#truthfully I think something is being Hidden from me

[lokahjarta]

SHUT UP THE GNOME IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA!! that is so cute I'm obsessed! I've actually been looking for ways to incorporate an honoring of the spirit of the plant into my practice since I use weed so regularly as does the rest of my household.

To add, I will often give rosaries to Loki. I'm not sure why sometimes. I think We just think they're neat. Maybe sometime in the future he'll show me why :)

My mother got me a St. Michael (the archangel) medallion. But little does she know that I'm going to make it protective with Norse magick. Checkmate bc witchcraft is creative, no matter the image you are intending to be a vessel.

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You can’t stand each other, so it’s a mystery to you and Logan why you’re sent out together on an assignment. To make it worse, you’d have to act much closer than you really were.

Warnings:  mutant!reader (no specific power mentioned, though), fem!reader, enemies to lovers, swearing,  fake dating (technically fake marriage), mentions of violence, a little bit of suggestive stuff, a little bit of fluff i guess, and mild alcohol consumption. I think that's all but if i missed any, please let me know! also this is def loosely inspired by the movies 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and '10 Things I Hate About You'

Word Count: 5K

part 2

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ .

You hate the way he dresses.

You hate his stupid hair.

You hate the pet names he calls you.

You hate his voice.

You hate his hazel eyes.

You hate his smile.

You hate Logan Howlett.

It was no secret and neither was the fact that he couldn’t stand you either. You bickered like a married couple, constantly fought till you bled when you were training and couldn’t go a day without one of you insulting the other. Truthfully, it was probably because you were too alike - fire versus fire - and knew exactly how to press each other's buttons.

That’s why you were both confused when you stood in Charles’ office - dumbfounded expression on your faces - as he told you that he assigned you to a mission together.

“Oh, no way,” you nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke.

“Yeah, not happening,” Logan agreed. It may have been the only thing you’ve ever agreed on.

“That’s unfortunate for both of you, as I am sending you anyway. You are the only capable people that aren’t already out on an assignment or teaching a class full time.”

“How do you expect us to do it without killing each other?” you raised your eyebrows.

“You are adults. I trust you will navigate that on your own.”

Logan scoffed beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and biting the bullet, “what do we have to do?”

“There is a safe hidden in the home of a very wealthy socialite who’s been involved in orchestrating attacks on mutants - injecting them with a serum that replaces their mutation gene with that of a normal human,” Charles began to explain.

Your chest felt heavy. It always made you anxious and a little ill when you’d hear the stories of people who hated you so much that they’d go as far as to harm or violate you in some way, all in the name of trying to rid the earth of you completely or turn you into one of them.

“The only known sample of the serum is locked in that safe,” he continued, “and I will need you to retrieve it. You are to infiltrate a gathering being held in her home, obtain the contents of the safe and return promptly.”

“So, we’re…going to a party?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.

“A dinner party,” Charles replied, “and another thing - you must not attend as yourselves. You’ve been invited on the good word of another guest - someone we trust - but you’ve been invited as a married couple to avoid arousing suspicion.”

He must’ve been getting some sick enjoyment from this.

“Married couple,” you repeated, your eyes narrowed, “Us. You want us to pretend to be a couple.”

“What, do I have to like - touch her? I’m not doing that,” Logan piped up.

“Oh, i’m so disappointed,” you rolled your eyes, sarcasm clear in your voice, “Fuck off.”

“You fuck off.”

“No, you fuck off.”

“No, you.”

“I said it first!”

“Enough,” Charles interrupted, “you will be attending as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

“Huh,” Logan hummed, “that’s creative.”

“Its inconspicuous,” he replied.

“What are our first names, then?”

“You have creative liberty. I trust you will come up with something just as unremarkable.”

“How about Sid and Nancy?” you scoffed, chuckling a little in disbelief. 

“Does that mean I get to stab you?”

“You’d miss.”

Charles had his head in his hands.

“How about Jack and Jill?”

You both turned your heads to him when he spoke, pausing the back and forth between you that you were sure to continue later. You glanced at Logan and shrugged, indifferent to the names.

“That’ll work,” Logan mirrored your actions.

“Lovely. Tomorrow evening at five. I will have the address ready. In the meantime, here,” he opened his palm and placed two rings on the table, “these are your wedding bands.”

You huffed and took the smaller of the two, Logan picking up the plain silver band. Yours was simple - a false diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on each side.

“What, you couldn’t get me anything bigger?” you joked to Logan, holding up the ring. 

“Oh, you want somethin’ big?”

Your eyes went wide and you elbowed him in the arm, groaning in disgust, “Gross.”

—----------------

Five o’clock came fast, your nerves seemingly increasing the speed of time. You’d made a mess of your wardrobe looking for something to wear that was comfortable, but not too ‘you’. What would a rich person wear to a dinner party? How the hell were you supposed to know?

Some nice pants, a blouse and complimenting shoes would have to do - it was the only thing you had that looked relatively formal. Adding some jewelry made it just a little more convincing. 

You went down the stairs to meet Logan at the front door, dreading the coming hours. You turned the corner and finally saw him, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans, his boots, and he’d traded his usual leather jacket for a suit jacket. He actually cleaned up pretty nice, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.

He heard your footsteps and turned towards the sound. He could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck. 

He’d never seen you in anything nice like that - you never really had any occasions to dress up for - and he hated how much he liked it. Your pants hugged you perfectly, your blouse was buttoned low and you even had on a little bit of makeup. 

“You don’t look too bad,” he managed to comment, opening the door for you.

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you realized aloud, the both of you heading towards Logan’s truck, “You look alright.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.”

He opened the car door for you, uncharacteristically gentlemen-like.

You shot him an odd look and got in anyway.

“I’m practicing,” He explained, shutting your door and walking around to slide into his seat, “can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m a shit husband.”

“Good luck.”

“Uh-oh,” Logan had an amused expression, his eyes glued to the road as you began moving, “that’s not wife behavior, sunshine.”

“Bite Me.”

He clicked his tongue, “Feisty. Oh - I can use that when people ask about us! I’ll say it's one of your absolute worst qualities that any man would be repulsed by, but that our love is blind.”

You scoffed, “Great, and I’ll get to tell them you spend sixteen hours brushing your hair into cat ears and shed all over the bathroom like an animal.”

“See - now, that one seems a little personal.”

“It is.”

“Just pretend for a night that I’m the man of your dreams, okay?” he asked, “pretend I’m, uh - I don’t know, some celebrity guy you have a crush on.”

You were silent for a second, engrossed in thought, “you look nothing like Hugh Jackman.”

“Who? You know what - sure, pretend I'm him, alright? Just squint.”

Truthfully - and you’d rather be stabbed than admit it - Logan wasn’t far off from who you could picture yourself with. Strong, kind of handsome, good with kids. He was humble, most of the time. He was just terribly annoying and way too cocky.

It wasn’t long before he was shifting the truck into park and yanking the keys from the ignition. You let him open your door and walked beside him up the front steps.

“You ready, Jack?” you teased.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, Jill.”

He rang the doorbell and you stood awkwardly, eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was huge - probably only a bit smaller than the mansion - and modern, something probably built in the last ten years. The front lawn was impeccable, as were the marble statues strategically placed between foliage and flora. 

The door opened and you inhaled sharply, trying to prepare yourself to lie your ass off.

“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith! So lovely to meet you, please - come in,” a woman ushered you in, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. You recognized her immediately, Charles having shown you both a picture of the hostess beforehand. You politely greeted her and introduced yourselves, already scanning the room for an emergency exit in case things went sour.

“So,” she continued talking, leading you to sit in the living room with the other mingling guests,”tell me a little about yourselves! John wasn’t very descriptive when he mentioned you. What do you do for work?”

Whoever John was, you silently thanked him.

“Uh, well,” you began, nervously glancing at Logan, “I’m a bank teller.”

Plain, boring, inconspicuous, 

She then looked to Logan expectantly, awaiting his answer. 

“Cage fighter.”

Jesus Christ. You were glaring daggers into the side of his smiling face and he pretended not to notice.

“Really?” the woman in front of you inquired, a hand on her chest. You watched her eyes scan him up and down, landing on the pecs prominent through his shirt. You scoffed out of instinct, faking a cough to cover it up.

‘Oh, yeah. Undefeated MMA champ.”

You looked away to hide the scowl on your face when your eyes locked on the vodka bottle sitting on the table a few feet away with a collection of other booze. Bingo.

“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” you smiled politely and walked away before Logan could protest, leaving him to his own devices.

You twisted the top off the bottle and picked up a glass, filling it with Vodka and some soda that was left on the table.You almost walked away with it, planning to keep it in your hands until you felt your nerves subside, until you remembered you were supposed to be a wife. Wives brought their husbands drinks, right? Not doing so would look rude and rude might blow your cover. So, you reluctantly picked up another glass and filled it partially with whiskey, knowing it was something he’d drink. You happened to glance across to the kitchen and notice a neat little rack of spices and condiments on the counter. A bottle of soy sauce was front and center, like a message from the universe, and you giggled to yourself as you snatched the bottle and hid it up your sleeve - this could be a good night if you made it entertaining.

You returned to Logan with both glasses, handing him the one filled with significantly darker liquid. He looked a little surprised but accepted it anyway.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with narrowed eyes, a look that asked ‘what are you up to now?’

You simply nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at the hostess still standing in front of you.

“She’s a keeper,” he continued, holding the glass up to his mouth, “ always knows exactly what I like.”

You bit back a snicker as you watched him tilt the glass and finally take a sip.

His eyes went to yours immediately.  He pulled the glass from his lips, mouth still obviously full of whiskey and soy sauce. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead.

“Good, honey?” you smiled wide then, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly fighting a grimace. He swallowed and nearly gagged, coughing into his fist, “mhm, just a little strong.”

“Oh,” the hostess began, “Jack was just about to tell us how you met!”

A couple of guests had gathered in the same spot, all lingering in a semicircle. Logan was quite the charmer and it wasn’t a surprise that he already had a couple of women gawking at him, hanging on his every word as if any of it was true. 

“Was he?” your tone was shrill but you attempted to appear playful, lightly smacking him on the arm, “Oh, honey, you should really let me tell it.”

Whatever he was about to come up with, you hoped it was not in the same outlandish category as cage fighting. Before you could begin, though, he dismissively waved his hand in your direction.

“No, no - you’re a little forgetful, sweetheart,” his grin was mischievous as he turned to speak to the surrounding guests, “so, it all started with a tshirt competition at a bar where the girls had to - “

“Nope! Nope,” you interjected, doing your best to keep your tone light and shaking your head, “haha - that must have been another girl, honey!”

That earned a few chuckles from the guests around you and you took the opportunity while everyone's attention was on you to try and spin a tale of your own.

“So, we actually met a couple years ago,” you started, mulling over what true details to sprinkle in or if you should make it up entirely, “uh - in a library.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. You’d been at the mansion for a couple days before you bumped into him in the library while gathering books to try and put together your first lesson plan. You had a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other - admittedly stupid - but you’d always been careful. Except for that once. 

You had a book open in your arms, resting atop the stack you already gathered. You were walking and reading - again, admittedly not very smart - when you bumped into someone, spilling coffee on both of you and sending the stack of books to the floor with an audible thump. 

“Fuck, sorry -” you began to apologize, finally looking up to the strangers face. It was Logan, of course, though you didn’t know that at the time. You remember thinking he was handsome with his scruffy mutton chops and well groomed hair - until he opened his mouth.

“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”

You knew it was partially your fault but were irked by his attitude.

“Dude, you weren’t paying attention either, obviously!” you snapped back, looking down at the beige stain now adorning your white button up.

“I’m not the one who carries coffee and a shit ton of books at the same time.”

“Whatever.”

That was your grand introduction, neither of you even exchanging names.

Logan remembered it about the same way you did, though the version he tells is a little different. He loved to tell people that when you bumped into him, it was because you were so lovestruck that you just walked right into him. The part he always left out, though, was the first thing he thought when he saw you. He’d scolded you before even looking up to see who you were and when he had, he wished he’d reacted a little differently. 

You were beautiful, even with coffee spilt all over yourself. You looked like a girl he’d only ever dreamed of, all the way down to the color of your hair and eyes. Unfortunately, he’d already been an asshole. So, from then on, that was basically your shtick - bickering over little things, calling each other names - all to the amusement of everyone around you. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was obvious to everyone else that the kind of teasing you did was only because you had feelings for one another - like two elementary school kids - and neither one of you seemed to know how to approach it. The mask would slip sometimes for either one of you - when he’d place a hand on your lower back, the times he’d managed to pin you to the mat during training - and you’d always find yourself staring at the ceiling that night, overthinking every interaction you’d had until the sun came up. He was never any better off, pacing in his room to try and decipher what the hell it was he actually felt for you.

Anyway, you decided to stick to the real story, minus the part where you insulted each other.

“We bumped into each other, literally, and I had coffee and a bunch of books in my arms. So, I drop the books, coffee spills everywhere - of course. Then I looked up at him, and..” you paused, the truth caught in a lump in your throat.

“And it was love at first sight,” Logan added, grinning down at you, “for both of us.”

His eyes were trained on yours and he continued to contribute to the story.

“The second I saw her, I fell in love.”

He was still looking at you. Why was he still looking at you like that? You were supposed to be husband and wife, right, but he was leaning into it far heavier than you expected. It felt like you were the only ones in the room.

A couple ‘aw’s were shared between guests and you smiled politely at the reminder that you were in fact not the only people in the room. As the conversation switched to another topic and someone else began to speak, you felt Logan’s hand at the back of your head, gently playing with your hair. Your face was pink - he was being too nice.

A short while later, you were sitting on the couch beside him, listening to someone’s drawn out story that you stopped paying attention to after six minutes.

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Logan uttered unceremoniously and stood from the couch. He disappeared into the house and not even a minute later, another guy came to sit in his spot.

“Hey,” he put his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think we’ve met.”

You looked at the fingers grazing your shoulder and sat forward to shrug them off, “nope.”

He told you his name and you couldn’t have cared any less, deciding to actually tune back into the story being told rather than converse with him. He was alright looking, but his approach was far too off putting. 

“So, did you come alone?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, opening your mouth to answer before he cut you off.

“Cause It looks like it, and I can’t stand to see a pretty girl alone.”

You groaned in disgust, hoping if you were dry enough in your answers, he’d leave you be.

“mhm.”

It wasn’t really an answer to anything, just a noise of affirmation. You hoped he’d get the hint then, but of course, he didn’t. In what would probably be the stupidest thing he’d done that night, the guy moved his arm from the back of the couch so he could squeeze your thigh. Right as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you saw a hand grip his shoulder from behind. Logan was leaning over the sofa, bringing his face a little lower so he wouldn’t cause a scene, his dog tags hanging when he leaned forward. He had a death grip on the guy's shoulder while he used his other hand to steady himself against the sofa. 

“Hey, bub.”

The guy looked a little terrified, to say the least, but Logan didn’t let up there.

“Do you always go around hittin’ on people’s wives? Or is it just mine?”

His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to run but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in his grip. 

“I-I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know she - “ the guy sputtered, trying to nervously laugh it off.

“Mhm. Hey, tell you what - why don’t you leave my girl alone and maybe I’ll give you a five minute head start to get the fuck out of here.”

He let go of his shoulder and that was enough to drive him away, the guy scurrying to his feet and finding somewhere else to mingle.

You didn’t know why you found yourself smiling the moment he’d said ‘my girl’. You rid yourself of it with a shake of your head, reminding yourself you were there to do a job.

“Hey,” Logan leaned himself down even further so he could whisper, “I gotta show you something, c’mere.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him but got up to follow. He stopped in the hallway in front of the bathroom, looked around to see if anyone would notice you, and promptly dragged you in with him before closing and locking the door. He hit the light switch and you looked around.

“Do you always take girls to the bathroom on first dates?” you teased, crossing your arms.

“You’d have to go out with me to find out,” he remarked, “besides, it’s not like that. Look.”

You watched him get low to the ground to open the cupboard under the sink and you crouched with him, following his pointing finger to the wood paneling in the back. It looked like a fake back - a board that appeared to be the back of the cabinet but definitely had something behind it. There was a sliver of metal visible behind it when you shined your phone’s flashlight.

“I figured we should look everywhere, so while I was in here I was checking it out - saw that. You think that’s it?”

“Could be,” you answered honestly, “that, or it’s some sort of electrical box we’re about to rip out of the wall. It’s an odd hiding spot for a safe.”

“Not really. Think about it - where's the first place you’d look for a safe?”

“Bedroom or office, maybe.”

“Right, and where's one of the last places you’d check?” he gestured to the open cabinet.

“Under…the sink,” you realized aloud, looking between him and the wooden board. 

“Exactly,” he nodded, swiping the contents of the cabinet onto the floor to gain access, “here’s the thing, though - I’m too big to get in there.”

He could maybe stick his head in, but in order to duck under the pipes from the sink, he’d need to have shoulders that were much less broad.

You sighed, knowing what that meant.

“Alright, alright - move. This better be it.”

You reluctantly crawled under the sink and into the cabinet on your hands and knees. You yanked the wooden board with all your strength and it came free, revealing a metal safe.

“Got it! You were right, it’s the safe.”

Logan simply hummed in response, clearing his throat. You figured he’d be a little more enthusiastic. 

Truthfully, he was too busy staring at your ass in the nice pants you were wearing to pay attention. When he heard your voice, he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having about you so he could think of a response. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you all dressed up drove him a little crazy.

“Yeah? Is it locked?”

You inspected the metal box, holding the absurdly large padlock hooked around the latch that opened the door.

“Uh-huh. Padlock - we’re gonna need the numbers.”

“No, we don’t. Bring it out.”

You did as you were told, crawling back out with the safe under your arm and placing it on the bathroom rug. It was a pretty small one - probably a little bigger than a basketball.

Logan picked it up and set it on the counter beside the sink. He unsheathed a claw and sliced through the metal latch that held the door closed in one swift motion.

“Well, yeah - that's one way to do it,” you shrugged.

“Easiest way to do it.”

He reached in and took out the small glass vial. He put it inside the pocket of his suit jacket.

“What if it falls out?” you asked.

“It won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Alright, kid,” he sighed, “what do you want me to do with it? ‘Cause i’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry it.”

You rolled your eyes and looked him over.

“How about you wrap it in your jacket, like cushioning?”

“Fine.”

He reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, keeping the vial in the pocket but folding the jacket into a ball. You hastily replaced everything in the cabinet, safe included, and you followed Logan as he opened the door to step out - only to be met with another guest, her fist raised to knock.

“Oh! Dear,” she chuckled, clearly a little startled. She looked to the both of you, a grin appearing on her face, “Young love, what a gift. Don’t worry, I didn't see a thing!”

You shot her a confused look, chuckling nervously before you happened to catch a glance of your reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Your hair was mussed and your blouse was untucked on one side from having to bend up and down. Logan had taken off his suit jacket and you realized what it was she was implying.

“Oh, oh - we weren’t -”

“It’s alright, honey,” she responded as you stepped out, “like I said - my lips are sealed.”

She shot you both a wink, went into the bathroom and shut the door.

“She thought we were fucking in there,” you mumbled, eyes wide in embarrassment.

“Is that so bad?”

You snapped your head towards him, a confused look on your face, “what?”

Logan shrugged, “we're supposed to be husband and wife, aren't we?”

You shook your head in disbelief and decided to ignore him, both of you joining the other guests back in the living room. Dinner was finally ready and everyone took their seats in the dining room. There were a couple of things on the table you couldn’t even pronounce.

“Is that…meat? A vegetable?” you leaned over to logan, whispering behind your hand and nodding towards one of the dishes.

“Hell if I know,” he muttered, “I don’t think I wanna find out.”

You both piled on the few things onto your plates, poking at it with your forks.

“Do you wanna get a pizza after this?” you whispered.

“Definitely,” he replied, pushing around an unrecognizable sludge with his utensil.

“So, how long did you two say you’ve been together?” You both looked up, only to be met with the hostess’ stare. You had never mentioned how long you’d been ‘together’. Her smile was polite but her stare was piercing, as if she knew something she was not supposed to.

“About three years,” you replied, looking to him for back up.

“We got married a couple months in,” he added, grinning at you. Again, he had that look - like he wasn’t just pretending to be in love with you. 

“We were in this restaurant - this little place we go to all the time,” he kept talking, “and I just told her I thought she was beautiful, that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.”

“Really? I have to say,” she began, sipping from her glass,” for a young couple who got together so quickly, you two don’t seem very affectionate towards each other.”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You shot Logan a panicked look, but he appeared unbothered.

“Ah,” he clicked his tongue,” it’s this rule she’s got about PDA. I’d be all over her if I could.”

You hated the way your face became hot. You couldn’t tell if he was leaning into it to be convincing or flirting just to make you flustered. You heard a muffled snicker from somewhere across the table and your eyes shifted to the source - it was the woman from earlier, the one who’d thought you and Logan were getting busy in the bathroom. 

“Can I at least get a kiss, babe?” Logan cooed, a smug look on his face.

“What are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.

“Being a husband,” he replied in a hush voice. 

It all happened within seconds. His hands cupped your face, warm and soft, and he leaned in to plant a kiss right on your lips. It was gentle and you melted into his touch, kissing him back. When he pulled away, you were still stunned, your lips parted in surprise. 

Logan kissed you.

His lips tasted like the remnants of cigar smoke. His touch was nearly intoxicating, like you were drunk off just the way he held you. You inhaled sharply and finally turned your face out of his grip, eyes glued to the table cloth. You had almost forgotten where you were - feeling like the room was spinning - and you let out a nervous laugh.

The topic of discussion moved on quickly and it seemed like any suspicion the hostess had about either of you had dissipated. You and Logan decided to say your goodbyes immediately after dinner, making some excuse about having to wake up early the next morning. When you stepped out and he shut the door behind him, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.

“What the hell was that?” you spat, eyebrows knitted. 

“What was what?”

He was completely nonchalant as he continued to walk next to you towards his truck. 

“You kissed me.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He stopped with you at the passenger side of the truck, standing in front of the door so you couldn’t get in.

“What if I wanted to?”

You swallowed hard. It was dead silent outside, save for the chirping of crickets.

“What?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted, chewing his bottom lip, “I wanted to kiss you.”

You didn't know what to say. He hated you, didn’t he?

“Logan, I - “

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in there, pretending to be together.”

His voice almost sounded strained, like he was pleading.

“You don’t even like me, you hate me,” you deflected, but he shook his head.

“That’s not true. I never hated you. I figured you’d hate me after I acted like an asshole when we met, so I went with it. I don’t hate you. I think you’re funny, I think you’re pretty - I just never really knew how to tell you that.”

When you only stared in response, he moved aside and opened your door with a defeated sigh. You were still speechless but you hesitantly slid into the seat anyway, letting him close the door. When he got into the driver's side and started the ignition, you couldn’t stop looking over at him.

“So, you like me,” you finally said aloud.

He kept his eyes glued to the road when he responded in a low voice, “why do you think I bother you so much?”

“You pick on me because you like me? Like a little kid?” you couldn’t help the amusement in your voice as your confused expression turned to a smile.

You saw him bite back a smile that mirrored yours, shaking his head.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Well, you’re not too bad, you know, and I guess you’re kind of handsome.”

“Oh, really?” 

“Mhm, but don’t make me take it back.”

The rest of the short ride home was spent in comfortable silence, both of you seemingly trying to figure out where you’d go from there. When Logan parked his truck and got out, he came around your side to open your door. You hopped out and he shut the door for you, but grabbed your hand before you started to walk away.

“Hey, c’mere for a second.”

You let him pull you a little closer, intertwining both your hands. The evening air was chilly and you could see his breath in the air when he spoke.

“Can I kiss you, for real this time?”

You could feel your heart beating fast and you nodded eagerly. The second you did, his lips were already on yours. His hands let go of yours to settle in your hair, threading the strands between his fingers. His touch felt warm in comparison to the cold air and you leaned further into him with your hands gripping his jacket to pull him close. When he pulled away, he rested his hands on your waist and planted another kiss on your forehead. 

“Maybe we could, uh, try again,” he cleared his throat, running his hands up and down your sides, “be nice to each other this time.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t hate Logan, even though you tried. 

You couldn’t hate his perfect hair.

You couldn’t hate his sweet voice.

You couldn’t hate his kind smile.

You couldn’t hate the way he dressed.

You just couldn’t hate Logan Howlett. 

So, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips and letting him hold you as close as possible, almost lifting you off the ground with his arms around you.

“We should probably go inside, huh?” you mumbled when you leaned back, lightly scratching the mutton chops on the side of his face in an affectionate manner. Those were another thing you’d pretended to hate - probably because you were embarrassed to admit you thought he pulled them off well.

“As you wish, Mrs. Smith.”

He held his hand out for you to take and you did, eyeing the ring on your finger.

“You know,” you held up your hand to show him the jewelry, “I think i’ll keep this.”

He grinned, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss, “I think i'll keep mine, too.”

You were both still holding hands when you went inside, blushing like two little kids. You were so engrossed in one another that you didn’t notice Jean and Ororo in the hallway ahead of you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Now that he knew he could actually do it, he couldn’t help himself.

“I’ll take it your night went well,” Ororo giggled, Jean doing the same. You jumped a little in surprise, covering your pink face in mild embarrassment. 

“What changed? I thought you hated each other,” the latter of the two asked.

“Eh, he’s not so bad,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders.

‘’Turns out, we make a pretty good fake husband and wife,” he explained, “I guess we got a little too carried away with it.”

As the two of you walked hand in hand further down the hall, Ororo elbowed Jean lightly, leaning over to whisper behind her hand.

“You owe me twenty bucks.”

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you sm for reading!! I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this as is or add smut so I'll leave it how it is and if enough people ask for it, I can make a part two <3 pls reblog and like if you enjoyed/want more and my inbox is always open :)

Edit: here is the link to part 2!

[skywalkerslvt]

Truth Serum—Logan Howlett

❥Pairing: Logan Howlett x AFAB!Reader (no pronouns other than 'you' mentioned)

❥Summary: You and Logan, drugged with truth serum, get trapped in separate cells during a mission. Things ensue...

❥CW: 18+, smut, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, minor use of pet names (Logan says 'baby' once or twice), 1.8k words

❥a/n: Need his big mutant cock rearranging my insides right now. Wrote this really fast to satiate the new hyperfixation lmao. Not proofread, might edit later if I have time! hope u enjoy!!

The mission was a mess from the start. What was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance turned into a disaster when you and Logan got ambushed by a group of well-armed mercenaries. Despite your best efforts, you were overpowered, captured, and dragged into a hidden underground facility.

Now, after being relentlessly questioned with truth serum, you found yourself in a cold, dimly lit cell, the metal bars mocking your current predicament. By the time they threw you back into your cells, your head was spinning. The serum had forced out every truth, every hidden thought, and you were left feeling raw and exposed. Worse, the lingering effects made it hard to think straight, amplifying every emotion. The worst part wasn't the isolation or the confinement—it was knowing Logan was just a few feet away, locked up in a cell next to yours. You couldn't see him, but you could hear his frustrated growls and the occasional clang as he tested the strength of his restraints.

"Logan?" you called out, your voice echoing slightly in the narrow space.

"I'm here," he replied, his voice a low, rough rumble. "You okay?"

“I'm cold,” you answered truthfully, the effects of the truth serum lingering in your veins, rendering you incapable of telling even a white lie. “Are you okay?” 

Logan huffed a laugh at your response. “I'm fine,” he replied, voice deep and gravelly sending shivers down your spine. 

"We need to figure out how to get out of here," you said, trying to focus on the mission. "Any ideas?"

"I’m working on it," Logan grunted, and you could hear the strain in his voice as he tested his restraints again. "These bars are tough, but they won't hold me forever."

Silence fell between you, broken only by the sounds of Logan's efforts to free himself. Each grunt, each frustrated growl sent your mind wandering to places it shouldn't, especially given your current situation. You tried to shake off the thoughts, but the truth serum was making it hard to keep control. 

You had always been drawn to Logan—his rugged exterior and intense demeanor had always sparked something deep inside you, but you'd managed to keep those feelings under wraps, focusing instead on the mission. Now, confined and vulnerable under the effects of the truth serum, those suppressed desires came roaring to the forefront. Every grunt, every restrained growl from his cell fueled your imagination, making it impossible to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. The harsh reality of your situation only seemed to intensify the electric charge between you two, turning the once manageable attraction into an uncontrollable blaze. A shuddering sigh passed your lips as you closed your eyes, trying to think of something, anything other than Logan fucking you, those low grunts a hot breath in your ear as he pounds his thick cock into your aching cunt. 

"What's on your mind?" Logan's voice cut through the silence, startling you. Your sigh didn’t pass Logan’s ears, his enhanced hearing picking up every little sound you made. You were lucky the wall between you was blocking the scent of your arousal from him. 

You hesitated, biting your lip, knowing the serum would force out whatever you were thinking. "N-nothing" you grunted, voice straining from the effort it took to tell that small lie, but your voice betrayed you.

"Come on," he pressed, his tone softer now. "Talk to me. What are you thinking right now?"

The words slipped out before you could stop them. "You," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’m thinking about you."

Logan went quiet for a moment, and you could almost feel the intensity of his gaze even through the walls between you. "What about me?" he asked, his voice rough with curiosity.

You took a shaky breath, unable to lie. "The sounds you're making... they’re making me think of... things. Things we shouldn't be thinking about right now." You cursed yourself for admitting this so easily, for getting caught in the first place. 

A low growl rumbled from Logan's cell. "Tell me," he urged, his voice darkening with desire. "Tell me what you're thinking."

Your face flushed deeper, the truth serum forcing out your most private thoughts. “I was thinking about how you might sound if we were in the same cell,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “What noises you’d make if you were inside me, taking me on the floor.”

The cell fell into an expectant silence, Logan’s breathing becoming more laboured. After a moment, he let out a low, appreciative growl. “Oh yeah? That’s quite the thought,” he rumbled, voice thick with a mixture of satisfaction and dark amusement. “You’d be surprised how much I can imagine what it’d be like, too. The way you’d moan, how you’d squirm and gasp on my cock. Bet you’d be so fucking responsive.”

You shivered at his words, the combination of the truth serum and his filthy words making your thoughts spin wildly. “You think so?” you asked, voice breathy and eager.

Logan’s response was rough, laden with desire. “Hell yeah. I’d make sure you felt every inch of me. And you’d be begging for more before long, that’s for damn sure. Just imagine it—bet you’d take me so well.”

The vivid imagery of his words sent a shudder down your spine, your mind swirling with the possibilities. Despite the dire situation, the raw honesty between you both was creating a new kind of tension, one that was both thrilling and unnervingly intimate.

You couldn’t help it–your arousal was too much. You slowly trailed your hand up your thigh, fingers circling over your clit through your pants. “I–I’d be…so good for you, Logan,” you panted out between moans. “Need you so bad.”

Logan's breathing hitched at your admission, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. “Yeah? You’d be good for me, huh? Tell me what you’d want me to do if I was in there with you.”

You could hear the raw need in his voice, and it only spurred your own desire. You let out a shaky breath as you slipped your fingers under your waistband, teasing your already sensitive clit. “I–I’d want you to kiss me, touch me.”

The muffled sound of his zipper being yanked down could be heard through the wall, the thought of him fisting his cock to your voice now spurring you on, quickening your strokes. “Yeah? Touch you where, baby? How do you want me to touch you?” he responded, the smirk evident in his voice. 

The rough edge in Logan's voice sent a jolt through you, mixing with your own mounting arousal. You could hear the slight rustling from his side, the thought of him responding to you in such a primal way adding to the intensity of your desire. You whimpered, fingers working in slow, deliberate circles around your clit as you imagined his touch.

“I’d want you to start with my neck,” you gasped, voice strained. “Kiss and bite me there, tease me until I’m begging for more. Then move down, touch me everywhere. I want to feel your hands on me, everywhere.”

Logan's breath quickened, his voice rougher with need as he now stroked his cock. “Fuck, keep going.”

You could almost feel his touch, the way he’d explore your body with that intense focus. Your breaths grew quicker, each one a mix of gasps and moans as you continued to pleasure yourself. “And then I’d want you to put your cock inside me,” you moaned, your voice trembling with need. “Feel every inch of you inside me, make me come with you buried deep in me.”

Logan's voice was thick with desire, mixed with a hint of smugness. “I love the way you sound when you touch yourself thinking about me. Fuck, it drives me crazy.”

You could feel the heat building inside you, each stroke of your fingers sending waves of pleasure through your body. The images of Logan’s rough hands and his powerful presence were fueling your arousal, driving you closer to the edge.

“Logan…” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper, trembling with anticipation. “I’m so close. I need you… so bad.”

Logan’s voice came through, rough and filled with raw desire. “I’m right here, baby. Just thinking about you coming while you touch yourself, it’s driving me wild.”

The pressure inside you intensified, each moan and gasp escaping your lips growing more desperate. You quickened your movements, your fingers pressing harder against your clit, teasing and stroking with the intensity you craved. The thought of Logan’s deep voice, his body pressed against yours, only heightened the pleasure.

“Logan, I’m gonna…” you whimpered, your orgasm building like a tidal wave, ready to crash over you.

With a final, shuddering moan, you came. Your body convulsed with the intense release, your fingers still moving in frantic circles as you rode the waves of pleasure. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your body trembling as the last echoes of your climax slowly faded.

On the other side of the wall, Logan was experiencing his own tormenting pleasure. The sounds of your moans and gasps mixed with his own grunts as he fisted his cock, imagining the way you’d feel around him. The fantasy of your touch and the way you’d sound as you came was too much for him to bear.

“Fuck, yes,” Logan growled, his voice thick with need. “I’m right there with you.”

His hand moved quickly, driven by the intense images and sounds filling his mind. With a deep, guttural groan, he came, his release spilling out with a force that matched the intensity of his arousal. The sensation of climax wracked his body, his grip on his cock tightening as he rode the wave of pleasure. His breaths were heavy and uneven, each one coming in harsh, satisfied gasps.

Both of you lay there, spent and breathless, the aftermath of your climaxes leaving you in a state of both physical and emotional exhaustion. 

As the echoes of your climaxes settled into the heavy silence of the cells, you and Logan were left breathless and spent. The raw, electric tension between you had transformed into a shared, unspoken promise, even amidst your grim circumstances.

Logan’s voice cut through the quiet, rough and filled with a heated intensity that made your pulse quicken all over again. “When we get out of here,” he growled, each word dripping with desire, “I’m gonna show you just how good it can be. I’m gonna make sure you feel every bit of me.”

