone. Emily swore in another life they were either a profiler, or a mind reader. "If you want to stay, I'm not going to stop you. If you want to leave, I will drive you. I'm here because you needed me, and I think....apart of me still needed you. If I wanted to be over you, I would've been. I know I would've been. I would've cleaned out everything that ties to you, but I didn't."

"When we ended...I thought that everything was going to go to shit. My career was caught in a fire, my relationship was ending, and I began to spiral. I began to just accept that this was how I was going out. Would never be a big fashion designer, never have a love life, nothing to live for....but I thought of it as letting you win without a fight. And that wasn't how I wanted you to win."

"I don't deserve you," she had whispered. Her head tilting and her silver waves fell to the side.

It was the first time Y/n had actually taken her in entirely. How she aged and yet was still the most beautiful woman they had ever come across. It made them want to just kiss her and tell her that she was welcomed home always.

"And yet...you have me." They sighed, hand coming to cup her cheek. "And maybe thats why I've been so confusing. Because I'm supposed to be mad at you, I really really want to..but anytime I try to, this nasty taste fills my mouth. Like I don't mean anything bad I try and say. And I don't."

"Y/n..." she furrowed her brows. This was more confessing than she had expected. "You don't have to tell me anything-"

"Damn it Emily," they groaned. "I'm not telling you this because I think you need it, I'm telling yo this because I need it. I'm being selfish. I'm loosing my shit with you just standing here. Do you know how easy it is for you to walk right back into my life? When I said I was going to love you forever, I meant it. I meant it with everything then. And I'm going to mean it with everything now." They had their own tears now. Finally caving into the painful feeling of being in love.

Emily was stunned, but she wasn't going to miss her second chance. She pulled Y/n in by the pockets of their sweats, standing on her tip-toes to meet their lips in a passionate kiss.

They both felt airy as they got lost in the feeling of home. Holding each other so impossibly close that it was undeniable they were staying together.

Once they pulled apart they just stared at the other. Both trying to find some answer to what they were feeling. Was there anything to say now?

Y/n came out the trance first, a smile gracing their lips. "Why don't we eat? Jackie and Joana are gonna be here soon and will probably want to question us."

"What are they bringing you?" She held Y/n there for a little longer. Enjoying the closeness and safeness. "Fabrics?"

"Project L.E.P." Was all they answered before heating up the other box of food. "I think I'll release it before the one I'm working on now."

Emily watched them move, "what does the L.E.P mean?"

Y/n was quick to shrug. "It's just the name that Jackie and Joana gave it." They dismissed the topic. Eyes trained to the microwave as it counted down the minute. But the small smirk they held told her they knew exactly what it meant. "I got you your usual."

They handed over the box and the two prepped before heading to the couch. Sitting knee to knee as they ate and watched whatever was on.

It was an enjoyable moment, and one Y/n would remember. And that's when the next line came to them. They tried to be subtle to finish up their food before rushing into the study. They grabbed a sticky note, it was red, and they scribbled on it before slapping it against the window.

Soon designs started to be taped up to the windows. The evening sun peaking through the papers. The ideas began to flow and make sense again. They felt relieved at the feeling.

The front door had opened, and the two assistance were quickly to make their presences known.

"Oh my! Y/n! You dog!" Jackie's voice filled the entire apartment at the sight of Emily. Her head snapped to Joana. "This is so not real!"

Y/n forgot how young her assistance were compared to them. They walked out shaking their head. "How many mannequins did you bring?"

"We figured you still had six here, we actually know you do because you never returned them. So we brought the other six. Then each piece is stored in its own bag and box." They stood tall and in line. "We just need to grab everything."

"Well let's get to it. Six mannequins and twelve boxes are not getting up here that easily. Em, you'll stay up here and make the trips from the elevator back. Joana you'll be on elevator duty. Jackie you're unloading and I'll carry everything to the elevator."

It was the perfect team work. And within no time they had everything upstairs and the three were working on setting them up facing the window. Emily, having no hand in sewing or fashion just watched the three move in harmony.

Joana and Jackie worked to just get the outfits on the mannequins as Y/n did touch ups. They worked until the night fell. And it was perfect.

"Y/n you've outdone yourself still. Are we really ready to release project L.E.P?" Joana walked around the designs and took in every seeming detail. "Truly a genius."

Y/n had a glimmer of pride in their eyes. "Yeah. I think it's time." They only broke away to look at Emily who sat on the couch. "What do you think?"

She had dropped her gaze to look at the twelve outfits. "They're absolutely beautiful. They have been since when you first had them all laid out." She stood to come next to them. "Are you ready to release them?"

Y/n inhaled with a smile, exhaling their worries. "Yeah." They grabbed Emily's hand. "I am ready." They were confident.

"So...what are you gonna call it?" Emily went closer to examine the detail as well. The room was silent as everyone thought of something.

Jackie hummed, "mmm what if we keep L.E.P?" She threw out. "It holds meaning, it's cute, it's secretive, secretive is sexy."

"L.E.P in gold writing, your writing. We tease it with close up pictures first. Then we host a big launch party and have them all come out on a runway." Joana began to plan everything out. Already seeing a vision.

"But what is L.E.P?" Emily butted in. Getting silence and all eyes on Y/n, who was looking down to Emily.

"Loving Emily Prentiss," they only could smile even kinder at the reveal. "It'll be the start of a collection. The E.P collection. It's bright, it's new, it's warm and giving. That's how it'll start."

The doorbell had rang. "That must be your team. You two are dismissed. Thank you for the help today. Start your magic and fill me in in the morning. Love you both," they bowed their head. Watching as the two assistants began to pack up.

"Um, Y/n? I have nothing to wear?" Emily glanced down at the big t-shirt and sleep shorts.

"Your outfit was laid out on the bed before we even started touch ups. You go change and I'll greet everyone." Y/n shooed as they moved to the door. Opening and being greeted first with Dave.

"How is she?" He placed a kiss to their cheek before leading everyone in. They all seemed worried at first.

"She's better today. And that's what matters." They hummed. Moving towards the kitchen to begin cooking for everyone.

Stopping at the instant gasp and whispers. The team had seen the designs lined up. "Wait..your the Y/n? Like designer Y/n?" Penelope stared in awe at the outfits.

"Guilty. That's the next line. I guess a sneak peak." They shrugged, smiling as Dave began to prep to help cook. "You can get close, everything is set in stone at this point."

Just then Emily had walked out in a one-of-one dress. Y/n had designed it and worked the first night to make it for her. Telling themselves that it was either a goodbye gift or a welcome home gift.

She looked stunning, and Y/n could take their eyes off of her. Their best model walked into and began to get wine glasses down.

"Emily, you never mentioned Y/n was a fashion designer?!" Penelope was still caught on the fact. Earning a laugh from Y/n.

"Ouch, four years and almost married and you didn't tell them about my job?" They came near Emily, crouching next to her to get out some seasonings.

Emily looked down to them, taking in the moment of being taller for once. "She would've flipped out. I also figured she would've down a background check on you without my knowing." Both glancing to the bubbly woman.

"I...I didn't because I wanted to respect her boundaries." She got out, looking to everyone else who seemed to have knowing looks. "Don't tell me..."

"We all...kinda knew." Tara broke the news, hugging the friend as the look of betrayal washed over her.

Y/n had shrugged from their spot. "I had no part in this." They cleared their name.

That night the team had laughed, eaten, drank a few bottles of wines, and enjoyed a nice round of desserts.

A few months has passed and Emily and Y/n began to work things out. She appreciated Y/n's efforts as well even with all the press and media.

There had been an article that really stood out.

And why did you name it L.E.P?

Well....when I had made it I was with this amazing woman. Each piece was meant to represent a moment of our relationship.

And why are you just now releasing it?

We had honestly gotten into a fight a month or so before our wedding. We ended up splitting and I just couldn't come to scrap it. So I locked it into a room until now.

And what made you choose now?

Because she needed me and I realized I would always need her. And this is my gift to her. A token of my love with what I was meant to be doing. Fashion. And what better way than to express love through fashion?

Emily had came over and smothered Y/n with all the love she could after reading that. It made her look at the entire line differently and hold it near to her heart just as well.

They laid next to each other in bed, just staring and having a wordless conversation. But Emily could see it written on Y/n's face. They loved her. And that made her see everything worth fighting for.

"I love you." She had whispered before realizing.

Y/n smiled. "I know." They switched to a cocky smile. Pulling her closer by the waist and bending her just slightly back. "And I love you too. Always will."

They shared one of their most passionate kisses that night. It sparked a new sense of love. Mature, mannered, and workable. As long as they had each other, it would always be workable.

#reader insert #fanfic #criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #x y/n #criminal minds evolution

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toniwritesshifts · 21 days ago

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The Night We Met Pt.1

First FanFic if there's anything that should fix or work on please tell me I need the criticism

Damian Wayne x Fem reader

This is based off of my DCU DR... if you don't believe in shifting keep it to yourself cause I could careless I wrote this for fun. Reader is based off of me cause I love me. Reader, Damian and most of the people they interact with are in the 10th grade unless said other wise.

CW: slow burn like REALLY slow, swearing, reader has ADHD because I have ADHD, Split POV?

"Today is going to be a great day."

You stare at your reflection in your dorm bathroom mirror, leaning onto the sink to inspect your face. No glaringly red pimples—well, except for that one. Without hesitation, you pop it.

"I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it," you complain to yourself, grabbing a pimple patch and slapping it on.

With an approving nod to yourself, you back away, rush out of the bathroom, and immediately trip over a pile of clothes. You barely catch yourself before face-planting.

"Shit ok, note to self put these away before they actually kill me."

You shake it off, grab your backpack and cheer bag, and speed out of your dorm, locking the door behind you. As you make your way to the school building, you slip one AirPod into your ear and adjust your bags.

"Good morning!" you chirp, greeting every person you pass.

"You're late," a voice says the moment you reach the school stairs.

You scoff. "Nope, I’m right on time, actually."

Alex, one of your best friends since you transferred in the middle of ninth grade, rolls her eyes. The rest of your crew—Mia, Terra (yes, that Terra, the one who’s supposed to be dead), and Brinley—are already there, chatting about their schedules. After a few minutes of catching up, you all head inside to drop off your stuff before class starts. The last thing you need is to be late—especially since detention means suspension from the cheer squad.

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Damian Wayne hated school.

It was inefficient, mind-numbingly dull, and filled with people he had zero interest in interacting with... well that's what he told his father. But here he was black backpack strapped tightly on, security lock in place (only he and Alfred knew the combination), wearing the standard Gotham Public uniform in blue, white, and black. In his hands, a single sheet of paper listed his dorm and locker number, along with his class schedule on the back.

After several frustrating minutes, he finally located his locker. Right next to the bathroom.

"This is disgustingly unacceptable."

He scowled, reluctantly opening it and arranging his belongings inside. He grabbed his massive binder capable of holding twelve six-subject notebooks along with his sketchbook and pencil case.

BANG!

A locker slammed shut next to him, the noise so sudden and aggressive that Damian whipped around, fully prepared to fight.

Instead, he found himself face-to-face with you.

"Are you new here?" you asked casually, balancing an absurd number of things—an oversized laptop that clearly wasn’t for schoolwork, a bag stuffed with library books, and a tiny, overstuffed backpack that was one bad tug away from falling apart.

But the thing that really made him frown?

That obnoxiously colorful pencil case sitting on top of your stack.

He scowled on instinct. You were chaotic. Loud. Distracting. He already disliked you.

"We have the same classes!" You say looking at his schedule over his shoulder "Cool. I'll show you around come on," already walking off without waiting for a response.

Damian blinked. Is she just assuming I'm going to follow her?

A part of him wanted to ignore you. Another part, the one that always sought information and efficiency, decided it was the most logical course of action. With an irritated sigh, he shut his locker and followed.

You lead him through the hallways, weaving through students while Damian silently trails behind.

“This is the cafeteria. The food is actually pretty good for a public school, but oh my goodness, whatever you do DO NOT try the mystery meat unless you wanna meet God early.”

Damian barely listens. He’s too distracted by the fact that ‘mystery meat’ even exists in a place meant for education and the absurd number of people who stop to talk to you.

Everywhere you go, someone waves says hi, or stops to chat. People throw out gossip, random compliments, and even inside jokes.

You know everyone.

It’s exhausting just watching you socialize.

Damian, used to go unnoticed unless he wanted to be seen, and he found it deeply irritating. He didn't like unnecessary attention. He didn't like small talk. And he definitely didn't like how effortlessly you commanded every room you walked into.

As you continue to weave through the crowded room, students keep stopping you some to say hi, some to ask questions, and a few just to gossip for the hell of it. Damian watches, mildly horrified, as you effortlessly jump from conversation to conversation.

"Anywho," you continue, not missing a beat, "the library is on the third floor, but I swear its haunted, so if you hear whispering, just keep it moving."

Damian raises an eyebrow and scoffs. "There is no such thing as ghosts."

You stop and turn to look at him with the most offended look you could possibly muster. "Says the guy who has classes with me, meaning he takes Advanced Mythology AND Paranormal Studies. Boom."

He opens his mouth to argue but then immediately shuts it.

"Touche," he says after clicking his tongue in annoyance.

You grin before turning on your heels to continue the rapid tour. Makeing sure that the tour ends right outside of your first-hour class.

By the time the first bell rings, Damian has already learned several things: You are absurdly social, you have way too much energy for one person, you talk with your hands, aggressively. (He nearly got smacked twice already, you are completely, utterly, and unapologetically YOU.

And for reasons he can’t quite explain yet,

But, it doesn't annoy him as much as he thought it would.

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it took me 2 days to write this mainly because I was crocheting and working on my script buuuuut I'll try to make the next parts in about the same time span unless I get grounded 😶

#Spotify #damian wayne x reader #fanfic #damian al ghul #damian wayne #batman #reality shifting #shifting #first fic #dc shifting #dc fanfic #batfam x reader

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alwritey-aphrodite · 8 months ago

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Hiiiii!!! I’ve got a whole book load of ideas for this pathetic man named Carmy Berzatto but this one’s been in my head for a while. Basically they aren’t together (yet wink wink ;)) but reader keeps a sketchbook around and has a few drawings of Carmy because how can you not wanna draw his sad doe eyes. One day they leave it behind and Carmy finds the drawings and is flustered that someone would wanna draw him.

He can also confront reader for some tension but this boi just needs to be drawn like a French girl and given some love.

Happy writing btw!

Thank you for this request!!! I would love to hear more of your ideas if you’d like to share them hehehe

You are going to murder your best friend.

He’s incredibly irritating, in ways he doesn’t even realize. He’s disgustingly caring, keeping his fridge stocked with snacks and drinks that only you like, remembering books you’d wanted to get and dropping them at your front door, taking you around Chicago to find the best art supply stores. He even comes with you whenever you want to take a trip to the art museum, not because he enjoys the art but because the thought of you being there alone makes him anxious.

Not only is he upsettingly kind, he’s also nauseatingly gorgeous. Sometimes it’s a little hard to look at him, you’re so worried your heart is going to stop. You love every little thing about him, every tidbit and quirk you learn loving stored away in your mind to turn over when you can’t sleep. You can’t stay away from him, but you’re not sure how much more of him you can take.

“Wanna go down to the park with me?” You lean yourself across his counter as he cuts the fruit you’d just bought at the farmer’s market. You’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself, but he didn’t even ask, and you’re sure he knows more than you do when it comes to making produce last longer. Plus, this just means you get to stare at his hands and his arms and that face he makes when he’s focusing.

“Why?” He asks, not even bothering to look up at you, not because he doesn’t care but because he’s desperately trying to impress you with his knife skills, as if he doesn’t run one of the best restaurants in the city.

“I have to practice my figure drawing,” you tap the front cover of your sketchbook for emphasis, hoping he hears the gentle thudding even if he doesn’t see it.

“I’m almost done,” he says, instead of reminding you of how hot it is and how little free time he has, because he’d do anything for you, even if you didn’t ask, even if he only suspected you wanted something, he’d make it happen.

It's not long after that the two of you are sitting on a scorching park bench, roasting underneath the sun. You’re sure Carmy’s bored and sweating, and you know he has a million other things he could be doing right now, but he’s sitting next to you in the blazing heat while you try and find a clean page in your sketchbook.

You flip to a clear page, searching the park for someone interesting to draw when you see a laughing baby a few feet away, the high-pitched noise bringing a smile to your face. You try your best to capture that particular joy that you’re almost certain only babies are capable of feeling, and it’s not your best work, but your only glad was to get more comfortable with live references and exploring emotions. Plus, Carmy is much too distracting. He’s got his head tilted towards the sun, eyes shut against the light that illuminates the slope of his nose and the curve of his jaw, making him look nothing short of godly. You’re not sure how you get away with all this staring, but you don’t want your luck to run out, so you turn back to your paper and search the park for someone else to draw.

After a runner, an elderly couple, and a young woman crying, you close the cover of your sketchbook as your fingers start to cramp. You rest your hands on top of the cover, trying your hardest to deter the breeze from disturbing your pages the way it ruffles Carmy’s curls. As close as you are, you never want Carny to see your sketchbook, beyond the few pages you’ve already shown him.

Most of the pages are full of him, different angles and emotions and parts of his body. There’s a page dedicated to his hands, to his curls, to those beautifully expressive eyes. You’re certain that you could draw him from memory and have every slope and curve and angle be absolutely perfect. Those drawings are your reminder that you’re talented, that you have skills that you’ve practiced for years and years and that your art is good, whether you always think that or not, but you’d die if Carmy ever saw them.

Friends don’t secretly fill pages and pages with drawings of their friend, because it’s strange and a little creepy and reveals feelings you’d rather keep hidden. Really, you’re not sure how you get away with staring at Carny so often, ogling without so much as a glance from him, but you can’t help yourself. You’re friends with the most beautiful man in existence, of course you’re going to stare when he’s focused or distracted and won’t notice the stars in your eyes.

It’s not until hours later, after you’ve returned to your own apartment and you finally get around to unloading the bag you’d been carrying all day, that you realize your sketchbook is missing. You know for a fact that you carried it back from the park, mindful of the reassuring weight of it in your hands, and you immediately know you must have forgotten to put it back in your bag after you’d stopped at Carmy’s to cool down before making your way back to your apartment. You can practically see it on his countertop, all of your most closely guarded secrets left unprotected. You’re halfway through your spiral about needing to pack up and move away forever to save yourself from the mortification of Carmy knowing how you feel when there’s a knock on your door.

You open it without thinking, immediately regretting your decision when you see Carmy on the other side, looking rather disheveled. Your mind comes up completely blank as you struggle to form a sentence, trying to decide between playing it cool and pleading for forgiveness.

“You’re really talented,” he tells you, offering the sketchbook out to you. You can tell by his tone, by the fact that he sounds like he’s choking, that he’s seen the drawings. You take the book, the weight heavy in your hands without any of its security. You feel raw and exposed, ripped apart and stomped on, but you step back and open the door farther anyway, walking towards your kitchen and hoping Carmy follows.

“I’m sorry,” you settle on a simple apology, not certain you’d be able to articulate anything more, because how are you supposed to explain to your best friend that you’re so in love with him you can’t help but commit him to memory, can’t help but fill pages and pages with just his figure because you love him so much it’s like your body and soul are being taken over by some force you’re completely unable to control as your pencil glides across the page?

“Don’t be,” he clears his throat, fingers fidgeting against the back of a chair, “they’re really good,” he pauses, lips working silently like he can’t quite push out the words, “I don’t understand.”

“You’re my muse, I guess,” you force out an awkward chuckle, trying your hardest to be funny so you don’t have a breakdown, “I dunno, it’s just easy for me.”

