#this was SO FUN TO WRITE

[kingkat12]

prom night (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, angst, mature/dark themes, Roman adores reader so much aghhhh<33, fluff, Roman is bad with words lol, blood, mentions of death, attempted kidnapping, amnesia, Dr. Pryce is scary omg, dead dove do not eat tbh, silly bf Roman because why tf not

summary: going to prom with Roman Godfrey had been a dream of yours for longer than you could remember-- but suddenly, that was the only thing you could remember. seriously. what the fuck happened last weekend, and why is Roman keeping you in the dark about it?

word count: 16,708 (oh my fucking god)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12

a/n: celebrating 900 followers (??? WHAT) with the biggest chapter yet!!! I've spent a month preparing it, and this has been the chapter I've been building up to ever since I started this series... I suggest you read it in one sitting because I intended it to be read that way, (although I know that is a lot to ask!!! not necessary boo), and I'm sorry about everything in advance aghhh😭 I would also like to give special thanks to @mentallyscreamingsincebirth for being such a great support and for guiding my brain through this enormous chapter, THANK YOU LYNDI<3 much much love, ENJOY, and read at ur own risk!!!<333 MWAH

Have you ever thought about death? Of course you have, everyone has-- but have you ever felt it?

Have you felt it lingering in your forearms, like you're pressing them up against a flaming stove? Have you felt it pressing at the sides of your head, waiting for it to cave in on itself? I always thought it would feel like going to sleep; that no matter how you pass, you reach a point where your mind flips over into delirium, and then you feel drowsy until it's over. Yet somehow, I was suddenly convinced it was nothing like that. I was sure that it felt like nothing but pure panic, accompanied by a crippling fear unlike any other. Because it hurt, everything hurt, and I was sure I'd be stuck in an endless loop of hell where I would forever be semi-conscious and in excruciating pain. 

And why?

Because right now, I was sure I was dead. 

That I was done. Deceased. Expired. I was so, so sure, and I had no idea why everything was black, why I couldn't move, or why I felt my lungs freeze over with the inability to breathe. 

It lasted for too long. Way too long. An eternity. 

Up until it felt like a scream was being dragged out of me by force, like someone had grabbed hold of my tongue and tugged me forward-- a bright light shone through my lids before they sprung open in pure panic, and I arched off the bed with a shriek. It felt like I was taking my first breaths again, and I clawed at my chest as my nails dug into the fabric of my shirt, suffocating, suffocating, dying, tearing, tearing, panic, panic, why, where, how?--

"Pryce, do something!" 

"Mr. Godfrey, sit down!--"

"Do something!" 

I was still screaming when my hands were pried off my skin with an annoyed groan, still heaving for air as a man in a white coat now hovered over me. He forced my left eye to open wider with his cold, bony fingers, shining the light directly at my pupil. He was searching for any lack of reaction as I emptied my lungs, crying out in fear; it wasn't until I felt the scent of a familiar cologne fill my body that I started to fight my screams of panic. 

I was sure it was Roman who was now pinning my hands down to the bed-- his indexes were pressing against my wrists, checking my pulse, the classic Godfrey move. He usually only did that when he was trying to make a point about him making my heart race, and that's how I was certain it was him.

Once the doctor finished, my cries had largely quieted down. All that was left was a series of whimpers and shaky breaths. "What's happening?" I struggled to ask, my voice cracking. I saw the doctor scowl at Roman, clearly frustrated by something. My lower lip quivered; why was I here? What was happening? 

Why couldn't I remember anything?

When the doctor spoke, he was still not looking at me; "You're at the Godfrey Institute, getting what is considerably the best care in the world," He moved away, tutting as he sat down on the chair opposite the bed I was lying on. Coming to my senses, my eyes traced the room. The walls were painted an uncomfortably bright hue of white, and I was afraid I'd go blind looking at them for too long. However, the doctor's voice caught my attention once more; "You don't seem to be concussed, but I'll check your reflexes. Have you exhausted your lungs, or must I put you under as well? If you keep screaming and resisting, you will only make things harder for yourself."

"She'll be fine!" Roman barked, letting go of my hands. With swift, nervous steps, he now stood by my side as he stroked through my hair. I could sense his anxiety through the slight tremble in his fingers, and he squeezed my shoulder with his free hand as he spoke to the doctor with a lowered voice, as though I wouldn't hear him if he softened his tone; "She will be, right? Pryce?"

Doctor Pryce rolled his eyes as he looked over at the metal tray beside him, scanning the neat display of medical instruments. "Did you bring this girl to me to question my care, or because you trust that I'm the best?"

"I'm!--"

"I was the one that delivered you into the world, Roman, don't forget that. Your mother trusted me with your life, so you have all the reason to exert some patience and trust me with this very simple task," Pryce picked out his preferred instrument and leaned forward, pressing on a button that made the back of my bed raise. 

I yelped, still trying to catch my breath; "What's happening?" I breathed, hoping to contain the wave of tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. It felt like I had died and come back to earth. "Please, why-- why am I here?"

With one final anxious glance at Pryce, Roman finally looked down at me. It was the first time I had been properly acknowledged. "Hey, you," he said, gently running his fingers through my hair. "We were in a car crash, and you passed out. This is Doctor Pryce, and he's just making sure you didn't faint because of anything serious. You could've also lost consciousness because of shock, fear... Many factors. This is just a precaution."

"Car crash?" I echoed. "What-- Why can't I remember?-- Ow!" 

A panicked cry escaped me, and I looked down to see Pryce with what looked like a hammer, striking the supple area beneath my knee socket. My leg jumped up automatically, and the doctor let out a satisfied hum before he moved on to my other leg. "Miss, do you get enough sleep?" he asked. "On the regular, that is?"

I had never been this disoriented in my life. "I don't-- I don't know?"

With an exasperated sigh, Pryce muttered a simple alright. He sat back down in his chair, now gazing at me with a blank, neutral look. Something told me he had practiced that exact expression for his patients. "You seem to have experienced what is called a situational syncope. You must've gone into a deep state of shock, which caused your blood pressure to drop, ultimately knocking you out. Based on the tests we got done on you when you were unconscious, there seems to be nothing wrong with you," 

I forced down a sob as I squeezed my eyes shut. My body was still frozen with panic. Despite my efforts, I couldn't conjure the memory of the supposed car crash; what was happening to me? "There has to be something wrong!" I cried. "I can't-- I can't remember anything!"

Sighing, Pryce got up, but not without glaring at Roman once more. "You might have a minor case of amnesia. It's most likely short-term and will resolve in twenty-four hours, or it might not," He moved to a nearby table, writing down something on a computer. "It might be time to lay off the nocturnal activities, Roman. It's important that she sleeps."

My face had never been redder. Never. To be told to lay off sex in front of your boyfriend's family doctor? Awful. Not something I recommend anyone else go through. 

However, in true Godfrey fashion, Roman didn't seem to care about that part. "Thank fuck," he said, letting out a relieved breath as he bent down to kiss my forehead. I could sense the ease settling in his body, and it made me wonder when it could transmit to mine as well. "So she's completely fine?"

"Yes," Pryce grumbled, absentmindedly tapping away on his keyboard.

"No internal bleeding, no injuries?--"

"She's fine,"

Roman nodded, and I thought that would be the end of it until he spoke again; "Will she remember... everything?"

My blood ran cold. Something about the way he said those words made me feel like it was ominous. I blinked, staring up at Roman as my heart beat hard in my chest. 

Pryce's clacking stilled. He turned, moving sharply, as his eyes narrowed; "For your sake, I hope not,"

It only took me a second to reach for Roman's hand, grabbing it as fear ran through my veins. "Rome," I echoed, begging him to look at me. I needed to know. It didn't feel like a simple car crash; why was I still shaking? Was this normal? I was terrified that I wouldn't remember anything. "Please, you have to-- you have to tell me what!--"

"Shh, it's okay," Roman cooed, wiping that terrified look off his face in an instant. "Everything is fine, see? The nice doctor says you just need to sleep, so what do you say I drop you off at your place and make sure you sleep well tonight?" 

I could hear Pryce snicker as he got up, gathering what he needed from the room. "The nice doctor," he echoed, shaking his head. Everything he did felt oddly sterile. Everything from the smile to the polite tilt of his head. "Sleep would be the best remedy, yes. And maybe some shopping."

Roman scrunched his nose-- "Shopping?"

Pryce nodded, pointing to my shirt which I had partially clawed up. "Shopping,"

I couldn't imagine I would ever get any redder than this. Why couldn't amnesia take this memory too? I wanted to disappear-- however, when I thought about the black void I had been thrust into before I awoke, I changed my mind. I was happier than ever to be alive. When Pryce left the room, I let out a shaky breath as I locked eyes with Roman; "Rome, please tell me how the fuck we ended up in a!--"

My words were stolen as two large hands grabbed my face, and my favorite pair of lips came crashing down onto mine. Roman was now partially on my bed, rushing his kisses as he pulled me close in sheer desperation. "You had me so scared," he breathed. "So, so--"

Grabbing onto Roman's hair for support, I could only yelp as he practically toppled me, kissing me with urgency. "You can't do that," he begged. "You can't, you-- you can't--" 

I was beyond overwhelmed. Exhausted. Still, I could sense that Roman had almost been as scared as me. "Please, Rome!--"

"What would I have done if you got hurt?" He grabbed my face harder, forcing me to look into his teary eyes when he relented his attack on my lips. "It would've killed me. It would've killed me." The desperation, the panic, was evident in his big, green eyes as they searched mine. 

When would this be over? "I don't even know what happened!" I cried. "I don't remember, and it scares me! What if I won't-- won't remember it?" 

I hoped he would tell me. I hoped Roman would sit me down and tell me in excruciating detail. However, his brows came together and drew upwards in a look of pure pity; "It doesn't matter. Look at it like it's mercy,"

"Mercy?" 

"I'm glad you don't remember," Roman breathed, pressing a passionate kiss to my lips before he leaned his forehead against mine. "I don't want you to remember it... I'm kinda glad you don't. You don't need to remember the bad stuff, right? I only want you to be happy. Happy, safe, and with me. Forever."

Forever. 

I let out a shaky breath which fell against Roman's lips, defeated. It still lingered in my body-- death. Like something really, really bad had happened. 

... Had it?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The air smelled like freshly mown grass although it was growing freely all around us, untamed. The long branches of the willow tree kneeling above us swayed with the breeze, and the leaves rustled with a gentle buzz; it was beautiful to look up at, even in the dark of the night. 

Roman was lying next to me, eyes shut in peace that had only recently settled in his body. His chest rose and fell in slow, calm motions as his brown hair wove into the long strands of the grass. I had an inkling that he was getting comfortable with it now-- with the idea of forever. That I was his for as long as he'd have me. That he had someone to go through life with, after all this time finding solace in fleeting moments of intimacy with the girls that were lucky to be near him at the right moment. 

Roman was unbelievably beautiful. Unreal. 

I still had no idea what happened that day I woke up at the Godfrey Institute a week ago, convinced I had died. It was hard not to think about it, but sleep had done me good-- Doctor Pryce had been right. My memory of the incident hadn't returned, and I had a feeling it never would. Every so often, I would get specs of it when I heard a particularly loud car, or whenever the smell of diesel got very strong from Roman's red jag, but that was the end of it.

However, the whole car crash incident had set Roman off into a weird state of possessiveness. Not one night had passed without him sneaking in through my bedroom window, lying next to me to make sure I wasn't on my phone until three a.m., and that I was getting enough sleep. I had watched Roman doze off into slumber countless times, both next to me and on top of me, and I had loved to stroke his hair and watch him sleep every time. It was the only time I felt he ever got to rest properly. Never ever during the day. Which is why, now that Roman was doing the same for me, I started to feel more at peace with what had happened. With the crash. With what I didn't know. As long as I had Roman, I would be fine, right? I was sure of it now.

Not only had the car crash left Roman and I in a weird state, but my parents as well. They were wary of me needing to get enough sleep and rest, so they had given me a rather strict curfew up until prom night. This curfew also involved not having Roman over as much, meaning we had to get creative-- so here we were, lying next to each other in the grass at his secret hiding place around midnight, where we had previously exchanged our blood. 

"Rome," I whispered, watching the swaying willow branch above me. "You put on an alarm, right? I can't be out for too long, I'm scared my parents will find the pillow concoction we put on my bed and know I'm not home..."

He hummed, his eyes remaining closed-- "We have about thirty minutes until I have to take you back. I'm keeping track of it,"

"You don't seem to be keeping track of anything right now,"

"Nonsense,"

"... You look like you're sleeping,"

"But I'm not, am I?" Roman's eyes met mine, his lashes hanging heavy over the green color of his irises. With a tug at the corners of his lips, he sung a short, mocking line; "I don't want to close my eyes!--"

Oh no. "Rome, don't!--"

"-- I don't want to fall asleep, 'cause I miss you, baby!" His laugh was as melodious as his half-assed attempt at serenading me. 

I snorted, no longer sleepy. This was beyond cringe. "You're an idiot,"

"And yet you're crazy about me," Roman purred, moving closer to me on the grass. The tips of his fingers, which had barely grazed mine a minute ago, were now running along the back of my hand in soft motions. "That says more about you than it says about me."

I turned my hand as I smiled to myself, feeling my chest burn with the warmth I got from being near him. If only he knew I was more than crazy about him. If only he knew. "Yeah, you're right," I mumbled, intertwining our fingers with a content sigh. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

I didn't deem my words to be as heavy as Roman suddenly made them seem-- it was as though the leaves stopped rustling. As though the air no longer smelled like grass, and the only thing I could smell was suddenly only Roman's heavy, expensive perfume. Something stilled. Was it the waves of the water nearby? His eyes softened with his next exhale, pupils rounding out. It was almost as though I could see the pounding of his heart as his chest fell. "I don't know how I ever lived without you in the first place," he confessed. "It kills me that you were so close all this time, and... I didn't notice."

Thinking back at the time when Roman would barely look my way was excruciating, even now. "It doesn't matter--"

"We had chemistry together," he breathed. "You were so close." Roman no longer looked at me, and instead turned his gaze to the hanging branches of the willow tree we were lying beneath. "I used to think I was the center of the universe, y'know? That the world was mine, along with everyone living in it. I thought I was everything I ever needed, that no one else truly mattered except for me, but then..." He cleared his throat, an empty look in his eyes. "This is getting cheesy, isn't it?"

Silly, silly boy. "You were literally singing at me a minute ago, I think I can take you being sweet,"

The small upward tug of Roman's lips lifted an ache in my heart. "The past doesn't matter. But the future does, as long as you're in it with me,"

I love you, I love you, I love you. It was echoing in my head. "Grow old with me, Roman?" I hoped it would come off as a joke. I hoped he'd sense the smile in my words, the lightness in which I proposed the hypothetical. 

But he was so serious. So, so serious, as he turned to meet my eyes. And just for a second, I was scared he'd open his mouth and tell me he couldn't get old-- I had read too much of that upir book. "I don't want to get old," he mumbled. "Old people don't have a lot of sex."

It was impossible not to laugh. "They probably do,"

"... Gross,"

Rolling my eyes, I gave his hand a squeeze. "I'd have sex with you. You'd still be the Roman I lo--" 

Fuck.

Oh, fuck. 

I choked my words with a cough; "This damn grass," I cursed. "I might be allergic..." Gathering courage, I glanced over at Roman as I held my breath. 

He seemed to be holding his too. 

It took longer than expected for any of us to say anything. With small movements, Roman slid his hand up to my wrist, pressing his index against my pulse. 

I cleared my throat, breaking out into a nervous laugh. "Okay, let me clear that up. The coughing made it sound like I was saying something that I wasn't saying."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Why was my throat so dry? "I was gonna say that you'd still be the same Roman I long for."

"Oh..." He seemed both relieved and disappointed. I couldn't read him. It was too dark. "Okay. I'll hold you to it when we're eighty, then."

My heart was still racing. Had I gotten away with that or was he letting me? "So you're basically saying you won't be jumping me when we're old? I'm disappointed. And on top of that, I think you'd still be yourself at eighty, no? Or will you no longer be so nympho when you reach a certain age?"

"... You have a point," Roman's classic smirk was back-- I had never been happier to see it. "I'll always want you, I'm afraid."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what,"

"Are you a hundred percent sure about that, Rome?"

"I'll do you one better. Hundred and one,"

It was impossible not to smile. I loved him so much it hurt; I needed to mend it. "... Even if I turn into a worm?"

The groan he let out blended in with the ringing of the alarm he had put on.

As Roman pulled me up from the grass, I realized how much I loved everything about this night. I loved that he wanted to see me so bad that he was sneaking me out of my room. I loved the feeling of my hand in his, loved the sight of his smile, loved every inch of him. I only wished we could stay this happy for an eternity-- an eternity with him would be so unbelievably nice.

And if Roman loved me too, I'd let him love me forever. 

I'd love him till the day I died, tirelessly, endlessly.

... Even if he was a worm.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

There was a lingering warmth in my body, yet I waited for the other thing to leave. The feeling. The doom. The terror I didn't remember.

And while I waited, prom was a wonderful distraction.

My parents were out of town for the weekend, which allowed us to skip the awkward photos in the hallway that were usually customary for prom. I was sure Roman would've rather died than go through that.

Actually, I was half convinced someone else had told Roman to man up and ask me to go with him, because it seemed like I was getting too much of the good thing recently. It didn't make sense to me that he wanted anything to do with something like this. And for a second, I was convinced I had been right about it all along; when I walked down the stairs of my porch, it was impossible not to smile from ear to ear at the sight of Roman in his tux. He was sitting on the bonnet of his car, smoking a cigarette as always-- 

... Without so much as a reaction to me in my dress?

It felt like my whole body was on fire, like I was one of Roman's cigarettes. My smile faltered as I approached, not saying a word. I held my breath, watching the green of his eyes pierce mine. He didn't blink. He didn't budge. He simply held his cigarette to his lips, exhaling the smoke through his nose. 

Something felt off. I should've known Roman Godfrey wasn't the classic prom-man. "Do you not like it?" I breathed, feeling my confidence collapse as I toyed with the fabric of my dress.

Roman's eyes immediately darted down to my fingers-- "Don't tear at it. I know you like doing that," He held out his cigarette as he scanned me. It took a few seconds too long. With quick steps, he got off of his car; "Get in."

What? "No,"

Roman turned to me, cocking a brow. "No?"

"No," This was nerve-wracking. "You're being weird. Tell me what's wrong, or I turn around and go right back in again."

Visibly taken aback, Roman let his cigarette fall to the ground before he pressed his heel to it. In our moments of intense eye-contact and silence, I could see the way he had styled his hair differently tonight. It wasn't slicked back or messy, which were the two alternatives he always alternated between-- no, it looked like he had put effort into giving it a bit more volume, like something out of an old Hollywood film with James Dean as the lead. I couldn't understand him, where he stood in front of me in his ridiculously expensive tuxedo; it was obvious that he cared about this, so what was happening here?

"Nothing is wrong," Roman finally answered. "I just don't have the words."

"Words for what? What's going on?"

"Nothing is going on," he muttered under his breath. "It just makes me feel stupid."

"What does, Rome?" 

"I... have never been good at finding the right words. I always screw these things up," Frustrated, Roman put his hands in his pockets as he no longer met my gaze. "Saying you look good doesn't feel like enough... and telling you that you look beautiful feels weird, because I don't use that word for anything and that makes it sound rehearsed, so... I'm screwed. I'm looking at you, and I'm blanking. My heart is beating too fast."

Oh.

Oh.

"Take your time," was all I managed to say. I love you regardless was the thing I would have loved to add. 

Roman chewed on his lip, sitting down on the bonnet of his car again. He dared to meet my eyes as he reached for my hand; I took it, ready to take a step forward, before I caught Roman shaking his head. "You'd help me if you did a twirl," he said, a smirk nudging at the corners of his mouth. "Come on, now."

My heart lightened with the giggle that escaped me, and I could only blush as I did as told. 

"There you go," Roman cooed, warmth dotting his cheeks when I faced him again. "I like your dress. You kinda look like a cupcake."

"What? I do not! This is a-line!"

"A what line?"

"No, it's!-- Oh, forget it," Men.

Roman laughed, reaching for my waist to pull me in between his long legs. Softening his grin, he glanced down at my dress; had I not been watching him so intently, I wouldn't have caught the way his eyes subtly rounded out when they met mine. "I never realized how unfair it is,"

I frowned; "What's unfair?"

"You. Looking like this. Making every other girl on the planet look like an afterthought," Roman paused, his smirk softening with something genuine; "And it's not just tonight, y'know? It's everything about you. It's the way you laugh, it's the way you think, it's all that is you, along with how you look at me like I'm not completely messed up. You're just perfect." Roman stilled, his thumbs rubbing circles into the fabric around my waist as his smile turned self-conscious. "Sorry, that probably sounds cheesy as hell... What the fuck is up with me these days?"

If only he knew. If only he saw that I was fighting the welling of tears in my eyes. I love you, I love you, I love you. "As long as you don't start singing again, I'll be fine,"

Roman's smile was soft, and so was the kiss he gently pressed to my collarbone. Everything about the way he was holding me made me blush. "Come on," Roman cooed, a mischievous look shimmering in his eyes. "I can't wait to arrive with the prettiest girl in town. Everyone's gonna hate us even more than they already do, and I need the fuel of their spite and fear to survive."

I rolled my eyes, muffling my laugh against the following kiss. "Okay, Pennywise. Just keep the carnage to a minimum tonight, alright?"

"Deal,"

Just as Roman was about to lean in to kiss me, I remembered something important-- I grabbed his shoulders, watching his eyes widen as I pinned him to his place. "And we need to keep you far away from Brooke Bluebell tonight, by the way,"

"Uh, not that she was on the agenda, but... why?"

"Rumour says she's bought a needle. For revenge, and all,"

Roman let out a laugh of disbelief before it dawned on him that I wasn't joking. "Oh," he breathed, frowning. "Seems like there might be some carnage after all, then."

"No, that's not funny!--"

"Come on, it kinda is!"

"Roman-- ugh, fuck it, let's just go!" I placed a soft kiss to his lips; "Don't say I didn't warn you."

After more back and forth banter, it was finally time to get going. However, as Roman opened the car door for me and I sat down in the seat, I was hit with a major deja vu when he started checking out his hair in the rearview mirror. I knew that he did that every time before starting the car, this wasn't something out of the ordinary-- but for the first time since the incident, I remembered something clearly. 

I remembered just a fragment. A feeling. I had been upset the day of the crash, and so had Roman. Had we fought? 

It was at the tip of my tongue, there was a faint taste of exactly what had happened, and I was about to roll right into the memory when Roman put his hand on my thigh. I looked over at him, my breath high in my chest; he noticed it immediately. "You okay?" he tried.

It was lingering in my forearms, like I was pressing them up against a flaming stove. It pressed at the sides of my head, waiting for it to cave in on itself; death. It felt like a countdown.

Counting down.

Tick.

Tick tick.

I will know soon.

I put my burning hand over Roman's, forcing a smile;

"Never been better," ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Walking around at prom, hand in hand with Roman Godfrey as he talked to a couple of his friends, was only something I had imagined in my wildest dreams. I used to bury my face in my pillow and blush just at the thought of him even looking at me.

Back in those days, I had a specific image in my mind; since I hadn't ever thought I would go to prom with Roman, I imagined I'd be there with someone like Daniel. Someone I didn't like. I don't know, it wasn't too important. However, my date would be the type to not want to dance, and I would be left sitting with him by some table while everyone danced. And this would (of course) be the point where I'd imagine Roman walking up to me, charming, cocky, and high on his sky-high self-esteem, to reach for my hand. He'd ask if I'd like to dance, and I would glare at my date before giving Roman an affirmative yes.

Then we'd dance. Slow. Close. 

And in my dreams, Roman would look me in the eyes and tell me that he had loved me all along, that he would love me and only me for the rest of his life, that he had secretly been pining for me since the day he first saw me, that he was actually planning to propose right now actually, and then the whole prom would stop and gasp in jealousy as he got down on one knee, and then!--

I bit down on my lip, suppressing a laugh at the memory. It seemed so childish, now more than ever. I told myself to excuse my old, stupid daydreams; the mind wanders when you're crazy about someone.

Roman squeezed my hand; "What are you laughing about?"

Fuck. "Oh, just..." I glanced up at him, smiling uncontrollably. Alas, now that Roman was my boyfriend, I didn't need all of that ridiculous stuff. I only needed him by my side, and that'd be enough for me forever. "I just remembered something stupid."

Roman cocked a brow, the green of his eyes shining down on me despite the darkness of the room. "Keen on sharing?"

"Not so much,"

"Alright," he said, tsking. "Pervert."

"Hey!" My cheeks turned a peculiar shade of pink which I hoped wasn't visible beneath the dim lights. Why did he have to say stuff like that while standing next to his friends? Not that they were listening, anyway. Nonetheless, the cheeky look on Roman's face told me everything I needed to know about it. "It's nothing like that!" I tried. "It was actually kind of sweet..."

"Oh, yeah?" Nodding, Roman's hand went to the small of my back, excusing us before he started leading us away from his circle of friends. "Tell me, then."

"It's stupid!" I giggled, my blush deepening with the kiss he pressed to the top of my head as we walked. Giant man. 

Roman rolled his eyes; "Tell me before I spike the punch and get us kicked out," We had now reached the other side of the room, and he turned me around to press my back against the wall. Like this, he was towering over me as always. Just the sight of it made my heart beat harder. 

"It should be illegal," I muttered under my breath, reaching for his tie. Sweet-talking him would hopefully be distraction enough. "You in a suit--"

"Tux,"

"Tux," I didn't want to tell him about my childish dreams about prom. I was aware how stupid it sounded, anyway. I didn't need to give Roman more things to tease me about, did I? "You're very, very handsome."

"Aha," he hummed, unimpressed. "How long would my sentence to be, then?"

"If it was illegal?"

"If it was illegal,"

"Hmm... I was thinking six years and nine months."

Roman bit down on a grin. "Do I spot a subtle sixty-nine reference?"

Yes. "Pervert,"

We shared a laugh as my hands slid down his tie, but my brows drew together when I felt something hard between the top and second button of his shirt. My mind flared red lights-- "Is this what I think it is?" I asked, gazing up at Roman as my eyes rounded out. 

He didn't seem to understand my reaction. "I always wear it," he said, shrugging. "Didn't want to take it off."

"Ah," I suppose it was sweet. That's all it was. It most certainly didn't remind me of my least favorite passage from The Avoidable Vampirism - The Upir;

There are even some upirs that are so assimilated, they can do experiments with blood or carry vials of it with them wherever they go— which is an inclination that should not be encouraged.

Should not be encouraged.

Should not be encouraged.

... Certainly not. 

"I like feeling you close," Roman murmured, his long fingers now running past my waist as the sound of his voice pulled me back into the moment. "I don't like being apart from you, and having your blood with me at all times... feels like I'm carrying a piece of you, which I technically am." He bent down, his soft lips brushing against my ear-- it made my breath hitch. "What do you say we get as close as we can later tonight?" he whispered, a small kiss to my ear following. "Just you and me... And me in you?"

I could only smile. Especially as I spotted Brooke Bluebell and her cheerleader friends by the punch a little further away from us. I was sure my smile started to look rather sinister as my hand went into Roman's hair, pulling him closer as my eyes locked on Brooke's. 

Fucking cheerleader whore. I hated her. I hated everything she represented. And honestly? I couldn't quite remember why. All I knew, was that seeing the jealous look on her face made my heart race with pride and joy.

... Something told me that Roman and I deserved each other. We were both evil in our own ways. 

"That sounds perfect," I purred, leaning my head against the wall as Roman pressed soft kisses to my neck. "My parents aren't home, so..." I could feel him smiling against my skin at the reminder. It was such an exhilarating feeling. Especially when I knew Brooke was watching. 

"Great," Roman murmured, pulling away to look down at me with a mischievous look shimmering in his green eyes. "Can't wait to fold you and hear you whimper."

My blush deepened in record time; "Pervert,"

Roman only grinned. I was sure he was gonna say something much, much worse, something that would've made my toes curl on the spot if they weren't currently pressed against the front of my slightly uncomfortable heels, if one of the prom chaperones hadn't started walking towards us with hasty steps and a grumpy look on his face. It hit me that we were probably standing too close for his liking, and that he was there to make sure the students were being appropriate, which... let's face it, we weren't. 

I shook my head with panic as Roman opened his mouth to speak, and he seemed to catch onto what was happening rather quickly. With a quick nod, he took a long step away from me and held his hands up with a cheeky grin as the strict-looking chaperone approached. "Yes, officer?"