The thought of his words sent a shiver through you, the anticipation mingling with the lingering effects of the truth serum. Even as you lay there, exhausted and vulnerable, the promise of what was to come fueled a deep, burning desire that only added to the intensity of your situation.

[theemporium]

[4.9k] things start to feel real as luke’s rookie season in the nhl officially begins. but maybe it’s not as bad as he thought. and maybe those good vibes will follow him off the ice too. (smut)

series masterlist

.

“You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit.”

Your smile widened as you pulled the door open further, letting the boy shuffle inside with a small wince at the bright sun shining through your windows. The hood of his jumper was thrown over his head, his curls a mess and his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses he stole from Jack’s room after he woke up. 

It wasn’t the best state for you to see him but, truthfully, that was not his biggest concern at the moment. 

A few months away from college and he almost forgot what a bad influence his friends could be when it came to drinking. There was a vague memory somewhere around the fifth round of shots where Luke was pretty sure Nico tried to get them to drink some water, but it was pointless when Ethan found another bottle of tequila and insisted they had to drink it before it went to waste.

And, to Luke’s drunken mind, that sounded like the most logical solution. 

He was honestly surprised the three of them had managed to wake up early enough to catch the plane back to Michigan. They had woken him up to say goodbye, muttering something about afternoon practice and other things that Luke vaguely remembered before he fell back asleep for a few hours. 

Luke was pretty sure he was still drunk when he woke up a second time to the sound of Jack blasting music in the kitchen. 

Somewhere between his annoying brother and the lingering anxiety that followed with the hangover as result of the night before, Luke found himself at a local bakery to grab some goods before he stopped over at your place, not even thinking to message you beforehand (if he even knew where his phone was). 

“But you don’t smell shit so that’s a plus,” you noted as you shut the door behind him before taking pity on his state, dragging the curtains shut again whilst Luke muttered his thanks under his breath.

“I think I bought half the bakery,” Luke admitted with a sheepish expression as he extended the bag towards you. “I asked for every cherry based thing they owned, which surprisingly isn’t much.” He paused for a moment. “Maybe I should have tried another bakery.”

You laughed, brows raised in question. “I’m surprised you can stomach anything right now.”

“Oh, I can’t,” Luke said, his nose scrunching up in disgust like the idea made him feel nauseous. It did, if he was being honest. It was bad enough he almost threw up after Jack made him chug some water. “These were…well, they were the start of an apology.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“For…abandoning you in my room after everything,” he continued, his cheeks heating up. Because apparently no matter how much he drank the night before, he remembered well enough that he was a bit of a dick with how he ran off with his friends. “It was a shitty move. And it was shitty for me to make you hide under the bed.”

“That did throw me off,” you admitted, though there was a slight teasing tilt to your voice. “Although, your bed was surprisingly clean under there. No plates growing mould or other questionable diseases.”

Luke scoffed a little. “I’m not a slob.”

You shot him a look.

“I’m not that much of a slob,” Luke corrected, grumbling under his breath before he let out a sigh. “You know, you are making this apology a lot harder than I imagined it being.”

“Probably doesn’t help that you’re hungover as fuck,” you teased, but you took the baked good from him. You peaked inside, noting just how much he had actually bought and something warm twisted in your stomach. “You really didn’t have to. It wasn’t that big of a deal, Luke.”

“But it was to me,” he murmured, a crease forming between his eyebrows. “I…I shouldn’t have done that. Like, don’t get me wrong, I love my friends. And I know they wouldn’t judge me but…”

“Hey,” you stepped forward, reaching out to gently touch him. “It’s fine, I promise. This was a part you hid from them for so long and it freaked you out. I get it.”

“I’m not embarrassed by you,” he blurted out, because apparently he has no filter or control over the words leaving his mouth. “Just in case you thought that. Because I’m not. The boys would probably love you but like—”

“You just don’t want them asking questions,” you finished for him, watching as the boy shyly nodded his head. “You don’t have to explain yourself but thank you, anyways. And thank you for the pastries.” 

“Right,” he cleared his throat, nodding a little. “Well, I–”

“Go lay down,” you said, a smile growing on your face when his shoulders slumped in relief. “I wasn’t lying when I said you looked like shit. The fact you are even awake before noon is shocking, to be honest.”

“Thank you,” he sighed in relief as he made his way towards your couch, his feet shuffling against the floor. “If I had to go back and listen to Jack blast his obnoxious playlists, I would have died.”

You snorted. “Aw, baby is facing his first, proper hangover outside of cheap college vodka.”

He pulled his sunglasses off to glare at you. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” 

“Lie down,” you prompted as you gently pushed him a step forward. “We can nap on the couch. I’ll even show you the trick to hangovers.”

He raised his brows. “It’s not gonna be some weird shit like drinking raw egg yolks, is it?” 

“I was going to offer head scratches but if you want raw eggs—”

“No!”

You grinned. “That’s what I thought.” 

…

The thing about playing with the team during playoffs was that, as amazing as it was, they did get knocked out and the whole thing felt fairly short-lived.

Don’t get him wrong, it was still a surreal experience. Hockey had been a constant in his life, something that always felt familiar and welcoming no matter where he was. It had felt as recognisable and comforting to him as his family was. 

But to know he had made it? To know he was skating and playing and wearing the jersey of an NHL team? 

It brought a new thrill to hockey he had never expected, but basked in, nonetheless. It added an extra layer, an extra kick that college hockey could never compete with. It made him feel like everything was worth it, that everything worked out and his dreams aligned with the stars and—fuck, he was making his debut in the National Hockey League. 

But as fast as it came, it went. 

And then summer happened. 

And he was distracted by long nights in Michigan summer heat and cool beers and boat rides that made him feel like nothing else existed beyond the lakehouse. It felt like he was just a normal guy, spending the summer break with his brothers and his friends and pretending like life was always this easy. 

It was his last thread to normalcy before his life fully changed. 

And then he was moving to Jersey, his belongings packed into boxes and cases as he moved in with Jack for the first time since his brother was drafted. He spent days being paraded around his new city, trying to feel familiar in the unfamiliar apartment, trying to bond with a team that had been together long before his arrival. 

It was confusing and exciting and baffling and scary. Every emotion a person could experience, Luke had felt tenfold since he had started preseason training. He felt like he was stumbling through a life that wasn’t his, trying to catch up and get a hold of himself. 

Then, in a blink of an eye, he was about to step out for his first official game of his rookie year in the NHL. 

And, for some stupid reason, he was far more nervous than he had been for the playoff games. 

There wasn’t a pressure on him during the playoffs, not really. People were letting mistakes slide, willing to look over things because it was his first time stepping foot onto the ice for an NHL team. He knew he technically had that luxury now too, that he was a rookie and he was allowed to use this year to find his footing.

But it was hard to remember he was a rookie when everyone and everything kept reminding him he was the third Hughes brother. He wasn’t just a normal rookie or young kid starting out their career in the big leagues. He was the third brother to try and live up to an insane standard his brothers have set, he had to prove he wasn’t a bust who only got here because of his name. 

Luke felt more than ever that he had to prove he belonged, that he deserved to have his spot and his place in the team. That he was more than just his surname and the connotations it brought.

He had to prove—

cherry🍒: break a leg or whatever they say in hockey

cherry🍒: actually wait

cherry🍒: don’t break a leg, that would be pretty shit for you

cherry🍒: feel like it would be pretty useful to skate with two unbroken legs

cherry🍒: what i am trying to say is good luck! 

And, in a silly way, he knew it was stupid. He shouldn’t need to hear someone else say something, to try and reassure him. Jack had tried a few times to prompt the conversation as game day approached. A few of the other guys had tried too. Hell, even Quinn had called him to try and give him a pep talk.

But, in the nicest way he could put it, it felt meaningless when it came from people he felt like needed to say it. 

They needed to believe in him. 

You didn’t. 

Fuck, you didn’t even know a single thing about the sport. You didn’t understand the significance of his last name in the sport. You didn’t understand just how intense the next year of his life was about to be. You didn’t understand a single thing that the other people in his life had been trying to reassure him over. 

And, for some reason that was beyond Luke’s own understanding, that was what he needed.

He needed that unwavering, unbreakable faith from someone who didn’t have to support him. You weren’t his family. You weren’t his teammate. You weren’t a fan. You had no reason to lie to him, to sugarcoat your words and fluff away his worries. You had no reason to believe in him other than the fact you just did. 

And it was what he needed.

It was what he needed minutes before the game was due to start, the clock ticking to puck drop and his eyes lingering on your messages before he had to get up and head out to the ice.

He needed you. 

…

They won the first game of the season. 

And then, because the person in the league who was organising the game schedule decided they wanted to try and test them this early on, they played their second game the next night. 

And they won that one too.

It was surreal, to be fucking frank. It was a kind of buzz that Luke had never experienced before, not in hockey at least. 

Winning was always great, regardless of what age or what league you were playing in. Truthfully, he didn’t think anything would beat the thrill college hockey gave him. His attachment to the boys on his team, the adrenaline of the win pumping through him as he basked in the cheering crowd. 

He thought that was his peak. He thought that was the best it would ever get. 

And then he joined the NHL. 

There was something about wearing the jersey, about knowing that they had thousands of fans watching the game. There was something about skating straight towards his big brother and feeling Jack scream in his ear as they were crowded by the other boys. There was something about knowing this had been his dream since he was a kid, to know he was now living it out. 

It was the perfect way to kick off their season—to kick off his rookie season—and Luke genuinely didn’t think he could sit down for longer than two seconds if someone asked him to. His body was bone-tired, he needed decent rest because professional hockey was no joke and his body was still not used to the jump from college hockey.

But he was buzzing. He was practically vibrating with how excited he was. He felt like he could do anything at that moment.

The locker room was buzzing with talks about how to celebrate. Most of them were tired—happy but fucking tired. The younger group wanted to head out to a bar, the older ones wanted to try to be responsible for the sake of practice in the morning. Nico was somewhere in the middle, trying to be diplomatic and find a solution that worked for everyone.

But honestly, Luke didn’t want to stand in a bar where he would either have to sneak drinks or stay sober. And he didn’t particularly want to get drunk in the first place. And he didn’t want to just head home with Jack when his body felt like it could start bouncing off the walls. 

He had this ever present, insistent buzz itching beneath his skin and he had a million and one ideas on how to scratch it. 

Truthfully, everything was a blur. He didn’t remember the post-game interviews or whatever chirps were being thrown his way in the locker room. He didn’t remember what fuck-ass excuse he gave Jack as he clambered into the backseat of an Uber. He didn’t even remember ordering the Uber in the first place. 

He just knew it led him to your doorstep, knocking on your door somewhere past eleven when he hadn’t even stopped to think if you’d be awake or not. He just knew he wanted to see you. 

It was almost a shock when the door swung open a couple of seconds after he knocked. 

“Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with your team, winner?” You teased, leaning against the door as you spoke. Though, you didn’t look all that bothered with Luke showing up this late to your place unannounced. 

But his brain was still moving a million miles an hour and he knew—somewhere amongst the chaos of his thoughts—that he should have said hello, or apologised for randomly showing up, or for banging on your door when you could have been asleep.

But the only thing he managed to blurt out was, “I want to make you come.” 

You blinked. And again. And then one more time. 

And he thought his racing heart was going to explode in his chest before you pulled the door open wider, an invitation for him to step inside as you muttered something about your nosy neighbours overhearing the whole conversation and eavesdropping. 

Luke stood aimlessly in your entrance hallway, watching as you spun to quickly close the door behind him before turning on your heel to face him. You leaned back against the door, making his chest tighten in some kind of way at the way you smiled at him.

“Feeling confident after your big win, huh?” You grinned, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands, and he couldn’t help but find the act oddly endearing. “Does this mean you’re, like, first place or something?”

Luke didn’t bother fighting the smile growing on his face. “Yeah, we basically won the whole thing. Everyone has just forfeited from the championship.” 

“You know, you joke but if it wasn’t for the fact I can see you trying not to laugh at me, I would have believed you,” you said to him before pushing off the door, taking a few steps closer to him. “You never answered my question though. Did the win make you feel more confident?” 

“Maybe,” he swallowed, his fingers itching to just reach out for you the second you were at arm’s length from him. “It’s just…you always do stuff for me. I wanna do stuff for you too. But like, it’s okay if you don’t want—”

“Don’t do that,” you interrupted.

He frowned a little.

“Don’t second guess your own confidence,” you corrected yourself as you stopped just a step or two away from him. “Be sure of yourself. It’s hot.”

“Mhm,” Luke nodded, though it didn’t sound all that self-assured. 

“Remember, just like hockey. You practice and then you play. We’ve been doing the exact same.” And weirdly enough, your words were comforting. “Have some faith in yourself, Luke.” 

“Right. Just like hockey,” he murmured, glancing at the small distance between the two of you.

“Just like hockey,” you repeated with a small nod.

And, just like hockey, Luke let himself act before he over thought his actions too much. Hockey was about acting fast and thinking later. It was about acting on your instincts and trusting your teammate would be on the other side of the puck. It was about letting every move, every hit, every shot to be nothing but one hundred percent. It was about taking the chance before it was gone.

Luke took a step forward, closing the distance between you two as his hands reached to cup your face before he kissed you. You let out a noise of surprise that sounded from the back of your throat before you sunk into it, letting your hands rest against his stomach as he took control.

It was intoxicating, in a way you had never experienced with Luke before. Most of the time, he was happy to let you take control. He got this cute but hopeless look on his face when he didn’t know where to put his hands. He was happy to just sit back and let you tell him exactly just how you wanted to be touched, kissed, held. 

But this was different. It was overwhelming. It was suffocating in the best way possible. Feeling his body tower over you, feeling his large palms holding you just where he wanted you as his tongue slid into your mouth. Feeling the way Luke acted when he didn’t think, when he didn’t get in his own head, when he just let his body act the way it wanted to. 

You barely had a chance to catch your breath before his hands dropped from your face, fingers wrapping around your thighs with a stuttered ‘jump’ whispered against your lips before he lifted you with the ease only a professional athlete could achieve.

He barely pulled away as he walked deeper into your apartment, the layout practically memorised in his head considering the fact he spent just as much time here as he did in his own apartment. His arms were locked on you, not letting you slip a bit as he wandered into your bedroom, laying you down on the bed with a gentleness that made your stomach dip. 

“Show off,” you murmured as you glanced up at him, lip tucked between your teeth as your fingers brushed against the hem of his shirt.

He lazily grinned down at you. “I can be impressive sometimes.” 

“Yeah?” Your lips twitched upwards as you shuffled back until you were sat further up the bed. You reached for the hem of your hoodie, pulling it over your head and tossing the clothing off to the side. “Come show me how impressive you can be, Hughes.” 

He swallowed, eyes darting over your figure before he slowly began making his way onto the bed. “You’re sure?” 

“You were the one who came knocking on my door, saying you wanted to make me come,” you teased. 

“Yeah but,” Luke paused for a second as his gaze caught yours. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do it because I want to.” He flashed you an awkward but sweet smile. “Consent is sexy, you know?” 

You snorted, but you grinned back at him. “You have my consent to make me come, Luke.”

“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “I just…I want you to enjoy it but I don’t…”

“Breathe,” you murmured in a softer voice, reaching up to gently squeeze his cheeks to catch his attention. “I’m still here, you’re not doing this alone. Just like hockey, remember? Think of me as your teammate.”

His face instantly scrunched up. “I really don’t want to be thinking about any of my teammates right now.”

You snorted, despite yourself. 

“Yeah, okay, maybe not my finest choice of words. What I’m trying to say is that you’re not doing this alone. Sex is a ‘two way street’, ‘it takes two to tango’ kinda thing, Luke,” you spoke as you reached down to guide his hands to the waistband of your leggings. “We’re doing this together.” 

“Together,” he murmured with a nod.

“Just like hockey,” you said to him again, seeing a hint of his earlier confidence shine in his eyes as his fingers hooked the waistband of your leggings before pulling them down your legs. 

He tugged them over your feet before throwing them off to the side, where your hoodie still laid. He didn’t even hesitate before he ripped his own shirt off over his head, in some weird mixed statement so you weren’t the only one who was half-naked—and because he felt his whole body running far warmer than he thought was normal. 

“Foreplay is important. It’s like warm-ups, it’s necessary and preferred and makes the game easier, as well as more enjoyable,” you said, your voice a little lower than before as you gently guided one of his hands from your waist downwards. “It makes her feel good. It makes you feel good. It’s sexy.” 

“Sexy,” he noted with a nod, though his eyes were transfixed on you. 

Luke gulped a little as his fingers rested along the elastic waistband of your panties. His heart was racing in his chest and blood was roaring in his ears and it was a little hard to focus on the words you were saying when his dick was twitching in his sweatpants.

“Just gotta know where to touch her,” you whispered, lip tucked between your teeth as your fingers lightly skimmed over your clothed cunt. You choked out a gasp as you pressed a slow, deliberate circle over your clit. 

He didn’t think even a meteor crashing into your bedroom could make him tear his eyes away from you right now.

“Try.”

Luke’s brows raised a little as you stared at him expectantly. 

“C’mon, winner,” your lips twitched upwards. “Just like hockey.”

Just like hockey.

Luke slowly ran his hand over your waist, feeling the cotton fabric of your panties under his touch. He kept his eyes locked on your cunt, trying to ignore the way his hand was shaking as he ran his fingers along the fabric. 

A soft sigh left your lips and his eyes snapped up to look at your face, to watch your expressions closely to see what you reacted to. His thumb pressed down experimentally and your nose twitched a little.

“A little higher.”

He listened. 

“Firm but gentle.”

He listened.

“Fuck, just like that, Luke.” 

He listened.

“A little faster.” 

Luke listened. 

He listened as you guided him. He listened until there was a small wet spot on the front of your panties. He listened until you were panting and telling him to pull them down your legs. He listened as he gently glided his fingers between your folds, watching with dark eyes as his fingers glinted with your release. 

“I get it,” he muttered out at some point, his thumb pressing down on your swollen clit as your hips bucked up against his touch. “The noises. Why you like them.” He gulped a little as his eyes glanced up at you. “You sound pretty when you’re moaning, Cherry.”

“Shit,” your eyes fluttered shut as you reached down to grip his wrist. “Just…fuck, I need to feel you inside me.”

His cheeks burned hot. 

“Just,” you panted, chewing down on your bottom lip until it was red and a little swollen. “Slow, okay?”

He gulped. “You sure?” 

You huffed out a laugh. “You wanna make me come?”

He nodded.

“Then yeah, I’m sure,” you murmured, brows furrowed together as you felt him glide his fingers through your folds until they were completely covered. 

And, if Luke was being so completely honest, he could have come in his pants from the sight alone. It was like at the last possible moment, his brain remembered to look up as he slowly slide one finger inside you and, fuck, he was glad he did.

He felt entranced. He felt mesmerised. He felt like he was stuck in some sort of hypnosis and he couldn’t look away. 

He wanted to burn this moment in his memory so he could never, never forget it. He wanted to memorise the way your eyes fluttered shut. He wanted to memorise the way you felt squeezing around him, like you didn’t want him to ever leave. He wanted to memorise the way your lips parted with a silent scream as he slid another finger inside you, as he curled his fingers, as you bucked your hips. 

He wanted to remember every single fucking moment until the day he died.

“A little faster,” you breathed out, your head thrown back on your pillow as he followed your instructions. “Shit, yes. Like that. Fuck.”

“Good?” Luke murmured, his whole body feeling like it was on fire and his dick straining against his boxers but, fuck, he couldn’t care less when his attention was on you.

“Good,” you confirmed with a nod as one hand gripped the sheets, the other reaching down to give your clit some attention. “So good, Luke.” 

Something in his stomach flipped at your words. 

If someone asked Luke Hughes how the last forty-eight hours of his life had been, he would tell them it had been fucking amazing. 

And if they asked him what the best moment was, he should probably answer that he has too many to choose from. That maybe it was the fact he officially started his rookie year in the National Hockey League. That maybe it was the fact he won not one, but two NHL games. That maybe it was the fact they won them one after the other. That maybe it was the fact he did all of the above whilst sharing the ice with his big brother.

But, in all fucking honesty, Luke would have chosen this moment. 

He would have chosen the sight of you writhing and squirming beneath him. He would have chosen the sight of you panting and moaning and begging. He would have chosen the sight of you coming on his fingers, your back arching off the bed and his name a whimper on your lips. He would have chosen the sleepy smile you gave him as your body twitched as he pulled his fingers out, already missing the feeling of you clenched around him. He would have chosen the look of pure lust and desire in your eyes as you watched him slide his fingers in his mouth, his body moving before his brain caught up as he sucked the taste of you off his fingers. 

He would have chosen this moment. And maybe that realisation would be a lot more alarming and head-spinning in a couple of hours, but right now it was a passing thought before he slumped down on the bed next to you.

“Luke?” 

“Hm?” 

“You’re a good student,” you murmured, feeling a smile on your lips as he let out a small huff of laughter. “A little more practice and I think you could have a good business going for you if the hockey thing doesn’t work out.”

He shook his head. “I think my skating skills are still better than my sex skills, but the confidence you have in me is appreciated.”

“Hm, true,” you said as you nudged his arm, lifting it up before you curled into his side. Luke didn’t say anything but wrap his arm around you to pull you closer. “You do skate very fast.” 

“Those two videos really told you everything you needed to know, huh?” He teased, his words light-hearted and joking and warm. 

“No, the games you just played told me that,” you corrected.

Luke froze, his mind replaying the words in his head like he wasn’t sure he heard you right the first time. “You watched my games?”

“Yeah,” you answered like it was obvious. “You said they were the start of the important ones, the ones that counted. I mean, I didn’t understand half of it and I spent a significant amount confused but,” you paused to shrug. “I wanted to support you.”

His chest tightened and it was a little harder to breathe, but he didn’t really want to let you go just yet.

“You didn’t have to,” he eventually choked out.

“I wanted to,” you answered before continuing. “Who knows, maybe I’m your good luck charm.” 

He knew you were joking. He could hear as much in your voice. But it still made his heart clench a little at the thought.

“Guess you gotta watch every game then.” 

“Guess you gotta teach me the game so I understand it then.” 

His arm tightened around you, his face burned red and his heart skipped a beat or two. But he still managed to mutter out, “Deal, Cherry.”

.

[writingoddess1125]

hello!! ⭐, I saw that your order section was open and yesterday I read your story of buggy with the Roger effect and Jessica Rabit and I loved it, and I would like to know if you could do a one shot or something shorter if you prefer showing how they met and they decided to get married I love your stories and I think that, like your buggy, he is my favorite character. If you don't like this request or you think it's not good to do it, you can just ignore it, it won't be a bad thing 😸 thank you and have a good day!! 💗✨ (pd. English is not my first language so sorry if something is not written well😔)

Deal! I love this little idea

Buggy x FemReader

Small angst + Fluff

Heart on my Sleeve

Prequel Of Roger and Jessica Rabbit Effect

Wanna Buy me a Ko-Fi ☕️

• Your village was one of the poorest villages in the East Blue, the taxes from the World Goverment crippling your home to be a starving wasteland.

• Mainly to the wealthy Governor who lived above your town.

• You owned a fabric shop but the fabrics you owned were old and starting to rot from the lack of buissness. The moths having more use put of your fabrics then you did-

• The newest pirate on the scene Buggy the Clown shows up to your village ready to pillage it, in his early 20s with a fresh faced crew. However they did not expect the village to look worse then before they arrived.

• "I thought you said this place had money?" Buggy asked as he looked at the place. Lowering his blades as it looked like this place- it was in shambles. Like it had been pillaged to time then a pirate

• You had walked out of your shop, seeing if maybe the baker had just enough flour so you could feed yourself. Turning to see the group of pirates that seemed better off then you and your people.

• Buggy stared hard at you and matched forward, seeing that you were quite pretty in his eyes as he stood before you.

• "You! Tell me what the hell is wrong with this place! We heard it was rich here!" He said angrily, clearly upset at not getting to a small village that at least had a few Berries.

• You looked up at the pirate, noting the far too big of clothes for his frame and his painted face- Not liking he was putting such an unflattering green around his watercolor eyes. His face twisting up in anger as he caught you staring at his face.

• "What are you staring at!? You looking at my nose!" He yelled angrily, his fingers going to the inner part of your coat where you assumed some weapon would be.

• "No your shirts too big for your frame and that shade of green doesn't compliment your eyes well" You said truthfully, At this point a knife or bullet being a kinder death then starving anyway-

•"U-Uh- What?" He said confused, Unsure how to answer. You reaching forward and putting your arms around his frame to pull back the shirt. Taking a pin from your pocket and pinning the shirt back so it fit properly.

• "See- Your shirt is too big. It looks better fitted like that" You pointed out, His faze looking down at the pinned back shirt. His face red at how close you got to him, or that you'd touched him at all.

• "As for money we have non. The governor has the taxes so hide no one here can even feed themselves" You said truthfully, The young clown blinking at you in surprise.

• "Er- Y-Youre making fun of me somehow right? Like my Nose" He tried to yell again grabbing the front of your dirty shirt- clearly not used to someone trying to give him kind useful advice without some sort of motive.

• "I would never make fun of your nose, it looks fine to me anyways" You snap back and slap his hand away calmly. He blinked at you surprised and released your hand- His eyes going up the hill of the village and seeing the grand governors house hidden in some trees.

• He huffed and shoved you hard, you falling into the mud as him and his crew marched past up to the Governors home.

• However what did surprise you was the next Morning the Captian and his Crew stood in the village square and announced he now owned the village. Saying he was Buggy the Clown- and that he was now in charge.

• Before starting to hand out some stolen treasure??? Giving some supplies he had 'liberated' from the Governors house.

• You also noticed how his eyes lingered on you as he did this.

• It had been a few months like this, he would stop by randomly pay for the village. He wasn't taking taxes but instead paying things- it was improving greatly, the cracks of the pavements on the streets getting repaired, new paint on the building and new businesses flourishing-

• But you noticed how he would pay extra attention to your shop- Getting all his things from you. How you got extra rolls of fabric delivered to your door or how he would pay for all these extra accessories to his costumes.

• "You seamstress I want another coat!" He yelled as he invaded your shop.

• Buggy was there again, asking for another ridiculous costume. You couldn't help but notice how often he was coming by- claiming he wanted new costumes by you and wanting to be measured everytime he came in.

• How he would blush when you measured around his chest. "You know, I noticed you always come through here and stop specifically at my shop for new outfits when you wear the same coat" You tease, watching him blush at you pointing this out.

• "So what!" He yelled out, his face as red as a cherry. You look at him and raise a brow at him, Not even having to say a word as Buggy deflated.

• "...I uh wanted to take you on a date" He grumbled, finally admitting what his plans were. You smiled at this, Setting the tape aside.

• "Now please do tell me, Why should I accept your offer for someone who not only yelled in my face but pushed me in mud-" You point out, even though you knew he most likely made up for it by him saving your village.

• "..I am sorry about that.." He forced out, you could tell he wasn't used to apologizing and was trying his hardest.

• "I forgive you, But that doesn't mean I'll forget" You say calmly. Smiling softly as you saw him looking ready to flip put at the rejection but you held a hand to him-

• "I know- So why don't we make a deal. Since I can tell you're really sorry why don't we agree to dinner and go from there? Its not a date per say but its a start" You said with a smile, his eyes lit up at hearing this at the prospect of getting to win you over.

• "Really!?" He says excitedly, Jumping up and down like a school boy as he blushed and giggled into his gloved hands like a kid. You couldn't help but find it adorable-

• For the next year Buggy would send gifts, love letters, help rebuild the village. Do everything to get in your good graces and ask for a official date every time he visited.

• Buggy would essentially own the Village at the point, 30% of his money went to the village to get it on its feet and keep it a small strip of paradise the very limited taxes he implimented later affer the village was florishing acted as a small form of secondary income. Mainly making sure people knew the place was protected by him as his reputation grew through time.

• Him even showing his unique Devil fruit abilties- Which you often abused for him to float up and grab the more expensive rolls of fabric or hang up finished cloths.

• The village also being a popular tourist destination for the friendly locals and nice scenery. So for Buggy it was worth the investment since originally put in.

• After that 'probation' year you would finally agree to officially date him and he was over the damn moon.

• While he would be secretive about you, his love language was strong. He is both physically and verbally affectionate- While he still throws his fits you know how to handle him well. Loving him both for his strengths and flaws.

• It would be 1 years of dating before Buggy would start planning how to pop the question.

- You were closing up shop for the day, humming along to a made up tune when you heard the back door of your shop being unlocked. You didn't have to look to know who it was, only one other person had the key to it.

"Hey Buggy Boo" You call out, smiling as you heard Buggy grumble and peel off his boots to leave them by the front door.

"That is still such a bad nickname" He grumbled before walking behind you and kissing your cheek and wrapping his arms around you. He smelled like the sea, clearly having just gotten off his shop to visit you. He had been taking more time out to see, wanting to get his bounty higher. Currently proud of his 5,000,000 berry bounty which for a early 20s pirate was fairly good he claimed.

"Ah you love it" You giggle which earned a adorable chuckle from the man.

"You know (Y/N)- I uh really like you and Want to spend my.."

"So I wanted us to have dinner tonight- I know you like that place down the street and want us to go there" He said, his voice very soft- Much softer then normal.

Smiling you turn around and kiss him on the lips.

"I'd love to" You say cheerfully, earning a crooked smile from him as he held you close.

As promised, that night Buggy took you to your favorite restaurant. Having gotten a private table in the back, you two spending hours just talking and sharing a meal together.

Buggy even pulling out a box of your favorite candies he had gotten out from his last adventure.

After dinner he lead you away to the more scenic parts of your Village a small meadow pass that had the most beautiful blue and white flowers, under the moonlight it looked so magical. You saw Buggy reach in his pockets and turn to face you, nervousness painted on his face as he shuffled his feet. Clearly prepared to get on one knee-

"You stole my Thunder!!" He cried in faux anger, you laughing hard as he ranted about how you knew so quickly, happy tears running down your cheeks as you smiled and his face turned deep red.

"Yes I will!" You said with a wide smile, your excitement getting the best of you as you slapped your hands over your own mouth. His jaw dropping in shock.

"I've been planning this for 4 months!!" He whined, face so red his nose was glowing as he stared at you.

"Im so sorry Baby, You just- You talk in your sleep my Love." You reveal with a smile, His face twisting up as he realized you'd known the whole time and let him try to have his moment anyway. You had just got too excited and answering too quickly-

As this sunk in he smiled widely and started to laugh, he couldn't help it! You were just too perfect for him! Despite everything you still let him have the spotlight. He kissed your lips eagerly and held you close, rocking the two of you side to side in pure joy.

"I.. I love you (Y/N)..So much- I cant wait for you to be my wife.." He said as he pressed his face into your neck- You could feel the warmth of tears hitting your skin exposed. Your arms wrapped tightly around him as you hug him close and cried against him in joy.

Pulling the both of you to the ground with a loud laugh as you two laid in the flowers- Laughs leaving you both as tears stilled from both of your eyes.

"I love you too Buggy Boo"

[h5eavenly]

blank canvas — park sunghoon. ➢ one - run your hands over me. ➢ mlist.

— when black and white sorrows loom on your life park sunghoon - a man with a cruel heart and destructive hands manages to color your days with splashes of rainbow. at least at first. wc: 17k

'They say there are two types of people in this world. The type to have big dreams, ambition. Ego so high up enough to touch the clouds but they lack potential. They think of themselves higher than they actually are. Then there's the second type of people. The ones with potential to rule the world. Get anything they can but they lack the desire, the drive–'

You feel a tap on your shoulder purloining your attention away from the broadcast reverberating through your ears, you take one of your earbuds out. Facing the person who just touched you. It’s an old lady, with thinning gray and a freight of years upon years accumulating in the wrinkles gracing her face.

“Oh my!” she speaks with as much enthusiasm as age in her face “you’re absolutely beautiful sweetheart!” adulation flow from between her lips as easy as the droplets of rain falling from the sky, it has your cheeks marring in red with embarrassment.

“Thank you.” you reply, tone laced with transparent diffidence, enough for her palm to cup your cheek in mystifying warmth. It’s in the heat radiating off her hand, in contrast with the freezing weather.

Adoration colors her gaze as if you were truly the most appealing looking person she had to pleasure to witness in a while, and you could only duck your head in bashfulness. Burying it in the heat of your scarf as she coos over you.

"Ah!" The old lady speaks up, eyes widening as she brings her palm to her lips as if she just remembered what she came here to say in the first place "I think you missed the last bus already." A frown climbs its way up over features, taking over the redness adorning your cheeks and the tip of your nose as you check your phone for the time.

4:35 pm

31st December

"It's not even 6 yet." You mutter. More to yourself but she catches it "I guess they're cutting them short because of the rain." You make a sound of comprehension. Eyes fliting to the graying skies, it has been raining heavily for the last two hours and you have been so immersed in your broadcast, you only realize now that you’ve been waiting at the bus ride for close to thirty minutes. The old lady leaves you with a smile sent your way, doused in affability akin to the truant sun. As you put your earbuds back on, you suck in a deep breath.

Inculcating yourself for what’s about to come, using your bag as leverage to shield yourself from the rain, you hold it above your head as you start running out of the bus stop.

'– But you know? There is a third type of people. That is hidden. Vaguely, we know of them. We know they exist but we're hardly aware of them. Even though they're the most destructive. Those type of people that take everything they want in sight, it doesn’t matter if they worked hard for it. If they had potential, if they thought lowly or highly of themselves. They consume everything they get their hands on. Even humans–'

You huff with overflowing exasperation, turning off the dumb podcast and shoving your phone in your pocket. Your attempts at being productive and listening to something that could feed your soul have failed miserably by now. More so it doesn't seem like you'll be able to get to work in this kind of weather. You blame it on the fact that you don’t own a tv - Or truthfully you own one. It's an old rusty thing that you stole from your grandma's house before moving. It barely works so how were you supposed to know such cruel weather was waiting to unfold?

Or at least those are the excuses you feed your brain as you stumble in the closest building that comes to view, droplets of water trickle down the side of your face as you look around. Turns out bags does little to zero coverage from rain.

With another look around, you realize you had walked into an old museum, with the rain remaining unforgiving with the way it pours you decide to take a stroll around the neglected building. Barely hanging on by the few devoted people who probably deemed this place cozy enough to call it comfort. pausing for no longer than a minute on some of the gold and silver artifacts probably turned in by struggling artists. There’s a layer of dust collecting on some of the pieces, albeit your lack of understanding for art - the closest you’ve been to art was when in elementary school, drawing with crayons and showing it to your parents. Seeking praises, you never actually got- the sight of abandonment sheathing this place throws you into commiseration for it.