Drawing him, loving him, comes naturally to you, like it’s something you’ve been doing your whole life. You know him, every slope and curve and angle, every shadow, you know him so well he seems like a part of you. He’s trying to process, you can tell by the way he works his jaw back and forth, and you’d be committing this moment to memory to add to your pages and pages of drawings if you weren’t so nervous. You’re going to have to let him go when all you want to do is keep him with you forever.

“No one’s ever done anything like that.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize lamely, because you’re not sure what else to say.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he clarifies, seeming like he’s finally getting his thoughts in order, “I don’t mind, I just wish I’d known.”

“Well, now you do,” you feel a little stung, wishing for something more than indifference, rage or elation or any strong feeling at all.

“I’ve gotta go, early morning tomorrow,” he says and you just nod, because you’re not sure what else to say. You’re still standing in the kitchen when you hear your door open and gently shut again, leaving you alone once more. You feel weightless and weighed down at the same time, and you speed through the rest of your nighttime routine, desperate to crawl into bed.

It's not until you’re passing by your front door to make sure it’s locked that you see the containers of cut-up fruit Carmy had left for you.

Tagging people who seemed interested :) @onceuponaoneshotfanfic @yxtkiwiyxt @veryprairieberry

#carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy berzatto fic #the bear fic #the bear

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monarcascension · 2 years ago

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the less they know | j.w

summary : You were always the kind of person to stay focused. You were determined to prove yourself in this new job and never let anything deter you from your path, that was … until you met Jung Wooyoung.

pairings: wooyoung x blk!femreader

tags: light fluff , angst, SMUT WARNING, foreplay, unprotected sex, vulgar language, creampie, MINORS DNI ♡

word count: 7.2K

Since you were a little girl, you were always interested in the fashion scene. Your grandmother would frequently watch fashion shows, whether on television or in person. Even designing clothes of her own. In fact, she was the one who taught you how to use a needle and thread in the first place.Thanks to her, your addiction to the art grew over the years, which led you to the heart of Seoul, South Korea for the Summer International Fashion Seminar. A home for artists, like yourself, who wished to put their works in the public eye. All of your accomplishments in your youth, made you the first Black woman and fashion creator to have ever made it to the Korean Division. Whether your luck went any further after this point, the feature itself was impressive.You worked your ass off every day to prove to everybody and to yourself, that you deserved everything you earned.

That was only the good part of it though.

Your nervousness was starting to overcome you little by little. This was your sixth interview this year with a company in South Korea and you were sure that it could possibly be your last if this didn’t go well. You had a dream of designing that you wanted to follow, and your parents sent you off on that quest in support of your journey, but for months you had nothing to show for it but half truths. Your mother would call and ask how work was going at your new job, and you would lie and say “Great!” almost half heartedly every time. You weren’t necessarily lying that you were working, which you had been — creating new pieces for yourself as well as filling your sketchbook with new designs for the future. Despite your lengthy background, despite your qualifications nothing ever worked out.

So, this company was your final hope or you would be leaving Korea for good.

Your leg shook violently in the chair as you stared forward at the empty seat behind the Director’s desk. Scanning over the structure, pictures of family and other knick knacks lined the wooden surface, making it known that it was clearly a space that was lived in and lively, which was not customary of most offices.

The other company buildings you visited were grand and uniform in design and color, but this one — still holding on to extravagance— had murals, pictures of staff, and plaques commemorating important figures. From what you could tell this was almost like a familial space, everyone had a bond with one another here. It was sweet to see, but it only made you realize just how alone you had been in Korea all this time.

You were pulled from your thoughts just as you heard the doorknob to the office click. You immediately stood to your feet as a woman stepped through the door, seemingly shocked by your presence. You greeted her with a polite bow and she returned the gesture.

“I apologize if I kept you waiting. I had to make some rounds throughout the department and lost track of time. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Director Yoo.” She said kindly, stepping around you to get to her seat. “Please, please sit.”

You retook your spot in the chair and re-adjusted so that you presented yourself well. You were perfectly dressed for the occasion, wearing a hand-crafted black plaid blazer that fit well against your frame; matching with a skirt and a nude turtle neck. It was formal, but also fashionable and eye-catching as well.

“Director Yoo. I appreciate you choosing to discuss this opportunity with me. I was happy to hear back from you.” You started, sweetly smiling at the woman.

“I must say, I was quite shocked to hear that you chose to apply here. What made you choose us?” She asked bluntly.

“Well, I have been in Korea for some time now and being in a foreign country you tend to do a lot of research on the things that are around you. Your company landed on my radar. So, the more I found out about you and the groups you have here it was an obvious choice.” You tried to explain with as much happiness as you could muster, hoping that it would hide your fear.

“I see..” Director Yoo spoke flatly. “I hope you don’t take this wrongly, but we.. don’t usually tend to higher foreign residents.”

You flet a cold shiver run across your body. Swallowing your saliva, and clearing your throat, you righted yourself to speak again. “Of course..”

“I’m well aware of the work that you have done. You’re extremely talented, however, it is only your Nationality that is an obstacle.”

“Director, if I may?”

She motioned for you to go on and leaned back in her chair, the leather stretching against the pressure.

“I’ve been into fashion my entire life. It’s who I am. And it’s everything that I have ever wanted to do. I applied at your company because I know that I’m good at what I do. Really good. I’m more than qualified. I understand that you take care of yours at home, and I respect that, but if you give me a chance, You’ll see that I’m trying to do the same. And I will work diligently to prove that hiring me erases all other obstacles for you in the future.”

Director Yoo stared at you as you spoke, intently taking in every word you said to her. It felt like your life was being analyzed in a weird way, and it made you nervous. As if you were being graded somehow without her ever seeing your work.

Suddenly, she sat up in her chair and rolled closer to her desk, clasping her hands together before letting out a soft sigh.

“We run a tight ship here. We work for the artists, and it's my job that I have the best of the best working on my team. They’re idols so their image is everything. Their image is our image. And we have to take care of that diligently or else we’ll be out of a job. Everything we do has to be quick and efficient. When I ask for you, you’re there. No If’s, Ands, or Buts. No distractions. Can you handle that?”

This woman was intense. That soft and sweet demeanor you thought she possessed was then replaced with business motive. She didn’t play around when it came to work, but you expected no less from the Head of the Fashion Department. You nodded your head quickly, accepting her challenge without fear.

“I’ll do more than my best.”

Standing from her seat, she walked to the other side of the desk where you sat and extended her hand. “Then welcome to the KQ family.”

You suddenly felt lighter as she said those words to you. Your shoulders affixing themselves to the light and feathery feeling now bestowed upon you. The opportunity to break down crying in front of her presented itself to you many times as you bowed to her with gratitude, but you maintained what resilience you had left. “I won’t let you down ma’am.”

“Good. We’ll finish the rest of the paperwork later. I would show you around myself, but we’re trying to finish prep for their comeback and we need all the hands we can get-“

“I can help!” You chimed.

The Director appeared confused at your eagerness and looked as if she was ready to shoot down your proposal, which made you feel guilty for speaking up in the first place, but she smiled and pulled open the door to the office.

“Let’s put you to work then.”

Following the Director through the KQ building, the two of you spoke in length about the expectations for this comeback as well as their concept. You didn’t know that much about Idol schedules, but from what you were being told, you definitely had your work cut out for you, and it excited you nonetheless. Taking the elevator up to the third floor, you were introduced to the calm chaos of the Art Department.

Racks of concealed clothing were parked outside in the halls or being loaded up by other employees, followed by them writing something on the labels in Korean. Some of them bowed at the presence of the Director, and looked confused at you but still greeted you warmly anyway before running past you to their next destination.

“We’re usually a little more organized than this, but it’s a little hectic today since we only have three weeks before the music shows. We were down a stylist so we are missing the finished pieces for one of their music show appearances. That is of the utmost importance and where you come in.” Director Yoo motioned you into one of the empty work spaces.

When you stepped inside it appeared like a dressing room combined with a waiting room with a vanity and a long body mirror, a couch and two side seats accompanied with a wall-mounted television and coffee table. In the corner was a rack of strewn about clothing and a desk with a large sewing machine and measurement map.

You took in the comfortable feel of the room , making note of everything at your disposal.

“Since it’s your first day, I won’t overwhelm you, but I want you to get used to things. The stylist left all of the equipment so use what you need. You’ll be working with Wooyoung today— he should be here in a moment. So take care of them. Any questions?”

“No- well, yes. One. I have complete creative control??”

“Anyone else's opinions would just slow you down in the moment. Just show us what you got and we’ll go from there. Good luck. No distractions!” The Director swiftly exited the room just as soon as she entered, leaving you standing in the center of the room with no idea where to begin.

It felt like you had been thrown in the heat of battle without a weapon, but if you didn’t find something quick, you were sure to be killed.

You placed your belongings on the couch, all except your sketchpad. Knowing what ATEEZ’s concept was, you tried to brainstorm something fast. From the research you had done on the group, you were privy to their style already, which gave you something to go off of. Since you of all people had the knowledge of what was hip, your pen started moving across the pad without hesitation.

“Excuse me?”

In the middle of you sketching, you heard a soft voice from the direction of the entrance. You quickly shot your head up from your paper and turned around to see—as unprofessional as it was to say— the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. You knew you shouldn’t stare, but it was almost impossible as he gazed upon you. His skin was a gorgeous light honey color. His jawline was chiseled to an inhuman perfection, accompanying his sharp nose and plump lips. He looked like trouble incarnate with long dark hair, but his brown eyes were so kind, you felt like they would suck you in within a matter of minutes if he stared at you any longer.

Shaking yourself free from your trance, softly patting your cheek as a nonverbal “pull yourself together”. You gave him a soft smile before bowing to him.

“I.. Hi. Hello. Sorry about that. I might have zoned out a little bit.” You chuckled nervously.

To your surprise, he laughed softly as he entered the room. “I noticed. You were staring at me for a while and didn’t speak. I thought I broke you for a second.”

That’s because you did.

But you didn’t say that out loud. “And you must be Wooyoung.”

“Gosh, what gave it away?” A sarcastic tone lining his words as he pulled his hair back behind his ears.

“The Director told me a loooooot about you.”

Wooyoung scoffed. “Waah. I don’t know if that’s a hidden compliment or an insult.”

“A compliment.” The two of you laughed for a moment.

“If I would have known I would be working with you, I would have prepared some compliments of my own.”

You grinned. “Well there’s still time for that.”

“You’re very pretty- I mean your outfit is. Pretty.” He stammered over his words, but tried to save himself and you laughed.

“Thank you. I made it myself. Which is exactly, what I’m going to do for you as your new stylist, so why don’t we get started?”

Throughout the rest of your session together, the conversation would flow as easy as it ever had with anybody else. While you dressed him like your personal doll, making him try on outfit after outfit in order to see your vision, he would hammer you with questions. Spilling jokes that would send you into laughing fits that had no return. It was non-stop. You don’t think you ever had this much conversation with someone since you came to Korea, but it felt nice. Being around him felt nice. Oddly, it was as if you were friends for a while instead of people who just met. It was so easy to talk to him, considering that he was an idol as well as a stranger to you. You would have thought he was snobbish in every way possible, but he just felt like a friend.

You had taken all of Wooyoung’s measurements and dimensions and finished up a good enough sketch that gave you an idea of how you wanted to style him, and he sat there with you and explained what kind of vibe he wanted to go for. You took all that information and drew it within minutes. It was complex, but doable. Portions of the design would have to be hand stitched, but that didn’t stop you.

“Alright, done!” You exclaimed proudly, flipping the sketchpad around to show him. “What do you think?”

Wooyoung kept his eyes on you the entire time, his fist resting on his cheek as he smiled. “Beautiful..”

You looked to him happily at the sound of his words and were met with those bright brown eyes flushing over every portion of your face. You thought he was referring to the drawing, but he was staring at you. Did he mishear you perhaps?

Your heartbeat was starting to pick up rapidly to the point you could hear it in your ears. You just met him mere hours ago, how was it that he managed to get you flustered so easily?

Laughing lightly to yourself with the hopes of trying to play it off as a joke, you set the sketch pad down and started gathering your belongings. “ I see why the girls love you, Jung Wooyoung.”

“Why’s that?”

“You're a flirt.”

“Here and there.” Wooyoung leaned back in his chair, working the corner of his lips up into a sly smirk while his head tilted slightly upwards. “But..I only flirt with the people I want.”

You believed that you had choked on air at that moment with your lungs seemingly collapsing in on themselves. From what you had learned about him since your conversation began, was that he was very up front with how he feels. He was one of the blunt ones in the group, but there was nothing that could have prepared you for that. A part of you wanted to believe that he was messing around, however the look in his eye was saying otherwise. He was staring at you like you were the only meal on the menu– his glare alone was a danger to you and you desperately needed to separate yourself from it.

Maybe all idols were like this with the new girls or the women that worked with them . Him flirting with you didn’t mean anything and even if it did, it didn't matter. He was an Idol and you were an employee with everything to lose. It wasn't like you could give into his advances anyway, if the two of you were even caught stealing sideways glances at one another, or touching each other in any way that was not becoming of an idol and staff relationship, it would be a disaster waiting to happen.

After months of agony you had finally managed to secure the job that you had been looking for to jumpstart your career, and nothing could get in the way of that. And a workplace affair was not on your bucket list of plans for your future.

“Boy, you play too much.” You played off Wooyoung’s statement once again, pushing the thoughts of his flirtatious notions to the back of your head.

No matter how unnervingly attractive he was. There could be no distractions. Not one. Not even him.

“Hey you two. We’re wrapping up for the day. Everything good here?” The Director’s voice came crashing into the room from the doorway, and you felt your heart lighten.

Saved by the bell. Thank god.

“Yeah! All done.” Quickly scrambling to your feet, you tossed your bag over your shoulder and fixed yourself accordingly. “I’m putting the pieces together tomorrow.”

“Perfect. You’re a lifesaver. Wooyoung. Hongjoong and your manager are looking for you, it's best you start heading out too.”

“Thank you, Director.” Wooyoung said, nodding his head in acknowledgment of the woman’s position and authority just before she walked away, leaving the two of you alone again.

You took the opportunity to try and weasel between the awkwardness brewing in the air, but you felt a light tug on your arm pulling you back. Your eyes landed upon Wooyoung who had your hand clasped in his. As strong as his physique was, the hold he had on you was gentle. The way the pad of his thumb brushed across your smooth brown skin sent goosebumps up your arm.

“W-Wooyoung?” You stammered, searching his face for some kind of reasoning behind his sudden actions. “What is it?”

And like he had just stepped out of a romantic movie from the 90’s, he brought the back of your hand up to his lips and softly planted a kiss in the center. The gesture set your entire body on fire. All of the gears in your brain halted for a moment, scraping roughly against the other as none of what you were experiencing made a single lick of sense. Not that you had the energy or time to make sense of it in the first place, but all you knew was that this shouldn’t happen. Right?

Wooyoung flickered his soulful gaze upon you once more. “Have a good night. I liked spending time with you today.”

Not knowing what else to say to him, you mustered up a smile through your obvious confusion and relative anxiety and bowed to him politely before pulling your hand out of his.

“Goodnight, Wooyoung.”

╚ ╝

When you arrived at your apartment, you collapsed in your bed almost instantly after finishing your nightly routine—plopping face down into your linens. The emotional weight of the day had completely tired you out, and you wanted nothing more but to sleep now. Letting out a thunderous, muffled groan into your bed sheets, you flipped your position to stare up at the ceiling.

Out of everything you had experienced today, only one thing— one person— was on your mind.

Jung Wooyoung.

And not the one thing that mattered which was keeping your job.

He kissed your hand. He flirted with you.

How could he be so careless to do something like that in public?

But he was so sweet. Gentle. Kind. Even staring up at the tall ceiling above you, you could perfectly trace out his smile with your eyes. The tender look he gave you when he called you “beautiful”. The spot on the back of your hand still tickled with the kiss he left behind, and you ran your fingers across it softly. His laugh made you weak in the knees and you could listen to it every day if you could. It made you laugh even thinking about it.

The words he said to you before you parted ways played on loop in the back of your head. You pondered for a moment if he was actually serious about them, but wiped the thought from your mind entirely.

You did not have the luxury for fantasies and what ifs. You had a job to do. The lives the two of you led were too different, continuing like this with one another would be dangerous. He was an idol. You only worked with him and nothing more. You could not allow yourself to be distracted by him any longer.

You had to come into work tomorrow focused.

And you did just that.

The next day, you came to KQ Entertainment a bit later than the other staff members at the request of the Director. You were more dressed down than yesterday now that you felt a little more comfortable. You wore a long sleeve, green, textured halter top with blue washed jeans that hugged against your waist, with green, suede sneakers you had made yourself. Your thick, kinky hair pulled into an up-do with wild strands falling across your forehead. Your makeup was done lightly, mostly highlighting your key features like your eyes, cheeks, and lips.

You greeted some of your co-workers as you passed them by in the hall towards your new office space. Flicking on the light in the still and empty space, you threw down your bag and immediately positioned yourself at the back of the room where you rummaged through the leftover clothing. Pulling a few pieces from the rack you folded them over your arm and turned towards the desk where you noticed something there that had not been there before.

Laying the clothes down on the table to get a better look, there had been a small rectangular box filled with the delicacies of Korean culture that you had grown to know over the half a year that you had been here, companioned with a beverage and a note that was written in the language left on top of it. Pulling the paper off, you put your months of studying to work and read the note.

You look even prettier with a smile on your face

so i hope this brings you one today, while i'm away

- Woo Young

So much for no distractions. You had just managed to pull yourself up by your bootstraps and insisted that you would not think about him again, just for him to go and do something like this.

You wanted to be angry , however you couldn’t help but smile.

“Ahh… Jung Wooyoung. You will be the death of me.” You ran your finger over the note and your heart fluttered.

You had never had anyone show you such kindness before. Regardless of his intentions, the gesture was sweet and you were grateful. Knowing that he was on schedule today saddened you a bit, but you had work to finish and now was the time to do it. Setting the lunch box he had gifted you to the side, you set your desk up with all of the equipment you needed and got to work.

Music played at a medium volume from the television across the room, giving you some kind of sound to work with as you attempted to create Wooyoung a dynamic look for his stage using the information you gathered from him yesterday. The sewing machine whirred as you raced against time, feeding it with a bright color that you imprinted onto the dark gray shirt you had found, which had taken a few hours at least to replicate it front and back.

Once it looked as good as you wanted it to, you cut the sleeves off of it, dipping down into the sides of the shirt so that the holes could give him some mobility while he was dancing. You would clean everything else up later, but your vision was coming to fruition. You continued on like this well into the late evening, and soon realized after almost pricking your finger with a needle, that you had not eaten a thing. Completely forgetting the meal that Wooyoung had left you hours before. You stood and admired your work, wiping the sweat off of your brow and nodded feeling accomplished with what you had gotten done.

Grabbing the box from the side table, you stepped out of the room and walked down the hall towards the break room that had a kitchen inside of it. There were a few lingering employees there, but it was mainly empty, not that it mattered to you. You stepped over to the microwave and heated your lunch before returning back to your work room, and to your surprise you found someone else there waiting for you.

You stopped in your tracks and peeked to the side to get a better look at them, but he did you the favor of turning around to greet you.

“Wooyoung? When did you-“

“I just popped in. Schedule ran a little longer than usual, but I wanted to check in on you. Something told me, you would try to work into the night if no one stopped you.” Wooyoung explained, looking you up and down from head to toe. “I see I was right.”

