#it's embarrassing that i barely remember the last year and a half of my life

[fuckit-ventblog]

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[forlix]

𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠・h.h.

— you're uninviting, there's no doubt about that, your resolve like unpolished diamond and tongue like broken glass. but hyunjin finds you're not half as impossible as everyone assumes you are.

words・11.1k

pairing・idol!hyunjin x female stylist!reader (inspired by this)

genres・fluff, angst, eventual smut so MDNI, some hurt/comfort, some humor, mc is a bad bitch and hyunjin is a #simp, enemies? to lovers, sexual tension, workplace relationship, mutual pining, slow burn, nonlinear narrative

warnings・reader vividly remembers an anxiety attack, alcohol is consumed, lots of compartmentalization and imperfect communication, complex people feeling complex emotions, smut warnings under the cut

playlist・farewell, neverland by txt・like crazy by jimin・black friday by tom odell・collide by justine skye・crying lightning by arctic monkeys

a/n・call me victor frankenstein bc i've given birth to a MONSTER (except i actually love and care for mine ofc). this was easily the greatest challenge of my fanfiction-writing career and it feels like my magnum opus; i hope it's worth the wait! also a huge shoutout to sahar for being my voice of reason and my biggest supporter :’) i don’t deserve u i love u

smut warnings・cunnilingus, overstimulation, creampie (practice safe sex!!), mild dacryphilia

Present day. Cannes, France. 5:54 P.M.

You’ve long made peace with the fact that Hwang Hyunjin is incapable of shutting up for more than five minutes.

As it is, the man has a mouth that runs like a cross-country marathon; then throw in his uncanny aptitude for annoying you, and what do you get? A nonstop slew of terrible jokes and teasing quips, tailored according to his thorough mental manual of what gets under your skin hardest and fastest.

This is the reality you live in, presumably because you were evil in your past life, and you’ve steeled yourself to see it through.

But twenty minutes have passed since you and Hyunjin ducked into the back of a cab and gave the driver the show’s address—and, as stunning as the red rooftops and lazuline coastline of Cannes are, you find you’re more interested in Hyunjin’s peculiar silence.

You move your gaze to his face. He’s looking outside, his chin resting upon the palm of his hand, the afternoon sunlight dusting over his chiseled features like polish on pottery; his complexion an exuberant gold against the cream-colored linen that makes up his clothing.

Maybe it’s because you opted for a simpler makeup look today, leaving the most telling contours of his face warm and bare, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last year committing his every mannerism and expression to memory. Nevertheless, you see through his pursed lips and tight brow right away.

“Nervous?” 

Hyunjin’s head swivels towards you with a small snap, like he’s forgotten you’re here. His lips fall open, their glossy peach color glinting with the small shift.

“No,” he replies reflexively, but then his facade flickers. “Fuck, maybe a little. It’s just hard to believe, you know?”

You do know. It was a huge honor for both of you when Hyunjin was named the newest global ambassador of Versace. For you to be attending the brand’s pop-up show in one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, among some of the world’s most prolific creatives, is truly incomprehensible. Even you’ve been feeling antsy since you landed; you can only imagine Hyunjin’s anxiety.

You have never been good at consolation. You think your mouth is too coarse, your propensity for honesty too strong. But you’ve always known just what to say when it comes to him.

“Just remember who you are.”

Hyunjin takes a few seconds to process your words, but his understanding washes over his whole body; straightens his back; hardens his gaze. You don’t see this change in posture, though. You’re too busy looking anywhere else, all of a sudden feeling quite embarrassed.

Nor do you see the private smile that disperses across Hyunjin’s lips; his eyes softening so, so marginally when they peer at your profile; his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, as if contemplating reaching for you with a mind of its own.

Thirty seconds. That is the amount of time you have left to bask in this otherworldly tranquility. And then he speaks.

“I want you to meet my parents.”

Your arm reacts before your mind can. Without having to turn your head an inch, you smack him squarely in the bicep, sending him crumpling against his door with a bark of a laugh; “please,” he adds, and you’re biting back a smile as you hit him again, with less conviction this time.

The cab driver nearly misses an exit, too busy wondering about the peculiar pair in his backseat and the nature of your relationship. He can’t tell if you hate each other or if you’re married.

One year ago. Seoul, South Korea. 8:42 A.M.

“I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me.”

“For my newborn daughter.”

“Yeah, okay. I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me for your newborn daughter. What does that brat have that I don’t?”

“My genes, to begin with.”

“That’s unfair. She’s using—”

An important-looking pair of women step out of the nearest elevators, the clacking of their heels ricocheting sharply off the lobby walls. Hyunjin straightens his back so quickly he thinks he pulls a muscle. He and Seojun incline their heads in perfect sync, their “good morning”s prim and professional.

“She’s using cheats,” Hyunjin hisses the second the women are out of earshot again, and this wrests a laugh from the older man at last.

Around one month prior, Seojun confided in Hyunjin that he and his partner were expecting their first child soon, and that he would be putting his career on indefinite hiatus to welcome her into the world.

Hyunjin had never felt so conflicted in his life. On one hand, he’d grown closer to his stylist over the last two years than he’d thought possible, and he knew it was stupid to be anything but delighted for him and his expanding family. On the other hand, it was precisely because they’d become so close that he wanted to grab the man by the ankles and shake the decision clean out of his body. He couldn’t imagine a dressing room or tour bus without him.

Today is a Saturday, but it’s also Seojun’s last day with the company. Hyunjin dragged himself to the JYP building at half past eight with much less reluctance than he let on. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Fourth floor,” Seojun instructs after the pair enter the elevator, and Hyunjin presses a knuckle to the according number. “Thanks.”

The doors slide shut; the floor numbers tick upwards.

“What was her name again?” Hyunjin asks.

“Y/N,” Seojun returns. “Y/L/N.”

“Is she here already?”

“No, she’ll be here at nine.”

There’s a small pause. 

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“I feel like I’m being married off to another family for political reasons.”

“God, I can’t wait to be free of your theatrics.”

At this, the two men make eye contact; exchange smiles. The elevator announces their arrival to the fourth floor, and they step through the doors.

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seojun reassures. “She’s the best of the best. I hear she’s basically running the industry these days. I’m surprised she agreed to take you on.”

“I’m surprised an old fry like you knows someone like her,” Hyunjin replies, and the look Seojun gives him is so withering that he thinks he pulls a muscle again with his apologetic bow.

“You’re not wrong, though,” Seojun concedes. “We happened to work on the same project back when she was still a small name, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. She’s a great kid. Ambitious, hardworking, strong as hell—”

They arrive outside their destination, and Hyunjin holds open the door to the conference room. Only to find that Seojun has stopped in his footsteps, temporarily stunned by a new realization.

She reminds me of him.

“He’s forgotten how to walk,” the him in question whispers like he’s narrating a nature documentary, and the moment is over. “Is this what fatherhood does to a man?”

Seojun kicks Hyunjin into the room by the seat of his pants.

The minutes pass slowly. Seojun moves his eyes between the door and his phone every few seconds, visibly antsy about the imminent meeting. In the meantime, Hyunjin makes the groundbreaking discovery that these office chairs are absurdly and almost suspiciously comfortable. All it takes is a chin upon his palm and a few seconds of shut-eye, and he’s suddenly slumped over the table, snoring softly into the crook of his elbow.

At 8:57, Seojun’s phone lights up with a new notification. At 8:58, he notices that Hyunjin is asleep, and closes his hand around the crumpled receipt in his pocket. At 8:59, he scrunches said receipt into a ball and launches it in Hyunjin’s direction. It hits him squarely on the head, and the boy is nearly knocked to the floor like a bowling pin.

“For that,” Hyunjin sputters, “I’m the godfather.”

“Absolutely the hell not.”

Then, it is 9:00.

When the door of the conference room opens, Hyunjin is still trying to gather his wits, wondering if the bastard is leaving the makeup industry to secretly pursue a career in professional basketball. He just barely notices the unfamiliar figure who steps into his line of vision.

“There she is,” Seojun greets warmly, rising to his feet right away. “God, how long has it been? Two, three years now?”

You’re not doing anything remarkable when Hyunjin sees you for the first time, simply walking across the room and bowing graciously in Seojun’s direction, but he is immediately under the vague impression that you’re cutting through space as you move, scorching the particles of air that dare obstruct your path. 

With his head cocked slightly to the left, like a fascinated puppy, Hyunjin watches the stunning smile that forms on your lips when you take Seojun’s hand; your finger as it tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with the elegance of rippling silk. His mind feels impossibly slow, like you’ve tapped open his skull and robbed him of his ability to think.

Then, you toss Hyunjin a look over your shoulder, and he’s reminded of lightning forking towards the earth. Terrifying, volatile, beautiful.

“Something like that,” you say, turning back to Seojun, and time starts to move again. “It’s great to see you again, Mr. Lee. Congratulations on the baby.”

“Please, Seojun is fine,” he answers hastily. “And thank you. Thank you for all of this, actually. I can’t tell you how excited we are to have you.” 

“You’re too kind—I’m excited too.”

Upon uttering the word “we,” Seojun delivers Hyunjin a fleeting side-eye; he takes the hint and pushes himself to his feet, feeling uncharacteristically clumsy as he moves towards you.

The second time he meets your gaze, it feels wrong, almost, for him to hold it for as long as he does. Like he’s approaching your throne with his chin held high and eyes fixed forward instead of his head sweeping the ground.

Except he swears he senses a strange warmth within the rings of your irises, and he spends every second of eye contact following, chasing it, almost craning his neck with how badly he wants to get a closer look. Until he’s as close to you as is socially acceptable for a first meeting and comes to a halt.

He ends up losing its trail, but he won’t forget that it’s there. 

“My client, I’m guessing?” You say, extending your hand. “Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

Your fingers are freezing cold where they meet his, and Hyunjin already knows that melting the permafrost that coats your flesh and guards your soul will be the tallest task of his life.

But he finds his next words accompanied by an involuntary smirk; he’s nothing, if not tenacious.

“Hyunjin,” he returns. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Nine months ago. Paris, France. 6:16 P.M.

Hyunjin isn’t sure why—maybe you forget that he can still steal glances at your reflection over your shoulder or through the gaps of your fingers—but he’s learned over the last four weeks that you’re different, gentler, when you’re doing his makeup.

Your cold hands request instead of demand that he angle his head a certain way or suck in his cheeks. Your syllables are rounder somehow, your voice never traveling above a murmur. Even your eyes mellow out when you move in really close, your pupils dilating as you detail the final touches to the fresco you’ve painted upon him.

Your expression doesn’t give you away (it never does), but his hunch is that there’s a sprinkle of doting somewhere among the intense focus. That would explain why he feels like a flower in the moments when your fingertips and gaze move so carefully over his skin, like you’re touching his petals, trying not to tear them.

Too bad you never let him daydream for long.

“Close.”

“Huh?”

“Your eyes. Close them.”

His lashes have hardly brushed his lower lids when you begin to empty what feels like an entire bottle of setting spray on him. At the moist surprise, Hyunjin’s features scrunch up around his nose and he lets out a distraught hack like an old man.

A few seconds later, the barrage stops, and he cracks open a wary eye to scope out his surroundings. You wait until he does this to give his face one last spurt.

“Witch,” Hyunjin mutters, clawing back up the vanity chair.

“Thank you,” you reply, completely earnestly.

And whatever Hyunjin was going to say next suspends instantly on his tongue when you bring the pad of your thumb to the very edge of his lower lip and drag it across the soft flesh. He wonders if you know how hard he tries not to look at your mouth whenever you tend to his. He wonders if there’s anything you don’t know.

“You smudged your lipstick already.” There’s a small streak of coral pink on your hand when it falls back to your side. “See? That’s why we need the setting spray.”

“Uh huh.” And Hyunjin spots a ghost of a smile flit across your face, gone nearly as soon as it appears. The only evidence of it ever existing is the quickened heartbeat it leaves behind within him.

“You’re done, by the way,” you say, stepping aside. “Take a look.”

He slips out of his seat and moves closer to the vanity, peering at his reflection as curiously as if he’s never seen it before. But that’s how he’s felt since he started working with you.

Seojun was right: you are the best that the makeup industry has to offer. Hyunjin has come to understand this for multiple reasons. Your phone screen is incessantly illuminated by new notifications and incoming calls. The other stylists heed your advice like it’s the law. Brushes and pencils move like water when it’s you maneuvering them. And then some.

He would call what you have “talent,” but he knows it’s more than that. You show him a new version of himself every time you turn a mirror in his direction, like there are facets of him that are visible to you and you only. As much as he delights in the notion that you have such intimate knowledge of him, it should be impossible, considering you’ve only known him for two months. So no, it’s not just talent that you possess. It’s some combination of talent, hawkish perception, and raw artistry that is utterly inhuman—and sexy as fuck.

Speaking of sexy. Hyunjin’s look is relatively rudimentary tonight, the makeup light, the outfit a simple black tank top beneath a jacket and pants made of bright red velvet. But it’s the details that tie the whole thing together: the wide, loose sleeves causing the jacket to slip continually off his shoulders; the inner layer tight in all the right places. His face doesn’t look half bad either, with the sultry carmine powder that fringes his eyes and the intentionally mussed state of his hair. He pushes a hand through the dark locks, regarding himself with thorough appreciation.

You appear in his periphery as you start cleaning up your work station. “You can just take the jacket off when your sweat glands start malfunctioning, by the way. I thought you’d appreciate that detail.”

At this, his smize cracks into a laugh, the sound loud and uninhibited and uniquely yours to hear. “You suck.”

He looks away from his reflection just in time to glimpse another of your phantom smiles, and he thinks it’s so painfully on brand that the two times it’s appeared tonight have both been from you making yourself laugh. You might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. He might be obsessed with you anyways.

“Well?” You implore. “What do you think?”

“No notes.” 

It’s the answer you’re expecting. You survey him from head to toe one last time, decide that you, too, are satisfied, and slip your makeup into your bag; hike its strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you after the show, then.”

You have an important conference call to attend before tonight’s concert, hence why Hyunjin had to come in early for hair and makeup. This is also the reason why the two of you have been the only people in the dressing room for the better part of an hour. 

It’s rare that he ever gets you alone, and he doesn’t want it to end. Not just yet.

“I lied, actually,” he calls. “I do have notes.”

You already have one foot out the door when you hear this, and you turn around so slowly and in such disbelief that he has to fight to constrain his laugh—the concept of imperfection is truly unthinkable to you. Insufferable, like he said.

“Do tell,” you say, dropping your bag back onto the floor.

“You have any jewelry for me?”

You chew on this for a moment. You did have a selection of necklaces prepared for tonight, but they were heavy and numerous, not exactly the best-suited for the group’s dynamic sets. You still like them, granted, and you know Hyunjin would as well.

You articulate all of this to him, and he asks if he can take a look at them anyways. “Come here, then,” you say, the words so tantalizing when they fall from your lips that nearly trips over himself trying to obey.

You take out a flat rectangular box from your bag and set it down in front of the lightbulb-studded mirrors. Hyunjin observes quietly as you show him its contents: three thick, gold chains with varying lengths and boasting different pendants, plus a beaded bracelet and an assembly of rings of the same material. His devious plan aside, he does love the selection.

“You’re sure you won’t be uncomfortable?”

He nods, and you pick up the longest of the three chains; turn to him expectedly. He takes this as his cue to move closer to you, except he overshoots a little, and he feels the tips of his shoes accidentally bump into the ends of yours; discerns the warmth emanating from your body against his own. He expects a withering glare, a kick in the shin, maybe, but you don’t seem bothered by the proximity at all, unblinking as you bring your hands around the either side of his neck and fasten the first necklace with a soft tap. Your fingers then brush over his collarbones to adjust the pendant, and he thinks your hands would have to be numb not to perceive the frantic heartbeat threatening to burst straight out of his skin.

Entire minutes pass before Hyunjin musters the courage to actually look at you. By then, you’re already working on the third and final necklace. It’s not a surprise that your face is mere inches away from his; he’s been watching your reflections out of the corner of his eye; he knows you’re closer to each other than you’ve ever been. But there are parts of you that the mirror doesn’t show—the soft curve of your lashes, the concentrated narrow of your eyes, the shapely protrusion of your pursed lips—and these surprise him so thoroughly that he slips and slides out of his right mind.

You are the type of beautiful that’s been around longer than humans have, the same as that of the true blue color of forget-me-nots. And Hyunjin feels enveloped, intoxicated by you from this minuscule distance. The idea forms numbly in his head that maybe, just maybe, he was put on this earth to admire you.

In this inebriated state, he makes a venturesome decision.

When you finish centering the last pendant upon the his chest, you are about to take a step back and review the updated look, but you’re debilitated by the feeling of fingers grazing over your hip—lightly, so lightly that you mistake them for a gust of wind at first, but the contact is enough to push the small of your back against the edge of the counter. Then, both of Hyunjin’s hands reach behind you, pressing flat against the marble surface, and, just like that, he has you right where he wants you, ensnared between cold stone and hot flesh.

And so begins an equilibrium so fragile that it’ll shatter if one of you so much as blinks the wrong way, your rattled breath fluttering against his lips, his eyes dark and hooded and out of focus as they survey the fine lines of your expression. It still doesn’t give you away (it never does), but he finds that in this moment he just doesn’t care.

“Let me take you out,” he murmurs. “One date.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You reply under your breath.

“You know what I’m talking about, beautiful.”

Upon uttering that last word, he angles his head almost imperceptibly, the movement challenging, daring you to say something about it. But you don’t. You merely hiss out a whetted “you’re fucking crazy,” and that’s his opening to drag this on a little longer; push your limits a little more.

“About you? Damn straight.”

At this, finally, fucking finally, there is a semblance of something in your face that isn’t just your usual mildly-irritated nonchalance. Instead, he detects surprise in the whites of your eyes as you widen them; as you part your lips with a response that only comes much later.

And he’s surprised by your surprise. Surely, with your skills of observation, you would’ve noticed long ago how his world shrinks down to only you and your gorgeous voice and your confident glare and your shitty sense of humor whenever he’s been granted the privilege of your presence.

This might be the first time he’s admitted it out loud, but he hasn’t tried—hasn’t been able—to hide how he feels about you, not now, not ever. It’s been that way since the moment the sole of your shoe met the carpet of that conference room on the fourth floor of the JYP building.

 “Hwang—” You begin.

“Hyung!”

At the sound of a third, new voice, your arms tense like you’re about to shove Hyunjin off of you, but he only leans in further, so that his lips almost graze your jaw and your hands have nowhere to go except the taut surface of his chest. The surprise is gone; now you’re just pissed. He can feel the heat of your furious eyes and the tremor in your hands as you form fists around the fabric of his top. But he takes his sweet time in scooping up the bracelet and rings, and only afterwards does he pull away from you and straighten to his full height.

“Hey, Innie!” Hyunjin chirps, and Jeongin materializes in the doorway, looking thoroughly perturbed by the older boy’s sunny tone. “What’s up?” 

In the meantime, you turn around to snap the lid of your jewelry box shut, and it takes a singular glance in the mirror for a truly horrible realization to settle upon your shoulders. You don’t think anybody would be able to tell even if you announced it outright, but you know yourself and the little nuances of your face all too well.

You’re flustered.

You feel like a horror movie heroine breaking the fourth wall. 

“Nothing, weirdo. I was just announcing my arrival,” Jeongin says. Thank fuck you did, Hyunjin thinks to himself, completely unaware of the epiphany you’re having behind him. “Chan-hyung mentioned you were here already? Why?”

“She’s in high demand.” Hyunjin points out the she in question by jutting his chin in your direction. “The usual.”

“Ah.”

Jeongin inclines his head towards you in polite greeting. You return his hello, but your expression starts to feel tight when his eyes dart between the strange smile on Hyunjin’s face and your awkward stance (still glued to the edge of the counter) as he drops his duffel by the couch. The boy isn’t stupid, unlike his older counterpart.

“I saw a vending machine on my way here,” Jeongin says, turning to leave the room again. “You want anything, hyung? Noona?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say.

“I’ll have whatever you have,” Hyunjin says.

Jeongin flashes a thumbs-up and dips out of the room, perhaps a little more hastily than he intends to come across. And then there are two. Again.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps anymore, and then you turn to glower at Hyunjin so intensely that he thinks you’re about to place a curse on his whole bloodline.

Then, your phone starts vibrating, and he knows he’ll live to see another day.

“You still owe me an answer,” Hyunjin calls as you turn around and leave the room.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply.

One day, I’ll break her, is the predominant thought that resides in Hyunjin’s head as he slips on the remaining jewelry; watches your figure disappear around a corner. One day, I’ll break his face, is the predominant thought that resides in yours as you stalk away. That’s the two of you, in a nutshell.

Six months ago. Osaka, Japan. 3:03 P.M.

When you walk into the dressing room, you find Haeun hunched over an overflowing photo album with her hands forming fists in her hair, muttering to nobody in particular, “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

There’s an amused look in your eye as you set your bag down by Hyunjin’s empty vanity chair. She hasn’t noticed your presence yet; approximately three hallways down, the members are rehearsing for tonight’s performance on the main stage of the Kyocera Dome, and the music is so loud that you think you actually saw the walls vibrating while you were in the hallway moments ago.

You rise to your tiptoes and encroach upon her, waiting until she’s within reach to tickle the back of her neck. She nearly flies out of her seat with a shriek that can be heard over the heavy bass.

“Never gets old.” You hand her the photo album that went soaring also, and Haeun snatches it back with an affronted flourish.

“I can’t remember the last time you said hi to me normally, unnie.”

“Me neither, now that you mention it.”

Haeun and Han are your favorite stylist-idol duo in the world because they’re so eerily similar—and it’s adorable. They both illuminate every room they walk into; they both have grins too big for their faces, laughs too loud for their lungs. You always regret leaving your sunglasses at home when you catch sight of the effulgent pair.

But today you cannot detect the usual radiance in Haeun’s voice, nor so much as a hint of her easy grin. Then again, that’s another quality that she and her client share; they’re both well acquainted with the burdens that come with unwavering passion.

Every stylist has their own modus operandi. Haeun’s is a scrapbook of images that she cuts out and saves from catalogs, advertisements, newspapers, et cetera. You’ve seen it many times before, but never in such a state: messy handwriting stuffing the margins to their very brims, numbers and symbols like clusters of rainclouds over a sea of different outfits, arrows and circles and squares highlighting pant cuffs and cascade collars and dangling earrings. Telltale signs that Haeun hasn’t a clue as to what Han will be wearing tonight.

You gnaw on your lower lip, deliberating your next move. You end up placing a firm hand against the album’s cover and pushing it closed.

“Come with me,” you say. “We’re gonna try a new approach.”

Haeun opens her mouth to protest, but unfortunately you have an extensive track record of being right.

“What do you have in mind?” She sighs instead.

“You’ll see.”

With that, you stand up, tuck a small towel under your arm, and angle your head in the direction of the music.

The two of you make your way through the labyrinth of hallways that comprise the venue’s backstage. Eventually, the color of the floor changes from speckled white to solid black, and you step onto the part of the stage that is concealed from the audience by drawn curtains and heavy equipment. You say a quick hello to the group’s manager as you dip past him, and eventually reach the edge of the curtains, where you and Haeun have a good view of the eight members as they run through their setlist for tonight’s concert.

Haeun settles into the spot beside you, still confused as she follows your gaze. 

“Let me ask you this,” you say, just audible over the din. “Can you style a performer if you don’t know how he performs?”

And understanding seeps over her features like poured tea.

“I want you to watch him,” you continue. “Tell me how he performs.”

Han’s part begins, as if on cue. His voice rings out through the empty stadium as he ducks to the front of the formation, a microphone held loosely to his lips, his face taut with focus. Haeun stares at him for some time, silently trying to fathom her observations, but she sees you shaking your head in the corner of her eye.

“Don’t think, Haeun. Just speak.”

She blows out a deep breath before obliging. “It’s hard to picture Han doing anything but laughing or making other people laugh, he’s so goofy and lighthearted most of the time. But he’s like a different person on stage. He’s so intense, it’s almost intimidating. Not intimidating in a douchey way, though—you just get the impression that he’s very confident in himself and his music.

You don’t say another word, but don’t need to. She’s hit her stride.

“His voice and enunciation are so clear. It’s crazy how he sounds exactly like the studio recording. Plus, his delivery feels genuine; he’s not just reciting lyrics, but speaking straight from his heart.

“And this is gonna sound bad, but I didn’t know Han could dance. Like, yeah, I knew that he could dance, but not like this. His movements are so sharp that I feel like my attention is being—”

Right there.

She cuts herself off, reaching the same conclusion.

“It’s his turn to talk, and he wants you to cling to his every word," Haeun articulates slowly. "He’s demanding your attention. He needs you to listen. That’s how he performs.”

A satisfied smile bolts across your face like lightning. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Haeun pictures her scrapbook again, and there are now only a few articles of clothing and accessories that fit the framework you’ve helped her forge. She’s almost dizzy with disbelief, tearing her eyes from Han to look at you instead.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“I do, but I appreciate the reminder.”

She can’t help but giggle. It’s a you answer if she’s ever heard one. “Do you do that with all of your clients?”

Haeun asks the question arbitrarily, without thinking. But you respond in a way that she doesn’t think she’s ever witnessed before, and she’s momentarily baffled by the sight: you hesitate.

As the song’s final chorus approaches, Hyunjin is the one folding himself into the center of the eight-person throng. You can only see his back from this angle, but even then it’s palpable how expertly and effortlessly he molds his body to the modulations of the music; how much fervor and feeling he expresses with every jerk of his spine and flex of his hands.

Within a few short seconds, innumerable descriptors and sensations skim the surface of your mind—but one word knocks the rest clean out of the water, the way it always does when you watch Hwang Hyunjin perform.

Artistry.

“No,” you reply. “Not all of them.”

And where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?

Haeun furrows a brow, understandably puzzled by this response, but you don’t elaborate. Partially because you feel like being coy, but mostly because you know that any explanation you offer will sound like a confession.

The song ends, leaving your ears ringing with the abrupt absence of sound. The members hold their poses with heaving shoulders, staring out into the empty stands until the stage manager’s voice comes through the monitors.

“And that’s a wrap! We’re all set for tonight. Good work, everyone.”

There is a ripple of movement around the stage as the boys relax. Jeongin jogs over to Minho, hoping to review a particularly challenging dance break; the manager asks Chan if he has a second to discuss travel logistics; Seungmin plops onto the edge of the stage and downs the rest of his water; Hyunjin beelines toward you the second he sees you, because of course he does.

You get a good look at him as he skips closer. Stray blonde locks plastered against his damp skin, tank top dyed several shades darker by the perspiration rolling down his neck, the muscles of his arms actually rippling as he swings them around stupidly, a shit-eating smile plastered across his stunning face.

You’re annoyed before he says a word.

“I didn’t know they were letting fans backstage now,” he hums happily. “Want an autograph, gorgeous?”

“Put a sock in it.” You whisk the towel you’ve been holding in his direction. “Wet freak.”

But he catches and tosses it over his shoulder straightaway, and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle. You’ve seen this movie before. You know how it ends.

“No.” You take a shaky step back. “No, nope, don’t even think about—”

The next thing you know, Hyunjin is lunging towards you and winding his arms around your waist, nearly sweeping you clean off your feet as he pulls you into his sweaty embrace. To your complete dismay, your face presses flat against the clammy plane of his chest. “Call me a wet freak again, go on,” he manages to say through his laughter. 

In response, one of your hands wriggles free of its slippery prison and snatches the cuff of Hyunjin’s ear with impressive accuracy. He yelps and loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t relent completely, not even when he catches sight of the murderous expression on your face and cackles so forcefully his whole head is thrown back.

You tighten your grip. “Wet,” you seethe, “freak.”

“Ow—okay, don’t make it hot, what’s wrong with you?”

“Wha—what’s wrong with YOU?!”

As the two of you dissolve into your fatuous arguing, Haeun is no longer sure that she’s still standing here. She’s not even sure if she’s in her right mind anymore. She thinks she might be hallucinating the way everything about Hyunjin softens next to you, or the way your biting tone only seems to nibble when it’s him on the receiving end.

“Psst. We’ve been placing bets on them. You want in?”

Han suddenly materializes next to Haeun, and she would have been jumpscared into a different dimension if she wasn’t so fixated upon the bizarre occurrence before her.

But what if she’s not hallucinating?

No, not all of them, you’d said, like you were disclosing a forbidden secret.

“Yes,” she says, and Han beams. “Absolutely.”

Three months ago. Seoul, South Korea. 2:26 A.M.

On a tranquil Saturday night, you’re sitting at your desk, your knees tucked to your chest, the newest episode of your drama playing quietly on your laptop, a half-empty glass of rosé and open sketchbook laid before you. This is your happy place—a safe haven that the trials and tribulations of the real world can’t reach. But you think you’ve really gone and lost your mind when you find yourself thinking about your job.

Well, not your job, exactly. More like the man who makes your job feel fucking Sisyphean.

You know your way around fabric and foundation better than anyone, but you have never struggled with anything as much as you have trying to navigate Hyunjin. You show up to work every day ready to just put some makeup on the man; instead, you wind up stumbling around the potholes of his dimples and the hills of the veins that run over his forearms and hands like a hopeless drunkard. Scouring the creases of his smile and the oscillations of his voice like they’re topographical maps. Mentally replaying your interactions with him time and time again like you’re monitoring security footage, trying to detect illicit activity in every casual touch he leaves on your shoulder or waist; every babe or gorgeous he throws your way, seemingly without a second thought.

You’ve been trying to understand him and his intentions for seven months now, and your efforts have yielded no fruit whatsoever, save for a few theories that you feel insane for even humoring.

You down the rest of the blush-colored liquid, and as you set down your empty glass you notice your fingers itch with a familiar urge. The pen that you’ve been twirling over your knuckles stills, then swivels; its tip hovers over the last free corner of the sheet of cartridge paper below you. And then it presses upon the surface and starts to move, as naturally as if on its own.

When you were little, you came across a children’s book that you no longer remember the name of, about a little girl with a magical pen that brought her every drawing to life. You decided then that you would one day be that girl.

At some point, the subjects of your incessant sketching became almost exclusively runway models and makeup advertisements. You cemented that you wanted to work in fashion as early as your high school graduation, and by then you already possessed the conviction and charisma of the industry’s most experienced members. Your portfolio was stellar; your personality prophesied of wild success. So your career took off, propelled by the neverending positions and projects that various companies continually laid before your feet.