You would have believed this museum was forsaken if not for the employee chewing his gum in the corner and scrolling through his phone mindlessly.

You amble your way through a couple of paintings, pausing by a few to scour through your brain for your own elucidation that is probably nowhere near what it means. You linger by one that seems to seize your fascination for longer than the preceding ones.

Your eyes flicked across it, it was a painting of a woman’s naked body that’s facing away, with deeper and lighter hues of flesh, her face was ablaze with shades of flames. For a quaint reason it stirs a sense of disturbance within you. holding your gaze captive in an unsettling matter yet you can’t pinpoint why.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" An audible gasp slips past your lips, snapping you out of a daze and has you jolting in surprise.

Your eyes shift, flitting to whoever spoke to you and in mere moments you’re rendered mute. Every single word flees your mind leaving it blank. As you behold the embodiment of the snow on a human’s skin, the darkness of the night in his hair every single piece of art in this building dims in comparison.

You marvel at a beauty that feels so implausible to belong to a mortal.

“I wouldn’t know.” You clear your throat.

The stranger – clad in everything black from head to toe with faultlessly styled hair only tilts his head at you, something parallel to curiosity flourishes in his eyes, taking a few steps to close the distance between you two.

“How come?” His voice is low, like the feeling of a cool breeze dawdling past you amidst summer. His words dripping with softness, akin to the scent invading your space. Something heady and sweet yet you can’t seem to put your finger on what does he exactly smell like.

“I don’t understand art enough to appraisal it.” You reply, your eyes shifting back to the painting.

“Who says you need to understand art to form an opinion on it?” He asks and you swallow around nothing, eyes fleeting to his- they’re almost as dark as his hair- for a second only to find him already staring at you. The right side of your face burns with his intensity.

“I just think it’s a little ridiculous for someone ignorant like me to say anything about someone’s hard work.”

“But we all view things differently, no? We all have our different version of the world. It doesn’t take away from anyone’s hard work.” He responds and surely it is more than enough for you to consider his words, finding candour in them. You eye the painting meticulously.

“I think it’s sad.” You say after a while, slicing into the thick silence and from the corner of your eye, you see him turning to face the piece of art as well.

“Why do you think so?”

“It almost as if your thoughts are too overbearing to the point where they take over you. and then before you realize it you lost sight of yourself.”

An eerie silence fills the space between you, it stretches long enough to have you growing unnerved. You wonder if your thoughts are comical to voice. Maybe you just embarrassed yourself in front of the prettiest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Stealing a glance at him only to find his gaze already set on you yet again, the same sense of disturbance crawls over you once again, your heart starts beating rapidly.

“That’s interesting.”

“You don’t think it’s stupid?” You breathe out and his brows raise slightly upwards in what seems to be astonishment, it is the first display of emotions he unveils.

“Your words? Not at all.”

“Even though you found it beautiful and yet I can’t seem to find the same beauty in it?”

There’s a pause in the space between you two, his eyes prance over your features, and you fall into the same confusing haze as to why your heart starts picking up speed, as if tranced you cannot seem to look away from him. Your cheeks glow pink under the deliberation of his stare.

“We all have different versions of the world. It’s only fair we find beauty in contradictory aspects.”

You fail to find words to push out, stumbling into another silence. You find enough blame to place on the way he makes you feel, somehow you don’t feel the apprehensiveness that usually comes upon meeting strangers for the first time, instead it feels like finally stumbling upon a piece of paper you have lost track of a long time ago.

It’s uncanny, you and his harrowing glances that cut through you as if he knows the contents of your mind, as if he sees you.

“Do you think you’re beautiful?” he asks and you almost scoff at how ludicrous his question is, looking at him only to realize the seriousness clinging to his features. Pushing you further into confusion.

“I’m not sure what I think.” You say, softly. and his lips tilt upwards with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“How peculiar.” You don’t get to ask him what he means before he’s speaking again “You’re prettier than any of the paintings hanged on these walls.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart beats as if a hundred birds are trapped inside and they’re dying to be set free. Woven with unfathomable desolation.

You have always lacked resilience, a few words of adulation are more than enough to have you melting, there’s ample room in your heart to take claim over the sweet words, for your eyes to soften.

Yet you deem yourself demented with groundless thoughts provoked by him.

Your encounter with the man lingers in your head yet more than anything his eyes stay with you the longest.

They looked so empty.

"Good evening sweetheart." the sweet tone of none other than Yang Taeyeon rings in your ears and through the small store with familiarity, forcing a smile upon your face that was inundated with fatigue mere moments ago.

 A mother with two children who has been coming to this small store ever since you could remember. A week doesn't pass without her stopping by. Sometimes to buy bandages for her acholic husband who loves getting into fights. Other times she's buying necessities with the little money she could keep from her three jobs. Her life is another sorrowful story that’s twined into the streets of this neighborhood.

"Hello, how are you doing today?" you ask, tone gentle and polite as you help her empty her basket.

"I'm good darling. How have you been? You're looking a little pale." She responds, eyes etched with worry as they rack over your face.

Worry. It’s an emotion you’re so accustomed to getting by now. However, with her It's more than just petty wrapped with worry. She’s the third person to have told you today and your smile only ceases to flatter for a moment.

Truth is sleep hasn’t found home in you for a couple of days now. It’s a proclaimed miracle If you manage to get three hours of sleep that isn’t disturbed by unsettling nightmares. You’d like to blame that damned painting. It only started after your visit to that shitty museum.

You start scanning her things from canned beans to random bags of chips that are probably for her kids, you try to make it quick guessing she's probably rushing somewhere after this. It's how she always is.

"Yes, I've been very we–" you’re cut off by her worn out hand circling your wrist stopping your movement and when you look at her, questioning. She wears a deeper distressed expression.

"Oh my. You have grown so weak. Have you been eating, at all?" This time your smile crumbles, and you don’t react fast enough to keep it.

"I am very healthy don't worry. Exams season just ended so perhaps that's why." You reply with practiced excuses flying your mouth, you hope it’s big enough of a barrier for her not to notice the trembling of your lips.

Freeing your hand gently from her grip and resuming your work, you hope she doesn’t notice the pitiable fragility of a human that still coats you, your words are always colored in loneliness and an imbecilic need for someone to ask, to care. You miss the way her eyes linger on you in exactly that.

"You can have this." She tells you after you helped her put all her groceries into bags. Extending her hand out to you with a homemade sandwich in it. A warm smile sent your way is enough to have you vacillating.

Wondering how she manages to stay as warm as summer despite the number of betrayals she has been through, pain cladding every atom of her being and yet she manages to still be so kind. Alongside your perplexity, an odious feeling of envy blooms within you.

How lucky her children are. To have such a warm-hearted mother.

"I'm fine," you wave your hand dismissively "Please do not worry yourself-" you don’t even get to finish before Taeyeon is shoving the sandwich into your palms. Refusing to take no as answer.

"Thank you for everything, sweetheart." With another warm smile, she packs her four bags of groceries and leaves.

Perhaps you’ve had a rough week, the walls of your apartment have added a magnitude weight to your already dreadful despondency, as you stare down at the sandwich in your hands an uncanny urge clamber over you. To get out of here. To quit this stupid job, quit school. You were never lucky, but if you could get away, somewhere far away or maybe not even that far.

Maybe you could stop by the sea and cry your eyes out for a while. Spill your agony to the waves and abandon all your burdens into the unknown.

And maybe then just then you could be reborn as a different person. Was it a foolish yearning to have? To be someone else, someone who’s not this being seared with indelible scars?

Your questions, as always, stay unanswered as you pack the sandwich away and continue going through the dreadful hours of your shift.

It's when the clocks hit 10:30 pm that your stomach starts rumbling in hunger. A light humming noise fills the store as you plopped your sandwich into the microwave. Your fingers drumming against the counter as you look out the glass. Your eyes dance across the empty streets. It’s usually super slow at this time of the night, the store empty of customers and darkness fills the neighborhood. Streetlights flickering on and off, remaining brushed aside, not worthy enough to be fixed.

On

Off

On

Off

On.

A figure materializes on the sidewalk, as if they emerged from utter nothingness or magically brought forth from darkness, blending in with the night clad in black from head to toe. The drumming of your hand pauses, you can barely see anything from the distance, yet a daunting emotion slithers down your spine, evoking a shiver from you as if the person is looking straight at you.

You wait, brows furrowing together as unspecified anxiety manifests within you, working at a small convince store in one of the most impoverished neighborhoods in the city have made you tolerant of such disquiet. So, waiting for danger to unravel is more of a habit now. It’s only natural that you linger with unwavering gaze on the figure, with hope for them to do anything and help deny the looming thoughts that they're looking at you.

Beep Beep Beep!

Your body jolts in surprise, hand shooting to your heart in panic to calm the increasing speed, you turn to face the microwave.

 'I'm imagining things' you keep repeating to yourself.

The sandwich is still semi cold, so you start the microwave again giving it another ten more seconds.

The figure across the street has not moved an inch when you turn to face them once again. Telling yourself you’re being paranoid. That the enervation of the week is probably catching up to you, alongside your cruel nightmares, it’s added fuel to your anxiety. So, you try to ignore it, trying your best to act normally. Chewing on your sandwich once it’s done, forcing your eyes to focus on the screen small tv hung up in the corner, trying to find your interest in the news despite your mind protesting.

in a somber irony the news are talking about two gruesome crimes that the police believe are linked together, with anarchic deliberation you manage to catch a couple of things that are being said, something about dismembering body parts. With a swallow you turn the tv off with too much of a force.

Instinctively your eyes travel back to the sidewalk, the light flickers on to life and the figure is still there. A chill has the hairs on your arms arising, somehow the panic in you is amplified sending your fingers into a tremble. Your eyes flit to the clock hang on the wall for a second, it’s five more minutes until your shift ends and this person won’t move.

You grow agitated, chewing on your nails as you look back at the figure. And you watch, from a distance as they slowly raise their hand, your heart hammers against your chest, crippling anxiety taking over you when the person holds their palm up and then, they wave. Tilting their head to the side.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, legs shaking with actual fear at the realization that you were not imagining things. They were looking at you all along and now they’re fucking waving at you.

Oh my god they’re waving at you.

Amidst your raising perturbation, you grasp that you need to do something. You don’t feel safe and calling the police is the first option that comes to mind but what would you even say? There’s a weird person waving at me from across the street? And knowing the time that they would take to come to such a disreputable neighborhood? You’d be dead by then.

Maybe you should call someone. One of your friends? Someone can come and pick you up. But what if they take too long? The what ifs are almost endless as they come to your mind like crashing waves. You’re fully panicked now, chewing on your nails ferociously.

You look back at the figure, gaze hardened into a glare despite your petrified state. In your mind it might be enough to scare them away. A big truck passes by, beeping its horn and blocking your vision from the sidewalk. You wait for it to pass, as soon as the street comes back in view it's empty. The figure is nowhere to be seen. It's like they disappeared with the truck or with the wind. You blink multiple times, as if your mind had started playing tricks on you and yet the streets remains empty.

What the fuck

With shaky legs you grab the bat the store owner had placed for you -just in case things got rough one day- he had told you.

You walk out of the store, crossing the street with a jog, right to where the person was standing. The streetlight flickers for a split second on and off. Only enough for you to notice the small pool of liquid on the ground but it's too dark to tell exactly what it is. You squat down, placing the bat next to your feet. With furrowed brows your curiosity drives you to touch it with your finger. Bringing it to your nose, you grimace at the strong smell of metal.

A whirlwind of images flashes in your mind at an agonizingly familiar scent.

The light flickers back on and your eyes widen. Your stomach starts turning and turning in nausea, you feel the sandwich you just had come up. Bringing your palm right upon your mouth with a wrinkled nose, you attempt to push the feeling away. But your body shakes violently and you’re about to throw up.

It was blood.

You are panting, tears cling to your eyelashes in plaintive attempts to keep pieces of you together. As if you���re gonna end up falling apart if just one slips. You’re leaning your head against the wall, the cold bathroom floor makes your body shake, or perhaps it's because you just threw up violently not even two minutes ago. Your stomach aches in horrible pain, throat dry.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and trying to simmer down your shaking. before reaching in your pocket for your phone. Scrolling through your contacts you stop at the name you were looking for. Immediately pressing the call button, you wait.

"yn?" His voice comes like waves of comfort washing over your body. For a mere moment, you’re okay. Breath’s steadier, they flow through your body easier now.

 "Jaeyun," your voice is groggy, a giveaway of your distress that you cannot be witnessed with. Clearing your throat, you attempt to speak again "Can you p-please pick me up? I just finished work-"

you hear shuffling on other line, the sound of sheets being tossed like he's getting out of bed and culpability stirs within you. Knowing he was probably sleeping, and your call had woken him up.

"Are you okay?" He asks, voice heavy with sleep and you suck a deep breath in. contemplating on how to exactly answer him. Jaeyun was one of the few people you never seem to hide from. The truth spills from your mouth involuntarily.

"I'm okay," you attempt to reassure him "B-but please can you pick me up?" you ask, tone low with heedless reluctance.

You hear more shuffling on the other line, the sound of Jaeyun getting dressed and your heart is cradled with warmth at his unyielding care. With no questions directed at the obvious shakiness in your voice.

“I’m on the way yn, alright?” your tears come back faster than you anticipated, it has you biting on your quivering lower lip “alright? Need to hear you say it yn.” he asks again, and you nod your head ceaselessly.

“Okay.”

As soon as Jaeyun hangs up, you pull your knees to your chest and bury your head in them. Your shoulders hang heavy, as if the freight of the world’s anguishes deliquesces upon your flesh, encumbers them. Your stomach is constricting with pain and the same sickening nausea is building again. You can still smell the blood in your nose, as if you’re drenched in maroon.

The scent always sends you back to the same place, a reoccurring purgatory, where you’re sitting with your head in your knees just like right now. You’re covered in bruises and blood and the very same irritable nausea is evident there too. You’re too feeble, covered in mistakes and the indignation of your parents. Their arguing is a dull noise in the background, tear streaks are an eternal trace upon your cheeks.

You’re reprimanding yourself because you need to patch yourself up, you need to grow up. stop being such a spoiled kid. Just like how your mother always told you. And you try to listen. To obey, you try so hard to be good, you want to be good.

But the smell of metal is unbearable. As if it’s seared on your being, as if it’s a layer of your skin and no matter how many times you wash up, it’s burned into you.

You feel the cut on your knee bleeding, the liquid trickling down your leg.

Blue

Violet

Red

It’s all an interchangeable loop that you cannot seem to break free from, a curse that has been set on you the day you took your first breath in. torment runs through your veins and you’re nothing but a slave with an open chest. Accepting your fate is the only way. It’s in the way it all makes itself known to you, the option of running away, breaking free slips further away with your multiplying tears. It’s in the violent shudders wracking your body as you empty your stomach for the second time.

You sit on the floor of your parents’ dirty old bathroom floor, crying with crippling affliction and bleeding out with declaration of their callousness.

Nothing has seemed to change. Life always finds a way to cackle sardonically at you. You’re an adult now. Nowhere near your parents so how come you keep feeling like you never stepped foot outside that bathroom? How come every waking moment is haunted by the ghosts of your past. They’re vicious, with claws around your throat. The poison had long seeped in.

You cannot escape.

"Yn!" With that familiar voice you’re snapped back to your reality.

You look at the floor beneath you. And it’s dirty- disgusting really but it’s not your parents’ bathroom floor. There are no loud voices or shouting and yelling. There's just the sound of the sink running and It's just you.

You’re not hurt. You’re not a kid.

You make an attempt to stand up. Your body is still feeling a little weak and sluggish. Using the wall to support your weight, you take small steps towards the sink and close the running water. You hear footsteps growing closer and closer. But at this moment in time, you are not panicked. Instead, relief washes over you when the door opens and it's Jaeyun.

With eyes colored in concern he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

“yn,” he breathes out and you hug him back.

"I'm okay, Jae." You assure despite how your words flow out weak and choppy. Jaeyun squeezes you in his arms tighter.

Almost like you’ve been lost for years, and you’re finally found. You feel the same in a way.

When he pulls back his palms cradle your face gently, eyes darting over your figure in a rapid search for visible wounds and when he doesn’t find any, his brows furrow in confusion. You wonder what kind of panic you caused him.

"What happened?” he asks.

"Nothing." You answer, averting your eyes. afraid they will betray your wounds, display that your scars remain on your soul rather than your body.

Jaeyun doesn’t pressure you or ask you for anything further. With a tender smile he nods, because he always knows.

He helps you out the bathroom, hand on your waist in all too similar sentiment. And as he helps you collect your stuff, even closes the store for you, you find yourself being lulled into a comfort that only radiates from him. A too striking familiar of a scene as he helps you into his car, helping you put your seatbelt on with gentle touches, tender glances at your face.

It's all too sweet, a too striking familiar scene of what you guys once had. When you were his and he belonged to you. The world had stilled for a short while. The loop of agony paused, tricking you into a joy that was never meant to last. Because everything that ever belonged to you was only meant to fall apart, you were never foreordained to be a survivor.

You collapse each time, left behind to pick up the fragments of you. Always abandoned.

The drive to your apartment is silent, albeit Jaeyun glances being thrown at you occasionally, you keep yours stuck on the window. Watching as the world passes you by.

"We're here." he declares, coming to a stop in front of your apartment complex. You let out a breath.

"Thank you." you reply, looking at him with a forced practiced smile.

His eyebrows furrow and your smile only stretches wider, futile tries to hide.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" He asks with concern laced in his voice that you turn a blind eye to. You’re starting to feel choked up with the storm of emotions you went through tonight and right now you want nothing but to go inside your apartment, maybe have a good cry then sleep it all away.

"Yes."

You watch with confusion as he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, inching closer to you. Inadvertently you lean back, your back hits the door and when his hand finds your thigh, he squeezes, your body trembles with a slight jump.

“Sorry.” He mummers awkwardly, taking his hand off.

"It's okay. I'm just shaking because it's probably cold outside." You say softly. And his eyes find yours with evident brittle emotions swimming in them.

"yn." He calls for you like he used to. With a voice as sweet as honey and deeper than oceans. You’re taken aback to when there was a sparkle between you, before he burned you with it.

Your eyes fall shut and this time his hand finds your cheek with a caress, you let him. Your heart doesn’t skip beats the same way it used to, in an ironic way it’s only a reminder of the ashes left between you two. You feel his breath hit your face, and when you open your eyes, he’s so close, your melancholy is tempting you to give in.

"What are you doing?" you whisper, shaking your head. He ignores you, his other hand sneaking to your waist and you attempt to back away even more in the cramped space.

"We can't do this Jaeyun." You stop him with a hand to his chest, his heartbeat reverberates against your palm.

"Why not? I still want you." His confidence makes you waver. The ache in your chest tells you it will only ever be soothed by the touch of his lips, yet you find yourself unable to give in, avoiding his gaze as your eyes fall upon your lap. An unwieldy silence swirls in the air yet again. He takes it as sign to back off, his hands leaving your body alongside his warmth.

"Why did you call me?" He asks after a while "Why did you call me out of all the people you know?" You know exactly which answer he's looking for and if you were somewhere else. Somewhere where you felt like you could belong to him. Like he could heal all the wounds you believed he would maybe you would have been able to give it to him.

"Because you're the only one who knows about my panic attacks."

He lets out a sound of disbelief, his face crumbling with disillusionment. And when he falls back in his seat with nothing to say, you unbuckle your seat and get out of the car.

"Thank you and goodnight." you say closing the door hoping he had heard you and the wind did not steal your words.

12:45am                                                                                                               7th of January

your phone stared back at you in full brightness. In contrast with the dim lights flashing across your features. Purple, dark green and blue.

There's a light buzz in your system, evoked by the few glasses of alcohol you had been sipping on throughout the night. A thin layer of sweat covers your forehead despite how cold it is outside. The remaining liquor in your cup is tempting you.

Sunoo’s head is on your shoulder, adding unwanted weight to your body "He’s not eben hat hot, ight?" his words slur together, meshing into somewhat a coherent sentence that he whines out. You follow his gaze that of course lands on none other than Minji, her body swaying to the music with some guy that you recognize from one of your classes. Her arms circle his neck, a huge smile on her face the darker her eyes get with overflowing lust.

Even from this distance you could see it all. Sunoo clings to you further, leg thrown over your lap, almost engulfing your body entirely. His breath reeks of cheap vodka when another whine escapes him.

"yn, 'm hotter yea?"

You hastily drink the very little liquor left in your cup.

"You're so much hotter babe." Sunoo hums happily at your answer, closing his eyes as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

You could only exhale loudly, starting to feel a little choked up with this proximity. You’re not drunk enough to be dealing with this cat and mouse game Sunoo and Minji like to play. you haven’t been present enough mentally this semester to see it all unfold. you just know that somewhere between the first and the second week Heeseung had found you during lunch, mouth agape as he whispered in disbelief;

"Did you know Sunoo and Minji fucked?"

All hell broke loose since that day. Sunoo who's hopelessly in love and Minji who won't commit or be tied down by anyone. It's a classic tale really, a chess game that you had participated in before. It isn't hard to tell who's gonna win, there's no competition here. You just wish Sunoo would realize that too.

"You okay?" Heeseung all but yells at you, loud enough to hear him over the roaring music as he plops down on the couch next to you. His hand brushes your fringe out your face and away from your sweaty forehead.

"Uh huh," Heeseung isn't looking at you though, eyes glued to the awkward girl standing by the stairs. Fidgeting with the red cup between her hands, looking around in what seem to be anxiety. She looks innocent, a lost look in her eyes that gives away the fact that she's a freshman.

She's Heeseung's favorite type of preys.

"Good, good." He says absentmindedly, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes rake over the girl's body. His hand travels from your hair to the back of your neck, squeezing. 

You roll your eyes, already knowing what’s about to come, witnessed the words tumble out his lips repeatedly.

"I'm gonna go get some ass, yn" He decides loudly. Taking what's left from Sunno’s drink and chugs it down. He then gets up, rolling his shoulders and with confident strides makes his way to the girl. You watch as Heeseung puts on his usual charming smile, all warm and inviting. A blush dark enough to be seen by you on the girl's cheek as they start chatting.

You grow a little miffed. Feeling like you’ve been ditched by all your friends and left to deal with a very drunk Sunoo. This was definitely not what you had in mind when you agreed to come to this party. You untangle yourself from Sunoo with force, the older all but whines refusing to let go.

“I’m just gonna go get a drink,” you tell him and he only whines in response, not a word was probably registered.

You stumble, feet almost interlocking but you manage to stand straight. Your own blushed cheeks are evidence of your tipsiness. Not drunkenness. You’re not there yet. You feel like you’re swimming through a sea of people as you push between them, your knit white sweater gets stuck in someone's bracelet. A string of apologies spills from your mouth. It’s the only few mishaps that manage to unfold before your night passes by with you drowning yourself in liquor.

It's only a few hours later that feels closer to years have passed by. You find yourself in one of the few open rundown 7/11 with Heeseung and a sobered-up Sunoo slurping spicy noodles. Your mind a little less cloudless, limbs aching as you stand up.

“I’m gonna get some air.” You tell your friends, stretching your arms above your head. Sunoo only makes a noise of acknowledgement with his mouth full.

“Don’t walk too far.” Heeseung tells you, eyes lingering on the back of your head as you wave your hand at him.

The frigid air hits you square in the face as you pull your jacket around you tighter, wrapping your arms around yourself in search of warmth. the cheap fabric fails to provide such. 

Keeping Heeseung’s words in mind, you don’t walk too far from the store, finding a bench close by that you settle upon with a sigh. Closing your eyes and breathing in fresh air. Your head grows a tad clearer. A comforting buzz settles in your being instead and despite the dull ache in your body, you feel okay.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?” your eyes fall open, flitting to the source of the voice. It’s a middle-aged man so clearly high off his mind. A familiar sight in these streets.

You ignore him, too used to such situations.

“Didn’t your parents tell you it’s rude to ignore people?” When he speaks this time you glare at him, a scowl taking place upon your face.

“Fuck off old man.” You spit, tone imbued with indignation despite the tremble manifesting in your clenched fingers, nails digging into the insides of your palms.

“Watch your mouth bitch.” The man all but grunts, taking a step towards you, you brace yourself to run, your muscles growing rigid. Your palms are growing sweaty.

Just as the man takes another step towards you, you feel a presence behind you, the man’s eyes darting elsewhere.

“She told you to fuck off. Are you fucking deaf?” the voice is overfamiliar. Velvety smooth as it rings in your ears, evoking beats from your heart this time not out of perturbation. It’s something closer to exhilaration.

The man grumbles, a frown on his aged-up face as he glares at you then turns around and walks the other way. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your shoulders going lax as you turn your head, a familiar face of a stranger comes into view.

White as snow, dark as night and that same dizzying scent. heady and sweet.

It’s the same face that has haunted your mind longer than you’d ever admit, taking space you weren’t aware you’re willing to give. His eyes are hardened into a glare, glued to the back of the man’s head until he’s far enough to not be seen that they flit to you.

Just like the first time you saw him he’s clad in everything black, yet this time instead of formal attire it’s a hoodie and black jeans. Clear glasses on his face yet he remains prettier than any magnificent piece of art you had the pleasure to witness.

The way his gaze palliates instantly has your chest tightening, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as a wind passes you by, somehow drowning you deeper into his intoxicating aroma.

“Are you okay?” His tone is so much softer, tender compared to the way he spoke mere seconds ago.

“Y-Yes. Thank you.” your words come out ignominiously scattered, tinted by your clear nerves that you cover up with a flimsy excuse, alcohol.

“You shouldn’t be alone this late at night. It’s dangerous, pretty girl.” He reprimands genially and your face burns, at the endearment, at his tone and more than anything at the tilt of his lip. A charming smile taking place onto his face, in contrary to how he was willing to shoot the man with his eyes not even minutes ago.

“I’m not alone. I’m waiting for my friends.” You lie, for unidentified incentives that you don’t even want to think about. It’s all deemed worthy when he tilts his head at you with a hum. A glint in his eyes and you’re overtaken by peculiar emotions. Rushing through you all the same as your last meeting.

“Shall I wait with you then?” he says, walking till he’s next to you, and you try hard not to stare at him, but it is reckoned unfeasible when he is so implausibly gorgeous.

You will enough strength to not to think about the way his necklace dangles when he leans down to take a seat next to you. Try hard not to imagine the same way his necklace would dangle over you if he was on top of you.

A space you hate remains between you two and you berate yourself, no amount of tipsiness should allow you to be this way.

“Don’t you remember me?” you ask. His eyes prance over your features in what seems to be attempts to recall where he had seen you before. You wither just a bit in disappointment, a strange hope in you dwindles ever so slightly.

Was it too ambitious of you to hope to take space in his mind as well?

“Ah! We met at the museum. Didn’t we?” his brows rise in recognition.

“We did.” You nod, chuckling nervously as you push strands of your hair behind your ears. You miss the way his eyes darken at your apparent shyness.

Above you the sky darkens just the same, collecting gray clouds as if to match his soul.

“It would be absolutely mad of me not to remember such a pretty face.” The words tumble out his lips so deftly, yet they remain brimming with intensity, and they manage to tinge your cheeks a darker shade of pink, a deplorable exhibit of your heartstrings being played with so effortlessly.

"Do you always flirt with people like this?" you ask, a playful smile tilting your lips upwards.

"I'm glad my attempts at flirting are being acknowledged," he replies, the same playfulness dances around his face and when his eyes dip to your lips for a moment before they’re flitting back to your eyes, it is enough to have your breath hitching.

There's a moment of silence that falls over you, it isn't necessarily awkward, yet the tension encloses itself around your neck, embraces you with a threat of bad decisions. At this moment, they don’t look bad enough.

The short silence is interrupted when you shiver, the cold remains cruel against your cheap clothing.

“Are you cold?” he asks, seeming to notice it all.

“A bit.” You admit, burying your hands in- between your thighs in search of warmth. He eyes your action carefully, and then he moves to take off his hoodie, left only in his turtleneck.

Extending it to you.

“Oh you don’t have to-“you attempt to refuse, shaking your head but he doesn’t let you finish, throwing the fabric onto your lap.

“Wear it.” Perhaps it’s the way his tone is so authoritative it has you crumbling quickly, not fighting back as you put it on, his scent engulfs you and your body rises in temperature instantaneously

“Are you perhaps afraid to look at me?" he asks when you keep your eyes on your tangled fingers, his tone is taunting, an underline of mockery prevails there.

A challenge presents itself to you and you swallow it up, head snapping to look at him with faux confidence clambering over your being. He smirks, somehow managing to remain doused in otherworldly beauty and something akin to victory ceases his eyes.

You wonder how it is possible to have such absurd desires like wishing you’re a mere emotion fortunate enough to flow within him. You must be going insane with loneliness.

"Why would I be?" your eyebrow raises, a plaintive venture to take the lead in whatever dance you’re having.

Something manages to coexist in the middle of all the loneliness meshing with your bones. A feeling akin to curiosity, excitement. A feeling that seems dangerous, a fire that will surely inundate you the longer you stay here.

Eyes midnight black, half lidded, stare back at you. Refusing to back down.

“Your eyes are prettier when they’re looking at me.” your confidence leaves, shattered as soon as it comes, the tips of your ears turning red and the flattery waters your heart so facilely. Your heart hammers against your chest, as if begging to be let out and you almost want to do just that.

At the realization that you lost so quickly you wish to throw up your heart, welcoming your defeat with open arms.

“If you’re gonna keep flirting with me, at least tell me your name.” You mumble, loud enough for your words not to be stolen by the wind and he chuckles.

“Are you interested in me?”

“Stop please.” You whine, bringing your palms to your cheeks. You’re so hot you could melt right on this seat.

“I’m only teasing, darling.”

“Well stop teasing me.” his eyes grow fond at the pout taking place on your face, you seem to be unaware of how utterly adorable you are.

“How about this,” he turns his body towards you, arms crossed on his chest, and you try your hardest not to stare” I have a little game for you if you manage to solve it then I’ll tell you, my name.” he suggests and you contemplate on what to say, yet you find yourself nodding.

“Give me your arm.” He whispers, inching closer to you and you do as he says, embarrassingly fast as if you were desperate to please, desperate for a glimpse of a smile from a stranger as you extend your arm towards him.

His touch is delicate as his fingers inch the sleeves of your (his) hoodie upwards, it has goosebumps erupting on your skin, setting your body ablaze and your breaths grow labored when his eyes catch yours, pulling you into him with a vigorous force

“I’m gonna write something on your arm and you have to guess it, simple yeah?” his voice is low as if he’s afraid to break whatever hue the both of you have fallen into and your lips separate with a familiar softness “okay.” You whisper back, the quirk of his lips, ever so slightly has a whimper bubbling at the back of your throat.

His nimble fingers feel cold against your skin, keeping his eyes fixated on your face as his fingers irritatingly, deliberately trace syllables upon your arm.

“Can you tell me what I just wrote?” You blink at him, realizing you have paid no attention whatsoever, instead all you did was stare at him, wandering in your own thoughts that are evoked by him.

“Sorry,” you clear your throat, attempting to pull yourself together “do it again.” You tell him and his lips twitch upwards in a way that slightly piques you. his fingers start tracing letters upon the skin of your arms again and this time, you pay your utmost attention to every move, every brush of his fingers.

“I can?” you answer when he pauses with a question in his gaze.

“Yes, good.” He resumes moving his fingers.

“I can, see?”

“Mhm.” You furrow your brows, seeming to have lost track and he’s lenient enough to do it again.

Your mouth shaping around the words fleeing to your mind, his stare stays affixed on your lips. A foreboding glint manifests in his stare, till yours widen, overtaken by brief triumph.

“I can see you! That’s what you wrote. I can see you.” you exclaim, excitedly. A gleam enough to blind anyone with your smile that has him chuckling and shaking his head.

“Hold on, I’m not done yet.”

“Oh,” you settle down with pink cheeks, embarrassed.

As his fingers move against your skin anew, akin to strokes of a paintbrush inundated with iciness, a benevolence lingers at the tips of his fingers. It’s competent at eliciting a shiver to run down your spine, your heart pulsating.

I

Can

See

Your

Just as he’s tracing what you assume to be the last word on your arm, the sky blights your little bubble, breaking through it with force as droplets of water hit your face. You look up at the sky as it starts to rain and his stays on your face.

As if feeling his stare slowly you find him, and then just like the first time you saw him he captures you in place. A hue of vulnerability and a sense of endearment colors his gaze. Just like the dewdrops of rain it grazes the surface of your heart prominently.

Inchmeal, he pulls the hood of the garment over your head, sheltering you from the rain and you hold your breath, waiting, anticipating for something as ardent as the feelings splashing across his face.

“Yn!” you hear Heeseung’s voice call for you from behind “Come on! Let’s go home.”

In a mere second, his eyes dart behind you before they’re back on you, he smiles, irreconcilable with how grim the sky looks above you.

Heady and sweet.

“Go.” He tells you, voice low and perhaps it was the tilt of his lips that has you obligating with a silent nod.

Your friends are not sober enough to ask you who you were with, and you colored with shades of red, attraction.

It is a veil against the questions that should be alarming like why a man with a such an expensive watch around his wrist lurking around this side of the city.

With a hand on your hip, eyes filled with flames of irritation you glare at an unconscious Heeseung sprawled on your couch. With a snore loud enough for you to grow deaf. Evidence of last night’s chaos lies on the ground. Empty bags of chips and empty beer cans.

You had awakened with a slight ache forming in the temples of your head, a myriad of visions conquering your mind, mainly of your mystifying encounter with the handsome stranger.

With a shake of your head, you take a seat on the small coffee table that's facing your worn-out couch. Your eyes stilling on your friend's peaceful sleeping face, too peaceful. delivering a hard jab to his side, the latter barely feels it, only groaning in response. You huff, reaching for his cheek and pinching, hard. And that seems to do the job because Heeseung’s eyes shoot open, slapping your hand away with enormous potency.

"Ow! what the hell?" He whines, rubbing his now reddening cheek.

"Had to wake you up somehow." You say with a shrug, getting up and walking to your kitchen, another overly dramatic whine of his has you rolling your eyes.