You snickered to yourself, walking back over towards your desk where you had been working. “Well, I have a job to do, fortunately enough for you. Somebody has to keep up with your image.”

“Sometimes work can wait. Look at you, you’re just now eating something and it’s almost eight o’clock.” He sounded as if he was almost scolding you, but more out of concern than anything.

You took the chopsticks apart that came with the meal, pulling open the plastic covering as your nose was hit with the most delicious aroma. “At least I’m eating now right?”

Wooyoung cursed under his breath and shook his head, “You’re really stubborn, you know that?”

You took a few bites of your food before setting the box to the side begrudgingly with a sharp sigh.

And for some reason, you snapped suddenly. “We only met yesterday and all of a sudden you think you know me?”

Wooyoung seemed taken aback by the tone in your voice, but for some reason you could not hide your growing frustration. “Well, I’d like to. But you won’t let me.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Why?” He asked sternly, furrowing his brows at you.

You laughed in disbelief . “Are you seriously asking right now? You’re an idol, Wooyoung. I work for you. I shouldn’t have even let you know as much as I have told you anyway..”

“If I cared about any of that shit, I wouldn’t have come here at all. I wouldn’t have asked you a single thing about your life. I meant what I said to you yesterday-“

“Jesus Christ..” You stood to your feet, completely thrown at his lack of understanding of your current predicament. “You don’t get it.”

“What??”

“This is so unserious. I am not having this conversation with you, Wooyoung! I have work to do.”

“Does anything else ever matter to you other than work?” Wooyoung retorted, standing to his feet now.

You quickly moved over towards the door and shut it. “Look, I don’t know what image of me that you have carved in your mind in the last twenty four hours, but you do not know me. I don’t know you outside of work alone. I can’t even believe that half of what you said yesterday was the truth or how many times you have said it to every other girl that works here with you.”

Wooyoung stepped closer to you, an uncontrolled fire burning deep inside of his gaze. You felt like you were shrinking in his presence alone the closer he got to you. Your eyes darted across his face, terrified of what his rebuttal to you would be.

“Ever since I saw you yesterday, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you for a second. I asked you every question under the sun just because I liked the way you spoke to me. I told you the dumbest jokes just to hear you laugh because your smile made me smile.”

“Wooyoung-“ You tried to stop him, but he continued speaking and moving towards you.

“I wanted you the moment you looked back at me. When you left me last night, all I did was think about you. Today, I couldn’t think straight without seeing your face. You have been the only thing on my mind from the moment we met. Time means nothing to me.”

Wooyoung was towering over you now. Your back was pressed against the curtains on the door’s window leaving almost no room between you and him. You hung onto every word he spoke like it was his last. They were tied together so beautifully that it was almost hard to refute them. You wanted to believe them, but none of his words changed your reality: the two of you couldn’t be together. You swallowed thickly, licking over your lips to soothe the dryness lingering there.

“This can’t happen, Wooyoung. We could lose everything if someone found out that the mere possibility of us existed. One scandal could ruin your career. My career.”

You were almost pleading with him at this point, you had worked so hard for this life only to have it threatened by the possibility of a prohibited moment of weakness. However, you could not deny that you did feel something for him, though it did not yet have a name. Maybe it was because you were lonely all this time and just needed someone to make you feel good, or maybe you were just desperate for attention but were lying to yourself to make you feel better. You weren’t sure.

But you felt something, you just couldn’t say the words.

“So they won’t know. They won’t have to.” His voice had lowered into a sweet whisper now that caressed your ears like a tender melody. Wooyoung pulled his tongue over his lips, flicking his gaze between your dark brown pools and your glossed pair. He placed a finger underneath your chin and tilted your head up to face him. “But if you tell me, right now, that you feel nothing for me…I’ll walk away.”

“I..” You desperately wanted to say the words. In fact you were trying to force them to come out, but your tongue could not forge the sentence in time. Your eyes, instead, we’re carving out the line in his lips and how much softer they looked up close.

You felt like your heart was going to pound out of your chest. The pressure of the moment building and building so fast that you couldn’t keep up.

Just say it.

“Nobody would know, right?” You exasperated.

Wooyoung nodded his head. “No one.”

As soon as he gave you the confirmation you needed, you pulled him in closer by the nape of his neck. Your lips crashing hungrily against the others like you had been waiting for this moment your entire lives. Your hand brushed through his dark tresses, gripping onto them as the kiss intensified. Your bodies pressed firmly against the other with no promise of letting go. You could taste his cool breath swirling in your mouth as his tongue pressed between your parted lips and claimed entry.

His strong hands found purchase on the back of your thighs after sliding over every curve in your frame. He pulled you up in the air, you instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved you over to a new— more comfortable location. To where, you had no idea nor did it matter to you where he chose. In the matter of seconds, you found yourself placed on a high platform of some sorts, completely stable against it and him. The cool surface he had you against being a dead giveaway that he had you against the vanity with him trapped right between your legs. The next thing you know you were tearing off his clothes. Removing the distressed denim jacket he had on and tossing it to the side, along with the dark graphic tee he donned as well. Each article of clothing hitting the ground with a thud somewhere. With his upper attire now removed, you could fully admire the true beauty of his skin tone — the way it shined in the light and melded beautifully against your own as you caressed his shoulders and chest. Meanwhile, Wooyoung started going for the buttons on your jeans, undoing the fastenings prior to tugging them off of your waist and letting them fall onto the floor, kicking them off to the side in one push.

Hands falling down the ripples of his abs and down to his dark colored sweats, you hooked your fingers inside of them and started to pull them downwards and Wooyoung assisted you, leaving him in only his briefs that showed the massiveness of his growing bulge.

“I want you..” You moaned into his mouth, breaking the kiss to speak, which Wooyoung took as an opportunity to dress your skin with his lips. Canvassing your cheeks and your neck with ticklish, pillowy love notes that made you smile.

“Tell me what you want baby hmm?” He cooed sensually, pulling back for a moment to look at you, taking note of your desperate and needy tone with a devilish grin. His hands ran up your thick thighs, feeling the warmth growing between them. His fingers lightly brushed against your lips, pressing into the fabric with his middle finger just to feel how wet you were. “You want to feel me like this?”

You groaned in response to his touch, biting down on your plump bottom lip as you watched him explore you. Wooyoung was enthused by your reaction, but even more so at the slickness he felt in your panties alone. You hastily nodded in response to his question.

“Fuck, you’re already dripping and I barely touched you yet.” Wooyoung brought the tips of his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them, which turned you on even more.

He kept his eyes on you the entire time he tasted you, taking those same two fingers and dipping them back into your crevasse, pulling your panties to the side while using his other free hand to hook one of your legs around him while the other remained spread, giving him a clear view of your pussy. Using the pads of his fingers he circled your clit, soaking the duo with your juices as you moaned out for him, slowly writhing in place.

You threw your head back from the sheer ecstasy and cried out at the ceiling above. “Ooh shit-“

“Look at me.” He commanded, bringing your focus back to him once more. “I want to see how pretty you look when you cum on my fingers.”

Wooyoung planted a soft kiss against your cheek just as he inserted his two digits inside of you, pushing past your slick walls and beginning to pump his wrist inside of you, picking up that speed and translating all the power into his forearm and then his entire arm. The room was filled with the harmonious sounds of your juices squelching against his hand and your pretty moans that were music to his ears.

“That’s it baby. Let it out..” Wooyoung coached into your ear, holding you tight while he watched his middle and ring finger appear and disappear inside of you repeatedly, fully coated in your liquids. “That shit feels good doesn’t it?”

“It feels so fucking good..” You cried out to him with a shaky voice. “Please don’t stop..”

The intensity of him pushing into you was almost too much for you to bear, but it just felt too good to have him pull back now. You wrapped your arm around where his wrist and forearm met and gripped onto him tightly, your toes curling at the sensation running through your body. You were teetering at the edge now— your eyes rolling steeply to the back of your head, your vision growing more hazy by the second. Wooyoung kissed the side of your head, your jawline, your neck rhythmically fulfilling your every desire.

You were growing closer to your end, every moan increasing in pitch and frequency. If there were anybody passersby outside the door, you were sure that they could hear you, but you almost didn’t care. It felt too good to hold back.

“Your moans are so pretty. I can’t wait to hear how good you sound when I fuck you…” Wooyoung growled into your ear.

You inched your hand up towards Wooyoung’s neck, cupping it just around his jaw and turning him towards you. “I want to feel you inside me. I can’t take it anymore..”

You searched his face for a moment. His eyes were glossed and practically sparkling with a deep, unsatiated lust. He had a need for touch— a thirst for it. A soul that required physical connection. That was a quality you both shared. Now that you experienced him, you couldn’t get enough and wanted more. If you didn’t have him now, you felt like you could explode. Wooyoung recognized this and pulled his fingers out of you, soothing your throbbing mound with the palm of his hand; giving you some time to breathe. He stepped back and removed his last article of clothing. His briefs hit the ground with a dull thud as his girth jolted from the seams, pointing stiffly towards you. Your mouth started watering at the sight. His dick was just as pretty as the rest of his body and the size fit him perfectly.

Inching towards you, the man pulled you off the surface of the vanity by your waist and eagerly flipped you around to face the mirror. With your frame slightly bent over the counter you saw him snake himself into the cusp of your neck, moving the thick strands of your hair out of the way so that he could see your face. “I want you to watch yourself.. don’t look away.”

You couldn’t believe that you were doing this. Tucked away in a dressing room with an idol. With him. At your own place of work. As much as you wanted some semblance of shame to come, it just never did. As all you could think about in this moment was him taking you and equally how bad you wanted him. You were reminded how good this moment truly felt when he planted a kiss on the exposed part of your shoulder and slowly eased his way inside of your slickness. Your mouth fell agape as did his; your tight walls gripping around the curve of his inches the more he pushed inside of you. His length fit you perfectly, as you completely gloved his inches.

“Fuck..” he whined. “You feel so good.”

With him so close, you could smell the freshness of his cologne. It was strong and commanding, but also hypnotic in many ways. His breath capes your neck, making your hairs stick up on end. His deep, guttural groans as he started stroking inside of your moist cavity only triggered your own moans. And still you did as he instructed you to and watched him fuck you so lovingly. The vanity rocked underneath your weight, causing you to slightly shift off balance and grip onto the table so it did not move. Wooyoung started to pick up his pace, the force of him hitting you from behind, sending your ass colliding against his pelvis in thick waves. He pulled back, catching the force head on as he reached forward and grabbed a handful of your coils and pulled your head back just a bit to where you can still see yourself in the mirror.

“Mmm, you’re such a pretty fucking whore for me.” Wooyoung chuckled lowly. “Look at how good you take that shit.”

The sensation was overwhelming your senses. Your walls pulsated across his thick member, releasing and gripping him constantly. Still reeling from when he was fingering you just a few minutes prior, you could still feel yourself coming closer and closer to your inevitable demise. The pressure in your abdomen was building like a dam about to burst. Even with the stamina that you two had, you could feel that he was close along with yourself. His breath was beginning to hitch and grow more rapid than before. You could feel his dick twitching inside of you as well even with the strength of his pumps.

You dared to stare at him amidst the euphoria you were experiencing out of curiosity as well as purely being enamored with the beauty of the man before you. You watched the way his chest rose and fell from his heavy breathing followed by the intensity of his orgasms. Sweat beads across his skin, giving way to the light that shines overhead. It was more pleasurable for you to know that he was enjoying himself as much, if not more, than you were.

Your lips curled upwards, licking across your own as Wooyoung sang your praises for taking him so well. Especially since it wasn’t just coming from anyone. Despite the circumstances of how you may have gotten here, you knew that he felt that this was more than just sex. You weren’t just engaging in a little hit it and quit it, no, it meant more. The purest form of connection that any person could ever experience, especially, when it stemmed from deep yearning – hoping that each other would wake up to the truth. There was no turning back from this moment forward.

“Fuck, I’m about to cum!” You exclaimed in a huff, urging him on as his thrust kept pumping into your tight walls, and his grin grew wider as he felt your coming climax brewing.

“That’s right, be a good girl and cum for me.” He coaxed. You felt like you were on cloud nine as you coated his dick with your juices. He leaned down into you, pressing your stomach against the table, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders and gripped your neck so roughly that you could see the veins in his arms poking from beneath his sandy skin.

Your moans were broken and incomplete, forming into a ball of nonsense tumbling from your mouth. You put the last bit of your energy into giving him everything you had, bucking your hips against his length.

“Cum in me baby..I want all of you. You primed softly. You didn’t know what came over you just then as you had never uttered those words to anyone before, but you just couldn’t control yourself in the moment and neither could he.

Sending his hips forward in powerful bursts of passion, Wooyoung growled hellishly into your ear the closer he got to his own end. The fullness of his climax painting your insides like his own personal canvas. You came with, riding out the last of your cum, before you dropped to the table, digging your nails into the wood and scratching against it from the final feeling of release. All your pent up frustrations over the last few months flowing down your thighs and onto his inches.

A light laugh escaped his lips, sighing as he closed his eyes and hovered over your weakened and fragile body.

“Do you think they’ll know?” He asked playfully.

You let out a half-hearted chuckle. “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

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dulcelovestoomuch · 2 years ago

Text

The Details of You // Mammon x Artist!reader

✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°

Before coming to Devildom, you were in the worst art block you had ever been in. No lines seemed right. Shapes held no meaning. You couldn't breathe life or passion into anything you worked on. Torn paper decorated the floors, snapped pencils rested on your desk, and sketchbooks laid bare.

Then, things changed. You met the others and it seemed you could find beauty in everything. You could find inspiration simply by looking around.

However, nothing gave you more inspiration than the avatar of greed. He had somehow become a muse. The pages of every sketchbook had a drawing of him. Portraits of smiles and frowns, of anger and sadness, of excitement and embarrassment. Somehow you could perfectly remember these expressions, as if they were etched into your brain by Mammon himself.

Yet, it sometimes grew frustrating.

You could eventually perfect his features, but sometimes struggled with drawing him without reference. On your worst days, something was always off no matter how much you redrew him.

So, it was simple.

You decided to ask him.

"Mammon, I have a favor to ask," You worked up the courage to say, interrupting his "concentration" on studying.

"You're' asking me for a favor?" Mammon tilted his head, "Sure, but ya definitely owe me one!"

He gave your a playful smile; it could rival the sun in your opinion.

"Uh, sure," You replied, "I've been running out of inspiration lately. Do you think I could draw you?"

Mammon raised a brow, "Is that all, human? Go ahead! Who wouldn't want to draw the great Mammon?"

You suppressed the urge to fondly roll your eyes, grabbing a sketchbook and pencils from you desk. You nudged some books to side with your foot, before sitting front of him. You both sat on the floor; Mammon waiting as you flipped to a blank page in your sketchbook.

"Okay, so just stay still," You said, grabbing a 3H pencil. You began with drawing the face, getting the general shape of his face down on paper.

"Ya got it, human," Mammon spoke, "Won't move a muscle,"

A few moments rolled by, silent and calm. Your eyes would lock onto his face every so often. You didn't know, but it felt piercing to Mammon. You staring at him with such a strong, focused gaze was something he wasn't used to. He gulped, his face burning and body itching to move. So, the silence came to an end.

"So," Mammon said, "Why did ya want to draw me anyway?"

You shrugged, grabbing a darker pencil to work on detailing his facial features. "Just wanted to,"

He opened his mouth to say something more, but snapped it shut when your gaze focused on him again.

"Do you not want me to?"

Mammon flinched, cheeks reddening, "I didn't say that."

"Then, let me work!" You huffed, focusing back down on the paper.

Mammon frowned, looking away. You sighed, placing the sketchbook at you side before inching closer to Mammon. You gripped him by the chin, forcing him to look at you. You could see his skin turn red; his eyes shook as his mouth opened and shut like a fish.

"W-Whaddya think you're doing?" He said, looking everywhere but you.

"I told you to stay still," You said, "Keep looking at me,"

"O-okay, I got it," Mammon stammered, "Ya don't have to keep holding my face like this,"

"Mammon," You said gently, "What's wrong?"

"Wha... nothing's wrong." Mammon pulled away, "Nope, nothing at all,"

"Mammon..." You grabbed his face again. This time he managed to lock eyes with you, but his skin turned from a muted red to crimson.

"Ya just... never drew me before," Mammon explained, "I ain't used to it,"

You sighed.

He is as adorable as he is frustrating. You move back to your prior spot, grabbing your sketchbook and pencil once more.

"Fine, just stay still, okay? I'm almost done,"

Silence continued, only the sound of breath and of pencil on paper was audible in the room.

Having him as a reference made the details so easier to grasp. It make life come easier to the paper before you. You could finally draw every detail you forgot and improve upon every detail you remembered.

When you finished, you put the pencil down.

"Finally finished? It took forever!" Mammon grumbled, "Let me see it,"

You handed the sketchbook to him. He took it with a confident grin, only to freeze when he saw it.

"Does it look bad?" You asked.

Mammon's cheeks burned a cherry red, "I-I mean... it ain't too bad to look at. It's a drawing of me after all!"

He stared at it for a few more moments.

"Well, can I get it back then?"

"Nope!"

A loud tear filled the air.

Mammon tore the drawing out the sketchbook, before running out the room with a shout of "thanks!".

You stood up, running after him. The chase would be unsuccessful, as you yelled at him to come back, but couldn't keep up regardless.

However, when you would later go to his room, your drawing would be there framed. Mammon would blush, ranting about how because it was a drawing of him, he had to put it in his room.

It wasn't because that drawing showed how you viewed him. It also definitely wasn't because it was a drawing you did of him, with so much care and detail that it made his heart melt.

His stuttering and stammering continued on, before you simply gave him a kiss and pulled him back to your room.

Maybe you weren't so mad at him taking it.

Maybe now you had a willing muse.

✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°✧˖°

This was my first fic in the fandom, just wanted to do something quick and simple, hope you enjoyed! (⌒▽⌒)☆

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x you #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x mc #obey me shall we date #artist!reader #Obey me mammon x artist!reader #obey me mammon fluff #obey me mc #shall we date mammon #mammon x reader #mammon x mc #omswd mammon #omswd mammon x reader #gender neutral reader #mammon x gender neutral reader #new to tumblr #dulcelovestoomuch

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kairiscorner · 1 year ago

Note

OMGG HII THIS IS MY FIRST TIME DOING A REQUEST I’M SO EXCITEDD

my idea isn’t good I’m sorry, it’s just so cliche

soo I had this idea where Miles 1610 and the reader are assigned as partners in some homework from the school (all of it can be in between itsv and atsv) and they just act like, you know, awkward teenagers. Reader is shy (and the fact that they have a little crush on Miles doesn’t really help the situation) but then the reader needed to take out some books of their backpack and Miles sees that they have an sketchbook and he’s “Oh you like to draw?” And reader is like “it’s probably the only thing I like to do😭” and then just have a cute conversation

sorry all the grammar mistakes, thanks for reading😭😭😭

OH HELLO ANON !! AWW, THAT'S SO SWEET ⁉️ you sound like such a dear, i'd love to do your req !! i hope you like this !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

shared hobbies. – miles 1610 x artist!reader

"morales, and..." your teacher was dictating the names of the partners assigned for a joint art project, and they turned their gaze to you, speaking out your name, finalizing the partnership between you and... him, miles morales. this would've been amazing news to you, because you were extremely familiar with this kid, mainly because of how cute his artworks were and how emotionally impactful his graffiti was.

you felt a shiver travel up your spine and caused you to sit up straight and look up from your sketchbook for the first time in a while. as the teacher dismissed everyone to find their partner to talk about their project, you froze the second you heard his sweet, languid voice and saw his big, pretty chestnut eyes looking into yours. "hey, partner." he told you with a grin as you smiled widely like a dork and nodded, extending your hand out to him for a handshake, initially, but then reverting to a high five, then choosing to just give him a fist bump when he held his palm out for a high five.