You stand and pad to your kitchen to refill your glass, only to bring the entire bottle of wine back to your room instead. With one hand, you flick the cap off and lift the whole thing to your lips; with the other, you seize your pen again, not wanting to lose momentum.

For the year or so after you joined the industry, you basked in your idyllic prosperity. Even the doodles you scrawled on random napkins during banal business lunches would appear on some of the world’s most renowned faces the next week. You had indubitably become the little girl from your story; made a career out of giving your imagination tangible form. And what a fruitful career it was going to be.

If only you knew how it would strengthen you in ways you never wanted.

The first time someone called you cold, it took you a while to realize that they were talking about you. The phrase was said so casually and lightheartedly that it sounded at first like a piece of unimportant small talk. But the whisper of cold bitch was then followed by a bout of stifled laughter and what was undoubtedly your name. Your heart stopped along with your footsteps, and you looked towards the source: two interns whose names you had yet to learn, while yours was already in their mouths.

You felt nothing until you were three stops away from your apartment, and then the bottom of the subway gave out beneath you and suddenly you were feeling everything. Only confusion, hurt, and rage at first, but then the other emotions that you’d been smothering tirelessly for who-knows-how-long tore free of their cerebral shackles too, and together they formed an amalgamation of anxiety that closed up your throat within seconds. 

As your pen studs details into a shapely jawline, you remember how you’d shoved your way off the subway and made a mad dash into the night air. You remember how you collapsed against a utility pole in an unfamiliar neighborhood, how your knuckles paled around the ashen wood, how your tears tumbled over your lips and salted your tongue. You remember wanting to go home so badly that you thought your ribcage would cave in on itself with the weight of it. You remember begging for air, for you.

By the time the oxygen had returned to your lungs, the streets were empty save for you, crouched on the curb, your face buried in your arms, spent, shattered, and alone. You were only nineteen at the time.

You are now twenty-two, and the word “cold” has become a regular guest in the lodgings of your heart. You never invite it over, but you’re no longer surprised to find it at your door. It’s a thief, swiping pieces of you when it thinks you’re not looking—a fragment above the fireplace, a scrap from the cracks between the couch—and you know whenever you’re being robbed, know that you lose parts of yourself upon its every visit. But better that than acknowledging what you lose.

You allow it to walk away with full pockets every time.

Hyunjin does not.

“Three words to describe yourself. Go,” he said a few days ago, the two of you heading back to the tour bus after a filming session. 

You were so used to these irrational inquiries of his that you didn’t bother trying to dodge this one. “You first.”

“Smart, sexy, suave,” he said immediately, but burst into a sheepish laugh at the sight of your weary glare. “Fine, fine, let me think. Ambitious, for one. Introspective, definitely—maybe overly so. And artistic. I’d like to think so, at least. Satisfied?”

The most creative person you knew doubting his own ingenuity was absurd to you, but you nodded begrudgingly. It was a good answer, for the most part.

“Now you.”

Honestly, the thief had surfaced the moment you heard the question, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to inform Hyunjin of its existence. Not because you didn’t trust him—you did, more than you had anyone in years—but because you didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if he agreed. You weren’t sure your heart would be able to take it.

When you met the boy’s gaze, though, the carob brown of his eyes was so curious and so comforting that you suspected that was never a possibility.

“Cold,” you mumbled. “I’ve been called cold before.”

There was a pregnant pause. You found yourself holding your breath. And then—

“That’s a joke, right?”

Hyunjin began to count off his fingers.

“Mean. So mean. Impossibly, infuriatingly confident. Talented, stubborn, strong. Funny, sometimes, I guess, though I’d rather you hit me with a metal pipe than admit that ever again.”

At this, you caved; a laugh erupted from your lips, leaving a genuine smile in its wake.

“Determined. Eloquent. Bossy. Some kind of evil, twisted genius. Contemplative, caring, compassionate. Fearless,” he went on. “You get my point. You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but cold isn’t one—”

He was about to say something mind-numbingly stupid. You could sense it in the air.

“—and not just because you’re hot.”

You smacked his bicep, the smile on your face now an uninhibited, helpless grin. And as he vanished into a fit of high-pitched laughter, you thought you sensed him crack open your door and slip your missing artifacts back to their rightful places.

Hyunjin began to climb into the bus, and you caught the cuff of his sleeve, your feet still planted on the pavement.

“Thank you,” you said.

The tremors of his fond chuckle traveled to your very core.

“Idiot,” he sighed softly.

Idiot, you write, and the drawings are complete. 

When you stand up, the bottle is mostly gone—and so are you. You splash some water on your face in lieu of your skincare routine and prod the inside of your mouth a few times using a dry toothbrush, and then you dive beneath your duvet and are dead asleep in minutes. Your slumber is interrupted only by dreams of a world where your theories about Hyunjin aren’t just theories.

If you’d had even one mouthful less of rosé, you might’ve remembered that you picked up your phone and opened your most recent conversation somewhere between steps two and three.

[3:10 A.M.] To: Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids, JYP) Audio Message.wav

Hi. I’m drunk and I’m going to regret this tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow’s business. There’s something I need to tell you tonight.

After I moved to Seoul, I used to get these bouts of homesickness. Not in a standard ‘I wanna go home’ kind of way, but in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below me. I was always ready for it to swallow me alive. I would’ve been happy for it to.

But I haven’t felt that way since I met you. I realized this not too long ago, and it threw me for a fucking loop. I’ve never felt seen the way you see me. I’ve never been known the way you know me. Every time I look at you or hear your voice, it feels so much like returning home that I don’t have to dream of it anymore.

You called me fearless the other day, but you’re wrong. I’m terrified. I’m terrified that history is going to repeat itself, that another home will slip through the cracks between my fingers and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. And that’s why I’m so hesitant towards you, towards whatever this is, because I don’t want to go through that ever again.

So the thing I need to tell you is that I care about you. I care so much that I’m scared speaking it into existence will make it real and vulnerable to all the worst parts of the world. But it’s not speaking it into existence if I’m drunk, right? Maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ll never even hear this. So it doesn’t count. That’s how that works, surely.

Sorry if this was totally nonsensical. And sorry that I’m so bad at feelings. You must think I’m impossible, and I don’t blame you.

Good night, Hyunjin. Thank you, again.

One month ago. Los Angeles, United States. 12:37 A.M.

When Hyunjin steps out of the hotel’s tall glass double doors, he’s wearing a teatree facemask, and his bags are draped over the crooks of his elbows like he’s an upper-echelon socialite on his way back from a lavish shopping spree. And then he sees you standing next to the curb, and the situation dawns on him in bits and pieces.

You’re the only one here. The vans that were supposed to take you to the airport are nowhere to be seen. Boarding begins in four minutes.

A soft flinch crimps his features. Oops.

“Tomorrow night,” you’re saying into your receiver, but your attention is on him only, your penetrative gaze putting the dead in deadpan. “The absolute earliest. You’re sure?”

When you finish listening to the manager’s response, you heave a sigh that sags your shoulders and end the call with a jab that should’ve splintered your screen protector.

Then, you start walking towards him.

“Hi,” Hyunjin says, his eyes pleading for mercy. “You are so talented and beautiful. I don’t tell you that often enough, do I?”

He expects you to grab him by the cuff of his ear again, to throw him a retort that’s twice as mean as it is witty, something along those lines. But you merely push your suitcase in his direction, and it is then when he notices that your face is hard enough to chip enamel; that your eyes are eerily, entirely empty. The tendril of warmth that’s always dancing among the subtleties of your expressions, that he’s always pursuing to the very borders of his dreamscapes, is nowhere to be seen.

A shiver travels down Hyunjin’s spine as he curls his fingers around the plastic handle.

Something’s not right.

“We’re gonna have to stay here another day,” you say. “Can you check us in? I have some calls to make.”

“Us?” Hyunjin repeats.

“Junghan could only reserve one room,” you reply, your phone already glued back to your ear. “The hotel is fully booked for the next few months.”

With that, you’re already preoccupied with the next thing, turning to the side to reschedule a meeting. But Hyunjin can only stare blankly at your profile, trying and failing to grasp that he’s going to spend a night with the subject of his every daydream. Though you might be leaning more towards the nightmare end of the spectrum at the moment, considering the way your head snaps back in his direction like a woman possessed.

Go, you mouth, and he obliges.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin is in the elevator by himself. He speculates it’s an ingenious, intentional choice that the lights are turned off, so that whoever’s inside can watch the psychedelic lights of Los Angeles sprawl further and wider the higher they go. But he can’t think of anything except for the subzero nothingness where your irises should’ve been.

Hyunjin’s initial guess was that he crossed a line with this missed plane, but the more he thinks about it the clearer it becomes that this isn’t an isolated issue. It’s the culmination of something bigger. Something continuous.

You have become as familiar to him as the lines of his eyes or the ridges of his knuckles. He’s learned where to look for your feelings when he can’t find them in your face; studied your words and the undertones of your voice like they’re verses of scripture. Yet, it was around two months ago when Hyunjin looked at your side profile and couldn’t recognize you. He’d blinked, startled, and then you’d asked why he was looking at you so strangely, and everything returned to normal. He wrote it off as a side effect of sleep deprivation and paid it no more mind that day.

Except it happened again a few days later; again, not too long after, and Hyunjin began to suspect that he was losing his mind. You didn’t seem all that different—a bit more taciturn than usual, maybe, but you’d been busier than usual, too, your workspace always full of empty coffee cups by the end of the day, the pages of your planner more colorful and crammed than ever. The minor variances never struck him as a reason for worry.

“Stupid,” Hyunjin whispers bitterly.

He replays your interaction one more time. You, shoving your suitcase against his palm, telling him to go check in. Him, fastening his hand around the handle, sensing the bottomless void within you, feeling like he’d been dismissed from before your throne.

As he steps off the elevator and walks towards your designated room, he doesn’t understand how or why—but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s failed you.

Nearly an hour passes. The room only has one bed, so Hyunjin turns off the lights, folds himself onto the armchair by the floor-to-ceiling window, drapes a complimentary robe over his shoulders, and tries to sleep. He doesn’t know why he even tries. He’s exhausted, but he knows damn well there’s no hope of him getting any rest until he has you in his proximity again.

He doesn’t look at the door when he finally hears it open, but the knot of tension in his chest comes undone as soon as your silhouette appears in the hallway. He takes out his first real breath since leaving you at the hotel’s entrance.

You hear the sound it makes. You fall still.

“Hyunjin?”

His heart physically aches at how tired you sound. “Yeah?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” you answer. “Move to the bed. You’re not sleeping on that thing.”

He remains where he is, his chin resting on the side of his fist, his eyes glued to the flickering panorama of neon lights below him. You crouch to unzip something, and there’s a heavy thud of metal meeting cloth, presumably your laptop being tossed onto the bed’s mattress.

“Hello? Did you—”

“Is everything okay?”

A short pause follows his interruption.

“I still have a few emails to write, but everything’s been rescheduled, so as long as you don’t miss tomorrow’s flight, too, we should be—”

The robe slides off his lap as he pushes himself to his feet. “That’s not what I mean.”

The only source of light in the room is the lone light above the entrance, but it’s enough for him to see your face and the surprise etched upon it. You open your mouth, utter one syllable, and stop yourself immediately after, stunned into silence by the sobriety in Hyunjin’s expression.

“Enlighten me, then,” you say finally.

“You really don’t know?”

“What is there to know? That you missed a flight and pissed me the fuck off? Trust me, I’m aware.”

“No, that’s not—”

“So what are you talking about, then? Why are you talking in riddles? Fuck, what is it that you want from me?”

There’s real frustration in your voice, and it’s the first time you’ve shown him any emotion in pure, unadulterated form. With this, Hyunjin understands that he was right; this conversation is heading towards a culmination of some kind, and so are you, with the devastating force of a natural phenomenon.

He wonders if you’re prepared to destroy yourself, too.

“I know how you are around me,” you whisper. “You’re always acting like you’re trying to unearth something, and I figure this ‘something’ must be wonderful, because you look at me like I’m made of stars; you speak to me like you’re serenading a lover. But I am constantly, ceaselessly haunted by the possibility that this ‘something’ doesn’t exist, that you’re looking for the wrong thing in the wrong person. 

“I know it’s selfish to ask for anything more than what you’ve already given me—you’re so kind, Hyunjin, and you’ve been nothing but since the day we met. But grant me one more wish, even if it is the last time you ever do.

“Tell me what you see in me,” you plead. “Otherwise, I will spend the rest of my life mourning the months of yours that you wasted on me.”

With that, it occurs to Hyunjin, falls upon and cracks open his mind like a piece of firewood, that you have never been aware of—never asked for—the throne you sit upon.

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides of your dark hotel room. You haven’t felt anything like this in a long time, your chest heaving with your heavy breaths, your vision muddied by both the lack of light and the desperation searing through your windpipe. 

When Hyunjin finally begins to speak, his words wrest the oxygen from your lungs.

“After you moved to Seoul, you used to get these bouts of homesickness.”

Your mind careens; your heart reels. 

“They came in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below you.” He takes a tentative step towards you. “You thought it was going to swallow you alive. You would’ve been happy for it to.”

You never got to listen to your voice note. You were blacked out when you recorded it and horrified when you discovered it in your chat logs the next morning; the wretched thing was unsent so quickly that you couldn’t check for a read receipt.

But there’s not a doubt in your mind that these are your words falling from Hyunjin’s lips.

“You haven’t felt that way since you met me, though.” He is only a few feet away from you now, and getting closer still. “You’ve never felt seen the way I see you. You’ve never been known the way I know you.”

God, you said that? Did you propose to him too?

“You’re terrified that another home will slip through the cracks between your fingers and there will be nothing you can do to stop it.” Hyunjin flattens his left hand upon the drywall next to your ear; pushes you back ever-so-gently against the hard surface. “I must think you’re impossible.”

And he brings his face so, so close to yours; looks at you with so much adoration, so much tenderness, that you feel the final bulwark around your heart fracture—

“I don’t,” Hyunjin breathes, cradling your cheek, “because you’re not. And I want to prove it to you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. That’s what I see in you.”

—and crumble.

You form fists in the lining of his hoodie. Hyunjin’s hand tightens where it lays over the curve of your jaw.

When you crash your lips upon his, he tastes the metallic sheen of electricity and the salt of tearwater both; he witnesses crying lightning, for the first time in human history.

Present day. Cannes, France. 9:15 P.M.

Hyunjin never thinks when he fucks you. 

One part of it is that he physically can’t; his cognitive facilities shut down when he has you quivering beneath him, like his desire to pleasure you is too overwhelming for his mind to bear. The other part is that he doesn’t want to. He’s afraid that the voices of cynicism and trepidation that plague his mind every waking moment will taint the actualization of his wildest dreams.

Lucky for him, you manage to erase his mind on a daily basis with only one accidental touch or an apparition of a smile, so he doesn’t stand a chance whenever you let him between your legs.

“Trust me?” He whispers, imprinting the words upon the inside of your thigh.

“More than anyone,” you breathe, and just this has him tenting against his satin slacks.

Hyunjin used to see you scolding managers or moving racks twice your weight and think that was you in your element—tonight, he learned otherwise. You were so confident that even just the way you puffed your chest out prompted heads to turn and low voices to ask for your name; so charming that even by the end of your self-introduction you had every guest you spoke to eating out the palm of your hand. 

Eating out your pussy, though, is Hyunjin’s privilege alone.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your dress and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of red fabric around your midriff; slides your panties off your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. All obstacles out of the way, Hyunjin winds his arms around your thighs and pins your hips to the mattress, slotting himself between your knees as they fall apart. Your ankles fold over the top of his head, and you’re about to ask if he’s okay like this, but then you feel the hot muscle of his tongue trace over your dripping folds—and every word of every language you’ve ever known is dispelled from your brain and your mouth in the form of a stuttered, euphoric moan.

He teases you first, drags his mouth over you so that he’s lapped up all of your slick, and just when you feel your patience thinning he pulls you apart with reverent hands and begins to suckle on your clit, as attentive to your every solicitation as always. You arch your back so high off the bed that your ankles knock Hyunjin’s head down a few inches, but the new angle is even better; grants him access to more of you.

He reinforces his grip around you, presses his torso right up against the side of the mattress, and gorges: sluices your labia until you’re spilling from his chin onto the sheets; flicks against your bundle of nerves until it’s pulsating and swollen on his mouth; fucks his tongue against your favorite spot until you’re curling your toes, seeing the whole solar system. 

“Coming,” you blabber after some time. Tell me something I don’t know, he thinks to himself. “Coming, Hyune. I’m—fuck—”

Hyunjin is aware of the way you clench so hard around nothing that your pelvis hurts. He is aware of the way you’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re genuinely struggling to breathe. He doesn’t care. He wants to get the cadences of your climax tattooed into the gray matter of his brain, and there can’t be rests in the sheet music, can there?

He presses a hand flat on your stomach in preparation for your body’s protest, then returns his face to its place between your thighs; starts to leave kitten licks around the edges of your puffy folds before you can finish riding out your high. You press your tongue against the back of your front teeth, emitting a pained hiss as you draw a sharp breath, tears stinging at your eyes.

“Son of a bitch—”

“Trust me?” He asks again, his voice vibrating against your sore cunt, and your complaints quiet into whimpers as you bring a hand over your quivering mouth, and nod. 

At least Hyunjin bridles his thirst the second time he eats your pussy open, his lips smacking openly and slowly over your every inch except the one that would be truly unbearable for you right now. He’s so rough and so fucking careful at once like he can’t decide between obliterating and worshipping your cunt.

He’ll end up doing both.

Within a few minutes, your legs have gone slack on either side of Hyunjin once again, and another coil has begun to tighten behind your bellybutton, equal parts pain and pleasure—but he knows your pussy just as well as he does your person by now, and it’s not long before the former is compounding with the latter.

Round two has a faster ascent and a steeper drop. He finds your spot again with the precision and ease of a trained marksman and fixates upon it like a man starved. It has your cries devolving to incoherent profanities and, to his unfettered delight, your foot actually shaking, your heel tapping against the back of his neck every time it comes down.

As if referencing a metronome, Hyunjin matches the rhythm of his tongue to your accelerando. Only when your leg is nearly convulsing does he wrap his lips back around your clit; slide two fingers into the place he leaves empty and pumps them into you until you are liquifying, igniting around him, your mewls lamenting the second orgasm he plucks from your core.

After your body has stilled, Hyunjin lifts his head, his face drenched in perspiration and saliva and you. His eyes travel over the slopes of your arms and the hills of your breasts, over the tears streaming from your eyes and staining the pillow you lie on. It is this last bit that has him shrugging off his shirt and undoing his dress pants with one hand, palming his throbbing cock with the other.

He clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, your mouth falling apart when he rolls your nipples between his fingers, strands of spit suspending between your tongues before dripping down onto your collarbone. You can sense what he wants in his craving lips, his pleading tongue—and you know he won’t ask for it. He’s tested you enough tonight; he’d rather your comfort than his pleasure.

But you guide his leaking head to your entrance, returning his stupefied look with a watery smile.

“Love me?” You ask this time, for the first time.

There is not even a nanosecond of hesitation when he answers, “with everything in me.”

He comes inside you the moment he bottoms out, your name leaving his lips in breathless, desperate repetition like a broken prayer as he topples off the same cliff he’d dropped you from moments ago. You curl a hand in his hair as he stutters against you, bring your lips flush against his ear, and whisper that you love him too—and the sight of you beneath him blurs he also starts to tear up.

This is the reality Hyunjin lives in, presumably because he was a saint in his past life, and it would be his utmost pleasure to see it through.

Two years later. Milan, Italy. 11:28 A.M.

For the last half hour, a ray of sunlight has repeatedly struck the diamond that sits between the second and third knuckle of your ring finger, and the Vogue journalist on the other side of your desk thinks he is slowly losing his vision. But when he asks his final question, your hand comes to a much-appreciated stop, the fountain pen you’ve been twirling around clattering to your tabletop.

“Where do you find your inspiration?” 

As the journalist blinks the phosphenes from his eyes, he finally manages to get a good look at the face of Versace’s newest designer, and he detects something ineffable and warm in your expression.

“My inspiration, hm?” You fall silent for a short time, thinking. “If you asked me this at the start of my career, I’d have said ‘people.’ Their postures, their expressions, their wardrobes. I knew I was a goner when I watched a fashion show for the first time and noticed how the models’ attire helped them harness their innate power and grace—I wanted to orchestrate that kind of symbiosis, too. In that aspect, nothing has changed, actually. I still find wonder in human beings, and not just the ones on the runway. I think it would be difficult not to, don’t you?

“Some time ago, a good friend of mine was having trouble with an outfit for her client. She asked me a similar question, and only then did I realize that it was no longer just people that inspired me most, but a singular person. I had always been skeptical of the idea of a ‘muse’ until I met him. But I could only spend so long denying how he ventured closer to my soul than anything ever had, how he knew me and saw me like nobody ever could. He understood my art. He was my art, so—”

Your eyes dart over your ring, and the journalist would’ve flinched out of habit if he wasn’t so mesmerized by your eloquence.

“—where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?”

A few seconds elapse, and then you clear your throat and straighten your back, returning to your office from your trip down memory lane. 

“That’s the long answer, anyways. The short answer would be my fiancé.”

The journalist laughs, and he doubts you’ll give him this next piece of information—but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try.

“And who would that be?”

He’s right. You don’t answer the question. But you do flash him an enigmatic smile, and for some reason it reminds him of lightning.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[jgracie]

LOVE GROWS (WHERE MY ROSEMARY GOES) — PERCY + CHILD OF DEMETER

masterlist | rules

❝ Hiya,can i request if you have time,Percy dating a Demeter kid?Thank you💕 ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a child of demeter

pairing percy jackson x demeter!reader

warnings me projecting as a child of demeter LOL, one swear word

on the radio . . . love grows (where my rosemary goes) (edison lighthouse)

an never stop requesting demeter!reader guys (i live vicariously through her) also this features another travis cameo LOL him and percy are bffs in my head ALSO the watering can thing is inspired by stardew valley i cannot wait for the day i get to upgrade to sprinklers

Percy’s never been a morning person. However, he has been forced awake at ungodly times due to nightmares

This was one of those times. He could barely remember what the dream was about, all he knew was that it was bad enough for him to wake with a start, his body drenched in sweat as he tried to recollect himself

Looking over at the clock on his bedside table, Percy could barely make out the time: 5:35AM. Well, there was no point going back to sleep now. Even if he did, he’d probably just be visited by nightmares again

So, Percy slipped the nearest t-shirt on and left his cabin, unsure of where he was heading - maybe the beach to cool off? Who knows, he was in disarray. The worst dreams were always the ones you couldn’t remember, the fear of them possibly being important haunting your day

Suddenly, Percy smelt a comforting scent waft through the air. He’d never smelt anything like that before. It couldn’t be ambrosia or nectar - while they both had good scents, they weren’t half as strong as this one. What could it be?

He decided to follow his instinct and find where the smell was coming from. Which led him to cabin 4

Despite it being right across from his own, Percy never paid cabin 4 much attention. Not until now

He continued following the scent and ended up at the back of the cabin, where there was a huge garden filled with what Percy believed to be the most appetising fruits and vegetables he’s ever seen. To the side, there was a greenhouse, where he could see the silhouette of a person

Curious, Percy made his way over to the greenhouse. He’d never spoken to a Demeter kid before, but he’d heard of your nurturing nature and kind hearts in passing

“It’s okay, Cassie, you can go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise,” Percy heard a voice say, stopping in his tracks. Deciding to take a peek, he found himself facing an angel

You were rocking a young girl who seemed to be six years old at most back to sleep in your arms. Wherever you went, the flowers in the greenhouse bloomed brighter, gravitating towards you and wrapping their stems around your arms, almost as if they were vying for your attention

The girl’s face was tear-streaked, but she nodded, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You smiled and ran your fingers through her hair, praying to your mother that she wouldn’t have another nightmare

You hated when the younger kids got nightmares - they could barely understand the fact that one of their parents is a God, let alone comprehend the strange demigod nightmares

Then, you noticed him. When you locked eyes, Percy felt as if the last puzzle piece of his life was finally put in place. Was it too early to say you were made for him?

“Hello! Welcome to Flowers and Vines (shoutout to Stella for naming it!), how may I help you today?” You said, your cheery tone snapping Percy out of the trance you put him in. Walking inside (he’d been simply listening next to the door), Percy sheepishly rubbed his neck, hoping you didn’t think he was some weird stalker

Percy looked around, now fully being able to see everything your greenhouse had to offer. His mom would love this place

“Oh, I’m good, thanks… I didn’t know you guys had a flower shop here! That’s really cool…” Percy said, trailing off at the end once he realised he didn’t know your name. He was a little embarrassed, but luckily, you didn’t seem to mind

Giggling, you continued for him, “Y/N, my name’s Y/N. And Flowers and Vines is more than just a flower shop, we sell produce too! Mr D’s kids help us with the grapes.” As you told him all of this, you were going around with a pretty pink watering can and watering every single plant in the whole greenhouse. Surely, there must be a more efficient way to water them all?

That morning, Percy decided he would buy a flower from you. When you’d asked which one he wanted, he simply told you to surprise him

“These are some of my favourites,” you said while wrapping your flowers of choice - to Percy, they looked like every other pink, round flower out there, but he’d learn the difference for you. These were now special

Handing him the little bouquet, you continued, “Rhododendron - ‘I shall never look upon your like again’, that’s what they mean. I don’t see them around much anymore, which is why I planted them here!”

It was almost like you knew Percy would never look upon your like again. When he’d asked you how much they were for, you insisted on giving them to him on the house. After much arguing, Percy accepted, keeping them right next to his bed. Something about them made the nightmares a little better

After that day, Percy couldn’t stop thinking about you. Everything he saw around him reminded him of you - from the flowers in the forest to the smell of mangoes in the air as their season arrived

He’d see you occasionally, too, and would shyly wave whilst hoping you didn’t notice the way his face turned a bright red when you waved back

You thought Percy was really cute, too, and were a little disappointed when he didn’t show up a second time after your original rendezvous. You began taking on so many shifts you might as well have been working at Flowers and Vines full time. Your siblings (as well as Dionysus’ kids) teased you relentlessly for this, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to see him again

And then you did

Percy’s idea was one that was suggested by none other than Travis Stoll. He was simply catching up with the son of Hermes when he’d brought up the fact that everyone working at Flowers and Vines watered the plants using watering cans (something which had been really bothering Katie)

When Percy had asked why they did that, Travis explained that they used to have sprinklers but after the Ares cabin tinkered with them once (they were bitter over a game of Capture the Flag), causing the water to go all over the place and killing a lot of the flowers, the sprinklers were unusable and currently being fixed by the Hephaestus cabin

That’s when Percy came up with it. Since he was a son of Poseidon, he could spread water from a source as far as he wanted to. Therefore, he could help with your issue and have an excuse to talk to you

Immediately, Percy ran to the flower shop/fruit market he’d grown to love so dearly

“Hi! Is Y/N here?” He asked one of your siblings, breathless. They nodded and pointed behind them, smirking as they snuck knowing glances to your other siblings

There you were, in all your glory. You seemed to sparkle under the Sun, watering the flowers with your little pink pot. When the water ran out, you sighed. You really needed to invest in a bigger one

Just as you were about to go fill it, Percy proudly announced, “you won’t have to do that anymore!”

You couldn’t believe your ears. As you turned around, you fought the urge to hug the boy. Despite only speaking with him once, you really did miss Percy

Intrigued, you followed Percy to the fountain in the middle of the greenhouse. Before, it used to just be for decoration (since you had sprinklers), but now it came very handy for refilling your watering cans

Extending his arm towards the fountain, Percy willed droplets of water to hover in the air, then, with one motion, threw them all over the greenhouse, watering your plants perfectly

“Oh my Gods, Percy, this is amazing! Thank you so much!” You exclaimed, running over to him and giving him a peck on the cheek. It was a spontaneous decision mainly done because you were getting quite tired of manually watering all your plants

After that, Percy began working at Flowers and Vines as your temporary plant-waterer. You, your siblings and Dionysus’ kids would all cheer when he’d appear, and he’d play into it, making a big show out of getting the water out of the fountain and sprinkling it over the plants, winking at you as he did so

The plants seemed to flourish even more than usual, too. You told yourself it was probably because water from a son of Poseidon was more powerful than normal water (or something along those lines), but you knew the truth

As a child of Demeter, much like your mother, your emotions influenced nature around you. When you were sad, plants would wilt and wither, mimicking the winter Demeter creates whenever Persephone is in the Underworld

The opposite was true. Whenever you were happy, plants would blossom and bloom all around - and you were really happy when Percy was around. Which is why you needed to tell him before the Hephaestus cabin fixed your sprinklers

However, fear got the best of you every time you tried to get the words out of your mouth. Despite practising several times with your siblings (and even once with the Aphrodite cabin), whenever you tried telling Percy, you’d get shy and vines would grow out of your head, tangling with your hair and acting as a shield

Unfortunately for you, Percy couldn’t tell from that that you liked him, so you simply had to get over your fears and say it

Your confession happened on Percy’s last day as your plant waterer. That morning, Katie had pulled you to the side, telling you to hurry up your confession to Percy as she and Travis couldn’t delay the Hephaestus cabin any more (they were getting quite annoyed, having worked on the sprinklers for so long. What did those Ares kids do to them?)

So, you spent the whole day bracing yourself for Percy’s arrival. All you had to do was say it, get his response and move on with your life. It wasn’t that big of a deal!

After Percy watered the plants, everyone watched in silence, waiting for you to say something

“Hey… Percy, can we talk?” You asked, ignoring the hushed cheers of your siblings as you approached the boy. He nodded, smiling at you and letting you lead him to the back, where you kept all the extra supplies

Sitting on a stool, Percy looked up at you, just noticing your nervousness, “is everything okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You practically had this memorised. You just had to get the words out. You couldn’t get the words out

The vines grew from your head again and you wanted nothing more than to cocoon yourself in them. You’d faced terrifying monsters with a calm smile and eliminated them like you were pulling weeds out of your gardens, but you couldn’t tell a boy you liked him?