The chaperone sighed, passing fed-up glances between the two of us. I wondered where I had seen this man before. He was certainly someone's father who I had seen around drop-off hours. "I'm not the police," he grumbled. "You can put your hands down, Godfrey--"

"I invoke the fourth amendment!" Roman chimed in, winking at me. It was impossible not to smile.

The chaperone proceeded to groan, shaking his head; "Just-- no touching, okay?"

"Of... anything?"

"You can hold her hand, Godfrey, but anything else--"

"Oh, so it applies to things like... if I touch the wall?" Comically slow, Roman pressed his finger to the wall, hissing as though he was being burned by the law. "I'm a man of many crimes, as you see, officer!" He lowered his voice to a whisper; "I even touched the punch earlier! Actually, now that I think about it, I think I deserve to be kicked out... Can't believe I have allowed myself to commit such atrocities." With one last pout, Roman held his hands out to the chaperone, bowing his head in defeat. "Take me, oh, lead me away, kind sir! I will serve my time, and I will do my due diligence!--"

"Enough!" The chaperone barked. "As long as you didn't spike the goddamn punch, you're free to go!"

And with that, Roman's gig was up. He bit down hard on his lip to suppress his smirk, not to great success. "I wouldn't dare to, officer," he cooed, reaching for my hand in the smoothest manner known to man. 

The chaperone rolled his eyes, probably rethinking all his life choices, as Roman led me away with the both of us trying not to topple over from the laughter we were suppressing. 

"You're crazy," I said, squeezing his hand. I was worried my eyes had formed hearts. 

Roman shrugged, glancing down at me with a knowing smile. "And you're crazy about me," he murmured. "But, speaking of crazy..." He raised our hands, making me do a little twirl as I giggled. When I faced him again, Roman wrapped his arms around me as he glanced over at the punch not too far away from us; "What do you say actually spike it?"

"... What?" 

"It could be smart," he purred, swaying with me a little on the dance floor. "Brooke and her girls have been drinking it all night, and they just walked away... Maybe if they all get drunk off their asses when they come back, they won't be able to take their needle-revenge on me?" 

Roman was right. We had kept a bit of an eye on them all night, just to make sure they were at a safe distance at all times. It was a fun game, if I were to be honest, but... Roman was right. It was an unusual occurrence that he was, so I couldn't help but smile as I felt myself get convinced. 

"Fuck it,"

What ensued, were three nerve-wracking minutes at the table with the large punch-bowl. I stood in front of Roman, blocking the view of any possible chaperones as he skillfully got a silver flask out of the pocket of his jacket, and we spent a good amount of time positioning ourselves to make it all look casual, as though we weren't pouring straight vodka into the punch. Why Roman had any on him in the first place was a conversation for another time.

The second we saw Brooke and the cheerleaders approaching again, I felt my breath hitch-- had we made it or were we about to get caught?

However, Roman's timing was impeccable. With a smooth slither of his hand down to mine, he pulled me back to the dance floor, as though it was the most natural thing in the world to be escaping the scene of the crime at this pace. 

And suddenly, it felt like I had entered that silly dream of mine. Cause now, we were dancing. Slow. Close. The remnants of our silly escapade were visible across our lips, corners pulling up into knowing smiles as we held each other close. Roman's cologne was alluring as always, and so were his big, green eyes; I could see everything now. The scar on his right cheek, the way his pupils practically pulsated at the sight of me, the way he was drinking me in, the beautiful upturn of his nose, all to the way his warm breath fell against my cheek.

Roman's long, slender fingers intertwined with mine as his other hand rested at the small of my back; it was perfect. Better than I could've ever imagined it. It was intoxicating. Deadly, in the best of ways. 

If I were to say anything, now would be the moment. If I were to say the words that I had longed to say, now was the time. All I could hear was the sweet sound of Roman's breath, the dimmed shuffling of the tulle of my dress, and the mellow remnants of the slow song playing in the background. "Rome," I breathed. "There's something I need to tell you." My heart had never beat harder in my life, I was sure of it now.

I was sure of it.

Roman let out a short hum, lovingly nudging his nose against mine. "I need to tell you something too,"

The more I thought about the beating of my heart, the more I was sure it was going to beat its way up my throat. "Yeah?" I tried. Breathless. Breathless. 

"Yeah," Roman closed his eyes, gently pulling me closer. "But this might not be the place to tell you."

"I beg to differ," Something told me all my dreams were coming true in one go. If he was gonna say what I thought he was gonna say-- "There might never be a better moment than right here, right now." Please. Please. I wanted to beg him to say it first, if he wanted to say those three words at all. 

It felt like the air was a tissue. A tissue falling into me, which was pulled out with Roman's next intake of air. Every breath felt sharp, yet exhilarating, yet draining, yet filling, yet emptying.

"Not here," he whispered. "You'd have a heart attack."

It felt like I was about to have one anyway. "I doubt it," God, I was about to spill, wasn't I? "What if I go first?"

Roman's brows drew together as he pulled away just a centimeter or two, looking more confused than ever. "What?"

My mouth pulled into a line. Was I reading this wrong or was this one of those situations where I just had to grow a pair of balls on the spot and walk on the burning charcoal? "Like... if you're saying what I think you want to say?"

"And what do you think I want to say?"

"... Uhm," It hit me that my mouth had never been drier. Could I do this? Should I do this? "The... thing?"

"What thing?"

"That you, y'know... That you--"

"That I what?" Roman's words were insistent, rushed. It almost scared me into silence. "Baby?"

My lower lip trembled as I gathered the courage to let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. This was my sign to retreat. With a defeated sigh, my eyes shied away from his as my cheeks burned. "Forget it,"

"But..." Roman looked beyond lost. "Okay, I feel like I'm messing things up here. Let's start again."

"Start again?--"

"Start again," he insisted, his green eyes burning into mine as I dared to meet them again. "You were gonna tell me something."

Fuck no. Now, I was sure that'd be a fate worse than death. "I-- I don't know, I'm a little lost now, could we just forget?--"

My nervous ramble was interrupted by a loud groan from Roman. At first, my eyes widened at his weird reaction to me stumbling over my words, all until I realized his phone was vibrating in his pocket. Thankfully, the song in the background wasn't so quiet and slow anymore, and nobody around us seemed to mind. "I'm so sorry," he breathed, letting go of my hand to fish out his phone. "This is fucking ridiculous, who in their right mind is calling at this time of night?!--" 

Roman's anger came to a halt as he saw who was calling him. I was praying to all the Gods I could think of at the moment that it wasn't Letha. 

"It's Peter," he said, eyes rounding out. "I haven't gotten a hold of him in a while, I-- will you kill me if I take this?"

I let out a sigh. Typical. I suppose some things simply remain a dream. "No problem," My ass. 

"I'm sorry," Roman tried, placing two fingers beneath my chin to tilt my head up, placing an apologetic kiss to my lips. It was quick, hurried-- something told me I'd remember it. "I will be right back, and then you're gonna tell me that thing, okay? I'm dying to know. Dying."

"Sure," 

"Just-- meet me by the door leading to the hallway, okay? Not the exit, not the one leading outside, but the--"

"Hallway, yeah. I got it,"

The look on Roman's face told me he was genuinely sorry. That was a consolation, at least. "We're gonna talk, I promise. I really need to tell you what I wanted to say,"

I swear, if he ended up telling me he was getting a new car instead of telling me he was in love with me, I'd wack him with the first heavy purse I'd find. "Go, Rome,"

Roman disappeared from the crowd rather quickly, making his way outside with hurried steps, leaving me alone and frustrated on the dance floor. Muttering curse words under my breath, I waddled to the door leading to the hallway, leaning against the wall next to it with a disappointed sigh. The momentum of that whole conversation had left me a bit of a panting mess, and my heart had yet to slow down. I wondered how I was supposed to get out of telling him that I loved him. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl!

However, as I scoured my brain for something else to say, I felt the familiar smell of overly-sweet perfume fill my nostrils.

I stiffened in fear. 

Oh no.

My mouth dried in record time as Daniel approached me, his stride calm and calculated. It was odd to see him out of his blue varsity jacket, yet he hadn't disappointed; his tux was blue too. The more I kept thinking about the color blue, the more I thought about the ocean, and the more I thought about the ocean, the more clearly I saw myself holding Daniel's head underwater until he drowned. 

Daniel's smirk was nastier than ever. I couldn't believe I ever thought it was cute. "There you are," he purred, getting too close for my comfort. "You look like you're having the time of your life, as always."

I snorted. "Well, what do you expect of a brainless slut, as you so poetically called me? You've always had a way with words,"

"Damn," Daniel mumbled, pulling his hands into his pockets as he chuckled. "Did I really say that?"

"Yep," Asshole.

He nodded; "Ah... It seems you remember that night more than I do, then," Daniel's perfume had now infiltrated both my nose and my will to live. If only I could melt into a puddle on the floor and become immaterial-- that would've been mercy enough. 

"I bet you haven't come here to apologize, am I correct?" I asked. 

Daniel shrugged, amused. "I was actually coming here to ask you for an apology,"

"Me?! For what?" He never failed to say outrageous things, I could give him credit for that much. 

However, Daniel seemed taken aback by my response. "Are you really going to act like nothing happened?" 

"What?! Are you talking about you and I those thousands of years ago?--"

"No," Daniel's face fell. "I'm talking about what happened last weekend." 

Something was awfully wrong. My intuition made the hair at the back of my neck stand up to the sky, and I realized I was pressing myself up against the wall. "Last weekend?" I mumbled. What did I do last weekend? I couldn't remember. All I could remember from last weekend was waking up at the Godfrey Institute because of the car crash--

Wait.

Daniel took a step forward; "I've been waiting for you to get away from that boyfriend of yours for a while," he said, his words low and threatening. "Cause you and I are gonna go have a little talk, aren't we?"

"About what?" My voice came out frail, scared, as my breath continued to catch in my throat. For a second, my attention darted to the person coming out through the door to the hallway, and it reminded me that I was in a room filled with people. Roman was coming back any time now, too. Nothing could happen to me. "I don't know what you're--" 

And then it happened. Daniel stepped forward with speed I didn't know he had in him, and he jammed his foot between the door as he grabbed me with strength I couldn't fight. He clasped his hand over my mouth as I tried to fight him off, yet to no avail-- it didn't take many seconds before he managed to get me through the door, dragging me down the hallway and away from the party. 

I let out a cry against Daniel's palm as my heart raced. Biting him didn't work, as my teeth barely grazed his skin-- I tried to dig my nails into him, yet I didn't manage to reach any exposed skin. The grip he had around me was crushing, and I knew my ribs would ache for days to come. 

"We're gonna have a real nice talk," Daniel hissed into my ear. It was disgusting to have him so near, repulsing. His breath was unsteady as he spat his words, yet there was an exhilarated tone to his voice, like he was getting the biggest kick in the world out of this. "And I'm gonna let you go in one piece if you stop-- stop resisting!" 

Daniel managed to drag me down the hall and around the corner before he threw me down. I hit the ground with a hard thud, wincing as I tried to get up with my heart threatening to beat out of my ears. However, Daniel bent down and grabbed a fistful of my hair, twisting me to look at him as I cried out in pain, eyes watery with tears as I met his angry blue eyes. I tried to drive my nails into his hand, yet he only tightened his fist in my hair-- the pain was blinding. 

"Your spoiled brat of a boyfriend won't even pay for the damages," Daniel hissed in my face. His breath was warm, but in the most unpleasant way; it made me squirm as a tear spilled down my cheek. "Not a cent! The fucking Godfrey lawyers are blocking everything my family could've ever gotten as a compensation!"

I didn't manage to kick him away, no matter how hard I tried. "For a car?!" I yelled. "For a fucking car, Daniel?! Let me go!--"

"It's not about the car!" Daniel shouted, a few drops of spit landing on my face as I grimaced. "It's about the person driving it, you psycho!" 

"I don't-- Fuck!" It was impossible not to curse at the agony. It didn't help that he was now dragging my head backwards, making me wonder whether he'd snap my neck. Would he? Would he actually? "I don't remember anything! I don't-- I don't fucking know! Were you in it?!"

This only seemed to anger him further, and Daniel proceeded to bend down next to me to properly get up in my face. I wondered whether he saw how clumpy my mascara was getting from the heavy tears weighing down on my lashes. I wondered whether he perhaps was hard right now from staring at the terrified look on my face. I wondered if he'd be sadistic enough to shove his dick down my throat if he was. These thoughts only made me panic more, yet I felt my body going limp from the pain; my hands were still fighting. I was still trying. There was no way I'd give up, but it also felt like there was no way for me to win.

"Not a single thing?" Daniel hissed, fury burning in his eyes. "You don't remember how you and your prick boyfriend left my father bleeding in his car? You don't remember how he swerved off the road and got the front of his car completely smashed in?!"

The more I tried to conjure the image, the more the feeling of all-taking panic and dread infiltrated my veins. I tried to claw his hands out of my hair, my nails digging into his skin, suffocating, suffocating, dying, tearing, tearing, panic, panic, why, where, how?--

My current state unlocked the one I had been in on the day of the crash. 

And with the panic, I remembered everything. 

Tick. 

Tick tick.

I could almost hear Roman's voice. 

Tick tick tick.

Right now, I was there.

I was living through it again.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The sun was blinding, although the air was cold. I hurried down the steps of the school that day, running to Roman.

"Where were you?"

I was confused. "I was just!--"

"I've been waiting here for, like, ten minutes!" Roman hissed, getting up from the bonnet of his car. He was in the middle of what I could only call a fit of fury, and his hands were flying as he marched towards me with heavy, angry steps; "Get in the fucking car!" He grabbed a hold of my arm, forcefully pulling me toward him.

I let out a squeal of shock, yet I didn't resist. It was impossible not to jump when he put me in the passenger seat and slammed the door behind me. "What the hell, Roman? What's gotten into you today?!" 

When he got in the driver's seat, he didn't waste any time turning the engine on. "I don't like you lingering in math class," he grumbled, fixing his hair in the rearview mirror. Typical. If Roman had been a woman, he'd have been the type to get extensions and acrylic nails; I was sure of it, with how obsessed he was with his looks. "I don't need you fraternizing any more with the enemy than you already have."

"The enemy?-- Are we talking about Letha?!"

"Yes!" he barked, driving out of the school parking lot with a little too much speed. Had he not been the son of Olivia Godfrey, I was convinced he'd have about a dozen parking tickets for this type of driving. 

"Roman, are you serious right now?!"

"Dead serious,"

"You're being crazy!"

That was it for Roman, who immediately started yelling; "Don't fucking talk to me about crazy! You wanna see real crazy?! Let me crash the car and laugh as we bleed out on the side of the road, then you'll see that I'm acting more than reasonably!"

Instinctively, I reached for the handle of the car door. My breath was stuck in a loop in my chest, too thick to pass my trachea. "Please stop shouting," I echoed. "You're scaring me."

Roman's ears were red with anger. I used to think it was a cute trait of his, all until he threatened to kill us both in this vehicle. However, at the frail sound of my voice, he glanced at me for a second or two as he leaned one arm on the rolled-down car window; his big, green eyes rounded out with the realization, with the weight of his words. "I'm not--" He cleared his throat, returning his gaze to the road. "I'm not being serious. I wouldn't actually do that, you know me."

I could see the guilt settling in the lines of his brows coming together, yet my breath had yet to escape me; it was hard to think while being suffocated. "Stop the car,"

"Baby, I'm about to get on the highway!--"

"-- Stop the fucking car!"

Roman's anger returned as he struck the steering wheel, ignoring the way I jumped; "Fine!" With the speed he was driving at, it didn't take long before he managed to park by the road. He turned to me with a fed-up look in his eyes, one that brought my blood to a boil. It only got worse with the next words rolling off his tongue; "Christ, woman, what is it?" 

For the first time in my life, I hoped I'd get superpowers and lazer-blast his stupid head off. Watch it blow and fly away in chunks, with his blood splattering all over the car. I bet it was the same dark-red color as his beloved Jaguar. Without saying a word, knowing I'd only spew profanities at him if I stayed, I made my way out of the car despite there not being a walkable road in sight.

"Hey-- Come on!" Roman yelled, watching as I started walking away on the side of the road. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

I shivered with the incoming breeze. "Far away from you!" Pissed out of my mind, I wrapped myself tightly in my jacket and ignored the sight of a car passing by me at full speed. 

Roman got out of the car with haste, following me with urgency in his steps. "I'm not gonna drive us into a tree, I was just trying to make a point!" he yelled, dragging his hands through his hair to make sure his hairstyle was preserved in the wind. "Baby, please, come back here!--"

"It's not about that!" I yelled back, turning around to face him. Now, there were only a couple of meters between us as we gazed at each other, one with remorse, one with fury. "You say that you trust me, and then you explode when I come back a few minutes late from my class with Letha!"

"Well, of course I'm!--"

"No!" I barked, clenching my fists. "You've been acting so damn weird ever since the day we exchanged the ancient blood capsules, or whatever the fuck they are! You're being erratic! Are you still on cocaine, maybe? Have you relapsed?"

Roman's mouth opened and closed, offended. "I'm not on drugs!" he shouted, flailing his hands to make his point. "I'm not crazy!" 

"Rome, you can tell me!" It felt as though my heart was beating out of my chest, and I pressed my hands to the thumping motions of it. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes; this whole week with Roman had been so weird, intense, and it had all come down to this. All this pain, all these emotions. "I'm your girlfriend, I care about you more than anything else in the world, you can tell me if you're back to!--"

"I'm not on drugs! I'm not crazy!" He was chanting it to himself now. 

"I can get you the help you need, Rome, please!--"

"I'm not!" With the last boom of his voice, Roman seemed to grow taller on the spot. I was sure I was imagining the way his pupils dilated, the way his jaw twitched, and how he genuinely seemed to be growing an inch or two on the spot, as though he was about to pounce on me. 

Was I maybe tired? That had to be it. After math class, my brain was always fried, anyway. Nonetheless, my breath hitched in my chest as I took a step back in blinding fear-- yet what I thought was a step back, was more of a step to the left. I didn't have much control over my body as my hands trembled, paralyzed at the sight before me. Roman didn't look like himself. It was him, I was sure it was the man I loved, yet something was so terribly off. 

I hadn't realized I was standing in the road.

I was frozen to my spot.

I couldn't move. 

And as the sound of a car honking repeatedly hit my ears, I saw nothing but the way Roman's pupils shrunk in an instant. Sheer panic filled his eyes. I barely registered how he got to me, but it took him less than a second when it should've taken him at least three. 

Roman was too late, yet exactly on time-- it felt like a breeze wrapped itself around me with the swiftness of light, and before I knew it, I screamed as I was lifted off the ground and swept up in his arms. Too scared to register where we were, I only felt the prickling of grass in my hair as I soon heard a crash, a bang, and an alarm going off. 

I held onto Roman's strong body for dear life as my high-pitched screams refused to subside, and tears welled up in my eyes which were squeezed shut in fear. He had wrapped himself around me in a protective hold and made sure I had landed on top of him in the grass by the road, a little too far from where we should've naturally landed, and Roman clutched onto the fabric of my jacket as he tried to shake me out of my shock. 

It didn't work. My throat was getting sore, and I was trembling like a wet, abandoned kitten. 

"Are you hurt?" Roman called out. "Hey, are you hurt?!"

With my next sob, the words came rushing out; "N-No!" 

He let out a sigh of relief as he pressed me tighter to his chest, now stroking the back of my head and kissing my teary cheeks. "You're alright. It's okay, I'm here, you're alright," he cooed, gently rolling me down to the grass beside him. 

I didn't want to let him go. I held onto his hair like a newborn, sobbing. "I'm sorry! I-I'm so, so-- so sorry!--"

"Shh, it's okay," Roman kissed my lips which were salty with tears. "It's not your fault, it's okay. Try to breathe, alright?"

I would've stayed like that, horrified and shell-shocked at our near meet with death, had I not heard pained groans in the distance. I dared to open my eyes, and immediately saw the cloud of smoke coming from the car with the peeping noise. There was a man groaning in pain, and his body was splayed over the steering wheel. And just as I didn't think it could get any worse, I saw the indent of a footprint in the car door-- 

My shaking subsided as I rose from the grass, sitting up in a zombie-like state. My eyes refused to leave the image before me. 

Had Roman... kicked the car away?

Had he kicked a car coming our way at about a hundred kilometers an hour?

Before I could ponder it any longer, Roman grabbed my chin with the gentlest touch known to man and turned me to him. He didn't have a single scratch on him. Shouldn't he be gasping in pain at the blow of landing on his back with me on top of him? His eyes were round, worried, as he scanned me for any injuries. "How does your head feel? Are you dizzy? You didn't hit your head, did you?"

"No," I breathed. "Roman, the car--"

"Fuck that for a second, do I need to take you to a hospital?" The look in his eyes quickly went from worried to crazed, like he was angry that I was choosing to have sympathy for the person in the car instead of caring about myself first. 

I blinked. Once. Twice. "Roman?"

"Yes?"

"The guy in there might be dead. Or dying," 

"I know," he echoed. "But he might also be bleeding."

"Exactly," With shaky steps, I tried to raise myself to the ground. The beeping of the car was driving me mad with guilt and worry. "He might be bleeding, so we need to--"

"Call an ambulance, I know," 

"No, we need to check if he's!--"

"Bleeding? Dying? Yeah, I can't," Roman grabbed my hand, forcing me to look into his eyes. They were round with a look I hadn't seen before, like he was trying to convey something I'd hopefully understand. "I shouldn't go near it when it's that much fresh blood." He squeezed my fingers before he brought them to his lips, kissing my knuckles. "And you're about to faint."

"... What?" 

"You have about five seconds,"

"How do you?--"

"I'm not crazy," Roman said, an end statement. "I'll make sure you won't remember most of this, but trust me. I'll take care of it."

The worst thing was that he was right. I couldn't do anything to stop it when I started seeing white spots, and I let out a panicked yell. It felt like my head was caving into itself; that was a feeling that would stay with me. I covered my ears before I realized I couldn't feel my toes, and just as I went down, Roman went up to catch me in his arms.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

And as I faded out of the memory, it took longer than expected to snap out of it.

I was done.

Done.

I was so, so sure, and I had no idea why everything was black, why I couldn't move, why I felt my lungs freeze over with the inability to breathe.

It lasted for too long. Way too long. An eternity. 

Again.

Up until it felt like a scream was being dragged out of me by force, again, like someone had grabbed a hold of my tongue and tugged me forward, again-- the bright lights of the school hallway shone through my lids before they sprung open in pure panic, and I arched off the ground with a gasp for air.

It felt like I was taking my first breaths again, or like I had been drowning, all over again. I clawed at my hands, my nails digging into the fabric of my dress, suffocating, suffocating, dying, tearing, tearing, panic, panic, why, where, how, again?—

There was a release. I no longer felt like my neck was about to snap, and there was no longer pressure on my scalp as I was released from Daniel's grip on my hair. My body fell limp against the floor as I heard a loud thud to my right along with a shrill cry of pain. 

As I slowly came back to my senses, I realized that Daniel was being repeatedly punched against the lockers by none other than Roman Godfrey. There was no way for him to fight off the repeated attacks, no way at all, as Roman's fist landed blow after blow with no mercy.

"Rome," I wheezed, coughing and wincing as I tried to get up from the floor. I barely had any power in my body anymore-- it didn't work.

The sound of his nickname had Roman letting go of Daniel in an instant, who fell limp to the floor with a cry of pain. Roman looked completely out of it; his green eyes were wild with fury, worry, and an untameable thirst for revenge. I hadn't seen him like this before, so possessed. 

He opened his mouth to say something, yet Daniel let out a wail; "He can't even walk anymore, Godfrey! You fuckers left my father in a coma, and when he woke up, he was fucking paralyzed from the neck down!" 

My head was pounding. This couldn't be true. This was a nightmare.

"You ruined his life!" Daniel yelled, tears spilling down his cheeks as he tried to get up. "And you ruined mine! You took my father from me, and he will never be the same again!"

Roman took several deep breaths. It was clear that he wanted to beat Daniel to a pulp, yet he was holding back. "You think I wanted any of that?" he tried, balling his fists. "Accidents happen all the fucking time!--"

"He says you kicked the car!" Daniel shouted. His voice was shaking. Profusely. It dawned on me how scared he truly looked. "That you-- you kicked it off the road!"

Roman's fists remained clenched. "Did you maybe have too much of the punch?" he asked, attempting to incorporate a calm tone. "You can't possibly be hearing yourself now, Goldman. Explain how I'm supposed to have kicked away a car coming at me at full speed?"

Daniel's lower lip trembled as it caught a few of his tears. "Everyone knows something's wrong with you, Godfrey. It's just a matter of time until someone figures out your secret," A beat. A snarl. "You're a freak."

There was a long pause. Roman was so furious that he could only glare. I could see the way his jaw clenched and how his hands were now balled so tightly they were shaking. 

Daniel caught onto it. Despite looking scared out of his mind, tears still staining his cheeks, he conjured a victorious smile which only confused me further. "You gonna hit me again? You gonna beat me to a pulp in front of your girl?" He nodded towards me, a mocking laugh following as his eyes shone with evil glee.

Roman's eye twitched. I held my breath. 

"You think she'll stay with you once she knows what you're capable of? You think she'll still be yours?" Daniel wiped his nose, staring up at Roman through his brows with his vicious eyes. "You and I are one and the same. The way she looks at me, the hate, the disgust? You're going to know exactly how I feel."

"No," Roman hissed, breathless. "I'm nothing like you," 

"Oh yeah? Do you really believe that?" 

"You're scum!--"

"And you're a fucking sadist, just like me!" Daniel didn't even try to wipe the grin off his beaten face. He simply sighed as he rested his head against the lockers, closing his eyes as though he was reliving his best day; "Bet you would've killed to see the look she had in her eyes when I nearly snapped her neck in half, just before you came... The tears, the fear. She has these pretty whimpers when she's in pain, y'know?" Daniel opened his eyes, staring up at Roman through his brows. "Are you going to let me get away with that?"

I couldn't stay quiet anymore; the panicked cry I let out was unlike anything I ever had before. "No, don't listen to him!--"

"I would've left her here for you to find, just like what you two did to my father!" Daniel chanted. "I would've ruined her, and it would've been all your fault, Godfrey!"

That was it. It was over. I knew it the second those words filled the hallway. His fault. 

Roman snapped. He yelled out in fury, and his hands flew to Daniel's neck where he was on the floor, crushing his windpipes along with any hope for breaths or protests. The look in Roman's eyes was too wild, too uncontrolled, too unstable for my liking-- he looked like he was two seconds away from snapping his neck like a twig, just like what Daniel would've done to me.

"Stop it!" I screamed, terror freezing me to my spot. "Stop it, Roman, stop!--"

"Do-- it!" Daniel wheezed, grinning. "Show her-- what a monster you are!"

My heart was pounding in my ears. No, no, no!

Roman's voice boomed throughout the hallway; "I will break your fucking hands if you touch her again, do you hear me?!"

The amusement in Daniel's eyes quickly disintegrated into abject horror. It was the lack of air. This was the moment he realized one very crucial detail; that all his taunting, all his encouragement, could actually get him very, very badly hurt. "W-Wait--"

"Do you hear me?!"

"Y-Yes!--"

"I will tear you apart!" Roman yelled, tightening his grip. "Is that what you want?!"

Daniel's face was turning a peculiar shade of purple as panic settled in his body. His hands went to Roman's, clawing at them, but to no avail. It was essentially a match he couldn't ever hope to win. It would've been impossible. Roman was too strong, too quick, too sharp-- Daniel didn't stand a chance.

I didn't think it could yet worse, yet somehow it did. In a moment which shouldn't have been possible, not so easily, Roman dragged Daniel's sputtering body up along the locker, lifting him from the ground with no exertion or effort. It made me gasp as I propped myself up from the floor, tears rushing down my cheeks as I watched the scene before me, scared into silence.

When Daniel's legs were dangling off the floor, I knew he had a few seconds before he was out. It was clear in the way his eyes started bulging and how his hands fell limp by his sides. 

Roman's last words were chilling; "Let me show you how much of a monster I can be,"

Daniel let out a short, defeated wheeze. Had he not been choking, it would've been a laugh. He had won, but now he had to pay the price. He squeezed his eyes shut with his last efforts, ready for the beating of his life, all until--

"No, that's enough!" I cried, exhausted by the terror. "Roman, enough!"

It was as though something changed in Roman at the sound of my voice, and the veins were no longer bulging from his hands as he realized the weight of what he had been about to do. With that, he let go of Daniel, who collapsed down along the lockers for the second time tonight; air rushed to his lungs with massive gulps, and his face was no longer purple from the blood rushing to his face.

Now that I remembered everything from the day of the crash, I saw the similarities. The way Roman seemed somewhat taller, how unnaturally wide his pupils dilated, and the way his jaw twitched. 

For the first time, I was seeing him for what he truly might be.

