#i don't really know what else to tag this as

[wholoveseggs]

heyyyyy girllll, ik that you already wrote a series about a professor and student, but could you pleaseeeee make a one shot with a virgin reader🥹🥹🥹

Angel

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!vampire!Reader} Newly turned and overwhelmed, one hunger refuses to be ignored. You need guidance, and who better to teach you than Elijah Mikaelson?

♡♡ You didn't specify what kind of teacher.... so I took some creative libertiessss (DON'T BANG YOUR TEACHERS, OKAY?? NOT A WISE THING TO DO(EXCEPT IF THEY ARE A MIKAELSON))~ ♡♡

5k words {whoops} - Warnings: smuutttt, vampire!reader, virgin!reader, first time, a brief Hayley cameo, blood drinking, riding, reader knows what she wants, Elijah talking you through it, teaching, oral sex (f!receiving), feeding during sex, possessive but tender Elijah && a pet name...

"So, you're just going to waltz in and ask him?" Hayley asked, shocked at how blunt you were being.

"Well, yeah," you replied nonchalantly. "How else am I supposed to do it?"

"I don't know," she said, "maybe try being more subtle?"

Hayley looked at you like you'd lost your mind, but you just shrugged, unbothered. The constant hum of your heightened emotions had been driving you insane for days. Hunger, anger, lust. Mostly lust. And no matter how much you tried to control it, you couldn’t shake the gnawing, primal need clawing at you from the inside out.

"Subtlety is overrated," you said, crossing your arms. "I don’t think Elijah would appreciate me batting my lashes and giggling like a schoolgirl. He values directness."

"Yeah, but there's direct, and then there's direct," Hayley shot back, looking equally horrified and intrigued. "I mean, do you even know if he's into you?"

You paused, considering. Elijah was your mentor; your teacher when it came to all things vampire. He was always so composed, so controlled, but there was something in the way he looked at you. He was always assessing, always holding himself back. You'd caught him staring once or twice when he thought you weren’t looking. And there was that one time he murmured something in that low, velvety voice of his about lust being a difficult thing for new vampires to control…

"I think he is," you said simply.

"Okay, but what if he says no?" Hayley pressed.

You smirked, enjoying her mild jealousy. "Then I’ll go take an ice bath and reevaluate my choices."

Hayley groaned, rubbing her temples. "This is the most unhinged plan I’ve ever heard. And I've lived in this house with Klaus."

"Wish me luck," you said with a wink before striding down the hall toward Elijah’s study.

Your hands clenched at your sides as you stopped outside his door, suddenly hyper aware of how fast your heart was racing. Vampire senses made everything feel more. More intense, more overwhelming. But there was no turning back now. You wanted this. No. You needed this.

Taking a breath, you knocked once before pushing the door open.

Elijah sat at his desk, a glass of bourbon in one hand, an old book in the other. He barely glanced up as he said, “I take it this is a social visit?”

You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. “No, it’s not... well... actually...”

Finally, his dark eyes lifted to meet yours, curiosity flickering across his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You exhaled sharply and walked toward him, each step deliberate. "I want you to teach me something new... Something important."

His brow arched. "What is it that you think you're lacking in your education?"

You stopped in front of his desk, trying not to focus on the way his shirt clung to his toned chest. "I don't need any more history lessons, or lectures on self-control. I know all of that."

"Oh really? You've been a vampire for less than a month, and already you know everything I could possibly teach you?" he asked, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Not everything," you said, leaning forward to brace yourself on his desk. "I still have lots to learn and there's one lesson I'm hoping you can teach me, and I'd like you to start right now."

His eyes narrowed, darting to your lips for a brief moment before snapping back to yours. "And what, pray tell, might that be?"

You swallowed, nerves clashing with the hunger and lust burning inside you. Then, with as much confidence as you could muster, you blurted it out.

"I want you to teach me how to have sex."

For the first time since you had met him, Elijah Mikaelson actually looked stunned. The glass in his hand halted halfway to his lips, eyes widening fractionally before his expression resumed its usual cool facade. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I beg your pardon?"

You bit your lip, cheeks flushing as you replayed the words in your head, suddenly embarrassed. But no, you had decided, you would be direct.

"Before I was turned... I, uh, I didn't get a chance to, you know, lose my virginity. So, I don't know what I'm doing... And I'm worried if I just pick up a random guy, I might kill him..." You spoke quickly, already regretting opening your mouth. What was wrong with you?

"Are you propositioning me, my dear?"

Something like warm amusement flickered in his eyes, and you relaxed a little, straightening. You expected pity, the way Hayley had looked at you. Judgment. Anything but the glint in Elijah's eyes as they slowly raked down your body, gaze sharpening with interest as it darkened.

A giddy flutter rose in your chest, and you licked your lips.

"Yes."

Silence fell over the room as Elijah set his drink down and stood, walking slowly toward you, his eyes never leaving yours. When he finally stopped, his chest was nearly brushing yours, the proximity making your head spin.

"Tell me, why have you chosen me for this particular lesson?" he murmured, fingers reaching up to trace the line of your jaw.

A jolt of heat ran through you, and you tried to remember how to speak. "Well, you're, uh, a noble gentleman... I trust you."

He chuckled. "I try my best. But are you sure that's the only reason?"

"Um..." You trailed off, his fingers slipping under your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Be honest, angel,"

"Because..." you said, a blush creeping across your cheeks. Angel? He just called you angel.

"Because... I think about you, all the time," you admitted. "Ever since I became a vampire. It's like every feeling is dialed up to eleven. Except my desire. It's a thousand times worse than that, and I can't make it stop. It's torture. And I know it's inappropriate, but..."

"It's not," Elijah interjected, his fingers sliding down the length of your throat. "We can't help what we want, can we?"

You shook your head.

"What is it that you want, my little vampire?"

You swallowed, your eyes flickering to his lips. "I want to kiss you."

His lips curved into a smirk, and then his mouth was on yours, firm but gentle. His lips moved slowly, expertly, and your entire body flooded with warmth, your legs suddenly unsteady. He felt so good. Smelled so good.

Your arms went around his neck, pulling him closer. You had kissed boys before, but it was nothing like this. This was an out-of-body experience, like the whole world was melting away and there was only the two of you.

He moved away far too soon, and a small sound of protest left your lips.

"So eager," he said, tipping your chin up to look at him. "Is that all you want? A kiss?"

You shook your head, a small, embarrassed laugh escaping. "No."

He smiled, his hands moving down your waist to your hips, gripping lightly, pulling you flush against him. "Our bodies have an enhanced awareness of what they want, what they need." He paused, pressing a kiss to the column of your throat, then, so quietly it was almost inaudible,  "Humans have sex drives, but ours..."

"Are stronger," you finished in a raspy voice. "More Intense."

Elijah hummed. "Very."

"So, you'll teach me then?"

He chuckled softly, lifting his head to capture your lips in another slow, deep kiss. "Teaching isn't the word I would use,"

A blush spread from your chest to your cheeks. You nodded, wanting more than anything for him to tumble you into bed and show you all the things his thousand years had taught him. He was patient, though, and the way he was kissing you now was driving you mad.

He lifted you effortlessly, and you let out a soft gasp. Before you could blink, you were in his bedroom, him pressing your back into the mattress, his hands everywhere. His lips trailed down the column of your throat, tongue darting out to taste the soft skin.Your hands curling into his chest, nails digging through the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't rip my shirt," he murmured against your neck, and you giggled.

"Sorry,"

"You will be," he said, pulling back to give you a dark smile.

A thrill of anticipation ran through you, and you pushed him onto his back, climbing onto his lap, the heat between your legs throbbing with need. Your lips crashed together again, more frantic this time, more desperate. Teeth clashed, biting, nibbling, sucking. All the while, a heady ache grew between your thighs, and when he cupped your ass, pulling your hips flush against his, you could feel his own primal need straining against his trousers.

You moaned into his mouth, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, needing more. "Please, Elijah," you murmured, sighing at the soft kisses he began to trail along your throat. "I need you."

"Patience, angel,"

With a frustrated groan, you slumped against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His scent surrounded you. Aftershave, musk, something distinctly masculine and earthy. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment. Then you heard it, his blood, pumping steadily beneath his skin, calling to you. You wanted to sink your fangs into him, taste his hot blood coursing over your tongue.

You felt your vampire nature take over, veins protruding beneath your eyes, fangs extending. Instinct urged you forward, pressing soft kisses to his neck before nuzzling his warm skin, hunger gnawing inside your bones.

He chuckled at the gentle, kitten-like kisses you pressed to his neck, your fangs scratching his skin. He pulled your head away, urging your eyes to meet his as a glimmer of amusement danced in his. "So bloodthirsty,"

"C'mon, please." you whined, leaning in and kissing him deeply, trying to press your core against his bulge. You grunted, bucking your hips, starting a rhythm. Fuck he smelled so good, he felt so good, every fiber of your being yearning for his touch.

Your fangs brushed against his lower lip, drawing blood. He hissed, kissing you harder. His fingers tightened against the back of your head as he angled your face to give himself more access. You mewled as your hands clung to his chest, feeling his cock stiff against your stomach was doing terrible things to you.

"Look at me."

You obeyed instantly, his compulsion bringing you to a screeching halt. You whimpered, panting and needy. As his bloody lip healed, a single drop trickled down his chin, and you shivered, licking your lips as you followed the droplet's path with your eyes.

"Relax," he cooed, smirking as he wiped it away. "Don't you worry. I'm going to give you exactly what you want. But," he added in a darker tone, "only when I say."

Swallowing hard, you nodded, bracing your hands against his shoulders. "Okay,"

"Good girl,"

A rush of arousal shot through you at the praise, and a needy whine escaped your lips.

He smirked. "Oh, you like that? Being told what a good girl you are?"

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and his smirk widened. 

"Take your clothes off for me," he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You quickly scrambled off his lap, flushed with heat as you stripped, pulling your dress over your head, watching Elijah watch you. His eyes tracked your every move, drinking you in as your bra came off. Then, with your shaky fingers, you hooked your thumbs under your panties, slowly peeling them down your thighs. Finally, you stood in front of him, naked, exposed, trembling, heart pounding in your ears.

"My, you're even lovelier than I'd imagined,"

You ached to feel him, craving more, more, more. A spark flashed in his gaze. You wanted him. Everything about this felt right. Every part of him wanted you too. His restraint was nothing but a mask, all for your benefit. You knew that once he lost his control, he would not be the patient and kind teacher you knew so well. Underneath that carefully crafted image was a beast, a creature of immense power, a force to be reckoned with.

"What's wrong, my dear?"

His voice pulled you from your thoughts, your eyes flitting up to his. A faint smirk played on his lips as his hand slid to your hip, dragging you closer. "Can't remember how to speak?"

You shook your head, unable to form a coherent thought.

"That's alright," he said, kissing his way down the side of your neck. “tell me if it gets too overwhelming,”

You nodded, inhaling sharply as your bare skin brushed his, your hands flat against his broad chest. His lips found yours again, deepening the kiss as his tongue parted your lips. Something was happening to you, this unfamiliar feeling. You could tell something big was building inside, a need, and Elijah was unravelling it, unraveling you.

He chuckled against your lips as he cupped your face, slowly pulling back just enough to gaze at you with those deep, brown eyes of his. He took your hand and sat you down at the edge of the bed.

"Don't be shy," he whispered. "It's just me."

You gulped. Just Elijah. Sure. How reassuring.

The room felt like it was spinning around you, but as you looked at him, everything steadied. He took a step back, unbuttoning his collar slowly. You wanted him. You could barely stop yourself from reaching for his belt, your hunger overriding every thought and impulse. You mustered all the self-control Elijah had taught you, forcing yourself to sit still as your thighs clenched together, the urge to relieve yourself building and building.

Elijah tilted his head, enjoying how desperate you were becoming, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as his shirt came undone. He tossed the article of clothing on the ground.

Your eyes drifted over his bare chest, his nice arms and toned torso. A breath escaped you when your eyes moved down to see the defined outline of his cock against the material of his slacks. He was big, so big, so thick, so—

Your face went hot. A jolt of reality hitting you, everything felt so much, all at once. The hunger for his touch, for his taste. The way he smelled so fucking good. Everything was amplified, your every sense alive and thrumming. You bit your lip and watched as his slacks hit the ground and he stepped out of them, your mouth practically salivating.

Elijah was fucking stunning, and all yours.

He smiled and placed one of his knees on the edge of the bed. The movement made it bounce ever so slightly, and your eyes widened, your mouth opened, but the only sound you could manage was a squeak.

He reached for you, pulling you close and capturing your lips in his again. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to surrendered to him, letting yourself feel him, really feel him.

"This is going to feel very intense for you," he murmured in the small space between your mouths, "your emotions and needs heightened. All your senses are in overdrive."

A sigh left you as you opened your eyes again to meet his, dark and full of promises you never dreamed of before. His eyes, they made you tremble, they were so warm, so intense. And when they dropped to your mouth, the heat pooling between your thighs intensified tenfold.

"Don't feed until I say so, you understand?" He pulled back slightly, tilting his head and giving you a warning look, making sure he had your complete attention.

You swallowed and nodded. "I won't,"

"Good girl," he hummed before dipping down to kiss your lips.

His kiss was more possessive, his touch more demanding. Elijah pushed you back into the bed, your hair sprawling around you as he kissed you senseless. His lips left yours and kissed down your jawline, down your neck, to the swell of your breasts. You moaned when you felt his hot, wet mouth close around your nipple, your body thrumming when he nipped your flesh between his teeth, giving the other the same treatment.

The throbbing was intense and so damn good. His mouth was magic as he kissed a path down your stomach, making you feel like your entire being was ablaze, your desire burning deep. You writhed, his lips curling into a smile against your skin. He could probably hear how hard your heart was pounding. He was driving you mad with need.

"Please, Elijah," you breathed, squirming beneath him as his mouth continued to work over you, down your abdomen.

A deep, husky chuckle rumbled in his chest as his lips pressed to the sensitive skin on your inner thighs, teasing, tantalizing you with each featherlight kiss. Your breathing picked up, his mouth so close to where you wanted him. Both of your hands tangled in his dark hair, nerves and anticipation waring in your mind.

His hands came up, parting your knees slowly. He hooked your legs over his broad shoulders, widening his tongue and lapping you from your core to your clit, giving the tiny bud a teasing swirl of his tongue. The moan you let out was low and full of lust, a kind of lust you'd never felt before. Magnified, overwhelming, intoxicating.

"Relax, angel," His lips brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves with each word, making your heart jump to your throat, making it almost hard to breathe.

Your hips rolled forward, pushing you against his lips, seeking more pressure, more friction. You felt so wanton, so desperate, so needy. You felt him smile against your core as his mouth engulfed you, his tongue swirling and sucking as he slowly pressed his middle finger inside you.

Your whole body stiffened and clenched around him as your mouth fell open. A string of low and soft curses fell from your lips, and your back arched against his bed as he pumped his finger in and out.

"Elijah, oh, oh fuck," your voice broke as another moan escaped you when his tongue lapped at your clit. He curled his finger up inside you, sending a ripple of heat straight up your spine.

You tipped over the edge instantly, a white-hot heat engulfing you. You came in waves, your eyes clenched shut as your head fell back into the plush comforter beneath you. Elijah didn't stop his movements, working you through your climax and beyond until your hips stilled, and your breathing leveled out.

You felt so spent, but the ache inside you only deepened, intensified. You knew what you really needed to quench the fire, you knew that Elijah was the only one who could give you that. Your fangs itched, throbbing behind your gums, ready to come out when the moment was right.

Elijah sat up, wiping his mouth and looking pleased with himself as he looked down at your naked form beneath him. You bit your lip, heat creeping into your cheeks as you smiled at him.

"That was..." you trailed off, unable to form the proper words to describe what the fuck you had just experienced.

Elijah grinned as he dipped back down and pressed a long and loving kiss to your lips. He pulled you closer as you deepened the kiss. He kissed you so sweetly and softly, his hands resting on your lower back and his tongue slowly mapping out your mouth. You hummed into his kiss as you ran your fingers down his toned back, pulling him close.

"Now, my sweet angel," Elijah murmured, tilting your face up so his dark eyes locked with yours. "Are you ready for your final lesson?"

"Yes, Elijah," you whispered, your lips brushing against his. “Please,”

Elijah took one of your legs and wrapped it around him as his cock nudged your core. He was teasing you, moving the tip up and down your slit, making your entire body quiver as he kissed down your neck, finding a spot just behind your ear and nibbling gently.

He continued this pattern, your whines becoming needy and pathetic. Elijah's smirk pressed to your skin as his fangs nipped at your shoulder. Your head rolled back, giving him more room as he suckled on your pulse point.

"Such a good student for me, always listening, always eager." He said between nips. "Are you going to keep being my good girl?"

A strangled yes fell from your lips as Elijah nudged at your entrance. You whined and panted, trying to wiggle your hips and get him to sink his cock inside you, but he only chuckled and gripped your hips, pinning you to the bed as he nuzzled your neck.

"Let's not be impatient," he whispered, the low and possessive tone in his voice made a shiver roll down your spine. "There's so much I have yet to teach you, darling."

Elijah pressed his hips forward, and you felt the tip of him press against your entrance. He moved his face away from your neck as he pressed into you.

Your hands clung to him as you braced for it, this thing, this big, scary thing you never experienced, was suddenly happening. “It's okay," he hummed, "just breathe, angel,"

Your face felt warm as you looked at him and took a deep breath. He leaned forward, kissing your lips lovingly as his hands squeezed your hips, pulling you closer, sinking deeper.

His thrusts were slow, languid, intense. Elijah held himself up on his forearms, caging you as he looked down at you. Your mouth parted as your eyes locked with his. His slow and teasing rhythm had you trembling beneath him.

"My sweet little vampire," he purred, a deep sound in the back of his throat. "So good for me."

The words of praise were too much, the sight of Elijah above you, the feeling of him inside you. Your nails raked down his back, digging into his skin, needing him closer, wanting more, desperate to consume it all. 

A sudden vampiric urge took over, and you pushed on his chest with all your strength, he chuckled and sat back, letting you take the lead with a smirk on his face. In one swift move you were straddling his lap, sinking back down onto his cock and making both of you moan.

You were running on pure instinct as you began to move your hips, trying to find the right rhythm. He cupped your ass in his hands, his thumbs stroked your skin gently as you bounced up and down on his lap.

"Like this, angel," he said softly, repositioning your knees as you gripped his shoulders. "Here," he pulled one hand away from your ass to show you the correct motion to roll your hips with, guiding you until your movements matched his instructions.

"A fast learner in all things," He purred as a grin formed on your face, making him smile in return. You kept the movement of your hips steady, trying to control the bloodlust in your peripherals. 

Your hips slowed and you leaned forward to kiss along his neck, your fangs extending, and a new feeling came over you. A hunger that couldn't be filled by blood or sex. This hunger needed both, primally, simultaneously. And it had a target.

You felt him grip you a little tighter as your hips rocked a little faster. The bed began to creak softly beneath you as you increased your rhythm, his head rolled back with a soft moan. The sound only spurred you on.

Elijah gripped the back of your head and pulled you up for a kiss. He moaned into your mouth when you swirled your hips. The movement caused your clit to rub against him, giving you that delicious friction you so badly needed.

The wild hunger was taking over, obscene bloodlust. Clouding all reasoning. Your fangs ached with a painful desire to bite him, sink into him, take his blood.

"Elijah," you murmured between kisses. You couldn't wait any longer. Your eyes were black, your fangs extended, veins dancing under your eyes, and Elijah chuckled at the look. "Elijah, can I—"

He kissed you harder, his grip on your hips tightening. "Take what you need, angel,"

A growl came from the back of your throat, and your lips went straight to his neck. The moment you sunk your fangs in his skin, he moaned deeply, making your clench around him.