'why are you so indecisive?!'

"u-um, yeah, yeah, i..." you stuttered, moving your arms and hands away from your sketchbook–exposing your doodles, sketches, drawings, and concepts out into the world–after taking out several books to find the references you both needed for the project. it fluttered open when it hit the ground, and it remained on a page of a sketch you weren't very proud of. miles' eyes drifted from your face to your sketchbook, and his smile only got wider when he noted how creative you were. he looked away, though, when you realized he was staring; you were soon shielding your works that you promised would never see the light of day by anybody else, grabbing it and closing it shut immediately. miles chuckled and looked back at your now wide open eyes. "they look really pretty, sorry i stared, that was rude, um... i didn't realize you liked art, too." he said with an awkward yet excited laugh that made you laugh, too, out of embarrassment and intrigue.

"yeah, i, um... i don't really use just one technique, i... i use all kinds of materials, art styles, ah, it... might be easier if i just show you. th-this is all i do, really," you blurt out as you shyly flip through some pages of your sketchbook, all your designs and ideas just poured out onto every page; with nothing but pure soulful, emotional, and loving interest for the world, people, and life itself out on every once blank spot on the pages of your sketchbook. "i... can't really see myself doing anything but just picturing out like, how the world would look like in a different lens, how people would like to me, how the sky, sea, land and–" and then you realized, you were rambling.

miles listened to you eagerly as his eyes and heart took in every wonderful bit of the art you made; the unconventional aspects of your self-expression just made him even more interested in you, and grateful that, with the way things turned out, he might be able to get to know you more as not just your partner, class or schoolmate–but as a new friend; a friend that you... happen to like as more than just a friend.

"listen, you are so creative, it's inspiring me right now to think of some doodle and graffiti concepts that've been simmering in my head for a while–whaddya say to maybe having a drawing session with me at my dorm and just think of how to do this project with something more eye-catching, y'know? sorry, my dorm mate ganke might be there, though, but we can chill, too, if you want!" he offered with a smile as you blurted out in the heat of the moment: "i'd love to!" "w-well, that's sone enthusiasm... great! i-i'll see you around... 6?" he stuttered out all flustered, not expecting you to say yes, let alone immediately.

you nodded and smiled gently at him, causing him to smile back at you and stammer a lot more. 'wow, they're... really pretty when they're smiling, how come i just noticed this now?" he thought to himself as you got a little self-conscious from his involuntary staring and smiling at you, hiding from behind your sketchbook with wide eyes that stared back at him. miles realized he was staring and apologized, but you apologized for your staring, and you both got into this back and forth apology game that ended up with zero progress being done on your project, and a hundred and ten percent of progress on getting to know each other. it was gonna be the start of something, something really, really lovely between you two.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless

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raythekiller · 2 years ago

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um this is my first time requesting but 👉👈 could you do a fluff scenario with toby and his s/o who likes to draw and he happens to see a page of their sketchbook filled with doodles of him? tysm and i hope you have a nice day!

🗒 ❛ Artschool Wannabe ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Ticci Toby

#Notes: FINALLY something for my fellow artsy bitches

pronouns used: none, gn! reader

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

TOBY was sitting by the campfire, the darkness of the night completely surrounding the two of you, the trees so tall and grouped together barely any moonlight managed to make its way to the ground where you were sitting. The only sounds that could be heard were the every so often owl hooting, the fire crackling and your pen scratching against the paper of your sketchbook.

Toby, who was gathering some more kindling and throwing it in the fire below him, was blissfully unaware of how handsome he looked in this lighting. You, however, couldn't help but feel captivated by him, stealing glances every so often and trying to copy it on the paper accurately as to capture the moment.

"W-what are you-" He tics, letting out a whistle and jerking his neck to the side before continuing the sentence "What are you drawing t-there?". You look up at the boy now standing in front of you with a slightly startled gaze in your eyes, hugging the sketchbook against your chest out of embarrassement. "Oh! Uh... Nothing much." You reply in a low, slightly charged-as-guilty voice. "Can I- can I see it?" He asks enthusiastically, sitting beside you on the log. You know he loves your work, so saying 'no' to him is basically out of the question. You hand him the sketchbook, conflicted between averting your gaze out of awkwardness at being caught in the act or staring to capture his reaction, eventually settling on the latter.

If he wasn't wearing his mouth guard, you'd be able to see his mouth hanging slightly open in amazement, taking in every detail of the few different sketches you made of him throughout the day. His stomach fills with butterflies as he shifts his gaze towards you and you swear his eyes are practically shining with the happiness that has taken a hold of him at that moment.

"Y/N, I... These look a-amazing, th-" Another neck jerk, "Thank you so much, I don't even know w-what to say...". You can't help but giggle at his awe-filled expression. His reaction is as if you have just given him the best gift he's ever received in his life. In a way, that's not too far from the truth - you are the best thing that's ever happened to him, after all. He couldn't ask for anything else.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ray.writes

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tinytinyblogs · 2 years ago

Text

Hyunjin In Love With You

Love

(n.) Giving the last piece of pizza no matter how much you want it.

Stray kids masterlist here

Hyunjin loved art. He loved the way that he could mix colors to create new and beautiful shades. He loved the way that he could let his feelings flow through his art, and create something that was truly unique. He loved to draw everything that he found beautiful. He would draw flowers, landscapes, and even people. He loved the way that he could capture the beauty of the world around him in his art.

Hyunjin loved to walk around and draw anything that caught his attention. He would often spend hours wandering the streets, looking for inspiration. One day, he was walking through the park when he saw you. You were sitting on a bench, enjoying the day and letting the wind touch your skin. You looked so perfect, and Hyunjin was immediately drawn to you. He sat down on a bench across from you and started to draw. He captured the way the sun was shining on your hair, the way the wind was blowing through your clothes, and the way the smile on your face lit up the whole park.

Hyunjin finished his drawing and looked up, but you were gone. He had been so focused on his work that he hadn't noticed you walking away. He felt disappointed, but he knew that he would never forget you. He put the drawing in his sketchbook and took it home. He looked at it every day, and it always made him smile. He thought about the way you had looked when he was drawing you, and he felt a sense of peace.

Hyunjin was walking around the city, looking for inspiration for his art. He had been walking for hours, and he was starting to get discouraged. He was about to give up when he saw you. You were walking across the street, and you looked so familiar. Hyunjin stopped and stared at you, trying to remember where he had seen you before. Then it hit him. You were the one he had drawn in the park. He had been looking for you ever since.

He was amazed that your presence always made him feel much better. No matter what he was going through, as soon as he saw you, he felt a sense of calmness wash over him. Hyunjin was so excited to learn that you lived nearby. He started walking around not only to find inspiration, but he would also find you and admire you from afar. He loved the way you moved, the way you laughed, and the way you looked at the world. You were his muse, and he couldn't help but be inspired by you.

He would often find himself walking past your house, just so he could catch a glimpse of you. He would watch you from the window, or he would sit on a bench across the street and just watch you go about your day. He never said anything to you, though. He was too shy, and he didn't want to scare you away. But he knew that he would never forget you. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and he was so grateful that he had found you.

He had a few drawings of you already, and they were all perfect. He felt proud that he could capture your beauty in a way that no one else could. He knew that the paint made his art perfect, but he also knew that your beauty was already mesmerizing.

Hyunjin was getting ready for his exhibition. He had been working on this for few months, and he was finally ready to show it to the world. He had invited all of his friends and family, and he was so excited to see their reactions. He had also invited you. You were the one who had inspired him to start drawing again, and he wanted to share his art with you. He had sent you a special invitation, and he was hoping that you would come. You were a little bit surprised when a very handsome man suddenly approached you and gave you a special invitation for an exhibition.

You have always been my muse in my art. You are the one who inspires me to create my best work. You are the one who makes me want to be a better artist.

I hope that you will come and see how beautiful you are in my point of view. I want you to see how I see you, how I capture your beauty in my art. I want you to see how you inspire me.

Hwang Hyunjin

his name Hwang Hyunjin. You had never noticed the handsome boy around you before, but now he was standing in front of you, telling you that you were his muse. You were stunned. You had never thought of yourself as beautiful, but Hyunjin seemed to think so. You smiled at him, and he smiled back. "You really are beautiful when you smile," he said. You promised that you would, and then he left you blushing. You couldn't believe that Hyunjin thought you were beautiful.

The day finally came, and you showed up to Hyunjin's exhibition. You were amazed by his skill, and all the art on the wall really brightened up the gallery. You were so proud of him, and you were so glad that you had come. You walked around the gallery, admiring Hyunjin's art. You saw paintings, sculptures, and even a few drawings. You were so impressed by his talent, and you couldn't believe that he had created all of this.

You finally came to the special side of the gallery. There were a few drawings on the wall, and you couldn't believe your eyes. They were all of you. You were so touched. Hyunjin had drawn you, and he had captured your beauty perfectly. You couldn't believe how beautiful the drawings were. You stood there for a long time, just looking at the drawings. You couldn't believe that Hyunjin thought you were beautiful enough to draw. You felt so special. He named that painting as "My Muse".

"It's beautiful right?" You turned around to see him standing not too far from you, wearing a suit. He looked so perfect in it, and you felt your heart skip a beat. He paused for a moment, and then he said, "I really wanted to show you the drawing at first, but you had already walked away. You have no idea how happy I was when I found out you lived nearby. I don't mean to sound like a creep, but your presence really made my day when I thought I wouldn't be able to open this gallery. I was scared you wouldn't come today, but I'm so glad you're here. You look amazing as always." You stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. You could feel the connection between you, and you knew that this was something special. "I'm so glad I found you," he said.

He took a few steps closer, really close to you. He admired your beauty for a while, and then he said, "I've been admiring you from afar for a long time. I've realized that I'm falling for you. Can you give me a chance to know you more and maybe we can be more than friends?"

He didn't care about the other people passing by, admiring his work. He was too busy looking into the eyes of his crush. He knew that he wouldn't be able to look away. you had captured his heart.

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hoodievixen · 2 years ago

Text

With My Own Eyes - Part 8 (Dream of the Endless x OC)

Based off of this

Summary: Morpheus just wanted to keep his soulmate safe. She just wanted to make her own decisions. Doesn't help that he doesn't show her his face.

Words Count: ~ 2.7 K

Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, witchcraft, bad grammar and even worse spelling, !Comic Spoilers!

A/N: This is it, the end. (Almost forgot to upload it today... oops) Prepare for some angst.

Tag List: @intothesoul @ poemfreak306

Master List

Her bed was too soft. Instead she clambered to the ground, curling herself into a ball, backed into a corner, walls pressing into both her shoulders. Sibyl mumbled descriptors of everything she saw, ignoring the tears running down her face. She should lose herself to her emotions, she might start another fire. She didn't need to deal with that at the moment.

Even her tactic of keeping in the physical and not the mental was not working. As she was describing any item she saw in great detail, more items appeared. She swear they came in puffs of sand. The first was her bag she had left in her room in the Dreaming, then the paintings she made in the Dreaming, and every sketchbook she dared scribble in. Even notes of grimores she left in the library. Anything that could remind him of her he sent away.

Soon Lily was clenched into as small of a ball that she could get. Her breathing out of control, as the only thing she felt was lonelyness, complete and utter lonelyness.

----

Johanna wasn't sure what she was expecting for the loud banging at her door in the middle of the day. Defiently not Lily, drunk off her ass and crying. "You do know it's only three," Johanna commented, letting the closest thing to a friend she had lean into her.

It wasn't strange for Lily to disappear for days on end without so much of a word. However returning drunk was indeed new. "Heart break knows no time but sorrow," the witch sighed.

Johanna hated how she'd get poetic when drunk. Luckily Lily rarely gets drunk. "Did you get back tk get her with Jerome?" she wondered dragging in the drunkard. "You know that never ends well."

With uneven balance Lily stood up straight staring at her arm. Rarely did Lily walk around with her arms bare. Johanna knew Lily got annoyed with how people would come and touch her cause of her tattoos, but also that she was hiding her soulmate's name, something the magic user hasn't even seen, until then.

Johanna felt pitty for her friend. There scralled on her arm in pretentious writing was Dream of the Endless. She felt bad for Lily, connected to that prik by date. Clearly she didn't have good feeling a about it either, as the skin it was on was red and irritated with small scabs developing. Lily had been vigorously scratching at it, as if to remove it. Even in that moment she dug her nails in the raw skin.

"I'm guessing that prick's the reason your like this," Johanna commented, bringing in the witch to have her sit on her couch.

Lily glared at her arm. "I don't even know what he looks like," she said softly.

Johanna sat down, letting her sad friend lay down in her lap. "You aren't missing much," she commented, picking at Lily's hair. By the looks of it it hadn't been washed in days. "His hair's a mess, eyes are creepy, and personally his cheeks are bit too sharp for my taste."

Lily looked up to her friend, wide eyed and with fresh tears. "You know what he looks like?" she asked in disbelief. Silent tears ran down her face.

-----

Lily woke up with a hwad ache and a show back. "How much did you drink?" a annoyed voice asked.

She peaked up to find a familiar person, and in a familiar place. "I think like... too much,"she answered, though mind elsewhere. While she had grown used to not having dreams with being in the Dreaming, sh hadn't had one since she got back.

Johana stoop up from her desk, coming to sit down next to her friend." Are you going to tell me what happened, or are you going to try and skin your arm again?" She handed back Lily's dager.

Lily took it back, before throwing it in the pile of her jacket and shoes. It was then she noticed she had a thick bandage over her arm, where her soul mark was. She hated it now more than ever. "What have you figured out from my drunken rambling?" she wondered, placing a cold hand against her forehead.

"Well the oh so lovely Dream of the Endless sis somehow your soulmate, and refused to show you his face," Johana explained, "Which confuses me."

Sibyl sighed. "Basically dude kidnapped me, and we made an agreement I'd stay in his realm for about a month, before deciding if I'd stay or go."

"Did you try the teleportation spell?" she questioned her friend. Sibyl didn't have a long streak of being the most clever.

"Oh yeah," Lily assured her, "And I should have just finished it.

But I stayed, begrudgingly at first. Then I grew to not mind being there, than I liked it that, and..." There were words Lily wanted to say but couldn't bring herself to. Her eyes stung and heart ached at the thought of it.

She let out a deep breath. "The entire time he had on this monstrous helm, like seriously, spine trunk. He refused to show me his face. I was patient, but I couldn't let him continue to do what he wants without showing me he trusts me. I went to remove it myself, cause it was either taking that thing off or being done with our relationship. I thought he'd see logic and reason. Instead he took ending it not his own hands, sending me away... I haven't even had a dream since."

Lily looked to the floor, meloncholic. By some miracle, or dehydration, she wasn't crying. "I'm angry, sad, and so frustrated," she groaned, finanly getting to voice her feelings. "I don't even want to acknowledge we're soulmates. I don't even want to be soulmates. I'd do anything to get this fucking name off of me."

-----

Ripples through the universe are not common, but they do happen. So two happening within such quick succession of eachother was something to take interest in.

The second one struck sunthing deep within Dream. Something he had long since ignored and tired to forget. No matter what he had to go a see what it was, knowing nothing good will come from the visit.

It had been centuries since he last visited the Mediterranean island. He had never thought he would step foot on it ever again. The care takers asked no questions, but kept their haze to the ground, moving out of the Endless' path.

Dream stepped into the small build that had been his son's home for most of his deathless life. Or what had expected to be deathless. The caretakers had already prepared the head of Orpheus for burial.

There was only a handful of being that could bring about the end of Orpheus. Dream knew it was no of his siblings, none would do such a thing. Even Desire, after all his son was a means to an ends for his sibling. He had to wonder who, no what has killed Orpheus.

It could have eazily been missed. Tucked in the corner of the window sill was a flash of reflected sunlight. It was a large metal knife, no dagger. Dream kne that Dager, from one side being solver while the other iron, the worn and loved leather gril, and the protective charm carved in the pommel. The fish time he had seen it, it had been pull on him, the next it was covered in it's owners blood. Now it was clean, not a single drop of crimson. Red however, there was a strand. Near the blade was a strand of red thread, cut red thread.

Sibyl had been there, and somehow involved with the death of Orpheus. While she had powers more so than the average human, no witch would have the power to undo the deal between Death and her nephew. Something wasn't right. Not in the slightest.

Dream pulled up his sleeve, and urge that pricked at the back of his mind. He hadn't known what feelings he felt anymore for that name on his arm. He once loved it, bringing him hope, and was something he protected. But now it left a sour taste in his mouth. He had believed that Sibyl had been different, different for his past lovers, different from all other humans. She was the same as the rest. He knew that the moment she tried taking off his helm. Dispite his best effort to forget them, her words of trust did ring in his ears, causing a sliver of guilt. Had she had a point?

It did not matter anymore, as his arm was baren.

-------

Johanna thought she was finally done with all that. It had been a couple days since Lily last called her in tears or in anger. She couldn't blame her, but it was getting to be a lot. When the magic user felt a precense in her flat, she assumed the witch had somehow gotten in on her own again. Turning on the lights revealed otherwise.

There ein the middle of the room was something she did not want to see again. Even if only in her dreams. "Why are you here?" she asked Dream of the Endless.

"Constantine," he said in a low tone. "I need your assistance with finding someone."

Johana gave him a look of questioning. "Can't you just wait until they fall asleep?"

Dream's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. "They have somehow managed to disconnect themselves for myself and realm entirely."

Johana noticed how his gaze lingered down at his arm. She scoffed. "If it's Sibyl Crow you are looking for," she started, "You entirely deserve what she's done."

Dream glared at the woman. "How do you know Sibyl?"

Johana rolled her eyes, "You really think a magic user and a witch living in the same city wouldn't at least be aware of eachother."

"You appear to be more than acquaintances," Dream continued to push.

"That's cause Lily's a clinging bitch," Johanna groaned, "She's so lonely she'd befriend a rabid dog..." No matter what she had tried, she couldn't get rid of the witch. She just gave up after a while.

She had already pulled out her phone to call the witch. Maybe he'd go away if Lily herself told him to fuck off. It went straight to voicemail. Johanna let out a sigh of annoyance, though not concerning.

"Have you tried her flat?" Johanna asked. It was still early into summer break, there wouldn't be a reason for her to be working yet.

"It is warded against my entry," he explained.

"Well lucky for you, I got a key," she answered, pulling said key from a drawer. Sybil had put it on a rediculous key chain of a pink puff ball, as to prevent Johanna from loosing it.

--------

Sibyl's flat was a mess. Not that it usually wasn't. However there was the makings of a pyramid of empty cans, both of energy drink and alcoholic. Lily wasn't much a fan of either, never consumes the in large quantities. Take out Containers filled the trash can, as well as plenty of counter space. Usually she kept her witchcraft neatly packed away in the small dresser that was her alter, yet scattered about her entire apartments were books on anything mildly unnatural in subject, maps of laylines and other things Johanna didn't understand.

Something caused her heart to stop. "She wouldn't," Johanna mumbled, grabbing at the pages of scarred notes about the apartment. She barely payed attention she Lily called her, thinking the witch just needed someone to rant to. Still Constantine caught it in bits and pieces, Sibyl was looking for a way to sever her fate from Dream's. "Lily's dramatic, but she wouldn't pay that price," she tried to reason with herself.

"What do you know Constantine?" the Endless demanded.