For what he... was. 

Upirism lives beneath their skin, scratches at their teeth, and corrupts their minds through dark urges in constant attempts to drive them to the edge of genesis. Do you suspect you are a upir, or do you recognize a darkness in your loved ones? 

I do.

I do.

Gulping, I finally found the courage and strength to get off the floor. My hands were shaking, and so were my knees-- I was sure my mascara had stained my cheeks at this point, and I felt more breathless than ever as I faced the man I loved. 

What made everything worse, was that Roman looked more beautiful than ever. Hair disheveled, broad shoulders raising with every shaky breath, lips parted. The tux only added to the sight-- he was perfect. Despite the sleeves of his jacket being rolled up, and a part of his shirt being untucked from his pants, he was perfect, and he always would be. His round, green eyes were barely green with how big his pupils were, pulsing with adrenaline; "Are you okay?" he asked, taking a step forward and away from Daniel. "Are you hurt? You were practically unconscious when I came--" 

Roman's words came to a halt when he saw how quickly I took a step back.

My breath was stuck in my chest. I couldn't speak. 

"You look scared. Don't be," he tried. "He's fine, see?" Roman turned around to face Daniel's body, where he lay limp and barely conscious, and proceeded to shortly kick him. 

It made me gasp, clasping my hand over my mouth as Daniel let out a pained whimper. My stomach felt uneasy-- I really didn't want to throw up here.

When Roman saw my horror, he immediately took a step away from Daniel. It hadn't yet dawned on him why I was so scared. "I'm so sorry about this," he said. "I'm sorry I stepped away. I should've never left your side."

I tried to speak, yet nothing would come out. Only tears rushed from my system, peaking at my chin before dripping down to the floor. 

Suddenly, there was a loud cheer from down the hall, a reminder of the prom going on just a door away. It made me jump, frozen in fear.

It was clear that Roman found it to be ironic, and he alternated between glancing down the hall and looking at me. "You still look good," he mumbled, a trying smile tugging at the corners of his perfect lips. Those perfect, plush lips that used to softly press against mine. Was he hoping we could go back inside and act like nothing had happened? "I have a comb you can use, if you want? The mascara is easy to wipe away, I think, and I bet there'll be no one in the restroom, so we can both go and fix ourselves and--"

When he took another step forward, I took another step back.

Roman stilled. His eyes softened with hurt. "Baby,"

I shook my head. That was the only thing I could do.

"Didn't you hear what he was saying? He wanted to-- wanted to do all these awful things to you, I had to do this,"

I couldn't breathe. 

Roman insisted; "I was just protecting you," Despite his calm tone, I spotted the slight shake he had to his hands. "Don't think about all that bullshit he said, okay? He's not in his right mind, he's clearly insane!--"

"His dad, Roman!" My ability to speak returned to me with my growing frustration.

"-- Was a very sad, tragic thing, yes! I'm not denying it!" With the next step Roman took, I stayed in place. He let out a string of controlled, short breaths, trying to calm himself down. "But he didn't have to come after you. I would've given him the money he needed, but it's my mom who controls the assets. All our dear Daniel had to do, was to talk to me. No one had to get hurt."

I squeezed my eyes shut, yet my tears still fell past my lashes. 

Roman let out a sigh which resembled a soft hum. "All that matters is that you're okay. That's all that matters. To me, you're all that matters,"

As his big hands framed my face, holding me when he finally got close enough, I still didn't open my eyes. I couldn't. I was scared out of my mind. Roman's touch was no longer a comfort-- it was chilling to know that they were choking someone less than a minute ago. 

"Are you scared?" he whispered, worry coating his deep voice. "You don't have to be scared of me, I'm not-- I'm not some monster."

I couldn't believe him. His words echoed in my head. Let me show you how much of a monster I can be. 

Let me show you.

"I'm not," Roman insisted. He didn't sound like he believed it much himself. "I'm all yours, only yours. That's all I am, and that's all that I ever will be. You need to know that."

Let me show you.

"Please look at me," 

Let me show you.

"Please," he begged. "I-- I've made some mistakes, but I'm still your Roman. Can't you stomach it anymore? Is me wanting to protect you repulsive to you?" 

I shook my head; not at all. My hands found his chest, feeling it raise against my palms. I used to lay there. Fall asleep there, listening to his beating heart. 

"What did you want me to do, then?" Roman whispered. "You're my everything. You're everything. I couldn't let him get away with doing all of that, I-- I couldn't. I'm sorry if it scared you, I'm sorry you had to see me like that, and I'm so sorry I ever left... I should've stayed with you. I'm a fool. I should've stayed and heard what you wanted to tell me."

I didn't need to look at him to know he was crying, now. His voice was breaking. Actively. It shattered me. 

"Cause... you still want to tell me, right?" 

Something told me he knew what I had wanted to tell him.

My hand crept further up Roman's broad chest as I quietly sobbed, my whole body shaking. My fingers were at his neck, tracing his soft skin.

Roman's grip on my face tightened in desperation, yet his voice came out in a frail, low murmur; "Please-- Please tell me," 

I love you. I love you. If only Roman could read minds. I couldn't conjure the words, not in this state. 

My silence only broke him further. Hopeless, he pressed his tear-stained lips to mine in a sheer cry for mercy. "Please," he whispered between repeated kisses I couldn't reciprocate. "Please-- Please--"

My fingers had managed to slip between the two top buttons of his shirt, and they now grazed the vial of my blood around his neck. As Roman continued to kiss me, desperately pressing my body up against his, I let out a sob as I twisted the capsule, just like I had once practiced; his breath hitched as I wrapped my hand around the vial, clutching it as I pulled it away from him without a word.

Roman's hold on my face disappeared as his hands floated an inch away from my face, his big eyes watery with hurt and confusion. 

I told myself it was for the best. The blood had poisoned his thoughts for too long. 

My first step away was slow, trying.

Tick.

Tick tick.

My second was quickly followed by a sprint down the hallway, away from Roman, away from Daniel, away from everything.

Tick tick tick.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Have you ever thought about death? Of course you have, everyone has-- but have you ever felt it?

It felt like I was dying for the hundredth time this week. The agony was pressing at the sides of my head, and it made me hope it would finally cave in on itself just to spare me the torture of being awake. 

It was the fear that brought me to Letha's doorstep. The thing I didn't want to be true. Everything had balled up into a ginormous travesty of a boulder, and I could no longer try to push it over the side of the mountain-- I was no Sisyphus. 

I couldn't begin to comprehend how shocked Letha must've been when she opened the door. She opened and closed her mouth, scanning the mascara which had stained my cheeks, and the state of the top of my hair. "What the fuck?" she cursed under her breath, grabbing my hand to pull me inside. "What are you doing here? What happened?"

I felt like a shell of the person I used to be. Like I had been cracked open like a lobster, with someone actively scooping out my insides. Letha's house smelled of expensive fragrance sticks you'd buy from Rituals-- I recognized the one she had in her house at the moment, the ritual of hammam. It was her favorite, I remembered that much. I felt at home. It was an odd feeling.

"Your dress," Unsure what to do, Letha bent down to fix the way my dress fell. "Seriously, what happened?--"

"A while ago, you said you wanted to tell me the truth about Roman," My voice was sharp, hollow, as I stared at the girl who was once my best friend. I had cried into her shoulder before, we had shared countless laughs-- what had I done? "What was it?"

Letha stilled with shock when she straightened up, meeting my troubled gaze. "Shouldn't you be at prom?"

"Letha, I need!--"

"Where even is, Roman, actually?"

"You need to tell me!" I cried. "You need-- I need to know, I need to hear it from you, because I need someone to tell me that I've gone crazy!"

With slow motions, Letha stretched out her hands to place them gently on my shoulders. "Let's take some deep breaths, okay? Whatever this is, I bet you and Roman will get through this. Did you have a fight? It can be painful to argue with your boyfriend, and it really can feel like you're going crazy. I get it, and--"

"-- I have this book," I interrupted, feeling my tears press up against my lashes once more. "It's really long and dreadful, but I've read the whole thing over and over about five times now."

The worry streaking across Letha's face turned into a look of confusion. "Okay...? As long as it's not Fifty Shades again, I'm listening,"

It was odd to speak to someone that knew me so well. She knew I had read that stupid book several times, despite how ridiculous it could be at times. It almost threw me off. "The more I read the book, the more I saw the... similarities with Roman,"

Letha grimaced; "Fifty Shades?"

"No! The other one!"

"Oh, alright. Phew,"

I groaned, rubbing my temples. I was exhausted. "You said I deserved to know the truth about him, so I'm begging you, Letha, to put everything aside," My breath struggled to steady. "What was it?"

Her palms lifted from my shoulders. "I-- I don't know how to say it, or whether I should tell you at all. I only ever mentioned it because I thought you were in danger, but--" Letha stilled. It was clear on her face that she knew she had said too much.

"Danger?" I echoed. "Letha?"

With a quick hitch of her breath, Letha made her way past me with hasty steps and disappeared into the living room.

"Please!" I followed her, watching as she paced back and forth in the big room, anxiously biting her nails. "Letha, I need to hear it from you, I need to know that I'm wrong, I need to hear that it's something else than what I think it is!"

"I-- I don't, I can't!--"

"Tell me!"  I needed to hear it out loud. I burned to hear it from someone else than the voice in my head.

"N-No, I!--"

"Letha!"

"It's too-- I can't!--"

"Say it!" 

Letha stilled with the boom of my voice. She stared back at me from across the room, no longer pacing as she finally dared to face the crazed look in my eyes. There was a long pause, a silence that laid itself over us like a cold blanket-- "What book was it?" she breathed.

"The--" I hated this title. "The avoidable vampirism, the--" I couldn't say the word. I couldn't.

Letha nodded. It was barely noticeable, and it resembled an involuntary tic. "Yes,"

Yes?

"Yes, he is,"

"Say it," I whispered. "Please."

Letha closed her eyes, resigning;

"Roman's a upir,"

The house was dead silent. You could've heard a pin drop. There were faint remnants of the wind brushing past the large tree outside the property, with the rustling of the leaves filling the sonic void. Letha wasn't moving. Neither was I. How does one process such news? It was a peculiar feeling-- I felt like I had already known for a long time. There was no shockwave, as I had expected there to be. 

"Ah," was all I said. It left Letha to raise a brow, visibly off-put by my reaction. 

I nodded to myself a couple times, glancing around the living room I used to know better than the back of my hand. A small huff escaped me, similarly to a laugh; I wondered whether my brain was melting. It surely felt like it. 

For a second, I thought that was it. That there would be no blow to the reveal. That I was handling it surprisingly well, and that it'd be the end of it. However, the more breaths I took, the less I felt like I was breathing. The less I felt I was breathing, the more I could feel the painful thumping of my heart against my ribs, every beat serving as a reminder that I was still alive, still in this moment, still processing. 

My breath got stuck in my throat with the next heave-- my hands flew to my necklace, trying to find the clasp. It was too tight, too tight. With shaking fingers, I tried to get it off, needed it off, right now. It didn't work, no matter how hard I tried, and my eyes welled with tears as I ripped my necklace off with a gasp, hoping I'd finally be able to breathe. The beads rolled along the hardwood floors as I clutched at my chest, hitting my chest in hopes that air would fill it.

Letha's big, green eyes were filled with worry as she rushed to me, unsure how to help. "Hey, hey, breathe, okay?--"

The corset of my dress was suddenly an agonizing pressure around my waist, and my fingers went to the ribbons at the back to slacken it. It didn't work, no matter what I tried, and the sob I let out was followed by a broken plea; "Help-- H-Help!--" 

Letha hurried to get behind me as I slowly sank to the floor, choking on my tears as she untied the ribbons at full speed. My hands were tearing at my dress, choking with my last breaths as I descended into the heap of tulle around me-- I tried to scream, yet no sound would come. 

In a last attempt, Letha grabbed the ribbons with full force and pulled them apart, ripping the fabric in half as my corset finally came apart. 

What followed was a mix of a sob and a heave, a choked sound filling the room as I leaned forward into the tulle, taking sharp breaths of release. I could finally breathe. I was breathing again. I wept into my hands as Letha's soft hands stroked my exposed back, sitting down on the floor next to me as she brought my body as close to hers as she could. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I'm so, so sorry."

I shook in her arms, drowning in tears. It was true. Roman was a upir. I had been right all along, yet I had also been stupid enough to suppress it. The sadness, the heartbreak, that hit me felt like a death-sentence, and I held onto Letha as my whole body trembled with the realization; "I love him," I cried. "I love-- I love him!"

"I know," Letha stroked my hair, sighing. "I tried to get to you before you got that far, but there always comes a point when you can no longer do anything. I've learned that the hard way, now."

This was worse than death. "What do I do?" I breathed. "I don't-- I don't know what to do!"

"... You know what you have to do," 

It only made me clutch onto her harder, and I squeezed my eyes shut in hopes of stopping the stream of tears. I wondered how I had any more of them in my system. "I don't-- think I can!"

"I only want what's best for you," Letha cooed, patting away my fallen tears. "And I know that Roman can be charming, and he can be very nice when he wants to be, but... now that you know what he is, how are you going to believe him ever again? He's lied to you all this time, and he would've never told you himself. You're aware that he's putting you in danger every time he's near you?"

I shook my head; "N-No, Roman would never!--"

"If you read a whole book about upirs, you probably know what he's capable of?"

"He'd never-- never hurt me!--"

"Maybe he wouldn't hurt you, but you know he can control people, right?" Letha sighed once more, tilting my head upwards so that I would meet her eyes. "He did that to me our whole childhood. His favorite thing to do in the winter was to make me stick my tongue on metal poles and watch me cry when I couldn't detach it."

What? "But!--"

"How can you ever be sure that your actions are yours?" Letha's eyes were so intense, so desperate to get her point across. "How can you ever trust him again?"

How many times hadn't I thought he was mesmerizing me? I could count them on my fingers, but the thought was still unsettling. "I... don't know,"

Letha shifted to sit on her knees, watching my mascara paint my cheeks with long, black streaks. "I'm glad you came to me," she murmured, softening her look. "I'm glad you see that I'm the only one that can help you. We should put everything behind us and stick together again, and we have to. I'm all you have now. Roman... he's dangerous. You're safe with me."

I was so, so tired. I didn't have the energy to fight the free help coming my way, yet... something felt off. "He's not dangerous," I tried, in denial. "He's--"

"He's what?" Letha insisted, hardening her gaze. This was giving me whiplash. "Seriously! He could snap any day, can't you see?! And who would be closest to him the day he's overcome with thirst?" 

"No!--"

"It'd be you!" Letha grabbed my face, and it only made my tears flow faster, hanging from my quivering chin. "It'd be you, and I can't lose you again, not in that way!"

The more my vision blurred, the weaker I felt. "I love him,"

"I know,"

"I-- I love him,"

"But you need to love yourself more," she whispered. Letha let go of my face, wrapping her arms around me in a warm embrace. She smelled just like she did all those months ago. My best friend, Letha. I missed her more than anything. 

How could I ever love anything or anyone more than I loved Roman? I didn't have space for that in my body. I didn't have the capacity. 

"Do it for your life," Letha pleaded, her voice smooth as honey. It felt like she was talking me to sleep. "Please."

A life without Roman? I couldn't imagine it. Not when we had promised each other forever.

But... forever for him probably meant forever. 

Roman is a upir. 

Roman is a upir.

I let out another cry into Letha's shoulder; this was a nightmare I wouldn't ever wake up from.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

When you get devastating news, you never think of what happens afterward. It's similar to when someone dies-- you get the news, in comes the shock, and then you get handed the papers on what to do with the body. No one ever thinks about having to design the flyer for the funeral, right? 

There is a certain weight in your body as you go through the motions you know you have to go through. Your hands feel heavy as you hold your next meal before your mouth, realizing that life moves on, whether you want it to or not. You still need to drink water, eat, wake up, and function. 

And just as I opened the door to my empty home, I felt all of that at once. I wanted to freak out and sob in despair to the end of my days, yet I had to get back home. I had to get out of the clothes Letha had given me after I ruined my dress, I had to eat something to fill my rumbling stomach, and I had to sleep. How was I supposed to do any of that when it felt like my world was crashing down on me?

It felt like someone had pressed a button at the top of my head, putting me on auto-pilot. I didn't even notice that I was still wearing my jacket as I made my way to the kitchen with heavy steps, mindlessly opening the fridge and taking a... cucumber?

Why was I holding a cucumber?

Fuck it.

I couldn't think. I didn't even close the fridge. My mind was empty as I put it down on the kitchen island, not even bothering to find a cutting board. I didn't want to think. The more I thought, the more I thought about Roman. Roman and his perfect lips, Roman and his beautiful laugh, Roman and his green, green, green eyes. Roman, the man I loved. Roman, the upir. 

Involuntary tears rushed down my cheeks as my face remained stoic. I was exhausted. I had no idea how I was still moving. My hands were mindlessly tapping the kitchen surfaces around me, hoping I'd somehow find a knife that way. Not that I'd be particularly successful, but maybe I didn't want to be? I wasn't even planning on washing the cucumber. Maybe I hoped the germs would kill me. Could you die from an unwashed cucumber? I had no idea. There was probably a higher possibility that Roman would kill me first. 

... I hated that thought. 

I wish I didn't have to have it.

However, as my hands found the selection of knives, I heard a sound coming from behind me. It came from the other side of the kitchen island, the one I had my back turned to. I didn't think much of it first; houses creak all the time, surely. But then came the scrape-- a deliberate, jarring screech of a chair being pulled out from the kitchen island.

My parents were out of town. 

Someone was in my house.

Someone was pulling out a chair.

I froze, every muscle in my body locking up, my breath catching in my throat.  The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps sent a chill crawling down my spine. They weren’t hurried or hesitant-- they were purposeful, unhurried, as though whoever was there wanted me to hear.

I gripped the counter with trembling fingers, my pulse hammering in my ears. I didn’t dare look back, but every inch of me screamed to run. My fingers brushed the cold handle of the biggest knife I could find, finally. The familiar fight-or-flight surged through me, but I couldn’t choose. All I could do was grip the knife and hold it as though it were a lifeline.

When the footsteps stopped, I thought for a moment that maybe, just maybe, I had imagined it. 

But then-- the breath.

A low, soft exhale just inches behind me.

Now or never. I spun around with a panicked yell, the knife held high, ready to plunge it into whoever had invaded my home-- My scream got stuck in my throat when the blade pointed at the chest of a tall figure standing in the dark, his face barely illuminated by the faint glow of the refrigerator light.

Roman.

Roman didn't even bother to stop me, didn't jump away, nothing. The tip of my knife was barely dipping into his solar plexus, yet I was sure it would've been enough to draw blood on any other person; it didn't even pierce his skin. 

I couldn't believe what was happening. He somehow didn't look like himself-- it was Roman like I’d never seen him before. His expression was blank, too blank, the kind of blank that made my stomach churn. He didn’t flinch at the blade hovering just below his sternum. His green eyes locked onto mine with a kind of detachment, as though I wasn’t holding a weapon to his chest at all.

“You done?” he said, his voice carrying an eerie stillness.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. My knuckles whitened around the handle.

Roman’s eyes flickered down to the blade, then back to me. “Put it down,” he said, his tone measured but firm.

“No,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

Roman took a quiet step back, glancing down at the large knife I was holding at him with an unreadable emotion shimmering in his big, green eyes. "Right..." he huffed, sucking in a sharp breath. His gaze darted up to meet mine in the dark of the kitchen. "Is that how you want to do this?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. There was no other way, not when I knew the truth. 

Roman’s lips parted, and the breath that escaped wasn’t human—it was low, steady, and calculating, like a predator sizing up its prey. His gaze locked onto the knife, then slowly dragged up to meet mine. His pupils were darker now, swallowing the green of his eyes, and the silence between us stretched too long.

“If you’re gonna do it, don't hesitate,” Roman's voice was soft, yet laced with something cold and merciless. He took a single step forward, the tip of the knife now pressing harder against his chest. “You won’t get another chance.”

I gasped, stumbling back, but Roman didn’t follow. He stayed in the shadows, his figure looming over me like some unholy force. “Fine. This is how it's gonna go,” he continued, his tone so calm it made my blood run cold. “You’re going to put that down and listen. No running, no screaming. I deserve that much."

I tightened my grip on the knife, my chest heaving. “Why should I listen to you?"

A huff-- Roman was pissed. "Cause I'm really not in the mood for chasing you. It'd be over in less than three seconds, and that's never fun," Roman's voice dropped to a near whisper; "You wanna fight me, or do you want to be smart about this?"

I didn't lower my knife. I couldn't. "Alright," I breathed. "Talk, then."

Roman tilted his head, studying me, his lips curving into the faintest ghost of a smirk-- it didn't reach his eyes. "There you go," he said. 

"Good girl."

(a/n: ... are u still breathing? cause I'm not!!!! AGHHH😭 thank you for reading this if you got this far, this is so so much lore so if your brain is overheating pls pls go grab an icecream, you deserve it, and I LOVE YOUUU MWAHHH CAN'T WAIT TO SHOW Y'ALL THE REST OF THIS STORY!!)

here are all the chapters!<3: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12

loveliest taglist of all time:

@mentallyscreamingsincebirth @putherup @corawithfanfiction @vladsgirlxx

@iamaslytherin0 @sexualparkour @the-universe-is-complicated @heavenly-bratt

@lafemme-nk @namiusedbubble @useyourwandbro @strmborns @literally-lani

@virgosapphire79 @star-girl-04 @veyzus @ddipotassium @pecxiebu

@mil88691 @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @katifefe @sn0wybowie-blog

@lilithskywalker @likecherriesinthespring @sadheartjellyfish @vadersangel

@shehangsbrightly @burningmiraclekingdom @dollforaswan @austinswhitewolf

@nico-velvet @shiiiii-okayyyy @theantagonistalwaysdies @blackbluerose666

@obexes @rosecoloureddudez @amoure020 @itsaeasykill

@succubustacy @carmillavalentine @scarledy @chaneloberlin62727

@belovedmoony @lokitargaryen @vienneviennaxx @ellie1725

@taintandviolent

[joelscruff]

you know i don't mean it (joel miller x reader) 18+

welcome to my 300 follower celebration! \o/ i polled my followers on which character they'd most like to see in some new smut and joel won (not surprised). this was supposed to be a drabble but ended up getting a bit longer than i anticipated, hope you enjoy! summary: you and joel get off together. that's pretty much it. you also have some unresolved feelings for him and he's being closed off. rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: smut, age gap (reader is mid 20s, joel is mid 50s), praise kink (the term 'good girl' is used maybe 432534 times), dirty talk, dom/sub dynamics (but make it soft), mutual masturbation, come-play, come-eating, this is filthy word count: about 2.5k | ao3 link

"This is the last time," he mutters under his breath, belt buckle jangling as he lays down across from you, "We can't keep doin' this."

"Yeah, yeah," your hand is already buried in your panties, index finger lightly rotating against your clit, "That's what you said last week too."

He grunts and you watch as he slips his hand inside his jeans and palms himself, squaring his shoulders and trying to relax. He pretends he's doing this for your benefit, like its you who needs help getting off, as if he's not a middle aged man who hasn't been touched by a woman in years. And it's not like you haven't offered, you've genuinely tried to give yourself to him more than a few times, but it's simply a line he won't cross.

Other lines, however, are much easier to cross. It had started out relatively innocent, something that had happened completely by chance, or at least you both led yourselves to believe it was. You'd both had the same idea one night and had ended up getting off together in the same room, you in the chair beside the fireplace of the abandoned ski lodge you'd both been posted in, him on the couch.

"Are you -" he'd gasped into the darkness when he'd heard the wet sound of your fingers a few feet away, plunging in and out of yourself at a steady rhythm.

"Like you're not," you'd hissed back, "I'm not deaf."

"Thought you were sleepin'," he'd muttered, hand stilling on his cock where seconds ago he'd been stroking like his life depended on it.

"And that makes it less weird?"

He'd groaned, releasing himself and sitting up to squint at you in the darkness, "So what are you gonna do about it?"

You glared at him, not bothering to remove your hand from your underwear as you continued to finger yourself, breathing deeply, "I'm not gonna do anything about it, Joel. I'm gonna keep going. And you can stay here or you can go, doesn't matter to me."

After a few seconds of silence, he'd flopped himself back down on the couch and reached for himself again, fucking into his fist, "No talking," he said through his teeth, "Let's just do it and forget it even happened, deal?"

"Deal," you'd replied, and roughly added a third finger as you watched the dark silhouette of him jacking himself off barely six feet away from you.

One night turned into two, turned into five, and now ten. It wasn't every night, only when you were on patrol together. You'd privately asked Tommy to make sure that Joel was your patrol partner as often as possible, because you felt "safer" with him... you're not sure if he'd really believed you.

You're back in the ski lodge again tonight, both of you situated on the couch in your usual positions, on opposite ends and facing each other. It's ridiculous how quickly it's taken you both to get used to these sessions, the casual feeling of it making it even hotter somehow.

"How many fingers are you using this time?" Joel murmurs, eyeing you where you're touching yourself, unable to fully see what he'd like to.

"Up to you," you breathe, still prodding your clit, "How many do you want me to use?"

"Three," he replies, and you watch as he pulls his cock free from the confines of his jeans, jutting large and solid against his stomach, "Real slow, then real fast."

You nod, lifting your hips up to pull your panties free and expose yourself to him, legs wide.

"Stick to my rhythm," he tells you, watching as you trail your middle finger through your folds, "If I stop, you stop. If I tell you to stop-"

"I stop," you answer for him, throwing him a smug smile, "Same rules as always."

He stares at you without speaking, just waiting. You get the hint and begin to slide your finger inside slowly, making eye contact with him under your lashes and smiling languidly. He fists himself just as slow, looking down at your finger and licking his lips.

"Slow enough for you?" you whisper, adding a second and grinning when his eyes darken, "Should I go a bit faster?"

"Not yet," he whispers, thumbing the head of his cock and fucking into his hand at the same pace as your finger, "Keep it nice and slow for me 'til I say so."

You obey, fucking yourself with your middle and ring finger at the slowest pace you can muster. No matter how annoying his orders are you always do as you're told, not because you're afraid of any sort of consequence, but because you like seeing him enjoy himself, seeing him take control. You've only known him for about six months but you've known for a while that he's been lacking any sort of control in his life for a long time; you're glad to be the one who can give it to him.

"Add your third," he whispers and you oblige, slipping your index inside yourself alongside the others, "Good girl," he breathes, "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

You nod, your smugness immediately starting to fade. When he talks to you like this, praises you, it's impossible to keep your hard exterior up for much longer, feeling yourself submit to him. In any other circumstance you love to challenge him, to argue, but in these moments it's the last thing on your mind. You do as you're told, and that's the end of it. He needs control, you need submission.

"Tell me," he whispers.

"I'm your good girl," you breathe, shivering and continuing to shove your fingers in and out at his pace.

He smirks, "Yeah you are."

You continue to fuck yourself at his painfully slow pace, watching him fist his cock at the same speed. He likes to tease you, to build you up until you're begging for it. You thumb your clit and start to whimper, legs trembling.

"Okay, faster now," he tells you, voice low and sultry, "Not too fast, though. Watch me," he tugs at his cock at a bit quicker of a pace, still much too slow for you but you can't do much else but obey him, mirroring him with the thrust of your fingers, "That's it, like that."

After several more thrusts he suddenly stops stroking himself, stilling in his palm. You groan, halting your movements, following the rules.

"How is it that you follow orders so God damn well when you've got your panties around your ankles?" he asks, voice rough, "Yet when we're actually patrollin' you don't listen to a word I say?"

"I'm not your good girl when we're patrolling," you reply with a teasing smile, "But I could be, you know."

He rolls his eyes, "Enough, it's not happening," he nods to your hand, still motionless at your core, "Play with your clit for a second, give me a chance to breathe."

There it is, the line he won't cross. You've already told him that you're willing to give yourself completely over to him, be exactly who he needs, but no matter how many times you try he just won't budge. It's disappointing, truly, because you really do like him. Sure, he's a bit of an ass, plus he's about thirty years older than you, but you've seen the side of him he doesn't show to others. Maybe only hints, but you've seen it. And you care about him.

"I don't do this with anyone else, you know," you whisper, pressing your index finger against your clit and rubbing small circles into it, "You're the only one I'd let treat me the way you do."

He looks at you curiously, raising an eyebrow, "I treat you good, don't I?"

You nod, whimpering a bit as you rub yourself harder, "You do, but you're the only one I'd ever submit to like this, you know that, right?"

He hums, brushes the wide head of his cock with the tip of his thumb, "I know, baby. But it feels so good, doesn't it? You like being my good girl, don't you?"