"You're fucked in the head, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah" you sip on your water, Heeseung shuffles from behind you, yawning as he leans his head on your shoulder, his body almost engulfing yours with his weight, arms wrapping around your waist in search for warmth, the morning weather remains frigid, sweeping in through the thin walls of your apartment.

“You’re heavy Hee and your breath stinks.” You sigh and he hums, making no effort to move away.

“Last night was interesting.” He says into your neck.

“Was it?”

“Who was that guy you were with?” your hand stills around the glass, had not expected such question.

“You saw us?” you retort, tilting your head to look at him.

“I did.” His arm loosens from around your waist to dawdle past you to brew some coffee, in search for some needed energy “so who was he? Mr. glasses?” he leans his elbow on the counter, facing you with a scrutinizing gaze.

You busy your fingers with toying with the plate of grapes in front of you, an awkward avoidance drapes over you.

“Just some guy.” You shrug.

“Didn’t take you as the type to chill in the middle of the night with just some guy.”

“I don’t know him Heeseung. We met once at some museum, and I just randomly saw him again last night.”

He keeps quiet, pursuing his lips. Seemingly not awake enough to register anything that meaningful. At his speech impediment, you take your glass with you, and settle upon your couch with a sigh, relaxing into the cushions. Heeseung follows you shortly after, his own cup of coffee in his hands.

“Jaeyun has been blowing up my phone.” He starts, sitting way too closely next to you.

“So?”

“He said you guys almost kissed in his car the other night.”

"I don't even understand why he's telling you all this shit." You mummer with an exhale, running your hands through your hair warily.

"He's just venting you know he has no one." You know he’s right, but it doesn’t lessen how hard the strings of irritation are pulling at you.

"Stop telling me about it then."

"Okay someone's in a bitch mood." Heeseung grumbles, hands up in surrender.

His eyes shift to your face, seeming to notice the bags under your eyes, the fatigue pasting itself to you almost invariably these days, wordlessly he pulls you into him, arms around your shoulders and you go easily, his touches, as gentle and warm as ever.

“I hope you’re being careful, angel.”

You keep quiet, eyes zeroed in on his cup of coffee.

You are walking home from work.

The sun has set too early, and the streets are sinisterly empty. The lights flicker;

 on

off

on

off

you’re feeling cold, you can barely feel the tips of your fingers and It's oddly windy, you’re clad in nothing, but a tank top and your mind is hazy. You can’t seem to recall where your jacket is. Did you leave it at home, or did you end up leaving it at the store? You wield yourself to remember yet nothing.

You pass by a clock that's arbitrarily tossed upon the cracked ground of the street, for an unspecified reason you go and pick it up. It’s pointing at 11, slowly turning to 12 and before you could blink the clock wire starts moving inhumanly fast, turning and you grow dizzy. Throwing it back on the ground as you bring your palm to your temples with a groan.

The clock disappears as soon as it touches the pavement.

I need to go home.

Your head is now pounding, legs wobbly as you stumble on the sidewalk. Your vison blurry and your chest tightens with insignificant trepidation.

I need to go home

I need to go home

I need to go home

You hear footsteps behind you and your chest tightens even more, breathing grows to be a harder task and you’re panting, terror nestles its way into you uninvited and hastily. You don’t need to look behind you to feel alarmed, instead your weak legs attempt to pick up speed, a futile way to flee from whatever danger lingering behind. abruptly pain spreads across the bottom of your feet as if you’re running on endless needles, it’s unbearable and you’re struggling to breathe, panting loudly yet no air seems to make its way into your throat. As if steel is lodged in the middle.

The footsteps grow closer and closer to you, agonizingly taunting, you can’t move when you feel a presence behind you, feel their breath hit the back of your neck and with one swift move, you feel a hand circle your wrist, its grip unrelenting and your body grows frail, unable to fight back.

You look down at the hand holding onto you and all you see is red blood. Dripping everywhere, down your wrist staining you. Your mouth opens with a scream but it’s silent, no sound can be heard.

With a frightened expression and widened gaze, you look up at the guy, with an unrecognizable face, he’s doused in blackness. It flings your soul into a substantial pool of horrific panic. You try to break free, your fingers twisting but to no avail. His grip is too strong, your own body too weak to fight back. You try to scream again, yelling to be let go and yet just the same it’s silent.

Your free hand touches your face only to realize your mouth has been sewn shut.

Suddenly the sky above you color with grey clouds and it starts to rain drops of crimson.

The scent of metallic invades your nostrils, you taste it on your tongue and your known nausea builds alarmingly swiftly. You only register your tears spilling out your eyes when the guy tackles you to the ground. His body is akin to a block of metal on top of you.

He starts to cackle at you, you can feel your heart beating its way out of your chest, loud and painful. You’re terrified, covered in blood and incapable of catching your breath.

There’s a knife in his hand, as his laughter gets louder and louder ringing in your ears, the blade cuts through your chest. He craves out your heart and you lie there, watching as he brings it to his mouth with a smile so wide and chews on it.

You can’t move, you can’t speak, you have no one to help you.

You wake up with a gasp, eyes lined with tears and shaking with tremors of terror running through your limbs. You look around and your panic subsides with an exhale, realizing you’re on your bed, in your room.

A wave of relief washes over you, like splashed cold water. It was just a bad dream. A really bad dream. Unwittingly your palm sprawls over your chest, right where your heart is and another exhale escapes you, it’s beating and it’s still here.

You’re okay, everything is okay.

Checking your phone, you scroll the seemingly monotonous messages from your friends. You had finished classes early and decided to go back home and nap before your planned study session with them. Your body has been feeling weak these few past days. Ever since your encounter with the pretty stranger, surely staying under the rain that late at night wasn’t the smartest decision. Despite it being short-lived it was more than enough for your frail body to fall apart with a sore throat and a runny nose. A flu lurks around the corner, and you know it’s coming.

Your eyes flit to the now washed hoodie you hung on the door of your closet, a constant reminder that whatever you felt was real. A hope etched onto the fabric for another chance, to see him.

You get ready in a haze, mind a little numb and limbs dragging with a dire ache. Heeseung ends up picking you up and he keeps rambling the whole ride about a new video game he needs to buy. You keep quiet, looking out the window, although your nap you still feel weary, head buzzing with recollection of the nightmare you had. You had an inkling that it was about the figure you saw outside your work a couple of weeks ago.

Although you’re accustomed to being surrounded by fret you never knew yourself to be this paranoid. You can't decide if you’re being way too anxious about such a minuscule matter, or you aren’t giving it enough magnitude.

You meet Sunoo and Minji outside the library, a small and cute one just around the corner from a cafe that you used to work at. Although it’s closed now.

The owner – who was a kind old man – had decided to close it after three years because he couldn't handle the terrible loss of his son and moved back to his hometown. You never knew the exact details of the incident.

The tension swirling in the air is hefty enough for you to feel it, somehow adding heaviness to your shoulders as your eyes dart between the two. Unresolved conversation hangs between them and it’s evident enough in the way there’s a frown plastered on Minji’s face. An avoidance in Sunoo’s gaze.

"Should we go for karaoke after?" Heeseung suggests as soon as you step foot inside, with an arm around your shoulder he brings you closer to him. It’s a salient striving to lighten the mood.

It earns him a glare from Minji who seems to have little to zero tolerance loitering in her.

“We have no time for bullshit. We came here to finish this stupid project.” She huffs and Heeseung holds his hands up in surrender.

“Damn okay. Chill.” He mummers and you chuckle, adjusting the falling strap of your tote bag.

On the contrary, Sunoo’s expression turns sour, his brows knitting together and his words fall like bombs that have been on edge, waiting to find a chance to be let loose “He obviously meant when we’re finished with our work.” He grumbles, voice laced with evident venom, Heeseung agrees with a nod.

"And you seriously think we're gonna have time to do anything? The due date is literally tomorrow." Minji retorts with an equal amount of venom tinting her tone.

You sigh at the glare the librarian throws your group, noticing the disturbance your discussion has caused across the stillness of the place “Can you guys cut it out and start actually doing your work?” the three of them look at you in union, nothing is said back at you and with a pleased nod you take a seat at one of the nearest tables. Your friends follow silently, unpacking their stuff, immersed in their work.

"yn," Heeseung calls. Brushing his shoulder against yours. His eyes are wide in a plea and a pout on his lips.

"What?" you ask with imitated disgust.

"Can you help me with this?" his pout intensifies as he points at the part he's confused about, batting his lashes at you and you bite back a smile as you lean over, bangs falling over your eyes and inattentive to the way Heeseung’s expression melts into an unfamiliar tenderness, gaze serious.

The question was related to personality psychology. You and he had decided to enroll in the course together. Thinking it would be easier if you had someone with you. It slipped your mind that one; Heeseung is an idiot at everything except for math and two; your attention span has been all over the place lately. Dozing off in almost every class.

"Sorry you're gonna need to help yourself because I don't understand it either." You say, patting his shoulder.

Heeseung looks away promptly leaving you with no answer and despite your perplexity at his behavior you don’t dwell on it. Putting your earbuds in and taking out your own notes to start studying.

A couple of hours have passed, Minji and Sunoo are much more mitigated, the air flows lighter and you can’t help the smile that disperses across your face at the sight of them working closely together. You stretch your arm above your head with an exhale, feeling your back muscles relax.

Leaning your chin on the palm of your hand, you look out the window. catching sight of the rain outside. Taking out your earbuds, the sound of raindrops hitting the window reverberates throughout the tranquil silence disseminating the place. It stirs a welcomed alleviation within you. Days of overworking yourself alongside the lack of sleep catches up to you, fatigue sears itself onto your being and you lie your head on the table. Eyes pasted on the dewdrops trailing down the window leisurely.

Minji's and Sunoo hushed conversation starts to feel like white noise. You fall into a distance lullaby and right at this mere moment you feel like you could relax for the first time in a while. A feeling so foreign you’re almost too afraid to settle in.

As your eyes grow heavier with sleep, you notice a familiar figure pass by in front of the window. Impossible to forfeit, amongst the crowd and the countless umbrellas there’s just no way for you to miss him. Not when he’s been haunting your mind for stretching hours. Not when your head hits the pillow and the only plaguing your thoughts are the words he traced upon your skin, as if tattooed by flames you cannot seem to relinquish.

You shoot up from your chair, your tiredness long obliterated as your eyes frantically follow him. The conversation of your friends dies down, their focus shifting on you with concern etched onto their features

"Are you okay?" Sunoo asks, his eyes shifting to where you’re looking.

"Yn?" Heeseung calls out to you.

But you’re impotent. Your attention stolen and you’re incapable of registering a word that’s being said to you.

"Sorry guys, I’ll be right back." You speak in a hurry, shoving your phone deep into your pocket and quickly storming out of the library. The rain is unforgiving as it dawns on your being, drenching you and earning you a few disdainful looks from the people passing by.

You don’t recognize yourself, you’re not usually like this. And you try to grasp meaning of your behavior, yet you’re empty handed, filled with a baffling urge for a glimpse of this man who’s nothing but a stranger to you. Perhaps it was the wind of grotesque emotions flinging through the air every time you two spoke, his few words have stuck in your mind like a record that won’t stop playing and no matter how many times you listen, you’re still scuffling to find elucidation.

Perhaps you were just edging yourself into deliration.

"What am I doing." You mumble to yourself as you’re about to go inside, you notice him at the end of the crossroad.

You stand still for three full seconds.

On the first one your brain chastises you, stridently yelling at you why do you care over and over again.

On the second one you shift onto rationality telling yourself to go back inside the library and continue the life you’re so used to. Where no weird guys you’re fascinated with exist and you act like a different version of yourself.

On the third one you start sprinting because the man takes a right turn, and you need to catch up. Water splashes under your feet as you gather whatever robustness is left in your body.

You don’t give room for yourself to abide on any raising questions in your head, like what would you possibly say to him if you caught up to him? You have no idea how you could explain this peculiar urge to see him again? Was this behavior odd enough for you to be deemed a stalker?

The space between you two grows smaller, your shorter legs remain lacking for you to fully catch up when he takes a turn to his right, you follow right after with a panting chest. Your feet come to a stop as the sight of an empty alleyway comes into view. Your brain racing with confusion that clampers over your face just the same. You attempt to look further yet only bags of trash greet you. The wetness of the rain mixing in with it makes the scent horrendous.

"Are you following me?" You jolt in surprise; a discernible gasp tumbles out your lips.

You swivel around, coming face to face with your desired target who stays as breathtaking as ever. Shrouded in black formalwear and hair styled to perfection, his glasses hang at the tip of his nose, His hand holding onto an umbrella while the other is buried in his pocket.

He’s a striking image of an ardent artist’s majestic creation, diabolically ethereal, nothing less. You in contrast, a ball of predicament, hair wet and a heaving chest.

"I wasn't." You answer shortly, an idiotic attempt to grasp control over the situation.

If the raise of his brow is anything to go by, he doesn’t buy it and you cannot blame him.

"Oh really?" he muses, taking a few steps towards you, a smirk curling at the end of his lips and you hold your breath in guilt.

He tilts his umbrella to you, harboring you from the rain.

He looks down at you, eyes dark and it is enough to set your cheeks ablaze, a blush mortifyingly potent enough to travel all the way to your ears. Your heart skips beat almost appallingly, loud enough you grow fearful he might be able to hear it. It sends you into enough panic to forget about how uncomfortable your clothes feel, sticking to your body.

“You shouldn’t be out without an umbrella when it’s raining this hard.” He reprimands, tone gentle.

“I know.” Sweat beads start cumulating at your forehead, albeit the frigid weather, your body growing hot.

“Where are you heading? I’ll take you.” he asks, tilting his head at you, a smile just as tender as the one that colors his voice, and you shake your head at him in disregard.

“Or would you like to admit now that you were following me?”

“I-I wasn’t following you!” you sputter, nowhere near convincing.

“I’m only teasing, darling.” He chuckles, a sound so strangely compelling, an urge crawls over you, so foolish like saving the sound between the palms of your hands alongside his sweet endearment.

“Aren’t you scared, to be here with me alone?” he deliberately asks, voice lowered.

“y-you don’t seem dangerous. Besides you saved me from that old man last time so.” You trail off, bunglingly and he hums, gauging the way you almost curl into yourself with precious diffidence.

Your eyes darts to his momentarily, holding you captive with manacles coaxed with deviant cravings, it tastes like candied impulses you wish to give into, it feels like addictive fire upon your skin ignited by his gaze.

Your body is overwhelmingly hot so that exhaling grows to be a harder task.

"We seem to always meet when it's raining." You whisper, traversing through the silence.

"I guess so." He hums, keeping his eyes on you “were you keeping track of our meetings?” He follows with a question, you dare with collected vigor not to look away despite the way your cheek burns so profoundly it feels excruciating.

“It’s hard not to.” You admit.

“How come?”

You chew on your lower lip, brain turning to putty, just like melting ice cubes under the vehemence of his stare. You aren’t feeling well, gravely trying to come up with a tolerable fib to spill. Yet the wheels in your head feel like they have turned rusty, unable to turn quick enough. The blink of your eye takes longer to unfold.

“they’re fascinating to say the least.”  You settle with the truth.

“Mm. are they or do you find me fascinating?”

“Do you always ask random strangers this many questions?” you huff out, you’re growing dizzy, your knees unsteady.

“Do you always follow strangers into alleyways?”

“No.” you answer, airily.

He takes a few steps towards you, closing the already very small distance separating you. Tentatively he brings his hand up to your face, with the back of his fingers he caresses your forehead so delicately, your eyelids fall shut, missing the way his eyebrow shoot up in surprise.

“You’re very warm. Are you alright?” his words fall upon your ears laboriously, like they echo within your being, and it takes longer than necessary for you to find meaning in them.

“’m okay.” You murmur, absentmindedly stumbling forward and resting your forehead against his shoulder, his body aids in providing comfort you didn’t realize you needed.

“I don’t think so darling. Are you friends near?” he asks, and you shake your head, his arm wrapping around your shoulders vigilantly. It spreads a pleasant buzz throughout your body,

You’re so tired you want to go to sleep.

“I’m gonna take you to my house. Okay? We need to take care of you, it seems you’re running a fever.” you think you answer, or maybe you nod your head. You aren’t very sure.

All you know is that you felt indisputable comfort in a sustained amount of time.

When you awake, you’re met with a foreign ceiling. It’s painted with spatters of colors atop one another. Dominated by three shades black, white and red. They expand into bigger arbitrarily sketches you’re not sentient enough to understand just yet. It’s very well done, inherently distinctive that you can tell it’s painted by the hands of whoever is residing here.

You sit up with a groan, twined with the throb of your forming headache. Pressing your thumbs into your temples, it is not even close pressure for the pain to subside. Blinking, your eyes take a swift look around the room you’re in. The space larger than your entire apartment.

You don’t get to linger in how much money this man has before you hear the door clicking open.

"Oh, you're awake?" He asks, Looking fresh out of the shower, with slightly damp hair and barefaced.

His black clothes are now replaced with a white button-up dress shirt and black formal pants. You slightly raise your eyebrows at the choice of clothes. His hair leaves droplets of water on his shirt leaving some spots transparent.

"Did I pass out?" you ask, voice just a tad groggy, your eyes following him as he turns his back to you, fetching something from the coffee table that you didn’t even notice.

Just how big is this room?

“No. you just fell asleep.” He answers, turning to face you with a cigarette dangling from his lips, unlit while a lighter curls between the fingers of his other hand. The twitch of his lips is enough evidence of how comical he finds this to be.

“Oh.” You trail off, face burning.

As he walks to you, the intensity in his gaze remains as suffocating as flower petals blooming in the middle of your throat, you don’t allow yourself to breath as his slender fingers graze your forehead, your fists curling onto the sheets.

“Your fever has gone down. Thankfully.” He says, voice muffled by the stick between his lips.

His black hair drips water on your bare thighs causing you to shiver. It's cold. At the realization you look down at your lap, noting you’re not wearing any pants, clad in an unfamiliar sweatshirt.

“D-did you change my clothes?” you stammer, your cheeks falling into a darker shade.

“I couldn’t put you to bed with soaked clothes. Could I?”

“Well y-yeah.”

“I’m just teasing, darling.” He starts, his eyes skimming across your blushing face with relish “My maid changed your clothes for you. I’m a gentleman after all I wouldn’t undress you without your consent.”

“Gosh this is so fucking embarrassing. I’m sorry.” You whine, covering your face with your palms in hopes to somehow dissipate into air, or let this be another stupid nightmare of yours.

“Which is, the fact that you fell asleep on me or that you talked in your sleep about how handsome you think my face is?”

“Oh my god!” you exclaim, horrified at the information, you curl into yourself further. The way he chuckles so lightheartedly doesn’t make it any less humiliating.

"Would you like some food?" he asks, his finger brushing across your arm causing goosebumps to arise.

“No.” you groan “I wanna go home or maybe throw myself out the window.”

“Now you’re hurting me.” you peak at him through your fingers, expecting a teasing smirk to be displaying yet you’re met with an odd solemnity.

"I made some soup for you-" He pauses to light his cigarette, taking a deep inhale and puffing out the smoke. You watch with unalloyed attention as he throws the lighter on the table next to the bed mindlessly.

There’s an anomalous elegancy that coats his every move, enough to have you enchanted.

"So, you should really have some." He finishes, dark eyes finding yours with unfaltering assertiveness that has you silently nodding.

You cannot give voice to your emotions, not when he’s an embodiment of everything beauty gets the pleasure to breathe into. It’s an unyielding attraction, one that you cannot seem to scrimmage against, ideally you bare your neck, waiting to feel his teeth on your throat.

At your approval, he sends you a gentle smile, like a soothing wave of comfort descending upon your body that has been drowning in exhaustion. It’s ill-fitted, compared to his dusky room, or the cigarette slotted between his lips.

“I’ll go get it for you.” he tells you and you give him another nod,

With his absence, you fetch the opportunity with vigor, taking it upon yourself to snoop around. You start by examining the lighter he threw on the bedside table, the shiny exterior had managed to capture your attention. Brushing your fingers over the leather case, it’s not hard to tell even such a small item is expensive.

You notice an initial is engraved at the bottom, trailing the two letters with the tip of your index finger 'PSH'.

Putting the lighter back on the dresser, you stand up feeling slightly better, your legs gathering more strength compared to earlier. You turn your attention to the countless papers sprawled on the floor, collected in a pile as if they hold no importance anymore. Picking a few up, you go through them with inquisitive eyes. They all seem like first drafts of sketches, clearly unfinished. Few with a face etched onto them, void of any clear features, another is just a pair of eyes. While a different one is just an outline of a body, for some odd reason they all feel familiar. Like you have seen them somewhere or like you should know who they belong to.

It has an unsettling feeling nestling its way into you, the same one you felt back at the museum. Drifting your eyes to the corner of the page, the autograph there catches your eyes.

"Park Sunghoon." you read out loud. You check the other papers and surely every single one of them is signed with the same name. you don’t get to dwell on the discovery before you hear the door clicking open once again.

Placing the papers back in their original place, you face the door. He steals a glance at you, your gaze locking for a mere second before he’s walking over to the small coffee table, sitting in the middle of his room paired with a sofa that looks more expensive than anything you’ve ever owned.

"Come here." He tells you, setting the tray he was holding down, and you follow quietly. Sitting down next to him with a good, measured gap between you.

He eyes you but doesn’t comment on it.

"Help yourself." He says pointing to the bowl of soup with a tilt of his head, his fingers curling around one of the cups that seem to be holding coffee.

You only nod, scooting closer to the table as the delicious smell invades your nostrils, evoking your hunger to raise and the realization that you haven’t eaten anything all day.

“Good?” he asks after you take a sip, eyes fond.

“Really good. Thank you.” you answer with a smile, diving in for some more.

"Have some green tea." Sunghoon suggests and you nod. Setting the bowl down on the tray. You reach for the cup. Your eyes immediately dart to the label of the tea, and you recognize it as one of the more expensive brands. They don't even sell it where you work.

Amidst your sip, you look at him only to find him already watching you. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, his eyes follow your every move with a slackened expression. With tinted cheeks you avert your attention to the huge window next to you, taking note that the rain has stopped completely. Although it's still cloudy outside.

You should head home soon before it starts raining again.

"So why were you following me?" Sunghoon asks, slicing into the congested tension. You don’t expect it, resulting in you choking on a sip, your face turning red in color as you fall into a fit of coughs.

Sunghoon’s emotions grow into amusement as if you weren’t on the verge of death.

"I wasn't following you." you state, clearing your throat.

“What were you doing then?"

“I was at the library with my friends,” you start, eyes lolling everywhere and he only hums, patience seeming unlimited “I saw you passing by, and I wanted to tell you that I figured out what you wrote on my arm that night.”

"So, you went out into the rain without an umbrella?” he puffs out a chuckle and you’re starting to feel a tad bit annoyed. Like you’re a source of entertainment to him.

“It was stupid. I’m so dumb for doing that I get it.” You huff, overwhelmed with discomfiture.

“It made me happy.”

“What?”

“Knowing I wasn’t the only one still thinking about you.”

“You think about me?” you ask, eyes flitting to his, they stay unwavering.

“I do.” There’s no way for you to prove it, but you know it’s the truth he speaks, woven with that same unfeigned smile.

Your silence stretches, as you ponder upon all the contingencies staring back at you. You can’t find anything worrisome and perhaps that’s why it worries you, you cannot be worthy of anything this gentle.

“You told me you figured out what I wrote on your arm?” he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts and you brighten with excitement, inching closer to him unwittingly, he leans into it. His arms stretching behind you.

“I did!”

“Mhm, go on. Tell me.”

“I can see your fears.” You answer, eyes dancing between his with overflowing delirium. Evoking a smile from him.

Your chest warms at the sight.

“Close enough.” He tells you and it’s enough for your excitement to melt right off you, replaced with a pout and a knot between your brows.

“I got it wrong?”

“It’s a T, not an F.”

“I can see your tears?” you ask, tilting your head in a too endearing of a manner.

“Yeah.” he answers softly.

“Does it have any special meaning behind it?” He shrugs at your question, leaving it unanswered as he stands up wordlessly, walking to his bedside table, he leans down to open a drawer and fetch something you can’t see.

You let your eyes wander, trailing over his slim figure, keeping yourself in check is almost deemed unobtainable. Not when you fall breathless as you’re pushed into the same space as him. He’s stunningly virtuoso as he’s surrounded by pieces of his own art, scattered around the floor, hung around the walls of his bedroom. Like it took decades to sculpt this man. Not a single flaw to be seen.

"Are you gonna tell me your name?" you ask when he turns to face you, a sketchbook between his hands and you’ve managed to stitch yourself woefully just in time.

“Although you got it wrong,” he sits himself back on the sofa right next to you, charm imbued into his grin “it’s Sunghoon. Park Sunghoon.” The name rolls off his tongue so fluidly, far from how it sounded in your head when you read it. The fact that you already knew is a hushed secret within the walls of your brain.

“What’s yours?” He opens his sketchbook, skimming through ones you don’t get enough time to steal glances at.

“yn,” you answer.

“Pretty name.” He doesn’t give enough time for his words to penetrate your mind, instead they hang over you like their own cloud replenishing with their own shades of emotions.

He inches closer to you, tilting your chin towards him with his thumb and index finger. You’re so taken back you don’t even get to inhale, cheeks glowing pink and body going rigid. His eyes skimming over your features, scrutinizing you as if you’re one of his paintings.

"W-what?" You stutter out.

His fingers loosen, abandoning the warmth of your skin, your fingers itch with a foolish urge, one like stopping him. An imprudent entreaty climbs up your throat, one like telling him you miss his touch the moment it’s gone.

“You have freckles.” he says, settling into an empty page and picking up a pencil that had been lying randomly on the table.

“They’re very faint. Nobody ever notices them.” You reply, dumbfounded.

“I can see them very clearly.” There’s a deeper meaning underlying his words, one that you cannot seem to comprehend "you’re bewitching. It has me questioning if you’re real." He continues, unceremoniously.

You find fiendish in his kind words, it’s as if your heart isn't swelling up in your chest. Inflating so beyond your control it feels like it might explode any minute. You exhort yourself not to be swooned so effortlessly. You shouldn't be taken away by so little yet flattering words like a weak branch swayed away by a fleeting wind.

You tell yourself you have been here before, you cannot stumble into the same mistakes over and over again, even if it grows harder by the minutes. The cravings of your heart screams grow louder when he looks at you, his hand pausing for a mere minute as if he’s taken back just the same. The softening of your gaze, an exposure of all your hidden fragility.

"I feel the same way about you," your words escape you without much thought, unconcealed.

You stare at each other for what almost feels like a decennary. Years of people dying, souls being reborn. And you’re still here, as if frozen in time and whatever colors the air between you two is enough to pump life into you for that long. It’s counted minutes, fewer seconds for you hold your breath and longer for you to blink.

Sunghoon doesn't reply, only hums as he goes back to drawing. Skilled fingers moving across the paper.

But you feel it, in the darkening of his eyes. The sharpening of his gaze. The tightening of his hold on the pencil. It's all so subdued but evident. A shift in the space between you, the tension amplifying, tethered with feverish intensity. You catch yourself breathing in deeper gulps of air. Wrapping an arm around your body, you look around. A failed attempt to calm your nerves.

"Are you uncomfortable?" Sunghoon asks, scrutinizing your movement.

"A little." You admit and he tsks, in what seems to be disapprobation, it has your arms tightening around yourself. An urge to please arises.

"You can ask me anything you want, if that will help." He suggests.

"Do you always draw strangers out of the blue?" you tease, striving for the air between you to be lighter.

It earns you a chuckle from him, a shake of his head that has you entranced. You never knew there were this many shapes of beauty and you did not know they could all exist in one person, in the tone of his voice, in the fluttering of his lashes, the sharpness of his jaw and even in between the strands of his hair.

"Only the pretty ones." He jokes back and you blush with a scuttling gaze, denying your heart.

"How old are you?" you inquire, attempting to start normal conversation.

"How old do you think I am?" He asks. Looking at you sideways with a tilt of his eyebrow that has you melting like butter. Squirming in your seat.

“Aren’t you supposed to be answering my questions?”

"I'm 28." He answers and you cannot hide the surprise taking place upon your face, not when he didn’t look a day over the age of 23.

“You’re young, aren’t you?” He asks, at your silence.

“I’m not that young.” Your tone comes out defensive, it has his lip twitching upwards in merriment “I turned 21 last month.” You continue and he only hums back.

You feel it again, the abrupt stopping of time for you, yet the ticking of the clock on the wall echoes resoundingly throughout the room. It is not enough to drown your heartbeat ringing in your ears. Not enough to conceal the allure swimming in his eyes when they dance between your eyes and then down at your lips.

You find yourself inching closer, you’re indistinguishable being pulled in by your heartstrings, with flames surging between you two, intertwined with lethal attraction and obscure intensity. The idea of burning alive does not sound all that bad right now. The space in the middle of you closes by inches, his breath reeking of cigarettes and coffee, the smell of his shampoo are all distinguishable.

He doesn’t move, like he’s waiting for you to make the first move, and you’re kneeling into it, with eyes turning hazy and labored breaths.

As your lips are about to touch, a striking sound cuts through, the ringing of a phone catches you both off guard. You wait for Sunghoon to get up, but he remains still, not moving a muscle, the twitch of his brows are the only giveaway of his annoyance.

"It's yours." He whispers, you’re confused for a minute but as the haze of enticement evaporates, you recognize the ringtone of your phone, spot it buzzing on the bed.

“Oh.” You stand up awkwardly, with stiffness in your bones you dawdle past him to grab your phone.

There are endless notifications of messages from Minji and Sunoo, a couple of missed calls from Heeseung. You cuss at yourself, had totally forgotten there are people waiting for you outside of whatever bubble you have stumbled into with Sunghoon. Who stays on the sofa with his back to you, seeming too busy admiring his own sketch of you.

You sway on your feet, with swaying thoughts, questions as foolish as the tint of red upon your cheeks. Is he admiring it because it’s you or is it an egotistical cherish?

Disappointment builds inside you at the thought.

"I should head home." You say, pocketing your phone.

"My driver will take you back." he replies, turning to look at you from the couch and you avert your eyes. Focusing on ripped up sketch on the ground.

It's disheartening to think about how something he probably cherishes so deeply is torn to shreds.

"There's no need. You have done more than enough."

"You're still tired. He'll take you." There’s an edge to his tone that kills the possibility of a clinch. It is not unkind in any way, in fact it’s implicitly sweet.

“I’m sorry and thank you for everything.”

“No need for apologizes, darling.”

You linger by the door, an evident nervousness coating the way your fingers are entangling and with the same meaninglessly endless tolerance inked into him, he waits for you just as well.

“I’m sorry for stealing your clothes again.” You say, an impish smile tilting your lips upwards as you point at the pair of sweats covering your legs.

The same one disperses across his lips, as he tips his head back at you, his arms crossing upon his chest and almost shamelessly his eyes trail over your body, loitering by your chest, it ignites a blazing fire right down to your core. Ardour -as cunning as you know it to be- coaxes it all. A master of temptation and the both of you toy with it religiously.

“They look better on you anyways.”

You are disentitled to silence, his words messing up the atoms of your being there’s no way for you to think straight. So you don’t ask how can you give them back, and instead you’re out of his space with a racing heart, wrapped in a deluge of his scent and an unendurable moisture between your legs. Your cheeks marring red with disgrace.

colored with shades of a duskier red, your attraction deepens, coexists with drops of lust.

The different atmosphere between your apartment and the place you were in kills your spirit. You were never really a thriver for luxury. You didn't grow up rich or poor. You had very basic living circumstances. In every aspect.

Although your living conditions were much better than now.

Is what you think as you greet the old lady that's dragging her drunken son into her apartment. Her face flushes with embarrassment every time. Even though you never comment on it nor mention it the next day. This happens every Sunday. Sometimes the timing is different, either it's too early in the night or far too late. But it's always Sunday and you always manage to witness it every time.

You unlocked the door to your small place and darkness welcomes you, killing your spirit a little more. Twist the knife in.

"Look who decided to finally show up." You almost jump ten feet into the air, eyes widening in shock at the sight of Heeseung sitting, crossed arms on your couch.

Like a fucking creep.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you genuinely wonder, settling down upon the steps to take off your shoes. They have been feeling uncomfortable the whole ride, an itch you wish to scratch away. You hear Heeseung’s footsteps behind you.

"Where the hell were you? I was so worried you just disappeared."

"Okay dad." You roll your eyes, untying your shoelaces.

"I'm serious yn, that was fucked up. You just walked out without telling us anything."

He's right. And you know he’s right, an apology hangs at the tip of your tongue but in the same moment you reach into your shoe to feel a rough crumpled up piece of paper. With furrowed brows, you pull it out. Heeseung’s scolding continues yet your focus is displaced, you peel it open and everything around you feels like it stops moving for a second. The wheels in your brain coming to a halt at the digits staring back at you. 10 to be exact with PSH signed at the corner.

He gave you, his number.

Something in you blooms, like splashes of color on a blank canvas, manifesting to life with a smile against your will.

"Yn." Heeseung calls, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts, shoving the piece of paper into the pockets of your sweatpants.

"Yeah?"

"You okay? You have been off lately." His hands are on your shoulder, squeezing.

“I’m okay.” You assure, standing up to face him with a smile. This time it’s not enough to subdue the concern lingering in his eyes.

“What happened today?”

You knew the question was coming, and you knew hiding the truth from Heeseung is something you never succeed in, but you still feel yourself growing slightly nervous perhaps due to the irrational actions that you, yourself are embarrassed of.

Taking out the piece of paper from the confines of your pocket, you hand it to him. He raises his eyebrow in confusion but takes it from you, nonetheless. His eyes dart rapidly between the paper and you

"I'm confused?"

"Mr. glasses." recognition fills his expression as he looks at the paper once more.

"PSH? That's him?" You nod "His number?" you nod once again.

"I was at his apartment earlier- well more like penthouse but yeah." you explain, playing with your fingers.

"Right." He says slowly, evidently still befuddled with the amount of information you’re daunting on him out of nowhere, you cannot find blame to fling at him not when you also cannot fathom what's going on with you recently.

"It's why I disappeared earlier - which I'm so sorry about. that was shitty of me. I just saw him and I-i-" you trail off, failing to find proper delineation to your actions.

"Hey." He ceases your rambling, “It’s okay. I'm not upset with you." He assures and you nod silently, yet with a glance at him it was apparent that he still has words in his mouth, if his pursed lips and twitch of brows anything to go by.

“Just say it.”

"You want fun Hee or logical Hee?"