"Please tell me her names still on you," Johanna pleaded. She would deny it to anyone who asked, but Sibyl was her friend, someone she could trust her life with. She didn't want to loose her just like everyone else.

Dream looked away, giving the exrocist all the answer she needed. Johanna dropped the pages, which would take her too long to understand at all. "Fuck," she groaned, "Sibyl, what did you do?"

------------

Sibyl had severed her fate from his. It fit right in with all other failures of relationships he has had. This one had the most promise, but had lasted the shortest. Dream would teuely never love again. Still Sibyl payed a price because of his actions. If he couldn't pay part of it, he would at least want to know what it was.

Destiny may have had it written in his book, but he wouldn't share it with anyone, nor even his brother unless it said he would. There was a much more for sure way to learn what occurs in fate. To talk to the Fates themselves.

"I, Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, summon the fates," he called to the universe. He had gathered his offerings, prepared to pay the price. "The three who are one, the one who is three." Something was different, there wasn't the same reaction of the world around him to the called of The Three.

"I'm gonna stop you there," some called from behind him, "It's one who is one now."

Dream turned around not believing his ears. There stood Sibyl, though not the same as before. Her arms were bare, of both his name and her tattoos. Her clothes shifted colors like an aurora boreal is, her hair floating in a breeze that was not there. Her eyes....

-----------

Sibyl stood in the circle of her own making. Chalk of frowned calf bones, spores from a mushroom grown on the corpse of a deer, and the blood spilled from the womb. Those were just in the outline, Sibyl was not proud to tell what took her to gather everything for the spell. She held her bleeding arm out before her, calling to the universe. "The three who are one, the one who is three, the Hecate."

The wind and rain which had gradually grown around her was all but silent in that moment. "We haven't been summoned by one such as you in a long while, child," a voice beyond years croaked.

Sibyl turned around to find three woman standing before her. She was quick to fall to her knee, stoll holding the offering of her own blood to them. "Please I ask of you, sperate my fare from his," she pleaded, "I do not wish to be bound to someone who can't trust me with the most simplest of things."

"Child, raise your head," a soft voice called out to her. Sibyl hesitantly looked up.

"Oh lovely," the maiden cooed, "We gave you a hard fate, that would come with many reward of you shall over come it."

"We over you this advice for what you have given," the crone continued, "Have hope."

Sibyl gribded her teeth. She was sick and tired of supernatural beings thinking less of her. "I didn't ask for advice," she hissed, "I gave you a sacrafice, just get this name off of me."

The mother reached out and stroked Sibyl's cheek. "You know better than to seek tk your elder than that, your auntie taught you better."

The maiden replaced the mother, her had on the young witch's cheek. "Your blood may be special, but no amount of it will be the price to do what you want."

Sibyl let out a deep breath. "I will pay whatever price," she confessed.

"Your soul," all three said at once. The crone stepped away from the girl. "You're human soul." The wind started to pick up once again.

"It binds you to this world," the maiden said.

"It binds you to the ones you love," the mother.

"To unbind you, we must take it," the croan.

The wind had became much worse than it had before, picking up dirt and howling in the night.

"We three will become one, and you will become we," the unified voice of three bellowed over the wind. "All magic come with a price. You know that well. A price for a price, only for something great. What it will be up to you, and not me."

------

Her eyes held no color, just white. Though she was looking at him, she wasn't seeing him. "Do you need to ask?" she said sarcastically, "As you can clearly see what price I payed." Sibyl gave up her sight to become the physical embodiment of fate, which she did to sever herself from him. He wonders of that was the plan all along. Him fated to be alone, for ever.

#Sandman #sandman x reader #sandman x oc #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x y/n #morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus x original character

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l3ominor · 1 year ago

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What's your art journey? How did you learn it and get to where you are now?

HAHFHFKDB HI

Ooh art! Okok so I started sketching when I wasssss six or seven? I mostly drew dragons. Dragons sitting on flowers, dragons in caves, dragons brutally murdering each other, the normal stuff a small child should draw. When I was about 11, I started drawing people. Characters for the books I was writing. I also started drawing dragons better(tracing out of the Wings of Fire books). Pretty much all of my begining art skills came from tracing. I never took an art class or watched tutorials on YouTube. At about 15, I was drawing people more than animals, and I started doing some vague angsty comics(I was fully in angsty depresso emo teen phase). A lot of my art then was either angst with my characters, or abstract representations of my emotions. I was also obsessed with Marvel so I was drawing weird fanfic crossovers between Marvel and my charries. I was also doing a ton of tracing out of 'how to draw manga' books, which was kinda what solidified bits of my style. After that, I started sketching every day. I drew scenes, characters, and attempted doing comics in notebooks. I started experimenting with digital art around the end of 2019, mostly scanning stuff in from my sketchbook, then coloring it in with an airbrush tool. After that it was more tracing, more improvising, and more chaos in general. I was drawing pretty much 24/7. In 2020, I started focusing more on comics. I actually spent two years drawing a comic scene in a lined notebook. I took that think with me e v e r y w h e r e, and actually had to safetypin the cover, the back, and the first several pages back into the notebook because it was so worn. Begining of 2023 I started college, and took my first art classes, a watercolor class and an oil painting class. I also started working on Recalled, and since then, that has been my primary art focus. Pretty much my whole art journey has been a mess of tracing, staring at references, hyperfixation, and emotion dumping, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. My art is my passion and my dream, and I love sharing it with people!

Thank you so much for the ask! Hopefully I didn't infodump too much ':D but yeah! Thank you!

#l3o asks and answers!#thank you so much for this ask!#i dont get to infodump often #especially about this topic #but yeah!

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lionessshychai · 6 months ago

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Wildflower Intro:

“All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.” -Picasso.

There's nothing quite like the smell of a Spring day when it's raining. The scientific term for that lovely scent is "Petrichor". It's beautiful how that seems to happen in any given part of the world, but spring in Seoul hits differently. That delicious scent meets the welcoming perfume of cherry blossoms and everything seasoned with gochujang. It's refreshing and sweet, and then, at the last second, a peppery smoke hits you in the face with a hot burst of red chili just to see if you're paying attention. It's one of those things you need to experience to really understand.

This is my second trek to South Korea since I earned my business and marketing degree two years ago, a feat that even I didn't think I'd pull off in time, much less what everyone in my family expected.

Wasn't I supposed to be a famous artist when I grew up? My many works on display for my visitors to admire while they drank their espresso out of tiny mugs and stared at, fixing their postures in intellectual poses while muttering wise interpretations. "Ahh, this one speaks to my subconscious self". -Big dreams when you're eight and see the world through a swirly straw.

I grew up in a typical middle-class American family. Not exactly well-off, just the kind of family that eats tuna casserole a few times a month and never goes on vacation, unless you count the two-hour drive to Kalaloch Beach every summer. We'd play in the tide pools and make a pitstop at Kurt Kobain's hometown on the drive up. (A request always given by my older brother, Oliver who worshipped Nirvana.) My younger brother, Tan, was content in his oblivion playing Gameboy the whole trip, and not usually a bit bothered to get out of the car to see the shoreline. I sketched everything I possibly could into my ratty old Batz Maru sketchbook that was held together precariously by a hair tie. I'd sketch the outline of the boulders sitting like giants in the tide as the waves lapped their edges, the tall cedar trees lining the shore, the seabirds diving and weaving through the salty, foggy air.

Carefree days at the shore were replaced with practical notions like "income" and "livelihood" during junior year and dimmed my creative sparkles. “No one can live on an artist’s income, Mags, no matter how good you think you ar,.” Dad told me. Well, dad, thanks for the vote of confidence.

A few spins around the sun, countless all-nighters, and a mountain of student debt later, I somehow wound up with an MBA in International Marketing. Honestly, It's still crazy to see "Maggie Marsden has been awarded the Masters of Business Administration- Marketing and Strategy..." hanging on my wall in its pretty brushed gold frame, and yet, I had a feeling that I still hadn't quite washed all the oil paint out from under my fingernails.

I still love art, but my sketchbook must be collecting dust somewhere beneath a pile of textbooks and graph paper stained by rings of French Roast.

I started basic Korean about a year ago when my bestie Hana got me hooked on watching K-dramas. Her family is Korean-American and she grew up speaking the language. She's been spending the last two weeks quizzing me with her homemade “Hana Hangul” cards. I feel lucky that I absorb it well. I am by no means fluent in anything but English and Spanish, but I'm a quick study. Long story short, I now work for Focus Marketing and Advertising. They needed someone with a fresh college mind and a happy tongue to go to Seoul and brainstorm some promo for one of their artists. My would-be client is an artist known in South Korea as an "idol" :

(Korean: 아이돌; RR: Aidol) refers to a type of celebrity working in the field of K-pop music in fandom culture in South Korea, either as a member of a group or as a solo act. K-pop idols are characterized by the highly manufactured star system that they are produced by and debuted under, as well as their tendency to represent a hybridized convergence of visuals, music, fashion, and dance.

This particular idol is releasing their first solo album. The record label is currently facing a need to improve their image and generate positive media attention to boost album sales internationally.

So, their people work with my people to create something that works for both record sales, merchandise, and various other necessities for the success of both the label and the artist.

I asked my younger brother, Tan to keep an eye on things at my place while I was gone and to occasionally water my Monstera plant "Lizzo" that sits in my front entryway. I've had her since junior year of college and now, her big ass takes up most of the foyer. I called Tan one more time before my plane started taxiing the runway at SEATAC airport.

“You have ONE job, Tan! Lizzo needs you!” I reminded him for the zillionth time that the lock on the front door is funny and you have to pull on the knob as you turn the key. I could hear Tan’s eyes roll through the phone.

“Anything else?” he mumbled sleepily.

“Yeah, get your ass up, it’s almost six.” Little bro is a senior in high school and is aiming high for UCLA, though I don't see him earning that scholarship since he's screwed around so much. Mom and Dad couldn't afford that tuition in a million years. He'd be lucky to get into any community college at this point.

Tan groaned. “Fuck. I’m up, I'm up. Hey Mags, bring me back a shitload of Buldak. You know, the ramen with the fire-breathing rooster on it?”

"You know there's an H-Mart in Tacoma, don't you? They have a shitload just for you. You can stop by after you visit Gram Saturday and give her those old copies of Vogue I put on the entryway table. It's the glass one with the Chagall vase and the photo of Dad at Pike market."

I could audibly detect his mockery after I spoke the word "vase".

“vahhhhzzz.” He snickered.

"Tan, you shit! Did you hear anything else I said? Glass table." I huffed.

"Yeah, yeah, I know the one. I'll stop by your place after the gym." He then wished me a 'good flight, no puke’ and ended our very cordial call.

Preparing my anxiety for takeoff, I opened a playlist named "Chill Cello" on Spotify. I stared blankly at the flight attendant going through the safety spiel while I sat in a basket of nerves. I've flown dozens of times, why does this never get easier? I always end up white-knuckled with sweaty palms and I probably look like death because the flight attendants always check on me, asking how I'm doing with a very concerned tone in their voice. They immediately offer the premium beverages, and without fail, I usually get a whiskey highball and konk out 30 minutes into the flight. Off we go. I'm fine...

#bts fic #namjoon x reader #bts army #bts #kim namjoon #WildflowerBangtan

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multistanisms · 1 year ago

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Soft Notes & Gentle Shades | Shadowhunters

Shadowhunters

Alec x Magnus

Word Count: 1,246

One Shot, Part of my College Dorm Series

Living together has brought some complicated feelings for young artist Magnus and vocal prodigy Alec. The moments where they can sneak loving looks are some of the most treasured.

Being roommates with a music major wasn’t as terrifying as Magnus had originally suspected. Alec’s preferred instrument was an acoustic guitar, thank Nyx, and more often than not, Magnus found himself listening quietly to the lilt of Alec’s voice as he practiced the assigned music or worked on covers for his hobby posting covers on youtube. Sometimes he would just sit and watch, enjoying the way the slightly younger male got into the music. It was beautiful and inspiring. Magnus would never forget the first time he picked up a charcoal pencil and began rough sketching Alec leaning back on their couch, fingers strumming as he taught himself “Thinking Out Loud”. Drawing Alec was something Magnus did to try and keep his feelings for his roommate and friend in check. Today had been rough, professor Fairchild critiquing works meant to be reminiscent of Van Gogh and only a handful of his classmates got a decent amount of praise. Magnus himself had gotten a fair bit of it, but he hadn’t been satisfied with his work, and he had admitted as such. Professor Fairchild - his favorite of the art teachers he’d had - had smiled as she patted his shoulder and explained that it was okay to not like every work he created.

“Sometimes things didn’t fit our usual style, Magnus. It’s okay to not feel complete when we try something new for the first time.”

Magnus had smiled and offered to let her keep his painting, since he didn’t feel he would do anything with it. The lovely woman had agreed and before he’d left, he had helped her hang it next to the vast window near her desk - the forest creek beautiful, but to Magnus not complete. So he’d walked back to the dorm room and gone to put his things in his room, waving at Alec as he passed the other on the couch, smiling back when the blue eyed man smiled and waved as he held his guitar. He set his bag in his room and grabbed his homework, going to the other couch and opening his textbook to read about the Rococo period with Alec's voice in the background. After finishing the needed chapter and filling several pages in his notebook with notes for the next day, he stopped to get a snack from the kitchen, pausing as he actually began listening to the song Alec was singing. Why was his roommate so damn beautiful? It should be illegal and to top it off, Alec was so talented it was unreal. Magnus was in awe as he watched Alec, the other so lost in the music that he didn’t notice Magnus staring for a long moment. Dark eyes closed and Magnus had to shake himself as he moved back to his spot, pulling his sketchbook from the pile of stuff on the coffee table between them, pulling out one of his finer pencils and glancing up as he began to draw his roommate.

Alec wasn’t sure how to respond when he finished the practice of the cover he was working on to find Magnus drawing on a sketchpad. “Mags?” The nickname pulled Magnus from whatever he’d been working on, and he smiled, dark eyes so loving Alec melted inside. Why was Magnus always so perfect? But after a moment he figured he should say something, so he opened his mouth. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I just...I heard you singing and it just kind of...sparked something. I needed to draw it.” Magnus replied, eyes going back to the page and smudging something the lightest bit.

“What is it?”

The artist shrugged a little. “Nothing major. Just a doodle, really.” he replied, waiting a moment with his lip caught between his teeth. “Will you sing again for me, Alexander?” The inquiry came with a smile and Alec forgot completely that he hadn’t been singing for Magnus, or even to his roommate. But he nodded and moved to make sure his guitar was in tune again, letting the song flow from him as he played.

“Pick up the pen, put it on the paper, Write on my skin, bring me to life. Can’t start again, there ain’t no eraser, All of my flaws, you got them so right.”

He didn’t notice as Magnus twirled his fingers to rotate the pencil before the other went back to work, Magnus shading and drawing without looking.

“Everything is blank until you’ve drawn me. Touching on my body like you know me. Write on me, color outside the lines. Love the way you tear me up, baby take your time. Write on me, give me some wings I’ll fly. Love the way you tear me up, I’ll never change my mind.”

Magnus didn’t need to look up to get the details right. He’d been drawing Alec for almost two years, after all. But it all came to life as he brought the image to life, drawn in by the music. The faintest smile curving Alec’s lips as he sang, the easy way slender fingers moved along the neck of the guitar, even the way the light filtered through raven hair. Magnus smiled as he filled in places and left others empty, the image perfect as he set the pencil down and closed the book, getting up to wash the pencil residue from his hands. “Should I give you some time to film so you can post?” he asked, looking over at Alec from the little kitchen island as he washed his hands off and dried them.

Alec looked up and smiled. “No, I’m not posting this week. The state contest is this weekend, I won’t have the time to edit. Besides, it’s not quite where I want it to be.” he answered, looking up as he put his guitar away. “How’d the critique go?”

“Good, I just didn’t feel like my piece was complete. Professor Fairchild has it in her room now.” he replied, smiling. “She loved that I went with the nature aspect. Most everyone went with self portrait style.”

“I don’t see why you didn’t do the self portrait.”

“I’m not good at drawing myself, Alexander.” Magnus replied, bringing a soda from the fridge over and handing it to Alec. “Are you nervous about the competition?”

“Not as worried as I was. We finally got results, and I was second chair.” came the reply as Alec popped the cap from the soda bottle and took a drink. “I mean, yeah, I’m still practicing, but I’m not as super worried about it like I was last week.”

“You’ll be fine, Alexander. One more patch and trophy, right?” Magnus teased, not missing the blush on Alec’s cheeks as the other bit his lower lip.

“I’m glad you don’t put much emphasis on my singing. That’s all some people see.”

Magnus arched a brow from where he had situated with another textbook. “Alexander, there is so much more to you than people believe. Maybe it’s because I have such a close relationship with you day to day, but I know there’s more to you than that angel’s voice of yours.” He gave an encouraging smile and Alec smiled back and when he looked back to his book, Alec moved to pick up his own textbook and the two fell into comfortable silence. Magnus didn’t comment on the fair blush painted along Alec’s face, and Alec didn’t mention the way Magnus’ eyes had lit as he’d said the words ‘close relationship’.

#making a fantasy…a beautiful galaxy ✾ my fics #shadowhunters fanfic #shadowhunters fanfiction #shadowhunters #malec #malec fanfiction #malec au

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strawberryflavoredvenum · 4 months ago

Note

It's done.

I'm a little nervous because I haven't really written fanfiction since middle school. It's not professional or anything lol. Here it is.

Judge angel x bloody painter

Perfection

A word that is often written off to be impossible. But for Dina, it was an expectation she upheld every day. She lived her life based on a strict routine. She was an angel after all. She was fair and beautiful. Perfect.

In a mansion of killers and supernatural entities, Dina didn't have much interest in making friends.

She didn't work for the operator per say. At least, not the way the others did. Slenderman allowed her to live on a property a mile away from the manor. He brought her the security of not being found by authorities or her father's associates until the case got cold.

In turn, Dina sifted through the jobs the man needed done and took the ones that fit her agenda. She even helped with domestic disputes in the manor when it was needed.

She was a judge after all.

The others don't bother Dina.

They stay away from her and she doesn't attempt contact outside of what was needed.

Except for one.

An artist.

He skulked around the manor quietly and kept to himself.

She had never needed to interact with him since he didn't fight with the other proxies.

The only reason she knew of his existence was through his art and the offense it brought to her.

An off white, torn piece of parchment with reddish brown strokes. Its metallic stench made Dina recoil.

What a repulsive display of disrespect.

To capture her in such an awful light.

It was clear he was a skilled artist, which made it worse that the drawing was so flawed. It was intentional.

A personal slight against Dina.

She stared at the partly crumpled parchment.

She had never interacted with the artist. Given him no reason to want to insult her like this.

More pieces came before she confronted him. She thought it would be a one time thing but no.

Papers were left on the trail by her property where she would find them. This was deliberate.

Every one of them, the same. Flawed. A big harpy like creature with pitch black eyes and sharp feathers. White stained robes. It made her sick.

It was not hard to find the man responsible. It did take time though. He rarely left the manor and she didn't want to interrupt missions assignment by slender. She eventually found him on the trail by her home. Sketching what she imagined would be the next "art piece" to show up later. He was a scrawny man with longish black hair and a monotone demeanor.

He didn't react the way she thought he would.

He gave an anxious smile.

"It's you!" He turned his sketchbook around to show his latest piece.

She stood there, infront of him. He didn't stand to greet her, but moved from a sitting position, to his knees.

"Is this supposed to be me?" She held up another drawing she found a day ago. Not quite angry, but not happy either.

The man nodded happily.

"You're my latest muse. I've never seen an angel before."