At this point, the vines were wrapping around the stool Percy was sat on, and he stood up, confused

Slowly, he made his way over to you and brushed the vines away from your face. As he looked into your wide eyes, he finally understood. Cupping your face with his hands, Percy placed a tender kiss on your lips

“I like you too, Y/N. Like, a lot”

Ok dating hcs 🥳

First of all I just wanna say PICNIC DATES!!! Sometimes you have them on the beach and it’s like you combined both your worlds <3

As a child of Demeter I can confidently say we know how to cook. Percy’s so in love with your cooking. He never thought any cooking could rival his mother’s until you came along

Somehow, you knew how to make meals that make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. If you asked him to taste ambrosia and one of your meals blindfolded and then choose one, he’d choose yours in a heartbeat

He’s also so obsessed with the fresh produce you bring from Flowers and Vines. I said this in my Percy x Persephone!Reader headcanons but I don’t think Percy’s much of a fruits/vegetables guy so the fact that you have him hooked on them says a lot

Swears he’s addicted. You think he’s just saying that to flatter you but he means it. If someone asked him if he had an addiction he’d look them dead in the eye and go, “yes, my partner’s bell peppers.”

He’s actually right though! Demeter + Dionysus kid powers make the produce taste a little fresher and last for way longer

Percy also decides to learn the language of flowers. He borrows a book about it from the Athena cabin and makes little notes and everything

Once, you came to his cabin and found the book full of scrawled annotations and sticky notes in it and you had to fight the urge to bawl your eyes out because he’s just so adorable

Will literally buy you flowers from your own flower shop though LMAO he doesn’t even try to do the transaction with anyone else. He’ll buy them and you’ll give them to him and he’ll be like “oh thanks I’m gonna go give this to the light of my life now” and he just hands them back to you

Percy’s also def the type of guy to keep one with him so he can get you new ones as soon as they start to wilt. Except his timing is always off because flowers tend to last a little longer when they’re around you

Lowkey still works at Flowers and Vines except he just follows you around and has no salary (he says his salary are kisses from you but knows he’d get them regardless LOL)

Brings Sally and Paul to Flowers and Vines and they’re immediately hooked because flowers in the mortal world aren’t half as beautiful as these hello??

Also, as a child of Demeter, you are naturally very motherly and caring. He loves seeing you interact with Estelle so much!!!

His half-sister warmed up to you extremely quickly and now refuses to be babysat by anyone who isn’t you. Like it can’t even be Percy alone you have to be there!!

Percy ALSO loves it when you dote on him. This leads to him being a little dramatic at times

Looking up, you saw a pouty Percy make his way over to you, his brows furrowed as he looked down at his finger

“Y/N! You won’t believe what happened!” He said. The first couple times he pulled this stunt, he’d scared you shitless, but you now knew all about your boyfriend’s antics and simply gave him a knowing smile

Feigning worry, you asked, “oh no, what is it?” Percy revealed his finger to you, which had a barely noticeable cut at the tip of it

“I was talking to Clarisse when all of a sudden she swung at me!” He told you, looking over to the side. In reality, he’d asked Clarisse to cut him, knowing only a child of Ares could have such precision with a weapon

Sporting a pout of your own, you took Percy’s finger and peppered it with kisses, “I’ll speak to Clarisse, don’t worry.” You said

“Uhh.. Y/N.. she also punched me in the lips… My lips really hurt.”

Let’s just say you didn’t get much work done that day (SAFE FOR WORK!)

[beneathashadytree]

HUNGOVER - VINSMOKE SANJI X READER

Warnings : Sanji’s self-image issues, hangover, passing out, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluff <33

Additional notes : This is part 2 to a fic I posted 2 years ago (crazy, I know) called Intoxicated, so I recommend reading that first! Inspiration suddenly hit me ig���🏽 To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just old requests I had in my inbox🫶🏽

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Masterlist

It was at times like these that Sanji cursed his entire being—most especially his body, for having gotten so used to waking up at a set time every day. Because here he was, with a pounding headache that threatened to split his head in half and squash his brain into a mush, and yet he was still unable to sleep in for more than 4 hours.

Delaying the inevitable, he tried his best to keep his eyes shut, even if just for a little while. Dread filled him at the thought that opening them would send lancinating pain shooting through his eyes and the back of his head, and that was an issue he did not want to deal with now.

Especially not after colossally mortifying himself like that last night. Actually, he’d much rather forget it all together. Maybe completely wipe the memory from his head.

Much of the second half of the night was a booze-induced haze, flashing images swirling behind his eyes like they’re floating in water, and he couldn’t bring himself to try and remember the rest of it. After all, why would he want to think about how he embarrassed himself in front of the one person he yearned for more than life itself?

Baring his heart like only an idiot would, skinning himself alive and prostrating himself in front of them without a single ounce of the dignity he’d tried so hard to preserve for ages… he truly was a lost cause.

“Putain,” Sanji swore under his breath, even his raspy voice sounding grating to his ears, and he buried his head further into—

—his jacket?

All inhibitions instantly cast aside, his head shot up from where it was, and he was hit with the surging pain of an unbearable crick in his neck. Eyes flying open and completely ignoring the sting of the light, it was only then that he realized that he hadn’t, in fact, stumbled his drunken way back to bed after his whole blurted confession and tumbled face first into dreamland.

No. In reality, he’d actually just slept an uncomfortable few hours on the kitchen table, his head just barely hanging on after being supported only by his crumpled jacket.

Shit. The kitchen.

It was at that moment he came to the sudden realization that the thrumming headache wasn’t only caused by him waking up, but also from the loud banging of another person in his kitchen pulling out his precious pots and pans.

It must be well past morning. Everyone was probably ridiculously hungry by now.

It took all he had for him to stop himself from snapping at whoever it was that decided to step up (and also make a wreck out of his sacred space and possessions) for only that reason. In his desire to drown himself in his sorrowful miseries, he’d completely neglected his duty as a chef. If not to sustain his crewmates and friends, what use was he outside of battle?

Nothing, he thought to himself, blearily blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he began to turn around with a sigh, not looking forward to the confrontation that was to come, nothing at all—

“There you are, darling,” came a soft voice from behind him, barely above a whisper. A blooming warmth rushed to his cheeks, and he almost toppled out of the chair as he recognized just who it was that was saying those saccharine words.

It couldn’t be. There was no way he he’d be so blessed by the angels first thing in the morning.

And yet. And yet.

Here they were, in all their fresh-faced, tender-hearted glory, leaning down to gently stroke his cheek with a deft thumb. If Sanji let slip a broken whimper of half-relief, half-agony, they made no comment on it. “You’re hungover, then?”

With his mouth feeling like it was filled with cotton wool, no words could come out, and he instead just nodded his head weakly. Thankfully, that too they let slide. “I got Chopper to help out with that.” They pushed a cup with an odd liquid and two pills towards him. “Should help.”

For a couple of seconds as Sanji downed them and sent a silent prayer to whoever decided to let Chopper have the lack of common sense to join their crew, they turned around, probably on their way back to the stove that now sizzled and emitted the lovely smell of caramelized onions and garlic—and if his nose wasn’t betraying him, simmering in some balsamic vinegar and soy sauce—that he had memorized long ago. But after a moments’ hesitation, they walked up to him once again, sliding his jacket out from underneath him and carefully folding it.

“You should go to your quarters and get a proper sleep in. I’ve got it from here.” With that sweet smile of theirs that threatened to send his heart into overdrive, they began to usher him out. “When you’re up again, I’ll reheat your food for you. You don’t look so ready to eat now.”

If he was looking as green as he felt, he couldn’t blame them one bit for calling it out as it is. Clearing his throat once then twice, he tried to speak again, voice awfully raspy (even more than after he’d had a smoke). “You… you cooked?”

They hummed in affirmation, now with their back turned to him as they began to crack eggs into a pan. “Not done yet, but yeah. You’ve only slept a couple of hours, so I figured it would be better if I managed to get us through breakfast in your place. Won’t be as good as yours, but I hope you can trust me to try.”

As they waved off to their left, he saw how they’d propped up his notebook against the pepper shaker. And maybe this was just him feeling extra sensitive and still a little in a haze, but something stirred in his chest at the thought of them carefully following every step in his recipes and diligently trying to emulate his cooking.

“Mon ange, you shouldn’t have…” His voice was still a little rough yet trembling with the emotions he couldn’t even try to hide; emotions that were bigger than his own feeble heart could take. His fists curled at his sides, eyebrows furrowed as he watched them elegantly handle the kitchenware like they were their own. This was too much for him. “I can handle my own hangover. It’s… it’s not your responsibility to do my own job.”

With a sigh, they turned down the stove and looked back at him with an exasperated yet incredibly fond look in their eyes. “You silly man, no one’s forcing me to do this.” At the affectionate lilt of their voice, Sanji’s mouth went dry, and he tried to swallow (with much difficulty) past the lump in his throat.

What could he have possibly done to deserve this? He can’t have earned this much goodness. There simply was no way.

“You don’t have to earn my love, Sanji.” Fuck. Had he really said that out loud? Their soft-spoken words and the sympathetic look in their eyes told him that yes, he had. He hadn’t intended to make himself sound so pathetic, and yet here he was, accepting the way they brushed his curly eyebrow with slivers of shame curling inside his chest. “I’ve already told you, my love is yours to keep,” they softly said.

“Your… pardon, quoi?” His heart came to a stuttering stop, all his movements halted and his eyes blown wide open almost comically as the words they said finally hit him.

One look at how utterly confused and shocked he looked, and realization seemed to dawn on their face. “I guess it would be too ambitious of me to expect you to remember much of last night,” they huffed out a laugh, before taking to the chopping board and beginning to chop up some fresh vegetables as they slowly spoke, as though hoping to break it gently. “You weren’t the only one who had an indirect confession in store.”

Digging the palms of his hands into his closed eyes, Sanji threw back his head and groaned as the memories came back to him bit by bit, achingly slowly and then all at once. “Merde,” he hissed out, the throbbing in his head doubling with every image that replayed in his head. “I can’t believe…” It was almost like he’d set a personal challenge for how much a person could embarrass themself within less than 12 hours.

What other explanation was there for him just completely forgetting that the one person who’d burrowed into the depths of his heart had somehow expressed that they felt the same for him? How else could he explain not remembering that they’d said that they wanted to be with him, in some miraculous way that he still couldn’t quite believe was real?

The chop-chop-chop of the knife stilled, and they set it down with a chuckle that sent tingles down his spine and his heart into near cardiac arrest. Lovely, lovely, lovely. His hangover seemed to have a weak spot for their laughter too, because why else would his headache somehow chip away just at the sound?

They were quick to soothe him with their words, their hands reaching up to tug his arms back to his sides. “It’s fine, I promise. You’re just a bit disoriented now.” Looking into such a fond gaze didn’t help the heat rushing to his cheeks, and he found himself being reminded of just how desperately in love he was; so much that he could swear it burned him alive. “I mean it though,” they earnestly mumbled, tenderly cupping his face, “and I’ll wait till you’re well-rested. Then we’ll talk.”

“Alright,” he managed to whisper out between breaths, “But—“

“Go.” They gave him a gentle push, before turning around to stir something in a small pot and add some spices that made the smell even more tantalizing. “If you don’t want breakfast to be a disaster, that is. Wouldn’t want to send my boyfriend’s kitchen up in flames.”

That’s it. A sharp pang in the deepest crevices of his chest and he was gone, his head floating with dizziness and his vision swimming. Sanji was long dead and on his way to whichever heaven would accept him; a heaven where he was somehow inexplicably loved and wanted; a heaven where he’d hear those words from their lips and know that they were indeed—thanks to some ridiculously generous higher power that blessed him beyond his wildest dreams—referring to him.

The last thing he felt were his limbs failing to keep supporting him, and a lightheadedness that overtook him so suddenly, crumpling to the ground in a helpless heap.

I think I’m gonna die a lucky man, he dazedly thought to himself, before finally succumbing to a blissful unconsciousness against the cold kitchen floor.

“Sanji!”

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[ihrthoney]

christmas regrets

pairing: christmas showdown!chifuyu x f!reader

warnings: fluff, some angst, happy ending! (this is chifuyu centric)

word count: 1k

an: based on the episode where chifuyu is bummed because he can’t get a christmas date :p

It has been a few days since the fight with black dragons and Chifuyu’s leg was still kind of messed up. He can walk just fine if he ignores the pain.

Takemitchy was currently at his house, he said he wanted to make sure Chifuyu was okay. They filled each other in on what had happened. It turns out that after the fight, Takemitchy and Hina get back together. Although, Chifuyu didn’t even know they had broken up!

“Heh, yeah... I kind of broke up with her on Christmas Eve.” Takemichi embarrassingly admits.

The blonde gapes at him, “Why would you do something as stupid as that!”

“Her dad sat me down and asked me to! He asked if I would be able to keep her out of danger. It made me think about whether or not I could! I mean, I told you the future!”

“But that’s why you’re here! To change the future!” Chifuyu argues.

“I know! After the fight, I apologized to her and vowed to do my best to protect her no matter what!” Takeichi exclaimed.

The two continued to talk, going back and forth on their New Year plans when a sudden question appeared in Chifuyu’s mind,

“Speaking of plans, I have a question for you.”

Looking away from one of the blondes’ manga, “What is it?”

Shyly, Chifuyu asks, “Am I married in the future?” 

It takes a minute of digging through memories before he remembers Chifuyu mentioning something about a wife.

“Actually, yeah you are.” Another memory floods his mind, though it isn’t of Chifuyu but Kazutora.

“Do you know how awful it is having to tell yet another person that I couldn’t save their loved one!” Kazutora yells. Anger coursed through his veins, tears brimming the edge of his eyes. 

“Because of scum like you, yn is going to have to mourn for the rest of her life!”

Waving his hand in front of Takemichi’s face, “Hey, are you listening?” 

The latter blinks, “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you know her name.” Excitement is written all over his face. 

“Her name is YN.” At his response, Chifuyu’s smile dropped from his face. His reaction confused him, “What?”

“YN? As in, YN LN?” Chifuyu asked.

Shrugging, he replies, “That’s what Kazutora said. Why?”

Looking away, rubbing his neck in embarrassment, “I.. sort of rejected her.”

“WHAT! But all you do is complain about how much you wish you had a girlfriend?!” Chifuyu scoffs at that, the urge to slap Takemichi strong,

“It was before I met Baji, I was a different person. I told you already, I was full of anger and hate. She had confessed to me on the rooftop at school but I said no. I was uncaring and rude, she didn’t deserve someone like that.” After his confession, Chifuyu’s eyes widen.

“Oh shit!” Quickly, Chifuyu got out of bed, threw on a jacket and socks, and ran out the door.

Chasing after him, Takemichi asks what he’s doing, “I’ll be right back!” With that, the door closes in his face.

-

It was the last day of school before winter break, finals were over and Chifuyu was relieved. He stretched in his seat, focused on the plans to stop Hakkai when two girls walked in front of his desk.

Without a word, they drop a note on his desk and walk away giggling. He had half a mind to just ignore it but the shoujo reader in him was too curious.

So, he opened the letter to find the text,

“Meet me on the rooftop. 

- yn”

He blinks once, twice, then jumps out of his seat to run towards the roof. Excitement rushes through his body, Chifuyu was so thankful for another chance with you! 

Although, right before he can open the door, he feels his phone buzz. He wanted to ignore it, but when he sees that it's Takemitchy he pauses his movements.

The blonde can barely get a sentence out before he’s loudly interrupted, “I’m bus-”

“Come to my house! Quick!” 

Chifuyu sighs, the current situation with the Christmas plan is important and the future is quite literally at stake.

Regretfully, Chifuyu turns around and sprints towards Takemitchy’s house, leaving you alone and upset. 

If Chifuyu slams the door open and shut too harshly, Takemichi ignores it.

-

It’s snowing but Chifuyu feels hot after sprinting to your house. How he knew where you lived was a mystery, (Hina once briefly mentioned you live in the same building as her and he kindly asked if he could know the door number).

After catching his breath, the blonde tries to straighten his jacket and smooth down his hair. He stood outside your door, suddenly nervous when he noticed he didn’t bring anything as a peace offering. 

He starts to slightly rock back and forth on his feet when the door suddenly opens, 

“Matsuno?” You questioned, his heart skips at the sight of you in casual clothes.

Blinking, “Hey LN.”

“What are you doing here?” Shit. He was blanking, he didn’t prepare a speech or anything, all Chifuyu just wanted was to see you.

“I came here to see you.” The delinquent answers.

“Okay... Can I ask why?” Leaning on the doorframe, you wait for an explanation.

“I just wanted to see you,” You blushed at the honesty, “I also wanted to apologize for standing you up on the rooftop. I swear I meant to meet you but then I got caught up with other shit and then I just finally remembered today of your note. I’m also sorry for rejecting you a little while back, I was an ass and-”

Chifuyu was rambling and to help reassure him, you ruffle his hair a bit, “It’s okay, Matsuno.”

You were about to take your hand back when he gently held it in his own, “Please, let me make it up to you. Are you free tomorrow?” 

Your brain froze at the contact, you couldn’t believe your crush was asking you out!

“Are you sure you’re free tomorrow?” You tease. 

His face gets a little red, embarrassed at his previous actions, “From now on, I’ll always make time for you.” 

It was such a serious statement that your cheeks matched the red hue on his. 

“Then it’s a date, Matsuno.” Your hands were still intertwined,

“Please, call me Chifuyu.”

© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤

[deadpool15]

This is fucking bullshit. All of this is so stupid. I’m gonna kick his fucking ass. Me and Woo-Jin had been kinda on and off for about two years, at first it was fine because I wasn’t ready to settle down so it was all fun and games. But now I’ve been trying to slowly show him I’m ready for the real thing. Full on relationship, our parents had already met, with my parents practically becoming friends for life with his after agreeing to endorse his father’s campaign. His mother constantly telling me how much of a good daughter I am, and how she views me as her own.

Everything was slowly coming together until that fucking teacher arrived. Her nasty disgusting elderly ass decides to fuck my man. It seems like no one in this school realized Woo-Jin belonged to me. Not even him, well not yet. Storming through the school with my shirt slightly unbuttoned from the top leaving my sloppy tie on display just how I like it. It’s a style. Skirts were always a hit or miss for me, seemed no one in Korea understood the struggles of having a fat ass. My knee-high socks had fallen down slightly revealing a few of my tattoos. Shall I say baddest bitch at school for you. Yes, yes indeed.

I make my way up to our special classroom where I had told the man himself to meet me. Walking in the room I notice He-ra in there as well. Now before you say it that’s my bitch. Love her to death. But now isn’t the time for her and her constant back talk that I know she will give without explanation. “He-ra I love you so much babe, but I’m about to embarrass the fuck outta your bestie right now so can you please give us a minute. And I mean go to class not wait outside and listen this time.” She turns to me grabbing her things, “I wasn’t gonna listen to your guys speak, last time I tried to ease drop on you two felt like I was listening to unfiltered porn.”

Watching her walk out the room I see him sitting there smirking. “Stop that you make me sick. You piece of shit.” He motions for me to come closer as I was standing up still. Dropping my bag on the floor, I sit in the chair next to him only for him to grab my arm and push me into his lap. “What’s wrong, Cherie? And what are you gonna embarrass me with?” Pushing his hands that had landed on my hips off me, I sit firmly. Feeling the tension in the room. “When where u gonna tell me you are into old broke bitches now, huh? Miss me that much? You have your sluts acting out of order around me.” He tries to speak up but I place my finger on his plump lips. Causing him to slowly wrap his lips around my finger.

Wow can’t believe he is playing dirty right now. Two can play that game. “Guess your skills are getting old, it’s not working for you anymore is that it baby, is that why you are fucking old women now.” He removes his lips from my fingers and starts leaving kisses on my neck. Open-mouthed kisses are my fucking weakness and he knows this. “What did she say to you?” For a minute I couldn’t respond. I was lying through my teeth this entire time his skills always worked but I knew so did mine. “Kept trying to speak to me saying how worried she was about me since she has noticed me and you barely talk. She wanted to offer me a moment to let out my emotional side and show her how impacted I am now that you have moved on to someone new apparently. Messy ass teacher.”

Hearing this he stopped, “aww are you jealous, baby?” Seeing the mischievous smile on his amazing face almost made me crumble until I started to lean in for him to show off something I know would get me victory. “Is that a fucking hickey? Cherie you’re not serious right, no marks we talked about that. You have shitty guys leaving marks on your body to remember them.” He gripped my neck once he realized I was smiling, “Oo I didn’t even notice he was mainly focused on my bottom half when he did that, guess that’s my bad.” Chuckling and making my way to move off of his lap until he gripped my hips keeping me firmly placed glued to him. “No more of that, me and you that’s it. You only need me, how many times do I have to fuck you to prove that huh? Do you hate walking, is that it?”

“You’re sleeping around too, asshole. Get that dog under control and maybe I’ll let you have me. Any way you want it baby.” He smiles at me before unlocking his phone and pressing the camera icon. “What are you doing, sending her photos Woo-Jin? Wow you truly don’t give a fuck about me do you. Such an asshole.” He wipes my tears before leaning in to kiss me softly. “Cherie I like you so much, actually I fucking love you. Everything about you. I’m not sending her pictures, two options ok. I could text her it’s over or I could bend you over this chair and fuck you til you’re begging me to stop and send it to her. But, something tells me you like the second option more.”

Leaning closer to bite his ear, I whisper, “how many rounds can you give me before next class, huh pretty boy?” He grabs my breast, before kissing my ear. “My next course doesn’t start until 4, it’s currently 1. Which means we have to test this theory, are you up for it beautiful?” Unbuttoning his shirt, while spreading my hands across his chest I nod. “Always up for a challenge, pretty boy. But can you handle it. I don’t move at that same pace as you’re used to now. Since you have downgraded to fucking the retirement community. Can you even keep up?” He pulls me closer kissing my hands. “Can I, handle you? Baby you’re not leaving this room til you tap out.”

“Say less, pretty boy.”

[thelampisaflashlight]

Tying The Knot

[Get your head out of the gutter, this one is actually a wholesome one. RainDrop.] Below the cut.

The day he met Dew, the ghoul had been a stiff breeze away from crumbling away, shaking like a leaf as he tried to remain on his feet.

He'd learn much later the reason; That he'd fought tooth and nail to keep his packmate from tearing him apart in a rage, and that the shiver, that terrible, persistent tremble of his body, was it trying to stay upright.

At the time, Rain had not seen the hand splayed across his back -a sister of sin steadying him-, had not seen the way Terzo had eyed him from across the room, the last remnant of his old pack, barely holding onto life, but alive.

More than anything, the thing Rain noticed about Dew was that he was alive.

Were it not for the raspy hiss of his breathing, it would have been easy to liken him to a corpse.

It had bothered him for so long, the idea that Dew had been forced out of bed to witness not only his summoning, but that of the others, who poured out of the pit, half feral and lost, snapping at anyone who got close, but he hadn't been.

This had been an indulgence.

Dew wanted to see them.

And when coal black eyes gazed upon them all; Rain could feel him staring through them, through him.

It was then that Rain knew Dew was a creature born of spite, of persistence...

He remembers his first approach.

Unfazed by the chatter of teeth or swipe of claws.

With his fingers dipped in a mixture of ash and blood, he aided in anointing them all, and, now, when he sees Dew in his robes during one of Copia's sermons, it's all he can think of.

Dew stands now at the head of the chapel, back to him, long white hair tied back into a careful braid, the one Rain remembers practicing late at night.

It's done in a style from the pit, the kind you have to learn from an elder, impossible to find on youtube, even if similar patterns exist.

His hands twitch, wanting to drag through the strands and tug it loose, to undo all his hard work in a single pull, because if he knew how seeing him like this would make him feel, he'd never had tied those knots in the first place.

Each cross is a promise, woven to remind the wearer they are loved.

Rain watches the little ribbon he tied to secure the braid in place peek out; A bright, joyous red that contrasts heavily against Dew's pale hair.

Bolder than he thought it would be, and now Rain can feel eyes on him from among the pews.

His packmates know they didn't tie that ribbon, and all of them know such an intricate braid could not be done by Dew's hands alone, no matter how skilled he may be with his fingers.

Rain swallows, mouth suddenly dry.

It's...

It's a little too obvious what he's saying with all of this.

He's embarrassed, yes, but more than that...

He's nervous that Dew won't understand the meaning of this gesture.

Dew may be a ghoul like the rest of them, but, much like Swiss -who was born and raised on the surface- he has no memories of the pit.

The soul inhabiting his vessel is a mix.

An even blend of demon and man, but his consciousness solely belongs to the entity that lived topside.

He doesn't understand their culture.

Let alone the niche courting habits of an oceanic subspecies of water ghoul like Rain's.

At best, Dew thinks it's just a cool hairstyle.

At worst, he thinks it's lame or weird, or-

"Rain." a shockingly gentle voice calls to him, and when he looks up...

Dew looks down at him, standing above his seated form, his expression softer than he's seen it in a long time.

"You look terribly sad for a man who's just proposed."

Rain stutters, covering his face with his hands, looking as if he's about to burst.

"...You knew?"

"I guessed based on how much you were sweating while tying my hair back." he replies teasingly, "And Mist told me, ages ago. Not about you doing this, but about the practice in general."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh."

Rain tucks his head between his knees.

"Are you okay??"

"...Gimme a year to recover before you tell me yes or no, I don't think my heart can take it."

Dew grins.

"If I say 'yes' will you die on the spot, or-"

"Can y'all be mushy somewhere else, it's putting me off Papa's sermon about pre-martial sex." Cirrus groans, "Congrats, but also, fuck off!"

"Boo! Boo, Cirrus! Ruining our moment..." Dew sticks his tongue out

"...The sermon was about sex? Was he for or against it??" Aeon frets, "I wasn't listening!"

Everyone turns to the other ghoul, frowning.

"W-What??"

"Do we look like Christians to you-"

[gintrinsic-writing]

A Fuckless Year

It’s just a kiss, Legend tells himself. Just a kiss. One stupid, little kiss. This is, like, the least frightening thing I’ve ever faced. 

Oh hells, who is he kidding? This is terrifying. 

Ravio leans in ever so slightly. “Pardon? You, uh...” 

“What?” Legend blurts uncomfortably.

“You said good night, and then you…” Ravio clears his throat lightly. “You paused and looked at me. With your eyes.”

Legend almost laughs. Instead, he makes a sound like a dying frog, then waves both hands in denial. “How else am I supposed to look at you, idiot?” he asks, knowing exactly what Ravio meant. 

“Shrill,” Ravio accuses. Legend hopes the chain can’t hear them from the guest bedrooms. “You only ever sound shrill when you’re guilty!”

“I was—” Legend clears his throat and purposely makes his voice deeper. “I was not shrill. I’ve never been shrill in my life.”

Ravio pinches the bridge of his nose. The tips of his ears are endearingly pink. “Link…”

It’s just a kiss! You’re the goddess-damned Hero of Courage! Act like it! 

But instead Legend stands there like a loser, palms unreasonably sweaty, heart racing like it hasn’t since the last time fought that pig Ganon. He inhales slowly and counts to three, prepared to, well, do something, maybe, but Ravio suddenly holds out a hand. 

“Hey,” Ravio murmurs, expression soft and achingly affectionate, “let’s go to bed.”

Legend’s jaw drops before he can help it, and his entire face burns. “B-bed?” He yanks off his hat and runs a hand through his hair. He can’t seem to decide where to stare. “You—But I—We haven’t even—We should at least kiss first!”

Ravio’s face goes through at least four stages of grief, by Legend’s rapid approximation. Ravio slaps his palms together as if about to pray, then presses his fingertips to his lips. His eyes are comically wide. “Link, my hero, my best customer, my regular headache—what?”

“You were the one who said let’s go to bed!” 

Legend slaps a hand over his mouth as soon as he finishes shouting. They both wince in tandem, eyeing the stairs, but there’s no noise from the others. Legend just knows there’ll be embarrassing hell to pay come morning, though. He drops his voice to a whisper: “You said bed. Did you—Oh fuck, you didn’t mean…?”

“No!” Ravio whispers back. “I mean, not that I’m opposed, but.”

Legend’s throat is so fucking dry. “You’re not opposed,” he repeats dumbly. 

“Of course not! But just then, I meant sleep. Which people do in bed. You have a bed. Your own bed.” Ravio’s ears droop as his own dumb words catch up to him. “It was simply an invitation to retire for the night, separately!”

“But,” and Legend can’t seem to move past this point, Din burn him, “but you’re not opposed?”

“Ohhh my Goddess!” Ravio hisses. “What are you, some closeted creep? If you must know, then yes, I’m interested. I have been for a fucking year! Or should I say, a fuckless year, thanks to you and your stupid—your stupid—” He grips the air as if strangling some invisible menace. “You’re inept!”

Legend doesn’t think his self-esteem can get any lower at this point. “It’s not like you’ve been giving clues,” he begins weakly, but clearly that’s the wrong thing to say.

“Haven’t been giving clues? Haven’t been giving clues!” Ravio half-shouts. “The discounts? The lingering smiles? The robe slipping off my bare shoulder?”

Legend remembers that. He’s remembered it many, many times. “...Oh.”

Ravio throws his hands up in despair. “Oh, he says! Oh!”

The silence that follows is painfully, painfully awkward. At least on Legend’s part. “So…”

Ravio’s jaw works in silence for a moment. “Yes?”

Legend thinks dying must surely be less painful than this. “A kiss?”

Ravio holds up a finger threateningly. Legend wishes it wasn’t such a turn-on. “I swear to every Goddess in existence, after all you’ve put me through, if this isn’t the best kiss I’ve ever had, I’ll sell your hide for a single rupee.” 

“Wow,” Legend breathes. “You really know how to make a guy feel confident.”

“And I don’t need your stupid—”

Legend pulls Ravio in by his robe and slots their mouths together, kissing like each taste is a breath, like each spark is a measure of adoring warmth on an otherwise chilly night. He chases Ravio’s mouth and is chased in turn, until suddenly he realizes he's pressed against a wall and gasping from lightheadedness. 

“Rav,” he begins, having no idea what he actually wants to say. 

“Maybe…” Ravio takes a moment to simply breathe. “Maybe more than one rupee. Maybe fifty.”

“Fifty?” Legend repeats incredulously, then laughs. He hopes the others don't wake, but he doesn't really care if they do. “That’s it?”

Ravio licks his lips and presses closer. “Maybe a hundred, I’m not sure.”

“Sucked the math right out of you, huh?” Legend jokes, only belatedly realizing what an opening he has given the greedy salesman. 

Ravio’s grin is downright devilish. “Now there’s an idea.”

Legend prays. 

