#guys be proud of me I used actual perspective for this one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yeosbbm · 1 year ago

Text

Studio Sessions

Smut | MDNI

starring: producer! Hongjoong x producer! Fem reader

genre: lovers reunited, yearning between two, coworkers to lovers/friends to lovers

summary: You helped Hongjoong produce music for Ateez for so long but soon left due to feeling as though they didn’t need you. But you get a call from KQ asking for you to help out with their new comeback to keep Hongjoong from wearing himself out. After reconnecting with him, your dynamic and relationship with him takes a turn.

warnings/prevs: hongjoong is whipped for the reader, reader lowkey denying their own feelings 😭, sweet/dirty talk, pet names, thigh riding, a half cup of cunnilingus, fingering, overstim implied, one moment of impact play, unprotected piv (wrap it up), light dom-sub dynamic.

A/n: in this work I honestly didn’t/barely use “y/n” and changed up the perspectives to experiment and I actually prefer this tbh. I had so much writing this you guys you don’t understand 😭 btw I might remove my mingi fic after reading over it and push it pt.2 will be released tomorrow 🫶🏾

Session #1

“Wait so, she’s coming back.:.to help with producing the comeback.”

Hongjoong is shocked you cared to come back. Starting at the Thanxx era, you produced for KQ alongside Hongjoong, but after a while you questioned your talents or if Ateez even needed you. So you departed from the company after the Deja Vu comeback. It shattered Hongjoong because the best of Ateez was from you two’s hard work.

What also shattered him was his feelings for you. He was in love with you, he knew that it was inappropriate to feel that way about a friend and colleague, but he couldn’t help it. His love and right hand support was gone.

“We realized that this album has put a strain on you and we don’t need anyone to strain themselves mentally or physically before the comeback.” Hongjoong is listening but isn’t as attentive as he usually was during one on one meetings. He was still trying to wrap his head around how you and him are going to be in the same room again after all this time.

“So, we reached out to her and luckily she hasn’t transferred to a new label. She agreed to rejoin KQ.”

Hongjoongs head is finally out the clouds. “This is great thank you sir, I need to prepare and clean my studio and file what we have.” He wanted you to see him in his best condition.

“There’s no need she’s already in the studio.” Fuck.

After speedwalking through the building he finally reaches his studio. Through a cracked door he could see you stood there, running your hand on the sound board. He swallows and decides to come in. “Hey it’s me, I-I didn’t think you’d get here so soon.” He tried to sound as natural as possible.

“It seems like Joongie still can’t manage to keep his studio tidy.” You laugh while running your hand through all the software you haven’t used in forever.

Hongjoong is stuck..why ? because he’s realized from you calling him ‘joongie’ alone, all the memories and feelings for you have flooded back.

You walk towards him and embrace him. You’ve missed him too, and feeling him in real time makes your heart ache in nostalgia and a sea of suppressed feelings. “I’m proud of you guys, Bouncy was a hit I’m shocked you guys even need me back.”

Hongjoongs eyes are set on your face, you’re as pretty as the last time he’s seen you. “I wish you had never left.” Now you were both stuck wordlessly staring at each other.

You snap out of it and back away to clap your hands. “Then let’s get to work shall we!”

Hongjoong’s head is once again, finally out the clouds. “YEA! Let’s make this happen.”

Session #5

You and Hongjoong have now had 5 sessions recording, editing and sorting the music and vocals, and Joong has enjoyed every bit of it. He always puts every ounce of passion, effort and creativity into his music, whether you’re there or not, but something about you being here adds a spark.

You hadn’t came in yet due to errands. Hongjoong had to record Mingi on his own. Mingi finally leaves the booth so him and Hongjoong can listen through.

“So, what do you think about her coming back.” Mingi says twiddling his thumbs.

“All I can say is that I’m glad.” He was more than glad, he was ecstatic to have you by his side again. But, he knew gushing about you to Min might cause a ripple effect.

“So what have you thought about her these days..has she changed…has your view on her changed orr?.”

Hongjoong didn’t know where to start.

On a colleague level, he thinks you’re an amazing part of the team and admires your work ethic. On a romantic level, wants to see you outside the studio, have a home date that ends with him kissing the top of your head and cuddling on your couch. And for the more lustful thoughts, he already thinks you’re pretty, but thinks you’d be prettier while you cry from overstim, he wants to make you feel fireworks while you cum from his mouth, hands, di-

“Earth to Joong damn it.” Mingi is sat laughing and apalled on how caught in his thoughts Joong was. “Sorry sorry I’ve been missing sleep.”

“You’ve been missing her.” Mingi could tell and had a grin of knowing.

“No I haven’t.” He did. He wished you dropped the errands and was sitting by him right now.

“Wowww I didn’t know it was like that Hj.” You walked in only hearing the final two bits of their convo. Fuck.

After Mingi left, you and Joong sat in the studio mixing audios and perfecting songs that had already been finished. For hours you two laugh, bonded and caught up on old times.

Joong had moments where he was so fixated by you. Whether it was your face of focus on your laptop, the way you smiled at him when the mix sounds good, how your body moves when you truly feel the beat.

Soon Hongjoong had left momentarily in order to practice choreo with the members. He told you he’d be back since you wanted to stay behind. When he returned by 1am he expected you to still be awake working hard like old times. But you haven’t worked this hard on a song in so long you fell asleep.

As you slept on the couch, using a blanket he keeps in his studio. Hongjoong could only stare, seeing you so still and peaceful…your most beautiful form.

He dims the lights, fixes the blanket, and takes off your shoes. Normally the change of lighting alone would wake you but the studio was so tranquil you can sleep so deeply. Before Hongjoong starts working on his own,,he kisses your forehead.

Session #10

You can sense that your feelings for Joong are returning during this session. It started with him buying your favorite drink order with a sticky note attached.

“Had to go to a quick photoshoot, wait for me <3 [: ”

Then it’s how when he got there, he put his hands on your shoulders while watching you work. The weight of his hands alone has your stomach filled with rapid butterflies. What really killed you is when he leaned down to whisper a suggestion in your ear for the sample placement.

You shivered and thanked him for telling you, then hid your face by staring directly in the screen, avoiding him possibly seeing you flustered.

The icing is how you began to have eye strain and head was humming from the loud sounds around you. Your senses were becoming dull and all you could do was squint and wince in your chair.

“You good ?” He turns his chair to you concerned. “Yea it’s just my head no worries.” You rub your eyes a bit and stretch your arms before going back to your work.

Then you hear Hongjoong get up from his chair, you assume he needs to grab something but hear him directly behind you, then he rakes his hands through your hair up your scalp and begin massaging and rubbing pattens with his fingers.

The cherry on top was when he leaned forward into your ear again but this time he whispered. “That feel good ?” You nod and have to keep yourself from thinking out of pocket scenarios that involve you and him in bed. You know he’s simply talking about your headache but…Fuck.

Final Session.

“Uuuuh lower the synths here so it doesn’t drown out Yeosangs vocals.”

“Joong if we get rid of the synths here…” You hint at how this could compromise the beat.

“I know the beat will sound empty but I need something to highlight but not drown out Yeosang’s voice since it’s deeper.” He is clearly stressed, you can tell by how he’s holding his head stumped and how tired he looks. Then you have a lightbulb moment.

“Wait….” you turn your laptop so he can see what you mean, “Take the drums but turn on sound opacity.” You can tell Hongjoong isn’t sure on what you’re hinting but you have his upmost confidence.

“And then bring in spare vocals from Jongho’s scrapped harmony.” You intently watch him follow your directions. When he’s finished he plays back the beat. There it was, the best version of the title track.

You two take a break since Joong ordered you both chinese takeout. You’re both on his studio’s couch he’s sitting down while you’re laying on the rest of the space, your legs resting on Hongjoongs.

While taking the plastic off your straw and poking it into your drink, “5 songs done, a title track and 3 more to go.” You’re giggling. “With the rate we’re going making them together. Ateez might have an early comeback.”

“Yea I don’t know what I could’ve done or could do without you, I need you around all the time.” You pause while pushing your food around but get back into tossing it around to your liking.

You notice you and Joong haven’t taken a single bite of each others food. Are you both nervous, nervous about what though…is he going to…He doesn’t mean it like that he sees you as a friend. The thought racks your brain. “Ahh thank you Joong it’s sweet to know you think of me so well.”

She’s dodged me again. Joong thinks to himself holding back letting out a harsh sigh of frustration.

“I- I need your vocals for this sound bite …can we record it now before we wrap up.” Your eyes widened suprised he’d ask you and not maddox or anyone else. “Sure, meet me in the booth.” You walk in first while Joong puts both of your food in a microwave.

You both head in and place on the headphones and adjust the mic to y’all’s height. He handed you lyrics, the melody starts and you sing. Hongjoong is once again enamored hearing you sing and watching you feel the music all through your body. His lips are parted and eyes are on you alone. Once you’re finish your part you look up to see Joong sing his portion but he’s silent and his eyes are stuck on yours.

“I love you.”…..that wasn’t in the script, maybe it’s an adlib you think but Joong was staring as serious as ever. “I’ve loved you for a while and I want you to be mine, I mean this- this isn’t a song Y/n.” Denial is sitting in your chest. “Joong you’re just tired let’s go home.”

Hongjoong is over it. What more could you need to understand his feelings for you, what else could he possibly need to do to spell it out.

Joong pulls you in and kisses you, the kiss starts with soft light pecks but the more you lean into the kiss the more confident he became, soon the kiss became more hungry and daring,, he even introduced his tongue.

Moments later when the kiss finally breaks, Hongjoong is nipping and kissing at your neck, he goes back up to your ear, “If you want to stop just tell me now.”

“Keep going….I want this.” You both kiss again, charged with lust and want. “Go to the couch.” you and him rush to it. He sits first and looks up at you.

“Take your shorts off.” You pull your shoes off and begin sliding your shorts down. “Should I take my shirt off too.” Hongjoong licks his lips and nods, he removes his own shirt so you won’t get shy with the exposure. He pulls you onto his lap.

You both begin kissing again but now his hands are grabbing and pawing your ass, after teasing you to when he sees fit, he grabs your hips and begins to slowly but surely grind your body back and forth across his thigh. He leaned forward so his mouth was against your jawline, his warm breath tickling you, “Do you wanna get off on my thigh pretty?” He asked, and his teeth grazed the last column of your neck.

The shyness is eating you up so all you can do is nod and begin rocking your hips at a moderate pace. Hongjoong grips your hips tighter and begins pressing your farther on his thigh and helping you roll your hips faster. Soon he slides you down on the lower part of his leg

He starts quickly bouncing his leg, the friction of your heat and his thigh becomes overwhelming. “Go ahead love,,let go for me..” You grip his shoulders tighter and rock your hips 2..3….4 more times before you finish on his thigh.

Joong was insatiable though…he needed more he wanted to see more of your expressions. He begins slowly bouncing again. You whimper from the sudden continuation of pressure and quickly cover your own mouth because of the noises you were making.

Joong couldn’t have this though, he takes the hand over your mouth and puts it into his “I need to hear you baby let me listen to how I make you feel”. He purposely bounces his leg and presses you farther again, you moan and pant aloud which leads to a face of satisfaction appearing on him. Moments later you’re undone again creating another mess on his thigh.

Hongjoong gently laid your body on the couch and removed your panties. He sat in awe with the amount of slick coming with them. He groans at the view, looks down and his eyes burn into your heat. He takes his thumb and presses it and makes slow experimental circles. “Joong please move faster.” He makes quicker tight circles and prods your slit with the knuckles of his other fingers. “Is it ok to put one in.” He slowly runs them up and down your slit while you can feel your heartbeat in your clit. “Shit- yes please.”

He leans forward to give you a french kiss and then slowly brings his middle and index finger into your heat. He is caught in a trance moving them in and out, hearing them squelch when inside and watching your hips squirm and breath quicken. He begins reaching them deeper and farther to find the gspot that resides in you, when he pushed and watched your eyes roll back into your head and legs almost shut on his hand he knows.

That’s when he starts pressing and curling his fingers and now you’re at the point of no return. “Cmon baby cum on my fingers.” He presses his thumb against your clit causing a stream of pleasure to shoot through you and begins to finger fuck you at a pace that makes you start propping yourself up on the couch. He removes his thumb and buries his face in your cunt and brings your clit to his mouth, he sucks and nips at it harshly making your voice let out and bounce on the studio walls. A higher pitch “Fuckkk” escapes your mouth while you cum the third time.

Joong tries to get as much of your arousal from your cunt as he can. He feels you get tense and brings an arm to your thigh and squeezes, he paused to say “Just cleaning you up baby.” Soon he takes quick but long licks back to back to get whatever he missed. He lightly kissed your inner thighs and rises back up. He pulls down his shorts and reveals his cock, painfully hard and leaking pre.

You already make your way to his lap attempting to bring it into yourself so you can ride while facing him. Joong stops you however…”Let me take care of you.” He kisses and takes quick lovebites on your neck. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted..let me take care of this pussy, yea ?” You shiver by the confidence that’s filled him. You nod and he raises you up and gently slides his cock up into you.

He starts with shallow pumps, hoping not to hurt you. There’s a small sting but it’s drowned out by how good being stretched by him feels. “h-harder.” You mutter, but Joong needs to fully hear it from you. “Use your words love.” You hide your face in his neck while he carefully rolls his cock into you. “Fuck me harder Joongie.” The nickname has him spiraling. He starts straight bucking his hips up and bringing your hips down onto his cock.

You’re both still facing each other and he stares into your eyes and watches you moan and cry on his dick. He can watch you forever, he speeds up craving to see your eyes flutter and roll back more…to watch you bite your lip and stare into his eyes pleading for release. “Watch how pretty you are down here baby.” He whispers. His forehead is leaning onto yours and you both watch his dick fucks into you. You’re clenching harder than ever making Joong hiss and fuck you faster.

“I- I love you too Joong.” He smiles and hits you with a feverish kiss.

He slaps your ass before he grabs your hips harsher. You’re on the brink, you can’t take it any longer. “Cum for joongie one last time.” He whispers into your ear and then you become undone for the final time. Joong pulls out and jerks his cock until he nuts on your lower stomach.

He lays you down on the couch before he walks to his studio closet. He wipes your face and abdomen down with some semi warm wipes and gives you a pair of his black sweats and hands you some slippers you left here when you first departed. “Here love.” You’re handed an ice cold bottle of juice he left in the studio mini fridge at the beginning of the day.

While putting his shirt back on and raising his shorts, “Wanna grab our food and come to my place for a movie ? ”

“What about the final 3 songs ?” It comes out quiet because the final orgasm knocked your voice out of you.

“We’ve got tomorrow, and the next day and the next day..” he kisses your lips and lands a quick one on the top of your head.

“We’ve got forever if you stay by me.”

626 notes · View notes

shiroganeryo · 4 months ago

Text

DGM 252: New perspectives and confirmations it has given us

⚠️First of all, I'll be tagging this under DGM spoilers so if you have somehow stumbled upon this even if you're avoiding spoilers for Chapter 252 (or the most recent DGM talks as a whole), this is your warning to turn back now!

And secondly, I'm under the effect of allergy meds so please pardon me if I'm talking gibberish 😂 But the latest chapter has given us some food for thought and I've been mulling it over.

There are two points I want to cover in this post; the first one being much extensive while the other is rather short.

1. Bookman Jr.

The reveal that the guy we had thought to be Past!A all along was actually the former Bookman Jr. in one of the best twists Hoshino has given us in a while - she sounded very proud of how we were all misled by her narrative and honestly I tip my hat at her for such genius - has also fueled questions about his identity.

I'll start by saying I do not believe he and Cross are the same person. That's not what I'll be talking about so I'm playing this card right off the bat. This theory, although popular, has always had way too many gaps for my liking and after the latest chapter, the chances are practically null that it's true.

If you want a discussion as to why, this post has put it into words better than I could and I agree 100% with OP's point, hence why I don't see the need to say anything on the matter.

But there's one thing that I'm yet to see people discussing and it's about the talk Lucia had with Joe back in The 222nd Night: Searching for A.W. - Hypokrisis.

(I'm showing what I believe to be the official translated English version by Viz and there's a reason why)

For a long time, people have debated about this small exchange between Lucia and Joe. There's no doubt the one they're talking about is old man Bookman, so we can confidently affirm he's the one waiting at the Campbell Mansion.

And what about Lavi? This is where the next dialogue from Lucia comes into play:

Since this is probably the version a lot of people have read, I must make it clear that the like "Junior, his successor, isn't here" was a mistranslation. Here's the original:

Lucia: Koukeisha to naru Jr. wa mou imasen. (The one who'd become his successor, Jr, is no more.)

I've double-checked with the Brazilian Portuguese translation because it tends to be as close to the original as possible, and surely enough, it's translated correctly:

(image courtesy of the volume I own by my so-so phone camera 😋)

"Junior, who was his heir, is no more."

The literal translation for what Lucia is saying is "isn't among us anymore", but that's an expression in Portuguese that means that someone has died/doesn't walk on Earth anymore.

While the mistranslated English version and the original Japanese/Brazilian version have similar meanings, the way it's worded gives the sentence a completely different meaning: in one we're led to believe Jr. isn't physically there at the Mansion, while the other two make it clear that Jr. has died.

And that's exactly why that, after Chapter 252 dropped, this scene is given a new perspective - because Lucia was referring to the former Bookman Jr, and not the current one.

We don't know the whereabouts of current Lavi - cue in the chair jokes, I unfortunately love them all - and while I might be wrong, I have my reasons to believe he's alive.

It just doesn't feel like Hoshino to kill an important character off-screen, plus she has said we'll see him again eventually and that the mystery of what's behind his eyepatch is still to be revealed (and will only happen once Bookman passes away, something that will possibly happen before the story reaches its end).

I have the feeling Lavi still has much to contribute to the story and he's actually one of the characters that, to me, seem to have the highest odds of making it alive until the end. It also isn't mere coincidence that Bookman picked the same alias for both Juniors, since Lavi has mentioned in a discussion room that the aliases refer to their record logs and the Holy War is being recorded under 'Lavi'. There's unfinished business to be taken care of.

Using the mistranslated version to illustrate was important because I've seen people wondering where Lavi is if not in the Mansion, while others were afraid he has died. He's very likely in a predicament, but dead? I don't think so.

So that only leaves us with one viable subject for that dialogue, that being the former Bookman Jr. (now affectionately dubbed Lavi Sr. by the fandom).

"But how come they didn't know Bookman already had a new apprentice back in Chapter 222 if the Zoogles mentioned it in Chapter 251?"

Yes, it's a little odd. What I can infer from this is that they either 1. Didn't know Bookman already had a new Jr. because he had been unconscious and only after they stabilized his situation they could talk, or 2. Did know about the current Lavi but believe him not to be ready to take on the mantle yet while Lavi Sr. was (but unfortunately deserted the clan).

Since only the Bookman and his appointed apprentice, who was born with the seal, can exchange information and records via their blood, it might be not that off the chart that the Zoogles weren't up-to-date on his affairs since they're not Bookmen themselves but rather a bloodline of people scattered across the globe who are supporters of Bookman's mission like Lucia has explained. Yet, even if they aren't all-knowing, it seems odd for them not to know something as vital as that about the person they're supporting.

And of course, there's also the possibility of option 3, something else that I completely failed to consider right now. Time will tell which one.

Note: By the way, the Lucia in 222 and the Lucia in 251/252 are indeed the same person; Hoshino seemed to hint there's a reason behind her sudden aging that we don't know yet. It's important to make this clear since what I've said is related to dialogues delivered by her.

2. Past!A = current Allen

(image courtesy of Kougeki Scans' Chapter 251's translation)

There were theories around and people still considering the possibility of our current Allen being a clone and all sorts of theories because of the unexplainable age gap between him and Past!A, but it seems the deaging theory has been fully confirmed by Chapter 252, as we saw it taking place before our very eyes.

There are still some mysteries surrounding it, but seeing how Apocryphos mentioned the "Helix", we can't help but be taken back to the explanation we've previously seen about the Helix of Life (The 221st Night - The Clown's Joke).

Since that's a topic that feels like there's more to it as of now, I won't be discussing the how and why Allen deaged, especially with the unseen variable in the mix that is Innocence; who knows if that might make the Helix energy behave differently.

I was on the "deaging theory" train because Nea was able to recognize Past!A all right when he looks in the mirror (The 214th Night: Searching for A.W. - Awakening) and also questioned the presence of Innocence on his body as well as how he hadn't aged but instead had gotten younger (The 215th Night: Searching for A.W. - By Your Side).

There are many mistranslations in the official English version of these two chapters (214 and 215) that have fueled countless misconceptions within the fandom but I won't be pointing those out in this post since I'm not here this time specifically to talk about it.

Note: Mangadex seems to have nicely translated versions of these chapters if you want to check them out for a recalling - I can't confirm fully but what I read of them looked consistent and faithful to the original.

Anyways, back on track; now that we've seen what took place 35 years ago in Chapter 252, Nea's bewilderment at the current situation of Allen back in Chapter 214/215 makes a lot more sense.

And even more interesting is that as soon as he noticed the Innocence lodged into Allen's left hand, we see the image of Apocryphos, as if Nea could feel its presence. Turned out that meant more than just Apocryphos being able to resonate with all Innocence, but rather, that the very reason why that Innocence had found home in Allen's body was by its intervention.

Just what the hell, dude. That was, once again, extremely well-played on Hoshino's part. I'm really looking forward to the next chapter!

#DGM #DGM spoilers #analysis #d.gray man #d.gray-man #there was a third point I wanted to cover but the meds make me run on only two overworking braincells #so I actually forgot which that was #it's possible I covered it while talking about the other two points because I have the feeling I talked about everything I wanted #but if the post feels lacking somehow that's why

76 notes · View notes

thats-my-passion-right-there · 6 months ago

Text

More tag rants!!!!!!

I finally saw the mean girls musical (the movie one) I have so many fucking thoughts oh my god

#Oni talks #thoughts #mean girls 2024 #ok back to what I was saying about Aaron’s missed potential #so him being specifically in AP calc is interesting to me bc unless I’m wrong about how that works which fair I was in special math but you #have to qualify for AP calc iirc? or at least in my exp ppl only take AP calc vs regular for specific reasons like they actively want to #or are being made to by parents or have to for some specific reason coz usually there’s regular math progression classes and then special &#AP are separate in my experience. so you could have either leaned into the way he saw Cady as different from Regina via like the math thing #either having him bond because he likes math too hence AP or if you wanna keep him dumb you could lean into him valuing the difference of #Cady and how she’s good at math when he isn’t like it does sorta depend on if you wanna play it like he has to do AP or if he wants to like #does he enjoy math but still struggle with it? does he hate it? is he being pulled in a different direction like highschool musical style?#also if you wanted to highlight a difference from the original iirc (again been a while since I saw it) having Cady tutor him instead could #be more interesting? like if he’s required to learn for a sport or something #not in the using way tho but in like the he actually needs help way? also we lack enough of his perspective of Regina like I think again #keeping her canonically closeted could be interesting from his perspective of clearly seeing her lack of interest in him & what that does #for his self esteem & depending how toxic of a relationship you want his reaction to Cady being like Regina can be stronger like imagine you #finally escape your toxic/maybe abusive idk ex & think you finally found someone who actually cares about you only for them to start acting #exactly like your ex? if you wanna keep the math nerd shit & them bonding maybe Regina teased him for it & he thought he finally saw someone #who wasn’t ashamed of it and who could share with him? or just anything that makes him a person coz to be fair in the original and in this #it’s clear Cady only ever liked him for his looks & not him as a person so that could be interesting if we have that parallel Regina & if #we keep closeted Regina & the concept that maybe she’s stringing him along bc she’s jealous bc she likes Cady? &/or if we keep the fact like #he’s clearly popular too right so we could turn around those lyrics & lean into the concept of Regina performing & using him for her own #status & not really caring about him or the relationship? if we wanna expand the third guy who tbh is also just kinda there but even more lo #if this was a show he’d need more story and there’s plenty of ways you could do that? also in an expanded version one thing I’d find cool #janis gf at the end is so last minute? like ya she’s gay but sudden random date? ok lol obv in a show version there’s more plot or build up #or just SOMETHING? similar with Damian’s love interest where at least they are shown before but we have like 0 story for them lol also one #awkward side effect of no janisXKevin is he’s kinda just there? I feel like there could be more ties or more for him to do coz I do find his #character interesting partially coz he does remind me of ppl I used to know irl again lol if you wanted him to keep that proud to be a math #guy & say we keep Aaron invested in math they could have a plot together I guess? obviously part of why I’d want this to be a show is to #expand and give room to the crumbs in the movie that needed time to breathe but tbf there would need to have some new stuff too to round out

5 notes · View notes

svt-rosalie · 1 year ago

Text

. . . ♡ ROSALIE ! ? 🏴‍☠️ SCENARIO ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ ATEEZ PRESENT, 2019 ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

warnings. rosalie being a fan girl, bts being rosie’s other group of older brothers, ateez is awkward babies, wooyoungie has a little crushhhhhhhh, horrible writing, spelling mistakes, bad jokes,

authors note. please bear with me…i have not written an actual scenario chapter in a WHILE, so this a practice for me sorry to do with ateez but it’s okay hopefully you guys like it

The stadium felt so small yet so big at the same time. The amount of people was the cause of this, Rosalie thought, it seemed as if the space the fans took up was the whole stadium and their screams were deafening.

The air felt thick as she and her band members made their to their assigned seats, chalking it up to the amount of people residing in the stadium and not the nerves racing through out her body like a cheetah through the jungle.

