#was initially splitting the pair with someone else

[petitesmafia]

THEY ARRIVED ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

[shra-vasti]

I DON'T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND, PJS (PART 1)

• SYNOPSIS: A fleeting encounter with Park Jay at a high school party leaves a quiet imprint on your then broken heart. Years later, you find him again, now as an icy guitarist of the campus boy band, HYPHENIX. You never spoke again, but you remembered his eyes, his words, his presence and how he lingered at the back of your mind years after. You wanted to reach for him, but he was so far, popular, untouchable that you decided to pour your heart to him in secret, until the secret was revealed but someone else claimed it before you could. Or in which you pour your heart into anonymous letters for the cold, distant guitarist, Jay, only to watch your best friend claim every word as her own.

• PAIRING: Park Jongseong (Jay) x afab!reader

• WORD COUNT: 21.4k (Part 1)

• CONTENT TAGS: Non idol au, university settings, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn, shy reader x popular Jay, down bad reader, betrayal, abandonment, miscommunications or lack of communications, profanities, name calling, stereotyping, best friend's boyfriend, reader is nosy and loves other people's business way too much (my twin fr), fear of rejection and unwanted attention, body image issues in the beginning, toxic relationships and friendships, low-key stalker reader, reader wears glasses, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything.

PART 2

• AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic turned out to be more lengthy than I initially planned, so I am splitting it into 2 part. Lmk if you want to be tagged for part 2 when I post it. Your likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed and appreciated. Thank you so much for showering my write ups with your love. Happy reading♡♡

The music blaring through the speakers hit you first, deep bass vibrating through the pavement long before you reached the house. It meddled with your heartbeat, getting louder with decreasing distance from the party. You sighed leaning your head on the car's window, the house looked unfamiliar, windows glowing red, blue, green against the night. You didn't know whose house this was, just that your boyfriend said everyone would be there and to let yourself loose from time to time. You fixed the glasses on your nose, and adjusted your jacket, you turned your head to look at your boyfriend.

He looked in your direction briefly when he felt your gaze on him before sighing, "don't stress too much." You gulped, feeling anxious, "I don't really know anyone there Joon," you started, eyes brimming with worry, "you'll stay by my side right?" You heard him exhale a deep breath before throwing a wink at you, "yes babe, don't worry, you look really beautiful today, I'm stressed someone will steal you away from me." You pushed him a bit, blush creeping on your neck as you turned back towards the window. 

Cars were lined up the driveway, recklessly parked. You wouldn't expect anything less from high schoolers anyway. You could hear the screams and laughter from the porch, it was loud and chaotic and it made your stomach churned. "Let's go," your eyes followed your boyfriend's actions, and you proceeded to take off your seatbelt. He stood beside the door tapping his foot impatiently, you shook your head and opened your side of the door. He locked the door behind you and started making his way towards the house. You hurriedly rushed behind him, and then slowed your steps down when you reached beside him. 

The air was thick inside, tangled in a weird mix of cheap perfume, alcohol and something burning, maybe it was food or the fireworks you didn't know. Your hand latched onto your boyfriend's sleeve as soon as you entered. The environment was warm, crowded, strangers pressed against each other like puzzle pieces that don't belong together. The LED lights stung your eyes. You moved through the crowd tightly pressed against your boyfriend's side. Every corner of the room was alive with conversations you weren't a part of, some shouting over the music, some laughing at their friend's antics, some posing for pictures. The walls of the house felt suffocating though it was relatively big, the energy inside too much, reminding you that you don't belong here. 

The music was pounding in your ears, too loud, too bothersome. You stood beside your boyfriend, who anxiously texted his friends asking where they are. Your eyes trailed towards the dance floor, bodies swayed with the rhythm of the music, some too close, some trying not to lose their balance. It happened too fast, one moment your boyfriend was beside you, another moment he rushed towards the other side of the room completely disregarding your presence. Your eyes followed him, your steps following suit. Someone shouted over the bass, out of frustration or joy you couldn't tell. 

You grabbed your boyfriend's hand, your action making him stop to look at you. Just in time someone crashed into your shoulder, their clumsy actions making you stumble as a slosh of liquid hit the floor beneath you and onto your heel-cladded feet. The sticky scent of fruit punch or some weird concoction clung in the air, few people gathered around to look at the mess before laughing and stepping over it like it didn't matter. Your feet felt sticky and your boyfriend rolled his eyes at the sight, "how about you go to the bathroom and clean yourself? I'll wait for you here." You grimaced before nodding your head at your boyfriend and making your way towards the bathroom. 

You washed your feet and heels with irritation seeping deep in your bones, this is the exact reason why you don't do parties, it's messy and loud and everything you tend to avoid. After drying your feet and heels with tissue, you took a brief look at yourself in the mirror. You combed your fingers through your loose hair to make them a tad bit presentable, fixing your glasses yet again you sighed and texted your boyfriend to meet near the dance floor. You made your way out of the bathroom and towards the dance floor, scanning the room for your boyfriend as you waited for him to text you back. 

"Joon?" You tapped his shoulder when you found him leaning on the wall as he chatted with someone animatedly. He turned around, visible irritation laced on his face as he excused himself and made his way in the opposite direction, you followed suit, confused about his sudden discontent towards you. "Joon, where are you going? I asked you to wait for me, didn't I?" He stopped abruptly when he was sure he was away from the eyesight of his friends. You collided with his back, "I was just catching up with my friends! Can't you at least leave me alone for a few minutes?" You shuddered at his high-pitched tone, "you know I don't like partying yet I came since you promised that you'll stay by my side."

"Gosh you're so clingy-" his voice was cut off when someone called out his name, both of you turned around towards the person, "is this your girl Joon? Won't you introduce her to us?" You eyed the girl who smiled at you after giving your boyfriend a sharp side eye. He shrugged, ushering her to join others before he turned towards you. "Take your jacket and glasses off, try to look good for me in front of my friends, I've a reputation to uphold." Your eyes widened at his words rendering you speechless. It was the first time he had uttered those words to you, was he ashamed of introducing you to his friends just as you were? You thought he loved you for you. 

All of your thoughts came to a halt when he turned you around and took off your jacket despite you protesting. You weren't comfortable with showing much skin. He knew that the spaghetti strap top you were wearing underneath made you feel more conscious about yourself and your surroundings. He threw the jacket somewhere on the couch, grabbing your hand and made his way towards his friends. "Joon, you know I'm not good with people, what are you doing?" He ignored your pleas as he stopped in front of his friends. You put your head down, hoping somehow they'll focus on your boyfriend and forget that you existed. 

"Your girlfriend is really pretty, Joon." One of the girls from his circle chimed, her nails lightly scratching his arms, she didn't even spare you a glance as she went on about how pretty you are, and how funny you must be. Everyone else looked a bit uncomfortable at the exchange aside from your boyfriend and her. Someone cleared their throat to break the awkward tension and your boyfriend snapped from his trance and proceeded to introduce you. Awkward and sympathetic smiles greeted you in return, their eyes meeting with each other like they knew something you didn't. The same girl asked you to have a drink, laughing obnoxiously loud as you declined as if not abusing your liver was a mundane thought to have. 

Joon grabbed the drink from the waiter and held your face with one hand as he forced you to drink whatever it was in that cup, you pushed him, startled by him constantly crossing your boundaries without a single care. The whole group gasped as he stumbled backward and fell on the ground. Few of his friends took out their cameras to record the scene. You wiped the remnants of the drink dropping down from your mouth, your eyes fixed on the way your boyfriend glared at you. The girl from earlier sat by his side, words of venom spilling off from her cherry lips as she helped your boyfriend get up. And with the way your boyfriend's hand rested low on her lips and the concern etched on her face, you knew what place you held in your boyfriend's life.

You shook your head as you made your way towards the back of the house, taking off your glasses momentarily to wipe the tears that managed to fall off your eyes. The backyard was nearly empty save it from a few people who were smoking joints in the corner. You made your way towards the small staircase which led towards the gazebo and sat there, contemplating on your reactions towards your boyfriend's actions. You turned to look if he followed you but got more disappointed as you saw him wrapping his arms around the girl instead. You couldn't figure out if the shiver that went down your spine and the goosebumps on your skin was because of your boyfriend's actions or because of the weather. 

You let the tears flow, your glasses fogging up as you took deep breaths to control losing your shit right at a stranger's house. This isn't how you planned the start of your weekend to go, yet here you were, drowning in your misery as your mind went back to all the things your boyfriend did previously which you ignored. You were too busy believing in his potential that you forgot to look at how he is in the present. All the lies, the excuses, the missed dates, the secrecy everything played in front of your eyes like a tape record on loop. You blame yourself for letting him play with you for so long. 

You stopped crying when a blurry image came into view, you took off your glasses, wiped it with the hem of your top and put it back to get a better view. You heard a sigh from beside you, as your vision adjusted, a handkerchief. You took it in your hand and wiped your tears, unable to look at the person who handed it to you. "Young love, huh? Must be painful..." your eyes fell on the stranger who sat beside you, a half-smile adorning his face, not unkind but more like he knew how you were feeling, "but hey, heartbreak makes a good story for later, right?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his comment, "you're saying it like you're some old man trapped in a hot boy body." 

"You're saying I'm hot?" Your cheeks flared up with heat as you let the weight of your words sink in your head, your eyes widened in embarrassment as he just laughed. You took in his appearance, he was laughing with his head thrown back, carefree and unfiltered like he owned the world. His cheeks flushed, either from alcohol or laughing, you weren't sure. His smile was wide, the kind of smile which made people look at him twice even without meaning to. His hair's a little messy, pushed back like he ran his hands through it one to many times. His eyes shined with a tipsy charm as they locked with yours, the kind of eyes which makes you forget your own name even when he's sober. 

"I saw what happened back there, thought you'd appreciate a company," his words brought your mind back to your current situation, frown appearing on your relaxed face once again. You sighed, hugged yourself, maybe you could use some company, "I really thought he loved me," you started, head hanging low as you felt shame consume you for being so stupid, "I let him break one too many of my boundaries." He sighed as he took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders. His scent enveloped your senses, calming your frantic heart a little, "dump him, he's not worth it and you're better than this." 

You looked at him briefly, "I don't know if I have that much confidence in me, I don't have anyone else other than him." His hand made its way to your chin, lifting it up slightly, you're met with his sharp gaze, "confidence isn't loud you know, sometimes confidence is just choosing yourself over others. And I believe you're closer to choosing yourself than you think." His determined eyes and lopsided smile made your heart skip a bit. He reluctantly removed his hand from your chin, coughing awkwardly as he looked away as if his words didn't really pierced through your heart. "You think so?" You questioned meekly as you fiddled with your fingers. He looked at the sky, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped, "You don't need to be confident to walk away. You just need to take one step. And yeah, maybe you feel like he is all you have right now but he is not all there is. Don't build your entire world around someone who can't hold it for you." 

You let his words sink in your chest, your boyfriend was the only person you had, he made sure of that. Maybe deep down you knew you deserved better than him, and maybe you just needed someone else to remind you, "you're great with words, can I at least know the name of the person I am trauma bonding with?" He chuckled at your words, "Jay's fine." You nodded, telling him your name in return. You spent the rest of the night talking with him, your mind drifting far off from your boyfriend as you laughed at him while he explained how he got fed up with his friends who were shit-faced drunk and creating a scene. He told you how parties weren't really his cup of tea but he liked entertaining his friends who loved it. As the night went on you realized he was drunk as well and probably won't even remember this small exchange with you in the morning, yet you were glad you weren't drowning alone in your misery tonight. 

"Ah, I need to go. My friends have been calling me non stop and my phone was on silent mode." He was on his feet and off towards the house before you could bring yourself to stop him to ask for his number. You booked a cab to get you back to your house when you realized he didn't take his jacket back with him. You just looked at him as his figure disappeared into the crowd and ran towards the direction he went but you lost him and you wondered if you'll ever be able to meet me again. You reached home, head pounding due to all the crying and a little bit of drink which your boyfriend forced you to drink. 

You quickly messaged your boyfriend to call it quits and blocked his number from every possible app you could, not even waiting for his reply. You opened your instagram, your fingers moving before your mind did. You recognized a guy from your school, Sunoo, at the party. He's a social butterfly. Maybe his profile could help you with finding Jay. You opened his profile, sighing in relief as his page was public, you went to the tagged section to see if you could find Jay and there he was. You zoomed in to take a clear look, the picture was blurry but the jacket in the picture looked familiar to the one currently draped on your chair. You clicked on it to see if his username is tagged and thankfully it did. His profile was more low-key than low-key, just some pictures of his guitars, a group picture and a name, HYPHENIX.

The university's campus is louder and lively than it needs to be. The courtyard buzzing with laughter and talks of people huddling together to make memories. People walk in with their little groups, coffee in one hand, backpacks slung over their shoulders, carefree like they've already figured out how to survive here, like they know they belong here. You pass through them like wind brushing past one's hair, your head down, hands clasped around the straps of your backpack. The hallway isn't any better, students rushing to get to their respective classes, some frantic, some lazed out. There's echo of shoes, heels, sneakers, boots, which remind you that you are walking with them, just not beside. Voices overlap, laughter resonates, lockers being slammed shut and class door's daring you to knock and enter. Everyone seems to have somewhere to be, someone to text, someone waiting for them to join and you just wheeze past them, not invisible entirely just easy to miss. 

You're halfway to your class when you hear someone call out your name, turn around and smile softly at your best friend, Ava, short for Avalyn, to catch up to you. "Where are you running off to?" You take off your headphones and place it inside the case, "my morning class Ava! You got free time?" She shook her head, her keratin smooth hair swaying slightly at her movement, "I'm trying for cheer squad remember? I'm going for a practice session to get through the audition." You nodded your head in understanding, she had been trying to have a spot in the cheer squad for a while now, she's good at it you think, but you guess popularity plays a key role in getting into the team. 

She continued to walk by your side as she gushed about how she's getting better at cheering, you listened to her, that's what you usually do. You bid her goodbye and enter your class. The class went on as usual, nothing out of ordinary. You took notes of the things the professor said, then quietly packed your things to leave. You were placing the headphones in your ears when your eyes landed on a figure standing a few feet away from you, your steps halted and there he was, Jay. He was leaning against a pillar, nodding his head at the person talking with him, one hand raking through his already messy hair. His other hand was holding onto the strap of his guitar case. 

You watched him from the entrance of your class, occasionally sliding your finger on your phone screen to appear busy as you stole glances at him. Your eyes blinked a few times, not really believing the sight in front of you. He barely spoke, just nodded along the conversation with a blank expression on. He hadn't changed much, except he was now taller, his features more sharp, and more mature than you last remember. The sight of him made your heart skip a beat, maybe it was because you saw him after so many years or maybe because he hadn't left your mind even once since you had a talk with him at that high school party. 

He reminded you of the past version of yourself which you haven't really forgotten. A small crowd gathered around him, he sighed heavily. His eyes scanned around the area, you hid yourself behind the door of your class. You peeked from your place, your breath caught. He didn't notice you, of course he didn't. He excused himself as he started walking towards the opposite direction, the crowd following close behind him and that's when it hit you, how far both of your lives had drifted. There he was, in the spotlight, surrounded by people who admired him while you stood behind the class doors, in the shadows, wondering, watching.

"Where are you?" Ava's voice rang through your headphones as you ordered your coffee from a local coffee shop. You paid the cashier and thanked him as you made your way out of the shop, "at the coffee shop, I'm going out for a bit." You could imagine her pouting on the other side of the phone, her voice whiny, "why are you going out alone? I would have loved to accompany you, don't forget you have me by your side okay?" You pursed your lips as you nodded at her words then realizing she couldn't possibly see you, "I know Ava, but I can't always depend on you right?" She opened her mouth to protest, "you can depend on me, I'm your only friend." You frowned but didn't disagree with her, it was true that she was your only friend, she has been the only one who saw you and has been by your side since the university started and you're glad that she stood beside you and helped you. 

"I'll make it up to you okay?" She squealed at your remark, hanging up the phone before informing you about her nail appointment, your eyes unconsciously fell on your own hands, maybe you could get a manicure too. High school was hard after your breakup, with no one by your side but you got through it alone. Now, as you were older and wiser than your high school self, you started to enjoy your own company too. You sipped your coffee as you walked down the street, your feet leading you nowhere in particular when your eyes landed on the familiar mop of hair down the street. You stopped in your tracks, closing your eyes, you shook your head, when you opened your eyes there was no one in sight. You sighed, you're starting to hallucinate about Jay now, it wasn't good for your heart.

You continued your way down the street, ears picking up angry voices across the alleyway. You looked at your surroundings, not many people walk around nowadays. You told yourself you were just stretching your legs, but truthfully curiosity took the best of your senses and guided you across the alleyway where the voices became more clearer as you walked closer. You stood in the corner, your eyes squinting behind your glasses to take a closer look. "I want you to focus on your academics too, Jay. We don't want your silly little hobby to come in the way of your career." Your brows furrowed when your heart a high pitch feminine voice and a name so familiar you could write in your sleep. 

You crane your head to get a glimpse of the scene. There stood Jay, his head hung low as he avoided the eyes of two older people, presumably his mom and dad as they lectured him in front of their car. "Your music is taking up more of your time than your academics, don't forget you're going to be the hire of our business, the sooner you realize this the better it will be for you." Your heart sank as they went on and on about Jay's choices and how disappointed they are at him. Your eyes followed his parent's car as it left, then trailed towards the boy who now was crouched down on the road. He took a few rocks from the ground and threw them across the road, his face visibly contoured with hurt and anger. 

You took a step forward before deciding against it. You were eavesdropping, which you were sure wasn't welcomed with the scenario that unfolded right in front of your eyes, but watching him slump against the concrete wall, head between his hands, you wanted to comfort him, just like how he did when you were at your lowest. You wanted to help him, encourage him to not give up on his love for music just to satisfy his parents but with the image he had built around himself in the campus, it was impossible for you to just randomly show up to him to console. He would kill you with his stare before you even opened your mouth, so you decided to stay in the shadows and help him with his issues. By being a secret admirer, the book girlie inside of you was dancing in excitement.

Early morning in the campus was just how you imagined it would be, it carried a quiet kind of hush which felt too sacred to disturb. The sun had began to rise not long ago, casting long golden rays across the campus building, few of the students were scattered around the campus, you walked through the hallway which was nearly empty save for some lone students with headphones on or a book in hand, your footsteps were light but quick as you occasionally turned around to check in your surrounding. Your hands tightly clutched around your bag as you overworked your brain to map out the locker room in the building. You relaxed when you found the large 'Locker room' sign hung upon the metal rod, your eyes scanning the area nearby before entering inside. 

Few of the students were busy with their own things inside the room, none of them paying attention towards you. Your eyes scanned the area, feet moving towards the locker you were determined to find, you causally scanned the names on the lockers, totally nonchalant if anyone asked you. Your steps came to a halt when you came across the 'Park Jongseong' locker. Peeking your head at the entrance to check anyone's presence one last time, you hurriedly took out the letter you had neatly packed inside an envelope and slid it inside the locker from the small gap that was present. Your hands trembled, heartbeat erratic as you stepped away and started walking towards the cafeteria, your head hung low as you zipped your bag. 

You saw Jay pass by you with one of his band members, Heeseung, the vocalist as both of them animatedly chatted about something. Your eyes followed his features, he seemed to be far more relaxed as he laughed at something Heeseung said, that laugh almost reminded you of the night of the party. You wondered what they were doing in the campus early in the morning when your eyes landed on the new notice on the notice board along with various other banners which decorated the walls of the hallway. You stepped closer to have a clearer view of the notice displayed, Symphoria 25, the widely known college fest of your university. 

Your eyes went back to Jay and Heeseung who were now entering the locker room, their backs turned towards you. Symphoria, you'd heard a lot about the college fest, it draws in thousands of people not just from the campus but from the city and beyond. A perfect opportunity to showcase your talent and get exposure. Maybe Jay and his band had started early morning practice to perfect their art for the fest, it was inevitable that they would participate in the fest. You checked the time on your phone, you still had a good 20 minutes before your class started so you made your way back towards the locker room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jay to see if he got your letter or not. 

The hallway had started filling in with the usual chatter of students, as soon as you were about to enter the locker room you caught Jay coming out of the room and in a reckless way to avoid facing him you turned around to run in the opposite direction. But luck wasn't by your side and your leg slipped and you fell, right in front of Jay, and his friend Heeseung. "Are you okay?" You recognized Heeseung's voice as he extended his hand for you to take. A few of the students gathered to watch the commotion. Your head was hung low, and you prayed the universe to swallow you whole instead of letting you face humiliation. You held Heeseung's hand to stand up, then immediately let go and hid your face with both of your hands. 

Heeseung chuckled at your antics, finding your embarrassed self quite endearing, he looked at Jay whose eyes were trained on you, a subtle frown adorning his face, lips pursed together. Jay tilted his head as he watched, you peeked from the gaps in between your fingers, head still down, your eyes caught the sight of your letter in between his fingers, the letter still sealed neatly. "Hey don't be embarrassed, things like this happen every time," you turned towards Heeseung, your hands still on your face as you nodded at his words and bolted out of the place and towards your class. 

Heeseung's eyes followed you till you turned around the corner, confusion etched upon his face like a question scribbled in a language he wasn't proficient in. He turned towards Jay, who was also looking at the direction you just ran to, his expressions blank but with a hint of curiosity behind his eyes. "I guess she was too humiliated to wait and talk, I genuinely thought she did this to have our attention," Heeseung broke the silence, making Jay look towards him. Now one would paint Heeseung as a stuck up individual after what he said, but it wasn't a regular sight for any of their band members to not have girls lining up to have a conversation with them, you'd be the first to avoid them all together. He was genuinely confused with your actions.

Your footsteps echoed off the walls of the hallway in frantic rhythm. Your hair sticking on your face and bag bouncing off your side. You reached towards your classroom door, slowing down just enough to avoid getting slammed on it. You slipped inside and scanned the room for an empty seat. Your chest raised and fell as you sat on an empty seat, you took deep breaths to look composed but the flush of your cheeks and the way your hands gripped the edge of the desk betrayed you. The professor entered the class and began the lecture but your mind drifted off towards the incident that happened back in front of the locker room. You slammed your head on the desk lightly to avoid attention, grimacing about how humiliating the incident was.

"You look tired, did you not get enough sleep?" You glanced towards Ava, who was happily munching her food while her doe eyes stared at you, "Yeah, couldn't sleep." She pouted at your words, shoving your shoulder lightly, "you should take care of yourself more, you worry me so much, you don't have anyone else other than me who takes care of you." You smiled awkwardly at her statement, internally grimacing. Her words are always sweet like honey, the kind that drips with warmth and affection until you realize what comes next, like she's trying to convince you that your light only shines when she's with you. 

Your eyes wandered towards the cafeteria door when students started talking in hushed whispered and gasp, there they stood Heeseung, Jay, Jake and Sunghoon, the four members of band, HYPHENIX. Ava followed your gaze, vast smile etching on her face, "aren't they just dreamy? You think Sunghoon's single?" Your head turned towards her instinctively as her voice reached your ears, "since when are you interested in them?" You don't remember her gushing about the band before, sure they were pretty popular but Ava was too obsessed with cheer to ever focus on anything else. She just shrugged, not bothering to reply, you frowned, following her line of vision where Jay was seated with his bandmates. 

Your breath hitched when you spotted the familiar looking envelope in Jay's hand, the seal broken off, he had read the letter. Your eyes traced from his hands to his face, watching, observing, like you always do. Jake was talking about something while nudging Jay, Heeseung throwing his back as he laughed and Sunghoon just shook his head, amused by his friends. Jay smiled softly, his eyes still trained on the letter in his hands, playing with its edges gently. You haven't seen him smile like that ever since you saw him, his expressions always so distant and reserved, one would think twice before approaching him. You could tell you weren't the only person to witness it when you heard whispers around you. 

"Wow I never knew he could smile like that!", "so the icy guitarist of HYPHENIX knows how to smile?", "is that a letter in his hand? A love letter maybe?", "didn't think of him as the romantic type." 

You turned your head back towards your food when you felt Jay's gaze travel towards your table, you hid your face by keeping your palm over half of your face. "Oh my Jay's looking towards me," your eyes met Ava's as she exclaimed happily, gathering attention from a few of the students sitting nearby. More whispers started arising after her exclamation cause indeed Park Jay was looking towards your table, at who? You weren't sure. Your mind unconsciously drifted towards the time when you fell down in front of Heeseung and Jay, and you hoped he didn't remember how you looked.

"Yah Jay you keep on looking at the envelope like it will come alive and tell you who sent you this..." You were making your way towards the last class of the day when you heard Jay's name, looking up you saw the music room sign above the closed door. You walked towards the half opened window trying to listen to what they were talking about. From where you were perched up, you could see Jay's side profile, Jake standing in front of him, you could see half of Sunghoon's face and Heeseung's back, all huddled up with their respective instruments in their hands. "I really wanna know who wrote this, I mean their words hit so close, it instantly lifted his mood as soon as he read it," Heeseung followed as others nodded. Your heart skipped a beat, you stepped away from the window. They said he loved your letter, that it instantly lifted his mood. You smiled sheepishly, a new skip in your step as you made your way towards your class. 

Maybe you could continue to support him like this, silently, from afar, without the fear of getting rejected. He would be aware that there's someone who silently has his back, and you wouldn't have to worry about being the center of attention. And that's what you did, you wrote letters for him, every week. Words you couldn't say out loud found a home on paper wrapped in a plain envelope. You poured your admiration, your care, and all the quiet things you felt into the letters. You slipped them into his locker, or tucked between library books you knew he'd borrow, each note was a small piece of your heart, anonymous but sincere. You watched him smile at the words, never knowing they were yours. He would sometimes write back to you, placing his letters inside the library book he last borrowed and when he would come and check the next time, he would smile at its disappearance. He would know you got his letter when you'd mention it in your next one. And somehow, that was enough.

And the campus was big but apparently not big enough to keep your little secret in between you and him. It wasn't the letters that caught everyone's attention, it was him. Jay had always been stoic, guarded, the kind of person who kept people at arm's length, never too close but lately that shifted. He smiled more, his posture relaxed, he didn't shoot anyone with his icy glare for merely talking with him. He lingered longer near his locker, reading something in his hands. His bandmates noticed the recurrence of the letters first then few of his admirers. Questions flooded in their minds, was the guitarist of HYPHENIX finally seeing someone? Who would be the lucky person to capture the heart of someone who never showed interest in dating? And If he was getting interested in someone then who's this mystery person?

And then one afternoon, someone overheard Jay talking with Sunghoon, his voice low as he murmured something along the lines of, "I received yet another letter today, they just know what to say to make my heart skip a bit." Hushed conversations between close friends, fell upon wrong ears and soon enough the campus buzzed with new gossip about this secret admirer of Jay. The talk wasn't about Jay anymore, they were more about what made Jay change, about the anonymous person who poured their heart out on the letters, about how the coldest guy on the campus might have someone who has enough warmth that melts his walls. And how maybe, just maybe, he was starting to care about those letters more. 

With each letter you wrote, your feelings for him kept on getting more intense and with all the gossip surrounding you about your own letters you wondered how Jay would react if he ever found out who was behind those letters. It didn't help that Ava seemed to be getting more interested in Jay's love life than focusing on her cheerleading auditions. You had to constantly hear her gush about this mystery admirer of Jay and how an anonymous person was getting more recognition than she ever could even if she tried her best. "Popularity shouldn't be your goal, being good at what you do should be!" You remember explaining this to her when she kept on complaining about how privileged the popular people are with everything. 

She wasn't wrong entirely, everything around the campus depended upon how good you were with something and ultimately how much audience you bought with it. Maybe she wasn't wrong about not getting into cheerleading yet because she wasn't famous enough to make the cut and not because she was just decent enough for the sport. Ava is attractive, has friends from every block of the campus, yet she somehow always sticks to you. She goes to parties, easily becomes the center of the room but somehow it's not enough, it's never enough. There's always someone who is prettier, more talented, more popular who steals her show and you get her. Perhaps that's the reason you let her guide and lead your university life instead of trying and failing to meet new people who would befriend you. 

For the next few weeks when you walked down your campus, every corner was slowly transformed into a living stage. The air surrounding last-minute rehearsals, buzz of sound checks vibrating against your ear drums, every corner of the university was filled with excitement. Symphoria wasn't just a college fest, it was an emotion, a movement held towards rising artists and their talents. By day the fest was filled with different stalls, and artists showcasing their raw talents to sharpen it for the night show. By the time the night arrives, the main stage would come alive with performances that shake the ground. You were excited to attend the last show of the fest as it was the night HYPHENIX would perform, the most talked about and most awaited performance of the whole fest. 

You made your way towards the locker room early in the morning to place the letter inside for Jay to read before his performance. This time though, you had bought a little bouquet of red roses to cheer him up a little with a note that is addressed to him in case someone else misplaced it. You couldn't open his locker enough to put the flowers inside so you decided to keep it above the locker. You walked out of the locker room before anyone could see you, leaving letters inside his locker had gotten a bit difficult with all the attention from the campus. Yet you woke up extra early to not get caught and cheer Jay up for his performance. 

You made your way towards the library to finish the rest of your assignments, dropping a message to Ava about meeting you in the cafeteria during lunch. You sat down, opening your laptop to get started. The library was relatively empty, not many students were in the mood to study when there's literal fest going on around the campus. You wondered if Jay will even have time to open his locker today, you heard they had been practicing extra hard for this performance. Lunch time rolled around but Ava still didn't reply to your text, you tried calling but no answer so you ate alone. You made your way towards the locker room to check on the flowers and letters, when you reached there was none, it made you smile at the thought that he received it before his performance just how you wanted. 

The evening started off with a blast, you made your way near the left side of the main stage. You look around to find Ava in the crowd and even send a few messages of your location in case she decides to find you. You frowned at her behavior, she was so excited to attend today's show, some of her favorite people were performing, not to forget her constantly ranting about being excited to watch HYPHENIX's performance. They were the last act to perform, everyone from the campus gathered around to watch you with banners in their hands. You crane your head to see if they are coming. 

They walked on the stage, your eyes landed on Jay and suddenly the crowd didn't matter. They got in their position, the noise faded, the lights dimmed around everyone else but them and you stood frozen in your spot, eyes never leaving his silhouettes. Heeseung led up to the mic, the crowd erupted, waves of cheers and reckless energy filled up the air, but your eyes were locked on Jay. Jake, the drummer chimed in and suddenly the world was nothing but sound. Jay's guitar and Sunghoon's keyboard roared to life, drums thundered beneath your feet, and the music hit you like a memory you didn't know you'd been holding onto. It wasn't just some random noise pieced together, it was emotion, pouring from the stage and crashing into you like fire and rain.

You watched them, the way their fingers moved on their instruments, how Heeseung's voice danced a high note, how they closed their eyes like the song was something they felt, not just performed and in that moment, it felt personal like somehow, they were singing straight to you. The lights flashed on the stage, the chorus soared. People around you screamed and swayed, but you stood still, like you were spellbound. It was more than music. It was a moment you didn't want to end and in that moment, nothing existed but the stage, the sound, and the feeling of you falling deeper and deeper for Jay. 

You felt a wave of emotion so overwhelming that tears strung in your eyes, their performance ended and they bid their goodbyes. The crowd cheered, you were sure they would be the talk of campus if not city for a whole year. Jay looked happy as he made his way backstage and before you could think your feet led you towards the back of the stage to catch a glimpse of him, it was one of the important parts of his musical career after all, you could at least muster up the courage to congratulate him. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be bad to introduce yourself into his life as someone he once met at a random high school party. You were about to enter backstage when a volunteer bumped into you, all the papers in his hands flying everywhere. You managed to apologize to him as you helped him with the papers but your eyes were somewhere else, in search of a person you couldn't get a hold of. 

You made your way deeper into the back of the stage, volunteers and performers going on about their works. You located Jake and Sunghoon at the far corner of the stage, Heeseung sitting close beside as they wore brightest smiles and talked with each other about something. You tried finding Jay, your heart beating fast as you tried finding someone who would tell you about his whereabouts. "Uh-hello, do you know where Jay went? The guitarist from HYPHENIX?" The girl randomly pointed towards the exit of the backstage, you thanked her before following the direction she gave. As soon as you were out of the door, the coolness of the night air made you shiver. 