You bite down on your lip, core aching as your fingers lay still against your folds, save for the index that continues to furiously stimulate your clit, "I do," you whisper, cheeks warming, "I fucking love it."

"There you go," he murmurs softly, then begins to move his fist again, "Use your fingers again, baby, get your pussy all full for me."

You don't need telling twice, your three fingers plunging deep inside yourself without any hesitation. You whimper when your fingertips brush against your favorite spot, so close yet so far. You eye Joel's cock and try to imagine what it would feel like for it to really be inside you, the fat tip of it pounding relentlessly against the deepest parts of your cunt, his girth stretching you out so much your whole body would be shaking. You feel your mouth drop open involuntarily, brow furrowing.

He follows your gaze and frowns at you, pumping himself a bit faster, "You can't have it," he whispers, like he can read your mind, "I know you want it, pretty girl, but you can't. I'm sorry."

"Why?" you mewl, sounding absolutely pathetic as you keep fucking yourself, "I want it so bad, Joel."

"I know you do," he closes his eyes and leans his head back, "Don't ask me why, you just can't."

You'd pout, tease him a little, but he's not looking at you anymore and it physically makes you ache, the way he avoids any allusion to actual sex, an actual relationship. You've asked him so many times and it's always the same answer, never a real reason. You wish you knew why, wish you knew if there was anything at all you could do to make him open up to you.

Instead you mirror his position, tilting your head back against the arm of the sofa and fucking up into yourself, listening to his labored breathing and the slap of skin whenever his fist hits his belly.

"Fast as you can now, baby," he mutters gruffly, close to the edge, "Need you to come for me, need you to be good."

"I'm always good for you, aren't I?" you whimper, opening your eyes to peer at him again, "I always listen, I never break your rules."

"That's right."

"So why can't you fuck me?" you sit up suddenly, yanking your fingers out of yourself and looking at him angrily. He sits up just as quickly, eyes narrowing as he releases his cock and stares at you, "I'm serious, Joel. I want an actual answer."

"You just broke a rule," he mutters and you sigh exasperatedly.

"I'm sorry for breaking the rules," you genuinely mean it; you know how important this control is for him, but you can't help it, "I'll submit again if you just tell me why you won't fuck me. Do you...do you not want me? Is that it? 'Cause I can accept that, I just want to hear you say it. I'm sick of not knowing."

He stares at you incredulously, hand coming up to squeeze the space between his brow and nose, "Jesus, of course I want you, but it's not that simple."

"Yes it-"

"It's not," he interrupts you, shaking his head, "I can't...this isn't..." he exhales deeply, "This isn't the time for this conversation, okay?" You hear raw emotion in his voice, buried deep but still present. Fuck, you didn't mean to make him feel bad.

"...Okay," you finally whisper, "I'm sorry."

"S'okay," he runs a hand through his hair, "Look, we can stop-"

"No," you lean back and open your legs wide again, putting yourself on display for him, "No, I wanna be your good girl again, please let me."

"We don't-"

"Joel," you whimper, slipping your fingers back inside, "Let me be your good girl."

His hard expression fades, eyes softening as he peers at you, watching you fuck himself for him.

"It's all yours, even if you won't touch me," you whisper, using your other hand to pull yourself open for him, showing him how full you are, feeling your orgasm start to build in your tummy, "It's yours," you repeat, whimpering.

He nods, stroking himself again hard and fast, brow furrowing in pleasure as he keeps his eyes trained on you, "That's right," he murmurs, "It's mine. You're mine."

You close your eyes tight, "I'm gonna come."

"Go ahead, pretty girl," you hear him groan, the snap of his wrist making you completely come undone, "Squeeze around those fingers, pretend they're mine, okay? You can do that, you can pretend."

You shudder at his words and feel your orgasm overtake you, the image of Joel's thick fingers pounding into you enough to send you over the edge. You moan loudly, crying out his name and tossing your head back as you come.

"Good girl," he groans, voice strangled, "Such a good fucking girl for me."

You close your eyes as you ride out the waves of your release, fingers still pumping gently inside of you until it's too much and you pull them out. Sighing contentedly, you open your eyes again and watch Joel relentlessly fuck into his fist, belt buckle still jangling against the couch as he gasps. You want nothing more than to reach forward and take him in your own hand, help him ride out his own release, but you don't. Because those are the rules.

Instead you just watch him, smile at him as he shuts his eyes tight and groans deeply, coming into his fist. You watch the thick white liquid cover the sides of his fingers and you involuntarily salivate, jaw going slack.

"Fuck," you breathe, "Wish I could taste you."

He groans again, hand stilling as he breathes heavily and starts to come down, eyes closed. You sit quietly, panties still hanging off one of your ankles. You'd usually already be putting your clothes back on at this point, but something tells you to stay still, don't move, he's gonna do something different.

He swallows and looks up at you, stares at you for a few moments. You're unsure whether the regular Joel is about to come back, tell you it's time to go back on patrol, grab your gun and be quiet. Or is this still your Joel, the one who tells you you're pretty and good, makes you feel less alone in this shitty world.

"Here," he says, shaking his head and bringing his come-coated fingers up to your mouth, "If you wanna taste, you have five seconds."

Your mouth pops open in surprise, hesitating only for a second before you lean forward and wrap your lips around his fingers, feeling the salty taste of him flood your mouth. Your cunt begins to throb again, your eyes closing as you suck and lick and take everything he's giving you. When you open your eyes again he's still looking at you, but his expression is soft, tender.

"Good girl," he murmurs.

this is now a series, and other parts can be found on my masterlist.

[quintinh43]

Giving them a kiss before going to work and they are still in bed.

With Luke Hughes!

Thank you for requesting 🥰

-

You were absolutely not a morning person. Luke, also, was absolutely not a morning person. Unfortunately for him, his job often required that he wake up at the ass crack of dawn. Which was astronomically harder to do when he had a pretty girl wrapped around him in the mornings. Fortunately, waking up beside you made everything ten times better.

The blaring of his alarm pulled him from his blissful sleep. He rolled over and slapped the snooze button angrily before wrapping his arms back around you and burying his face against your hair with a sigh. He drifts in and out of sleep, the fact that he should get up bleary at the front of his mind.

His alarm goes off again, and he shuts it off with a sigh. It's positively criminal that it's not even five in the morning, and Luke has to be up. He carefully detangles himself from you, making sure you don't wake up. Not that you'd wake up if the zombie apocalypse broke out, but he still puts in the effort to be careful and quiet.

He slips into the bathroom and splashes cold water on his face to wake up. He brushes his teeth and does his morning skin care (courtesy of you) before he quietly pads back into the bedroom to change. Luke pulls on a pair of sweats and a hoodie, and just just as he's about to leave, he gazes at you lovingly.

A soft smile plays at his lips, and he kneels beside the bed, brushing your hair from your face gently. His thumb smooths over the slope of your eyebrow. He loves seeing you like this. All relaxed, with no angry crease in your forehead from having to deal with less than bright people.

You looked serene. At peace. If Luke could make sure you looked like this for the remainder of your life, he would give everything he could for it to happen.

He leans forward, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. You hum, a smile twitching at your mouth as you lean further into the embrace of his hand. Luke grins wide and presses another kiss to your cheek. And then another to your nose. And one more to your eyelids. And then to the corner of your lips. And then-

And then his phone is buzzing in his pocket, startling him so badly that he falls backward onto his ass with a grunt. Jacks contact flashes on the screen and he grumbles.

"I'm coming," Luke whispers as he answers the phone.

"Hurry, or were gonns be late. I've already been down here for seven whole minutes."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way down. Don't piss your pants." Luke grumbles. He hangs up and presses one last kiss to your forehead before he leaves.

[eshithepetty]

So. It's been said before that Mob has this compulsive thing where he looks at his hand when he's thinking about his powers. But I've wanted for a While now to compile exactly when and how much he does this, so!! Here's exactly a post for that ^^

Starting with the very 1st episode of Season 1, here he looks at his hand while Reigen's spiel about him not using his powers to use against others plays in his head. At this point in the story, we don't really understand the full gravity of these words, and what they mean to Mob - really, they sound more like the obvious usual advice that a psychic mentor would give. But from Mob's percentage rising (tho most people won't know what the percentage means at this point in the story), as well as him generally sitting on this advice, we can tell that a nerve has been struck.

Then comes season 1 episode 3. This is technically the same exact shot, but I still decided to include it both because it's still technically a different instance, and also, because of the new information we learn in this episode, we can look at this shot with a different context. Namely, that we now know what Mob's percentage means, and that his powers are connected to his emotions, which is why he stifles both in fear of hurting people as Reigen warned him of. It turns from impersonal advice to a Very personal and real concern. Though the biggest reason for why he fears his powers is still unknown at this point... (though we are made aware of the other reason - fear of social ostracization).

Ough... here comes season 1 episode 5. The shot of him looking at his hand, the one that makes it abundantly clear exactly what he is imagining and thinking back to when he does this. He's remembering the literal blood on his hands... fuck me.

Then are these shots from the same episode. The hands are covered by a towel, so this one is less obvious, but by his sight line and the conversation that he just had with Ritsu - about the incident, and what he did to him - it's obvious that's where his eyes are set. And now compared to episode 3, we know exactly why he hates and fears his powers so much. Why he thinks these hands are dangerous...

Season 1 episode 10, another repeat shot - this time from the psychically induced flashback he suffers at the hands of Muto. I still think the 100% rejection scene is so underrated - imagine being forced to relive the most traumatic event of your life, especially considering he usually avoids thinking about it.. god, the way he just screams and sobs is so upsetting.. though I do wonder what exactly Muto saw when Mob reversed the illusion on him.

This one's from season 1 episode 11, and it's a lot more innocuous than the rest - he's just checking that his psychic powers indeed don't work in this cursed room. But it's still him looking at his hand and thinking about his powers, so I decided to include it. (though I will say, there is a fanfic opportunity somewhere in here about combining the fact that, apparently, there exist curses that can surpress psychic powers, and Mob's desire to do just that... maybe one day I will get to it)

Now we jump to season 2! Episode 3. God, this is still one of the most intriguing scenes of this show to me... here, along with the fear of potentially having to hurt his clients, Mob is thinking a lot of things - among them, for the first time considering not only that he can hurt innocent people with these hands, but also innocent spirits. And the fact that he had been exorcising spirits, essentially killing these beings that are as close to him as living humans are, for years... I just love this episode. And as one commenter on Youtube pointed out, in season 2 episode 1, he made a promise to himself to consider his feelings more - and his feelings are innately tied to his powers. Thus, opening his eyes to his feelings also made him open his mind to the ethics of how he is using his powers, and whether following Reigen along on all these jobs without thought is truly what he should be doing. This is a big part of why I fully support him deciding to not work for Reigen post-finale - he needs to figure out how he feels about his powers without using them as tools to get profit (well. Not so much profit for him, and there's certainly value he gained from this job besides that - such as being able to at least use and express his powers somewhat, along with the relationship he gained with Reigen - but point still stands. It's healthy for him to be able to think these things through without that). Plus, I personally like to imagine he grows more sympathetic to spirits as he grows up and isn't anymore too keen on him destroying them being his job. But ramble aside...

Here comes mogami arc! Season 2 episode 5. As the subtitles say, in contrast to all other times he's been agonising over being too powerful, here, he's regretful over not being strong enough (plus, I like how Mogami has basically redefined what strength means for Mob in this fabricated world. Where in the real one, strength for Mob means sticking it to your morals and being able to resolve things peacefully, here it's... kinda the opposite..). Also, what's interesting here is that he still looks to his hand here, despite having all his memories of his powers and the incident erased from his mind. I guess it's just that deep-seated...

Same episode. This one is kind of debatable, but he certainly looks like he's rising his hand to look at it. Thus, I'm including it. Plus, it has thematic relevance to the incident. As he is saying here, in this world, he truly hasn't done anything malicious or dangerous that could warrant people treating him as the enemy, yet here they are. I could imagine, that, somewhere in the back of his mind, he is feeling like he's forgetting something...

Season 2 episode 10. Here he just woke up and immediately whooped ass with his powers. Also more innocuous, he's just confused, but still looking at his hand, so. Here it remains.

Season 2 episode 12 - this one's also kind of a oddball, since for once, he's not really thinking about his powers, but rather Serizawa's, and what they reveal about the man's feelings- but I thought it was close enough at him looking at his hand. Besides, I think it's sweet that this is one of the first times he uses his powers to empathise, to connect with someone (we see him do so again while trying to take in Toichiro's powers, as well as in the Alien arc, notably), so I'm including it for its thematic relevance.

Now onto season 3 episode 1! There's a really good post explaining this one (as well as the ghost family scene instance) here, but to summarise, here, Mob is thinking back to his powers and instances of him hurting people - making mistakes - and how he never learns. Never changes. Not enough... just like with the 100% sadness scene, it's just so sad that he thinks this one instance of his powers getting the best of him has ruined him for life. That he can't afford to make mistakes... buddy, you're 14 years old. A child. Making mistakes is part of growing up, part of being human :( But I'm guesing he doesn't always see himself as fully human does he ...

And then. Season 3 episode 10. Ough... This is just all his worst fears becoming reality. He's hurt Hanazawa, again. He's hurting his loved ones, again. He's monstrous and dangerous, again... All these years of repression have just led him back to square one and below - to bloodied hands once more. But this was inevitable. He couldn't have continued looking at those hands and fearing them.. he needed to face himself. Look that trauma in the eyes. And say: that's not all I am. I did that, those hands are mine, I am capable of hurting, but it's not all I am. I am capable of changing.... and he does!! Reverting once doesn't erase all the good he has achieved and all the growth he has experienced. But fact remains, that before you heal the wound you heal the wound, you need to clean it first. And it will hurt... but he gets there. He gets there.

So to finish on a lighter note! The ending of season 3!! This one makes me so happy, because, as opposed to all these other scenes where he's looking to his hand with turmoil and anguish in his heart, here, it's the opposite! He's smiling!! He's confident!! He's becoming surer of himself every day!!! He no longer sees his powers as a curse!!!! It's a promise, that eventually, he manages to deal with all the trauma and achieve a happy ending. It's just his hand, and his hands can hold instead of harm. It's just so sweet. I love him and his character development so, so much.... <3

In conclusion: he looks at his hand a total of 14 times - 12, if we exclude repeat shots. And I just think it's fascinating, how we can follow his development throughout these instances. So I hope that this was interesting for you to read as well, and that you all have good days out there <3 Toodles :)

[blqstar]

main mha boys finding out their s/o’s tiktok famous

↳ featuring ; midoriya, bakugou, shoto

content warning: black reader, fluff, a lil bit of crack too, mention on y/n’s big booty and boobies 😏, profanity + slurs, not proofread (as always tbh lmao)

note: i literally just came up with this on the spot, i was so busy daydreaming, thinking about this lmao. y’all i promise a oneshot finna come out, im def a d1 procrastinator lolll

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 — izuku midoriya !

deku honestly isn’t the person to be on social media that much. really because he’s out training most of the time

but every time he gets the chance, he comes across videos of you

and when i say every time, i mean every single time lmao

edits, little clips of you from your original tiktok, even your own tiktoks you make.

baby, when he sees you in that video, in them lil black shorts and crop top

y’all his ass is DROOLING

he’s honestly a little flabbergasted but at the same time, he’s not. he knows his princess is absolutely drop dead gorgeous so it’s really no surprise that you would go viral.

he ends up following you after a while and decides to ask you about it, assuming that you didn’t know about it yourself

“hey , bunny , did you know you’ve been going viral lately ?”

“yeah , you ain’t know ? i’m surprised you didn’t know before , zuku-poo “

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ — katsuki bakugou !

i feel kats ain’t a person to have social media, so he shol don’t have no damn tiktok🧍🏽‍♀️

“wtf is tiktak ?”

“kats , it’s tiktok .”

“whatever the fuck it’s called, i ain’t gettin’ that shit .”

with some persistence and a little bit of ‘pretty girl’ charm, he puts it on his phone (he be lyin like a mug lmao)

one particular day where he’s a lil bored, he decides to go on tiktok for the one time

and the first vid on his fyp is…you?

wtf??

he watches you lip sing a song wearing his color in a orange sundress, accentuating your butt and boobs

how many times he’s watched it? yes.

nigga has turned into an all out simp

after he’s looked, he goes through your comments and sees tons of guys simping for you too.

nigga’s boiling now

“HEY , WTF BABE ? TAKE THIS SHIT DOWN !”

“how about…no .”

“DON’T TELL ME NO , YOU WEIRDO !”

this man is an actual diva sometimes lmaoo

⋆⁺₊❅. — shoto todoroki !

like deku, he isn’t much of the type to have social media.

not just because of training but because he’s not really interested in those types of things. especially tiktok

but once he heard you talking about it to him the day before, he went to see what it was all about. (mans is obsessed w u like anything u talk abt he wants to know about lol)

and first thing he saw was you in a little black sundress and recording yourself in the mirror, showing off your figure

baby boy blushed (hes so cute)

he went through multiple clips and edits of you, even going through your profile and watching your videos.

during this, you were caught in the midst of it, watching his phone from behind

“babe~ , are you stalking my videos ?”

“yeah ofc , you look so gorgeous . send me the vids before you post next time . wanna be the first one to see ‘em .”

[beanxiv]

their favorite place to kiss you ; multiple bnha boys

summary: bnha boys and where they love kissing you most.

word count: 1.6k

includes: gn reader, katsuki bakugou, izuku midoriya, shouto todoroki, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima, tamaki amajiki, keigo takami, touya todoroki, hanta sero, & tenya iida.

warnings: suggestive on dabi's part, but not really. its def sfw so no need to worry abt that. also a small amount of cussing.

katsuki bakugou

katsuki loves kissing your lips. he doesn't do anything "half-assed," as he'd say, and kisses to your lips are always full of affection towards you. whether it's a quick peck or a kiss that turns into a make-out sesh, there's always love and passion within katsuki's kisses.

when he kisses your lips the tension leaves from between his brows, the irritation that might've built throughout the day is leaking away, and all his focus is on you and your pretty, pretty lips

keigo takami

might sound odd, but keigo likes kissing your shoulders and back, specifically between your shoulder blades. after a long day of flying around and patrolling the streets of japan what he wants most is to come home to your shared apartment and into your warm arms. he'd tell you about his day, whether it was eventful or not-- he likes seeing you pay attention to him. you wonder aloud what it'd be like to fly around japan all day.

keigo kisses your shoulders and insists on some cheesy shit like, "baby you already know how to fly-- hell, y'flew into my heart and made it soar." you can't help but cringe and giggle at his dorkiness but he totally meant everything he said.

touya todoroki

touya can't get his mind off of the soft skin of your neck whenever you kiss. he feels the need to just sink his teeth in and show you how much you make him burn. it's not too often that he kisses your neck but when he does, he makes the most of it. he'll kiss every inch, from the top of your neck, near your jaw, all the way down to your collarbone.

if you ever ask touya why he likes kissing your neck he'll probably reply with something vague or suggestive. the real reason? he loves the smooth skin of your neck and loves feeling you warm at his touch, squirming when his lashes tickle a certain spot. this close to your chest, touya can feel your heartbeat get quicker and just loves it. no matter how tough a mission or how roughed up he got that day; if he gets to come back to base and indulge in you like this, every injury was worth it.

shouto todoroki

shouto, in his soft and loving moments (almost all his moments) will kiss the side of your head, right at your temple. he isn't the best at expressing himself, but he loves you more than anything and wants to take all your worries away. when shouto kisses your temple, he acts as if he's pulling all the negative thoughts from your head, trying his best to pull together his own thoughts and voice them against your temple, filling your head with his adoration for you.

bonus: the hand crusher likes kissing your hands. they're so beautiful to him and if he had to save one pair of hands from his "hand destroying curse" they'd be yours no doubt."

izuku midoriya

izuku's body is stacked with scars and freckles and he knows how they might make one insecure, but yours are so beautiful and empowering that he makes it an effort to kiss each one of your scars and moles/freckles/blemishes whenever you need it. except, to him, they not blemishes per se, more like your story. they say your moles are where your lover in your past life kissed you the most, i don't think izuku would genuinely believe that, but he still loves to kiss the moles scattered on your body saying something like, "i'll be yours in every life, love." and your scars, he knows all of their stories, he'll kiss them and comfort you, telling you how beautiful and strong they make you.

and if you reciprocate? kiss izuku's scars and freckles?? oh, he'll melt in your arms right then and there. you've sent him off to cloud nine. you'll physically see his soul ascend, he just becomes the happiest man alive.

tamaki amajiki

tamaki loves your cheeks, the plush skin of them always warm against his lips. the innocence of it just takes you out and makes you melt. the way he just takes your face in his hands and presses kisses to each of your cheeks. or when he kisses the middle of your cheek and pulls away to look at you, tracing the curve of your face.

even better when you're looking back at him with those pretty eyes of yours, full of affection. he'll get so flustered and shy, crumbling right at your feet.

hanta sero

hanta loves your lips too, even more so the corner of your lips. the little jerk likes to tease you, kissing the corner of your mouth until you get worked up about it. only then will he finally press a sweet kiss to your lips.

when you complain about hanta's teasing he'll laugh, kissing the edge of your lips once more. "so greedy, my love. good things come with patience." he thinks he's soo cool and wise but he's really just a lovable bully

hitoshi shinsou

in your presence alone, hitoshi is a different person. in those moments when it's just you two, hitoshi'll always have his face buried in your neck turning to kiss your jaw every once in a while. it started as a sleepy habit, he couldn't quite reach your lips, so he opted for your jaw. after that it became a normal habit

even if your jaw is farther than your lips when he's standing over you, he'll just lean down further to kiss it. or he'll tip your face up to his for him to smooch. and if you're taller than him? even better! he won't have to lean down, and if you're that much taller, he'll simply take your face in his hands and pull your face down to his.

eijirou kirishima

eijirou is the most supportive lover ever. this man will do quite literally anything to make sure you feel loved. he always finds himself kissing your stomach. might sound weird but when you guys are cuddled up somewhere and eijirou's head is resting on your torso he'll just start pressing a million kisses to your stomach out of nowhere, if you ask why he'll be like, "i just love your stomach, something wrong with it, babe?" and he's being serious, if you've ever mentioned being insecure of your belly, whether you feel to skinny or too chubby. he'll be like, "uh, no. my significant other is not gonna feel unloved and ugly while i'm around." and shove his face onto your stomach and over-dramatically kiss it everywhere with the little smooch sounds and everything.

and if you tell him to stop he will, but if you're joking he'll take it as encouragement to show you even more love.

tenya iida

tenya loves feeling strong and protective, and kissing your forehead makes him feel just that! especially if he's taller than you. if not, he doesn't care, he can still protect you nonetheless. he'll kiss your forehead millions of times over just to feel like he's your boyfriend. because what is a boyfriend if not caring and protective of you? tenya takes his position as your boyfriend as if it's a job he had to apply for and gets paid for, except this job isn't a nine-to-five. it's a full twenty-four hour business that he is more than happy to take part in.

he’ll take your face in his hands and either pull you down to him or lean down himself to kiss your forehead, depending on your height difference. and he’ll just caress the sides of your face as he does. and tenya is the biggest simp for you ever. if you’re a hero like him, he’s your biggest fan. if you’re not a hero, he’s still your biggest fan ‘cause who cares? you may be a civilian to everyone else, but you’re sure as shit his hero.

denki kaminari

it’s hilarious if you think denki can only pick one place on your body to kiss as his favorite. ha, no. this down bad dork can’t stop and won’t stop kissing every part of you whenever and wherever you let him. like he’ll pepper kisses all over your face, trail kisses down your arms, scatter some more of your neck, and once he’s placed a kiss on every bit of skin you allow him to, he’ll smack a giant kiss on your lips. no, seriously. all the boys are simps, but denki? he’s another category of the word simp. he’s down bad, down astronomical, even.

he’s a very physically affectionate guy, and if you are too, awesome! if not, he respects that and will hold back to make sure you’re comfortable. and if you’re cool with pda he’ll never be far from you, practically attached to your hip. and very often placing casual kisses somewhere on you, be it your shoulder, head, cheek, wherever! so long as you’re comfortable with it, denki is all over you.

© beanxiv — all rights reserved. copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is not allowed.

[seokminfilm]

the many faces of seokmin | lee seokmin

🪄 pairing, lee seokmin x reader

🪄 warnings, non-idol au, fluff, lowercase intended, lots of kissing, reader calls seokmin baby, seokmin calls reader love, some cuddling and LOTS of play fighting, giggly seokmin

🪄 summary, your boyfriend subconsiously makes this one adorable facial expression that you can't get over.

🪄 author's note, happy 2025 lyrnation! i hope your january 1st has been/was a great first day of the new year! i saw the middle picture while i was scrolling on pinterest for xcalibur dk pictures (don't ask okay), and felt the urge to write about this very seokmin coded face 🤍 enjoy everyone!

🪄 now playing, free money, calum bowen

🪄 word count, 1.1k | for @kstrucknet

"I love that face you make." You pull away from Seokmin, still sitting on his lap as you smile at him while he stares up at you. "What face?" His big brown eyes are confused, and you stroke his hair lovingly, Seokmin smiling at you as you look down at him.

There was this one face your boyfriend had a habit of doing at some of the most random times. He would squint his eyes shut, scrunch his sharp nose up, and purse his lips together in the cutest way known to man. It was something you had noticed ever since you had started dating, and it was also something you couldn't get over.

"That one you do where your nose scrunches up." You say, hands still in Seokmin's wet curls as he shakes his head, smiling. "I make a lot of faces where my nose scrunches up, love."

Laughing, you nod, agreeing to him as you stick your hands under Seokmin's velvet robe, ticking his chest. He giggles cutely, falling back against the headboard as you pepper kisses all over his cheeks and nose.

"Love, stop! That tickles, you know," Seokmin has tears in his eyes as he pulls your hands from inside his dark blue robe, and you wipe them away, smiling even wider as he makes the face you had just mentioned.

"See! You just made the face! I saw it!" You say, pointing to him. Seokmin's eyes widen in surprise, and he giggled again, unable to stop himself.

"What face, love? I don't know what you're─hey, stop that," Seokmin says quickly, pulling your sneaking hand away from the opening to his bare chest. "Why are you trying to tickle me so much?"

"First of all, because it's really fun. Second of all─" You pause, pinching Seokmin's cheek as he glares at you. "Because you have the cutest giggles when I do it."

"Three," You add on, studying Seokmin's pretty features. "You make the face I'm talking about after I tickle you."

Seokmin sighs, hand running through his wet curls as he adjusts your position on his lap. He's smiling like an idiot, staring up at you with those big brown eyes as he whines, pulling your persistent hands away.

"Can't you just tell me how the face looks?" Seokmin's pout is heart melting, lips jutted out in a cute way as his eyes seem to sparkle up at you.

You sigh, shaking your head as you adjust the plush collar around Seokmin's neck. "I did tell you how the face looks. Seokmin, I don't think you even notice when you do it. It's like...."

"Like what?" Seokmin presses, obviously awaiting your answer as he takes your hands in his, stopping you from trying to tickle him once and for all.

"You're really persistent, love," Seokmin sighs, laughing at you nonetheless as you laugh with him, falling into his warm chest.

"I really want you to do the face again, baby. It's so cute on you." Seokmin hears your whining, and he sighs, smiling at you as he continues.

"Just tell me how I make the face. I'll try to do it so you can take a picture." Seokmin smiles, and you give him a wary look, confusing him as his face sours seconds later.

"Are you being sarcastic? Are you annoyed with me, baby?" Your sad voice makes Seokmin melt, and he shakes his head, brushing your cheek with his hand as he smiles again. His hand is warm against your cheek, and it makes you giddy inside, staring at him as he shakes his head yet again.

"I'm not annoyed, love, I promise. I'm for real, too─if you really like that one specific face I make, tell me who I make it so you can take a picture! You could even use it for your phone wallpaper if you want to." Seokmin says the last part shyly, knowing you would do it even if he didn't give you permission to─not that he minded.

"Seokmin, I love you so much." You smile gently, kissing him slowly, softly, as if he's a delicate statue you don't want to tip over and break. He responds in kind to this, softly grabbing your hips as he sighs under you sweetly.

"Why? Because I'm letting you use my face?" Seokmin asks playfully and you laugh, shaking your head as you tug on his earlobes.

You know how much he loves when you do that, and it doesn't fail now, either: Seokmin's smiling like crazy, and the tips of his ears are turning a bright red. Laughing, you peck him again, humming as you answer his question.

"Well, yes─" You answer truthfully, and Seokmin sighs, a faux pout on his face as you smile at him, tilting his chin up to look at you. "But also because I just love you so, so, so much."

Seokmin blushes at that, and returns his hands back to your hips, smiling at you before you lean down and press a kiss to his soft lips yet again, causing him to giggle under you.