He has a look in his eyes. Something she couldn't quite place.

"Is this how you see me? A harpy?" She looked down at the creature he had drawn

The man's smile straightened.

He looked down at his latest drawing. It was just an outline for now. He had yet to paint it.

"To me... it's perfect."

Dina was caught off guard. She hadn't thought about the possibility that the artist was inspired by her. He saw perfection in her and wanted to replicate it. He must've been watching her for a while.

Dina looked back to the painting in her hand. Each new illustration she finds is more and more accurate to her. She was not happy with it. The artist did not draw what he thought she would want to see.

But what he felt.

He saw a entity with black eyes and white robes, that only appeared when there was conflict in the manors. An arbiter of peace.

He didn't draw her pretty or majestic.

He drew her strong and empowered.

She chuckled at the painting in her hand. Despite his insight, he didn't know her well enough to draw her eyes correctly. They were inky black wells on the page.

"You know... my eyes are not pitch black. If you look closely, they sparkle."

"Maybe your art would be more accurate... If you were with me when you drew?"

The artist stood up slowly. "Lead the way miss."

BP x judge angels :D?

I've never thought about this before omg.

I'll look up some fan art and think about the dynamic before writing.

Thank you so much!

#dina clark #judge angel #bloody painter #helen otis #creepypasta ship #ship #fanfic #fanfiction #bp #dina x helen #judge angel x bloody painter #helen #Dina #dina angela clark

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seospicybin · 2 years ago

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SATURN.

Hyunjin x reader. (s,f,a)

Synopsis: Realized that Hyunjin's true love will always be his art, you decided to move on with your life to only cross path with him once more. (6,7k words)

Author's note: Don't say I didn't warn you!

Black and blue.

Hwang Hyunjin had been painting his canvas with those two colors, black and blue, and the hues in between.

"What are you painting?" You asked as you took a little break from your painting to see him working, at how he immersed himself in it, becoming one with his art.

"I dream my painting and I paint my dream," he responded with the Van Gogh quote he always uttered to you whenever you ask almost the same question every other day.

Or to be exact every Saturday afternoon.

You took a painting class because it had always been your hobby since you were a teenager. You love it simply because it's relaxing to you and you feel a little more alive when you paint. Many people said you have a talent for it and a lot more people had coaxed you to make your hobby into a career but you opposed the idea.

That would be a dream job, of course, doing something you love and making money out of it.

But sometimes, your hobby should stay as a hobby, or else it wouldn't give you the same excitement as it used to and ruin the experience for you.

You prefer working a normal job to make money and do something you love once a week, that was more than enough for you.

For Hyunjin though, it's a whole different thing.

Painting is more than just a hobby, something he does once a week or to pass time, it's his life. He believes it's what makes him, him.

He does it because it's the path he chooses for him, to be a painter and to be acknowledged by people as one.

He has the talent his skill is above everyone in the class and you believe the only reason he attended the class is nothing but to paint more.

You wouldn't say you knew him, you didn't know each other apart from you always sitting next to each other and chatting a little during class. You weren't that close to being considered as friends, well acquainted was more like it.

"See you next week!" You say to each other after class and after that, you went to your respective homes. It was never more than that.

Except on that one rainy day in spring.

It wasn't like you have anything to do for the rest of the day, you decided to wait for the rain to stop by sitting on the big windowsill with the raindrops tapping against the glass.

You took out your sketchbook and pencil case when Hyunjin came then sat at the other end of the windowsill.

"It's a spring rain," he said, also taking out his sketchbook.

"What are you going to draw?" You asked and regretted asking because you could guess what his answer would be.

"You," he shortly replied.

You pursed your lips, guessing if he was joking or not.

"And I'll draw you!" you said back and not getting any complaints from him.

It was more like a challenge you put on yourself, you knew it would be hard to draw him, impossible even. He's so beautiful, his facial features are sharp yet delicate, God must have taken his time creating him, making him the most beautiful human you ever laid your eyes on.

"Beautiful necklace!" He beamed.

You glanced up from your drawing when he already looked down at his drawing, your hand flew to your necklace, rubbing the pendant between your thumb and index finger, "thanks, it's a family heirloom."

Since you were already looking at him, you looked at him intently, observing his face to catch something no one has ever seen on him or something subtle that people miss.

You leaned in close and he glanced up to find you staring at him, "what?"

You squinted your eyes and touched the faint mole under his eyes, "I didn't notice this before!"

You leaned back and continued drawing, trying to draw him as best as you could, trying not to at least, made a disappointing drawing of him.

When the rain turned into drizzle, you finished drawing him or what you thought is the best drawing you could ever do of him.

"I'm finished!" You said, looking at him who was still deep in concentration with a crease formed between his eyebrows.

He flipped his sketchbook shut and looked up at you, "let me see!"

You hesitated to hand it to him, your finger fiddling with the spine of your sketchbook, gripping it tightly.

He held out his hand at you, long fingers adorned with rings reaching out at you.

"Let me see!" he said again.

You reluctantly gave your sketchbook to him, getting a little anxious as he took it and flipped it to the drawing you did of him.

His fingers trailed the paper as if he was touching his face, feeling every stroke of your pencil on it.

"I'm not good at doing portrait drawing," you quickly told him, giving him an explanation even though he was quiet the whole time he looked at your drawing.

Then he ripped the paper out of your sketchbook and put the drawing in his book, "I'll take this!"

Your eyes widened in surprise, "You have to pay for that!" You joked.

He roughly shoved his sketchbook into his bag, "how about dinner?"

"Huh?" You got confused by his answer.

"I'll pay it with dinner," he said again then got down from the windowsill.

You were joking, you didn't think that he would take it seriously. Then you checked the time on your phone and it was hardly five pm, "but it's too early for dinner."

He shrugged and hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder, "do you have something else to do?"

Would it be embarrassing to tell him that you don't have anything to do on a Saturday night? Or every Saturday night for that matter?

"I don't have any plans... no," you settled with a simple answer.

"Okay then, let's go!" He offered his hand to help you get off the windowsill.

The rain has stopped completely when you walked out, he asked where you live so he could think of a place to eat somewhere in the area.

It was the most personal thing he ever asked you and he did it for your convenience.

"Where do you live?" You asked back since he asked yours and it was appropriate to ask for his as well.

"I live downtown," he vaguely answered while swiping his card to enter the subway station.

There were a lot of eyes looking your way, but when you looked twice, they were actually on Hyunjin. You understood that he's pleasant to the eyes, it would be hard to not glance his way.

When you looked at him though, he looked unbothered and you thought he must be so used to this.

He grabbed the strap of your bag and pulled you to the side as someone walked past you.

"What about noodles?" He asked.

"Hmm?" Your mind was elsewhere a few minutes ago and then he asked you out of the blue.

"Noodles for dinner?" He asked again.

You squinted your eyes at him, "Come on, my drawing isn't that bad! I think I deserve meat for dinner," you teased him, nudging his shoulder and earning a small smile from him.

He squinted his eyes as well and considering your offer, put an arm around your shoulder to keep you close in the crowded train in the early evening on a Saturday.

"I wouldn't say it's bad but—"

"I was joking. I'll take anything for dinner!" You quickly told him, hoping he didn't take your joke seriously again.

The train stopped at your station and he let go of your shoulder to hold your hand, leading you out of the train.

"How about both?" He asked, still holding your hand as you both climbed the stairs out of the station.

You turned your head at him and squinted, "did you read my mind?"

To wait until dinner time, you stopped by a bookstore where he recommended you his favorite novel and in return, you recommended him a book from your favorite poet. That ended up with you buying a copy for him.

"I already have a copy at home so please take it!" You pushed the book to his chest and he looked at it, having no other choice but to accept it.

"Thank you!" He muttered.

By the time dinner was served, you were already hungry, famished even. It seemed like Hyunjin was the same that nobody talked but kept stuffing your faces with food.

At one point, you both looked at each other and burst out laughing at how ridiculous you looked.

You took a stroll around the park after dinner while sipping iced coffee and enjoying the cool night air after a rainy day.

"Let's sit there!" Hyunjin pointed to the steps overlooking the river.

You followed him by sitting on the step next to him and staring up at the night, at the stars hiding behind the grey clouds.

"I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day," he said, putting his drink down next to his feet.

"Yeah?" You weren't sure about his remarks but everyone has their view about everything, it's not about right or wrong.

"Do you also paint at night?" You asked out of curiosity.

"Not always," he answered.

He looked up at the starry night and sighed, "but seeing the stars like this makes me dream."

It's so rare to find someone like him, who openly romanticize his life and is not ashamed of it, not a bit. It made you curious of what it would be like to see the world through his eyes.

"When people look at your painting, what do you want them to feel?" You asked again, purely out of curiosity.

That question got him quiet, he didn't think that you would ask a such question out of the blue. He had no answer for that, not yet.

You understood that maybe he wasn't expecting it and you quickly came up with another question.

"Can I have your drawing of me too?"

He sipped his drink and stalled, "I'm not finished yet."

You clicked your tongue at him, "don't even dare to ask for dinner when you give it to me," you joked again.

"That's fair!" He said.

Since the stars were disappearing behind the thick clouds, you took it that it was going to rain again and decided to go home.

Hyunjin insisted on walking you home no matter how many times you told him that it was only a few blocks away from the park.

It was starting to drizzle again when you arrived at the front of your apartment building, "thank you for dinner!"

"I wasn't treating you to dinner. I paid for your drawing!" He corrected.

You softly chuckled in response and stopped walking with Hyunjin also stopped on his track.

"You'd better get home fast, I think this going to turn into a big rain," you suggested.

He didn't answer but kept staring at you, making you flustered standing there right in front of him. You hurriedly thought of something to say to not let it be awkward, "see you next week!"

"See you next week!" He said back then took a step closer, opening his arms to hug you.

You opened your arms as well in reflex and hugged him back, he feels so warm and comfortable, like a spring morning.

"Goodnight!" You told him while pulling away from the hug.

He let go but put his hand on your neck, without warning, giving you a peck on the lips. Strangely, the kiss felt natural like you've done it a thousand times already while in fact, it was long overdue. Yet it felt so good, so right, better than the ones you imagined in your silly little daydreams.

He let go of the kiss and then looked at you, his thumb tenderly caressing your cheek in a slow, circular motion.

"Goodnight!" He muttered with a voice so low it was almost like a whisper.

You nodded because you didn't know what to say, your brain was failing to form a verbal response for him. You waved your hand at him instead then went inside.

It took twice the time it usually takes you to climb the stairs to get to your unit with a hand touching your lips, the lips that touched Hyunjin's lips and kissed.

It was the kiss that distorted your reality, turning it upside down and proved you that time is indeed relative, a week felt like a year when all you could think about is when your lips will reunite with his again in a rapturous, enamoring kiss.

Every week it was him holding your hand, taking you places and discovering new ones, making each other laugh and smile, while everybody else could only be jealous of you.

For one day in a week, he snatched you from real life and into his world, where you could see everything through his rose-colored lenses where everything looked enchanting and beautiful, for that one day he made you feel like you're living in a fairytale.

It was raining one night and you both ran to the nearest building to take shelter from the rain.

He removed the wet strands of hair stuck to your face from the rain while you were giggling and panting at the same time from running. He put all of the hair behind your ear and held it there, planting a soft kiss on your lips, he tasted like roses in the rain.

"Are you cold?"

"A little."

He pulled you into a hug and put his jacket around you, wrapping you in the warmth of his embrace where you rested your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, drinking in his scent of creamy vanilla and sunshine and... freshly cut flowers?

Then you realized that you were standing right outside a florist shop and saw buckets of flowers on display inside the shop, colorful and delicate, blossoming even after the sun had gone for the day.

Hyunjin noticed that you were looking at the flowers, "should we buy some?"

You shook your head, "I don't like flowers."

He jerked his head away, probably because it was the first time he heard someone say it, "Why?"

"Because they wither and eventually die," you replied.

You looked up at him, "if you want to gift me something, I expect something that lasts for a long time."

He raised one of his eyebrows, puzzled.

"You know... like gold, diamonds, company stock!" You joked.

He looked the other way, at the night sky that poured rain that was getting heavier.

"We're already close, if we ran, we might make it in 5 minutes," he said while taking his jacket off.

You laughed at how he didn't respond to your remark and changed the subject. Then he put the jacket on both of your heads and his hand held yours.

"Are we going to run through the rain?" You asked, thinking he wasn't really serious about the suggestion.

"We're already drenched anyway, what difference would it make?" He asked.

You looked down at your clothes and he was right, you were already soaking wet, a little more rain wouldn't be a problem.

"Come on! Run!"

The two of you ran and kept on running, you led the way while he kept you close with his hand clasped yours so tight, didn't care about the water splashing as you stepped on the puddles on the pavements.

The drops of water dripped down the end of your clothes as you climbed to your unit and Hyunjin followed you from behind, too busy catching his breath.

"The blue one or the black one?" You asked, letting him choose from the two bathrobes you have in the house.

"Black."

You handed him the one he chose and he didn't hesitate to take his clothes off right then and there, putting the clothes straight into the washing machine.

He stripped his clothes off until he was stark naked in front of you and unfazed by your presence. You knew you should be looking away, but you couldn't, you kept staring at him, at his lanky figure, dainty waist, the mass of his muscles, on his arms, stomach, and thighs, he was just perfect.

In contrast to his calm, your heart was beating so loud, you believed he could hear it too.

He put his bathrobe on and turned to face you, "aren't you going to take your clothes off too?"

Your mind was adrift, it took you a minute for it to be back to your head, "huh?"

"Aren't you going to wash them too?" He asked again.

You swallowed hard, starting to get nervous, or maybe it was the cold that started to seep into your body. You took a deep breath and started by taking your shirt first, it was hard because the fabric stuck to your skin.

Like you weren't anxious enough, the button got stuck in your hair when you pulled it over your head, "Ouch!"

"Here, let me help you!" He offered, getting behind you to carefully untangle the hair.

There was a sudden rise in your body temperature and you thought that it was coming from the heat his body emitting, the kind of heat that you wanted to envelop your whole.

"There!" He said, letting you know he was done helping you with the crisis.

"Thank you!" You muttered, throwing the shirt into the washing machine.

Hyunjin sighed and turned away, "I'll make tea!"

You smiled because there was no way he would know where to get anything in your kitchen but he did it so you can have some privacy to take the rest of your clothes off.

Hyunjin managed to locate where you store the mugs and he was boiling some water, you quickly walked to the cabinet to get a box of teabags, then put one on each mug.

"I hope you like a lemon balm!" You said.

Hyunjin carefully poured the boiling water into the mugs and let the tea brew, you helped by dumping the teabags until you saw his soaked bag on the dining table.

"Oh no!" You rushed to spill the contents of his bag, knowing that he got a sketchbook in there and afraid they would get damp, ruining all of his artwork.

You saw the book you bought him and there was a bookmark between the pages, "you're reading it!"

"Of course, you bought it for me!" He casually said while carrying the mugs of tea to the dining table.

You got touched, and you bought it as a gift but knowing that he read it meant so much more to you, that meant he treasured it, cherished a gift you gave, and probably got a grasp on why you like it so much.

It was comforting to have him in the apartment, just sitting and having tea with him, the rain had stopped but the night was not yet ended.

You wanted him to stay for as long.

"Will you stay the night with me?" You blurted out your thought, fingers gripping the handle of the mug so tightly.

"What makes you think I have another plan?" He asked back after sipping his tea.

You didn't know why everything felt so natural with him like you'd done it thousands of times already, how easily he entered your life without making you feel you were being invaded.

"You have so many books," Hyunjin said, pointing to the stack of books on the bedside table.

"I read when I can't sleep," you elaborated.

Hyunjin took a copy of the same book you bought him and flipped it open, finding the poem you marked with a flower sticker.

"That's my favorite one!" You elaborated.

He gave you the book, "Read it to me," he requested, shifting on the bed to face you.

"I don't know, I'm not sure–"

You reluctantly took it from him, conflicted about whether to fulfill his request and let him know you suck at reading poems or disappoint him straight away by not doing it.

"You only need to read it," he said.

"Okay then I'll just read my favorite part," you caved in then held the book a bit higher to provide you the right angle to read it.

You cleared your throat before you start reading.

"I didn't want any—" you paused to glance at him if he had a second thought.

He responded with a nod, telling you to continue.

You continued reading and restarted it from the beginning,

"I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted

To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.

How free it is, you have no idea how free—

The peacefulness is so big it dazes you,

And it asks for nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets.

It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them

Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet."

You immediately closed the book before he asked you to continue.

"That's it!" You said but didn't dare to look his way, it was embarrassing enough to have him listen to you reading him a poem, and the silence that hung in the room only amplified the awkwardness.

He gently grabbed your chin and turned your head to meet him, then he slowly leaned in to kiss your lips, so tenderly like you were a fragile paper doll.

You opened your eyes to find his staring into yours.

"You're achingly beautiful," he muttered and pressed a kiss on you again.

You could say the same about him, he's made of dreams and all of the heavenly things, a prince charming that is somehow trapped in this real, cruel world. He belongs in a fairytale yet he was there with you with his body molded perfectly into yours, held you close, protecting you from the nightmare that might invade your sleep.

But it was also his lonely hand that seeks yours and the kisses that found solace on your neck that woke you up.

You looked over your shoulder to have him capture your lips in a kiss, knocking the air out of you.

His free hand started to part open your bathrobe, exposing you to the night cool air, and raising the goosebumps on your skin. His hand was quick to raise your body heat with light, feather-like touches, making the butterflies in your stomach fluttering awake.

His fingertips left a trail of searing touch down your chest to eventually met your heating core and out of reflex, you shut your legs, feeling flustered.

"May I?" He asked, his plush lips grazing yours as he spoke.

You nodded, spreading your legs wide enough to let him touch you there.

A low gasp escaped your mouth the moment his hand made contact with your sex, delicately like he would touch a flower.

Hyunjin didn't hesitate to taste you with your essence coated his fingers, licking them clean.

That was so arousing and he was just as aroused, you could feel his erect member poking your rear.

"Let me make love to you..." he whispered, his warm breath tickling your ear.

"Yes, please," you responded, nodding so eagerly because when it comes to him, you lose your common sense and there was no use in pretending.

His hand parted your legs open once more and you helped by keeping your leg lifted to allow him access, to touch you more, tease your entrance with his swollen cock like you weren't drenched enough.

He kissed you so hard before putting all of his focus to push his length inside you, slowly and stopping just to make sure you were alright.

He kissed you in between your moans, "you're taking me so well," he hummed against your lips.

He placed his hand on yours, keeping your leg lifted together with you then pushed deeper until he fully buried inside you.

"Ah... perfect!" He sighed.

He kissed your lower lip and gently bit it, "you're so perfect."

Again, you could say the same thing, you could feel how hard and big he was inside you. You couldn't say anything but let out moans in response.

Hyunjin started moving, thrusting into you from behind, and in the middle, he lifted your leg higher, allowing him more space to move.

He pushed even deeper, hitting you in all the right spots that your body started to shake as pleasure bubbled up inside you.

"You're made for me," he murmured with his mouth on your shoulder.

"So perfect for me," he said again through his gritted teeth as he added more speed.

His other hand wrapped around you tight, fondling your breast in his hand, squeezing it hard knowing that you were so close to climax.

"Close... oh, close..." you breathlessly said, squeezing the hand that cupped your breast.

Hyunjin moved at an impossibly fast pace, hitting you right on the spot again and again until you come to your high, around him, in his tight embrace.

"So beautiful cumming around me like that," he sweetly praised you, putting your hair away to kiss you on the side of your face.