—

Part 2 (sort of nsfw)

[glassartpeasants]

Run Rabbit Run .08

Yandere!Eustass Kid x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, reader having a crisis, pregnancy, angst, probably slight cringe cause i've been sleep deprived and think everything good idea then, and most likely other shit i can't think of atm

A/N: apparently my body can't decide whether to write Kid or Kidd cause i wrote Kidd half way through this after spelling it 'Kid' in the last two fic's. So please bare with my stupidity

music playlist

@rebeccawinters @iggy5055 @dairygrrl @childconnoisseur @menifire1092 @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10 pt.11

~~~

Even though you’ve been counting down the months to finally reach Sabaody, a part of you yearned for just a few more weeks with G-5. Now, with only three more days till you dock at the archipelago, the excitement is palpable. Time seemed to have a mind of its own, neither hastening nor slowing. They say time flies when you're having fun, and indeed it did. Four months dwindled to three, then two, and before you knew it, you were down to mere days.

You couldn’t wait to see everyone, to reveal the person you’ve become during the two-year separation. The anticipation to demonstrate your newfound devil fruit powers and everything Smoker and G-5 have instilled in you. To prove that you've earned the title of a Straw Hat.  That even in the face of pregnancy, you stand strong, capable of protecting yourself and your friends. You’ve toiled day and night to hone your abilities and devil fruit powers, all while nurturing the life growing within you.

Tashigi helped you in buying things that’d make your life a bit easier. Pregnancy pillows, maternity clothes, vitamins to keep yourself healthy, and everything in between. She even convinced you to write a journal for every day of your pregnancy. It did help a lot more than you thought it would. You wrote what you wouldn’t tell anyone else and how you truly felt about your situation that day. Some good and some bad.

A wave of emotions would often overwhelm you when something triggered memories of your time with Kidd. The echo of people calling your name, the rumble of thunder, all reminiscent of your time spent in the shadows. While you knew you’d never be the same person you were before Kidd, you have strived to heal from all the things that have transpired.

It wasn’t working very well, though.

Looking at any reflective surface has your heart shattering when your eyes land on the visible scars on your body. Trying to picture yourself without the scars was impossible as you struggled not to imagine Kidd in the image as well. It was almost easier to pretend you were born with your scars rather than think about the one that gave them to you. Even in everyday life, he'd pop into your head when you weren’t thinking about him. Closing your eyes, you still see his amber eyes staring right back at you.

Being alone with your thoughts always makes things difficult. If it were too quiet, you’d hear his voice whispering in your ear. Feeling his fingers touching your skin when you wore short-sleeved shirts was also common. Times when you were so close to slumber, you’d start to smell his presence. The only thing that seems to calm you down now is a tune your mother used to sing to you.

It had been sealed away in your memories for years, and now you managed to remember the words and tune after having a dream about her singing it to you. You watched her rock yourself as she sang the little song before tucking you in. Her face was a blur, but you could still hear her. At least you could still remember her voice. Yet when she stopped singing, you immediately woke up.

Since then, you’ve been subconsciously humming it when working around the ship. You remember getting embarrassed when Tashigi asked you what you were singing. When you told her that it was something your mother sang to you when you were a baby, she got stars in her eyes.

“You should sing to them! I heard it’s extremely beneficial to the baby!” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Your more invested in this pregnancy than I am, and I'm the one carrying the baby.”

“I heard it’s great for bonding and-” She stopped herself before she could finish. You knew what she was trying to say and that there was no ill will behind it.

“It’s okay. I know you meant well. Maybe if the situation were different, I’d be more excited. But I don’t want to get too close to them since I’m putting them up for adoption.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot about that. I guess I just got excited for something other than listening to men yelling and fighting.”

“No, I promise it’s okay! Things happen. You meant well, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Leaning against the railing, you look out at the setting sun. The beautiful colors you memorize as you imagine sailing off with the Straw Hats. Happy laughter as you’d hear them tell their stories of their adventures from the two years you’ve been separated. You couldn’t wait to hear Luffy’s infectious laughter or see Robin's calming smile. Only three more days until you make it to Sabaody then-...

…What then?

You’d still be pregnant, on the run, and scared that any second Kidd’s going to show up and whisk you away. Even after you put up the baby for adoption, your body would still look pregnant for a while before going back to normal. Your body would wonder where the baby had gone and when it’d come back. How were you supposed to live life normally after this? Knowing that you have a baby out there that you’ll never get to see grow up. Always worry if they're safe and scared that Kidd might find them and use them as leverage to make you come back.

But at the same time, you couldn’t take them with you. The sea is no place to raise a child, let alone a baby. They could fall overboard, get kidnapped by Marines or rival pirate groups, hell, they could get ill at sea, and you wouldn’t have the medicine to make them better!

Anyway, you looked at it, it felt like nothing was the right choice. The negatives outweighed the positives in your head. It’s possible that everything you’ve experienced has made you an internal pessimist. That, or maybe you were just thinking logically. Either or, it still sucked.

“What are you thinking about?” Tashigi’s voice pulled you from your negative thoughts as she stood beside you.

“Everything and nothing at all. Three days, and then we’ll be enemies. Feels weird knowing that.”

“Yeah. It’s gonna be weird not having you around. I’m gonna be stuck as the only girl once again.” You laugh a bit at her admission.

“If only we’d be able to call one another. But it’s too much of a risk in case any higher-ups were to find out.” Both of you sigh before turning to each other.

“Why do you have to be a pirate?”

“Why do you have to be a Marine?” The two of you laugh as you see the stars start to appear in the night sky.

“The stars are pretty, huh? Maybe we can find constellations if we look hard enough.” You can see Tashigi thinking out of the corner of your eye before her head perks up.

“What if we take pictures? Like a group picture? We’d be able to remember each other even if we can’t talk.”

“You're right! We can do it tomorrow morning! I heard it’s supposed to be sunny and clear!”

“Perfect! We can go around telling the other Marines about it, and they’ll all agree. Vice Admiral Smoker, we might have to convince or drag.”

“I think it’ll be worth the extra chores.”

~~~

As you lay in your bed once more, you look out over the multiple sleeping marines. In a few days' time, you’ll never see them again. If you do, then you’d have to fight them. Once you get back to the Straw Hats, you’ll undoubtedly have a bounty from the government. Then you’ll genuinely be ‘enemies,’ but the thought of hurting any of them made you want to cry. How could you hurt those who took you in, no matter who you were? They risked getting in trouble and put themselves in danger just for you.

Maybe if your forced to fight them, you could just run away? Usopp does it a lot, so why couldn’t you?

You move slightly to get more comfy, only to hear a ‘thud’ come from the side of your bed. Gently moving to the best of your pregnant abilities, you manage to see a particular journal that you haven’t read since the first week you met the G-5.

Heat’s journal.

Biting your lip, you mentally fight to figure out whether you should read it or not. After taking months to try and process Heat’s internal thoughts and the truth about your home, perhaps you were ready to read the rest of it.

Scooting closer to the edge of the bed, you manage to grab the book by the tips of your fingers. You bring it up just enough for your other hand to hold it. A slight pain rummages through your body as you try to bring it up. Thankfully, you manage to pull it up just enough to grab it with your other hand. Snuggling into the bed more, you use the moon as a light source to read the book.

Something happened. I don’t know what it was exactly, but whatever it was, put (Y/N) in the hospital on the island we’re currently docked at. No one but Killer and Kidd himself were allowed to see her. Doctors must have been in and out of that room when (Y/N) first entered.

I can’t see (Y/N) trying to kill herself. Not with the small determination I can still see in her eyes. It had to be something involving Kidd. If Kidd can put a hot metal branding on her, then I don’t think he’d be above doing something to land her in the hospital.

I’ve talked to Wire about his thoughts on what could have happened. He told me that while he saw nothing, he heard multiple thuds and yelling coming from beneath the deck. Immediately upon hearing that, a sour taste filled my mouth. I have to go down and see for myself the room Kidd has been keeping (Y/N) in. There has to be something down there that could tell me something.

Of course, Kidd didn’t want his crew to know he almost killed you. Typical. What did Heat say when he saw you come back from the hospital? When what was the starting time when you forgot your memories. Gently skimming through the pages, you found the entry you were looking for.

I don’t think my eyes have ever widened as much as they did when I saw Kidd and (Y/N) holding hands. There was a bright smile on (Y/N)’s face when she finally came aboard the deck. Her legs are wobbly, and it looks like she’s learning how to walk again. She had bandages covering her head. Behind her and Kid was a doctor along with Killer.

Obviously, somethings not right. (Y/N) or Kidd must have hit her head so hard that a real doctor is needed. While I know it’s a very cliche scenario, I think that she must have hit her head so hard that her memory fogged. And if that’s so, what lies had Kidd told her already? Maybe if I'm able to get the doctor alone, I can get some information.

So Heat saw you the day you returned to the Victoria Punk after the incident? You were shocked that Kidd didn’t bring you back to the ship during the night. But thankfully, he was too stupid, and it allowed Heat to see the first part of the aftermath in real-time.

You don’t remember the first week or two when you got back to the Victoria. Not the doctors or leaving the hospital. It was probably for the best, though. You don’t need any more trauma than you already have.

“What were his thoughts during those five months?” Looking back at the marines to ensure they were sleeping, you flip through the pages again.

Caught (Y/N) staring out to sea earlier before the night entirely took over. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to her, honestly. I felt like I was going insane trying to figure out how or if I should help her now. She looks so happy now, but at the same time, her happiness is based on lies and blood.

Why did this have to happen? What sins did (Y/N) do in a past life that made this her reality? One minute, she was living her life, then the next, she’s stuck in a storage room on a pirate ship. I try not to think how alone she must have felt before this incident. Always being stuck in the dark and only seeing the same people over and over again. Me talking to her can only do so much. It won’t bring back her parents or friends. Nor will it bring back her home.

It still eats me knowing that I’m the reason this woman has no one left. No friends or family. Well, there’s those Straw Hats she’s told me about.

I remember them from Sabaody. Their captain was a strange one, but it did seem like he cared for his crew. If he’s willing to risk his life by storming Impel Down and Navy headquarters just to save his brother, then I think if there is any place or pirate crew for her to be in, it’d be the Straw Hats.

Maybe if I mention Saboady, it’ll spark something and clear the fog that’s invaded her mind.

"If only you knew Heat. It was the thing that made me realize somethings not right.” For a Kidd Pirate, he truly was a fallen angel in disguise. While you’ll never forgive him for what he did to your home, he proved that almost everyone deserves a second chance.

Holy shit. I can hear my heart beating in my ears. I haven’t run as quickly and quietly as I could in forever. Not to mention the underlying threat of getting caught giving (Y/N) a devil fruit.

Finding the damn thing was entirely on accident but a pain in the ass to bring on the ship without anyone noticing. Even stealing the fruit was a feat in itself. I don’t know how that fisherman found it or what he was planning on doing with it, but in the end, it’s going to a better cause. 

I managed to have (Y/N) eat it by luring her outside the dining hall earlier. When I watched her eat it all, it made a slight ease wash over me. At least now, she’d have a bit more of a fighting chance against Kidd if he did anything.

I feel bad that I couldn’t tell her everything right then and there, but I was already pushing it by being so close to everyone, especially with Killer being somewhere on deck. I didn’t want to cause a scene and have Kidd freak out or anything. The longer he’s in the dark, the safer it is for (Y/N) and myself.

Honestly, I thought Killer would have knocked some sense into Kidd when he found out about (Y/N). I was obviously very wrong. 

“If anything, he was just as insane as Kidd. Fueling his crazed thoughts and obsession. I still remember that dumb conversation I heard between him and Kidd about boarding up the storage room.” It pissed you off more that if it weren’t for Killer’s mask, you probably would have put two and two together quicker. Facial expressions are everything. 

I caught (Y/N) staring at the sky again. Thankfully, Killer and Wire were on the opposite side of the ship, so I was finally able to talk to (Y/N) alone. She didn’t know what I made her eat initially, which shocked me. Maybe she hadn’t done anything to trigger it yet.

We both found out pretty quickly what her devil fruit power was, though.

I was trying to tell her that everything she knew about Kidd was a lie. That her life was a lie. I wanted to be more collected and calm about it, but how do you carefully say something like that?  It was hard seeing her eyes flash all her emotions, but it soon turned to pain when a harsh shock hit my hands. It felt like a burning hot pole went straight through my hands. 

It hurt like a bitch, but the pain subsided when I saw her looking at her hands. When I also looked at them, I saw electricity slither across her hands. I watched her put her hands together and was speechless when a ball of pure electricity formed. She started panicking when the ball was getting too big for her to control and starting to hurt her. I told her to throw it out to sea, and when she did, I felt like I was watching the moon shrink. It was so bright and slightly calming. The farther it went, the more at ease I felt. (Y/N) had a chance. She had a chance to defend herself and run away.

And I’ll be there to make sure she’s safe.

Tears fall profusely down your face, reading the last line. How can the world be so cruel? All he wanted to do was help, and yet he lost his life.

You go to read the next page only to see it’s blank. Feeling your throat dry, you start skimming through the rest of the pages, hoping to see more writing, yet there is nothing. It felt like your heart had been ripped directly from your chest. That was the last thing Heat has ever written, and it just had to be the most heartbreaking thing to read.

Curling up as best you can, considering your belly, you hold Heat’s journal close to your chest. You try your best not to sob as you don’t want to wake up the rest of the Marines sleeping next to you. Between sniffles and the slight shaking as you try to control your breathing, you whisper to yourself in hopes that wherever Heat is, he’ll hear you.

“Thank you.”

~~~

Another island was reduced to ashes after falling victim to Eustass Kidd’s wraith. A once lush and thriving island is now in flames and crumbling as the ruthless pirate searched tirelessly for a certain someone last seen there.

“God fucking damnit! When I get my hands on whatever Marines are holding her, I’m going to kill every single one of them! They’ll wish they never got involved when I break each of their bones!” Kidd’s voice boomed across the town as his amber eyes scanned everywhere.

Where are you?! Why aren’t you here?!

“Kid.” Killer’s voice breaks through the brute's rage, making him turn his head.

“What Killer?!”

“We’ve searched everywhere, and there's no sign of her. It’s not like we can ask anyone either since everyone has evacuated before we arrived.”

Ever since the incident on Halyard Island, as soon as your location was revealed in the paper, people would evacuate their homes to try to save their families and avoid the unstable tornado of destruction that was Eustass Kidd. 

Some people stayed because it’d been their home since birth, and they’d rather die than leave it defenseless. There have been rebellions to try to stop Kidd, but they were always snuffed out the moment Kidd saw them. The same could be said for any Marines that were sent to stop him. Getting sent on a mission to any island that you had been spotted at was a death wish. Sometimes, the Marines were too late, and Kidd had already destroyed the island. But when Kidd would see them, he wouldn’t let any Marines leave until he talked to each and every single one of them. And since none of them had you, none of them would leave the island alive.

Your name had become a jinx to any Marine that spoke it. Speaking your name would always have the Marine that spoke it sent out on the next mission to stop Kid from destroying yet another island just to find you. And since none of them had you, they’d never come back alive to say what they’ve experienced.

After being the ‘cause’ of death for so many Marines, some rookies have given you the nickname ‘Devil’s Darling.’ It was a joke at first, but as the death toll rose and how Kidd’s name got more infamous, more and more people adopted it. And with a nickname like that, more people have come to hate you.

While you haven’t done anything, the fact is that if it weren’t for you escaping, no one would have gotten hurt. If only you had bit the bullet, no one would have lost their lives. Many victims of Kidd’s rage blame you for it. Anger and fear take over the hearts of many, and to the civilians of the New World, you’ve become as feared and hated as the man hunting you down.

The government had become more conflicted on where to stand with you. While you were technically innocent, the people have been nagging them to put an official bounty on your head. If they did, you’d only be wanted alive. The power they could hold if they managed to capture you. You could be the key to finally catching and imprisoning Eustass Kidd.

And Kidd knew all of this.

He knew the hatred the people had started to hold for you. How they’d give you to him if they managed to recognize and grab you before you left the island. In a way, he had the whole New World in his hand. Their hatred and fear was and will be the town’s own undoing.

The only people stopping him were fucking journalists who don’t say or do a thing when they see you. They are so desperate for a story and to lead him on that they don’t care about how they’ve helped in the destruction.

“Of course, she isn’t here. Fucking hate those journalists and Marines.” Kidd kicked a smoldering piece of wood in anger. Ashes fly to the sky as it did nothing to soothe his rage.

They don’t understand that he needs you. He dreams of you every night. Dreams of you laying next to him and kissing his face. Some where you were holding his child, soothing them to sleep. Humming a small tune before noticing him and smiling. You’d say something to him, but he could never remember what it was when he woke up.

And while there were dreams, nightmares followed suit. Nightmares of you falling into the ocean and sinking to the bottom with your hand outstretched for Kidd to grab and save you. Or the times when you’d be running from Marines to him only for you to get shot as soon as he had you in your arms. The nightmares plagued him much more than he dreamt of you. He’s always had nightmares when you weren’t lying next to him. Ever since the first night you’ve slept with him in his bed, he’s never been able to sleep alone without waking up sometimes during the night. The warmth your body gave him while you slept, go thim addicted.

Those first few months you left and joined those damn Straw Hats, the same nightmare happened every night. It replayed the scene of you sailing away from him over and over again. No matter what, those months without you behind closed doors were pure hell for Kidd. You were just gone from his life after being by his side for a year and a half. He’d never get to kiss you or hold you close again.

But just as Killer tried to get Kidd over you, he saw you.

He was fighting a pacifista next to that dweeb Trafalgar Law when he turned his head, and there you were. You were running as fast as you could, and there he saw you. What you were running from, he didn’t know, but what he did know was that you were alone. No Straw Hats or Marines to take you away now. You were his for the taking once more, and this time, he’d make sure you knew it-

“Earth to Kidd!” Blinking a few times, Kidd’s pulled from his memories by Killer snapping his fingers in his face.

“I was thinking! What is it?”

“Haven’t you noticed a pattern? How each island she’s at, she gets closer and closer to the Navy Headquarters?” A pit filled Kidd’s stomach hearing Killer’s words.

“What are you saying, Killer? Spill it!”

“What if their taking her to the safety of Navy Headquarters? Or worse, Impel Down?” Kidd grits his teeth at the thought. No way in hell was he gonna let those fuckers take you.

“Any Marine ship we see, attack. Don’t care if they're not in our course. No Marine ship will get past the Victoria. Search every part of the Marine ship, and if she isn’t there, sink the ship to the bottom of the sea.”

“And the Marines on it?”

“Kill them all.”

~~~

“You wanted to see me, Vice Admiral? If it’s about the pictures we did yesterday, I have some here if you want to choose one.-”

“Sit. We need to talk.” Your heart stopped for a second, but you managed to snap back and sit on the chair in front of his desk. The way he sat in his chair behind the desk made you bite the inside of your cheek. When Tashigi told you that he wanted to see you, you were nervous. She said that while she didn’t know why he wanted to, you had no need to be scared.

Obviously, she was wrong.

“O-Oh? What about?” You can feel your palms sweat as the room seems to heat up.

“The government has finally put up a bounty for you.” Hearing those words come from Smoker's mouth made time stop as thousands of scenarios played through your head. Would he turn you in?

“But I haven’t done anything! Why do I have a bounty?!”

“You haven’t done anything. But Kidd has.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“He’s been destroying islands, villages, and Marine ships nonstop. Anything in his path has become a victim of his rage. According to headquarters, we’ve lost a lot of good men to him. Rookies, Vice Admirals, and Admirals even have been killed. His bounty has tripled in the last six months. Wouldn’t shock me if it raises the next time the new bounty posters come up.” You were speechless. How many people have been hurt or killed because of you? So many deaths for simply living. This has to be a nightmare.

“I don’t understand. Why do I have a bounty for things he’s done? I’m not out here hurting people!” Smoker sighed before running a hand through his hair.

“They want to use you to lure Kidd so they can capture him. That and many people of the New World are treating you as much of a threat as kid himself is.”

“I’ve never hurt anyone! I hate Kidd as much as they do, so why do they hate me?...”

“Fear. Kidd’s insanity has caused fear to cover the entire New World. Seeing your name and last known location in the paper is a death wish for the island you were last seen at. I don’t know how these damn journalists keep spotting you no matter what disguise we put you in.”

“It’s like they’re actively looking for me. Why are they so determined to find me? People have been hurt, yet they don’t care!” Guilt starts to eat at you as the thought of countless people getting hurt because of your problems eats at your heart.

“First Heat…now this? Why is this happening to me? What have I done to deserve this?” You whisper to yourself as you lay your hands on your thighs before gripping your pants tightly. Tears start to whelm in your eyes as you bite your lip. The images of people's faces you’ve never seen before start to pop up in your mind as if to make you suffer more. The survivor's guilt already consumed you after Heat’s death, but now, with having so much more ‘blood’ on your hands, the pain was unbearable.

“Heat? Where have I heard that name before?”

“He was a crewmate on Kidd’s ship. He’s…no longer with us.”

“A Marine kill him? I don’t think I’ve heard of any Kidd Pirates getting sent to Impel Down.”

“No. Kidd did.” Even though you spoke between sobs, SMoker still managed to catch your words. He was stunned to hear such a thing. Killing his own crew? If he can do that without remorse, what else is he willing to do?

“He helped me escape the first time I was stuck with Kidd. He undid the chain that was connected to a collar Kidd had me wear and told me to run. When he saw that I had gotten captured again, he tried to help me again, but…”

“But?”

You ran as fast as you could around teh deck to try and find Heat and Kidd. In the dark, the whole boat felt like a maze. Each passing second was an eternity. How can you find them in time?

“Your fucking stupid to think I wouldn’t notice how you're trying to play hero! At first, I gave you the benefit of the doubt when you let her go the first time. But now, when everything’s good, you're trying to ruin it!” Kidd’s voice rang in your left ear, making you stop in your tracks.

“What are you talking about Kidd? Are you drunk or something?”

“Don’t play dumb! You know damn well what I’m talking about! Your telling (Y/N) shit she doesn’t need to remember! Telling her things that’ll ruin what I’ve worked so hard for! She’s happy, and you want her to be sad?!”

“That’s not happiness, Kidd! Her ‘happiness’ is based on lies! I know I’m not the greatest person. I have skeletons in my closet, but what you're doing is insane!” Hearing Heat bite back makes you dash towards the two voices.

Just then, a few loud thumps accompanied by a cough echoed across the deck. A bang was soon heard right after, and it only made you run faster. When you finally made it to the source, your horrified to see Kidd with his back facing you and a bloody, jagged knife in his hand. In front of him, you see Heat on the deck with his back leaning against the railing. Red starts to seep through his clothes, as you can hear his breathing become erratic. You watched him cough harshly and see droplets of blood shooting out from his mouth.

“I don’t remember asking for your input, Heat. I won’t let you ruin this for me. If only you had minded your business, then none of this would have to happen.” Heat gives Kidd a strong glare before laughing at him. His teeth covered in blood as he smiled at Kidd.

“She’ll find out. It may not be by me, but your house of cards is crumbling, Kidd. She’s gonna find out whether you like it or not.” You can hear Kidd crack his neck at Heat’s words.

“Not to mention, she and the rest of the crew are gonna wonder what’s happened to me. How are you gonna explain that?”

“I can just say you fell overboard. Since your a devil fruit user, you’ll sink to the bottom. The crew will believe it, and so will (Y/N).”

“Doubt it. She’s not stupid, Kidd. She’s gonna remember everything that’s happened. Her home, friends, family, and everything you’ve done to her, she’s gonna remember. And when she does, I’ll be laughing in hell.” You watch Kidd charge at Heat with the knife clutched tightly in his hand.

“No!” Running from your hiding spot, you jump in front of Heat. Despite the fear that coursed through you, you spread your arms out to a T so you can protect him from your knife-wielding lover. Your arrival brought silence among the three of you.

“(Y/N)...” Glancing back to Heat, you see the shock in his eyes. Your heart bleeds as Heats breath becomes more ragged with each second that passes. 

“(Y/N)! What are you doing?! You need to get away from him! He’s working for the Marines! He’s a traitor!” Biting your lip between your teeth, you try not to cry as your lover lies directly in your face so casually. 

A strong, familiar tingling feeling circulated through your arms and legs as you stood in front of Heat. Buzzing rings in your ears as the feeling grows stronger as you anticipate Kidd’s next move.

“Move (Y/N). I’m trying to protect you! He’s going to hurt you, it’s not safe next to him.” Looking into Kidd’s eyes, you stand yoru ground and still stand in his path. You can feel your heart race as he reaches out to you. The feeling of his fingertips from his real arm just barely touching your wrist before a loud ZAP could be heard echoing across the Victoria Punk.

“Son of a bitch!” Kid recoils his hand back and tries brushing it against his red feathered coat. The buzzing of the zap still ringing in your ears as you quickly turn your attention to Heat. You're quick to start inspecting him for more wounds but can only see one. A stab wound dangerously close to the heart but at a perfect position for it to be in the lungs. While Kidd missed the heart, he managed to puncture a lung which could be just as fatal. It also explains the coughing up of blood.

“Heat! Hang on! Everything will be okay! Just give me a second!-”

“Where did you get devil fruit powers?...” You stutter as you try to figure out a lie to say. Yet, you watch Heat give Kidd a bloody smirk. From that, it didn’t take long for Kidd to put two and two together.

“You gave her devil fruit powers?! I’m going to fucking kill you, you bastard!” Your heart almost stops completely as you see Kidd stomping towards the two of you. The way his face looked so sinister made it feel like you were living another nightmare.

Quick to jump to your feet again, you place yourself between Heat and Kidd. The buzzing continued, and you watched as electricity slithers around your arms and legs, helping you give off a threatening aura.

“Don’t you dare hurt him, Kidd!” Despite the electricity covering you, Kidd still reaches out. Just as you watch him reach for your arm, he changes direction and grabs your hair. With a harsh tug, Kidd throws you behind him. Your body hits against the hard wooden deck with a ‘thunk.’

You can feel the air being knocked out of your lungs as tears prickle your eyes. As you struggle to get over the pounding in your head and the ache in your body, you hear Heat cough harshly again. When you open your eyes to look at the two men, your eyes widen in horror as you watch Kidd hold Heat up by the throat. Lifting him to his feet, you see Heat struggle to get Kidd’s metal hand off his throat. 

“Enjoy the bottom of the sea Heat! Say hi to the sea kings that’ll feast on your corpse, will ya?” Jumping to your feet despite still being dizzy, you dash towards Kidd and Heat. But just as you took three steps in, you watched as Kidd threw Heat against the railing, making him tumble over it and fall off the boat. 

Running to the railing and praying that he’s simply hanging on, your hopes were crushed as soon as you heard the heartbreaking sound of water splashing. Leaning over the edge to see if you could throw him a rope, you only had time to see bubbles rising to the water's surface before Kidd grabbed you by the hair and began to drag you away.

“Kidd found out about it. My devil fruit powers wouldn’t be a thing if it weren’t for Heat. If it wasn’t for him, who knows how long I would have been stuck with Kidd and his web of lies.”

“How long has it been since his death?” While he could see that this was obviously a sensitive topic for you, perhaps if you spoke about it, it might loosen whatever burden his death has caused.

“A week had passed after his death when you guys found me. So, as long as I’ve been here plus a week.” Letting out a hum, Smoker continued to listen.

“It’s all my fault…If only I had been more careful then maybe he’d still be here. He’d still be alive instead of at the bottom of the sea.”

“I watched Kidd kill him. I saw Kidd kill the only friend I had and there was nothing I could do about it!”

‘That explains a lot. There’s a lot more layers of trauma she hasn’t told me or Tashigi about. If there's something that traumatic she’s keeping to herself, what else could be going on inside that she’s not talking about?’

“There are times when I feel like he’s haunting me. I see him sometimes in my nightmares. Or times when I’m leaning against the railing and go to look down at the sea only to see Heat standing beside me. But when I go to check if he’s really there, it’s always an empty space. I’ve caught glimpses of him staring at me through the crowd. People walk back and forth and I see him staring at me. But then somebody walks in front of him, and then he’s gone!” Smoker watches as your body shakes and tears begin pouring down your face. You grip your uniform pants even harder as you try to stabilize yourself as you begin to hyperventilate.

“Every time I see him, I don’t see the Heat I know. I see him as a corpse. No matter what he’s always just staring at me with lifeless eyes. It always looks like he’s…”

“At the bottom of the sea?”

“Yeah. Down there.” A minute os silence passes before SMoker speaks.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty for his death. From how much you’ve told me, it sounds like he knew the risks that came with trying to set you free. That he’d be putting his own life in danger to help yours. Do you think he’d want you to feel guilty for a sacrifice he was willing to make?”

“No.”

“Then don’t blame yourself for something that someone did of their own free will.”

“Yes, Vice Admiral.” While Smoker knew a single sentence wouldn’t fix all the trauma Heat’s death had obviously caused, he supposed it was better to get it off your chest. With Heat’s death, along with the people Kidd’s hurt in your name lingering in your mind, he can’t imagine the toll it’s taken on you.

~~~

Today’s the day. According to Tashigi, you guys should be at Sabaody before 3 pm. After months of training and pregnancy, along with your time with Kidd, you’ll finally be able to return to the Straw Hats.

It feels unreal. Almost as if it’s a dream. Yet, the dangers of Sabaody didn’t slip your mind. Bounty hunters, potential civilians willing to hunt you down, and the navy waiting to use you as bait. All odds were against you.

You did know the sunny was docked at tree 41, so maybe you could have G-5 bring you close but not too close to the sunny? The closer you are to it, the safer it’ll be for you. Well, you and the baby.

Not a second goes by where it’s not on your mind. Any time you move, you have to be cautious you don’t hit your tummy on anything. Eating foods became a test as foods you used to love, you now despise. Now, you're studying foods that are healthy for the baby and what’s not. Anything an over-paranoid pregnant woman does, you did. Even though you're gonna give up the baby for adoption when the time comes, you are gonna make sure the baby is healthy. 

There was a nagging feeling that ate at you whenever you were alone. Sometimes, you could feel the baby kick whenever you tapped your belly purposefully or on accident. It was as if they were responding to you. If they could feel the vibrations from a simple tap, could they also hear you talk about not wanting them? Even if six months old, what if? You knew it was impossible for them to understand you, but the nagging feeling never went away. 

Maybe when you reunite with the Straw Hats, that nagging feeling will fade away.