"Stop laughing," You pout playfully, and Seokmin sighs, still giggling as he apologizes. "Sorry, sorry─I'm sorry, okay? Hey, hey, wait─no! I said I was sorry─" Before Seokmin can say anything else, your hands are tickling his stomach and sides, causing him to squeal and kick and giggle like there's no tomorrow.

Now having Seokmin distracted, you take his phone from his bedside table and swipe open to the camera, snapping pictures of his smiling face. You wait and wait and wait, tickling and tickling and tickling him until─

"Got it!" You yell triumphantly, and Seokmin can finally catch a breather, tears streaming down his clean cheek as he sighs, still giggling in the process.

"See? This face." You say, giving his phone back to him. Seokmin takes it, studying the picture as he blushes. "Do I really look like that?"

"You're so adorable, Seokmin. Look at you!" You smile, and Seokmin laughs, saving the picture before powering off his phone. He's laughing and sighing still, and you laugh at just how out of breath he is, earning a playful glare from him.

"Sorry, baby, I'll stop now. I swear," You promise, raising your hands up in surrender. Sighing, Seokmin just smiles, taking your hands in his as he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his legs around you and trapping you in between them.

Squealing, you kick and scream, giggling as Seokmin peppers your face with pecks, kisses, and tiny little bites.

"Now," Seokmin says lowly, breath hitting your ear as he smiles deviously against your earlobe. "It's my turn."

At least you got the picture before Seokmin tickled you and loved you until you couldn't breathe─just the way you did him.

[q1ngqve]

deepthroating dr ratio just to make that man stop yapping >:3

he can be so annoying at times! yapping on and on about his philosophy and things like that :( you love it when he’s talking something he’s passionate about though, but it can get a lot when he doesn’t give you enough attention!

he’d raise an eyebrow when you tie your hair into a ponytail, getting on your knees on the process, but that doesn’t stop him from yapping ☝🏻🤓ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི he only stutters when you palm him through his pants and stroke him as you pull his dick out

his voice would start to shake when your soft lips wrap around his tip, tongue pressing the bottom of it comfortably! and he’d ask “what’re you doing?” knowing full well you’re about to deep throat him 🤭

finally stops yapping when you put his whole dick into your mouth, throat constricting as you try to swallow and breathe properly! he’d wrap his hands around your hair, stroking your head softly, trying so hard not to push your head all the way down

his legs almost gives out when you do deep throat him, your nose touching his pelvis! he’d groan when you look up at him with wet eyelashes, fluttering them so prettily when his fingers reach down to wipe your tears away!!!!!

cums so much down your throat, you’re almost choking on it by the time he’s done <3 continues yapping afterwards though

[perksofbeingpoet]

pittsie rolls out the dough so precisely that you could think he was about to get out measuring tape, protesting loudly when knox steals some of it and eats it just like that. charlie laughs and nudges pittsie in the side- chill out, bro- before messily cutting out stars with the cookie cutters. cameron chides him for making them look all wonky, and neil laughs, yeah charlie, try again. todd smiles up at him. his stars are shaped perfectly, and neil presses a kiss to the top of his head as todd focuses so hard on every cookie. pittsie rolls his eyes and mimes throwing up into the bowl with the icing, making meeks laugh where he is sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging. knox puts too many sprinkles on the cookies and cameron tells a story they all know, but they still laugh. meeks sets the oven temperature too high and blames charlie for distracting him by throwing out random numbers. knox feeds pittsie some of the icing, pittsie pretends to swoon and acts as coy as possible. todd laughs, and charlie grins at him, finally got you out your shell, have we? the kitchen smells sweet.

[jwisun]

park jisung x gn!reader smau

got a req for jisung being a bit of a player then realizing he just wants you, i got a little invested and carried away HAHA enjoy<3

[narumi-gens]

How would narumi react if chaos couple girlfriends ex would show up?

narumi gen x f!reader

part of the Agents of Chaos series

"Hey, who's that guy?"

Narumi hisses the question in your ear so suddenly that he can tell it takes you by surprise. You were in the middle of zoning out beside him and you probably assumed he was doing the same.

After all, the stuffy occasion that both you and the rest of the First Division have been forced to participate in – a tour of the Ariake Maritime Base by one of the higher-ups from within the Ministry of Defense – is the exact kind of thing that Narumi tries his hardest to avoid. Unfortunately, Hasegawa is holding both his BS5 and handheld console hostage, with his attendance and good behavior at this entirely pointless affair a condition of their safe return.

"What guy?" you reply, daring to slip your phone from your pocket only for him to snatch it and slide it into his pocket. He can't give Hasegawa any reason to harm his most beloved possessions.

"That guy who won't stop staring at you," he says, nodding at one of the official's aides whose eyes have been glued to you since the party arrived.

You frown in confusion before looking where directed. When you meet his gaze, the man's face turns bright red before he drops his head down and begins to flip through the folder in his hands.

"Oh, we used to fuck," you shrug.

"What?!" he shrieks and suddenly everyone's attention is on him.

Hasegawa quickly attempts to correct the situation, pointing out the base's freshly renovated training grounds in the distance while the three members of the Defense Force's PR team – who insisted on being there – seamlessly step in front of you and Narumi to hide you both from view.

"Calm down. I'm not still fucking him," you snort. Hasegawa's voice suddenly becomes louder as he describes the newly paved track.

You close your eyes and point your face up at the sky, relishing the sunshine on your skin. His gaze darts back and forth between you and your ex, who's returned to nervously looking at you. He glances at Narumi every so often, but never with any serious concern, which Narumi almost finds more offensive.

"Why'd you break up?" he asks as he examines the man from afar.

"He was boring," you tell him simply and there's an unexpected sense of relief that rushes through his body.

"Boring?" he repeats, a grin slowly tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Soooo boring," you nod and you tilt your head towards him, peeking open a mischievous eye with a smirk of your own that makes his heart flutter.

"I've got an idea."

One of the PR members glances back at him with deep worry on their poor face, but Narumi pays them no mind. He's too focused on how brightly your eyes are now shining.

He tosses an arm over your shoulders and moves out from behind the three-person PR wall. He can hear one of them muttering about how their careers are over, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

"Sir!" he shouts, interrupting Hasegawa who simply sighs and slaps a resigned palm to the top of his bald head, which is shining brilliantly under the sun. The official and his group of staffers, including your ex, look at him – and you still under his arm – as you both approach.

"We could keep going and show you the training grounds and the offices and the weapons storage, but what if we liven this tour up?" he suggests and he can instantly tell he's piqued the older man's interest. "Why don't we do a live neutralization exercise for you and your...assistants?"

The official's expression lights up with excitement at the prospect, but Narumi barely sees it. His focus is entirely on the uncomfortable-looking man standing slightly behind him.

"What a fantastic idea, Captain Narumi!" he easily agrees and Narumi smirks.

"I'll relay the command for the officers to prepare themselves," Hasegawa says, trying to restore a semblance of order, but he quickly shakes his head to stop his Vice-Captain.

"No need. As Japan's Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant and the Captain of the Defense Force's strongest division, I can solo the exercise," he assures them. His focus remains trained directly on your ex, who has long since dropped his gaze down to the ground. "Hasegawa, you can set them up in the best seat in the house – in the Operation Room right next to our Head of Operations here."

Your ex's head shoots up to look at Narumi with wide eyes, in clear disbelief that he would have to suffer through the display of Narumi's strength while sitting right next to you.

Hasegawa and the PR team members begin to corral the visitors away towards the Operation Room, but your ex seems rooted in place. In response, Narumi childishly sticks his tongue out to the sound of your laughter.

[m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s]

Hello mooni! I was wondering if I could please send in a request for my beloved Tech and female reader with fluff with light angst?

I was thinking maybe reader and Tech get lost or in a pickle on a mission and is feeling quite nervous as this hasn’t happened to her before and Tech tries his best to comfort her which could maybe lead to Tech admitting his feelings for her? OR you could do anything you absolutely wish 🤍

huge thanks if you choose to do this and don’t worry if not, also, take your time! 🤍

Thank you 😊

this is so cute! i went back and forth for awhile on if i should make it from the reader's perspective or tech's, but ultimately decided reader's. hope you enjoy!

—

Tech x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,786 words

Warnings: panic, panic attack (alluded too, not detailed/mentioned)

Genre: FLUFF, with a slight dashing of angst, as requested

Description: When a mission with Tech goes awry, feelings arise.

—

Stranded Lovers

—

“Right, do we all understand the mission?”

You had definitely not been listening to Hunter explain your upcoming mission.

It was hard. Not that Hunter did it intentionally, but sometimes he did kind of just drone on in a way. You knew he meant well, but you seemed to never be able to focus when it came time to debrief.

Not with Tech around. 

He was quite cute.

He was endearing, that was for sure. You always made time to listen to him, never minding how he spoke his mind. It was so inspiring. His honeyed eyes, pretty lips-

No, no. 

Tech was a member of the team, and he was a part of the group. There were no feelings to be involved, and certainly no ideas of “cuteness” surrounding Tech. You didn’t have the heart to cause such a disruption to the chaotic flow of the Batch’s already chaotic lifestyle. 

You had caught eyes with him during the briefing though.

He sometimes wondered if that look in your eyes meant something, and you sometimes wondered if that look in his eyes-

“Hey. Are you ready?” Hunter called out to you. The rest of the Batch had already made their way out onto the planet, awaiting your arrival. 

“Yes, of course! Sorry!” You called back, running to join the others, daydream abandoned.

“No problem. Alright team, I think it’s best we split up. Cross, Omega, you’re with me. Wrecker and Echo, you take that path…”

That meant-

Maker.

You prayed you would focus better during the actual mission than you had in the briefing.

“You two will take that other path, and we’ll meet you at the checkpoint. Got it?” Hunter finished, pointing at you and Tech.

“We will rendezvous at the checkpoint. Good luck,” Tech said, turning abruptly.

He began to walk towards the path Hunter had pointed out ahead, you slightly behind him.

He was cute in his helmet-

No. Focus.

You decided to focus on the surrounding nature, easing your mind off of cute genius engineers.

Or a cute genius engineer in this case.

Focus.

Cadmium green surrounded the two of you as you slowly began to make your way through the flora. Tropical sunny yellows and hued rosy pinks of flowers brushed your ankles, almost floating among the greenery around you. Dewy drops slowly trickling down slopes of plants, tiny splashes at your feet. 

It was gorgeous.

“Don’t touch that. It’s poisonous, and will likely kill you within approximately 30 minutes,” Tech called. 

You had stopped in your tracks upon seeing a towering, flowering plant. Crismons blossoms decorated the plant, soft green leaves tracing the flowers. In curiosity, you had slowly begun to reach for the plant. 

He hadn’t even been facing you.

“You got eyes in the back of your head?”

You heard a tsk sound as you began to follow the engineer again.

“I believe you mean ‘do you’, and no. It is physically impossible to have eyes in the back of your head. Furthermore, I believe the strain on both sets of eyes would be incredibly painful if humanoids were to possess eyes on the front of their face, and the back of their head,” Tech rambled. 

You decided for the rest of the journey, no hands would be making contact with beautiful, strange plants.

The two of you continued on, greenery enveloping you, shadows melting away into the forest. 

It was actually quite relaxing.

Russet roots overlapped the damp earth, the sun bearing life to the planet around you. The continuous flowering vegetation presented a strange sort of haven for the life that thrived within the earth. 

Rarely did any of you get these sights anymore. Between running from the Empire, working for Cid, it was all so… 

Much.

In a strange way, you always felt like you were running, even when you weren’t running anywhere at all. 

“I believe we are close to our checkpoint with the rest of the group.”

You were pulled from the depths of your mind, attention meeting the engineer’s face, almost running into him.

He quickly caught your arms, your feet stopping inches before him. 

Why were your arms so warm suddenly?

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

So much for not running anywhere.

He shot you a quick shake of his head, turning back around to forge ahead. He wondered if you had missed the smile that graced his face. 

“It should just be up ahead,” Tech stated, walking a bit ahead of you towards a large canopy of leaves.

He held back a few leaves for you, allowing the both of you to enter into a small clearing.

And…

There was nothing.

No Hunter, or Crosshair, no Echo and Wrecker, no Omega, nothing. 

Wasn't this supposed to be the checkpoint?

“Uh, Tech?”

“Yes?”

“Where are we?”

Tech began furiously typing into his datapad.

“I- I’m not sure. I thought I put in the correct coordinates,” Tech mumbled.

Suddenly the greenery wasn’t so relaxing anymore.

“We’re lost?” You asked, panic slowly beginning to rise in your stomach.

“I wouldn’t say that. Let me just check my coordinates.”

You tried to remain calm, reminding yourself that Tech was a genius in all aspects, and he would definitely figure-

“It seems we are in a blind spot. I have no signal.”

The panic didn’t settle, in fact, it rooted itself in your mind much like the lush trees you had witnessed earlier in your journey. It began to grow slowly as the seconds passed in the realization.

You were lost. 

On some random planet.

With no way to contact for help.

“So not only are we lost, we’re stranded?” You questioned, turning to face the clone with wide eyes.

“It would seem so. No signal also means no comms, so it seems for the time being, we are in fact stranded,” Tech stated simply, seeming completely fine.

You were stranded on a foreign planet in the middle of nowhere, no Batch, and certainly no way to contact for help.

The jungle began closing in.

“What are we going to do?!”

Tech was surprised by your sudden outburst, yet he hadn’t quite caught on to the slow panic building within your mind.

“I suppose we shall wait, hoping the others will eventually stumble on us,” Tech declared.

The leaves felt like they were slowly unfurling, reaching to grab you. Flowers that were suddenly not only poisonous, but claustrophobic. Roots that would soon grab you by the legs, twisting you sideways.

“What if they don’t find us?!”

“I assure you we will be fine. The others will-”

“But what if we are stranded here for hours?! We don’t have rations! We have no way of knowing if this planet gets cold at night, and what if our blacks won’t keep us warm enough?! What if the others never find us, and what if-”

“Hey.”

You had somehow ended up on the ground, shaking. The panic of being lost, the thought of never finding your way plagued you. Your eyes frantically began searching the ground for an escape, your breathing erratic.

“Breathe.”

Tech once again took hold of your arms, warmth seeping through his gloves and armor. With shaky, but steady breaths, you followed Tech in a silent cycle of regulating your mind once again.

He hated seeing you like this.

For Tech, it was just another mishap on a mission, one he would correct for all future missions. He saw it as nothing more than just a mistake.

Somehow, his helmet had been abandoned in the panic, yet he hoped he was more comforting than a modulator. Your eyes had still been facing the ground, and he supposed the ground at this moment was more comforting.

“There you go, mesh’la,” he whispered quietly, your figure slowly relaxing.

The nature was no longer closing in.

The slight jitters in your stomach from Tech’s touch certainly were though.

Wait.

What had he just called you?

“What did you just call me?”

He stared.

He hadn’t meant to let that one slip.

“I- It’s a… Mando’a term of endearment.”

He had begun slowly rubbing circles with his thumbs on your arms. Jittery flutters danced in your stomach. 

Neither of you could look away.

“What’s it mean?”

It was as if you were both on autopilot, neither wanting to move, yet too entranced to stop.

Words were lost, there was no need for them now.

It was soft when his lips met yours. Delicate, like the leaves that had encapsulated the flowers you had seen. His hands had stilled against your arms, locked into place.

Locked into you.

Soon, slow became fast, feverish lips that devoured your own, a soft whine painting your lips as Tech pinched your bottom lip with his teeth. 

You wanted more, the pull of a magnet attracting you back to him, yet the lack of oxygen was soon enveloping you.

Tech pulled back, both of you gasping for air. A crooked smile spread on his face.

His heart skipped when he saw a matching smile curl on your lips.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, settling to place a peck on your forehead.

You thought you were going to faint, and not from a lack of air.

“How long have you thought about doing that?” You whispered, warmth growing as he suddenly became bashful. 

Maker, he was even more cute with that pinkish tint on his nose.

“For quite some time… mesh’la.”

This must have been some kind of heaven.

“Well it’s good that I’ve-”

“Hey! I found them!” A shout rang out.

Suddenly, Wrecker came tumbling through the flora in the clearing, followed by the rest of the Batch.

“Hey! You guys okay? We were super worried about you when you didn’t comm in at the checkpoint,” Wrecker exclaimed.

The sweet heaven around you broke, the jungle once again surrounding you as Tech, ever the gentleman, helped you up.

“Tech got us stranded.”

“Lost. I got us lost.”

“Stranded.”

“Lost.”

“Okay, that’s enough from you two. Let’s get back to the checkpoint and finish up this mission,” Hunter asserted, breaking up the ensuing back-and-forth.

The others began to slowly make their way back through the forest, though the strange look and smile from the boys and Omega was not lost on either of you.

As you both began to follow the Batch through the foliage, Tech trailed a bit behind the rest to catch the two of you alone again.

He caught your hand, lacing his own gloved fingers through yours. 

“I wouldn’t mind getting stranded again, mesh’la. I don’t think we were quite finished.”

He was so much more than endearing.

You smiled softly, catching that pinky hue on his nose again.

“I wouldn’t mind that either, Tech.”

—

tagging the lovely @nahoney22, as well as a few others! @hellothere-generalangsty @eyecandyeoz @baddest-batchers @moonstrider9904

If any of those tagged, or anyone else is interested in being on my taglist, here is the form to fill it out, or leave your interest in the comments. You can also find my taglist form on my pinned post!

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[3vergr3en]

Hi again! I also have this idea of hate fucking Nicholas. He’s getting on my nerves these past few episodes and ofc I love him but I kinda have this fantasy of a wild night with nico where yeah you dislike each other but also have unexplainable desire to HAVE each other right then and there.

Of course, only if you like the idea and are comfortable writing it! Thanks love

🥂 Entangled Desires

(⛓) PAIRING . brother’s!bestfriend!idol!nicholas x fem!reader

(💿) CONTENT . contains mature writing, MDNI.

(📞) A/N . ugh anon, your brain is so yummy 😫😫 Ik what you mean babes, he gives me so— nonchalant but cocky type of vibe that although you know he’s the last person you should consider to let inside your pants, you have this burning desire to fuck him bc you know that he’d fuck you good.

Brother’s!best!friend!Nicholas was always deemed a cocky man. You will never understand how he is best friends with your brother. Euijoo is kind, considerate, and humble. Nicholas is the polar opposite of all of those things.

You thought that little egoism of his would burn out by the end of high school, but it had just gotten so much worse as all three of you grew into adults. It's almost tragic that no one else can see past that ‘I’m so nice and caring’ facade. Not even his fans, not his band members, and unfortunately not Euijoo. Your poor brother has been so oblivious to this, which isn't surprising because he always prioritize the good in people that he oversees the bad. But Nicholas being the little asshole he is, always keeps this crack open for you to peer in, getting a real close look to see his intentions. Wanting you make you seem crazy when you try to warn your brother about him.

He loves to push you over your limits. That little obsession of his started when you three were teens. He’d snatch your clean clothes when you went to shower in the locker rooms after the gym. And he’d only give it back if you..

“Beg nicely for them.” He hums behind you, lips narrowly touching your earlobe.

Startled, you let out a small yelp as you quickly whipped your body around, hands clutching the towel that wrapped around your naked figure that hid beneath. But that fear resided into annoyance remarkably quickly when you saw that stupid, smug grin on his face. “Give. Those. Back. Yixiang.” You muttered, irritation clearly audible in your tone.

He shakes his head disappointingly, “I’ll repeat myself again. Beg. Nicely.” Nicholas recites, giving you a brief, not-so-genuine smile. “C’mon, let me hear you.” His voice deepens when he insists, taking a step forward.

But as much as you hate him, your body tends to react otherwise. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel anything whenever he’d talk to you with such assertion. Especially when he would look at you in a certain way that would make your knees buckle. But being the stubborn person you are, you push past your hormones practically screaming at you and be a big girl. “I’m not begging for shit. Especially not for you.”

“Yeah? Well let’s see about that.”

.

And unfortunately, it continues as you guys are now adults. But instead of verbally taunting you, he’s taken a step further with being more.. physical.

You find yourself hanging out with the group during your free time. Whether it was at their practice rooms, their dorm, or out somewhere— you like being around them and its vise versa for them,, besides one person in particular. And he takes it upon himself to make sure that whenever he sees you, he’d try to have you reeling for the rest of the night.

Tonight, you and the guys were out getting dinner. And unfortunately, the man you oh, so despised had deliberately chosen to sit right next to you— so shocking. “Not tonight, Yixiang. Just let me eat in peace.” You speak, swirling the red liquid around in your glass before taking a long sip.

You fail to notice his eyes gazing down at you, at your figure specifically. The way that mini-dress rode up your thighs and how low-cut the top was, your breasts nearly spilling out if he just.. tug the fabric down. He’s practically eye-fucking you without any shame.

He inches his lips towards your ear, getting real close where you can feel his warm breath on your neck. “No funny business, Nicholas.” You warn once more, eyes darting between the others who were engrossed in their own conversations to notice the two of you who sat at the end.

His big, vainy hand found a place on your bare thigh. His cold rings making contact with your warm skin, making you lightly hiss through gritted teeth. “You look like a whore in that dress. Pretty hot I’d say.” His words rung in your ear, thumb caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh.

You go to wrap your hands around his wrist, contemplating if you should stop him.. or move his hand closer to there. “Wow, so kind coming from a guy like you.” You murmured, side-eyeing him with an unamused expression written all over your face.

“Hm, you say that.. but I can practically feel how hot you are.” He whispers, taking your earlobe in between his teeth to bite on. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough that it makes you squeeze your thighs together— trapping his hand in between your legs.

“Just admit it. You want me.” He adds on, prying your legs apart. “Tell me how badly you want my fingers inside of you.” His voice velvety smooth, just like his fingers as they trace up your thigh till it reaches your underwear.

“I don’t want you touching anywhere on me.” You breathe out, chest heaving as you feel yourself growing hotter.

“Is that so? So you would stop me if I did.. something like this?” He asked, his index and middle finger rubbing your clit through the cotton fabric.

You take in a sharp breath, eyelids threatening to close as you let yourself indulge in the feeling a little bit. “What would the others say if they saw you like this? What would your brother say, hm?” His voice taunts you, but its turning you on even more. And he can feel that as your wetness seeped through your underwear.

Your eyelids shoots open as reality hits you. You’re out at dinner right now. In front of people. In front of your brother who sat oblivious next to you.

He quickens the pace on his fingers, “N-Not here, Yixiang.” You reply, biting down your bottom lip to suppress a moan.

And just like that, he stops.

You gawk at him, eyes hooded with need that couldn’t compare to how his was. Nicholas stared at you with lips slightly parted, deep breaths and eyes filled with lust that sent shivers down your spine. “Meet me in the car in 5.” Is all he said before excusing himself.

.

You don’t know what happened, but you found yourself being pulled into the back seat of his car, and onto his lap with a pair of lips eagerly attaching onto yours. No words were shared, but you both can feel the yearning that was exchanged.

Your hands were found to be in his hair, gently tugging his black locks as he kissed you feverishly. Your heads swayed in a rhythm to match the desperation that was oozing out of you guys.

He momentarily pulls away to catch his breath, and he swears to himself when he allows himself to take in the sight before him. Your hair was disheveled, lips swollen and parted to let out staggering breaths but were glistening in his saliva, and the straps of your dress were hung past your shoulders— top threatening to fall down.

“You look so—“ He was cut short when you kiss him, taking him aback. And a groan emits from his throat when you grind your clothed cunt against his crotch. “Fucking slut.” He curses in between kisses, hands groaping at your ass.

“Shut the fuck up.” You retaliate, lips parting to let out a series of whimpers as his kisses made their way down to your neck. Your flesh was found to be in between his teeth, nibbling on the skin to form red bruises— him knowing that it’ll appear darker for the next occurring days.

You slip the straps off of your arms, allowing the top of your dress to fall freely— your breasts spilling out of its confines. “Fuck. Such gorgeous tits.” You hear him say, one of his hands traveling up your sides till he cups one of the soft flesh in his palms.

“Hurry up Yixiang, before I get dry.” You warn, hands desperately reaching under to undo the belt of his pants. But was stopped with a hand around your wrist, halting you.

“Beg for it then.”

“Fuck you.” You spat.

But his other hand was quick to wrap around your neck and the moan that followed from you was enough to feed his already high of an ego. He pulls you closer to him, lips ghosting over yours. “Beg for it or else I’m leaving you here.” You would’ve thought he was kidding, but knowing him, he’s a man of his word.

He pinches his fingers into the side of your throat, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to give you a warning.

“Please, give it to me, Nicholas.. I want it.” You plea, rolling your hips around in attempt to rub your clothed cunt on his prominent bulge. “Please, Yixiang?”

The way you said his name made something within him internally snap. Was it you calling out for him? Maybe you saying his name in such a seductive manner? Or maybe it’s the fact that you’re finally begging him, especially when it’s for him to fuck you.

He flips you two over with his hand pinning you down onto the seat cushion by your throat. “Such a good girl.” He hums with a cocky smile, halting his movements to dip down and give you a gentle kiss, “All you could’ve done was beg like a good slut and maybe then I could’ve fucked you earlier than now.”

You reacted to that statement with a moan that was not intended to come out, but hey, does it matter at this point? “God, I knew you were a slut— but I didn’t know how much. You’ve probably been waiting for me to fuck you for a while now, hm?” And you nod. You nod desperately. Finally succumbing into your desires all these years.

He leans down to take your lips with his once more, but this kiss was more passionate than lustful. It was as if he was confessing his similar desires, but with a more personal touch to it.

In that interim, his pants were pulled down and discarded, along with his underwear and shirt. Your dress was bunched up to your waist, revealing your lower half. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered against your lips as he pumps himself in his hand.

“Please, Nicholas,, I—I need you.” You mewl, hands finding themselves on him. One cupping the side of his face, and one pressed flat against his bare chest.

Your underwear was pulled to the side by his fingers, and he allowed the head of his cock to slide between your slicked folds. He thought you may needed prep, but with how much of his cock was being smothered in your arousal, you didn’t need it. His mouth hung open in awe as he watches how easily he’s gliding between you. “You’re so wet, princess.” The pet name rolls off his tongue so smoothly that it makes you clench around nothing but air. You gasp when his head continuously nudges against your clit, giving you the stimulation you needed. He pulls his hips back, grabbing the shaft of his cock to align his tip to your entrance. “Gon’ let me rub this pretty clit, hm?” He coos, his hand reaching up to rub fast circles along the bundle of nerves. “Oh my god—!” You moan as you feel him start to push himself into you.

The sensation of his cock prying your walls apart so deliciously was enough to have your head lolling back with his name slipping off your tongue in a desperate manner. You were concerned with how long you were gonna last when you already felt this good when he wasn’t even fully in yet.

“Oh, fuck.” Nicholas groans as your heat engulfed him tightly. “You’re so tight, fuck. Don’t know why I didn’t fuck this pussy before.” With one push of his hips, he fully bottoms out inside of you— and in unison, you both moan out in pure bliss. Nicholas’s eyes momentarily flutters shut as your warm, gummy walls squeezing him tight was a sensation he didn’t know he needed so badly in his lifetime.

“J-Just.. give me a moment.” You breathe out, your fingers gently taps his chest to indicate that you need a little time to get used to his size. And he gladly onliges without hesitation. Probably the first time where he went along with your wishes. Once you felt more relaxed, you didn’t waste any more time to let him know. “M-Move, please.”

He started with a slow but steady pace, making sure not to overwhelm you although the thing he wants to do to you right now is to fuck you senseless. But he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy seeing your face contort in pleasure, moans slipping freely past those plump lips. “Yixiang..!” You gasp when a particular thrust had your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Yeah, princess? Does this spot feel good?” He rolls his hips experimentally, wanting to get another reaction like that out of you. And just as he thought, another delicious cry emits from you. “Tell me, does it feel good?” He questions, beginning to pick up the pace. You want to reply, but you’re unable to voice it out at the moment when the tip of his cock keeps hitting at a certain spot that makes your vision blur. “Yixiang! Oh fuck!” You cry as he starts snapping his hips against yours. The force of his thrusts were powerful enough to have you hike up the seat if it weren’t for his hand pinning you down by your neck. “M-More! Oh my god!”

Nicholas had to ground himself from losing his control. But it doesn’t necessarily help when he has the girl of his dreams writhing underneath him, taking his cock like a fucking champ. He forces his eyes to stay open rather than closing them and letting himself get lost in his head and potentially lasting shorter than he anticipated to. Which is the last thing he wants when he finally has you to himself.

You looked so beautiful under right now. The way your glossy eyes gazes at him with such a distinct look of desperation, your furrowed brows of concentration to not finish that quickly, and those beautiful moans that made him want to listen to for hours on end.