Your footsteps slowed, the moonlight casted a soft glow on your face, yet it was still relatively dark. You took a step forward, then another, then you heard voices, familiar and close. Your steps halted when you caught two silhouettes standing close to each other, then your world stopped. One second they were talking, Jay and Ava, the next second his hands were on her neck, pulling her close. Ava stepped forward, her hands reaching for his shirt to stabilize herself. Your hands didn't drop your phone, but it slipped a little in your grip as your breath stilled. A sharp pain sliced in your chest, the silence of the surroundings more louder than the ringing in your ears. 

It felt like someone pierced their hand in your heart and squeezed it without any care, like your soul has been ripped apart without any warning. You felt the kind of pain that didn't echo, it throbbed in your chest, deep and ugly. You blinked once, twice, then again for good measure, hoping and praying this was just an illusion, a misunderstanding but it wasn't. It was real. Jay and Ava, kissing each other like the world around them didn't exist anymore. You stood there, watching him hold her like he's afraid if she let go she'll disappear. Your eyes landed on the bouquet of red roses in Jay's hand, the one you brought for him, confusion and hurt etched upon your face, unable to comprehend anything.

Neither of them noticed your presence, they didn't see the way your hands trembled and how your lips parted slightly like your body was trying to breathe through the ache in your heart. They didn't see the way your eyes glossed over with a kind of hurt you knew would take years to heal. You took a step back, suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, the distant sound of people leaving the campus, the humid air, the floor beneath your shoes. You turned around, mind still hazy, eyes unfocused, you stepped on an empty water bottle. Then you hear a soft call of your name, you shut your eyes closed as if it would somehow help you disappear from the unwanted moment you tried to avoid. You heard footsteps coming closer and decided you couldn't possibly excuse your way out of this uncomfortable situation so you took a deep breath and turned back around. 

Your eyes landed on Jay before they could even acknowledge Ava, he tilted his head, his eyebrows furrowed as he watched you. Ava's voice broke your attention from him, she made her way towards you, her arms enveloping one of yours as she beamed at Jay. "This is my best friend Jay," He smiled in your direction, your heart skipped a bit and Ava continued while looking at you, "I told him the truth, that I wrote those letters for him, I couldn't help myself from confessing to him after today's performance, you are proud of me right? I finally got the love of my life." You never once broke your gaze away from Jay as you listened to Ava go on and on about something which you both know she didn't do. You silently listened to her take the credit for the things you did, Jay's smile was wide as he looked at Ava and just like that you couldn't bring yourself to tell the truth.

"Let me drive you both home, it's too late to go by yourself." You sucked in a breath, your head turned towards Ava who nodded enthusiastically at Jay's suggestion. "I'll manage to go by myself, I don't really live too far," Jay shook his head at your words, "It's my responsibility to take care of my girlfriend's loved ones, wouldn't dream of getting on your bad side." Ava chuckled at Jay's words as she leaned against his arms, his own hands slipping on her shoulder pulling her close. You felt like throwing up, you needed answers. Jay pulled out his phone to inform his band members that he'll be leaving first and joining them later. 

Reluctantly you agreed with Jay after Ava forced you to say yes and now you were seated in the back of Jay's car as you watched him act lovey-dovey with his supposed secret admirer. Ava's home arrived first and Jay got off to kiss her goodbye, you sighed, lending your head on the window wondering how you were supposed to get through with this. Jay entered the car, you were still sitting on the backseat. He eyed you from the rearview, "I think I've seen you before." You looked at Jay when you heard his voice, contemplating on whether to tell him that he did see you before or not, "well, we go to the same campus...." You trailed off softly, not really minding if he could hear your answer or not, your mind was haywire with everything that happened today anyway. 

Jay took one last look at you before shaking his head, chuckling lightly and agreeing with your words. You sent a quick text to Ava about wanting to have a talk with her about the stunt she pulled and she replied she'll tell you tomorrow. You felt the car come to a halt and you straightened up, eyes taking in the familiar surroundings of your apartment, you thanked Jay but he stopped you. He got out of the car and towards your door and opened it, "you don't have to do all this, Jay." But you smiled at his sweet gesture regardless and got out of his car. He bid you goodbye and went off as you watched his car retrieve from your apartment's parking lot. 

You couldn't sleep the whole night, mind racing with all sorts of things. The sight of them kissing each other playing in front of your eyes like a mere flashback from a dream you wish you never had, cruelly brought to life. You tossed and turned in your bed, but neither the tears stopped nor did the hollow feeling creeping up your chest. You decided you can't take it anymore, your fingers tapping on Ava's number before you could think. It was late at night, her parents were probably asleep but they always had a soft spot for you. She picked up the phone on the last ring, her voice groggy. 

"What are you trying to do? We both know you didn't write those letters..." you heard some shuffling from her end, "right I didn't, but who cares?" You frowned at her nonchalant answer, "the one who wrote the letter might come forward and expose you Ava, it won't end well for you, did you not hear how Jay is?" She groaned at your words, "well if the person was brave enough they wouldn't have pulled this secret admirer shit, I need Jay to get in the cheer team, this is my chance." You sighed, rubbing your forehead as it had started aching, "your relationship is based on lies Ava, it won't do you good, trust me. You're hurting someone else while trying to reach your goals-" 

"Don't nag at me, I've already taken the leap so there's no going back, I like Jay and I want to be with him so let it go...just for once, for me, let it go please..." you sighed but stayed silent wondering if you were strong enough to watch Jay be with Ava when she clearly was using him just to gain popularity while pretending to be you, Ava continued when she didn't hear anything from your side, "I'm your best friend, I never asked you to do anything for me, please ignore what I did just this once, I'll treat him right I swear." You cut the call after talking to her for some more time, things got messier than they were supposed to be, and you wondered how things will unfold from now on. 

Earlier attending university was something you looked forward to as the constant chattering of students, the latest gossip, the various events and classes helped you ignore how lonely you actually were. But now everywhere you go, there is at least one person talking about the perfect couple Ava and Jay. You tried your best to ignore but you couldn't as Ava started gaining popularity now that Jay won't leave her side whenever he isn't with his bandmates. And you, despite wanting to lay low and finish your degree quietly, were unwillingly dragged into the Ava-Jay love drama since you were her so-called best friend. 

Being best friend of not so famous Ava was hard, but being her best friend after she got famous was harder. People randomly started approaching you to gain latest information about their relationship or how they behave out of the campus. They bombarded you with questions about Ava and what she liked and disliked, like you were some kind of assistant they could get information from. It was annoying, and downright disrespectful. You never wanted the spotlight but even if you did, you knew you wouldn't be happy by being labelled as someone's girlfriend's best friend. It was inconvenient at first, then it became blatantly dehumanizing when people started suggesting Ava to be with someone of her 'level' that you were just some charity case of a friend for her. What hurt you the most was Ava's reactions to those things, she just laughed with them, like she couldn't see how disrespectful people were towards you. So naturally you tried your best to ignore her and her 'well-wishers' all together. 

"Come on, don't be like that! Jay has told me to make sure you'll be present at the celebration party of their successful performance at the college fest, you know how big of a deal it is for him and his friends," you continued typing your essay as Ava sat on the edge of your bed, begging you to attend the party. "I'll see if I can go...I'm not sure though..." she stomped her feet as she made her way towards your desk, hands sliding into yours to get your attention on her, "please? We haven't spent time together since so long," you sighed, releasing her hold from your hand, "it's because you're always so busy with your cheer, or Jay, or your new friends and not because I don't have time for you." 

"It's not like that, you don't like being around people, I can't always cater to your needs right? You should be considerate towards me too, you're so mean," you close your laptop after saving your document and look at her as she begins gathering her things. "I didn't mean it like that Ava-" "I'll give you space, you don't seem to be in a good mood, think about your decision, I'll wait for you at the party and if you won't come I won't go either." You opened your mouth to say something but she was already out of the door. You put your head in your hands as you pulled at your hair, deciding sleeping would be best for now since you had class in early morning. 

Attending early morning class felt like stepping into a world half-asleep. Your brain lagged behind as the professor went on and on about topics you were too tired to pay attention to. One of your hands grip on the coffee cup like your life depends on it and other drawing doodles on the margins of the notebook you had opened to take notes. Your eyes hurt and stifle a yawn, thanking the universe when the professor concludes the class. You check your schedule, there's still a 30 minute gap before your next, maybe you could get a refill of your coffee to go on about your day. You smiled to yourself when you stepped out of the class, feeling accomplished that you managed to survive the morning class as you made your way towards the cafe near your university for your daily dose of coffee. 

"Hey!" You turned around halfway through the campus when you heard someone call out to you, "in a rush?" Jay waved at you as he made his way towards you, his guitar slung over one shoulder, his smile was easy-going as he finally stopped right in front of you. Sweat formed in your hands as you gulped, "you need something from me? I haven't heard from Ava since yesterday so I don't know where she is..." He laughed slightly, motioning you to continue your walk as he stepped beside you, "no, I'm not here to ask you about Ava, though I know I used to do that a lot but I'm here to talk with you about something else." You looked at him then immediately looked forward because how can you be this close to him and act sane? You adjusted your glasses on your face in nervousness. 

"Then what are you here for?" He looked at you, biting his lips in thought and you tore your eyes away to not stare for too long. "For the party...." you halted your steps when you reached the cafe, Jay opened the door and held it for you. You meekly thanked him before entering the cafe, "what about it?" Jay ordered his coffee and you ordered yours, he paid for both the drinks before you could even open your bag to get your purse. "After our performance at Symphoria, we've got quite a few gigs and events to perform at, not to forget it's the day Ava finally confessed to me about writing those letters," you suck in your breath as both of you made your way out of the cafe and back into the university's campus. 

He continued, "those letters have helped me a lot, I was going through a tough time but they helped me so much, and they also inspired us to deliver that performance at the fest. So the success of that performance means a lot to my bandmates, me and Ava alike, and since you're her best friend, I need you to be a part of it." He took a few strides forward and turned towards you making you stop your walk, "please? Attend it for me?" You sighed, attend it for Jay? Now you could do that, but you weren't sure if you'd be able to watch them without losing your sanity. "I'm not a party person, Jay and it doesn't help that Ava has other friends to be with, she won't always be by my side and I don't want to hold her back.." 

He shook his head dismissing your words before you could elaborate further on how pathetic you'd look trying to enjoy the party alone, a party you don't even want to be at, "I'll be by your side then, all throughout the party hm? I'll make sure you won't feel lonely, I promise." He held out his pinky finger in front of you and if you were being honest he looked so silly you wished you could click a picture but you just sighed, eyes switching from his hands to his face, he looked at you expectantly, "I take pinky promises seriously," the corners of your lips twitched a little as you raised your hand to lock your pinky finger with his. He pulled you close, grinning widely, "thank you for coming, Ava and I would love to have you there," he ruffled your hair before jogging off towards the university's music room. 

You faced the mirror, one last time, running your fingers through your hair, you opened your phone, Jay's and Ava's messages lying one above the other, both reminding you to not forget about the party. You fixed your glasses, a hint of irritation seeping in your features as you scanned your reflection, if you ditched your glasses for looks then you won't be able to enjoy the party in HD, but the glasses made you look like the loser you always need to read about in your books. You huffed a breath, reminding yourself about your no more stereotyping rule, your phone started buzzing. You looked at the caller ID, Ava. 

"Hey!" You put your phone away from your ear to recheck the called ID, still Ava, "hello?" You questioned as you chew on your lips, "it's me Jay...Ava's phone was in my hand so I called you from her phone, I asked Sunghoon to pick you up from your apartment and I think he would reach in 10 minutes or so, I just called to inform you that.." you heartbeat quickened after hearing Jay's voice, then you registered the words that left his mouth, "Sunghoon? In 10 minutes? I could've taken a cab, he didn't have to leave the party for me, I feel bad." You could hear the music blasting in the background and you wondered if he could even hear you, "nah, I wanted to come pick you up myself since I invited you but my hands are full right now so I asked Sunghoon, and I don't want you to travel alone in the dark, it's not safe out there. See you soon, Ava and I are waiting for you." 

You stood in front of your apartment building awkwardly fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for Sunghoon's car to pull up. He didn't take much time, arriving fairly on time. He got out of his seat, his height making you take a few steps back so you don't have to hurt your neck while talking to him. He gave you a smile, his eyes landing on your heel-cladded feet before they locked once again with your eyes. You subconsciously tuck your hair behind your ear, blushing up your cheeks under his intense gaze. He offered you his hand, and you held it after looking at it for two seconds too long. He led you towards the passenger's seat, opened the door and guided you inside the car. You thanked him, a giddy smile plastered on your face as you reminded yourself that this was the supposed bare minimum, but then your thoughts went back to the same high school party where your then boyfriend didn't even look at you, much less open doors for you. 

Sunghoon's car reflected his personality, sleek, dark, and polished to perfection. The smell of leather seats of the car mixed with a faint scent of his cologne, and music turned low enough to barely register. You fasten your seatbelt and watch him start the car from your peripheral vision. He didn't say much, and from the time you've noticed him you realized he wasn't a man for many words but whenever he did speak, the attention would be on him. You let yourself relax on the seat and he glanced at your movements briefly. "Thank you for picking me up, you didn't have to, but thank you regardless," You saw him shake his head at your words, a small, barely visible smile dancing on his lips, "it's fine, wouldn't want a pretty girl like you to travel alone at night." You choked on the air, shocked at his words, he laughed loudly, his fang-like teeth showing just enough to make you question if he was just teasing or being serious. 

"You're teasing me, didn't think of you as a type to do that," He looked at your pouty face briefly before his attention went back onto the road, "you're easier to tease somehow, but I wasn't teasing when I said you're pretty." He didn't look at you to see your reaction, but your eyes were trained on his profile. His skin was pale, smooth like porcelain under the car's light, his lips full and precise, there was a cold grace to him, and even when he said nothing, he seemed to speak in presence, posture poised, expression unreadable, a flick of his gaze enough to silence a room. He got out of the car when he reached Jay's apartment where the party was in full blast, he helped you get out of the car and led you towards the main door of Jay's house.

"This place feels familiar," you mutter under your breath, Sunghoon looks at you, his head tilted in your direction, leaning in slightly to hear you better over the gradually increasing noise of music blasting through the speakers as you walk. You shake your head at him, laughing awkwardly as you try to figure out the weird feeling in your stomach. The door bursts open even before Sunghoon's hand stretches enough to open it for you, and your breath is knocked off as Jay stands in front of you, an easy going smile etched upon his face. "I'm glad you're here..." he smiles so bright that it's almost impossible to not mirror his smile, like he's genuinely glad you're there to celebrate. "I had to be," your eyes wander off towards Sunghoon who is now standing beside Jay, leaning on the doorframe watching you two, "you left me with little choices to make." 

Sunghoon lightly chuckled as those words left your mouth, shaking his lightly at your silent jab at Jay's stubborn behavior he made his way inside the house, leaving you standing alone with Jay. "Where's Ava?" You questioned when you didn't find her waiting for you beside Jay, he sighed, head turning back to look towards the ongoing party, "she must be somewhere, I still have her phone on me, but she's nowhere to be found." You frowned hearing his statement and he quickly made space for you to enter the party, "she gets like that after drinking, she wanders off and suddenly you lose track of her." Jay chuckled at your response still his eyes scanned to room for his girlfriend's presence. 

"Jay?" You softly called him, he hummed in return leaning slightly towards you to hear you better. You held your breath as you looked at him, his eyes still wandering across the room to find Ava but then slowly his eyes turned towards you, your lips twitched when his eyes locked in with yours and you gulped before continuing, "go find her, you don't really have to be by my side all night." Jay chuckled at your words, straightening up, he hooked his index finger on the bracelet of your wrist, "well you don't have anything else to do so please help me find my beloved girlfriend," and he pulled you with him into the crowd. 

You take in the scene, you spot some familiar faces in the crowd, laughing, drinking, talking with each other. Your heels tap against the floor and you walk exactly behind Jay as he makes room for both of you to walk. The lights flicker in bursts of neon, casting an exciting glow on the crowd. The buzz of conversations rise and fall, people too drunk or too indulgent in the mood to care about the surroundings. You catch a glimpse of Jake talking with some people, beside him Sunghoon and Heeseung are involved in deep conversation about something only they know. Your eyes fall upon where Jay's finger is hooked upon your bracelet, a sigh leaves your lips and in a moment of distraction your shoulder bumps into someone and you lose your balance slightly. 

You hold onto Jay's shoulder with one hand to regain your balance and he stops in his tracks, eyes narrowing towards the person you stumbled into, "try to look where you are going next time." The person just waves his hand, mumbling apologies incoherently as he backs off towards the opposite direction. You feel Jay's hand curl around your wrist, firmly and when you lift your head up, he's already looking at you. "You walk in front of me now, you're wearing heels, if you sprain your leg it will hurt like a bitch." You laugh slightly at his tone, his hand pulling you gently towards him and he positions himself right behind you. He's still holding your wrist, his other hand giving your shoulder a slight push to get you walking. 

He's so close behind, you could faintly feel his breath on your shoulder. Your eyes scan for your best friend and you turn around towards Jay when you spot her sitting in a corner with few people, drinking happily and laughing with her whole body, "she's there, I think you should get her, I'll get something to drink for myself in the kitchen." Jay's eyes follow the path your finger is pointed at, he sighed in relief, nodding in your direction and making his way towards her. You don't have the courage to watch him go towards her so you make your way inside the kitchen, your hand tracing the spot which Jay held not too long ago. You poured yourself some soft drink, not really in the mood to drink just yet.

"Are you a baby?" You flinched slightly, turning to your side only to find Sunghoon leaning against the counter not too far from you as he poured himself a drink. Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, he looks at you, slowly making his way close to you, "only babies drink soft drinks." You roll your eyes, free hand fixing your glasses. He chuckled lightly, amused at your behavior. "I'm not a baby Mr. Park," he laughed loudly, "that's exactly what a baby would say, your pouty lips and puffed up cheeks aren't helping your case pretty." You immediately straightened up, lips pursed and face blank as you gave him a deadpan look, "I'm not a baby..." He turned around towards the counter, he mixed a few drinks from the table and slided the red solo up towards you. 

"You don't seem like a type to drink frequently but trust me with this one, my friends say I'm quite good with drinks." You throw him a suspicious look, hand curling around the cup, you bring it closer to your face to inspect. "What are you both ?" Your head snapped towards the voice, Jay and Ava joining you two as Sunghoon settled beside you, his drink already half empty. "I'm trying to get her to loosen up a bit, she's always so tense." Jay's eyes narrow at his friend's words, "you don't have to drink if you don't want to," You shake your head at Jay's words and you're about to reply when Ava cuts you off, "oh my god! I've tried to get her to start drinking but she always declines me," then her eyes fall upon Sunghoon, a faint smirk forming on her lips.

"I literally made this in front of her, will you try it for me pretty? Just a taste, you won't have to continue to drink it if you don't like it." Ava's smile fell as soon as Sunghoon's attention shifted from her to you, his eyes soft as he looked at you expectantly. Jay sighed from where he was standing, his hand sliding across Ava's waist as he leaned his weight slightly on her, "Sunghoon, if she's not comfortable-" Sunghoon's hand reached forward towards your hand, which was sporting the red solo cup, he gently curled his fingers around your hand and brought the cup towards his mouth, never breaking eye contact with you as he took a sip from your cup, "there, I'm alive, now your turn, just a sip pretty." 

You exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding, fingers trembling slightly under Sunghoon's. You brought the cup near you, eyes darting around the other three before you took a tentative sip from the drink. Your eyes widened, a smirk forming on Sunghoon's face, "it'd good right?" You nodded your head with more enthusiasm than you initially wanted to show. Sunghoon laughed, releasing his hold from your hand, eyes falling upon the couple in front of him with smug confidence, "I told ya I'm good at it." Jay gave you a small smile, "you sure you like it?" You nodded your head again, taking yet another sip from the cup and gulping down the whole drink. Sunghoon whistled slowly, feeling proud of himself. 

Ava looked at you, "you never drink when I offer...you're so rude and mean to me." Jay sighed pulling her closer, "some people need guidance during their first drinks baby, Sunghoon is good at that. It's not about her being mean to you." From where you stood, you could tell Ava wanted this conversation to go like it did with other people, with them agreeing to every word that spilled from her cherry lips, "want me to make you another one?" You tore your eyes away from Ava and turned towards Sunghoon, "please? This is the first time I'm actually enjoying a drink." And just like that, the night stretched ahead, you smiled to yourself, anticipation settling deep inside you for the night. 

"You're tipsy, how many drinks did you have?" You were perched upon the balcony, looking over people who were playing in the pool and around it when Ava's voice cut through the silence. You hummed, standing up and leaning against the railings to have a good look at Jay's house. Your eyes trailed towards the other side of his backyard where people were roaming around, casually. "Is that a gazebo?" You muttered to yourself, leaning in more, squinting your eyes, your glasses slipping off a little. "You're going to fall down if you keep on leaning on the railings like that," you looked down towards the ground, Jay waving off his hand to signal you to back off a little. 

"I won't fall," you yelled back, laughing as you fixed your glasses back. Jay shook his head, one hand on his hips while the other massaged his temple, "come down, bring Ava with you." You pouted at his words but still stepped back, holding Ava's hand in yours, you dragged her towards the pool. "Hello ladies, wanna go for a swim?" You smiled at Jake when he approached you both, you released Ava's hand when Jay stood by her side. "Don't wanna," Ava whined as Jay tried to persuade her to join. You looked away, smiling at Jake as you swayed a little, he chuckled at your dazed out state and offered his hand for you to hold. "I'm good though, I don't need your support, but since you're being so nice and offering me your help, I'll take it." Jake laughed as he guided you towards the edge of the pool.

Heeseung joined you and Jake, offering you water, "you wanna go for a swim?" You denied Heeseung's suggestion, eyes looking at the pool as you pouted, "I can't swim." Jake mimicked your expressions, but he looked like a kicked puppy more than a sulky one. You laughed, stepping forward and pinching his cheeks, "you're cute Jake." His eyes widened at your actions before turning into an icy glare when Heeseung slumped forward trying to control his laughter. Jay, Ava and Sunghoon joined you three as the boys teased Jake and occasionally your non swimmer self. You felt at ease, you were expecting to be crying in your apartment by now but you were glad it wasn't like that. None of Jay's friends left you alone, each sharing some moments with you. And by spending your time with them you realized why they are so likeable.

You were sitting on one of the chairs by the pool, Ava still beside you. The boys were already playing in the pool, your eyes drifted towards Sunghoon and Heeseung who were now seated on the opposite edge of the pool making fun of Jake who was now being chased by Jay for trying to drown him. Sunghoon's eyes locked with yours and his lips moved to say something, in your own haze you couldn't comprehend what he was trying to say so you got up, edging closer towards the pool, "what did you say?" Sunghoon laughed at your confused self and you pouted. He opened his mouth to repeat what he said when you felt a pair of hands press hard against your back. 

Your heart stuttered, feet losing contact with the ground. Your confusion quickly turned into terror and the next thing you knew, your body hit the water. The water was colder than you expected, it swallowed you whole. The noises of the surrounding vanished, replied by a deafening silence. Your hands flailed, legs kicking in panic. Your lungs felt like they were going to collapse, your mouth filled with the taste of chlorine and fear. A pair of arms circled around your waist, pulling your body towards the surface. You gasped as you were finally able to breathe, your chest aching. Someone took off your glasses from your face, your hands grabbing onto the person's shoulder like you were afraid they would let go. 

You felt someone else chiming in to help, pushing you on the edge as few people surrounded you. Your vision slightly blurry as you tried to ground yourself, "Ava are you crazy? Why would you push your own best friend into the pool when you clearly know she can't swim?" You were sure that it was Sunghoon who yelled at Ava for her reckless behavior, your head turned towards your left to see Jay by your side, one of his hands was cradling your head while the other removed hair from your face. You turner your head towards the right where Sunghoon was still going off on Ava, her shoulders slumped as she tried to reason out, "I thought it would be fun-"

"Fun?" Ava's eyes turned towards you, her eyes widening at Jay's sharp tone. He helped you sit up straight, Jake crouching beside you to wrap you in a towel. You shivered, because of the water or Jay's expression, you didn't know. Jay helped you get up and sit down on the chair, your legs trembling slightly. His hand slipped around your waist. "Is this your idea of fun, Ava? She could've gotten into serious trouble if I wasn't swimming near her." You looked at her, wishing to find remorse in her eyes but all you saw was humiliation and anger as she glared at you. She turned around, making her way back into the house.

"I'm so sorry about that, you aren't hurt right?" You shook your head, lips trembling slightly, "I'm fine, just a little shock that's it." Jay nodded at your words, sighing as he took in his surroundings. "You guys go enjoy the party inside, I'll take care of this." He motioned Jake, Heeseung and Sunghoon to lead the crowd back inside. "Take care of yourself, yeah?" Sunghoon requested before going back inside with everyone else. "You aren't responsible for her actions, plus she didn't mean to do it in the wrong way, she's always been like that..." Jay's eyes snapped towards you in lightning speed, "that still doesn't mean what she did was right, you could've gotten seriously hurt." 

You shivered again when the wind passed by you, your head was starting to spin. "I'll bring you some dried clothes, you'll catch fever otherwise," You nodded at his words, your chest and throat aching. Jay lifted your face with his hand on your chin, your breath hitched at the proximity. He slipped on your glasses, adjusting it on your face for you. "Thank you," you mumbled, not daring to say it louder, "I can see you clearly now." Jay laughed, losing his balance on the chair, you extended your hand and he happily grabbed it to balance himself. "I'm glad you can see me now." You laughed with him, amused by everything that unfolded in today's party. 

You were perched on the bench beneath the tree on the university's campus. Scrolling through your phone in search of something to distract you while you wait for your next class to start. You looked up at the tree above you, its green leaves falling upon you inconveniently. You packed your belongings back in your bag, pocketed your phone and remembered you had to borrow some books from the library for research purposes. "You seem to be so at peace after wreaking havoc in my life," you turned towards the source of voice, frowning at the way Ava walked towards you, eyes scrutinizing your presence. "What are you saying?"

"The pool wasn't even that deep, Jay and his friends were swimming in it just fine, why did you have to overreact like that, do you even know how much Jay has been lecturing me about that incident?" Ava huffed as she reached near you, crossing her arms and waiting for your reply as if you were a murderer waiting for your conviction. "They could swim just fine because they knew how to swim, if that's your logic why didn't you jump in the pool? You also don't know how to swim right?" Her expression flattered, hands going on her hips as she scoffed at your words, "you know I care about you, I didn't do it because I wanted to harm you, yet I'm the bad guy here, how would I know you'd end up like that?" 

You rolled your eyes at her words, but the slight pity in your heart for her was overpowering your senses, "why would you even push me there in the first place?" She stomped her leg, pouting at you as if you denied her favorite candy, "I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, tell Jay and his friends that you forgave me okay? Bye." You opened your mouth to say something but she was already walking away from you. Finding the boys wasn't very hard considering they spent most of their free time in the music room. You took in a deep breath before you knocked on the door. You pushed open the door, peeking in to see if it was occupied, Jake was the first person your eyes landed on, beside him sat Heeseung, both of them pausing mid-discussion. Sunghoon sat a few feet away, hands on his keyboard and beside him sat Jay, his guitar on his lap.

You stood at the doorway, not exactly sure why you even decided to entertain Ava's idea but you did it, so she won't have another reason to whine at you and also because you wanted to have some reason to be near Jay, even for a while. "Don't stand there looking like a lost puppy, you planning on coming in?" Your internal monologue ended quickly as Heeseung words rang in your ears. You awkwardly shuffled inside, closing the door behind. "Um-" You started, internally criticising yourself for not thinking through before you entered. Your eyes wandered towards the boys sitting in the room, four pairs of eyes, all focused towards you. 

"Come sit here pretty," blush rose upon your cheeks as Sunghoon pointed towards the empty chair beside Jay, you nodded sheepishly, and made yourself comfortable. You were about to start saying something when your eyes landed on them, everyone just went back on doing what they were doing previously like you weren't present there at all, your brows furrowed in confusion and you wondered if you should say what you wanted to say or just slip out of the room. "Guys-" And just like that, everyone's attention was back on you, "yeah?" Jake urged you to continue and you shifted in your seat to turn towards Jay.

"I just wanted to say that the pool incident wasn't that big of a deal, things like that happen when you're trying to play pranks with your friends anyway," you laughed awkwardly, "I don't want you to be upset with Ava because of that." There was a brief moment of silence after you finished what you wanted to say, the silent stretching long enough for you to start rambling again, "she's a very good friend, she has always been by my side when I had no one, she can be a bit childish at times but she's sweet at heart-" "Are you trying to tell that to us or yourself pretty?" 

"You, ofcourse." You answered quickly, but fidgeting with your hands was a dead giveaway of your real feelings. Jay put his guitar at his side, sighing once before turning to look at you, "did Ava ask you to do this?" You shook your head no, one hand raising to fix your glasses in place. "I saw you talking with her-" "Oh my God, you did?" "I was lying but you busted your own lie with this one." Your shoulders slumped in defeat, "okay maybe I did come to you because she told me but I was about to do that regardless." You blinked at them, smiling and waiting for them to say something, "you wounded me, we thought you wanted to hangout with us." Your eyes widened at Jake's words, "why would I want to hang out with you guys?"

Heeseung's hand clutched his heart, slouching forward as if it physically pained him to hear that sentence leave your mouth, Jake's hands flew on his mouth, Jay had an amused grin on his face and Sunghoon just smirked, "I'm sorry we aren't cool enough for you to hangout with us pretty.." he laughed watching color drain off your face. "No, it's not like that- I mean- wait you guys- you're twisting the plot, I'm not Regina George!" You sulked slightly, crossing your arms as you watched them topple over laughing at your panicked state, "I just wanted to say that I did not think you guys would want to hang out, since you know...we aren't close, I'm just Ava's best friend."

"You could be my best friend if you want," Jake smiled, throwing an exaggerated wink in your direction, you laugh as he threw his finger hearts. "Seriously though, you're not just Ava's best friend, you're fun on your own okay? Why wouldn't we want to hang out with you, we literally let you in the music room without further interrogating you!" A genuine smile tugged at your face at Heeseung's words, which stretched into a full blown grin when the others nodded their heads in agreement. "And what Ava did was wrong, and she should have apologized to you then and there but she didn't, which was again, very wrong of her." You couldn't bring yourself to deny Sunghoon's words.

Your eyes fell upon Jay who was silent all through this portion of conversation, he sat still, eyes unfocused as he stared ahead, his brows furrowed. You could tell he was listening but had his mind somewhere else, "Jay?" Your soft voice brought him back from his thoughts, he looked into your eyes, "Let's just move past this, guys..." and no one could bring themselves to debate with you further. "It's my birthday in two weeks, we're planning a trip, I was hoping you'll join us.." You pointed your index finger towards yourself, as if anyone inviting you for their birthday was something you had only thought of in your luxury dreams list, Sunghoon gave you a deadpan look, "who else?" Yeah that gave you the answer you were looking for. 

The trip to Jay's birthday arrived more quickly than you could decipher. Jake informed you that the trip was more like a staycation on Jay's vacation home, from the moment you arrived at Jay's vacation home you knew you've stepped into something exquisite. The gated driveway winds through lush green gardens until the villa reveals itself, the sleek architecture, coastal elegance and everything about it screams luxury. As Jay pushed open the grand double doors, you're greeted by high vaulted ceilings, polished marble floors, and floor-to-ceiling glass panels that blur the line between indoors and the shimmering ocean beyond, you could hear Ava gasp from where she was standing beside you, Heeseung just chuckled, nudging you to go forward. 

The scent of the ocean lingered in the air, and Jay informed everyone about their sleeping arrangements. "Everyone gets their own room?" Jake chuckled at your bewildered, stepping closer to help you put the luggage in your room. You made your way through the open-living room plan towards the first floor where your room would be. You, Heeseung and Sunghoon would be sleeping on the first floor whilst Jake, Jay and Ava would be on the ground floor. When everyone was done checking out the interior, your footsteps took you towards the exterior of the house, where the real magic lied. 