~~~

Another art thing. not really proud of it but it is what it is

[bupia]

Bloodlust: Chapter 6 - Dracopia x Fem!Reader

Summary: The following morning has finally arrived, marking Copia's highly anticipated reunion with his long-lost siblings after years of separation. Driven by his quest to uncover the truth about his mysterious past, Copia isn't quite prepared for what his siblings have to share. However, as secrets are unveiled, new layers of Copia's story are revealed, plunging him deeper into his enigmatic past.

Words: 14.222

Warnings: Angst (blood; mortality; dead body; blood drink; mentions of mortality; bite) | SMUT! (dirty talk; oral sex, m-f; fingering; teasing; overstimulate; oral sex, f-m; bites during sex; penetration: p in v; unprotected sex; breeding) | Swearing | Italian swearing

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Available on AO3

Final chapter.

Tag list: @copiasslut @copiasprincipessa @haelithra @new-age-space-age @the-did-i-ask @sodoswitchimage @thesoundresoundsecho @fishwithtitz @nimbusghoul @enchantedbunny

A delicate tickle graced your cheek, swiftly followed by a soft, affectionate kiss. It roused you from your slumber, with the softest of giggles. Slowly, your eyelids fluttered open, revealing Copia's hand tenderly cradling your face. He drew you nearer, gracing your cheek with a cascade of affectionate kisses, each one warmer than the last.

With your eyes half-lidded, you turned your face toward him, glimpsing a faint smile adorning his lips. He leaned in closer, gently bestowing a tender peck upon your lips.

"Buongiorno, dormigliona," he murmured softly.

"Good morning, Copia," you replied, your voice carrying a trace of morning warmth.

With a gentle motion, you shifted your body towards him, nestling your forehead against his chest. Inhaling deeply, you allowed his comforting presence to wash over you. Your hand found its place on his chest, fingers tracing tender patterns through the fabric of his shirt, while you nuzzled your face against him.

"How did you sleep, cara?" he inquired softly.

"I had a good night, what about you?" you replied.

"I... I didn't sleep at all," he admitted with a hint of unease in his voice.

"Why?" you asked, your words barely more than a murmur.

"I spent the whole night trying to remember something about my past, about that day, about her. But all I can remember are flashbacks of the church in ruins and me killing those people," Copia confessed, his voice weighed down by the weight of his memories.

"Copia," you began gently, "you had a traumatic event in your life. You lost your home, your brothers, and someone you loved. It's not easy to cope with such loss, and it's not your fault for struggling to remember. Your brain is simply processing it the best way it can."

"I just wish I could at least remember something, feel something," Copia lamented.

"And you do, Copia, not all of it, but you do have some memories inside of you," you reassured him gently. "I don't know how it feels to carry that burden, how you must be feeling right now," you took a deep breath, "but trust me, everything is going to be alright."

Copia locked his gaze with yours and enveloped you in a tight embrace. You reciprocated, drawing him close as you took a deep, calming breath. His lips found the top of your head, leaving a gentle kiss in their wake, prompting you to turn your face to meet his, your eyes connecting.

However, something caught your attention, causing your eyebrows to furrow. Your hand instinctively moved to Copia's lips, and your thumb brushed against his thin mustache, wiping something away. As you turned your thumb in your direction, realization struck you like a bolt, and your eyes widened. The red spot on your thumb took you by surprise, and you turned your gaze to Copia, where you could see the embarrassment in his eyes.

"Copia... Is this...?"

Copia took your hand in his, bringing your thumb to his lips, and with a gentle suck, he cleaned it. "Mi dispiace, amore, I... felt a little hungry," he admitted with a hint of sheepishness.

You withdrew your hand from his and brought it up to your neck, a look of concern on your face as you sat up abruptly on the bed. Copia's eyes widened, and he followed suit, holding your face with both of his hands.

"No, no, no, no, amore," Copia reassured you, shaking his head earnestly. "It's not from you, I promise."

You nodded, removing your hand from your neck but still watching him closely, though his expression turned melancholy. He let go of your face, turning his head away.

"Copia..." you murmured, calling for him.

"Do you really think I would do it to you, cara?" he asked, his voice heavy with disappointment.

"No, Copia... I'm sorry," you apologized, reaching for his hands and holding them tightly. "It was an involuntary reaction. I'm deeply sorry, Copia. I know you wouldn't hurt me."

Copia turned his face back to meet yours, and you gave him a gentle smile. Leaning in, you pressed a tender kiss on his lips and let out a heavy sigh.

"I know you wouldn't hurt me. You promised to take care of me, and I believe you will," you whispered against his lips, reaffirming your trust in him.

Copia's eyes softened as he heard your words, and he held your hands with a reassuring grip. "I would never want to hurt you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity.

"Yes, I know, I'm sorry," you expressed with regret.

Copia smiled warmly and reassured you, "It's okie dokie, cara mia."

"You promise me?"

"Sì," Copia affirmed. "I do understand your fear." He leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on your cheek.

"I'm not afraid of you..." you started to say, but before you could finish, Copia took the initiative. He grabbed your waist and laid you down, crawling his body on top of yours.

"Aren't you, amore?" his face hovered just inches away from yours, and a playful smile danced on his lips as he asked.

You shook your head, denying any fear, and your hands found their way to his face. With a sense of longing and desire, you closed the gap between you two, capturing his lips with your own. Your hands roamed his face, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, pressing his body against yours. Copia adjusted his position, his hand moving to your thighs, gently parting them to settle himself more comfortably between them.

You moved one of your legs closer to his hips, exerting a gentle yet purposeful pressure to anchor him in position. His hands caressed your thighs before gliding up to your hips, securing their grip with firmness. As your chest pressed against his, your hands began to wander over his back. His fingers traced intricate patterns along your sides, evoking a sharp intake of breath from you.

"I think I need some more time in bed with you," a mischievous glint sparkled in Copia's eyes as he whispered, his warm breath brushing against your lips.

"Yeah? Why?" you asked, tilting your head.

Copia gazed into your eyes with a playful glint, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Because," he whispered huskily, his voice laced with desire, "I can't think of a better way to start the morning than in the warmth of your arms."

With a playful smile, you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss. The kiss was soft at first, but soon became more passionate, with tongues intertwining and hands roaming over each other's bodies. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest as you felt yourself getting aroused. He responded by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to him. You felt the heat of his body through his shirt as he pressed against you.

Your hands wandered down his back, exploring every inch of him as you continued to kiss him passionately. Copia moaned into your mouth, his hands running up and down your sides. His lips were hot on yours, and you could feel a heat emanating from them. The kiss were becoming more demanding his tongue sliding deeper inside your mouth, tasting you.

You broke away from the kiss, your breath ragged as you gazed deeply into Copia's eyes. His gaze intensified, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, and a playful grin played upon his lips.

"Should we get up now? To meet your brothers," you asked, your breath still heavy.

"Oh no," Copia replied, "We're going to stay here for a while longer."

You smiled at his response, nodding in agreement. Perhaps his brothers could wait a little longer as you and Copia savored the present moment. However, your heart raced as you felt his hand slide under your shirt.

"W-What are you doing, Copia?" you stammered, your voice quivering with surprise.

"Let me compensate for yesterday, amore," he murmured softly, his eyes filled with desire and tenderness.

Your breath quickened even further as his hand slowly moved down between your legs, making their way towards your ache core. You let out a soft gasp as his fingers touched your core, your hips bucking involuntarily. You bit your lip, and Copia grinned at your reaction, his fingers gently rubbing your sensitive flesh over your panties.

"A-Are you sure about it, Copia? We don't need to do it now," you hesitated, seeking confirmation.

"You don't want to do it?" he inquired.

"I... I want," you admitted, your desire matching his.

"So let me do it for you, cara," he whispered

You moaned softly, your hands finding their way to his hair, gently tugging on it as his fingers made their way to your clit. Copia gazed into your eyes with a wicked grin on his face.

"You like it like this, amore?" he asked.

You nodded your head in response, your agreement silently conveyed. However, before you could utter a word or share another breath, your mind went blank as Copia's fingers slip inside your panties finding your clit. Your hips bucked upward as he began rubbing it gently, causing you to whimper.

"Yes... Copia... please," you whispered. "More..."

Copia met your plea with a knowing smile, ready to fulfill your every desire. Your legs shook as he caressed your clit gently between his fingers. You closed your eyes, your whole body shaking as you arched your back, grinding your core against his fingers.

"So wet," he murmured, his fingers sliding along your slit. "I'm very satisfied to feel how wet you are for me, amore," he said, rubbing your clit harder.

He withdrew his hand from inside your panties going with it to the waistbands, slowly pulling them down your legs. He lowered his body, leaving his hand between your legs, still caressing your core. You opened your eyes, widening in surprise as you felt him kissing your inner thighs. A soft moan escaped your lips as your fingers tangled in his hair.

"I can't wait to taste you here, amore," Copia whispered.

"C-Oh! Copia..." you moaned, your hips moving up and down. "Please... I need you."

"Do you?" he asked, his voice filled with desire.

"Y-Yes... P-please..."

His tongue darted out to taste you. One of your hands rested on the edge of the bed, your eyes closed again as you enjoyed the feeling of Copia's tongue lapping at your flesh. As he opened his mouth wider, you could feel something sharp brushing against the sensitive skin of your core. You opened your eyes to see him staring up at you, his head moving slowly, his tongue gliding over your wetness. Your eyes closed once again, your breathing coming in short pants.

His tongue swirled around your clit, making you squirm. Copia spread your legs wider, his hands resting on your thighs as he licked you. His tongue circled your clit, teasing it. You cried out, your body shaking as his tongue made its way down your slit, plunging deep inside you.

"Oh yes! That feels so good," you sighed, your fingers digging into the bed.

Your body writhing as Copia's tongue explored your entrance. The fingers your had on his head, ran though his hair, holding onto him tightly. His hand found its way to your clit, rubbing it. Your juices flowing freely, coating his fingers. He pushed his head closer to your core, his tongue plunging deeper, thrusting you with it.

You wrapped your legs around his head, pulling him deeper, wanting more. Copia moaned against your core, the vibrations sending chills through you. You moaned loud and your head rolled from side to side, the sound of his mouth sucking and licking your wetness sent shivers down your spine. His fingers stroking faster, your hips bucking against his face.

"Oh... Copia, Copi-Ah! Yes, just like that, don't stop," you cried out.

You grabbed a hold of his hair, puling him into you harder. Your nails digging into his scalp, he lets go of your clit, and reaches up to grab both of your breasts under your shirt. Pushing them together, his mouth still working over your core. He squeezed your breasts hard, pinching your nipples between his fingers. His tongue went again to your clit, flicking it over then dipping lower to taste your wetness.

"Oh!" you gasped. "Fuck! Copia... Please... Ah! How can you be so good at this?"

He lowered one of his hands, moving it back to between your legs, going with it inside of you, pumping in and out slowly. You bit your lip, feeling his fingers sliding in and out of you. He added another finger, pumping them faster, matching the speed of his tongue.

"Copi-Ah! I can't, this is too much, oh fuck," you moaned loud.

"Is it? Do you want to cum?" he asked, his voice husky.

"Yes! yes! yes! yes!"

"Molto bene," he cooed. "Just wait a little longer for me, amore, sì? Just a little bit longer."

You nod and he kept the peace of his moves inside you, working on your spot. His tongue flicked around your clit again, then went to your entrance. Faster now, he sucked on your clit, his fingers thrusting harder. His other hand still playing with your nipple, pinching and tugging at them. You can feel your orgasm building deep within you, your muscles tightening around his finger.

"Copia... I'm going to..." you whimpered.

"Not yet, amore," he said, pushing his fingers deeper inside of you.

"I can't take it anymore, please," you begged, trying to pull away from his mouth. "I want to cum, I need to cum."

He withdrew his hand from your breast and wrapped his arms around your leg, pushing you further onto his face, burring his face deeper on your wetness. You arched your back, grinding your core against his face. Your breath quickening as you tried to fight the urge to come.

"Please... please..." you cried out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and went with his tongue to your entrance, plugging deep inside of you, tasting your juices, moaning into your core. You were almost there, you could feel it coming. And then, just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he stopped.

"Now, amore, now!" he growled, taking your clit between his lips.

He sucked hard on it, and you screamed out feeling your orgasm building inside of you. Your breathing rapid, your chest heaving as he sucked your clit. You screamed loud, your back arching and your body convulsing. Your hand gripping the sheets as he sucked on your clit, pushing you over the edge.

"Yes, Copia, I'm going... I'm go... I... I..."

You felt your orgasm rushing through your body, your walls contracting, your body shaking uncontrollably. You screamed as you came, your juices pouring out of you, covering his face. He lapped up every drop, savoring your taste, swallowing them greedily.

You looked down at him, your eyes glowing with your orgasm, and smiled. He looked up at you, giving you a soft kiss on your clit. He removed his face from between your legs, crawling back to the top of you.

"That was amazing," you whispered, breathless, your fingers gently tracing patterns on his skin.

"Was it?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Yes... it was very good, Copia," you reassured him.

"I'm glad I was able to give pleasure to you, cara mia," he said with a satisfied smile on his lips.

You giggled slightly, your affection for him shining brightly. You cupped his face with both of your hands and leaned in with a tender, passionate kiss. You felt his body relax on top of yours. The kiss deepened, and you could taste yourself on his lips.

"Now I think it's my time to give you something," you whispered, your hand gently trailing down his chest, your intentions clear as your desire for him continued to burn brightly.

But before you could reach for him, he gently grabbed your hand, stopping you. "Amore, it's not necessary," he said with a warm smile.

"But, Copia, I want to do it for you," you insisted, your desire to please him evident in your eyes.

"I know, amore, but I think we don't have enough time," he explained. "I should be going to meet miei fratelli."

"Are you sure?" you asked, your lower lip pouting slightly.

He nodded and pressed a gentle peck on your lips. "I want to ask you to come with me because I don't want to face miei fratelli alone, but I'm too afraid to bring you there. I know they wouldn't hurt you, but I don't know how much they've changed," Copia admitted, his vulnerability showing as he shared his concerns with you.

"Copia, I can go with you. I'm not afraid of them at all, because I know they will not hurt me," you assured him, punctuating your words with a tender kiss on his lips. "I have you by my side, and you promised me you won't let anything happen to me, and I trust you."

"Would you really do it for me?" Copia asked, his eyes searching yours for confirmation.

"Copia, I would do anything for you," you replied with sincerity. "Do you want to go to meet them now?"

"Can you get up?" Copia arched a playful brow, his eyes filled with amusement.

You looked at him, blushing hard. "I- I... I'm afraid I can't," you admitted shyly.

He chuckled, biting his lower lip. "Then we can stay like this for some more minutes."

Copia lay down next to you, pulling you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace. You rested your face on his chest, closing your eyes, allowing your body to relax. As you shifted your leg, you bumped into something. Curiosity piqued, you opened your eyes and widened them in surprise as you saw the bulge on his pants.

"Copia..." you began.

"Leave it, amore, it's fine," he said, blushing even deeper.

You couldn't help but giggle at his embarrassment, finding his reaction endearing. Closing your eyes again, you wrapped an arm around him, holding him close. Copia pulled the sheets to cover both of you, enveloping you in a cozy warmth.

After a few minutes of peaceful intimacy in bed, he pressed a loving kiss on the top of your head. You opened your eyes and looked at him, giving him a gentle smile in response. You slowly sat up on the bed, yawning softly before getting up and heading to your wardrobe. You selected some clothes and turned to Copia, who remained on your bed.

"I'm going to take a shower, and I'll be right back," you informed him, seeing him nod in agreement.

With that, you left the bedroom and made your way to the bathroom, preparing for a refreshing shower to start your day. The water embraced you in its gentle warmth, and you closed your eyes, letting the tranquility of the moment wash over you. As you sank deeper into the water, your mind briefly wandered to the incredible moments you had shared with Copia. It was indeed amazing how he made you feel, and the connection between you was undeniable.

However, you realized that lingering on those memories would needlessly extend your time in the bath. With a serene smile, you chose to set aside those thoughts for now and direct your attention to the current moment. Exiting the comforting bathwater, you reached for a towel and proceeded to get dressed. Once you were dressed, you left the bathroom, returning to your bedroom to find Copia already wearing his attire.

You rested against the doorframe, your gaze fixated on him with unwavering attention. Your eyes followed every curve and line of his form as he stood before the mirror, meticulously perfecting his outfit. He turned his face towards his shoulder, as he caught your reflection in the mirror. Copia's gentle smile graced his lips as he took a few steps toward you, cradling your face with both of his hands and planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Should we be going now?" you inquired.

"Sì, we should," he replied.

"Are you nervous, Copia?" you asked.

"A little, but it's going to be alright, with you by my side," he reassured you.

You nodded, and he released his hold on your face, taking your hand in his. Together, you walked to the living room and left the house. As you strolled down the street side by side, heading toward the location where the ball had taken place a few weeks ago, you could feel the tension in Copia's grip on your hand. You were nervous too, but you needed to remain composed to support Copia through this.

Upon arriving at the old house where the ball was held, Copia suddenly stopped in his tracks, gazing at it intently. You took a small step in front of him, offering a reassuring smile. You gently tugged on his hand, guiding him toward the old house. The two of you stood before the front door, and you knocked. Copia's grip on your hand remained firm as the door swung open, revealing Terzo.

"Fratello! Sei venuto!" Terzo averted his gaze from Copia and looked at you. "And, as it seems, you've brought a guest."

"Sì, I asked her to join me," Copia replied, his body still tense as he released a heavy sigh.

"Well, I don't see any issue with that, given we weren't entirely certain you'd honor our little reunion with your presence," Terzo said with a wide smile as he wrapped his arms around Copia, embracing him tightly.

"Cosa sto facendo qui, Terzo?" Copia inquired, his expression unreadable, not moving a muscle.

"Da quando sei diventato così brontolone?" Terzo chuckled, releasing Copia from the hug and giving him an affectionate pat on the back. "Non preoccuparti, fratello," Terzo sighed, a warm smile gracing his lips. "Ti abbiamo appena sentito mancare."

"Maybe we should go inside now, right?" you suggested, reaching for Copia's hand with a warm smile on your lips.

"Piccolina is right," Terzo agreed, turning his back and starting to lead the way back inside the old house. "Inside awaits i nostri fratelli and," he paused, looking at you over his shoulder with a mischievous grin, "food."

With a smirk, Terzo took the lead, and you followed closely behind Copia. While you weren't scared, you couldn't help but feel a touch of nervousness about meeting Copia's brothers and how he would react to the reunion.

As the three of you entered a room, the air was filled with the scent of fresh blood. Your gaze scanned the room and landed on a man holding a woman in his arms. Copia's eyes fixed on him as he fed on the woman, his fangs gleaming as he satisfied his thirst. Your expression tightened at the sight, fascination and trepidation swirling within you. Your grip on Copia's hand tightened, and he turned his face to you.

"Don't worry, cara," he whispered softly.

Terzo observed the two of you and cleared his throat, prompting the man to release the woman he had been feeding on, her lifeless body falling to the floor. He quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and greeted Copia with a wide, friendly smile.

"Copia!" He exclaimed, his arms wide open as he approached Copia with genuine delight. "Non posso credere che tu sia veramente qui," he said, carefully stepping over the woman's lifeless body on the floor. Then, his gaze turned toward you with a hunger in his eyes, and he licked his lips slowly. "E hai portato uno spuntino con te."

Your discomfort grew as you felt his hungry gaze on you, and Copia's grip on your hand tightened. Your hand found its way to his back, with a firm grip you hold his shirt. Copia hesitated for a moment, his gaze shifting between the man outstretched arms and the lifeless woman at their feet.

"Lei non è uno spuntino, Secondo," Copia said firmly, his protective instinct evident as he pulled you closer to him.

"For now," Secondo conceded, wrapping his arms around Copia in a show of brotherly affection. "But it's okay, fratello, we all need a bit of fun from time to time," he added with a wink. Secondo then patted Copia's back and released him, keeping his cheerful disposition intact. "But tonight, we celebrate our reunion!"

"I want to enjoy this moment as well, but I think we have things to discuss, sì?" Copia said, his tone carrying a hint of seriousness.

Secondo let out a thoughtful hum and then turned his attention to Terzo. "Go wake up Primo, Terzo," Secondo ordered.

"Why don't you do it, cretino?" Terzo shot back.

"Because I'm the older one here," Secondo replied with a smirk.

"Three months is not old enough to think you can tell me what to do, cretino," Terzo retorted, a playful glint in his eye.

Just then, a voice resonated from the hallway before a man entered the room. "Can't we learn how to behave?" he quipped.

You turned your face toward the voice behind you, your gaze falling upon a man with an ancient appearance as he entered the room. You observed Copia's reaction, noticing him shaking his head slightly before turning his attention to the newcomer.

"Copia," the man said, his eyes fixed on him. "Mio fratello, sei davvero venuto."

"Primo," Copia said, his smile widening as he let go of your hand and walked towards the man. "I can't believe you three are alive."

"I must admit we didn't believe Terzo when he said you were alive," Primo replied.

Secondo couldn't help but let out a chuckle, his grin unwavering as he crossed his arms and glanced at Terzo. Terzo, in turn, shot Secondo a threatening look.

Terzo's threatening expression toward Secondo softened into a grin as he turned to face Primo. "Well, it seems my word isn't taken seriously around here," Terzo quipped, his tone filled with playful reproach.

"It never was," Secondo said, his tone filled with nonchalance as he turned his back to Terzo and strolled back toward the woman on the floor.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from him as he roughly grabbed the woman's wrist and dragged her toward another room, the sight of it leaving you with a racing heart. The reality of being in the presence of four vampires, even if one of them was Copia, began to sink in, and a shiver of fear ran down your spine. The reassurance of Copia's presence did little to alleviate the unease you felt in this moment.

As you turned your face away, you suddenly found the old man who had just entered the room standing right in front of you, his gaze locked onto you. Startled, you instinctively took a step back, but you quickly bumped into Terzo's body behind you. You felt his firm grip on your arms, keeping you in place as he stood protectively between you and the mysterious newcomer. The atmosphere in the room grew even more charged with tension, and you couldn't help but wonder about the intentions of the brothers surrounding you.

"You don't need to be scared," Primo said softly as he extended his hand to gently cup your chin, his touch surprisingly gentle given the circumstances. "We won't cause you any harm," he reassured, his eyes meeting yours.

Although his words provided some comfort, your nerves still ran high, especially when Terzo's face drew closer to your neck. You could feel his breath against your skin, and his hand on your shoulders caressed you tenderly.

"As I can see the mark is still here," Terzo's warm breath tickled your ear.

Your gaze shot toward Copia, whose expression had shifted to annoyance and anger. In an instant, Copia swiftly made his way to your side, taking your arm in his hand and pulling you close to him. He wrapped his arms around you in a possessive and protective manner, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

"Basta!" Copia's voice rang out in a furious tone.

"As I can see, Terzo was right for the first time," Secondo commented casually as he passed by you and Copia.

Copia took a step back but kept you in his arms as he looked at his brothers. "What do you mean, Secondo?"

Secondo chuckled and shrugged. "That you are in love."

Time seemed to stand still as you froze in Copia's arms, your heart pounding in your chest. The word "love" echoed in your mind, and you felt a mix of emotions surge within you. Copia was in love with you? But, more importantly, were you in love with Copia? You turned your face upward to look at him, trying to find the words to express your thoughts, but your voice failed you in the face of this unexpected revelation.

"Don't worry," Terzo reassured, his voice firm. "We have no interest in her."

Copia turned his face downward to meet your gaze, his eyes locking with yours. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he began, "My feelings toward anyone here are up for discussion. I came here because I want some answers."

"Answers?" Primo inquired, his expression growing more serious. "Terzo, cosa hai fatto?"

Copia met Primo's gaze squarely. "He told me about what you three did to me," he replied with unwavering determination.

A heavy silence hung in the air as the three brothers exchanged glances. Copia, in the midst of his emotions, released you from his protective embrace and adjusted his gloves on his hands. Primo took a step forward.

"Secondo, could you take her to another room?" Primo requested.

Your heart quickened at the suggestion, and you turned to Secondo with a sense of unease. "Why?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly. "Why do I have to go to another room? I don't want to."

Your fear and discomfort were evident, and you were reluctant to leave Copia's side, especially after witnessing Secondo's unsettling actions earlier. You couldn't shake the feeling that your safety was in jeopardy if you were separated from him.

Secondo suddenly walked over to you, his grip on your arm causing you to stumble slightly. Fear flashed across your face as you looked at him, but his wide grin sent shivers down your spine. His other hand found its way to your lower back, steadying you.

"Fai attenzione, piccola angela," Secondo whispered in a husky tone, his words sending a chill through you.

"Secondo," Copia called out in a serious tone. "Lasciala andare."

"Primo said to take her to another room, fratello," Secondo replied defiantly.

"Non lo dirò di nuovo," Copia warned, his patience wearing thin.

Reluctantly, Secondo removed his hands from you, and you swiftly moved back to Copia, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. The tension in the room remained palpable, but for now, you found refuge in Copia's protective embrace.

"Whatever you three have to tell me, she will stay here," Copia declared firmly, his hands resting on your waist as he pulled you closer. "No one will take her to another room, capito?"

"Qualsiasi cosa tu voglia, fratello," Secondo conceded, raising his hands in a placating manner.

"Copia, I didn't suggest it as a bad thing," Primo interjected, his tone more conciliatory. "I just thought it might be better for your lover not to hear about it."

"Why?" Copia turned his head in Terzo's direction. "Is there something more that I should know? More than the fact that you three practically got rid of me?"

"Copia, you..." Terzo began, but Primo raised his hand to silence him.

"Me? What about me?" Copia released your waist, pulling you behind him protectively.

"You died," Secondo stated bluntly.

The gravity of Secondo's words still hung heavily in the air, the revelation echoing through the room and leaving you stunned by the weight of it. But suddenly, you heard Copia starting to laugh, his laughter ringing out loudly and confusingly in the tense atmosphere. You looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Died?" Copia asked through his laughter. "I died? What are you saying, fratello?" His amusement seemed entirely at odds with the serious revelation.

Primo let out a weary sigh, and Copia took a determined step forward, closing the distance to Secondo. Terzo acted swiftly, moving to your side and pulling you away from the brewing confrontation. You watched from a safe distance as Primo positioned himself between Copia and Secondo.

Copia's eyes widened with rage, and he demanded in a voice that brooked no argument, "Explain yourself right now."

Primo reached out, holding Copia back and preventing the situation from escalating further. "Copia, per favore, listen to what we have to say."

"What more do you all have to tell me?" Copia demanded, his gaze now fixed on Primo. "For years, I thought you three were dead, that those people killed you. Then, I discover that Terzo was alive, and he tells me about what truly happened that day, that the two of you were also alive just like him. Then, he tells me I had a past lover, a woman that I can't even remember, and then, she is the one who died. And to top it all off, I discover that you three decided to get rid of me," Copia's voice quivered with a mix of rage and sadness. "And now," he choked back tears. "Now, I discover that I died. No one is giving me straight answers here; I have no idea what is happening."

Secondo reached for Primo's shoulders and gently moved him aside, creating a space between Primo and Copia. He then approached Copia, his hand finding Copia's shoulders, and he pulled him into a tight embrace. Copia responded by wrapping his arms around Secondo, tears flowing down his face as he held onto his brother.

You averted your gaze from the them, feeling somewhat like an outsider in the midst of their complex family dynamics. Terzo released his arms from around you, and you took a moment to adjust your clothes. As you watched, Terzo walked over to where Copia, Secondo, and Primo were standing. He reached for Primo's shirt, pulling him closer to Copia and Secondo, and the three of them embraced Copia simultaneously.

"Fratello," Secondo began in a murmur, his voice filled with remorse. "It's me who you have to forgive here, especially me."

The three brothers slowly released Copia from their embrace, giving him space to process their revelation. You remained where Terzo had positioned you, maintaining a respectful distance as you observed the unfolding conversation.

"Because it was me who killed you," Secondo confessed, his words hanging heavily in the air.

Copia's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. He looked around at Terzo and Primo, seeking confirmation from their solemn expressions. "What happened that day, Secondo?" Copia's voice trembled with emotion. "What truly happened? I just need to know what happened."

"On that day, Eleanora came to the church looking for you right after you left," Secondo began, his voice carrying the somber memories. "I happened to be wandering nearby when I saw her entering the church. I approached her and informed her that you had just left. She asked me if she could stay there, as she was adamant about meeting you before the mass. It was a day of mass, so she could remain there without disrupting anything," he continued, his hands clasped together in remorse. "So, we all left the church that day, and she stayed there waiting for you."

"And what did she want?" Copia asked, his voice filled with anxiety. "Did she tell you why she was there?"

Secondo shook his head in the negative, signaling that Eleonora's intentions that day had remained a mystery. Copia let out a heavy sigh, his hands coming up to cover his face as he took a deep, contemplative breath.

A heavy silence hung in the room as Secondo continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "After that, I don't know what happened. Terzo suddenly came to us, saying that the church was in flames and that the villagers were filled with anger. He insisted that we needed to get out of there, but we couldn't leave you behind. We went back to find you, and all we saw was you holding her in your arms. We watched helplessly, unable to do anything."

"Ci dispiace profondamente, Copia," Primo said, his voice filled with remorse as he rested a hand on Copia's shoulder. "There was nothing we could do. There was no way to save her, and you knew it. That was the moment you started with the killing."

"And that was the moment I had to stop you," Secondo explained solemnly. "That was the moment I came and... stopped you."

"You stopped me by killing me? That was your solution?" Copia's voice quivered with a mix of anger and sadness.

"Fratello, you know that I could never kill you for real," Secondo replied, his voice heavy with regret. "It was more like a... It was as if I had knocked you out. And then, as you fell into my arms. After that we had to decide what to do with you, and that was the moment me and Primo decided to send you away."

Copia's questions continued, his voice filled with a desperate need for answers. "And why? Why did you three do this to me? Why didn't you three come with me? Why leave me alone all this time?"

"We had no choice, Copia," Terzo said, his own voice tinged with sorrow. "I... We didn't want to do it, but Italy was not a safe place for us four, and we knew that the best option was to send you away."

"Because you three thought I was dead, so it was just better to get rid of me," Copia lamented.

"We didn't know if I really killed you or not, Copia," Secondo admitted. "We knew you might probably be alive, but we weren't sure. And because of it, we couldn't just leave your body there, so we put you on this boat, hoping it would sail away because in case you woke up, you would be safe in somewhere else."