Time seemed to fall away as you tasted Elijah's blood. It was rich and sweet, nothing like anything you'd ever tasted before. It felt like you were in some sort of haze, unable to stop yourself from bouncing and moaning in Elijah's lap as you fed on him. Blinded by pure and unadulterated pleasure.

It was heaven, pure and simple, the taste of him. A moan rumbled from the depths of his chest, and you felt the reverberation of his groan through his neck.

You were drunk off his blood, high off his touch. Everything about him was intoxicating. The sounds, the taste, the feeling, the sin of it all.

"Don't stop," he groaned. "Fuck, don't stop."

You couldn't even if you tried. You would never disobey an order from him. Your hips were moving at an almost inhuman pace, the taste of his blood only adding fuel to the fire inside. He was all yours, and you were his. Blood, sex, breath, skin, all intermingling. You felt his hand come up and tangle into your hair, holding you to his neck as his other hand moved to the small of your back, adjusting your rhythm to an inhuman level.

"Just like that, angel, fuck," his voice was a strangled whisper, his head rolled back as a loud, throaty groan left him.

The way his body stiffened, the way he moaned, and the way his hips snapped up into yours, his cock thrusting deep into you had you seeing stars. You were coming, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It was all too much. His blood, his cum, the feeling of him deep inside you, the taste of him on your lips, the scent of him everywhere. Everything exploded at once. White hot fire rolled over and under your skin, like you were being consumed by napalm. 

He moaned deeply as you rode out your orgasms, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you firmly pressed against his chest. You panted, trying to catch your breath as his mouth found yours, he bit down on your lip, your own blood flooding his mouth, mingling with the taste of his. Completing the connection, blood mixing, becoming one. 

You were panting, breathless, sated. But the need wasn't gone. The hunger lingered. The desire remained. You didn't think it would ever be fully quenched.

Elijah pressed a few gentle kisses to your lips before he laid down, bringing you with him. He shifted so that his softening cock slipped out of you and cradled you in his arms, kissing the top of your head as the two of you lay there in silence, catching your breath.

Your body felt exhausted and sore, but so fucking good, too. Your head was swimming as Elijah looked at you with a tender, loving gaze, a hint of pride lingering in the brown eyes that studied you. You felt your face grow hot under his scrutiny, feeling self-conscious from how intensely he was watching you.

Elijah’s fingers traced idle circles against your back, his breath warm against your temple. "You’re thinking too much, angel," he murmured, amusement laced in his voice.

You hesitated, then sighed. "I just... I don’t know what this means to you." The words felt clumsy now, uncertain in a way you hadn’t been when you had marched into his study and asked him to ruin you.

Elijah hummed, tilting his head like he was considering something. "Curious," he mused. "You certainly weren’t so hesitant when you strolled into my study and propositioned me like one might ask for a book recommendation."

The heat that bloomed across your cheeks was now traveling down your neck. "That was different."

"Was it?" He chuckled, low and indulgent. "You seemed quite certain then. So impatient, so eager. So hopelessly distracted during our lessons. Tell me, was it always lust muddling your focus, or was it just me?"

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. "I regret everything."

"No, you don’t," he countered, the smug grin evident in his voice. "But tell me, angel, why the sudden uncertainty?"

You bit your lip, the vulnerability creeping back in. "I don’t know if this was just... a lesson for you. That this is just casual,"

Elijah stilled for half a second. Just long enough for doubt to gnaw at you. Before he tipped your chin up, his eyes were dark but soft. "You are a rarity," he began, voice like silk. "Fascinating, infuriating. Bold enough to challenge me, reckless enough to walk into my study and ask the unthinkable. Do you know how long it has been since someone has surprised me?"

You swallowed hard, and he smiled. "That is why I call you angel," he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. "Because I look at you and I see heaven."

Your chest ached at the weight of his words. He had called you angel from the moment he agreed to this. He had looked at you with something unreadable, something reverent, like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world.

Elijah was right; this was a lesson for you, but not the one either of you had expected. It wasn't about control, or restraint, or blood. It was a lesson in trust, in opening your heart, and it was the last thing either of you had thought to expect.

And as Elijah leaned down and kissed you again, his hands gentle and possessive and loving all at once, you knew it was the beginning of something wonderful.

[ramblingandpie]

[Image description: screencap of tags reading #so many thoughts about the notes here

#i'm just gonna say that the civil servants i know who are just trying

to make society work are often begging for more people to opine

#there are secure white people with nothing better to do who spend

all their time making their opinions heard

#just to feel alive

#i cant guarantee anything but i know there are people in

government who would want to help your voice be heard

#if only you knew who to speak to

#so start saying what it is you need to say to everybody you might

possibly need to say it to

#and get better at saying it #and make your thoughts known

#because there are people who your thoughts matter to

#yes even in a red state

#i don't in any way believe the way our government works is ideal but

you need to use the tools that are available to you to make life bette

#civil and otherwise.

End description.]

This particular civil servant would love if folks would use alt text.

And also, yes, please send in feedback. We want to know. We need to know. Sometimes I know something is An Problem but unless people complain I am not allocated resources to fix Yon Problemme. We literally keep binders of program feedback sorted by topic. We use them to make our plans and agendas of what to work on and where to allocate resources.

We care!! We want the program to go smoothly!! And! If you're like "oh but this is a minor problem" we may genuinely have no idea!! Typically, the people who are doing the regulatory work and procedure updates and such? Are NOT the frontline staff who sees "minor" problems. Like. I see the most messed up of claims where everything has gone wrong and while yes obviously those DO need to be addressed... I also am completely out of the loop on more minor issues unless someone tells me. And sometimes it's a really easy fix!!! Or it's something we can incorporate into something else we're working on!!! And I try to be proactive (like... if I'm working on an update for A Chonker Of A Problem, I try to reach out to people who deal even remotely with that problem and ask them to please tell me any and all issues they run into, because like... if I have to remake a form? I'd rather do it right????)

Anyway wow this has turned into a rant but yes there are definitely civil servants who care. Most of us, I reckon.

Strongly recommend calling your reps and freaking out on the phone, both as a self care practice and so they can know that their normally chill constituents are saying things like “I guess if I can’t teach kindergarten teachers to be nicer anymore I shall have to become a bonus army”

[angelltheninth]

Hey I saw your different types of love confessions, I’m not sure if you wanted specific ones for each character or one type of confession for each character… but nonetheless it would be cute to see them if the Batboys, however you feel like!

Don't worry, I have an idea of what to do with this one.

Pairing: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne x Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, love confession, first kiss, cuddles, flirting, realization of feelings

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Love the Batboys letting themselves feel love and be loved. They need that a whole lot in canon.

Dick writes you a note confessing his feelings, it takes him several days but he's trying to get it just right. There are a lot of feelings that he has about you so rather than just one piece of paper it ends up as several. By the time he's done it's not so much a note as it is an essay. Might be easier to just tell you his feelings instead. And he would if his brothers didn't rat him out and pushed him to give you the... love essay since he spent so much time writing it.

Jason acts like it's no big deal that he has feelings for you. A crush is a passing thing and he thought it would leave him after you've been fooling around for a few months, but it only caused his feelings to increase. It's fine, no big deal, he just, you know, really cares about you and he wants you to know that in case he dies again and doesn't get to say it. But don't blow this confession out of proportion, it's not the first time he's fallen in love, might be the last though.

Tim didn't mind getting all cuddly with you on the couch when you asked him to stay the night. The two of you have been flirting back and forth for some time, but neither really voices your feelings out loud. It was a comfortable state that you were both in, but on the couch and in the relationship. But he was tired, he was cozy, he was all warm and happy with you holding him and so he turned to you, looked you in the eyes and told you he loved you.

Damian kisses you unexpectedly and refuses to elaborate further for weeks. The relationship between you two is left in absolute limbo because he is stubborn and refuses to talk about his feelings. It was up to you to literally trap him and confront him about it and even then he pretended not to know what you were talking about. When he heard that you were asked out by someone else he demanded to know who was flirting with his beloved.

[clerk427]

Fishing in the Void

[ladyrosemone]

Feeling

Using Google Translate here!🗣‼️‼️ Sorry for any spelling mistakes or inconsistencies, I'm working on fixing them and improving 🥺 My first person to tag! This is for you @softycheol, @jsprien213

I am hungry I have been hungry I was born hungry, what do I need? - Abbey, Mitski.

It's not your fault, it's not your fault.

The bathroom mirror covers half of the wall, it is a spider web that catches you with your worst enemy; the silence, your own mind.

The air feels heavy, closed, the bathroom (bigger than your own room in this house) is collapsing around you but the walls are still there, you feel like everything is collapsing on you but no one else can see it.

Or they don't care, and that's worse.

Why aren't they interested? Why don't they see you? Why between them and not with you? What's wrong with you?

"I think we both know all those answers"

The voice your voice echoes and is firm; You look serene, neat, with perfect posture and a face of steel, you look how you want to see yourself while you feel miserable.

"It's not fair" you whisper, trying to breathe, but tears and snot get stuck in your throat.

"Poor you, everyone is against you, right?" The tone your tone is sarcastic, mocking in a cruel way "What a shame, really, how sad"

For a moment you feel heard, understood by your mind, validated.

"If you really felt it"

You look up so hard that your neck hurts, you look in surprise at your reflection, which looks back at you with indifference, cold satire as if your suffering were its entertainment.

"What...?"

"Enough, stop this pathetic act, behave with dignity for once and not like a puppy looking for attention" Your breathing is erratic, fogging up the thin glass like the breath of a dragon or the proximity of a lit match.

That's how you feel, like a fire that gains strength inside you, that burns your intestines in order to free itself, to burn your bones, burn your skin, extinguish you and burn everything else.

"You're nothing ashamed, but that's in your blood"

"It's not true, I'm worthy"

"Worthy of what? Of attention? Of belonging? You were never worthy of anything" your words are harsh, hitting you physically and mentally "You never deserved it"

"You lie, I deserve it more than anyone"

"You just want to take and take, does that fill the emptiness in your stomach? In your heart?"

"Fuck your metaphors! You don't know shit!"

"Oh but I know" you whisper, smiling with all your teeth, beautiful and terrifying "Who but your mind knows what you really want; what you need"

"You don't give a shit about family, it was never your interest, that's why you let mom be kidnapped, and how well it turned out for you, right? Being rescued by a billionaire"

"Stop!"

"And the sad attempts to 'connect' with him, what did you really expect, a father and daughter relationship? You don't know what a father is, you don't know how to feel what you've never felt"

"Enough"

"Those children went through the same thing as you, dead father dead mother, and not even they considered you worthy of company! How humiliating can that be?!"

Your cries are ignored again.

"Child after child, further and further down the hall, and you cared? God no! Did it hurt you? Not at all, because you don't feel anything for these guys! You're angry that they didn't fall into your hands like the whores and the boss did when mom was no longer around!"

"Say it! Say that you love control! That you want to have everything because you feel like you have nothing! No matter how many awards you win, how many diplomas you have, how many skills you strengthen, YOU WILL NEVER BE SATISFIED!"

¡CRASH!

That didn't even hurt, and when the next person who entered the bathroom only saw the broken glass with the mark of a blow in the middle and blood staining the carpet down the hallway.

Now the new glass is small, it decorates the bathroom of your small house on the outskirts of Gotham, it barely covers your face and part of your collarbones.

Your reflection no longer sees you as insignificant, no, now you see yourself, now you are the reflection.

That didn't fill the void either.

[genderisareligion]

The elusive "TERF" is actually just a mirror

All its devotees know is projection. When I started this blog in late 2020 I more frequently used the tag #DARVO in action to start keeping track of the blatant lies TRAs spew that are really just a tell about their crowd (DARVO = Deny Attack Reverse Victim Offend, a strategy used often by DV abusers) and I just have to start making this cumulative post because:

They're now saying John Money was a radical feminist. Lmfao 💀 The male cracker extraordinaire (we don't even think males can be feminists let alone human most of the time) most responsible for the word gender's mistranslation as something that describes human behavior rather than the behavior of languages (most of which aren't even English), the idiot torturer who's a major reason the intersex community has to guard itself so fiercely against "normative" surgeries, who once claimed that anyone skeptical of his "girl = pink, boy = blue, I must fix anyone else" theories actually just believed that "masculinity and femininity are baked into the genes and women should get back to the kitchen" (sound familiar? What are "TERFs" always being accused of?) Like bro that's you

"TERFs are fascists who need everyone to fit into the male or the female box" actually gender abolition would mean no more boxes besides the purely categorical chromosomal ones we can't help from birth, and actually trying to force everyone to fall somewhere on a scale of femininity and masculinity and positing intersex conditions as the "middle" creates an unnecessary dichotomy amongst particularly females, where a woman born with PCOS is considered "less female" than one without regardless of how she "identifies," and the more "masculine" you are (whatever that even means) the more your body requires meds and surgery.

"TERFs align with fascists" but y'all are the ones with the Big Pharma billions paving your way so lol sorry not sorry but as a Negro it's giving the way they used to experiment on us for profit, refine their methods for research and leave us for dead or permanently disabled. And y'all think it's empowering? You think they actually care that you're personally fulfilled? You think they won't pull another Henrietta Lacks? You think all these detrans people are just flukes? They'll take your thousands of dollars until you're in debt and pump you full of more dubious "treatment" as long as it means they get to keep quietly going home to their white picket fences where all their loved ones are fine pretending they're heroes rather than profiting off others' pain. What is fascism if not allowing the medical establishment to "correct undesirables"?

"TERFs are Nazis" but the "first ever transgender surgery" on "trans woman" Lillie Ebe was performed by literal fucking Nazi Erwin Gohrbrandt who believed "mentally ill people were considered 'feeble-minded' (this was an actual, formal term) and homosexuals were considered to also be 'feeble-minded' and have inferior genes." Fun fact, Lillie was also a fucking Nazi.

"TERFs are all white supremacists" but everyone I just mentioned up there is a fucking white supremacist and not even Google agrees with you there, searches for the word TERF are done almost entirely in Western nations like the US and UK, whereas searches for radfem are balanced worldwide and in fact an African country is #1 on one of those lists, and you can't argue that those searches are by TERFs themselves because "try Googling TERF right now and seeing how many if any positive references show up"

I have more after 4 years lol but lemme cook

[serickswrites]

Heyyyy friend, i am feeling really crummy and I don't know if it's just allergies or not but because of that I was hoping I could ask for a Hero x Villain sickfic where Hero is the sick one?

Hey friend, sorry you are feeling so poorly. Please enjoy!

Warnings: fever

Hero felt disgusting. They had sweated through their thin shirt and had soaked their bed. They were too exhausted from their fever to get up and change the sheets. But they didn't want to lay in their soiled linens any longer.

Their doorbell rang, interrupting their debate to get up or remain in bed. Hero groaned. They didn't want to see anyone. The bell rang again.

"Coming," they grumbled. They slowly stumbled out of bed and shuffled through their home to the door. "What do you want," they grumbled again as they opened the door to see Villain standing there.

"I heard you were sick." Villain brushed past Hero into the foyer. "I'm here to take care of you since I'm sure you refused everyone else's help."

Hero glared at Villain. They were, of course, right. But that didn't mean Hero had to accept their help. "I--"

"Don't feel well. Yes, you look sick. Go lay on the couch. I'm going to draw you a cool bath to bring your fever down. While you're in there, I'll make you some soup." Villain stared at Hero expectantly.

Hero realized that Villain was serious. Tears pricked at the corner of their eyes. "Why are you being nice to me?"

"Because you won't be nice to yourself. Someone's got to be nice to you, Hero. May as well be me."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat

[utilitycaster]

If you don’t like the show or the person who is the dm just don’t fucking watch jfc you’re annoying

You know, I realized that a lot of people don't understand how critique works, so let's critique this ask! Now, first off, it might be from someone on mobile in which case statcounter isn't helpful, but if it is from someone on desktop they are most likely from a place called Belper, England, in Derbyshire, who looked at a post where I dunked on Bells Hells in the tags (if you are cool and are the person from Belper then my apologies; this is why I am not posting IP address or making fun of Belper, despite it being named Belper).

First: "if you don't like the show" - technically speaking, I was interested enough in Campaign 3 to finish it and my assessment comes from having watched the full thing and come to a conclusion that it was pretty bad. I also have very much liked Matt as a DM in past campaigns; my statements this morning based on both the ending of C3 and fireside chat revealing that this campaign was uniquely poorly planned and run. I do like over 2/3rds of what he's DM-ed. It really is Campaign 3 is bad, everything else is basically fine. Anyway I've already watched, so can't undo that, so I think your actual problem is that you don't want me talking about it. This is interesting to me, because you're not taking your own advice - if you don't like my blog, why read it? Finally, I am very annoying and pride myself on this quality; again, if this is an issue, it seems like not reading my blog would help. This also seems like a weird choice after I made a post like, specifically mentioning people who suck by name and guessing at who anon hate might be from? Like I guess I'm wondering what your goal was here. Not enough to hear from you again but you know, generally.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Random but I love how you treat ships you hate and shippers of ships you hate, every time I see someone (usually) on twt being an ass for no reason about shipping, I remember "oh yeah, not everyone's unreasonably insane about this." and it becomes less depressing to deal with. You're like a fandom behavior rolemodel 👍

There just isn't really a reason to be mean to people for something like that, you know? There are ships that straight up give me radiation poisoning (look through my blog, you'll figure out which ones they are lol). You know what I do? I block the ship tags and move along lol. I don't seek any content out, here or anywhere else. Nor do I go out of my way to bother people who like those ships. What's there to gain from being an asshole to randos? What was their crime? Liking something I don't?

All shipping is, at the end of the day, is... playing dollhouse. There's no sense in getting mad at people for making the "wrong" dolls kiss. Plenty of people don't like BurningCheese (unbelievably disappointing but it's ok) or any other ships I like, and that's fine. I have friends, acquaintances, mutuals, followers and what-have-you who don't like my ships and who like ships I don't. It's no skin off my nose. Live and let live. They're talking cookies from a phone game, what does it matter lol (and you can apply this logic to any fandom, really. It's all make-believe, why get so bent out of shape about it?)

Like, I know I sound upset when I DO happen to bring up ships I want to set on fire, but it's honestly not a big deal haha. I exaggerate my tone online because Internet Time is Silly Time for me. I truly do not care if you like Sh*dowSp*ce or H*llyt*ya or whatever else. I just want to be here focusing on stuff I DO like. Writing my BurningCheese fics and making my little BurningCheese family and gushing over BurningCheese and ShadowVanilla and PitayaFire and (insert other ships I like here). Happiness is the best revenge, as the saying goes haha

TL;DR: I try to live by this wise saying, and I think everyone else should, too:

[on-a-lucky-tide]

As someone who wants to join the fandom more but it’s too scared to do so, I’m wondering how did you cultivated this community…? It’s so sweet to watch the way you talk to others and helping their works and such. How did you meet like…??? people ??? Like I always see you tagging the artists (ngl I found your blog because of Gomz) and I’d really want to learn, I’ve tried joining previous fandoms and it was always too competitive in some sense, like everyone was busy pushing their works for likes and retweets (maybe it’s more of a twitter thing)

Oh yeah. That's a Twitter thing. Twitter is a cesspit and I only go there for porn. The whole thing is set up to make people feel shite because people that feel shite scroll for longer/look at more adverts. Lock your account, bud. You'll feel a lot better.

But everywhere else? Gratitude and humility. Also, understanding what I wanted from fandom; a small community that hypes each other and encourages new people. Those are my bros (non-gendered). My Cakeshop Bros I found five years ago in fandom; they have slept in my spare bedroom, I've gone drinking, played boardgames, and we laid on the floor in London in a space art installation near Soho being weirdos drunk off our heads. Not just fandom friends now, friends for life.