You were feeling like you were nearing your end, and the pressure in your lower abdomen was a huge factor. “Y-Yixiang, I’m gonna cum!” You announce with a shaky voice, sharp breaths along with a mantra of his name follows afterwards. And he can definitely feel it too with the way your clamping down on him was dangerously pushing him to cumming inside of you. “Fuck, you feel so good, princess. Come with me, okay? Just hold on a little longer.” He urges you, dipping down to leave open-mouthed kisses on your flushed cheek.

You nod in response, wanting to come with him. But with each passing moment was harder for you. Your hands latched onto his sweaty back, nails digging into the smooth flesh, dragging along his skin as you desperately tried to suppress your growing need to come. “Please, Nicholas!”

He grabbed the back of your knees and pushed them up to your chest, essentially folding you in half. When he pushed himself up onto his knees, he began slamming his hips down onto yours, reaching a deeper angle in this position. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, y/n.” Hot, fat tears starts rolling down your cheeks as the pressure became unbearable for you to hold. But with one last thrust, his hips were flushed against your ass, and just like that— the knot within your stomach comes undone. A lewd cry leaves your lips as waves of your orgasm washed over you, leaving you to ride it out. With your name spilling out, he spills his load into your sopping cunt. Filling you up so much to the point where his cum began seeping out of your hole.

You guys stayed like that for a few more seconds until he eventually has to pull out, resulting in you whining as even that sensation was overwhelming for you. Your hands reach out to hold his, “D-Don’t go,, stay here for a minute, please?” You breathe out heavily, eyelids threatening to close on you. Nicholas couldn’t help but chuckle as he goes to lay down beside you. He engulfs you into his arms, making sure your naked figure was covered by his. “Wasn’t planning on it, princess.” He whispers, kissing your temple. “Whatever.. I know you would.” You mumble, sighing in content when his hand would gently massage your thigh. “Hm, I’m a little hurt, princess. After all these years, you still don’t know me.”

“I think I know you a little too well.” You respond, looking over your shoulder to give him a small smile.

“Yeah? On a scale of 1-10, how much do you think I wanna go for round 2?”

[quintinh43]

Washing their back/hair in the shower.

oooo i could see luke loving his girlfriend washing his hair and she always does he curl routine for him

Toast my love 🥹 Thank you for requesting

-

The buzzer blared through the speakers of the TV, and you winced. The devils lost 5-4 in a shootout. Luke looked absolutely exhausted in his post game interview. It ticked you off a little that they made him do them so often. It's like they forgot he was a rookie sometimes.

Lukey The Loml: Be at urs in 20

You: Ok, drive safe love. See you in 20 ❤️

You paced around your apartment anxiously while you waited. You heard his footsteps in the hall, and before he even had a chance to stick his key in the lock, you were flinging the door open and holding your arms out to him.

Luke stepped over the threshold of the door, dropped his bag, and collapsed into your arms with a sigh. The height difference has him hunching over awkwardly for him to bury his face against your neck. His arms lock around your waist, and he sighs, melting further into the warmth of your body.

You card your fingers through his curls, fingers catching on all the knots from wearing his helmet for so long. You tug him further into your apartment, kicking the door shut as you go. He doesn't protest when you lead him to the bathroom and detangle him from your embrace to turn on the shower.

"You played so well, my darling boy," you say softly, helping him strip.

He gives you a tired smile, "Thanks, baby."

You make quick work of your own clothing and pull him into the shower. He groans, rolling his shoukders as the hot water hits his back. "Fuck I'm tired," he mutters attempting to run a hand through his hair. His fingers catch on the tangles, and he grunts frustratedly, yanking at his hair.

"Sit down, darling, I got you," you say, tugging his hand from his hair gently, and guiding him to sit on the shower seat, he does so without complaint, closing his eyes and ducking his head under the hot stream of water. He rests his hands on your hips, rubbing gentle circles with the pads of his thumbs.

You pop open the shampoo bottle, squirting some in your palms and lathering it up. The scent of coconut and vanilla melds with the steam, and your fingers delve into his curls once again, massaging at his scalp expertly. He melts against you with a happy sigh, his forehead resting against your torso.

Luke will never get tired of having you wash his hair, and honestly, you'll never get tired of washing it for him. Your fingers move in gentle cirlcles from the top of his head to his temples to the back of his neck. You detach the shower head and rinse the shampoo out of his hair before reaching for the conditioner.

You spread it all over your palms and drag your hands through the ends of his hair, working out all the knots with practiced ease. Luke had never been a post game ritual guy. As long as he had a shower, snack, and got to sleep, he was good. Until you came along, with your whirlwind of hair products and showed him the wonders of having his hair washed by another person.

Now, whenever he had the opportunity, he pulled you into the shower with him and made you wash and style his hair. You scrub him down gently and rinse out the conditioner. If he notices the floral scent of the body wash, rather than whatever the fuck Night panther smells like, he doesn't comment. Although you know he likes your bodywash better.

You hand Luke a towel and wrap one around yourself before padding to the bedroom and grabbing a change of clothes for the pair of you. Sweats and a hoodie for Luke, and one of his sweat shirts and shorts for yourself.

Luke takes the change of clothes from you and plants a kiss on your temples, "Thank you, baby."

As soon as the two of you are clothed, Luke is hoisting you onto the bathroom counter and standing between your legs patiently, his hands rest on your thighs, tracing shapes absent-mindedly. You lock your legs around his hips, ensuring he's as close as possible while you run product through his still wet hair.

Leave in conditioner, scrunch, then gel and scrunch again.

You twirl a couple of wonky looking curls around your finger to make them coil neatly. You twist around to wash the product off your hands and then pull him in for a sweet kiss. Luke kisses you back softly, cupping your face with so much care that it makes your heart gooey in your chest.

You pull away, panting softly as you rest your forehead against his. "Come on, i'll make you a snack and we'll cuddle on the couch and watch a movie. Ok?"

Luke can't resist pressing another kiss to your lips, hoping he can pour all the love he feels into it. "Thanks for making me feel better."

"It's nothing darling, that's what I'm here for," you shrug.

"I love you so much," he murmurs, pressing fluttering kisses to your cheeks, "more than I have words for,"

Your cheeks warm, and you smile shyly.

"I love you too, my darling, with my whole heart."

[writerblue275]

Hii may I request heartsteel lads and how first kisses goes?? :3

First kisses with Heartsteel!

Hi hi hi lovely anon, of course you can!! Thank you for requesting, this is such a cute idea! I’ll keep this to just first kisses, but I’ll definitely make a general kisses headcanon at some point.

Inspiration: Love a good first kiss moment.

Genre: Headcanon

Type: Fluff

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader!

TW: Swearing. Slight discussion of rebellious activities (lmao guess for which member).

Extra: Some of these I felt like I could keep completely in bullet form, but some others I felt required more set up, so there’s some prose interspersed.

Aphelios

Definitely happens further down the line when things are really getting serious. Aphelios just gives me the “takes it slow but he’s in it for the long haul” vibes (love it! You go king). It takes a while for him to let someone in, but once he does, you know you’re extremely important to him.

So you’ve been dating him maybe two-three months now. And while he hasn’t kissed you yet, there have been other kinds of physical moments (like hand holding, cheek kisses, slight cuddling, some pet names, that sort of thing) that have progressed that shows things are moving well in the right direction.

Not to mention the subtle things. Like the way he thumb lingers a little on the corner of your lips as he wipes away some ice cream your napkin missed. Or how he has to look away when you bite your lip. (Because he wants to be the one to do so. 😝) Just other subtle things that seem to signal Aphelios is ready to take that next physical step with you. You just have to figure out how to ask him in a way that won’t spook him.

One of the things you two do together? Well he’s teaching you sign language. Or at least the basics. He fully doesn’t expect you to sign all the time, hell he doesn’t even do that. But since he has to be careful to protect what remains of his voice, he does use sign language as one way of communication.

And you being the kind, wonderful partner that you are, you want to learn to sign too. Communication with your partner is so important and of course you want to be able to communicate with Aphelios as effectively as possible, so you asked him for help. (He’s so touched that you’re taking the time/making the effort to do that for him btw. Learning any new language is extremely difficult.)

So one night, after a date, when you two are just vibing together on the couch in his studio, you and Aphelios decide to play a little game that has become common for the two of you. You sign something and he grades your signing, telling/showing you what, if anything, you can do better. And for the most part it’s just been fairly basic signs and phrases.

But little does he know, you’ve been practicing more than just simple phrases at home.

Can I practice signing some questions?, you ask.

Yes, he signs. Of course! What do you have for me tonight, cutie?

You smile brightly and blush at the pet name, making him smile in response.

You start off with some basics. What is your name? How are you doing? Where are you from? Those sorts of questions. And you watch carefully as Aphelios helps you make any adjustments to clarify your signing.

“Phel, can I try and ask something more….personal? I-I want to make sure I have it down” You ask, your voice getting a little shy. You know you’re taking a risk, but you really like him and you just want to confirm he’s on the same page as you. That the connection you’ve felt isn’t just one-sided.

His eyebrows go up in surprise but he nods. Of course, he signs. What is it? You’ve really peaked his curiosity now. Especially with how shy you got.

So you take a deep breath to settle your nerves….and another one…before finally blushing deeply and signing, Will you kiss me? (You sign it flawlessly btw. You practiced for DAYS as you gathered the courage to ask him.)

His eyes widen and he blinks at you for a few moments, giving you a good clue that you did ask what you intended to.

As the silence drags on for a few moments longer and you see Aphelios try to process what you just asked, you fear you’ve made a terrible mistake of things and you start to just completely panic.

“Sh-shit Phel I’m so sorry! Oh god, I made you uncomfortable, didn’t I…Please forget I asked. Please forget I said anything! Oh I ruined everything…I’m so so so sorry. I’ll go. Please can we pretend like this didn’t happ-mm?”

You’re so frazzled and upset with yourself you didn’t even notice Phel sign absolutely yes before leaning over and kissing you slowly, his fingers threading in your hair, completely cutting off your panicked rambling.

And when he pulls away? This time you’re the one left staring at him in surprise, blinking rapidly for a few moments before smiling widely as he signs back to you, There. Now will you kiss me, please? And of course you’re more than happy to oblige. He said please, after all.

Ezreal

I think Ezreal would kiss earlier on in a relationship. His love language (giving) is physical touch and kisses are included in that. And of course with him, your first kiss is going to be fun and sweet because those are the vibes Ez gives off like 95% of the time.

In this instance the two of you are at an arcade for a date. You’ve noticed he’s been giving more and more signs that he wants to kiss you. Subtle (he thinks) glances down to your lips when the two of you are talking or the way his lips linger when he kisses you on the cheek after walking you to your door post-date. And well…you want to kiss him too. In fact you have a little plan to help move things along.

You asked Alune, who introduced the two of you, what Ezreal’s favorite arcade machine is before-hand and she immediately responded ski-ball. She told you he’s a god at ski-ball and how no one in Heartsteel will play with him anymore because he always wins. Always. His aim is just unmatched. (Though Phel is certainly practicing hard to beat him.)

So what do you do? You challenge Ezreal in ski-ball of course! But the stakes have to be raised. What’s the fun without some flirty competition?

Him: “And if I win? What do I get? Your tickets? Dinner? A kiss?” *Said with a little cocky smirk* (Of course.)

You: *grin widely at him* “Yeah sure, I’ll kiss you. Deal.”

Him: *His eyes wide and he’s very alert now* “Wait, actually??”

You: *smirks* “I mean what I say, Ezreal. You know that. Besides, I’m sure I’ll win, so why does it matter? You know how competitive I get.” (Muahaha, clever you. You got him hook, line, and sinker.)

Oh now it’s ON. He’s fully tuned in. You can tell his competitive nature made him play right into your plan. He wants that kiss.

And he’s absolutely going to get it. Ez is rolling a perfect game. Like it doesn’t take long for winning to be completely out of reach for you. So you pause to watch him, eventually starting to laugh before just going for it, leaning over and kissing him deeply (of course it’s just as he sinks the shot to break the high score record on the machine).

And once he gets over the initial surprise, he very eagerly kisses you back, one of his hands cupping your cheek. And the kiss lasts for a lovely few moments before you gently pull back and smile widely at him.

“If you wanted to kiss me to badly,” you let out on a giggle, “you could have just asked, you know. Hopefully I won’t have to knowingly embarrass myself at ski-ball again to get another kiss from you.”

Ezreal laughs shyly and kisses you again, letting his arms wrap around you. “Of course not. Happy to kiss yo- wait a second did you say ‘knowingly?’ What do you mean? How’d you even know I love ski-ball? I didn’t tell you that.”

You grin. “How do you think? Alune told me! I asked her what your favorite arcade machine was. It was clear I needed to take matters into my own hands since though I could tell you wanted to kiss me, you’re such a gentleman,” you tease playfully before kissing his cheek.

Somewhere else in the city, Alune starts laughing loudly, surprising a gaming Aphelios, as she receives a text message from Ezreal:

Ezreal: Name anything you want. Dead serious. I don’t care what, it’s yours. You’re the BEST. THANK YOU!!!

Alune: 😂 Holding you to that. Glad (Y/N)’s plan worked!

Ezreal: 👍👍

Kayn

Something tells me that Kayn would kiss earlier on in a relationship. Not that it’s a bad thing! I definitely don’t think it is. And he wouldn’t do so unless he thought you returned his feelings. He’s a rebel, not an asshole. He’d never force himself on someone.

All that aside, there is something to be said for Kayn’s recklessness playing into his first kiss with you.

I don’t think it would happen on a planned date. Kayn strikes me as more of a “go with the flow” sort of guy, at least until things are getting serious. Then he’d actually plan out dates. Otherwise spending time with him early on in your relationship consists of him calling or texting you and saying, “Hey, I’m doing ______ tonight or tomorrow. Want to come with? Food’s on me?”

And these “things” can range from errands (he just like being in your presence, ok?) to actual events like concerts or other things like that.

And ok, like 90% of what Kayn calls you for are things that are law-abiding. But there is that 10%. That piece of him who still loves to rebel and do things for the adrenaline. Don’t worry though, when you do those sorts of things with him, he won’t let you get in trouble. He’s a pro.

In this case, the two of you are sitting on a random roof in the city after going around and doing things you definitely shouldn’t be doing. (On a completely unrelated note: A couple city cop cars have some lovely new colorful decorations on them.)

And the two of you are just quietly laughing together and watching the moon, the adrenaline from the shenanigans you two participated in still going through your veins.

And Kayn looks over at you, admiring how attractive you look and how happy you make him. And he can’t help it as he reaches over and takes your hand. When you don’t pull away, he just quietly says “Ah fuck it…” and goes for it. He leans over, gently tangling his free hand in your hair, and kisses you absolutely breathless.

Kayn can’t help but chuckle once he pulls away as he sees the slightly dazed (but very happy) expression on your face.

And once you finally get your wits back about you and go to return the favor, he’s so relieved you feel the same way as him.

K’Sante

Not the earliest member to have a first kiss with their partner, but definitely not the latest. K'Sante is for sure somewhere in the middle.

And with K'Sante? Your first kiss with him is almost a little...accidental? Not in a bad way, but the circumstances surrounding just were slightly unexpected.

But the chemistry between the two of you is undeniable. You can definitely feel a lovely sort of tension building in your mundane acts of physical affection. But neither of you have taken the final step to kiss the other person yet.

But that’s about to change. K'Sante is taking you out on the town for the night. The evening starts with a really delicious dinner at a really really nice restaurant (where of course he made a reservation because this man PLANS).

This is then followed up by getting ice cream and him driving the two of you to a secluded point that overlooks the city. You two can just enjoy each other's company (as well as the yummy ice cream) while he also plays some music from a little bluetooth speaker he brought that connects to his phone and relaxing on a lovely picnic blanket he has in his trunk. (1000000/10 vibes like oh my god?)

Now something that K'Sante does, he uses his phone as little as possible on dates with you. He wants to be fully present in the moment and enjoy what moments he can when he's with you.

So that's why he's so surprised when he turns on his phone to play music (since he had it off during dinner and the drive with you) to find 7 missed calls from Alune.

"Shit," he murmurs.

“Everything ok, K’Sante?” You ask, feeling concerned as you take in his furrowed brow.

“Looks like I have a bunch of missed calls from our manager. Normally she doesn’t call me unless something is wrong….”

“Uh oh…and since she called so many times….Call her back. I don’t mind,” You tell him.

“You sure? I don’t want to be disrespectful,” he says.

This makes you smile. “K’Sante, you are one of the most respectful people I know. Checking to see if there’s an emergency isn’t disrespecting me,” you reassure him.

And after another minute or two of warring with himself, he does. He realizes he wouldn’t be able to stop worrying about what’s going on if he didn’t, and that’s not fair to you. He puts the phone on speaker. Since it’s affecting your date, he figures you might as well get to learn what’s going on too.

As Alune picks up the call, you hear her groan. “Finally, K’Sante! I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours! Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

“Alune, I told you I had a date with (Y/N) tonight. I’m still on the date, actually, and you’re on speaker,” he chuckles.

“Hi!” You shyly say.

You hear Alune sigh. “Hi, (Y/N)! I apologize. I didn’t mean to interrupt your date. I just have really exciting news for K’Sante and I wanted to tell him as soon as possible.”

“And you couldn’t leave a message??” K’Sante asks.

“And miss your live reaction to this? Or at least your audible reaction? Absolutely not! (Y/N), would you like to hear it too? It’s actually better that you’re with him so he has someone to celebrate with!”

You perk up and smile at K’Sante, relieved nothing is wrong and beyond curious what the news is. “Sure!! I won’t tell anyone either so don’t worry about that.”

K’Sante drums his fingers on the ground impatiently. “Alright Alune, spit it out. What am I celebrating?”

“K’Sante, they accepted your design for the up-and-coming designer show during Spring/Summer Fashion Week! And not only that, but they want YOU to walk in it! You get to model your own design!”

You gasp and squeeze his hand as she reveals the amazing news, your eyes locked on his expression. “K’Sante!!! Holy shit that’s amazing!! They’re so lucky to have you in their show!” As you talk, you can see just the biggest flurry of emotions playing over his features as he’s stunned silent, his eyes locked on yours.

You laugh softly, “Alune, I think you might have broken him. He’s just staring at me.” You smile widely back at him and go to hug him.

As you get closer, it’s like he’s finally back in his own body, and his expression lands on pure joy as he leans over and cups your cheeks, kissing you deeply for a moment before pulling you into a tight hug and starting to laugh happily.

And your brain is now short circuiting in the best way possible because omg YES FINALLY. And as you pull back from the hug, you gently brush your lips over his and whisper happily, “Congratulations, K’Sante. You deserve this.”

“I know you mean the Fashion Week stuff, but can that sentiment also apply to your kisses? Because I’ll be honest that was pretty great too,” he says as he quickly hangs up on Alune.

You just laugh and nod before kissing him again as your answer.

Sett

While I don’t think Sett would kiss super early on in a relationship, I also don’t think he’d take the longest either. Like maybe a few dates in? Whenever he feels things starting to really get serious with you. And this would be after some earlier physical things like hand holding or kisses on the cheek, etc, and he’s letting you dictate the pace of anything physical. (Once again repeat after me: “Ma didn’t raise a jackass.”)

But anyway, as you’ve gotten to know Sett better, he’s shown you different facets of himself. Like for example, you know he’s fit as fuck (I mean you see the evidence right in front of you lmao) but one of the things you might not have known initially is that he is an excellent boxer. (A/N: We know this because base lore and the MV and shit but think from the perspective of a new partner.)

And while he doesn’t fight other people super often anymore due to his profession, he occasionally accepts a challenge from someone. (Much to Alune’s chagrin. Makeup can only hide so many injuries.)

So let’s say Sett accepts a challenge and he invites you to watch the fight with the rest of Heartsteel. (He absolutely wants to show off for you.)

And at his invitation, you go and visit him in his locker room before the fight, just to show him you made it ok and to wish him luck. “Not that I think you’ll need it, Sett. You’ll kick his ass, I’m sure.”

That makes him laugh and banishes away any lingering doubts/nervousness in his mind. “Well of course I’ll kick his ass. He’s fighting “The Boss” after all. There’s a reason I have that nickname. Besides, you’re here. Like I told you, you’re my good luck charm. With you cheering me on he doesn’t stand a chance.”

As Sett is talking you see his eyes flash briefly down to your lips a couple times. But he doesn’t say anything further. So you take the initiative. It’s not like you don’t want to kiss him. You absolutely do.

“Hey Sett?” you ask, feeling bold. “Would you…like a kiss for good luck? You know…so I can make sure my good luck charm potential is fully maximized?”

And you can tell by his smile and happy eyes that yes. Yes he would like a kiss for good luck actually. (Though his eager nodding definitely gives it away the most 😂.) So you give him one. And it’s sweet and happy and leaves both of you smiling and giggling/chuckling a bit once you pull away.

Oh Sett’s opponent doesn’t stand a fucking chance now. (Not that he did before but still.)

Yone

I definitely see Yone as one of, if not the most reserved member of Heartsteel (it's a race between him and Aphelios), so it’d take the longest to get to the point of a first kiss with him.

Not that he doesn’t want to kiss you earlier on. He absolutely does. But the very last thing he wants to do is to come on too strong or go too fast and scare you away. He really really likes you, after all.

A lot of what goes into Yone’s decision of finally going for it has to do with your body language. He’s looking for a sign that clearly says “ok yes, this person likes me back, I’m not crazy.”

As for the first kiss itself, it happens after a couple months with him, when he’s driving you home.

You can tell Yone wants to take that step and kiss you. You’ve noticed his gaze occasionally linger on your lips when he’s talking with you. Or the slight swallow he does whenever you bite your bottom lip while thinking. (Not to mention the slight twinge of pink that goes to his cheeks. Only you can get that reaction out of him.)

And suddenly you realize, he hasn’t kissed you yet not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’s such a damn gentleman and doesn’t want to come on too strong and make you uncomfortable. He wants a sign that you’re ok with him kissing you.

So once he parks the car in front of your building, you lean over, lace your fingers with his, and gently kiss his cheek, letting your lips linger for just a moment longer than what might be considered purely friendly/platonic. Then you whisper in his ear, loathe to break the comforting silence in his car, “You’re not as subtle as you think, Yone. I know you want to kiss me. I also want to kiss you so-”

You don’t even get to finish your thought before Yone’s hands are cupping your jaw and he’s leaned across the center console, kissing you breathless. And my god is it lovely. Sweet but still filled with a surprising amount of passion for a man who presents such a stoic facade to the world. You can’t help but grin like a happy fool once he gently pulls away.

He chuckles at your reaction, but internally his heart is racing. Kissing you was even better than he thought it would be (and his expectations were high).

He clears his throat and looks away shyly for a second as he regains his composure. “Forgive me for interrupting you…but would it be alright if I did that again in the future?”

His question makes you laugh and you lean back over to him and peck his lips. “Yone, you are more than welcome to do that anytime you’d like…you’ll hear no complaints from me.”

Thanks for reading! I absolutely loved getting this request and I hope I did it justice, anon! Got to play into some fun ideas here. 💙

[keehomania]

successors (후계자) — kim namjoon (김남준)

✧.* 18+

if you're born poor, that's not your fault. if you die poor, it's nobody's fault but yours. that was the way the world worked, and the only option was to live with it. whether you lived poor or lived rich, you lived with it. money was the essence of everything, it kept the world spinning. it was also the reason greed was the essence of man. all of the money mattered, even if it was a cent. it could buy anything in the world, except love.

the streets of busan bustled with life as you found yourself roaming the streets. it didn't feel like home, because it wasn't. your home or at least, what you made of it, resided on the outskirts of seoul. the poverty-stricken area that consisted of farmers and people with rich hearts, that was home. busan was thick with intensity, the sound of the night piercing your ears as you followed the coordinates your sister had sent you.

eunha was only a few years older than you, but she moved to busan the second she had the chance. she had found herself a boyfriend and, despite their recent break-up, she didn't regret the decision at all. the setting and environment itself had encouraged her to do better for herself, for her life. when she had first left, you hated her for it. you hated her for leaving you with your sick, mute mother, but you made peace with it. in the end, she was only looking to better herself and, now, she wanted you to play a role.

you knew she had struck gold as you reached the final address. truly, she had done well for herself. as you stood before the apartment door, you took a moment to admire the elegant building and the well-maintained surroundings. Tthe bustling city life outside faded into a peaceful anticipation as you approached her floor. eunha had clearly done well for herself, a stark contrast to the humble beginnings you both shared. the elevator ride up to the ninth floor felt like an eternity, your mind filled with memories of the two of you.

when you finally reached her apartment, you double-checked the number before knocking lightly. almost immediately, the door swung open, and she stood there with a wide smile. she looked radiant, her eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and relief at seeing you. without hesitation, she pulled you into a warm hug, engulfing you in her familiar, comforting scent. “(y/n), it’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine happiness. “come in, come in!”

you stepped inside, taking in the beautifully decorated interior. the apartment was spacious, modern, and filled with personal touches that screamed eunha. from the carefully selected furniture to the framed photographs of you both on various adventures, every corner of the space radiated her personality and hard work. “you’ve done really well for yourself,” you said, admiring the place. “i’m so proud of you.”

she beamed at your words, a mixture of pride and modesty in her expression. “thank you, (y/n). it hasn’t been easy, but it’s all starting to come together.” as you settled on the plush couch, she brought out a tray of snacks and tea, sitting down beside you. she looked at you with a curious glint in her eye.

“so, tell me everything about your journey here. how have you been?” she asked, pouring tea into delicate cups. you spent the next hour catching up, sharing stories and laughing over fond memories. eventually, the conversation shifted to her recent breakup. her expression turned a bit somber, but there was a determined look in her eyes.

“it’s been tough,” she admitted, stirring her tea absently. “but the heartbreak pushed me to focus on something bigger. i've started my own company, calling it hanbok group.” you raised your eyebrows in surprise, impressed by her ambition. “wow, that’s amazing, eunha. tell me more about it.”

her eyes lit up as she began to explain. “hanbok group is all about preserving and modernizing traditional korean clothing. i've been investing a lot of money into it, and it’s starting to gain traction. we’re not just selling hanboks; we’re creating a cultural movement, blending the old with the new.” you listened intently, absorbing her passion and determination. yet, a part of you felt a twinge of skepticism. “it sounds incredible. but are you sure this is the right move? starting a company is a huge risk, especially after what you’ve been through.”

she nodded, understanding your concern. “i know it’s risky, but i believe in this. i believe in preserving our culture and sharing it with the world. i just need a bit of support, and i'm confident it will work out.” seeing the fire in her eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of admiration. despite your reservations, you wanted to support her in any way you could.

“alright,” you said with a small smile. “let’s discuss it more in the morning. i want to hear all about your plans and see how i can help.” her face lit up with gratitude. “thank you, (y/n). that means a lot to me.”

the night passed with more conversation and laughter, the bond between you and your sister feeling stronger than ever. as you prepared for bed in the cozy guest room, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement for the days ahead. you couldn't help but notice the photo framed on the desk, just a few feet across the bed. it was a photo of eunha and her ex-boyfriend, the two of them on a beach. the sight of it practically made you shiver, an unsettling feeling engulfing you as you allowed yourself to fall asleep, just barely.

the next morning, you woke up to the comforting aroma of freshly washed sheets lingering in the air. however, as you groggily made your way to the kitchen, you noticed that eunha was nowhere to be found. you had assumed she had gone out to run some errands. feeling a bit more awake, you decided to venture out and find a cafe for your morning coffee. you grabbed your wallet and phone, then left the apartment, ready to explore the neighborhood.

after a short walk, you spotted a quaint cafe not too far from eunha’s apartment. the charming exterior and cozy ambiance drew you in. as you entered, you were immediately greeted by the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee and the soft hum of chatter. you made your way to the counter, scanning the menu. "these prices are insane," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head slightly. you paid no mind to your surroundings, entirely focused on the options before you.

just as you decided on your order and turned to move towards the counter, you bumped into someone. you stumbled back, eyes widening in horror as you saw the man in front of you with his coffee spilled all over his shirt. "oh shit, i'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, panicking and beginning to apologize frantically. "i wasn’t paying attention, i’m so sorry!"

the man laughed, a warm and genuine sound that immediately put you at ease. "it's okay, really. it was an ugly shirt anyway," he said with a playful smile. "i’m namjoon, by the way." you blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his easy-going demeanor. "i’m (y/n)," you introduced yourself, still feeling a bit flustered.

namjoon smiled again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "well, (y/n), you can make it up to me by having coffee with me. what do you say?" you nodded, grateful for his kindness. "of course, i’d love to."

after paying for the coffees, you both found a table by the window and settled in. the initial small talk was easy and flowed naturally. you discovered that namjoon was also from seoul, which led him to ask what you were doing in busan.