"So the reason my memories are like that, confused, is because you decided that killing me was the best idea?" Copia's voice trembled with a mix of anger and hurt.

"I didn't kill you!" Secondo exclaimed desperately. "I didn't even want to kill you. It's just that when you fell into my arms, I realized what I had done, or what I thought I had done, because now you are right here in front of me! In front of us!"

Copia's emotions continued to pour out as he expressed the pain he had carried for centuries. "For years, I thought you three were dead. I felt lonely, scared, and sad. I didn't have a family; I didn't have a home. I was a stranger among strange people, left alone by the three of you. You never thought about looking for me before, and I wouldn't have known you three were alive if it weren't for Terzo."

"Copia, we didn't plan for things to be like that for you," Primo declared earnestly. "We didn't send you away because we thought you were dead. It was because of the possibility that you could come back to life that we did it. We wanted you to have a new life, a new home in a new place. Far from the accident, far from the pain."

Copia's frustration and anger were evident in his response. "And you three decided it for me? It should have been me deciding my life, but you three took it from me. You three decided it for me!"

Terzo stepped forward, his voice carrying a sense of regret. "Copia, we know it might not have been the right decision, and we understand your anger. But we did it out of love, out of the desire to protect you and keep you safe. We couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

Copia looked at his brothers, his emotions still raw and turbulent. "You may have done it out of love, but you robbed me of my choice, my identity. I lost everything that day."

"Fratello, per favore, forgive us," Secondo pleaded. "Forgive me."

"Copia, we didn't intend to abandon you," Terzo said. "Secondo wasn't certain if you had truly perished or not; we were uncertain. We suspected you might still be alive, yet we couldn't be certain. We simply wished for your safety."

Copia's emotional outpouring overwhelmed him, and he fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face as his hands covered his eyes. The depth of his sorrow was palpable, and you couldn't bear to see him in such pain. You hurriedly walked over to Copia and knelt down in front of him, wrapping your arms around him in a reassuring embrace. One of your hands gently cradled his head, allowing him to bury his face in your shoulder as he held onto you tightly.

"I'm here, it's okay," you whispered softly, your voice filled with tenderness and comfort. "I'm here, Copia. I'm here with you now."

"Fratello-" Terzo began to speak, but you shot him an angry glare over your shoulder, interrupting him with your stern expression. "I think we should leave them alone for now," Terzo stated firmly.

You turned your attention back to Copia, pressing a gentle kiss on his head as you felt his tears soak through your shirt. His attempts to speak were choked by his own emotions.

"It's okay," you whispered softly, your voice filled with empathy and patience. "We don't need to say anything now. Take your time, Copia."

Copia clung to you, his tears slowly subsiding as he held onto your comforting presence. The room was filled with the echoes of his pain, and you remained there, holding him close, providing a safe space for him to release the emotions he had kept buried for far too long.

After a while, Copia's grip on your shirt began to loosen, and he pulled back slightly, his tear-stained face looking into your eyes with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. His voice was soft and filled with sincerity as he finally found the words to speak.

"Grazie," Copia whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "Grazie for being here, for not leaving me alone."

You smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

"Cara mia..." Copia began, his gaze locked with yours. "Ti amo così tanto, amore."

You furrowed your brow, gazing at him with curiosity. "What did you say?" you asked, not quite comprehending his words.

"He said he loves you," Primo said as he made his way inside of the room.

You widened your eyes and Copia's sudden change in demeanor caught your attention, and you followed his gaze as he turned to look at Primo, who was standing near the door where he had exited only a few minutes ago. Copia rose to his feet, gently bringing you up with him, and pulled you close against him in a protective embrace. Your eyes darted between Copia and Primo.

"I asked Secondo and Terzo to wait outside, but I had to come back to talk to you, fratello," Primo explained.

Copia took a step back, still holding you close, as Primo spoke. "What more do you want to tell me?" Copia asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Vieni con me, fratello," Primo said, motioning toward another door in the room.

Copia released you from his embrace and took your hand, following Primo's lead with you in tow. As you walked, your thoughts were in a whirlwind. Copia had just confessed his love for you, and you hadn't had the chance to respond, to tell him about your own feelings for him. The weight of unspoken emotions hung in the air.

Feeling a surge of warmth and affection, you tightened your grip on Copia's hand, prompting him to look at you. With a sincere smile, you conveyed your feelings without words, letting your eyes speak volumes. Copia's gaze met yours, and he couldn't help but return your smile with one of his own as he continued to walk alongside Primo, with you by his side.

Primo stopped in front of a door, opening it to reveal a bedroom. He entered first, holding the door open for both you and Copia to follow him inside. Primo watched as you both entered the room and then walked over to a nightstand, opening a drawer.

"When we sent you away," Primo began, "we kept some things you had. I know you think that we didn't care about you, but we did. We kept your things for years so we could still have memories of you."

Primo retrieved a box from inside the drawer and returned to where you and Copia stood. Copia released your hand and reached for the box, his curiosity piqued. He exchanged a glance with you before looking back at Primo, who nodded, signaling for him to open the box.

Copia carefully opened the box, revealing its contents. Inside, he found a collection of items that seemed to hold a piece of his forgotten past. Tears welled up in Copia's eyes as he picked up a small, weathered journal. He leafed through the pages filled with his own handwriting.

"This is your history, fratello," Primo said softly, his gaze filled with empathy. "We never wanted to erase your past. We wanted to protect you from the pain. Secondo thought he killed you that day, but, I knew you weren't dead. I kept these so that someday, when the time was right, you could reclaim what was lost if we found you again."

"Grazie," Copia's voice was choked with emotion as he looked up at Primo.

As Copia continued to leaf through the pages of the journal, a small piece of paper slipped from its confines and fell to the floor. You bent down to retrieve it and handed it to him. Copia took the paper from your hand, his curiosity piqued. He unfolded it slowly, his expression shifting from curiosity to something more profound.

In that moment, Copia let the box and the journal fall to the floor, his attention fully captured by the contents of the paper. His eyes moved, scanning the paper. Copia's gaze locked onto yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions that were difficult to put into words. His lips parted as if he were about to speak, but he remained silent, as though struggling to find the right words. You reached for Copia's face, cupping his cheek delicately, concern etched across your features as you sensed his bewilderment.

Copia showed you the paper with a drawing, your eyes widened in shock and surprise. In that instant, an inexplicable shiver cascaded down your spine. The drawing depicted a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to you. It was as if you were looking at a portrait of yourself, and the resemblance was so striking that it left you speechless.

"What is this?" you asked in disbelief, your gaze shifting from the drawing to Primo, who was approaching you both.

Primo examined the drawing in Copia's hands and then turned his gaze to you, his expression one of shock and realization. Without a word, he quickly left the room, leaving you and Copia alone in the bedroom.

Copia took a step closer to you, his eyes fixed on the drawing. "She... is you," he said softly. "But how... how can it be you?"

You were at a loss for words, unable to explain the inexplicable connection between you and the woman in the drawing. The mystery deepened, and the questions that lingered in the air remained unanswered, leaving both you and Copia with a sense of bewilderment and intrigue.

Your mind raced with questions, and you stammered, "I... I don't know, Copia. I have no idea."

"It's as if... as if I knew you," Copia whispered, his voice filled with awe and disbelief. "And I found you."

Copia's hands shifted from your waist, pulling you closer into a warm embrace, and his eyes welled up with tears, mingling with his contented smile. Your hands continued to tenderly stroke his shoulders, offering reassurance. His arms enveloped you tightly, and he rested his head gently on your shoulder.

Your hand gently found its way into Copia's hair, fingers entwining with the strands. Inhaling deeply, you held him close with your arms wrapped firmly around him. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled in your mind concerning your connection to him and the mysterious woman. Was it simply an uncanny coincidence? A drawing from years past seemed hardly conclusive evidence. You began to question the potential link between you and the woman from Copia's drawing. Nevertheless, he had drawn nearer to you, and everything with him always seemed so intense.

"Co-" you were abruptly interrupted as the three brothers entered the room, each of them wearing expressions of shock and apprehension.

"Is it really true?" Terzo was the first to speak. "Are you really her?"

"Her?" you echoed, puzzled.

"Eleanora," Secondo clarified.

Copia loosened his embrace slightly, allowing you to turn and face the three brothers who stood before you, their eyes filled with anticipation and uncertainty. You could sense the weight of their unspoken questions in the air.

You took a moment to collect your thoughts before responding. "I... I don't know," you admitted, your voice trembling with uncertainty. "I can't say for certain if I'm her or not. It's just a drawing, and resemblance alone doesn't prove anything."

Copia gently grasped your chin, turning your face toward him. "I know you're not her," he began, his voice a tender murmur. "I know she's gone, and I understand that. Please don't think I'm trying to replace her with you."

You met his gaze and replied, "I... I don't think you are."

But Terzo's question lingered in the air, casting a shadow of uncertainty. "But is she Eleanora or not?" he pressed.

Copia's response, however, was resolute and filled with emotion. "I don't care," he declared. "She can be her or not, I don't care."

You turned to face Copia, your eyes seeking an explanation for his unexpected reaction.

"I love you," he said with unwavering sincerity, his eyes reflecting deep emotion. "I don't care if you are a past lover of mine, I don't care if you are Eleanora. The only thing I care about is that I found you and you found me. Whether you are her or not, it doesn't matter because I fell in love with you long before I ever saw that drawing."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you whispered, "I... I love you too..."

Copia held your head gently, drawing his face close to yours, and captured your lips in a passionate kiss. You closed your eyes and clutched his shoulders tightly, savoring the intensity of the moment. His other hand caressed your lower back, and you willingly surrendered to the sensations coursing through you.

A sudden cough from one of the brothers interrupted your passionate moment, causing you and Copia to break the kiss abruptly. You turned your face towards the brothers, feeling your cheeks flush a deep shade of red. With a somewhat embarrassed smile, you gently pulled away from Copia, taking a moment to discreetly adjust your disheveled clothes, his hands still resting on your waist.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, your embarrassment evident in your tone and flushed cheeks.

Primo got closer to you and reached out and gently squeezed your hand to reassure you. "No need to apologize," he said with a soft smile.

As Secondo reached for your other hand and pressed a kiss on the back of it, you turned your face toward him, a hint of fear in your gaze. The tallest of the brothers had an imposing presence, and something about what you had observed upon entering the room had unsettled you.

Secondo noticed the unease in your eyes and quickly withdrew his hand, his demeanor softening. "I apologize if I startled you," he said with a more reassuring smile. "I can be a bit... intense sometimes, sì?"

"It's okay, I... I'm fine," you reassured them with a gentle smile.

Terzo grinned mischievously. "Good to know you're not afraid of us, especially after our little 'accident' together."

You responded with a serious tone, setting the record straight, "We didn't have any 'accident' together. It was just you thinking you could take advantage of me."

Secondo chuckled, giving Terzo an amused look. He released your hand and placed it on Terzo's shoulder, teasing, "It's the first time I've seen you fail in your prey, fratello."

"Shut up, cretino," Terzo retorted, brushing Secondo's hand off his shoulder with a playful scowl.

"Just one thing isn't quite clear," you began.

"What's on your mind, bella?" Primo inquired.

"Why are we here? I mean, this is the same place where the ball was held last week. What brings the three of you here? Also I didn't think this was a real house with bedrooms and everything."

"Oh, piccola," Terzo chimed in with a laugh. "That ball was ours."

"What!?"

"You see, it's our property, the three of us," Terzo explained further. "We occasionally need new places to reside, and we own properties around the world. This happens to be one of them. And what better opportunity to meet some... sustenance."

"For some reason, this modern age enjoys events like those," Primo added. "So we often host them to invite people into our homes, and then, well, we indulge."

"So I could have become dinner..." you remarked, a hint of playful unease in your voice.

"And what a delicious meal you would have been," Secondo replied with a mischievous grin, his words laced with dark humor.

Copia, who had been quietly observing the conversation, couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at Secondo's flirtatious remark. His grip around your waist tightened, and a possessive look flashed in his eyes.

"Secondo," Copia said, his tone tinged with a hint of jealousy, "Let's not make her uncomfortable with such talk."

Secondo chuckled lightly. "She's already aware of who we are; I don't think she's that uncomfortable with the vampire talk anymore."

Copia clarified with a meaningful look, "I'm not talking about the vampire talk, fratello."

Secondo's eyes widened in understanding, and he let out a knowing chuckle. "Ah, capisco cosa intendi ora," he said with a sly grin. "You're worried about me stealing your donna away?"

Copia's jealousy was palpable, but he attempted to maintain a composed facade. "Io apprezzo la tua autostima, Secondo."

Terzo's laughter erupted loudly, filling the room, and he playfully slapped Secondo's shoulder. Secondo, clearly irritated by his brother's antics, turned his face towards Terzo, his brows furrowing in annoyance. Copia couldn't suppress a knowing smirk, while Primo simply sighed, shaking his head in a resigned manner.

"We should leave the two of them alone now," Primo suggested, placing his hand on both Terzo and Secondo's shoulders.

"Does that mean we can go back to my home?" you inquired.

"No," Primo insisted, "I insist that both of you stay here, bella. It's been years since we've had the chance to see our fratello, so we'd like you to be our guests, and Copia, you should stay as well."

You nodded in understanding. "Ah, I see. That's... fine, I suppose."

"Perfetto!" Primo exclaimed with enthusiasm. "You two can have this room for the night."

You nodded with a gentle smile, your eyes following the three brothers as they turned their backs and began walking toward the door, signaling their departure. However, just as they were about to exit, Secondo abruptly stopped and turned back, fixing his gaze on Copia.

"Fratello," Secondo called out to him. "Do you forgive us?"

Copia sighed deeply, his emotions a tumultuous whirlwind. "I wish I could stay angry with you three, but I'm overjoyed to see you all alive. I admit that I need more time to process everything, but for now, my heart is filled with happiness knowing that I still have my family."

"We are relieved to know you are still among us," Primo said.

"I'm relieved to be around you three again," Copia remarked.

"I have just one more question, Copia," Secondo began.

"What is it, Secondo?" Copia inquired.

"A human? Again?" Secondo teased, crossing his arms with a knowing smile.

Copia nodded solemnly, not uttering a word.

"You know the consequences of it, sì?" Secondo continued, a hint of warning in his voice.

"What consequences?" you asked concerned.

"Bene," Secondo began, "first, you will not live forever. You are not eternal like us, even though we age very slowly. You are not like us. Also, he will always be fighting against the desire to taste your blood..."

Copia's gaze never wavered from Secondo. "Va bene," he assured. "It's worth it. This time, I'm going to do everything right."

"Questo non è il nostro problema, Secondo," Primo interjected, placing his hand on Secondo's shoulder and turning him away from you and Copia.

The three brothers exited the bedroom, with Terzo closing the door behind him, leaving you and Copia in a moment of intimate solitude. The silence that followed was charged with a palpable energy, the unspoken understanding of the weighty matters that had been alluded to.

Copia's hand cupped your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as you turned to him with a warm smile. "So you love me, eh?" Copia teased, his voice filled with affection.

You couldn't help but giggle in response. "Oh! Are you going to tease me about it now?"

Copia's expression softened as he pressed a gentle peck on your lips. "No, amore, I just didn't expect you would say it back," he admitted softly. "I thought... You didn't feel it the way I did."

"I thought you didn't feel this way about me..." you confessed, your voice carrying a note of relief as you saw Copia's gentle smile in response.

Copia leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss, but before the moment could fully unfold, a knock on the door interrupted your connection. Copia let out a frustrated hum and reluctantly took a step away from you, making his way toward the door. Copia reached the door and opened it to reveal Primo, who had returned, wearing a more serious expression than before.

"Perdona l'interruzione," Primo began, his tone shifting from urgency to a more casual one. "I came to ask if you would like to join us for a meal, fratello."

"A meal?" you asked innocently.

"Fratello, I think that now is not the best time for it," Copia responded, a sense of reluctance in his voice, withdrawing his hands from your face.

"Are you sure?" Primo pressed, a hint of concern in his tone.

"Sì, sì," Copia affirmed, his tone firm.

"Bene," Primo nodded. "I'll let you two rest for now."

As Primo left, you exchanged smiles. Once the door was closed, you turned your attention to Copia, who began removing his gloves. He moved gracefully towards the bed, leaving the gloves resting on the mattress.

You moved to the bed, sitting on its edge, your body turned towards Copia as you fixed your gaze upon him. "Copia, are you sure you don't need to eat?" you inquired, your concern evident.

"I'm pretty sure, cara," he assured you, turning his body towards you.

"It's okay for me if you do need to eat, I wouldn't mind at all," you said with sincerity.

"Cara, trust me, I'm fine," Copia reiterated, his tone gentle yet resolute.

"Okay then..." you replied, a hint of anticipation in your voice. "Well, I guess we will spend our evening here, then?"

"Sì, probably. Is it okay with you?" Copia asked.

"Yes, a house with vampires doesn't bother me anymore," you responded, your tone light.

"Oh, are you not afraid of the vampires anymore?" Copia teased, taking a step closer to you.

"If they all look like you, I'm not afraid of any of them," you retorted, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you bit your lower lip.

"Are you saying I'm not intimidating enough?" Copia teased back, running his hands through your thighs, taking his place between them.

You shook your head, watching him approach you slowly. "I don't think you are intimidating, not at all."

Copia closed the distance between you two, his hands firmly gripping your hips as he pulled you to him in a swift and powerful motion, causing your body to collide against his.

"So you're not afraid of what I could do to you?" he murmured, his voice low and suggestive.

"Should I be afraid of what you could do to me?" you responded, your own voice equally suggestive, as the tension between you both grew palpable.

"Perhaps you should, considering I am a vampire," he replied.

"Oh, and are you a formidable vampire, Copia?" you inquired, your hands gliding across your chest.

Copia's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as he moved closer, closing the distance between your faces.

"Cara mia," he purred, "I can be as dangerous as you think I can be," his voice took on a deeper, seductive tone.

You could feel the heat rising between you, your bodies nearly touching, and the room seemed to pulse with a magnetic energy that neither of you could resist. Copia's fingers traced a slow, teasing path along your thigh, sending shivers down your spine.

"Tell me," he continued in a sultry whisper, "how dangerous do you want me to be, cara?"

Your breath caught in your throat as desire coursed through your veins. Your hands moved to rest on his shoulders, and you leaned in, your lips dangerously close to his ear.

"As dangerous as you can be," you murmured, your voice dripping with desire.

"And how much enticing do you want me to be, cara?" he whispered, his voice husky.

You smiled wickedly, biting your lower lip. "As much as you want to be," you responded.

Copia's eyes widened slightly as you spoke, inhaling sharply, his hands moving up to grasp your waist, pulling you into his embrace. His lips met yours in a passionate kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, dancing with your, exploring every inch of it. The kiss was fiery and intense, he moaned softly and you pressed your body against his, grinding yourself against him. His hand slid down, cupping your ass, pulling you tighter against him.

You broke the kiss, breathing heavily as your fingers deftly unbuttoned his jacket. "I want you Copia, I really want you," you said, gasping for air.

"Do you, cara?" he asked, his voice low and dark.

"More than anything," you replied, your body trembling with desire.

"I really want you too," he murmured.

You blushed, your heart pounding in your chest. Your eyes were shining with desire as you gently reclined on the bed, watching him removing his jacket. Copia crawled on top of you, moving slowly, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

"Wait," you said resting your hands on his shoulders. "What about your brothers?" you asked, concern evident in your voice.

"They are not here, cara," he replied, his voice low and husky. "So we don't have to worry about them. They are very busy, so is just you and me now."

You bit your lower lip, your hand slipping down to cup his crotch. "So let's make ourselves very busy now."

Copia's eyes darkened as you squeezed his hardness. "So eager, cara," he remarked with a chuckle.

He bent forward and kissed you softly, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. His tongue flicked out and teased with the tip of it. You parted your lips allowing his tongue to slide inside your mouth, moaning softly, pressing your body against him. His hands slid up and down your body, until he slid his fingers under your pants. You gasped as they found your wetness.

You were already soaked, and he knew exactly where to touch you now. He stroke you through your panties, and you could feel your juices flowing freely. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers stoked through your flesh, dipping into your heat, and pressing into your clit. Your legs shook, and you pushed against him, grinding yourself against his hand.

His lips left yours and traveled slowly down your neck, licking and sucking gently. He nipped at your neck, then sucked your earlobe between his sharp teeth.

"Oh... Copia," you whispered in a gasp. "Yes..."

"Yes? What is 'yes,' cara?" he asked, drawing closer to your ear.

"Yes, fuck me."

Copia felt a shiver racing down his spine at your words. He let out a low growl and moved his head to meet your gaze. His eyes sparkled with desire and lust as they bore into yours. He pulled away from you, and you whimpered, disappointed.

"Say it again," he urged.

"Fuck me, Copia," you said, leaning in, brushing your lips on his. "I can't wait any longer. Fuck me right here, right now."

"Amore," he said, his voice thick with desire. "I want to see every inch of you, per favore."

You nodded, and Copia smoothly moved from atop you to the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. You then stood in front of him, anticipation coursing through your veins, quickly shedding your clothes. He watched you, his eyes devouring you. You could feel his gaze burning through you, and you trembled at the thought of how much he wanted you. It wasn't impossible to not feel like a goddess standing before him, and you love it. You approached the bed, and he gently grasped your hand. You climbed onto the bed, kneeling in front of him.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my entire..." he paused, his voice filled with a dark and mysterious allure. "Very long existence," with a slow, deliberate grace, he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from your neck. "You make my centuries of existence worth every moment," he whispered, his breath cool against your skin.

Your heart raced as his words sent shivers down your spine. "You made the years of my existence worth every moment," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

He chuckled softly, his fangs glistening in the dim light. "I've seen countless wonders in my time, but none compare to you."

With a newfound sense of desire and urgency, your hands moved to his chest, gently but firmly guiding him back towards the headboard of the bed. Your fingers danced along the buttons of his shirt, deftly undoing them one by one, revealing the contours of his body beneath. His shirt hung open on his body, your eyes roamed over his bare chest, taking in every sinuous line and the cool, smooth skin that seemed to beckon your touch. You couldn't help but bite your lower lip in anticipation.

You lowered yourself, gently placing kisses on his chest. His hand found its way to your head, fingers entwining in your hair. Your eyes closed as you lavished each inch of his chest with kisses. Continuing downward, your lips trailed to his stomach, leaving a trail of moist kisses in their wake. Your hands, meanwhile, explored his thighs with gentle caresses.

"Cara mia," he moaned softly.

"Hush," you whispered, placing a finger to his lips. "Allow me to compensate you for this morning, Copia."

He chuckled softly, and you continued your descent, placing a tender kiss along his happy trail, moving down to his bulge, where a gentle kiss left him whimpering in delight. You unzipped his pants, reaching inside. You wrapped your hand around his hardness and squeezed it gently, feeling it pulse in your hand. You looked at him, pulling his member out of his pants. His hardness sprang free and you gasped at its size.

"Mmm, amore," he purred. "It's been so long since someone touched me like this."

"Don't worry, Copia. We'll ensure the wait is well rewarded," you murmured, a sly grin playing on your lips.

You wrapped your lips around the tip, tasting him. He groaned, his eyes closing. You smiled at him, then wrapped your lips on the tip again, running the tongue over it. His hand tightened in your hair, and you moaned around him. You heard him groaning again, and you slipped his member deeper into your mouth. You bobbed up and down, sucking him hard. You crossed your legs and gently rubbed them together.

"Merda! Cara, per favore, have mercy of me," he growled. "Cazzo, amore, this is..." he was cut off by his own passionate moan.

You felt his body tense and head him grunting as he held you close. You increased your pace, bobbing your head up and down on his shaft, sucking hard. He tasted so good, and you moaned around him once again. He cried out, thrusting his hips upward. You continued to suck, but slowed your movements, going with your hand to hold his member, stroking it. His breathing became ragged, and you locked your gaze with his.

"Amore, if you continue like this... I... I won't be able... to control myself," he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

You ignored his warn and continued to suck him, your hand stroking his length. You felt his member swell in your mouth, and you quickened your pace. He cried out, and you removed your mouth seeing his body shaking and his load shooting. He shuddered, finally opening his eyes, grinning at you. You lowered your head licking him clean, and then, pulled back, licking your lips.

"Mi... Mi dispiace... I didn't intend for it to happen so quickly," he gasped.

You chuckled softly, gently holding his face in your hands. "Don't worry, Copia. I'm happy it happened quickly; it means it was great, didn't it?"

"It was amazing, amore mio," he replied with a wicked smile. "Now come here."

He pushed you back and held your hips, guiding you onto your back. You spread your legs wide, eager for him. He moved between them, and you sighed as you felt his length sliding between your folds. He pressed himself into you, and you moaned. As you gazed into his eyes, recognizing the uncertainty in his eyes, you nodded and then looked down, watching him slide into you. You whimpered as he filled you completely, stretching you. He leaned over you, his hands on either side of your head.

"Cazzo, you're so tight," he said, his voice rough. "So hot."

He leaned in kissing you deeply, his tongue plunging into your mouth. He began moving slowly, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He broke the kiss and looked into your eyes, his face contorted with pleasure.

"Are you ready?" he whispered.

You nodded and he began to move inside of you, slow and easy. You closed your eyes feeling him moving within you. You sighed happily as you felt yourself melting beneath him. You opened your eyes and watched him, reveling in the sight of him taking you. Your hands instinctively moved to his face, cradling it gently.

"Ah... Copia," you sighed. That feels so good, you feel so good, you can go... faster if you want."

"Merda, amore, you take my cock so well, you're so hot and wet," he groaned. "You feel so good, cazzo, you are amazing!"

Copia picked up speed, pounding into you. You arched your back and moaned. You reached up and grabbed his hips, pulling him into you harder. He growled and moved faster, his strokes becoming harder, slamming his hips against yours.

"Yes, yes, yes! Like th... Copi-Ah! Ah! Please, don't stop, fuck me," you moaned biting your lower lip.

He leaned down and kissed you, his tongue darting into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him down to kiss you harder. You moaned on his lips and he broke the kiss. He gazed down at you, but his demeanor had shifted noticeably. His eyes appeared darker, his lips slightly parted, as if he were in some kind of trance. His movements continued, but his hungry gaze focused solely on you, prompting you to furrow your brows with concern.

"C-Copia? What's wrong?" you asked, your worry evident.

Copia remained unresponsive, his thrust growing more intense. The intoxicating sensation was undeniable, but the apprehension about his expression gnawed at you. You gently released your arms from around his neck and reached for his face, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his lips.

"Copia," you whispered softly. "What's happening?"

Suddenly, he stopped moving, and the intensity in his expression melted away. He shook his head and straightened up, withdrawing from you. He sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard panting heavily. You sat on the bed in front of him, tilting your head to the side as you regarded him with deep concern etched across your face.

"Copia..." you called out to him, your voice filled with concern.

"Your heat is overwhelming," he admitted, his breath ragged. "It's driving me wild, making me crave you more and more, and it's making me yearn to taste you."

"Then bite me," you implored, resting a hand on his thigh.

"No, cara, I can't bear to hurt you," he protested.

"Copia, you won't hurt me," you assured him. "You would never hurt me. Please, I can't stand to see you like this. If you want to bite me, just do it."

"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

"I am," you replied firmly. "Please, don't torture yourself any longer."

As Copia hesitated, his dark eyes locked onto yours, searching for any sign of doubt or fear. He leaned in closer, his lips grazing your neck as he whispered, "I promise, amore, I'll be gentle."

With those words, he bared his fangs and slowly sank them into your neck. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as a mixture of pleasure and pain coursed through your body. Copia's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he drank from you, his movements careful and controlled. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Copia's instincts kicked in, and he drank just enough to satisfy his hunger without causing you any harm. As he continued, your world began to blur. Copia gently withdrew his fangs from your neck, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss on the puncture wounds.

"You're as sweet as your appearance," he whispered, his words barely audible. "Did I cause you any pain?"

He held you close, his cool skin pressing against yours, and the rhythm of his undead heart throbbed against your chest. Your hand found its way to his hair, your fingers gently caressing his scalp.

"Just a slight discomfort, but it's alright. It wasn't too painful," you whispered in response.

Copia's eyes softened as he continued to hold you close, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your back. "Mi dispiace for any pain, amore," he murmured, his voice filled with remorse. "I tried to be as gentle as I could."

You leaned in and placed a tender kiss on his lips, reassuring him. "It's alright, Copia. I knew what I was getting into, and I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant helping you."

His grateful smile persisted, and he withdrew his fangs completely. Gently, he lowered you onto the bed, his body hovering above yours. "Did I ruin the mood?" he whispered, his voice filled with desire.

You shook your head with a soft chuckle. "Not at all, Copia, not even a little."

His longing eyes met yours, and he confessed, "I want to continue, but I'm afraid I'll get that urge to bite you again."

You ran your fingers through his hair, reassuring him with a passionate gaze. "If you ever feel that way, don't stop, Copia. Just bite me."

With a mischievous grin, Copia leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. He crawled on top of you, straddling your hips. He reached down and guided himself into you once more. Your body arched beneath him. He reached down, and grabbed your ankles, lifting your legs up and spreading them wide. You moaned and arched your hips up, rocking your hips against him. Copia moved slowly, building up speed. You felt him grow harder inside of you, and you tightened around him.

He broke the kiss and growled. With forceful intensity, he thrust into you, increasing the tempo and pressure. His body descended, bringing his face closer to your neck. His teeth nipped at your neck, and you moaned, your nails digging into his back.

"Ah, Copia, it's ok, bite me," you moaned softly. "Bite me, take me as yours in every way."

This time, he didn't stop his movements. Copia grabbed your waist and opened his mouth wider. With a feral hunger, he bit your neck even harder. You could feel his sharp fangs eagerly sinking into your skin, his vampire nature fully unleashed. The sensation sent shivers down your spine as you realized the depth of his desire. His lips brushed against your skin, and you couldn't help but be both captivated and apprehensive.

"Oh! Oh! C-Oh! Copia..." you closed your eyes, as you cried out.

The initial sharp pain gradually transformed into a strange, euphoric pleasure that left you breathless. His lips and tongue worked in tandem, both soothing and electrifying the wound. You could sense the intoxication in his movements, the hunger and the power that coursed through his veins. His grip on your body tightened as he indulged in the life essence that flowed from your throat.