When I first started posting for CoD, I was dead nervous as I'd been stung in a previous fandom. People took a chance on me as a new person; they reblogged my work with the sweetest tags. They hyped me. They took the time out of their day for a stranger, and they didn't have to. They coulda just read it and moved on. So, I said thank you in their inbox, or in their DMs. We started talking more, I was a bit weird and they vibed back. They are also good people. Genuinely. You mentioned Gomz; literally, so kind, so sweet. Deserves the world.

When I can, I make sure I hype them back; I wish I could do more but my job is absolute pig in terms of time. It's mock season (now over, woohoo) so I have a backlog of fics to catch up on - Nekro, Mikey, T, Oliv, Nikkie, Hexx, Gomz (who I deffo know have written), but there are probably more! I'll set a few hours aside over half term with a beer and crack on.

Also, I guarantee everyone is as nervous as you are. Everyone gets imposter syndrome. And also, everyone gets jealous. Jealousy is a natural human emotion that you need to process into something productive. "I'm jealous" = "this person is really fucking good, has worked hard, I'm gonna encourage them and learn from them because they clearly know their shit". Reframing rather than ignoring or letting it fester. They're just people after all and probably shitting themselves as much as I was.

I also guarantee you I am not everyone's cup of tea. And that's ok. Letting go of the burning desire to be liked by all, sometimes at the expense of my own bloody happiness and seeing it as a personal failing if I wasn't, was probably one of the most powerful things I did for myself over the last five years. The only thing I care about in regards to others is if I acted with integrity and kindness (not necessarily niceness). That's all I can control.

Sorry, mate. That came off as a bit of a rant! But uh, don't be scared. Keep reaching out. Be feral.

[ally1uvsu]

The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury | Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x Nam-gyu

⨉⠀⠀─⠀⠀Series .⠀›⠀Trans Namgyu Week 2025⠀‎ꪆৎ day 6; Body Worship/Overstimulated sex — Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

·⠀warnings info⠀· NSFW — . wc; 11.6k (yeah..)

Summary; Nam-gyu was broke, and that was no secret. But what would happen if he went into a party with See-mi who was accompanying her rich girlfriend? Maybe it was a bad idea, but maybe not so much more of one after meeting a certain purple haired man.

Tags; Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Sugar daddy thanos, Except they meet in a party and it only becomes a title after they bang, Trans Namgyu (Squid Game), Thanos is referred as choi su-bong, Namgyu-centric (Squid Game), Tbh I swap their povs a lot, Bottom Namgyu (Squid Game), Namgyu Wears Glasses (Squid Game), Pathetic Namgyu (Squid Game), Top Choi Subong I Thanos, Namgyu is a law student, He's also really broke, Semi and Namgyu are best friends, House Party, Business Party, Car Sex, Kind Of, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms, Unsafe Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Boypussy, Drinking, Smoking, Safe Sane and Consensual, Riding, Missionary Position, Doggy Style, they go multiple rounds, Creampie, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Body Worship, Se-mi and Mi-na are gfs, Dirty Talk Namgyu is referred by his name properly, Orgasm Edging, Accidental, well kind of, Sexual Overstimulation, Overstimulated Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Religious analogies (unsure how else to put this lol), DID SOMEBODY SAYYYYYYY SERVICE TOP THANOS? 😻, Crying, Dacryphilia, They're so fucking gay I hate them, Thanos is just a little mean, he's also whipped, Love at first sight ahh type of shit, Soft Choi Subong | Thanos, Aftercare, Butt Slapping, this is so foul im sorry, Downright DIRTY too, Possessive Choi Subong I Thanos, Idk if it's is a kink or if he genuinely likes to see his cum drip out, THIS SOUNDED WEIRD SORRY, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Author Regrets Everything, Slut Shaming, There are a lot of mood swings, Rough Sex, But Also Gentle Sex, Hair-pulling, Kinky, Praise Kink

Notes; OH MY FUCK IM FINALLY DONE I’VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR HOURSSSSSS 😭😭🙏 enjoy guys… This might cover for the whole week altho I have a day left.. sighs! Also me and my 75 tags against the world smh!

Nam-gyu was burnt out, it was the easiest way to put this. He had to study and work, and his life basically revolved around that. He would spend countless hours studying for his exams and doing assignments everywhere and anywhere— which is how he ended up in this situation.

"Nam-gyu, I get it. You're in college, but you have to pay attention to work." His manager said frustrated, hell, what was the problem with that? He couldn't even use this phone and the store was practically empty all the damn time. He only worked here because when he saved up it covered his college tuitions.. ignoring how he was nearly getting evicted from his apartment.

"This is the tenth time, Nam-gyu. Not the second or third, tenth. You've been warned before." Nam-gyu gritted his teeth, hands clasped behind his back as he bowed along with a murmured apology, not that he was sorry. His manager and this store could all go to hell in his honest opinion.

"You know I don't have any time to do my school work or study— plus, the store is always empty." Nam-gyu said with a frustrated sigh, tucking his hair that was already greasy behind his ears. He heard the older and grumpy man in front of him take a deep breath, and this was where he knew he would be jobless. "Alright, you have to pick between that or your job. You surely must have more time to study and do your.. homework."

Was it dumb to quit his job when it was his only source of money? More than definitely. But Nam-gyu couldn't care less anymore, taking off the vest he was given to be identified as an employee and tossing it on the floor, Nam-gyu stared at him in the eyes. It was no wonder nobody ever wanted to work here, no wonder this place was constantly fucking short staffed. "Yeah? Well, fuck you too." Nam-gyu spat as he snatched his bag and pushed the door of the shop open.

It was terribly stupid to be upset over something like this, and he knew it was. But life wasn't doing him anything good, he was far more than broke, he was nearly getting in debt. Sure, his job covered his college tuitions but it didn't change the fact that he still had bills to cover for his apartment.

Nam-gyu loved to study, always had. He was the smart kid back in his high school years and below, but now getting burnt out was inevitable. He couldn't find the motivation to study, all of the times he studied at work and at home was him forcing himself to make his money worth.

He watched the sun beginning to set in the horizon, creating an otherwise peaceful atmosphere. The breeze felt soft as it brushed against his hair, he stared through the leaves of the trees as the dimming gaps of sunlight reached his face. Was this all really worth it?

Staring ahead of him, he saw someone's face stamped on the billboard. Something about this guy being a billionaire and hosting some party for the rich. Screw them, screw all of the rich who care about no one but themselves. Screw that fucking purple haired man on that billboard who had that damn smile on his face.

They were all just privileged little shits in the end, either they lived off of a family fortune or because of that fortune they smoothly went through college and graduated, it wasn't fair.

But maybe life never would be fair on him, and that's okay, too. He could just find another job and keep studying, become a lawyer.. or something. He crossed the street, his feet feeling heavier than they normally felt. His brain was seconds from blowing up, and he knew damn well those bills would be there to haunt him the second he went back to his apartment.

People all around were laughing and giggling, kids, adults, couples.. he wished he had a shred of what they had.

Truly, Nam-gyu always had to fend for himself. His mom was never around and his dad died when he was eight, leaving him all by himself. He had no siblings, which he was mostly grateful for because he could barely care for himself. But then there was his mom— when he came out as trans, it just got worse. If she wasn't present in his life previously, a day after she had vanished.

He had to pick himself up financially, learn how to get his shit together, and carry on.

Gripping his bag tighter, he turned the corner to his apartment complex. Getting through the gatekeeper that stood there mostly doing nothing, Nam-gyu began going up the long stairs to the fifth floor since the already rusty elevator broke.

The routine was tiring, but Nam-gyu didn't have a choice. Even if he was in the bottom of the pit, he had to work something out.

He reached for his keys, hearing the comforting jingle as he reached for the door '631', sliding it in the lock and turning. The door creaked open in a loud noise, but it felt otherwise grounding. Once that was done, he slid it back out and tucked them safely in his pocket, stepping in and letting out another heavy sigh as he stared at the pile of letters on the entrance floor.

Tossing his bag aside with what probably was frustration, maybe anger.. he kicked his shoes off, sliding down the door and leaning his head in his hands. It was as if the universe was testing him, maybe life was just insistent on dragging him down.

Maybe Nam-gyu all along was meant to be nothing in the end, forced to go with the flow.

A few minutes passed, they felt like an eternity in his mind. The air was suffocating, his responsibilities were. Yet even then, albeit the nagging headache and the soreness in his muscles, Nam-gyu reached for the stupid pile of letters before he ended up falling asleep in that position.

He teared the letters open one by one, some were just newspapers, some were just bills, bills, and more fucking bills. They were all just tossed aside, uncaring about how he was drowning in them. 

Nam-gyu should have felt relieved that he reached the last letter, but he felt upset even further as he checked the contents on that last one. A fucking eviction letter— what fault did he have if he couldn't cover college and a place to live? Shit, somedays he would have to eat half of a fucking ramen and leave the other for later or tomorrow.

It was all infuriating. 

It pissed him off how people who didn't have a proper condition had to be squashed like bugs by filthy rich people or people who had some kind of sustenance. It wasn't fair how people who were perfectly fine looked down upon people like Nam-gyu, none of it was fair.

He ripped the letter in his hands, standing up as he tossed it aside. Maybe he could smoke a cigarette? Those normally always worked whenever he was stressed. But then again, he needed to go out to the supermarket and buy some more.

He checked his savings box, it was barely enough to pay his tuition.. shit. It all bubbled up in his damn veins, and before he could even realize he was being driven by his own rage again, he was tossing a glass cup against the wall.

The sound of it shattering brought him back to reality, watching the shards fly everywhere. Maybe he just needed some air, yeah.. maybe that's what he needed. 

Reaching for the pair of glasses he kept above his nightstand, slamming the door of his apartment shut and not even bothering to lock it as he ran down the flight of stairs.

He was supposed to have a meeting with the landlord roughly around now, but it didn't mention anything about it being fucking mandatory. This wouldn't cover his tuition, he would need another paycheck. So, with a few money he grabbed from that stupid piggy bank, Nam-gyu began making his way towards a convenience store. 

Getting himself some cigarettes would probably make it better, along with some food since his stomach was rumbling and growling. He pushed past some people, unsure as of why he was running. He took in a heavy breath as he finally reached the crosswalk, only then realizing his legs burnt and his breath was uneven.

The light flicked red finally, and he began crossing. Only jumping back when a car sped through without a bother, making him audibly gasp as his money fell on a puddle of water. "Shit! You asshole! Watch where the fuck you're driving towards!" He called out towards the car that had already left, grabbing his money with a bunch of 'No's spilling from his lips.

Inside the car, Su-bong's head snapped towards the window with a furrow of his brow, was someone.. shouting at his driver? "What was that?" He asked as he looked away from the window, fingers pausing at the keyboard on his laptop.

"Nothing, sir. It was just merely a pedestrian who tried to cross in the wrong timing." The man replied, unbothered. Currently, Su-bong was on the way to that little business party he was hosting to discuss a few.. matters. It wasn't the best thing in the world, matter of fact, it was boring as fuck. But whatever kept the money going, he guessed.

"How long until we get there? We have to get there before our guests." Su-bong said with the same calm tone of voice, matching it to how the man driving had been speaking. "Around ten minutes, Mr.Choi. Don't worry, I'll make sure you get there before your awaited guests."

Su-bong hummed in response and in approval, focusing once again on the stocks open on his laptop. At least there would be drinks there, and likely a bunch of gossip, maybe this night wouldn't be entirely boring. (Even if he knew this expectation would likely lead him towards deception.)

Across the street already, Nam-gyu was trying to figure out ways to dry the money in his hands. None of these cheap stores had fucking dryers in the bathroom, normally, Nam-gyu wouldn't mind. But he needed that now more than ever.

His eyes lit up as he caught sight of a fancy store not too far away from him, he had his fingers crossed that they had a bathroom. And just to his luck, they did!

He stood there for some time, ignoring the bubbling heat in his hands as the air did some favor into drying the won bills. Some people passed by and looked at him weirdly, but they didn't matter as much as his money.

While standing there, Nam-gyu got some time to think. Maybe he should quit college for once and for all? Law was something he liked to study, but then, if he didn't graduate.. he could only get so far.

His gaze was far away, focused on a point in the wall while waiting for the money to dry at least a little bit. For some time, the pain and the heat became unbearable eventually. But lucky for him, they had dried well.

A breath of relief was punched out of Nam-gyu's lungs as he tucked the money inside his pocket, he really didn't feel like facing his landlord who was likely inside his apartment waiting for him right this moment.

Now, all he had to do was go to the convenience store. Maybe he would quit college in the end, use whatever was in his savings for the tuition to pay rent and find himself another job.

Now that he had that done, he could finally stop getting those weird stares. Feeling a little bit more lighter, Nam-gyu got out of the bathroom. Hopefully, they would accept the money back at the store. Maybe he could meet up with Se-mi later today and have a few drinks like they normally did on days like this.

Pulling his phone out, he dialed the all too familiar numbers and brought it up to his ear, walking while looking at his own feet. A small smile sprouted on his lips as he heard Se-mi's voice, it sounded.. faint, she was probably previously sleeping. "Shit.. what the hell do you want?" What a ray of sunshine, Se-mi really was an amazing friend.

"I'm about to drop around the convenience store, you down for tonight?" Nam-gyu asked, feeling weirdly hopeful. Maybe these were the small joys of his life, moments like this where he could just drink away his worries and get high. 

"..I was kind of going out today, shit— the time, fuck!" Nam-gyu furrowed his brows as he eyed the time, did she have a date or something? "You got a date or something?"

He chuckled as he heard the rustling sounds across the phone, and the loud clatter of the girl's phone against what Nam-gyu assumed was her nightstand. "Yeah, something like that!.." 

Well, looks like everyone was getting someone for this valentine's day. Even Se-mi, and she was younger than him. Maybe Nam-gyu would die alone at this point. "Who's the unlucky girl?"

"Shit, didn't I tell you? Crap, I must have forgotten.." Se-mi trailed off, yanking her closet open as she began going through her clothes. "I began dating this one girl, Mi-na. I don't know how the hell I bagged her but she's one of those rich ass people, y'know?"

What.

"Wait, what? Say that shit again?" Now this was just Nam-gyu being utterly unlucky, Se-mi wasn't even in debt and got a rich girlfriend! Sure, he's gay and all that jazz but he really needed that money.

"Yeah, I know, right? I found out two days ago when she asked me to go out with her to this party today." He heard the younger girl scoff, and Nam-gyu was completely dumbfounded. "You really took getting a sugar mommy seriously." Nam-gyu said with a chuckle, hearing a few muffled curses spill from Se-mi's mouth.

"You wanna come?" Se-mi asked suddenly, and Nam-gyu actually froze on spot this time. It wasn't the best idea.. Nam-gyu didn't have clothes or whatever, he would feel completely out of place there. "Uh.. I- shit, why would I? I'd be completely out of place there."

"Well, I feel bad now, of course." Nam-gyu rolled his eyes, he'd think it was because she'd feel lonely, but of course not. "Damn, you hurt my feelings like this."

"Come on, Nam! If you'd feel out of place, imagine me. Plus, we can shit talk together, enjoy fancy shit, and I don't know— live a little. Plus, maybe you can find yourself a rich man over there." Nam-gyu let out a nervous chuckle, shit. This was a bad idea, but it wasn't like he could go back to his house today, anyway.

"I don't even have proper clothing." Nam-gyu stated anyways, which was true. And even if he did— again, he couldn't go home. "You can borrow some suit of mines." Se-mi retorted back, and he could practically see her standing there with a hand on her hip.

"I'm nowhere near your house, and even then your girlfriend probably would be bothered." 

"We can pick you up, and she told me I could invite someone over if I wanted to."

"You'll both be late if you wait for me to get ready."

"She can wait, the party doesn't have a timing to end."

"But—" Maybe Se-mi was a little bit too good at these kind of arguments, whenever he threw in an excuse, she'd have a perfect solution for it. Which sometimes just would make him say no.

"All I'm hearing is excuses, excuses, and more excuses, Nam. Just get your ass over here already before I give up on you already, jeez." Se-mi complained with a tinge of annoyance, and Nam-gyu did go.

—

"Se-mi, I really don't think this is a good idea." Maybe he shouldn't have come here, after all. His head was tilted back as Se-mi applied some sort of.. whatever is it that she was doing in his eye. The clothes, even if they fit him, were a tad uncomfortable. But at least his hair wasn't greasy anymore, he felt overly fancy when he shouldn't even be here. It was a weird kind of feeling.

"Shh, stay quiet, I'm nearly done. Mi-na will be here soon." Se-mi scolded, running the tip of her brush with black eyeshadow along Nam-gyu's upper eyelash line. It wasn't really makeup, just something more to enhance Nam-gyu's eyes. Naturally, he already had eyes that kind of resembled a cat's, all Se-mi really had to do was make them pop off just a bit more.

 "I really shouldn't be going, tho—" Nam-gyu said with an impatient whine as Se-mi finally pulled away, and Nam-gyu managed to pull his neck forward. Rubbing the back of his already sore neck, he stared at Se-mi who was standing there, proud of her work. "You. Look. Stunning!" She said with a grin, and Nam-gyu stood up to stare at himself in the mirror, technically, she wasn't wrong.

Maybe Nam-gyu could let himself enjoy this evening and let go of his troubles and worries for a bit.

"Yeah, yeah. I guess." Nam-gyu said with an amused smile, and Se-mi already began putting her stuff away. "See? It will be fun! We'll go, drink, get high, and have fun together while drinking rich people shit, what else could be better than that?"

"Yeah.. you know what? You're not wrong." Nam-gyu said along with a hum of approval, fixing his tie for the tenth time. "My question is why the hell do you have two suits?"

Se-mi wasn't wearing a dress, she was wearing a suit just like his, save for the fact it was black and his was navy blue. According to her, dresses were too much of a fuss and you can move freely in a suit. Nam-gyu couldn't necessarily disagree with her. "Dunno, I like both colors. I have both just so I could have an option of colors."

Nam-gyu nodded after a long dragged and low 'ahh..', they would have been silent if it wasn't for the soft buzzing of Se-mi's phone. While the other finished whatever she was doing, Nam-gyu reached for her phone to see the name of contact tagged as 'Princess'. It made him cringe internally but.. the girl Se-mi's dating is indeed pretty, that he couldn't deny.

"Here, your little girlfriend is calling you." Nam-gyu said with a face feigning disgust, and Se-mi simply rolled her eyes as she snatched her phone back the same second she shut her bathroom cabinet. "Hey, you here already?"

Nam-gyu didn't bother picking up on the details, instead, he focused on fixing his tie for the tenth time already in front of the mirror. Fidgeting with his rings and pushing his glasses back from the tip of his nose. 

"Alright, let's get going. She's outside." Se-mi called out as she slid her shoes on by the entrance, turning the doorknob open. Nam-gyu was quick to ease his shoes on, being somewhat glad that he and Se-mi wore the same size of shoes. Their clothes were close enough, he assumed.

Trailing closely after Se-mi who was still busy on her phone, he took the chance to look out the window to try and spot any car out there that could be waiting for them. Maybe she wasn't here yet and just really close?

Stepping outside, Nam-gyu was met with the fresh breeze for the third time of the day. This time, though, the sun was far gone. The stars danced across the sky and the lampposts reflected a warm light on the sidewalks, creating a cozy atmosphere.

Not even two minutes of standing later, Nam-gyu caught side of a fucking Bugatti turning the corner. Shit, even if Nam-gyu saved up all of his money altogether, he could barely reach the bottom of what that Se-mi's girlfriend likely spent on this.

"Bring up your jaw, we'll both be seeing more than this, Nam." Se-mi said with a laugh, opening the passenger door and sliding in. It took Nam-gyu a few seconds to recompose himself, but then he also got inside the car.