The group was heading inside after their interview that took place outside, glad to be out of the cold. The dress that Rosalie was styled in was a strapless red velvet textured skin tight gown with a slit down her right leg with a (uncomfortably big) bow on the back, though it was a gorgeous dress, it was not meant to be worn during December. She needs to remind herself to speak to her stylist about investing in some long sleeves.

Rosalie felt a sense of accomplishment for herself and her older brothers, they had a tough year and even though their leader could not be there with them, they were going to perform for him and for carats despite everything. Rosie was knocked out of her trance when she felt a tap on her shoulder indicating someone needed/wanted her attention.

“Ahh, Yoongi oppa!” She smiled brightly giving him a big hug, Yoongi patted her head in response with a laugh. Rosie knows he doesn’t like skin ship all that much but ignores his protest everytime and hugs him with all her might.

Yoongi lightly pulls away looking Rosie looks at him continuing to smile as happily as she can. “Quit the bullshit, why are you so nervous? I can tell something’s up?” Rosie shakes her head with a pout “No, nothing is wrong.”

That was the biggest lie if Yoongi ever did see one.

“You don’t have to lie to me.” He sighed and Rosie did as well. She looked around wondering if any of her group mates were listening in, doubting they could with how loud it was, she could barely hear Yoongi speak.

“There is just a lot going on at the moment and it’s hard not having Scoups oppa here with us.” She admitted.

Yoongi nodded in understanding.

“If you ever need me, you call me. I’ll always listen.” He said, rubbing his thumb across the top of her hand. Rosalie nodded with a smile before being interrupted by a loud voice.

“If you ever need us! Let’s clarify that.” Seokjin stated wrapping his arms around Rosie’s shoulders, Taehyung and Jungkook not too far behind him. Letting out a bright giggle that seemed to light up the room, she pulled the three other older boys into hugs.

“I’m so excited to see you guys perform!” She says excited.

“Well hopefully we do you proud, it’s gonna be a good one. We’re performing your favorite so don’t cry please!” Jungkook says. “You’re performing Mikrokosmos?” She squealed.

They all nodded laughing at her antics. “I’m gonna go find the seats we’re gonna be sitting in but i’ll call you guys if I don’t see you at the end! Okay?” Rosalie asked. “Sounds good to us, be safe and if we didn’t say it tonight you look gorgeous!” Taehyung said. Rosie pouts and puts her hands over heart nodding in thanks.

The boys in Bangtan always knew how to make her feel special. Yes, she has 12 older brothers and one situationship that has not been figured out yet that she can go to for advice and comfort, but having an outside perspective on situations that she doesn’t want to speak about with her members was always helpful! The seven boys always seem to know when she needs said comfort after all these years.

As Rosalie walked with her head slightly down to watch her feet to make sure she didn’t step on her dress, she didn’t notice the boy walking with their back towards her who was talking to his own group members.

“Mingi watch out!” A voice shouted and tried to grab at him before he ran into the 5’10 female but it was no use the two went down in a what looked like a bowling pin getting knocked down by a bowling ball.

Rosalie groaned in pain, “Yep, there goes the hip.” she says sarcastically.

“We are so sorry sunbaenim! We didn’t see you there and by the time we did Mingi accidentally hit you. We are so sorry again!” The voice of Yunho surfaced as they all bowed whilst the boy, Mingi, who knocked her down helped her get back up to her feet.

Rosalie waved her hands, “No, no it’s okay! I wasn’t watching where I was going either, I’m so scared to slip in this dress that I wasn’t watching straight ahead for other people.” She reassured the Ateez boys as much as she could.

“Am I going to have 13 people jumping me, because I just got off hiatus and do not want to go leave again.” Mingi mumbled to himself, but somehow Rosalie still heard and laughed loudly surprising all the boys.

It was a bit reassuring to them that she laughed and smiled, but that didn’t tell them if it was ‘oh your so funny laugh it’s okay they won’t hurt you’ laugh/smile or a ‘yes my 13 other members who could probably bench press you will hurt you for knocking their precious only female member maknae over’ laugh/smile.

“No don’t worry Mingi, it’s okay. I’ve gotten worse from my own members. Mingyu oppa acts like we’re in WWE and body slams me into pools, so I think I can handle a little tumble.”

All the boys nodded, glad that one of their favorite idols was okay.

“Well we’re very excited to see your performance Sunbaenim!” San said smiling brightly.

Rosalie couldn’t help but smile back, “Thank you! I’m so excited to see yours! I know the entire dance to Wonderland so I will definitely be showing my support for you guys tonight.”

It’s like Ateez just kept getting surprised by their sunbaenim more and more as they talked. First she jokes around with them like their long time friends, then she says she knows their recent comeback Wonderland, and she knows Mingi’s name.

Wait. . . she knows Mingi’s name!

“Oh, Rosalie sunbaenim do you know us?” Hongjoong asked.

“Of course I do! I’ve been an Atiny since your guys debut, I love your music and sound. I’ve been wanting to become friends with you guys for a while but my schedule and company haven’t allowed me the time.” She said subconsciously pouting.

Wooyoung couldn’t help but think “Wow, she’s pretty” in her stunning makeup that brought her best features and the dress that matches her curves so well. He was heaven in her presence.

“Oh thank you! You all are handsome too!” She said smiling proudly.

“I said that out loud.” Wooyoung said, eyes wide and mouth gaped open. His members laughed and clapped him on the back.

“Wooyoung hyung has had a crush on you since your debut—” Jongho says, or at least tries to before his mouth was covered by said person.

Rosalie’s eyes widen in shock, a red blush covered her face. Thank god her makeup artist decided to apply the foundation a little heavier tonight.

Wooyoung dragged Jongho away before the maknae could say anything more embarrassing saying his bye’s for himself and the younger boy.

The others that stayed laughed. “Well, we should probably follow them before Wooyoung takes out our main vocalist, but we’ll be cheering you on Rosalie sunbaenim.” Seonghwa says.

Rosalie nodded in understanding, adjusting her dress a little. “I’ll be cheering you guys on too! I’ll speak to my manager about getting in contact with yours so we can go to dinner sometime! I would like to become friends with you all if that’s alright!”

“Of course!” Mingi says a little too quick.

Rosalie couldn’t help but laugh again, “I’ll see you all shortly, it was nice to bump into you.” she says waving and bowing before turning around and walking towards her group knowing damn well most of them were watching the interaction and would definitely get questioned later.

Yeosang looked between all his members before asking “Did that really just happen? Rosalie sunbaenim wants to have dinner with us?”

San nodded in a daze “She was so pretty too! I hope we can become great friends with her.” They all nodded in agreement to his statement before walking off to find Wooyoung before he killed Jongho.

Oh, just you wait boys — that statement will become more true than you know!

taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea

click here to join the taglist!

324 notes · View notes

runningfrom2am · 1 year ago

Text

in this life or the next (part II)

summary: you and rafe won the 75th annual Hunger Games as a team, but at what cost?

pairing: rafe x fem!reader

wc: 11.4k

tags/warnings: not as much as you would expect for a Hunger Games fic honestly. spoilers for the og Hunger Games movies I guess (but also not bc i changed it up a bit- you'll see), Ward being a shitty dad (as per usual). also this isn't thoroughly edited bc.. it's long and i'm still lazy.

masterlists // nav // requests

join my taglist here

a/n: hi guys! this is part two of this fic, and i'm honestly pretty proud of how this story is coming together!! i hope anyone who enjoyed that one enjoys this one :) also i very much set it up for part three so look forward to that (eventually).

"Without further adieu, I'm pleased to welcome back, from District One and District Five, Rafe Cameron and Y/N Y/L/N, this year's Victors!" The base of the talk show's theme music bellowed in your ears as you followed your cue, holding tightly onto Rafe's hand as you took the stage again. You never imagined you would be back here, but you're grateful to be.

"Rafe, Y/N, I cannot honestly put into words how pleased I am to have you both back with me tonight. We're all so excited to have you- aren't we?" Caesar smiled, riling up the crowd once more as the cheers had died down. Rafe had a smile glued to his face, squeezing your hand once you were both sat down before letting it go.

"We're happy to be back." Rafe replied and you nodded, smiling over at him. He looked so much better- the colour had returned to his skin, a subtle pink flush you didn't care to take notice of before the games.

"I bet you are." Caesar nodded. "We have so much to talk about, but first, I'd like to personally congratulate you both on your win. This was the first-ever games to produce two winners, I hope you understand the extent of your accomplishment."

"Thank you, yeah." You smiled, turning your attention to the man across from you. "I couldn't have done it without him."

"Likewise," Rafe said, gently nudging your shoulder with his hand. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a smile.

"God, I just love your chemistry." Caesar said, smiling and leaning his chin onto his palm. This resulted in more laughs and cheers from the audience. "This is a perfect segue, actually," He sits up straighter again, a slight laugh leaving him. "You were aware that we were all watching, right? Because there were some very real... intense moments between you two in the arena that had us on the edge of our seats. The whole 'will they, won't they' tension was so palpable. So, I think we all just want to know, was it real?"

Rafe nodded, watching the man intently as he listened to him speak. You were both wondering where he was going with that, but while you felt your face burning red, you came up with a logical answer that effectively dodged what he was really asking. "I mean, yeah, of course, such significant amounts of stress on both the body and the mind would make anyone vulnerable in a way you wouldn't expect."

Rafe shifted in his seat, turning his gaze to you as Caesar nodded at your answer. "But with Y/N it was just so easy. She gave me a new perspective on everything, which I appreciate still so greatly. Just, yeah I don't think I could ever see myself sort of... opening up in that way with anyone else." Rafe added, thinking for just a moment before shaking his head with a slight laugh. "I didn't even care that the world was watching, because I knew she was listening, you know?"

A chorus of 'aw's came from the audience and you smiled at him, looking to Caesar quickly to gauge his reaction. His was fairly similar, hand clutched to his chest with a pout in his lip. "Well, there's your answer, folks. It's very real. That is just so sweet." He nods.

"Rafe is right," You chimed in, silence falling over the building. "But truly it is just such a harrowing, scary experience, and up until last year's games we had never seen tributes connecting in a way that we were given the opportunity to, in a similar way to Katniss and Peeta had, the tributes from twelve last year. I think that is a new experience for both the viewer and for us as tributes, and it sets a new standard for the games. I just count myself so lucky that I got chosen to be Rafe's partner, because otherwise we never would have met- or we at least wouldn't have gotten the chance to see each other as real people, with thoughts and feelings and families waiting at home."

When you finished speaking, the silence stuck for a few moments that felt like an eternity. "Well... Yes, I suppose you're right, Y/N." Caesar agreed, but you still felt in your gut that you had said something wrong as the audience murmured and whispered to each other. "I think this is a good time to move on, because Y/N, you just have such a way with words, and we all saw in the games that you have... just one of the most amazing minds we have ever seen in a tribute."

"Isn't it cool?" Rafe added, leaning in and looking between the two of you with a smile on his face. "Caesar, I told you she had a secret weapon!" The audience loved this, instantly coming back to life with laughs and cheers.

"Yes, you did! We definitely didn't expect that!" Caesar chuckles. "So, Y/N, let us in a little bit more- at what point did you realize that the arena was recycled?"

"Oh, immediately." You answered with a nod, folding your hands in your lap. "Honestly by the time I saw the cornucopia for the first time I confirmed it, it was kind of a relief."

He claps his hands together, clearly impressed. "That's incredible! You proved it over and over again. My favorite part was the bag- we were all so confused and I personally got a bit of a laugh when you were trying to point it out to Rafe and he just had this hilarious confused look on his face! From the first thirty seconds, you guys already had this dynamic that had everyone in Panem hooked on watching you. So please, Y/N, tell us what your secret is. How your brain works, if you will."

"Please, Y/N/N." Rafe agreed, mocking Caesar's intrigued posture as he gazes at you waiting for you to elaborate.

You laughed, gently smacking his shoulder. "I just... I don't know. I see something, learn something, whatever the context may be, and then I just know it. I assume it's the same for you, but I just hold on to all the extra stuff. I think I'm broken, or something. I didn't even know this was abnormal until Rafe pointed it out during our training- I just always thought I was smarter than my siblings." You joke, laughing slightly.

"Well, I can only imagine you would be hard to compete with academically with a mind like yours." Caesar chuckled. "So, tell us, what's next for Panem's favourite couple- as I understand you now are."

You and Rafe made eye contact briefly. You hadn't talked about it, despite having hardly left each others sides since you returned. "I don't know." You shrug. "I suppose whatever you guys tell us to do."

"I think we'll go home, see our families, relax a bit and then we'll be back and ready for the victory tour in a few months." Rafe cut in. Had you said something wrong again?

"And we can't wait- we will miss having you guys on our screens everyday, that is for sure." Caesar smiled, standing up which made up your signal to do the same.

"We look forward too seeing you again soon." Rafe smiled, shaking Caesar's hand as you stood up, quickly adjusting your dress in the meantime.

"Thank you so much for joining me tonight, and congratulations again on your win. Enjoy your time at home." Caesar turned to you, giving you a quick hug before you held Rafe's arm and walked offstage, waving to the audience for hopefully the last time in a while.

As you recalled the memory of the last time you saw Rafe in person, you find yourself getting nervous at the idea of seeing him again. It had been a long six months- and you had exchanged an endless string of handwritten letters.

Life for you in the Victor's Village was pleasant, refreshing, even- since it had felt like forever since you had known any kind of peace. It's in a quiet area of town, giving you lots of space to enjoy real fresh air in a way that felt safe. Unfortunately, your vivid nightmares couldn't be quelled by the cool breeze or your sisters sleeping peacefully next to you or the room across the hall.

Rafe had found out that yes, you did sign your name with a heart normally. At least, you did in the many letters he had received from you. It had been the longest six months of his life, but at the same time, a whirlwind of everything happening all at once. Regardless, he spent the entire time walking on eggshells around his father.

When Rafe was reunited with his family, his sister had thrown herself at him with such force he stumbled back when he caught her in his arms, holding her tight with a hand over the back of her head. "I never thought I would see you again..." She mumbled, chin wobbling against his shoulder.

"I missed you so much, Wheeze, you have no idea." He whispered back, gently stroking the back of her hair. He put her down gently, but she refused to let go of his waist as he acknowledged the rest of his family. Sarah, stoic, standing alongside their dad with a matching expression. She, somehow, had a smile behind her eyes that Rafe was all too familiar with. Sarah was happy to see him, though she would never admit it in Ward's presence.

"Rafe." Ward smiled, suddenly, shockingly, only until Rafe realized they had cameras on them as his father walked up and smacked a hand onto his shoulder, guiding him away. District One was proud to have another Victor to add to the growing roster, and they would always celebrate accordingly. Somehow, Rafe didn't feel special.

"Hey, Dad," Rafe replied, smiling nervously as his dad gave his shoulder a squeeze. He knew he was in trouble- big trouble, and maybe staying in the capitol wouldn't have been so bad. He hoped you were facing a more genuine welcome in Five.

"Are you excited to see your girlfriend today?" Sarah asks, bringing him back to reality as she leaned against the entryway to their home gym. To Rafe, their whole house felt cold now. The mansion was decorated mostly in white, with marble flooring and high ceilings that made the home feel so much emptier than he remembered it. Most of the time, he stayed alone at the home he'd been granted in the victors village.

"Yeah. I don't think she's my girlfriend, though." He replies, hardly tearing his eyes away from the combat training equipment that still haunts him.

Sarah furrows her brow accompanying a confused laugh. "What? Only all of Panem sees you as the hottest couple, but you don't know?"

"We never got to talk about it. So, yeah, I don't know."

"Will you ask her?"

Rafe shrugs, getting up from the bench and throwing the towel over his shoulder. "Probably. She's the only good thing I can think about, these days."

"You better get on that. I heard from the news that there's an engagement announcement on the horizon!" Sarah calls, turning on her heel as she heads back down the hall.

Rafe sighs, grabbing his water bottle and heading out after her. He's wanted to talk about this, of course, but in the victor's interview you mentioned that anyone would be so vulnerable with all that stress- and he couldn't help but be a little hurt by that. Then again, you've sent him letter after letter since you had been apart, so the signals he's getting are mixed- to say the least.

As he changes into the clothes his dad picked out for him for the first day of the Victory Tour, he hopes that seeing you again will bring only good memories. Not that there are many to choose from- but something in his gut is telling him that you will be the cure to his nightmares, or at the very least, someone to talk to about everything, even if it's just for a few months a year. Forever.

You're standing at the train station, surrounded by your family and an array of cameras, everyone anxiously awaiting the two of you being reunited. It's unknown to you if he will even get off the train, part of you hopes that he doesn't so your sisters don't get the chance to bug him. "He'll be happy to see you, hey?" Your mom interrupts your thoughts, nudging you gently with her elbow.

"Maybe." You shrug, pulling at the loose strings on the hem of your dress. "I don't know, I don't want to go. I'd rather stay home, Mom."

"I know, sweetheart... And we'll miss you." She sighs, kissing the side of your head and pulling you close with an arm around your shoulders. "But maybe it'll be nice to talk to him. He must understand you better than we can, these days."

"I don't know about that." You say softly, gazing down the tracks at the sound of the train quickly approaching. You take a deep breath, turning to hug your sisters so you have time. You were on a very tight schedule already, Opal was making sure of that. The train couldn't leave a minute late- even though you're sure that you and Rafe may be precious cargo, considering you're the only ones on it, spare for your teams, and the only reason the train is making this journey at all.

"I'll bet he jumps out of the train and tackles you to the ground because he missed you so, so, soooo much!" Your youngest sister giggles, clinging tightly to your arm.

You decide not to acknowledge it, eyes locked on the silver metal as it pulls up in front of you. "Don't say anything to him, you best leave him alone." Your dad reminds her, peeling her from your arm and into his side instead.

The door slides open, and just as you're lifting your one bag you're met with Rafe. Seeing him for the first time in person for months is shocking. He looks tired- you guess he's been having nightmares too. "Y/N.." He says, almost breathlessly as he leans against the door of the train.

"Hi." You whisper, giving him the best smile you can muster. Truly, you are happy to see him, but you do know he has to put on a show of the two of you being reunited. He jumps down, taking three large strides toward you before pulling you close and burying his face in your hair. "I'm so happy to see you."

"Me too." He mumbles, letting you go after a moment.

"Welcome to District Five, I guess." You laugh nervously, gesturing around you.

"Thank you, I've never been here before," Rafe explains, rather unnecessarily. "The ride was beautiful."

Opal is trying to usher you from behind the camera to move onto the train, and Rafe's hand is hanging at his side, fingers brushing gently over your arm. You get the message, just about to finally wave off your family for a second time. "Wait, hold on." Your dad cuts you off, stopping you both in your tracks.

"Thank you, Son." He nods, holding out his hand to Rafe. You can see his chin wobble, but you can also see that he's trying to keep a brave face for the cameras. Your family had been warned to not speak to him, to just say goodbye and let you walk onto the train since your reunion would be telecasted live- but he just couldn't let Rafe get away without him knowing how much he appreciated him saving you.

Rafe takes his hand and shakes it, returning the nod. "I would have died before taking her from you." They would have a less formal opportunity to meet towards the end of the tour when you revisited Five for a big celebration in both of your honour. You were already dreading it. Anyway, now, they only really had time for pleasantries. Not even that, if they were to follow Opal's schedule.

Cameras are quickly cut, and you wave goodbye now as you're actually forced onto the train. "Gosh, you two, we have places to be. Seriously." Opal says sternly, walking on behind you along with your stylist's team.

It's only a little while until you were talking again, like you had never been apart- and like everything was normal. Until, as the sun set over the mountains in District Eleven, you both got quiet, looking out the array of windows in the very last car.

"I'm glad to see you normally sign your name with a heart."

"Huh?"

"Uh, in the cave. You put your name on the wall, with a little heart beside it. I remember wondering if you normally write your name like that, and you do."

"Oh, yeah. When I'm signing something, I guess." You agree with a slight shrug. After a few moments of comfortable silence, both of you staring out the window over the tracks, you continue. "We're going to get in trouble. About what you said to my dad."

"I meant it," Rafe replies, not missing a single beat.

"Did Snow come to see you too?" You ask.

"Yeah." He nods. "I don't really care though, what can he do to me that he hasn't already done, you know?"

"He'd go after your sisters."

"He mentioned something about that. He won't, though. He's just trying to scare us into smiling for the cameras."

"I don't know..." You sigh. "I'd rather not risk it. Play it safe."

"You'll be doing that for the rest of your life, and he'll only demand more and more." Rafe shakes his head at you, reaching out and taking your hand. "With whatever is happening in the districts, he wouldn't run the risk of hurting our families. Your family, in particular. Panem loves your family, you gave them security by speaking so highly of them in the games, and they bought their own by spending all that money to send both of us something from home. He couldn't touch them without the whole country losing their minds."

"What? What's happening in the districts?" All you had seen on TV was reruns of your interviews and highlight reels of your own games. You tried not to watch much TV.

Rafe's eyes flicker with confusion as he scans your face. After a moment he realizes that of course, you wouldn't know. He only knows because of his dad- the news was so heavily censored in the outlying districts that there's no doubt you wouldn't have heard about the uprisings. "I-uh... My dad told me some stuff. There's been a couple of uprisings, nothing serious, but still. He wants us to keep them happy." He decidedly leaves out the fact that people in farther districts, outside of your own, are really not your biggest fans.

"Oh... Well, I'll try my best. Do you know what they were about?"

"No, uh, I don't know much about it. Sorry." Rafe mumbles, dropping your hand to push himself up from the couch. "I should probably get some sleep. You too."

Looking at how dark it is outside now, he's probably right. You have a long couple of weeks ahead, starting tomorrow. Starting it off with a full night's sleep would no doubt be beneficial- and who knows what time Opal will be waking you up in the morning.

You stretch out your arms as you stand up, yawning as you follow Rafe out the door and toward your cabin where your things are waiting for you.

It's not long after a quick shower that you pass out in bed, already tired and lulled to sleep by the steady movement of the train. And it's not long after that until you're standing on the silver pedestal that typically haunts your dreams yet again.

You look around, trying desperately to put together the pieces of where you are. You can't. You can, everything looks the same, but there's a feeling of panic in your gut that tells you you don't know a thing as the timer ticks down in front of you, the sound echoing throughout the arena.

Your head snaps to the left when you hear someone yelling for you. Your sister. She looks pale, you can practically see her shaking from where you're standing. She's yelling at you still, but you can't make out what she's saying as you realize that it isn't just her. Your whole family is there, and no sign of Rafe.

How are you supposed to do this without him?

The timer reaches zero, and the alarm blades signaling the games have begun. You're quick to sprint for your youngest sister, your first goal being getting her away. As you reach her you look back toward the cornucopia, blood already sprayed across the side of the glistening metal and bodies on the ground. Exactly the way it was last time.

"We have to get you out of here. We have to go south, we have to-" You're cut off by her freezing, stumbling back, and falling into the grass.

You call for her in a panic, looking back over your shoulder. You have nothing. There's nothing you can do to help as she chokes on blood from the knife now embedded in her chest.

It was you. You're standing there, a sick smile on your face with dropped shoulders- you had thrown it. Just how Rafe had taught you.

You wake up to the sound of your own screaming, sitting up quickly and kicking off your blanket. Your hair is stuck to your forehead as you scramble to place your surroundings. It wasn't real. It felt so real.

"Y/N?" You look up to the door in a panic as Rafe pushes the door open, brows furrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"

His presence starts to calm you almost instantly. "Yeah, just a dream." You say breathlessly. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

"I couldn't sleep anyway." He insists, stepping in and closing the door. "Can I stay?"

You just nod, sliding over to make room for him.

Rafe pads across the floor, climbing in bed next to you and laying down, getting comfortable as you lay facing each other. Your heart is still racing. You still see your sister suffering at your own hand.

Without saying a word, Rafe reaches up, hesitating for a moment before brushing your hair back from your forehead. "I get nightmares too." He whispers, settling his hand on your cheek, gently brushing over your skin with his thumb.

"I'm sorry." You whisper back, eyes still open as you try and look at him in the dark.

He knows you're not apologizing as if it's your fault, more so saying you wish that neither of you were plagued with the memories of what you had been through. "Me too." He whispers, finally closing his eyes. Maybe now, with you here, he'll feel safe enough to get a full night of sleep without being interrupted by the screams of the kids that he killed.

You wake up with another jolt when the door flies open, slamming against the wall. "Oh, thank god. Rafe! What are you doing in here? Get up, hurry. We've spent far too much time searching the train for you." You blink a few times, rubbing your eyes as you process the harsh awakening by his escort, Zara.

"I'm up..." Rafe grumbles from beside you, taking a deep breath in with his head pressed against your back and an arm over your waist.

"God, you scared me. Now come on, we're already late." She says, standing and holding the door, waiting for him to get moving.

He sighs in response, and you feel a rush of cold air as he leaves you, stretching as he gets up and follows Zara out of the room. The train has stopped moving, you notice this quickly as you get up yourself. It's safe to assume Opal is waiting for you as well.

Walking out onto the stage of District Twelve is humbling, to say the very least. They are among the poorest of Panem's districts, even District Five seems like the Capitol compared to this. The pedestals in front of us display images of the four tributes behind where their families stand. It is all too real as you stand there in front of a large crowd in yet another uncomfortable dress.