A pathway of natural stone leads directly to the secluded beach. The sand is soft, untouched and the water crystal clear. There was not a single soul in sight, only the rhythmic lull of waves and the occasional cry of a distant seagull. "Wow, baby! This is literal heaven," your eyes wandered towards Ava who was now clinging onto Jay's arms like he would disappear if she let go. He smiled back at her, ruffling her hair as he pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead. You looked away, towards the beach where waves crashed into the shore in a gentle kiss. Your chest tightened, a small frown appearing on your face unintentionally. "You good pretty?" Sunghoon nudged your shoulders with his, his gaze trained towards the serene beauty in front of his eyes. "Yes I am-" "Let's see the beach from up front," before you could reply to Sunghoon you felt yourself getting dragged towards the beach by Ava, Jay shouting behind you to be careful. You looked back, Sunghoon giving you an amused look before retreating his steps back into the villa. 

Jake called you back after sometime, deciding that since it was already late, everyone could eat the dinner and sleep away the exhaustion to properly enjoy tomorrow. Everyone wordlessly agreed, too tired to explore further. Everyone bid their goodbye. You went into the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water before you went back into your room, your footsteps light. You poured yourself some water, taking a water bottle with you since you felt too lazy to get out of your room again. You slowly made your way towards the staircase leading towards the first floor when you heard light giggles. Your head turned towards the voices instinctively. 

Jay had Ava backed up against the wall in between their rooms, their limbs tangled together with a quiet urgency. Jay kissed her like he was falling, fast and fearless and she kissed him back like she knew how to catch, but never intended to. Jay's hand moved from her waist to the door handle, opening it and backing Ava into her room. The door clicked shut behind them, and you still stood there, watching, like you always did. You gripped the bottle tightly, heart heavy and hollow at the same time. You made your way inside your room before your tear could manage to escape. The door clicked shut behind you with more force than you intended but you didn't care, not at this moment when the world around you felt like it was caving in. 

"Someone help me with the drinks!" You yelled out to no one in particular as you watched everyone just beeline towards the beach. You put your hand above your head, eyes squinting at the sun. You internally thanked yourself for opting to wear lenses instead, beach and glasses would be a disastrous combination, "let me help you.." You turned towards Jay who slowly made his way towards you. He smiled, taking the box of drinks from your hand and signalling his head towards the lighter box instead. "I would've asked the boys to help with these, you didn't have to help with this." You shook your head, adjusting the box in your hands, "no worries, but if I collapsed right now, tell my parents I died a hero."

Jay's eyebrows rose at your remark, a slight smirk gracing upon his face, "by carrying a box of drinks? How noble. I would crave 'Gone too soon- by a box of Cola' on your tombstone." You huffed a breath, "are you sure we are not hazed? Why does this feel like a punishment?" Jay grinned clearly enjoying your suffering, "I think they went in first to avoid this exact trouble, we were set up." You just shook your head at his words, setting the boxes near each other, Jay ruffled your hair, then Ava called his name and he waved at you before running towards her.

The sun is warm against your skin as you step into the soft sand, the ocean glittering ahead. Around you the world felt lazy and dripped in golden hue but you couldn't shake away the heaviness of your heart. Jake and Sunghoon were already waist-deep in the ocean, calling out the rest of you to join them. Heeseung reclined on a lounge chair, under a fluttering umbrella. Oversized sunglasses perched upon his face as he smirked at the boys playing in the water. Your eyes travelled towards Jay and Ava, who sat a few feet away from you on a shared blanket, their silhouettes framed by the glow of the sun. Ava leaned into him, laughing at something he whispered in her ears. 

You knew it was better to look away, that ignorance was the only choice you had in this situation, but you couldn't bring yourself to do that. But your eyes stayed fixed on the way his fingers gently brush a strand of her hair away from her face, and how she leaned her head on his shoulder like she belonged there and maybe she does. You watched as Jay lay down on his stomach, and Ava on her back, his eyes closed as his hand circled around her waist. You wished you could just walk up to him, sitting beside him as your fingers traced your name on his back, not to claim or to mark but to belong, even just for a fleeting moment. But you don't move, you just watch as she calls his name when he runs off towards the boys to play in the water. 

"You aren't getting spared just because you are busy daydreaming in your own world, pretty." You screamed as you felt Sunghoon pick you up bridal style and run towards the beach as he spoke. "Yah, you know I can't swim." You tried kicking your legs to get him to put you down but there was no real fight in your attacks, "I know, that's why I'll be near you when you play! Trust me pretty." And with that Sunghoon jumped into the water with his still in his arms. Jake and Heeseung joined you two and helped you with splashing water on Sunghoon's face. 

"You're doing good pretty, just hold onto me tight." Your hands were on Sunghoon's shoulder while he had his on your waist as he guided you deeper into the ocean. You shrieked when you couldn't feel anything beneath your feet and his hold tightened around you, his arms now circling around your waist as he pulled you close. Jay watched both of you pinch Sunghoon's ears for his clumsy actions, something twisted low in his stomach and he couldn't explain why watching you both play together made his fingers tighten around Ava's waist. "Jay, it hurts." His attention went back to his girlfriend who looked at him with a questioning gaze, he shook his head, his fingers soothing the skin on her waist as a silent apology. 

"Alright, it's enough for the day, let's get back to have dinner." Your head turned towards Heeseung's voice, you walked up to him, others following close behind. "Had your fun?" He asked, one of his eyebrows arching as he spoke, you nodded your head as both of you fell into a casual conversation. "Okay how about we split the chores?" Ava groaned as Sunghoon's suggestion, clearly displeased. She leaned her weight on Jay, blinking up at him as she pouted, "I'm too tired to help..." Sunghoon scoffed unintentionally and Jake's coughed in his elbow to mask his laughter. "You just laid there on the beach and did nothing but you're tired?" Jay threw a glance at Sunghoon, clearly intending to make him shut up, then he looked at you, his eyes soft, "both of you go rest, we will call when everything's ready okay?"

Ava lit up, reaching up to kiss his cheek she ran inside the house and into her room, without a single glance towards the mess everyone was left with. You heard Jake sigh softly beside you, looking at the mess, hands on his hips. You stepped closer, bumping your hips with his, "how about Jay and Heeseung take care of cooking, Sunghoon can take care of collecting the empty drink bottles and both of us will clear the garbage?" He grinned at you, clearly pleased with your suggestion when Jay's voice cut through the air, "we will handle it, you should go and rest, you helped earlier too." You shook your head at his words, "I want to help, so please let me, and the more people are helping the sooner this will be over." You smiled as you pushed Jake towards the cleaning supplements to get started. 

"Wow this took longer than we thought," you straightened your back, nodding your head at Jake's complaints. The sun had set and the moonlight casted a soft glow on the ocean. The streetlights were turned on and everything looked straight out of a movie. "We're done with dinner!" You looked at Jake who mirrored your smile, "first one to reach the kitchen is the loser!" You said as you ran towards the kitchen, Jake followed close behind as he complained about you getting a headstart. You laughed when he reached the kitchen first, giving Heeseung a jumpscare when he bumped into him. You laughed at his proud face, enjoying yourself more than you thought when Jay's voice cut in, "Ava's still sleeping, I'll bring her dinner later, let's get fresh and then we will eat."

Dinner was spent with Sunghoon and Jay's bickering while Heeseung just laughed at his friend's banter. Laughter echoed over clinking cutlery, voices overlapping and plates passing with casual affection. "I literally said the first person to reach the kitchen is the loser." Sunghoon laughed loudly at Jake's bewildered face, his eyes round and big as he looked at you, "you're so mean.." You reached out and ruffled his head, cooing at his whiny self, "your fault for not listening properly." He slumped against the chair, giving you faux glasses as other's made fun of him. 

"We're sleeping early?" Jay questioned when everyone started complaining about being tired, a gentle frown etching on his face as he looked at you all. Sunghoon nodded his head, "Ava hasn't eaten since afternoon, so feed your girl, we will sleep too now, all the cleaning is finally creeping up on me." Heeseung, Jake and you religiously nodded, making Jay sigh as he prepared a plate for Ava and made his way into her room. "Let's get the cake and other things ready, I believe he will be occupied enough till we get things done," Heeseung whispered as soon as the door clicked shut behind Jay and everyone started preparing for the birthday boy's surprise. 

"Okay, I believe we are ready, are we ready?" Jake whispered, box of cake in his hands, beside him stood Heeseung and Sunghoon who had party poppers in their hands. You were given the responsibility to record the moment. You focused the camera on the cake, then slowly backing away to capture all three of them in a single shot. You softly giggled looking at them, a big grin plastered on your face as you recorded them. All four of you were wearing birthday hats, and you couldn't help but coo at how cute the three boys looked. In one of your hands were two birthday hats, one of them extra large since it was meant for Jay. You looked at the timing, signalling them it was time for all of you to huddle outside Ava's room. 

You knocked on the door, waiting patiently for Jay to open it. You wondered if giving Jay a surprise while Ava wasn't involved in it was a good idea or not but the plan to surprise was spontaneous, the one which you made while you were cleaning, later Sunghoon informed Heeseung about it when he found him alone. Ava never got out of her room, so you figured it wasn't anyone's fault she wasn't involved. Your heart drummed against your ribs, mind swirling with thoughts that if you catch them in their intimate moments, you couldn't bring yourself to handle that scene again. But all your thoughts flew out of your mind when the door swung open and Jay emerged from the door looking confused. 

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY JONGSEONG!!!" All four of you screamed, confetti flying everywhere as Jay laughed, completely amused at the little surprise his friends pulled. Sunghoon took the large hat from your hand and placed it neatly on Jay's head. Ava emerged from the room, her hair messy and she was barely awake. You passed the phone to Heeseung and placed one hat on her head. Jay cut the cake, and the rest of the night was filled with questions from Jay about the surprise and what all went down while preparing. Heeseung apologized to Ava for excluding her from the surprise as he explained how the plan was spontaneous and no one got any opportunity to approach her. She smiled at him as she waved his concern off, but when the little party was almost over you could feel her mood getting sour as she looked at you. 

You got comfortable on the bed, sighing in relief as your body relaxed. You turned to your side, pulling the blanket closer, you slipped into sleep the moment you closed your eyes, body too drained to resist it. For a while everything around you stilled, the noise, the thoughts, even the time. But after few hours, something stirred, and your eyes blinked open, heart and mind racing. You're half-awake, half-dazed, your body begging you to just go back to sleep. You tried going back to sleep, but it was too late to go back to how it felt before. You got off from the bed and made your way downstairs, maybe Some fresh air would help you with the sleep. 

You stepped out of the villa, the air around you lighter and cooler. You made your way towards the narrow stone path, leading you towards the quiet overlook by the cliffside, where the ocean stretches endlessly below. The sky opened with each step you took, you breathe in the air, the wind gently caressing your body. "What are you doing here this late?" You jumped slightly, heart skipping before your mind caught up but you didn't move. Jay stepped beside you, leaning against the railings of the overlook, his eyes trained on your face as you looked ahead. "Couldn't sleep," you whispered, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment. 

"Something's on your mind?" You finally looked at him, his shirt was slightly crumpled, hair disheveled, his fingers twitched once before he clasped his hands together in stillness, his gaze was hard even though he looked composed from the outside, "you're angry, what happened?" The words left your mouth before your brain could catch up and your lips trembled as he locked his eyes with you. "I'm not angry," he stuttered lightly, clearing his throat and you looked away, biting your lips. "It's Ava right? Wanna talk about it?" He sighed, looking up towards the sky then back at you, contemplating whether he should talk to you about it or not.

"She got angry at me since she couldn't wish me at sharp 12..." You eyes widened at his words, disbelief gracing your face at the sheer absurdity of the situation, he looked at you, sitting down and motioning you to join him, and when you did, he continued, "I was so shock, she was in a sour mood, she wasn't even looking at me when I tried to approach her so I asked her till she told me why she was acting that way," you silently listened to him, feeling bad that he got into such situation on his birthday, "she has always been like that, there was a time when I didn't pick up her call at 12 AM sharp on my birthday cause I slept and she didn't talk to me whole day," you chuckled lightly. 

"Is laughing your type of coping mechanism? Considering she's your only friend, and she didn't talk with you on your birthday, doesn't that make her a bad friend?" His questions caught you off guard and you coughed to reduce the awkward tension it rose in the air. "She'll come around, Jay." He looked at you like he was trying to search for some answers he knew you wouldn't verbally give him, "can I share something with you?" His voice was soft as he asked you that and you nodded your head, not finding the courage in you to decline his request. "You're the only person I'm sharing this with, I know you're her best friend so you should probably be the last person I'm saying this to, but from the time I've known you, I know there's no one better than you who would understand me...."

You nodded your head at him to continue, he looked around, his shoulders slumping slightly, "I feel like the Ava in front of me is so different from the girl who used to send me letters..." your stomach dropped at his words, you didn't say anything, you kept your face still but your inside twisted but still you forced a hesitant nod, "like she's very sweet, but the kind of person I imagined her to be, the kind of person I fell for is so different from the reality. We have our sweet moments but they don't feel real to me," he played with his fingers, head hung low, "whenever I try to talk to her about the letters she diverts the topic by saying what matters is the present, her letters always used to see through me, I felt seen in those letter, I didn't even have to say anything but her letters told me they understood regardless, but it isn't the same anymore, it feel so unreal."

"Jay," you sighed wondering what words would even bring peace to his heart, you wanted to tell him the truth, that it was you who wrote those letters and not Ava, but you couldn't bring yourself to confess that. "You're her best friend but I keep on complaining about her behavior to you, don't snitch on me," he pointed a finger at you, "please?" You laughed at his actions, "I won't tell her about this, I promise." He looked at you, eyes squinting as if he didn't believe in your words, "pinky promise?" You stretched your pinky finger towards him and his eyes lit up as he hooked his pinky finger with you. 

Jay looked at the ocean in front of him, "relationships are more complicated than I thought they would be." You nudge your shoulders with him to cheer him up a bit, "tell me about it..." you rolled your eyes, standing up and extending your hand to him, the sun would start to rise after sometime and it would be better if you head back so you'd have enough energy to travel back home tomorrow. He held your hand to pull himself up, dusting his pants a bit. Both of you just walked back in without any conversation, the silence more comfortable in between you. "Let's grab something to drink before we go to bed," you nodded, letting yourself be a little bit more selfish for wanting to spend time with him.

The light of the refrigerator drapes a soft glow on his face, highlighting the curve of his sharp jaw, the way his lashes cast faint shadows on his cheeks, his messy hair which somehow still looks perfect to you. And he looks calm, thoughtful even like your heart isn't shattering into pieces right beside him. You took a few steps back, leaning against the counter, pretending to look at something on your phone but your eyes are trained on him. On the way his brows squint slightly to decide which drink to choose, the way he quietly mumbles to himself as if he belongs to a place which is softer, quieter. And you love him. God, you love him. 

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, try to tear your eyes from his frame, to have some mercy on your heart. You wish you didn't feel this way, wished you never wrote those letters and kept your love hidden deep in your heart. You wished he would just turn around and look at you like you aren't just his girlfriend's best friend but someone who was actually meant to be his. And he turns around and looks at you, flashing you a quick smile, and it shatters you because it's the kind of smile he gives to everyone, and not the one you're dying to get, the kind he has reserved only for Ava. But you smile back, you pretend like you're not falling apart under refrigerator light for a boy who has no idea what he has gotten himself into. 

He makes his way towards you, now handing you a soft drink and leaning right beside you. He takes a sip, humming lightly as if he hasn't tasted the same drink countless times today. "So," he started, putting the drink on the counter and turning towards you, "did you break up with your boyfriend?" You choked on the drink at his random question before calming yourself, "what boyfriend?" You tilted your head as you waited for him to answer, he just shrugged, "the one who humiliated you in my birthday party some years ago in high school." Your jaw dropped before you could stop it, "you remember that? And it was your birthday party?" 

He nodded his head, finding your reaction amusing, "I was wondering when you'd say something about it but you didn't." You opened your mouth to say something but closed it again when you couldn't find the words, "so did you break up with him?" You nodded your head at him, "yeah, just after I reached home, I broke up with him and never looked back. I realized it after so long that deep down I knew he wasn't treating me right, I just wanted someone else to remind me of that and you did." His eyebrows arched at your words, his lips twitching into a smile, "guess you owe me a big one then," You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder a bit, "in your dreams Jay."

He laughed at your words, now taking both of your drinks and throwing it in the bin, "I'm glad that I met you, I don't think I'd be here if I didn't meet you that day." He smiled softly at your words, turning towards you, he stepped closer, "I'm glad you're here too, I feel so relaxed right now, it's amusing really..." you tilt your head at him, "what's so amusing?" His eyes went back and forth from your face then to the ground a couple of times, wondering if he should say what he wanted to, "hm? Jay?" He sighed, clearing his throat a little bit, "this," he said, waving his hands in between you two, "what's this?" You chuckled, finding his hesitation endearing. "This thing in between us, it feels," you stepped closer, nodding your head at him to continue, "it feels what Jay?" "Real. It feels real." 

"Pretty I feel like Jay's birthday this year is going to be very eventful," you and Sunghoon were sitting on the kitchen island, eating fruits, Ava insisted Jay to spend some alone time with her before you go back home so they were out, Heeseung and Jake were still sleeping. "Why's that?" You questioned as you took a bite of watermelon. "Jay said Ava was upset we didn't involve her in the surprise, which doesn't make sense cause Heeseung apologized for it and gave her genuine reason, right?" You nodded and he continued, "but I believe they got into an argument or something, Jay's been tense but he said that Ava wanted to throw a surprise for him too, all alone, and he agreed because he said it would make her happy."

You hummed in response, knowing well that Ava has a habit of bringing attention towards her in any situation, so it was inevitable that she would ask Jay to do something like that. Surprise for Jay sounded good too, they had been dating for months so she must've had something in her mind. "Let her have her moment, despite the reasons we could've texted her or something but we managed within ourselves so let her show her love towards him the way she wants." Sunghoon nodded, silently agreeing with you as he ate the apple, "I hope everything will go well, she didn't even ask any of us for help," you sighed at his words, praying everything would go well. 

Now you're dressing up for the surprise Ava had planned for Jay, she called everyone to the living room when both of them returned from their little outing and informed everyone to dress up nicely after you reached back home and meet in her parent's house since they were out on a business trip, he seemed quite excited about it. You hoped it would live up to his expectations and not end in yet another argument. You sighed watching yourself in the mirror, one hand holding the glasses while the other the lenses. You put the glasses down deciding lenses would be a great option if Ava or for that matter anyone else thought about pushing you into the pool again, you'd at least be able to see your downfall clearly. 

You asked Ava if she needed your help and she just shrugged, declining your offer and throwing a snarky comment at you, something along the lines of, "wouldn't want anyone else to take credit for what I am going to do for him." And you just hummed, not wanting to trigger her more by reminding her that of course she'd fear someone else taking credit given that she has done the same to date Jay. Those words sounded very rich coming from her, the hypocrisy was astonishing. You texted Sunghoon the address of Ava's parent's house and asked him to forward it to the other boys. 

Your eyes fell upon the clock, and you grabbed your things, booking a cab and texting Sunghoon that you'd reach the house in 20 minutes. He texted a thumbs up emoji, informing you that they would arrive at the house around that time too. You leaned against the car seat, watching the other vehicles pass by you in a rushed blur. Your heart thumped in your chest for some reason and you took a few deep breaths to calm the nerves down. It was inevitable you'd feel anxious, it's all you had been feeling ever since Ava started dating Jay, you were mentally preparing yourself to watch them being all lovey dovey in front of you without having a breakdown yourself. 

You arrive at the house, a small envelope in your hand, the evening sky painted in hues of pink and yellows. When you reached the door of the house, you could hear faint chatter from inside the room. You hesitate, glancing down at the envelope with Jay's name written on it and then back up at the faint lights flashing through the living room's curtains. You frowned, texting Ava about your arrival, you twisted the door open after you got a signal from her and stepped inside. You were still standing near the entrance of the house, the house was pitch dark, but still you could hear some murmurs, more clearer than before. 

The door behind you swung open, the night air brushing your skin as you turned around to find Jay hesitantly step inside, one hand clutching his phone and the other the door. His silhouette was half-hidden in the shadow. Behind him stood Sunghoon, Heeseung and Jake, anticipation etched on their faces. Someone behind you switched on the lights and Jay blinked, first because of the lights and then towards the crowd in front of him. You heard someone gasp from behind you, "Jay is here," and a loud chorus of "SURPRISE" erupted in the previously silence-filled house. Confetti exploded through the poppers, the music volume rising up like inflation. 

Ava's shoulder brushed against yours as she ran towards Jay to hug him, he hugged her back, blinking in confusion. The other three entered the house from the corner, Sunghoon throwing a worried look towards Heeseung who silently hushed him. Jake's eyes locked with yours as he passed by you, then he turned towards his other friends to whisper something. Jay smiled tightly when Ava dragged him towards the mini stage where she kept the cake for him. And his eyes found yours before Ava cupped his cheek to give him a birthday kiss. The music stopped and Ava gathered everyone's attention, "Today's my lovely boyfriend's birthday so first we will cut the cake and then we can continue with the celebration."

Loud cheer erupted at her words, you kept your gift on the corner where everyone else kept theirs and made your way towards the mini stage where others were already present. Ava cheered loudly, a bright smile adorning her face as she took off the cover from the cake, a towering, picture-perfect chocolate cake, glossy with ganache, topped with sparklers and gold-letter candles spelling his name. His smile flattered for a second before he masked it with his politeness. "Ava," he whispered quietly, eyes darting towards the people watching each of his actions in anticipation, "I'm allergic to chocolate." You could see the color drained from Ava's face as she looked around at others. "I ordered a vanilla cake, the bakery may have misplaced my order." She pouted, clinging onto his arms as other people gave her words of sympathy that it's the thought that counts. 

You were sitting on the couch beside Sunghoon, in front of you sat Jay and Ava, the music blasted in your ears, but you could still decipher the conversations going around you. Jay tapped his foot repeatedly against the ground, his shoulders tensed as he took a sip from his cup. "You're repeatedly tapping your foot on the ground, if you wanna dance, you could've just said so, come on, let's dance." You could see Jay froze at her words but didn't really resist when she dragged him towards the dance floor. You watch as Ava laughs, all bright and confident, clearly proud of the party she has thrown. You could see her dress sparkle and sway with her. One of her hands was clasped around Jay's wrist and the other waved the crowd off to make some space for them. 

You could see the way his shoulders sank when he reached the center of the dance floor, the way his eyes were scanning the room, over the crowd as if he was checking the exits. Ava pulled him closed, dancing around him carefree and unbothered. She turned around to face him, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer, she leans in for a kiss and he obliges, people cheer around them, flashing on camera making you blind. And he laughed when they pulled apart, hands on her waist as she sways. Your heart tugs a little, with sadness or jealousy you aren't really sure, cause you know Jay prefers to spend his birthday around his loved ones, intimately and not amongst the crowd. You know, because he had mentioned about it in one of his letters. 

"You do realize he is not the one you're supposed to be looking at, right?" You jumped at Sunghoon's voice, "huh? What?" He shook his head as he leaned back on the couch, your eyes following his actions, "Jay," he started, taking a look at him briefly before looking at you again, "you aren't supposed to look at your best friend's boyfriend with that intensity in your eyes, what happened to the girl code?" You choked on the air, rubbing the area just above your chest to soothe your breathing. "I'm not staring at him," you glared, clearly caught off guard by his observation, "yeah and I'm Michael Jackson," you rolled your eyes, leaning against the couch, "you're reaching, I was just looking at them dance together," Sunghoon smirked leaning close to your face, "without blinking? Was their dance that admirable?" 

You groaned throwing your head back, you could hear Sunghoon chuckling at your misery from beside you, "this isn't the first time I saw you staring pretty..." you turned your head slowly in his direction, he smiled lightly, eyes full of emotions or was it the effect of alcohol he was drinking? "Hm?" He sighed, resting his head at the back of the couch, mimicking you, "I saw how you look at him, at the music room, at his house during our celebration, at the villa, at the beach, the time when he served you dinner," your gaze was fixed on his face as he went on and on about all the times he had watch you fawn over your best friends boyfriend. You couldn't bring yourself to deny all his observations, not when he wasn't looking for your approval anyway, he had observed you and was just stating what he saw. 

"Your eyes are so predictable, pretty," He said after he didn't get any response from you and saw you looking away. There was not a single bite in his words, he didn't accuse or blame you for being a bad friend. Your eyes met his again, you couldn't find any sharpness, or any judgement, just softness, like he understood where you were coming from without you having to say anything. Your heart swelled with something you didn't quite understand but felt overwhelmed, "are you always this annoying?" Your words were softer than you intended them to be, and he just smirked, putting his hand on your shoulder, "only when I'm onto something." You sighed but didn't resist his embrace, "you're not onto something, Jay's my best friend's boyfriend." His other hand made its way towards yours to play with your bracelet, "he is, that doesn't mean you wish things were different though." You let me play, eyes lingering on the veins of his hands for a second too long, "I didn't say that," "You didn't have to."

"Where did they go?" Your eyes followed Sunghoon's line of vision, "probably in Ava's room to make out or something," you mumbled quietly but he caught that, "you're not going to sit here and sulk," he said grabbing your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours, "no girl gets to stand beside me and feel like a loser, that shit is reserved only for boys." You wanted to say something but decided against it when you couldn't think of anything smart to say. He dragged you towards the dance floor, his hands circling around your waist, he abruptly pulled you close, your hands grabbing his shoulders in response. "Focus on me tonight, who knows, tomorrow you might forget who Jay is." 

You rolled your eyes at him, hands now comfortably resting around his neck as both of your bodies swayed with the rhythm of music. The night had stretched on, the music settling to something slow and soft. One of his hands slid up to rest against your back, while the other rested snugly on your waist. His actions pulled your body closer to his, from this distance you could count all the moles that were scattered across his face, the curve of his lashes, the point of his nose, and his lips. You gulped, feeling heat rise up in your body at the proximity. You tried looking away but he held you in place with his gaze. You were sure he could hear your heartbeat from how close you were. 

One of his hands lifted, his movements slow and deliberate as he looked at your face for any signs of discomfort, his knuckles grazed your cheeks. Your eyes fluttered close and you leaned into his touch. His breath hitched, taking shallow breaths his hand now cradled your cheek, fully, thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. You sighed softly, leaning more into his touch as if leaning felt safer than speaking. You felt him inch closer, your nose barely grazing against his, you could smell him, the faint scent of detergent which lingered on his shirt, his shampoo, and something so achingly Sunghoon. Your breath flattered, syncing with his, for a moment both of you just breathed each other in.

His lips meet yours, softly, no urgency, no rush, like he's taking his time to learn the curve of your lips, a little hesitant, like he was giving you time to back out if you want. It was the kind of kiss that communicated his soft sighs and gasps, one that lingers at the back of your mind even after years. His thumb caressed your cheek, his actions meant less for comforting you and more for anchoring himself and for a moment everything single thought from your mind disappeared. Then his thumb suddenly froze mid-motion, he pulled away slightly, enough to look at your face. "You're crying pretty..." your eyebrows furrowed at his words and you opened your eyes, his thumb caught another tear which fell from your eyes but he didn't press further.

"I'm sorry..." you choked, unable to comprehend the reason behind your tears. You wanted to kiss him, and you did, but you couldn't figure out why the tears started to flow. The hand on your cheek, slid up to the back of your neck and he pulled close. You buried your head at the crook of his neck. "It hurts so bad, hoon." You aren't even sure where it hurts badly, Ava's lie, or watching her living the life you only imagined in your dreams, or the fact that even if Jay knew it was you, it wouldn't have bloomed into something so precious. "Shh, everything will be okay, you don't have to pretend in front of me." His fingers tangled in your hair as he drew soothing circles on your head. You nodded your head, pulling away a little from his embrace and from the corner of your eyes you saw Jay furiously walking down the stairs, his shoulders tense. 

"Sunghoon," you pulled away from him and he brushed the remaining of the tears with both of his hands, "Jay." You pointed your finger towards his figure, he shoved people who came into his path, his steps hurried and faze fixed on the main door of Ava's house, "follow him," Sunghoon nudged you in Jay's direction, your face contoured into confusion, "but shouldn't Ava be going after him?" He ran his hand through his hair as he watched Jay near the door, "something tells me he needs you more than he'll need Ava at this moment." You looked at him for a second, letting his words sink deep inside you, after a while you nodded at his direction and turned around to run towards Jay. 

Sunghoon watched as your hand slipped away from him, the same hand which he had intertwined with yours a few moments back. He watched it all, the way the tip of your finger slid against his one last time, like sand slipping from his palm, the way your lips trembled when you turn away, the urgency in your steps when you try your best to move through the crowd to reach Jay, and his hand tremble beside him. His other hand lifted up to trace the lingering memory of your lips pressing against it. And when he recalled the way your lips moved against his and how he tasted the salty taste of your tear before catching a sight of it, he wondered if that's what heartbreak tastes like. Like a kiss dipped in honey, ruined by the sting of salt you never meant for him to find.

[kihyunsflavor]

Cold shoulder

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x f!reader

Summary: You are married to Feyd-Rautha, but on his birthday Margot Fenring follows him in the hallways to lure him into her chambers.

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, angst, pet names, breeding kink, manipulation (not reader)

word count: 4.6k

Author's note: English is not my first language. Feedback is very much appreciated <3

A cold breeze grazes your skin as the door to your shared chambers opens, sending a shiver down your spine. He enters with heavy steps and your breath stops for a moment when you catch a foreign feminine scent in the air. You immediately know.

"I'm back, wife," Feyd Rautha says, slowly approaching where you stand. You don't respond. A painful lump forms in your throat as your emotions are all over the place. Big hands gently grab your waist from behind. The scent of the woman still lingers on his skin. It tightens your chest and turns your stomach. You have never felt so sick before. She had her hands on him and he allowed it.

You don't want to believe your own thoughts, wishing this reality wasn't true. She had taken him from you. Your beloved husband, the person you love more than anyone else, with whom you share everything. He is the center of your world.

You turn to face him. "You're back late..." you say, your voice steady but your lower lip quivering.

For a split second, his expression wavers, confirming your suspicions. Feyd starts to speak, but you cut him off. "Don't bother lying. I can smell her on you."

His eyes widen, a hint of guilt flickering across his face, an emotion you've never seen from him before.

"I didn't want to. The witch invaded my mind," he attempts to explain. But you can't believe him. Not after this. He humiliated you, made you feel worthless.

His hand reaches for your cheek but you push it way. „Don‘t touch me.“

Oh how could he betray you like this? How could he share such an intimate moment with another woman?

„I can't believe you did this," you sway, your voice trembling with dissapointment. Tears well up in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. He's not worth your tears. Not a single one.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. His words pierce your heart, shattering it into pieces.

It kills you.

The room falls into a heavy silence. His eyes plead with you, his hands twitching as if wanting to pull you close. The very thought makes you cringe.

"I never want to see you again," you say as you move past him. He reaches out for you, but you're too quick. Just before disappearing into the dark corridor, you look back at him. "It hurts - so much."

With that, you're gone.

Feyd doesn't follow. He knows he destroyed everything.

You move into a new section of the Harkonnen residence, consisting of a bedroom and a study, far away from your husband. All your belongings and clothes are brought in by your servants to help you settle into your new quarters. You hear whispers among the servants about Feyd's initial anger, refusing to let them move your belongings. Eventually, he seemed to give in and just let them continue, which was unusual for someone like him who rarely yielded so easily. But you pay it no mind, trying to forget about him. He did this to himself.

The first few nights are horrible. You struggle to sleep, feeling alone and haunted by nightmares of him. Each time you see a black veiled woman, luring him into her chambers. When you wake up, your clothes cling to your sweaty skin. You brush your hair back from your face and scan the dimly lit room. It is pretty similar to your old chambers but you've tried to make it feel different with some interior changes.

You hadn't yet discovered who the Bene Gesserit was that had been with your husband, but you were determined to find out.

With your family's influential name, you planned to write to your sister, hoping she could uncover the truth for you.