It smelled like luxury, not that Nam-gyu was used to it. But it was a nice smell as overwhelming as it was. To the side, he could see Se-mi greeting the girl he had seen on the phone a few seconds ago, presumably her girlfriend. "Ew, I'm here too, y'know." Nam-gyu huffed as the car began to move.

"Right, right. Sorry." Se-mi grumbled as she reluctantly pulled away, and Mi-na's face finally came into full view. She eyed him up and down before smiling, nudging Se-mi's arm and whispering something inaudible to her, to which Se-mi nodded.

"You must be Nam-gyu, right?" Mi-na said when she pulled back, extending her hand for Nam-gyu to shake, and he did. She was.. nice, that's what he could tell right off the bat. Maybe a little mean and sassy, but otherwise nice.

He wouldn't have thought she was much fun, but in matter of seconds, the trio was laughing as the car nearly reached their destination. Nam-gyu covered his mouth with his hand as another laugh bubbled up in his chest, and Se-mi looked happy that they were well.. getting along well.

"You know, Nam-gyu. With that face of yours and your sense of humor, you might end up finding someone to fund you out there." Mi-na suggested with a mischievous glint in her eyes, it made Nam-gyu suspect that she was probably making up a plan in the back of her mind.

"Nah, I wouldn't think so. All of these fancy ass people in there and someone would like a broke college student? Pfft, no way." Mi-na immediately gasped at that, smacking his hand away as she observed his face. "Nonsense! I mean, you do have a very beautiful face. I don't think money counts when you can sway the heart of anyone there." 

"Can't say I disagree with that, Nam." Se-mi butted in, hand resting lightly on her girlfriend's waist as she pulled the other down to her sit. "Just saying, if you end up on someone's bed tonight, don't call me. I'll leave you to be because your broke ass does need some money ASAP."

"What an amazing friend.." Nam-gyu uttered under his breath as he changed his gaze from the two girls towards the window, right timing. He caught a glimpse of a huge fucking building outside, and if it wasn't fancy Nam-gyu didn't fucking exist.

"Okay, now I'm 100% we'll feel out of place here." Nam-gyu said as he snapped his head towards Se-mi, and Mi-na simply waved her hand as she crossed her arms. "Relax, normally business parties like this rarely involves business unless you bring it up. It's just a bunch of rich people gathering and shit talking while getting drunk."

Not that it made anything any easier.. but Nam-gyu swallowed the lump in his throat as he nodded. The car eventually halted in front of the gate as the driver handed a neatly made paper roll to which the gatekeeper opened, checking it, and then finally allowing their entrance.

Stepping out of the car, Nam-gyu adjusted his clothes at least for the tenth time only in an hour. Se-mi and Mi-na intertwined their arms together, and Nam-gyu just kind of tagged along by Se-mi's side.

The people here smelled expensive, they acted expensive as if it clung to them like a second skin. Every step they gave while passing by them, Nam-gyu couldn't help but feel smaller and smaller. His fingers fidgeted with one of his rings, he was unsure how the other girl seemed so at ease.

The laughter was filling the air, rich sounding laughter to which Nam-gyu nearly cringed to. All of this people were probably filthy rich, a kind of luxury Nam-gyu likely would never experience once in his life. But his thoughts were snapped away as he sat down on some couch nearby the pool as his two companions sat down.

"Jeez, this feels overwhelming." Nam-gyu complained with a huff, tucking his hair back behind his ears. Mi-na simply laughed, head leaned on Se-mi's shoulder as she grabbed a glass of wine from some waitress that was moving around. "You'll get used to it, just have a couple of drinks and you'll be just fine. People here aren't that bad, some may be snobby but in the end.. they're just other people, too."

Well, that made Nam-gyu feel more at ease. His fingers wrapped lightly around the bottom of the glass, bringing the cup towards his lips as he took a sip. The taste was bitter, it made Nam-gyu initially grimace, but then he was slowly drinking it. Getting used to the taste which after all, wasn't that bad.

"I'll be back, m'kay?" Mi-na said with a giggle as she kissed Se-mi's cheek before darting off somewhere. Nam-gyu took this opportunity to slide closer to the girl, sighing as he tilted his head back. "I was supposed to have a meeting with my landlord today, I mean, I got an eviction letter."

Se-mi paused, raising her brow. "Is it because of the rent you barely ever pay?" Nam-gyu hummed as he nodded, taking another sip of the bitter wine coating his tongue. "Might quit college because of it."

"You know you can stay by my place as much time as you need, right?" Nam-gyu nodded once again, but either way, he wouldn't have enough to pay the tuition anyways. "It's fine, I won't be able to pay the tuition anyways." He shrugged, pausing as his eyes flickered to the people loudly speaking with a small grin. "Ay, you see that woman over there? Look at where her hand's going.."

Se-mi smacked his arm playfully, as if playing to scold him but either way she let out a quiet chuckle. "We shouldn't be talking about people so openly like this.. but shit, yeah. In public is crazy."

Nam-gyu laughed, covering his mouth with his hand as laughter bubbled up from his chest. He loved these moments with Se-mi, sometimes the worse of situations just went away with simple little moments they have together.

Not very far from them, Mi-na looked for someone in specific, a bright smile appearing on her lips as she caught sight of three men standing nearby the garden. Rushing forwards as much as she could in the heels she was wearing, she tapped someone's shoulder, someone who was all too familiar.

"Su-bong! It's been so long!" She said as the face of the familiar man came into view, and Su-bong returned her smile. "Señorita! It has been a long time." He replied with a side hug, a grin plastered in his face. "How have things been? Still trying to find someone?"

"No.. not really, I found a girlfriend." Mi-na said cheekily, watching as Su-bong's face fell for a second. "Jeez, who's the lucky lady? She here today?" Mi-na nodded, pointing towards the couch that was obscured by a few standing people. "She's sitting there with her friend, wanna come meet them?"

Su-bong thought for a second, setting down his glass as he waved bye to the men he was previously talked to. "Of course."

With that, Su-bong followed Mi-na's lead. Greeting some people here and there on the way until they finally reached the couch where the two Mi-na mentioned would be. But to his surprise, only who Su-bong assumed was Mi-na's girlfriend was there.

"Heyy, I'm back!" Mi-na announced as she plopped down next to Se-mi, finally realizing Nam-gyu wasn't there. "Where's Nam-gyu?"

"He went inside the house.. probably on the balcony he saw for a smoke." Se-mi said as she casually threw her arm over the older girl's shoulders, looking at Su-bong. "And who might that be?"

"Oh, he's my childhood best friend! His name is Su-bong, Su-bong, this is Se-mi." Mi-na introduced them cheerfully, watching the pair shake hands and give each other a polite smile.. well, for Se-mi's part. Because Su-bong was already pulling the whole señorita shit.

Before it could even get any further, Mi-na chimed in, an idea popping up in her mind as she squeezed Se-mi's hand, whom she hoped would get the idea. "Ay, Su-bong. Since you know the house, why don't you go call Nam-gyu for us?"

Su-bong furrowed his brows, crossing his arms. "Why don't you go? He's your friend." Well.. that was a good one, sure. But now, Mi-na kind of felt like playing matchmaker. "One, you're the host. Two, you know the building better, andd three, I'm kind of busy with my girlfriend here."

Su-bong rolled his eyes, a heavy huff of protest leaving his lips as he mumbled a flow of 'whatever's' as he turned around and left. The second Su-bong was gone, though, Mi-na looked at her girlfriend with a wicked grin. "A hundred bucks they'll hook up."

"Mm, bet." Se-mi replied with a chuckle, shaking her head. Mi-na had weird way of trying to match people together.

Above on the balcony Nam-gyu reached inside the house, the strong smell of cigarettes filled the air. One was already crushed by his side, a faint mark of something burnt in the wood of the railing he was leaning against. 

The breeze caressed his face and hair softly, doing nothing to shake away his thoughts of what he would even do with his future.

He inhaled the comforting smoke, eyes prying shut with relief as he pulled the stick back, holding it in for a minute before slowly exhaling it. Cigarettes and drinks were comforting to him, maybe it was because they had its own way to numb down his brain.

The faintest sounds of footsteps in distance reached his ears, even then, he didn't turn. The soft padding of feet mingling with the whooshing wind, and it just grew closer.. until it stopped. Right behind him.

Nam-gyu made no move to turn around, uninterested. It wasn't Se-mi, likely not Mi-na either. They'd probably be calling out for his name all around. "Smoking alone out here?" He heard a deep voice say, it was an unfamiliar one, mayhaps belonging to a very much older man.

"No, the corpse of my dead father is next to me." He replied dryly, and he heard the rustling and padding of feet again as they finally leaned into the railing right next to him, their eyes meeting.

Nam-gyu turned his head reluctantly, a tad annoyed that someone ruined his moment that he had been using to calm down his mind and think, but these eyes were mesmerizing.

Nam-gyu then remembered, this was the same man he had seen earlier on the billboard. But up close, with the dim lighting of the moon glinting softly above them, maybe he wasn't that bad. Purple hair, yet not the entirety of his hair was purple. He had a sharp jaw, defined cheekbones and.. blue eyes. 

It momentarily snapped him out of the moment again, but the deep rumble of a chuckle brought him back to reality. "You have another one of those?"

Nam-gyu nodded, reaching inside his pocket for another stick and his lighter. Su-bong reached for it, bringing it up to his lips as his fingers created the friction against the lighter, watching the flame be lit and burn into the cigarette.

Handing the other the lighter back, Su-bong stared off into the view Nam-gyu had previously been admiring. And then, he turned to Nam-gyu's face. He normally didn't remember anyone he invited, he just knew they came. But Nam-gyu.. he was sure he never met anyone that intrigued him so much as Nam-gyu did.

His eyes were a beautiful shade of black, almost cat like, too. Despite the lack of warmth in them, the fact they were devoid of anything, they were gorgeous. His skin was pale, tinted with barely visible freckles. Maybe coming here to call after Mi-na's friend wasn't so much of a bother anymore.

"You work with anything in particular?" Su-bong asked after a few seconds of awkward silence that seemed to stretch into eternity. Nam-gyu initially shook his head, not saying anything. Su-bong would have thought that Nam-gyu just wanted to be left alone in the end, but before he really could put his mind into it, Nam-gyu was speaking.

"No. I go to college, though." Interesting, well, maybe Nam-gyu really just came around because he was invited. "What major?" Su-bong really was unsure why was he dragging this on, maybe it was because Nam-gyu had a certain allure to him, or maybe it was just because the raven haired man managed to pick his interest.

"Law, but I'm probably going to quit." Nam-gyu said nonchalantly despite the tug on his heart he felt as he said those words, inhaling more smoke to drown the feeling. "Mm, how come? Got tired of it?" Su-bong said, genuinely curious as his fingers tapped against the wood of the railing. Now more focused on Nam-gyu than the cigarette, the view, or the laughter downstairs.

Nam-gyu let out a heavy sigh, normally, he wasn't one to go around and spill his guts to the world. But then again, he was talking to one of those rich and privileged people, it was likely he'd never see Su-bong again. "My job covers most of my tuition but.. I don't have enough to pay my damn rent. And either way, the job I work at is mostly empty all the time, even then I can't study. So I would just work for nothing and fail."

Su-bong pursed his lips, averting his gaze once again thoughtfully. "Sounds pretty tough," he began off. 

Nam-gyu was definitely one of the people who were financially struggling, and him being here was just mere luck because his friend is dating Mi-na. Su-bong normally didn't pay attention to these kinds of people, most of them just wanted money or something— anything, to drag them out of the situation they're in. But Nam-gyu seems decided, maybe a but too much. He looked unbothered or at least tried to convince himself he didn't care about this.

"It's not a tough decision, college can make you go towards the path of success, but if you slowly give yourself up in the end.. none of it is worth it. Even though I like studying, it's the truth." Nam-gyu murmured as he pushed his glasses back to the ridge of his nose, observing below them the glinting lights and the people socializing.

"I didn't catch your name yet." Su-bong suddenly mentioned, maybe he was just trying to change the uncomfortable subject.. whatever. Nam-gyu nodded, leaning his upper body forward as he enjoyed the soft and warm summer breeze. "Nam-gyu, Roh Nam-gyu."

Pretty name for a beautiful face.

That was Su-bong's first thought as he finally got his name, a smile appearing on his lips only to be brushed away. "My name's Choi Su-bong, it's nice to meet you, Nam-gyu."

Nam-gyu nodded, and he would have thought the conversation might as well have ended there. Yet, countless minutes later, to which he didn't even bother counting, he was still here. Still here sitting down on the floor as he laughed away with Su-bong as if he had known him his whole life, all while he held an already out cigarette.

"For someone so rich.. I wouldn't have thought you're funny, y'know? In my opinion, rich people can be so snobby.. it pisses me off." Nam-gyu said with another laugh coming right after as Su-bong snorted, waving him off. "Hey, now you know we're not snobby.. at least not all of us are, anyway."

They both stopped talking again, but this time, for some reason it felt weirdly different. The atmosphere was carefree and yet draping over them like a blanket, it was just enough to make Nam-gyu's heart begin thudding with excitement for reasons he couldn't even place.

"Do I piss you off?" Su-bong asked in a low murmur, hand moving from his own thigh to just tilt Nam-gyu's chin up. Sure.. Nam-gyu initially cursed him off but in the end, Su-bong wasn't bad. "No, not at all." Nam-gyu replied nearly breathlessly.

It was a tense moment charged with unspoken desires and unsaid words, Nam-gyu felt as if he had known this intriguing but weirdly attractive man since forever. He didn't know why he felt like this.. or what kind of spell Su-bong had on him (if he even had any), for him to feel the way he was feeling. He wasn't one for impulsive actions, but for some reason, his mind was screaming at him to give in.

And then, after a moment of hesitation and pondering, their eyes locked again. No words were exchanged at all, but it was as if they could read into each other's minds as their lips locked together.

It felt right, way too right. The alcohol clouded his mind and the smell of cigarettes clinging to Su-bong.. or maybe it was him, which in the end was both, was slowly getting to his brain. A groan spilled from Nam-gyu's lips as he reciprocated the kiss eagerly, eyelids fluttering shut against his will.

The way they melted together felt as if they were meant to do this, call Nam-gyu cheesy but he couldn't deny how good it felt. 

Su-bong was practically devouring him whole, hands wandering all around him as if trying to memorize his body through the barrier of their clothing pieces. Naturally, Nam-gyu didn't believe in God. But the second he pulled away, heavy and panting, and met Su-bong's eyes, the first thought occurring to his mind was that this man was his savior.

Nam-gyu let out a chuckle, tilting his head down as to hide his smile. He didn't know many things, but he knew he wanted Su-bong. Not because of the money, not because of where he is placed in society, but because of who he is.

"Wanna get out of here?" Su-bong asked just as equally breathless with a different gleam in his eyes, it was as if he felt it, too. "You're just.. leaving your guests here?" Nam-gyu asked, was he really getting to the point he was leaving his own party for him?

"Don't worry, I can't manage a party all by myself. I have assistants here that know how to take care of things without me." Su-bong said as he stood up, pulling Nam-gyu along as they sped walked out of the house.

It was as if Su-bong's assistants all knew his own rhythm and how he was, it surprised him, honestly. Especially when the man he assumed was the driver began making their way towards some limousine— maybe Su-bong really had it all thought out.

Following suit after the older man, he got inside the back seat. Of course the limousine had a damn partition, and Su-bong had never been so glad he came here with it.

The door behind Su-bong clicked shut as he rolled up the window, completely obscuring the driver from their view. And in an instant, their lips were on each other again.

Nam-gyu grabbed Su-bong's hair, feeling the silky and surprisingly strands beneath his fingers as they eagerly made out. Nam-gyu pressed against the seat, and Su-bong on top of him. The kiss broke with a wet 'pop', Nam-gyu was panting, but Su-bong didn't seem to mind catching his breath at all. His kisses descended all the way towards Nam-gyu's jaw to his neck, kissing and biting softly around the skin.

Su-bong began undoing the tie Nam-gyu wore, easing off the blazer all while he paid extra attention to the milky skin beneath his lips. But he didn't take off his shirt, thinking it'd be too much of a waste of time to put it back on once they reached the penthouse Su-bong stayed at.

And yet, he still was inpatient to just stick to kissing. His hands fumbled with Nam-gyu's belt as he heard the other pant and let out noises, the way his chest heaved and fell was nothing short of addictive.

Nam-gyu's heart stopped as he was brought to reality when he felt cold air hit his legs, realizing that Su-bong wasn't on top anymore, but kneeled down between his legs. Nam-gyu wasn't one to sleep around mainly because of this reason, most people in Korea were far too judgmental.

And yet, as Su-bong pulled down his boxers, he didn't say a word. He looked back up at Nam-gyu with a look he swore could suffocate him. Nam-gyu would have sworn he could feel his blood rushing just by how Su-bong was staring at him. With those eyes of him so hazy and practically begging, it made him think and know that right this instant, Su-bong didn't want only his body.

Nam-gyu nodded, and that was all the permission Su-bong ever needed. Firm hands gripped the back of Nam-gyu's thighs as they were thrown over his broad shoulders, it was as if Su-bong needed this— needed him like the air he breathed.

If he was unfocused before, all of his focus was brought back to reality. The reality where Su-bong buried his face between his legs, an expert tongue flat against his folds before it licked a stripe up his slit. A moan elicited from Nam-gyu's lips, a hand immediately burying itself on the purple hair since he couldn't really grasp onto anything.

Su-bong could have sworn he would lose his mind just from how good Nam-gyu tasted, shit, he if Nam-gyu accepted getting paid just for Su-bong to have him. His nose buried against the other's clit as he slid his tongue in with a groan, hearing the pleasurable sounds spilling from Nam-gyu's lips, maybe Su-bong was indeed in heaven.

Alternating between licks and thrusts of his tongue, Su-bong finally latched on the other's clit, one of his fingers pressing against his entrance to slowly sink in up to his knuckles.

Nam-gyu clenched around his fingers, as if he was desperate to keep them in. A hand flew over Nam-gyu's mouth as to muffle the series of noises he was letting out. Su-bong definitely did this before, he was doing this so confidently and so easily that it was making Nam-gyu's mind fog up. For a moment, he felt bad for the driver in the other compartment of the car, but now?.. maybe not so much. Despite his efforts to stay quiet, the feeling was too fucking good to ignore.

His gaze was dazed and distant, looking at everywhere but Su-bong's eyes. His biggest mistake was to look at them anyways, because the sight was genuinely breathtaking. The man had a determined face and even then, had this wild look in his eyes. It was enough to feel a familiar tightness in his core, making Nam-gyu throw his head back as the hand that was on Su-bong's hair forced him closer, if that even was possible.

The only sounds heard in the car was either Nam-gyu moaning or the obscene squelching sounds, Nam-gyu began grinding his hips against Su-bong's face, eyes rolling back from the sheer pleasure of it all. His thighs were restless, especially when Su-bong sunk a second finger just as equally deep as the first one. Nam-gyu didn't know if he wanted to press closer or squirm away from just how intense this all was. But either way he couldn't move, all due to one of Su-bong's arms pressed around one of his thighs, holding him down.

It was fucking pathetic how Nam-gyu was whimpering and moaning like a bitch in heat, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Everything was muffled as if he was underwater, he felt too good to bother. He locked his eyes with Su-bong again, who let out a groan against his cunt. Nam-gyu shuddered, shit, he was so close—

And then the car came into a halt, making Su-bong pull back. Nam-gyu whined in protest as he lost the feeling of Su-bong's fingers and mouth on him, but he was quickly shut with a heated kiss as Su-bong pulled up his pants. Nam-gyu was so fucking horny it physically hurt. The throb in his pussy was insistent, strong, shit had he really gone that long without sex?