Rafe holds your hand as you walk out, scanning over the crowd too. Even his already fake smile begins to fade at the sight and he looks pale. He's clutching your speech cards in his other hand, and you clock how it's slightly shaking from nerves as you are directed to begin speaking and he raises the cards.

"We are united as Panem is united. Our love has opened our eyes to the greatness of our country." You can tell in his voice he's trying to maintain his charismatic charm, but it's failing him. He can't tear his eyes away from the tributes' families, recognizing the faces on the screens behind them. One of the girls stands out, and he shakes away her voice in his head begging him to spare her life with her leg caught in the trap he asked you to set. He adjusts his focus to the mountains in the distance before he continues. "Love illuminates the truth-"

"You're standing where Katniss and Peeta should be!" He's interrupted by someone shouting from the crowd. It's easy to pick out the voice in the sea of people. A boy, a few years older than you with dark hair and a strong build. He's worked his whole life, no doubt. There's a blonde girl next to him- Prim. Katniss's sister, who she had volunteered for last year.

Rafe is frozen, staring at them for a moment before looking back to Zara, who gestures for him to continue. He's squeezing your hand now, tighter. "That's her sister." You whisper to him before he gets the chance to speak again. "May I?"

He looks down at you, silently asking if you're sure. Secretly, Rafe is relieved. You nod to him again and he hands you the cards. You don't need them, so you place them down on the pedestal in front of you.

"I understand the tremendous loss your community has faced at the hands of these games. And I am sorry." Rafe taps your arm, watching you now as you speak. You look up at him briefly and he nods to you. "We are sorry." You correct, reading from him that that is what he wanted.

"We can't fix the past, but I can tell you that without Spruce, Fletcher, Trilly, and Cerise we wouldn't be standing here today. We are forever in debt to them, and to you, for something that we didn't want to take in the first place." You pause, clearing your throat as you feel a tightness in your chest. "I never knew Katniss or Peeta, but watching them at home inspired me, and remember wondering when I watched Katniss volunteer for little Prim if I would do the same for my sisters, and as much as I love them I realized that I don't know if I ever could. And then, at the end, when she and Peeta both chose to die rather than live without each other, rather than pumping out another victor from the games- I was in awe. Of their bravery, and of their sacrifice. I thought I could never do that. They were braver than me."

You stare around the silent crowd, aiming to memorize every face. "Then I met Rafe, and I finally understood them. We would have done the same, but we were given a greater opportunity. I don't know why it was us and not them, and what we did to deserve our lives again, but I am truly sorry that it wasn't them." You spit out, choking over every word.

"It's because he's one of them!" The same boy shouts, pointing at Rafe and you notice peacekeepers shoving their way through the crowd toward him.

Rafe swallows the lump in his throat, keeping a straight face as he looks out at the boy.

"We are sorry that you lost loved ones." You say again, looking up at him briefly.

Before you can continue, Rafe is moving you aside to speak again. "I will donate half of my winnings to the families of our fallen tributes, as well as the families of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. It is the very least I can do, and I know that it won't bring them back, but I am sorry."

Rafe sees the peacekeepers quickly approaching and he wraps one arm around you, holding the other out towards them. "Hey, hey! Don't touch her, we'll go." He says, letting the peacekeepers guide you back off of the stage and out of view as chaos breaks out in the crowd.

"Y/N Y/L/N are you crazy?" Opal is there quickly, looking like she is ready to smack you if she didn't know better.

"What? What did I do?" You ask, panic evident in your voice as you hear shots firing outside.

"She just said what she thought they wanted to hear." Rafe defends you, but even he knows you messed up. In the eyes of the President, anyways.

"Yes, but that is the exact opposite of what Snow wants to hear! And you! Offering them his money? Did you think that was smart?"

"I- I don't know, I didn't know what to do and lord knows I don't need it! They can have it all for all I care." Rafe sighs, shaking his head dismissively.

"Rafe! You were given explicit instructions to keep the peace! Your father is going to be furious, you realize that right?" Zara intervenes.

"Instructions to what, sell this 'against all odds love story'? They want us together so they can brainwash Panem into thinking that privileged districts and the stupid Capitol can get along with the others, and that we're all a big happy family, but its all bullshit. I don't want to be a part of that and I never asked to be." Rafe shouts at her, and Opal gasps as you look away.

"I'll- uhm, yeah. Right. Opal, can you come with me back to the train? I want to leave." You mumble.

She glares at Rafe as she places a hand on your back, leading you toward the exit with peacekeepers following to escort you out of the building.

Heartbreak wasn't exactly on your bingo card for the first day of the victory tour. At least you got your answers, though. Rafe wants nothing to do with you, and now you can go about the rest of your life being forced to pretend you're in love. Great.

The tour continues as scheduled. Every day, occasionally with a day of travel time in between, you find yourself standing on a stage, a smile glued to your face, reading from a script with your hand wrapped around one belonging to a boy who couldn't care less about you. It's torturous.

The day finally comes, after cycling painfully through all the other districts that you make it to the first of two big parties, you're finally home.

"Y/N, Honey, welcome home." Your mom greets you at the door with a hug.

"I missed you." You mumble, pulling her into a hug. She shuts the door behind you as you step away, looking outside for just a moment.

"Where's Rafe?"

"He's staying down the road." You mumble, avoiding eye contact with her and stalking up to your room.

You feel guilty about being grateful for the many empty houses in the victor's village, allowing him his own place to stay instead of staying with you.

You have a few hours of peace before Opal will come with your stylist to prep you and your family for the party and address that's happening tonight, and the one thing on your agenda before then is a good, long nap.

A good, long nap, however, was not something on your sister's agenda, and it was only a matter of minutes before she was barging into your room.

"Y/N! How come Rafe isn't here?" She asks aptly, throwing herself onto your bed next to you.

"He's busy." You grumble, pulling the blankets tighter around yourself.

"Oh, like you? So busy right now you can't say hi to your favourite sister?"

"You're not my favourite."

"Rude." She makes herself at home in your bed, curling up next to you. For the first three months you were home, she didn't leave your side. She had slept in your bed every night, uncomfortable both with the move and her new room away from the one you had previously shared, and also with the idea of losing you again. "Did you kiss him?" She giggles once she's settled in, whispering despite the first time you kissed Rafe being broadcast on national television for the whole country to see.

"No." You whisper back, feeling tears prick at your eyes. "He hates me."

"What? How? I need more details than that, I'm sure he doesn't hate you."

"It was all fake. To get people to like us, to make us win and now to keep Snow from coming after our families." You say quietly, finding it difficult to admit your naivety to even yourself. "He never meant any of it."

Your sister is shocked, jaw slack with your explanation. She's only sixteen, but you can see the gears turning in her head. She loves a romance book, and growing up in a house where your parent's hands were rarely disconnected has built her into somewhat of a relationship expert. Or so she thinks, at least. "No. No, that's not true."

"It is, he said it."

"Exactly like that? What were his exact words?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"I don't remember."

"You're lying. There's not a thing anyone has ever said to you that you've forgotten." She insists. "But, fine, I guess it doesn't matter because I know it's not true. I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not watching. He's so in love with you it's absurd. Trust me."

You sigh, pulling the blanket away from your face to look up at her. "Don't say that."

"Why? I'm right."

You sniffle, wiping your eyes on the sheet before explaining. "He said we're being forced together to prove something to the public, and he never wanted to be a part of that."

"I knew you were lying." Your sister smiles, pushing your hair back from your face. "But that means nothing. Less than nothing! I wasn't there, but he probably meant that he doesn't want to be together just to be a public spectacle, or to push some agenda that's not his own. That says nothing about how he truly feels about you."

"I don't know..." You reply, skeptical of her thought process. "You should have seen him. He was so angry-"

"At you?"

"Well, no-"

"Then it wasn't about you." She assures you, tucking herself into the blanket. "We'll have a nap, and then you'll talk to him tonight."

"I don't think that's a good idea." You protest.

"It is. Now shh, I'm napping." She hums, eyes already closed as she drapes her arm over your side.

The exhaustion took over and you did end up falling asleep, your sisters breath on your face calming you enough to get some well-needed rest.

You're woken up abruptly, thrown into a show dress that is at least comfortable enough to breathe in, and after being smothered in makeup and hair fried, you're pushed out of the door and into a car.

This address will be hard. You know Jack's family, and to see them standing on the pedestal across from you, behind the crowd, leaves you sick just at the thought of it. Maisie's as well, though you were far from responsible for her death. Again, the idea of why it was you and not them crosses your mind. At this point, you doubt it will ever stop.

Standing backstage, waiting for your queue, Rafe approaches you hesitantly. He knows you're angry, but over the last couple of weeks, you haven't given him a moment to explain. He wishes he could just explain.

"Do you want me to take the lead on this one?" He asks, adjusting the collar of his shirt as he takes his spot next to you, suit tailored to match your dress.

"No. I've got it." You reply coldly, eyes locked on the door ahead of you.

Rafe sighs, reaching out to grab your hand, as was your routine now. You can hear the introductions on stage ahead of you, the audience quieting down. At least this time, the district is mostly celebrating a local win, rather than mourning the senseless deaths of four of their children. This time, it's only three.

You take his hand, building up the energy to smile. You're happy, and you're happy together. Convincing your home district will be harder because, for the rest of your life, you have to keep up this show.

"Can we talk later?" Rafe whispered, leaning down and your skin tingled with the contact of his breath.

"Okay." You say, tone hardly audible as the doors open for you. Let the show begin.

You both smile and wave your way onto the stage, for the first time being met with cheers rather than blank stares. It's refreshing until you see Jack's parents adorning their little stage at the back. You wish they looked angrier, like they believed you were responsible. For some reason, you feel like they don't.

You don't realize people are waiting for you to speak until Rafe does for you, once again ignoring the queue cards.

"District Five, thank you for welcoming me into your community. I have never been here before, but when I say it is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, I mean it." He smiles, clearing his throat while the people clap. "I also want to say thank you, because without the sacrifice of your people, I wouldn't be standing here today. That means the world to me, more than I can ever express."

You chew on your lip, scanning across the back and finally seeing your own family. Their presence brings you a comfort you didn't know you needed so badly. "And to Y/N's family, thank you, truly, for raising your daughter into the incredible girl that she is. Without her, there is no chance I could have survived. She saved me. I can never repay you for what you have given me." You watch as your dad pulls your mom close with an arm around her shoulder, hugging her. She looks like she's going to cry, your dad does too.

You try not to laugh as your sister stands with her arms crossed, shaking her head at you, a smug smile on her face. "I told you." You read her lips, and you shake your head back at her.

"Okay, okay, thank you, Rafe." You chuckle, taking the mic from him. "I would just like to say, I am so lucky to be back, and thank you to all of you for being such amazing, supportive people my whole life. It takes a village, they say, and I know I was enough of handful for the whole village to be sick of." You shrug, pulling some laughs from the audience. "I also want to say, to Maisie, Jack, and Caylen's families, I am truly sorry for your loss, but they fought hard. I hope you are proud of who they were. And Mr and Mrs Kyle, I hope you know I never wanted to hurt Jack. I'm so sorry I ever did." You finish, taking a step back to signal that you were done.

Rafe drops your hand to gently rub your back as your eyes are once again trained on his parents. They're crying, of course, as are you, but as his mom nods at you, you feel an incredible weight lifted off your shoulders. One death you felt so personally responsible for, and their family was kind enough to forgive you. Rafe hasn't been so lucky, you've seen it first hand. As you guessed, he is sick about it. Somehow, seeing Jack's family offer you that moment of forgiveness makes him feel better, too, knowing that you won't be suffering the way he is forever.

"Remember, this is your day. Everyone is here to celebrate you, dear." Opal reminds you, gently smoothing the front of your dress back at your home, getting changed for the party. "I am so proud of you."

You smile, for some reason finding yourself fighting off tears. "Thank you, for everything. I know I wasn't always pleasant to be around."

"No one expected you to be." She assures you, planting a kiss on your cheek. "My beautiful victor..."

You look up as there's a knock on the door to your room. "Rafe is here, can we let him in?" One of your stylists assistants says through the wood and Opal answers before you get the chance.

"Yes, let him in." You give her a look and she chuckles, placing her hands on your shoulders. "He's been dying to talk to you, dear. We'll give you a few minutes, and we'll be right outside."

You sigh, nodding as the door gets pushed open. "Rafe! Dear, you look so handsome." Opal smiles at him, patting his shoulder as her and your stylist shuffle out, letting Rafe in and closing the door behind themselves.

Of course, you would be matching his outfit. By now you anticipated it, but Rafe's suits never failed to impress you. It was almost entirely white, with gold cuffs and collars, and somehow, the shoes were a gold leather as well. All matched perfectly to the accents on your dress, and you wonder if his suit alone cost more than the house you grew up in. It's likely.

"You look beautiful." He breaks the silence, smiling at you nervously.

"Thanks.. You too. Handsome. I mean, white suits you."

He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've missed you." He says, looking at you intensely to gauge your reaction. "Look, if... I did something I'm sorry. I was hoping we could talk, I want to fix things."

"If you did something." You scoff, nodding. You can't help but laugh a little bit.

"Okay, I did something. That's obvious, then. Okay." Rafe says, wracking his brain to figure out exactly where he went wrong. He has a good idea, because you ghosted him immediately after his fight with Zara and Opal in Twelve, but they had both forgiven him, understanding that he wasn't upset with them personally. "How do I fix it?"

"Oh, you want to fix it? That's rich. Truly."

"Y/N, I don't understand. You have to level with me, please." He begs, brow furrowed with upset now.

"You wouldn't want the Capitol to think we're fighting, right? You had a change of heart?" You ask rhetorically, grabbing a drink from the cart they moved into your room.

"Please, just spell it out for me. I can't go on like this, I almost lost you once. I'm not doing it again."

You sigh, the desperation in his voice forcing you to be more empathetic. "Okay, Rafe. Fine. You told them that you wanted nothing to do with this relationship. Right in front of me. I don't understand why you couldn't grasp that that hurt me, but if it wasn't clear, I really care about you."

Rafe looks down, staring at the carpet as he listens, nodding as he connects the dots. "Oh- oh! Oh, no, I didn't mean that. You have to know I didn't mean that, Y/N, come on!"

"Then why would you say it?" Your tears are threatening to return now as your voice shakes.

"Okay, I mean, I meant it, but that has nothing to do with you."

"Nothing to do with me? It has everything to do with me!"

"No, it doesn't." Rafe insists, stepping closer to you now. You can't bring yourself to back away. You've missed having him close. "I meant I don't want to be with you just so they can have a new front page couple. I meant I want to be with you because I want to be with you. Because I love you, not because they want me to love you."

You freeze, thinking over what he said. His I love you echoing in your mind like you're standing in a wind tunnel. "I... What?"

"Y/N," Rafe chuckles, reaching up now and holding your face in his large hands. "You are the smartest person I have ever met in my life, but sometimes, you are so dumb."

You can't help but giggle at that, shaking your head slightly. Rafe looks at you like you're holding his world in your hands. "Do you mean it?" You ask after a few moments.

"I've never meant anything more." You can feel his breath on your skin for the second time in one day, and you don't think you can go without it for another. You're sure your heart stops beating for a moment as he thumbs over your bottom lip, and just as you're sure you could throw up from how pretty he looks up close, you're pulling on the front of his jacket to close the gap between you.

It works, beautifully, and despite your confidence in the moment, he's very gentle. You've kissed before, sure, but you were both pumped so full of adrenaline that you couldn't stop laughing long enough to enjoy it- and that's looking past the fact that he was likely moments from death; thank god for the anti-venom the peacekeepers brought on board.

You hold tight onto his jacket, likely to keep your knees from buckling under you as his lips pass over yours, over and over again. "I love you too." You mumble into his skin, and you can feel him smiling against you.

"Kids? It's awfully quiet in there! Not to interrupt but we are on a deadline here!" Opal calls through the door, knocking on it gently with a gloved hand.

At the intrusion you practically jump apart, sighing a breath of relief when she doesn't open the door. "Okay, coming! Just one second." You reply, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice as you gather your things.

You don't know why you're desperate to avoid suspicion, but you're pulling the door open before either of you say anything else to each other. You both know you're okay, and that's what matters.

"Oh! Good, you're ready to go? Let's get moving." Opal nods at you as you pass her, cheeks burning. "Oh my, absolutely not!" She gasps, and you turn to see as Rafe walks out and she's producing a small linen from her bag and wiping off his mouth for him.

"I can do it..." Rafe mumbles, grabbing it from her to remove the rest of your lipstick from around his mouth as you both feel your faces turning red.

Unfortunately, you were only allowed time for one night at home before you moved on to the last uncovered district in your tour, District One.

"Are you excited to be home?" You ask Rafe, once again curled up in the back train car looking at the view. You've got a blanket draped over both of you, your legs falling over his lap.

"I really liked your brother. He's cool." Rafe dodges the question tactfully, and it's not lost on you that he doesn't want to talk about his home. "And your sister was hilarious."

"Yeah," You scoff, shaking your head. "I don't know who gave her Posca, but they shouldn't have. She was drunk out of her mind."

"Isn't she fifteen?"

"Sixteen actually, her birthday was last month." You laugh, dropping your head back onto the armrest behind you. "Be honest though, if you were given that opportunity at sixteen wouldn't you take it?"

Rafe shrugs, running his hand up and down your thigh. "Probably not, my dad would throw a tantrum."

"Is he strict?"

"Extremely."

"Oh. Still? I mean, one, you're eighteen- you're not a kid anymore, and two, shouldn't he just be happy you're alive? Even if that means you're drinking underage?"

"You would think." Rafe sighs, patting your leg gently. "Our reputation is his number one priority. Not his kids."

"I see." You nod softly. "That must be hard for you."

"Well, it's all I've ever known. So it's not that bad. I just worry about my sisters."

"I would too." You agree. "But, they have you. That makes all the difference."

"I try to. He wants them to volunteer, though. The only thing better for his business than one kid in the games is two, and the entertainment factor in that is valuable." Without any cameras around to record your every move, for one of the first times ever, Rafe can speak more candidly to you about it. And it is such a relief.

"That is just... so unfathomable to me." You reply. "Not to disrespect him, or anything, I mean all the respect for who he is and what he does, but I just can't imagine why he wouldn't prioritize your lives more. Especially after your mom..." You trail off here, realizing that's a door only he should open. You had seen a profile of him on the news, as a matter of fact your whole family sat down to watch it together after you got home. You don't know details of what happened, but they mentioned that she passed when he was ten. It broke your heart.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to..." You try and correct yourself, feeling him tense up under you as he stares out the window across from you.

"It's okay." Rafe insists, relaxing himself again to continue tracing patterns on your leg. "You're right. It is kind of backwards. I never got that before, but after going through what we did... I wouldn't ever want my sisters to get pushed through the same turnstile. You know?"

"Of course." You nod softly, grabbing his hand off your leg and holding it.

"Anyway, my mom never wanted us to volunteer. She stood out that way, people looked down on her because of it. Then she got sick and... yeah." Rafe continues and you squeeze his hand.

"I'm sorry, truly." You say, tone gentle.

"It happens." Rafe shrugs. "I admit, I was disappointed when Sarah didn't get picked with me. Especially with the team aspect, and I'm surprised that she didn't, but now I'm so glad she wasn't. Not to say she wouldn't have been a strong competitor. If she gets picked next year I guarantee she will win, actually." He says, smiling fondly with a shake of his head. "I've tried talking her out of volunteering, but she hasn't budged. She wants to please Ward, and I get that. I just hope she has the strength that I didn't."

"That's hard. I mean, at least I don't have to convince my sisters not to volunteer. They wouldn't do it if we begged them to, not that we ever would. Obviously." You chuckle, and Rafe does too. "Maybe... Would you mind if I talked to her? I have a way with little sisters."

"By all means." Rafe nods. "Good luck, though."

"I have a question." You say, after a moment of silence between the two of you, the train rattling over the tracks below you with an almost unsettling smoothness.

"Shoot."

"Since so many people volunteer, doesn't that take away the purpose of volunteering? Do they put all the volunteers into a bowl and draw names anyway? How do they pick?"

Rafe laughs, dropping your hand to reach out and ruffle your hair. "You will see."

It isn't long before you start pulling into One. It looks like a mini Capitol, but with more mansions and less giant buildings, it was extravagant nonetheless. Your face was practically glued to the window the whole drive in, as Rafe pointed out who lived where, and any landmarks you passed. It was fascinating, and you wished you were on speaking terms when you arrived in Five. There would have been lots to share.

You can't help but note that his family wasn't there to greet the train, at least you don't think they were- there was a crowd of strangers there waiting excitedly, along with more security to escort you and your teams away from the station.

Everyone there seemed to be a fan, particularly of Rafe's, and this was a comforting change of pace.

Rafe watches you with a fond smile as you stop, crouching down to talk to a little girl who wiggled past security and pulled on the bottom of your dress.

"This is for you, Miss Y/N." She says, so quietly you can hardly hear her over the sound of shuttering cameras and shouting in your direction.

You take the small flower from her and smell it. "It's beautiful, thank you, hun." You smile, taking it and tucking it behind your ear. "What's your name?"

"Clara."

"Clara, that's such a lovely name. Thank you for coming to say hi."

"Can I give you a hug?"

You nod, opening your arms to the little girl who practically falls into your lap, hugging you right around your neck. "When I grow up I'm going to be just like you. I'm gonna win." She says as you let her go, and your heart drops in your stomach.

Your smile falters and you nod at her a little. "Stay safe, okay?" You settle on, gently pushing her hair out of her eyes and standing up as Rafe places his hand on your shoulder, signalling it was really time to go.

You ease the girl back to her waiting parents, before standing upright and joining Rafe, waving to people as you follow him to the car, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling you're left with after that interaction.

The speech in District One was easier, similar to District Two, where people seemed happy to see you- more careless of the lives of young people they had lost. To them, it was an honour to go, even if you never returned home. That's where you first laid eyes on Rafe's sisters, and you could see immediately the difference he was telling you about.

Sarah looked much more like him, and Wheezie like their father, you could only guess that their mother had the dirty blonde hair and blue eyes she passed onto her oldest children.

At the party, it wasn't long before you saw her again, despite the large property and the sea of guests. Pretty much the moment you walked in, Ward was on the two of you with the girls in tow.

"Y/N! It is so good to meet you." He smiles, reaching out to shake your hand which you quickly oblige.

"You as well, Mr. Cameron."

"Please, call me Ward. All my friends do." He grins, nodding to the two girls with him. "These are my daughters, Sarah and Louise."

You try and introduce yourself, but you hardly get past a smile before he's ushering the group of you along. "There are loads of people who have been looking forward to meeting you. Come with me."

You just smile and nod, Rafe staring blankly at his dad as he leads the way.

You meet lots of people, and despite your average height you feel like they're looking down on you. No doubt you're seen as somewhat of a freeloader- carried through the games by Rafe's strength and training, but despite this, Ward introduces you to every last person as Rafe's girlfriend. Not that you mind, you had to assume that's what you were. He didn't seem bothered by it, so neither would you.

"I'm off to grab a drink, care to join?" Sarah offers, linking her arm with yours after what must have been the twenty-fifth new person in the last hour.

"I'd like that." You agree, giving a slight wave to Rafe who nods in approval before you're gone.

"It's a lot. I'm sorry." Sarah says, smile on her face as she guides you through the crowd.

"No, it's nice. I like meeting new people."

"No you don't." Sarah cuts you off, and you can tell it's not with bitter intentions.

"Not really, no." You cave and agree, laughing quietly.

"Rafe told me that. He said you didn't talk the first few days he knew you."

"That's not true." You laugh, correcting her quickly. "Not entirely. I was in shock, I guess."

Sarah shrugs, dropping your arm as you reach the bar. Before either of you say anything the bartender, an avox clad in the standard red uniform, places two drinks in front of you.

"Thank you." You smile, lifting the glass. They just nod and quickly move on as Sarah grabs her drink as well.

You sneak off into a somewhat quiet corner, where you can sit and talk without too many people overhearing. "Rafe speaks very highly of you, I was looking forward to meeting you." You offer as you both sit down at an empty couch.

"Now that," Sarah laughs, coughing slightly on her drink. "Is a shock."

"What?" You laugh. "No way, he loves you."

"No." Sarah shakes her head, gesturing across the room to where she's spotted her family. "He loves Wheezie. I'm just around."

You look over to where she pointed, seeing Rafe standing with his sister as they discreetly jab each other in the side while Ward is talking to yet another "important" friend. Rafe is trying to hide his smile, keep it professional, but he's cracking.

"He loves you too. Just as much." You insist. "Are you open to my theory?" You ask, looking at her as she returns her gaze to you, raising a questioning brow.

"Please." She tilts her glass toward you, urging you to continue.

"I think you guys are a lot alike. And that scares him because he doesn't want you to be like him." You say confidently, polishing off the statement with a sip of the champagne in your hand.

"That..." Sarah takes a drink before continuing. "Is not an entirely bad theory."

"Are you going to volunteer?" You ask, deciding to get right to it. Sarah doesn't seem like the type to dance around what she wants to say, she's confident in every statement she makes. She truly does remind you of Rafe when you first met him.

"Did Rafe ask you to talk me out of it?"

"No. I offered." You reply honestly. "But really I'm just curious. He does tend to be kind of biased these days."

"I see." Sarah nods, thinking on it for a moment. "Tell him I haven't decided yet."