He thrust a few more times to eventually pull out, keeping his cock clamped between your inner thighs, and kept thrusting.

The least you could do was clench your thighs together for him, moaning with every friction he made between your slick inner thighs.

Even his moans are beautiful, low, and breathless like the sound of a gust of wind.

He grabbed your chin to sink his mouth on you again and you felt something trickling down your thigh, you sighed into his mouth knowing that he just came all over your thighs.

He didn't let go of you yet, he held you tighter like he would float away if he didn't.

His hold was firm but his body was warm, his kisses turned tender as the night turned the darkest.

As much as Hyunjin makes the perfect prince charming, he's just as flawed as a human being. He has this notion that in order to be a great painter, every painting he made should turn out great, or at least, fit into his impossible standards of what a painting should be.

You witnessed it happening a couple of times, him being hard on himself, belittling his talent just because his painting didn't turn out the same as the one he envisioned in his head.

You stopped him from placing a big streak of black paint across his canvas, "I love it," you said.

You put his hand away, putting yourself between the painting and him.

"I love what you painted," you praised and took the paintbrush from him, joining it with your hand to not let him pick it up again.

Hyunjin said nothing but turned away, couldn't stand seeing his painting one more time.

"Let's just go home!" He said.

And by home, he meant your bed, your soft skin, and the beating heart inside your chest.

His hands painted your body with slow, gentle caresses. A canvas that was so divine he would only use the best colors but he couldn't think of any color that would match the blush on your cheeks.

He sure could get the color of his cum making streaks on your flushed body, pearly white glistening under the hazy afternoon light.

He placed kisses on your bare shoulder as you lay face down, "how are you so soft all over?"

You smiled in response, turning your head just enough to give him a quick peck on your lips.

Hyunjin took a pen lying on your bedside table and uncapped it, biting the pen cap between his teeth as he started to draw on your back shoulder.

You stayed still for him, watching him through the reflection in the full-length mirror, eyebrows knitted as he focused on the drawing he made on your skin.

After a few minutes, he finally stopped and capped the pen back. He rubbed over the skin to place a gentle kiss on it.

You didn't waste time to see what he was drawing, turning it to face the mirror and saw the drawing of flowers.

"They're not going to wither or die," he told you, placing his hand on your waist, not letting you out of his reach.

You turned to face him, "yeah but they'll be washed off when I shower tomorrow," you said.

"Then don't shower!" He joked, pulling you back to lie down on the bed again and hovering above you.

He kissed you so deep you got breathless even though the kiss only lasted for a few seconds. He then looked into your eyes, intensely yet they held sentimentality in them, "I'll make you a flower field," he promised.

You ran your hands up on each of his arms and joined them on the nape of his neck, "I'd love that."

Just like any fairytale, there was one thing that you shouldn't do, it could be pricking your finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel or one bite of an apple but for you, it was the one question that you should never ask: What are we?

There was this temptation to ask and the hope that things might turn out different from what you expected or it could be that, falling into a deep slumber and never waking again.

What you were having with him was nice, being with him, not having to name, it was all nice but the uncertainty of it all made you the slightest bit worried about what the future holds for you both.

And you wanted to be with him for as long and as far as this heart takes you.

What are we? You muttered in your head as you stared into his dark brown eyes.

Am I yours?

You asked in your head but didn't dare to let it out to the world, for him to hear.

Are you mine?

You turned over on the bed, having him pinned under you while you sat on top of him. Placing your hands on his chest to lean closer, you chose to bind him in another way.

"Promise me!" You dared him.

He got up to sit up, looking at you with unwavering eyes and long fingers trailing the shape of your jaw, "I promise."

You put your lips on him to mark his words and sealed the promise with a kiss.

It was crazy how you always crave his body, it was even crazier that he always cater to it. It was never just sex with him, it was making sweet, tender love together with him whereas you always felt so involved, in it together with him.

You bounced on his cock while he gripped your waist, guiding you, setting a pace to your movements. Your fingers clawed into his shoulders, crying in pleasure.

"You keep clenching around me," Hyunjin said between his soft grunts.

Not for one second, you thought of your pleasure, you did it for him, to please him. You took his mouth in yours and kissed him hard.

"I want you to cum inside me," you muttered.

He let go of your waist and put his hands around you, "You want me to cum inside?"

You nodded while looking at his face, a sheen of sweat formed on his forehead.

"Cum inside me," you said again before planting another kiss on his plump, red lips.

You continued moving, bouncing on his cock while he was still processing your request but he didn't get much time for the time that. You were getting him off, picking up the pace while clenching around him, smothering his cock in your tight, velvety walls.

"Gosh, you're so alluring..." he sighed.

You smiled at his praise and held his face in your hands, kissing him until he cum inside you. Hyunjin held you so tight as he buried his seed deep inside you that you found it hard to breathe.

You kept moaning, feeling his cock engorged and twitching inside you, his mouth sucked on your shoulder hard enough to leave a mark there.

His mouth eventually found yours and gave it a long, lingering kiss. When he pulled away, he kept his forehead pressed against yours, "you are..."

He paused to peck your lips, leaving your lips wet with his saliva, "you are my northern star."

The northern star, Polaris, a star that neither rises nor sets, a constant star in the dark of his sky and guides him when he's lost. Not the brightest star but holds such great importance to him. The only star that he looks up to when he needs his way home.

"You are my northern star," he muttered the praise again with a tender gaze.

When morning came, reality woke you up with the harsh truth that you couldn't stay in the fairytale too long. Hyunjin usually stayed for the rest of the weekend and never left without telling you. One day though, you sat on the edge of the bed, watching him sleep for a minute before leaving for work, looking at his sleeping figure with his back basking in the morning sun. You gently brushed his dark locks to the side and accidentally woke him up.

He caught your hand and held it in his, "why are you up?" He mumbled.

"Work," you shortly answered.

"You can stay as long as you want," you told him, rubbing the metal ring on his index finger with your thumb.

"Okay," he responded with a sleepy smile.

"I'll get going," you said.

He forced his eyes open to look at you and said, "Have a great day!"

Then he kissed your knuckles before letting you go, smiling even though his eyes were still heavy with sleep. When you came home, Hyunjin was already gone but you found a drawing of flowers stuck to your refrigerator door, there was a sign on the corner of the page, the initial H in a cursive letter.

And that was how you tried to survive another week with the promise that you get to relive that fairytale again.

But the thick clouds cast a shadow on supposed to be a warm, sunny spring day. It wasn't the perfect lighting for an art class but everyone managed to paint something despite the gloom the day brought.

You were too immersed in your painting that you didn't realize Hyunjin barely started yet, he kept mixing paints on his palette but not a stroke of paint on his canvas yet, it was still pristine with no speck of paint on it.

Maybe he hasn't decided on what to paint yet so you left him alone, afraid that you might only disrupt his creative mind from working.

After a while, you glanced in his direction and saw that he had started painting. That put you at ease, knowing that he was just stuck on ideas and not what you thought it was, a creative block.

Then you heard a loud thud next to you, you saw that Hyunjin just dumped a whole jar of dirty water onto his painting, making the still-wet paints drip down the canvas.

"What's wrong?" You asked but you were too late to grab his hand and get an answer.

He roughly took his bag and left the class. Everyone else watched as he made his way out of the door and followed his figure until he was out of sight.

There were so many things crossing your head at that very moment, there was a part of you that wanted to run after him and asked what went wrong. But your feet stayed immobile and you froze there on your seat, deep down it was best that you let him be.

You started to doubt your decision when he didn't come to the art class the next week.

And the next week when the art class did a painting of sunflowers.

In the following week, his seat remained empty.

He didn't come on the next Saturday when it marked the first day of summer that promised brighter days ahead. You eventually stopped wishing that he'll be back and his absence told you so much about how much his presence meant to you and your presence to him, how the answers contradict each other.

You found yourself lying awake in bed at night, seeing the stars in the night sky then sighed. Hyunjin was right, seeing the stars makes you dream.

You woke up in the middle of the night to the knocking on your door and you trudged to open it, and found him behind the door with tired, sunken eyes.

You didn't ask him questions but took him to bed, lying next to him as he stared at the ceiling of your bedroom with hollow eyes.

After a moment, he took your arm out and made it a pillow for his head. He put his hand across your chest with his head nuzzled into your neck, "I want to touch people with my art..." he said.

You placed your hand on his and let him speak his thoughts out loud, "when people look at my paintings, I want them to say..."

Hyunjin took a sharp, deep breath before continuing, "he feels deeply, he feels tenderly..."

His voice was so low and broken, a picture of the state he was in, trapped in his own head, suffering from his ideas and having problems setting them free. Mostly, how tortured he was by his romantic ideal of what an artist should be.

"I know..." you said to him while squeezing his hand, assuring him that you were there and listening to him.

Hyunjin only let his heart open when he painted, he bleed through every brush of paint on his canvas, his love for his art is pure and unparalleled. He is what he paints, you can see the beauty of his paintings through the cracks of his fractured soul.

And for that, the world couldn't love him, a broken thing.

"This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you," you told him.

He exhaled a cold breath into your neck, "You're the only one who understands me."

That was also why he let you in because you were the only one who understands him, but not enough to figure him out.

It is the only way you know how to love him when all of the doors to his life are closed and he keeps his heart locked in a box.

Tears caught in your throat when you realized you weren't exactly in a fairytale, you were lost in the maze you put yourself in for trying to love him, a man whose true love is his art, not a person, not you.

"You're my northern star," he said again, tightening his hold around you.

You looked away, at the night sky through your bedroom window, and then it hits you, for when Hyunjin looked up at his sky, the first thing he would see would be the brightest star and it wasn't you.

He tenderly brushed his lips on your cheek while putting his arms around your body and closing the gap between your bodies.

His hand turned your face at him, "read me a poem," he softly spoke.

How could you think of any when all you could think about was how your love didn't make him whole, your love didn't feed him, he could and would survive without your love.

Ultimately, how much you love but it did nothing to him.

"Read me a poem..." he spoke again, his eyes were on you but he couldn't see how you were shattering from the inside.

You nodded and thought of something, despite the amplifying pain that numbed you from the inside. You got reminded of something, it wasn't a poem but a verse from a play you read once.

Hyunjin pressed his forehead to the side of your face with the tip of his nose poking your cheek, his hand clasped yours and rested on your stomach.

"Life is a flower, of which love is the honey," you began.

You stared up at the ceiling and inhaled air as it was getting harder to breathe when the truth kept weighing on you, "it's the dove and the eagle united in the sky."

You continued as he pressed another kiss on your temple, "it's a grace trembling at insistent force, it's your hand sweetly forgotten in mine."

You let the words hang in the air and seeped into the silence, let them become vain, like those three words which you decided to leave unspoken.

"Beautiful..." he sighed with a slow caress on your cheek then brought his lips onto yours.

He kissed and kissed while you swallowed it all down, further down until your feelings were buried deep in the pit of your heart never to let them out.

And the world was indeed never meant for one as beautiful as him.

While you learned that the world was never meant to be a fairytale.

A FEW YEARS LATER

How could you be this stupid?

Not realizing that your ring was missing until you looked down at your hand once you boarded the train that will take you home.

You managed to recall the last time you saw the ring, it was a moment before you checked out of the hotel you'd been staying in for the last three days.

The hotel insisted that one of their staff probably found it and forgot to report it to the hotel security, they told you so many excuses to stop you from going full-on hysterical about it.

The receptionist came up to you, "it might take a long time since we couldn't contact the staff on duty because of the change of shift," she informed.

The information only heightened your panic, making you even more anxious than before.

"I really need that ring back," you said with a trembling voice, holding your tears back from the fear of losing the ring forever.

"We're very sorry but we'll keep on trying to contact her and we'll do everything to get your belonging back," she explained, she was as just as panicked to see you on the verge of crying.

"No! You don't understand!" You didn't mean to snap at her like that and echo in the hotel lobby, it was almost midnight but there were still a few people going in and out of the hotel at that hour.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down then lower your voice, "that ring is precious to me," you said again with a suppressed, frustrated tone.

You felt the tears pooling in your eyes, "I have to get it back, it's a..." your words trailed off.

At first, you thought your brain deluded you into seeing him. When it registered that it was him, it felt like a dream... seeing him again after so many years, of all many places and times, he saw you again when you were scared shitless, a nudge away from bursting into tears.

From your peripheral vision, you saw him coming in your direction and you quickly swallowed your tears away.

"It's important, it's a... a family heirloom!" You finished before looking away, away from his line of vision.

"We understand the importance of your belonging, and we'll try our best to get them back for you, for now, please remain calm and we'll get back to you once we got an update," the receptionist furtherly explained then excused herself to get back behind the desk.

It was too late to hide yourself from being seen by him, so you looked down at your feet and hoped he would turn away from you even though that would be a betrayal of your heart's desire.

You felt his hand on your shoulder and you didn't dare to breathe until he turned you around.

"Hey," he softly greeted you.

There was no way he didn't recognize you, you already expected he would despite you being the one who saw him first and tried not to let him see you.

You hesitated to look at him, you knew what damage it would cause from just seeing his face.

Then again, you missed so terribly much so you looked up and met his eyes, "hey..." you croaked.

He tilted his head to the side and the hand that was on your shoulder moved to cup your face, "are you okay?"

His hand felt warm against your cheek, it was comfortable and safe.

You hated how you hard stacked your guard up so high only for him to knock it down easily with the simplest of his touch.

"I'm..." there was a lump caught in your throat, "I'm not okay," you finished and admitted it making the tears flow out of you.

Without further questions, he pulled you into a hug and let you cry into his chest, shielding you from the hurt of the world even for just a moment.

In the middle of the night, on the sofa of the hotel lobby, he saw you struggling to open a bottle of water and doing it for you at the end.

"Do they know where is it?" He asked as he sat on the sofa next to you.

"The staff who was on duty probably took it with her," you answered, fumbling to wipe the tears in the corner of your eyes with your knuckles.

"Do they call the police?"

You shook your head, "No, I don't want to make a big fuss. I just want to get my ring back," you told him the reason why.

"That means she stole it!"

You didn't need him to put it that way. You combed your hair to the back out of frustration, "I don't know," you sighed.

You kept your head down as he placed slow, soothing rubs on your back.

"I'll be back," he said, leaving you alone on the sofa.

That only gave you time to blame yourself, how could you be this reckless and lost such an important item?

You hadn't been in your right mind recently, you had a lot on your mind that you took days off from work, hopped on a train that took you out of the city, and stayed in the hotel for days.

All that just to try to put your mind off things but it did the opposite, you couldn't stop thinking about why things went wrong.

"Let's go!" He suddenly said with his hand stretched out at you.

You looked up at him with questioning eyes.

"I have the address of the housekeeper who took your ring," he explained, "let's find her there and get your ring back!"

Deep down, you knew that there was a big possibility that the ring had gone forever. With just one look, people would know how much that ring costs.

But you didn't want to give up on looking until you were a hundred percent sure it was really gone.

The streets were almost empty when you arrived at the neighborhood of the housekeeper's address. You climbed the stairs that took you to her apartment and rang the doorbell several times.

You tried knocking on the door as well but there was no answer.

You slumped against the wall, getting more hopeless the louder Hyunjin banged on the door.

The next-door neighbor probably heard it and poked his head out of his apartment door, an elderly with a balding forehead and grey hair.

"Are you looking for Mrs. Kim?"

You were the one who noticed him first, "yes, I'm looking for the person living in this apartment," you answered, pointing to the apartment number written on the address.

"She's probably still out but she'll come back soon," he informed.

You sighed, didn’t know where to start but you needed him to know how important it was for you to meet her.

"It's urgent, I need to see her as soon as possible. If you know any way to contact her, can you please tell me?" You asked.

The elderly man saw the desperation in you, then weakly smiled, "she'll be back soon," he said again.

"How do you know she'll be back soon?" Hyunjin asked this time, standing next to you facing him.

"Because her son is here with me," he answered with the same smile.

Hyunjin felt bad for being impolite to the elderly man, especially when he invited both of you to wait in his apartment and Mrs. Kim's son made you a cup of tea.

You looked around his place while sitting on the couch, he got an eccentric taste for an old man. There was a neon sign, an aquarium, a round table with a silky red tablecloth, and dried flowers hung on the wall.

"I have excellent taste in home decor, right?" He beamed at you.

You softly chuckled, feeling embarrassed to be caught by him, "No, I like it."

Mrs. Kim's son carefully placed two cups of steaming hot tea on the table in front of you then sat on the floor, working on his homework.

"I read people's cards for a living, dear," he explained, "I still take sessions but people rely everything on the internet nowadays."

"Ah!" You exclaimed.

"Have your teas, please!" He said to both of you.

You slowly lifted your teacup and brought it close enough to your mouth, blowing air on it before taking a small sip.

"You want me to read your cards?" He offered out of the blue.

You put your teacup back on the table, "Oh, no. I'm good," you kindly refused.

He waved you off, "please, it's not like I have an exciting thing to do," He pleaded.

You glanced at Hyunjin who was watching Mrs. Kim's son working on his homework and he glanced back at you with an eyebrow raised, hinting at you to accept the man's offer.

"Well, if it's not a bother," you said, relented.

"No, it's my pleasure, dear!"

He led you to sit on the chair facing the round wooden table with the silky red tablecloth while he sat across from you, then he took out a deck of tarot cards from a small drawer under the table.

"You know, this morning I did a quick reading of what my day would be and I got Page of Cups," he told you while shuffling the cards in his wrinkled yet agile hands, pretty much showing that he was experienced.

You smiled at him even though you didn't get the meaning behind his remark, you guessed it was a good thing since he said it in a happy tone.

He gave the deck of cards one last good shuffle then spread it on the table into a nice curve, the cards looked worn and slightly torn on the corner.

"Pick three cards!"

You took a deep breath, then stretched out your hand.

"Use your left hand and hover it along the card, then pick the card that speaks to your heart," he instructed as you switched your hand with the left one.

You did what he instructed you to do, hovering your hand above the spread of cards then picked the one that felt right and clicked in your heart.

He placed your three chosen cards in the middle of the table, then flipped the first one open.

There was a picture of a child passing a cup filled with flowers to another child then there are 5 other cups in front of them.

On the second card, a naked lady hovers above the earth surrounded by a green wreath.

And the last card shows a woman and a child in a boat being rowed in the water to a land that is on the other side.

The elderly man hummed as he observed the cards then nodded to himself.

You never really believed in this kind of thing but if any of the cards mean a bad thing, you were sure it affected you in a way.

"This," he pointed to the first card, "Six of cups, meaning that you've been thinking of memories, happy memories from the past," he explained.

"It could be of a thing, or a certain moment in your life or a person."

Your eyes unconsciously gazed in Hyunjin's direction and the elderly man noticed that subject of this particular card was him.

He nodded without saying anything.

"This is The World," he said, pointing to the second tarot card.

The naked woman holds a staff in each hand, she looks so divine that the creatures around her look up at her.

"But it's in reverse," he said.

Your heart skipped a beat, alerted that it might be a bad sign.

"Don't worry, it's not always bad," he comforted you.

"It means that there's a delay in your life or that you are seeking personal closure from something, halting you from going to the next cycle in your life."

He was merely reading your randomly chosen cards yet you felt so seen like he was reading through your mind and finding out everything you were trying to hide. Maybe this is why some people don't like having their fortunes read, it's like peeking into something you shouldn't be seeing in the first place.

"Don't be alarmed, dear," he said to you, he tapped his old, shriveled finger to the last card, "this last card shows a good turnout," he said.