“Oh god there's two." You wince and his pursed lips turn into a forced smile, one that he wears whenever he finds nothing to say at your usual discomfiture.

"Logic. Go on." You signal with your hand for him to speak, with defeat dousing your face.

"Okay." his eyes lock with yours seeming to be collecting his words "I can see you're enamored with this guy-"

"I'm not."

"You're into him-"

"No." you interrupt him once again and he tilts his head at you with that same look.

"you're not into him?” he asks, with a deadpan expression.

"I'm not that either." You mumble with a pout.

"Okay. whatever." he pulls you closer to him, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ears with benign touches, you grow weak at the nice gesture.

"I just don't think it's a good time for you to be involved with anyone romantically." You keep quiet "You and Jae ended a couple months ago. Your dad passed away recently. You're grieving-"

"I'm not sad about Jaeyun." You tsk, his gaze softens, clouded with disquiet.

"You're grieving your dad, yn."

You always envied Heeseung. You never told him that. But you did ever since you were kids running around his backyard and he’d cry if he fell, complain if he’s hurt. You envied how he knew exactly how he felt. How he was never confused. He knew how to figure out his emotions, knew how to wear them proudly and what labels to stamp on them. Scratch that, he knew what to call yours.

Grief? you? you never know what you’re feeling. All you know is either black or white. Sometimes it's too dark. Your vision cannot see past your feet and other times it's the lightest white a human could ever experience, it’s blinding. Yet your black lasts months upon months. While your white usually feels like evanescent heaven, floating by with a blink, not enough for you to settle in, for your hands to clutch into anything.

Your blacks remain prevailing with counterfeit whites.

You chew on the inside of your cheek; your chest grows overwhelmed with the whirlwinds of emotions unraveling inside of you. you tell yourself you don’t want to shed tears – that you have no reason for agony to descend upon your cheeks. Yet pain spills into the cracks of your heart with familiarity, running down the same interchangeable patterns with a searing ache.

Your tears are persistent, filling your eyes with ineluctable force it makes you angry, feeding into your confusion. You can’t tell if you’re angry or sad anymore. You disentangle yourself from Heeseung’s embrace, turning your back to him as you melt upon the stairs of your doorway. Despicable tears fall from your eyes, silently colored with agony.

Heeseung wraps his arms around you once again, stubborn in being your comfort “I’m sorry.” He whispers, running his hands through your hair with tenderness that only flings you further into vexation.

“I can never forgive him.” Your words spill like an explosion of choked sobs, one that’s invoked by his hands traveling to your back with soothing swipes “It’s okay.” He tells and you could only shake your head with a heaving chest “now he's gone, and he never even apologized!" He pulls you further into his chest, a silly wish to take your pain for his "He's gone and it's so unfair because I have to deal with this."

"It's okay."

"I can never forgive him now." Your body is shaking violently with tormented weeping, a kind of heartbreak that cannot be caused by anything other than a parent.

"I wanted to." Your eyes flit to his and he can only nod at you with faith, his own eyes sparkling with unshed water "now I can't."

As you bury your face into his chest, his hold only grows tighter around you, with cravings to pacify your storms. You don’t know how much time passes by with you curled into his arms. It’s only when your sobs have died down, your breathing has settled and your tears have dried that he speaks;

"Angel?" he calls, carefully and you hum back an answer,

"What happened?" He asks, "You never told me what he did." Your mind goes blank, not finding enough words to explain. A strange numbness replaces the ache in your chest.

“Do you wanna make hot chocolate and watch shameless?” you ask, tipping your head back to look at him.

“Of course.” He smiles, standing up and offering his hand to you, a warmth envelope your body as you take it.

As Heeseung makes it to the kitchen before you, you linger by the stairs, eyes glued to the piece of paper that had ended up on the floor, picking it up, you brush your fingers over the initials.

"Come on! I'm not making yours!" Heeseung yells from the kitchen.

"Coming." You reply, tearing the paper into two and throwing it in the trash bin.  

Your blacks remain prevailing with counterfeit whites.

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Thinking about; getting choked by H.JS

[look at the size of his fucking hand. nobody cares about the pastry shua]

🖐Who; Hong Jisoo (Seventeen) x reader 🖐What; Not exactly smut but definitely 18+ 🖐WC; 1.2k 🖐Warnings; Profanity, choking, Shua is a bit condescending/teasing, I guess dom Shua if you wanna label it that way, I feel like I was gonna tag something else but i can't remember, it's actually a pretty fucking tame lil thot despite being about choking in my opinion tbh

Summary; Jisoo accidentally chokes you and discovers you're into it.

Minors do NOT interact, which means liking/reblogging/commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

You're just about to walk away from Jisoo to go get a drink, or get a snack, or something else that doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. And for some reason, Jisoo reaches out and grabs the back of your t-shirt to try and pull you back to him. Yet all it does is almost make you stumble and let out a choked sound thanks to the collar pulling tight against your throat.

Of course, the sound worries him, it hadn't been his intention to hurt you, but there's a dark little part of his brain that lights the fuck up at hearing you choke because of him. Still, he pushes it down and moves you out of the party crowd to an almost hidden corner to fuss over you.

"Okay, chill the fuck out," You slap his hands away from where they're fluttering around your throat in worry that he's hurt you.

"I choked you."

"In the boring way." You mutter without thought then look at him with wide eyes as you register that those words came out of your mouth and didn't remain in your head.

"The boring way?" He repeats, eyes sparkling with mirth as he straightens to his full height and tilts his head at you with a sweet smile that you know hides a sharpness that you've always wanted to taste on your tongue.

"Shut up." You try, even if you know it's fruitless. Hong Jisoo is not a man who easily backs down when he's caught something or someone in his trap.

He takes a step closer, and you instinctively move back and thunk against the wall which you truly hadn't noticed was so close. He takes another step, and then one more until his feet are blocking yours, his body so close you can feel the heat rolling off of him.

"Are you telling me there's a method of choking you enjoy, sweetheart?" He taunts softly as he lifts his left arm to lay his forearm against the wall diagonally, his elbow to the side of your head and his curled fist a little above your head. He's truly trapping you and honestly, you don't want to escape, wouldn't even try if there wasn't a wall blocking on the other side.

"Jisoo," You murmur.

"Mm?" He tilts his head and smiles a little brighter, though his eyes are darkening with a promise. You're not quite sure what that promise is yet, but you really want to find out.

You don't respond, there's truthfully nothing you have to say, well other than the urge to tell him to hurry up and put his hand on your throat, but you're certain if you even tried to suggest as much, he'd draw it out even longer and get off on your frustration.

"What's the matter? Lost your voice?" He smirks, dancing the fingers of his right hand over your left forearm, drawing goosebumps to the surface from his delicate touch. "Is that right, sweetheart? Did you lose your voice from just a tiny bit of pressure on this pretty throat?"

Suddenly, his fingers are against the side of your neck, palm not even brushing the very front of your throat and his thumb on the other side of your neck. Your brain immediately blanks but for one thought; how fucking big his hands are.

"Mm? Not going to answer me, baby?" He coos, leaning down towards you until his nose almost brushes yours. His eyes dart down when he catches your lips moving in his periphery, though no sound comes from your mouth and he chuckles, tone low and condescending. "Oh, honey," He straightens up just enough to meet your gaze, with that sparkle even brighter despite the darkness swirling in his eyes. "Is that pretty head of yours struggling already? I haven't even done anything. I'm not sure I should either." With a theatric put-upon pout, Jisoo starts to remove his light touch from your throat and push away from the wall.

You react without even thinking, both arms darting up to grab his right forearm and pull it back to you with big, pleading eyes locked on Jisoo. He can't help but lean back in, utterly mesmerised by how desperate you look to have his hand pressed to your throat.

Someone suddenly passes behind Jisoo much too close for his liking. They don't even glance your way yet Jisoo still angles his body to hide you as much as possible from them in a protective, possessive manner while his head lowers until the tip of his nose passes over your cheek when he turns his head towards you. "What do you want, baby, come on, tell me." He encourages you, a dark edge suddenly to his words. He suddenly sounds a little desperate himself, frantic even.

"Shua,"

"Yes, yes, that's my name, we know that." He huffs out, almost meanly and rolls his eyes. "Tell me something new. Tell me what you want me to do."

You turn your head as much as you can with his own so close to your right that your lips brush the side of his chin when you talk. Jisoo naturally tilts as soon as he feels your lips, as if you've done this a thousand times and it's nothing more than instinct to seek your lips with his own. But you haven't done this before, and even now, he doesn't kiss you, just lets your lips flutter over the edge of his mouth with your words. "Choke me," You whisper against his skin.

"You want me to choke you, sweetheart?" He repeats, both to tease and to make certain that you truly want this.

He wants it, wants it with everything in him but if you say no, he'll back up and do whatever he needs to make sure that you're comfortable, even if it means he leaves the party without you in his passenger seat to drive safely home like he always does.

You nod a little and urge his hand closer to your throat, hoping he'll get the message. The short chuckle he lets out in response puffs against your lips and vibrates from his chest, he's so close to you that you can practically feel it against your own.

"Mm," He hums and traces a gentle path over your cheekbone with the tip of his nose as his fingers and thumb press down in the exact right places, with a sudden pressure that makes your eyes roll back as your hands grip his forearm to support your suddenly weak body as best as you can. Jisoo notices your loss of strength by the way you slide down the wall a little and adjusts his stance so intuitively, nudging his right foot between your feet so that he can shove his thick thigh between your own.

And then he tightens his grip a little more on your throat, the perfect amount of pressure to make your mind empty and your body slump harder against his thigh. His breath blows over your ear as he laughs a condescendingly. When he talks, you can hear the taunting grin in his voice. "Like this?" Just like that, you know that this man is going to ruin you, and you're going to love every fucking second.

Tagging; @okiedokrie

[vivwritesfics]

Fake It Till You Make It

Chapter Seven - The Party Princess... Buys A Car?

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

1.1K

Series Masterlist

The Party Princess... Buys A Car?

The Party Princess is back in Monaco, but it appears as though she has cleaned up her act. The Monaco Press has tried to keep up with her movements, but, truthfully, there hasn't been much to keep up with.

It appears as though she and Formula One driver Charles Leclerc have cleaned each other up for the better.

We are all aware of the princess's history with cars. It was assumed by many in Monaco that the royal family had put her on a ban after she'd crashed her 1963 Volkswagen Beetle.

That's why it came as a shock to us to see the Princess out, shopping for a new car. She was documented visiting Mercedes and Audi dealerships, but didn't appear to be having any luck.

The Princess took to social media to post about the purchase of a new car. It was no surprise that she went for another classic, a 1976 Lancia Scorpion, another movie car to add to her collection.

Charles Leclerc has not yet been seen acknowledging the Princess's new car. We wonder how long it will be until he finally gets her her first Ferrari.

"Cha, I did a thing."

It was a race weekend, one she couldn't attend. But she was still watching from the television in the apartment that she'd started to clean (and she was making progress, too. From the moment they'd gotten back from their little holiday, she began cleaning her apartment. Started with this dishes in the sink and made her way around the room).

"What did you do?" He asked, voice amused.

She practically squealed as she answered. "I bought a Lancia!"

There was a moment where Charles didn't answer, and the smile dropped from her face. "Charles," she said. "Answer me, I beg."

A breathy sort of laugh left his lips. "Chérie," he muttered, voice quiet, kind, and caring. "They rot."

"Shut up," she mumbled. He didn't know that she was currently sat in her Lancia, in the garage beneath her apartment building. "I can pay for someone to look after her for me." She leaned forward against the steering wheel, unable to stop herself from smiling. "I've given her a name.

"What's she called?" Asked Charles.

"Giselle?"

He repeated the name back to her. "Why Giselle?"

She leaned back in her seat. "It's from a movie," she answered and climbed out. "I can't wait for you to meet her."

Charles had to go not long after that. He asked for pictures of Giselle, ones he promised to look at after the race. She stayed sitting in her lovely new car for just a few moments longer, taking a moment to bask in her new purchase. This one she'd take care of, just like she'd tried to do with the rest of her cars. But, this time, she'd do it.

She started her up. Giselle rumbled to life and she drove her out of parking garage.

It wasn't unusual to see odd and extravagant cars around Monaco. But Giselle was something else. She drove around the streets, sunglasses covering her eyes. Cameras were on her, but, for the first time, she didn't much care.

She drove Giselle to the palace. It was a right job getting let in, her car not yet on the list. When she drove up the drive, a member of staff pulled open for door. She tossed him the keys. "Take good care of her," she said and ran up the steps.

It was easy to find Henri, hidden away in his office with his head in his hands. "Hen," she said and sat in the empty seat opposite him. "I think I did it, I think I finally cleaned up my act."

"Great," Henri said with little enthusiasm.

She grabbed her phone from her pocket, pulled up a picture of Giselle and placed it in front of her brother. "She's gorgeous, isn't she?" She began. "Charles says she rots, but I'm gonna take care of her."

Henri released a sigh. "Where the hell did you disappear to last week?" He asked suddenly. "Do you know who has to deal with everything when you disappear? Me! I have to do it. I have so many better things I could be doing with my time!"

"Jeez, Hen. I just got away for a little while. It's not that big a deal," she mumbled and checked her nails. "Besides, it not like you need me for anything."

And, suddenly, Henri was crying. His face was hidden in his hands, but his sobs were undeniable. "Fucking hell, Henri. I was with Charles. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Shut up," he spat between sobs. "You're a spoilt child and you haven't got a clue what's going on."

It was nothing Henri hadn't said to her before, but he'd never said it with such emotion before.

"You have no idea what the real world is like. Our family is already sick of dealing with you, so they dumped you on me. And, guess what, kid? I'm sick of you too!"

Tears sprang to her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. Clearing her throat she stood up. "I know, Henri. I know you're sick of me, you didn't need to tell me."

She stood and strode out of his office. Henri didn't call her back, didn't make any attempt to apologise. Fine, she didn't need her brother. Climbing into Giselle she held her phone to her ear. "C'mon," she mumbled, beginning her drive back to her apartment.

When had Charles become the person she tried to seek comfort from?

She didn't know that Charles had a bad race, didn't know that he was in no mood. He picked up the phone though, if only to tell her just that.

"Charlie," she began, but she didn't get a chance to say much else.

"I can't talk right now," he said quickly, voice low.

But she didn't much care, she needed him. "Charles, please."

But he couldn't hear the sadness in her voice, not past his own anger and annoyance. "Why are you being so needy?" He spat. "I can't fucking talk right now."

She ended the call and threw her phone onto the passenger seat. Pulling over, she buried her face in her hands and cried. Tears ran down her cheeks and she sobbed until her chest hurt.

This day couldn't get any worse, she decided as she drove back to her apartment. She didn't want to speak to anybody. Not Henri, not Charles, not her friends. Nobody.

The news of her father's sickness broke that afternoon.

lol i thought we'd be wrapping up with this story but i guess not lmao also, giselle for reference below

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[seospicybin]

ON TOUR.

PART III: UNPLUGGED.

Hyunjin x reader x Felix. (s,f,a)

Chapters: I. SOUNDCHECK / II. OPENING ACT. / IV. HIDDEN TRACK.

Synopsis: Your best friend, Felix, is in a rock band and he takes you to join him on tour as the band’s photographer. On the road, you learn how to deal with his bandmate, Hyunjin, who’s not very welcoming of you. (14,6k words)

Author's note: It's getting warm y'all. I hope you're ready for get spicy :)

Click here for ON TOUR playlist.

It's no surprise that you'll take it the wrong way.

He was mad not because you accidentally unplugged his guitar but because of how reckless you were. Something way worse could have happened if he wasn't there to catch you, you could have hit your head or got electrocuted.

But of course, he shouldn't worry about you when Felix will always be there to comfort you.

Is it what made him mad? Truthfully, he has no idea but this gnawing feeling is becoming visceral. It's taking over him.

So when he knows you're hiding from him, he has to know why? What is it about you that always drives him mad?

"Why do you hate me so much?" You ask while he's still searching for the answer himself in your eyes.

"Tell me why? Because I don't get it. Why did I do to you that makes you hate me so much?"

You don't know. You're just as clueless as he is.

"I'm drunk, you see? You can tell me anything and that's okay, I won't remember it when I wake up in the morning."

But he needs to know one thing, one thing that he's been dreaming of day and night.

"Go ahead! Tell me! Promise I'd forget all about it tomorrow."

He needs to know now, so he does.

Hyunjin kisses you with a curious mind and an open heart, he lets a part of him pours into you hoping that you'll finally be able to tell the truth.

He holds you close and tenderly, kisses you hungrily because that's what he's been craving whenever those lips curve into a smile. And oh... you taste sweeter than he imagined and addictive and intoxicating, it's heavenly.

He splayed his hand on the beautiful arch of your back and pulls you close, not wanting any space separating his body from yours.

The moan you let slip out of your mouth, you have no idea what it does to him, how that makes the blood rushes down south.

If he's mad, it's because he couldn't kiss you all day and night. But he believes you would take it the wrong way too.

He's worried for you, he cares about you, he thinks about you, he does all that and you still think he hates you. It's only right that he's mad because you think that's what he has for you: hate.

He's also mad because he wants you but you're a friend of a friend.

Hyunjin learned his lesson the hard way and that wakes him up from his daze of being sucked into the whirlpools in your eyes.

He pulls away from the kiss, from the daze, from how your eyes plead for one more kiss. Looking back at those eyes makes him want to tell you everything but there's a good chance that you'd only misunderstand him again.

"Now, try to forget that!" He says right to your face despite knowing it'll be hard for him to do the same thing, not when the taste of your lips only reminds him the reason why he did what he did: he wishes you were a stranger.

-

It's not a great morning.

You've been drinking water non-stop to help with the hangover but you can't shake it off yet. It's a good thing that the agency chartered a private plane instead of putting them on commercial flights. You lowly groan as you climb the steps to get into the plane and see that you're the first to get there. You take the farthest seat, all the way back to avoid everyone but ultimately, him, Hyunjin.

A few minutes later, you hear their arrival and you quickly pull the hoodie over your head to hide your face even though it's pointless to do so.

As they're about to take a seat, Vin takes a stand in the front and tells everyone to pay attention to him as he's about to make an announcement.

Of course it's not just an announcement, he's going to scold everyone for going out without his permission.

"Whose idea was it?"

You wince because the idea originated from how they felt bad for you which makes it, technically, your idea. It's hard to admit that you're wrong but you slowly raise your hand to...

"It was me!" Han calmly says.

Everyone stays silent for a moment but Felix raises his hand and says, "But all of us agreed to go," he adds.

That is partly true. Han didn't ask for anyone's approval but yes, everyone just went along with him. Problem aside, it surprised you how Felix lied and it sounded natural, maybe he did change but you didn't know which part of him stays the same.

Vin continues to scold everyone with something along the lines of 'reckless behavior', and 'an important part of your career'. Knowing that those are not aimed toward you and with the hangover weighing your head and the lack of sleep, you start disassociating...

As your mind drifts, it takes you to last night when Hyunjin kissed you against the wall.

"Ugh!" You groan unintentionally loud that everyone is looking at you.

"You have something to say?" Vin asks.

You scratch the back of your head in confusion while trying to think of an answer, "I'm very sorry," you tell him, putting on a sad face as best as you could. Good thing that the hangover supported the look.

After hours of flight, you have to take an hour-long of car ride since the festival is taking place on farmland in the countryside.

It's summer but it's drizzling when you arrived at the hotel or more like a bed and breakfast than a hotel and for the first time, you finally get your own room.

You throw yourself onto the bed and sigh in delight as your head touches the pillow. Man... this is heaven!

The knocking on the door disturbs the peaceful moment. For a second, you feel like pretending not to hear that so whoever is behind that door can leave you alone.

"Are you inside?"

At the sound of his voice, you rush to get up the bed and open the door.

"Yes?" Your vision is a bit blurry from getting up too fast but you see Vin standing there looking serious as usual.

"Follow me, we have a meeting!" He orders, already turning to leave.

He's always like that, making orders without telling you the details. You have zero ideas what the meeting will be about, for all you know, it could be about something else. Imagine how sad it would be if you bring your stuff only for him to tell you that you got fired.

From the doorway of your room, you nervously ask him, "Should I bring my laptop or—"

Vin is about to take the stairs to the second floor when you asked, he looks down at you and says, "Of course!"

The answer is still vague but you quickly grab your laptop and phone, heading upstairs to the small living room where Vin has set his laptop for a Zoom meeting.

It seems that it's not going to be a great day as well, you're not getting fired. At least, not today.

-

Ssick will be headlining the second day of the festival which is tomorrow night.

Hyunjin is getting ready for the band rehearsal and heads downstairs, stopping for a second to see the door of your room closed shut.

Felix and Lou are already downstairs, having coffee in the kitchen even though they have twenty minutes or so before they have to go to a studio nearby.

"Coffee?" Lou offers.

"Sure," Hyunjin answers because when it comes to caffeine, it will never be enough for him.

He pulls a chair next to Felix and sits on it, "Where's Han?"

"He's working on a track, he'll be down in a few minutes," Lou replies as he carefully brings a cup of coffee for Hyunjin.

Felix and Hyunjin exchange a glance, knowing that a few minutes for Han takes more than that.

As if Han heard their thoughts, he lands on the base of the stairs a few minutes later as promised. He got greeted by Hyunjin and Felix's shocked expressions.

"I thought we have band rehearsal in five?" He comes to the dining table and grabs a biscuit Felix is eating.

"I'll get the car," Lou says, getting out of the house to get the car ready.

Lou pulls the car close to the front of the house and Hyunjin gets in after Felix and Han, looking back for a while waiting for someone else to come out.

Felix gets ahead of Hyunjin, asking Lou about you and Vin not coming.

Lou starts driving while talking, "They're in a meeting. Vin said he will catch up soon."

Hyunjin shouldn't be this disappointed to not be able to see you but Gosh, he can't hide it, he wishes to see you.

When he gets back from rehearsal, he walks past your room and he knows you're in there, somehow he can't bring himself to knock on your door.

At the end of the day, his wish stays a wish.

‐

Vin is right.

After finishing the meeting, you had a quick dinner with Vin in the kitchen with the food sent by the kind owner of the bed & breakfast.

He must have felt bad for making you work right after hours long of flight without stopping that he made you go to bed early so you'll be prepared for the job.

11 hours of sleep is really what you needed that you woke up feeling refreshed and ready for today. You'll not be taking just any photos, a magazine wants to do a special coverage for Ssick and they'll be using your photographs.

Since no one has woken up yet, you take a quick stroll around the small village, and apparently, the other performers also staying in the nearest inn or hotel.

"Morning!" A guy greets you as he joins you on your stroll, dressed in a windbreaker with a hoodie pulled over his head.

It feels awkward to interact with other people, guess you've been cooped up in the tour bus too long.

"Morning!" You greet back, slipping your hands inside your coat as you walk through the cold, misty morning.

"You're not from here are you?"

You shake your head, "No."

"You must be with someone?" He asks while matching his pace with you.

"Not really," you answer and you're aware that sounds so vague, "I'm with a band."

He lowly exclaims, "I'm with a band too," he says.

Grabbing his hoodie from being blown by the wind, he turns his head at you and asks, "What band?"

"Ssick," you answer.

"I'm their photographer," you add before he gets the wrong idea, thinking that you're a groupie or something.

"Cool!" He coyly comments.

Through the fog, you can see the bed and breakfast you're staying in with the garden lamp blinking low.

"I'm here," you tell the stranger.

You've just realized you didn't ask for his name when you tell him that but it's too late to ask now that you're leaving.

He glances at you and smiles, "Okay, see you then!"

"See you!" You say back even though you're not sure you'd see him again.

Vin is having a coffee in the kitchen, he doesn't bother to take a seat as his fingers are furiously typing his phone screen.

"Morning!" You greet him.

He doesn't look up but greets back, "How was your sleep?"

"So tight," you reply, taking a mug from the cabinet to pour yourself a cup of coffee.

"Why are you guys talking about being 'so tight' in the morning?" Lou asks from the stairs with his half-shut eyes.

You and Vin burst into laughs, he finally takes a seat at the dining table. Lou also plops onto the empty seat next to him. Breakfast is quiet and it's all thanks to the owner who cooked it deliciously.

"I'll be leaving in fifteen minutes and you," he points at Lou, "take the kids in the afternoon."

You lean against the kitchen counter and think of going with Vin instead of Lou, you don't want to stay still here when you have a lot of things to prepare.

"Can I go with you instead?" You ask Vin.

"Sure," he shortly replies.

In the 10 minutes he gave you, you pack everything you need into a backpack and do not forget your rain boots just in case it will rain as the weather app on your phone predicted.

It only takes ten minutes of car ride to get there, Vin hands you a pass at the entrance. You didn't know that it's a lot pleasant going with Vin, he's so well known that everyone doesn't ask for his ID and greets him warmly.

He takes you to a trailer which will be the band's green room, they even set a little yard outside the trailer with lounge chairs and a parasol.

"You might need this," he gives you a map of the festival with the setlist of performers on the back.

"The festival is so big so don't wander too far," he warns you.

Vin steps out of the trailer as his phone constantly beeping with notifications.

You follow him out of the door, "are you going?"

"Well... yeah," he answers like it isn't obvious enough, "I have to take care of a few things."

You didn't know why you ask him that when that's what he's been doing, going around and taking care of things. You feel stupid for thinking that he came here early just to laze around.

"You can come with me if you want," he offers.

"Can I?" You must have looked like a puppy when you asked him.

He shrugs and walks to the yard, "I can introduce you to some friends," he says.

They're not just some friends.

Vin takes you around the festival grounds, meeting some officials and going around the tents and trailers of the other performers of the festival.

He knows a lot of people, famous or not, but important nonetheless. You even took a few snaps of it because when else you'll get another chance like this?

Vin is again right about the festival being incredibly big, you wouldn't know your way around if you weren't with him. The festival starts at noon with the festival ground gradually crowded with people.

"Want to check a stage?" Vin asks after successfully snatching two burritos for lunch from a band's waiting room.

"Absolutely!" you excitedly answer.

The security lets Vin in without question, they don't even bat an eyelash at yours since you're coming with him.

It's fascinating to know the inside scoop of his job and get to know him more in the process. The Vin that you know is a little uptight and always serious but from the way you've seen how people greeted him warmly, he's so much more than his job.

Hours passed by because of how far it gets from one place to the other, Vin gets you to visit another stage as a band he knows about to play.

"I was once their manager," Vin whispers at you as he gets to the back of the stage with you following him closely from behind.

The band is warming up when Vin makes an appearance and they're delighted to see him, exchanging hugs and jokes, making you feel left out for a bit until someone recognizes you.

"I know you," he says.

You recognize him as the guy who took a stroll with you this morning, he looks unrecognizable without his raincoat and the mist.

Vin turns around to introduce you, "she's working for the band and..." He then introduces him to you, "This is Jeongin!"

You take a step forward to shake hands with him and he smiles at you so warmly that dimples appeared on his cheeks.

"Would love to talk more but we have to get on the stage," he says.

"Oh sure, please don't make them wait," you almost wince at how stupid you sounded as if they would delay their performance just to talk to you.

You and Vin watching their performance together from the side of the stage. On their second song, Vin excuses himself because the band has arrived from the text message he got from Lou.

"You can stay," he tells you.

"But—"

"It's okay, you can stay," he assures you.

You nod because it's useless to answer him against the loud music playing.

"Have fun!" He adds with a squeeze on your shoulder.

As you turn to watch the band again, you see Jeongin looking at you.

-

Hyunjin sees the camera bag but not the owner.

He can't get any hints about your whereabouts either as Lou is going out of the trailer as soon as he received a message from Vin.

"Vin will be here so please, don't set anything on fire!" Lou warns them.

When he thought Han only left for the bathroom, he went with Lou to God knows where. It shouldn't upset him but everyone is leaving without telling him, only Felix is staying in the trailer with him.

He senses Hyunjin is getting antsy from the way his knee is bouncing despite he is slouching on the sofa.

"They're at the D stage," Felix informs as he got a reply from Lou telling him where they are.

"Do you want to go?"

Hyunjin tries to act nonchalant about it but can't wait to get out of there as well, "yeah, okay," he coyly says.

He can only hope that the beanie he's wearing is enough to hide his red hair, he kind of regrets it now for dying it with such bright color.

It's easy to tell that a few people recognize him, not when Felix is also with him and making it easier for them to know for certain that it's them.

Luckily, most of them decided to leave them be. Felix calls Lou once again to know their exact location while Hyunjin is craning his neck looking for them around the stage.

The second Hyunjin spots Lou's bleached buzzed hair, he points at the pit after the barricade and shouts, "There they are!" 

He lets Felix takes the lead, running to where Han and Lou are watching a band's performance. Hyunjin swallows air because he knows you're also there.

Instead of you, he finds someone else. It's too late to avoid her as she looks his way.

"Hyunjin?" She calls.

Felix also heard her calling for Hyunjin, he turns to Hyunjin and asks, "Who is she?"

It's someone he wishes not to see.

-

Ssick's stage starts at 9.

Vin insists that everyone must gather at the trailer at 8.15 at the latest and you're 5 minutes late. Running from the gate to the trailer after getting lost in the mud and walking in it isn't easy either.

You can feel beads of sweat on your back but keep running to the trailer, the golf car that you assume will be used to take the band there is parked outside the trailer.

"I'm sorry, I'm late!" You blurt out the moment you get into the trailer.

You're so ready to get scolded but the only person you found inside is Vin, a hand on his waist and the other is pressing his phone close to his ear.

"I told you to take them here by 8," he nags into the phone.

It's safe to assume that it's Lou or any of the band members, whoever that is, hope they're doing okay. You silently take your camera bag from the countertop and sling the strap around your shoulder.

"You," Vin points at you.

"Yes?" You shortly reply with horror in your eyes.

"You can go first," he says.

You stifle a nod and go outside, it's not the time to ask for details so you get on the golf car per his instruction, no questions asked.

Thanking the driver before they head back to pick up the band, you prepare your camera as the staff still working on setting the stage despite the crowd filling the ground.

You take a peek from the side of the stage and instantly get goosebumps, there are so many people, all the way to the back, as far as your eyes can see.

They're so big, so popular, it's a time like this that you feel grateful for your job.

The stage itself is so big that you get tired from taking a walk around the front, you take a few pictures of the crowd behind the barricade and ones with interesting banners or costumes.

A few minutes before the stage starts, rain is pouring and you quickly go to the back of the stage to grab two disposable raincoats, one you wrapped around your camera and you put the other one on you.

Tonight will be one for history. Not trying to pressure yourself, but the pictures you're taking today will be published in a magazine.

The band takes the stage at 9.10 due to the weather check but fortunately, the rain turns into light showers, therefore they're allowed to perform.

Despite the weather and the ground turning into a pit of mud and puddles, the crowd becomes alive once they opened the stage with two songs non-stop until they get to their introduction.

"Hello, we're Ssick!" Han speaks into the mic.

He wipes the sweat on his forehead and brushes the hair curtained his face to the back, "Thank you for choosing to have fun with us in the rain!"

The crowd cheers, ignoring their heads and clothes that are sopping wet from the rain and you can feel their enthusiasm, how they're having fun without care.

You can stay down the pit long because Felix's solo is coming up soon, dragging your feet in the mud. You climb to the stage fast.

Unlike the last time, you coordinated it well with Lou. He'll guide you from behind as you take their pictures on the stage. Lou grabs a fistful of the back of your t-shirt while muttering cautions, "Be careful with the cables!"

You listen to him with your hand rapidly taking pictures from different angles. Your heart is pounding as the music roaring loud that there's no time to get personal when it comes to capturing Hyunjin in pictures, turning everyone's heads to see his nimble fingers on the guitar.

That feels like a second when you spent four minutes on the stage. Lou pulls you back to the side of the stage and you only realized then that a few people are watching the show from here.

Just like you predicted, it's one of the most memorable of all the stages they've done. They're so reluctant to get off the stage even though the night is late and from dark shadows hanging in the sky, it seems likely that the rain will pour again.

The band is celebrating their successful night headlining festival inside the big tent right behind the stage, so many people coming, famous and important.

You see the girl you saw earlier, she is one that you recognized watched the band from the side of the stage.

As you threw the disposable raincoats into the bin, Lou comes to you with a bottle of water.

"Thank you," you mutter, taking it from him and not wasting another second to gulp it.

He hands you a towel next, using it to dry your hair and neck, brushing your damp hair from the mix of sweat and rainwater with your finger to put them into place after.

"So many people," you mutter under your breath.

Lou shrugs as he takes a sip of his beer, "well, they're famous," he simply says.

You steal a sip of his beer and gasp, "Can't relate to that."

From across the tent, you see the girl making her way to Hyunjin and starts talking to him. You don't want to know but you know you can't rest well without knowing who she is.

"Who is she?" You ask without looking at their direction as they're engaged in a conversation.

You take a bottle of beer from the cooler and uncap it, even though you're not a fan, today is an exception.

"You know that Hyunjin was in a band before Ssick, right?"

You nod and take a sip of the finely chilled beer.

"Rumor has it that he decided to quit the band because he and the vocalist fought over a girl," Lou explains with a subtle sly smile.

You scoff in disbelief, "Let me guess... she is the girl?"

Lou repeatedly nods, slyly smiling even when he's sipping his beer.

"So it's not the finale yet?" You playfully ask.

"Kind of," he replies.

So Hyunjin is hung up on a girl or is it the other way around? You don't want to know. You're already having a hard time doing what he asked you to do and that is to forget that stupid kiss.

That doesn't seem like a hard task now that you know he has a girl in his mind.

You take another look at them, talking to each other with eyes that also speak so much. Your eyes drift to Felix who's standing next to Hyunjin, also looking like he doesn't seem to fancy her as much.

You finish your beer and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "I'm going to the trailer. I need to wash up," you tell Lou.

"Want me to come with you?" Lou offers.

"Nah, I'll be back soon," you tell him.

Using the flashlight on your phone only helps so much with the muddy grassy path back to the trailer. It feels so close when you took the ride with the golf car, now you wish you took Lou's offer.

Taking a moment in the trailer, you struggle to take off your rainboots and wet clothes. You grab a sweater from the merch box and put it on, you're no longer shivering with dry clothes on.

Now that you're comfortable, you don't want to go back to the tent. You'd rather stay in the trailer and starts working on your photos, you're not trying to avoid a person or something. It's just been a tiring day already and...

"Hey, why aren't you partying?"

You search for the source of the voice and find Jeongin shouting from inside the car. He sees you standing in the doorway of the trailer with your camera bag, looking ready to go. You hope he doesn't see the conflicted feelings in your eyes.