His grip on your waist tightened, and you felt his body tremble with a mixture of pleasure and restraint. He pulled his lips away from your neck, and his gaze met yours. You noticed that his mouth still bore traces of your blood. You extended your hand toward his lips, using your thumb to wipe away the stains. He responded with a smile and planted a gentle kiss on your thumb.

"Merda!" he exclaimed. "You're incredible in every aspect. Your blood is exquisite, your pussy is delicious, your lips are intoxicating, and the way you take my cock feels incredible."

His words sent shivers through your body, causing you to clench around him as a loud moan escaped your lips. You hastily covered your mouth with your hands. Copia couldn't help but chuckle as he withdrew from you, eliciting a sigh from your lips.

"We can make some noise, but let's not get too carried away, sì?" he remarked with a playful tone.

Gripping your waist firmly, he spun you around and positioned you on all fours, his member rubbing against your clit. He slid back into you, and you gasped. He began to move faster, slamming into you. He reached around and rubbed your clit, his other hand grabbing your hips.

"I-I'm sorry," you stammered in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..."

"Don't worry, amore," he reassured you, his grin widening. "Your moans are like music to my ears, but I'd prefer to keep that symphony just for me," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He pumped into you faster, his length hitting deep inside of you, his fingers digging into your hips. He kept increasing his speed and you were about to come. The feeling of him inside you mixed with his fingers on your clit was to much to handle. He rubbed faste, and you screamed, your orgasm ripping through you. You came harder than you ever had before, your walls squeezing around his member.

"Fuck, Copia! A-Ah! I'm coming, I'm coming," you whined.

Copia slowed down his pace as you spammed around all his length. He slammed into you again, coming inside you, filling you up with shots of his loads. "Ah, cazzo, amore, sei così perfetta! You made me cum so good on your pussy," he grunted and you felt his hot seed fill you.

He removed his finger from your clit, bringing it to his mouth, licking it. Painting heavily, he slowly pulled out of you. You could feel his seed dripping out of you and you bit your bottom lip, closing your eyes. You collapsed onto the bed, your breath heavy and your body still tingling from the intensity.

Copia lay beside you, and you snuggled up against him, seeking his comforting presence. A contented sigh escaped your lips as he tenderly kissed your forehead. In the silence that followed, your fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on his chest, their gentle caresses a soothing distraction.

What had just transpired was undoubtedly the most incredible sexual experience of your life, and you felt an undeniable urge to continue, but a sudden weakness had washed over you. Perhaps it was because Copia had consumed your blood, which didn't trouble you in the slightest, but it did raise questions about the future. Would every encounter be like this? Would you always feel this drain afterward?

Secondo's words echoed in your mind once more, reminding you of the stark differences between you and Copia. He was immortal, and you were not. Your relationship with him had an expiration date, a fact you had been trying to push aside. It wasn't the time to dwell on such thoughts, not after experiencing one of the most extraordinary moments of your life, but these intrusive thoughts seemed impossible to escape.

"Amore?" he called for you, a furrow forming on his brow. "Is everything okie dokie?"

"Huh? Me? Yes, I'm okay, Copia," you replied, your fingers nervously tracing patterns on his chest.

"You seem distracted, was it not to your liking?" he inquired, his eyes searching your face for any sign of unease. "Are you feeling sick? weak?"

"No, I mean- Yes, it was incredible, Copia, don't worry," you chuckled softly, your gaze finally meeting his. "I'm fine, I'm not sick, I'm completely fine."

"So what is it?" He took a gentle step closer, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek. "Do you want to talk about something, cara mia?"

"I... There's something on my mind," you began, your voice laden with uncertainty.

Copia looked at you with a loving and patient expression. "What is on your mind, amore? Tell me."

You took a deep breath before continuing, "I was thinking about what Secondo said about us being different, how we are not... equal."

Copia's expression remained soft and understanding. "Oh, amore, this doesn't bother me at all."

"I know, but, Copia," you sighed, your voice heavy with emotion. "I'll grow old, and life will pass, and I'll die at a certain age, and... I... We will not be together forever, and you will always be around, but I'm not eternal."

Copia listened intently as you voiced your fears and concerns, his love for you evident in his eyes.

You continued, your voice trembling slightly, "I would be glad to spend your limited life by your side, but I can't deny that seeing you... watching you live on while I'm gone would hurt me. I don't... want to think about me leaving you," you confessed.

Copia's gaze never left yours as he spoke reassuringly, "But you wouldn't be leaving me, amore. That would be just the consequences of a human life."

"But what if I don't want to face the consequences of my human life?" you questioned, your voice barely above a whisper.

Copia leaned in closer, his eyes filled with love and understanding. "What do you mean, cara mia?"

You hesitated, struggling to find the words to express your deepest desires. "What if I want to have eternal life by your side, Copia? I just love you so much, I... I can't bear the thought of growing older every day, knowing that I won't be with you in the afterlife."

Copia's gaze held yours, and he spoke with a tenderness that left no room for doubt, "Amore, am I understanding what you are saying?"

"I'm not entirely sure yet, Copia," you replied, your uncertainty still evident. "Because, I don't know if I would be prepared for this lifestyle."

Copia reached out, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb, his eyes filled with love and devotion. "You wouldn't have to worry about it, cara," he assured you. "I would be by your side all the time. Taking care of you, being with you, loving you."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt a rush of emotions. "Would you?" you asked, seeking confirmation.

"Sì, amore mio, forever and ever," Copia affirmed, his voice filled with sincerity. He shifted his position, moving on top of you, his eyes locking onto yours with unwavering affection. "So what do you say, cara?" he asked tenderly. "Do you want the eternal life by my side?"

Grammar

Buongiorno, dormigliona - Good morning, sleepyhead.

Mi dispiace, amore - I'm sorry, love.

Sì - Yes.

Cara - Dear.

Molto bene - Very well.

Miei fratelli - My brothers.

Fratello! Sei venuto! - Brother! You came!

Cosa sto facendo qui - What am I doing here?

Da quando sei diventato così brontolone? - Since when did you become so grumpy?

Non preoccuparti, fratello - Don't worry, brother.

Ti abbiamo appena sentito mancare - We just missed you.

Piccolina - Little one.

I nostri fratelli - Our brothers.

Non posso credere che tu sia veramente qui - I can't believe you're really here.

E hai portato uno spuntino con te - And you brought a snack with you.

Lei non è uno spuntino - She is not a snack.

Cretino - Idiot.

Mio fratello, sei davvero venuto - My brother, you really came.

Cosa hai fatto? - What have you done?

Fai attenzione, piccola angela - Be careful, little angel.

Lasciala andare - Let her go.

Non lo dirò di nuovo - I won't say it again.

Capito - Got it.

Qualsiasi cosa tu voglia, fratello - Whatever you want, brother.

Per favore - Please.

Ci dispiace profondamente - We are deeply sorry.

Fratello - Brother.

Ti amo così tanto, amore - I love you so much, my love.

Vieni con me, fratello - Come with me, brother.

Capisco cosa intendi ora - I see what you mean now.

Donna - Woman.

Io apprezzo la tua autostima - I appreciate your self-esteem.

Bella - Beautiful.

Perfetto - Perfect.

Bene - Well.

Va bene - It's fine.

Questo non è il nostro problema - This is not our problem.

Perdona l'interruzione - Forgive the interruption.

Merda - Shit.

Cazzo - Fuck.

Mi dispiace - I'm sorry.

Sei così perfetta - You're so perfect.

[nadinebrooks]

hii I was wondering if you could do a harry j potter x fem!reader fluffy oneshot (takes place in hbp) where they’re just chilling in Harry’s dorm cuddling and harry tells the reader how much he loves her and he’s like touchy touchy cuddly kisses pecks all over the face whispering sweet nothings, etc. I think it’d be very cute<3 also I’m sorry if you don’t understand something but English isn’t my first language (me crying in poland rn cause it’s just fucking hard to not make any mistakes) anyway I hope you understood. have a nice night or day idk in poland it’s night. thank you!!

Here is the link to my masterlist.

Harry Potter x Reader: Ray of Light

Warnings: Tons of fluff

As the late afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of the Gryffindor Tower, it cast a warm glow across the room. You sat comfortably in Harry’s dorm room while leaning against a pile of pillows on his bed. The two of you had decided to spend some time away from the worries and dark secrets that currently plagued the corridors of Hogwarts. 

As the moments ticked by in comfortable silence, Harry was lazily flipping through the pages of his Potions textbook that had been upgraded by the Half-Blood Prince. Whenever he got some extra time, he loved to flip through the contents of his book and read over new potions and spells.

Momentarily glancing up from the book, he couldn’t help but be captivated by your beauty. The way that the sunlight trickled in from the window danced across her face highlighting everything that Harry deemed to be perfect. 

On top of that there was your unwavering support. You had stood by him since day one. Through thick and thin. The way you made him feel grounded when it seemed like everything else was falling apart. 

He decided that today was the day. He was going to muster up the courage to tell you exactly how he felt. The truth had been living within his heart for what felt like years now. He slowly closed the book and placed it on his bedside table and turned to face you. His emerald eyes were filled with unspoken longing. 

“(y/n), there’s something I need to tell you.” His voice was soft, but it was filled with emotion. 

“What’s up Harry?” You pushed yourself up from the pile of pillows and met his gaze filled with curiosity and anticipation. 

“You mean the world to me. I never thought I would find someone who understands me like you do. I’ve dealt with a lot of darkness in my life. More than anyone should have to deal with. And you have been my ray of light.” He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this vulnerable with someone. The fact that the sunshine was now trickling across the both of you made this moment even better. 

Your heart skipped a beat and the feeling of warmth filled your entire body. You had held on to your feelings for Harry just as long as he had, but you never dared to reveal them out of fear or rejection or even complicating the friend group. 

“I’ve felt the same way for so long, Harry.” You reached across the bed and gently grabbed his hand. Your voice was barely audible, but they carried the weight of sincerity. 

As both of your words hung in the air, any sort of tension evaporated and was replaced with a sense of comfort. You scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and pulled him in closer. Without even thinking about it, he instantly leaned into your embrace. You rested your head against his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. The world outside faded away and left only the two of you embarrassing. 

“With everything going on with Voldemort, I couldn’t do this without you by my side.” Harry’s fingertips brushed against your cheek. His touch was as light as a feather.

“You don’t have to do any of this alone Harry. I’m going to be there for whatever you need.” You assured him. There was a flicker of gratitude in his eyes as he rested his forehead against yours. It felt as if the world had conspired to bring you together at this very moment. 

“I love you (y/n). I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have someone like you in my life.” He admitted, his voice was a mere whisper. Wrapped in each other’s arms, you felt a sense of serenity, as if the chaos of the world couldn’t reach you here. 

These three words hung in the air and carried a profound weight that echoed through the room. It was a declaration that went past the boundaries of friendship. In the stillness of the moment, Harry pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead, his lips lingered against your skin. 

As the sun began to dip behind the horizon, you and Harry remained entwined. You know that as long as you had each other, it didn’t matter what was going to happen in the future. 

[kingofpopmj]

Conscious Decision

Part 6

July 16th, 1988

The air was tense, Michael and I stood inches apart, half naked, since only moments ago we were ripping our clothes off. Every time we met each other’s gaze, quickly we looked elsewhere. We were seconds away from sleeping together for the first time and now we’re quiet and still, practically frozen in time. Michael’s palms still resting on my hips, every few minutes I felt his fingers gently squeeze my skin. My hands slid down from his shoulders as I wrapped them around his torso, resting my head on his bare chest.

“Y/N?” Michael’s voice sounded afraid and it was only then I realized how much time had passed in silence. “Are you going to give me an answer?”

“Are you serious? You’re actually proposing? It wasn’t just something that came out in the heat of the moment?”

“Of course I’m serious. Why not?”

“What do you mean why not?”

“I mean I’m thirty, remember the Grammy’s pact a few years back?”

“Pact?”

“Yes, you said we should promise to get married if we weren’t with anyone else by the time we’re thirty.”

“Michael, that was a joke, I was embarrassed because I told you how much you meant to me and you— you didn’t say anything.” I looked away from him, focusing on the ivory wallpaper that covered the room. “We just started dating, after years of hurting each other with mixed signals. We’re finally together..”

“Yeah, but the promise. The pact.”

“So, that’s why you want to get married?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged.

“Why not?” I shook my head. “A proposal shouldn’t be thrown out on a whim, or a halfhearted pact, you should ask because you want to get married. And it’s okay if you aren’t ready, because I—” Michael spun around, running out of the room not even bothering to listen to what I had to say. “Well, that’s rude. Where are you going?”

I crossed my arms following his trail, I found him shoving things around the closet in a panic, eventually, reappearing with one of his suitcases. He aggressively threw it on the floor, scrambling through it before pulling out a small black box.

He pushed the suitcase to the side, stepping forward to stand in front of me, he smiled brightly, leaving a kiss on my nose, then he lowered himself down onto one knee.

“Mich—”

“I’ve carried this ring around with me since I was eighteen.” He whispered. “It was the first big purchase I made, because for years I dreamt about it. I dreamt about you, about us.”

“In this moment, it doesn’t matter how long it took me not to be afraid. How long it took me to tell you I loved you. How long it took me to ask you to be my girl. I’ll kick myself for the rest of my life because of it, but I’ve learned so much from my stupidity as well— I don’t want to waste time. I refuse to waste another second.”

“Michael—”

“You need to know I never doubted my love for you. I was never unsure when it came to you. In fact, you’re the only thing I’ve ever been sure of. I only doubted myself— I was only unsure of myself because I never thought I’d be enough for you. I never thought I deserved you, I still don’t. If I wasn’t enough for you, nothing and no one else mattered— no one compares. I rather be alone. But, I’ve learned that it’s not about any of that. It’s about choosing one another, choosing to be enough and choosing to grow together.”

“You are enough, you’re more than enough.” I choked out.

“Because I’ve finally chosen to be enough.” He answered simply— confidently. “After years and years of pulling you in just to push you away, I’m choosing from now until my last moment on this earth— I choose you. My heart, my soul, my mind choose you. I’ve always been yours. This ring is just a formality at this point.” He quietly laughed. “Y/N, I love you, I love you so much. Will you marry me?”

Slowly, I knelt down in front of him, trying to compose myself enough to get any words out. Our eyes glassy, the sound of our breathing being taken over by sniffling as we reached out for each other with trembling hands.

“I adore you.” I cupped his face, leaning in to kiss him. The tears were falling down my face uncontrollably, causing the words to get stuck in my throat. “I love you. Michael, you’re everything. My everything. I love you so much. I’m yours. I always have been.”

“Is that a yes?” He spoke loudly, holding my face, his eyes frantically studying my expression.

“Y-yes!” My voice failing me as I answered him. Michael pulled me into him tightly, leaving kisses all over my face with intense speed.

“Come here!” Michael shouted, jumping to his feet and pulling me up with him. “Honey, you’re trembling.”

“I was not expecting a proposal.”

“I’m glad I could surprise you.” He smiled, wiping my tears away with his thumb. “I should probably put this on you now. What do you think?” I nodded eagerly, holding out my shaky hand.

He brought my hand to his lips, leaving a kiss before sliding the ring on my finger. No words felt sufficient in describing how I was feeling. I felt his arms tighten around my waist lifting me off the floor, quickly I wrapped my legs around him, we took in the moment— this moment.

The thumping of his heartbeat, the scent of his aftershave, the smoothness of his skin, the curve of his lips. My focus moved from his lips to his eyes. He’s looking back at me, adoringly, with that gaze that’s reserved for only me. I’ll never understand what I did to deserve him, but I know I’ll never take him for granted.

Michael’s palms rested firmly against my butt, a flirtatious smile spread across his face, I sent him a wink provoking him just enough to continue. He playfully shook his head at me before throwing me onto the bed and jumping on top of me. He buried his face in my neck, tickling me with his tongue, with Michael distracted I decided to tease him further. I let my touch linger as my palms slowly moved down his toned chest and abs. I tucked my fingers into his waistband, tugging at his bottoms, quickly gaining Michael’s attention. As we stared into each other’s eyes, we communicated exactly how we were feeling without a single word.

He crashed his lips into mine, kissing me hard, kissing me with purpose. We quickly tore off any remaining clothing, throwing it on the floor. Michael rolled, pulling me on top of him as he fell back into the mattress, being on top of him gave me a strong adrenaline rush. He fit perfectly between my thighs. His hands were grazing across every inch of my body, spending extra time caressing my breasts, causing me to giggle against his lips. I took his erection into my hand, pumping his thick member, he’s larger than I thought was possible.

“Are you sure?” He asked me breathlessly, licking his lips. “Because we can wait.”

“Do you want to wait?” I asked, he aggressively shook his head no.

“Sweetheart, I just want you to be sure.” He spoke with his eyes squeezed shut.

“I’m completely naked, straddling my very sexy, very naked fiancé. I’d say I’m pretty sure.”

“I just—”

I refused to let him finish his sentence. I wanted him, maybe even more than he wanted me. Taking a deep breath, I lowered myself feeling his tip push through my folds, desperate to take him whole, his infinite inches massaging my insides in the process. It sent sparks throughout my body, which was overwhelming. My heartbeat only increased as I watched his eyes rolled back. Slowly, I began rolling my hips, loving every second of Michael loosing his mind beneath me.

“Oh wow.” Michael muttered.

“Oh sorry, did you want to wait?” I teased, lifting myself off of him nonchalantly.

“God no!” He spoke sternly, his hands gripping my sides, keeping me close. “You’re not going anywhere.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

July 17th, 1988

I woke up to the sound of the TV, we must have forgotten to turn it off last night. My cheek against Michael’s bare chest, our legs tangled underneath the sheets and the butterflies in my stomach. This is how I’d wake up everyday for the rest of my life.

“You awake?” Michael muttered, running his fingers up and down my back.

“Yes.”

“Last night was fun.” I could practically hear him smiling ear to ear. “It was perfect.”

“It was.” I smiled, leaving a kiss on his chest.

“I don’t want to move. I don’t want to leave you.”

“Me either.”

“I cancelled all my press junk for this morning and I have the next six days off.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. Plus, we’re telling my mom today.” He happily stated, playing with the ring around my finger.

“Michael, should we tell people yet?”

“We don’t have to tell people. My mom isn’t people.”

“Do you think she’ll be happy?”

“She’s going to be ecstatic.”

I sat up, shifting my body to straddle him, feeling him so close felt exhilarating and I found myself wanting him again. I briefly inspected all of the dark purple marks that now littered his neck and chest. Last night was incredible. My heart felt full as his beautiful bright smile took over his face. I admired the man laying before me, leaving kisses on each hickey, until I finally reached his perfect lips.

“Y/N, baby, if you keep kissing me like that we’re not gonna leave this room for weeks.”

“That’s my master plan silly.”

“I can’t believe you’re my fiancée.” Michael said, smiling against my lips.

“You better believe it.” I shot him a big grin before hopping off the bed.

“Where are you going?” He whined, reaching out, trying to pull me back in.

“I’m going to shower.” I slowly tip toed to the doorway leading to the bathroom before dropping the sheets that once covered my body. “Aren’t you going to join me fiancé?”

“I’m up!” He shouted, jumping up, throwing the covers off himself and sprinting towards me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Michael to finish getting ready. We’re supposed to meet Katherine soon, but Michael disappeared into the spare room almost an hour ago, to say I was worried was an understatement. I didn’t want to bother him, sometimes he needs to be alone with his thoughts. I did my best to respect that, so I waited until we absolutely had to leave. Finally, I built up the courage to knock on the door.

“Come in.”

“Hi babe.” I smiled at the sight of him sitting by the window, wearing a lettermen jacket and jeans, his favorite ray bans concealing his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He answered apathetically, not even looking at me, the room felt cold, he felt cold, I could feel him putting walls up and that made me nervous.

“I’m sorry for interrupting.” I spoke softly, stepping back, closing the door quietly.

Michael does this. He goes through things and it takes him a while to open up about it. He goes at his own speed, if you push him to talk before he’s ready he’ll run. It’s hard to get him back after that, so I give him his space— no matter how much it hurts.

I stared at the clock, watching time continue to pass by. We’re late to meet Katherine, twenty-five minutes late to be exact. Suddenly, I heard a door open, followed by footsteps, I jumped up so fast I got dizzy. I hoped he’d be in a better mood— I hoped he’d talk to me if he was ready. I hoped.

“Let’s go.” Michael muttered, walking by the room, he didn’t slow down, he didn’t even look my way. I stood, watching the doorway for a moment, feeling like maybe it’s me. Maybe I did something wrong. I raced to catch up with him, only to find an empty living room. Surprisingly, when I opened the front door, Michael was standing by the elevator, holding it open with his arm.

I walked quickly down the hall, the closer I got to Michael the more anxious I felt. Once I was within arms reach, he grabbed my hand intertwining our fingers. When the doors shut, Michael jumped up, pulling the emergency lever. The elevator violently jerked, coming to a hard stop, as I tried to adjust to the situation, I was pressed up against the wall by Michael.

“I need you.” He said breathlessly.

“Michael—” he stopped me mid sentence, lifting up my dress. “Wait.”

“What is it?”

“Camera.” I answered pointing behind him. He scanned the small space, taking off his jacket and covering the lenses.

“Now, where were we?” Michael kissed me deeply, sucking on my lips, I hungrily pushed back, his back crashing into the key pad. My hands rested delicately on either side his neck, fingers grazing his sharp jawline. He pulled me closer, spinning me around, trapping me in between himself and the wall. A panicked voice spoke through the small speaker as Michael unbuttoned his pants, lifting up my dress. He smacked the key pad out of frustration never removing his focus from me. He roughly grabbed my thigh, raising it just enough to give himself access to the part of me he was so desperate to feel. His smooth skin against mine, as his fingers became tangled in my hair. His moans drove me wild. I slid my hand under his shirt, caressing his back and slowly dragging my fingernails across his sweaty skin, he clenched his teeth sucking in a deep breath.

“I love when you do that.”

“Good because it’s going to leave a mark.”

“Mark me up baby.”

I cried out Michael’s name so loud I was sure the entire hotel could hear us, but I felt no shame. The elevator was noticeably rocking, making different clinking sounds, that would normally cause alarm, but we didn’t care and by his movements I could tell Michael loved it. He loved the chaos— the recklessness. I felt his soft lips along my neck and cheek as he whispered sweet nothings in my ear.

“I’m— oh god.” Michael moaned, a warm sensation erupting between us, our connection feeling stronger than ever. He rested his forehead against my shoulder, squeezing me lightly, his arms snaking around my waist. He kept me pressed against him, taking his time to break away from me, I massaged his scalp, wanting nothing else but this. I wanted him and only him. We desperately gasped for air in the small space that was now hot and stuffy.

“I’ve never been so hooked on anything.” Michael said with a low giggle. “But you— I’m addicted.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We stepped off the elevator as if nothing unusual took place, walking onto the rooftop restaurant, the sunlight shining brightly as we tried to locate Katherine.

“There you are!” A sweet voice hollered, I felt arms wrap around me from behind, briefly lifting me off the ground, I turned my head coming face to face with Janet.

“Oh my goodness! What are you doing here?” I pulled her into the tightest hug.

“Just came to see my big brother perform and to see you. Mostly to see you.” She winked, laughing when Michael rolled his eyes at her comment.

“The only reason I came to visit him was to hang out with you.” I teased.

“Oh honey, I’m the best Jackson. Michael is just a decoy.” She declared, pulling us along with her to a secluded area where we found Katherine sitting at a long table accompanied by Joe and the rest of Michaels’ family. This was a lovely surprise.

“Look who I found!” Janet announced, using her goofy voice, I covered my face, hiding my laughter as she continued to dance around Michael and I.

“Oh my goodness!” I felt a tug at my arm. “What is this?” Janet questioned, staring at my hand.

“Is that what I think it is!” Katherine spoke up, looking over at Michael. I was panicking to say the least. I don’t know if this is how he wanted to tell them our news or if he was even expecting the rest of his family to be in attendance.

“No way!” I heard Marlon shout.

“Finally.” Jermaine rolled his eyes, Tito and Jackie wasted no time throwing pieces of fruit at him.

“Seriously?” Latoya screeched, jumping out of her seat.

“Are you guys?” Janet’s voice was shaky, her eyes watery as she scanned my face expectantly. “Are you finally going to be my sister! Like officially?”

I glanced over at Michael, hopeful that he’d speak up for us, but he stayed silent, staring back at me, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Michael!” Katherine pestered him impatiently. He didn’t look away, moving behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist with a big smile.

“I’m so happy you could all be here. It makes this special moment— a true celebration.” Michael paused, tucking his face into the crook of my neck, temporarily hiding his tears, then proceeding. “It’s no secret that I’ve been madly in love with this incredible woman my whole life. I couldn’t wait any longer, so without further ado, my wonderful family that I love dearly— even Jermaine. Y/N and I are engaged.”

“AHH!” Janet screamed, jumping up and down before pulling Michael and I into a bear hug. Fairly quickly everyone left their seats, congratulating us— everyone except Joe.

“Mom, no, don’t cry.” Michael cooed, hugging her tightly, trying to console her.

“Welcome to the family.” Marlon pulled me into his chest. “I always rooted for you two. I’m so excited you’re gonna be my sister-in-law.”

“Thank you Marlon.”

“Okay, okay! Out of my way. I need to hug my new daughter-in-law.” Katherine pushed everyone out of her path, to reach me, once I saw her I began to loose it. I hugged her tightly, allowing the tears to fall. Besides marrying the love of my life— having Katherine as a mother-in-law, is just— it’s indescribable. I have so much love and respect for her.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s sit.” Katherine spoke wiping away her tears. “I love when all my babies are together.”

Michael pulled my chair out, leaving a kiss on my temple before taking the seat next to me. I was overwhelmed with the response from the Jackson bunch— it meant the world to me.

“You’re having her sign a prenup.” Joe finally grunted, his phrasing sounding like a statement more so than a question. The table fell silent. Katherine swatted his shoulder, mumbling something in his ear.

“She is signing a prenup!” He barked, slamming his hand on the table, causing me to flinch against my will.

“Dad, we can discuss this later.” Michael said calmly.

“No, we’re discussing it right now.” He retorted. “This is a dynasty. A dynasty that I built and I’ll be damned if I have to sit back and watch as some outsider tears it apart.”

“Y/N, grew up with us, she’s hardly an outsider.” Rebbie spoke up.

“I am not talking to you.” Joe said sternly. I had no idea what to do, feeling offended was the least of my problems at the moment.

“If I choose to go down that path, then I will discuss it with Y/N, but I don’t see that happening because it’s not a concern to me.”

“It’s a concern to me!”

“Well, your concern is irrational and irrelevant.” Michael spat back staring daggers at his father.

“Don’t you dare get brave with me boy. Have you forgotten that I made you who you are? I made all of you work hard. I made you talented. I made all of you what you are. So if you think I’m gonna be silent while some— some gold digger—“

“Y/N is not a gold digger!” It was in this moment I became even more thankful for our seclusion. I exchanged worried looks with a few of Michael’s siblings, their young children looking scared as they witnessed their grandfather’s episode.

“I know a gold digger when I see one!” Joe shouted pointing at me with unmatched hatred. Goodness, this man basically watched me grow up, yet here he is acting as if I just walked in off the street and infiltrated his family.

“Y/N isn’t.” Jermaine’s voice shocked everyone, but he continued anyway. “She’s a good woman. She’s grown up with us. She’s no stranger. She cares about Michael the person— she’s not infatuated with Michael the star. Also, she makes her own money, she’s a surgeon, she works just as hard, if not harder than us. She’s intelligent. She kind. She’s basically family already. Most importantly, Y/N can support herself, she doesn’t need Michael, she chooses him there’s a difference.”

“Doctor.” Joe spoke at me. “You went to medical school, I assume that’s expensive. You’re in debt.”

“Is that a question?” I asked confidently, careful not to piss him off further, but at the same time not caring much. If this man wasn’t Michael’s father I wouldn’t even give him the time of day.

“You don’t have to answer to him.” Michael whispered, I squeezed his hand, letting him know I could hold my own.

“Yes.” Joe replied rolling his eyes.

“No.” I answered shortly, staring back at him.

“I don’t believe that. How’d you pay it off?”

“I had jobs all throughout pre-med, which is four years, and throughout medical school, which for me was three years. I remained at the top of my class, allowing me to apply for many scholarships. When I graduated— with honors might I add, since I worked hard and studied hard, hospitals from all over the country were interested in me and what I could bring to their team. I chose the hospital that I always wanted to work for, they covered my moving costs, gave me a generous salary bump and paid off all my loans.”

Joe looked at me blankly, as if he was trying to call my bluff, so I smiled at him “Can we move on now?” I asked politely.

“I say when we move on!” He snapped, slamming his fist on the table.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Michael huffed at his father. “You’re not going to speak to her like that.”

“How much do you make?” He spoke in such a belittling tone it was tough to keep my cool.

“I make—”

“She makes enough. You will not disrespect her. Do you understand?” Michael interrupted, standing from his seat.

“Okay, let’s calm down.” Janet spoke soothingly.

“This is the thanks I get for making you successful?” Joe asked rhetorically, pushing off of his chair.

“You helped us showcase our talents. You didn’t make us talented. You didn’t make us successful. God gave us our gifts. We became what we are today because people appreciated them.”

“I know a parasite when I see one.”

“I hope for your sake that you aren’t referring to my fiancée.” Michael spat.

“Oh, did I offend you dear?” Joe said sarcastically.

“No. I’d have to respect someone in order for them to have such an effect on me.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, I’d have to respect someone—”

“I heard you!” He shouted, looking at me in disbelief, I wasn’t sure if I went too far, but I guess it’s too late for that. “You’re going to let this girl talk to me like that?” He looked at Michael.

“Her name is Y/N. And given everything you’ve said today, she’s not the only one that has lost respect for you.”

“Wow. This what I get for trying to get to know your soon to be wife.” Joe turned on his heel, walking away, mumbling something along the lines of loosing his appetite.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart.” Katherine spoke softly. “If it helps, I’ve never seen anyone stand their ground against Joe like you did.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“Well, most of us— the best of us are very happy for you two.” Jackie cheered, leading everyone to join in. The adults raising their glasses, the kids raising their cups in celebration of the occasion.