"Why'd you stop?" Nam-gyu said with a frown and even annoyance in his voice, and Su-bong gave him a stupid grin full of teeth before kissing his jaw, close to his ear. "Maybe because the car stopped.. we're here. But then again, maybe you were too fucked out on my tongue to notice. Especially when you moaned like you were in heat."

Nam-gyu's face earned a bright tint of red at Su-bong's words, smacking the other's arms as he opened his mouth to clearly argue back against the statement, albeit knowing it was nothing but the truth. But their lips met again in another kiss, and this time, Nam-gyu could properly and definitely taste himself on Su-bong's tongue. A knock on the window was heard before they even got too heated, the driver announcing they had arrived, and Su-bong pulled back.. still with that damn cheeky grin. This time, he leaned in directly in his ear, enough to make him shudder, and whispered;

"I have enough money to pay you to have you staying on display in my bedroom allll day, and I most definitely could pay you to let me eat your sweet cunt for hours, mm? Would you like that?" Su-bong said in a breathy voice, it was deep and a bit raspy, making Nam-gyu feel a tingle down his spine. "I'd be between your legs so much that instead of complaining, you'll be crying for me to stop. But then again, you'll probably like it." And with that, Su-bong pulled away. Taking Nam-gyu's hand into his as he led the other out of the car.

Disheveled, flushing, and panting, Nam-gyu met the driver's eyes. Thankfully, his face was devoid of any emotion, even if Nam-gyu knew he was moaning loudly enough for the older man to hear. A man could certainly hope, right?

The sight in front of him momentarily had him dazed, making him forget about a lot of things in the moment. The building was definitely fancy, it shone bright and was well decorated. It had beautiful details, details that Nam-gyu was sure that even a single piece standing outside for decoration was worth more than he was. Su-bong chuckled, but didn't mention it further as he hastily dragged Nam-gyu inside. He greeted a few people along the way to the elevator, some staff doing the same as they politely bowed towards each other. Normally, Nam-gyu would feel extremely awkward and out of place, but he really just wanted Su-bong's hands roaming everywhere around him once again— so he really couldn't bring himself to care at this point.

The ride inside the elevator felt excruciatingly slow, his grip tight on Su-bong's hand. He was definitely just as eager as Nam-gyu was, considering how he would impatiently squeeze Nam-gyu's hand back from time to time. 

The door to the elevator dinged open just in time, to his relief. By now, Su-bong was just rapidly dragging Nam-gyu through the halls until they stopped by a particular door.

Su-bong's hands stubbornly shook as he slid the key inside the keyhole and twisted it. Hastily opening the door, he tossed the keys aside and shut the door with an unintentional slam when Nam-gyu walked in. The poor man didn't have a chance to admire how fancy the whole place was before he was swooped up in the other's arms, maybe Su-bong was even more horny than he was, after all.

In matter of seconds, he was thrown against the bed with an oddly gentle care. The blankets and mattress felt comfortable against his hands, it was definitely some kind of velvet. The rustling of clothes called Nam-gyu back to reality, only to see Su-bong standing there shirtless. He definitely went to gym, having a toned and defined upper body. Su-bong not only had a great personality but he was fucking hot. These same hands were back on him, undoing the buttons of his pants and carelessly throwing them aside along with his underwear, despite having previously been naked seconds earlier— he still couldn't help feeling a bit exposed.

Air felt a bit scarce as Su-bong slid off his shirt, Nam-gyu couldn't help feeling overly conscious over the two scars shaped in crescents there. But it was way better than when he still had his boobs, dysphoria wasn't as bad anymore. His shirt was also thrown on the floor somewhere with his clothes, leaving him bare for the air to caress his skin.

Su-bong stared at the man beneath him, all of the weight in the world seemed to be in those beautiful black eyes and Su-bong felt like he was swept off his feet. Nam-gyu was still somewhat panting, his once neat hair was sticking everywhere but most importantly, around his head like some sort of halo. His chest heaving and falling, hands slightly gripping the sheets in anticipation, and Su-bong decided right there that Nam-gyu wasn't too far below the gods. Matter of fact, he likely was one. "Shit," Su-bong mumbled as he pressed his face against Nam-gyu's neck, kissing the skin there as both of his hands held his waist firmly.

"You're fucking divine, you know that?" Nam-gyu gaped his lips, his heart stuttering in place as he processed the words. He got called a lot of things throughout the course of his life, hot, pretty, gorgeous— but being called something such as this in such a raw unbridled way, a way that sounded so genuine, tugged at his heart.

"Su-bong— please." Nam-gyu whined back, those words were all sent straight to his core. He wasn't aware he had a thing for getting praised and worshipped like this, but he wasn't complaining. Those warm and open mouthed kisses became bites, etching and craving themselves on his skin with a pleasurable sting of pain.

Su-bong was everywhere, his mouth marking the pale skin of his neck, his shoulders, his collarbones— and then he finally pulled back, panting slightly with a satisfied smirk on his face. "You're fucking gorgeous, you sure you're not a god in disguise?" Su-bong genuinely asked, fingers tracing the marks under his chest with an utter tenderness Nam-gyu swore he would cry.. not only from his eyes, of course.

"Su-bong, shit— please, just fuck me." Nam-gyu said with a frown, it really wasn't his fault when his cunt was throbbing too fucking hard just from how turned on he was. "Needy." Su-bong mumbled in reply as he latched on one of his nipples, a moan tearing from Nam-gyu's throat. Initially low, but when Su-bong slid in two fingers inside of him again with no warning, it essentially grew higher in pitch.

His thighs shook as Su-bong shoved his fingers deep enough to reach that spongy spot inside of him, crooking and scissoring in an almost teasing manner. He could feel his erection pressing directly on the thigh he was hovering over, and Nam-gyu really just wanted to be fucked dumb over and over again by this man.

Su-bong pulled back, smirking at Nam-gyu who was by now grinding his hips down as much as he could against his fingers, a hand coming up to caress his cheek in an almost mocking way. "You gonna cum, baby?" With those words, he sped up his movements. The palm of his hand slapping against Nam-gyu's already tortured clit with each thrust.

Nam-gyu nodded, gripping the sheets as moans tore from his throat. The knot in his core slowly unraveling, "Come on, cum around my fingers, you earned it." And he did, hard. Nam-gyu's eyes nearly rolled back (they probably did, but he was too out of it to even tell.) As his thighs tried to clamp shut out of pure instinct, gushing around Su-bong's fingers.

Su-bong worked Nam-gyu through his orgasm, watching Nam-gyu squirt and pulse around his fingers with genuine awe. Peppering his face in kisses, down to his jaw, neck, and stopping at his shoulders. A grin plastered on his face as Nam-gyu finally came down from his intense high. He eased his fingers out, earning whines of what looked like overstimulation and bringing his fingers to his mouth as he sucked them clean. "You taste real good, y'know?" Su-bong murmured against Nam-gyu's shoulder before pulling back to look at him in the eyes. Nam-gyu looked a little out of it, maybe it was that good in the end. "You with me?"

Nam-gyu slowly snapped back to it, the initial haze of his orgasm fading as he was met with Su-bong's grounding eyes. He nodded, although he was barely catching into the words. He propped himself up on his elbows, chasing after Su-bong's lips as they met with a kiss. It wasn't soft, nor tender. But it wasn't feral either, instead, it exhaled the feelings unspoken; passion, may-haps. And definitely lust.

With a surprising ease, as Su-bong allowed it, Nam-gyu slowly swapped their positions so he was properly sat on his lap. A hand burying itself into the mix of purple and black hair while the other deftly unbuckled Su-bong's belt and unzipped the zipper of his pants, and with a minimum help from the older man, he shoved them down along with his boxers, whom Su-bong kicked somewhere in the room.

Breaking the kiss apart and yet without breaking eye contact, Nam-gyu grabbed the other's already red cock— the poor thing already leaking. And Nam-gyu couldn't even judge him, he was fucking sopping wet. Pumping it once or twice in his hand as Su-bong let out quiet groans, he pressed it slowly against his entrance before he began sinking down.

Moans and grunts from both of them were heard in the room and yet they still stared at each other. Su-bong held Nam-gyu's hips firmly, thinking he had never looked so divine. He felt like gummy around him— and shit, he was tight. He would have guessed it had been a little while, and the thought almost made him smile. Almost.

"Shit— you're s'big" Nam-gyu groaned into Su-bong's neck, he felt so fucking stuffed and full and yet Su-bong was only halfway in. "Relax, just take a breath, 'kay?" Su-bong said as he as gently as possible, eased Nam-gyu down into his dick. Rubbing circles on his hips with his thumbs, after what felt like an eternity, Su-bong bottomed out. Pulling Nam-gyu in for another kiss to help him distract himself.

The pain was stinging, it definitely had been more than months since Nam-gyu had sex with someone. But it was good, that was something he couldn't deny. But it slowly eased away as they kissed, forcing himself to focus more on the feeling of Su-bong's lips on his than the slightly uncomfortable feeling. "Sh- shit.." Su-bong said with a breathless moan, eyes darting to see Nam-gyu perfectly adjusted on his lap. 

"You feel good, fuck," Nam-gyu moaned, lifting his hips a tad shakily before dropping down. Su-bong's hands aided him on the movement, although he did let Nam-gyu work it in his own pace. "Fucking christ, you're a dream." Su-bong said with a groan, head hitting back against the headboard and fingers tightening around the other's hip when he let out a sound equal to a whimper.

The initial pace was slow, a measured drop and rise of hips that had them both moaning and allowing them to savor the feeling. But then again, it only took a few moments for that pace to change into a much faster one. In question of seconds, Nam-gyu was going faster and faster until he was practically bouncing on Su-bong's lap. Mewling and moaning helplessly, it was a hell of a fucking sight.

Su-bong took a little while to appreciate Nam-gyu's appearance before anything else, the way Nam-gyu had his arms thrown over his shoulders, the way his eyes were glazed and unfocused, sometimes rolling back.. the way his lips, already swollen and red from kissing parted to let out the most sinful moans Su-bong has ever heard.. he swore Nam-gyu could make a pornstar feel ashamed. And the way he was nearly drooling, fucking himself dumb on Su-bong's cock as if it was his life purpose.

Tugging at Nam-gyu's hair for a split second, he watched the latter whine at the feeling before being pulled into a messy and sloppy kiss. It was as if they were trying to swallow each other, maybe that's how both of them wanted it to be. Su-bong dug his nails into Nam-gyu's skin, hoping that it was strong enough to leave a mark— any mark he could leave on this being that Su-bong so dearly believed was a god. And maybe the altar was Nam-gyu's hips, where Su-bong worshipped him.

Nam-gyu moaned breathlessly against the kiss, his movements all jerky and uncoordinated as he got closer and closer. And as their lips parted, Nam-gyu was coming for the second time— and fucking hard. To the point his vision was all blurry and Su-bong became just a flash of purple hair.

Su-bong groaned as he felt Nam-gyu squeeze the life out of him, his cunt gripping his dick so tight he would have guessed Nam-gyu never wanted to let him go. He bit down on the other's shoulder, thrusting up as their bodies moved in sync. And then he finally released, pushing himself as deep as he could go before flooding the other's insides. It was an addictive kind of feeling, one that Su-bong definitely wanted to get used to. "Good job— shit, good boy"

Nam-gyu whimpered at the name, their bodies altogether slowly halting to a stop. For a few moments, both of them stayed still, starstruck. Nam-gyu was the first to move, whimpers and moans he tried so hard to suppress falling from his lips desperately until the other's cock limply slid out of his cunt, biting his lip at the mere sight of it.

Su-bong observed it just as well as Nam-gyu did, his tongue kissing his teeth as he watched his cum slowly slide out of Nam-gyu's gaping and spasming hole. "For someone who was dying to get fucked, you're really wasteful, y'know?" Su-bong murmured as he pushed two of his fingers in, earning an overstimulated moan from Nam-gyu who smacked his shoulder. "Asshole.. I'm still fucking sensitive."

But really, Su-bong couldn't care less. Tapping Nam-gyu's clit with his thumb, "Get on your knees and hands." It was an authoritative kind of voice, demanding, too. But not forcing, if Nam-gyu wanted to stop there, Su-bong would stop. But a wicked grin spread on his lips as Nam-gyu did just exactly as he was told to, maybe he might as well keep Nam-gyu all to himself in his bed.

"Tsk, maybe you really would like being in my bedroom, wouldn't you? Fucking slut." Su-bong murmured, not even giving the other a warning before he pushed himself straight in with a groan. His hand, heavy and willing, slapping against the skin of his ass. 

Nam-gyu let out a surprised yelp at that, he shouldn't have enjoyed it but.. he weirdly did, the sting of pain slowly fading away only to be etched again. "F-fuck!— Su-bong!" A broken moan tore from his throat, and this time, Su-bong wasn't letting him take his time.

The thrusts were relentless, nearly wild if not more than that. The combined feeling of his insides being ravaged and the sharp smacks against his ass were too much. His upper body slumped forward, leaving his ass perked up as he gripped the sheets below him. His thighs shook, Nam-gyu for a split second believed he would pass out and slump forward completely if it wasn't for the firm grip of one of Su-bong's hands so tight on his hip. "F-fuck, Su-bong— it's too muc- ahn!.. shit, slow down!-" 

And yet the older man made no move to slow down, he didn't had intentions to, after all. Another demanding hand smacked against Nam-gyu's ass, tearing moans from the back of the other's throat. Su-bong watched with satisfaction as the once pale skin became a blooming red, deciding to give the poor boy a break and moving his hand to press Nam-gyu's head against the mattress. "You take what I give you, hear me? You asked for this."

A shiver ran down Nam-gyu's spine at how deep and rough Su-bong's voice was, his eyes prickling with tears as he moaned uselessly like some cheap slut against the blankets. The grip he had there was enough to make his knuckles whiten. His mouth opened and didn't even close again as a series of 'ah, ah, ah's' left his lips. His mind was blank, the only thing etched into it was Su-bong deep inside of him, Su-bong pressing his face down, Su-bong who was now pressing kisses down his spine. Su-bong, Su-bong, Su-bong. Everything was him, he was everywhere.

Pulling Nam-gyu's head back by the hair, Su-bong kissed his shoulder as he watched him practically drool, pathetically sobbing as he clenched hard against Su-bong's dick. The sight was nearly enough to make Su-bong cum right there and then, but he held it in. "Come on, touch yourself f'me." Su-bong instructed as calmly as he could despite how restrained his voice sounded.

Nam-gyu nodded, or at least tried to. And even as he felt highly overstimulated and out of it, two of his fingers pressed against his clit, jerky and deft as he rubbed himself. Nam-gyu swore his soul got sucked out seconds later when he came once again, nearly passing out as he kept gushing around the other. Su-bong moaned and grunted as he fucked Nam-gyu through his orgasm, all it took for him to cum too was a few more thrusts before he buried himself to the hilt, cumming to the feeling of Nam-gyu's gummy walls gripping him as if he was going to disappear if it let go.

Despite the haze of his orgasm, Su-bong kissed the side of Nam-gyu's neck as he slumped forward, murmuring sweet words as he heard Nam-gyu genuinely sob of pleasurable overstimulation.

"Think you can do one f'me, baby? Just one more?" Su-bong asked as he stilled his movements, letting Nam-gyu come back to reality. The raven haired man shook his head, overstimulation slowly drenching up his brain. Sobs left him as he completely ignored the drool leaving his parted lips.

Su-bong eased himself out of the other, flipping him on his back only to be met with the most fucking erotic and yet still infuriatingly beautiful sight. A sight that knocked air out of his lungs.

Nam-gyu's eyelashes were wet, his eyes were shining with tears and they were slightly bloodshot. They had an alluring shine to them, and Su-bong found that Nam-gyu was fucking gorgeous when he cried. There was drool etched on his cheek from the previous moment, his chest heaved and fell in a rapid pace. His lips red and swollen, sweat on his forehead and hair sticking to his face. And Nam-gyu still was the most beautiful man Su-bong had ever laid eyes on. "Come on, baby, just one more and I'll let you rest."

Nam-gyu whined in protest, shaking his head as he sniffled. But with just a little bit more of convincing— a few sweet words here and there, he was agreeing. "Just one more.. i'm fucking tired." Nam-gyu murmured with a furrow of his brows.

Su-bong nodded, kissing his cheek and wiping his tears tenderly with the back of his hand. This time, maybe it wasn't because Su-bong wanted to fuck Nam-gyu, he wanted to downright worship the god that somehow ended up in his bed. Nam-gyu's eyes fluttered shut with a throaty moan as Su-bong slid himself back in for what felt like the tenth time only tonight, and he cursed himself mentally for agreeing with this at first, but Su-bong didn't move at first, catching Nam-gyu off guard.

Instead, the purple haired man began descending kisses down Nam-gyu's neck, slowly and throughly. So gentle that Nam-gyu thought that for a second, Su-bong was treating him like a piece of frail art. "You're so gorgeous, shit." Su-bong murmured against Nam-gyu's heated skin, determined to leave his lips in every single inch there was. "If I knew you were friends with Mi-na's girlfriend, I'd have taken you for myself a long time ago." Su-bong said as he kissed the scars Nam-gyu was so insecure of, gentle, and willing. As if he was trying to make Nam-gyu carve into his brain that he was perfect, even with the small crescent scars beneath his chest.

And Nam-gyu thought he might begin sobbing all over again, especially when Su-bong finally began moving as slowly and tenderly as he could, and yet deep— in a way Nam-gyu actually could feel just how deep inside he was, and just how big Su-bong felt— stuffing his poor cunt full. "I'm not religious or anything, but fuck— I think I want to worship you everyday of my life." Su-bong said as he placed one of Nam-gyu's legs over his shoulder, his gaze holding so much care, something so undeniably sweet, that Nam-gyu's heart couldn't take it. Nor the way his chest felt like it would burst.

"Would you like that? Fuck— staying with me? Let me worship like the god you are? Honestly, you're not too below that." Su-bong said with a shaky laugh, mixed with a moan as he moved himself quicker. His free hand caressed Nam-gyu's body, tracing every scar, every stretch mark in view, every little detail. And committing them to memory.

"Su-bong— yes, shit! Yes, yes, yes— please!" Nam-gyu chanted over and over again, careless about the tears spilling down his cheeks as he felt Su-bong's thumb firmly press against his clit, circling it slowly in soothing motions. The feeling of it all was genuinely overwhelming, in a good way. Dragging another orgasm out of him as he chanted Su-bong's name over and over again as he came for the fourth time only tonight.

Su-bong's breath hitched, gripping Nam-gyu's leg firmly as he tossed his hair back, overstimulating himself with a few more thrusts before he buried himself to the hilt once again, in a way that felt right, and came. Slowly fucking his cum inside the other with gentle and little thrusts until he stopped fully.

Dropping Nam-gyu's leg down, none of them moved for what felt like an eternity, instead.. they just stared at each other's eyes in a moment of unspoken emotions. "Good job, you did so well f'me" Su-bong was the first to speak, already peppering kisses all over Nam-gyu's face as he slid out of his pussy who spasmed and clenched around air, leaking out his cum. Nam-gyu was out of it, too out of it, to be honest. He felt half unconscious and half conscious, just barely catching onto Su-bong's words.

"Stay here, I'll run you a bath." Su-bong said with a smile even though Nam-gyu could barely move a muscle. Showering was just as tender, his hair was washed throughly like every part of his body. All with the utmost care. His hair was dried with a blow dryer and he was changed into some clothes that were a little bit too big on him, and finally, he caught up with the moment when he was in bed.. laying next to Su-bong. Face pressed into the other's collarbone.