"Do you need a lift?"

Without you realizing it, you nod at his offer and his dimpled smile.

-

Hyunjin's wish to see you is not yet granted.

Well, yes, he saw you taking his pictures but he couldn't see your face or heard your voice. He only got glimpses when he wanted to see the whole picture and stares at it as long as he could.

"She said she'll be back soon," Lou sounded worried as he ranted to Vin about you not coming back to the tent yet.

"I saw her leaving with the Cle boys," Vin calmly answers as if he just didn't let you go with a group of guys you don't know.

"What?" Felix is the first to show his concern at how wrong that sounded, "what do you mean she left with another band?"

And Felix rarely gets mad, not even at the slightest inconvenience.

"They're all good kids," Vin assures them, "also, they knew each other when I introduced them," he adds.

"Knew each other?" Felix once again represents Hyunjin by asking the question.

Vin turns at him and put his phone away, "look, I know their mothers. I'm sure they just hanging out or something," he says.

"Let's just go," Han breaks the intense conversation with exhaustion drawn on his face.

Hyunjin feels uneasy. He can't rest well even when you're in sight but now, no one knows where you are and you're with people that he doesn't know and it stressed him out that he has to hide his concern.

Hyunjin can only ball his hands into fists on his lap, worrying you and worrying about things that could happen.

It surprises him that Hyunjin isn't the only one worrying about you, well, besides Felix. Han is calling your name the moment he enters the bed and breakfast where they're staying.

"She's not here!" Han says as he checks your room and it's empty.

Vin heavily sighs, "she's going to be okay," he insists when he's unsure of his answer as well.

Lou calls you on the phone but you're not answering. He calls you again and still no answers. Everyone starts to panic and Hyunjin can only watch, getting nervous as time passes with no clues of your whereabouts.

"You guys can rest. Lou and I will search for her," Vin resolves as he puts his jacket back on.

Hyunjin stays where he is and the others too, no one is obeying Vin. He draws a sharp breath through his nostrils and is about to scold them again for the third time today when they collectively heard footsteps coming from the stairs.

"You guys are back?" You innocently ask with your hair wrapped in a towel and a toothbrush in hand.

Lou starts to laugh while Felix comes to pick you up at the base of the stairs, "where have you been?" His voice is strained from holding his anger in.

"I had to use the bathroom upstairs. The hot water not coming out from the one downstairs," you answer while going down the stairs. Felix pulls you into his hug as you remain confused about the situation.

Hyunjin's body relaxed as he quietly lets out a sigh of relief and finally have his wish granted.

Han picks up his bag from the floor and heads for the stairs, "I really thought you turn to become a groupie for another band," he jokingly says.

You get even more confused with what he said, "huh?"

Vin rubs his forehead and closes the door, "I told you. She's fine," he mutters as he takes his jacket off again.

You hold hands with Felix, taking him to the kitchen to talk, "what happened?"

Felix puts his hands on the dining table to support him, "Vin saw you left with the other..." he doesn't finish his sentence, "Nevermind. We're glad you're okay."

Your mouth parts open in surprise, certainly didn't expect them to worry this much for you.

"They gave me a lift here so I could start early on retouching the photos for the magazine," you concisely explain.

Hyunjin is listening to your conversation when Vin grabs him by the arm, taking him upstairs with him, "Let's get some rest. We have an early flight tomorrow!"

Hyunjin has seen you and he has heard your voice, but it's not enough. It'll never be enough.

He's afraid that as each day passes, he wants more than just seeing and hearing.

-

Back on the tour bus, it feels like going back home when in fact, the tour bus gives you a sense of comfort like home, while in fact, it's not.

Also, you're getting used to a lot of things and the staffs know you now that you got greeted everywhere you go. The people you're with feel more than just acquaintances and coworkers, they feel like one big unit. Maybe that's just the result of what happens when you put people in a moving, confined space together for a period of time.

Looking back at it, you were so skeptical about this job, your skill, and your ability to handle life on the road. Now, you feel proud of yourself for overcoming those struggles.

The bad and the good that happened are lessons that you must learn to be able to grow as a person.

There are only a few stops left on the tour and your heart is aching that this is going to end soon. It makes you hold on to it tighter than before. Especially knowing that soon, all of these will become memories.

This, the present, will soon become a part of that precious memories too.

You're on your way back from soundcheck when you meet Vin right outside the door, "I got something for you," he says.

You uneasily smile because that's an unlikely thing for him to say, "Y-yeah?"

He puts his arm around your shoulder and gets into the green room together. From the table, he takes a magazine and flips open to a page, once he found what he's looking for, he shows it to you.

It's so surreal that it feels like seeing a dream, you take the magazine from him and see it yourself. The photos you took at the festival are there, printed on paper. In the corner of the page, you see your name printed in small fonts.

"You did a good job!" Vin proudly says with a squeeze on your shoulder.

You can't help but smile, feeling proud of yourself and for once, receiving a compliment from Vin validated it.

"Drinks on me tonight!" He adds before leaving you to furtherly admire your work on your own.

Happy news should be shared, you're going around the room looking for the one person you can think of in a moment like this. You find him near the changing room with the stylist doing alterations to his jeans.

"Felix!"

"Hey, what's up?" He looks up to see you.

Without saying anything, you show him the magazine with a wide grin on your face.

He leans in close to see and coos in awe, "Whoa, I look so good in here," he points to the picture of him on the page.

Your grin fades and is replaced with an annoyed glare, "This is about me, not you," you tell him.

He bursts into laughter and holds his hand out at you, he can't move with the stylist still adjusting the length of his jeans while squatting down next to his feet.

You take his hand and let him place a kiss on your hand, "congrats, babe!"

Felix knows how to win you over with such a simple gesture, you know he's the right person to share this happiness with. Not forgetting that he's the one who landed you this job. That makes you grateful for him.

"Is this why Vin looks exceptionally happy today?" Lou asks as he flips open the magazine to see it.

You're drinking a can of cola while sitting next to him on the sofa.

"He said he'll be taking us out for drinks tonight," you say.

He whistles in excitement, "It's about time!"

Han snatches the magazine away from him and sees it for himself, "oh, your photos are really great!"

You can't help but smile, "thank you," you sheepishly reply.

Felix appears behind you and casually places a kiss on the top of your head, "that's my girl!" He confidently brags, then walks back to his chair to get his make-up done,

Han aggressively shuts the magazine and slaps it on the table, "excuse me, she's not only taking your photos," he complains.

Han moves to sit next to you and put his arm around your shoulder, there he continues speaking, "Which makes her, respectfully, our girl, not yours."

Lou also put his arm around your shoulder and agrees with Han's remark, "Our girl!"

You're laughing at the way Lou and Han are teasing you by trapping you between them, oblivious that there's someone who has no say in this.

-

Our girl?

Hyunjin likes to hear that, that means you are his too even if it's only a quarter of it. Maybe that's why he's only able to see you. But when it comes to talking to you, even just a simple exchange of good morning like you do with Vin. He's discouraged, afraid that you'd misunderstand him again.

Still... he wants more than just to see and talk.

He wants that pretty smile to greet him as he gets off the stage like you always give to Felix, a pat on the shoulder as you endearingly tell him, "You were so great as always!"

Is that too much to ask for?

There are only a few stops left on the tour and he feels like he's running out of time but what he needs to do is still unclear.

"Hyunjin?"

Someone calls for him and he turns around to find someone he wishes not to see, making her way to him.

"Why are you here?" He's not aware of how rude that sounded but that's the first thing that crossed his head at the sight of her.

The girl whom he likes once, who is a friend of a friend and she got in between their friendship. If there's one thing Hyunjin learned from this, to never like a girl who's a friend of a friend because, in the end, he could lose both the friendship and love.

She chuckles at Hyunjin's defensive response, "I was in town for a job so... I don't see why I shouldn't come," she answers.

It was two weeks ago that they met at the festival and she was there because her boyfriend, a friend and a former bandmate of Hyunjin, performing at the festival too.

But the main reason why he doesn't want to see her again is because Hyunjin chose to step away from it, he gave her up to save at least his friendship. That too, he couldn't save it.

There's no regret because Hyunjin knows it's for the best. So, he doesn't get why she's here.

From the way her smile wavers, Hyunjin senses that she knows she's not welcomed.

Felix comes behind him, "Come on! Vin is going to treat us to drinks tonight!" He excitedly says to Hyunjin.

It takes Felix a moment to realize that there's someone else there and a low gasp slipped out of him, "Oh...?"

"Well, I'm certainly not invited," She playfully remarks with a sad smile.

Hyunjin is not that petty but he wishes that he can be firm, telling her no would be the right choice.

"What are you guys doing? Let's go!" Vin shouts from the end of the hallway.

Then again, Hyunjin can't bring himself to say no, "You—"

Felix cuts through Hyunjin's words, "We'd love to invite you but it's for close people only so..."

She sheepishly smiles and nods, "it's alright," she says.

People are prone to Felix's charm and Hyunjin is thankful that Felix decided to step in and politely reject her on his behalf, it makes things easier for him.

"But we hope you enjoyed the concert," Felix quickly adds.

"I did. I had so much fun," she responds.

She fiddles with the strap of her bag, having something to say to Hyunjin but can't say it with Felix in there.

He senses it and excuses himself to leave first.

"Hyunjin," she calls.

He doesn't answer but looks at her, how her eyes are looking back at him but not giving the same effects as they used to.

Hyunjin doesn't need to hear another one of her efforts to make her way in, "listen," he says.

"I made my choice and you know what? I like where it took me," he explains.

That catches her off guard, maybe didn't expect Hyunjin to reject her right here, right now.

Hyunjin places his hand on her shoulder, "I'm afraid there's no second chance for us," he softly speaks to her.

Her eyes turn glossy the longer he looks at them but also in them, he can see everything clearly for the first time.

She sniffles and says, "But Hyunjin—"

"I like someone else," he blurts out and he's sure of what he said, sure that it's what he feels for you. He likes you, he wants you.

That sounds final to her that she has nothing to say back to him but leave for good. It's sad that Hyunjin has failed his first love but isn't that why it's called first love? Because there'll be a next one.

Hyunjin wants to do better on the next one and he knows what to do now.

-

Vin doesn't play around when he says he's treating everyone to drinks.

He takes everyone to the hotel bar which is located on the 8th floor of the hotel, providing its visitors with a stunning view of the city at night.

"We have finished more than fourteen concerts in nine cities and one festival this summer," Vin says, standing at the end of the table with a drink in his hand.

"I'd like to thank everyone for behaving..." he pauses for a second, changing his mind about what he wanted to say, "not so well but still manageable," he finally finishes.

He turns at you who sits between Felix and Lou on the left side of the table, "and our new addition to the bunch..."

You smile at him, curious about what he has to say about you.

"I realize that I never get to tell you how you've been very patient with me, us...." a wave of laughter halts him from continuing.

"Despite that, I am grateful that you're part of the team and I want to tell you that you've been working hard," he earnestly says.

It's the first time you heard him talking from the deep down of his heart that it elicits an emotional response from you. You feel validated and appreciated, you feel seen and heard, acknowledged.

"Come here!" He gestures for you to come to his side.

You get up from your seat with the help of Felix pulling the chair for you, then take a stand next to Vin.

"This is for you, for putting up with us," he raises his glass.

And everyone followed suit, raising their glasses in the air.

"And for four more shows to go!" He adds.

"To our girl!" Han shouts from across the table.

You laugh because he's not letting go of the debate.

But Vin repeated his words back to everyone at the table, "To our girl!"

With that being said, everyone is finally allowed to drink their picks of alcohol. You drink yours as well and wince at the burning feeling down your throat as you swallowed it all.

Vin pulls you into a side hug, "Have a lot of drinks tonight. You deserve it!"

You chuckle at his words, "thank you," you mutter to him.

That indeed sounds so tempting, you would love to keep drinking and have fun after a little while.

But the last time you got drunk, it didn't end that well. You want to avoid making the same mistake, so you decide to drink moderately and try not to think of Hyunjin, how he talked to that girl in the hallway with his hand on her shoulder, how you failed to do what Hyunjin asked you to do.

That fucking kiss, you curse inside your head and finish your first drink of the night.

Somehow on the third drink, the melancholic feeling that this soon will be over returns, hitting you with a wave of sadness that you have a hard time swallowing your drink.

"Have another one with me," Lou says, refilling your glass with more drink.

"It's the last one for me," you inform him.

He laughs as he slides the drink at you, "yeah, sure," he says with a sly smirk.

You might have lied about that being the last drink, you have two more drinks after and alternate it with soda in between.

It's a good strategy, you feel like a real adult for being sober enough to walk back to your hotel room while Lou has to send Han back to his room, drunk out of his mind.

The sight of the mess on the table distracts you, your initial plan is to end the day right here. No one asks you to do anything today, not even Vin.

"Ugh!" You groan, losing the battle to remain unbothered about not finishing your work of the day.

It's a habit that you created yourself and you suffer from it now.

I should have gotten drunk, you scold yourself.

There's a knock on the door, it must be Lou coming back from putting his best friend to sleep. You open the door without looking and walk back to the desk, "I'll be working all night. You can have the bed," you tell him.

You hear no answer but the sound of the door being closed behind you.

A while later, someone else replies to you, "You don't have to worry, he'll be sleeping in my room tonight."

Who did you let in just now? You know who it is but you refuse to believe that you're right. You take a deep breath before bracing yourself to the grand reveal, that it's him, Hyunjin.

"What are you doing here?" You have the right to be defensive, considering that it's your room, the only private space you have and he came here uninvited.

"I want to talk to you," he calmly replies.

You get up from your chair as he's coming closer and leans against the headrest of the chair.

"About what?"

"About us," he shortly replies.

Your heart starts beating so fast and you don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing it, you clear your throat before speaking again.

"I don't think we have something to talk about," you hope he didn't hear how your voice quivers at the end of the sentence.

"Oh, we do," he says while still walking towards you even though he's close enough that you have to start looking up to look at him due to the height difference.

You're not in the mood for his unfriendly words and glares, "We can talk some other time—"

"I want you to know that I have nothing between me and that girl," he says, sharing information that you don't even ask in the first place.

You hold your hands up to stop him from continuing and furtherly thinking that you want to know the truth.

"No, I don't care. I don't want to know," you tell him as best as you can without having to be rude because that's his thing, not yours.

He takes another step closer, eliminating the gap between your bodies and leaving mere inches for you to breathe. How can you think if you can see his beautiful face this close that you can see the tiny mole under his left eye? How can you force your brain to work it's busy playing the recollection of that night in the back of your head, haunting you with how soft his lips feel against yours.

"I want you to know. I want you..." he emphasizes the word you with an intense stare, "to care. I want you to be jealous," he insists his narrative on you and wanted it to be true.

That sounds just so absurd coming from him and it's making you burst into laughter. The most careful and reserved person you ever come across said that. You feel bad to let him know that you could be anything but jealous. In terms of look, yeah, you're jealous that she's much prettier than you but jealous because she's with him...

"I am not jealous," you tell him with a scoff, but that doesn't sound convincing, that sounded like you're offended instead.

"Why should I be jealous? I-I'm—" You lose track of what you're going to say to him. You wince at how you make yourself look like a fool in front of him.

"Our kiss... did you manage to forget it?" He cuts you off with a question that you don't have the answer to.

Slightly tipping his head, Hyunjin leans a little closer to the side of your head you can feel his breath fanning your cheek.

Needing something to hold on to, you grip the edge of the chair behind your back, tightly.

"Why do you care so much whether I forgot about it or not?" Your voice is shaky and small.

He slyly smiles and it looks good on him as if he knows it would scramble your brain, making it hard for you to stay focused. In other words, he knows he's winning.

"If you forgot about it then..." he puts his hand under your chin and angles your head, forcing you to look at him right in the eyes.

"I just have to remind you again," he softly speaks as it takes everything in him to try not to kiss you from the moment he laid your eyes on you.

Now that he leans in closer than before and you can feel his warm breath brushing your lips. As much as you don't want to be reminded, you close your eyes in anticipation of what's coming at you.

As your lips collide in a rapturous, spellbinding kiss that takes your breath away but at the same time, breathes life into you.

Hyunjin kisses you tenderly, savoring the taste that he craves so much. He kisses you slowly because that's how he should treat a beautiful thing.

And a beautiful thing is always fragile. 

-

Hyunjin is drunk from your scent.

That doesn't stop him from planting kisses on any skin he can land his lips on, soft on soft, like kissing a flower. No words are needed when his desire is taking control of his body and your body answers to his craving.

He uses his hand to feel you all over, fingertips trailing every inch of your skin that makes him whimper under his breath.

You're much softer than he imagined, silky soft, and warm, so sensitive to his touch, shivering every time he touches you in certain places.

He can feel your hesitant yet curious hands exploring his body, slowly and gently, like you're afraid it would discomfort him. Oh, if only you know how much he likes being touched by your pretty hands. He takes them and kisses each fingertip with his lips right in front of you.

"You're so soft," he softly sighs as he pushes your hand close to his cheek, then places a tender kiss on the inside of your hand.

You look at him with your eyes in a daze, probably thinking that it was all just a dream.

So he leans in and kisses you for the umpteenth time that night, carefully putting his body on top of you, skin on skin, his body on your body, becoming one under the cover.

As he pulls away from the kiss, he puts his elbow against the mattress to take a good look at you. His thumb wipes your lips, still amazed at how soft they feel.

It tempts him to place another kiss and they're softer against his lips, he feels like kissing the clouds.

"How come you're so soft?" He asks in pure wonder.

All Hyunjin knows is loud and rough, all he's been touching are metal strings and hard surfaces, and his ears are used to buzzing noises and explosive sounds.

Now that he lays his hand on you, he knows that you're something that he should treat gently, with so much tenderness and care, he doesn't want to break such a beautiful thing with his hands that only knows how to push things to the limit.

He gently rubs your cheek with his knuckle, heating under his touch. He leans in to kiss you again, having no power in him to stop himself, he believes kissing you has become an addiction.

He's only an inch away from your lips when you open your mouth to say, "But you hate me..." 

Hyunjin smiles because he has expected to hear this from you, sooner or later, he didn't know you would choose to say this when he's about to kiss you.

"I do hate you," he says.

Your eyes widened at his answer while Hyunjin softly chuckled from seeing your reaction.

"I hate you for thinking that's the only thing I feel for you," he explains.

He takes your hand and puts it around his neck, he wants your soft hand touching him, feeling him, all over. Leaning down closer, leaving only an inch between your faces.

"I feel other things too for you. I like you from the moment we met, I care for you, I worry about you, I think of you, sleep or awake. I like having you around me, I like seeing you everywhere I look and when I'm not looking, I unconsciously search for you. I am... pathetically in love with you," he pours every content of his heart, everything that you need to know.

Your gaze softens and it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, like watching the sun rises in your eyes, hopeful and warm.

"But you have no idea, do you?" He says with his eyes deeply staring into yours.

"How would I know when you always seemed to be mad at me?" You innocently ask him back.

That makes Hyunjin chuckles. He admits that his way of showing you affection is unconventional. What can he say? He's bad at it. But he likes how innocent you sound that he hastily kisses your lips, he then draws a sharp breath and lets out a pleasant sigh, "What do you even know?"

He can't wait to kiss you again so he does, indulging himself in the temptation and how sweet it tastes. The hand that is slipping into the back of his head puts him in utmost comfort.

Hyunjin hasn't seen your body with his eyes but he can picture in his hand from his exploration, the nook and crook, the dips and curves, he admires all of it.

Beautiful would be an understatement but that's what you are. Your eyes, your smile, your lips, the birthmark on your body, the scars that marked your skin, your little fingers, everything.

His hand goes to where he wants to touch you, to show you what he can do, to make you feel good, to...

"Hyunjin..."

You call him again in a heating moment where he unconsciously holds his breath for only God knows how long.

His first thought is that you don't want to do it. It's entirely his fault for reading the signs wrong. He hurriedly draws his hand out from under the cover.

"We don't have to do it if you don't want to," he assures you with a sweet kiss on your lips.

With your hand around his neck, you keep him close and then you whisper into his ear, "Condoms are in the bathroom."

You hide half of your face under the cover, flustered from telling him about it. He finds it adorable that he wants to take a bite of you.

"I'll go get it," he says, doesn't waste time walking to the bathroom to get it. He spots your toiletry bag near the sink, rummaging inside to take two foil packs.

When he returns, you're waiting on the bed while clutching the bed cover to your chest. Hyunjin sits at the edge of the bed to open one and securely rolled the rubber down his length.

It slightly surprises him that you greet him with a kiss as he gets under the cover, he takes it that you begin to relax around him.

That means he's on the right way so he kisses you back, hungrily and intensely with his hand squeezing the flesh on your waist. He gives you a moment to make yourself comfortable around him before letting his hand wander down south.

You part your legs open for him and let him touch you there, touching the delicate flesh that's already wet even though he hasn't started yet.

He's aware of how rough his hand is, he attentively watches your face to make sure you're uncomfortable with the way he touches you.

That doesn't enough for him, he needs to know for sure. "Good?" He asks against your lips.

You pull away just enough to give him a nod of confirmation.

More kisses, more touches later, his hand is drenched in your essence and his cock is throbbing, impatient to be inside you.

Hyunjin decides to hover above you without taking his lips off of you. He takes his hand away from your cunt and rubs your lips with his fingers coated with your juice, doesn't hesitate to kiss you next.

Oh, he can taste all of you in that kiss and it's so fucking sweet. He gasps when he lets go of the kiss.

It's driving him wild, making him so eager to be inside you. He slips his hand under the cover and slowly, exposes your body as he puts the cover away.

"Beautiful..." he murmurs as his eyes are feasting on your heavenly body.

Maybe this is why you kept it hidden all these times, you knew that it would make him salivate like a hungry animal. Hyunjin sits on the space between your legs and keeps them open wide for him, he pumps his hard cock with his hand before rubbing it on your slit, lubing it with your bodily fluid.

Moans spilling out of your parted mouth, low and sultry, instantly become his new favorite tune.

Be gentle, he reminds himself, fighting the urge to be inside you as soon as possible.

A broken moan escaped your mouth as Hyunjin teases your entrance with only the tip.

"Let's take it slow, mmh?" and he should have said that to himself.

Holding your legs in place, Hyunjin continues by slowly entering you. He pushes into you with eyes intently watch as his length disappears into you little by little.

Gosh, you take him so well, so good, so tightly. He groans at the overwhelming feeling, engulfed in the immense pleasure of finally being inside you, becoming one with you.

He lowers his mouth on your neck and kisses you there, humming as the pleasure of being inside you hasn't dissipated yet.

"Mmh. Yeah, so good, you feel so good," he murmurs close to your ear.

After a moment of composing himself, Hyunjin kneels on the bed and hooks your legs around his waist. He begins thrusting into you and each thrust sends him deeper into you that he's having a hard time controlling himself.

He doesn't want to rush it, he wants to make it last as long as he could, he wants to make it special for you, he wants to—then you clench around him when he thought he had it controlled.

"Good?" He asks as he looks down at you.

There's no reply and he knows it's because you're too shy to say it. From the way your body moves along to his cock slipping in and out of you, he believes it is.

Hyunjin takes a moment to take it all in: how beautiful you are laying under him, your breasts jiggling along to his intense thrust into you, your hands tightly gripping the sides of your pillow and your toes curling against the white sheet.

It's all beautiful, devastatingly beautiful.

Hyunjin slowed his pace and lowers his body on you, he kisses you while keep motioning his hips into you.

"Let's cum together, mmh?"

You're panting against his lips yet you are still able to respond with a nod.

Hooking your legs around him once again, he starts to pick up the pace. His hands found yours and laced them together with his, pinning them on each side of your head.

"Close, mmh?" He can tell from your moans turning into breathless whines.

Hyunjin thrusts faster than before, fast as he could, taking both of you to your highs.

"Look at me," he orders, making you turn your head to look and locked eyes with him. He wants to see your eyes, how they shine with his cock deep inside you. He's curious about what he'll see in them as you come undone.

However, your eyes are fluttering shut when he feels you cumming around him and you're sucking him deeper, tighter that Hyunjin has no way to fight the urge anymore.

One, two thrusts later, he gets to his release, filling the condom with his seed. He collapses on top of you, his chest against your chest, two hearts lying so close together.

"I hate you," he says to you.

"I hate you for making me so crazy over you."

Hyunjin might have emptied his heart by telling you the truth, but his heart remains full of his love for you.

-

You think you're dreaming it.

Without opening your eyes, you touch the hand wrapped around you and it's real. You look over your shoulder to see him, his faded red hair looking like cotton candy against the white pillow.

Time for a reality check. You rub your eyes and take another look. Hyunjin is fast asleep next to you, his hand is around you, holding you close.

Naked.

You suddenly get so aware of yourself, of your body and appearance. He has seen everything by now but still, your insecurities are not going anywhere.

The knocking on the door comes again.

Then you realized that you woke up thinking you dreamed of hearing the knockings. It's probably Lou, he needs to take his things.

"It's me, Felix!" 

That's when you are filled with dreads. You scramble to pick up your clothes from the floor but that would take too much time and he'll keep knocking.

You grab a bathrobe from the bathroom and put it on quickly while heading to open the door.

"Yes?" You open just enough to pop your head out of the door.

He grins at the sight of you, "Did I wake you?"

You shake your head and put on a not-so-convincing smile, "No, I was in the bathroom," you lied.

"Oh?" He notices that you're in a bathrobe.

"What's up?" You ask.

"Let's get breakfast together," he says.

Felix did take you on breakfast a few times before but you didn't expect him to do it again today of all days.

"I-I have a stomach issue," you makeup excuses on the spot but can't find anything that is less embarrassing than this.

"You're sick, babe?" He asks with concern.

You shake your head again, "no, just, bad digestion," you stammer.

"Then let's order breakfast from your room," he says and takes a step to go through your hotel door.

"No!" You refuse a little too fast that it startles him.

"I mean, let's have it in your room," you resolve.

Felix is naturally a very caring person and knowing you're sick only gives him a reason to take care of you.

"My room is messy. Lou is unpacking his things... it's messy, you don't want to see it," you stumble on a word but it's convincing enough, or that's what you think.

"Okay then," Felix nonchalantly shrugs, "let's go to my room!"

He takes your hand and is about to drag you away, you keep the door open with your foot.

"I'm naked!" You blurt out.

He quickly lets go of your hand.

"I was about to take a hot bath when you came," you lie again.

He scans you for a moment, head to toe, probably noticing something is off about you, "are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I just need to get back in, put some clothes on and I'll go to your room," you start to rambling.

He takes another look at you then nods, "I go back to my room and order breakfast for us."

"Sounds great!" You exclaim with a fake smile.

"See you then!" He says, heading back to the elevator.

You walk back into your room and shut the door, leaning and banging your head against it, feeling bad for lying to Felix.

Hyunjin is still sleeping and you can't bring yourself to wake him up, not when your best friend is waiting in his room to have breakfast with you.

On the way to Felix's hotel room, you stop by Hyunjin's room knowing that Lou is inside. You softly knock, afraid that if you knocked too loud, Felix would hear it too since his room is right next to Hyunjin.

"Lou, it's me!" You whisper close to the door.

Thankfully, Lou is awake, or half awake more like. His eyes are half open and tired.

You push him back as you step inside and close the door, "Hyunjin is in our room!"

He rubs his eyes, "yeah, I know," he sleepily replies.

"We uh... we—"

"Oh, God! Spare me the explicit details!" He groans while covering his ear, then plops down onto the chair.

It gets you panicked that he knows even before you tell him what happened. Is it that obvious?

You hurriedly cover his mouth with your hand to shut him, "Can you get him... you know, I don't want anyone to know," you don't know how to make it sounds like you're asking him to do the hard task of telling Hyunjin to go back to his room and to pretend that last night didn't happen, at least not in front of everyone.

"Okay," he casually answers.

You put your hands on his shoulders and look into his sleepy eyes, "and please don't tell anyone."

He puts your hand down and sighs, "I don't even tell anyone how you like to steal the hotel's slippers," he mumbles.

To be honest, it's better if anyone knows you had sex with Hyunjin rather than them finding out about that bad habit of yours that Lou secretly learned from sharing a room with you.

"Thank you, Lou!" You sincerely tell him.

He reclines on the chair, "Don't worry. I got you," he assures you with a sleepy smile on his sleepy face.

"Now I have to go to have breakfast with Felix," you hand him your hotel keycard.

"Off seeing your first husband, huh?"

You ignore his joke and exit the room. Taking a deep breath, you stop right in front of Felix's room and then knock on his door.

-

Hyunjin is hoping to find you laying next to him.

Instead of that, someone is throwing a pile of clothes onto his back.

"I'm sorry, dude but you have to skedaddle," Lou says.

He slowly turns on the bed and squints as the sunlight hits his eyes, blinding him.

"What time is it?" He asks while trying to get up.

"It's ten-something," Lou answers. He's walking around the room taking things, and putting on clothes while talking.

His eyes are still heavy with sleep but seeing the space on the bed where you lay asleep so close to him brings him back to last night.

He can still smell you on him, on his lips, and fuck, that sends him thinking of how good you felt around him.

Notices that Hyunjin still hasn't moved from the bed yet, Lou turns around from looking at the mirror on the wall to remind him, "You have a fan sign at noon. You'd better hurry!"

He groans in response to Lou and drags himself out of the bed, in the bathroom he washes his face quickly, then puts on his clothes.

Hyunjin gets into the elevator with Lou as he's planning to go to Han's room which is located across from his. As it arrives at his floor, the doors slide open and he gets surprised to see you with Felix.

"Oh, hey!" Felix greets.

Hyunjin's eyes are on you and he so badly wants to ask why you left in the morning. Why you chose to be with Felix than spend the morning with him?

You look just as surprised, your eyes are open wide, not expecting to meet him there.

"Where are you guys going?" Lou is the one who breaks the silence.

"We just had breakfast and are about to go to get coffee," Felix answers, "what about you guys?"

Lou had to grab Hyunjin by the sleeve of his shirt and drag him out of the elevator.

"We just got back from breakfast downstairs and we're going to wake the sleepyhead," Lou once again being the only one talking to Felix while Hyunjin and you are exchanging cryptic glances at each other.

"You get in first, babe," Felix holds the elevator doors open to let you in first, then he gets in after you.

"Anyone wants coffee?" Felix offers, now holding the doors open with the button on the panel.

"Yes," Lou shortly replies.

"Okay," Felix lets go of the button and the elevator closes.

Lou lets out a long, heavy sigh, "you need to calm down," he tells Hyunjin.

Calm down? He asks inside his head. How can he calm down when he knows his girl is going out with another guy?

"That's Felix. They're friends," Lou reminds him.

That certainly snaps him out of it. Hyunjin indeed, needs to calm down. You are with your friend who's also his friend.

But does it mean he has to keep this relationship a secret?

As if Lou heard his thoughts, he stops him from walking with a hand on his chest.

"Look, I know you like her but telling everyone about it will only complicate things for her."

He turns on his feet to face Hyunjin, "she's working and the job is already hard for her. Letting everyone know about it will make it harder for her," he adds.

Lou licks his lips before speaking, "Give her time, give her space."

Lou is right and maybe that was why the first time he fell in love he fell out of it fast, because he was impatient, thinking that it was okay to hurry love.

He wants to do better this time, he wants forever with you.

"At least, you know, wait until the tour is over then you can do whatever the fuck it is you want," Lou concludes.

He leaves Hyunjin once he has said what he needed to say and goes to knock on Han's room.

"Wake up you sleepy sloth!" He shouts at his door.

At the fan sign, he keeps thinking over, what Lou said to him earlier. He decides that it's best to keep this a secret at least until the end of the tour. Until then, he'll keep this between him and you.

Now that he thinks of you, his mind is taking him back to last night...

"Felix, your birthday is coming soon!" A fan says to him.

That takes him out of his reverie, Hyunjin overheard the conversation since Felix is sitting next to him, and hearing that makes him feel like a terrible friend. He completely forgot that Felix's birthday is only weeks away.

"What is your wish for this year's birthday?" The fan asks him again.

"Love," he answers.

Felix chuckles again and he quickly glances at Hyunjin, so fast that he almost missed it, probably afraid that he finds his answer corny.

"And happiness," he then adds as he signed a poster for the fan.

"Why? Our love is not enough for you?" The fan asks with a pout.

Felix gently shakes his head, "I'm afraid it's not enough," he jokingly says with a wide grin.

When it comes to giving Felix a gift, Hyunjin wants to give him a special one, It's best if it's what he needs. It's what he deserves for being such a good friend, a great bandmate, and an all-around lovely person to keep.

Once the fan sign is done, Hyunjin walks to the car back with him.

"What do you want for your birthday?"

"You don't have to," Felix kindly refuses.

Hyunjin puts his arm around his shoulder and asks him again, "What is it? Tell me," he gently shakes his shoulder.

Felix grins as he thinks of something, "A house?"

Hyunjin burst into laughter, knowing that it isn't something that he can't afford, not now, probably not ever.

"You should ask that from Han!"

Felix also laughs and stops at the door of the car, "anything."

Hyunjin sighs because that's too broad, too general. Anything is anything but he's not sure if Felix would like it if he gifted him a piece of chewing gum.

"You give me a useless clue, Felix," Hyunjin mumbles with an annoyed eye-roll.

"I'll appreciate any gifts because that means you think of me when you choose it," Felix explains.

As expected, Felix is simple and warm, he's so pleasant to be with which makes it hard for him to find the perfect birthday gift.

Again, makes him feel like a terrible friend for not knowing what to get for him.

-

It's easier to be said than done.

Seeing you and not being able to touch you is hard. Not when he has known how you tasted and felt like, not when he's addicted to your touches and kisses.

It's been hours since the last time he saw you and he already misses you, so much that it's manifesting into physical pain.

Seeing you with Felix is... he doesn't know how to put it. Jealous? Hyunjin wants your affection and attention for him, him only.

Now he hates you for making him jealous of his friend.

But on top of all that, he wants the assurance that that night happened between you and him. It's real for him and he wants to know if it's real for you too.

It's hard to be alone with you when there are always people around him and when he's alone, you're not there. He thinks of another strategy to find alone time with you.

During soundcheck, he sees you going around the pit with your camera and taking pictures in between. He isn't sure if you looked at him but he did.

How come he misses you more after he saw you?

Letting his other bandmates leave first, Hyunjin stalled by taking small steps behind them. He knows you'll be passing this way too, you always go back to the green room a few minutes after the soundcheck finishes.