“Also, before I forget, for the wedding, I’m gonna need a plus three, I can’t decide between all the lovely ladies chasing after me. I’d hate to disappoint.” Randy said, prompting all his brothers to tease him for being such a liar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of brunch went on smoothly. The Jackson’s truly know how to party. They made me feel so welcome— so loved. I was beyond blessed. We made our way back to Michael and I’s shared suite. I was on the balcony with Michael’s sisters and he was in the living room with his brothers.

“I’m maid of honor right?” Latoya asked.

“In your dreams!” Janet interjected, throwing a pillow at her sister.

“What kind of dress are you wearing.” Rebbie asked excitedly.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t gone to try any on yet.”

“Where are you guys going to have the wedding?”

“Is bubbles going to be the best man?”

“Oh! What about a Neverland wedding?”

“If I’m not maid of honor, can I be the flower girl?”

I looked back at the three of them overwhelmed, unable to choose which question to answer first. Every time I was about to speak they threw a dozen more questions at me.

“Hi ladies.” Michael made his presence known, stepping out onto the balcony with a smile.

“Can I sing at your wedding?” Latoya requested, looking at Michael and I.

“Using the term sing loosely I see.” Janet commented, earning an eye roll from her sister.

“I need to talk to Y/N.” Michael announced.

“No, you see her all the time.” Rebbie retorted, crossing her arms.

“Can you please give us a moment?”

“Fine. You always hog her.” Rebbie spoke, his three sisters walked to the door, teasing Michael on the way out. He watched them leave, closing the door after them, making sure we could speak without any eavesdroppers.

“Y/N, baby?”

“Yes?”

“I want us to get married.”

“Me too.”

“I had this phone call with Bill earlier and he kept saying all this nonsense.” He paced the stone floor, rubbing the back of his neck. “It all made me so angry.”

“I’m sorry that happened.” I pulled him down to sit next to me, kissing his cheek.

“No. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I know I shut you out earlier this morning. I was just so mad at Bill, little did I know my dad would push me over the edge.”

“It’s okay.”

“I want to marry you.”

“I know I heard you the first time. I want to marry you too.”

“No, you’re not understanding.” He moved, sitting on the coffee table in front of me. “Now, let’s do it right now. Today.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure that I don’t want to go another second not being your husband.”

“How would we pull it off?”

“We’ve got my crazy family here to help us.” He chuckled lightly, stroking my cheek. “What do you think?”

“I think—” I leaned closer to him. “I think I want to marry you today.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There it is! Fun fact: I rewrote this over three times! I think you will all appreciate this cliffhanger more. Lol

The first draft I decided to change because I just wasn’t feeling it at all. Plus, it was going to make you guys hate me too much.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!! I loved writing this chapter. Thank you so much for reading 🫶🏻

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

P.S.

Happy Birthday to my girl Flora!

I hope you have the best day!

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

[the-and-sign-anon]

The Third Independent: 6

Word count: 2,460

Series Masterlist

Seventy-One Years Post-Fall

“Are you absolutely certain everything will be okay here while I’m gone?”

“For the fiftieth time Y/N, yes. We have everything prepared, our Plants are functioning properly and are well taken care of, and I’m going back into cold sleep until one of you comes back.”

You paced back and forth relentlessly in the Plant room on Home. Luida was patiently watching you from a chair while one of the Plants drifted nearer to you and reached out slowly. Her age was beginning to show now, despite all her years in cold sleep. Her eyes were as lively and warm as ever though, which brought you some comfort. 

“I just… maybe I shouldn’t go after all.”

“You should. A change of scenery would do you some good. And we’re well protected here these days.”

“Trying to get rid of me now? I thought our relationship was stronger than that.”

Luida laughed softly and stood to join you and the Plant. 

“It’s been more than half a century. It’s time you stretch those wings of yours, for more than a short flight around Home.” Her hand landed on your shoulder and you met her gaze. “He’s been out there a long time. He hasn’t forgotten us, so neither will you. It’s not a bad thing to see what else humanity has built here.”

You heaved a sigh and let your forehead press to the cool glass. The Plant pressed her hand to where your head rested and your lines glowed in harmony. 

“It’s just- it’s been so long. I don’t know how to… how to talk to people beyond this place. It’s you or the Worms. That’s my whole life.”

“Hey.” She waited until you wrapped your arms around yourself and spun to rest your back against the glass. “There was something before the Fall, you know. Just because you can’t remember it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. You’ll be okay, Y/N. You always have been.”

Luida always knew what to say. You wished you could have picked up on that after sixty-eight years here. 

“I’ll leave tomorrow. I promise.”

“Good. And you’re welcome back any time, you know this place is home for both of you.”

“I know.” Your voice was barely a whisper, thinking of your Vash. 

He last left five years ago. You were going crazy without him these days. No amount of time spent with Luida, Brad, or the Worms could quiet the storm in your mind. The love of your life was wandering and it made your heart restless. It was time you went out on your own and saw what kept Vash away so much. 

You spent half the night awake in your room once you bid goodnight to Luida. Your bag was packed, unpacked, then repacked again. Your nest was disassembled, then spread all across the room. You just couldn’t hold still. You grabbed one more bag and painstakingly packed up the most important pieces of your nest. 

It took hours to sort through it all. You swept up dozens of your feathers, painstakingly picking out and discarding the oldest ones, before tucking the best of them into the bottom of the bag. Then came an old shirt of Vash’s, adopted into your nest after he tore too big a hole in it to mend. You tossed in a pillow, a spare blanket, and some of the few feathers Vash himself had once sprouted. He’d been horribly embarrassed about it, but you’d just helped him clean them up and then put them deep enough into your nest that he couldn’t complain or insist you remove them. 

By early morning light, you had tortured yourself enough. It was time to leave. You and Luida shared a tearful goodbye as you saddled up a toma before setting off into the desert. Trails of Worms followed you for days, always watching over you at night and guiding you away from danger. It wasn’t so bad for the first few weeks. Lonely, but that was nothing new. 

Then you reached a town. It was small, with no Plants of its own. But the people seemed… happy. There were dozens of children running through the streets shouting excitedly or helping their families tend to their homes. The adults all seemed busy with their lives, no one sparing you more than a glance unless you looked right at them. 

The problem started after you paid a visit to a saloon near the heart of the town, looking to rent a room upstairs. You hadn’t intended to cause any trouble. You just wanted to ask a simple question. But you’d forgotten how little practice you had with people aside from Brad and Luida. 

“Excuse me, sir?”

The bartender turned to face you and immediately tensed up. Your wide, unblinking eyes put him on edge. It didn’t help how your head tilted at him, at such an odd angle. 

“Uh…”

You kept staring, watching as he fumbled to set down the glass he’d been cleaning and missed the countertop, dropping it to the floor and letting it shatter. You didn’t even flinch at the sound, your head tilting the other way to an even more unnatural angle. 

“Uh- sorry, sorry. I, um…” 

He scrambled to clean up the mess as you watched, his hands shaking and nearly catching on the shards of broken glass. That would likely come out of his paycheck. 

“If this is a bad time, I can come back later-”

“No!” He seemed to startle himself that time with his abrupt answer. “I mean- no, that’s alright. What can I- what can I do for you?”

“I’d like to rent a room upstairs, if there’s one available.”

You attempted a smile, with far too sharp of teeth for comfort. Every instinct he had told him not to let you any further into the place than you’d already gotten. If you had a room here, he was sure he’d end up dead. 

“Sorry… there- there’s no space. Sorry.”

You simply shrugged in resignation and stepped back from the bar. 

“Oh, well. Thanks anyway.” 

You tossed a carefree wave over your shoulder and walked back outside. Your toma was waiting patiently for you at the post you’d tied it to. You slipped the rope free and headed for another saloon nearer to the edge of town. While you had no better luck in finding a room to stay in, you did get a very nervous agreement to let you and your toma stay in a spare stall at the stables just next door. 

You quickly assembled your little nest and calmed your toma before drifting off to sleep. Unbeknownst to you, several of the townspeople snuck past, discussing the unnerving new visitor in hushed tones. The bartenders and their patrons spread word quickly, prompting everyone to double check the locks on their doors and windows that night. 

To your disappointment, every town seemed to have a similar reception to you. You really weren’t sure what you were doing wrong. You always smiled wide, held eye contact, and spoke as kindly as you could. Every time though, you were denied room and board. People kept conversations short and hurried off as quickly as possible. After a few months, you gave up on trying to talk to people. 

When you reached new towns, you would keep to the outskirts. You found abandoned houses to nest in. Your toma needed food, so you made a note requesting help that you would hang around its neck and send it towards groups of kids. It worked pretty well most of the time and you avoided attention from the townspeople. 

Over the course of five years, you came across plenty of towns. No adults wanted to talk to you, so you tended to sleep during the day and travel around at night. The Worms would go with you, lifting your toma to ease its load as you flew alongside them. When your toma fell ill and passed, you started traveling lighter. You only really needed clothing and your nesting materials, so you left everything else behind. 

With your distance from the towns you saw, you never heard the stories that were passed around by other travelers. Tales of a figure lurking in the shadows with glowing eyes. Feathers unlike anything anyone had seen before drifting through the air. Farmers swore they’d seen someone floating in the air in their fields. No one had a name for it, but eventually everyone had heard some legend or another. 

The only real interaction you had over the five years came from the more bold children. A few would dare each other to investigate empty houses in the evening light and on occasion, they’d find you. One such occasion came three years into your travels. 

You were fast asleep in your nest when they arrived. Four boys and a girl with a point to prove. She’d begged her brother to let her play with him and his friends, but he always argued that she couldn’t keep up. She insisted she could, so they set her a challenge. 

She crept in through the front door, looking around at the dusty floors and cracked windows. Her every step creaked loudly, the walls moaning in the wind. The boys were all waiting at a distance, pushing each other around and laughing at how scared she would be when she came running back out. 

The ground floor was empty, nothing but some worn down furniture and cobwebs. She carefully ascended the stairs, creaking even louder than the floors. The sound woke you, but you remained still with your guard up. The top floor was smaller than the first, with a simple bathroom and a comfortable bedroom, where you had set up your nest. 

Her steps were slow and deliberate. As she got closer, you could hear her talking to herself, trying to ease her own nerves. 

“There’s nothing here… those stupid boys just want to scare you…”

You curled up and watched through the layers of fabric as she stepped into the room and looked around. Her eyes slowed on the pile of your nest, her body tensing for a moment. 

“It’s just blankets the people left behind. Nothing to be afraid of.”

“You’re half right.”

She screeched as you poked your head up to look at her. You shuffled up to stand, your hands raised in a placating gesture. 

“It’s okay.”

She couldn’t move. Her feet were stuck. She just kept screaming. 

“Please stop that. It’s quite loud.”

The girl ran out of breath and stared at you with tears in her eyes.

How did Vash do this? 

You hunched your shoulders a bit to lower your stature and made a conscious effort to blink more often. You kept your hands up just in case and backed up to give her a little more space. 

“It’s okay, I won't hurt you.”

You sat back down on your nest and hoped she wouldn’t just run off. 

“You… you were in the blankets…”

You shrugged in what you hoped was a carefree manner. 

“It’s my nest, I sleep in it.”

Her brow furrowed. 

“There’s a bed right there.”

She pointed dumbly at the musty old bed against the opposite wall. It likely wouldn’t have supported your weight if you’d even tried it.

“Nests are better. For me, at least.”

“So… you won’t hurt me?”

“Not so much as a hair on your head.”

She relaxed and smiled at you then. You tried to smile back and she cringed. 

“What?”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to have such sharp teeth. Or so many of them.”

Right. Brad had mentioned that before, but it had been so long since you’d thought about it. Your smile got smaller, hiding the extra teeth and their sharpness. 

“That’s better.”

“Can I stand up now? I’ve been curled up all day sleeping.”

The young girl nodded, but still watched you with a small measure of caution as you rose to your feet again. You stayed a little smaller this time. 

“So, what’s your name?”

“I’m Y/N. Are you comfortable telling me your name?”

“I’m Melody.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Melody. Are you here alone? I only ask because I doubt it’s very safe for someone your age to wander around alone. Especially this far from town. I came out here for exactly that reason.”

Melody opened her mouth to answer, then closed it and got a wicked grin on her face. You tilted your head at her in confusion.

“Actually, I have an idea.”

The boys were on edge once Melody screamed. Her brother hadn’t meant for anything bad to happen to her, he just wanted to freak her out enough to make her leave him alone. But she sounded genuinely afraid in there. 

“Uh… Cazin. Is she okay in there?”

“I- I don’t know.”

As the four boys tried to gather their courage, you slipped out of the house and crept closer with Melody watching from the window. Cazin stepped forward to go look for his sister. In the same moment he took the first step, you raised up to your full height with a sinister expression. 

“Looking for someone?”

The boys shrieked and fell backward, all four scrambling to cover themselves on the ground. Melody came out of the house to join you, laughing at her brother’s expense. When Cazin realized what had happened and turned a bitter glare on you both, you broke into an evil laugh, terrifying until you doubled over and wiped tears from your eyes. 

“It doesn’t feel nice when someone scares you on purpose, does it?”

Cazin and his friends at least had the decency to look embarrassed. They grumbled in agreement and took your offered hands to help them up. You spent the rest of the daylight playing around with the children. They all got comfortable quickly enough, even getting as far as encouraging you to stand at your full height. 

They all cringed as you popped all your joints and stood as tall as you could, but shook off the discomfort at the chance to try to climb your back. You let them hang from your arms, gave them rides on your back, and ran back to the edge of town with them as the last rays of sunlight faded. 

You bid them a sweet goodbye, but explained you needed to keep moving. Melody begged you to come back again someday, so you made a promise to do so. You hoped it could happen soon enough for her not to notice how little you would have changed in the time between. After all, those humans could only understand so much when you were so different from them.

[ofmermaidstories]

Hey Mermaid 🩷💜

It's me Lady, it's been a while. ;) I hope you're doing amazing! Having beautiful days and peaceful evenings, sleeping well, and staying hydrated💌💟

I hope you don't mind if this message feels too personal, and if it bothers you, please do ignore it.

I don't know if you've seen anything about the final chapter yet. And I, of course, do not want to spoil.

And I do sincerely hope you see the official chapter before this, so that my words makes sense. I guess I just want to say I'm feeling very overwhelmed about MHA ending, it's the most precious show to me . And especially Izuku's conclusion and how Horikoshi went about it. Again, I won't spoil of course but I guess I'm a bit disappointed.

I don't know, but something in me wanted your opinion and thoughts on the ending and Izuku's story's conclusion. Since, through reading your In another Life series fanfictions, I felt more connected to my favs (Izuku and Katsuki). Your writing gave me a new way of looking at their dynamic, story, and what a future for them entails with everything that they are and aren't.

I was actually avoiding the leaks because I wanted to at least read the official chapter when it's out since it is the last. So that I can honor it on a way. But one thing led to another by a simple scroll through tiktok.

Anyways, when I saw the panels I guess I thought "I would like to write him a hundred other happy endings". I say "other" because he's clearly happy in the conclusion, even with everything that happened (OFA and Tenko's conclusion mostly). But still, the thought came up.

And then I actually remembered your drabble of Izuku and his child, the "he will be your husband's biggest heartache" one, and I don't know, I guess I really wanted to ask you.

Thank you for staying with me. I hope you have a day filled with happy wishes. 🎀💌

Hi Mermaid 💌

It's me Lady, I half-hope you see this ask before my other previous one that I sent. This one might be long too, so sorry in advance. And thank you for taking the time♥️.

It has been plaguing my mind. I was really emotional about the ending and had alot to get off my chest, I ended up writing all that to you. I feel so embarrassed, and I could have worded it better.

I really just want to clear out a few things 😅. If you don't mind. I am not the kind of fan to put dirt on the author her/himself no matter how unsatisfied I am with a part of their story. I hope I didn't imply that in my previous ask about the ending and Izuku's conclusion (I barely remember much of what I said 😭)

Secondly, while 8 years is a huge gap, getting to see pro-hero class A was so surreal, in a "proud parent" way 🥹. I think I implied I wanted ur thoughts on the could-be-considered unsatisfactory parts of the ending. But I actually meant as a whole. Eri grown up also had me so proud and happy! She deserves to live a normal teenager girl life 🩷.

Bonus points pro hero Bakugou looking gorgeous as always 🤭. Kind of fills the picture for me now whenever | read pro-hero au fanfiction.

And the way he paid the most out of the class A alumni for Izuku to have a hero suit so that he could he a hero, and they could compete with one another again is so sweet.

But again, to make my point clear. I would love to hear your thoughts personally on everything that the ending, please.

I hope you have a wonderful day 🎀💟

Lady! Lilium. Lady Lilium. 🥹 Hi!!! Please don’t feel embarrassed!!! 🥺 Your asks actually let me feel relieved, lmao, because it meant I wasn’t alone in the… idk! topsy turvy feelies that the leaks had caused. 🥹 If there’s one thing I won’t miss it’s the entitlement that causes leaks to breach containment and ruin everyone else’s day. 💀 But!! Lili, how are you feeling on the other side of the official release??? For me personally it was like… a sense of relief, lmfao, like no matter my nitpicks about things (I do think the epilogue in general was rushed, and i’m kinda like 💀💀💀 over class a’s decision not to tell their friend about their goal to fund his iron man suit, lmao. there’s surprises and then there’s making life-altering decisions for someone LOL) i think the ending is sweet. 🥹 The last page does a lot of heavy lifting, emotionally, for me, and i’m wondering if it’s the same for you and others?

An account I follow on twitter said something about how as a reader they weren’t really happy with the ending, but they could see why fic writers would be, because everything’s so open-ended and it kinda startled me, because of how immediately i agreed? LOL. like, i like the ending for the same reason i’ve liked the series: it is open-ended, there’s enough world building that you can build on top of it, as a fic writer, and work with the lore Hori like, hints throughout it. But as a reader I could see how someone could be unsatisfied. We rush through the group’s remaining years at UA. The Billboard rankings are still a thing, despite Hawk’s grand speech in making an effort to include non-traditional heroes. Hero commercialism is still running rampant and if anything, the pro hero world sounds like it’s gotten more enclosed and harder to be apart of? Whichhhh I guess you could argue it should’ve always been that way—they are extreme first defenders in a lot of respects so sure, you need the best of the best—but idk. I keep thinking about the league, lmao, and all that change they carried on about wanting—and what they got was most of them killed in action and also no change LMAOO. No, wait, Shoji ends mutant racism and Ochako compels more Quirk counselling 🥹 (I’m not mad at that, I think it’s touching they both end up spearheading movement/efforts for ending discrimination/encourage understanding, it’s just… those are a big fights, you know? Big undertakings 🥺).

Idk idk idk. I’m trying to think of something that I, as a reader and not a fanfic writer, am unsatisfied with and I guess… I’m not unsatisfied with the ending moreso than I am with my biggest and most constant complaint: that Hori’s a coward who’s cowardice undermines his emotional beats LMAOOO. I think he’s a coward for letting Edgeshot live. I think he’s a coward for not confirming a ship—like, any of them. He’s a coward for not daring to imagine significant change in the pro hero system. But even with those criticisms, I still enjoy the series, and love it for what it is. 🥺

My original reaction to the final chapter leaks, tbh, was like—to get the ick LMFAOOOOOO. i was like, what is this. what have u DONE TO MY BOYYY. idk it gave me the ick for both deku and bakugou and i can’t really explain why??? now that we have the official chapter out, i think it was definitely a deadly combo of like—fandom making up their own minds about things and running it into the ground within the space of hours. 💀 that’s on me, i should’ve gone underground, i knew this fandom would skirt close to ruining the entire series for me like the clowns in the clown car they are. but this is why i was so relieved to get your asks, Lili!!! 🥺 Because it was like, omg, it’s not just me, like, we’re processing what we know about it together. 🥺 eight years!!!! i feel the same—like a proud parent. 🥹 The montage panels showing us the bits and pieces of everyone—Eri deserves to live her best high school musician life!!! 😭 But all of them, all of them made me emotional in some way. Aizawa and Mic visiting Oboro’s grave. 🥺 mirko with her insane prosthetics. 💀 love her. Endeavour losing his family, but being surrounded by the heroes from his agency. 🥺 Izuku seeing Shigaraki, at the end. So much of it was bittersweet, or satisfying to see in action. The kids competing in the sports festival!! Bakugou being cheerled as he rehabs his arm!!! Izuku, smiling, as he holds the last embers of OFA. That part actually devastates me lmfao. I love that MHA like—shows that anyone can be a hero, that the thing that makes one is the compulsion to help others first, and that now there’s like, accessibility, but… idk. I wanted him and OFA to stay together forever. 🥹 But maybe this is for the best… now the past users really are at rest, and Izuku can be a hero on his own strength.

I love that Class A worked together to fund the suit. I know the “Bakugou paid more” thing was popular, in the wake of the leaks, and I could see him funnelling more into it but one of the things I hated the most with the leaks/that gave me the biggest ick (lmao) was how everyone was turning it into a shipping thing, and not an incredible statement on just how much Class A love each other, and love Deku. 🥺 All Might mentions in his fight with AFO, with his own hero suit, that it took his life’s savings—so for them to be able to fund Izuku’s with only, what, six years of pro hero salary? That’s an incredible group effort. And they did it because they love him!!!! 😭 Because he worked hard and deserved it and they all knew it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Because the golden generation doesn’t leave anyone behind!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love them, i’m obsessed with their pro hero designs, concerned about the potential rat tails bakugou has tho and i don’t want to talk about the facial hair that sero and mineta have, lmfao. Shinsou, however, can absolutely get it. 😎

idkkkkkkk lili—what do you think, now? Overall i’m still emotional about it, lmao. i think the endgame had weak spots and that hori has strengths and weaknesses (like we all do) as a storyteller—but that he delivered. 🥹 i think ultimately he did what he promised us he’d do: told us the story of how they became the greatest heroes.

[diced-sugar]

What is Sabre?

The last time I posted here was over three years ago. I suppose with this post I just wanted to give a little update on anyone that may have been interested in the Sabre game at some point, or mainly to chronicle what this blog was about for myself. I'm also not a big fan of internet mysteries left unsolved, so here's just some updates about the history of Sabre and myself.

Sabre was a game that I started to conceptualize in high school a short while after I played the original OFF. OFF is such a special game to me, very near and dear to my heart. Especially back then, it was one of my special interests and was at the forefront of my mind for years. I can't really describe what captivated me so much about it. It was the first time I had been introduced to absurdist concepts like that, if you can call it that, and its storytelling even in its simplicity captured me. I loved it so much, in fact, that I wanted more, which led me to play fangames and eventually design my own.

I started by writing out some dialogue and character concepts on a Google doc, and eventually bought RPG Maker 2003 and got to work. The main character, Mawren, which you can see in the latest screenshots of the new original build as well, was not inherently designed for Sabre, but instead just started off as a simple OFF OC for me. I designed the other characters based off of random things I saw in my life, such as a plant that was given to me for a holiday that I eventually made into to the merchant, Orpheus (the real life plant he's based off of is actually still alive! and its name is also Orpheus).

Anyway, I think barely anyone but me and a handful of others even know who the characters of Sabre are, not for any poor publicity reasons, but rather for the fact that I was very hesitant about sharing Sabre. Surprisingly, there actually is a finished build of Sabre which is still sitting on my computer. This finished build was completed sometime around very late 2019, very early 2020 as I remember rushing to finish it over my winter break for my friends to play. They were my main audience for Sabre, and while I don't talk to them anymore, I feel honored to know that someone enjoyed something I put so much care, love, and hard work into.

But anyway, this completed build was never meant to see the light of day in the OFF community. It was a first draft of sorts, a passion project which I could dump everything into without being too critical of myself. My plan all along had been to construct a version I saw would be more suited for others to play. I also felt, after playing other fangames which I really admired, that I used too many of the original assets of OFF and could have put more developed, original content into it of my own. That's only my own personal opinion in myself. I saw a version of Sabre in my mind that was some sort of improvement, though I still hold that original build near and dear to my heart. It's still a finished product after all, and anyone who works hard on a game or fangame no less should be proud of themselves, regardless of what others may say about the finished product.

But anyway, some time later after the original build, I began to work on a demo for the new Sabre. This would be available for the public to play, and I'd put it on the wiki for easy download. I don't remember exactly, but I think this demo went into about half of zone 1. By this time, my art skills had improved, but I remember I still struggled quite a bit in making my art look 'good' in the confines of the RPG Maker 2003 engine's constraints. Either way, I finished and published this demo on the OFF wiki.

What happened next is what made me give up on Sabre for a long time. I was fortunate to have someone kind in the community play my game and give me feedback on it, though to neither their fault nor mine, they encountered quite a few technical errors which I was embarrassed about. Then I received a message from another player calling me a slur and berating me on the mechanics of my game and how it paled in comparison to another fangame. It absolutely broke my heart and I didn't know what to do. After this, I deleted the demo from the wiki. When I recovered emotionally, I did work on yet another new build, which completely rehauled zone 0, the graphics, the characters, and the story, I stopped after a short while. To note, I'm not upset about that random player anymore. It was a long time ago, I'm a lot older and more emotionally mature, and from what I've heard, they're gone now. So it's all good!

Anyway, Sabre sat like that for a while. During this phase, it was still an OFF fangame. But my interest in OFF was waning as I moved onto other things. I still really adored all the characters I had made, but I began to question if I should keep it as an OFF fangame or not. I didn't want to include many, if any at all, of OFF's original characters, but I still really loved the world. This led me to making the version you'll see in the screenshots below, with Mawren in the forest. I constructed a whole different vision for Sabre, and while it still maintained some aesthetics of OFF, I feel it began to become too far removed to call it a fangame and instead just a game with OFF inspirations.

Now we are here. I haven't worked on either version of Sabre for a while, but I was thinking about it again and OFF and its fangames as a whole. So, I figured I would come back here and write this.

Where does Sabre stand now? Well, I'm not sure. There is a part of me that really adores it as an OFF fangame still. How could I not? That's where it all started, and I feel like it's still rooted in that somehow. But the other part of me desires more freedom than OFF's world, and as I said, my interest in OFF is far less than it was before. I feel that a compromise may be for me to combine the two latest builds of Sabre into one, and say that it just has OFF inspirations, or something like that. Maybe if I keep working on it, since I have gotten ideas for it since then, I'll just see where the path takes me.

But Sabre is not a main priority for me anymore. It's something I revisit every now and then. I have developed other original projects since then that incorporate more of my newer interests and those are my primary focus, since the only rules I'm constrained by are my own. Not that I think a fangame has to perfectly follow all of OFF's rules to be in its world, that's ridiculous. There's creative freedom. But you know what I mean. There will always be that part of me that might feel constrained by them.

So to sum it up, while I still will update this blog with Sabre game updates when I have them, I think they will be extremely rare. I'm 20, I'm in college now and a new semester is going to start soon enough. Drawing what I want is also more fun for me than having to make game assets all the time, and game development in general is a time-consuming process. Not that I don't enjoy it when I want to do it, but I feel like for me personally, I need to be in the right mood for it.

So, that's the deal with Sabre! Thanks for reading if you've come this far. My main goal with this post was to put this out there, mainly for myself so people weren't left hanging or wondering. Though I browse around a lot, I'm not very talkative to others on the internet because I'm quite shy and pretty low energy for socialization.

I also want to say that I think I still may be active elsewhere on Tumblr. I have an art blog, @diced-snowflake, that has been sitting empty for several years that I think I may actually start to use. My main platform for the past several years has been Instagram, but I want to see what things are like here on Tumblr too for my art. If you're interested, there may be something on there.

To everyone who is still out there developing fangames, good luck and I hope that developing them brings you just as much joy as it brought me. Create for yourself and just have fun. Only share it with friends if you want to--that doesn't mean your work is any less worthy. You're making it, you're putting your heart into it. That's what makes it worthy.

Anyway, that's all I've got. I hope everyone has a good day, if anyone else sees this! Now I feel like I can finally put this to rest.

[bijouxcarys]

Little Wayward Girl **TEASER**

Let me know your initial thoughts! I'm hoping to get this out soon, but thought I'd give you a little taste :)

Ally was having the absolute time of her life backstage; two roadies had already offered her a drink, which she obviously accepted, and she'd already gelled with multiple people.

I, however, felt uneasy about this whole bet.

How desperate to prove my friend wrong was I to insist that Robert fucking Plant would remember a night with a random girl from four whole years ago?! I spent a majority of the first half of the night mentally slapping myself and trying to figure out a way to get myself out of this situation.

But it proved to be too late as those four well-known rockstars entered the room to an abundance of cheers and applause for yet another electrifying performance.

First came Bonzo. I always remembered him as this big teddy bear, and he maintained that disposition. His hand was quickly occupied by a bottle of San Miguel. Some things never change.

Then came Jonesy. He was nothing but gentle from what I remembered of my brief time with the band. If I understood correctly, it seemed that he steered away somewhat from the sordid escapades derived from post-show adrenaline.

Jimmy had grown his hair out a little more, something I immediately noticed throughout the night. His eyes were laser-focused on the two girls waiting by the door for him, one of which were instantly taken under his wing. She was clearly his for the night. Probably the other one, too, now that I think about it...

I swallowed hard and glanced over at Ally, who was both in awe and anticipation. I can imagine she tackled with two mentalities. The first one being that she was seeing her favourite band up close, and the second itching to be right regarding Robert and I.

Larger than life, he strode in last, blouse open, yet tied across the bare expanse of his stomach. The jeans... God, those jeans. From where I had cowered in the corner, I had a prime view of the full picture. The pure perfection of one Robert Plant.

Heart hammering against my chest, I wished for the moment to pass quickly, knowing that come sundown the next day, my dear brother would be in bed with Ally.

I made no attempt to make myself seen. If he saw me, congratulations to him, but I wasn't going to intentionally put myself in the crossfires of embarrassment. Not that easily.

Ally was far too smug beside me, her mouth angled upwards in a smirk. I looked at her and rolled my eyes.

"Shut up," I mumbled, resorting to biting at my nails to relieve the growing anxiety.

"The moment we've been waiting for..." Ally started dramatically through a sigh. "...You shall be proven wrong, and I shall be between the sheets with H--"

I nudged her with some force, cutting off her provocation. She's so right, though...

My breath completely stilled in my throat when the enigmatic God of a vocalist scanned the room casually. And just like that, his eyes met mine.

@firethatgrewsolow @brownskinsugarplum76 @m-faithfull @chromations ummm idk who else to tag. Let me know if you want to be added into my tag list. Perhaps tag someone who might enjoy this? Idk here you go, I’ll shut up now 🥲