The days go by slowly, and to your relief you don't see Feyd at all. The pain of looking into his eyes would be too much to bear. Your heart was broken and would take a long time to heal.

You'd never known love before, never had any real crushes growing up. But then, you were sent to marry the na-Baron of Giedi Prime. You hadn't objected, obediently following your father's wishes. Meeting Feyd changed everything. He ignited a passion within you, made you feel enchanted and yearning for him.

Even if he was cold at first, Feyd proved to be a devoted husband. Drawn to your beautiful appearance and your kind but brave soul, it didn't take him long to warm up to you. You could tell he had fallen for you too.

The wedding night marked the peak of your feelings for him, deepening your love. You were nervous he might handle you roughly, especially since it was your first time, so you had asked him not to hurt you. „That‘s what concubines are for. I'd never hurt my wife,“ Feyd had assured you then, having already dismissed his concubines prior to the wedding.

But in the end, his words proved to be a lie. He had kept his promise until now, when he let the Bene Gesserit woman touch him.

It was hard to believe Feyd had done something like this. Loyalty and trust were values he held in high regard. He always looked down on those who lacked loyalty; it was a matter of honor to him.

And now here you are, sitting alone at the table to eat your dinner. You had instructed your servants to bring your meals to your chambers from now on, because there was no chance you'd dine with your husband. Even if he came to fetch you himself, you wouldn't budge an inch. But Feyd hasn't come. Days have passed since you left him, and he still hasn't shown his face, which you're really relieved about.

He knew you well, knew that you needed space, but this time it was different. He couldn't just apologize and gift you something to make amends. This time, there was nothing for you to forgive him for. And if the Bene Gesserit were to get pregnant before you, his actual wife, it would be unbearable.

The thought fills you with anger and jealousy. You wouldn't allow this to happen. You should be the only one to give him an heir.

As you return to your room after a brief stroll through your section, you're surprised to find several packages awaiting you. Despite your reservations, Feyd has still chosen to send gifts. Walking over to inspect them, a servant appears at your side, bowing slightly.

"Na-Baroness, the na-Baron has sent some gifts for you. He hopes you will accept them," the servant explains. Your gaze drifts over the variously sized boxes, and a sigh escapes your lips. "We will send them back. All of them," you declare after a moment. "But let me have a look first." Kneeling down, you carefully open each package, mindful not to damage anything.

Among them are dresses, exquisitely crafted and likely from your home planet. Another holds a perfume you adore, also from your planet. Then there are the traditional Harkonnen jewelry, reserved only for the Baron and his family. You can't help but chuckle at Feyd's selection.

Once you've examined everything, the servants gather the gifts along with your message: Don't ever insult me like this again

Even if this was just the beginning of his attempts to seek forgiveness, Feyd's gesture of sending mere gifts felt somewhat childish.

Days later, you decide to attend the fight held in the Harkonnen arena, knowing full well that Feyd would be present. However, you choose to sit in a secluded area, far removed from his presence.

Your attire consists of a dark red silk dress, a change from your usual colors as the na-Baroness, which typically align with the Harkonnen house's black with silver or red accents. Your jewelry, crafted from rare opal from your home planet, catches the light, accentuating your eyes and lending a radiant glow to your appearance.

Accompanied by two of your favorite servants, you make your way to a seating area. As you settle in, a pair of glasses are provided, allowing you a clearer view of the participants in the fighting circle below.

Slowly, you navigate through the crowd, observing the excitement of the people of Giedi Prime for the fight. Your gaze shifts upward, focusing on the Baron seated high above the arena, his imposing presence making you feel unease. He emanates a terrifying and volatile energy that unsettles you every time.

Continuing on, you reach the spot where the na-Baron and you usually sit. Feyd stands alone in his black suit, his gaze fixed on you. He had waited until you noticed him.

Feeling a twinge in your stomach, you deliberately drop your glasses with controlled movements, concealing the effect his presence has on you. Redirecting your attention to the fighters entering the arena, you're grateful for something to distract you.

Yet, his image replays in your mind. His eyes betray a hint of sadness, dark circles evident beneath his pale complexion. But he had brought this upon himself.

If he hadn't allowed the Bene Gesserit to touch him, you would have been there beside him as always, watching the fight unfold, with his hand possessively resting on your thigh.

Even after a week apart, the pain remains just the same.

The fight was not big spectacle, but it was enough for the crowd. You swiftly retreat to your chambers, after receiving the sign from a servant that the Baron had left. Casting one last glance at Feyd's area, you see his back turned to you. He's likely leaving as well, and you really have no desire to encounter him in the hallways

When you wake up two days later, you notice a basket of fresh fruits sitting on your table. Approaching the gift, you find a small card attached to the handle. Opening it slowly, you read Feyd's handwriting: Please accept these valuable fruits. Feyd.

You stare at the words for a moment, then shift your gaze to the basket. Inside, you see a variety of fruits, many of which are from your own planet and are your favorites —a fact Feyd surely knew. Yet, despite the apparent gesture, you still feel slighted by the simplicity of the gift.

With a dismissive gesture, you instruct the servants to take the basket away. "Share it among the others and send the same message to the na-Baron as before," you command, retreating to your bedroom.

An upcoming event required your presence as husband and wife, na-Baron and na-Baroness. Three days beforehand, you already felt nauseous and contemplated skipping it altogether. However, the Baron's potential anger left you with no choice but to attend.

As the special day approaches, you pace nervously around the room. The prospect of having to play the role of Feyd's wife again fills you with dread. Despite the difficulty, you resign yourself to the task, knowing you must suppress your true emotions and maintain a facade of affection, hiding behind a gentle smile.

In the morning, you receive a package from Feyd, containing a dress intended for the upcoming gathering. The garment, adorned in Harkonnen colors, is tailored to complement his own attire, ensuring a flawless appearance as a couple.

As the servants begin to prepare you for the event, they dress you, adorn you with jewelry, and style your hair elegantly. Avoiding the mirror as much as possible, you can't help but feel a bit of discomfort at the sight of the dress, which reminds you too much of him. The idea that it signifies your connection to him is unsettling, especially since his betrayal with another woman. Prior to that, you had cherished moments when he selected dresses for you or had jewelry crafted from your birthstone.

Once you're ready, you steal a quick glance at your reflection, observing how the dress accentuates your figure. Despite looking beautiful, the nausea persists. You so badly wish to just remain secluded in your chambers, away from him.

Two servants accompany you as you make your way to the grand halls where your husband awaits in front of the towering doors. You catch a glimpse of him, dressed in all black and feel the familiar pain in your chest. It's as if your lungs are pulling themselves together, stealing the air from you.

His gaze is sweeping over you and a faint grin tugs at his lips, but he stops himself quickly. "Good morning, wife," Feyd says, with his deep raspy voice and offers his arm to you. He seems content to see your face up close after two weeks. You halt before him, meeting his towering figure with a glare that could pierce steel. He recognizes the expression, but doesn't show any reaction. You hook your arm into his, taking a deep breath before walking into the grand hall together.

As the event unfolds, nobels from across the galaxy mingle, their voices a symphony of polite conversation. Among them stands the imposing figure of the Baron, his presence commanding attention.

You stand next to Feyd, occasionally engaging in some small talk with others. Despite the pain and betrayal that lingers in between you, you play the roles with practiced ease, upholding the appearance of a happy couple. Yet inside, you feel dull.

In a moment alone, Feyd wraps his arm around your waist. "Let's talk later, wife." He says and gazes into your eyes. You lower your head, staring at his chest and offering no response until he pulls you closer to his body. Slowly, you raise your head and to meet his gaze.

"No, I don't think so," You reply, placing a hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away. But he holds firm, studying your eyes in an attempt to understand your emotions.

"There's nothing to explain, na-Baron," you hiss, putting some distance between the two of you. "I don't want to hear anything. And stop sending me gifts!"

Feyd blinks at your response and takes a step forward. "Just let me finish my sentence. Things have happened that I regret deeply, but I need you to understand why," he begins to explain, but you shake your head. Tears well up in your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a whimper. "No, no…" Your lips quiver as you respond with a weak voice. "Even just thinking about it hurts me too much." With those final words, you turn on your heel and walk away. Glancing briefly at the Baron to ensure he's occupied, you slip out of the grand hall and return to your chambers.

Your heart races, nearly pounding out of your chest. Feyd's scent made you dizzy, made you longing for him, but you refuse to succumb. You were not one to give in quickly, not even to his beautiful blue eyes. His lips had twitched, after you had raised your head to look at him - his love always displayed so openly for you, unlike his usual expressionless demeanor. And despite everything, you still love him too, but the thought of going back to him, fills you with disgust and pain. He's the one who made you feel this way.

It was not a good night, and the days that followed were just as bleak. The dull ache persisted, and you drift through each day like a ghost. Emptiness pervades every moment, blurring the world around you into a haze. And despite showing not a single emotion to the world, you feel the pain, longing for the warmth of connection that is lost.

After a week had passed since the event, the reply from your older sister finally arrived. You hastily open it, eager to learn whether the Bene Gesserit woman was pregnant. You understood the ways of the Bene Gesserit and didn't object to them, except in this case, where one woman dared to interfere in your marriage. It was all about control.

Since you weren't part of the sisterhood, they needed to ensure a child was born from Feyd that they could raise according to their teachings. However, if they had approached you with a deal for your own child to become a Bene Gesserit, you might not have disagreed.

But this time, you were determined to stand in their way. She wasn't worthy enough to bear your husband's child, especially considering you weren't even pregnant yourself yet.

With trembling hands, you open the scroll and begin to read the message.

Dear sister,

I am deeply troubled by the news you've shared with me. I did not expect this from the na-Baron. But don't worry too much, as I have located the Bene Gesserit. Her name is Margot Fenring, the wife of Count Fenring, the Emperor's advisor. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out why the sisterhood chose her, and I haven't received any updates on a possible pregnancy. Rest assured, I will inform you immediately once I learn more.

With all my love,

Your sister

You stare at the message, sighing heavily. Margot Fenring was a well-known figure in the galaxy, particularly admired for her beauty. Her hair was of a golden blonde with grey-green eyes and attractive figure. However, you weren't concerned about feeling inferior to her; you knew your own beauty had captivated Feyd from the moment he had laid his eyes on you.

The burning question on your mind wasn't why the revered mother had chosen her to seduce Feyd, but rather why she had to intervene at all, and whether she was now carrying his child.

The waiting was unbearable in a situation like this.

A knock sounds on your door, as you put the roll in the drawer of your desk. Curious, you turn around, wondering who could be seeking your attention. Apart from your husband and his two family members, you didn't know anyone else.

With caution, you open the door, only to be met with the sight of Feyd-Rautha. Disappointment flashes across your face, and you sigh, almost closing the door on him again. But Feyd has other plans, his hand holding the door open and making his way into your chambers. Surprised, you walk back a few steps and stare at him. "What are you doing?" you ask, confusion evident in your tone. He doesn't respond, maintaining a cold stare that sends a shiver down your spine. He appears angry or, at the very least, annoyed by your behavior.

As the back of your knees touch your bed, he stops in front of you. "This time, you will listen, wife, or I will tie you to the bed. You can't run away from me every time," Feyd says with a deep, raspy voice. You blink up at him, uncertain of what to do. Part of you wants to escape the uncomfortable situation and to avoid listening to him. But in this moment, he holds full control over you.

A cold finger grazes your jawline softly, lifting your head up. He comes closer, his breath tingling on your skin. "You better listen carefully now. I will explain everything that has happened. Alright?" he tells you, and all you can do is nod your head obediently.

"On this day while I was on my way back to you, I noticed a woman following me. I questioned her about her presence in the area, and she began to manipulate my mind. With a mere blink, I found myself in the witch's room, unable to recall anything except for her whispers in my head," Feyd explains seriously, maintaining eye contact with you.

"She then used the voice on me and forced me to place my hand in a box while holding a sharp object coated with poison to my neck. After passing her test, she continued to use the voice on me throughout the whole time. I couldn't do anything else than listen to her. I tried to break free many times and every time a picture of you flashed in my mind, she redirected my attention back to her," he continues, his eyes darkening as he recounts the experience. You can see the distress he's in as he speaks.

Slowly, your hand raises to cup his cheek, offering comfort. He leans into your touch, visibly relaxing. "Do you know why she came to you?" you inquire, once his nerves are calmed. He nods vaguely. "I am the one who will inherit the title as Baron next, and since you are not a Bene Gesserit, they sent one of them to find out my weakness."

His answer sinks in, and you agree. "That's what I was thinking as well."

Feyd's hands gently cup your face as he leans closer. "I missed you so much, little mouse," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his touch, which you've missed dearly.

"What if she is pregnant?" concern creeps into your voice. Feyd meets your gaze, his eyes filled with determination. "Don't worry, my dear. She won't live to give birth to it, if we receive word that she's carrying a baby," he assures you. "You are the only woman who will give me an heir," he adds with a smirk.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I should have listened earlier. I just couldn't bear it. Nothing made sense anymore," you whisper, your lips brushing against his cheek. He hums in reply, pressing his lips to yours in a long-awaited kiss.

It turns into a heavy makeout session. With tender care, he guides you onto the bed, slowly undressing you as if savoring every moment of intimacy. As he moistens his fingers with his tongue and begins to pump them inside of you, a soft moan escapes your lips, reveling in the sensation of his touch.

Your body arches with pleasure as he prepares you for him, each movement sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you. "Feels so good," you murmur, lost in the sensation. Feyd's grin widens as he leans over you, his touch both tender and tantalizing.

When he decides you're ready, he withdraws his fingers, eliciting a soft whine of longing from you. "It's alright, my little mouse. I will give you what you want," he shushes. As he frees himself from his pants, your hand instinctively reaches for him, eager to feel his hardness in your grasp.

A low groan escapes him at your touch, but he gently removes your hand, his own need evident in his impatient tone. "Not now," He says, his voice thick with lust. "I can't wait any longer to be inside you." With a sense of urgency, he positions himself between your legs, ready to claim you completely.

He gazes down at you with love and care. "You won’t be able to walk tomorrow," he warns with a sly grin, teasing as he lets the tip of his arousal slide between your heated folds before thrusting inside you.

Once fully sheathed within your tight walls, he leans over you, his arms caging your head to support his weight. In this position, he is able to see your face much better. "I will make you forget everything that pained you these past weeks. You are mine," he growls possessively with his lips attached to the sensitive skin of your neck as his hips begin to move in a rhythmic thrust.

At first, his movements are slow and deliberate, punctuated by tender kisses, until you relax completely under his touch and he increases the pace. Your legs are lifted up over his shoulders, allowing him to penetrate even deeper, luring whimpers of pleasure from you as your nails dig into the porcelain skin of his back.

"So tight. Taking me so well, little mouse," he praises softly near your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls contract around him, gripping him tighter, causing him to groan in pleasure. "Stop it, I'm not going to last if you keep tightening up like this," he warns you, his head falling back in pleasure.

But the sensation feels too good to stop, and you beg him to just come inside you with your voice hazy with desire. Feyd's eyes sparkle at your pleads. "Touch yourself," He orders, encouraging you.

It doens't take long for you to reach your climax, gripping his shoulders for support and screaming his name. He watches your face intently, praising you. "Yes that's it, good girl. Come on my cock."

Without letting you fully come down from your high, he starts to thrust deeper. “Going to fill you up now, you want that?” You whine at his words, nodding impatiently. “You'll look beautiful with my baby inside of you, all big and swollen.” His words drive you insane and with each thrust, he pushes you both closer.

With a final thrust, he releases himself inside you, bringing you to another climax as the room fills with both of your cries of pleasure.

"Afterwards, he takes good care of you, cleaning your sensitive skin with a wet cloth and ensuring you're comfortable in bed. His arms find their way around your body, pulling you closer.

"I haven't slept well since you left," he admits, nuzzling his face into your neck. You chuckle at the sensation because it tickles.

"I also slept horribly," you respond, your hand caressing the back of his neck. But tonight, you sleep better than you have in weeks, knowing your husband is right there beside you, and you never want to let go again.

Fortunately, it's only a week later when another message from your sister reaches you. As you read through it with full concentration, a lump forms in your throat due to the wave of emotions that washes over you.

"She's not pregnant," you inform Feyd, who stands before you. His eyes visibly brighten with relief and he moves closer to embrace you tightly. No words are needed, you can feel each other's emotions clearly.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll deal with the punishment for the Bene Gesserit," Feyd assures you after a while of holding each other. His anger still simmers, just as intense as the night Margot Fenring used the voice on him. He won't let it slide easily.

You find comfort in knowing that Feyd will handle the situation, likely with the help of his uncle, the Baron. But for now, you push aside all thoughts of pain, focusing on the relief of the moment.

On the same day, after rearranging the last few items in your shared chamber, which you hastily moved back into, a gleaming blade catches your eye. Your husband possesses a collection of blades in various sizes and styles, but you recognize this one as his favorite - the one he always carries with him. You approach the desk and study the blade intently.

Suddenly, strong arms wrap around your body, and you gasp quietly in surprise. "This one is for you," Feyd whispers behind you. Your eyes remain fixed on the knife, his words sinking in.

This blade holds significant importance to him, having accompanied your husband since his childhood when he first learned to fight. It's a profound gesture of trust and affection that he would gift it to you now. Despite the Harkonnen's reputation for brutality and coldness, they occasionally reveal their emotions to those they love. This blade serves as a metaphor, symbolizing Feyd's gift of his heart to you forever.

[tthoroughfare]

kerosene // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: the setup of a slow burn between you and ellie.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: jackson!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: sfw

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 1.7k

so... this actually started out as NOTHING. i planned for it to be nothing. just me, my pages app and my love for jackson!ellie & that fuck ass hoodie against the world. howeverrrr i may or may not have written almost 10k so far that i'm planning to split up (and continue) into an ongoing series just focusing on you and ellie living in jackson, spending time with your friends, slowly falling in love. real piners rise

god i just love jackson ellie so much. her little nerdy cocky self

the idea of being friends and pining over each other for literal years because you’re both too scared to say anything… catching the other staring, having a few little moments here and there but chalking it up to nothing because you both don’t believe the other would see you like that.

and then she starts dating cat and you’re just like welp. guess this is really never ever gonna happen after all. you let yourself mope for a while, not wanting to go out as much for fear of seeing them together and feeling that strange pang in your chest — just overall being weird and avoiding ellie. you feel silly, really, locking yourself away and listening to sad music over someone you were never even with.

you selfishly hope it doesn’t last long, that it’s just a fling, but when months go by and they’re still together, you come to some sort of acceptance. you even date someone else for a short while to try and take your mind off of her, but quickly realize you’re just searching for scattered parts of her in someone else. and something in your gut tells you that while nothing’s wrong within the relationship, it just doesn’t feel right. doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to.

meanwhile, ellie’s mindset was that she never really saw you as attainable in the first place. and she did genuinely really like cat, so when she initiated the relationship, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to see where it went. you were always at the back of her mind, though. she didn’t like the way you’d distanced yourself. you were never best friends, but definitely fairly close. she felt the switch almost overnight, the way you stopped going out of your way to talk to her, stopped asking her to tag along when you'd hang out with jesse and dina. she didn’t know what your deal was. the thought that you might be jealous did cross her mind, but she quickly swatted it away. why would you be jealous? it’s only her.

when you started seeing someone yourself, it was like confirmation. nothing was ever gonna happen, you weren’t jealous; how could any of that be the case when you were right there, with someone else? she cursed herself for even thinking about any of it, guilty conscience thick when her mind would then turn to cat. she knew she shouldn’t be deliberating whether you were jealous, whether you liked her, whether anything could ever happen between you, when she had a girlfriend.

she tried her hardest to push you out of her mind whenever you’d arise. she still saw you around, sometimes alone, sometimes with your girlfriend. you’d talk pleasantly, share a few laughs, but it wasn’t like it used to be.

and then one day, when she’s on her way home, she sees you by yourself. you’re sitting under a tree reading, headphones in. she can’t help but notice you look a little melancholy, like you don’t want to be bothered. she deliberates on whether to disturb you or not, stopping, then going to walk away, then stopping again. against her better judgement, she wanders over to you and nudges you gently with the side of her foot.

you look up, offering a small smile and tugging your headphones out. “hey.”

“hey.” ellie mirrors you, shooting back a soft smile of her own. a beat of slightly awkward silence passes as she tries to think of the reason she actually came over. she doesn’t even have one.

“what’s up?” you ask after a few seconds.

“uh… not much. just… uh… wanted to say hi.”

the corner of your mouth quirks into a slight smirk. “well… you just did.”

ellie breathes out a quiet chuckle, bringing her hands together to mess with her fingers. “very funny.” she pauses, then hesitantly crouches and sits beside you. “whatcha reading?”

you turn the cover so that she can see it. “mystery book,” you say, eyes flitting between ellie and the novel, before you rest it back in your lap, starting to lightly read again.

“you want me to tell you who the killer is?”

you chuckle, looking back up at ellie. “sure, take a stab at it.”

ellie’s eyebrows raise slightly. “pun intended?”

you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow as you realize what you just said. “nope. guess i’m just too witty.”

she looks down and smiles lightly, before looking up at the sky in feigned thought. she clicks her fingers. “it’s the priest.”

you let out a laugh. “there isn’t even a priest in it.”

“that’s what you think,” she quips back, feigning seriousness. “he will be introduced in… 43 pages.”

you roll your eyes, unable to hold back a smile. “shut up.”

“nope. wanna hear some more of my predictions? 100% accuracy guaranteed.”

“sure.”

“… you’re in a shitty mood,” ellie says matter-of-factly, before her voice softens. “seriously, you good? you look all…”

she trails off, gesturing at you slightly.

you chew at the inside of your cheek. truth be told, you are in a shitty mood, but you didn’t realize it was visible. plus, you don’t really want to talk about it. especially not to ellie, of all people. “yeah, nah, i’m fine.”

she just gives you a look in reply — one to say, ‘i’m not stupid’. to which, you let out a small sigh and shake your head. you’re not good at lying to ellie. “okay, i guess i may be in a… tiny bit of a slump.”

she shuffles a bit, leaning back on her hands. “why? what’s wrong?”

you pick at your nail, pausing. “i don’t know, man. just… yeah. stuff.”

“what kinda stuff?”

you curse her in your head for pushing, but simultaneously feel a pulse in your chest that she cares. you don’t particularly want to talk to ellie about your relationship. or lack thereof. it feels embarrassing, for some reason. in the end, you let out a small, defeated sigh. “ugh. just… so… i’m not with you-know-who anymore.”

ellie raises her eyebrows, trying to ignore the way she feels selfish relief. “damn. that sucks.”

you shrug. “i suppose so.”

another awkward pause occurs as ellie tries to think of what to say. comforting people has never really been her forte, but she wants to try for you. plus, she’s curious. “…wh-what happened?”

you look up, eyes flitting around the scenery, pulling a small face as you think. “nothing, really. just… wasn’t working. like… didn’t really feel right, y’know?”

she quirks an eyebrow, looking sideways at you. “so it was you, huh?”

you let out something between a breathed out chuckle and a groan. “…yeah. i felt really mean.”

“damn. you’re ruthless. heartbreaker,” she teases deadpan in response, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

to which, you roll your eyes and snicker, the smile lingering on your face. even in the worst mood, you’d noticed, ellie could always make you laugh somehow. “shut up. it wasn’t like that.”

“then what was it like?”

you shrug lightly, toying with the cover of your book. “i don’t know. went as best as it could, i suppose. i have nothing against her, nothing happened, it just… yeah. like i said. wasn’t right.”

ellie hums in acknowledgment, looking away in thought. her silence feels a little uncomfortable, driving you to babble on. “i don’t know, she’s nice and everything, but it just felt like we were kind of… wasting each other’s time. i didn’t see it actually going anywhere. i know we’re still young, and… y’know, it’s hardly like we have to marry each other or whatever. but something just felt missing. i don’t know.”

you glance at ellie briefly, then back down at your book, tracing the cover art with your fingertip. “like… you and cat. you guys seem happy. what does that feel like?”

she feels a little taken off guard. she’s not used to talking about this with anyone; anyway, nobody’s ever really asked. she shifts, sitting cross legged and leaning her forearms on her thighs, messing with her hands. “uh… i don’t know. i haven’t really thought about it.”

you furrow your eyebrows slightly. not really the reaction you were expecting. “oof. what does that mean?”

ellie lets out a drawn out hum, wrinkling her chin. “… i don’t know. i suppose it just feels… hm. it’s just… what it is. i guess.”

you pull a face, blowing air through your nose. “wow. don’t get too sappy on me, now. you’re gushing.”

her eyes roll in response to your sarcasm, a lopsided smirk on her face. “shut up.”

you mirror her smile, meeting her eyes for a few seconds, trying to shove down the way it burns a hole through you, makes your chest feel like it’s constricting.

the moment is broken by a call of ellie’s name. you both automatically look up, spotting cat strolling over with a bright smile on her face. 

“speak of the devil,” you murmur jokingly, turning to look back at ellie briefly.

she scoffs in response, moving to stand up. when cat presses a small kiss to her lips in greeting, resting a hand on her arm, you avert your eyes.

cat looks down at you, offering a soft smile and a wave. “hey.”

“hey,” you reply, looking back up. you did really like cat. you weren’t necessarily friends, but she was cool, and funny, and always nice to you. you flit your eyes between her and ellie as she turns back, addressing her girlfriend.

“i was on my way to yours. we still watching a movie tonight?”

ellie looks down at you, then back at cat, an unreadable expression on her face. “uh… yeah, yeah. for sure.”

cat smiles at ellie, taking her hand and lightly swinging it between them. “… well, we’ll leave you to it,” she says to you.

you nod slowly. “yup. catch you two later.”

you wave half-heartedly at them both as they walk away hand-in-hand, free hands returning the gesture. you busy yourself with putting your headphones back in and choosing a new song, but if you were looking up, you’d have seen ellie look back at you. twice.

[starrvsn]

ꕮ ˚₊ ꒰ EVAN BUCKLEY ⁾⁾ UNEXPECTED BUT NOT WELCOME

﹙ SHOW/FANDOM ⠆911﹚

PAIRING ⠆evan 'buck' buckley x gn!reader.

CATEGORIES ⠆fluff, single-father!buck, buck is a girl dad oliver said it himself!﹙requests are open! pls im begging﹚

buck is practically trembling with nerves in his seat. next to him is his young daughter, adeline. the absolute light of his life. now, this is not an unfamiliar sight by any means, buck brings adeline out to dinner all the time. with friends and family, but what makes this outing different is that he’s meant to be on a date, with you. this currently, would be your fifth date, and yes he’s counting. 

over the course of this past month buck found himself diving head first for you- it was a feeling he isn't used to, he so used to second thoughts when things get serious, never having to chase but with you he wanted to know everything about you by the end of your first date, you were so different from his past relationships and flings, you were giving him something that felt worth-while. he's been so enamored by you're mere existence that he's forgotten to tell you about the most important part about his life. besides his taxing, yet giving career, though you've heard all about it. the part of his life that he puts before everything else. adeline, his two year daughter, who he's had the honor of raising since the split of him and adeline's mother, it was a fling- she got pregnant and couldn't bare to raise a child on her own so she left her with buck, at his door with a note and he welcomed it with open arms, not doubting his choice for a second.

she is the best thing to ever happen to him, fatherhood has been so refreshing to him. for most of his life all he knew was living for the rush of it, running from it– trying to figure out what the meaning of it was. it felt like a meaningless cycle until he became a father, he found it. it took buck a while to get back into the dating scene, with work and raising adeline, a relationship didn't fit into that. but now with adeline growing to be a courageous and beaming child and with all his close friends, sister included pushing him to get out more, he dipped his toes.

he was always transparent about being a single father, getting it out the way on the first date because he was looking for a relationship that mattered and could grow into more. he always wanted a mother figure for adeline, and don't get him wrong all the amazing women in his life are such role models to her but he wanted something to call his, a little family of his own. most dates never really pursued anything after the first date, mostly being that he's a single parent and that was intimidating to them, regardless of his good-looks and endless charm. they didn't want to be suddenly tied down with someone’s daughter. it was their loss more than his but for some reason with you, it was different. you knew yourself and didn't hide your flaws or imperfections, but also clear in the things you valued, you brought a new perspective to buck which he found so attractive. he sees a future with you, he's thought about it countlessly after your dates and hours long of conversations you've had over the phone. he was so sure, but he knows its the early stages of your relationship that he has yet to break it to you.

bringing adeline to dinner was his last resort, initially he had maddie and chim look after her but after jeeyun caught a cold they had to cancel last minute. buck had asked every one of his close friends if they would be able to look after her but everyone seemed to be busy. and not wanting to suddenly flake out and raincheck, buck brought adeline to your date. it was so last minute that he didn’t even have the chance to ask you about it, because before he knew it he’s sat in a booth with his young daughter sitting next to him scribbling away on a color sheet the host had given her. buck has really been looking forward to seeing you and your date had already been rescheduled due to complications with work so the last thing he wanted to do was postpone it even further.

adeline is quite oblivious to this situation, more excited upon the fact that she’s out for dinner eating yummy food with her favorite person in the world. despite being outgoing, adeline has trouble with meeting new people, so breaking her out of her shell was tough. that was what he worried most, he knew this was a disaster in the making, adeline meeting you and the other way around, he wasn't sure how it was going to play out.

now, with adeline in his lap and his knee bouncing under the table, awaiting your arrival. bucks eyes keep checking the entrance and his daughter who's blissfully coloring in his lap. he’s normally confident—charming, smooth, the kind of guy who can hold his own in any room. but tonight, he’s nervously fidgeting with the hem of his sweater.

he glances at the time again. you’re about fifteen minutes late. realistically, he knows that doesn’t mean anything; things happen, traffic exists, maybe you just lost track of time. but unrealistically, that voice in the back of his head is spiraling.

what if you see adeline and change your mind? what if this was too much too soon? what if he’s just ruined something that had real potential?

as if sensing his torpedo of thoughts, she looks up at him, crayon in hand. “dada sad?" he tiny voice breaking his daze.

buck blinks, looking at her “hm? no, baby dada's not sad.” though he might be if you didn't show up at all or worse, break things off with him.

"dada face sad" she tilts her head, imitating his worried expression, pinched eyebrows and lips tight. he coos pinching her cheek. "not sad, sweet pea, just nervous."

“nervous? why?”

“because we're meeting someone really special to daddy, i just hope they like us." over simplifying his words because if he went on a full blown tangent to his toddler people would think he's insane. adeline's little face looks thoughtful for a moment, before nodding and going back to coloring "i like us."

he smiles, heart squeezing. “me too.”

and just as the knot in his stomach begins to tighten further, he hears it, the familiar jingle at the door, then you. you’re apologizing to the hostess at the front, looking slightly frazzled but still just as effortlessly beautiful as always. his breath catches. there you are.

you spot him almost immediately, relief flooding your face as you wave and make your way over.

“hey,” you greet breathlessly, brushing tucking hair that’s fallen out of your face. “i am so sorry, work ran late and then everything was chaos and—” your words halt, your eyes flicking down to the small figure sitting in his lap. “oh.”

“hey!” he said, standing up partway, trying not to jostle the toddler too much. “y/n, i’m so sorry. i know this is definitely not what we planned.”

you smiled easily, warmth easing the slight tension on his face. “don't worry about it, i assume she's yours?" brushing his nerves, your eyes shifting to the little girl now hiding her face in his chest.

buck nods, swallowing thickly “this is adeline. my daughter.” you nodded, noticing how she has curls matching bucks and her tiny fists clutching bucks sweater. you take your seat across from him, shrugging your coat off and purse onto the seat next to you.

“i, uh... couldn’t find a sitter last minute,” he adds, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, feeling the need to explain himself further despite you giving him so much grace “jeeyun got sick and everyone seemed to be busy tonight," he tries to laugh it off but he comes off as something between a sigh and nervous chuckle "i really didn't want to cancel tonight and i figured... we could make it work?"