Su-bong was absentmindedly tracing circles on Nam-gyu's arm as he hummed quietly, inhaling the shampoo scent emanating from his freshly washed hair. "Do you still want to go to college?" He asked abruptly, making Nam-gyu pull back to look at Su-bong in the eyes. "If I had the money, I'd keep going." He said a little bit resentful, knowing he'd have to quit.

"I'll pay for your tuitions, and you can also.. stay with me, if you want. I meant it when I said I wanted you for me." Su-bong said sheepishly, fully expecting a 'no' or 'we only slept once, get lost.' From Nam-gyu. But in reality, Nam-gyu gave him the most beautiful smile he could muster up along with a chuckle and nodded. "If you wanted to date me, you could have just said so. Going to college is just part of the package."

Su-bong smiled back, shaking his head before burying his face into Nam-gyu's hair. "Alright, guess I'll be living with a future lawyer, then."

Nam-gyu was the first to fall asleep, lulled by the good feelings and how light his heart felt. And Su-bong slept right after, observing Nam-gyu's face until slept caught him too.

And if the poor driver ever heard them previously? That was for him to keep it to himself. (With a little bribery of an extra payment.)

-

BONUS!!!

Nam-gyu groaned as he sat up straight, rubbing his eyes as he felt arms draped over his waist. He sighed as he looked at Su-bong, reaching for his glasses and phone left on the nightstand. Clicking on his phone, he was startled to see the amount of messages and missed calls from Se-mi, shit.

Calling the other girl back immediately, he barely had the chance to say hi as Se-mi asked; "Did you guys hook up?"

In the back, he could hear Mi-na giggling. So all along.. they had been planning this. Ever since the car ride where Mi-na whispered something to Se-mi, tsk. Clever little bitches. But he still couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed. "Se-mi!" He scolded, a huff leaving his lips.

But Nam-gyu didn't mind it, not at all. Especially when he got a caring boyfriend along the way.

[potatoesenpaii]

Hi friend: dealers choice!! Eddie or Gareth taking care of you while sick??🤒 love you!

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Eddie ;

When he received a call from your mother warning him that you would not assist your usual saturday night date...He got worried. Eddie was not unfamiliar with sickness, he did lived in poverty pretty much all his life, so he would catch every unimaginable sickness known to men when cold hit.

But seeing you with a disheveled shirt and a pair of boxers, snoring face first in your pillow he...wanted to laugh so hard. Your mother warned him your fever was close to be ER worth, so he offered to spend the rest of the weekend by your side to make sure it wouldn't happen.

He tried to shift you to lay on your back, alas his body fell forward and face first in the mattress close to your right side. He was absolutely ridicule and guess that was karma for laughing at you when he came in.

His grunt make you wake up, trying to sit up to be blocked by the body of your boyfriend's over you in his weird position.

"Baby?" You grumbled in a yawn with blurred eyes.

"Yeah?" Eddie said muffled as he sat himself back to something normal.

"What are you doing?" You ask, instantly going to bury your warm body against his.

"Caring for you" He said, hoping you wouldn't ask about how he was placed....

"With your face in my mattress?" You raised you head just to be shushed back to lay it on his chest.

"Thought it would be more comfortable" he said innocently, trying to pass his mistake for nothing.

"Uh-uh.." You snorted while pulling on his shirt.

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Gareth ;

Moment he got the call? He was already by your side. Well at your door, with you opening it wide opened and being confused how he showed up under ten minutes when you lived fifteen minutes away from Hawkins.

"That was.." You started, to be cut short as his hand feeling your forehead.

"Fast, yeah i know." He closed the door with a small kick before leading you back to your bedroom.

"You know I'm not dying, right?" You whined while letting him guide you back to your bed.

"Might as well be if you're acting like a baby" He smiled while forcing your shoulders down to sit at the edge of your bed.

"You didn't have to come" You hummed, letting your body fall back on the bed.

"Are you joking? Is this a joke?" He asked while trying to find your warmest pyjama's since you didn't bothered to wear anything else but shorts and a large shirt.

"Garebear" You whispered softly, snapping him out of his anxiety and turning his head to your form with open arms waiting for him to just come cuddle.

He didn't really hesitate to let himself fall into your arms, making you make a oof "I hate when you're sick"

"I hate being sick too, love" You sighed, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

"Is it okay if i spend the night?" He asked muffled into your shoulder.

"You don't want Eddie to drive you again?" You stiffled a laugh, guessing that's how he got to you so fast.

"...Maybe I just want to make sure you'll be okay tomorrow?...Okay fine, i don't want Eddie to drive me again" You laughed at the way he practically whined it.

"You can stay the night" You chuckled while resting your eyes for a bit.

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Tag list : @iitsmandii @1lostsoul0fishbowl @week-old-tiramisu

Masterlist

[jungkoode]

OFF-LABELS | O3

→ PAIRING : Med Student!Hoseok x F!Reader (Brother’s Best Friend AU)

→ RATING: Mature, 18+, suggestive tones.

→ DATE POSTED:

→ SUMMARY: You’ve spent four years convincing yourself that your brother’s best friend is just being nice when he remembers your coffee order, quizzes you on neuroanatomy, or lets his touch linger a second too long. Because there’s no way that the golden boy of Seoul National’s medical program might actually be flirting with you. Especially when he keeps saying things that could be perfectly innocent… if only he didn’t say them in that voice.

→ TAGS: second person perspective, female reader, medical school au, brother’s best friend trope, age gap (4 years), pining, touch starved, overthinking reader, confident hoseok, gentle dom hoseok, medical terminology as flirting (lmao), study sessions, domestic moments, innocent (but not really), plausible deniability king hoseok, anxiety, internal monologue, guilty crushes, subtle teasing, emotional edging, gentle manipulation, praise kink undertones, intellectual attraction, competency kink, hand fixation, voice kink, medical intern hoseok, first year med student reader, home setting, casual intimacy, unresolved sexual tension (for now), secret attraction, nervous rambling, self-doubt, intrusive thoughts, anatomy lessons with ulterior motives, competent hoseok, flustered reader, close proximity, accidental touches that aren’t accidents.

→ CONTENT in this chapter: Hoseok being a menace with medical terminology, innocent (but absolutely calculated) comments about oral muscle endurance, subtext so thick it's suffocating, plausible deniability at an elite level, flustered reader, casual intimacy that feels dangerous, and dinner table tension that might actually kill you.

→ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQ | WORDCOUNT: 2.2k

→ MINI SERIES: NEXT | PREVIOUS

→ A/N: Listen. I don't know what is wrong with me. I sat down to write something normal, and then suddenly I was researching orofacial muscle fatigue like a lunatic. WHY is this man like this? Why does he say things so kindly while ruining your life? Why is he explaining anatomy while looking directly at you like that? Anyway. This chapter is dedicated to anyone who has ever choked on their food while someone smiled at them way too nicely.

PLAYLIST

It starts in the kitchen.

Which is unfortunate, because the kitchen is small. And there are only so many places to stand before proximity becomes a problem.

You’re hyperaware of it—the space (limited), the air (too warm), him (entirely too close). But it’s fine. You’re fine. You’re just making tea, and he’s just existing, leaning against the counter like this is his apartment instead of your brother’s. Like he belongs here. Like his presence isn’t making it impossible for you to function like a normal person.

(He’s not even doing anything. Which somehow makes it worse.)

“I didn’t know you liked green tea.” His voice is easy, just conversational. Not a trap. Probably.

You don’t look at him. Can’t. “Yeah. I mean—I do. It’s good. Antioxidants and stuff.”

Brilliant. Truly stunning commentary.

Hoseok just hums, and you hear the soft clink of his rings against his glass as he lifts it to his lips. He’s drinking water, which seems unfair. Water is neutral. Water doesn’t require decisions. Meanwhile, you’re standing here, internally debating whether you’re taking too long to steep this tea, if leaving the bag in too long will make you seem weird, if—

“Relax, Chip.”

The words are casual. Just a little offhanded throwaway of a comment. But it lands like a dropped match, tiny but catastrophic.

You blink. Slowly. “What?”

Hoseok sets his glass down with a soft thud and turns to you fully, eyebrows lifted in lazy amusement. “You’re overthinking your tea.”

He says it like it’s obvious. Like it’s a thing people do—casually observe someone else’s entire internal meltdown and name it out loud.

Which, to be fair, is exactly what he’s doing.

Your ears feel hot. “I am not.”

“You are.”

He’s enjoying this. You can tell. It’s in the corner of his mouth, the hint of a smile he’s barely holding back. Not mean—just knowing.

And then it clicks. The name.

Chip.

“Wait,” you say, narrowing your eyes. “Did you just call me—”

His grin sharpens, eyes flashing with something teasing, but infuriatingly innocent. “Yeah,” he says, like it’s no big deal. “Chip. Short for chipmunk.”

You stare at him. Your brain scrambles for a response and comes up with absolutely nothing.

He keeps going, undeterred. “You do this thing when you’re overthinking—” He gestures vaguely at your face, at you. “Your cheeks puff up. Just a little.”

Absolutely not. That does not happen.

Except—you know exactly what he’s talking about.

Which means he’s noticed.

You turn back to your tea, because looking at him feels impossible. “That’s not a real thing.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“It is,” he says again, softer this time. Almost amused.

You risk a glance at him. He’s watching you, expression easy, mouth still curled slightly at the edges.

It’s not a big deal.

It’s just a nickname.

But you can feel it settling somewhere deep in your chest, warm and unwelcome, curling into the spaces he’s already managed to take up.

Chip.

You should tell him not to call you that.

You should absolutely, definitively tell him not to call you that.

But you don’t.

You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything.

That he’s just being himself—casual, playful, thoughtless in the way people like him can afford to be. That it’s just a nickname, not a calculated attack on your sanity.

And yet.

Yet.

You feel it every time he says it after that.

The first time, it’s two days later. He and your brother are in the living room, a game on in the background, when you walk by with your laptop. You aren’t even stopping—just passing through—when he glances up and says it like it’s always been your name.

“Where you off to, Chip?”

The sound of it makes you trip over your own feet. Embarrassingly. You don’t even answer, just keep walking, face burning, fully aware of the way he watches you go.

Then it happens again.

And again.

Sometimes it’s subtle, slipped in like an afterthought. “Hey, Chip, toss me that.” “You always this quiet, Chip?”

Other times it’s deliberate. Measured. Like he’s testing the weight of it, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll react.

You don’t.

You refuse.

(Which only seems to encourage him.)

And then one night, it’s just the two of you. Your brother’s in the shower, music spilling under the bathroom door, and you’re curled up on the couch, trying very hard to ignore the fact that Hoseok is sitting way too close for comfort.

His arm is slung over the back of the couch, loose and easy, and every so often, when you shift, your shoulder brushes against his.

(You should move. You should absolutely move.)

Instead, you stay where you are and pretend to be very, very interested in the show playing on the screen.

Hoseok shifts. You feel the weight of his attention before you see it.

“You don’t like it?”

You blink. “What?”

“The nickname.” His voice is low, smooth, barely above the sound of the TV. “You never say anything about it.”

You don’t know what to do with that. Don’t know what to do with him, watching you like he’s reading something written just under your skin.

“It’s fine,” you say, and it’s not convincing.

His lips twitch, but his voice stays neutral. “You sure?”

You nod, too quickly.

There’s a beat of silence. You can hear the shower running down the hall, the TV filling the air with white noise.

And then—so soft you almost don’t catch it—

“Good.”

It lingers in the space between you, something light, something easy. But you feel it settle somewhere deeper. Somewhere dangerous.

Because now, you know for certain.

He’s not going to stop.

And that’s the problem. It’s a problem. Because Hoseok is nice.

He’s just nice.

He’s warm and charming in a way that isn’t practiced—it just is. The kind of person who remembers how you take your coffee after hearing it once, who laughs with his whole chest, who makes people feel like they belong.

He’s good at things, too. Competent in that effortless way that makes it infuriatingly easy to admire him. You’ve seen him fix things around your brother’s apartment without being asked, roll up his sleeves and lean under the sink like it’s nothing, like he was built for it.

(Not that you were watching. Not that you noticed the way the muscles in his forearms shift when he grips a wrench.)

The point is—this is just how he is. With everyone.

So it’s fine.

Everything is fine.

Or at least, it would be, if he’d stop saying things.

Because then, it happens at dinner.

And the reason for Hoseok being here is simple.

He’s always here for dinner.

Not every night, but often enough that it’s routine. That your parents barely bat an eye when they see him at the table, that your mom still sets an extra plate for him when she cooks, that your dad asks about his job like he’s part of the family.

Because he might as well be.

He and Caleb have been friends since his first year of university—long enough for Hoseok to be comfortable in this house, for your parents to know his favorite foods, for you to be so used to him being around that you shouldn’t be affected by it anymore.

(And yet. And yet.)

Dinner is normal.

It’s just the five of you at the table, passing dishes around, the smell of takeout filling the air. The conversation is easy, punctuated by laughter, by the scrape of chopsticks against plastic containers.

It’s nice. It’s comfortable.

Or at least—it should be.

Except your eyes keep tracking him. They always do. The way he sits—too at ease, too familiar. The way his sleeves are pushed up just enough to be distracting. The way his fingers grip his chopsticks, loose and confident, movements fluid and practiced.

(It’s stupid. It’s stupid that you’re noticing these things.)

Your dad is asking Hoseok something about work, and you force yourself to focus, desperate to ground yourself in the conversation instead of spiraling into a pit of your own making.

“How are you managing, with the residency?”

“It’s been busy,” Hoseok says, setting his chopsticks down neatly. “But good. No complaints.”

Your mom tuts. “You work too much.”

Hoseok just smiles, warm and self-effacing. “It’s not so bad.”

Your dad nods approvingly. “That’s a good mindset. A little hard work never hurt anyone.”

“And at least someone in this house is doing it,” Caleb says, nudging you lightly under the table.

You roll your eyes. “I work plenty.”

“Studying doesn’t count,” Caleb argues, because he loves to be annoying.

“It literally does.”

Your mom sighs, long-suffering. “Can we have one meal where you two don’t bicker?”

You sit back in your chair, focusing very hard on your plate, on not looking at the person sitting just to your right. The conversation flickers and tumbles around you, but you don’t register much of it.

And then—

“You should use your mouth more, Chip.”

The table goes quiet.

Your heart stops.

Your stomach plummets.

Your entire soul leaves your body, hovering somewhere above the dinner table, watching this play out like a nightmare in slow motion.

Because—because—

He didn’t mean it like that. He can’t have meant it like that. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

Your dad is right there. Your mom is right there.

Hoseok is just sitting there, utterly relaxed, a picture of perfect innocence.

You’re the only one who reacts.

And that’s the problem.

Your brother—oblivious, as always—just scoffs. “I keep telling her that.”

The world tilts.

Your face burns.

Because Caleb just agreed. Like this is a normal conversation. Like this is fine.

And maybe it is fine.

Maybe you just missed something again—some context, some crucial piece of information that would make this make sense.

You frantically rewind the last few minutes, trying to figure out how this could possibly be about—

“She eats too fast,” Caleb continues, like he’s talking about the weather. “I’ve been saying it for years.”

Your entire body deflates.

Oh.

Oh.

It’s nothing.

It’s just about chewing. About how you’re always the first to finish your plate, about how your brother has been calling you out for it since you were kids.

You were imagining it.

Your hands are clammy. Your heartbeat is still a mess. But you take a slow breath, trying to pull yourself back together.

You force a weak, strangled sort of laugh. “Right. That.”

Hoseok hums, tilting his head slightly. “I wouldn’t say that.”

He taps his chopsticks against his lower lip, slow and thoughtful, as if genuinely weighing his next words. Then, with the kind of mild, absentminded curiosity that should not be dangerous but absolutely is, he continues—

“Oral muscles are surprisingly adaptable. With the right conditioning, they can handle prolonged exertion without fatigue.”

Your brain short-circuits.

Absolutely not.

You’re suddenly hyper-aware of everything—the weight of his voice, the way the words land, the way your lungs forget how to function. You try—desperately—to convince yourself that he means nothing by it, that this is just a fun little fact, the kind of thing anyone might say in casual conversation.

(Except no one says things like that in casual conversation.)

Your parents don’t react. Your brother doesn’t even blink. They just keep eating like this is normal, like this is fine.

You, meanwhile, are staring at your plate, trying not to choke on air.

And just as you’re about to die from sheer mortification, he adds—

“For instance, brass players develop impressive endurance. Hours of embouchure control, you know?”

Embouchure control.

You think you might be having an out-of-body experience.

Because he’s not even looking at you. He’s just sitting there—calm, innocent, like he’s just making an offhand comment about music, like he’s not actively ruining your life.

It’s fine. It’s nothing. It’s science.

(Except it’s not.)

You need to leave.

You shove your chair back, your hands shaking. “I’m—gonna grab some water.”

Hoseok watches you go. You feel it.

At the sink, you grip the counter, staring hard at the faucet as you fill your glass.

It’s fine.

It’s nothing.

You’re imagining things.

It’s Hoseok being Hoseok—friendly, completely unaware of the way his words get tangled in your head, twisted into shapes they were never meant to take.

You gulp down half the glass, hoping it might cool the heat rising under your skin.

Behind you, the conversation moves on. Your dad is talking about a trip, your mom is mentioning something about the neighbors.

Everything is fine.

But when you turn back, Hoseok is still watching you.

Not in a way anyone else would notice—not in a way your brother does, too focused on his food, or in a way your parents would think twice about—but in a way that you notice.

In a way that makes something low in your stomach twist, tight and uncertain.

And then, like he knows, like he can read the exact trajectory of your thoughts, Hoseok smiles.

Soft. Innocent.

Like he didn't do anything at all.

→ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @somehowukook @just-reading-dany @sanarin @billy-jeans23 @stuti2904 @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe

© 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓.

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[pascalislove]

THE CALL: Han Jeong-Won x Fem!Reader~24

Summary: Your arrival would change everything, even if Jeong-Won didn't know it yet.

The day had started normally, but Y/N soon realized that something was not right. Sudden dizziness forced her to lean on the kitchen counter while she tried to prepare breakfast. Jeong-Won, who had just entered the room, frowned seeing her staggering. —"Y/N?" he asked, worried as he quickly approached her.

-I'm fine... just a little dizzy,-she responded with a weak smile, although the sweat on her forehead said otherwise. Before she could say anything else, a growing discomfort forced her to run to the bathroom. Jeong-Won followed her without hesitation, his heart racing with worry.

—"That's not 'being okay,'" he said firmly as he helped her stand after she finished vomiting.

-It must be something I ate,-Y/N tried to justify, but her voice sounded weak.

—"Let's go to the hospital. Now,"-he said, not giving her the option to argue.

The doctor quickly treated them, diagnosing that Y/N was suffering from severe indigestion accompanied by dehydration. After a brief check-up and some medicine, they were allowed to return home with the recommendation that she rest completely.

When they arrived, Jeong-Won wasted no time.

He helped her lie down on the bed with surprising gentleness, as if he was afraid of breaking it.

-You don't have to do all this, really, - Y/N protested, although her tone was weak.

-“I don't want to hear another word,”- Jeong-Won said with a hint of authority, but his eyes reflected pure affection.

He bent down to adjust the blanket for her and then went to the kitchen.

In a short time he returned with a tray: hot soup, water and the prescribed medicines.

—"First, the soup. Then the medicines," he ordered as he sat next to her on the bed.

Ji Ah smiled weakly.

—You seem like a very strict nurse.

-"I'm more efficient than a nurse," he replied, trying to keep his face serious, but a soft smile appeared on his lips.

Patiently, he helped her take small sips of the soup and made sure she drank enough water.

When he finally took the medicines, Jeong-Won sighed in relief.

—Thank you…-Y/N whispered, feeling the warmth of his concern enveloping her.

—"Just rest.You don't have to thank me for taking care of you,” he said, gently stroking her hair as she closed her eyes.