"i’m visiting my sister," you explained, taking a sip of your coffee. "she’s been working on a new business venture here." namjoon nodded, interest piqued. "that sounds exciting. what kind of business?"

"she’s started a company," you replied. "it’s focused on preserving and modernizing traditional korean clothing." before namjoon could respond, the sound of heels clicking against the floor and a sharp cough interrupted your conversation. both of you turned to see a woman with long, black hair and bangs standing nearby, an impatient expression on her face.

"namjoon, what are you doing?" she asked, her tone clipped. he sighed, his earlier ease replaced with mild irritation. "just having coffee, soyeon. this is (y/n)," he gestured to you, "we had a little accident with the coffee."

she shot you a glare before turning her attention back to him. "i’m his fiancée," she declared, her tone possessive. you noticed namjoon rolling his eyes slightly at her introduction. she quickly grabbed his arm, pulling him away. he managed to offer you a small, apologetic smile. "i’ll see you around, (y/n)," he said, his voice filled with a hint of regret.

you watched as they left, doubting that you’d run into him again. it was only when you looked down at your table that you noticed a small piece of paper under his coffee cup. picking it up, you saw his phone number written in big black letters. a smile tugged at your lips as you slipped the paper into your pocket. the rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings and errands with eunha. you found yourself distracted, your thoughts drifting back to the morning’s encounter with namjoon. there was something about him that intrigued you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that your paths would cross again.

the next few weeks flew by as you dedicated yourself to working on eunha's project. days blended into each other with meetings, brainstorming sessions, and countless cups of coffee as you helped her refine the vision for hanbok group. the experience was both exhausting and exhilarating, and you felt a deep sense of pride in her progress and determination. the days were filled with laughter, hard work, and the occasional late-night chat about everything from business strategies to personal dreams.

as the final days of your visit approached, you and her made the most of your remaining time together. you explored more of busan, visited local markets, and enjoyed some of the city’s best restaurants. it felt surreal that your trip was coming to an end.

on the day of your departure, eunha accompanied you to the train station. you were both a bit teary-eyed as you hugged goodbye, knowing how much this time together had meant to both of you. she squeezed you tightly and said, “please give mom a kiss for me, okay?” you nodded, trying to hold back the tears. “i will. take care of yourself, eunha.”

with a final wave, you boarded the train. as the doors closed behind you, you felt a pang of nostalgia for the time spent in busan. unbeknownst to you, a familiar gaze lingered on your figure as the train pulled away from the station. the journey back to seoul felt long and reflective. you found solace in the rhythmic clacking of the train wheels, your mind replaying memories from your visit and pondering the future.

upon arriving back in seoul, you made your way to your small house, eager to reconnect with your mother. however, when you opened the door, the house was eerily empty. confused and a little anxious, you went next door to speak with your landlord, hoping to find some answers. “hello, mr. min,” you greeted him. “i'm looking for my mother. she’s not at home.” the landlord looked at you with a mix of sympathy and hesitation. “oh, i'm afraid your mother moved out while you were away.”

your heart sank. “moved out? where did she go?” hee shifted uncomfortably. “she’s living in the kim manor now, in one of their spare rooms. she’s still working as a maid there.”

the news hit you like a ton of bricks. you could hardly believe it. “the kim manor? why?” he shrugged, “i’m not entirely sure. the chairman offered it to her, i think. it’s quite a change.”

you thanked him quickly, your mind racing as you headed towards the manor. the grand estate loomed ahead, its imposing gates and manicured gardens a stark contrast to your modest home. the thought of your mother living there, amidst such opulence, was overwhelming. when you arrived, you were greeted by a skinny, older woman sipping wine on the porch. her sharp gaze assessed you as you approached.

“hello,” you said hesitantly. “i'm (y/n). i’m here to see my mother.” the woman raised an eyebrow. “you’re the daughter of the maid, correct?”

“yes,” you replied, feeling a bit uneasy under her scrutiny. “the mute one.” the woman’s expression softened slightly, and she gestured for you to follow her inside. “come on in. i’ll take you to her.”

the interior of the manor was just as grand as the exterior, with ornate decorations and polished surfaces everywhere. the woman led you through the house until you reached a modest kitchen, where you found your mother washing dishes at the sink. “mom,” you called out, your voice trembling with emotion.

your mother turned, her eyes wide with surprise and a hint of sadness. she quickly dried her hands and approached you, her expression a mix of relief and worry. you noticed the deep lines of stress on her face and the weariness in her eyes. you sat down in a small, sparsely furnished room off the kitchen, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken questions. once you were settled, you asked your mother what had prompted such a sudden change.

she began to sign slowly, her hands moving with deliberate care, “the chairman offered me this position. it was an opportunity we couldn’t refuse, given our situation.” the realization hit you like a tidal wave. the financial strain you had both been under was more severe than you’d imagined. tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to process the gravity of the situation. you felt a deep, aching sadness for both your mother and yourself.

you held her close, the weight of your financial troubles and the complexity of your current situation feeling almost unbearable. the shock of the sudden change, coupled with the overwhelming sense of inadequacy, left you feeling emotionally drained. that night, as you lay in the small, cold room you’d been given, you cried yourself to sleep. the reality of your financial struggles and the sudden upheaval in your life weighed heavily on you. the sense of helplessness was overwhelming, and you realized just how precarious your situation had become.

as night settled over the kim manor, the quiet grandeur of the house was punctuated. the front door creaked open, and the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the grand hall. namjoon, carrying a small duffel bag, was visibly exhausted from his travels. the clatter of a dropped glass and a gasp of disbelief came from the dining room as his mother laid eyes on him. her eyes widened, and tears began to stream down her cheeks. she rushed forward, her emotions overtaking her as she embraced her son with a fervent hug.

“namjoon, you’re back!” she exclaimed, her voice choked with emotion. “i didn’t expect you so soon!” his arms enveloped her, and he let out a sigh of relief. “mom, i missed you so much. it’s good to be home.”

they moved to the dining table, where namjoon recounted his experiences in busan. his mother listened intently, her heart swelling with pride and sympathy as he described the challenges he had faced. he spoke of his work, the stress of being away, and the yearning to reconnect with his family, despite his complicated feelings about his brother. “i’ve thought about Haejoon,” namjoon admitted. “even though he’s the last person i wanted to see, i hoped he might come around eventually.”

his mother placed a comforting hand on his arm. “haejoon will soften up eventually. he always does, even if he doesn’t show it right away.” he seemed to find solace in her words, and the conversation shifted to other matters. his mother mentioned the recent changes in the household.

“oh, by the way,” she said, trying to recall the details, “the housekeeper and her daughter have moved into one of the spare rooms.” namjoon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “what’s the daughter’s name?”

his mother’s expression turned thoughtful as she searched her memory. “i'm afraid i've forgotten. it’s been a bit chaotic lately.” namjoon shrugged off the lapse, accepting it as part of the current upheaval. “that’s okay. i’m sure i’ll meet her soon enough.”

she couldn't help the frown from forming on her face at his words, her face suddenly serious as she warned him, “don't you talk to the staff, you know better than that.” he didn't take it to heart, he was just glad to be home. with the conversation winding down, he excused himself. the long day had left him exhausted, and he needed rest. he made his way up the grand staircase and through the opulent hallways to his room, ready to unwind and recharge. the house, now quiet again, settled into its usual rhythm. the only sounds were the soft rustling of the evening breeze and the occasional creak of the manor settling into the night.

as night deepened, namjoon tossed and turned in his bed, the remnants of his dreams lingering in his mind. sleep eluded him as his thoughts fixated on a fleeting image from his dream—your face. in his dream, you had been close, yet somehow distant, your presence tantalizingly out of reach. the vividness of the dream left him restless and unsettled. he tried to shake off the feeling, but the image of you persisted, haunting his thoughts as he lay awake in the quiet of his room.

morning arrived with a pale light filtering through the curtains. namjoon, still troubled by the unsettling dream, emerged from his room to find his mother in the dining room, awaiting breakfast. he joined her at the table, a hint of frustration in his demeanor.

“mom, i had the strangest dream last night,” namjoon began, trying to make sense of the lingering unease. his mother looked up from her newspaper, her attention piqued. “oh? what was it about?”

he hesitated before describing the dream, leaving out specific details about you. “i dreamed about someone i can’t quite place. she seemed familiar and yet distant. it was like she was right there, but i couldn’t reach her.”

his mother’s expression softened with concern. “dreams can be strange and unsettling. perhaps it’s just your mind working through your emotions.” namjoon sighed. “maybe. but it felt so real. it’s affecting my thoughts.”

his mother nodded understandingly. “you should try to focus on your engagement with soyeon. it’s important.” his brow furrowed. “but i don’t really like soyeon. i never have.”

his mother sighed, her gaze steady. “i know, namjoon. but it’s what the your father wants. soyeon’s family has the connections we need for the business deal. it’s a necessary step.”

namjoon nodded, though his frustration remained evident. “i understand the need for the business deal, but it’s hard to reconcile with my own feelings.” his mother, trying to shift the conversation, asked, “are you still in touch with jackson? i remember you mentioning him before you went to busan.”

his face darkened slightly. “not anymore. we lost touch. it’s been a while.” his mother raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in her voice. “i see. well, it might be worth reconnecting if it helps with the business. but for now, focus on what’s ahead.” namjoon agreed and decided to head out for the day. his mother watched him leave with a mixture of concern and resignation.

meanwhile, in the backyard of the manor, you were laboring under the early morning sun. exhausted from the sleepless night, you diligently collected the dry clothes from the line. the repetitive task was almost meditative, but the lack of sleep made every movement feel heavier. once you finished folding the clothes, you carried them into the house, placing them in their designated spots. as you worked, namjoon’s mother observed you with a critical yet appreciative eye.

“you move with such grace,” she remarked, watching as you completed your task. you offered a tired smile, acknowledging the compliment before heading out. with the day stretching ahead and your exhaustion palpable, you decided to visit the nearby convenience store. you bought a cold drink, hoping it would offer some respite.

you settled at a small table outside the shop, the beverage in hand providing minimal comfort. as the effects of fatigue began to catch up with you, your head nodded, and you eventually drifted into a light sleep. unbeknownst to you, a man had noticed your unusual presence. Intrigued by the sight of you sleeping at the table, he took a seat across from you. with a playful curiosity, he poked at your shoulder, trying to rouse you from your slumber. when you didn’t immediately respond, he chuckled to himself, finding amusement in the situation.

eventually, you stirred awake to find him eating a snack, clearly entertained by your groggy state. you blinked at him, trying to clear the haze from your eyes. “who are you?” you asked, still disoriented from your nap. the man grinned. “i’m jackson wang. nice to meet you. and you are?”

you rubbed your eyes lazily, trying to wake yourself fully. the effort felt almost too much, and you glanced at him with a mixture of curiosity and irritation. without offering your own introduction, you stood up, feeling the overwhelming need to escape the awkward encounter. jackson called after you, “hey, wait! come back!” but you, still groggy and eager to retreat, ignored his calls and walked off, heading back towards the manor. he watched you go, a bemused smile on his face, as you disappeared from view, leaving him with an amused sense of intrigue.

you moved through the tasks around the manor with a mechanical efficiency, driven more by the need to keep busy than by any real sense of accomplishment. each chore—arranging the rooms, tidying up the kitchen, and sorting through the various household items—was done with a mixture of resignation and determination. the house, despite its opulence, felt increasingly like a gilded cage, with each task a reminder of the overwhelming changes in your life.

when you finally finished, you retreated to the small room you had been assigned. it was a modest space compared to the grandeur of the rest of the manor, but it was your sanctuary. as you sorted through the clothes you had folded earlier, your hand brushed against a slip of paper. you pulled it out and saw that it was the note with namjoon's phone number—an unexpected reminder of the brief encounter you had in busan.

you hesitated for a moment, considering the implications of using the number. curiosity and a need for human connection nudged you forward. slipping the paper into your pocket, you decided to test it out. you made your way outside, feeling the cool air of the morning against your skin. standing in front of the manor’s gate, you took out your phone and dialed the number. the number was a direct line to namjoon’s phone, and you felt a flutter of anticipation as it rang.

“hello?” his voice came through, sounding slightly puzzled but courteous. “hi, namjoon, it’s (y/n),” you greeted, trying to keep your tone casual.

there was a brief pause on the other end. “oh, hey. i didn’t expect to hear from you.” you made small talk, trying to bridge the gap between your brief but memorable encounter in busan and the present moment. as you spoke, you remained unaware that namjoon was standing behind you, having come out of the manor for a breath of fresh air.

he listened to your voice, recognizing it immediately. he felt a strange mix of curiosity and comfort. “are you still in busan?” he asked, his tone betraying a hint of unease. you looked around, still speaking into the phone. “no, i'm back in seoul, what about you?” his heart raced a little. he was only a few steps away from where you stood, and he was unable to resist the pull of curiosity. he walked quietly, positioning himself so that he could see you as you spoke.

“turn around,” he said softly, though his voice was tinged with an edge of nervousness. you turned, your eyes scanning the area until they landed on him. for a moment, both of you stared at each other in shock. there was a genuine, unfiltered emotion in his eyes—a fleeting look of recognition and something more profound. the connection from your dream seemed to come alive in that brief exchange. however, the words of his mother flashed through his mind, reminding him of the boundaries he was supposed to maintain. he had been advised not to engage with the staff in any personal manner. as these thoughts surfaced, his expression shifted from surprise to a colder, more controlled demeanor.

he approached you, his steps deliberate and his gaze icy. he met your eyes with a look that was both firm and unyielding. the warmth from the earlier moment vanished, replaced by a sharp detachment.

“you're the maid's daughter, aren't you?” he asked, his voice devoid of the previous warmth. you flinched slightly at the shift in his tone, still trying to make sense of the situation, as realization hit you like a ton of bricks. “you're the second son, aren't you?”

without another word, he turned and walked past you, his steps echoing in the stillness of the manor grounds. you watched him go, feeling a mix of disappointment and confusion. the brief moment of connection had dissipated into a cold reality, leaving you standing alone, grappling with the complexity of your emotions and the new world you were now a part of. as he disappeared into the distance, you were left with the unsettling feeling of being caught between two worlds—one that was rapidly changing and another that seemed to be slipping further away.

namjoon struggled with the reality of the situation that had unfolded before him. the girl he had felt a sudden, inexplicable connection with in busan was now revealed to be the daughter of his family’s maid. the revelation felt like a cruel twist of fate. the initial flutter of butterflies he had experienced was now replaced by a sense of profound disappointment and confusion. he grappled with the stark contrast between his earlier feelings and the current state of their interactions.

the coldness he exhibited towards you became more pronounced with each passing day. he avoided eye contact, spoke to you with a clipped tone, and generally treated you with the indifference reserved for those considered beneath his notice. the warmth and curiosity he had shown in busan were replaced by a rigid formality that left you feeling isolated and disheartened.

you, too, were deeply affected by the discovery. the boy who had occupied your thoughts with such intensity turned out to be namjoon, the second son of the kim group, and you, as his maid’s daughter, were now living under his family’s roof. the disparity between your lives was stark, and the reality of it was crushing. the dreams and hopes you had harbored seemed to crumble under the weight of the new circumstances.

as time went on, the emotional strain became unbearable. the disparity in how you were treated and the growing tension between you and him led to sleepless nights. the emotional weight of your situation bore down heavily on you, making every task and interaction feel like a reminder of your diminished place in the world. one particularly sleepless night, the tears became too much to bear. you reached for your phone, your hands trembling as you dialed eunha’s number. the phone rang several times before she answered, her voice filled with concern.

“what’s wrong?” her voice was soft but urgent. through your tears, you managed to speak, your voice choked and fragmented. “i can't keep doing this anymore.”

her soothing presence on the other end of the line gave you a brief respite from your distress. “i know it’s tough. i know it's hard, but it won't last.” you sobbed harder, the weight of your situation overwhelming. “everything is falling apart.”

she took a deep breath, her voice steady and firm. “listen to me. this is not the end. you came here to make something of yourself, to help me with hanbok group. you need to channel this pain into something positive. the company needs to succeed. it’s the chance we have to build a future, to prove ourselves.” her words, though harsh, held a certain clarity. the determination she spoke of seemed to cut through the fog of despair that enveloped you. “i'll try,” you whispered, your voice trembling but infused with a newfound resolve. “i'll make it work.”

if you're born poor, that's not your fault. if you die poor, it's nobody's fault but yours. as the weeks turned into months, hanbok group began to show promising signs of growth. the initial investments that eunha had poured into the company started to bear fruit, and the early struggles began to pay off. eunha, with your diligent support, navigated the complexities of the fashion and art worlds with a deft hand, securing deals and partnerships that elevated the group’s profile.

the company’s first significant breakthrough came with a fashion line launch. the designs, a harmonious blend of traditional and contemporary styles, garnered attention from influential fashion critics and buyers. the success of the line not only boosted the company's reputation but also injected much-needed capital. the positive reception provided a solid foundation for future ventures.

following the fashion line, hanbok group expanded into art galleries, showcasing a curated collection of emerging and established artists. the galleries quickly became popular, drawing crowds and generating steady revenue. the dual success of the fashion line and art galleries established hanbok group as a prominent player in the industry, with financial stability and a growing network of connections.

with the company thriving, you and eunha were finally able to realize a long-held dream: surprising your mother with a stable and secure future. the time had come to leave the kim manor, a place that had been both a refuge and a reminder of the stark divide between your past and present. on the day of your departure, you packed up your belongings with a sense of bittersweet relief. the process was emotional but filled with anticipation for the new chapter ahead. you knew your mother would be thrilled to see the changes and the new opportunities that awaited her.

as you prepared to leave, you glanced around the manor one last time, acknowledging both the struggles and the triumphs that had marked your time there. the decision to move on was not just about leaving a place but about stepping into a future you had worked hard to build. when the day finally arrived for you to move out, namjoon returned home, exhausted from a long day. he made his way through the manor, only to find that your room was conspicuously empty. the absence of your belongings was jarring, and a sense of confusion washed over him. he had not seen you or heard anything about your departure.

seeking answers, he approached his mother, who was seated in the living room. “mom, where are (y/n) and her mom? their room is completely empty.” his mother’s eyes flickered with a cold, distant look. she pointed to the television, her voice carrying an edge of disinterest. “turn on the news. you might find the answer there.”

namjoon, perplexed and slightly apprehensive, followed her instruction. he switched on the television, and the news channel immediately brought up a breaking story about hanbok group. the screen displayed images of a successful fashion line launch and a new art gallery opening, accompanied by interviews and glowing reports.

as the news anchor spoke, namjoon’s attention was drawn to the faces that appeared alongside the story. one of them was unmistakably yours, your image featured prominently as a key figure behind hanbok group’s recent success. the realization struck him with force, a mix of shock and dismay. his mind raced to piece together the connections—the girl he had coldly dismissed, the daughter of his family’s maid, had risen to prominence and achieved success beyond his expectations. the contrast between the image on the screen and the reality of how he had treated you was stark and uncomfortable.

his gaze shifted to his mother, who remained impassive, her expression a mix of detachment and grim satisfaction. the weight of the situation settled heavily on him as he grappled with the full extent of his oversight. the news had not only exposed the success of hanbok group but also highlighted the disparity between his previous actions and the new reality.

your new life was a testament to the hard work and determination you had poured into hanbok group. the transformation was nothing short of a dream realized. your mother had moved into a spacious, luxurious apartment in the heart of seoul, a far cry from the cramped quarters of the manor. the apartment was elegantly furnished, with sweeping views of the cityscape that spoke of both affluence and newfound security. it was a living space that matched the success you had achieved, offering your mother a comfortable and refined environment.

hanbok group’s headquarters had also moved to seoul, marking a significant milestone in the company's expansion. the sleek new office building was a symbol of progress, reflecting the growth and success of the business. the modern design of the building, with its glass facades and cutting-edge facilities, stood as a beacon of your achievements and aspirations.

as you walked down the polished corridors of the new office, you took in the bustling activity around you. the staff moved with purpose, the energy of the space reflecting the thriving state of the company. you were deep in thought, reviewing the day’s tasks, when you spotted a familiar face.

jackson wang, the man from the convenience store, was standing near the reception area, his presence causing a ripple of recognition in your mind. you approached him with a mix of curiosity and formality. “jackson, what are you doing here?” you asked, trying to mask your surprise. his smile was easygoing, and he seemed genuinely pleased to see you. “i’m here on behalf of my father,” he began. “he wanted to propose a deal between hanbok group and wang industries at tonight’s opening ceremony. he thinks it would be mutually beneficial.”

you nodded, processing his words. “i see. well, we’ll definitely discuss it further. i appreciate you coming by to inform me.” his eyes twinkled with curiosity. “so, you do remember me from the convenience store?”

you offered a small smile, nodding in recognition. “yeah, i remember. good to see you again.” his expression shifted to one of genuine admiration. “congratulations on the success of hanbok group. it's impressive how far you’ve come.”

“thank you,” you replied, feeling a warm sense of validation. “it’s been quite a journey.” as you prepared to leave, jackson watched you with an air of quiet confidence. “i’ll see you tonight at the ceremony, then,” he said. “i’m looking forward to it.”

the opening ceremony for the company's new headquarters was a significant milestone, a moment of celebration that promised new beginnings. the event was meticulously organized, with a grand hall decorated in elegant hues that mirrored the company’s successful journey. the atmosphere was abuzz with anticipation as influential guests, industry leaders, and key stakeholders gathered to witness the occasion.

you and eunha met with jackson, his father, and their team in one of the private conference rooms prior to the main event. his father, a distinguished figure with a commanding presence, extended a firm handshake and greeted you with a businesslike warmth. “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person,” he said, his tone reflecting a blend of professionalism and cordiality. the discussion centered around the proposed partnership between hanbok group and wang industries. the terms were negotiated with careful consideration, and both parties were eager to explore the mutual benefits. after a thorough exchange of ideas and a few rounds of negotiation, an agreement was reached. the partnership was set to bring new opportunities and enhance the growth prospects for both companies.

with the formalities concluded, you felt a sense of accomplishment as you prepared for your first public appearance. the night was about to transition from business to celebration, and you were eager to make a positive impression. as you made your way to the backstage area to get ready, you spotted jackson once again. he approached you with a friendly smile. “i just wanted to thank you for the opportunity,” he said. “it’s been great working with you and seeing how far your company has come.”

“you’re welcome,” you replied, appreciating the gesture. “and thank you for your support. i'm looking forward to the new possibilities this partnership will bring.”

he nodded, his expression thoughtful. “it’s been a pleasure. i think tonight is going to be quite memorable.” as the time for the showcase drew nearer, you and jackson took your positions. the grand hall was now a sea of faces, the crowd eagerly awaiting the main event. you took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness as you prepared to step out onto the stage.

just as you were about to make your entrance, you noticed a familiar face in the crowd. your heart skipped a beat as you locked eyes with namjoon. he stood at the edge of the gathering, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that was both unsettling and familiar. the sight of him stirred a whirlwind of emotions—regret, longing, and an unspoken connection. his expression was unreadable, a mask of composure that did little to reveal his thoughts. for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur, leaving only the stark reality of his presence.

in the opulent study of the kim manor, the atmosphere was thick with tension. the chairman, haejoon, and haejoon’s stepmother, who had become a fixture in the household, gathered around a large mahogany desk. the study was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the room and adding to the gravity of the discussion. the chairman, visibly agitated, slammed a thick folder onto the desk. “this is bad,” he declared, his voice low and menacing. “absolutely bad for our company’s sales. hanbok group’s success at the opening ceremony has thrown a wrench into our plans.”

haejoon, who was pacing with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, clenched his jaw. “father, you know i've tried to handle this situation,” he said, his voice strained. “but the backlash is enormous, and it’s affecting our public image.”

his father’s glare could have cut through steel. “you were supposed to maintain control over this. do you have any idea what this means for us? we’re losing ground to a company that was just a blip on our radar.” namjoon's mother, standing with her arms crossed, looked on with a cold expression. “this isn’t just about the company’s image. this is personal. eunha is your ex-girlfriend and (y/n) is the daughter of the woman who cleaned our toilets. their success is a direct insult to our family.”

before the conversation could delve deeper into the personal aspects, the door to the study opened, and namjoon walked in, his expression neutral but his demeanor tinged with unease. “the ceremony is finished,” he announced. “the opening was a success.” the room fell into a heavy silence as haejoon turned to face his stepbrother. the tension between them was palpable, with his dislike for namjoon evident in the way he glared at him. despite namjoon’s attempts to bridge the gap, haejoon seemed resolute in his disdain.

“we need a plan,” the chairman said, his tone was far from appreciative. “we need to find a way to counteract this situation. we can’t let hanbok group’s success overshadow our own achievements.” namjoon met his father’s gaze, accepting the gravity of the task. “understood. i’ll handle it.”

the chairman’s eyes narrowed. “you need to do more than just handle it. we need a strategy to undermine their momentum and regain control of the narrative. this isn’t just about competition; it’s about asserting our dominance.” namjoon nodded, a flicker of determination crossing his face. “i’ll get to work on it immediately.”

as he turned to leave, haejoon’s stepmother shot him a pointed look. the disdain in her gaze was evident, and it was clear that the family’s discontent with him was growing. namjoon, however, kept his focus on the task ahead, ignoring the glares and the underlying hostility in the room. as he walked out of the study, the weight of the responsibility settled heavily on his shoulders.

the transition to your new private school in seoul was a monumental shift, a step that symbolized the culmination of your hard work and the new opportunities afforded by hanbok group’s success. as you walked through the gates of the prestigious institution, you felt the weight of countless gazes. the students—dressed in their immaculate uniforms—watched you with a mixture of awe and envy. the whispers and stares made you feel like an object of fascination, a feeling both exhilarating and uncomfortable.

despite the attention, you held your head high, trying to maintain composure as you navigated the hallways. the sense of being scrutinized was palpable, but you were determined to focus on your new chapter.

suddenly, you felt a reassuring weight around your shoulders. you turned to see jackson, his familiar grin breaking through the sea of curious faces. “hey, i didn’t expect to see you here!” he said, his tone light and friendly. “i’m a student here too. thought i'd show you around.” relief washed over you as you smiled back. “thanks, jackson. that’d be great.”

as you walked together through the bustling corridors, you began to feel more at ease. however, your newfound comfort was abruptly interrupted when you came to a sudden halt. the reason for your pause became clear as you glanced ahead. namjoon stood at the end of the hallway, his gaze fixed on you. his eyes narrowed slightly when he noticed jackson by your side.

jackson’s voice broke the tense silence. “dramatic, aren’t you, namjoon? then again, you’ve always enjoyed a good crowd,” he remarked, his tone laced with an undercurrent of playful sarcasm. the students around you began forming a circle, intrigued by the unexpected confrontation. his expression darkened as he glanced at jackson. “what exactly do you think you’re doing here?” he asked, his voice edged with a hint of challenge.

jackson shrugged nonchalantly. “i could ask you the same thing. how was busan, friend?” the word “friend” hung in the air, heavy with unspoken history. the silence that followed was thick with unspoken tensions. the once close bond between namjoon and jackson had frayed over the years, especially after namjoon’s departure for busan, which had strained their relationship.

you shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to navigate the suddenly charged atmosphere. as you considered walking away to escape the awkwardness, namjoon’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. his touch was firm but not aggressive, as he pulled you closer to his side. “wait,” he said, his voice low and resolute. “i need to talk to you.”

jackson’s eyes flickered with surprise, but he stepped back slightly, allowing namjoon to assert his presence. the surrounding students watched with bated breath, their curiosity piqued by the unfolding drama. namjoon’s grip on your wrist was firm, but his touch was not harsh. he guided you away from the crowd, leading you to a quieter corner of the school. his expression was a mix of confusion and something deeper—perhaps a flicker of old emotions.

“why are you here?” namjoon finally asked, his tone softening. “how did you end up at this school?” you met his gaze, trying to remain calm despite the rush of emotions. “that's none of your business, really.”

his eyebrows furrowed, a mix of surprise and hurt flickering across his face. “look, we’re both here now. can’t we just talk?” you shook your head, feeling a pang of frustration. “there’s nothing to talk about, namjoon. i’m here to focus on my studies and start fresh. whatever happened between us before, it’s in the past.” there was no getting over the way he had acted. no amount of money in the world could've made up for the nights you had spent crying, wondering why it was your life that was falling apart.

with that, you found yourself spinning on your heel. you had no interest in going back to where you started, and that included rekindling a bond with him. he was the one that looked down on you and, even if he wasn't, he was the one who wad engaged.

namjoon sat at a corner table in the bustling school cafeteria, his lunch barely touched as he absentmindedly stirred his drink. across from him, soyeon’s anger simmered beneath her composed exterior. the vibrant chatter of students around them seemed distant as she leaned in, her voice low and filled with frustration.