“of course we can make it work” you said softly, leaning across to brush your fingers against adeline's tiny ones but it doesn't get a reaction from her. "sorry she doesn't warm up to people quickly." bucks heart thumps, your simple action with his daughter making everything suddenly feel real. "that's okay, i was like that when i was younger." you laugh, sounding like music to bucks ears, your heart softens at how cute she is, though not having seen her face yet. you try again, determined "hi adeline, my name is y/n. i love your coloring sheet." your voice soft and inviting, careful to not startle her.

then, she rustles away from bucks chest, a few of her curls falling onto her forehead. she looks at you wide deep blue eyes like bucks. she lifts a crayon to you and says "color?"

"yes, your coloring looks beautiful!" you smile, pointing to her sheet on the table. adeline mirrors you, a gummy smile gracing her face, grabbing another crayon with her unoccupied hand.

"color with me?" she sounds hopeful, with lips pouty and eyes you can’t refuse. you melt, taking the crayon from her hand gently. buck can't take his eye off the two of you, if you look closely enough his iris’ are shaped like heart, watching you interact with her, with such care, coloring with her and asking her what the colors were and what he favorite color is. it makes his chest warm and throat tight, you were so effortlessly good with her already.

"she's so precious." you pipe up, pausing your effort to fill in the sun. looking up at him, he snaps his gaze to you. he clears his throat, brushing a few hairs sticking up from the back of her head “yeah, she’s my whole world.”

you practically melt, looking at him then his daughter. they looked so much alike, practically a mini me of him– her mothers genes did not stand a chance.

“if i’m being honest, i didn’t take you as a single father type but it makes you much more attractive.” buck flutters at your words, a light flush crossing his cheeks.

buck lets out a breathy laugh, the tension that had been wound so tight in his chest beginning to unravel. “yeah?” he asks, his voice a little uneven around the edges, disarmed by the way you say it—so casually, so kindly, like it was just a fact and not something that had haunted him for weeks.

you nod, your eyes meeting his, sincere and warm. “yeah,” you repeat. “there’s something really beautiful about the way you love her. you can just… tell. you’re so good with her and it shows.”

buck swallows hard. for all the times people have told him he’s a good dad, it’s different hearing it from you. especially here, like this on a date that wasn’t supposed to include a toddler, with his nerves in a knot and his daughter curled in his lap like a tiny anchor. but somehow, this feels more like a turning point than a disaster.

“thank you,” he murmurs, a bit shy. reaching down to tuck one of adeline’s curls behind her ear. she leans into his touch instinctively, and the image alone makes your heart squeeze.

adeline hands you another crayon, a red one this time, and buck watches as you take it with a small bow, as if honored she’s included you in her coloring time, your eyes crinkling as you smile. you even thank her, a sweet little baby voice, that came out so naturally. it makes her giggle—a sound buck has always loved but suddenly loves even more now that you’re the one pulling it from her.

dinner arrives and the conversation flows in and out of coloring books and crayon choices and toddler chatter. buck cuts Adeline’s food into small pieces with practiced ease, checking the temperature with the back of his fork before placing it in front of her. you help her with her napkin when she accidentally drops it, and without thinking, you reach over to wipe the side of her mouth with your thumb after she misses a spot with her tiny hands.

buck watches all of it like he’s trying to burn the image into his memory.

halfway through the meal, Adeline starts getting sleepy, her head resting against buck’s chest, lashes fluttering closed. he rocks her gently, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. you lean your cheek against your hand, watching him, affection blooming warm in your chest.

“i really like you, buck,” you say, voice soft, not wanting to disturb the calm around you.

he looks up at you, surprised, but not in a way that doubts it—more in awe, like he can’t believe he gets to hear that from you.

“i like you, too,” he says, and then after a pause “so much.”

a moment passes before he speaks again, “i was so afraid this would scare you off.”

you smile, feeling the complete opposite “it would’ve, if i wasn’t serious about you, it would’ve been a little intimidating. but it’s not.”

he blinks at that, blinking again just to make sure he heard it right. you don’t look away. don’t shy from the weight of what that means.

“i know this is early,” you continue, voice low, “but i’ve been thinking about it, what this could be. what we could be.”

buck feels something shift in his chest—something real, something grounding. all this time he was so sure his thoughts were one sided but instead are mutual, it makes him feel a little lighter. he glances down at Adeline, her breath even and warm against him, then back at you. he reaches across the table, palm up. You place your hand in his without hesitation.

he squeezes gently. “so… a sixth date?”

you smirk. “are kids invited?”

he laughs quietly, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “just the very important one.”

you squeeze his hand back. “i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

and just like that, buck knows he hadn’t ruined anything. If anything, he might’ve just found the start of everything he’s ever wanted.

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

[miiyoshi]

hihiii how are yoou? Ahm i was hoping for a couple of random hc of Kuroo as a boyfriend. only if you can and have time, there's no rush ;)) and fem reader plss

hi cutie ! you're my first ever request ahhhh i'm doing great how are u??

here are your requested boyfriend!kuroo headcanons, i hope you like!! <33333

boyfriend!kuroo who always acts so sly and teasing but was actually losing his mind the first time he saw you because he’s never had someone who made him speechless (it’s usually the other way around)

boyfriend!kuroo who never lets you pay and absolutely REFUSES to split the bill — the one exception is if you want to treat him to a dinner out for his birthday but even then you have to absolutely insist that you want to

boyfriend!kuroo who basically has you plastered all on his belongings. phone wallpapers, photo of you in his wallet, phone case, the small compartment of his work bag. he especially loves when you leave small reminders of you behind in his space like a hair tie on his bedside table or your lip gloss in the glove compartment of his car.

boyfriend!kuroo who is trying to work on his possessiveness. he’s got it all under control, but he hates how you have to act nice to that one coworker who’s just a little too touchy at the company christmas party you’re both currently attending.

boyfriend!kuroo who goes out with the japanese national volleyball team a few nights every week, who never fails to invite you every time. the whole team knows you well at this point, and the only time when you don’t join them is if you already have plans of your own

boyfriend!kuroo who never brings up the topic of marriage on his own, it’s usually you that initiates the conversation. it’s not that he’s not thinking about getting engaged to you, he’s just extremely.. weary.

weary that you’ll be able to read him like a book and know exactly what he’s up to. you’re no mind reader, but you know kuroo more than anyone else in the world — the smallest change in his behaviour can cause suspicion in your mind.

boyfriend!kuroo who doesn’t realize that by him not initiating the marriage talk is actually what helped you figure him out.

that, but also of course the way his friends talk about his admiration for you when he steps away from the conversation for just a second. you can’t even remember how many people have mentioned that kuroo told them you were “the one.”

if that wasn’t convincing enough for you, the beautiful sparkling diamond ring in its box shoved into a pair of his socks of your shared dresser might also mean a thing or two.

[societyfolklore]

Kuritsa

Title: Kuritsa

Pairing: Winter Solider! Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Female Reader

Summary:  You life has been stolen from you now held captive by HYDRA for breeding purposes, paired with the Winter Soldier. You dreamed of freedom.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: ::Explicit Content:: 18+, Minors DNI, Dub-con/Sexual contact initiated under coercion, programming, and captivity, Sexual Assault/Breeding Context (themes of being used as a vessel), Depictions of Violence and Blood, Brainwashing chair, memory erasure, Imprisonment/Captivity, Psychological Trauma, Mind Control/Programming, Sedation/Physical Helplessness, Dehumanization, Dark Sexual Content, blurring trauma and craving, Smut, Unprotected Sex (DONT DO THIS) ...angst..

A/N:  fic inspired by Bo Burnham's "The Chicken." – In honor of April fools day... well I had the idea I'd post it than.. BUT THIS ISN’T A JOKE FIC.. so to be safe its getting posted now (Yes, technically its April 1st where I am.. But yeah..just.. DONT JUDGE)

You always heard him first. It was the sound that woke you up. A jagged scream, animalistic and raw, that tore through the sterile silence of the compound.

The screams were muffled through the walls, but they still split through you like wire dragged over raw skin. Wet, strangled, inhuman. They had him in the chair again. You knew it by the rhythm- shouts cut off mid-breath, followed by silence. Then the electric hum. Then the screaming again. Over and over. Mechanical. Precise. Cruel.

You flinched every time. Not because it was him. Because you remembered.

The same chair. The same straps. The same cold leather biting into your spine. The sting of the restraints as they tightened around your wrists. The stench of melted wires. The taste of your own blood from where you bit your tongue just to keep from screaming like that.

The same blank faces leaning over you, muttering notes while they pulled you apart neuron by neuron. Probing. Recording. Smiling.

You used to fight it. Kick. Spit. Bite.

That was before.

Then, you began mumbling names into the dark; yours? Someone else’s? A place with sun? The owner of the voice that laughed? The notes of a song you couldn’t quite remember? They were shadows now. Fragments. Ash in your mouth.

Your cage was damp. The walls sweat in summer, froze in winter. Mold crept along the ceiling. You slept curled, knees to chest, like a bird with clipped wings. Sometimes, your shoulder blades ached like phantom wings were trying to burst free.

They called you that sometimes.

“Back in your cage, little bird.”

Sometimes, you thought if you stared long enough at the rusted metal grate in the ceiling, it might dissolve. That maybe you'd float right up through it like smoke, disappearing into some unreachable sky. You used to imagine what that would feel like weightless, free. As if your body would just melt away, and your soul could slip between the bars like vapor. But you never did.

There was no sky. No smoke. Just the walls. Just the dark. Just the screams.

And him.

You would’ve clawed their eyes out if you had the strength. Some days, you tried. Weak swipes, trembling fists. They laughed. Sometimes they hit back. Sometimes they didn’t need to. Just dragging you down the corridor was enough to remind you what you were.

Your life was hell: invasive tests, sterile rooms, long needles that never seemed to stop. You were monitored constantly. Recorded. Measured. Bled. Injected. Re-injected. Burned. Frozen. Made to run until your legs buckled. Made to scream until your throat bled. They treated your body like a blueprint and a battlefield all at once.

Then they’d toss you into his cell when it was time nothing was said. Just the click of the door. The shove between your shoulder blades. The sound of it locking behind you.

And him. Already there. Still. Watching. Waiting.

The Winter Soldier didn’t beat you. Didn’t growl or leer or curse. He didn’t speak unless instructed. He mounted you like they told him to, like it was a drill, like your body was just another mission to complete. Another task in the protocol. Like you were a sheath. A target. A breeding container.

And still you preferred him to them.

You had a warped affection for the Winter Soldier. Maybe it was the silence. Maybe it was that he didn’t make it worse. Maybe it was the way, just once, he touched your face after. Or the way he sometimes hesitated at the door.

You didn’t know what it was. You only knew it was the closest thing to gentleness left in your world.

You could still taste the metal in your mouth from the bit they used to hold your jaw still. It haunted you; cold and tangy, sharp as betrayal. The phantom pressure of it still made your teeth ache, your jaw clench in your sleep. You had bitten down on it so hard once, a molar cracked.

Your cell smelled of bleach and old blood, the kind of stench that lived in your skin even after they hosed you down. The floor was always damp, the kind of damp that seeped into your bones and never left. Mold crept in the corners like it knew no one would care to clean it. The walls whispered in the dark, a constant hum of pain soaked into the concrete, voices of other girls who didn’t last long enough to be named.

You dreamed of green places, warm hugs, kind smiles. Sometimes, a soft bed. A blanket that smelled like flowers. A kitchen table. Your fingers curled around a mug of tea. A dog barking in the distance. Sometimes, you thought those dreams were real, like they weren’t just fragments of a life someone else lived. Maybe a life you had once. Before.

HYDRA guards mocked you constantly. Their voices were oil-slick and cruel, rehearsed jokes to entertain themselves while you wilted behind bars.

“Back in your cage, little bird.” “Don’t break her- we’ll need her eggs soon.”

Sometimes they laughed when they said it. Sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes they said it softly, like they meant it as comfort. Like you were a thing, not a person. A vessel. A hen.

You were underfed. Frail. Your ribs showed when you breathed. But their mistake was thinking that made you weak. They saw hollow cheeks and shaky legs and thought you’d given up.

But inside you, something still burned.

Because one day, when they came for you, you fought.

~#~#~#~#~

When the moment came you didn’t think. You just moved.

The second the cell door creaked open, something ancient and wild ignited in your blood. You exploded forward, driven by instinct, by rage, by a raw, primal need to live. A scream- feral and guttural- ripped from your throat as you slammed your elbow into the nearest guard’s neck with a satisfying crack. He dropped like a stone, choking.

Another guard lunged, but you caught him mid-motion, grabbing a fistful of his uniform and smashing his face into the concrete wall so hard the sound echoed like a gunshot. A third grabbed your arm, but you twisted under it with a snarl, your fingernails gouging deep furrows into his cheek, hot blood spraying across your face.

There were shouts. Alarms. The buzz of static in radios. Boots thundered behind you, but you were already gone, barefoot, bloodied, sprinting down the corridor like a bullet let loose. The red emergency lights strobed across the walls as your shadow leapt and flickered with every step.

You Ran, You flew.

The thing they put in your veins, the one they’d whispered about while jabbing you full of needles and watching you writhe. It surged now. It made your muscles coil and spring, made you faster, harder to catch. Not like the others, maybe. But enough.

You hurled your body into a security door, shoulder-first, and it gave way with a scream of twisted hinges. It slammed against the far wall, denting metal. You stumbled, caught yourself, kept going.

Footsteps thundered behind you. Shouts growing louder.

You took the corner too fast and your bloodied feet slipped on the polished floor. You crashed into the wall, pain flaring down your spine. But you didn’t stop.

Another door. Locked. You threw yourself at it. Again. Again.

It buckled. You screamed, the sound inhuman, your throat raw.

You weren’t running anymore. You were escaping. You were breaking through.

And still, behind you, they came.

The world outside was warmer than you remembered- oppressively so, like it was pressing down on you, trying to smother the panic clawing through your ribs. Pine needles slashed at your legs, carving sharp little welts into your skin. Branches whipped across your face, drawing blood, blinding you in bursts of green.

The trees blurred past you, but your vision pulsed with black spots at the edges. The air seared down your throat, each breath like swallowing knives. Your lungs burned. Your knees screamed. Your bare, bloodied feet hit roots and rocks, tearing skin, but you didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

Somewhere behind you- closer than before- voices shouted. Dozens of them. Radio static barked out garbled commands. Dogs barked. Boots thundered. Gunfire cracked so close it popped your ears. Bark exploded from a tree to your left. The trunk shattered near your ribs. A bullet.

You pushed harder.

You were being hunted.

Your legs were shaking. You weren’t sure if it was pain or adrenaline keeping you upright. Something hot was dripping down your shin. Your vision swam.

But you didn’t stop.

Couldn’t stop.

And then

The trees broke.

A road.

Blacktop. Screeching tires. You stumbled forward, half-falling onto the guardrail. Horns blared. The scent of exhaust and heat and rubber filled your nose.

Across the road, you saw it.

A meadow. Vast and wild, stretching endlessly beneath a sky smeared with lavender and gold. The grass was green and thick, heavy with dew that sparkled like glass in the fading light. Wildflowers swayed- violets, daisies, yellow bursts of something unnamed. The breeze danced through them, carrying the soft hush of the earth breathing.

Above, birds wheeled through the sky, dipping and soaring, their wings catching the sun like flashes of silver. Everything here was alive. Unashamedly, impossibly alive.

You remembered green places, warm hugs, kind smiles. Fingers threaded through your hair while someone hummed a lullaby. The feel of warm earth between your toes. Laughter carried on the wind. Someone calling your name,  not the one they gave you here, but the one that belonged to you before.

For a moment, the world tilted. Something inside you ached so sharply it stole the air from your lungs.

This meadow wasn't a fantasy. It was a memory.

You moved, climbing over the low barrier, the rough tarmac biting into your feet, still wet and blood-slick from the forest floor. Each breath in your chest came sharp and ragged, like your lungs were tearing with every inhale. The roar of engines filled your ears, deafening, and the scent of rubber and oil churned your stomach.

“Kuritsa.”

You froze.

His voice. Low. Steady. From behind you. From the tree line.

“Come back.”

You turned.

The Winter Soldier stood there, framed by shadows and pine. Expression unreadable. Gun lowered but not discarded. His eyes locked on you like he was tethered- like if you moved too far, something in him would snap.

“Don’t fly, little bird,” he said, quieter this time. Almost… pleading. Even at this distance you could hear him. “They’ll clip you again.”

A choice..

You looked back.

The meadow. The other side. Golden, glowing. Wind stirring the wildflowers like hands reaching out to welcome you home.

Your head jerked back and forth, heart pounding so hard it hurt. Left. Right. Left. Right. The cars flew past like metal beasts, one after another, their horns screaming. Your ears rang. Your knees shook.

There- a gap. A breath. A beat of silence in the thunder.

You lunged.

Rubber screeched behind you. A side mirror clipped your arm and spun you halfway around, but you caught yourself, pushed forward, legs burning.

You ran.

You ran like you never had before.

Like your soul depended on it.

You barely heard the gunfire anymore.

You dodged between honking cars, the wind of a speeding van nearly toppling you sideways. Someone screamed from a vehicle, a horn blared, a voice cursed- but none of it registered. Your focus tunnelled to the other side.

You leapt the last guardrail and your feet hit the soft earth of the field- mud, grass, roots all giving beneath your weight. The ground didn’t hurt. It welcomed you. Your knees buckled, but you caught yourself, palms scraping the soil, fingers sinking into it like you'd been starved of its touch your whole life.

The sun hit your face.

Warm.

Golden.

It wrapped around you like a second skin. You stumbled forward, breathless, and the sharp roar of the road fell behind you like a door slamming shut. The farther you went, the quieter it all became. The birds circled overhead. The sky opened up above you. Wind moved through your hair.

The grass brushed your legs like fingers. Wildflowers bent toward you. Every step you took felt lighter, like gravity had loosened its grip. Your chest still burned, your legs still trembled- but it didn’t matter.

You were free.

For a moment, you were free.

~#~#~#~#~

You woke up.

Your body hurt. Aches radiated deep in your joints, muscles stiff and sluggish as the sedative wore off. Your skin prickled like it had been dipped in ice water, and there was a heavy, smothering pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. It was always like this- the return. The slow drag back into a body that felt more like a cage than a home. The familiar fog of waking, like surfacing from a nightmare only to realize the nightmare is where you live.

Your cell. Concrete. Cold. The old mattress on the floor, the spring dug into your spine like punishment, its stuffing long since thinned to nothing. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead like insects chewing through your skull.

The contrast made it worse.

You had just been in the sun. You had felt the warmth on your face, tasted freedom, heard birdsong. And now- this. Gray. Sterile. The walls loomed like tombstones. The air was sour with bleach and mold. Your blanket was gone. The cot felt harder than usual, like it was punishing you for dreaming.

You started to cry.

It hadn’t been real.

You bit your knuckles to keep from sobbing loud enough for the cameras. But it was no use. The pressure in your chest cracked open like a fault line, and the whimpers slipped free, shaking, hopeless. Your body curled tighter, trying to fold in on itself, to disappear into the cold concrete floor.

You pressed your forehead to the ground. Tears smeared across the filth. Your shoulders heaved.

You had felt it. The wind. The sun. The way the earth gave under your feet instead of fighting you. You’d tasted freedom- and now it was gone. Ripped from your ribs like something delicate torn apart by teeth.

You were breaking.

Just the soft scuff of a boot on concrete. A shift in the silence.

You froze.

Your breath hitched.

Slowly, you lifted your head.

He was already inside the cell, standing just feet away, still and silent. Watching.

The Winter Soldier. Motionless. Built like a monolith. Cold light caught on the metal of his arm.

His eyes found you- and they were blue. Flat. Empty. As emotionless as frost.

He said nothing.

He just looked.

He stepped forward slowly, like you were a wounded animal, like he was afraid you’d break. His boots barely made a sound against the floor, each one placed with deliberate care- as if you might vanish if he moved too quickly.

"You had to be good, Kuritsa," he murmured, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it. "They wouldn’t tell me to hurt you if you were good."

There was something in the way he said it- like he wanted it to be true. Like he needed to believe it more than you did.

He reached for you. Not like a soldier following orders, but like someone trying not to scare the ghost in front of him. His hand hesitated in the air between you. Waiting. Wanting.

And you let him.

Because no one else reached for you. Because even this broken, programmed shell of a man was gentler than the rest. Because his touch- hesitant, calloused, human- was the only thing anchoring you to the world in that moment.

He stripped you gently. Despite the cold, he was warm. You both were. His body radiated heat, and when your skin touched, it felt like something real- something grounding in a world where everything else had become unrecognizable. Your body, your mind, your freedom- all had been twisted, burned, broken. But this? This was contact. Connection. A fragile thread back to something human.

He murmured "umnitsa" when you trembled instead of fought. The word fell like a feather against your cheek- foreign, yet almost soft, almost kind. You hadn’t heard kindness in so long that it carved through you like a blade.

His hands were rough, but careful. The callouses rasped across your hips as he steadied you. He traced the bones of your ribs, your stomach, like he was trying to memorize something forbidden. Like you were fragile and holy. His touch made you shiver, not from fear, but from the aching ache of being touched at all.

He waited for your nod. And when you gave it, small and tear-soaked, something in him relaxed. Like permission mattered. Like you mattered.

You were still weeping. You didn’t know why you needed this so badly. Maybe to kill the aching weight in your chest. Maybe to drown in sensation, to burn out the cold that lived in your marrow. Maybe to feel like anything other than a thing in a cage.

You gripped him- not out of lust, but because you needed something. Something alive. Something solid. A warmth to hold onto while the world around you blurred and cracked. But the longer you held him, the more that need twisted, deepened, darkened into something else. Something desperate.

His body pressed closer, the weight of him grounding you, overwhelming you. And when he aligned himself against your entrance, his thick, hard cock nudging at your core, you gasped. The heat of him seared through the cold in your bones, and for a moment, all you could do was hold your breath.

Then he pushed in.

Slow, steady, unrelenting.

The stretch burned- sharp and aching- as he filled you inch by inch, your walls fluttering around the thick length of him, your breath shattering with every heartbeat. You whimpered as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, buried to the hilt. The sting of the invasion was real, raw, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

It was the only invasion you ever craved.

He stayed there a beat, chest heaving against yours, his breath ragged. You felt the tension trembling in his muscles as he tried to hold back, as if even now he was waiting for you to break. But you didn’t. You pulled him closer.

Because the ache of being filled by him was the only thing that ever made you feel whole.

You both needed this, even if neither of you fully understood why. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was programming. Or maybe it was the only act left that made you feel like you had a body at all.

He moved inside you with no rush, no violence.

At first.

Just heat. Flesh. Friction. But you felt him grow bolder with every thrust, felt the rhythm change from tentative to possessive, like your body was something he was rediscovering and claiming in the same breath.  You whimpered as his hips snapped forward, rougher now, grinding against the deepest parts of you. You gasped- your head thrown back, legs trembling from the effort of taking him, from the pleasure spearing up your spine.

"Soldate..." you whispered, shocked at the sound of your own voice, he only grunted in reply.

The slap of skin against skin filled the room. Your nails dug into his back, clawing for purchase. He braced himself over you with his metal arm, the cold of it ghosting across your ribcage while his other hand gripped your thigh and hitched it higher. He fucked you like he was trying to bury himself inside you, deeper, deeper, until you didn’t know where he ended and you began.

You moaned for him and that seemed to break something open in him. His teeth grazed your neck, just a scrape, just a warning. You shuddered. His hand slipped between your legs, and when his thumb circled your clit, it was almost too much. You bucked against him, your orgasm cresting like a wave you couldn't stop.

"Cum." he growled, and you did. Your whole body arched, eyes squeezing shut, mouth open on a sob. You clenched around him, and he followed, rutting into you with a strangled groan before freezing, twitching inside you, his release hot and thick and undeniable.

For a moment, all you could do was pant beneath him, your body boneless and trembling. His forehead rested against yours, and his breath warmed your face. His fingers still moved against your thigh, slow now, almost reverent.

He didn’t speak. Just held you. Just stayed.

And for one terrible, perfect moment, you could pretend you weren’t in a cell at all.

He stayed inside you after. Heavy. Warm. You didn’t move, neither did he. Instead keeping himself pressed deep within you, like he could hold back the world by just staying there. Like if he stayed inside, the moment might stretch, safe and untouched.

You felt every twitch of him, the slow pulse of his cock still buried in your heat. He didn’t pull out, didn’t shift away. He just stayed. Ensuring nothing would spill. A painful reminder of your true purpose here.

The weight of him inside you was grounding and cruel all at once- comfort and control, tenderness and protocol.

His hand cupped your cheek. The same hand that had killed without pause.

“Good, little bird,” he whispered. “They won’t hurt you now.”

For a moment you believed him.

~#~#~#~#~

You were still sore. Still warm from him when they came after removing him from your cell.

You didn’t fight. He had made you promise. Whispered it against your skin while he was still inside you

“Be good Kuritsa. Be good for them like you were for me.”

So you didn’t fight. You just stared at the ceiling, empty and aching, when the guards returned.

“Not supposed to cross roads, little bird,” one of them sneered, voice dripping with smug cruelty. You barely blinked before the needle slid into your arm, sharp and fast. The sedative burned as it entered your vein, and within seconds, your limbs began to go heavy.

Still, you felt it all.

Their rough hands grabbed you by the arms and legs. One of them lifted you by the underarms while another gripped your thighs, dragging your limp body out of the cell like a broken doll. Your toes scraped along the concrete floor, leaving faint streaks as you tried- and failed- to move against them.

The corridor was a blur of fluorescent light and iron stench. You tried to twist away, but your limbs wouldn’t obey. Sluggish. Leaden. You whimpered, barely audible.

You recognized the hallway. The turns. The shape of the door at the end.

No. Not again.

When the door opened, you sobbed. That awful room. That awful chair. Waiting.

They hauled you inside like trash, flipping your body onto the leather seat. Cold restraints snapped over your wrists and ankles. Your head lolled to the side as you tried to resist, tried to pull your arms back, but they might as well have been made of stone.

You didn’t want this. You wanted the sun. The flowers. The breath of wind across your face.

But you weren’t in the meadow anymore.

You were back in the chair.

You wanted to plead. To beg. You were sorry, you wouldn’t do it again. You just wanted to hold on to something, to keep even a shred of that warmth inside you. But your lips were too heavy to form the words.

But he had said they wouldn’t do this. Not if you were good.

And you’d been good.

One tech hesitated, glancing down at you with something almost like pity. You tried to lock eyes with him, to will him to stop, to see you. But it was too late.

Another tech snapped, “Erase it. She’s dangerous now.”

Rough hands held you down tighter as you struggled weakly. A guard’s fingers pinched your jaw open. You whimpered. The bit forced into your mouth was hard and rubbery, pressing down against your tongue and teeth. The pressure made your cracked molar throb.

Then the seat began to tilt.

Slow. Mechanical. Inevitable.

You felt the world shift with it, the room pitching as gravity settled you deeper into the chair. The jaws of the machine descended- cold metal bracing your skull, clamping over your head like a vice. Your heart thundered. One side of your vision darkened as the rig covered your left eye.

Your panic rose, sharp and feral, tearing through the fog of sedation. You tried to twist, tried to scream around the bit, but your limbs barely moved. You could only writhe in slow, pathetic motions as the restraints cut into your skin.

You weren’t in a meadow. You weren’t running. You were here.

This time, it was your memory they erased.

Your escape.

They couldn’t let you know you could fly.

You screamed the words in your head, over and over, desperate and wild:

Birds fly. Meadow. Other side.

And then it came.

The pain.

White hot. Blinding.

Your back arched.

All you could hear was your own screams now, louder than the hum of the machine, louder than your racing heart. There was no world outside of that sound. Just your pain, ripped from your throat and thrown into the void.

[sc0tters]

Make It Up | Quinn Hughes & Trevor Zegras

summary: when you get left at the lake house with trevor and quinn, what happens when their bet has a way of helping you.

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!jack hughes best friend x trevor zegras

request: yes/no

warnings: mature themes, threesome, p in v (unprotected), oral (fem and m receiving!), mild choking, degradation, spanking, swearing, weed, and drinking.

word count: 6.74k

authors note: strap in people for our @sweetestdesire smut where our inner whore was truly released. I hope you all enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing it! and did this take me a week? yes…

“Don’t be so stupid!”

You heard Trevor groan as someone - who you could only assume to be Quinn - hit the boy on the head “I’m just saying that maybe we should let her decide who gets her?” Trevor’s shrugged still letting his hand nurse the sore spot on his head.

The boys were sat on the couch unaware of the fact that you had woken up and crawled out of the comfort that was your bedroom “you make her sound like she’s some toy bro.” Quinn scowled, knowing you were worth more than that.

But the younger boy laughed, taking the captains apprehension for something else “look if you think I could fuck Y/N better then, I’ll understand if you want to concede.” His words made your eyes go wide finally realizing that it was you that they were talking about, not one of the girls who stayed in the area for the summer.

The idea within itself was complicated, you were Jack’s best friend. Had been since you both ended up reaching for the last coke can in the cooler during a party.

It was that awkward moment as your hands touched “you can have it.” Jack offered letting his hand drop.

You were a gorgeous girl that had Jack wondering why he hadn’t seen you before “we could split it.” You shook your head as you smiled.

That offer was far more suitable for the two of you as he nodded ‘I would but I sorta got this rule that I need to know your name before I share a drink with you.” He made this exaggerated sigh that made you laugh.

The hockey player watched you playfully roll your eyes “it’s Y/N.” You mumbled holding your hand out to meet his “Jack.”

But somehow they didn’t really care for the innocence of that memory that was the foundation of which your friendship with Jack was built on.

“Oh you are so fucking on.”

With their handshake it now felt time for your presence to be known “you boys coming with for a run?” You forced a smile onto your lips acting like your mind wasn’t going a million miles a minute thinking about what they wanted to have be in store for you.

Their faces were red as their eyes went wide with fear wondering how much of that you had heard “geez, you’d think a bunch of athletes would be a little more cooperative.” You raised your hands in surrender assuming they wanted to discuss more of their conversation.

So they watched you walk off, sliding your shoes on before you sent them a salute. The boys grew jealous of your shorts and sports bra watching the material hug your breasts and the curve of your ass before you left them alone.

The desire that filled their bones was almost enough to have them run after you. But with the reminder of the fact that, the house was set to remain with just the three of you for another five days, they knew they could wait. After all, they couldn’t allow themselves to be seen as too desperate right?

Your initial plan for the summer was to have one last bit of fun before you headed off to work. After college you were left with two different offers which ironically enough, were in Vancouver and Anaheim. So now you were left with a measly week to reveal to them exactly which one you were going to take.

Now part of you was willing to just pick yourself, but being so indecisive by nature. When the idea came up of someone else picking for you, you practically chomped at the bit. Still refusing to let the figments of fantasy that your mind created around the boys plan, that they still didn’t bring up to your face.

But truthful it was all they could think about when they watched you fall asleep on the boat as the three of you grew used to each other. Settling into a routine what seemed to almost always have you in your bikini “I’m bored.” You whined skipping the song on Trevor’s playlist as you didn’t think you could handle the sounds of Drake once more.

You had been sat on the arm of the couch as you watched the boys play pool, after giving up when you lost for a fifth time in a row. As you sat up straight it made the boys smile turning their attentions to you “so what do you propose we do?” Trevor had a blunt between his fingers as he offered you a hit.

His eyes practically jumped into what felt like your soul as you nodded. Opening your lips slightly as you allowed him to rest it on your lower lip. Both boys watched in awe as your eyes never left Trevor’s “now breathe out f’me pretty girl.” His voice was soft as it made you feel at ease letting some of the herbal taste still on your tongue before you followed the instructions.

Trevor brought the blunt up to his own lips as even Quinn walked over to the two of you “what do you wanna do now doll?” The pet names had you feeling fuzzy when his hand was placed on your thigh.

It made you squirm as the alcohol in your system had you feeling everything in a tenfold strength “I want you both.” You confessed bringing the white claw that you were drinking to your lips to taste the mango flavored drink.

The boys swore they were dreaming, like their prayers had been answered and heavens gates opened. Yet when they remembered that they hadn’t brought it up to you panic did start to set in for the two of them.

Part of you realized your minor error and smiled as your cheeks turned a soft shade of pink “maybe it could help me decide where I go.” You shrugged running your fingers through your hair “and besides, it’s not like the two of you didn’t already want to fuck me.”