"I have two sisters, both your age and Wheezie's, but I also have an older brother. I see myself in both of you." You explain. "I think you should do what feels right to you. Not to Rafe and me, or to Ward, or to anyone, really. But if you did ask me, I would tell you I would volunteer again somehow if it meant sparing my sisters. I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

Sarah listens to you intently. Whether her reaction shows it or not, you can tell she's really thinking about it. That's all you could ask for. "All the fame and the money it could bring your family isn't worth Wheezie's life, so why would it be worth yours?" You add.

"Would you give it up now if it meant you would have never met my brother?" She follows up with a simple question, but it stumps you.

"I don't know." You answer honestly, watching him again across the room. "But he was the only good thing to come out of it."

The air is warm in the Capitol, and you're not sure whether to attribute that to the humidity of polluted and stuffed air, or the several fire features decorating the President's property lawn where you're attending yet another party in your honour. It feels far from welcoming.

You can't bring yourself to drink, despite how tempting it is to drown out the evening in bottles of whatever alcohol they're handing out on seemingly endless trays of crystal glasses.

You're clinging to Rafe's arm, accepting compliments from people who look like they've never known any kind of trauma in their lives. The way the Capitol elite feel entitled to every detail of your life makes you nauseous.

"Thank you everyone for coming." The President's voice is booming suddenly over speakers you can't see, and everyone's attention is drawn to where he's standing on the balcony overlooking the property. "It is my honour to host our most recent victors here with us tonight, Rafe Cameron and Y/N Y/L/N!" He stops to allow applause as you smile awkwardly and nod to those around you, waiting anxiously for him to continue. You just want to get this over with.

"Your love story has been an inspiration to us all, and I'd like to raise a toast to your success and to your happiness." People around you congratulate you, and you lean your head onto Rafe's shoulder, squeezing his arm.

"President Snow would like to see you both in his office." A peacekeeper says, appearing out of nowhere and gently escorting you into the building.

"What do you think this is about?" You whisper as you reach a blocked-off hallway.

"I don't know." Rafe mumbles back. He has a good idea though, to him toast sounded more like a threat than a celebration. "Just... let me handle it. Okay?"

You just nod, stopping behind the peacekeeper at a big wooden door. He nods, gesturing that you enter.

"Have a seat." Snow offers, and Rafe pulls out your chair for you, deciding that he would stand. "Thank you for coming."

"We were in the area." Rafe replies impatiently. "What can we do for you?"

"I wanted to discuss our agreement one more time, since clearly, the two of you were left a little confused." Snow says, resting his hands on the desk that sits between you.

"The money was a show of good faith." Rafe replies, resting his hand on your shoulder.

"To you, maybe, but to them, it is a sign that you are on their side." The President corrects. "You are not one of them. Not anymore. If they believe that you are, that they have people with power on their side, the uprisings will continue and the death toll will be catastrophic. I have a feeling that both Districts One and Five will not recover."

You bite your tongue, keeping your eyes locked on the rose sitting in front of you on the desk. "I think there is no use in giving the people of Panem false hope, because you do not have the power you think you do. You are not invincible. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." You nod softly, anxious to leave.

"Go enjoy the party. After all, it's all for you." Snow dismisses you, and neither of you are in a position to argue.

Leaving the Capitol again was a relief, especially with the promise that a train would be made available to either of you as you wished to travel exclusively between your home Districts. Not that you would particularly want to travel anywhere else, anyway.

Rafe had a preference for coming to visit you, despite your home being much smaller than his. And much more crowded, but he didn't mind. Having a home full of sounds felt much more welcoming to him, even if he was only there for a weekend here and there. He had sisters to look after as well.

In all those months, he came down twice a month, and you looked forward to it every time. Everything was so normal, besides the interviews you did every so often, just to show everyone how happy you were thanks to the "generosity" of the Capitol, and that's a story you're more than pleased to stick with if it means keeping your families safe.

"It isn't far, right? Because I'm too out of shape for a long hike." Rafe jokes, letting you pull him by the hand through a wooded area not far from your house.

"Oh please, you could do it in your sleep." You laugh, shaking your head. "But no, if you must spoil the surprise, it's not far."

Rafe follows you silently, smiling as he watches you beat your way through a slightly overgrown path. The image flickers in his mind of you in your windbreaker, hair tied back around itself to keep it away from your eyes as you run through the bushes in the arena.

"Here, look." You interrupt his thought process with a jolt, the sunlight blinding him as you push past a final branch and hold it out of his way. "Behold, the pride and joy of District Five." You smile, gesturing out over the cliffside.

"Oh, wow."

"Isn't it pretty?" You ask, dropping his hand to walk closer to the edge overlooking the large dam. "All the electricity in all of Panem comes from here."

"I didn't expect it to be so... scenic." Rafe says, joining you closer to the edge as you sit down.

"Yeah, it's pretty." You agree, crossing your legs. "My dad worked in there for years, he just retired. My brother works there now."

"I can imagine." Rafe says, tearing his eyes away from the depth of the ravine in front of him to look at you. You look so at home here, he can tell by how you're hunched over so casually tossing pebbles off the cliff that must be a thousand feet deep. Even then, you're not scared. "Do you come here a lot?"

"Is that a pickup line?" You giggle, leaning back on your palms as you look over at him.

"Well, no, but would it work?" He smirks, placing his hand over yours as he matches your position.

"Only because it's you." You laugh, shaking your head.

"That was the correct answer." Rafe chuckles, looking back down at the giant damn that's filtering water through, powering his family's mansion back home. He thinks of all the hours your dad put in, sometimes sixteen-hour days he recalls him sharing, that he was working in the power plant to keep the lights on at Rafe's kitchen table where he sat with his dad and his sisters rarely uttering a word. The same hours your brother is working now.

"How do you feel about this mentor thing?" You ask out of nowhere. "We start soon."

"I don't know. It'll be weird to be working against you." Rafe replies.

"Don't think of it like that. Besides, what was it you told me, that you have a whole team of them? You probably can just sit back and watch them work." You say, trying to raise his spirits a bit. "That gives us more time to visit."

"I feel like 'visit' is a strong word." Rafe laughs. "Hopefully it'll be more than that." He says, moving over to wrap his arm tightly around your waist, kissing your cheek.

"That would be nice." You agree with a sigh. "I don't know, I just don't know what kind of advice to give. What, find someone you trust? I think we just got lucky."

"You'll be the best mentor." Rafe insists. "I wish I had you."

"I wish we hadn't needed one. I don't want to see kids come through year after year and watch them die. I wish I could make it stop, it all seems so pointless."

"It's about control. They'll never give that up." Rafe shakes his head. "So don't think for a second it's your fault."

"I know... It's just so complicated."

"I'm glad it brought me to you, though."

You smile, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Hey!" You're startled by a voice behind you, both of you standing up quickly. "You have to come back." Your brother says, chest heaving from his exertion of running all the way up the hillside.

Rafe relaxes from where he placed himself in front of you at the sound, letting you step in front of him. "What happened?" You ask, seeing the look on his face.

"There's been an announcement." He answers, laboured breathing starting to return to normal. "About the games."

The two of you follow him in silence all the way back, anxiety in both of you spiking after your brother wouldn't answer any more questions. When you walk into the house, you're met with a paused TV, your parents on the couch, and your sister with tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes. "What happened?" You ask again, hoping to get some answers.

Rafe pulls you close to himself after shutting the front door, leading you into the living room. "Here, um, have a seat, kids." Your mom says, hardly audible as you sit down.

She wipes her eyes as your dad presses play on the television, and it's a rewound clip of the news. Rafe wraps a shaky arm around you on the couch as Caesar Flickerman starts speaking.

"We have a unique announcement today regarding the upcoming, highly anticipated, Seventy-Sixth annual Hunger Games." He starts, and you get tunnel vision as you stare at the screen. "This is a twist no one saw coming on the heels of last year's Quarter-Quell, but President Snow has decided there will be a permanent change in the rules. From now on, any victor remaining under the age of eighteen will once again be eligible for the reaping."

taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @chenslucy, @hxnnah-397, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @saccharinesammie, @ietss, @maybankslover @redhead1180, @suzyheartsrafe, @wpdailyminimeta, @aegons-bitch, @rafegirly, @lovelyxtommy, @dee127, @r1vrsefx, @gillybear17, @flonkertn, @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @thelomlisrafecameron

#rafe cameron #obx fanfic #outer banks #rafe obx #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #obx #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x you

267 notes · View notes

d-criss-news · 2 months ago

Text

Darren Criss embraces technology and his mixed heritage in his Broadway premiere

Late last month, I spoke with Darren Criss for his upcoming Broadway premiere, Maybe Happy Ending, in which he plays a robot (a Helperbot to be specific) named Oliver who’s been deemed obsolete by technological standards. Another Helperbot, Claire, asks to borrow his charger, and thus begins a unique friendship between the two.

Maybe Happy Ending was written and produced in both Korean and English and has had performances all over the world. This production features Asian American creatives both on stage and behind the scenes. Criss himself identifies as half-Filipino on his mother’s side, and has said his feelings on his identity have evolved over the years. In 2018, he was quoted in Vulture saying that he did not identify as Asian American. In 2020, he would later shift his perspective after playing a half-Filipino character in Ryan Murphy’s Hollywood, telling People:

“It’s a tricky cocktail in America ... Anyone who is biracial can attest to this: No matter how much or how little they look like their respective mix, it’s a constant work in progress … I’ve always been proud of my heritage, of being Filipino. Just because people don’t see it, doesn’t make it any less real to me.”

I got the chance to speak with Criss not just about identity, but about his career at large, how he relates to the character of Oliver, and what audiences will take from Maybe Happy Ending.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

Bri Ng Schwartz: As a biracial person with Asian identity, how does it feel to be working on a show that’s been produced and written in both Korean and American? Darren Criss: This show isn’t categorically an Asian show. It is very much a universal human’s show, but it happens to celebrate and represent a large degree of Asian-ness. Anytime you can show up for your cultural identity, that’s always a very exciting thing. It’s very exciting that the vast majority of people working on the show, on stage and off, are of Asian American mix and descent. The Asian experience is not a singular experience. It’s a very large breadth of backgrounds, so it’s been fun for all of us to bring our own experiences and stories to the table.

BNS: I saw you about 10 years ago at the Belasco when you were starring as Hedwig in Hedwig and the Angry Inch. DC: Oh boy. This will be a little different.

BNS: Yeah, definitely different. As you return to the Belasco for Maybe Happy Ending, how do you think you’ve evolved as a performer in the last 10 years? DC: I hopefully have evolved as a person. If I’m the same person that was 10 years ago, then we have a serious problem. I’m just still trying to learn, still trying to connect as many dots as I can. Hopefully I never know the answer to that.

BNS: We are forever learning as humans. DC: Exactly.

BNS: I spoke to your former on-screen father, Jon Jon Briones, a couple of months ago. DC: He’s the best, and he was part of this production! This show has been around in many iterations for a long time, and he actually was part of a reading several years ago. We find ourselves connected yet again, me and Jon Jon. He’s awesome. He’s the best.

BNS: Do you take any advice or inspiration from people like Jon Jon or other seasoned Broadway vets in your work? DC: There are these goalposts that artists may think are the be-all and end-all of what makes a successful career. Jon Jon’s consistency and longevity are the goalposts. He’s one of these guys, if I mention his name, half of the room knows him or has worked with him. There are a lot of guys like Jon Jon who just are constantly a part of things. And that’s the goal. Success in devoting yourself long form to the craft, which he has done in spades.

BNS: In Maybe Happy Ending you play Oliver, a Helperbot 3. Do you think there are any parallels between you and how Oliver perceives the world? DC: I am endlessly curious and endlessly trying to download and learn as much as I can from the world around me, whether consciously or unconsciously. I happen to be a human being, and Oliver is not.

I’m still getting under the skin of this guy, of this robot. I’m finding a lot of parallels as far as the desire to please. I always say I’m in the service industry. I service ideas and emotions and people. That is my vocation. My programming.

BNS: Do you think that audiences are going to walk away from this show feeling differently about their technology? DC: Technology becomes more human in the way we treat it. When people put away their phones, they get sad. They’re like an appendage. We’ve already started to ascribe emotional connectivity to our non-human components. People will walk away with perhaps a more emotional experience with the human components they have in their life.

The battery life that our devices have are a microcosm metaphor for our own battery life, our own shelf life, and our own energy. The finite amount of time that we have, and really coming to peace with the idea that we are a transient technology ourselves, considering that, and hopefully, making sure that your battery life is spent on the right things, I think is the thing I hope people walk away with this show.

On top of hopefully singing the songs, because they’re beautiful.

BNS: They really are. Thank you so much for taking the time today. On behalf of mixed theater kids everywhere, thank you. I don’t think I would be who I am without having you to look up to. DC: Thank you for letting me be a part of it.

#darren criss #joy sauce #maybe happy ending #maybe happy ending bway #press #oct 2024

39 notes · View notes

raccoon-eyed-rebel · 9 days ago

Text

Part 32

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 31 🟣 Part 33

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August, Sherlock, Charles, Melot and Napoleon

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: ongoing vampire shenanigans, Melot's ongoing identity crisis, purple (or at the very least lavender) prose, angst, mentions of: child marriage, cheating, (internalized) homophobia, religious trauma, abuse, SA. Mentions of grey sweatpants, inappropriate anger at the inventor of jeans, Awkward Virgin trope, blood, biting, bruising, praise kink, the untimely demise of a shirt, awkward groping, (awkward everything), handjob, blowjob, premature-ish ejaculation, wasting water by taking a shower that later proves to have been absolutely fucking useless, Frotting/rubbing/dry humping (not sure what to call this, tbh. A butt-job?), rimming (eating ass, analingus, pick your fave), light D/s dynamic, light brat behavior, hair pulling, more praise (possibly slight feminisation? Depending on how youd define that?), masturbation, deepthroating, throatfucking, oral creampie, cumswapping/cumkissing, elements of subspace + subdrop, aftercare.

Word count: 14.004 (Yes. 14k. You read that correctly.)

A/N: Well, well, well, what here we have? It started with this sweet ask from @geralts-yenn, and... what can I say? Things got out of hand? (Understatement.)

It quickly became clear to me that there was a lot more to unpack than I had originally counted on, and then the boys turned out to be... well, dirty little whores. So...

I considered making this a bonus-chapter because this is written from Melot's POV, but since it slots into the timeline, I decided against that. I will, however be changing the tense and POV (from past tense to present, and from 2nd person to 1st person POV) from here on out, because over time I've simply come to prefer writing that way. I'll also be writing more chapters from the boys' perspectives—I'm working on one from Leon's POV that isn't too far off in the future (storyline-wise... actual real-life time-wise, one can never know.)

Also: I'm literally begging everyone to come into my comments (or DMs, or asks) to talk about these boys because... Well, I just love them so much. I already did, but it's literally so much worse now, lol.

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red

@sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

@plaidcat4815 @wa-ni @lovemusicpart2 @lizzystuffsthings @manysecrets2020

@sarcasmoverlordxo @mysweetlittledesire

I’m afraid to open my eyes, knowing that if I do, I’ll be staring right back into the reflection of my own soul.

There’s no hiding from him—not that I want to. At least, I think I don’t.

I sit still, counting the seconds as they tick away on the clock in the living room. I’m the only one who can hear it from anywhere in the house—anywhere on the property, even. If I try hard enough, that is.

The sound has been my anchor for centuries. Sometimes, it feels more familiar to me than the beating of my own heart. Unsurprisingly, I might add. How could it not be, when everything about me exists for the sole purpose of looking outward.

Oftentimes, my visions have prevented me from gaining a more intimate knowledge of myself, and they continue to do so to this day. It’s been this way throughout my entire existence.

Fourteen hundred years. Fourteen centuries.

My senses are honed to perfection. Beyond it, even—although many would argue the impossibility of the proposition, but it’s exactly what a millennium and a half will do to you.

I know that better than anyone. How could anyone know better? For all we know, I might very well be the oldest vampire on the planet.

The scoff I attempt to choke back finds its way to freedom as a nigh imperceptible faltering in my otherwise steady breathing.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he whispers softly. I feel his fingertips creep closer to mine before they actually do, yet I am startled by the sensation of him touching me.

I resist the urge to pull my hand back, just as I’ve been resisting the urge to flee the room and never return. A part of me, I am most unwilling to admit, even wants to attack.

He wouldn’t stand a chance.

He’d be dead before he even realized I’d moved.

Oh, to become something you’ve been taught to fear—and to think this is hardly my first battle of the sort. I’d give up the hope that they ever get easier, if I hadn’t known for a fact they don’t for the longest time.

‘You like boys.’

These words have haunted my dreams for the past two days. Left me alone for nary a second since the moment they fell freely and innocently from Mike’s beautiful lips.

Spoken with no ill intent, they wrapped themselves around every inch of every branch of my consciousness, constricting it more and more with every last breath I took, their truth so immediately undeniable that I was forced to admit to it.

And that means there is no way back for me now.

When Mike told me that I’d have time for an identity crisis later, I don’t think he realized just how right he was, and I can’t blame him for his ignorance. I don’t doubt for a second that it was completely unintentional.

As much as he hates it when we say it, he is just a baby, born into a fairly secular household in the sixties, but more importantly; involved in all kinds of generally more accepting subcultures from a relatively young age…

He’s had his struggles, of course. But as strange as it is to say, because one has to admit they were significant, they are irrelevant at this current time.

On the other side, we have… well, me.

Forced into a political marriage at fourteen in early medieval Cornwall, to a girl even younger than I was, our wedding night consisting of nothing but a tear-filled pact made between two terrified children under the cover of darkness, to forego the consummation of our marriage.

Instilled in me, a fierce loyalty and the staunch belief that a man lay with no one but his own wife, and a wife with no other person than her husband, I devoted myself to her as best I could, given our circumstances.

That there was no love between us mattered not, for we had been united before God.

Not unlike today, however, inappropriately crude and explicit conversations with my peers had made me far more knowledgeable on the subject of reproduction than I otherwise would have been, given my lacking experience.

For years, I slept by her side, riddled with guilt over our failure to fulfil our marital duties toward one another, praying every waking minute for the ability to be a better husband.

I shed my tears over her betrayal in private as I prepared to welcome a child into my life—a child I knew couldn’t possibly be mine.

Every day of my life, I am grateful for the existence of specialized historical trauma psychologists: They were of indescribable and immeasurable value when I was struggling to unite the unpleasant aspects of my upbringing and ‘early’ non-human life—the first thousand years, give or take—with the modern world I somehow found myself in rather more suddenly than I had ever expected.

The past certainly has a way of sneaking up on you, but I wouldn’t dream of underestimating the present in that particular respect.

Alas, as helpful as my therapists have been, their efforts feel wasted in this moment, because Mike dragged me onto a new road of self-discovery that appears to contain several unexpected challenges.

Challenges I am afraid of.

Challenges I am ashamed of.

As mentioned before: for the second time in my fourteen hundred years, I have become something I was taught to fear, and despite my convictions that I had overcome my prejudices, that I had moved past this darkness of fear and hatred, it seems to be the case that nothing could be further from the truth.

A shocking revelation. Truly.

I find no solace in the fact that I was never taught to hate, though it is true. One is almost never directly taught to hate, for the simple reason that it is far easier to teach fear than hatred.

But fear breeds hatred.

I learned to fear the sin, which led me to hate the sinner, and there is no excuse for that.

This, I have always known.

Over time—more time than I care to admit—my hatred disappeared, and I took pride in that, for I had shown growth, and an ability to learn and adapt.

I had evolved.

How upsetting it is, then, to be forced to come to the realization that somewhere along the line, I seem to have come to the conclusion that to cease fearing for others’ condemnation would suffice in terms of accepting them.

In other words: If they want to go to hell, let them!

And now that it’s me, I find that I suffer still from that very same fear of a god I have long since stopped believing in.

The line between truly knowing that something isn’t sinful, and simply not caring when others sin, is remarkably thin.

And I am standing right on top of it.

“It wouldn’t help,” Mike whispers, just as my desire to ask him what I want surges, threatening to wash me away.

Two lonely tears escape my still closed eyes, allowing me to focus on their path down my cheeks as they fight the resistance my skin provides.

I thank them silently.

“Why not?” There is no point in trying to keep the defeat from shining through in my voice.

“Because you want it all,” he replies. I expect to hear pity in his voice, and its absence surprises me nearly as much as his answer. No matter how much I want to ask him, my voice refuses to lend me its cooperation.

Not that it matters. After all, Mike knows.

“There is no ‘one desire’, Melot,” he continues, making me shiver as he drags a single finger down the back of my hand. “In the past thirty seconds alone, you’ve cycled through ‘fight, flight, freeze’ more times than I can count. You want to jump me—either to kiss me or kill me. You want to run, hide, talk, think, cry, scream, punch something—not me, please. You want answers, and to desperately not need answers because you want there to not be a question that needs answering to begin with.”

“I never wanted to kill you,” I mumble, the characteristic heat of embarrassment creeping up to my cheeks in a staggering tempo.

Mike chuckles. I’m not proud of what the sound does to me, but good Lord it feels amazing. “That’s the thing, Melmel,” he muses quietly, “the fact that I felt it, means it was a genuine desire. Granted, it didn’t last long, but it was there. And I get it.”

“I was never going—” More tears tread in their predecessors’ footsteps, their heat blending in nicely with the scorching glow of embarrassment that plagues my skin.

“I know,” he reassures me. “You have a whole rational brain I don’t have access to—that’s Marshall’s territory, not mine. My point is: you can’t ‘sorta’ want something. Okay, you can, in the sense that there’s a scale to how much you want something—a range from ‘want’ to ‘need’—but there’s no such thing as a half-desire. A desire is a desire.”

I wince at the implication of his words as guilt washes over me like a tidal wave, while Mike continues: “Your tiny little—but genuine—want to brutally murder me was immediately overshadowed by a very strong need for me to be… not dead.”

“Was there anything useful in the entire list?” I’m surprised by my ability to squeeze out an entire sentence, if I’m being honest.

Mike chuckles again, and my whole body feels like it’s made of carbonated liquid. “The desire to call your therapist is probably a good one,”—he pauses for a moment, letting out a cheeky chuckle—“and I would selfishly vote in favor of any of the many more eh… carnal ones.”

I scoff. He speaks in jest, at least partially, and I refuse to dignify his nonsense with a response, so I move on. “Which is the most, eh… potent?”

“That’s a great way to phrase it, yeah,” Mike confirms. “And it’s definitely your overwhelming—and permanent, by the way—desire to be held by someone.”

I finally open my eyes, staring at Mike wide-eyed in nothing short of pure horror. How disappointing that the floor doesn’t melt away from under me right this second to spare me the mortification…

“Get your priorities straight, Melmel,” Mike admonishes me, a sweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You should be way more embarrassed about wanting to kill me than wanting to snuggle up to someone.” He scooches closer to me, quickly adjusting the mountain of pillows as he moves, and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Especially since we share that particular need.”

We sit in silence for a while, Mikey’s head on my shoulder, his arm around me. It triggers my visions, which isn’t at all surprising. In them, I feel none of the shame and guilt I do now—or did, moments ago—which is very reassuring, but as much as I would like to luxuriate in that feeling after my meltdown, Mikey’s much stronger reaction forces me to let them pass, acknowledged but without much further investigation.

He struggles to keep his fingers still, and I am facing similar difficulties in strangling whatever sound I feel I can’t afford to make freely.

“What do you need from me?” I practically have to force the words out of my mouth. “In this… courtship?”

Mike laughs. “As far as definitions go, that’s fair, but do you know a twenty-first-century word?”

“To describe you?” I elbow him in the ribs and roll my eyes. “I know several, and I doubt you’d be happy with any of them.”

“Jerk,” he huffs.

“That was one of them, yes.” I struggle not to laugh when Mike pouts and nudges me, failing miserably, and before I know it, I’m on my back with him hovering over me. My gaze is pulled towards his lips through no fault of my own. In my fourteen hundred years, I have never known anyone who scowls as adorably as Mikey does, and every corner of my thoughts occupied by the sight of his bottom lip sticking out slightly.

Completely involuntarily, my eyes follow the contours of that lip, and my mind gravitates towards images of us. Together.

I—

I bite back the moan that threatens to escape, and fight to regain control of my teeth. “We should talk first,” I manage, my words punctuated by labored breaths.

Mike nods, dropping onto his side next to me and propping himself up on one elbow. “It’s really simple,” he says plainly. Clearly, the past thirty seconds have been less taxing on his self-restraint than they were on mine… “We can take this as slowly as you need, obviously. But I need you to know the difference between what you’re ready for now, and what you know you’ll be ready for in the future.”

I nod. That’s the easy part of the equation.

Unfortunately, Mike may be a clown at times, but he wasn’t born yesterday. “And I need you to stick with the now-boundaries.”

I nod again, much less sure of myself this time, but I promise him to give it my very best effort.

“Of course, I’ll help. If necessary,” he continues. “But I refuse to rely on my gift to guard your limits. I need to know you feel comfortable, and safe, and confident enough to communicate your needs, okay?”

His concern for my safety and wellbeing is almost enough to bring me to tears all over again. If I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that time does, in fact, not heal all wounds, and although I have come a long way, I cannot deny the lasting—possibly permanent—damage inflicted upon me by the coldest, darkest days of my past.

The times without love.

The times when I had no one but myself to care about me.

I sob my agreement to his terms, rather than say it. The sound of my breaking voice draws his brows together in a pitiful frown.

He bites his lower lip as he contemplates his next words, and I struggle to keep my head clear as his lips once again draw my attention away from the conversation, while the sorrow in his expression has me teetering on the edge of panic.

His expression hardens as he breathes in deeply before looking at me very directly. His eyes are cold, and my heart rate quickens at the sight.