Time passed in silence, and although Y/N began to fall asleep, she could still feel Jeong-Won's firm and comforting presence next to her.

Before surrendering to sleep completely, he murmured:

—You're much sweeter than you look, Jeong-Won.

He looked at her tenderly, although his words caught in his throat. He just leaned down to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

—"Rest, Y/N. I will be here."

And so he did, staying by her side, determined not to move until he was sure she was completely okay. Because although he still didn't dare say it out loud, he knew that what he felt for her went far beyond duty or contract. It was love, even if they hadn't confessed it yet.

This story does not follow the plot of the series, tell me if you like it and if you want me to tag you in the chapters🫶

Tag list:

@anamiad00msday , @czarinera , @beebeechaos, @muchwita, @otakusimp1, @aori-aka03-blog, @preppyfella

THE CALL MASTERLIST

[xdjville]

what p1harmony calls you

pairing: p1harmony x gn!reader

cw: none

author's note: first post after 10 months, and the first time for p1h! i honestly lost motivation for a long time but i saw piwon live back in january and i'm lowkey (highkey) obsessed so...

#keeho

keeho's a babe kinda guy, through and through. and i mean explicitly, with no exceptions, to the point where your name starts to sound a bit foreign coming from his mouth. he also overuses it (he knows it and refuses to stop), almost every sentence that he says in your direction has to start or end with the petname or else he'd genuinely be sick. your contact name in his phone is 'ma babe 🫶' and he only occasionally changes the emoji.

#theo

your full name, and i mean full government name. honestly with theo, i feel like people who don't know he's in a relationship wouldn't realize that from the way he's referring to you, and you will not catch him using a petname, ever. also, if y'all remember that one interview where keeho said that theo has a lot of 'natural aegyo' and keeps talking in that whiny voice, he'd use that tone for you all of the time, purposefully making it more dramatic than what it's worth. it's all out of love though.

#jiung

jiung gets very creative with petnames for you, poetic even, and he's be loud and proud about it. no amount of gagging sounds from intak can stop him from calling you his cupcake or angel, and he pays lots of attention to how you're reacting to each one, making sure you're comfortable and trying to find the one you seem to like the most. when you're not around, he'd refer to you as his partner or his baby, the words sliding from his tongue like it's your actual name.

#intak

intak's favorites are babe or baby as well, mixed with an occasional short version of your name here and there. he'd only use your full name when he's upset about something, not necessarily because of you, but it'd be the first sign that something's wrong. when talking about you he definitely calls you his partner, because damn, you are his partner. he just can't stop himself from boasting a little, and honestly, how can you blame him.

#soul

soul would definitely go with either a weird variation of your name that he finds oddly endearing or an inside joke, one that may sound confusing to other people without context. generally, i feel like he'd like something that's really yours, that only the two of you understand or that no one else uses for you except him, like some kind of secret language. he'd use the same words to refer to you while talking to other people, and he honestly couldn't care less if they even understand who he's talking about. and no, he will not explain.

#jongseob

like theo, i honestly don't see jongseob as a petname kind of person, he'd probably just call you by your name, usually your full name (unless you don't like it). a little baby or love might slip from his mouth every now and then, usually when he's in a good mood, but it would usually still come along with your name. when it's in writing though? you're his sunshine, his biggest inspiration, the light of his life, and his one and only (see what i did here). whether it's notes he leaves in your bag or lyrics he writes with you in his mind, new adjectives keep coming to his mind like it's the only thing he can think about.

#taglist ➼♡ @0-hoony @suzayaaa (pls lmk if you'd like to be tagged for piwon as well!)

©xdjville

[damn-stark]

Chapter 2 Lavender green, lavender blue

Chapter 2 of Sinnerwoman

A/N- Ahhh!! The second chapter is here and I really hope you all like it just as much as I liked writing it!!

Warning- ANGST!! Weapons, blood, light violence. Talks of death! And small SA part. Spoilers for the show!

Pairing- Hwang Jun-ho x fem!reader

Episode- 1x09 & 2x01-2x02

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

——

A decision has been made. It was made the moment the Front Man revealed his identity, but what is the warmth and the sound of your lover's beating heart compared to a lifetime of bitter solitude and agonizing screams?

Nothing…nothing compares to what you have to return to, but you can’t stay or risk waiting. Jun-ho might be in a coma, he might wake up a month from now, and you would have waited a month or all your life if you had to, but you can’t risk it.

You have to leave, he has to forget about you for his own safety. And maybe it is a selfish decision, you got mad at him because he chose to leave you in the dark when he decided to put his life at risk to sneak onto that Island, but this is different. This is a sacrifice you're making to save his life. Does it make leaving him behind any better?

No, you don’t want him to forget about you. You don’t want him to meet someone else, and you don’t want him to live the life you wanted with him with someone else. You want him to only love you, but there’s no other choice. He won’t stop pursuing the Island and that will get him killed, and you don't think you’ll be able to survive this time if you have to watch someone else that you love die in your arms again, so you have to leave.

First, though, you have to snuggle up against him and share his warmth for a little longer. You have to hear the sound of his beating heart for a little longer to memorize its calming beat.

Just a little longer.

“Lavender’s green, dilly, dilly…lavender's blue,” you sing, or try because every word of the lullaby comes out shaky and like you’re out of breath because you can’t help the tears that run down your cheeks and stain Jun-ho’s hospital gown.

“If you love me…dilly, dilly. I will love you,” you continue and maybe you aren’t the best singer, but memories fade or get obscured, especially those of children, and that lullaby is one of the few memories you have of your sister when she would sing it to you at the orphanage. It means so much to you, to her memory and now when you think of that song, besides your sister, you’ll think of the only man you’ll love. The man who loved you; your Jun-ho, so you have to share it with him. Even if he can’t hear it.

Yet those last words uttered were like a pierce to the heart and with each impact, more and more of you was chipped away, leaving no more strength to continue the rest. Thus you stroke Jun-ho’s chest one more time before you shift your head to press a light kiss on the part of his chest that you were resting your head on. You then slide off the bed and sit up to study every inch of his face before you lean down and leave one last kiss on his lips.

Rather than getting up right away, you let the warmth of your lips linger on his to cherish the taste before you force yourself off the hospital bed.

When you’re standing at the foot of the same bed you steal one last glance at him, wishing you could have seen his eyes and talked to him one more time, but you keep telling yourself that what you’re doing is for the best, so you push yourself away with tears crawling down the curve of your cheeks.

Before you can leave the room and the hospital, however, you make a stop at the bathroom. You splash your face with water to wipe the tears off your cheeks and any marking they could have left behind. If you had any other clothes besides the ones you wore to the Island, you would have put them on now, but you have nothing. All you can do is disconnect your phone from any satellite that gives you service, and then the wifi to go offline, making the hospital the last place your phone would have been.

Once that is taken care of, you move to leave, but you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, so you stop and slowly scale your eyes to the scar of a skidding bullet above your ear, and every bad memory you have of the island comes rushing in, making you hesitate and dread having to return to that horrible and terrible life.

You almost have the nerve to return to Jun-ho’s bedside and pretend you weren’t going to leave. You don’t want to see it again. You don’t want to live it. You can’t hide behind a mask again, but…it’s a sacrifice you have to make for the man you love, so after a deep breath you make it out of the bathroom. You throw your phone away in the nearest trash can and stride out of the hospital.

No one stops you, and no one looks. You walk out alone under the cover of rain and leave everything behind.

——

*3 YEARS LATER.*

“…IT'S ALMOST BEEN THREE YEARS SINCE THE DISAPPEARANCE…”

Whatever had been said before didn’t matter. It didn’t even register as noise, but these words finally steal his attention. After all, it's been the same words they once repeated daily and then weekly, monthly, and then every year, so like his name, Jun-ho becomes alert when he hears them,

“…OF THE RESPECTED AND DECORATED DETECTIVE KANG…”

Yet when the news anchor begins to say your name he tunes out the news again. He can’t muster the strength to hear your name or see the portrait of you that they display on the screen without feeling agony pierce his heart. So with memorized timing, he tunes out those few seconds and then focuses again to hear the rest of the news bit.

“…SHE WAS LAST SEEN LEAVING THE HOSPITAL. IF YOU HAVE INFORMATION ON HER WHEREABOUTS PLEASE CONTACT YOUR LOCAL AUTHORITIES. THANK YOU.”

Yet no one ever does contact the authorities. It’s like you just vanished in the rainfall that supposedly hit that night.

Maybe if you hadn’t been seen at the same hospital he was taken to it would be easier to pass you off as dead, but you were seen. You made it out of the Island, just like he did, so how could he possibly forget you? You of all people. You out of every soul he knew. You…his epic love.

Just like his brother was his life. You were also all of his life and so much more of it. He would have to be dead to forget you.

Maybe death would be good though. That way he would forget what he saw his brother become. That way he could stop blaming himself for your disappearance, but when he looks up at the picture of you and him that he has attached to his locker mirror, he thinks to himself, “How can I possibly die without knowing where you are, or…what happened to you?”

He can’t die yet. He has so many questions, and so much unfinished business that also has nothing to do with you, but, you…

“You,” he thinks to himself as he pulls the picture off the mirror, catching at that moment the wandering eyes of his colleague before he quickly looks away and walks off without saying a word.

At first, the first few weeks of your disappearance, when he returned to work, all he would get was pitiful consolations. After that, anytime you were brought up they just passed him pitiful stares that were also mixed with curiosity as they wondered if he still cared.

He would tell them to fuck off, but he doesn’t want to waste his breath so he lets them think what they want. He’s still searching for answers and he’s the only one that needs to know that.

“I won’t stop looking,” he thinks to himself as he folds the picture so you and your timid smile are the center of attention.

After he strokes his thumb over the image of you he sticks the picture back on his mirror and tries to continue changing back into his normal clothes, but then the scar his brother left on his shoulder steals his attention.

Just like you, how can he possibly forget about In-ho? Sometimes he forgets what he saw, but when he sees his scar, when he feels the shape under his fingertips, he remembers what happened that day In-ho shot him and he’s hit with a wave of different emotions and questions.

One question he has is if In-ho has anything to do with your disappearance. You escaped the Island, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t find you after you escaped.

Maybe In-ho…took you away from Jun-ho’s life?

He doesn’t like that possibility, he can’t imagine that his brother is the one who stole the woman he loved from him, so he finishes changing. Once he’s done, like every day that came before, he leaves the department and heads to his car.

Yet this evening as he’s walking to his car he feels this sensation like someone is staring, so he stops walking, and lifts his gaze to look in the direction he felt the stare coming from.

However, when his eyes find the spot, there’s no one there. There’s just an empty street. So after a couple of seconds of lingering, he continues to his car. It’s only once he’s driven off that you come out from behind a pillar, and keep your eyes where you had seen him last before you take a deep breath and collect yourself to check your phone.

When you see what time it is you groan in annoyance and set off. There’s no hurry in your pace, or an urgency to get a ride to where you’re meant to be. You go on as if you’re taking a stroll through the city, enjoying the sights like a tourist, and enjoying the sounds of everyday life because that’s the one thing you like; the commotion of the busy city life.

Where you live now is like living in a construction site, or sometimes it feels like an office. In the off-season when there’s not an army of workers, there is a stillness that you appreciate, but with it comes a silence that drags on and if you weren’t used to it you would be driven insane.

That’s why you soak in the everyday commotion while you can. Even if it makes you late to your meeting.

“Hi, I’m here to join a party already at a table. Under the name, Oh,” you let the hostess know, and right away her eyes search the list on her screen. In a matter of seconds, her finger stops scrolling and she faces you with a perfectly practiced smile.

“Follow me,” she says and walks away from her podium to guide you to a secluded table at the end of the room, still nicely lit, but secluded to offer privacy.

Thus the walk is longer than usual, but when you reach the table the party waiting for you stands from their seats to welcome you to the table at long last.

“Here you go, ma’am, do you know what you want to order or should I leave the menu?”

“No,” one of the party members interjects. “We already ordered ahead for her. Let the waitress know she’s here.”

The hostess offers him a smile and nods in comprehension before she backs up and walks off, leaving you alone to face your rather patient dates.

“Forgive me,” you announce with a small smile. “I’m late. I know. There was some business I needed to take care of.”

You proceed to take your seat that faces the party you met up with, and they then take their seats after you, letting you meet them at their eye level and offer them a wider smile. “Shall we?” You suggest.

——

*2 YEARS AGO*

“…I don’t like to see you get hurt and if something had happened to you, or if something happens to you because of me, I…don’t think I could ever in my life forgive myself. I…love you.”

“I…love you.”

“I…love you.”

Jun-ho’s words are the commotion that keeps the quiet lobby from truly being deafening so late at night. While the picture in your hand keeps you company in a lobby where you’re the only one occupying it.

That is until you hear the glass front doors get pushed open and a single pair of wet footsteps walk in and change the occupation from one to two. Or so that’s what it sounds like.

You peer back thinking you’ll catch more people walking in with the person you’re waiting for, but alas, it’s a single man. A homeless man…maybe? He looks ragged with his beat-up clothes, his shoulder-length unkempt hair, and his dirty face.

But who are you to judge his appearance?

“The elevators are down the hall,” you share as you turn your head away from the man who seems lost. “If not. The receptionist start their shift at six. You’ll have to be gone by then.”

The man begins to walk down the hall while he offers you a response. “Oh…thank you. Goodnight.”

“Good night,” you deadpan and keep listening in. It’s not until you hear the elevator doors close that you bring up your picture again and keep admiring Jun-ho’s image, his heartwarming smile that he only showed to the camera because you were posing with him. Otherwise, you would only catch him in a picture alone if it was off guard. It’s why you have a lot of pictures of him off guard, and that’s why the ones with him actually looking at the camera and smiling are your favorite, but the one you hold in your hand is a picture you cherish the most because decorations from your favorite holiday adorn it, and he’s holding your little black Scottish Terrier, Gentleman.

If only you could be with them, especially now, but if you picked up your dog the moment you left the hospital that night, it would have made your disappearance questionable, so you left him behind with your neighbor the day you left for the Island. And Jun-ho…there’s hundreds of reasons why you can’t be with him…

That’s why you’re here alone, watching the snow start to fall and stick to the ground with a solemn look that will probably never leave. Once the snow is thicker you put the folded picture away and step outside where you break the snow’s path so some part of it can fall on you instead.

It takes a while for you to look up as you stand in your solitude and let the snow weigh you down first as if you’re just another object on the street. When you do finally break from your stupor, you slowly look up at the white sky intermingled with the night, and notice two perfectly shaped snowflakes dancing down from the sky in an attempt to reach the ground, so you put your hand out and try to catch them on your palm.

Nevertheless, one snowflake breaks away from its path and continues barreling to the ground, while the other lands on your palm all alone and melts right away.

Perhaps if the other snowflake had also landed on your palm, the lonely snowflake would have lived longer, but it was no good alone. Thus you fist your hand with disappointment and attempt to head back inside, but in that moment you then catch a man across the street.

He doesn’t seem conscious, he seems to be sleeping with the way he’s slumped on the ground, but you can’t be sure from where you are, so you make your way to him.

The moment you reach him you call out to him in hopes of gaining his attention. “Sir? Are you okay?”

You wait for a few seconds but there’s no response. His eyes remain closed and his breathing heavy, so you get closer and catch a whiff of alcohol, but you don't let that matter. You still shake him gently, causing him to slip.

When he doesn’t wake up that way you back away and immediately pull your phone out to call the police. And rather than staying there and waiting for the police out in the open, under all the street lights, you choose to walk off to a bench across the street and wait there where you won’t be seen.

You continue to wait and wait until finally a siren sounds and police show up to take the man out of the cold. And even then you don’t leave the cold yourself, you stay on the bench, letting the snow continue to pile up on your slouched figure as you wait and lose yourself on the untouched sheet of snow already covering the ground.

After some unknown time passes the headlights of a car break you from your stupor and you look up, noticing black SUVs with dark tinted windows pull up to the apartment building you had been waiting in. Thus ending your waiting period and making you dust the snow off your body before you get up to look like some creep waiting just outside the car.

Thankfully who you’re waiting for doesn’t leave you waiting too long, but the moment your eyes land on him your breath catches in your throat. And when his eyes fall on you, he comes to a stop and has the nobility to look at you in the eyes.

There’s no softness and no agitation. He doesn’t pass you a firm or deadpanned look. He seems curious about you, just as you are about him; Hwang In-ho, the older brother of the love of your life, and the Front Man.

Even so, neither of you exchange any words on any matter, he just says your name so you counter by stating his own name. “Hwang In-ho. It’s nice to meet you in a calmer environment.” You scoff and he just looks at you before he turns his body to face the car.

“Are you coming?” He asks and walks away without waiting for an answer as if he knows what you’re going to choose. Yet you still linger where you are to hesitate as if you have a choice when your mind's made up and has been forcing you to follow through with that decision for a year now.

It’s just…if you get that in that car, you officially go back to that nightmare. You leave your life behind. You leave Jun-ho, and trade it for…a life that turned its back on you?

“Your father is dead,” In-ho shares from inside the car as if he can read your mangled thoughts only getting more and more twisted—“you have a chance to start over. Not where you started, but by my side. Just as we discussed. Get in the car.”

You put your hands in your pockets to grab the picture and debate for a second longer before you choose not to live a lifetime secluded. If you’re going to be alone you might as well be alone there where you can be a piece upon the board. So you get in the car and watch your decision get sealed when the door closes.

“Is the host dead?” You ask first and foremost, skipping formalities because you already know each other's names.

“The flower arrangement was inappropriate,” he says in a deeper tone that could be passed as scolding.

“Well,” you respond with a growing malicious smile. “Look at it this way, now my flowers will be the first to decorate his grave.” You snicker and look over at him with a smile, but he looks at you nonchalantly.

“You can’t see Jun-ho anymore,” he changes the subject bluntly, causing your smile to fall and your amusement to fade right away.

“I know that,” you mutter as you turn your head away to look out the window. “That’s why I disappeared because I saw you. I knew who you were and what you meant to the games, and I…knew,” you pause and swallow back a lump of emotions that had begun to form in your throat. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to lie to his face.”

You see your eyes water through the reflection painted on the window, so you avert your gaze and continue. “He really cares about you…you know. He looks—looked up to you. It wasn’t long after we met that he told me about you, so…seeing you take that mask off…” you trail off and peek over at him, seeing that he can't look at you, his eyes are on his hands, and his jaw is clenched, giving away his discomfort on the matter.

“…was when I knew what I had to do to protect him because if he knew that I knew how to find you, he wouldn’t stop. He would get himself killed to get back on that Island again. To reach you, and,” you pause and feel the tears break away to fall down your cheeks.

“I can’t lose him. He means everything to me. And coming from someone with nothing, losing everything is like losing one's own life.”

In-ho hums, and you take that as a simple form of acknowledgment, but if you could understand the deeper meaning behind that simple acknowledging hum, you would know that he also knows what it’s like to lose everything.

“I already lost everything once. I can’t lose it again. So I know I can’t see him again,” you finish stating and then wipe the tears off your face to slowly look over at him.

“Are you sure there will be a place for me there?” You make sure to ask.

In-ho’s eyes drift to you to catch a glimpse of you before he reaches down and grabs a black box decorated with a pink bow to give it to you.

You don’t wait or question him. You pull at the pink bow to pull it off and then pull the lid off the box. When you reach inside you pull out a shiny silver mask of the top half of a crane’s face.

“This is where you belong,” In-ho assures you as you keep looking at your mask and realize there’s no turning back. This is you now. Again.

Another piece on the board…

Or the piece that ends it all.

——

*NOW*

“I’m glad that we are meeting in the city,” you muse as you pull your coat off and hang it on your chair. “The island tends to suffocate me.”