Trevor smirked running his fingers along his jaw as he looked down at you “y’know it’s rude to talk about someone behind their back.” He pointed out shaking his head, as if he was pretending to be disappointed that you had listened in on their conversation.

But instead a soft laugh left your lips as you took his dying blunt from him letting it rest between your fingers “thought it was worse to talk about someone though?” You quipped back bringing your feet up to the couches on either side of you, revealing the wet patch in your red bikini bottoms as you smirked “so if anything, I think we should be starting with an apology.” Your words were directed to them both as they couldn’t but almost cum on the spot as they watched your hand run down your bare thigh, with your baseball jersey - that you had most definitely stolen from Luke - falling to your sides.

The air in the room grew warm as the boys wondered who should really make the first move “princess if you want us to act sorry then you gotta do something for me first.” Quinn spoke up, almost in awe of how your eyes looked up at him when you nodded.

Quinn placed his fingers under your chin forcing your head up “go sit on the table f’me please.” Even as he had a tone strong enough to make your entire body squirm, he was still the well mannered boy that his mom raised him to be.

So of course you listened, short bursts of movement left the felt material against your ass “who do you want more of an apology from?” Trevor went to step in front of you as it was he who came up with the original idea of the agreement. Meaning that he was sure to be the most logical to be blamed.

But instead your eyes never left Quinn “someone who thought his morals were too good to fuck me.” The captain let his head drop as he realized that you had also heard the part where he tried to say no.

Somehow Trevor wasn’t disappointed to be shut down, instead he found himself comfortably on the pool table behind you “rest your pretty little head f’me doll.” Trevor mumbled spreading his legs to allow you to rest against him.

His fingers brushed over your collarbone as he smiled “Quinny you gonna fuck her or keep us both waiting?” The younger player couldn’t help but grumble still jealous that it wasn’t him between your legs.

Quinn tapped the pads of his fingertips over the insides of your thighs “been thinking about getting you like this since I met ya.” His confession made you blush as you remembered the day you picked up Jack’s FaceTime call from the older boy.

So you sent him a smile as he tapped your thigh motioning to you to push off of your hips making his cock throb against his boxers at the way you were so responsive to him. It took him a moment to hook his fingers into the bottoms of your swimsuit as he sucked in his breath, watching in awe at how your panties slid off of your legs “you’re such a pretty fucking girl.” Quinn murmured to himself as he pressed his hands on the table to stop you from shutting your legs.

He kissed up your skin, making sure to not miss a spot in his efforts to spread his love equally between your two legs “please.” Your voice drew a shaky whimper “since you asked so nicely.” The captain smirked, dropping his face down to meet your cunt.

His tongue was rough against your slit “shit!” You gasped pushing back against Trevor as your eyes fluttered feeling the new sensation

It made him smile as he watched your head look up to him “hi pretty girl.” Trevor mumbled as he cupped your cheek keeping you close as his lips hovered over yours.

He pressed a soft kiss against your lips wanting to keep your attention but as Quinn slotted his tongue into your cunt, it made you moan unintentionally giving Trevor the chance to slot his tongue between your lips. Quinn enjoyed how you tasted on his tongue letting his nose bump your clit occasionally to draw your eyes back to him “fuck Quinn!” You whimpered feeling the scruff of his beard against the inside of your thighs.

The captain practically treated you like you were his last meal, constantly sucking and licking as he replaced his tongue with his fingers letting the calloused skin stretch your cunt out. Quinn took the opportunity to watch you in awe “is this a good enough apology f’you?” He mumbled finally letting his tongue focus on your sensitive clit.

Your mind went foggy as you arched your back letting your ass press against Trevor’s boner that tried to push through his shorts “think Quinny boy asked you a question doll.” You could feel the younger boy’s warm breath against your neck as he ran his fingers up the sides of your chest.

His hands were rough as they found their place on the bikini top that did little to cover your breasts “since you won’t need this tonight.” Cockiness soaked his voice as the door air hit your hardening nipples, feeling the fabric that once covered them get pushed to the side.

Incoherent whimpers of apology felt from your lips as Trevor caught your breasts in between his fingers “s-so good.” You nodded feeling your fingers tug through Quinn’s locks that you had somehow convinced him not to cut coming into summer.

The new pain in his scalp made him grunt as the sensation traveled down to his cock, only making his tongue as his fingers move faster as he curved his fingers that thrusted into your cunt “I’m gonna.” You warned feeling your body grow tight as your toes curled when your eyes locked in on him.

Trevor’s antic’s only seemed to increase at that point rolling your sensitive peaks against his skin, bringing his lips down to suck at your ear lobe as he let his grunts echo on your ears.

You bit your lip as you squirmed, Quinn still attacking your clit in awe of the way you became a mess in his hands. As he tapped the pool table with two fingers from his free hand it seemed that he and Trevor had a secret language “he want’s you to make a mess on the table sweet girl.” Trevor’s mumble was all that you needed to finally reach your orgasm.

The walls around you absorbed the sounds of your cries and the way that you used each of your hands to each one boy close to you. Your body came crashing down from the high as if you had been brought to shore by a wave that knocked the wind out of your chest “lay off her for a second.” Trevor almost felt like he was getting protective over you as you struggled to regain your breathing with Quinn still lapping away at your cunt.

Quinn’s chin glistened from your juices and you couldn’t help but whimper using the remaining bits of your energy to lean forward to kiss him. Getting to taste your salty release on his tongue as it mixed with the array of drinks that he had been having through the day “fuck baby.” Quinn let out a grunt as he had to pull away from you just as you got into the kiss when his phone went off.

The contact that illuminated his screen was Josh and you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows at it “I need to take this.” Quinn sighed wanting to kill his friend as he saw the previous two miss calls from earlier in the day.

You nodded - not like you had much choice anyways - as he left the room, leaving you to breathe against Trevor “hi pretty girl.” Trevor laughed as he caught your grin.

He helped you sit up straight “you still with us?” His voice was soft seeing your eyes begin to grow heavy.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins, body coming down from what could have been drowning. Once not being able to even breathe but now sat trying to process all that had happened “of course I am.” You grumbled looking down to see your breasts still out of your bikini top.

His hands reached for the two parts of triangle fabric before he pulled them together covering your breasts when you yawned “okay we are getting you to bed.” You wanted to argue with him but Trevor instead pressed a kiss to your lips.

It was enough to silence you honestly in surprise of such a soft gesture “I promise I’ll make sure to fuck you tomorrow.” He offered making your cheeks go red as he helped you off of the table.

You sent him a sweet smile ignoring the way that your thighs pressed together as the alcohol in your head made your eyes go heavy “don’t fall asleep before I figure out how to take your makeup off.”

The memories of that night stayed in your mind even as you lay on the seat at the back of the boat letting the sun coat you skin in a gorgeous glow. Even as you pretended to be asleep, no slumber would be powerful enough to nullify the power the boy’s gaze had. It wasn’t the sun that cooked your body, it was instead the attention that they sent you.

Last night was painful for them both as they had to sort themselves out, yet the sight of you in that new bikini reminded them of the important message: this is a marathon, not a sprint. Yet still Trevor couldn’t help but jump off of his seat as the moment that Quinn killed the engine. The area they picked was quiet, in the years they went not a single person beyond the group in the boat had been seen.

That was partly the reason why they picked it today. The soft marks on your neck reminded them of the night before, and they both needed more “you know I can feel you watching right?” You blurted out feeling the sun that once shone on you, now partially blocked by a body that stood over you.

Trevor smirked as he clicked his tongue “should have given us a show then.” He winked watching you sit up straight to look at him “do my best ones with a bit more music than this.” Your words were intended to be playful but instead Trevor pulled his phone out of his pocket as he scrolled to a playlist.

You expected to hear the soft sounds of whatever rap music that was on his Spotify playlist, but instead it was your own picks in the yearly lake house mixtape you crafted. Quinn had joined the two of you in the back of the boat “don’t be a brat.” His hand tugged through his hair making you remember how it felt between your fingers just hours before.

The boys knew you were good but letting them watch you in nothing more than what seemed to be your tiniest bikini as you let your ass hang in there air “fuck pretty girl.” Trevor couldn’t help palm his cock through his pants locking eyes with you.

You licked your lips attempting to crawl to him in the most sultry manner possible “should I finally make you feel good?” You asked as you placed your hands on his knees, using the little upper body strength that you have to push yourself onto him.

The sight made the boys mouths water as you straddled the Ducks player’s thighs “think I should fuck you yet?” The question oozed from your lips as he whimper, feeling your hand close over his “please.” Trevor nodded wanting every inch of you in that moment.

Your lips were soft against his ear “you wanna join my show and put one on for Quinn?” You sucker at his lobe grinding your cunt against him as you pulled his hand out from his pants bringing it to your breast instead “oh shit.” The boy whined as he swore he felt your folds spread for his cock.

Quinn had no shame letting his shorts go halfway down his thighs. His cock was in his hands as he pumped himself “need to hear your words.” You cooed pushing into your knees as you let the flimsy material of your bikini top catch his eyes.

Your breasts looked perfect - they always do - but now that sight has his shorts ready to rip at the seam “use me doll.” Trevor forced the words out from his lips with a deep breath, trying to keep some once of strength.

His eyes locked with yours as you froze, checking that he was being serious “want your cunt all over my cock.” He begged making you catch your lower lip between your teeth.

You got up making his expression grow hurt “gotta take these off unless you plan on fucking me through them.” You pointed out and you swore that there was something in the air that made them both contemplate it for a second.

But as they watched your bikini bottoms drop to the ground they realized what it was all truth “fuck Y/n please.” Trevor tugged his shorts down finally letting his cock hit his pelvic bone “you are so responsive.” You grinned letting your ass meet his cock.

He hissed at the feeling of you dragging his cock over your slit before you sunk down on it. You had opted to sit facing away from him so that you could have a similar effect on Quinn too “shit baby.” Trevor watched your legs spread on either side on the boat bench before you began to push off of his cock.

The movements were ones that the two of you quickly fell into letting him help you out as your walls hugged his cock letting him guide the pace “this pussy is heaven.” Trevor announced making Quinn grow jealous.

He had seen you first, so you were meant to be his. But somehow you were sat making Trevor feel good “wanna suck your cock.” You blurted out snapping your head to Quinn who nodded.

The boy tucked himself back into his shorts as he got up, paying little attention to the sounds of your skin slapping against Trevor’s lap. Your legs tucked to the sides, trying to make it easier for you to bounce as his cock grazed your sweet spot.

Trevor was feeling awfully possessive as his fingers dug into your sides taking charge of the thrusts pace “can’t have you move.” He gritted as you leaned forward to kiss Quinn, forcing Trevor to elongate his thrusts in order to feel your cunt in its entirety.

Quinn’s lips were rough against yours as you let your hand trail down to his waistband, tugging them down to his sides “you poor guy.” You clicked your tongue as you went to wrap your hand around his cock.

But Trevor lay a hard slap to your ass that made you jump “behave before we make sure to fuck you like the real whore that you are.” He warned tugging at the bow of your bikini letting the material fall from your breasts again “sorry Quinny.” You apologized batting your eyelashes at him as he smiled.

The older boy ran his fingers through your hair “think you know how to make it up to me.” He nodded as you dropped your head “cause you don’t get to cum until you’ve finished him off in your mouth.” Trevor’s words were meant to make you freeze with fear, but instead you took it as a challenge.

Your tongue ran over the underside of his cock as your eyes locked with Quinn’s “fuck it’s like she wants to be treated like a slut.” The Hughes boy grunted as he tugged his fingers through your hair.

Quinn was big in your mouth, his cock was hitting the back of your throat as he refused to let you even think about teasing him. Your eyes fluttered as they got into a rhythm. For every time that Trevor thrusted deeper into your cunt, Quinn would pull back.

Only for them to then switch roles “wonder what Jack would think seeing his best friend between us?” Trevor asked as he let his hand travel down your clit.

A moan let your lips when your cunt clenched around his cock, at the feeling of his fingers against your sensitive nub “think she likes the idea of being caught like that huh?” Quinn egged you on.

He let his head fall back when you tilted your head forward to take more of his cock in your mouth “this mouth was made to be fucked Jesus.” The captain let out a grunt as he felt your nails claw at this thighs attempting to help gain back some control.

Even with that you still gagged on his cock treating it like a drug that you needed so much more of, for each time Trevor’s cock hit your cunt deeper. For every time you swore you felt the ducks player in your brain, he seemed to push you that much further.

You were a moaning mess as your legs began to shake swearing that you felt a bruise form on your pelvis “aghhh.” Your saliva dripped down your chin as your cunt clamped around Trevor.

At that point Quinn was doing all of the work fucking your throat “fuck you are gonna make me cum.” He tugged at your hair making you moan as he felt his cock throb against your tongue.

Trevor was doing everything that he could to not coat the walls of your cunt as you clenched around him “play with her tits.” He knew you weren’t going to last long as your cunt gushed around him “she fucking loves it.” He added with a smirk as you whimpered, forcing your thighs closer together as the thought of them taking about you like you weren’t there made you squirm.

His hands were rough against your breasts and that combined with the feeling against your clit and how Trevors cock was practically in your stomach at this point, was too much for you. Tears flooded your waterline as your body thrashed against them.

Quinn felt his orgasm quickly approach as your throat tightened around his cock finally sending him over the edge “shit doll.” Quinn’s thrusts grew inconsistent as he pressed his fingers into the back of your scalp as he “fuck you are gonna make me cum.” He tugged at your hair making you moan as he felt his cock throb against your tongue.

So it seemed that one tug of your nipples was enough to finally let Quinn shoot his release into your mouth, sure to not waste a drop of it. Your nose was pressed against his skin as he caught his breath thrusting once or twice more. Certain that his cock was milked dry before he pulled out “holy shit.” As the captain fought to regain his breath again it sent Trevor into overdrive.

His pace grew animal hearing the grunt that left Quinn’s lips as he watched you swallow his release as if it was nothing “shit Z.” You whimper letting your own fingers tug at your breasts when you were spun around to face Trevor.

The boy was desperate to watch you cum “a deal is a deal pretty thing so go make a mess on my cock.” Was all you needed to hear to fall against him “fuck Trevor!” Your teeth sunk into his shoulder to muffle your moans when your walls clenched around his cock.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt his release mark up your walls when he planted your hips against his to try to stop you from squirming anymore “holy shit.” You gasped as your chest heaved trying to process the black specs that were still in your vision.

They laughed watching Trevor reach behind you to do up your bikini top when they heard the sound of a boat engine “it seems we might have some company.” And with that you were back on the boat bench with a towel wrapped around your hips as you waited for a chance to put your bottoms back on.

The boys thought that the timing of the other boat was horrible, but you were just glad that you had came before it decided to.

You walked back to the house from the dock in Trevor’s shirt as you laughed priding it now as your own. Quinn watched the younger boy almost chase you up the grass making you squeal like you were going to lose, even as the hockey player had the cooler in his hands “guys.” You were quick to freeze the moment you realized that the front door was left wide open.

Trevor took the chance to bump into you as he grinned “told you I would get my shirt back.” He smirked until his eyes followed yours bringing up similar questions “nice to see someone finally show up.” Josh teased as he locked eyes with you.

This wasn’t the first trip you had met him on and your cheeks grew a soft tint of red when he looked down realizing that he had walked into a rather interesting dynamic “the three of us were just on the boat.” You explained bringing your hair in front of your neck to cover where Trevor had his hands on your throat “hey guys.” You and Trevor did little to hide your glares at Quinn as the eldest Hughes boy walked up.

Quinn awkwardly smiled looking towards his friends for any kind of help “was gonna tell you two last night but then you went to bed early.” He shrugged making the mental note to apologize to you after on in the day.

That was all hours ago and now it seemed that the plans of the summer of sex were now nothing more than a fun memory. You couldn’t sleep properly in the now fuller house so as you saw the time was three a.m, you opted for a midnight snack. It was a common occurrence for you as you continued to curse the creaky floorboards that sat beneath your feet.

Quinn had heard it as he too struggled to sleep with the sounds of Josh’s snores now coming from next to him “you really did fuck me over buddy.” Quinn sighed as he raked his fingers through his hair wanting to be mad at the boys for how their arrival was indeed a giant cock block. Quinn had tried convincing them to come at least a day or two after their proposed date, but the requests clearly fell onto deaf ears.

In the kitchen you stood with a bowl of fruits that you were grateful you cut up the day before. The mix of mango and watermelon was tasty on your tongue as you cracked open a white claw, figuring that you might as well give yourself the time to relax properly “you got room f’one more?” Quinn asked as he walked down the stairs to see you comfortably situated against the counter.

Your eyes sharpened as he continued his walk towards you “depends.” You sighed putting another mango cube into your mouth “your friends gonna come down and decide that they want some too?” The spite in your voice made it clear to him that you were still so beyond annoyed that he had done that to the two of you.

It made the captain scoff “look I didn’t ask for them to come early.” He shot back as he rolled his eyes “so don’t fucking bitch about it like it is my fault.” He warned you clearly not impressed by the new attitude you had.

However his words only seemed to light a fire beneath you “well what are you gonna do if I don’t stop being a brat?” Your words were curious as you bit into a piece of mango accidentally letting the juice of it slide down your chin and onto your t-shirt “because you aren’t really the kind of guy who is gonna fuck me back into my place.” You took a step closer to him as you reminded him of the game of never have I ever from last summer. When Quinn decided to let Jack and Trevor know that they were disgusting for having had slept with girls whilst everyone was under the roof of the house.

But this time something snapped in Quinn. His lips were quickly on yours as you swore you had never seen so much anger in his eyes “you think this is a fucking funny joke don’t ya?” The hockey player spat as he pushed you onto the counter where you placed the bowl behind you “hell you’re probably soaked at the thought of me fucking you for them all to hear.” He added pushing the sleep shirt you wore up to reveal the white panties you had beneath it.

He let out a grunt seeing the wet patch on them “why did you have to act like such a fucking brat if all you wanted was to be fucked?” The boy asked letting his two fingers collect your wetness as they made their way between your folds.

Your lips pressed together as you stopped yourself from letting out a moan, but that only made him more annoyed as he pushed through into your cunt “don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to speak already?” Quinn spat as he brought his hand to rest around your throat “n-no.” Tears formed in your eyes as you felt the skin of his palm graze over your clit.

Quinn felt his cock grow hard as he felt you clench around him “please.” You begged bringing your hips up to meet his fingers as you so badly needed more “use your words.” He instructed as he began to slow down his thrusts using it as a warning against you.

You shook your head as your fingers gripped at the edge of the counter “need your cock.” You blurted out making his fingers force themselves even deeper into the gummy walls of your cunt “think you deserve it?” He taunted bringing his lips dangerously close to yours.

The boy wondered if he was being too rough with you all of a sudden “just wanna cum on your cock.” You whined not having a care in the world for the concerns that had flashed across his face.

Those words made him tug your panties down over your feet as he let them form into a ball “would hate for the boys to hear ya.” He pointed out placing them into your mouth as he pulled you off of the counter.

Before you knew it, you were facing the staircase with your stomach against the counter as Quinn lined up his cock with your entrance. He took the time to spread his precum across your slit as you let out a muffled moan “fuck Z was right about how good this cunt is.” Quinn let out a grunt as he felt your walls quick to hug him.

Trevor knew he shouldn’t have chugged the whole bottle of water before bed, but somehow he did it and was now wide awake after going to pee. But what stopped him from ending back in his room was the fact that your door was wide open and you were now nowhere in sight.

It made his lips form a frown until he saw the low light creep up the stairs that came from the kitchen. He thought that you must have just been tired wanting a snack and he smirked to himself as he went to offer you some company.

The creaks of the floorboards made you whimper as your eyes went wide “fuck princess maybe someone is gonna walk in on you being such a slut.” Your cheeks were stained from your tears as the boy continued to let his hips snap into yours.

The idea of it happening made your cunt clench around him as he lay a slap on your ass “but maybe it’s what you wanted all of this time huh?” Quinn taunted you as a muffled moan left your lips letting your spit soak your panties.

Your heart pounded against your ribcage as you grew nervous seeing the feet walk down the steps as you swore that Quinn’s pace had somehow gotten quicker as he made bruised your pelvis consistently pressing against your g-spot “would you look at that.” Trevor smirked as he caught sight of Quinn fucking you. You looked like a mess, Quinn’s hand in your hair and your mouth stuffed with your own panties “honestly I am offended that you guys didn’t wake me up for this.” He pointed out as he walked down the remainder of the steps.

Trevor felt his cock grow hard as he was finally able to see the proper sight of how Quinn fucked your cunt “let me hear ya now then.” His words were soft as he pulled your panties from your mouth.

With that came a string of loose moans that had your entire body shaking “doll is he fucking you good?” Trevor quizzed as he gripped your chin between his fingers.

You whimpered with a nod as your lips formed a pout feeling his free hand reach down to rub at your clit “woulda fucked you too but it seems I’m too late to the party.” The ducks player faked being hurt as the view of your blown pupils were enough to make him feel better.

Your cunt squelched as the sounds of skin slapping echoed off of the walls around you “shit.” Your head fell forward as you rested it on Trevors shoulder feeling your eyes screw shut as each boy played apart in your pleasure.

The boys locked eyes with each other as they knew they shared the common goal of making you cum “squeezing me so tight I might lose my dick in it.” Quinn warned as he tugged his fingers through your hair letting out a grunt as he felt his cock throb when you clenched.

Trevor felt your tears soak his skin as he forced your face up to look at him “what’s got you all sad pretty girl?” He taunted you pressing his thumb into your clit harder when you whimpered.

You felt your eyes flutter as pleasure built in your stomach as your hands gripped at Trevors shoulders “just wanna cum so bad.” You confessed feeling that if you hadn’t been between the two of them that you would have been on the floor in a mess.

It made the boys moan in delight as they began to think about how needy you were “oh I think you know how to ask is better than that.” Trevor clicked his tongue as Quinn wanted to reach over to kill him, worried that he couldn’t handle much more of fucking you.

Your throat felt raw as Trevor used his free hand to wrap around hit “please let me cum.” You pleaded “just wanna feel so good on his cock.” Trevor looked to Quinn who nodded “go on pretty girl.” Trevor nodded finally giving you the green light.

The coil in your stomach broke as Trevor’s pace of his rough fingers against your clit didn’t let up, much like Quinn’s thrusts as he fucked you through your orgasm “shit shit shit!” You chanted the course of words as your body shook clenching around Quinn as it trigged his own orgasm.

His release sprayed up the walls of your cunt placing his mark on you too as they didn’t stop their actions until you went quiet. Quinn’s cock hit the inside of your thigh as he pulled out of you.

Trevor brushed your hair out of your thighs as he heard the sound of the floor creaking once more meaning that someone was awake.

As your adrenaline crashed your eyes went wide pushing the boys away from you as you pulled your shirt down over your ass “panties?” You asked forgetting which boy hand them.

Trevor pulled it out of his pocket as he tapped your ankle to help you put them on “now I might not be a genius, but unless we want a real audience I suggest we go to bed.” Trevor pointed out as you nodded feeling Quinns cum soak your panties as it pressed against your slit.

You nodded as the boys helped you back up the steps picking up on your shaky legs it left them needing to carry you up the stairs.

Watching them leave your room you were brought back to the decision that you knew you needed to make, only one of them could get you. Sure they could share for the summer, but you had a job in one of their cities.

The summer had gone by in the blink of an eye and now you were in his apartment getting ready for the first day of work “happy first day to me I guess.” You teased coming down from your high as you had woken up to him between your legs.

It was truly his favorite place to be “I am just making sure that your day is off to the best start.” He shrugged as he crawled through the sheet and let his face hover over yours as he let your release act like a badge of honor.

You rolled your eyes as you laughed “you’re such a goof.” You mumbled as you kissed his lips shaking your head.

He melted into it as he grinned “but I’m your goof.” Trevor reminded you as he pulled you into his arms letting you roll onto his stomach as he kissed your head.

You hoped that Anaheim would be just as good to you as he was.

[matchibee]

Go To Hell

I haven't written any fanfics in so long... consider this my official retirement from retirement!

In other news, i've been rewatching My Hero Academia, I feel the need to crank out some guilty pleasure ideas that've plagued my mind

please consider: Bakugo + Fake Dating, because I can (I will write this for more characters if literally one person asks)

"You're insane."

Never in your life did you think the time would come where you truly believed Katsuki Bakugo to have gone mad. For all his brutish, abrasive outbursts, this was the moment where you truly believed he'd taken a turn for the worst.

"Fuck off," Bakugo dismisses, clicking his tongue. You don't miss the way his gaze avoids your own, the way he seems to speak softer despite the attitude clawing at his throat.

You suddenly realize perhaps this isn't as far-fetched as you'd initially believed. You do your best to meet his gaze, your eyes flickering against his vermilion for only a moment. "Bakugo... You're not seriously taking me up on a joke, are you?"

"Hell no! That's such a dumb idea! Why would I ever fake being your boyfriend of all people!"

His words sting just a bit. You know good and well he doesn't mean it, this is just his personality, the way he deflects as to not let people into the intricacies of his mind. But you've been around the blonde long enough to know exactly what he means, even if he'll never outwardly say it.

You decide to have a bit of fun with it...

Exaggerating exasperation, you lean over the front of your desk. The summer sun glitters against your skin just right, its scorching heat a reminder that graduation is imminent.

"I suppose it's not the worst idea I've ever had... I could ask someone else... I don't wanna embarrass myself after hyping myself up to my aunt, after all..." You hum, tapping your finger against your chin, feigning as though you were surveying the room for options.

You begin listing off the names of potential bachelors. Todoroki, Sato, Kaminari, Sero, Iida...

Your mind settles on an individual in particular, one you know will leave the blonde's skin crawling in disgust.

"Think Midoriya would mind? He's a sweetheart, my family would adore-"

Bakugo responds quicker than your heart can beat.

"I'll do it."

"Do what?"

He clicks his tongue again. It's a habit you've grown to expect.

"I'll fake being your shitty boyfriend or whatever, just... Don't even think about asking that idiot..."

You seem to have struck a nerve, and while you should feel bad for manipulating Bakugo's ego, you know he wouldn't hesitate to do the same.

"Really!?" Your relief is palpable, like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. "You're amazing, Bakugo, I mean it! I didn't mean for the joke to hold so much meaning but I'm glad it's you!"

"But!" His sudden addition has you taken aback, there's no telling what he'll conjure in that wickedly clever mind of his. "I'm only doing this on one condition."

You fall back into your seat.

"Shoot."

"Why me?"

Out of everything he could've possibly asked, this surely wasn't something you'd considered.

"Why pick me first out of everyone here?"

You suddenly regret every word you'd uttered.

"Do you want my honest answer?"

Of course he did. From the moment the two of you had first grown acquainted your interactions had been built upon a mutual honesty. Bakugo wasn't one to shy away from speaking his mind, and when paired against someone with the same tendency for truthfulness, it was like a match made in heaven.

"You know me better than anyone, Bakugo. It wouldn't make sense for me to ask someone else, not when you're around."

He nods his head. That's all he needed to hear.

The blonde pinches your cheek, amused as you attempt to fight back. "Look at you being all sentimental and shit."

You push his hand away, his warmth like a campfire on an autumn evening. He smells of smoke and ash, the effects of this morning's practical still lingering on his skin.

In a moment of split-second decision making, he takes the hand you used to push him away into his own, fingers entangling as though designed to fit together perfectly. You remain this way for a minute, basking in the way it feels to be this innocently intimate.

"What are you-"

"If we're gonna do this, we might as well get acquainted with the proximity, right? Otherwise they'll see right through our act."

One thing about Bakugo, he'll never do anything half-assed. Any and every task will be given its all.

You do your best to keep the smile from creeping upon your lips, fighting the warmth rushing to your cheeks.

"When's the wedding?" He asks.

"We have a week to get our act together." You respond.

"Couldn't have made this any more last minute, huh?"

In truth, you liked it this way.

Your crush on Bakugo has plagued your mind since the beginning of your second year. At first you'd believed him to be nothing more than an egocentric asshole - not that it mattered much, he'd always treated you as an equal - but as time ticked on you grew to admire him; his drive, determined to vanquish any and all obstacles built before him. It was only natural you'd develop feelings for him. I mean, who hadn't right?

You've had your fair share of run-ins with his secret admirers, students from across the school who wanted a glimpse into the life of the student they both loved and feared.

You remember telling Bakugo about them, their questions, and the visceral reaction he'd had in response to the information.

"They ever corner you like that again, let me know, I'll send them to an early grave."

His words were the very reason you knew not to take this favor lightly. The imminent hero wouldn't willingly align himself with just anyone, regardless of its validity. He'd made a point to surround himself with the best of the best, including you.

"Think we can pull this off?"

You feel as though you've hallucinated the faintest smile on his face, Bakugo's thumb rubbing the back of your hand as though it was instinct.

"You wouldn't have asked me if you had any doubts."

[storiesofthev01d]

You Thought Wrong

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Fem Male Reader

Summary: The flirty waiter mistakes you for a woman. Might as well amuse them, no?

TW: none

Word Count: 1.9K

A/N~ Testing is OVER. And I way overthought this. Apologies for the messy writing, it's not proofread, and I might've gotten a bit lazy with the writing at points. Thank you for reading!!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You had been apart of this strange crew for... about a week now, you'd like to say. They had offered you a place alongside them when they had crashed into the tiny island you had always called home. The captain, Luffy, had seemed to watch you throughout that day, the idea of you joining him solidifying when he saw you sitting at a campfire, ukulele in hand and children surrounding for the stories and songs you were known for. You kept a simple beat as you told of pirates who had traveled both land and sea, watching the expressions of the young beings. You loved seeing so many different views on the stories you told- some fearful, some in awe. They were curious and wary as you grinned in the firelight, your hands moving dramatically and the story moving like a fast paced river. In the corner of your eye you could see the Strawhat pirates, the way some of them watched you. A slight shiver coursed through you, feeling as if you were being... judged. Considered.

So now here you sat. At a table at what must be the fanciest restaurant you've ever been to, your uke strung across your front like a sidebag. The casual chatter yet obvious high-class amongst the crowded eatery easily made you and your crew feel out of place. But nobody else of your party seemed to mind, which was a tad comforting.

You sat in between Nami and Usopp. While she and Zoro were quiet, Usopp and Luffy definetly weren't.

"No, no, I'm *telling* you. The flags gotta be something scarier!"

"Our flags plenty scary! And it represents *us-*"

The two's bickering was quickly hushed by a swift crash of two men falling to the floor, their eyes darting over to see a man of blonde standing casually above the two, tray still in hand as he regained himself a split moment.

"No cause for alarm, folks. Please enjoy your meals."

Luffy looked back at Usopp, that signature smile of his as his eyes danced with a certain light that hinted of promise. "Good fighter."

You watched with a slightly surprised quiet as the waiter approaches, the fork your were boredly fidgeting with now still in your hand.

"Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than our ambiance is our food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" The waiter's- Sanji's- voice spoke with a barely noticeable huff, as if already tired of the day despite the smooth smile that played his lips.

Your captain gave a quick, 'one of everything, please!' and your initial surprise of the moment was disregarded, turning the fork in your hand once more as your friends ordered. The waiter, though, seemed much more than your common server. His attention was soon turned to Nami who sat beside you, flirting and giving over-the-top offers much unlike how he treated the rest of the crew.

"-something sweet for someone sweet," The man smiled, and you turned away to give a badly disguised laugh as a cough. Sanji's eyes flicked over to you, still holding that flirty smile as you bit back your amusement at the waiters' flirting.

"Ah, and of course, you as well, ma'am," he spoke politely, though you could hear the subtle hint of confusion at the last word. Your lip twitched up as you recomposed yourself, also seeing the downplayed amusion of your crew noticing the waiter having though you were a woman.

'*Why not play on with this? Might get us a free meal,*' you bemused yourself, so you refrained from correcting him, rather shifting to look more feminine.

"I'll just take a water, thank you, doll," You hummed sweetly, your head resting on your hand propped up.

"Still, sparkling, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?" He returned, repeating what he had said for Nami. His eyes didn't leave yours, as if waiting for you to trip up in someway so he could so elegantly come to rescue.