“And,” he says softly but with unmistakable determination, “I’m not doing this behind closed doors.” He looks down, fidgeting with the duvet covers as he continues: “I’m not saying you have to come out to the entire world tomorrow—or explicitly to anyone at all, unless you want to, of course—”

“I wouldn’t even know what to come out as,” I admit almost reluctantly. At this point, I haven’t even begun to think about labels and definitions and whatnot.

“I mean… If we’re going to be dating, then one label that definitely applies is ‘the guy who’s dating Mikey’,” he says matter-of-factly. I have to admit he has a point. “I’m kinda big on PDA—I promise I won’t suck your face off in public, but hugs, or a kiss here and there… Like, I’m not going to let some guy who can’t even hold my hand at the movies, dick me down when we get home.”

He laughs at my expression, and I can’t blame him. I, myself, imagine it to be quite the sight; wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land while my entire vocabulary seems to have vacated the premises…

“I’m sorry,” he snickers, “I didn’t mean to scare you. My point is: If you can’t love me in public, you don’t get to love me in private, that’s all.”

“Mikey…” I hesitate, attempting at the same time to swallow away the lump in my throat. It doesn’t work. “I promise—swear, even—that I will try, but I might need some time.”

“Progress, not perfection, Melmel,” Mike says as he leans forward to rest his forehead against mine for a moment. “I just want you to make an effort, okay?”

I nod furiously. Of course, I never truly expected him to toss me aside because I can’t adjust to all of this in a matter of days, but it’s a relief, nonetheless.

Now that my fears have been taken away, more visions come to me. The doom scenarios are entirely of my own making—I learned to tell the difference several centuries ago, but I can’t say that that knowledge has been in any way facilitative to my ability to disregard them.

However, I cannot deny that it is comforting that the majority of them are overwhelmingly positive, setting my body alight with a warm, soothing glow.

It makes me calm.

Happy.

It also makes me…

“For someone who’s struggling to come to terms with all of this,”—Mike’s voice is strained, the sound of it more of a moan than regular speech—“you are incredibly horny.”

My lips tremble as his hand cups the side of my face, his thumb gently trailing over my cheekbone.

I have to swallow before I can even speak. “I’m coming off a fourteen-hundred-year dry spell, Mikey.”

Mike’s eyes go wide with shock, perhaps even terror. “Fourt— w-what?” He looks adorable, his mouth slightly open, brows drawn together in disbelief. “Two days ago… That wasn’t your first kiss, right?”

I chuckle, but not from the heart. “It was certainly the first one I was a willing participant in,” I admit bitterly. The realization bites, digging its filthy, razor-sharp claws deep into my soul. “Not that the collection of instances of the other sort is by any means impressive.”

“Every last one of those is one too many, Melot,” Mike sighs.

I can’t stand to see the pity in his eyes, so I close mine again, focusing on his scent instead.

Every member of my coven—past or present—has an odor so unique to their person that I would happily wager that I’d be able to identify them from a mile away.

With everyone else, smell certainly serves as quite the handy tool when it comes to ascertaining their intentions—hostility, for instance, reveals itself quite readily by means of a distinct and exceptionally foul sour note—or their species—vampires in this day and age always smell faintly of blood and garlic, and however cliché one might deem it, werewolves reek perpetually of wet dog.

And then there’s my own family, blood and garlic aside.

I may have known Sherlock the longest, but I know Charles the best, which is why I can say with absolute confidence that I’d recognize the dark, brooding combination of leather and smoke in my sleep. It’s luxurious and alluring, its complex sophistication undeniable, but at the same time, it’s cold, distant and uninviting. It used to be different, but what little remains of the welcoming seduction of the past, is now dull and faded.

Sherlock, on the other hand—although every bit as strong and refined—smells warm, approachable and comforting, with a very pronounced overtone of sweet vanilla—which Mike, should I ever decide to discuss this particular subject with him, would probably find very typical and likely even funny. At some point in my life, I developed the strange habit of sitting outside Sherlock’s bedroom door when I miss him, just so his scent can comfort me—he has a way of showing up whenever I do.

August and Leon share the dark, bold and spicy edge to their scents. They’re matched for sensual promiscuity, but Leon leans further into the direction of exotic rebelliousness and playful deviance. August smells… calmer. More grounded.

Marshall smells remarkably similar to Sherlock, in a way. Only he trades the sweetness for something crisper and fresher, reminiscent of pine and fresh herbs. It feels almost strangely grounded and familiar, with a quiet strength and weight to it that borders on intimidating.

And then there’s Mike. It should surprise no one that he’s the odd one out, and although I wouldn’t describe the scent as that of bubblegum and jellybeans, I wouldn’t necessarily not describe it as such. It’s a rather untidy fragrance, that has an energetic flamboyance to its almost cacophonous complexity. Touches of woods and herbs ground the otherwise discordant bouquet of lush, tropical fruits and crisp, fresh citrus, combined with a selection of floral aromas that expresses something of a delicate… femininity. It’s youthful, vibrant, playful and mischievous, and more importantly, it’s the best damned thing I’ve ever had the pleasure to smell.

Unthinkingly, I pull Mike closer, the tip of my nose tracing a gentle path up the side of his neck as I inhale deeply, savoring not only the scent, but also his warmth, pulse, and the feeling of his skin against mine as it transitions from the smoothness down by his shoulder to the scratchy stubble of the five o’ clock shadow on his jaw I’m embarrassed to admit I find quite attractive.

My senses are so thoroughly occupied with the attempt to soak up every crumb of these new, delightful experiences that I completely forget to care even the slightest bit about the quiet moan that slips past my lips.

Mike whines impatiently in reply, and when he suddenly moves, I struggle to keep up with the innumerable sensations that wash over me in rapid succession.

His breath on my ear, the delectable feeling of his weight on top of me, the tangling of our legs, his hand at the back of my neck, and its long, slender fingers traveling over my scalp… But much more pressing—and more annoying, I might add—is my acute and absolutely insufferable awareness of the suddenly too thick, coarse and rigid denim of my jeans as it moves over my skin in all the wrong ways while we adjust our position on the bed.

Not to mention that these godforsaken trousers, which fit me perfectly and comfortably less than half an hour ago, suddenly seem too tight—an experience that wouldn’t be unique to my person in the least, if Mike wasn’t very likely completely unbothered by such atrocities sensations due to the fact that he is wearing sweatpants.

Sweatpants which, much to my dismay, contribute to my own discomfort far more than I care to admit.

That is not to say Mike is unaffected by this situation. In fact, the evidence heavily favors the contrary, and the fact that I can feel his pulse… there, in combination with the thought that that means he can probably feel mine in approximately the same location, keeps distracting me from mentally drafting the letter of complaint I wish I had sent to Levi Strauss & Co. back in the 1870s.

I have never wanted out of a pair of trousers—or any other type of garment, for that matter—this badly in my entire existence. And for all the wrong reasons, too, for crying out loud!

A displeased whimper hits my ear, and by the time it dawns on me that I was the one who made it because Mikey suddenly disappeared, an unidentifiable pile of dark grey fabric lands on my stomach.

The person who put it there is standing next to the bed, towering over me with his arms folded across his chest. It would have been intimidating, if not for the hint of a smile that peeks through the stern mask on his face.

Mike points to the bathroom. “They’re sweatpants,” he says impatiently, “go put them on. Now. Please.”

My brain cycles through countless motives and explanations, but I’m so hopelessly behind on processing the events of the past minute, that it comes up completely empty.

I must look at least half as confused as I feel, because Mike can no longer fight back his smile. “Hey, normally I’d tell you to just take the jeans off, but I don’t want us to get ahead of ourselves,” he chuckles. “If this is what it takes to keep you from violently longing to invent time travel so you can smack Jacob W. Davis and Levi Strauss over the head with a comically large wooden mallet, then…”

He makes a series of vague, impatient gestures at me, the sweatpants and in the general direction of the bathroom, all accompanied by an equally impatient and exquisitely adorable whine.

When I laugh, after deciding against telling him how cute he looks, Mike frowns, and his eyes narrow. “Mel, please,” he whines, “I really, really, really want to kiss you.”

Nervous as that makes me, I can’t deny that it’s exactly what I want too, and despite my legs feeling exceptionally uncooperative, I manage to make it to the bathroom in one piece.

I lean my shoulders against the wall, steadying myself as I attempt to regain control over myself, my chest heaving with every new breath.

The cold of the tile creeps through the fabric of my shirt with ease, grounding me.

Soothing me.

My thoughts, which are normally fairly organized, are a mess—an un-unravelable heap of pure chaos.

It’s anarchy!

Mike somehow manages to match the energy of an eight-week-old puppy attempting to herd sheep, with the exact same, very predictable and equally—if not more so—undesirable result.

And I’m the sheep.

I clamp my teeth down on my bottom lip with force until I taste blood, but the visions keep coming.

My fingers—are they mine? If they were, one would assume I would know how to get them to fucking work, correct? When I put these jeans on this morning, this wasn’t the world’s most challenging button, so why won’t it open, for God’s sake?

I swear under my breath, screwing my eyes shut as if to squeeze the last bit of focus out of my brain that way. I must, however, come to the unfortunate conclusion that I am not a tube of toothpaste.

“You’re impossible.” Mike’s voice is hoarse, his chest moves rapidly in time with his equally erratic breathing, and his long fingers close effortlessly around my wrists with punishing force. “Get these hands out of the damn way and let me help you with that.”

Apparently, his wish is my command. Or perhaps, his command is my command. Either way, my hands are out of his way in a flash.

Barely a second later, the button and zipper of this treacherous denim contraption are no longer an obstacle, and I struggle to breathe as Mike leans his forehead against mine, dipping his fingertips tentatively into the now-loosened waistband of my trousers.

He holds me firmly in place as he steps closer, grinding his hips into mine. Out of reflex, I bite down on my lip again, piercing my skin, which lures a soft whine from my throat.

Before I can do anything, Mike passes his tongue over the wound before sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, and I seem to have suddenly forgotten how to breathe altogether.

“Now,” Mike says—‘growls’ would be a more apt description, perhaps, “take these off, put the sweatpants on—or don’t. Strip completely bare-ass naked for all I care, but get in my damn bed, please.”

Hearing my own desperate need echoed in his voice makes my heart stutter—the cruel cold or Mikey’s sudden absence makes me restless.

I rid myself of my jeans as quickly as I can, and as I exchange them for the much more comfortable sweatpants, I can’t resist the urge to squeeze my throbbing erection through the fabric, desperately attempting to fight the thought of how much I need that hand to be his instead of mine.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Mikey snarls, his voice close to my ear and the scorching heat of his body comforting me once again. “I should drag you to bed by your balls, you little tease. Why are you out here wanting all these things, when we can be doing them in there?”

I want to say something, but even if my voice were cooperating, my vocabulary certainly wouldn’t be. In the end, nothing but a pathetic whine escapes me, making Mike chuckle.

He hooks two fingers in the waistband of the sweatpants, no doubt with the intention to tug me along towards the bed, but one catches behind the band of my underwear as well, putting more of me on display than I anticipated. I know Mike well enough to expect him to take a peek—and the urgency with which he does so immediately—and I find myself thoroughly enjoying the look of utter desperation and pure carnal need on his face as he fails to fight off a crooked smile, dragging his tongue along his upper lip.

I struggle to identify the feeling that washes over me, wringing out my insides as Mike’s playful smile widens, his gaze still locked on my groin. There is a strange sense of pride to it. At the same time, waves of anticipation struggle for power against nervousness.

The longer I look at his face, the stronger the anticipation becomes. He’s cute, with his mischievous smile, fangs out as he fights off the ragged corners of the desires he knows would likely push me a tad too far at this time.

But Mike can think of six things either simultaneously or in awe-inspiringly quick succession.

“Why does it happen? The fangs?” he asks quietly, amusement poorly concealed in his tone.

My laughter rings involuntarily, the sound bouncing off the tiles, echoing in my own mind as it once again struggles to keep up with everything that’s happening. “You’ve clearly never lived in a large coven,” I chuckle. “One so powerful that hiding your nature—and teeth—becomes completely unnecessary. Our natural instinct is to have them out. Even after centuries, one must have his wits about him in order to control them, and I don’t know about yours, but mine are halfway to Argentina by now.”

Mike’s grin widens as he takes a step back, finally guiding me back to his bedroom.

When the back of my legs meet the edge of the bed, his eyes darken. “I really want to do some dirty things to you, Melmel,” he whispers. The high-pitched whine that meets my ear must be mine, and unthinkingly I chase the pathetic sound away with a scornful chuckle which, most unfortunately, is followed by a sharp gasp as Mike pulls me closer by my hips until my body is flush against his. “Will you let me?”

The art of speech eludes me still, so I nod.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Mike says as he gently places a hand on either side of my face.

To be overcome with desire does not mean what I thought it did until now in the slightest. As soon as Mike’s lips touch mine, true desperate need comes crashing down on me, drowning out everything else.

His mouth is soft, but firm. His hands gentle as they move from my face, down my chest and stomach, to the sides of my hips, until they reach the back of my thighs. He picks me up effortlessly, of course, wrapping my legs around him before laying me down in the middle of the mattress.

Our moans effortlessly overshadow everything else that attempts to occupy my thoughts, only leaving room to experience pleasure. It’s all-consuming.

Powerful.

Cathartic, even.

Mike’s tongue licks gently at the seam of my lips, which part as if by magic to grant him entrance.

His enthusiasm is infectious, and I greedily reciprocate until…

“Fuck!” Mike pulls back, still laughing when he sticks out his tongue. It’s bleeding. “I forgot you have spare teeth.”

“I’m sorry.” I can’t bear to look at him as guilt washes over me, drowning out all the wonderful feelings from before.

“Don’t be,” he says softly, giving me a reassuring peck on the tip of my nose. “You can poke as many holes in me as you want, this just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

He presses his lips to mine again, this time with significantly more restraint—to start with, that is. Every time he rolls his hips, grinding them into mine, he loses a bit of that control.

I could say the same does not apply to me, but it would be such a blatant lie that it would be laughable at best.

When he bites my lip, he is careful not to break the skin, but the force is still enough to bruise me.

Whatever mark he leaves on me, with very few exceptions, will be gone before we’re even done here. Why does that strike me as such a tragedy?

The last remnants of Mikey’s gentle touch have disappeared now, as his fingertips dig into my shoulders, my hips, my thighs, with brutal force. It would certainly be enough to cause serious harm to someone less sturdy than either of us…

“God, I haven’t done this with another vampire in years,” Mike groans. The sound, deep, dark and dripping with lust, vibrates throughout my entire body.

I know he’s been with nymphs, shifters—were- or otherwise—and demons, and I don’t doubt that there have been many more rendezvous with many more species I haven’t the faintest clue about, but that knowledge proves to be of surprisingly little impact on this moment. “Tell me if I’m too rough with you, Mel. Please.”

Not at all, I wish to scream. I’ll take everything he’s willing to give me and more. So much more.

But I can’t seem to find my voice. Instead, I slide my hands into his shirt on a whim, dragging my nails down his back, reveling in the sense of pride and sensuality I feel as he arches to my… well, ‘touch’ would be quite the understatement, I suppose.

“Guess not, then,” he says with a devious grin as he grabs the hem of the t-shirt I just decided to ignore and pulls it over his head.

I’ve seen him without a shirt, of course. Goodness, I’ve seen him damn near naked on several occasions, but this time…

As he sits there, straddling my thighs, towering over me, my eyes wander down, taking in his broad shoulders, chest and abs. He’s lean, toned, but I wouldn’t describe him as particularly muscular. His pale skin is smooth all the way down to his navel, where my attention is captured by the thin line of dark hair that leads… down.

My hands make their way up his thighs until they rest on his hips, and without realizing, I speak. “You are so beautiful.”

I realize my error instantly, an overpowering sense of confusion surging through me as I watch Mike’s face light up.

“Yeah?” he asks excitedly as I continue my attempt to grasp why he sounds so pleased. My confusion must be apparent, because Mike laughs sweetly. “It’s okay, baby, you can call me beautiful all day, every day. Can I see if you’re pretty too?”

It clicks as soon as the word ‘pretty’ leaves his mouth, and I am suddenly overcome with the fear that he won’t see me that way while Mike fusses with the top button of my shirt.

He groans out of frustration. “Do you have any emotional attachment to this thing?” he growls almost aggressively as he grabs me by the collar of my shirt. I shake my head, once again unable to speak. “Good.”

The fabric tears almost too easily, and several buttons—four, to be exact—find their way onto the floor.

A long, desperate whine meets my ear as Mike rakes his fingers over my chest, down to my stomach, where he traces the faint line of hair with a single finger, all the way down to the waistband of my trousers, while I dig my fingers into his hips with more force than I intended. It makes Mike’s cock twitch, causing it to bump against my thumb, which lures a sharp gasp from me.

Mike reacts to it and the expression that has appeared on my face in the meantime without my knowledge, and certainly without my consent.

“Okay,” he taunts, “my pretty boy wants to play in the big leagues then?”

Despite my nerves, I find myself nodding in reply to his question, attempting once again to swallow the tightness in my throat away.

Mike kisses me, softly but enthusiastically—and most importantly: repeatedly—as he lies down next to me. Heat rises to my cheeks as he flashes me that goofy smile of his.

I was always under the impression that I found that smile particularly annoying. I guess I was wrong.

The one hand that is still on his hip relentlessly attempts to capture my attention, begging me to acknowledge its proximity to the part of Mike that currently has my imagination spinning completely out of control, but I can’t allow myself to comply with its demands just yet. Lord knows I’ll be swiftly rid of any ability to speak, which would be… unfortunate, to say the least.

Not that that particular ability isn’t greatly impaired to begin with, but we needn’t tempt fate further, I would say.

“I’ll be happy to tell you anything you want to know, Melot,” Mike whispers softly as he moves closer to me. It’s the strange fish-on-dry-land-esque performance attached to it that makes me laugh—and much louder than I had intended, too. In fact, I had no intention to laugh at all…

I snap my mouth shut and look away. Surely, my cheeks must be so red they are in fact aglow right now, mustn’t they?

Mike groans loudly, which twists the uncomfortable knot in my stomach, greatly worsening the unwelcome tightness I was already feeling.

To say I am in no way prepared for his words, would be an understatement.

“Mel, dude, Melmel, babe, Melly, my good sir,” he sighs, “where were you when they sent out the memo that this”—he gestures wildly at the both of us—“all of this, like… sex, is supposed to be fun?”

“Well, I—” Just hearing him describe what we’re doing as ‘sex’ brings forward a host of emotions I can either not identify or desperately wish I couldn’t, and it certainly helps my nerves in no imaginable way.

“Like, babygirl, I get it,” he continues, as I try to prevent having to invent a new shade of red to describe the color my cheeks will turn after this one, “you’re nervous. You’ve never done this. You’ve been told not to do this, with… well, pretty much anyone but definitely not another dude—which I’m sure will come back to bite you in that sweet little butt of yours, and we’ll deal with that fall-out together. But if we’re doing this, I need you to lighten up, okay?”

“But… How?” In my entire existence, I have never struggled to speak two simple words the way I did just now.

“For starters, there are two people here who I’m going to need you to not take too seriously,” he says matter-of-factly. “The first one is me, which is already true for… most scenarios outside of this one, I’d say. And the second one is you. You’re allowed to laugh, okay?”

The way he nips at the tip of my nose makes it impossible not to laugh. “Good boy,” Mike muses as I struggle to figure out why it feels so good to hear him say those words.

Without thinking about it, mostly for fear of discouraging myself, I wrap my free arm around him, pulling him tightly against me as I kiss him.

The added pressure of my arm against the small of his back is not enough to satisfy my need, so I boldly and unthinkingly lower my hand until it cups half of Mike’s backside.

Despite my lacking intentions to lose control of myself like this, I find myself feverishly grasping him, pulling him even closer as I dig my fingers into the flesh of his rear.

It’s surprisingly soft, yet surprisingly firm, and I find myself surprisingly eager to explore it further—the whole situation would best be described as, well… surprising, really, and Mike’s ardent whimpering tells me that he is not at all inclined to put an end to my endeavors.

Due to my sudden preoccupation with Mikey’s lovely behind, I am almost robbed of awareness of the fantastic experience of Mike, gently but greedily sliding his hands into my pants as he gently sucks my bottom lip into his mouth.

My grip around his waist slacks as he pulls his face back, still holding my lip firmly between his teeth, and he cocks an eyebrow at me, giving me the courage to mimic his movements.

For a moment, I am surprised to find that Mike is not wearing underwear, and then I remember who I’m in bed with. I’m not saying I should have expected this, but to pretend it’s in any way uncharacteristic, would be a lie.

His skin is smooth and warm, and the salacious moan he lets out catches in his throat, where it morphs into a gasp as my lips seek out his neck.

The urge to bite is strong, and I already know he wouldn’t mind, so…

“Fuck, Mel,” he moans sweetly as I bite down, effortlessly piercing his skin again and again, until his neck and shoulders are littered with marks.

Mike reaches behind his back, grabbing my wrist in order to drag my hand away from his ass, and towards the front of his sweatpants, where his erection strains against the fabric.

He presses my palm against the sizeable bulge while he begs me to bite him again, and I find myself more than happy to oblige.

A chuckle rolls off my tongue as soon as my teeth connect with his skin, and I softly squeeze his twitching cock, which draws the sweetest whimpers from Mike’s gorgeous lips.

“Mel, please,” he whispers, barely managing to squeeze the words out in between soft swearing and labored breaths as he puts his hand over mine and slowly slides it down his hip, into the front of his sweatpants. “I… I need you to…”

My voice is barely more than a breath as I stammer my concerns about my nerves, lack of experience and the fact that I haven’t a clue what to do.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mikey whispers in reply, “just touch me. Please.”

Heat rises to my cheeks again as I desperately attempt to resist the urge to pull my hand back and flee the room. “I-I really don’t know what… how…”

Mike lets out a whine that is a mix between impatience and complete and utter frustration. “What do you mean you don’t know? You have one of these, what do you do with that one?”

Lying to him now would probably not be in my best interest, so I ignore the ever-increasing temperature of my face when I tell him: “I, eh… I don’t really, ehh…”

“Mas-tur-bate,” Mike says with a smile. “Jack off. Jerk off. Beat your meat. Tickle your pickle. Flog your log. I can come up with dozens of these, but I think you got the point. But, like… ever?”

I shrug, fighting the resistance of Mike’s hand against my shoulder as I try to hide my face from him. “Not never, but…”

“We can stop, if you want?” Mike says carefully, even though we both know that’s the very last thing I desire right now. “Or take a little step back?”

I shake my head surprisingly decisively. “I want to try,” I whisper. “I want to make you feel good.”

Mike leans closer to me, bringing his lips up to my ear. “Try again,” he says, the amusement in his voice clear as day, because once again he knows as well as I do that I’m not voicing my true desire.

In truth, I’m burning with violent need, and I am utterly bewildered that it’s even possible to feel nervous enough to overshadow that feeling. Yet here we are…

A low growl escapes me completely involuntarily. “I want to hear you moan and feel you squirm in my arms,” I snarl with more vigor than I originally intended. “And I want it to be because of me.”

His sweet moan, right in my ear, makes me tingle all over, and I barely manage to choke back a whimper of my own.

“Mel, please,” Mikey pleads with me again, “stop overthinking and just grab my d—”

He’s forced to end his sentence with a strangled, high-pitched noise that makes me chuckle as I wrap my fingers around his length.

He presses his forehead against mine as I cup the side of his face with my free hand, trailing my thumb lightly over his cheekbone.

The softest whimper stumbles past his slightly parted lips, and I gladly give in to the urge to touch them as well, savoring the feeling of Mikey’s hot breath against my fingertip.

When his tongue darts out, I take my own lip between my teeth, biting down as he sensually sucks my thumb into his mouth. I admire his confidence as he stares straight into my eyes—into my soul—as he does so.

Slowly, he rolls his hips, thrusting carefully into my hand.

His jaw tightens, and every sound he makes, escapes from behind gritted teeth—the way he’s grinding them almost makes more noise than he does, which I have to admit I find quite bothersome.

“Why are you holding back?” I ask quietly, as I attempt to silence the part of my mind that tells me I must be doing something wrong.

“Because I still can,” he admits reluctantly.

So I am doing s—

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” he says, smiling devilishly as he shimmies out of his sweatpants a bit further. “But truth be told, it’s missing something, eh…”

I patiently wait for him to continue, listening to the whiny noises he makes in protest as I don’t do him the courtesy of pausing the apparently good-but-missing-something handjob I was giving him. Mike is adorable when he gets flustered, and I am more than happy to be responsible for the rosy color on his cheeks.

“Fine,” he grumbles, giving in to his desires at last. “Top drawer of the nightstand. There’s a bottle, you really can’t miss it.”

I venture to retrieve the bottle. It’s… A chuckle escapes without warning as I read the label. “Mikey, why do you own cotton candy flavored lubricant?”

“Because it doesn’t come in jelly bean flavor,” Mike says casually before bringing my attention back to the—pardon me—task at hand. “Don’t be stingy with the stuff, I like it wet.”

Rather than simply not being quite sure what to do—or how much lubricant is an appropriate amount, since I’ve never used anything like it before—I am suddenly overcome with anxiety over the fact that I am now forced to look what I’m doing.

Slowly, I lower my gaze, taking in all of Mike’s body I can along the way. I barely notice how my fangs pierce my lip again when I bite down as my eyes reach their destination.