“i can’t believe this,” she said, her eyes flashing with irritation. “your company’s downfall is gonna ruin us. hanbok group is soaring, especially after the partnership with wang industries. it’s a huge blow to your sales, and since i'm engaged to you, my sales.”

he sighed, rubbing his temples. “i know, soyeon. it’s not like i wanted this to happen. i’m dealing with it as best as i can.” her frustration mounted. “dealing with it? it’s a disaster, and now you’re stuck here, trying to make sense of it all while they're out there taking the spotlight.”

his annoyance was evident. “we’re working on it, but what do you expect me to do? it’s not like we can just erase their success.” her eyes narrowed, her irritation shifting to a calculating gaze. “actually, there might be something we can do. it’s risky, but it could work.”

he looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. “what do you have in mind?” she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “you know that girl from hanbok group, the one you saw at the ceremony? if you get close to her—”

namjoon cut her off with a skeptical glance. “are you suggesting i seduce her?” her lips curled into a sly smile. “exactly. if you can get close to her, you might find a way to undermine hanbok group from within. Ii’s a chance to gather information, and maybe even influence things in our favor.”

he studied soyeon’s face, weighing the proposal. the idea was certainly bold, but it did offer a potential path to addressing the threat hanbok group posed to his family’s company. the thought of involving personal feelings in the strategy was unsettling, but the prospect of weakening the company was tempting.

“you really think this will work?” he asked, still unsure. she nodded, her expression serious. “it’s a long shot, but it might be our best bet. if you can get her to trust you, you might be able to find a way to sabotage their plans or at least gather some useful intel.” namjoon considered the proposal, his thoughts swirling with conflicting emotions. the idea of manipulating someone for business gain was morally dubious, but the stakes were high. if this was the only viable strategy to save his family’s company, he was willing to consider it.

“alright,” namjoon finally said, his voice determined. “i’ll do it. but remember, this is a means to an end. i don’t want this to get out of hand.” she smile widened, a glint of triumph in her eyes. “good. i knew you’d see the potential. just be careful—if things get messy, it could backfire.”

the grand opening of hanbok nightclub was a dazzling affair. the sleek, modern design of the venue glittered with bright lights and vibrant colors, creating an atmosphere of excitement and luxury. the turnout was impressive, with a lively crowd enjoying the music, drinks, and the bustling energy of the night. you stood at the edge of the main floor, taking in the scene with a mix of pride and relief. the risky investment in the nightclub had clearly paid off.

as you watched the guests mingle and dance, you turned to see a familiar face among the crowd. it was namjoon, looking sharply dressed in a suit that accentuated his tall frame. his presence was unexpected, and you felt a flicker of curiosity and unease. you approached him, your voice barely rising above the noise of the crowd. “what are you doing here?” he offered a small, sincere smile. “i came to support you. i heard about the opening and thought i’d check it out.”

you were taken aback by his response, feeling a strange mix of emotions. “i didn’t expect to see you here.” namjoon’s gaze softened. “i wanted to make amends. i know things between us have been complicated.”

you nodded, appreciating his gesture. “well, i’m glad you came. it means a lot.” he glanced around the nightclub, then back at you. “would you like to grab a drink? i'd like to talk, if that’s alright with you.” you hesitated for a moment, still feeling the sting of past interactions but decided that it was worth at least hearing him out. “alright, let’s get a drink.”

you led the way to the bar, where you both ordered drinks and found a quieter corner away from the main festivities. the setting was intimate, the dim lighting casting a warm glow over the space. as you sipped your drink, namjoon looked at you with a mixture of apprehension and sincerity. “i owe you an apology for how I acted before. the way i treated you was unfair. it wasn’t just me—it was pressure from my stepmother and the situation at home.” you studied his face, searching for any hint of insincerity, but found none. “i appreciate you saying that. it was confusing and hurtful, but i understand that you were caught in a difficult situation.”

he nodded, visibly relieved by your response. “it’s been a tough time for me, too. my family’s expectations and the pressure to keep up with everything—it’s been overwhelming.” you took a sip of your drink, considering his words. “i can’t imagine what you’ve been going through, but i hope things get better for you. and i hope we can move past this.”

his expression softened, and he gave you a small, appreciative smile. “i'd like that. i know i can’t undo the past, but i want to try to make things right, even if it’s just starting with this.” you nodded, feeling a sense of relief at the honest conversation. “we can start fresh. i’m willing to forgive and move on.”

hia eyes met yours with genuine gratitude. “thank you. it means a lot to me.” the conversation flowed more easily as the night progressed, with both of you sharing updates about your lives and catching up on missed time. the atmosphere around you was lively and festive, but in your little corner of the nightclub, it was as if a new chapter was beginning.

the weeks following the opening of the nightclub brought an unexpected shift in your relationship with namjoon. you found yourselves spending more time together, both within and outside of the office. the initial tension between you had faded, replaced by a genuine connection. conversations became easier, and you began to learn more about each other’s lives and interests.

he often seemed conflicted, his guilt evident as he navigated his dual role in your life. the feelings he was developing for you were undeniable, and it was becoming harder for him to maintain the facade of mere friendship. he had started to question the ethics of his actions, feeling remorseful for his initial intentions.

one afternoon, as you were wrapping up some paperwork in the office, eunha stopped by. she looked concerned as she approached your desk. “can we talk for a moment?” she asked, her tone serious. you nodded, setting aside your work. “of course. what’s up?”

she waited until you both settled into a quieter area of the office before speaking. “i've been noticing that you and kim namjoon have been spending a lot of time together lately. i’m curious—what’s your relationship with him?” you hesitated for a moment before answering. “we’re just friends. we’ve been getting to know each other better.”

her expression remained thoughtful. “i see. well, i want to encourage you to keep it that way—just friends.” you raised an eyebrow, surprised by her insistence. “why? is there something i should know?”

she sighed, looking more serious than you’d ever seen her. “yes, actually. there’s something important you need to understand. namjoon’s family, including his stepbrother, are our direct competitors. hanbok group and their company are rivals, and haejoon happens to be my ex-boyfriend.” you were taken aback, your eyes widening in disbelief. “haejoon is your ex? i didn’t know that.” you had recalled the photo of them in her guest room, the pieces gluing themselves together.

she nodded. “yes. it’s complicated, but it’s crucial for you to know that the kims and hanbok group are deeply intertwined in this business rivalry. i don’t want you to get caught up in any personal entanglements that could complicate things for both our company and your own future.” the revelation hit you hard. you had been developing genuine feelings for him, and eunha’s warning forced you to confront the reality of the situation. the idea of distancing yourself from him now felt painful, especially given the bond you had started to form.

“i understand,” you said, trying to steady your emotions. “i’ll keep my distance. i don’t want to create any conflicts for us.” she looked relieved but also sympathetic. “thank you. i know it’s not easy, but it’s important for the sake of the company. and if there’s anything more you need to know, or if you’re struggling, you can always talk to me.”

you appreciated her offer, though the weight of the situation was heavy on your heart. as she left, you sat alone, reflecting on the growing feelings you had for namjoon and the difficult decision you now faced. the connection you had with him felt real, but the business implications and personal history made it all the more complex.

namjoon sat at his study desk in the grand manor, the room illuminated by the soft glow of the desk lamp. the space was decorated with rich wood paneling and shelves lined with books, providing an aura of both warmth and authority. he was lost in thought, his mind preoccupied with the tangled emotions and complicated dynamics of his recent interactions with you.

the creak of the door broke his concentration. haejoon entered the room, a stern expression on his face. he walked straight to his desk and dropped a stack of photographs in front of him with a thud. the images were candid shots of you and namjoon from various moments—some at the nightclub, others from the recent school encounter. he looked up, his expression guarded. “what’s this about?” haejoon’s tone was cold and direct. “explain these.”

namjoon’s gaze shifted to the photos, and he took a deep breath before speaking. “soyeon came up with a plan to get close to you and undermine hanbok group from the inside. she thought that if i could get close to you and learn about your company’s operations, it would give us an edge. all i'm doing is going along with it.”

haejoon’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise, but he remained silent, absorbing the information. he appeared to be considering the implications of namjoon’s revelation. after a moment, he nodded, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. “alright,” he said finally. “i’ll leave it at that.”

as he turned to leave, namjoon’s voice stopped him. “why do you hate me so much, haejoon?” he paused, his back still turned. for a moment, the room was filled with a heavy silence. he didn’t respond, and the tension between the two brothers was palpable. with that, he walked out of the study, leaving his stepbrother alone with a heavy heart.

the day at school had been unusually tense. as you navigated through your classes and interactions with classmates, the weight of recent developments lingered heavily on your mind. you had been trying to keep your emotions in check, focusing on your responsibilities, but the lingering thoughts of namjoon and the complexities of your relationship with him kept resurfacing.

he, too, seemed preoccupied. he found you during lunch, his usual confident demeanor replaced with a look of vulnerability. as you sat together, you noticed the tension in his shoulders and the sadness in his eyes. “can we talk?” he asked, his voice softer than usual. you nodded, leading him to a quieter corner of the school grounds where you could have some privacy. “what’s on your mind?”

he took a deep breath, struggling to articulate his feelings. “it’s haejoon. i’ve always wanted his approval, his love, but no matter what i do, it feels like i'm never enough. it’s like no matter how hard i try, i'm just not able to earn his respect.”

you could see the pain in his eyes, and it tugged at your heart. without hesitation, you pulled him into a comforting hug, your arms encircling him in a gesture of reassurance. “you’re enough, namjoon. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. you’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask.” his breath hitched slightly as he absorbed the comfort you offered. in that embrace, he felt a wave of emotions he had been trying to suppress. the connection between you deepened, and he realized that his feelings for you had grown beyond mere friendship.

later that day, he sought out soyeon in the crowded hallways. he found her standing near her locker, her posture rigid and her expression expectant. “soyeon,” he began, his voice firm but conflicted, “i need to talk to you about the plan.”

her eyes narrowed, a hint of irritation in her gaze. “oh? what about it?” his resolve was clear. “i’m calling it off. i can’t go through with it. i'm not going to sabotage hanbok group or manipulate (y/n).”

her eyebrows shot up in surprise, her lips curling into a sardonic smile. “caught feelings, have we?” his silence was all the confirmation she needed. her expression shifted from mockery to anger. “you’re serious? you’ve actually fallen for her?”

he nodded, his frustration evident. “yes, i have. i can’t do this anymore.” her demeanor grew colder. “you realize what this means, don’t you? if you back out now, i'll go public with our separation. it’ll be a scandal that’ll damage your family’s company even further. you can’t just walk away from this.”

the threat was clear, and namjoon felt the weight of it press down on him. the thought of his company facing additional fallout was unbearable. he was trapped between his burgeoning feelings for you and the ruthless demands of soyeon. swallowing his pride and masking his inner turmoil, he forced himself to comply. “alright,” he said, his voice strained. “i’ll go through with the plan. i’ll make sure it happens.”

her expression softened slightly, satisfied with his compliance. “good. i’ll be watching. don’t disappoint me, namjoon.”

the bond between you and namjoon continued to deepen with each passing day. as the weeks went by, your relationship evolved from friendship to something undeniably more intense. despite the growing affection between you, he struggled internally. he found himself torn between the desire for his family's approval and the undeniable pull of his feelings for you. the more his family praised him for his involvement with you, the more conflicted he felt.

one night, the hanbok nightclub was abuzz with activity. the grand opening had been a resounding success, and the club had quickly become one of the city's most talked-about venues. you were there, dressed in a stunning gold dress that shimmered under the nightclub's lights. you had taken up a spot on the floor above, enjoying the view and savoring the evening.

namjoon spotted you from the dance floor below and felt a rush of admiration. the way your dress sparkled in the ambient light, the elegance with which you carried yourself—everything about you seemed to captivate him. he made his way up to where you were standing, his eyes never leaving you as he approached. “(y/n),” he said softly, his voice almost lost amidst the noise of the club. “you look absolutely mesmerizing tonight.”

you turned to face him, a smile spreading across your lips. his words, combined with the way he looked at you, made your heart race. the intensity of the moment was palpable, and you both seemed to forget about everything else around you. the music and chatter of the nightclub faded into the background as the connection between you grew stronger.

his gaze dropped to your lips, and before either of you could second-guess it, he leaned in and kissed you. the kiss was gentle at first, but quickly escalated into something more passionate. his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the world outside seemed to vanish. caught up in the moment, you pulled away slightly, your breath mingling with his. “there are private rooms in the back,” you whispered, a mischievous glint in your eye. “we could have more privacy there.”

he nodded, his eyes dark with desire. without another word, you took his hand and guided him through the crowd, leading him towards the back of the nightclub. the private rooms were a secluded escape from the bustling main area, providing a more intimate setting. once inside, the room was dimly lit, with plush furnishings and a cozy atmosphere. the door closed behind you, shutting out the noise and leaving you both in a private sanctuary. as soon as you were alone, his lips found yours again, the kiss heated and fervent. his hands roamed your body, exploring and caressing with a hunger that matched your own.

you guided him to a nearby sofa, where you both sank into the cushions, the kisses growing more urgent. the warmth of his body against yours, the way his hands traced your curves, and the intensity of his gaze made everything feel electric.

namjoon stepped closer, his eyes devouring you body like a starving man. he reached out and traced a finger along the neckline of your dress, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. "you look incredible," he murmured, his voice a velvet rumble that seemed to resonate in your very bones. “take it off for me.”

your hands trembled slightly as you obeyed, the fabric sliding down your body to pool at your feet. you stepped out of the dress, revealing the lacy lingerie that matched the color of the gold fabric. he took a sharp breath in, his eyes widening with desire. “i knew you'd look even better without it,” he said, his voice thick with lust.

he stepped closer, closing the distance between you, and before you could react, he had you pressed against the nearest wall. his hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, then sliding up to cup your tits. he squeezed gently, his thumbs flicking over your hardened nipples. “you're so fucking perfect,” he whispered against your neck, his breath hot and heavy. you gasped, arching into his touch, your body begging for more.

he leaned in and claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue invading yours with a hunger that left you breathless. you could feel the bulge in his pants, pressing against you, a silent promise of what was to come. his hands slid down to the hem of your panties, and with a swift motion, he ripped them away. the sound of the fabric tearing filled the room, a declaration of his intent.

he stepped back, admiring your naked form, his eyes lingering on the apex of your thighs. “spread your legs for me,” he ordered, his voice firm and demanding. you complied, your legs quivering with anticipation. he dropped to his knees, his breath hot against your skin. “you're so wet already,” he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. he licked a slow path up your slit, and you cried out, nails digging into the wall behind you.

he stood up, unbuckling his pants with swift, efficient movements. his cock sprang free, thick and hard, and you couldn't help but stare. “like what you see?” he smirked, stroking himself slowly. you nodded, your mouth dry with desire. “good, because you're about to get a taste.”

without warning, he plunged into you, filling you up in one swift motion. you cried out, your body stretching to accommodate his size. he didn't stop, his hips moving in a steady, punishing rhythm that had you seeing stars. “you're so tight,” he groaned, his grip on her hips tightening. “i can feel every inch of you.”

your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the sound of your skin slapping echoing in the quiet room. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, walls clenching around him. he leaned in, whispering filthy words into your ear, telling you exactly how good you felt, how much he wanted you. you met each thrust with one of your own, hips rolling to meet his, driving him even deeper.

the tension built between you, a crescendo of passion that could no longer be contained. you both knew what was coming, the inevitable explosion that would shake you to your very cores. you were lost in each other, hearts pounding in time with the music that pulsed through the walls. as you both approached the edge, your movements grew more frantic, breaths more ragged. “i love you,” you gasped, the words slipping out before you could stop them. namjoon's eyes snapped to yours, a look of shock and disbelief crossing his face. but then, a soft smile spread across his lips. “i love you too,” he murmured, his voice filled with a vulnerability you had never heard before.

the next few days unfolded with a whirlwind of emotions and new experiences. your bond with namjoon continued to deepen, growing more intense with each passing moment. the connection you shared became evident to everyone, and photos of the two of you started flooding the internet. the media coverage was relentless, and while it brought both praise and scrutiny, it also highlighted the undeniable chemistry between you.

amidst the flurry of attention, you and him spent more time together, finding solace in each other's company. despite the external chaos, these moments became a refuge where you could escape the pressures and expectations that surrounded you. one evening, as you both sat in the lounge of the nightclub after hours, namjoon looked contemplative, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a quiet seriousness. the soft glow of the dim lights cast a warm hue over his face, revealing the subtle lines of worry etched upon it.

“you know,” he began, his voice low and hesitant, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” you turned to him, your curiosity piqued. “what is it, namjoon?”

he took a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting your eyes again. “it’s about my engagement to soyeon. i've never really talked about it, but i think it’s time you knew.” you listened attentively, sensing the gravity of his words. his expression was one of vulnerability, and it was clear that this was something he had been carrying alone for a long time.

“engagements in our world aren’t always about love,” he continued, his voice tinged with frustration. “it’s more about alliances, business deals, and family expectations. soyeon and i—we’re both trapped in this arrangement because our families want it. neither of us wanted it, but we have to go along with it.” you reached out and took his hand in yours, offering a comforting squeeze. “i'm sorry you’re going through this, namjoon. it must be really difficult, feeling like you’re not in control of your own life.”

he nodded, his eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and guilt. “it is. and i know it’s no excuse for what’s happened between us, but it’s hard not to feel like i’m betraying everyone. the guilt is eating me up inside.” you looked at him with understanding, your heart aching for the turmoil he was experiencing. “you’re not betraying anyone. you’re just trying to find happiness in a situation that’s been forced upon you. it’s okay to feel conflicted.” he remained silent, his gaze fixed on your intertwined fingers. the weight of his confession seemed to lift slightly, but the guilt still lingered in his eyes. your words resonated with his situation too much—everything he had been doing behind your back, it was like he was going against everything he stood for. like he had been lying to you from the very start, but how could he?

the grand opening of wang industries’ new nightclub was set to be a spectacle, a symbol of the flourishing partnership between your company and theirs. the event was meant to be a celebration of collaboration, showcasing the mutual benefits of your alliance. as part of the evening’s arrangement, you and jackson were to make a dramatic entrance together, reinforcing the image of unity between your companies.

you walked into the club with him by your side, his arm wrapped around your waist. the crowd's reaction was immediate and electric, cheers and applause filling the room as the spotlight illuminated the two of you. the public's frenzy was palpable, and the media coverage was intense. it was all part of the plan, a well-orchestrated stunt to make headlines and reinforce the partnership’s strength.

the moment, however, was abruptly interrupted. namjoon, who had been watching from a distance, felt a wave of raw emotion surge through him. the sight of you and jackson together, the way his arm was possessively draped around you, was too much for him to bear. his heart pounded, his feelings of betrayal and jealousy mingling into a potent mix of anger.

without thinking, namjoon strode forward, his face set in a grimace. the crowd fell silent as he approached, the tension in the air thickening. before anyone could react, he threw a punch straight at jackson’s face. the blow landed with a sickening thud, and he stumbled back, surprised but quickly regaining his stance.

“are you out of your mind?” jackson spat, his voice filled with anger. he wiped the blood from his lip, glaring at namjoon. “you've got a lot of stones to throw for someone in a glass house.” your shock was evident as you rushed to jackson's side, wiping away the excess blood as your heart pounded. your wide-eyed gaze switched from one man to the other.

you looked between them, confused and alarmed. “what’s going on? what do you mean by that?” namjoon’s face was a mask of frustration and pain, and he remained silent. jackson’s smirk widened as he seized the opportunity to reveal the truth. “come on, joon, tell her. the house was bound to break at some point.”

your eyes darted from jackson to namjoon, searching for answers. when namjoon didn’t speak, jackson took it upon himself to explain. “your boyfriend and his fiancée had a plan. he was supposed to seduce you to bring down hanbok group from the inside. the whole thing was a setup.” the words hit you like a punch to the gut. “no,” you said, laughing without a hint of humor. “that can’t be true, right?”

the silence that followed was deafening. you looked at namjoon, his eyes filled with tears and regret. the realization sank in, and the truth became painfully clear. his actions, his earlier promises, and the moments you shared—they had all been part of a twisted scheme. the betrayal cut deep. namjoon, his voice choked with remorse, managed to whisper, “i'm sorry.”

the apology only fueled your anger. you brought up your hand, only to bring it down across his face, the sting of the contact echoing your hurt and disappointment. “how could you?” jackson stepped in, smirking at the scene. “who do you think soyeon’s fucking on the side? she tells me everything.”

the betrayal was overwhelming, and you felt as if your world was collapsing around you. all you could think about was getting away from the chaos and the lies. you turned on your heel and fled the nightclub, the sound of the commotion fading behind you as you rushed out into the night. the sting of betrayal and the weight of broken trust were nearly unbearable, and all you wanted was to escape and process the painful reality of what had just been revealed.

as you fled from the nightclub, your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the betrayal you felt. the cold night air stung your cheeks, but the sharp pain of betrayal was far more intense. you rushed through the dimly lit streets, your breath coming in ragged gasps as tears blurred your vision. behind you, namjoon was desperately trying to catch up. his voice broke through the darkness, filled with anguish and regret. “wait! please, just wait!”

you continued to walk briskly, not wanting to give in. but his relentless pursuit forced you to stop. panting, you faced him, the cold wind whipping through your hair. “everything was a lie?” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. “you had sex with me, told me you loved me. just like that.”

namjoon’s face was a picture of torment. “no, it wasn’t like that. i meant every word i said. i truly did. i begged soyeon to put the plan off, but she threatened me. said she’d go public and ruin everything if i didn’t follow through. i just—iwanted my family’s approval, and i didn’t know how to stop it.”

his eyes were filled with genuine sorrow, and you could see the depth of his regret. but the hurt and betrayal you felt were too overwhelming. you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “i hope their approval was worth it.” with that, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the middle of the street, watching you retreat. the night seemed darker and colder as you made your way back home, your thoughts racing with the events of the evening.

the next morning, the weight of the previous night’s events was still heavy on your shoulders. as you shuffled through the living room, the television blared with news about the scandal that had erupted. the screen displayed images of you and jackson, along with headlines about the altercation and the fallout from the nightclub’s opening. the impact was immediate and severe. your company’s sales began to plummet, and the media frenzy only added fuel to the fire. the news seemed to taunt you with every broadcast, a relentless reminder of the public humiliation and the damage done.

in the kim manor, however, the atmosphere was quite different. namjoon’s family gathered around, cheering him on as if he had emerged victorious. their approval was palpable, yet namjoon himself was far from triumphant. his face was a mask of despondency, a stark contrast to the elation of those around him.

back in your home, the situation was equally strained. eunha found you in a state of distress, her face etched with concern as she watched the news. despite the severe drop in your company’s sales, she remained a pillar of support. she wrapped her arms around you in a comforting hug, her presence a soothing balm to your wounded spirit. “we’ll get through this,” she assured you. “i’ll take care of the fallout. we’ll find a way to fix this. it’ll all be okay.” her words, though calming, did little to erase the sting of betrayal or the uncertainty of the future. you clung to her reassurance, finding solace in her unwavering support as you both faced the daunting task of repairing the damage and moving forward from the scandal that had rocked your world.

the days following the scandal were a whirlwind of turmoil and distress. the fallout from the nightclub incident extended far beyond the immediate embarrassment. at school, the situation was just as brutal. whispers and mocking glances followed you through the hallways, and every classroom felt like a stage for public ridicule. you were isolated, left to navigate the hostile environment alone. the once familiar faces of your classmates now seemed cold and distant, their earlier camaraderie replaced by harsh judgment.

jackson was the only one who stood by your side. his presence was a rare comfort in the sea of hostility, and he did his best to shield you from the worst of it. he took on the role of a defender, confronting anyone who dared to speak ill of you and making it clear that their behavior was unacceptable. despite his efforts, you couldn’t shake the lingering resentment toward him. his failure to disclose the truth about the scheme had deeply hurt you. His words, though sometimes harsh, were a small consolation amidst the overwhelming negativity.

in the midst of all of it, namjoon watched the drama unfold from a distance, his heart heavy with regret. every time he saw you being treated unjustly, it pierced him deeply. the sight of Jackson standing up for you, despite his own flaws, only highlighted how namjoon had failed to protect you when it mattered most. he grappled with his guilt, knowing he had played a role in the orchestrated chaos that had so thoroughly disrupted your life.

that night, he was scheduled to give a live report regarding the scandal. his family, sensing an opportunity to further their own agenda, encouraged him to use the platform to discredit your company as much as possible. they saw it as a chance to solidify their position and finally diminish your company. despite their pressure, namjoon’s conscience weighed heavily on him. he knew you would be watching, and the thought of adding more pain to your already wounded spirit was unbearable.

when the cameras rolled and the broadcast began, namjoon took a deep breath, bracing himself for the weight of his words. the studio was brightly lit, the atmosphere tense as reporters and cameras focused on him. his heart raced, and for a moment, he struggled to maintain his composure. the pressure to conform to his family's demands was immense, but as he looked into the camera, he saw your face in his mind.

he began his speech with a steely resolve, his voice calm but firm. “to those of you who are watching and, (y/n), i know you’re watching—i want to say this directly to you.” his gaze seemed to penetrate through the camera, reaching out across the miles. “don’t let these people fool you. (y/n) (l/n) and eunha (l/n) built their business from the ground up and used what little resources they had to make it happen. what happened was nothing but a publicity stunt set up by kim group to tear hanbok group down. please, support them as you always have.”

the words hung in the air, their impact palpable. namjoon’s declaration was a shocking turn of events, and the nation watched in stunned silence. for a moment, the spotlight shifted from the scandalous drama to his unexpected defense of your company. the studio fell silent, the only sound being the low hum of the camera equipment.

back at your home, you sat in stunned disbelief as the broadcast played on the television. the room felt eerily quiet as you absorbed his words. the gravity of his statement was overwhelming, and for a moment, you felt as though the world had stopped spinning. the anger and betrayal you had felt were momentarily eclipsed by a flood of conflicting emotions. eunha, who had been beside you through the entire ordeal, was equally shocked. her eyes widened as she listened to his defense, her expression a mixture of astonishment and confusion. the unexpected turn of events left you both in stunned silence, processing the weight of his public declaration.

the impact on hanbok group was immediate and profound. the public’s perception began to shift, with many people rallying in support of your company. the initial backlash softened as the truth behind the scandal was revealed. the sales slump began to recover, and the damage caused by the scandal started to heal.

later that night, the weight of the day's events had left you restless. tossing and turning in bed, you struggled to find solace amidst the turmoil of emotions. the soft glow of the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room. just as you were beginning to drift back into a fitful sleep, a series of urgent knocks echoed through the quiet house, jolting you awake.

confused and still groggy, you made your way to the front door. as you peered through the peephole, your heart skipped a beat. standing on the other side was namjoon, his figure shrouded in the darkness of the night. you opened the door without hesitation, instinctively ushering him inside.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, concern lacing your voice. the chill of the night air had seeped into the hallway, and you quickly pulled him in, closing the door behind him. his face was etched with a mixture of exhaustion and determination. “my speech, it got me kicked out of the house,” he explained, his voice tinged with a note of frustration and sorrow. “i had nowhere else to go.”

you guided him inside, leading him to your room. the warmth of the interior was a welcoming contrast to the cold he had just endured. namjoon’s eyes were filled with remorse as he took in the space, a safe haven he had come to, despite the circumstances.

“i'm so sorry,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “i never meant for any of this to happen. i meant everything i said. i love you, i'd rather be your lover than their successor. if it means losing my family, then i’d rather have you.” his words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. the vulnerability in his gaze made it clear how deeply he regretted the hurt he had caused. the pain and betrayal you felt were still fresh, but seeing him so raw and honest made something shift within you.

you took a deep breath, your heart aching with a mix of love and lingering hurt. “namjoon,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “i love you too. i always have. if losing your family means that you can be with me, then i'd rather be your family. i want us to find a way to be together.”

his eyes welled with tears, the weight of his actions and their consequences finally hitting home. he reached out, pulling you into a tender embrace. the warmth of his body against yours was a comfort after the chaos of the day. you both held each other tightly, the silence of the room filled with unspoken promises and the hope of a new beginning.

the night wore on as you both sat together, wrapped in each other's arms. the emotional barriers between you slowly began to dissolve, replaced by a sense of understanding and reconciliation. the world outside continued to spin, but within the safety of your room, the turmoil of the day seemed to fade, leaving only the quiet, steadfast bond between you.

✧.*

a/n: two fanfics in one night is wild ngl lowkey sad but i fw the heirs idc what anybody says the heirs was the blueprint for romance kdramas. kim tan was literally THE blueprint.