Admittedly, you didn't know the difference. Not really. But the man seemed to type to appreciate a more 'refined women', so who were you to disappoint?

"Mineral, and without ice," You said after basically no consideration.

Sanji's eyes contained a faint spark of interest, his lip twitching up a moment before giving a small bow. "Right away, madam."

The crew fell quiet, watching the waiter walk away, before you felt their eyes on you. It didn't take long for everyone to dissolve to a fit of snickers.

"'Madam'?" Zoro teased with a rare smile while you faked a look of innocence.

"What? I can't enjoy a bit of flirting every now and then?" You spoke simply, jokingly twirling a piece of hair. You couldn't really blame Sanji for thinking you were a woman. Your hair had gotten quite long compared to how you usually have it- now a bit lower than your shoulders. Plus, you were always told you had that sort of confusing charm. Nobody could really tell what you were.

Nami playfully nudged you, a wide smile on her face as she glanced at the waiter coming back with the beverages. "That's actually so mean. I can't wait to see how it turns out."

The blonde reappeared then, balancing a tray on his hand with the ordered beverages, a soft smirk as if trying to prove he could treat a woman right. Which was obvious. You didn't know him much, but like- his *vibe*. Green flag right there.

"Drinks for the madams," he hummed, placing Nami's and your's water in front of you with a gentle bow, before adding, with slight distaste, "-and company."

▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎▪︎●•°○

You stiffled a groan on the boardwalk, holding your head and wondering where your crew was. Your mind felt fuzzy after taking that hit- you could take a punch, but wow, those fishmen weren't messing around-, having knocked you down for a good few seconds. Hopefully only a few seconds. Right?

You ignored the throbbing in your head and chest, forcing yourself to focus. Your crew.

Zoro was still... resting from that stupid cross with what you assumed was a bounty hunter, Mihawk, and Usopp was likely hiding. Nami had- betrayed you? The thought felt sour in your mind, as if lying to yourself, but no. You saw the tattoo. Plus, the scene infront of you didn't help her case either.

A bit away from you on the deck, you saw Luffy struggling in the grasp of the fishman, Arlong, holding him over the water. A sick grin rested on the larger person's face, his eyes dancing with a light of sick mischief as if already considered which ways he wanted to toy with your captain's life. Nami stood beside Arlong, her body and emotions controlled alike that of a soldiers.

You couldn't hear what their words, but whatever Nami said convinced the indigo-tinted creature to not brutally murder him his own way. Instead, he hold Luffy farther out to the water, before releasing him to the ocean below.

Your breath hitched as the salty water splashed on the wood of the deck, bubbles of air flicking up, but no Luffy.

The freezing temperature of the blue quickly grabbed your attention, all possible sounds muffled- or maybe that was just your panic. Seeing Luffy fall into the water pushed you into an automatic movement, throwing yourself in- not so elegantly- after him. Your arm hooked around his waist, failingly trying to convince yourself *'he'll be fine, he'll be fine, he'll be fine,*' even as you saw his eyes start to close and his breath fade, the stillness an eerie promise that stole your calm.

The break of air welcomed you as you pushed Luffy, then yourself, onto the pier with the help of Usopp pulling you up, only momentarily noticing the fact he seemed lighter. You were only focused on making sure the almost-drowned person was alright, fully ready to perform CPR if needed. You had shed your flannel, drying off Luffy even as he coughed up water and began to sit up on his own.

"You're a guy..?" You heard beside you, a small feeling of self-consciousness as you realized the person beside you. The chef from before, who had helped patch up Zoro, was currently soaking beside you. You blinked at him, realizing he must have aided in getting Luffy out if the water, which would explain why he felt lighter. Still, your bare chest now exposed felt off-putting, so you looked away and huffed out, "Does now seem the time for that?"

Sanji's eyes dashed away, an awkward apology on his tongue though interrupted from your captain.

"Where's...Nami?"

▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎▪︎●•°○○°•●▪︎▪︎●•°○

The repeated, soft clicks of your hand tapping your ukulele was one of the few sounds that could be heard beside the crashing of waves against the ship and the whistle of wind running through the sail. It was abnormally quiet for the crew, reflecting their confidence on their newest mission- to find Nami. You know your captain hoped to get her back, but your captain was... a bit too optimistic in your eyes, sometimes. Yet even he looked affected by Nami's betrayal. You could see him on the opposite side of the deck from where you sat, beside the chef, whom was currently leaning against the railing of the ship, awaiting a bite with a fishing pole in hand.

Briefly, you heard a small commotion of Zoro and the damned clown head you had to bring, for he was the only one who had any idea where Nami could be. The latter had begun to sing, though soon to be cut off with a soft 'thud' accompanied with the closing of a barrel, and quiet greeted the ship once more.

Eventually, the crew began to drift to their sleeping quarters, leaving yourself, the moon, and the stars. In your focus, at least. After a moment of consideration, you picked up a simple beat on the stringed instrument after only tapping the wooden body. You took a slow breath, choking on the air in surprise when you heard Sanji speak.

"You always try to surprise people when you first meet them?" The chef spoke, his eyes still on the sea, fishing pole still in hand. It seemed pointless at this point, with how long he'd been doing it and yet to get a bite, but you weren't one to talk.

Your fingers faltered on the strings, though continued after a moments hesitation. "I could say the same for you. Why, you thought I was pretty?" You tease, a small smile playing your lips as your eyes linger on the silky drifting of the moon hung so far in the sky.

A beat, then two. You take note of the chef's lack of response, glancing at him to watch the way he shifts on his feet. You weren't sure which way to take his silence, but then again, you were a bit too tired to care. You hum, before ending the quiet tune and sitting up with a small sigh.

"Well, then. Reckon we best get some sleep, then. It's certainly gonna be a day tomorrow."

[jjangwonie]

DOUBLE LIFE

DOUBLE LIFE MASTERLIST

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary: With your anonymous Twitter account, you've acquired a pretty good following and popularity, throughout your school as well. Jake, your long-time crush, is one of them, head over heels. Yet when you once confessed to him, he had rejected your confession, saying that he already has his eye on someone else. What happens when he finds out that his online crush is the person that he rejected? And... How are you going to deal with this?

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ word count: ~2k

jjangwonie note: first written ep!! I was a little busy the last days, so I wasn't updating as I was initially, but here it is! I decided to split this written ep in two, since it will be too long imo, but then it will be more to look out for, no? ;). I'd love to hear your opinions or speculations about the smau so far, I am having so much fun with this ^^

Important notice! for written eps, I will put the "previous|next" button on the bottom, so it's easier for you to reach 😁

ELEVEN - you look guilty as hell [written]

“Finally, you're out.” Riki's voice reaches your ears as if you couldn't hear his nags and whines through his text messages. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes, coming out of the girls bathroom.

You push through them and quickly empty your books into your locker, before swinging your bag over your shoulder and the four of you exit the main entrance of the building.

Sunoo huffs a breath out. "Imagine going in between the two buildings in one day." His eyes wander over the long pathway with many patches of nature between the two buildings. "I already am worn out from looking at it." His hands fly to his shaking head.

Jungwon chuckles. "It gets easier. And to be honest, it's a nice break from the cramped classes," he responds while putting his spectacles in its case.

"And an excuse for if you're late," you add with a hint of mischief. "Please. The amount of times I took my sweet ass time when I had Advanced Writing."

"Okay, nerd." Riki breathes out, earning a smack on the arm from you.

"Whatever." You stick your nose up.

"And while I was there, it gave me an excuse to search for my brother and ask for money. You know, the money that I used for your extra desserts?"

Your eyes land on Riki, who avoids your eyes purposefully. "What? Nah, don't know what you are talking about." Of course. Act all innocent all you want.

Sunoo locks your arms together. "Anyways. Excited for tonight? First time going out with the four of us like this, out and about and not getting tipsy in the park." He laughs. "The weather is pretty nice too."

And he is right. To be fair, the warmth of the descending sun touching your skin paired with the soft breeze is indeed nice and very calming.

Not for long, though.

That's when your brother calls out to you. You're met with Sunghoon waving you over, not very far from where you four are standing. But your eyes land on the figure beside him.

"No way," you mutter, eyes wide. And you're not the only one. Jake looks evenly surprised, lips seemingly still. Riki's eyes dart between you two sneakily while you approach. "Well, isn't this interesting?"

"Uhm. Excuse me... Jake?"

Though it is a quieter place, the music of the crowded school festival makes your voice barely heard. Jake turns around, before finding the source of the voice.

"Yeah? That's me."

His eyes looked so dreamy, and his pretty full lips were turned up in a friendly smile, making heat rise to your cheeks to the point of you wanting to run away right there and then.

"...Hi, I'm... well..." you fail to get out of your words.

"Yeah?"

No, you shouldn't leave now. Not when you already, finally, have his attention.

"Um, I have seen you during football practices, and around school."

That's a lie. It wasn't only those practices, and whenever you had to go over to the other building, at least, it didn't feel as casual to you as it might seem.

"I know this is really sudden, and you don't really know me, but... I think you're really cool and, I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime."

You can't even look in his eyes the moment those words fall out of your mouth.

It felt like an eternity before he said something. "Oh! I... Wow, I'm flattered. Really! But..."

Oh.

"I kinda have my eyes on somebody else right now... I hope you understand."

Oh... yeah, of course.

Although the heat in your cheeks doesn't falter, your heart feels like it fell all the way into the ground. As if this isn't the most embarrassing thing that could happen.

"Oh gosh, of course. I am so sorry for bothering you. This was a mistake." You let out an embarrassed chuckle.

"No, no, you didn't bother me at all. It was brave of you to-"

But you're already backing away. "I should go. Please forget that this happened. Sorry again!" you manage to squeeze out, before turning around and disappearing in the crowd.

"Wait, I didn't catch your...." But you're already gone. "...name."

Well, shit.

Sunghoon, oblivious to the tension, grinned.

"Jake, this is my little sister, y/n, and her friends..."

'Does he know? Does Hoon know? Does he even remember? That is stupid, why would he even remember?'

"...you know Riki already. This is Jungwon, right? And that is Sunoo- y/n? You there?"

Sunghoon snaps his fingers in your face, finally making you lift your head to face Jake. He looks as shocked, maybe even more than you.

'No, he does remember, doesn't he?'

"Hi, nice to meet you, Jake." Which comes out as barely a whisper.

Jake is not doing all well either, his eyes darting between you and Sunghoon.

'That's that girl from the other day who asked me out. So her name is y/n... Wait no, she's Sunghoon's sister...'

'She is Sunghoon's little sister.'

'I rejected Sunghoon's little sister.'

'Oh, yeah I'm fucked.'

"Uh hi!" he sounds out hurriedly. "Yeah, nice to finally meet you in person, y/n. And nice to meet you all." Jake plays with the back of his hair. Your brain is setting off alarms, telling you to go away, to cancel this, before something embarrassing happens again. But you can't.

'This is going to be a disaster. How am I going to hang with him in this setting while he is talking real flirty with me on Twitter? What if he decides to text her? What do I do?'

"Earth to y/n," Sunghoon's voice cut through your thoughts. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Riki snickers. "Maybe she's just starstruck meeting Jake," he teases, earning a sharp elbow from Jungwon.

You shake your head. "I am fine, Hoon. Let's go. Don't wanna be late." You take fast strides forward, dragging Sunoo along with you, the others falling into pace with you.

Even though the walk through the city was dead silent, it surprisingly, luckily, went by pretty fast.

As you step into the pub, the warm, lively atmosphere washes over you, a stark contrast to the tense silence of the walk. The air hummed with chatter and the clinking of glasses, while the scent of beer and pub food wafts around you.

You guys walk around and find Jay and Heeseung who were engrossed in their pre-performance rituals. Jay was hunched over his guitar, fingers dancing across the strings as he fine-tuned each note. Heeseung, meanwhile, was running through vocal exercises, his rich voice barely audible over the pub's ambient noise.

The moment Jay spotted you, his face lit up with a broad grin.

"y/n!" he exclaimed, enveloping you in a warm hug. "It's been too long!" As Jay releases you and moves to greet the others, Heeseung approaches, a charismatic smile on his face.

"Well, well," he says, his eyes twinkling as they meet yours. "If it isn't the lovely y/n. You're looking particularly pretty tonight. Did you dress up just for us?"

Before you could even process the compliment, let alone respond, Sunghoon is there, inserting himself between you with speed. "Hyung," Sunghoon warns. "What did I tell you about flirting with my sister?"

Heeseung raises his hands in mock surrender, but the mischievous glint never leaves his eyes. "Can't blame a guy for appreciating beauty when he sees it, can you?"

Sunghoon's eyes narrowed. "I can and I will. Keep it up, and you might find yourself singing soprano tonight." He takes a broad, but humouristic stance.

"Alright, alright," Jay intervenes, still chuckling. "How about we get you all a table? We've got about twenty minutes before we need to set up for real."

As you all settle at a table with a pretty good view of the stage, your murmuring with the three boys comes to a halt when you turn to your brother.

"No. I only said yes to boba," He says sternly. "Oh, come on!" you whine. "Please?" you ask sweetly. He knows he can't win, so he complies with a sigh. "Fine. Non-alcoholic drinks for the four of you," he states while he stands up. Simultaneously, Jake stands up as well. "I-I'll help to bring everything back with you."

When they reach the bar and order the drinks, Jake tries to sound casual, leaning his arms over the bar, mirroring Sunghoon. "So... That's your little sister, huh?"

"Yeah. Why?" Sunghoon's eyebrow raises while watching the bartender making the drinks. "Oh, nothing! Just never seen her around before." But he fails at sounding nonchalant. "You haven't?" Sunghoon asks.

Jake turns his head to face his good friend. "I mean, I've seen her, but I didn't know she was your sister," he downplays. Sunghoon narrows his eyes, but not facing him yet, his eyes stuck on the drinks getting mixed. "Uh-huh. And why are you so interested all of a sudden?"

"Interested? What, no! It's just... she seems nice. Haha..." Jake straightens his back. When the bartender puts the drinks on the bar, Sunghoon finally turns to face Jake. "You're acting weird. What's going on? Jake, have you been hitting on my sister?" he asks suspiciously.

Jake waves his hands frantically. "No! No way! I would never! I mean, not that she's not great, but—"

Sunghoon sighs. "Look, Jake, I know you. If you're thinking of pulling your usual flirty routine—"

"I'm not! Promise! Scout's honor!" He puts his hands up. Sunghoon throws a look at Jake. "You were never a scout."

No, but I did reject your sister once... "What was that?"

"Nothing! I said... uh... your sister seems really... nice!"

Sunghoon narrows his eyes again while handing half of the drinks to Jake. "Uh-huh. Well, keep it that way. Nice and distant. Got it?" Jake nods in response. "Oh, and Jake?" Sunghoon smirks. "Yeah?"

"Stop sweating. You look guilty as hell."

That went really smoothly. Not like it went any better on your end...

"I'm done for. What do I do?" you mutter from behind your hands.

"Quick! Fake your own death!" Sunoo lets out while scooting closer to your seat. Riki deadpans over. "Great idea. I'll start writing your eulogy."

"Can we please be serious for one second?" Jungwon sighs and pries your hands from your face, urging you to sit up. "Serious? How can I be serious when my crush slash real-life rejector is talking to my brother?!"

Sunoo gasps. "Ooh! I've got it! We'll create a distraction. Riki, how fast can you learn to juggle?"

"About as fast as y/n can grow a few inches." He leans back and rolls his eyes. A glare is quickly sent his way. "I will end you, Riki."

You take a big breath before sitting straight. "What if Jake tells Sunghoon he rejected me?" Riki sits up and leans over the table this time. "Didn't he get really concerned when you were moping around?"

That is true. You never told your brother, but it was easily noticeable you were out of it for some time.

"Okay, let's think. Would Jake hyung even remember that it was you he rejected?" Jungwon taps on the back of his hand. "But what if he does? Hoon will kill him." You say up front, before pointing at yourself. "And then me."

"Ooh, murder mystery. That's another great distraction, great idea." Sunoo lets out, stuck in his own thoughts. Riki pats Sunoo's head sarcastically. "Sure, because adding homicide to the mix will definitely improve the situation, hyung."

Jungwon sighs and faces you, trying to find your eyes.

"Look, y/n, even if he remembers, I doubt he'd bring it up to your brother. It would be awkward for him too. And he definitely doesn't know about your Twitter... situation."

You groan and you're back behind your hands. "I'm doomed."

"There, there. Look on the bright side." Jungwon chimes in again and pats your back. You peek from behind your fingers. "What bright side?"

"...I'll let you know when I think of one."

"They're coming back! Quick, assume casual positions!" Sunoo whispers loudly as he sees Sunghoon and Jake walking back with the drinks.

Riki leans back in his chair, acting all cool and nonchalant. "Oh yes, this is how I always sit when I'm not worried about potential fratricide."

"I hate you all so much right now." You hiss back. "Love you too, shorty," Riki grinned, ducking as you swat at him.

Jungwon pats your back again. "Now smile and try not to look like you're planning an escape route."

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©jjangwonie 2024

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@dreamiestay @poohoon @j33mn @nshmrarki @ckline35

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[writing-cins]

𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐢𝐫 - Part 2

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairings: Alastor x female reader, Angel Dust x female reader (platonic) Summary: You tried to distract yourself on the dancefloor after Alastor caught you with Selena, but the memory still clings to your mind. Feeling both embarrassed and guilty, you find yourself at the bar again, reflecting on your complicated relationship with the Radio Demon while seeking advice from Angel. Warnings/Tags: female reader, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, drunk reader, reader is bisexual, jealous Alastor, comfort, deep talk with Angel Dust, frustrated reader, doctor Angel gives you advice Wordcount: 3.8k A/N: As promised, here is Part 2! I have to admit, though, that I made a slight change to the plan. While I initially said the story would be split into two parts, it has now expanded to three. I did this for the sake of the plot and to make you all squirm. Everyone who’s been tagged in this part will automatically be tagged in the next. If you aren’t part of the tag list for this story but want to be added, let me know in the comments! Part three will be online in September. Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

Masterlist

   You sat at the bar with another drink in your hands. It was your second since you left Alastor alone in the hallway and returned to the party. You had tried to enjoy the rest of the evening, danced and threw yourself into the music in a way that belied your inner turmoil but despite all the effort you couldn’t shake off the unease that’s been following you around ever since. The moment Alastor caught you and Selena making out replayed over and over again in your head, and you couldn’t even tell what was worse: that he was the one who caught you, or his extremely weird behavior towards you. It was obvious he was tense. He died in the 1930’s, so he probably found it extremely uncomfortable to be witness to such an intimate moment. But besides his discomfort he radiated something else you couldn’t quite decipher. He’s always been someone who liked to tease others and pushed their boundaries for his own amusement. Yet, this time, it felt different. Personal. Maybe it was just your twisted and lovestruck mind that made you see things that weren’t actually there but you could swear that he appeared bitter. Almost… jealous…?

   No. Alastor? Jealous? Never, you thought and let out a dismissive huff before taking another sip from your drink, this time a much larger one than before. Alastor kept everyone at a respectable distance, ensuring he never got too close to others, especially on a personal level. Alastor couldn’t be jealous. What a laughable idea. Yet, there was still that perplexing push and pull between you two – those fleeting moments of tenderness when he seemed to open up, his gaze lingering on you longer than usual, his touch almost soft and delicate. His words, laced with teasing, could be taken as either jokes or flirtations, only for him to push you away again an hour or a day later. It was depressing, nerve-wrecking and most of all, infuriating. Why did he always have to be such an enigma? Could it be that he didn’t understand his own feelings? Why was he so complicated, so emotionally incompetent, so… sadistic…?!

   You would’ve screamed if you weren’t surrounded by a huge crowd of dancing and laughing people. That goddamn Radio Demon left you a complete mess, and you couldn’t even tell if he did that on purpose or if he was just oblivious. He was unpredictable and that made it even harder for you to comprehend the situation and his odd reaction to finding you in a stranger’s embrace.

   A tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your thoughts, and you turned to see Angel, his face etched with concern as he looked at you.

   “Hey, toots, you’ve been away for quite some time and ya look anythin’ but happy. Is everythin’ alright?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together. His usual teasing tone was replaced by one that was soft and genuinely concerned.

   You forced a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yes, I’m fine… Just needed a drink,” you explained with a quick glance at the cocktail in your hands before you looked back at Angel who raised an eyebrow, not buying a single one of the words you just uttered. He shook his head and clicked his tongue repeatedly against the roof of his mouth, emitting a sound you barely registered.

   “You’ve always been a bad liar, toots,” he responded and wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders. “Come on, tell doctor Angel what’s wrong.”

   You snickered at his antics and shook your head in amusement, your hair brushing lightly against your skin. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for a familiar redhead with antlers and possibly the fluffiest ears in the entire Pride Ring, just to ensure he wasn’t within earshot. When you didn’t spot him, you let out a deep sigh, your smile fading to match the heaviness you felt inside. “Well, it’s just that–”

   “Wait, let me get a drink first!” Angel interrupted you and turned towards the barkeeper.

   You chuckled and shook your head again, rolling your eyes in the process. Barely a minute later, Angel Dust spun back around, now holding a maxi cocktail in one of his four hands, a wide grin spreading across his face, showing off the golden tooth in his upper front row.

   “What?”, he exhaled, noticing the way you stared at his drink. “I must be prepared for whatever ya ‘bout to tell me!”

   “You’re unbelievable…” you snickered with a wide grin, your heart feeling much lighter than just seconds before. It was a mystery how Angel managed to lift your spirits within seconds just by being himself, but you certainly couldn’t complain.

   “Well, come on. Spill!” Angel exclaimed with a flourish of his arms, almost knocking out another guest with his drink.

   Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for a brief moment before finally beginning to share your troubles with him, “You know, I met this girl today. Selena is her name.”

   “Ah, that dark-haired knockout, huh? I saw ya two getting pretty cozy on the dance floor,” Angel quipped with a mischievous grin, taking a playful sip from his cocktail. "Ya two were practically makin' out with your eyes! Can’t blame ya, though,” he added before you could continue your story. “If I was into chicks, I'd be all over that action myself. But you, darlin’ Y/N, sure know how to pick 'em!”

   “Angel!” you exclaimed with an aghast expression and jabbed him in the ribs with your elbow, feeling your cheeks flush with heat almost immediately.

   “Hey, don’t play coy with me. I know you way too well to fall for any of your lame excuses!”

   A sigh slipped from your lips as you took a few sips, your expression shifting to one of resignation. “You’re right,” you mumbled, twirling the straw with your finger while your gaze fixed on an invisible point in the distance. Finally, you admitted with a weak voice, “Honestly, that’s exactly where this story is headed…”

   “Now you’ve got me intrigued!” Angel chimed in with a mischievous grin. Despite sneaking a glance at him from the corner of your eye, you chose to ignore his playful curiosity.

   “Well, let’s just say we had a good time…” You continued nervously twirling the straw in your drink. “And before you ask, yes, we made out,” you added, glancing back at Angel and noticing his sly grin widening almost devilishly. “Right over there in the hallway!” You pointed toward the door leading to the dimly lit corridor separating the main floor from the bathrooms and outdoor area.

   Angel laughed suggestively. “I knew you had it in ya,” he teased you, nudging your side with his lower elbow two times. “Did you just kiss or did you also…”

   You immediately raised your hands and interrupted Angel with a harsh ‘No’ before he could finish his sentence.

   The spider demon let out a disappointed huff and raised his glass to his lips again.

   “Alastor caught us before anything could turn serious,” you deadpanned, your voice tinged with bitterness. While a deep shadow crossed your expression, and your cheeks flushed a bright red as the memory replayed, Angel choked on his drink. His eyes widened in surprise as he began to cough violently. He leaned forward, desperately pounding his chest fluff with his fists in a frantic attempt to dislodge the liquid from the wrong pipe. The commotion drew curious glances from those nearby, and you turned to face him, a mix of amusement and concern etched across your face. The scene was both entertaining and troubling, as you watched him struggle, trying not to burst into laughter while simultaneously wincing at the memory that had caused this reaction. The recollection hung over you like a heavy fog, each detail feeling as vivid and mortifying as the moment it occurred.

   Angel took a moment to steady himself, his breathing finally returning to normal. Once he felt composed, he raised his glass and took a long, deliberate sip from his cocktail, as though he hadn’t just nearly choked on it in a hilariously awkward fashion. With a wry smile, he remarked, “Damn, I can see why that’s a real mood killer.”

   “A mood killer?!” you retorted with disbelief, squeezing your eyebrows together. “That was absolutely embarrassing! The absolute most mortifying experience I’ve had in the last ten years! And now I can’t stop thinking about it…” The blush on your cheeks got even redder, almost rivalring the dancefloor’s RGB lights.

   Angel Dust placed a comforting hand on your arm. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it. Alastor’s a big boy. He can handle it. Besides, he's probably more upset about ya makin’ out with someone else than the actual scene.”

   You looked up at him, tilting your head before your eyes widened as his words sank in. Did Angel just confirm the very same assumption you dismissed only mere minutes ago? Unsure whether you understood him correctly, you asked, “What do you mean?”

   Angel rolled his eyes. “Oh, c’mon now, toots. It’s obvious ya have a crush on him and from what I’ve seen, he’s definitely got a thing for ya too. He’s just too much of a stick in the mud to admit it.”

   You held your breath, your heart skipping a beat, but instead of showing hope, you furrowed your brows. “And what makes you think that?”

   “It’s the way he looks at ya,” Angel said, raising an eyebrow. “He’s been starin’ at ya all night – and not just tonight, but for a while now. Ya seriously tellin’ me ya never noticed? His gaze is like daggers. Ya can’t miss it. Also, ya never noticed the way he handles ya? Caressin’ ya cheek like silk, toots. That guy’s all over you. And you never noticed?!”

   “No! I mean– yes! Urgh, I don’t know–,” you stumbled over your words, overwhelmed by Angel’s blunt confirmation, your inner turmoil, and that humiliating encounter in the hallway. “He’s sending mixed signals, Angel, and it’s driving me crazy!” you finally blurted out, hiding your flushed face behind your free hand. Slightly hunched forward like an embarrassed shrimp, you grabbed the straw of your drink with your lips and took a long sip, draining the glass almost completely except for a few ice cubes and the slices of lemon floating at the bottom.

   “He’s a jerk, Y/N. Probs in denial ‘cause of his o’ so scary reputation,” Angel said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes and pulled you into his chest. The proximity of your friend immediately eased your nerves, and after a moment, you lowered your hand, glaring up at the spider demon. Angel might come off as a bit of a clown, but he’s always been a good friend to you. He offered invaluable advice whenever you needed it and comforted you in a way no one else could.

   “And what do you suggest I should do?” you asked, a surge of sadness suddenly welling up inside of you.

   Angel noticed the change in your demeanor and hummed, the sound vibrating in his chest and soothing you like a purring cat. “I think it’s time for the both of ya to stop dancin’ around each other and get into some action.”

   “Funny…” you growled, disappointment lacing your voice, but Angel didn’t seem affected by your frustration. He simply sipped his drink nonchalantly.

   “Hey, I wasn’t jokin’, kitten,” he shot back, his eyes scanning the club as if searching for something. Spotting the lounge area, he grinned and added, “I’ve been watchin’ ya and Mister All-Creepy flirtin’ for what feels like forever. It’s gettin' unbearable. Not that I don’t enjoy the show, but seriously, why don’t ya just get a room already?”

   You followed Angel's gaze and immediately regretted it. There was Alastor, seated cross-legged on the same couch he’d occupied earlier, his smile tight and strained. He must’ve returned to his seat during your conversation with Angel.

   You bit your lip so hard it nearly drew blood, trying to calm the frantic pounding of your heart at the sight of him. Despite your discomfort, you kept your gaze fixed on him and exhaled a long, deep breath. “Because he’s fucking complicated,” you muttered, fidgeting with the straw of your empty drink, pushing the ice cubes and lemon slices back and forth.

   “We’re in hell,” Angel clarified, “Everything’s complicated.”

   “Yeah, but Alastor’s a whole other level of complicated,” you said, letting the words hang in the air. You lifted your glass, swallowed some ice cubes, and pulled out the lemon slices to munch on. After a moment of contemplation, you continued, “He seemed tense when he caught us. Acted really off – cracked jokes just to make me uncomfortable once Selena fled the scene.”

   “Sounds like somethin’ Smiles would do,” Angel shrugged.

   You huffed, frustration clear in your voice. “I know, but… either he’s been playing games with me, or maybe you’re onto something and he is jealous.”

   “What’s wrong with both?” Angel raised an eyebrow.

   You tilted your head, averting your gaze from Alastor and glancing at Angel. The spider demon, however, kept his eyes locked on the deer demon as he continued, “What I mean is, I’m pretty sure he’s been testin’ ya limits. Rilin’ ya up to distract himself from the betrayal he must’ve felt when he saw you and Selena together.”

   You just hummed, your mind occupied with a whirlwind of thoughts, your emotions running into complicated territory. After a moment of silence you asked, your voice filled with desperation, “Please just tell me what I’m supposed to do. I can’t just march up to him and lay it all out there like ‘Hey, Al, you know, I’m in love with you. Would be cool if you reciprocated my feelings.’” You roll your eyes, your voice tinged with sarcasm. “That sounds like a one-way ticket to heartbreak.”

   “I know this ain’t easy, toots. But sometimes ya gotta take a leap. If you’re tired of the games and the mixed signals, it’s time to confront it head-on. It might not fix everything, but at least you’ll get some answers.”

   “I’m pretty sure he'll reject me even if he might reciprocate my feelings. I mean, you know how he is.”

   “Then it’s his loss. He doesn’t deserve you if he can’t see your value.”

   You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, still unsure about this advice though deep down you knew that Angel was right and that there was no other way for you to get clarity than confronting Alastor head on. That smiling bastard definitely wouldn’t come at you first. He was way too… well, Alastor, for this.

   With a groan you buried your face in your hand, massaging your temples with your thumb and index. “Why me.. why him…? Why out of all of Hell’s denizens him, Angel…” you whined quietly, cursing yourself for falling for a sociopathic serial killer. This couldn’t end well. This wouldn’t end well. Yet, there was nothing else you could do. It was either jumping right into the cold water or getting burned alive by that damn uncertain feeling in your chest. “You know, I wanted him to come with us in hopes I could resolve things between us. Get closer and spend some time with him. But instead I didn’t give him any attention and made everything worse. What if he’s angry at me for dragging him here? What if– wha–”

   “Now you’re overthinkin’, toots,” Angel interrupted you and placed one of his hands on your head, slowly caressing your hair in a soothing manner. “The alcohol is makin’ ya emotional. Maybe ya should wait a few more days before ya talk to him,” he suggested with a soft voice, the motion of his hand in your hair calming you down a little, your breathing slowly got less ragged and more composed. “Let me make one thing clear,” Angel continued, stopping his petting of your head and instead lifting your chin with two of his furry fingers to make you look at him.

   You held your breath as you looked up at him, eyes gleaming with unshed tears, and waited for him to continue with a forced smile on your lips.

   “Al would’ve never agreed to join if he doesn’t care about you.”

   You stayed silent, only the bass of the loud music pulsing in your ears. He was right. Alastor was very stubborn and selfish. So the fact alone that you managed to convince him – which was surprisingly easy – had to mean something. Biting your lip you let your gaze return to the red demon in the back of the club, your eyes lingering on him for a moment in which you contemplated your next move. A deep breath, then you looked back at Angel. “I think I need to get some fresh air,” you said, your voice suddenly tinged with exhaustion.

   “Would ya like my company?” Angel asked but you shook your head.

   “No. I need a few minutes just for myself.”

   With that, you left Angel at the bar and made your way across the grand room, heading toward the very same door that led to the cursed hallway. As you weaved through the crowd, careful not to bump into anyone, the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. The unsettling sensation of being watched sent a shiver down your spine and you didn’t need to look up to know exactly whose gaze was following you. Ignoring his stare, you left the room and stepped into the outdoor area. The fresh breeze of Hell’s night air enveloped you with a soothing embrace. You took a deep breath, leaning against the wall and closing your eyes, allowing the calm of the night to settle over you. The music from the party was barely audible; only the deep bass vibrated through the closed door, a distant reminder of the revelry still going on inside, though the songs themselves were almost indecipherable.