Mike snatches the bottle from my hand and kindly helps me out by pouring some of the liquid in my hand. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I bring my hand to my mouth, quickly dipping my tongue in the small pool of fluid in my palm.

Unsurprisingly, it’s extremely sweet.

Mike spends this time glaring at me, impatiently squirming and making his displeasure known through a series of whimpers, not stopping until I wrap my hand around his cock again.

As soon as I do, a serene smile spreads across his face, and he sighs while I proceed to coat his member with the slippery substance on my hand.

“Better?” I ask him.

He nods, resting his forehead against mine again. “Fuck yes.”

Apparently, the only thing Mike thinks will stop him from becoming excessively loud now, is crushing his mouth to mine and kissing me like his life depends on it.

His hips move erratically as he thrusts almost frantically into my hand while moans, grunts and desperate whimpers stumble from his mouth into mine.

After some time, I feel his hand close around mine, guiding my grip and the rhythm of my strokes while the fingers of his other hand dig into my back nearly hard enough to draw blood.

He swears, softly at first, but becoming louder as he loses more and more of his restraint.

Even with a vision providing me with advance knowledge of what is going to happen—which is technically so predictable that I should have been able to come up with it myself—I am unprepared for the moment his orgasm arrives.

In hindsight, aiming might have been a good idea, but I honestly couldn’t think of a better place for his release than my stomach.

“Sorry for the mess,” Mike pants against my lips. I can feel the lazy smile on his face in the way his mouth moves against my skin. “Can I help you clean that up?”

The implication in the devilish question sends a jolt of electricity down my spine, and before I can answer, Mike has pressed his lips to my neck, marking the beginning of a slow, teasing descent downward with a playful bite.

As he moves down my body, he turns me onto my back, leaving me helplessly mesmerized by the sight of this gorgeous man making his way down my chest, licking and sucking at my skin every chance he gets.

The feeling is absolutely unmatched by anything I have ever felt before in my life, and I can’t hold back any of the sounds that well up in my throat of their own volition.

The enthusiasm with which Mike licks his own semen off my abdomen is almost awe inspiring, and I watch him closely, barely aware of the fact that my mouth hangs open, which I’m sure must make me look like a complete and utter fool.

When he finishes his task, he shoots a glance up at me in which lies a burning question, and without thinking, I nod in reply.

Eager hands drag down my trousers and pants until my cock springs free, and for a moment, panic takes hold of me. With some effort, I remember the look on Mike’s face when he was ‘accidentally’—if one chooses to believe it was an accident, which I can’t bring myself to do—presented with an opportunity to look at my erection.

The image manages to calm me down fairly effectively.

My reaction when Mike carefully drags the tip of his tongue along the full length of my cock is admittedly quite embarrassing, but I try not to dwell on that thought, electing instead to enjoy the incredible new sensations brought to me by Mike’s mouth.

“So sensitive,” he muses quietly, trailing a teasing finger lightly down the same trajectory as his tongue. “And so pretty.”

I barely manage to resist the urge to cry out in frustration as Mike abandons my member and instead kisses my stomach, hips and thighs, putting his lips absolutely everywhere but where I so desperately want them.

His hands tease me: playful, eager fingers travel up and down my sides with the lightest touch, threatening to drive me completely beside myself with lustful yearning.

“Please!” The word barely makes it out, my voice so strangled I momentarily wonder if Mike even understood me—his devious chuckle confirming that he did.

In the pit of my stomach, pressure simmers. A pressure I probably should have familiarized myself with a lot more over the past fourteen centuries, but it’s recognizable enough as is.

There is no doubt in my mind that Mikey would succeed in bringing me to orgasm without laying another finger—or any other part of his body—directly on my cock.

Shame heats up my cheeks once again as I am forced to admit that, quite frankly, I’m about to burst.

And it is precisely this moment in which Mike decides that the best course of action is to swallow my whole length down to the root.

It's the hideously arrogant raising of that miserable eyebrow of his that ends up dragging me over the edge, and without any warning, I spill my seed into his mouth.

If dying of embarrassment was a possibility, I would have done it dozens, if not hundreds of times over the course of my existence, but none of those instances could hold a candle to what I’m feeling in this moment.

I could positively die of shame.

Mike, however, seems to be completely unfazed by the circumstances. It’s typical, of course, but it’s also infuriating.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, smoothing a hand over my hair. “Don’t feel bad. Come on…”

The next moment, he’s next to the bed, holding out a hand.

“Shower time, Melmel,” he muses happily.

I follow him in silence. Even as he strips me of the pants I put back on before making my way over to the bathroom, or when he ushers me into the shower stall, or when he sweetly and gently caresses me all over to rinse off the remnants of our relations, I remain quiet.

Until we are back in the room, and Mike dives under the covers, leaving me standing there…

“I… Mike, I think I should g—”

“Yeah, that is, like, so not happening,” Mike says, rushing towards me with alarming speed. “You are staying, and that’s an order. Besides, we’re just getting to my favorite part.”

“Didn’t we just do your favorite part?” I ask, my voice thick with bewilderment.

“Ask our girl,” Mike chuckles. “I’m a little cuddle monster.”

He takes both of my hands in his and gently attempts to pull me along. “Back to bed, now.”

I can’t seem to move, other than the involuntary shiver that travels through my body when Mike suddenly appears behind me, pressing his smiling lips to my neck and grabbing my behind. “Are you going to listen to me, or do I have to spank my pretty boy?”

I’m not proud of the way his words bring my cock back to life, but I can’t bring myself to be embarrassed about it, either, even when Mike chuckles devilishly in my ear.

“Was it ‘pretty boy’ or ‘spank’ that’s making this happen?” he asks as he gently palms my stiffening cock.

“Both,” I admit surprisingly willingly. “And ‘my’ might have had something to do with it as well.”

“Do you want to go another round?” Mike asks carefully, no doubt to attempt to hide the heady edge to his voice, as if his growing desire isn’t literally poking me in the back right now.

“I thought you wanted to cuddle,” I whisper, gritting my teeth so as not to moan loudly as my erection pushes more and more firmly against Mike’s hand. Thank God, he’s keeping it still, otherwise I would be completely lost.

“I do,” he whines. “But look what you did to me!” He grinds his cock against my ass. It feels heavenly, as does the feeling of Mike’s breath on my neck as he chuckles when my cock twitches against his palm.

This time, I allow him to push me towards the bed again, and when we reach it, I don’t protest when he bends me over—at first.

Panic briefly washes over me as I think about what he might do to me, but I trust him. I know he would never attempt anything beyond my boundaries, so I relax again, leaning into his touch as his fingers close around my length again.

He strokes me in time with the movement of his hips against my ass as he thrusts slowly between my cheeks, pushing his cock down with his other hand.

When Mike disappears, I whine at the loss, and I try to right myself to see where he’s gone, but his hand, firmly pressing down on the small of my back, stops me. The drawer of the bedside table opens and closes, and the top of a bottle clicks. Moments later, Mikey’s hand, now slick with lubricant, closes around my cock again.

His other hand—now also quite sticky—hooks around my thigh, pulling me back a few steps to give him more space to work with, and I moan in delight as I feel my ass hit his hips again.

Mike gently shushes me, squeezing my ass in a strangely reassuring way when the feeling of his hands running down between my cheeks has me worried for a second. “Don’t worry,” he says calmly. “Just wanted a little less friction.”

I must admit, it feels even better this way. For him, too, if the higher speed of his thrusts and increasing volume of his moans are any indication.

When Mike plants a firm kiss on my spine, between my shoulder blades, I can’t fight back a loud moan as I relish the feeling of his weight on top of me. At the same time, I am terribly disappointed when he stops moving his hips.

“I want to try something, okay?” Mike says. His hand stops moving too, and much to my displeasure, it disappears altogether barely a second later. The only redeeming aspect to this unwelcome behavior, is the trail of sloppy, wet kisses Mike leaves down my back.

I resist the urge to swat him in the head when he sinks his teeth into my rear, and I heal the wound immediately in protest.

Mike, in all his silly, playful Mike-ness, retaliates by making another mark, which I treat in the same manner.

We go back and forth like that for a minute, until Mike growls in frustration. “You’re so fucking lucky you’re cute, Melmel.”

I can hear the pout in his voice, and a grin appears on my face as I spread my legs for Mike without thinking when he moves to grab my cock again, this time by reaching between my legs.

His arm hooks around my hips, holding me in place, and I barely get a second to wonder why.

Mike was more than right to hold me down, because when the tip of his warm, wet tongue touches the tight ring of muscle—

“Mike!” I hiss angrily while I squirm against his solid grasp. That… place has been an exit only for fourteen hundred years, and if he thinks—

A soft kiss on my bottom eases my surging anger. “Put down the pitchfork,” Mike muses, “I just want to touch you. Well… eat you. Give it an honest chance, please? If you don’t like it, you don’t like it, but I think you should try it.”

Mike certainly has a way of inciting one’s curiosity… I take a deep breath before nodding decisively, accompanying the gesture—which Mike can’t see—with an affirmative hum.

Mike continues to stroke me while his tongue gently laps at my puckered hole.

When Mike made his plea, I never pictured a scenario in which I would enjoy this, but to my shame, I must admit that the sensation is quite pleasant. Perhaps a bit more than ‘quite’.

Alright, it feels nothing short of absolutely heavenly! That doesn’t mean I am quite ready to admit that, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, Mike seems to get plenty of confirmation from the way my hips involuntarily move in time with his tongue, rather than his hand.

In fact, after a while, he abandons stroking my cock altogether, using both hands to spread my ass cheeks so he can gain better access to my hole.

I occupy my own hands by pressing a pillow firmly against my face, while crying a continues stream of moans and the occasional expletive into it, and when Mike tentatively passes a fingertip over the tight ring of muscle, I find myself begging him to continue.

“Is this something you want now, or something you know you’ll want in the future?” His tone lets me know there is only one answer he will accept, and it’s not the one I think I want it to be now.

I desperately cry out into the pillow, wanting to voice my protest but finding no words, and I turn onto my back rather dramatically while Mike skillfully dodges my legs.

He remains where he is, raising himself up on his knees so he can lay his head on my hip. The sweet smile on his face as he looks up at me annoys me greatly, and I put the pillow over my face again and scream, before glaring down at him as I prop myself up on my elbows.

“If you’re not going to do to me what you know I think I want you to do to me but don’t yet, then at the very least do to me what we both know I’m incredibly amenable to you doing to me,” I growl.

Mike chuckles. “That almost sounds like you’re asking me to blow you,” he teases.

On a whim, I sit up. With the fingers of one hand twisted into his curls, I pull his head off my thigh.

Mike’s swallows audibly, his eyes wide as he stares up at me. My jaw tightens as he bites his lip, and I cock an eyebrow at him, silently asking my question.

He responds by nodding furiously, and when I attempt to pull my hand back, he grabs my wrist.

With unwavering enthusiasm, he pours some more lubricant on me before getting to work, coating my whole length using both of his hands.

It feels divine, and without thinking I ball my hands into fists to prevent myself from swearing.

Mike lets out a long, sweet moan, leaning into my touch as I unintentionally pull his hair, the noise making me all the more disinclined to relax my grip.

He looks up at me, that godforsaken eyebrow taunting me, and the rest of his face guilty of the exact same thing. He’s clearly testing my patience—and to my surprise, I find that I quite like that.

Stil, no matter how much I enjoy his defiance, my annoyance is real and intense enough to be a leading factor in my behavior.

“You know what I want,” I groan, putting pressure on the back of Mikey’s head, urging his mouth closer to its desired location.

His eyes narrow, and his lips pull into an insufferable smirk as he continues to work my length with both hands, and I attempt to keep my composure while the urge to smack that grin off his face surges to previously undiscovered heights.

Mike’s reaction has me staring at him in shock, his yearnful moan dying down as soon as he sees my face, and his expression morphing into something completely different that has his ears and cheeks turning red in a staggering tempo. It’s…

“So sweet,” I mutter as I loosen my grip on his hair and run my fingers over his scalp in circles. “Be good for me, my love. Let me feel that beautiful mouth.”

When he looks up at me again after pressing a sweet, brief kiss to the underside of my tip, the color on his cheeks has deepened.

I am unsure of the reasons behind the effect it has on me, and right now, I could frankly not care even a hair less.

He’s still challenging me, but the shy approach makes it endearing rather than infuriating. I can’t even convince myself fully that he’s putting on an act: He’s never been particularly good at hiding his true feelings.

Before we started this—all of it, from the very first kiss onward—I never would have imagined that I’d see myself in control of any of this. I pictured myself, completely at the mercy of Mike and his fickle whims. No vision I had could have prepared me for this.

For this sense of agency, and of… dominance.

For the overwhelming sense of pride, and the much more intense yearning for this sweet, eager boy between my knees than I had ever imagined possible.

“Sweet, precious Mikey,” I sigh as he delivers the smallest lick to the tip of my cock. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I watch him squirm beneath me. My best guess is that I’m not the only one who enjoys being called sweet things.

Where I find the words, and how on Earth I suddenly manage to not only use my voice but also seem to accurately remember fourteen centuries worth of English—though it would be remiss not to acknowledge that I never really caught on to the last two centuries or so—is beyond me, but the fact of the matter is that I do.

Words of encouragement flow freely from my lips as I gently nudge Mike’s head forward. “Wrap those pretty lips around me, sweetheart. I know you want to,” I say softly. “I’ll be so proud of you.” Mike whines, staring up at me with big, innocent eyes. “Be a good boy for me, Mikey. You’d make me so happy.”

Strangely, though the only thing missing from my words are the ones that would make this an outright plea, I don’t feel like I’m begging whatsoever, nor do I feel like I’m somehow pressuring Mike into doing something he doesn’t want to do.

Due to my lacking experience, I should be lacking every shred of confidence I feel, shouldn’t I? I shouldn’t feel so at peace with this, I—

My doubts die a swift, magnificent death the second Mike wraps his lips around my throbbing erection, and I soon find myself completely bewitched by the sight of him as he works more of my length into his mouth.

He’s dropped one hand into his own lap, and the other soon moves to my thigh, where his fingers dig into my flesh every time he goes down. With every stroke, he takes me deeper, until I’m fully seated in his mouth.

When his throat tightens around me briefly, it startles me, and I involuntarily move my hips, forcing Mike to withdraw, sputtering and struggling to breathe.

I, in turn, gasp for air when he spits on my cock. There’s something wildly erotic to it, and to the thin thread of saliva that runs from my tip to the center of his bottom lip.

“Keep going, beautiful,” I gasp. In no way am I too proud to admit that I’m positively aching to feel his lips around me again. “You’re doing so well. You’re such a good boy.”

Mike whimpers, briefly moving the hand with which he’s pleasuring himself quicker, before leaning forward again.

Emboldened by his enthusiasm, I put light pressure on the back of his head and gently thrust my hips forward.

His eyes open wide, and he moans desperately. The vibration created by the sound feels heavenly around my cock, and I push my hips forward again, luring another moan from Mike’s throat.

“Do you… like that?” I ask hesitantly. Surely, it’s better to be safe than sorry in these situations?

Mike hums a vigorous confirmation, his brows drawing together in a deep frown when I ask him—superfluously, apparently—if he wants me to stop.

On instinct, I move closer to the edge of the bed, tightening my grip on Mike’s hair as I thrust forward again—and again… and again.

Soon, there are tears in Mikey’s eyes, and instead of being overwhelmed by guilt, I simply can’t stop thinking about how beautiful he looks—and how incredibly impressed I am with his achievements.

Now, I am hardly under the impression that I have a particularly intimidating manhood where size is concerned, but I would happily place myself somewhat above average without adding any inches for vanity, and on top of that, I’m hardly being as gentle with Mike as I probably should be, thus, I consider my amazement justified.

Mike announces his approaching climax through a series of delectable moans and an increase in the pace at which he sucks me off, his movements stopping exactly when I’m teetering on the edge of orgasm myself.

He pulls back, until the tip of my cock rests on his tongue, and with a few strokes, he seals the deal.

I bite down on my lip while I watch as several thick ropes of my release coat his tongue, the visual so wildly arousing that I briefly worry I will never find anything else even remotely enticing ever again.

“Show me.” I mouth the words, unable to find my voice, as I trail my thumb lightly along Mike’s bottom lip. Audible or not, my words seem to light a devious little fire under him, and after heeding my request, he promptly raises himself up, supporting himself with his hands on my thighs.

My breath catches in my throat, and I swallow hard as Mike leans forward, pressing his lips to mine with vigor.

I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to be disgusted with myself and my behavior later, but right now I want nothing more than to taste myself on Mike’s tongue—I get slightly more than I bargained for when I open my mouth and feel my thick salty seed flow from Mike’s mouth into mine.

At first, I can’t bring myself to swallow, resisting the urge to spit until an idea takes root in my brain.

I can see the apology on Mike’s lips, but before he speaks, I put him on his back on the mattress, taking a moment to rake my eyes over his chest and abs.

Without wasting any time, I lick the evidence of his orgasm off his stomach, and straddle his hips, bringing my nose to his.

There’s no need for further provocation: Mike opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue so I can deliver on my silent promise.

This should feel disgusting. By pretty much any standard, but most of all mine—or rather; the ones that have been pounded into me over the years, either figuratively or, if I was particularly unfortunate, literally.

Instead, a serenity that borders on a sense of heavenly bliss washes over me while Mike and I go back and forth spitting a combination of our semen and saliva into each other’s mouths…

I—

Mike chuckles and falls back to the mattress, taking a moment to catch his breath before pulling me down on top of him. “If I came in while you were trying to watch a movie and I randomly spit a fat load of cum in your mouth, you probably wouldn’t appreciate that,” he says. His words seem so out of place that at first, I struggle to wrap my head around them, until I realize I must have looked… I couldn’t tell you how I looked, exactly, but my face must have expressed my thoughts in a way that prompted Mikey to launch into an explanation. “Welcome to your first ‘it seemed like a good idea at the time’-moment. It won’t be the last.”

“That doesn’t dispute the accusation that it was, in fact, disgusting. At all,” I mutter against the skin of his neck, hiding my scorching—and therefore probably beet-red—face from him.

Mike sits up again, wrapping his arms around my waist as he does, pulling me even closer. “Melmel… Sex is kinda disgusting. And embarrassing.” He punctuates his words with small kisses to my shoulder and neck. “And sticky, and sweaty, and messy.”

“You might want to put a positive spin on this,” I grumble. “Soon.”

“The point is,” he replies, pulling my head off his shoulder and holding it in both hands so that I’m forced to look at him. “When you’re with the right people, none of that matters.”

One look into his eyes, and I know…

“Well, I’m glad I’m with the right people then,” I murmur, leaning in for another kiss.

When Mike breaks away, he suggests we take another shower, and I’m hardly inclined to decline the offer. He wasn’t exactly lying about ‘sticky’ and ‘sweaty’ in his list of less-than-ideal side effects to sexual relations.

This time, Mike is the one that goes strangely quiet while we clean ourselves—and, both notably and regrettably, not each other—up.

“Mikey?” I ask carefully. “What’s wrong?”

My heart breaks when Mike drops to the floor, suddenly sobbing uncontrollably, crawling back into the corner and sitting there with his arms locked around his knees, vigorously shaking his head in reply to my question.

“Mike,” I say sternly as my attempts to pluck him off the floor fail miserably. I do, however, manage to pull him off the wall just far enough that I can sit down behind him, and when I lock my legs around him, he knows he won’t be going anywhere, so he gives in to my touch. “You will talk to me.”

When he moves again, I let him, both knowing that he might be a fool, but not such a big one that he expects to be able to run from me, and knowing—vision-wise—he won’t try. He simply wants to turn the shower head our way because he’s cold.

He sits down in my lap, and I wrap my arms tightly around him, waiting patiently until he feels ready to speak about what’s going on with him.

Another deep, shaky breath, and he starts talking: “This just took a turn… And you’re so new to all of this, I never thought… I should have… But I couldn’t have known, so… And everything was going well, and it was all good, and I was teasing you and so stoked to be showing you all these new, wonderful things and… And then things got turned around, somehow… and suddenly you were… you… And I… I…”

I let him cry for a while, just holding him, tucking him tightly against my chest as I smooth my hands over his back and sides, repeating the phrase ‘shh, it’s okay’ more times than I care to admit because I simply can’t come up with anything else.

After a while, his breathing steadies, and the sobbing comes to an end. “I’m sorry,” he says, clearing his throat. “Not in a ‘I have something to apologize for’ kind of way, but more like… ‘I feel bad for dumping this on you all of a sudden’ kind of way.”

“That’s alright,” I reply truthfully. “All I want is to take care of you and to make you feel better.”

Mike laughs through the last of his tears. “That’s great,” he says, “because you’re going to have to.”

“Just tell me how,” I say. “And, if at all possible, try to explain why?”

“Right,” Mike says on a slightly embarrassed chuckle. “First off, I shouldn’t have let this happen. Like…” He throws his head back and lets out a frustrated cry. “Okay. During that blowjob just now—I don’t blame you if you didn’t even notice, but…”

“I remember suddenly feeling far more… in charge?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

Mike nods almost enthusiastically. “I really wouldn’t have blamed you—you looked pretty overstimulated—but, damn, I’m glad you noticed. Eh, long story short, you ended up Domming me—dominating, I mean, like… the kinky kind. And you were really good at it, too! So no worries about that, okay? But I should have stopped you, because I know I’m quick to slip into subspace—I’ll explain that later—and it was stupid… well, a little naïve, I guess, of me to think it wouldn’t happen, and…” He takes a moment to catch his breath, and I rub his back while he does.

“A little longer,” I say calmly when he tries to continue his story. My visions are exceptionally helpful in this type of situation, and I don’t want Mike to start hyperventilating.

“Thanks,” he says sincerely after a few more deep breaths. “The… I just… I freaked out because I need someone to take care of me—you, to be specific—but I should be the one taking care of you after your first time… Things just got a little messy.”

“Is there any reason we can’t be taking care of each other?” I ask, taking a moment to think about my own needs at this time. The very first one is for Mikey to feel better. “I think that, after this shower, I would like to watch a movie in bed, and stay very, very close to you.”

“Yeah,” Mike sighs happily. “That works for me.”

When we finish our shower, I dry myself off quickly, only to find Mike still standing next to me, soaking wet, when I’m done. He hesitantly holds his towel out to me.

“Please take care of me,” he mumbles, his voice small and soft. He’s avoiding eye contact, biting his lip and constantly shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“I never want you to be afraid to ask me that, Mike,” I say slowly, enunciating every word carefully as I take the towel from him.

There’s something wonderful about this. I dry every part of Mike’s gorgeous body with extreme care. When I first resist the urge to press my lips to his skin, Mike laughs.

“You can still kiss me, Melot,” he muses. “Actually, I’d really like it if you did.”

At that moment, things finally connect in my head. “You need to feel loved.”

“Yeah,” Mike says, nodding slowly. “Put bluntly, I need to know you see me as more than the piece of meat you throatfucked back there.”

Before I can respond, he continues: “I know you don’t see me that way! I mean, maybe you did when you—”

“I was mostly very impressed with your skills,” I admit reluctantly. It’s my turn to blush once again. At least we’re both suffering that terrible affliction this time.

“Thanks,” he says with a smile. “Decades of practice.”

“I think you have put in more hours than most people your age,” I joke before nipping at the tip of his nose.

Mike glares at me. “Well, apparently I have put in more hours than some people your age, so…”

“Hey!” I stick my tongue out at him. “Stop bullying me, or I will—”

“Whatever you say next,” Mike interjects quickly, “never threaten to skip aftercare. Just… little PSA, I guess.”

“Oh, I was simply going to suggest we put on an episode of Downton Abbey and I point out all the historical inaccuracies,” I say plainly.

Mike shudders. “That would actually be worse…”

Mere seconds after we finally get settled in bed, there’s a knock on the door—of course, a few seconds after that, there’s an actual knock on the door. One that isn’t a figment of my… Well, I suppose both ‘figment’ and ‘imagination’ would be inaccurate.

Still, Mike and I look at each other, neither of us in any way inclined to actually see whose unfortunate timing we’re dealing with.

“Melot, can I see you for a second?” It’s Marshall.

Even though I’m wearing pants, I scramble to find the nearest pair of sweatpants and put them on—after Mike gives it a quick inspection. Quick thinking on his part, I must admit.

When I open the door, I open it wide enough to speak to Marshall, but not so wide that he can look into the room.

It makes him chuckle. “I’ve seen him in much worse states than simply naked,” he muses, but doesn’t otherwise protest the minimal state of ajar-ness of the door. “August and I thought you could use this.” He holds out a tray. One side is loaded with snacks—cheese, fruit, crackers… the lack of jellybeans might disappoint Mike—while the other side holds two bottles of water, glasses, and a pitcher of strawberry lemonade—Mike’s favorite. “Keep him warm and hydrated. And see if he wants to eat something. He’ll say he’s not hungry, but… Take care of him, okay?”

“I will,” I promise as I let go of the door to take the tray from Marshall. As soon as I do, someone—must be Mike—yanks the door open. He narrowly misses me as he practically jumps into Marshall’s arms.

“Thank you,” Mike mutters as Marshall hugs him tight to his chest, indeed not caring that Mike is still very much completely nude. “I love you.”

“I know,” Marshall replies with a somber smile. “I love you too. Always have, always will. Go be with your… boyfriend?”

“Official status TBD,” Mike chuckles as he releases Marshall from his grasp. “But at the very least I think we can say we’re hooking up.”