So he waits and waits, his heart starts to pitter-patter at the sight of you coming his way.

It's the perfect time to take you someplace that he knows no one will be there.

"Come with me," he says as he grabs your hand and takes you to the hidden chamber under the stage where the logistic boxes are stored.

It's dark with the only source of light coming from the tiny crack between two black curtains.

It's just the two of you now and suddenly, he loses what he's planning to ask you, to say to you.

"What?" Your voice is so low it's almost like a whisper.

"I—" he blanked out, losing his mind as he looks into your eyes, shining even under minimum light.

There's only this small space that separated him from you and he just wanted to get as close as possible to you, his feet take a step closer toward you.

"Yes?" You ask again with those eyes that keep luring him to look, deeper and deeper.

The next thing he knows, he's drowning in them. His hands hold each side of your face and slowly, he kisses you.

In no time, you melt into his arms, resting your hands on his chest as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

You open your mouth for him, letting him invade you, getting as much taste of you. You kiss him back, softly, opposite to his hungry kisses.

With your hand on his chest, you gently push him away to stop him from kissing you.

"I need to breathe," you tell him while catching your breath.

Hyunjin is not sorry for being so needy yet he bashfully smiles at you, he buries his head in your neck to compensate for not being able to kiss your lips.

You let him have it too. You glide your hands up, putting them around his neck.

The warm breath you exhale tickles his ear but he likes it, he likes it because he can hear your faint giggles as he places fluttering kisses on your neck.

He drops his hands to your waist, wrapping them tightly around you, and pulls you even closer until your body is molded into his.

"I hate you," he playfully whispers to you.

You turn your head to look at him, "what is it now?"

"I hate you for making me miss you," he replies.

You giggle again and it's the cutest thing he ever heard. Oh! The things he wanted to do to you if he wasn't in a dark, confined space with you.

Before you can turn your head away, he captures your lips in a kiss, long and lingering, taking your breath away for the second time.

Hyunjin knows when to stop this time, he lets go of the kiss but not pulling away. He turns to playfully bite on your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth while you can only smile as he does as he pleases.

He stops biting to only start sucking on your lips, then kisses you again at the end while his hands wander by themselves, touching your clothed body and squeezing the flesh with so much passion.

It's getting dangerous now that his kisses become hungrier, harder, and deeper and his hands are slipping under your t-shirt, feeling the heat of your body under his touch.

The right decision is to stop whatever it is he's doing but when he's with you, he can't think straight. Judging from his past experiences, he always ended up taking bad decisions.

"Hyunjin," you call his name while running out of breath.

Should he be thankful that you put on a halt to this?

You smile while taking his hands from you to hold them in yours, intertwining them together and dropping them to the sides.

"We have to go," you remind him.

He pulls you close again, "No, we can stay."

A chuckle escaped your mouth and he steals a kiss on the corner of your lips.

"I'll go first," you volunteer to be the one leaving the secret rendezvous.

Hyunjin holding your hand tighter, not willing to let you go. But he knows he has to, he reminded himself that it's the best option for now.

With a soft kiss on your knuckle, he lets you go.

At the end of the concert, Hyunjin is always the last to get off the stage. He prefers to stick a little longer, waving to his fans, and takes a long, good look at them for making another memorable night together with him.

And you'll be there, at the side of the stage, cheering them for a successful show.

Everything feels different now that he knows you're no longer thinking he hates you, you wouldn't misunderstand him again.

The temptation to just let the world knows that you are his and he's yours is a little too hard to ignore. As he gets off the stage, Hyunjin has to put everything in him not to run and kiss you.

He has to be fine watching you greet someone else with that smile and not getting that pat on the back, telling him he did a good job.

Just three more stops, three more stops and he can have you, all of you.

-

LAST STOP ON THE TOUR.

Something is not right.

Hyunjin senses that something is slightly off with you. At a glance, he can tell that everything is fine just like last night, the two of you went on a secret date and he could tell that you liked it by how your smile didn't wear off for a second.

Something happened after last night. For all he knows, something could have happened this morning.

It's just that when he takes a closer look, he knows something is not right. Your smile wavers, your stay quiet, and your eyes dim, the glints you usually have in them are nowhere to be seen.

Hyunjin needs to make sure that it has nothing to do about him and you, about the relationship. Maybe you're simply having a bad day or feeling sentimental about the tour coming to an end.

It could be that but Hyunjin has to know for sure.

He sees you walking out of the green room, he has only a few minutes then it's his turn to get his make-up done. He runs out and sees you're walking in the hallway, heading somewhere with your camera.

He chases after you and takes your hand, he makes sure no one is around when he takes you inside the infirmary that he knows will always be empty.

You look a little taken aback when he turns to face you.

It becomes a habit now, seeing your face automatically sends his brain to do one thing: to kiss you.

The moment his lips make contact with yours, everything feels alright again and his weariness evaporates into thin air. You smile as he takes more of your lips with a playful kiss, brushing his lips over yours, again and again, hungrily, never enough.

He only lets go knowing that you running out of breath, he brushes the hair that curtain your face and put it to the side, holding them there.

"How are you?"

"I'm good," you answer.

That thin smile you put on your face is telling him the opposite. He holds your face like a piece of glass that could break if he holds it too hard but it would be easy for him to look into your head and see what's bothering you.

Hyunjin gently rubs your cheek with his thumb, in slow, circular motions. Softly speaking, he asks, "Are we good?"

You let out a chuckle, "of course, we're good," you confidently answer.

That sounds convincing but has not quite put him at ease yet. He pulls you close and hugs you, he buries his nose in your hair, drinking in the scent that gives him a sense of comfort.

"Are you sad that the tour is ending soon?" He carefully asks, afraid that it's not something you wanted to talk about yet.

For a moment, he doesn't get an answer. Then, you nod.

He splayed his hand on the arch of your back and kisses the top of your head, "but we'll be still together, you hear me?"

You nod again as your hands wrapped tightly around his dainty waist as if he'd fly away. But that's just what you do, keep him grounded, make him better, happier.

Hyunjin is happy to know that you feel the same about it. The tour ending means that he'll no longer be able to be with you 24/7 but he also can't wait to disclose this relationship, he's tired of hiding it, hiding you.

"Look at me!"

You tilt your head to look at him and he can see the sadness in your eyes. He doesn't want to see that, he wants to see those eyes shine like they always do.

"I love you," he lowly mutters.

For the first time, it feels so right to say it, maybe because you're the right person that he doesn't feel any pressure after saying it. If anything, he feels more confident with his feelings. He loves you.

You're not saying anything but standing on your tiptoe to kiss him, responding to his words with action. You're replying to his words with your warm lips and your sweet breath, then a smile that lingers on your face as you pull away.

"Are you not going to say it back to me?" He jokingly asks.

You quickly bury your face in his neck, shyly smiling in the crook of his shoulder.

In the front pocket of his jeans, Hyunjin's phone is vibrating between your bodies and it startles both of you.

"I swear it's my phone," he says with a sly grin.

He fishes it out and hit accept without looking, "I'll be there in a minute," he says, then hang up.

You take a step backward, know that he has to go and it's less than an hour left before showtime.

"I'll go first," he says.

"Okay."

He puts his hand on your neck and brings you close so he can kiss you, slow yet deep, you almost choke on air when he sucks on your tongue.

Teasing you more, he gently bites on your lower lip to finally let go. He's triumphantly smirking, knowing that he got you completely breathless from it.

The closer he gets to the end of the concert, the more he's enjoying himself. Hyunjin believes it's coming from the pressures slowly getting off his shoulders.

Truthfully, it's been hard for him to keep it a secret, to keep you for himself, to be alone with you and he's getting closer to being free.

For his solo performance, Hyunjin plays his rendition of Jimi Hendrix's Little Wing. It's not something that he usually plays because this particular track is slower in tempo, rhythm, and blues-inspired ballad. It's one of Jimi Hendrix's most concise and melodically focused pieces.

"Butterflies and zebras and moonbeams and fairytales..."

That's what you are to him: pretty, dreamy things that fascinated him.

"When I'm sad, she comes to me with a thousand smiles she gives to me free..."

And that's what you do to him, you brighten his days and light up his nights, fill the hours with your laughs and smiles.

Hyunjin just can't wait for you to take him flying on your little wings, riding in the wind.

Once the concert ends, Hyunjin doesn't want to be the last to come to you. Other than that, he can't stop his feelings that are coming at you at full speed.

You should be warned that there's no stopping for him.

Hyunjin walks past Felix and comes to you, he doesn't want to give himself a second to think, he just wants to do it.

With his heart pounding inside his chest, his blood rushing, and adrenaline still overflowing out of him, Hyunjin comes at you and grabs you by the waist, then kisses you. It's not quite a turn-on with him drenched in sweat but fuck it, he's been waiting for weeks to do this, he gave up more than what he could give.

Hyunjin deserves this, he deserves...

Then you push him away, hard enough to send him staggering backward.

He looks at you and sees your eyes filled with something almost like repulsion. Your hand flies to cover your mouth and then, he sees it, your eyes shifting at Felix.

Felix stares back at you with his mouth slightly hang open, then he glances at Hyunjin.

What the fuck is happening? Why did he do wrong? What it has got to do with Felix? The two of you are just friends or...

Hyunjin turns to look at you but you're already running away from him. You run without turning your head back at him as if he's the past that you want to forget.

Instead of flying with your little wings, he watches you run and run and run.

-

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[my-naughty-writings-and-musings]

omfg your writing is SO good!! 😭 if you’re feeling up to it, could you please write some sub mirage x reader! the way you write him is literally perfect 😭🫶

You're too kind! I had so much fun writing that fic! I would love to give that a try, so here you go!

"Come on, you're so mean!" Mirage whined as you removed your fingers from his spike yet again, hips thrusting upwards in open frustration. Watching him wiggle against the bindings keeping his hands over his head, you allowed yourself a grin as the mech once more failed to behave, his desperation for release making him kick up a fuss despite the fact that he'd agreed to the rules. In his defense, you had him quivering and breaking out in a thin sweat of coolant, so even while playing the dominant you were content to let him off the hook for now. 

"We can stop at any time, you know." you reminded him playfully, making a point to smile up from between his legs as the mech pouted down at you. His thoroughly unsatisfied erection throbbed between you, which you ignored as you continued speaking in the most mock sweet voice you could manage, loving how his usual confidence had been replaced with desperation. "That's what the safeword is for."

"That's not what I... I don't want you to stop, I want you to stop teasing me!" he whined in response, bouncing his hips in frustration and making your satisfied grin deepen. In the leadup to this session you'd repeatedly told him what it would entail, including how you'd be pushing him to his limits as the dominant (within the agreed upon parameters, of course), but it was no surprise his impatience was getting the better of him. Truthfully, you just found that added to your fun. Watching him squirm against the bonds you'd tied over his helm gave you a sense of power like no other, and the pleading in his big blue optics only made it all the sweeter. "Seriously, Y/N, I'm gonna overheat before I overload! Can't we skip ahead to the ending?"

"I still think you're missing the idea of what being a "sub" entails." you teased, running your fingers up his heated thighs. Mirage moaned and obediently leaned into your touch, which you rewarded with more focused massages along his transformation seams, using your tiny human fingers to reach where no bot could. His erect spike throbbed at the attention, the biolights pulsing as if trying to draw you in for the relief he needed. It was delicious to deny him and let the pressure continue to build. "Remember what I said? You get what you want when I decide, and I've decided you get it when you're good."

"But I am good! Look at this face!" he pleaded, widening his optics and giving you the most pitiful expression you'd ever seen. It actually stirred a touch of pity in you, but you kept that to yourself, hands resting on his thighs as you kept up your unreadable smirk. His lack of progress made the mech whine once more. "How can you say no to something this cute?"

"Unfortunately, cute doesn't mean well behaved." you teased, compelled to grant him some mercy so long as he played his cards right. Reaching for a tiny bullet vibrator you'd kept hidden in your person, you ensured it was out of sight as you set it to maximum, keeping your face neutral the entire time. Mirage didn't suspect a thing and merely continued to huff and whine, unintentionally giving you an ideal opening when he plopped his helm back on the berth in frustration. Excitement fluttered up from your stomach as you eyed up the most sensitive part of his spike; a stretch of soft mesh just below the head on the underside, and lined up the flattened tip of the vibrator. "Just using the magic word will get you a lot further. So, if you want me to keep doing this..."

All at once, the mech had a powerful buzz running up and down the most tender part of his oversensitive spike, and he responded just as passionately as you'd hoped. 

Arching into your touch as if you were a final lifeline, the big mech cried out in surprise that quickly shifted into openly eager moans for more, his whole frame writhing with ecstasy as you pleasured him. Biting your lip at the beautiful sight, you needed a moment to remember what you'd intended to follow up with, finding him so engrossing you wanted nothing more than to watch him all day. A bead of transfluid on the top of his length gave you the push you needed. "What do you say?"

"Please!" he begged in a rush, optics shut tight and vents heaving out deep, hot blasts of air. The sight sent equal arousal through your own body, and it was a challenge to remember what your original desire was, and that as delightful as this was you hadn't achieved your goal just yet. There was still a little more pushing, a little more denial, just to get him to the point of total need rather than simple want.

Removing the vibrator, you smirked at his resulting cry of betrayal and moved back when he thrust blindly for it to be returned. "Hm? What was th-?"

"Pretty-pretty-pretty-please! With whatever you want on top!" he shouted in total abandon, quivering and near to tears as transfluid dribbled down his throbbing spike. Taken aback but absolutely euphoric at the sight, you let him suffer for only a few additional moments to admire your work: the speedster was dripping with coolant, trembling hard enough to rattle his armor, and so heated that steam was rising from his vents. You weren't sure he'd ever been so pretty.

"That'll work." you said as you granted him mercy, bringing the vibrator back to his spike and rubbing it in with a not insignificant amount of force. His voice trembled as he moaned in relief, hips spasming as more fluid dribbled down the length of his spike and he closed in on his overload. The transfluid helped lubricate your actions, making it that much easier to slide up and down his length with one hand whilst the other wrapped around the base to keep him somewhat still. You could feel by the way he thrust into your hand that you owned him completely, and he wouldn't have denied it even if he had the capacity to speak. The total submission was rewarded with even more passionate ministrations, your shoulders growing sore from the speed of your pumps and your breath coming fast from the strain as you pleasured him for all you were worth. 

Mirage came right to the very precipice of release, and you used the opportunity to whisper a final bit of encouragement, playing the Ace he had never wanted to admit you had.

"Good boy."

Mirage came with a gush of transfluid that made your eyes go wide in awe, the heavy ropes splattering on his front and surging from his spike at a volume that would have been more fitting for a bot twice his size. Every throb of his spike spread your fingers as it rolled up his length, the explosive release coming with cries of euphoric relief that shook the walls of the garage. Only your dedication to him allowed you to muster up the focus to do more than watch, the gorgeous spectacle of the mech's release as enrapturing as it was overdue. A thick, sticky mess coated the entirety of his front by the time the overload finally faded, and you felt his spike go from hard as a rock to limp in your grasp as his frame did the same. His body collapsed with enough force to make the berth tremble, and were it not for a murmur you'd have thought him unconscious. It didn't seem a stretch to say you'd done a marvelous job.

"I don't remember saying you could finish, but I'll let it slide." you teased as you clicked off the vibrator and crawled up the berth. Mirage tried to reply something snarky, but the words came out as nothing more than another slurred murmur, his optics blinking at you unevenly as you arrived at his helm. Ego thoroughly pleased with his current state, you merely cupped the side of his helm and chuckled before laying a kiss on his crest, looking down at his steaming, sticky frame and swelling with pride at a job well done. 

"Let's give you a few minutes to recuperate. Then, you can return the favor..." you encouraged gently, hoping he'd be coherent before the end of the evening. In the meantime, you were quite content to cuddle him as he purred through the bliss of the afterglow, loving how he behaved more like a giant cat than a warrior after all you'd done to him. You adored his sass, obviously, but sometimes it was just nice to leave him speechless.

[moonyswife]

Coffee Talk

MASTERLIST

Remus Lupin x reader

Warnings: Pure fluff, a bit of kissing and probs a bit of bad grammar.

06.26 AM

Dark clouds painted the sky, winter snow littered the ground outside, the freezing air was kept outside by the strong facade of the Potter Mansion. WInter break was coming to an end soon, as would her invitation to the Potter's, and as much as she missed the castle, the end of the mini vacation to James's with all their friend group for break was something she didn't want to end soon, or ever truthfully.

Y/m laid restless on her makeshift made on the guest room that was the designated "girl room", even though she shared a dorm with these lovely girls, they where incredibly more annoying during any kind of break, Marlene's snores where getting louder by the second, Mary kept talking in her sleep, Lily was way to clingy (they had to share a bed, because Lily agreed to come [begrudgingly] at the last minute).

With no room to breathe and uncomfortable, y/n got up, grabbed a blanket and with no care of being quiet left the room, these girls deserved to be disrupted, they deserved to be bothered, but alas, they where still fast sleep.

It was way to early too be up he sky was still awfully dark, she should be sleeping under a huge comfoter with her teddy and fuzzy socks, sadly she found herself laying on the couch with only a blanket to protect her from the freezing cold of the Potter's living room.

06:57 AM

A crack on the floor woke y/n up, she hadn't even realized she fell sleep, startled she sat up and cursed herself for not bringing her wand along, adjusting her eyes to find out whose face it was in the dark, it spoke.

“Shit! Merlin, you scared me” Remus Lupin himself was the face she couldn’t see, what a shame she thought, he has a gorgeous face.

“I know I’m not the best looking sleeper, but I don’t think I can get scary” her lame joke earned a small laugh from him. Worth it.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that” his voice was raspy, she figured it was from sleeping. “What are you doing here anyways? Why are we sleeping on the couch?”

“Could ask the same thing” She replied, “The girls are giving me hell, I have no idea how I can keep up with ‘em all year, what about you?”

He gave her a smile, the one that makes his dimples noticeable and the scar on his nose widen, the one that makes girls like her swoon at the sight of it, the one that he usually keeps hidden, the one that he secretly reserves for her.

“Same thing, the boys are incredibly annoying, god knows I’ve put up with them for five whole years, I need a break, plus, James’s room is way too cluttered for four guys to be able to sleep in.”

She hummed in response, “sit down, don’t just stand there by the doorway, it’s creepy”

Remus blushed he didn’t even realized that he was standing there so tense, he suddenly felt utterly aware of himself, of his tight pijama pants that were way too short on him, of his old shirt with holes in it that he was way to attached to to throw out, of his tussled hair, of the exposed skin littered with scars, he was in pajamas in front of her. Sure she was too, but she looked great, like always.

"Mmm, you scared the sleepiness out of me... What about an early breakfast?"

Honestly she was still pretty tired, but it has been a while since they could share a moment alone, ever simce they've left hogwarts the whole group has been glued together, it has been hard to have one on one conversations, not that she needed to, but there was something brewing inside of her anytime she talked with Remus alone, they both felt it, she was sure, but neither made the move.

"Sure, I really need a coffee" She said making her way into the kitchen.

"I'm more of a tea kind of guy, but I'll join you with a cup." He tried to make it sound non chalantly, but he really despised coffee, he only drank it when she was around, ever since that time in third year he obliged to grab a cup with her because he lied and told her he loved it to impress her.

Comfortable silence fell upon them as they made coffee, shuffling around the kitchen trying to be quiet, smal huffs and giggles filled the now warm kitchen, y/n couldn't help but smile anytime she looks at him, he was the most beautiful man on earth.

"Wat'cha looking at" He said grinning like a devil.

"You"

"Me? What's so interesting about me?"

"Stop messing with me, Remus, you know." Hopefully her cheeks would not be as red as they felt.

"Know what?." he was getting cheeky, she diverted her eyes from his face, suddenly the cup of coffee was the most intersting thng in the world.

"C'mon, look at me," He said as he tilted her chin upwards to look at him. Merlin he was tall. "Don't get shy on me all of a sudden, What's wrong?"

"Why don't you have a girlfriend?" it was a stupid question, she hoped that the answer was what she wanted, still, weird thing to ask.

He laughed "What? Why? Why do you care?"

"I asked first, like, really, how come the cutest guy in all of hogwarts is still single?"

because all I've ever wanted was you, he wanted to yell.

"I don't know, I don't really care for it" he lied, "Why don't you have a boyfriend, I've heard about guys interested in you" he tried to play his bitterness for friendly banter, he wasn't sure it worked.

She hummed "Well none of them are my type, y'know"

She looked at him in a way that would've made Remus's knees buckle it he wasn't standing against the kitchen island.

"Well whats your type?" Sudden braveness.

"Well, there's this guy and he's exactly my type" she said in a such a dreamy way that made Remus want to die, jealousy filled his chest.

"yeah, he's so dreamy, and cute and pretty" she liked the way that made him mad, he's the smartest person she knows, but he's stil just a boy, a very dense one at that. "he loves to wears old wooly sweaters, he loves fantasy and children books but pretends to only read philosophy to seem more nuanced" she looked into his eyes and held his hands, he squeezed them. "He loves tea, but he pretends to like coffee to impress the girl he likes" she laughed as her hands moved from his hands to his chest and finally to his neck.

He put his shaky hand on her hips, "Kiss me"he pleaded. She happily obliged.

Her heart skipped a thousand beats and she was sure she passed out for a second. It was perfection, the way his hand squeezed her waist as he deepens the kiss, how he hummed in her mouth when she tugged at his sandy curls, hours could've gone by, they wouldn't have cared.

Sadly they had to breathe so she broke the kiss, nose to nose and holding each other, they locked eyes as they fall into a fit of laughter.

"Okay.... so... we're on the same page, I think" she said as the laughter broke down.

"Yeah, I think we are" he grabbed her hand. Y/n yawned "Oh Merlin, what time is it?"

The clock signals:

07:38 AM

"Still pretty early to be up" he says, the coffee long forgotten.

"Mmm, want to cuddle and make out in the couch 'til the others wake up" she said hugging his side.

"I'd like that very much" he said pulling her out of the kitchen and into the living room couch.

10:05 AM

"OH MERLIN MY EYES!!!" A familiar voice woke them up. "JAMES! MOONY AND Y/N HAVE DEFILED YOUR COUCH!"

"Don't be stupid, Sirius, you woke them up" Lily's nagging followed.

Y/n had made no attemp to get up, to hell with them, she was comfortable, her arms around Remus's neck and his around her waist, theur legs tangled with each other's, slowly morphing into one.

"My Lilyflower's right, pads" James said. "Let them sleep, god knows it's been long enough with the yearning and the crushes and the longing glances. And they're way too much of cowards to do anything in some else's place, our Moony is a proper gentleman."

Remus flushed,but tried to keep quiet, he didn't care their mates were mocking them, all he cared about was his girl and his girl was cuddled up against him.

With a last kiss (momentarily), they dozed off again.

[daistea]

Hey, so. I wanted to ask about the interpretation of pre-Dungeon Lord Mithrun as being very catty and Regina George-like. Personally, and I've got no problems with it, I'm just really curious where it comes from, but I don't get that read. He was catty and petty and all sorts of unpleasant, but Misril essentially confirms that he kept it all inside because he seemed so perfect and his Dungeon was some great surprise to her. Built on lies and jealousy and inferiority but she had no idea whatsoever. He was festering in silence, I think, and all that ugliness was tucked inside. He was scrambling. Probably imagining himself as alone and unique in his ugliness and failing to speak truthfully about his feelings because he must've been taught that ugly things - like affairs and disabled brothers? - are to be hidden. You're something else before you're a person, so you must be nice and kind and good and emblematic of that. And it isn't as if I was raised in any position of power, but royal houses can be sort of emblematic of that kind of repression of personality, where being small and quiet and smooth and obedient is "good personhood". He was revealed as a mean drunk, but that's about it. Truly, I think catty Mithrun is comfortable Mithrun, so I like to imagine that post-Dungeon Mithrun is the catty one. I think it's funny to imagine our relationship, as it were, and imagine people watching with him and judging people for the fun of it. It's not personal or to feel better or anything. It's just because, and he says some truly out of pocket shit, and I'm there, a little reprimanding, like, "Oh my God! You can't just say that..." and I'm looking at him. And he's looking at me without saying anything. An eyebrow raised. My expression cracks. I look away and snort. "God," I say again. "Oh my God. Yeah. Okay. Fine." Laughingly, "Uh... That's the tackiest, brightest jacket I've ever seen in my life. It is disgustingly offensive. My eyes are practically burning. Is that it?" And he smiles a little. Barely there. And I groan and lightly smack his shoulder. "Is that what you wanted to hear?" He shrugs, "Was it honest?" "Yeah. I mean, I'm exaggerating for the fun of it all, but..." I shudder. "God, it's horrible," and then maybe I get into it, like the minutiae of opinions. Being very opinionated. "And it's worse because not even badly shaped! It'd be fine if it was, like, a simple black coat or something. The texture looks okay, but it has the worst patterning, the worst shapes and colors and—!" And he's laughing out loud. Holding his hands on his stomach, because I've gone full into gesturing and I'm getting so heated about a stupid coat that doesn't even matter, but it's fun! It's amazing. We're having a great time, and I'm laughing, too, because it's silly and it doesn't matter and I'm happy like this. We both are. He frowns a little, and goes, "Okay, what about that shirt?" and making his own statements, like "Ugh. That gold looks like vomit", and we play off eachother, like "Ough. Yeah, and that red with that shade is so bright." I raise my eyebrows. "Evocative." Mithrun hums. "Blood and vomit," he nods. "Ew." We look at eachother and shake our heads sort of sagely. And then I crack first. I almost always break first.

Ye when we joke about pre-dungeon Mithrun being catty, it’s more like he’s catty on the inside. He’s canonly critical and judgmental and angry in his own mind, but I think he also genuinely loves his friends. He just can’t help but be a negative nelly in his head bc insecurity and whatnot. I think if pre-dungeon Mithrun was especially close to someone, close enough to let his true nature show(which would be incredibly rare) then he’d express those thoughts outwardly. But in secret. Nobody realizes he’s catty, but he is. Because he’s passive aggressive and fake lol

I do think post-dungeon Mithrun is a jerk too, but he has no reservations about expressing it anymore because he has no desire to keep up appearances. He doesn’t dislike his old self because his old self was mean, he dislikes his old self because he just automatically dislikes himself in any form. And even then I think that’s subconscious. When he corrects Kabru and basically says ‘no I wasn’t perfect at all’ he’s just stating a fact. He has very little feeling on the matter other than resentment towards his own actions and emotions that led him to the demon and subsequent trauma.

I think Misiril prob taught him that being relatively polite gets him places, it keeps everybody around him from wanting to leave. And if they left then he wouldn’t have the necessary manpower to defeat the demon. So if he makes the decision to keep certain thoughts to himself, it’s either because it’s easiest/out of habit/to prevent an obstacle in his quest. I mean obviously he still says outlandish crap (“Inferior species.” “CAPTAIN THATS RACIST!”) but I think that’s because he knows it wont really matter in the long run in those cases, so he just says whatever’s on his mind without a care of how it sounds.

But yeah post-canon Mithrun would probably be way more relaxed. If he’s with someone he’s close to, he’d point out an ugly shirt. I wouldn’t call him catty, because there’s no passive aggressive-ness there. He’s just blunt. His old self would have an absolute heart attack because iTS NOT PROPER STOP IT YOURE GOING TO MAKE PEOPLE HATE YOU!!!

The juxtaposition between his past and present is so interesting. They’re like two different people, so different but still similar in some ways. Hmm

[jeweled-blue-eyes]

On Ijekiel and Jennette's relationship

It has dawned on me that Ijekiel and Jennette hardly know each other. From my perspective it looks like Jennette spend the first few years of her life either with her aunt Rosalia or the Margaritas. Perhaps she was first shoved from one family to the other for neither was willing to take risks, which would further explain her anxious attachment style that is often associated with an inconsistent parenting pattern.

Then Roger bought Jennette home as his ward with the intention to marry her to Ijekiel one day. 7~ year old Ijekiel did not know how to describe Jennette when Athy asks him what kind of girl she is, the only thing he knows is that she has become his responsibility from now on.

One might expect that they would grow closer over the years but almost 10 years later Jennette still doesn't know anything about him. Not even simple things like his favourite color or his hobbies.

Jennette craved his attention but due to her status as a hidden royal and the special treatment she received from Roger, she was in a position where they could never be equals. Interestingly in this case there has occured a rare gender reversal. The girl is the dominant one and the boy the subservient one. Ijekiel did everything that was asked of him not by his own volitation but because he treated it like an assignment that was given to him by his father.

Truthfully young Ijekiel seemed somewhat indifferent towards Jennette. Like he couldn't make more of her than a basket full of kittens. He played her games but he never introduced his own hobbies to her or felt comfortable to share his inner thoughts with her. There is a scene in the novel around chapter 56-62 where Jennette asks Ijekiel to go shopping for dresses with her and it looks like he wants to refuse but eventually he agrees when Jennette persists. Jennette thinks bitterly to herself something along the lines of: "Sometimes it feels like you wouldn't want to spend time with me unless I asked you to."

When Ijekiel left to stuy in Arlanta he seemed much happier than when he was with Jennette.

Once I said I saw Ijekiel and Jennette more as siblings but I don't think so anymore. They were put into a situation where they were not allowed to view each other as family or grow close to one another as children. I believe Roger send Ijekiel to study in Arlanta to prevent the Westermark effect. All Jennette wanted was a family and Ijekiel was more inclined to give her that than romantic love, which would have shaped up to become a problem for Roger's plan.

Before Ijekiel travels to Arlanta he promises to write her letters and visit her during his holidays, yet this still doesn't seem to have bought them closer. If anything Ijekiel's time in Arlanta made Jennette all the more lonelier. (I also doubt that Ijekiel spend his entire vocation with Jennette since he was also friends with other students like Cabel Ernest and they visited each other frequently.) When Ijekiel takes Jennette to a cafe and Athy eavesdrops on them, Lucas notes that their conversation seemed contentless and boring and while this could be just Lucas being Lucas, I have to agree that their chats were not very deep unless Athanasia was concerned.

Ijekiel buys Jennette dolls and ribbons to compensate her for the love his family is not willing to give her and this behaviour persists until their late teens when she has long outgrown the age where you play with dolls, but Ijekiel still continues to gift her toys because he doesn't know how else to comfort her. To Ijekiel Jennette is still the little girl he left behind in tears when he traveled away to study in Arlanta. Which makes their marriage in The Lovely Princess all the more sadder. Their relationship is build on abandonment issues, duty and guilt. They weren't lovers. They were not even brother and sister to each other. They were hardly friends.

How I interpret their relationship: Jennette did not love Ijekiel, but he was always there for her when she was grieving. Isolated as she was it was easy for Roger to foster her dependency to Ijekiel and make her believe that she would want him romantically. In truth Jennette just didn't want to lose any more people and marriage was a way to tie two people together for the rest of their lives. As for Ijekiel, I believe that he pitied Jennette and treated her as his responsibility but in another world where they were not aquainted through family they would not even be friends. They don't seem to share any common interests. They didn't know each other. At times Ijekiel might have resented her secretly but she also gave him a clear goal and stability in life. Athy's death in The Lovely Princess broke them both and they might have coped by finding solace in one another.

[jinisnuggets]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐀 𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬

ᴾᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ: ˢⁱʳᵉⁿ!ᴶᵘⁿᵍʷᵒⁿ ˣ ᴺᵒᵇˡᵉ!ᴿᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ᴳᵉⁿʳᵉ: ᴬᵘ, ᴬⁿᵍˢᵗ

ᵂᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: ⁵.³ᵏ

ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ᴹʸᵗʰⁱᶜᵃˡ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵃˡᵏ, ᵃⁿᵗⁱ-ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉʳ (ᵒᶠ ᵐʸᵗʰⁱᶜᵃˡ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ), ˢʷᵉᵃʳ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ, ᵗʰᵉᶠᵗ, ᵖᵃˢᵗ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵈⁱˢᶜᵘˢˢⁱᵒⁿ, ᴬˡˡᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵈᵘᶜᵗⁱᵛᵉ ᵈᵉᵖⁱᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ˢⁱʳᵉⁿˢ, ᵐᵃⁿⁱᵖᵘˡᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ?, ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵉˣᵉᶜᵘᵗⁱᵒⁿ

ᴺᵉᵗʷᵒʳᵏ: @starlit-network

ᴬ/ⁿ: ᵀᴴᴵˢ ᵀᴼᴼᴷ ᴹᵉ ˢᴼ ᴸᴼᴺᴳ ᵀᴼ ᶠᴵᴺᴵˢᴴ!! ᴮᵘᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵐʸ ᶠⁱᶜ ᶜʳᵉᵈⁱᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᶠᵘˡ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ ⁱᵗ

The ocean was full of mysteries and secrets that no one has, nor should ever be discovered… the big body of water that was so beautiful yet so terrifying.

You, a regular Victorian girl who enjoyed reading novels under the big tree which sat next to a normal river, finding joy in being able to put yourself into the characters that you read in the book. Feeling as if you were the main character, growing a connection with those around you.

“Y/n, you tend to isolate yourself too much dear… wouldn't you like to spend more time with us? Your family?” Your mother found herself asking, looking directly at you as if she expected you to answer enthusiastically.

Truthfully, no. You were fine being alone and it was when you felt at your best. Being alone in the comfort of your books and imagination.

“If I'm being honest, mother, I do not think that being alone is a burden, as I quite enjoy the silence of going into the forest alone.”

Your mother and sister stared at you, unknowing of what to respond with. You hated the look of pity that they showed towards you, as if enjoying the company of one's self was something that should be looked down upon. The opinion of those older could never be the same as someone younger. The mind was simply at different levels of development, causing disagreements between the two quite regularly.

Looking around at the family who sat around the table, picking yourself up from the chair and grabbing your book from your lap to prevent it from falling.

“I believe I have some important manners to take care of…” you completed, beginning to make your way out of the dining room.

“Y/n, before you go you must be aware of something.” Your dad spoke, catching your attention and causing you to turn around to face him.

“What's wrong?” You responded, somewhat intrigued.

“Because me and your mother have been speaking about a better career opportunity for our company. I wanted to make you aware that next month we'll be moving over to a different town. Not far at most.”

You despised moving… however this time, it would be near an ocean. Meaning you would be capable of observing the same water that your current book, ‘A Hidden Atlantis’ was referencing. The same town and ocean that had been where the novel had taken place.