"This is Six of swords," he elaborated, "you'll experience a transition of some kind, and it's a happy one without regret,"

A smile rose on your face, feeling relieved that your cards weren't as bad as you thought they would be.

"I'm glad to hear that," you honestly admitted to him with a sigh.

He smiled at you, then took your hands in his on the table, "Just remember, dear, in order to move forward, you have to leave something behind," he warned you with gentle eyes.

He squeezed your hands, then flashed you a comforting smile before letting go of your hands.

"Well, I hope that gives you enlightenment," he playfully said while laughing gathered all of the cards but left the last of your chosen card on the table.

"You left one," you told him.

"That one is for you," he said.

You tipped your head to the side, "for me?"

He nodded then placed the card on your open palm, "despite your sadness, you need to remember that moving on is the ideal option for your future," he said.

The words lingered like some motivational poster hung in the back of your head as you looked at the tarot card for a little while, then put it inside your bag.

You went back to the sofa and sipped your warm tea, glancing at Hyunjin who was so invested in helping Mrs. Kim's son with his math.

When your teacup was almost empty, that was when Mrs. Kim finally came knocking on the door and his son ran to open it for her.

She gave you a strange look as she got into the apartment and saw you sitting on the sofa.

"You're having guests, Mr. Lee?" She asked the elderly man.

"They're looking for you," he answered.

You quickly got up from the sofa and walked up to her, "Can I talk to you for a second, Mrs. Kim?" You politely asked her because you didn't feel great with his son listening in on the reason why you came for her late at night like this.

The truth was Mrs. Kim did take the ring with her, but since she was almost late for her second job, she forgot to turn it in to the hotel. It was indeed accidental, and you were glad that you didn't involve the police in the first place.

She thanked and apologized to you countless times until you were both back in Mr. Lee's apartment no matter how many times you told her that it was alright.

Afraid that you might lose it again, you tied a scarf on the ring and put it inside the inner pocket of your bag.

"Thank you once again for kindly letting us wait here," you told Mr. Lee.

"I'm sorry that we disturb you late at night like this," Hyunjin added, feeling sorry for both Mr. Lee and Mrs. Kim, also his son.

"No worries. It's a happy surprise," he said to you.

You were feeling blue for saying goodbye to them, added to the fact that you wouldn't see them again, it was a nice short meeting on an eventful night. One that you would remember you shared with an odd ensemble of people in your life.

You didn't remember climbing these stairs before, maybe the anxiety took you completely that you couldn't think of anything but the ring.

Then you got it back and you felt so relieved, you kept exhaling air as you climbed down the stairs. The tension slowly subsides, leaving you completely drained to eventually slip on your foot and fell down the steps.

Hyunjin rushed to help you, kneeling on the wet pavements from the melting snow, soaking your coat and jeans.

"Are you okay?" His voice was tinted with concerns.

You nodded and took a moment to sit there, "It's the uh... tension..." you breathlessly answered.

"Let's take a taxi back to the hotel!" He put an arm around you to help you get up.

You brushed your dirty hands together, "No, I have to go to the train station."

Hyunjin helped you to stand on your feet and craned his neck to find a taxi nearby, "you can always take the first train home tomorrow," he insisted and waved his hand to hail a taxi.

"I have to go home fast, I have—" you yelped when you saw the scrape on the heel of your hand.

The taxi pulled to the side of the street and Hyunjin opened the door for you, "I'll take you to the train station myself first thing in the morning," he promised and helped you get into the car.

Hyunjin already changed into comfortable clothes when you got out of the bathroom wearing the hotel bathrobe, he insisted on getting your dirty clothes laundered and will be delivered back in the morning.

"I ordered dinner earlier but it's already cold now," he said, gesturing you to sit on the small dining table.

"I tried to order a new one but the kitchen is closed," he furtherly explained, placing the utensils in front of you.

Since you were no longer anxious, you got to see him closely, his hair was still long but a bit shorter than the hair he had a few years ago and his facial features were more evident, defining his age and reminding you that he got older too just like you.

But Hyunjin will always be beautiful... warm eyes, sweet smile and you looked down at his delicate hands that have created so many beautiful paintings.

"I'll make us tea," he said, leaving the table to turn on the water boiler.

You dig into the plate and laughed at how the pasta became stiff that you had a hard time twirling it with your fork.

Hyunjin softly laughed seeing you struggling to eat it, he helped by stirring it with a spoon.

"Are you still painting?" He suddenly asked.

You already knew that the question would come out at some point, "I stopped painting a year ago," you shortly replied.

He put down the spoon and looked at you, "Why?"

You shrugged and shoved a forkful of pasta into your mouth, "it just hit me that art supplies are really expensive," you joked.

You slid the plate toward him, "let's share the dinner," you offered.

Hyunjin stared at you for a few seconds before digging into the pasta, "Sure!"

There was a knock on the door when the two of you were having tea, it was a hotel staff delivering a first-aid kit box for Hyunjin.

"Can you sit here?" He asked you, patting the space on the bed next to him.

"I can do it myself," you kindly refused.

"Please?" He pleaded with a soft voice.

You walked to the bed and sat next to him with the box of first-aid kit opened on the floor next to his feet.

"Your hand," he asked for your hand.

You held it out for him, "it's just a scrape," you said.

He didn't say anything but carefully put ointment on the wound with a cotton swab, so carefully and blowing on it once in a while.

He's so, so beautiful and you once again felt like being in a fairytale again.

A prince charming helping a damsel in distress.

He put the bandaid next and made sure it securely covered the wound.

"Thank you!" You muttered.

But he wasn't done yet, he took your other hand and turned it over, saw the deep scar that ran along the side of your palm.

"Is this why you stopped painting?" He asked.

You were stupid to ever think that he wouldn't notice, Hyunjin has always been that, attentive and observant.

"I got into an accident a year ago," you explained because there was no use in hiding it from him anymore.

"Crushed half of my hand, my ring and pinky fingers are paralyzed but I'm still lucky—"

Your words got cut off as Hyunjin placed his lips on it, kissing your scar like it would magically heal it for you. He pressed a kiss along the scar with eyes closed like it was hurtful to do so.

Maybe he couldn't heal you, but everything he does felt magical.

You suddenly got hit by a wave of sadness that came from how much you missed him, yearned for him, and longed for him.

A tear rolled down your face, out of happiness or relief, you didn't know which.

"I missed you," your voice quivering against your sniffles and you swallowed air to help you finish the sentence, "so terribly much."

Your tears kept flowing out of you like a river and you couldn't stop it, guessed your heart was just as happy to be close to his once more as he pulled you into a hug.

"I missed you too," he said as he held you tight, wrapping you in his arms.

And you crumbled in his arms, into the warmth that was once offered the safest embrace, reminded you of the most painful and happiest time of your life.

He took a moment to look at your face and gently wiped your tears with his knuckles, smiling so fondly as he doing it.

Then, he ever so softly placed his lips on yours and stayed like that for a while. Just his lips on your lips, plush and warm.

And it felt like coming home to him.

He had been places, new places, strange places, beautiful places with the most breathtaking sceneries but nothing can beat this wonderful feeling of coming home.

You provide comfort and warmth, a body that is so pliant to his touch, molded to his body when he holds you against him, and a hand that could break open his heart just from resting it on his chest.

His fingertip traced the curve of your lips before kissing it, it instantly took him back to the rainy spring days, your feet tangled and hands touching each other under the cover.

The days when he had the least confidence in his dream but also the happiest when he was with you.

"It's you, isn't it?" You asked out of the blue.

Hyunjin tangled his hand in your hair, "mmh?"

"The painter with the initial H," you answered.

You didn't need to wait for his answer, from the subtle shock visible on his face, you could tell that your guess was true. It wasn't just about the initial that fits his name, but from his paintings, you could feel all these endearing, gentle touches of his hands in every brush of paint on the canvas.

It was vivid, intense, and flawed but if you could see through the cracks, you could find him there, pure, delicate, and bewitching, Hyunjin.

"It's true," he admitted and brought his hand to your jaw, "that's me."

You triumphantly smiled because your heart knows him well more than your mind could perceive.

"I'm so happy for you," you genuinely said to him because you knew how much he wanted to be a great painter, and being acknowledged as one, all of that came true.

Hyunjin connected the dots and noticed something, "did you come here to see the exhibition?"

You let him slip his fingers between the spaces of your fingers, "yes."

He couldn't be happier to know that not only had he found his way home but a home that welcomed him to stay.

"What do you think?"

Art is not about right or wrong, like or dislike, good or bad, art is a tool people use to convey the message it wants to tell to the world. And it's imperative that you get the message in his paintings.

"They're..." you paused to try to fathom your thoughts into words as he held onto your hand as if his life depends on your words.

"A little reserved, tender..." your eyes stared deep into his before finishing your sentence, "beautiful just like you."

But nothing could quite describe how beautiful you looked when you said those words to him and how it made him feel, it would be impossible to paint it as well.

"Are you happy?"

That one question turned the table back to him, he never even asked that himself.

"Are you happy with your paintings?" You asked again.

He had to look deep within himself to find the answer, he got older and he lost pieces of himself, good or bad, it was inevitable. There was still a stubborn part in him, but he knows how to make peace with it.

And he could confidently answer, "yes."

"I'm happy for you," you responded with a delightful sigh, that was all that mattered to you, he made peace with himself.

He pulled you closer and held you tighter because the regrets of leaving you a few years ago came haunting him again.

How he left the morning after when you were still fast asleep and stopped coming to the painting class, he couldn't afford love at that time, the fear of losing his passion for his art was much bigger than the fear of not being able to give you the love you deserve.

"I'm sorry I left," he muttered and it felt bitter coming out of his mouth, how he hated himself still for it.

"It's okay. I understand," your voice was muffled as you nuzzled your head into his chest.

"What I did was—" he stopped talking mid-sentence as if it was painful to keep talking.

"What you did is right," you convinced, then forced him to look at you in the eyes, "there's no guarantee that you'd be this great if you stayed."

That didn't make Hyunjin feel a little less guilty, his conscience remained the same, "I'm sorry."

You put your hand on his chest to stop him from muttering another apology, "you're happy now. That's all that matters."

"And how about you? Are you happy?" He turned the table back at you.

You nuzzled your head further into his neck and nodded, "I'm happy."

And that was all that mattered to him.

He put your hair to the side and looked into your eyes which guided him back here, his haven, home.

"My northern star," he sighed.

And he wanted to stay in that home, own it and live in it, forever.

Your hands folded under your head, snuggling up to his chest to seek more warmth as the night had turned to morning.

Hyunjin watched you sleeping and he felt nostalgic, at how it reminded him of the days he spent in your bed, waking up next to you and seeing your face first thing in the morning.

There was a crease on your forehead and he put his finger to make it disappear, warding the nightmare that might reside in your sleep.

"I'll make it go away," Hyunjin muttered under his breath, rubbing over the crease on your forehead while holding your face with such loving.

Your eyes fluttered open and he quickly removed his finger from your forehead.

"Good morning!" He said out of reflex.

You blinked your eyes a few times to adjust to the light and rubbed them.

"Morning!" You mumbled your reply.

You looked so adorable to him, still lost between dreamland and reality, pure and innocent. He couldn't help but kiss you.

That took you by surprise as you stiffen against his kiss and when he pulled away, you shyly smiled at him.

"That's a bad idea. I haven't brushed my teeth," you meekly told him.

He chuckled at your flustered response and ignored your warning, pinning you under him so he could press another kiss.

A kiss that takes things further and you opened the gate to him by letting him invade your mouth. His hands silently made their way to part your bathrobe open, exposing your heavenly body to him.

He abruptly stopped kissing you to take his t-shirt off in one swift move because he needed to feel you skin-to-skin, he wanted that softness lathering him all over.

He kissed and kissed, dragged his mouth down your neck and chest to put it on your lips again with hands touching you all over.

Then all of a sudden, he pulled away with his face hovering a few inches above yours.

"Stay for one more day," he asked.

All he needed was one more day to show you that he wouldn't leave this time around.

"Just one more day!"

The glints in his eyes told you how much he wanted you to stay and he couldn't afford to get the unwanted answer from you.

Before you could think of an answer, he put his lips on you again and put his body on top of you, a hand propped on your side to not put his whole weight on you.

But you have to let him know, "Hyunjin..." you tried again.

"Please?"

And the plead tasted so sweet against your lips.

How could you say no to him? But you couldn't say yes either. You got quiet as you thought of a way to put things gently.

Hyunjin placed kisses down the side of your face as his hand went lower, lower to down south until his fingers met the elastic band of your underwear.

"Hyunjin," you stammered, couldn't focus when he caught your ear shell between his plush lips, "Hyunjin, I can—"

The knocking on the door put a halt to everything and you sat on the bed, putting on your bathrobe again.

"That must be my clothes," you said and got off the bed to open the door.

The breakfast was already served when you got out of the bathroom, dressed in your freshly laundered clothes.

But his eyes darted to the ring on your finger and it seemed like you decided to put it on that day. The blue diamond looked striking against your skin tone.

He poured coffee into your empty cup, knowing that you prefer that for your morning drink.

"That's a nice ring!" He complimented without looking at it. "No wonder you were so terrified of losing it," he added.

You put your hand on your lap, under the table, out of his sight.

"Thank you," you weakly said and sipped your coffee.

He finished his toast in two bites and got up from his chair, "I'm going to shower."

"Okay," you responded, looking up at him with a smile.

The taxi ride to the station was short, probably it was because of Sunday morning which caused no significant traffic.

But the station was already crowded with people, Hyunjin waited as you bought your ticket.

You clutched your bag in front of you as you walked back to him, "my train will leave in half an hour."

Hyunjin had been trying to make sense of it all, the ring, the reason why you came here, how you met and why you needed to get back home. He came to one conclusion.

He took both of your hands and held them, "don't lose it again," he said with his thumb rubbing over the ring.

You softly chuckled and nodded.

Hyunjin sighed and gathered his guts to blurt out the truth: you came here not to restart.

"I know it's not a family heirloom."

The smile on your face slowly faded like someone had brought the brightness down.

"I know you have someone waiting for you back home," he said even though it was hard for him to say it out loud, he didn't want to acknowledge it but at the same time, he couldn't just ignore it.

"Hyunjin, I—" you choked on your tears as tears streamed down your face and he had enough of seeing you crying.

"Shh... please, don't cry!" He cooed, holding your face in his hands like you were a fragile object.

You took a deep breath and began to explain everything, "I had a second thoughts about my engagement."

"You don't have to—"

You shook your head, "that's why I came here, I came to see your paintings in the hope I get to settle this matter... this attachment... to fill this hole in my chest," you continued with a trembling voice.

"But my heart ached for you, Hyunjin. I was broken and you took a piece of me with you when you left," you cried harder and it was heartbreaking to know that he caused you all of this.

"I couldn't move past it... I tried so many times and I couldn't," you vigorously shook your head and crumbled completely in front of him.

Hyunjin didn't realize he was crying too until tears rolled down both of his cheeks, he immediately brushed it off with his hands and pulled you into a hug.

"I tried to love someone else but you keep calling to me," you sobbed into his chest.

This wouldn't happen if he didn't leave without telling you, he could have told you that he couldn't love you at that time and let you go to love someone else, someone who deserves it.

He didn't know that it will have you tethered to him.

"I'm sorry," he repeatedly said because that was all he could come up with, a limitless amount of apology.

He hugged you so warmly and shielded you from the world, letting you cry your heart out, let the pain that he caused seeping back into him.

It would be unfair for him to keep you chained to him, you deserve your happiness as much as he deserves his.

He tilted your head up and attentively wiped the tears from your face, he looked at you with eyes that had seen behind the veil.

Then he slowly brought his lips to yours and gently kissed you, kissed you like he never had and never will. Star-crossed lovers are on the verge of collapsing.

I let go of my claim on you, he said in his head as he kissed you again with the utmost affection he has for you, breaking and shattering, shrinking and deflating. He didn't know how would he recover from that but time heals, time heals everything.

"I want you to be happy," he said.

He brushed your hair to the side and held them there, "are you happy?"

You nodded.

"Are you happy with him?"

You nodded again.

"Does he make you happy?"

"Yes."

"Good!" Hyunjin beamed while nodding his head.

"That's all I need to know," he kissed you again for your lips will never touch again.

After a moment, he let go of the kiss with a gasp.

"I'm sorry but kissing someone's fiancé is kind of hot," he joked.

You sadly laughed while wiping your teary-eyed and bravely looked at him, "thank you for keeping your promise," you told him.

"The flower field," you said, "it's beautiful."

He was more than glad to know that his message was received. A painting of a flower field that he promised you and wanted to show you himself. But he didn't have the chance to do that, he has to set you free and let you fly.

"You'd better get on the train," he reminded you with a squeeze on your shoulder.

You took a long last look at him and smiled with your aching heart, "you are a great painter, Hyunjin."

You took his hand and squeezed it, "You do feel deeply and tenderly," you praised.

There was a lump forming in his throat but he wouldn't let it out, you were the only one capable to deliver such earnest praises and moving his heart.

"Thank you," he said, squeezing your hand back.

There was an announcement to board your train and you hurriedly slung your bag on your shoulder, "it's time," you said with a sad smile.

It was time, time to go and time to let go, time to move on and part ways, time to say goodbye because this is where your life path branched out.

Hyunjin took a deep breath to lessen the pain inside his chest, "I'll see you next Saturday!" He joked or it was his wistful thinking to wanting to go back to those days.

You chuckled then it changed into a sad smile, "I'll see you next Saturday!" you said back.

You took your hand back from him and he let it slip away, and started walking away from him.

He watched you stop after a few steps and turned around, running to give him one last hug. He knew you were crying again but you let go so fast, he didn't get to hug you back. He could only watch as you walked further away from him.

You kept walking and walking without looking back at him and he realized that he has just become the past.

The exhibition wasn't open yet but the security knew he was one of the artists featured there, letting him in without questions.

He strolled through the gallery flooded with the morning sunlight and sat on the bench facing his painting, the painting that evoked so many things out of him.

The Flower Field by H.

He suddenly remembered the poem you read to him on the last night he spent with you.

'Life is a flower, of which love is the honey.'

But you are not flower nor honey, you are a field filled with the most beautiful flowers and he wanted to stay there, lay down with his eyes closed and his hands turned up.

It was the only painting that tells so much about him, where he poured his heart out and let it open for the world to see.

He pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and called his agent, he picked up on the second ring.

"I have told everyone that you'll never sell The Flower Field," his agent said through the phone, knowing that he would reject so many offers for this one painting.

"I changed my mind," Hyunjin said.

There was a long silence before his agent could respond to his remark, "you want to sell it?"

"Yes."

There was another silence then a long sigh, "there's this good offer from a gallery—"

"I don't care who you sell it to, just... I don't want to know," he resisted the lump in his throat to come out by swallowing it down.

"What happened? What changed?" His agent said because it was just last night he insisted on never selling the painting.

"The northern star," his voice broke at the end of the sentence and he tried again, "I lost the northern star."

His agent got confused by his answer but he sensed that something was not alright, "it's okay, you will make a lot of paintings better than this," he comforted.

Hyunjin's face dropped as his phone slipped from his hand and fell onto his lap. He couldn't look at the painting anymore without the reminder that he made it for you with the thoughts of you in his head and the poem you read to him.

No, he can't make better paintings than this because it was done in love and what is done with love is well done.

He felt stupid for believing his art is far greater than loving you, it was the opposite. It was your love that brought out the emotions in him, the force to keep thriving and push himself to keep going. It was your love that makes his art harbor so much more than just a message, there are emotions and memories. The painting is a love letter that will not wither nor die, just like his feelings for you.

But Hyunjin was too late to learn that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.

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