“You insisted on meeting here,” In-ho quips as he studies you as if that will give away where you were. “Annoyingly so.”

You shrug and flash him a sweet smile. “And you accepted. You had the power to deny my suggestion but you caved, so my point still stands.”

In-ho sighs deeply in annoyance before he snaps his gaze away to look at your third guest, the man in charge of recruiting the players for the games. “Anyway, considering some of us are meant to be missing, we're short on time. Tell us what you know,” he directs at the recruiter.

“Well,” the recruiter doesn’t leave you waiting. “As I’ve mentioned, player 456, Seong Gi-hun, and his…hired lackey,” he adds without masking his disgust. “Are trailing me.”

“What else is new,” you mutter and sit back as the waitress walks over with your cup of coffee just the way you like it. “Aren’t they on the subway lines every day?”

The recruiter sighs whilst he also picks up his spoon to mix his coffee. “On the dot. Which leaves me surprised that…such low lives are so loyal to their boring jobs.”

You pick your cup up and raise it to quip. “Money. Maybe we can offer them more to act like they don’t see you. That will keep player 456 chasing after his own tail.”

The recruiter laughs and you flash him a smile as you take a sip of your coffee. Albeit In-ho doesn’t share your amusement. “That won’t be necessary. You will let Player 456’s lackey find you.”

The recruiter lets his spoon go and blinks repeatedly in confusion before he questions the command. He’s not one to question any command given to him. If In-ho or anyone above him says bark, he will do so without hesitation, but he questions this command this one time. “Are you sure?”

In-ho nods. “Play with them or be straightforward. It doesn’t matter as long as Player 456 gets this key,” he shares before digging in his suit pocket and pulling out a brown card that he hands to the recruiter. “He won’t want any other thing but to see me. That key will have all he needs to find me.”

The recruiter doesn’t read the card. He blindly tucks it away and nods in comprehension.

“How many players have you recruited?” You interject now as you take a longer sip of your coffee.

“I’m close to getting all the players we need. I have of course left three spots open.”

“Good,” In-ho mumbles.

The recruiter licks his lips and leans forward. “Will you still go through with it, Captain?”

In-ho grabs the cup of his almost-finished coffee and leaves the question unanswered for a moment before he nods and then takes his last drink of coffee. Once he's done he proceeds to answer. “As long as player 456 does.”

You set your cup down and keep your eyes lingering on the coffee in your cup to avoid anyone’s potential stare.

“Will you?” The question gets passed and you know the Recruiter is looking at you. “It’s hard to imagine you getting your hands dirty. All those people.”

You swallow thickly and simply steal a glance at him before you take a sip of your coffee and keep your eyes on the cup rather than him to avoid letting him read any part of your current thoughts.

The Recruiter is no mind reader, but he’s crazy enough to know what’s lurking in the shadows of your mind. He always has.

“I’ve been a cop,” you argue. “I know how to get my hands dirty. It doesn’t bother me, and neither do the people.”

“Right,” he snickers. “You’re a lone wolf. With no social skills.”

You sit the cup down hard and snap your eyes to him, catching that stupid taunting smile plastered on his stupid face.

Just like when you were young he always finds a way to pester you.

“If you weren’t number two. You would die. There’s a difference between watching and actually playing. Did you ever play those games in the orphanages you—”

“My brother and I played all the time,” you cut him off before he can tick you off. Which is hard to do. You know how to keep your cool, but he just knows how to press your buttons. “Don’t worry about me,” you deadpan and then look at in-ho. “Shall we?” You press.

In-ho nods without fret, letting you grab your coat before you get up. In-ho mirrors your actions, and before he heads out he does add one last thing to the Recruiter. “Do you have us covered?”

Without a doubt the Recruiter tries to please In-ho by agreeing, letting In-ho then point his hand ahead to let you lead the way out of the cafe.

“See you soon,” the Recruiter throws at you as you walk away without giving your goodbyes, but there’s a reason you didn’t so you just offer him a feigned smile over your shoulder before you roll your eyes away and leave. Once you’re in the car you lean your body toward In-ho and don’t forget to complain.

“Why don’t we change recruiters? This one’s psychotic,” you grumble as you prop your elbow on the armrest and rest your chin on your hand. “He’s always been missing a few bolts in the head.”

In-ho grabs the newspaper of the day from the seat pocket and begins to read the articles. “Some will say that’s what makes him perfect for the job. Don’t let him get under your skin.”

You roll your eyes but keep watching him. “I know someone who will be better at the job. And he’s got a charm to him.”

“Who?” He immediately counters. “I never see you talk to anyone besides me.”

You sit up and look at him like he’s wounded you, while he hides his faint smile by keeping his eyes on the newspaper.

“Oh. Funny.” You grumble and turn away to look ahead with your body slumped in the seat.

“If you’re going to join the game you’ll need to socialize. Gain their trust. Or you’ll be a burden to me.”

“I’m not asking you to take care of me. We can pretend not to know each other.”

“That'd be impossible, who would you talk to then?” He teases you dryly. He’s teasing you!

It seems like you're starting to prefer when he was standoffish and blunt.

“Just be a player. Gain their trust and sabotage Player 456,” he puts it simply without long explanations because this is a matter you already discussed.

“No, no.” You shake your finger. “My job is not to crush Player 456 and destroy his last flicker of will. That’s your job. I am simply joining to not die of boredom watching the games.”

Or so you say out loud.

“Well whatever the case, there’s no fun in it if you isolate yourself,” he disregards you to keep insisting, making you sit back again and look out the window this time. “Do you want me to tag along on the 31st?”

“If it’s what you want,” he says while the newspaper in his hand rustles as he sets it down. “I’m gonna have snipers posted on the route. And two men that will walk in the club.”

You nod in comprehension and share what you already have planned. “Well, I’ll be your lookout then. I’ll have your back. Secure the perimeter, and figure out how many people Player 456 brings with him.”

Through the reflection on the window, you see In-ho nod before he turns his head to look at you before he bluntly changes the subject. “You went to see him didn’t you?”

You stiffen and slowly meet the reflection of his eyes. “You had me followed?” You snap.

“You’re making it harder on yourself,” he says without denying or admitting to the accusation which means it is true—“let him go. What if he had seen you? What if any of his colleagues had seen you?”

You roll your head his way to look him in the eyes with a firmly pointed look. “But he didn’t and he never does!” You argue with your voice raised higher than usual.

“It doesn’t matter if he never has. He can and he will,” he counters with no raise in his voice. He’s just trying to sound firm. “If he sees you, what then? You’ll throw away everything you sacrificed for him and for what? To see him dead?”

You furrow your eyebrows and puff out your chest, but can’t form any argument to throw back at him because you know he’s right. “He was all I had,” you say instead as your eyes wander down.

In-ho sighs and his voice is now softer. “I know, but you’re only hurting yourself more.”

You swallow back thickly and huff as a response. While In-ho steals a glance at you and lets his eyes linger on your drooped frown, your watery eyes, and your furrowed brows. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t show any emotion, he’s still, and providing a deafening silence that is…odd and uncomfortable. There was once a time when he could sit in the silence without it bothering him, but now?

He’s made a mistake welcoming you back on the island and allowing you to have a spot in the innermost circle, but he didn’t know what your presence would bring to his life and now that he lives amongst it, you are his new normal. So when that normal is disturbed it always feels so odd.

Like he’s upset the scales of life.

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

Maybe it’s because when you were growing up you were never asked for forgiveness from the man who called himself your father, so you learned to move on and not expect it; live like nothing happened in the first place and shove that problem away. Or maybe it’s because In-ho was/is right about you hurting yourself more by continuing to see Jun-ho, but now as dinner has rolled around, it’s like he didn’t make you upset to the point you haven’t talked to him since the car ride home hours prior.

As is your new normal, you set the dinner table for two, just him and you. It makes for quite a lonely dinner, but there isn’t anyone else either of you care about on the Island to have seated with you for dinner. Plus, after the awkward stage passed, it’s actually nice having dinner together. You look forward to it when you’re not upset at him.

Therefore once you finish setting the table you have the intention to go get him, but when you leave the dining room, there he is just outside the door. It seems like he was passing by the moment you opened the door.

Albeit, unbeknownst to you, he had been outside the door debating whether to come talk to you in order to balance the scales or not. Nothing he said was wrong, he was right and he was going to stand by that, but he also knows there could have been a kinder approach and he was going to explain that.

However, he also debated whether there was a point in asking for forgiveness. He isn’t your brother or your father, he’s your superior, your colleague, and your friend so he was leaning toward that choice. Yet you walked out before he could leave.

“Dinner is ready,” you let him know with a glass of wine in your hand. “But if you want sad ramen that’s okay too.”

In-ho is stuck again. You’re giving him a way out to do as he had chosen to do, but there you stand across from him with a tiny smile tugged on your lips, a pleading gaze you couldn’t keep discreet no matter how hard you try, a warm plate of food already expecting him, and no one else to fill the silence. You’re waiting and asking for nothing in return even if there is something he wants to offer you.

Thus, he accepts your invitation. He walks in, washes his hands, and sits down with no forgiveness to offer you in return. And it's not like you bring it up either. It's like you knew how not to expect it just to please him.

“My sister,” you offer him some more information on a past that you rarely share. “…Was older, so we were separated for most of the day at the orphanage, but when dinner rolled around we always made it our tradition to eat together. It was always my favorite part of the day and something I always looked forward to.” You pause and take a bite of your food, making sure to chew it well and swallow before you take a long drink of your wine and then continue.

“When I was adopted by my family, I was glad that I could continue that tradition with my mother and my brother and on occasion my father. And then…after Jun-ho and I became close, every day after work we would have dinner together. Whether it was in the park, in a car, or at one of our houses. That’s why I learned to cook so well. You’re lucky I’m not six anymore or we’d be having banana sandwiches.”

In-ho scoffs with amusement, letting a small smile appear on his lips as he chews. When he’s done with that bite he interjects. “I can’t imagine your sister was too pleased with your meal choice.”

You laugh softly and shake your head. “Never. She always scolded me, but they were my favorite and the only thing I was allowed to make at a young age, so on days she expected me to make them, she always had boiled eggs for us to eat after.”

In-ho’s smile stays on his face for a moment and it’s in that comfortable silence that was made by the fact that you could make him smile, that you bring up the matter that left a strain between each other.

“You were right, you know,” you say after you take a couple bites of your food. “About Jun-ho.”

You pick up your wine glass as you also lower your head.

“But,” you argue in your defense.

“No,” he cuts you off, and as you bring your eyes up to look at him, you notice that his smile and any sign of amusement is completely gone, leaving him…as always, nonchalant—“You need to completely cut him off. You need to forget the life you had on the mainland. That life will only drag you down and be your worst enemy.”

Tears slowly fill your eyes, but you’re tougher on yourself this time. You don’t cry, you simply snap back with no sign of spite, just nonchalance. “So should I be like you?”

In-ho clenches his jaw as he doesn’t know how to take that, but there’s also no other way to be. “Yes,” he deadpans.

You blink and look down at your food to take a couple of bites and then a longer drink of your wine, managing to finish it and serve yourself more as you think about what he said and that it's not what you want

You know what you yearn for, or so you tell yourself and you don’t want to become everything you despise. You know what you want and you don’t want to be the person that the masks turn you into.

Is he everything you loathe though? If you look at him in the eyes. Really look at him, will he be the reminder of the father you loathe? That’s who he wants you to be…is that who he is?

“Do you think that the workers here will obey me if I am more like you?” You fill the silence as you sit back with your new glass of wine in one hand, and a firmer look that isn’t like that warm look you carried moments ago. “I mean when I’m not in your shadow that is.”

In-ho sits up and holds your gaze as he nods with reassurance. “They’ll no choice will they?”

You tilt your head slightly and scoff.

“When your father was the Front Man…”

“He ruled with an Iron fist,” you continue for him since he wasn’t here when your father was the Front Man. He only knows stories. “Yes, but that’s a thing of the past. Done by different old men. I am no man. I left a different regime behind shall we say, and then I came back under you donning a position of power right away. Do you see where my doubt comes from him?”

“They don’t get to ask questions,” In-ho says. “They have to listen to you. Now if they catch you slipping they will take the chance to do what they want. And with that comes chaos that will eat you alive. Never falter.”

You slowly look down at your wine and begin to gently spin it. “I suppose it is easy to get rid of those who don’t listen here isn’t it?” You ask with a faint smirk.

“You don’t want to overstep either. Easy or not,” he interjects.

You slowly look up at him as you stop spinning your wine and nod stiffly. “I know,” you mutter.

He holds your gaze for a couple more seconds, letting you look him in the eyes and search for what you need.

Right away you see that his eyes are kinder, he is kinder—or was, from what Jun-ho has told you, and from the rare times he metaphorically takes his mask off. Albeit if you look deeper will you see everything you despise? Or something different?

You…don’t know.

But does that change anything?

——

*A FEW DAYS LATER*

“Can you hear me?” You ask for assurance after you made a discreet sweep down the street.

“Yes,” In-ho responds right away in his distorted voice. “We can hear you.”

“There’s nothing that stands out specifically, but I spotted two vans full of men who have not moved or left the car. Both the driver and the front passenger have earpieces on in both cars as well. Let me pass you the license plate,” you direct that last bit to the pink guards before you share what you mentally noted in your quick scouting trip around the block.

“I’m heading back toward the club now,” you follow up by announcing as you pick up your pace, but not in a way that will pique anyone’s interest. You’re fast enough to return to the club quicker.

“We spotted player 456,” a guard shares. “He and a companion are getting out of the car and are en route inside.”

“Wait for them to get inside and then go after them,” In-ho orders.

“There’s also a man in the driver's seat. It seems like he’s waiting.”

In-ho answers with a hum before he passes an order. “Get the license plate and share it with The White Crane,” he refers to your alias. “Take note of who he is, White Crane, and if he gets out of the car to go after player 456, stop him.”

You press the button on the earpiece to give your response. “Understood.”

You keep your pace with a new task in mind. No one stops you because you blend perfectly with everyone else on the busy street celebrating Halloween.

However, you do have to admit you are a bit envious that people seem to be having so much fun. It makes you want to walk into the club and get plastered to have fun too, but you’re on the mainland on a mission, so you’re strictly forbidden to even drink, you can only be envious.

Then again when you finally approach the club, you catch sight of the club and the giant line formed outside, and you admit that maybe being inside doesn’t sound as tempting.

“They’re inside,” a guard shares.

“Alright move in.” In-ho demands.

You finally reach the street where the Pink guards said the car and the man are, but there, in a black car parked in the exact spot you’re on the lookout for, sits Jun-ho. He’s in the driver's seat of the car that matches the license plate the guards told you about.

You could be mistaken. This could be some delusion, but you’re not sick and you can see perfectly fine through your mask, so no, he’s not some fever dream, it’s Jun-ho in the flesh.

Does he notice you?

Your heart stops at the sight of the man you love, making it feel like you’re about to be hit with a heart attack, so you stupidly stop in front of the car and look in wondering if he sees you too.

But how can it be if you’re wearing a fucking mask…

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it!

Of course, he’s involved. Why wouldn't he be in the middle of this ordeal?!

With or without you he didn’t let the Island go and now…you have to confront him and do what In-ho told you to do. There’s no other choice, but will you tell In-ho that it’s his brother working with player 456?

No.

Will you tell him that now that you know he’s here and once again involved in all this, that you have an absurd plan to confront him after 3 years of disappearing from his life?

Also no because he doesn’t need to know.

“I found the car and the driver,” you share through the earpiece after you manage to unglue yourself from your spot before Jun-ho can find you suspicious.

The moment you finish crossing the crosswalk though, the sight of Jun-ho getting out of his car catches your attention.

“He’s out of the car in pursuit of his friends,” you let your people know.

“Stop him,” In-ho deadpans with no clue that you’re referring to his brother.

“On it,” you assure him and cross the street properly, unlike Jun-ho who runs in the middle of a busy street like a madman, forcing a car to break.

He does make it across unscathed, but when he tries to just walk inside he’s stopped by the bouncer, so you have to pretend that you’re taking a smoke break so you don’t look like a stalker, or so he doesn’t spot you before you can stop him.

“Hey, no cutting. Go to the back of the line,” the bouncer tells Jun-ho off, which more than likely aggravates him knowing how impatient he can be.

“Police. Move,” Jun-ho snaps bluntly and once again tries to walk in, but again, the bouncer pushes him back.

“See your fellow officers waiting in line?” The bouncer points out to the line of people waiting. “It’s Halloween. Go put your uniform on first.”

With no warning and zero patience, you watch Jun-ho pull out his gun and point it at the bouncer as he shoves him back against a wall. “Does this look like a toy?” He threatens him, making you smile with amusement.

This time around the bouncer has nothing to say in return. He’s speechless, so Jun-ho is able to walk in, whilst you wait a couple of minutes before you drop the cigarette and stomp on the barely used stick to walk in without any resistance. Not because the bouncer was left shaken up after Jun-ho, it’s because they know who you are. That’s why In-ho chose this specific club.

Once you’re inside, you’re immediately enveloped by all the commotion, the raging music, and the bodies of people crowding the entrance and every step you take, making it hard to find Jun-ho, but not impossible. Luckily enough he didn’t make it far so you’re able to find him just on top of the metal stairs that lead to the main floor before he descends them and joins the madness.

With no other choice but to be like some haunting spirit you trail after him rather than being a part of the madness.

Every step he takes you take not so long after. Every turn he makes you do the same, and every person he shoves aside, you carefully slip past. There comes a point where he stops at a bar and shakes an unconscious man with a bright green horse mask, so you finally stop trailing after him. Instead, you pull your mask off and walk in the crowd of dancing bodies to find a way around Jun-ho.

“Dance?” A drunk man shouts and grabs your waist to try and pull you, but you shove him back harshly and snap at him while glaring at him.

“Do that again and I’ll tear your fingers off your hand to shove them up your ass.”

The man is left bewildered so he backs away, letting you disappear in the sea of bodies. And for a moment, because of the interruption, it seems like you lost sight of Jun-ho. You can’t find him again, but as you keep pushing through, you catch a glimpse of him so you run to get ahead. When you finally find an opening, you exit the crowd and stop across from him, making him come to an immediate halt as he notices right away.

You, the person who has been missing for three years. You, the woman he loves and has been searching for relentlessly. You stand there looking him in the eyes, unscathed, healthy, and just as beautiful as the day he lost you.

Yet it’s because he sees you so clearly in your flowing white robes that show off glimpses of your figure when the lights flash on you, that he can’t believe it’s really you. You have to be some divine spirit brought by stress.

“Come,” you wave him over with your hand without letting go of those dark eyes that glisten with brimming tears every time the flashing light basks his face. His jaw then drops slightly and his eyebrows rise as his eyes widen with shock. You proceed to not wait and turn to start walking away.

“Wait!” You hear Jun-ho call out after you.

You peer over your shoulder and see him do just as you want; he follows you, so you lure him to an employee-only door. It is hard making sure that he doesn’t lose sight of you or that actually reaches you since there’s so many people and it’s so crowded, but you manage to stay one step ahead and reach the employee-only hallway without having him stop you.

When Jun-ho sees that you disappear in the hall, he calls out your name and turns cautious when he approaches the door, letting you rush up the stairs to position yourself just around the corner and take out your taser gun.

Jun-ho continues to be cautious when he walks inside, but as he’s climbing the stairs he breaks into a run. In doing so, turning the corner hastily and not being able to stop you from hitting his neck with your taser gun that doesn't leave his flesh until he's knocked out.

Before he can hit the ground you catch him in your arms. “I'm sorry,” you whisper as you admire his face now that you can finally be close to him again. “I had to do it, but it will be okay,” you assure him before you lean down and press a kiss on his forehead. “I promise,” you whisper one last time against his temple.

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A/N- Ahhhhh xD