A Hidden Atlantis was a one of a kind book, you'd truthfully never read anything like it before. The topic of humanoid creatures whose legs resembled that of a fish was always interesting to you.

Something like that could never exist in the real world… could it?

It would only ever be real in paintings, books and imagination. It's place was not the real ocean that was full of mysterious creatures.

However… in the low chance possibility that something like a half human half fish existed. It'd be so beautiful yet terrifying. The same way its habitat was.

Your obsession with these types of mythical chapter books started when you found a ring on the floor of your new (now old) house. You were young, so the red ruby that sat brightly inside the ring wasn't something that appeared valuable to you, it was only ever stunning.

You kept it, never sold it for money… even though it would probably be worth a fortune. You always felt some sort of odd connection to it, causing you to never be capable of selling it. It was too special for you, despite the mystery that could've been a curse that attracted you to it and it's red gem

___

They told you to stay inside, but you found a way out nevertheless. They were silly if they didn't know you well enough to see it coming.

This was the very ocean right outside of your new home. The very ocean that the book described, it was right in front of you along with the same town and streets that the book’s main character walked on before in the history of the novel.

Sirens didn't exist, but maybe you could catch a glimpse of something that slightly resembled that of the mythical creature throughout your stay. It would make sense wouldn't it? Possibly if you were a believer.. but unfortunately you weren't.

Even so, you still enthusiastically made your way to the sandy beach located right under the cliff which your house sat over, finding a comfortable rock to sit on as you opened your book and lit up a candle

The young girl, Sharon left everything behind. From her friends and belongings to her town, all due to financial struggles between her parents. However the kind girl looked at things in another light, becoming understanding of her parents' situation and avoiding internal conflicts between herself and her family.

She took out the box which carried the old jewel inside. Seeing the gem glow bright red, reflecting off the same color as that of her eyes. Staring into the piece made her confident in the color of red, it was a beautiful color that many people associated with the wrong things. It was a treasure, and it made her feel the same connection and reassurance that she had felt since the start… since the first ever day she laid eyes on the ring.

She slipped the ring onto her hand, feeling the jewel slide off of her small fingers. However, she kept it on as she made her way to the dark waters that almost felt as if they awaited her.

She walked the path down the forest, catching a glimpse of the bright moon illuminating the cold ocean. It looked beautiful, almost magical as she walked near. Sitting on a rock and brushing her feet against the water, feeling as if it had been bringing her skin smoothness and youth.

“Beautiful night,” The young girl found herself whispering, as she looked far up into the distance to see the figure of a sunken ship, located right behind a chapped rock.

It’s boards and wood sinking down and dissolving into the water as it overflowed.

The news of the sinking ship was everywhere:

“Ship sank under unidentified circumstances.”

“Ship mysteriously begins sinking in the middle of the sea.”

“An unidentified ship reappears on the shores of...”

It was all over the newspapers, disaster would always be destined to happen.

The light of the fire which illuminated the candle flicker off, the strong winds didn't allow it to keep the fire. It was time to head back home and continue reading inside your room, where the wind couldn't get to you despite your delicate windows. It seemed as if a storm was approaching.

You smiled looking up and at the direct spot that the book described, not spotting a single sunken ship. Even if it was there at one point in history, the likelihood that it was actually the fault of a group of sirens and their enchanting voices and illusions was little to none.

As much as you wanted to believe, you knew something like that could only stay in your imagination. The same way dragons and vampires did. They could never exist in the real world, it would just be too dangerous.

Picking yourself up from the rock, you carefully climbed your way down and allowed the light from your barely lit candle to lead you back.

This ocean was close enough to your house that you were able to see the lights turned on in specific rooms. Best get going now if you hoped to not get caught sneaking out like you were strictly told not to.

Walking on the light sand before feeling your shoe step on something hard…

A rock maybe?

You tilted your head to look below you, bending your knees to get a better look at the object.

It was a ring… a blue diamond ring, washed away on the shore of the ocean. It must've been left behind by some tourist or someone who happened to be traveling the water’s. And really you didn't care to find out, as it was left behind and far too valuable to ignore.

You'd simply treasure it. The same way you did with the red ruby ring that you found in your old house when moving in.

“Y/n!” A young boy called out, running over to hug you tightly, almost as if you hadn't seen each other in a long time.

Turning around, you came face to face with a pretty young boy, beautiful cat shaped eyes that glowed as brightly as the day.

“Jungwon? What are you doing here..!?”

He smiled brightly and picked out a bright yellow dandelion from the grass, gently shoving your hair behind your ear and placing it right in between.

“I came to say hello to a friend,” He responded enthusiastically.

You shook your head and looked up, happier than ever.

“I understand but shouldn't you be with a doctor!?” You questioned to which he responded with a giggle and smirked at you.

“They told me that I should be outside a lot and have fun! So I'm following their instructions!”

Face palming yourself, you looked back up softly and picked up a bright yellow dandelion, mimicking his acts and placing it on his hair right above his ear.

He kept his gaze fixed on you, that was until you picked yourself up from the ground and began running around in the small garden right in front of a noble looking home.

Being a kid himself, he followed and chased you across the garden.

You looked happy… excited… like children…

Finally, your brain snapped back to reality.

“What the hell was that…?” You muttered to yourself, being unable to comprehend the vision that gave you more than just deja vu.

You looked into the dark and gloomy ocean, spotting a figure of a young man looking in your direction. His bright brown eyes which seemed to illuminate more than the moon pierced straight through your soul in an almost terrifying manner.

Shaking your head and rubbing your eyes… you convinced yourself to be seeing things.

You looked back in a panic and there was nothing… no figure… no eyes… simply nothing..

“Of course… I must be lacking sleep…” you managed to stutter, snapping back up to your senses and running back home. After all, not getting caught was your main priority right now.

***

And so the kind girl Sharon ran back home, stumbling upon an object which appeared to be a gem, closely resembling that of her own. The young girl picked up the ring and placed it in her pocket, she couldn't just leave it behind. She'd collect it.

Upon looking into the distance, she found herself staring directly into the eyes of a creature in the ocean.

Her kind heart forced her to yell, “Are you alright dear sailor, do you need assistance?”

However, she received no response…

Chills ran down her spine as he stared at her intensely, not even blinking once throughout the entire process… Sharon, upon feeling uneasy decided to run and make someone aware along the way of a possible sailor that could've been in danger.

Little did she know that she had stared into the eyes of that of the most dangerous…

All because she touched what was his… and you should never touch anything that belongs to a siren…

____

“Jungwon. For dear god’s sake, why are we doing this?”

Jungwon turned around once again and sighed, “For the 100th thousand millionth time, it's because that young lady took my ring. So I'm returning for it.”

“Indeed but this is a bother. Someone's going to find out one way or another and we'll be dead… Why can't we return to the shore and find you another identical ring? There's plenty in the ocean-”

He froze mid sentence upon seeing the eyes of his little brother staring at him. Despite being older, Jungwon intimidated him and he couldn't deny it. Jungwon’s strong point was his eyes and he fully took advantage of that.

“Jake- if you would like to return you can always do so… I didn't need you to come either way-” Jungwon managed to mutter softly.

Jake frowned, “I'll stay with you. I don't want you out here in the human world alone with absolutely no one supervising you.”

Jungwon smiled and nodded, “Alright then, let's make this fast.”

Jake followed his little brother. He had always doubted the connection that Jungwon claimed to have with his ring up until now; more like up until a year ago. Whereas Jungwon dropped his ring while traveling in the oceans at night and was somehow able to find it immediately after he noticed. Retracing his steps and locating the small object in the depths of the massive ocean. Jake was sure that he had a tracker on that thing because that would've been otherwise impossible.

And right now was no exception, in fact it was only convincing Jake furthermore that there must've been a hidden tracker somewhere within the tiny corners of that small ring.

Jake’s frown only turned into an annoyed stare as he watched Jungwon get ahead of himself, leading them to who the heck knew where. “Do you even know what she looked like?”

Jungwon shook his head, still keeping his gaze forward, “Absolutely not.”

Jake sighed, “Why did I expect that… with that keen eyesight of yours I really would've expected you to at least see her hair color.”

“It was dark hyung-” Jungwon completed, noticing Jake nod in agreement.

“I know but for some reason you can spot everything about a person at night except for the thief of your ring… and what if she sold it already?”

Jungwon sighed and shook his head, “I’d rather not think about it but in that case scenario then we'd have to purchase it again-”

Jake stared at Jungwon, “You can't be serious.”

Jungwon turned around, “Should I rephrase that? I'd rather say- I'd have to purchase it again.”

“There's dozens of trade shops on land- how are you gonna locate the exact one!?” Jake asked, almost yelling to which Jungwon backed away nervously and blinked a couple of times before answering.

“I'll find it, don't worry.”

Jake was upset but he wanted to support his brother. That ring was special to Jungwon ever since infancy and he didn't want to say anything rude or careless, let alone both.

“By the way, lower your voice because other people are going to hear you and will suspect us. You're going to throw us both under the bus with your yelling-”

Jake bowed to his little brother and apologized repeatedly, “I'm sorry, it's a little complicated to contain my emotions to a certain volume.”

Jungwon shook his head in denial. “It’d be quite alright if you hadn’t told me earlier that being on land was far too risky. I know just as much as you do so you have to keep in mind that one wrong move could land in us having our heads chopped off,” he expressed, to which Jake simply put his palm up to his forehead.

“Don’t even mention it.”

Suddenly, Jake crashed into a woman who had been walking the same streets they had been, maybe around her early 20’s. Despite the cloak that had been covering her face she looked quite beautiful. Long hair neatly put up in a ponytail and perfectly arranged across her shoulder.

“Oh, I beg your pardon as I was distracted-” Jake stuttered out nervously, noticing her turn around and bow in apology.

Jungwon’s gaze swiftly shifted onto her eyes, his alert up high.

“I apologize- I was a little careless myself.” You chuckled. Jake froze in silence, ultimately overcome by the beauty that he never knew could belong to a human.

Jungwon smiled, “I excuse my older brother- nevertheless what is such a beautiful young woman doing around here alone? Not to mention you yourself look quite of noble status. Is there a reason behind this?”

Suddenly becoming nervous, you began fidgeting with your fingers. “Haha- was it obvious that i’m a noble?” you muttered, to which Jungwon nodded.

“Your clothes and form of speech give it away.”

You laughed ever so slightly and nodded. “You see, I’m actually new to this area and happened to grow curious about exploring the town as the views are spectacular.”

Jungwon looked over to where you turned; the ocean that he himself had belonged to. The cold ocean that had belonged to him and many others who were just like him.

“I see that you are drawn by the landscape?” Jungwon turned over to you, seeing you nod in approval.

“Correct. I don’t come from a very green place like this one, so this feels almost like a wonderland… like those types of forest or villages that you read in fairytales.”

Bingo.

That was all he needed to know… this was her… the girl who had visited the ocean the other day late at night… the thief of his ring that was so very beloved to him.

“I happen to notice that you have a specific love for reading?” Jungwon questioned, noticing your eyes light up as you looked back up at him.

“You seem to be very good at guessing- yes, I very much do love reading books and novels.” you blinked, a little taken aback by how well this stranger seemed to know you.

“I’m glad. I happen to enjoy reading myself.”

You felt some type of odd aura about him.. You were unsure if it was just you overthinking or if this was actually something that you should’ve been concerned about. From the moment he spoke you felt nothing but comfort, you felt safe. Which wasn’t something an ordinary human could’ve made you feel,

~~~

Walking up to a fruit stand, the lady in front smiled at you.

“I’ve never seen you around before, are you new around here?” she asked, making you nod in agreement.

“You’d be correct, I’m not from here, I hope that is alright,” you responded, seeing her nod repeatedly in reassurance to your doubts.

You looked back at the ocean that you felt attracted to for some odd reason. It wasn’t clear to you whether you only felt that way because of your book or because there was actually something magical about it… not to mention the eyes… those eyes that glowed brighter than the moonlight..

“I happen to notice that you really like our water’s?” She smiled, to which you flinched as you didn’t notice her staring.

“I do… may I ask why no families are down there constantly?” you questioned, noticing her give you a confused glance making you panic in case you asked the wrong question. “I’m a little confused because normally there would be a couple of swimmers, no?” you added, your nerves making you unable to say the sentence correctly.

Luckily, she understood you and waved her hand in dismissal.

“Oh dear, it’s prohibited to swim in any waters around here.”

You stayed silent, confused yet amused. “May I ask why…?”

She turned back to look at you, “Oh dear, haven’t you heard? It became banned around the late 1850’s due to the amount of siren spotting there had been. Not to mention the amount of ships that went missing in such a short period of time around this area recently. I feel so poorly for all the families of those navigators..”

Thoughts began circulating in your mind. That wasn’t possible… After all siren’s weren’t real.. They have never been real. They were mythical creatures.

“By the way dear, be very careful with who you trust on this land. Siren’s are very alluring creatures who roam around this town just as freely as regular citizens. Don’t get confident just because we're not in the sea.”

“Wait- siren’s can shapeshift and blend into humanity too?” You exclaimed, almost yelling in surprise before you caught yourself and covered your mouth, lowering your voice to a lower volume.

The woman chuckled, “Why, of course they can.”

“How can I spot a siren…? Among all these humans…?”

She looked around and signaled you to come closer, you followed her orders and leaned in.

“Siren’s will always have attractive and manipulating eyes… never forget that as it may save your life one day.”

~~~

His eyes were gorgeous… almost hypnotizing to look at, you've never seen eyes so gorgeous like his, they seemed almost unreal.

Face to face with a pretty young man, beautiful cat shaped eyes that glowed as brightly as the day.

Face perfect and screaming off the sense of innocence. Almost making you think that this was in fact the reincarnation of the word itself. Which in itself was odd enough,

But you couldn't judge a book by it's cover. After all you weren't even a believer- just a little frightened by something a woman had said earlier. You needed proof of sirens before you actually believed in them, even though there was no way of explaining what you had happened to see down in the shore the other night.

However, his eyes were that of something supernatural and you felt it.

___

You found yourself walking late at night alone in the streets of the town; surrounded by people and their terrified whispers.

“What time did you say sirens come out again?”

“I think I may have just run into a siren- it's eyes look surreal-”

Sirens, surreal looking eyes. Put together it made sense.

Something not human could never fully shapeshift or become a human. There will always be something that gives it away.

However, this was going too far.

“Hey, we meet again.” A voice from behind you called, snatching the magazine from your grip and rolling it up in between his hands.

“Oh- good afternoon..?”

“It would be good night as of right now.” He smiled. You'd be lying if you said you didn't get flustered the moment he did so, seeing him smile with such a handsome face. There was no way you couldn't react.

Smiling back, a bit of pink flushing over your cheeks. “Yes, I apologize. I happened to be making my way back home right now; I hope you can excuse me.”

His face became a small smirk, almost teasing as he looked back at you. “From what I can see, you don't happen to be accompanied by anyone?” He asked, despite your guard going up high, there was no use in lying, you had run into this same man earlier and you had been alone, so you simply nodded.

“Would you like me to come with? Better not get tricked by any sirens.”

You felt your cheeks warm up again, flustered by this man and his alluring personality.

“What did you say your name was again?” You asked, realizing you had never gotten his name in the first place. Unconsciously beginning to walk, making your way back home.

This almost felt familiar….

Sharon walked her way back home with the claimed stranger which she had seen earlier that day.

Questions arose from the young girl's mouth, not anything wrong, at least not to the ears of something so magical and mythical like a siren.

“What was your name again?” Sharon asked in a low pitched muffle.

“I couldn't catch that.” His eyes glew in the dark as his mouth spoke. Something about this man was so alluring and she couldn't catch a grip of what it might've been.

Maybe his attractiveness? His eyes? Seductive and teasing nature perhaps? Everything about him seemed surreal, the way his words were able to manipulate her to make decisions that she wouldn't have made otherwise. It almost seemed effortless.

Sharon smiled nervously, “Your name. I didn't manage to catch it.”

He grinned, “Edward.”

One of the rules about a siren, they only ever said their first names in an introduction, never their last. They didn't have a last name to give, at least not now.

Sharon looked back at the man who walked behind her, his eyes locking on hers as she kept the eye contact for a hot moment. It wasn't willingly, because something about his eyes felt as if there was some type of rope connecting and bonding their souls, as she was unable to look away.

“You have beautiful eyes Edward.” She smiled, noticing him nod knowingly.

“I've been told before, young Sharon.”

It felt odd, they were both young, around each other's age perhaps. It was likely a form of speech however it was still off putting. Sharon could never get used to being called young by someone who looked so young themselves.

“Alright then; Edward, how old are you.”

It was a forbidden question and she knew it. Sirens didn't have an age, at least not that they were aware of. Normally becoming unable to answer the question properly, ending up in them executing their plans earlier than expected, causing a scene that would be far too messy to clean up afterwards.

“Not sure. I was abandoned at a young age and have no idea of when something so basic like my birthday is.” He responded, voice lowering as he turned to his side.

Good answer, Sharon thought. Looking back at the young man and smiling.

“You look fairly young. Edward.”

He was taken aback, he normally disliked the mention of just his first name because of how disrespectful it sounded, and this… this had been the third time she directed him by his first name solely.

He looked at her sharply, “If you could, I'd really appreciate a title in the beginning like Mr before my name.”

The young girl turned around enthusiastically, still skipping towards the direction of her house rapidly as she laughed softly. Her face giving off nothing but innocence.

“But why? Edward is a pretty name. A last name like … would suit you impeccably!” She exclaimed.

“Jungwon.” He answered.

Walking up the pathway which sat on the hill that led up to your house, grass awaiting you at the top.

“Well then, Jungwon do you believe in sirens?” You asked, almost testing him for an unknown reason that not even you knew.

It seemed like he had caught onto this, as he half sighed, half chuckled. “You really can't believe nor not believe in something you haven't seen before. There will always be those who claim to have seen other worldly creatures, you can't believe them, but you can't proclaim them as liars either.” He smiled.

Good answer, you thought.

“Say, Jungwon, how old are you?” You grinned, noticing him do the same.

It's a test, he thought to himself, unable to think of the correct answer if there even was one. As a siren one of their biggest pet pieves was lying. He couldn't even make up something to protect himself unless if he wanted to be looked down on.

“Not sure, I don't even know something so simple like my birthday.” He frowned. You looked back, sincere nostalgia hitting you the moment those words came out from his mouth, however you were unable to pinpoint why or where it was coming from.

“I see,” you added, turning around and looking at him directly.

Unable to hold back, you looked back at him and sighed.

“Do you believe sirens are as evil as humans depict them to be?” You found yourself asking, continuing to walk forward even if the answer he'd give held you anxious.

He grinned and kept his gaze on you, despite not looking at him you could feel his eyes pierced through your skin.

“I think it's similar to humans. There's bad people out there and there's good. I don't see why something so similar should be any different. Sirens are technically human, that's why they don't have too much trouble blending into humanity, they can pull it off rather easily in a matter of fact.”

Your shoulders fell in relief, not even noticing the way they had been so tense.

“I'm glad to hear that,” You smiled, “It’s better to not take guesses about creatures we have never seen or met before.”

He nodded.

“She's different.”

“Well, Jungwon, it looks like we've arrived.”

He nodded and peaked his attention to the house he found himself at.

He had forgotten completely, he was here for a reason and he was going to leave with that one reason fulfilled. He didn't need any doubts.

“It has been an honor my lady.” He leaned down, asking for your hand.

You gave it to him, and he landed a singular kiss on the tip. It was a regular gentleman act at the time, however your cheeks could help but rose and warm up, it was a little shameful to have fallen head over heels for a stranger.

“Yang Jungwon?”

Snapping, he immediately looked up at you.

Yang Jungwon, Yang Jungwon, Yang Jungwon

That name rang in his ear like a bell, repeatedly. What was this? Why did it sound so familiar to him?

“I'll hope to see you another day.” You smiled.

He simply smiled back and waved, nodding in response regarding your statement that had been said a little unexpectedly.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, as you looked at the bed with the pale kid who was at once a healthy boy... your friend.

“I would like to give you this.” He handed the hand which had been clenched shut, holding onto the piece tightly. “I unfortunately don't have much time left, however I would like to give you this. That way if we ever reincarnate again, I'll find you.”

You couldn't contain your emotions, the tears streamed down your face and a wave of emotions hit you.

You entered your home, closing the door behind you while holding your fingers and making your way upstairs to your room. You wanted to take a cold shower before heading off to bed.

Slipping off the coat and relocating it onto a chair that sat in front of your desk. Looking down at your fingers and noticing the bright blue ring missing. Only being left with your original red ruby ring.

You looked everywhere in a panic. Had you dropped it on your way back? It would've been possible as it slipped off of your tiny fingers constantly. It was far too oversized for you.

Suddenly the memory overcame you. He kissed your wrist, in contact with your hand and fingers directly.

Looking out the window, seeing the moon glowing bright blue with a tint of red on a few corners of it. The water in the ocean splashed as if something or someone had just went back in. Enough time has passed, the ring was his priority

Yang Jungwon, who are you?

It was about time, Sharon thought.

There was always going to be different habitats for every living organism. Humans would locate on land, you'd find them there if you ever found yourself searching. Maraine animals would be found in the water, and wild animals would be in the depths of the trees.

Just like marine animals don't belong on land, humans don't belong in the water. The same was wild animals wouldn't belong in the ocean, they wouldn't survive.

It was the same way that the world worked, it was cycle.

Sharon wrote furiously onto the sheets of paper, many stacked up on the side and many scattered on the floor, it was unavoidable to anyone who experienced the same that she had.

The main message the young girl left for anyone and everyone who dared to pick up and look at the contents of this novel which started out as a diary.

History repeats itself. Never doubt it.

[blacklegsanjiii]

Okay but- have you think about just ONE of Sanji brothers being good? Like, Ichiji. The most perfect son. The future king of Germa. Ichiji, the first prince. Who has emotions just like Sanji (even if he struggles with them unlike the blonde) and never, ever punched him before, always intenting to subtly stop Niji and Yonji from beating him up. He wishes he could do more, but he can't now.

Until their mother dies and Judge locks his dear younger brother.

It's like something scream to him that he should get Sanji fucking out of here and leave alongside. And he hears. He saves his dear brother and run away, both, together.

And then, both where rescued by Mihawk and the Warlord!Sanji happens, but with Ichiji too.

Unlike the blonde, he really don't like interacting and prefers to stay hidden/with his parents (mostly Dracule and Croc). He gets surprised when the news about Portgas D. "Fire Fist" Ace being Sanji's boyfriend comes out during Marineford, but he helps stop the execution.

God, anon, this is fucking gold I love it. Holy shit. I love your brain. It got out of hand and like Ichiji is too important for it to be just glanced over.

Ichiji who just can't wrap his head around why they're different but knows he needs to protect Sanji and save him. He may be the Crown Prince, superseding his older sister for whatever awful reason and doesn't understand his emotions like Sanji does and Sora tries to help. Ichiji who helps Sanji get patched up when he can't stop Niji and Yonji and Reiju turns her head and scoffs. Then their mother dies.

Then Sanji dies.

Except he's not dead. He's in the dungeon with a helmet and Ichiji feels the pure rage and eventually breaks them both out and breaks the helmet of Sanji who is so much smaller than he should be. They work on the Orbit and when Zeff attacks and saves them on the rock it takes Ichiji much longer to starve than Sanji but he does. They find Zeff who gave his leg for them and their dreams, for Sanji to find the All Blue and Ichiji to be there for his brother and find his way in life.

When Mihawk picks them up he's absorbing the information he is given and suddenly has two kids coming with him to Kuraigana and they're twins but completely different sizes and Ichiji tells him everything about Germa and what's been happening to them. Mihawk is just staring at the brothers in both disbelief and horror and decides he's not going to really let them out of his sight.

The first Warlord meeting they attend with Mihawk, Sanji is still hiding in Mihawk's coat and Ichiji is glaring at them from Mihawk's side with crossed arms. Everyone is looking at the children but the meeting is normal except for the children reading under the table. The meeting takes forever and they fall asleep and Doffy pulls them both out because he's long, not only is he tall he's just long and when he looks at Mihawk because this is some typa shit Doffy has pulled, like he has kids that he acquired somehow.

"Would you believe they're twins?" Mihawk asks dully as Doffy holds them.

"What the fuck did you do to them?" Crocodile asks.

"They came like that." Mihawk sighs.

"Did you buy children?" Boa asks with anger.

"No, I saved them and Redleg from a rock and they came with me." Mihawk responds. The warlords stare at them. "They're also the presumed dead princes of Germa."

"Hawkeye, with all due respect, what were you thinking?" Jinbei asks as he rubs his temples.

"I don't know." Mihawk answers truthfully.

The next meeting the other four have managed to pull together some things maybe the boys will like. Maybe. There's some drawing stuff, more laid back children's books, a book of maps. The boys are staring at them but give their thanks as they settle in for the meeting and afterwards the warlords try to talk to them but Ichiji answers mostly. Sanji hiding behind him, nervous, as the elder talks to the most dangerous pirates of the seas about their dreams.

When Mihawk goes on the job Croc still takes them first. Sanji and Ichiji are enamored with Anna and the bananawanis and they get along great with her and it's actually really nice for them to have a pet, even for a short period of time that isn't trying to kill them and eat them. At some point Ichiji shoots lasers at somebody who got a little too close. No one was hurt but Baroque works is staring at the kid with confusion as Ichiji shrugs them off. When Crocodile asks the only answer he is given is a shrug by Mihawk.

Then Doffy kidnaps them because there's another job and everyone is arguing over the laser kid and his little cook of a brother and who gets to take them. Doffy sees an opportunity and just takes them without anyone noticing and gets them lunch before they leave and he strings along the city making them laugh. Baby 5 and Ichiji love sparring and Sanji is allowed in the kitchen at his pleasure. When Doffy is holding the three of them to put to bed he can feel a weird feeling in his chest and he doesn't like it. He killed his brother he doesn't want to kill them too.

While Jinbei has them he teaches them about meditation and learns a lot about them because he is much calmer than the previous warlords. He calmly takes Ichiji's worry and agression as he trains them. Ichiji is fiercely protective because of their past. Jinbei simply acknowledges this and says he does need to let Sanji move forward, for both of them to be their own person. Sanji says he should find his own dream and as much as he loves Ichiji his life shouldn't revolve around protecting him. Their mother would have wanted him to be free too and if he's tied to Sanji that isn't freedom. Ichiji thinks a lot about that and decides he's still going to protect Sanji or will beat up whoever beats Sanji up. Jinbei laughs full bellied and loud and says that's a good start and asks if there's anything he likes to do. Turns out Ichiji has been getting a lot of use out of the drawing supplies and Jinbei nods. Of course the brothers have picked artistic talents of their own, similar yet distinct enough to be their own.

When Boa gets them she's going to treat them like the little princes they were except they don't really have clothes for boys there. So they're put in dresses and extra flowy pants and shirts. Boa smiling and taking care of them as they adjust to being royalty where it's not a fight to death or being on edge that they're going to be attacked. Boa and her sisters explain that most royal systems are not like Germa. They find they like the styles of the shirts and pants and dresses better than a lot of things they've worn and they have the ability to show their differences because they've mostly just been dressed in the same type of training clothes. So to be able to not be in training clothes or numbered like in Germa is huge to them and Ichiji runs around with Sanji on his back and they're laughing on the beaches of Amazon Lily and Boa smiles as she puts their joy into her mind forever.

They grow up well loved and doing what they love. Perona fully adopts them as her baby brothers and dolls them up. She's four years older than them and takes them out for the boring parts of warlord meetings/parent hand overs. She is the cool goth older sister who absolutely buys them cigarettes. She, Baby 5, and Ichiji have also somehow formed a makeshift gang that follows Sanji much to his displeasure but it's so fucking funny for laser beams to fry a Marine's cap when they're getting a little too close to Sanji. Or when Sanji is working a waiter or dishwasher or whoever. No matter what the parents say.

Except they miss when Sanji sets off and Ichiji pouts on Kuraigana for months. Sanji doesn't call or write and his poster is fucking awful. When he and Mihawk go to Ace's execution after Perona and Zoro arrive and Ichiji avoids him so that he doesn't wig the swordsman out. During the war his transponder goes off from Mihawk.

"Fire Fist is dating Sanji." Is all that's said so Ichiji joins the fray with his laser eyes. They save Ace and Luffy get them out. He goes with Crocodile after the war. Eventually on Karai Bari when the Strawhats and Ace, newly a part of the crew, show up. Ace and Luffy point at Ichiji and say that he's the red Sanji from Marineford.

"So you guys got Dad arrested, and Mama is dealing with the whole Navy thing by herself and Pops is on your crew?" Ichiji asks Sanji.

"On top of waging war against two emperors which one is dead, and the other is just...fucked up, I guess." Sanji nods.

"You have anything cool now?" Ichiji asks.

"I can sky walk and set myself on fire." Sanji nods.

"Fucking shit if Boa sends her damn snake on us, I'm feeding it to Anna." Crocodile grouses.

"There are much bigger things to deal with." Mihawk assures Crocodile. "For example, Fire Fist needs a proper shovel talk and I'm leaving that up to you both." Mihawk says he leaves.

"Oh right." Ichiji grins as Ace looks at Sanji.

"He helped me escape Tottoland, he doesn't need a shovel talk!" Sanji defends.

"Wrong." Crocodile and Ichiji retort as Sanji sighs and everyone starts asking who the fuck raised them.

[deiaiko]

#22.9 Kindness

Ran woke up with far less aching than he anticipated. Though what shocked him more was that the long haired FUG was the first one to greet him.

"Oh. Hello." The FUG guy, Bam –as A.A called him– wore a soft smile, but half of his face was still hidden behind his long bangs. Ran didn't know if he wanted to respond to him or not. 

"Ran~!" Shibisu cried fake tears, "My cutie~ you made me worried!" Ran grimaced when Shibisu leaped from his seat with two hands outstretched. He was so troublesome, but at least he was good at noticing the line he shouldn't cross, by stopping himself from actually enveloping Ran in an embrace.

Ran gritted his teeth and pushed himself up to sit to get a better look at his surroundings. Seemed like there were only the three of them in the room.

"Mr. Agni said he has healed most of your injuries, and he left you here to rest until you feel better." Bam informed him unprompted. "Khun and Mr. Rak had just left to get lunch at the cafeteria, they should be back soon."

Ran ignored him. He had no intentions to be friendly with this guy. He also noticed that Shibisu was oddly quiet, observing him and Bam. And Ran felt his judging stare pricking his skin and poking his conscience.

Bam glanced at Shibisu, and Shibisu raised an eyebrow. They seemed to have a short telepathic conversation.

"Ah, sorry. I should've introduced myself first. My name's Bam, but you can also call me Viole. I'm Mr– ah, I'm Shibisu's old teammate."

Ran already knew. He had heard about Bam from hushed tales between his allies; about an irregular that took the test with A.A's team and died back on the second floor.

Despite the fact that this person named Bam was long gone, A.A's world seemed to still revolve around him. Like how he couldn't seem to let go of their team that bickered all the time, and how his goal was to take that annoying blonde girl to climb despite his unsubtle hatred toward her.

But the worst of it was how A.A would be so hard on himself to ensure every floor test went perfectly. 

And truthfully, Ran had hated this Bam ever since, for making A.A live like that.

"Are you thirsty, Ran? You haven't spoken in a bit." Shibisu pulled Ran out of his thoughts.

Ran cleared his throat at the mention. And Shibisu was right; his throat actually felt so dry that he wanted to talk even less. Too troublesome.

"Ah, right. Uhm…here." Bam picked up and offered him a glass of water, along with a pill in a small container. "Mr. Agni told us to give this to you, he said it could help relieve some pain."

Ran was skeptical about taking the pill, so he only accepted the water. He watched Bam place the container back on the table, silently glad that neither of them forced him to take it.

Bam was being really thoughtful so far. Maybe he'd consider giving Bam a chance to justify himself. To prove that he could be forgiven for hurting A.A in such a way.

"...Ran." Ran mumbled, "My name's Ran."

Bam beamed and Ran had to mentally squint from the sudden rays of sunlight, "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Ran! If you need anything else, just tell me. I'll do my best to assist you."

Ah, troublesome. Ran immediately regretted his decision.

However, now he understood why A.A had been so devoted. A.A was weak to kindness, because Ran knew they both grew up without it. And as far as Ran knew, A.A had always chased after something hard to attain, one of a kind. Whether it was jewelry, weapons, authority,...even people. And Bam fit the criteria too well.

The automatic door opened and revealed A.A. Their eyes inevitably locked and A.A's disappointment was clear to Ran.

Think of the devil…Ran felt his annoyance bar rapidly rising.

"What did I tell you?" A.A navigated his way to them, not once breaking his glare. "Only consume redan when it's absolutely necessary."

Ran was taking none of it. "Hmph!" He had lots of fun with the spar, so he wouldn't say he regretted it.

A moment passed with A.A still staring daggers into him. It almost made Ran feel bad. Almost. In the end, A.A sighed and let it slide. "Suit yourself."

A.A brought three plates filled with an assortment of food. Though Ran figured that none of them were for him. Ran's stomach rumbled defiantly when the smell reached his nose.

Instead of being teased, Ran was taken aback when Bam offered him his yet untouched food. "You can have this, Mr. Ran."

Ran didn't know how to react to that, feeling a little uncomfortable. He felt like it would be wrong to refuse, but he didn't want it. He looked at A.A instead, hoping that he'd get the hint.

A.A noticed this and said, "You don't have to be nice to him, Bam."

"Hm? Why?"

Unfortunately A.A didn't say a better explanation other than, "Because that's how it is with him."

Shibisu slung his arms around Bam's neck. "What Khun meant is…Ran appreciates your thoughtfulness, but I think he would rather get his own food than take yours because he doesn't want to bother you. Right?"

Isu winked at Ran, and Ran rolled his eyes. That was not exactly true, but it was a softer way to put it. "As he said."

"Ah," Bam retracted his offering hands, "I see."

Ran wasted no time and swung his feet off the bed, glad to find that they weren't hurting as much. 

Bam had leaped from his seat as well, ready to catch Ran with his free hand if Ran didn't make it to stand. However it only made Ran much more eager to leave the room and get away from Bam.

Getting nice gestures from someone else he barely knew usually means they have ulterior motives, and he was so tired of being treated that way.

Bam might have meant well, seeing how much A.A trusted Bam. But Ran just hadn't gotten used to receiving kindness.

"Well then," Ran went for the door and it automatically opened for him. He didn't bother to look back to check if they followed him out. "I'll go and get some food."

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