“Well, whatever the case, take care of each other. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He disappears before either of us can say another word, so we take the food inside and close the door behind us again, making sure to lock it as well.

“What happened between you two?” I ask carefully as we get comfortable under the covers.

Mike shrugs. “Nothing happened. It’s like… We’re as close as we’ve always been, just in a different way. We could never be in a monogamous relationship with each other, that would be weird, for some reason, but with Sweetcheeks in the mix, some old stuff has been coming back, and we’re figuring that out. Not in a very proactive way, I have to admit.” He picks a cube of cheese off the plate.

“So I might have to share you with another person, then?” I ask, jokingly poking at his ribs. The thought should devastate me. Shred my insides like a swarm of angry wasps is wreaking havoc on them.

Instead, I feel completely calm.

“I’m a bottomless pit of love,” Mike says with his mouth already full—yet he stuffs three more cubes of cheese and a few slices of cured sausage in there.

“You know, there’s fruits and vegetables on this plate, right?” I say when he swallows the obscene amount of food—which I’m sure he considered ‘a bite’.

“Fine, you have discovered the limits of my affection,” he jokes. “Hey!”

The first grape I chuck at his face bounces off his forehead, and I catch it before it hits the plate again. On the second try, Mike catches it in his mouth.

The third lands directly in his lap—I can’t seem to come to an agreement with myself as to whether or not that happened on purpose, but I happily put the situation to good use by retrieving the rogue fruit with my mouth, not neglecting to press a teasing kiss to Mikey’s soft cock.

“No,” he warns me, drawing out the ‘o’ as he shakes his head. “I mean… Yes! But no.”

For a moment—one of the kind that sets your soul alight and seems to last forever—we just smile at each other as we stare into each other’s eyes.

In my entire existence, I have never felt as safe as I do now.

Or as loved.

Or as at home.

Or as at peace.

“You were right,” I whisper after a while, as I let go of my fears, and my doubts, and my past.

Just for now.

And for him.

Only for him.

“I’m entirely unsurprised,” he chuckles. “But, eh… what about?”

I swallow hard before looking him right in the eye.

“I like boys.”

20 notes · View notes

minjoonapio · 2 months ago

Text

🎐 Wind Breaker Chapter 158: The Great Fires of Extinction (End of the Noroshi arc)

💭THOUGHTS & ANALYSIS [⚠️SPOILERS⚠️]

🧵Twitter/X Version 📖Where to read the manga: Kodansha | Other 📺Watch Season 1 now (S2 in 2025!): Crunchyroll, Netflix

There’s actually not much to analyze about this chapter ‘cause it’s simply well said. So I’ll be sharing my thoughts & feelings. This chapter has such a warm (with a hint of sad) end to a rollercoaster of an arc

Oof my dear boy here needs to rest

I do kinda feel bad for Endo. In a way, he just has this longing and slow burn love for Chika and he just knew he can’t be seen by him the same way he sees Umemiya; being accepted in his world.

Endo gives him everything while he receives nothing (but punches and kicks).

No wait. This is adorable. TF. Endo expects a good hit from Chika but was ecstatic when the kick was harmless. Chika didn’t even give one hit but multiple soft hits??!! STAHP! That’s too cute.

The way Chika's fist froze when Endo mentioned a hot bath 🥲 He's tired af and being babied by Endo 😭

This confirms all the things he said to Sakura about Umemiya is his negative perspective of him. He DETESTS and is jealous of the guy who’s able to be in his Chika’s world.

Now…this is sad.

Something tells me Chika had a really bad experience with people at a very young age…or maybe had none at all :(

Maybe links to his probable face blindness. People who have such condition are usually mistaken to be cold or indifferent towards people, but it's because they have a hard time remembering people's faces. Although, in here, it sounds like his indifference to humans makes him develop face blindness. So I hope we get to hear more of Chika’s past in their talk.

Ah, there’s our Umemiya.

Come to think of it, since his biological family died, Umemiya was exposed to people from different walks of like who are not his blood since he was 9. He has grown and absorbed a vast world for 8-9yrs.

And he could truly tell Chika how amazing it is.

Without even realizing it, Chika actually made the first step to expanding his world. It started from the moment he accepted Umemiya. He even said Ume’s name before Ume told him this trick.

And now that he is aware of it, Chika looks like he decided to accept more people in his world, little by little.

(For some reason, maybe it's because his hair is drenched wet, but he looks lost here 🥺)

I SCREAMED. I knew it. And I’m not even an endochika stan. Oh Endo. Chika has acknowledged him 😫AND A FULL NAME!

(I actually thought we’ll have something dramatic like Togame & Choji crying scene but i dont think it’s ready for that lol)

HUZZAH! UME WON! WE WON! 🎐

Tsubaki collapsed in relief, cutie Choji cheering, and Bofurin, Shishitoren and Roppo Ichiza together rejoicing 🥹and our Class 1-1 are okay 😭

Now y’all gotta tend to your wounds, bath and rest! Jeez 😮‍💨🤧

No words were said but that smile and gesture says a lot. Both leaders didn’t lose. They kept each other's promises.

Umemiya is thankful, happy, and proud of Sakura. Not only for winning and being there for him, but for becoming the person he is now. He is glad his kouhai part of the found family, Bofurin 🥹💚

And we got a double COLOR spread of the two!! 😭😭😭 Thank you Nii sensei! This is beautiful 💚

I hope they get to talk after ALL that. Sakura was a bit shaken up in seeing Umemiya like that and I'm sure he has questions about what Endo meant. Either way, I'm sure Umemiya would want to chat with Sakura about his fight with Endo.

Side note: I LOVE the silly exchange between Umemiya and Endo 🤣most especially reading those small text beside the dialogue bubbles.

I can hear the sarcasm in the “since you didn’t even give half a sht about me before” 🤣🤣🤣

Ah what an end to a great long arc! What a wild ride that was. Hope we get that BBQ! All of them (us included) deserve it 😭

Thank you so much Nii sensei for such an awesome arc. And Jacqueline and team for translating and lettering the manga for us 🥰 You all work hard! 💚

🧵Twitter/X Version 📖Where to read the manga: Kodansha | Other 📺Watch Season 1 now (S2 in 2025!): Crunchyroll, Netflix

Thank you for reading! See you in next week's chapter (Tuesday)!

#wind breaker #wind breaker manga #wind breaker chapter 158 #umemiya hajime #endo yamato #sakura haruka #chika takiishi #tsubaki #ウィンブレ #nii satoru

25 notes · View notes

zkylearnstherope · 10 months ago

Text

Rush Hour [Where We Belong] - AvA / AvM Fan-Made

A very ambitious and late New Year's Special.

Thank you to everyone who waited.

When a proud King kneels, he must have a story to tell.

I know it's hard to believe, especially coming from the Kinky Blog, but the reason I actually started doing all of this fan art stuff was just to be able to tell this specific story. The idea has been around in my head for weeks, way before Being Cautious.

The plot underwent so many iterations but the base concept is still the same: King must find his inner child to find where he belongs. Yup, the [series tag] is actually named after this one. Why a child? Because children see the world as so much brighter, they run and run just to laugh at the stupidest things, and they would never ever try to k*ll themselves.

I am actually glad that I waited for a little bit before I made this. Like, I found my style now and can do some highlights and perspectives. It was hard to plan out but I really love how it all turned out. I hope you guys do too.

Author's Note

This took about a month to make. Around 7 days of planning the composition, plus 23 days to actually draw. Finishing with a total of 12 Frames / 7 Pages.

All four backgrounds are AI-Generated and then color-graded to match the scenes from The King.

The crowd consists of 10 different poses.

Most of my thoughts are in the WIP Post.

As some of you know, I did this because we somehow got 51 Followers a day after Christmas, and guess what- we're at 72 now. Yey!

Someone asked me why Gold looked like Glitchy King Orange. If you watch The King, you'll see that "The King" was one of Gold's games. He was a character that Gold used to roleplay. At least that's how I interpreted that scene.

Original characters by Alan Becker

#ava void walkers au #ava tropicals #alan becker #animation vs minecraft #avm king orange #avm purple #avm green

79 notes · View notes

oddballwriter · 1 year ago

Text

The Moon Boys as Dads

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Warnings: The moon boys being girl dads and mentions of Jake teaching your kid how to fight a bitch

Author’s Snip: This would happen eventually. It's been bubbling in my mind since I've started writing for Moon Knight. It's inevitable, everyone in this fandom wants to have their babies.

Notes: I genuinely think that Jake's part is the only one that would be troubling but let's face it. If Jake had a kid, especially a daughter, he's going to teach her how to fight and send the to the ER or to the scale

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Okay. First thing I need to make straight. I understand that the idea of them having a son is deep. Have it that it heals some of that inner child in Marc and thus the rest of them. And I think that idea is lovely. Honestly can't get enough of it, gets me in the bullseye of my feels

But these men are such girl dads, all three of them

So we're gonna go slightly off of that

Steven Grant

Steven strikes me as the type of guy who just fits into the family man role so well

Absolute proud stay at home dad who has a million photos of all of his kids energy.

Yep, that's right, kids, plural, he wants a bunch of them

He understands and respects if you want just one or two but... like...

He's so good with kids, come on, episode one where he was talking with the little girl??? You can't tell he's not great with kids. He can handle a gaggle of kids if you'd be okay with having a bunch with him.

"One for each of the us" is a joke he'd make

But let's go with the perspective that you have a daughter with him

Already he's just obsessed with her as soon as he gets to hold her

Kids are very chatty, which is great because Steven's chatty and also listens, so if your daughter is talking about her day at school then he listens and nods along.

He'd also do this with her as a baby when all she could do was babble. He'd just listen to it and say "And then what?"

Steven, although he can be quite sassy, is naturally very polite and I'm pretty sure that rubs off on your daughter. He teaches her proper manners like saying "please", "thank you", and "excuse me"

Teaches her about Egyptology because of course he does, you think he's not going to give her those kids books about Egypt? You think the egyptology nerd isn't going to make his kid an egyptology nerd?

If she takes on another interests that's fine too but you think you aren't going to have one more dork in your house?

He praises her all the time for being interested in so many things.

Not to make him sound like one of those dads but he's glad that his kid reads books

Marc Spector

I'll save you what you've heard before. Marc is unsure, Marc is worried that he's gonna fuck up, Gods have mercy on Marc, blah blah blah

And sure I'll go in on it a little bit too

Marc is of course worried about how well he'd do at parenting since he still has some emotional and mental scars that haven't fully been patched up or wounds he's too scared to lick

But hey, he knows what not to do, and that's at least something

He might helicopter parent a little, maybe even a lot, when your daughter is little, especially if she gets her adventurous side early and it's really strong

You and the boys might have to remind him that she's a kid, she's gonna want to navigate and explore what's around her and maybe she'll do something dumb and get hurt a bit

As long as she knows what's dangerous and what's gonna earn her a band-aid

Marc's good when she's a kid but I feel like he just feels more comfortable when she's older, like teenager age

I actually feel like he'd be one of those dads who gets it in his kids head that they can still be a teenager and do teenager things but don't get into any trouble or do something really bad

"Focus on school and stay away from those groups" type of dad that really just means "Don't get Fs in class and don't get arrested."

He's letting her make mistakes and grow from it but he's not gonna baby her either

Marc won't entirely be the "No boys allowed" type of dad either. But if she brings a boy home for any reason, even if the boy's just a classmate that she's doing a project with, then he's telling her that the door stays open till he leaves or they do the project and research in living room or whatever

He's so proud of her too. He makes sure she knows just how loved she is and that he will always be there

Marc actually wants to be the type of parent where whenever his daughter gets in trouble or make a mistake that she thinks "I need to call my dad." instead of "My dad's going to kill me."

Jake Lockley

Jake would have said he wanted a boy but that's a lie he wants a girl first

I can see both Marc and Jake not really being the types to keep their kid in gender roles, neither is Steven if his daughter wants to do things that are considered masculine or boyish then he won't stop her he just sort of defaults to thinking that she'd want to do girly things, but Jake is the type of dad that wouldn't care if he has a daughter he's gonna teach her how to stuff and to take shit from no one

She's going to be a spitfire if Jake's her daddy, that's for sure. A real Buttercup.

She once got in trouble for fighting a boy in her grade because he was making fun of her and he scolded her when you were around but he was secretly so proud

When she's older he teaches her how to fight people and defend herself, I mean he already told her to do that when she was younger but back then it was kick, bite, and scream. When she's a teen it's teaching her how to right and left hook and disorientate

Fuck, she's probably good with a knife too

Jake knows that your daughter can handle herself pretty well but he's still going to be protective over her

If she has a relationship and they put their hands on her that person's just straight up dead

She might know how to aim for the vitals and wash blood off her clothes but she's still his little princess

#moon knight #moonknight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader

242 notes · View notes

transhawks · 2 years ago

Text

A Coward Called Endeavor

I'm wary of wading into the discourse because I'm seeing the unhinged bs my friends are getting, but from my viewpoint I think people miss something important about Dabi-Enji-Shouto and Enji's role in saving Touya -

Enji only tried to be an actual father for one of them and it wasn't Shouto.

No, I know that sounds crazy but we had a toddler whose immediate reaction to seeing his father was being upset and alert that the father would bully his mother. Shouto has never seen Enji the Father, he's only seen a monster named Endeavor.

That's important. Natsuo, heck, Fuyumi to some extent since she was really Rei's girl, none of them had this:

We only see this smirk head on in the manga, but I think this anime shot put it into perspective for me what I'd been mulling over for years, too uncomfortable with the simple truth of what's going on here:

The only Todoroki child who had Enji as a father was Touya.

For a brief few years, Touya was the apple of his eye. And, no, he wasn't replaced with Shouto, not in Enji's eyes. Because Enji uses the word livestock for Shouto. Because Enji was an aggressor from the beginning with Shouto. There was never a moment where this simple sort of moment, a little boy looking up into his father's prideful face as he copied his movements, happened between any of Enji's children besides Touya.

That's why Dabi's like this. It's harder for him to forget Endeavor when he isn't Shouto; he was never "an extension" of Endeavor's drive, but for a short period, he was treated as his actual son before he was thrown away.

So - what does this even mean? Why is it important that the only one with an actual "father" until Endeavor got some sense knocked into him via seeing the Pillar of Peace crumble is Touya?

Because it means Todoroki Enji is a fucking coward, that's what.

We know he's ran away from facing his failures time and time again, but never is more indicative of his cowardice when he got too scared to be a father and decided he wouldn't be. You see, that's why the other three didn't have him as a father - he doesn't know what being a father is. It's likely his own father died on the job, and so the associations of fatherhood in Enji's mind are just... being a hero. Being good at your job, so your kids can be proud of you. The actual parenting, the supporting your child, all that was too much for him.

This is Enji giving up, tail between his legs. He doesn't know how to be anything but "Endeavor", so he's not even going to try.

I really feel like people missed Rei calling him out here. He's running away from his duties and responsibilities to be a father. He fucked up with Touya and doesn't know how to fix it, so he runs off, and ignores all his other kids, and then just trains Shouto like a tool and an extension of himself. He lost his mind and saw his youngest as a simple extension of himself, like a hand or a leg. But when he looked at Touya, once, he saw a person.

A person he failed so many times. Failed to father, then failed to save.

I have a lot more to say about this on Dabi's point of view that also discusses the nuances Western readers aren't getting (like the ie system and his place in it), but when people say that they don't think Endeavor needs to do anything in this Dabi-saving discourse, I think they're forgetting that time and time again we've been shown that Todoroki Enji is a coward and if Horikoshi is serious about any resolution to this man and his "redeeming", it's about time he finally stops being one and faces his fucking son.

All of this has been leading up to him realizing it's nothing but himself that has caused this. That his own cowardice and hatred of himself has torn apart his family. That it's not about him as a hero.

These are the words of a man ready to finally start start being a dad, guys. Took him a quarter of a century.

A caveat: many of us have issues on the Doylist aspect of all this. I've said a few times that most of you are less upset about how Endeavor is being redeemed but the fact he's being redeemed at all, and I get it! The question is always about whether we need more narratives in media of abusers getting redemption, of victimized children reconciling with their parents. I agree fully that those of us who choose to not reconcile, who are unable due to the parents' beliefs or decisions anyway, are underrepresented in media. I know we want to see people like Dabi move on, stop hoping for a man who never knew how to show love for him to love him and apologize. Most of us, in real life, just give up and find love and healing outside of our parents. In many ways, it's healthier to go minimal or low contact with parents like Enji.

But I think that's not the story Horikoshi wants to write. He's writing what is essentially a trauma vent-work and wish fufillment all in one. In his fantastical world, families like the Todoroki one can reconcile, abusers can apologize and strive to make amends. It might be because he wishes this was the case more so than the reality that abuse victims know. He's made missteps with the Todoroki narrative yes, but I don't think what amounts to wish fulfillment on Horikoshi's part is bad-writing just because it's wish fufillment. It's just a very "happy-ending" solution to issues that in real life aren't going to usually see them and I think a lot of us are sick of them.

So, just keep that in mind when people say Dabi needs Endeavor involved. Enji created this problem, he has to fix it, not Shouto. You can't have a Touya at peace with his family if Endeavor gets to shirk his responsibility and keep being a coward.

#endeavor #endeavor tw #enji todoroki #todorokis #my meta #just something quick

487 notes · View notes

midstofroses · 11 months ago

Text

Love Me Like That

❝𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆— 𝑶𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆.❞

♡

Pairing: Jeong Yuno-Jaehyun (nct) x (fem!oc) Original Character

» Genre: one-shot, soft-angst, underlying suggestive– reader discretion advised ▪︎ ex to lovers » Disclaimer! This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or even other fictional stories is purely coincidental

Sienna stepped into the room, the aroma of pizza lingering in the air. "You're just in time. Did you bring the pizza?" Her friend– Nabi asked, revealing the items she had bought. "Yeah, and got some chicken too," she smiled excitedly.

Their living room was transformed into a haven for a movie marathon, a night to savour their well-deserved chill and create fond memories. Nabi's eyes sparkled with excitement as she accepted the food. "Well, then you should go clean yourself and come back here so we can start our movie night."

"I'll be quick," Sienna chimed.

After a brisk wash, the refreshing feeling enveloped her. A slight relief washed over her, even though her raging hormones from that time of the month still caused her physical discomfort.

While picking up her pyjamas, she noticed a mountain of clean clothes at the edge of her bed. Sighing, she decided to restore order before rejoining her friends. Sienna's frustration grew when the drawer refused to close. It wasn't as if she had bought new clothes for her drawer to betray her.

After several failed attempts, she couldn't contain her anger and punched the drawer in frustration.

"I missed him," she mumbled, catching her breath. The reason for her inconvenience dawned on her – her clothes weren't folded the way they used to be when he was around. How foolish of her.

Leaving her dark room, Sienna went to the kitchen where Kai noticed her friend's slightly bruised hand. "Oh? What happened to your hand?" she asked in confusion.

"Oh, it's nothing. I just need to run water on it," Sienna replied, brushing off the concern.

"Make sure you put ointment and bandage it after cooling it off," Kai advised.

"Yeah, will do," Sienna responded, putting on a brave smile beneath her troubled emotions.

"Oh, by the way, Jaehyun came by this afternoon looking for you," Nabi announced, interrupting the moment. Kai recalled the earlier encounter, suspecting a disagreement.

"Did you guys fight?" Kai asked, and Sienna's expression grew timid. She didn't want to discuss him; it was giving her a headache.

"He brought red velvet cupcakes," Nabi added, trying to lighten the mood. Sienna glanced at the coffee table, spotting the cupcakes – a favourite treat of theirs.

"You mentioned it's your first day of 'red days.' I guess having Jaehyun be part of your monthly flow app is so useful," Nabi giggled, proud of the gesture despite the situation.

"Heh, I guess so," Sienna chirped, trying to keep the conversation light while tending to her hand. "Why does he always have great timing?" she pondered, glancing at her phone with unread messages from Yuno piling up.

As they settled into their movie night, Kai brought up the topic of sharing expenses in a relationship. The conversation flowed, intertwining with the movie's background noise.

"I totally agree with you gals, but if the guy made you feel uncomfortable throughout the date, I'd rather pay my half and be done with it," Sienna commented, sharing her perspective.

Kai expanded on the aftermath, "So he wouldn't have the chance to point stupid things. Such as he paid the whole time, but he would act like a sad boy or an ass since the date didn't end well, right?"

"Exactly! Ugh, that's the feeling I hate," Sienna raged, hugging a pillow. After her emotional outburst, she finally indulged in the red velvet cupcake she had been craving.

As the night deepened, the snow outside intensified, creating a cosy atmosphere in their little bubble of friendship. "But if you think about it like this, he wasted your valuable time." Kai offered a new perspective. “So you at least did not waste your own money”

"But that's not what she came for in the first place," Nabi pointed out, settling the situation. “Besides we all know we can earn more money than to live like that.”

"I'd still rather drown myself than give him the privilege to think he spoiled me with his own money," Sienna expressed her feelings, hormones adding a touch of intensity.

The three friends continued their night, sharing deep conversations and appreciating each other's presence. Unbeknownst to them, Sienna was truly grateful, even amid the challenges she hid behind her facade.

As the last days of spring dwindled, Yuno felt a magnetic pull towards the enchanting nights, eager to grasp the remnants of the season before the relentless heat of summer took over. The crisp wind, a balm for his cluttered mind, whispered promises of clarity.

"This feels nice," he murmured, eyes fixed on the captivating night unfolding in the park by the river. Soft lights adorned the streets, and cherry blossoms, in their final dance, swirled around, accompanied by the gentle melody emanating from his headphones.

On a whim, Yuno invited Johnny for a spontaneous bike ride, half-expecting a decline. Much to his surprise, his best friend agreed, and they found themselves in a nearby park, a place etched with memories of their shared adventures.

Yuno, seeking an escape from the confines of home and work, embraced the freedom of riding through the city. The wind carried untold stories, and the cityscape unfolded its secrets.

"Hey, there's no one in the court," Johnny observed, diverting Jaehyun's attention. "Wanna play?" Jaehyun suggested.

"Yeah, it's been a while. It's going to be fun," Johnny agreed, infusing the atmosphere with infectious enthusiasm. After a few spirited rounds, they decided to take a breather, relishing the camaraderie that defined their friendship.

Perched on a bench around the court, they savoured water and ice cream. Johnny playfully teased, "Jae, not to sound like a jealous second babe, but don't you usually ask Sienna for these?" Laughter bubbled up, but beneath the banter, Jaehyun grappled with emotions threatening to surface.

START OF FLASHBACK.

The dark room lit up with the moonlight and the desk lamp near her, Yuno smiled seeing Sienna was waiting at his place.

He closed their proximity by hugging her. Yuno always takes this kind of opportunity whenever she waits for him to come home after a long day from work. He feels relieved from his stress even with just one hug from his favourite person.

After letting him hug her, Yuno stared at her with curiosity “You’d spend the night here?”

Sienna gulped avoiding his gaze. "You went over my head and paid for my University fees without telling me." Her voice was monotone, standing up from where they were sitting.

"Oh, I guess it's too late for a surprise now." He looks up at her, smiling giddily. But, he recognizes her demeanour changes negatively, making his face drop in worry.

“Let me remind you, I'm not a girl who you could just simply pay for, Yuno.” She scoffs painfully. “If you think your grand gesture was cute, well news flash I’m disappointed.” Sienna attempts to calm her voice down, “You didn’t even bother to have this conversation with me!” But alas her blood boils with her tears slowly falling from her eyesight becoming an ocean of pain.

Yuno stood up straight. “It’s just money, Sienna.” He chortles, brushing his hair out of his face.“I don't want you to be stressed because of money.” Yuno huffs out, confused by her action. “I could always make more money for me– for us.” Yet he strives to get close to her, cupping her face with his hands softly caressing her stained cheeks. “And I can help you with that, can’t you see it? I want to support you so you can reach your goal!” His voice and face emitted torment, he hated how this situation occurred.

Her birthday was coming up, and all he wanted was to do something that alleviated her burden.

She removes his hands from her face aggressively, moving away from him.

“You think my family and I can’t handle our shit?” she sarcastically laughed, trying to stop her sobbing, though it was difficult to execute. Anxiously she bit her bottom lip harder.

He could sense her walls starting to appear once again, his nightmare slowly coming to life.

“Sure I'm struggling, my family is struggling.” The young lady asserts, “But I've experienced far much worse than this bullshit and we’ve survived.'' Sienna picked up a pillow and slammed it on the coach. “Why can’t you believe in me?!” With every word she screams out, the pillow gets slammed on the coach. Relinquishing her anger through the use of this method. She stopped her antics, breathing heavily. Sienna peer dead in the eyes of him. “I just needed more time to accomplish things, not all plans can sail smoothly.” Her voice cracked, eyes were gradually forming to puff.

“Sienna, I know how much you want to study again, despite not having it as your first choice with this course.” His body quivered, tears heavily forming as he scanned her figure.“Whenever I see how you recall your memories with your friends or when you help them study, you always have that spark.” He carries on describing his affection towards Sienna and how he witnessed her in the past years of their relationship. “I just want to bring that spark back.” He’s not the type who would just sit down on purpose. If he indeed has the means to help her out, even just a little he would do it in a heartbeat.

Life is hard and he desires to be a partner where she can lean onto him safely.

Yuno wanted to come closer to her, yet she immediately flinched and it broke his heart into pieces seeing her first instinct was to run away from him.

“Jeong Yuno, You’re not getting the point here.” Sienna sniffles as she shakes her head while gazing down on the floor. “We’re over.” she declares, with his furrowed brows “No.” He sternly demands.

She sneered, “After all of this, I'll do the grand gesture to finally break this relationship off.” With her last remark, her body evacuated from his place.

Yuno followed her out but she was too fast and he was too slow to handle the situation, he got lost finding her.

END OF FLASHBACK.

Jaehyun just bared his soul to Johnny, revealing the painful truth of his recent breakup with Sienna, a wound haunting him for three months. It marked a vulnerable moment for Jaehyun, who, until now, had grappled with the harsh reality and denial.

Unbeknownst to Jaehyun, Johnny already knew the heart-wrenching details. A week earlier, Kai, Johnny's girlfriend, had shared the relationship's demise with him. Though Kai hadn't intended to spill the beans, the weight of the secret pushed Johnny to convince her to share the truth.

The revelation left Johnny stunned. Sienna was dead serious with Kai, She didn’t want to entertain questions about them so only a few people got to know the real state of their relationship. Johnny unwittingly became one of those few.

Now, faced with Jaehyun's raw emotions, Johnny wrestled with the delicate balance between concern for his friend and utmost respect for their privacy. He had upheld his end of the bargain, bearing the weight of their shared secret. As a pillar of support, Johnny stood ready to help Jaehyun navigate the emotional turmoil, recognizing Yuno's need for that gentle push.

"How did you cope up?" Johnny delicately probed, shattering the unspoken barriers.

"After that night, every week I'd visit their house, hoping to find her. Eventually, I had to stop when a big project came my way. But I kept leaving messages, calls, even emails," Jaehyun confessed, his unwavering dedication to Sienna palpable. Two years into working with an architecture company, Sienna had been his anchor.

"Sometimes I'd order stuff to be delivered to their home. But after two months, I received a message from her. One message that I thought was my chance to come back into her life, and then I saw it." Jaehyun sighed deeply, the raw pain reflected in his eyes. "She sent: 'It's about time you stop this, don't tire yourself out."

That broke Yuno once again. It snapped his brain, and I focused on work, endless work, stuck at his place, never having an inch to socialize.

Earlier that morning, Jaehyun had grappled with anxiety before a crucial presentation. He dialled Sienna's number, seeking support, but as he hesitated his thumb hovered, preparing to drop the call. To his surprise, her mom picked up, offering words of encouragement and cheering him on.

"She hasn't told them," Johnny stated bluntly.

"No, and obviously I didn't have the heart to either," Jaehyun admitted, the weight of his emotions palpable. The conversation with Sienna's mom provided a brief respite, helping him get through the day and close a deal with clients.

"You're so down bad for Sienna," Johnny remarked, understanding the depth of his friend's emotions. As Jaehyun struggled to contain his feelings, Johnny encouraged him to let them out.

As if on cue, Jaehyun lets himself slowly reveal the emotions that’s been wanting to gush through his walls.

Well, to be fair, this wasn’t his first time crying. He sure had those little episodes in the craziest random time of the day where Yuno would have a mini breakdown remembering his situation with her.

Believe it or not, there was a particular night when he devestatedly couldn't sleep. He tried everything.

First, Yuno got himself up for a quick jog for him to wear out and took a warm shower, though it only made him feel more alive. So he resumed by drinking some wine as he watched a movie, played soothing music, and even read a book. But, it all went down the drain due to his brain failing to focus.

His last resort was masturbating. With no brainer, of course, he would think of her. Although, the fact that he remembers their moments together, he instead ended up crying that night and which made him fall asleep.

It was not the expected way, but it worked.

"I know I fucked up," Jaehyun confessed, tears flowing freely. "But how exactly? To the point she ended up breaking up with me?" The wounds deepened as he confronted the reality of his mistakes.

Johnny, offering comfort, reassured Jaehyun that Sienna's situation was tough. However, he pointed out that Jaehyun's well-intentioned actions were not executed correctly.

"Always remember this, Yuno. As much as you want to help people, you also have to remember where they're standing from. A good honest deed has a chance to appear as insensitive and patronizing," Johnny advised, hitting the core of the issue.

In the real world, complexities surpassed those of fairy tales and movies. Jaehyun realized he should have communicated with Sienna before assuming he could magically alleviate her problems.

Entering the diner, the music from the speakers greeted her. Setting the vibe already makes her feel at ease with the atmosphere where she’s hanging out tonight. Her gaze stopped wondering as she saw Kyujin and Minghao already sitting. Meanwhile, Seokmin was standing up talking on his phone. He has the right hunch that his friend has work left to discuss.

They greeted her as she put herself comfortably on her seat. She’s with one of her old university buddies. Due to her problem, she couldn’t keep up with her batch graduating on time. Nonetheless, they kept strong connections with each other even if they are now working and she’s back with her University life.

“Seokmin should have left his phone on aeroplane mode,'' Kyujin remarked as she shook her head from side to side. Minghao nodded, however, he pressed the thought “Well to be fair, it might be an emergency with work that he needs to mend.”

“At least he is paid though.” Sienna chimed smiling, Her friends knew for over those two years of her not attending university she was working on her corporate days before and tended to overtime as well. It’s not so different with her university work taking her life after hours, the only thing she was not paid to do overtime may it be her university and unfortunately her corporate days.

“Sorry about that, but no worries it won’t bother our dinner.” he smiled at them, “Give me your phone” Kyujin, as the mom of this group Seokmin simply followed her. “There.” his phone successfully turned out to be in aeroplane mode.

Sienna snorted, Seokmin was astounded by what her friend doing “I said I’m sorry” He pouted “Fine keep it on aeroplane mode. If there’s anything I’ll handle it tomorrow.” he said proudly, “Yeah, handle it on your working hours.'' Minghao, who is also a big advocate of work and life balance, reminded him as he patted his friend's hand.

As the night settles with them, Seokmin opens the topic “Nabi is out right with Jaemin’s family?” On the table while they started to eat their order.

The girl next to her nodded as she ate the cheezy fries ``Yeah and Kai, She has this workshop she needs to attend." She starts to explain her housemate's situation "So basically both of them will not be back until next week.''

With the new information, Kyujin excitedly clapped. “Well then, you have no excuses not to come. It’ll be fun. Besides, Mingyu deserves to have some OG guests.” Kyujin is always amazing at pursuing people and Sienna is always weak for her friend.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to drink this week, take this chance with us. It has free drinks and food anyway.” Comically his brows go up and down. “And you know what free food and drinks taste like.” He ends his last speech of temptation.

“A hit or miss.” She put her tongue out as she deadpans her friend.

Minghao laughed at the banter between Sienna and Seokmin. “We’re aware that you're not reliving the song ‘Stuck with U’ by Ariana Grande and Justin Bieber for letting yourself feel stuffed for a whole month in your apartment. ” He finally joined, even has the gut to make a joke out of her situation pulling a quote-unquote with his hand gestures. However, they were right Sienna when given a chance to stay at her comfort home would make the most out of it.

Although now she's on a dinner date with them; After a month of hibernation, she just now greeted the outside world properly. “It's not my fault that my subjects are eating me up. Besides, earlier I had to attend University onsite so plus points to that and now I’m already with you guys, here eating dinner.” Sienna puckered her lips, still up for this debate despite being conquered by those trio.

Seokmin snorted at Sienna’s last comment “Yeah, right!” letting his hand grab her head and squeeze it as if he was a crane and she’s a toy.

“Sizt no!” Kyujin pouted and shook her head daintily. “How about this since you’re already out of your cocoon, just try to spend some of the days this week outside.” she negotiates with the girl who does not care one bit about Seokmin’s antics as she’s busy munching her ice cream.

“Exactly, just end your week with good vibes, you’re no guard dog.” Minghao with his witty brain could not let her go, when those three come together it’s like Sienna is fighting against the world.

She sighs in front of them, letting her head roll over to her left side finally expressing her being defeated.

As if an accomplished couple made their child have nowhere to go but listen to them, Kyujin and Minghao high-fived each other and held their hands shakingly. It’s their mini-victory move. “If you guys keep being cute, I feel like ants would eat us up.” She joked.

Seokmin looked at the girl next to her cheekily “Oh Sienna, Sienna, Sienna” repeating her name in a sing-song tone, whilst shaking his head playfully. “You just miss someone.”

Minghao covered his mouth, acting surprised. “Offt Seokmin dropping the bomb.” Kyujin teased the fire, showing her actions with her hands dropping.

It’s been 8 months since the breakup.

Sienna squinted her eyes as if throwing daggers at him. “Oh, shut up.” She smacked his left shoulder.

Leaving them chuckling at their antics.

Quickly changing the subject, Sienna sits properly. “Fine, this Saturday I’ll attend Mingyu’s place.” Rolling her eyes dramatically “The booze should be great, or I'm out.”

Despite a busy schedule, Yuno got dragged out for a coffee successfully by his work partner Jungkook before they would drive to meet their client onsite.

Yuno’s eyes glanced at the interior of the cafe, and he stopped when he saw a familiar physique after a long time. It was Sienna focused on her laptop, wearing her signature hoodie with her glasses.

He and Jungkook sat near the cafe counter waiting for their order. The guy simply watched her and couldn't help but still have a longing feeling of adoration.

Of course, she’s not alone, she’s with two people that look like her classmates.

He smiled at his thoughts thinking she also might get dragged outside as well, which she truly needs. Sienna always tends to trap herself in her room, especially on a weekend; little sunlight isn’t enough for her.

Sensing that one of her classmates was about to look around, he avoided his stare at her and exactly with that their little buzzer turned on letting them know that their orders were complete to go.

On the other hand Sienna did mini stretches to her arms as Her eyes slowly looked outside the cafe and saw a familiar back, she steadily recognized when the view of the man got a good side view. “Oh it's Yuno...” she whispered, then it truly sank at her making her eyes widen, almost choking herself while she drank her matcha frappe.

“Omygod— Sienna!” Both of her friends reacted frantic, Giving her all the tissues they have to her.

"You good now? What happened?” Jungwoo queried and looked to where she was staring earlier, but failed to recognize what made their friend go nuts.

Sienna shakes her head “Oh no it’s nothing..” she tries to cover her tracks, could not even think of a proper excuse.

Seungkwan oozes suspicion with the younger girl but lets her know that it’s fine to not be forced to tell.

“I have this event I need to attend.” Jungwoo didn't prolong the weird air, taking the chance to express his dread.

Sienna laughed at the poor puppy. “Isn’t your parents' fundraising event?” Seungkwan recalled their conversation back then. “That's tough. Knowing your parents, they would want it to be perfect.” Sienna bluntly says. “Exactly, it’s going to be a pain in the neck.” Jungwoo rolled his eyes with exaggeration.

She isn’t well into those kinds of grand parties either. It only reminds her back then when she felt she was out of the picture whenever with Yuno.

The only thing she cares about is to support Yuno in whatever journey he has to accomplish, that's why she lets him take her in these events.

Nonetheless, some of the invitees couldn't be bothered hiding their expressions.

It continued until she ended up walking on eggshells while attending these events. She's well aware those people were irrelevant, and Sienna needed to be stronger.

However, with the compilation of Backhanded comments she receives:

"Well in your generation, love matters more."

"Oh darling, you'll have your time."

With those gazes, she could just disappear into thin air as if she were prey.

Little by little it consumed her.

Sienna’s train of thought snapped immediately.

"Earth to Sienna."

Seungkwan patted the girl's shoulder, bringing her back to their conversation.

"Sorry, what?"

Jungwoo pouted more than he could do and continued to ask them. "Are you guys free to be my dates this Saturday?" Hoping that they would agree to be together with his misery just to make something out of it and not worry about socializing much in the event.

"Pass." Seungkwan quickly replied while shaking his head left and right to his friend, "I got other things to assemble from our course organization seminar."

Sienna couldn't help but chuckle at Jungwoo's reaction when he started begging with his actions through his hands. "Sorry, but I have a party to attend as well." Pursing her lips tightly.

Seungkwan grabbed Sienna's left arm, wanting her to mimic the way he waved goodbye towards Jungwoo, "Be strong, Soldier." She played along with the guy next to her and both shared the same smiles with their two cents.

Sienna dressed up a bit, well it’s a party, after all. Her cute black mini dress complimented her heel loafers. She’s not going to lie it’s been a while for her to dress up, and it feels good.

As she stepped into the dimly lit venue, bathed in hues of purple and blue lights, a familiar voice cut through the atmosphere. "Sienna!" Kyujin’s excitement radiated as she embraced her. "Are the other two here already?" she inquired after the warm hug.

"Yup, we can huddle over there, it's much more comfortable."

Navigating their way to the living room, Sienna spotted Minghao and Seokmin, who were already in high spirits, sitting side by side with welcoming smiles.

"For a minute I thought you backed out." Minghao teased, earning a giggle from Kyujin.

Minghao's knack for reading people was, as always, on point. Sienna was hesitating for a moment at the entrance, with her heart pounding with uncertainty. The decision to attend this gathering had been a last-minute contemplation. She knew a few faces in the crowd, but it was the ghost of him that lingered in her thoughts. Earlier that day, an unexpected wave of nostalgia engulfed her, triggering what she reluctantly dubbed a "Relapse." She found herself tumbling down a rabbit hole of old photos and videos, relics of a time when they were entwined in each other's lives.

As she stood there, the weight of unanswered questions pressed upon her. Were the people around her aware of the demise of their once-shared world? A shiver of anxiety ran down her spine at the mere thought of being questioned about a love that now existed only in fragments of the past.

Eight months had passed, yet the grip he held on her heart remained unyielding. The invisible threads of their history continued to bind her, leaving Sienna entangled in a web of longing and unresolved emotions.

"Aye, don't be like that," she chuckled, waving her hand dismissively. "I even brought snacks." Seokmin, ever observant, noticed the packaging. "Oh! I guess the lady at that sweet shop was your mom then."

Sienna looked curious to him wanting him to continue. "Your mom was carrying a navy blue handbag right?" Sienna vividly remembers making her head nod.

Seokmin already felt proud with his keen eyes, no wonder the lady was familiar to him.

"I was in front of the store parking lot and got a glimpse of your mom Entering the store." He pointed out the sweet shop's name.

Her mom visited her earlier to personally break the news that her mom's land had already been sold with a very great offer. She expressed how she was so thankful that they waited and did not rush the selling of their property which led them to accumulate a huge deal.

In celebration, her mom remembers her daughter tends to like honey biscuits as the reason why she was at a sweet shop. Little did her mom know that the reason why she liked them was because Jaehyun influenced her since it was his childhood favourite sweets.

That was the trigger for her to this party since she had the feeling she would just dwell on her emotions at home alone. Distraction is highly needed.

After a couple of hours, Jaehyun arrived at the scene of the party. Mingyu greeted the guy and pointed to where Sienna was located.

Earlier, Mingyu had noticed Sienna alone in the corner of his sofa, engaging in a conversation with herself. Even to the untrained eye, it was apparent she had indulged a bit too much in the festivities. Her body tends to flop side to side with her head spinning lightly.

The three musketeers that she was with beginning at the party left earlier, and because of still not wanting her to leave early she stayed besides she put an excuse that some of the people she knew here she wanted to catch up.

Out of concern, he immediately contacted Yuno. Mingyu is one of those people who are not updated with the situation of the two people.

Yuno swiftly appeared in front of the lady, whose now trying her best to stay awake by softly slapping her cheeks and opening her eyes wide. In response, Jaehyun sighed and approached her, wrapping his flannel around her—his way of acknowledging how chilly she could get.

“You’re drunk, let’s go home.”

Sienna, with a pout, insisted, "I'm not drunk, just tipsy... I can still take it." She reached for her cup, but Jaehyun lightly caught her hand. "Sienna, please..." he pleaded. Reluctantly, she let go of the cup, covering her face with her hands. "Ugh, you're so boring; I don't want to go home yet." Despite her wobbly stance, a stark contrast to her claim of sobriety, she stood up.

Giggling, she attempted to stare at Jaehyun. Her brain, clouded by sweet toxins, transformed her surroundings into a hazy spectacle. Jaehyun, seizing the opportunity, gently gripped her figure securely and let her follow his body towards the exit. “You can get whiny when you're drunk.”

She bit her bottom lip, staring at him as her eyebrows furrowed. “N-No, I'm not” she chirped yet Jaehyun could still hear her as how close their bodies were now, he was left only to chuckle at her attitude.

Jaehyun was wearing his beanie and glasses, matching them up with the dim party lights, as to why Sienna has slow recognition due to her alcohol influence. However, her sixth sense just lets her guard down due to familiarity.

Pulling up to the car, Sienna settled herself comfortably in the front passenger seat. Jaehyun reached for the blanket tucked at the back and gently draped it over her figure.

“Can we open the window?” Sienna peered outside, where the street lights cast a soft glow. Jaehyun obliged, clicking the switch to let in the cool night air.

“Better?” He questioned, as he eased the car into motion.

She closed her eyes, letting the refreshing breeze envelop her. After stealing a glance at Jaehyun, she responded with a serene, "Yeah."

Fully aware now that she was in the company of Yuno, Sienna marvelled at how her instincts had effortlessly guided her away from the crowd and toward him.

“Is anybody at your home right now?" Hearing him, Sienna shakes her head slowly, her eyes remaining closed to contain the lingering dizziness.

"Both of them are out of town."

Jaehyun hummed in agreement, his thoughtful expression barely visible in the dimly lit car. "I can't leave you alone at your house. You should rest at my place instead, He declared that if there's an argument needed to be brought up it would be useless.

With Sienna's mind in its current state, his decisiveness didn't bother her. It was a welcome assurance amid the swirl of emotions she grappled with.

They both slowly entered Yuno’s place, easily passing by the lounge area to his private room. Letting the lady sit as he turned on the lamp next to his bed.

He took some cotton pads and makeup remover. It's been a while since he opened this particular side of his nightstand, back then it was her side of the bed anyway.

His hands gingerly swipe the damped cotton throughout her face, she looks entrapped by his aura, The way his eyes twitched and and his bottom lip bitting due to his hyperfocus, it might not be obvious but with her hazy view she could see behind his glasses are eyebags that has been a bit more obvious. With this situation, it brings back memories as if it were only yesterday.

"They're all clean." he huffs proudly as he returns the essentials to its container, "Let me get you some water." Before he could even get up, Sienna stole a kiss from him, jaehyun was caught off guard he flinched and stared at her flushed self. His eyes roamed from her sombre eyes gradually to her lips, breathing against each other– the air thick with anticipation.

Leisurely discarding his glasses, he leaned toward her. Eventually, his instincts couldn't resist the magnetic pull of the moment, and he found himself reciprocating the kiss. His dominant hand found the nape of her neck, while the left rested on her waist tightly.

Amidst the fog of sweet alcohol lingering from her system invading his space of mind. the kiss deepened, and their bodies drew dangerously closer within seconds.

With that snap of realization, Yuno stopped the act, dazed by her.

He would do anything for her, he constantly yearned for her even after all that happened. Yet, he refused to take advantage of her vulnerability. As he struggled to formulate the words he needed to convey, he grappled with the elusive thoughts.

He wanted to reassure her, to make her understand. But his brain seemed to be on strike, rendering him helpless.

Cold sweats build up over him, He suddenly feels like a teen boy who's in front of his huge crush.

"Sienna, I—" His words were abruptly cut short as she averted her eyes, rising slowly. As she hastened away, he found himself perplexed by the startling shift, his body instinctively following her.

Realizing the toilet room lights were open, he moved fast behind her. Already hiding how flustered he is.

Efficiently gathering her hair into a ponytail as she faced the toilet— letting out the toxins from her system. he offered a comforting rub on her back. His eyes fell on the drawer beneath the counter, remembering the hair ties she had left behind. He snatched one and secured her hair.

Perhaps, it had always been the right choice not to clean out the stuff she kept in his place.

"Take it easy," he hummed, attempting to access a smaller drawer, anticipating a towel within. All the while, he continued to rub her back, providing solace amid the discomfort.

With the final flush from the toilet, she ceased her ordeal. Jaehyun proactively used the towel to dab at her mouth. "Feeling better?" he asked, focused on the task.

She nodded, touching his hands and prompting him to halt. "I'm sorry.." she sighed, closing her eyes and braving the persistent dizziness. His gaze softened, taking in her dishevelled appearance, the messy ponytail he had made, her droopy eyes, and her flushed figure.

“Let’s go to bed—” he cleared his throat “Let’s take you to bed, you need to rest up hmm?.”

Her body went near him, and put her head on his chest “Don’t leave….” He looked down, already feeling his shirt getting drenched.

She is already crying.

He patted her head. "I won't," he assured, breathing heavily. "I won't leave you alone… so let’s go to bed." With a controlled but strained voice, he subdued the surging emotions.

Carrying her to bed, he tucked her in gently. Although he yearned to lie beside her, this wasn't the moment. He settled beside the bed on his rug, holding her hand, watching over her. As he hummed softly, he moved strands of hair away from her face, his quiet presence coaxing a serene expression onto her face.

Even in mere proximity, he found solace.

The sunlight tiptoed into the room, gently rousing Sienna from her deep slumber. A momentary panic seized her when her eyes landed on a head resting at the edge of the bed. Quickly regaining composure, she realized Yuno was sleeping on the floor beside her. His head lay on the mattress, while his body occupied the floor.

Her heartbeat slowed, confusion swirling in her mind as she tried to make sense of the situation. Battling a hangover headache, she opened her eyes gently, fixating on the man's face. It had been too long since she allowed herself to bask in the sight of him, and the ache of missing him resurfaced.

Almost by instinct, her hand lightly caressed his bangs, now dyed in a darker shade. Moving to his eyebrows and eyes, the familiarity felt both comforting and oddly unfamiliar after all this time.

His eyes twitched slightly, signalling his impending awakening. As her brain flashed fragments of memories from the previous night, embarrassment coursed through her.

Jaehyun's eyes fluttered open, meeting hers. Sensing her staring fixed on his lips, he gently grabbed her hand, preventing her from retracting her actions. "You're awake," she timidly said, attempting to downplay the significance of her actions.

She didn't get an immediate response, but now it was Yuno's turn to observe her. Despite having done the same the night before, this morning ritual fed his yearning for the simple moments they used to share.

"Do-Don't just stare at me like that," she uttered, biting her bottom lip.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. After a comfortable silence, she replied, "Don't bother, it's not like it's a big thing," avoiding his piercing stare, her cheeks flushing with warmth.

He shook his head slowly. "I have a lot to say sorry for."

Puzzled, her mind hinted at their last fight, the night they broke up. "I understand. It's not my decision to make."

"I should have talked with you before acting out my will with this, especially when it’s strongly sensitive for you… “ His voice became small but he needs to take accountability.

“I was selfish. I figured since I have the privilege to save up, all I could think was part of my savings was all about you."

"I should have known better."

Sienna always loved how pure this guy can get. She recognized the sincerity of his intentions. “I was too defensive and insecure to begin with every time I could see how people view us. I love how they take pride in you for what you do, but when I’m in the picture with you I could feel they always have this impression in our relationship that I’m not enough for you."

"I felt embarrassed, my inferiority complex burst." her eyes welled with emotion.

"You know I struggled to ask for help, and I always tried to conquer that, but when our last fight happened, it got me overwhelmed. It was an extreme gesture, and it felt like you were forcing me to be someone I'm not prepared to be." With his sincerity, she felt attacked and unsafe at that time. She was clouded by her negative thoughts and forgot she had him all this time – he was there to pick her up when she was feeling blue.

Yuno softened his gaze at her, “I’m sorry. I was so blinded and didn’t reassure you enough about our relationship, that it got to your thoughts. I don’t care about them, and I know it will be tough for you to immediately not care. So I’ll do my best to be there for you– reminding you to think of me and only me when you doubt, and I will never get tired of making you feel secure.”

She nodded and continued, "I’m fully aware that I have a lot on my plate, especially back then, working to support my family and myself." Her voice cracked as she struggled to compose herself. "And it's just so embarrassing how I know you so well. You’ve always wanted to help me— you’ve always been there, whether I’m struggling financially or whatever situation I'm facing. I just couldn’t take the bullet of reality that I needed to accept. “

Her eyes continued to sting. With every word she spilt, tears flowed down her cheeks.

He was the sunshine she couldn't handle.

"But I broke it. I promised you a slow and steady relationship."

Sienna looked at him stunned, he remembers.

“See you’re a guy who has a light that shouldn't be tainted.” she blurted out, sniffing.

Jaehyun shook his head slowly. Vividly his dimples, and a reassured smile carved his lips. “Sienna when I’m with you. I’m only a normal guy, a guy who loves you deeply, who wants to be with you.” He caressed her cheeks, gingerly wiping away the tears that streamed from her eyes.

Heart fluttering, realising once again that's she is truly in love with this person.

"I'll do better to make myself be deserving of you; I'll work hard.” She firmly stated, Her innocent orbs now filled with passion. “You did receive the money earlier, right?” After meeting her mom, Sienna transferred the money he paid for her university fees.

"You're more than enough, and I will always support you." Jaehyun held her hand tightly, bringing it close to his mouth. “And then, for the meantime, I’ll keep the money in my savings. That will be for us in the future.” He planted a soft kiss on her hand as if sealing a promise of his commitment.

“Besides, all I ever want is for you to spend your time with me – grow old together.” He whispered, his eyes reflecting a future filled with shared unwavering love. With those words, he painted a canvas of a lifetime. Sienna's heart swelled with a mix of emotions, and as they embraced, they both knew that their love story was not just a chapter but a timeless journey of growing old together.

I hope you guys enjoyed it!꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

94 notes · View notes