   You didn’t know how long you'd been standing there, focusing on your breath and ignoring the few people around you, but a presence stepped into your field of vision and you looked up, your gaze meeting Selena who met you with a kind smile.

   “Hey,” she greeted you, breaking the comforting silence. “I’m really sorry for leaving you like that. It’s just… I was really embarrassed when he caught us and knowing he’s the Radio Demon made me very nervous and my flight instincts kicked in…” she explained herself with a soft voice, regret visible on her face as she met you with a weak but apologetic smile. “It was egoistic. I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

   You just shrugged your shoulders. “It’s okay,” you retorted genuinely, “I understand you. Alastor can be very intimidating. Especially if you don’t know him.” 

   Selena hummed and fell silent for a brief moment, before she continued, “I didn’t know you’re acquainted with him.” Her words sounded more like a question than a statement, and a slight hue of red spread across your cheeks. “I was confused that you know each other. I mean, he’s a much-feared overlord…”

   "Yeah, his reputation precedes him," you retorted, glancing at the door thoughtfully, as if he stood right behind it.

   Selena nodded, though her expression still held a hint of confusion.

   You continued, "We work together at the hotel. Honestly, he's not that bad once you get to know him personally."

   Selena raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"

   You nodded, a small smile forming. "He's actually quite the charming gentleman and can be really funny at times. If you don’t mind his… well, complicated personality."

   Another moment of silence lingered between you in which Selena visibly processed your words. Then she asked, with a curious tone, “Are you close?”

You turned your gaze back to her, caught off guard by her sudden questions. A heavy feeling tugged at your heart and twisted your insides, but you pushed the discomfort aside. For a few seconds, you pondered whether to reveal the complications you were having with Alastor, carefully weighing what information to share and what to keep to yourself. Though something told you that Selena might be trustworthy, you had only known her for a few hours. Maybe one day you'd open up more, but for tonight, it was better to keep things brief.

   “Let’s just say we are quite close, but it’s… complicated. He… well, he’s complicated. It’s something between a loose friendship and professional coworkership,” you explained, keeping the romantic details out of it. Even if you told Selena, you were not in the mood for additional advice. Angel Dust’s words had been helpful, but you still felt unsure and, to be honest, terrified about what to do next.

   You swallowed hard, your shoulders tensing as you recalled Angel Dust’s advice to talk to Alastor but avoid doing it today. He had said that the alcohol made you too emotional – which was true; everything felt more intense and overwhelming than it probably was. Yet, you worried you might not find the courage to confront him another day. You were already intoxicated, had embarrassed yourself in front of him, and were struggling with inner turmoil that left you frustrated and somewhat angry. Given all this, you sarcastically questioned what a little more heartbreak could possibly add.

   “You really care about him, huh?” Selena suddenly broke your train of thoughts and pulled you back into reality.

   Shit, you thought. Was it that obvious? Maybe you should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

   “Guess I do,” you responded with a deep sigh, giving in, and Selena’s eyes softened with understanding, as she offered you a heartwarming smile.

   “Well, he can consider himself lucky to have someone like you in his afterlife,” she retorted, her voice laced with genuine admiration. There was something reassuring in her words, a reflection of kindness that you hadn’t expected.

   “Thank you, Selena…” you said, your voice carrying a tone of heartfelt gratitude. “This really means a lot to me.”

   “Well, I think I’m heading home for tonight,” Selena changed the topic, her expression shifting to one of thoughtful weariness. “I’m pretty wasted and need a good amount of sleep to keep my hangover from being too brutal. You have my number, right?”

   You nodded, and Selena’s smile turned into a satisfied grin, as if she was pleased with the connection you had made.

   “Perfect. Just send me a text when you’re home,” she instructed, her tone friendly and casual. “We should definitely meet up again sometime. There’s a lovely little café not far from here that I think you’d enjoy. And if you ever need someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to reach out.” She gave you a reassuring wink before finishing her drink.

   You returned her smile and nodded. “Sounds great.”

   As Selena made her way out, you felt a small but comforting spark of hope. Maybe, despite the chaos of the night, you had found a new friend. And with that newfound strength, you decided it was time to step out of your shadow and confront Alastor. Better to do it tonight than to keep waiting. After all, you asked yourself again, what could a little more heartbreak possibly add to the drama?

Part three will (hopefully) be out in September October!

Everyone who’s been tagged in this part will automatically be tagged in the next. If you aren’t part of the tag list of this story but want to be added, let me know in the comments!

*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@diffidentphantom, @notsoaverageguy-1997, @the-autistic-moth, @n0tmentallystable, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @alastorsgirl48, @ratsematary, @night-lol, @divineknightmare, @musiclover059, @bitter-rabittt, @milkissesx, @florist-of-the-valley, @fantasyhopperhea

[justbelievinginmagic]

like a waltz⎯ part 5: aplomb. (pt.1)

pairing(s): ateez ot8 x fem!reader series summary: when 8 mysterious bachelors arrive to town and fall for your charms, will you be able to reach your goal to be prima ballerina or be dragged into a selfish waltz between love and obsession?glimpse: with swan lake’s end approaching, you gain more free time and notice the changes within your port town – and your relationships with the bachelors of ateez house. warnings/tags: inspired by Ateez’s Ice on my Teeth MV & Teasers, Mafia AU, Ballet AU, early 1900’s AU with some divergences in tech advancements (i.e rule of cool), 3rd person POV, use of YN, mxm, polyteez, MATURE topics, canon typical violence, canon typical gore, sugar daddy themes, unequal power dynamics, polyamory, exploitation in ballet, intimacy, Korean honorifics, controlling & obsessive tendencies, infatuation, stripping, gambling, mafia things, alcohol, smoking, kissing, possessiveness, jealousy, stalking, sexual themes but no smut, alcohol abuse, partying, pain, medical drug usage, traumatic injury, injuries, reader discretion advised & 18+ readers only! Let me know if I should tag anything else! word count: 30.2k previous chapter <- aplomb (pt. 2) -> next chapter series masterlist read on ao3! important note: hi! this part was too long for tumblr’s word count rules, so it has been split! please check out the rest of this part after reading this post, here! or you can read it uninterrupted via the ao3 link ;)

aplomb ; French pronunciation: [a·plomb], unwavering stability maintained during a vertical pose or movement OR self-confidence or assurance, especially when in a demanding situation.

It was snowing in Cromer. What had started as a light rain and cold chill had turned into snowflakes falling over the port city. The streets had grown icy and slippery. The weather’s wind was biting. People hurried to their next location with bundled coats and warm scarfs wrapped around themselves. Automobiles sped past – causing a brutal wind for those who couldn’t afford such luxury on the sidewalks.

The nearby docks were horrid to walk around, let alone work at. It was colder than anywhere else; the humid air felt sharp against bared skin. The water became slushy and turbulent with rising seasonal storms. But, in the storm, a new fleet of ships had made port in the docks. It wasn’t just one but many. All expensive with new-smelling wood, not made briny from the sea, and hulls absent of mussels or barnacles. Spotless. They towered over the fishing boats and trade ships of Cromer; they were larger than any docked vessel. All of them bore the same headlining name on their stern: Halazia.

The Halazia Utopia.

The Halazia Siren.

The Halazia Twilight.

The Halazia Illusion.

And, of course, the Halazia Aurora.

-

That night the snow whipped and whistled through the downtown with such force, that even some of the elite stayed huddled inside the grand foyer of the Cromer Opera House for hours after the performance. The boudoir wasn’t a saving grace either. The chill penetrated the gold-gilded walls and made the entire space feel like an ice box. Even with the heated floors activated by the Madame and the few wood-heaters they had burning, it was no contest to the chill. It was cold.

When her patrons joined her in the boudoir that night, they had immediately zeroed in on her attire. San and Wooyoung were men – they had initially enjoyed seeing the extra skin on their ballerina; it was the appeal of the ballet to many. But now, all they saw was goose-fleshed skin and too much of it. Rosy red in the warm-gold light of the boudoir, it made them frown and furrow their brows. San and Wooyoung had insisted YN changed immediately. Nylon tights and sleeves did little to keep someone warm.

“Oh, my honey,” San cooed concernedly at the sight of red flushed skin. He typically enjoyed the sight but only when it was from their affections not the cold.

Unlike usual, they huddled closer to her as she changed, almost shielding her from view as she wiggled and wormed her way out of her costume. San glanced aside when the nylon slipped down her form, baring herself for a moment.

“I’m okay, Sannie,” she reassured, tugging on her skirts and warmer layers once more.

Wooyoung tutted a bit with his tongue, but his eyes remained turned away, pouting at the way she reassured them. She shouldn’t have to. He wanted her warm and content.

When she assured them, she was decent, they both glanced her way, a boyish look on their faces making them look so soft and concerned. Perhaps it was the way their own skin blossomed with a faint blush beneath their eyes on the apples of their cheeks.

Like most of the ballerinas, she was trembling; her teeth chattered from the exposure of the cold. Even when properly dressed once more, she continued to shiver, pulling the fine dark jacket that WooSan gifted her weeks, no, more like months ago close to her form. At the sight of her shivering, Wooyoung manhandled her into their embrace before reaching out to tug San closer by his tie, hoping their two bulking forms would warm her faster.

They were warmer closer, but not by much. Her cheek rested against San’s lapel, and she shuddered as a chill climbed her back. San tutted softly, holding her and Wooyoung moved closer. He wished he was bigger, stronger, warmer so he could hold them closer and warm them up. Instead, he began the tedious task of unpinning her hair. Something he only just began to do – a sort of intimacy she didn’t know was intimate until he started one night as they sat and talked. The way he massaged her scalp was kind and unasked for; the way he carefully pulled away the pins so they didn’t pull at her hair. YN knew the warmth that bloomed in her chest was one of love and not actual heat from their forms.

The pins clinked onto the table as he continued his efforts. His hand occasionally rubbed her neck as she rested close to San’s chest. San was content with being a makeshift pillow for her; his hands went to rest on her waist, supporting her as they huddled close.

Glancing around the boudoir, he saw how few patrons lingered, seeking out the warmth of their automobiles or the lobby rather than rendezvousing with their ballerinas. He gritted his teeth as he noticed the lack of the highest-paying patrons.

“I can’t force you two to walk me home,” she whispered into San’s chest. Her breath fanned out in a visible puff. Hidden from her view, San pouted dramatically. “It’s too cold.” YN continued.

Wooyoung squeezed her neck, scoldingly, before her hair began to unravel from her bun, bit by bit. She could sense their disapproval by the way San hugged her closer and the intake of Wooyoung’s breath, critically.

They’d freeze, she worried. Walking all the way to her apartment and then back to the opposite side of town with this wind and ice? No way. She shook her head against him, mussing Wooyoung’s work carelessly.

“We are not going to let you walk out in weather like this,” San argued, his tone not harsh but firm.

“Can’t she just come home with us?” Wooyoung whined before warming his hands with his breath and rubbing his warmed skin over the visible skin of her neck.

“Captain said –” “I know. I know.”

They spoke over one another for a moment.

The chattering of her teeth was audible. Wooyoung pressed his lips to her neck before there was an interruption.

“YN,” it was a new voice in the conversation. A younger one.

Tiny rushed forward, looking smaller than ever as she curled into herself. The young ballerina buried herself in YN’s side, her face pressed against her hip (half-buried by the black coat she wore).

“Tabitha!” another youthful voice hissed nearby.

It was known to never interrupt a ballerina when she was with her patron. Patrons were first-and-foremost. Without them, the ballet and the ballerinas didn’t survive. But the little one was so cold and found comfort with YN, she ignored all rules (like always). Tiny hugged YN’s waist, hiding into the folds of her skirts.

A flush came to YN’s cheeks as she pulled away just enough to glance down at the girl hiding away in her extra fabric. San’s brows pursed while Wooyoung let out a soft chuckle.

“It’s cold,” Tiny exclaimed, voice muffled into her skirts.

“You have a little duckling huddling close to you,” Wooyoung teased.

“Always,” YN commented but she didn’t push the girl aside. Instead, her hand, still trembling from the chill, went to pet over the mussed hair of Tiny. “It is, Tiny. Do you have your sweater on under your coat? Your mother hasn’t arrived yet?”

Unlike the other girls, Tiny wasn’t of low status. She wasn’t rich but, her parents were secure enough that if Tiny had wished it, she could’ve been at an academy of sorts. Instead, she had fallen in love with the theatre. She reminded YN of herself. Except for the fact that Tiny’s mother wanted her to shine – and wasn’t exceptionally cruel or distant. She and her husband paid for the little one’s costumes rather than have her be in debt to the Madame. Her shoes weren’t worn ‘til they fell apart like the others. She had no need for abusive patrons; she had attentive parents.

Tiny shook her head into her waist with a ‘mhmh’. YN petted over her head again. She glanced over at Wooyoung and San who had taken an appropriate but not too far step away. San’s cheeks flushed as he looked over her and the young ballerina. Wooyoung’s smile was still large before he went to shed his own jacket.

“Here,” he offered it to YN, his gaze directed at the little girl.

She was quick to drape it over the younger and Wooyoung nearly cooed at how the little girl sagged in relief, hugging the warm fur-lined coat closer and closer. It consumed her with how small she was. His gaze returned to YN, warmly, despite the way the chill bit at him.

At Wooyoung’s actions, San adjusted his glasses before shrugging his own jacket off. She could see him suck in a breath at the cold and spotted the pebbling of his nipples through his vest even.

“Honey,” he instructed to her as he held his jacket out which she was quick to obey. With San’s body-warmed jacket over her shoulders, she finally stopped shuddering.

“Thank you, both of you.” She said softly. YN nudged Tiny with her hip lightly.

“Yes,” the word came out hissed still as the little one shivered on. “Thank you, Mr Kim… and Mr Kim.”

“You can call me Wooyo.” The younger of the men encouraged sweetly.

San couldn’t stifle the smile he leveled at Wooyoung’s head as he squatted just a bit as if to be on the child’s level. He knew how much Wooyoung loved children, wanted children. He suspected it had been because of guilt. He left the other street rats on Aurora while he moved onwards…and upwards.

“Mr. Wooyo,” Tiny murmured, bashful for the first time ever. She buried her face into Wooyoung’s jacket.

YN chuckled, squeezing the young ballerina close and waited for her parent to arrive to the boudoir’s doors. Wooyoung was quick to ask the little girl questions – if she liked dancing, if she was working hard, was YN her favorite unnie? – thank goodness that her mother arrived soon because San was sure he was close to adopting the sweet and sassy girl before long. When Wooyoung got his jacket back and Tiny was rushing back to her mother, YN shook off San’s jacket too.

“YN,” he scolded, brow firming into a scowl.

“I’m not letting you become a snowman, sweetheart.” YN argued back. “You’ve been a gentleman.” She praised.

His pout made her smile and she leaned in to capture his lips with hers. He grinned easily into it as he tugged her close, wrapping them both into his long coat.

“We should go now,” Wooyoung announced, adjusted his gloves and sleeves as he shrugged his jacket back on. “Before it gets worse – it looks like there has been a lull. More of the girls have sneaked out.”

“I agree,” she nodded.

Instead of waiting for her outside of the Opera House, San refused to let her out of his embrace, walking with her close to his chest as they navigated through the halls of the ornate building. She tried to whisper her arguments, mentioning that it wasn’t proper, that she’d meet them out front, that the Madame would scold her if she went through the main doors. They didn’t hear one word as they continue onward, passing the high society finding shelter from the storm in the lobby.

She could feel their beady eyes on her as they passed, rumors budding from freezing lips.

“Come on, honey,” San encouraged into her ear as he continued to lead her along.

His eyes were cold as they grazed over the judging audience. Soon enough, they were heaving open the grand opera house’s doors, letting a whirlwind of snow to blow in. 

On the steps of the opera house, the downtown looked like a winter hellscape. Not quite a blizzard, but definitely a powerful ice storm. San’s hand went to shield her head into his chest from the chill.

“Finally,” she heard a deep-voice whine out.

“Mingi,” Wooyoung’s voice crowed out, joyfully. “I could kiss you.”

San’s laughter made her head shake, rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Mingi’s here for you two?” she mumbled into his coat, trying to pull away to see for herself.

“For you,” San told her; she turned her head just enough to see Mingi and his fancy car radiating heat in the cold air.

The tall driver stood bundled up in jackets, fur icy with snow shards. He trembled a bit but had a large smile on his face as Wooyoung bounded towards him.

“Careful for the ice!” YN cried out, warningly.

Wooyoung was surprisingly slick, keeping his footing as he consumed Mingi in a hug. One that the other didn’t seem to dislike – he didn’t even shove him away. He laughed lightly and said something YN couldn’t quite make out over the snow fall.

San shifted his hold on her until he was partially holding her, her feet no longer touching the ground as he navigated the icy steps and cobblestone. She argued but he simply smiled as he made his way down the elevated steps. It wasn’t until they were in front of the car that her feet touched the cold stonework again.

“Hello, babydoll,” Mingi smiled over at her; Wooyoung firmly buried into his side, most likely to leech the warmth from the other. “Thought you’d need a lift tonight.”

“You’re a life-saver.” Her smile was like the sun, he swore. Addicting. He needed it. Her eyes blinked, and her brows pursed curiously a moment after – worry stealing her happiness. “Is it safe to drive right now?” she asked, dubiously. More concerned for him than herself.

San scoffed.

“Mingi’s the best driver out of us,” he promised as he nodded towards the door.

The tall driver’s chin rose up in pride at his friend’s words before he went to pull open the backseat’s door. The visible breath of the car’s heater kissed the air. San was quick to wiggle the pair of them in without little discussion. YN let out a small gasp of surprise; before she could even say anything, he squeezed her into a cuddle.

“Let’s go home; he’s here for you,” San insisted, shivering as the heat warmed his cheeks.

Wooyoung sat down in the front passenger seat, glancing over his shoulder at the bundled-up pair. Oh, he wished he could take a photograph of them. So cute. He sighed as the warm heaters heated his chilled nose.  

Mingi slid into the driver’s seat, the squelch of the leather against snow-wet slacks made her frown. Almost as if sensing her displeasure, he glanced back at her through his rearview mirror. Genuine brown eyes met hers and they shut in happy half-moons – even while he shivered.

“I’ll drop YN off first,” Mingi said flicking half-melting snow off of the freshly-polished leather seats.

Wooyoung whined a bit, wanting her to come home with them. But he was quickly shut up by a sharp look from Mingi.

“Thank you, Mingi.” She praised; her words were half muffled from San’s embrace.

The red flush of his ears wasn’t from the chill she deduced.

“No problem, doll. You warming up?”

San was like a big cat as he answered with a pleased hum for her, nodding and nuzzling her closer into his arms. Mingi chuckled at San, rolling his eyes. He wished he could’ve just stolen her away to the mansion and kept her safe and warm beside a fire. But Captain’s orders were Captain’s orders.

No outsiders without approval.

He got her safely home, and the three men watched longingly from their automobile as she hurried inside.

“I want her at the mansion,” Wooyoung mumbled to the two others.

“One day.” Mingi replied earnestly; he leaned forward to nudge his forehead against Wooyoung’s temple. Wooyoung leaned into it, turning to press his lips against Mingi’s cheek. “I know it. They’ll see. She’s different.”

Ever faithful, Mingi held onto the starry-eyed obsession he had for her. He imagined her doing the night-time routine he watched her do from the shadows of the streets, just in the warmth of the mansion. A bedroom she could decorate to her hearts content – maybe it’d be soft and lacey like the night gowns he got glimpses of on his nightly watches. The smell of her lingered in the now-hot car.

The storm raged on that night; the apartment shook and rumbled from the roaring wind. YN slept with her coat on, the distant smell of a tropical shore transporting her to a warmer climate in a warm embrace.

-

YN was surprised that the next tennis match was still held. A makeshift tent had covered the tennis court at the Cromer Sports Facility; the fabric heaved with the weight of the snow settling there. The workers seemed to constantly being eying it to make sure it wasn’t about to cave in.

San had made sure she was bundled up warmly, her dark jacket pinned up to her neck by a broach that was once on his breast-pocket. He even unwrapped his own scarf from his neck to fold and drape around her cozily. He hummed lightly at the sight.

“Thank you, San,” she thanked sweetly.

San’s smile was only for her, spreading wide like a content cat. He nuzzled his nose against hers fondly, uncaring of the public’s eyes on them as they sauntered on the steps of the sports facility.

“Of course, honey. Let’s go see Yeosang.” He pressed another kiss to her forehead. “This morning, he said you were the one thing he was looking forward to see today.”

They sat in their typical seats, in a private sort of box with the other seats near them blocked off. They had a perfect view of the court, the score, everything. She hadn’t taken notice of it before, thinking it was just how the rich paraded about. But after examining the other attendees, she noted it was different. They were different. A selection of extra chairs, plush and clean rather than the folding metallic chairs other attendees had, were around him and her. Six others seats to be exact.  

YN thought it was almost cruel to have the competition still. The air was cold, billowing in from the open sides of the tent. The tennis players were still wearing the typical uniform - shorts and short-sleeved tunics. She could see Yeosang’s goose-fleshed skin even from their far-away seats. She bit her lip in empathy. Yeosang didn’t give any other indication of the weather affecting his performance. He didn’t even shiver when his breath billowed out visibly like a dragon breathing out smoke. Ever professional, he glared down at the competitor, cruelly. As if he was some sort of ice prince.

“Why don’t they cancel the game?” she asked quietly to San as the game continued onwards. The grunts of the players filled the air as did the tennis ball thwacking against the tennis court repeatedly. Whenever the point was made a light bell was rung out in different tones for the different players.

San took a sip of his drink, swirling the liquid in his cup. It was surprising the alcohol hadn’t frozen over in the chill. His fur-coat was heavied over his white-button up’ed shoulders, something soft compared to his sharp features. His lips pursed as if weighing his words before speaking.

“Money,” San answered. “There were bets made for this match already.”

“Did you bet?” she asked.

He glanced over at her with a cocked brow. As if that was answer enough. And well, she knew better. He had pushed the idea of betting on her last time – promised he’d bet money for her, buy her anything she wanted with the winnings.

He definitely had money on Yeosang’s victory.

“A lot?” she clarified, brows raising.

His lips quirked at that, sharp as a razor blade. He looked over at Yeosang as he swung and hit the ball with a grunt.

“I trust Yeosangie’s skills.” He said simply.

“So, yes,” she chuckled.

San’s smile remained on his lips as he lifted her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles, holding her hand close for a moment before he tilted her hand to reveal the diamond bracelet on her wrist. His bracelet. He kissed it next.

“Yes.”

The game was relatively quick. It made her aware that perhaps Yeosang truly was that good and the other games were like a performance of sorts. A dance between the two athletes until Yeosang truly showed his power. Or maybe it was the chill – it had weakened the other competitor… but even Yeosang from the tropical temperatures of Aurora managed. Better than managed, Yeosang won.

The other competitor shivered and huffed in the cold air; Yeosang barely flinched. He slung his racket over his shoulder as soon as he scored the final point. A triumphant grin pierced his delicate features, proud. His gaze was quick to find out their booth and smile up at her and San, applauding him.

Folk walked onto the court, cheering, and patting him on the shoulder. Press, bundled up with their camera lights smoking and shattering as they took their photographs, crowded too close. The smell of burnt bulbs and cigarette smoke was choking even from how far San and YN stood. But Yeosang was always a good socialite, smiling politely and waving. He answered some questions with his calm tone, his breath a plume of warmth in the chill. His body heat even made a halo of steam radiate off him.

His gaze flashed back to them and she swore she saw a change in the light that gleamed there. A darkness, a frustration, something…

“Let’s head to his tent,” San encouraged, leaning in to speak over the chatter. “He’ll want to change into warmer clothes immediately.”

YN nodded in agreement, rising from her spot. Her own hands were aching from the chill with her lack of gloves. She wondered if Yeosang’s skin was frostbitten. She frowned at the thought. San took her hand in his, squeezing it purposefully before guiding them through the crowds of the rich and fanciful.

Yeosang’s private tent was the same one as before except for the addition of a stovetop, a roaring fire going to warm the space the best it could. It wasn’t much but it still made her sigh out in relief. She was glad he’d have this at least.

San let go of her hand, letting her huddle closer to the stovetop. He instead moved towards the locker, swinging it open after entering Yeosang’s code (one he knew easily somehow), and taking out the clothes she was sure Yeosang would be changing into. A coat, a pinstriped suit, dark sleek gloves. It wasn’t like the soft fabrics she saw him in at the mansion. It was sharp and tailored and sleek. Where was he headed after this? A press meeting perhaps?

He placed them on the nearby bench, close to the fire to warm them up.

“Are there any more games planned?” YN queried San.

“I think they’ll be cancelled after today; the snow is brutal here.”

Cromer was known for its hot summers and chilly winters, the extremes of both seasons. She knew Aurora, from Wooyoung’s descriptions, was often warm. Pleasant besides the occasional hurricane or tropical storm. They weren’t used the ice and chill – despite handling it remarkably well. But she supposed when someone was decked out in furs, they’d be warm.

“I hope so.” she admitted. “Yeosang doesn’t deserve to suffer like that again.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” She heard his delicate masculine voice chime out as the tent’s fabric rustled as he entered.

She noticed how Yeosang’s cheeks were flushed now that he was closer, the blush over his cheeks and nose complimented his reddish-brown hair. The glow of sweat rested on his forehead, gleaming in the firelight.

“Good work today, Sangie,” San approved from across the tent.

The tennis player raised a brow at the other before wiping his forehead with an Ateez-embroidered towel.

“It’s cold,” he said, deadpanned.

“You did a good job,” San continued to praise, voice softening sweetly.

There was a hint of annoyance on Yeosang’s face before he turned his attention back on YN.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he admitted. “I hope you weren’t too chilly.”

YN’s face was one of gentleness as her mouth dropped in shock. “No, no! I was worried about you. Even though you were fierce; I can’t imagine how cold you were -- are.” Her hand went to touch his arm as if to reassure him, but flinched as soon as her skin touched his. It was icy. Her brows rose in disbelief.

“Yeosang! Get changed; you are freezing.”

In a flash, she felt what San and Wooyoung felt when they bore witness to her shivering in the boudoir. She was debating even unbuckling her own coat to drape around him; he was so cold. But instead, she took a step to pass by him. She knew he’d have to remove his clothes to get changed. No respectful person would just change in front of their company – unless you were a part of the boudoir that is.

His hand, sharp and quick, twisted in her grasp to hold onto her wrist tightly, preventing her from leaving.

“Don’t go.”

It wasn’t a plea. It was a command.

“You have to change,” she insisted, her head snapping to look at Yeosang and, then, San.

They both held an air of nonchalance; San’s lips even smiled just a smidge. Didn’t they know it wasn’t proper? A man changing in front of a woman was scandalous. Her own cheeks began to heat up – and not from the nearby furnace. Yeosang’s eyes sought hers out, fiercely. His skin tingled where he held on tighter. Squeezing for her attention, he clung to his confidence as he met her gaze solidly.

“It’s only fair,” he said. “We’ve seen you.”

Her eyes widened at his words; slowly, his hand slipped from her wrist slowly, carefully as if she’d run off. Her mouth had dried up. Uncertainty. It wasn’t like she had a choice at the ballet. He had a choice… but here he was offering her it. It was intimacy. Fragility. Sharing something in confidence. An invasion of privacy. One that was stolen from her day-in and day-out in the boudoir.

Her heart raced at the thought – the idea that Yeosang hadn’t even seen her like that yet didn’t cross her mind as he took a step back.

San tilted his head as he watched Yeosang silently, approvingly. Almost prideful, but YN’s gaze was locked on the athlete. The tennis player’s eyes did not leave hers as he pulled his polo shirt up and over his head with ease. Bare skin was revealed, flushed rosy from the chill or maybe embarrassment or excitement? She didn’t know.

Sharp collarbones, chiseled muscles, flexing tendons. He was lean, muscular, fit as he was lithe. His shoulders tucked back, confidence growing in his eyes like a lit fire as he tossed the shirt aside. He paused, stomach tensing as she glanced over his form. He smirked just a bit, pride radiating from him as he turned to reach for the clothes laid out for him by San. His arms flexed, his back muscles tightening as he reached for a white undershirt. He fisted the fabric, glancing over at her before he moved to shift his sports’ shorts lower and lower. A peak of his V line taunted her before YN forcibly glanced away. Red-cheeked.

She didn’t want to be like those at the boudoir. She didn’t want to leer and take away their privacy. She respected Yeosang. She respected San and Wooyoung. She didn’t want that – just as they glanced away, so did she. Swallowing, her throat jumped.

The sound of fabric jostling against each other paused as he stopped in his motions. There was a fond smile on his lips now (invisible to her as she stayed looking away), sweet on his icy features. He glanced over at San and the other looked just as smitten.

“You are an angel sent from above, YN.” 

Yeosang chuckled lowly, his signature lilt, as he hastened to dress once more. She remained looking aside, rosy cheeked.

“A true lady,” San commended as he approached from aside. He came into her line of sight, a fond look over his face as he caught her waist in his grasp and tugged her into a sweet kiss. It wasn’t one of fire or licking passion, something sweeter. Like honey, it made her melt.

Yeosang’s hand slid over San’s hand, not yet touching YN at the small of her back, but she could feel the shift of pressure on her waist through San’s hand. Glancing over, Yeosang was now dressed, sharper than ever in a clean-cut suit. His hair was mussed from the quick change and she couldn’t help but raise a hand to shift it behind his ear, delicately.

“YN.” He breathed. “You surprise me again and again.”

“Isn’t she something?”

Yeosang looked at her like she was magnificent, worthy, and it made her heart burn. She licked her lips and she saw his attention shift there for a fraction of a moment. His fingers squeaked in his gloves as if he physically had to hold himself back.

“Shall we go on a date, Miss YN?” he prompted instead. Her mouth dropped at the increase of his confidence. His query happened while she was in another man’s arms at that! Bold and daring and almost cunning. Her eyes lit with curiosity.

“If you’d grant me the pleasure.”

San’s hand squeezed encouragingly, his gaze warm and happy on her facial features. He watched carefully with a pleased grin as he looked over at Yeosang who peered over her shoulder.

She, of course, agreed – to the bubbling excitement of San beside her who squeezed them both into a hot embrace quickly. He couldn’t be happier with the development. He reiterated to her quickly that Wooyoung would be even more pleased – saying that Wooyoung once followed after Yeosang because he wanted to be his friend so badly. All they wanted was their happiness – their shared happiness.

Her date with Yeosang was scheduled for the following weekend, if the weather permitted. She tried to query the location of the date out of him but all the socialite did was smile coyly and said good things come to those who waited. Diplomatically teasing her. YN daydreamed of garden walks and warm spring days beside the athlete in her fictionalized date-dream.

Unfortunately, the weather had only gotten worse as winter crept further into Cromer.

At the ballet the next morning, she realized how badly her joints ached; her muscles were cold and stiff as she stretched out. The floor of the boudoir was colder than ever, almost like she was sitting in a pile of snow. Huffing out, she was looking forward to the end of Swan Lake. All the ballerinas were. They all shivered and cursed the weather as they warmed up and dressed up in the boudoir.

“What do you think the next show will be, YN?” Tiny asked while she wiggled and waddled this way and that during her make up application.

Too young to properly apply it, the lone costumer, an apprentice, did so instead for the littlest of ballerinas. Tiny like always was a rebel. Rouge was rubbed on her cheeks roughly, as if punishing the little girl for her movements. YN gave the costumer a sharp look. They didn’t need to be so harsh.

“I’m not sure; Madame hasn’t hinted at anything. It won’t be Swan Lake… or anything by Tchaikovsky I bet.” YN commented as she gathered her hair from her neck to put into a tight bun

“So, no Sleeping Beauty,” one of the other girls pouted.

“Maybe we will do something like Romeo and Juliet!” Tiny beamed. “I love when it’s a romance!”

“Is that a tragedy?” the ballerina that shot down the girl’s hopes solidified it was a whack of her fresh ballet shoes against the cold floor, breaking its arch for a more comfortable dancing experience.

“They’re in love!” Tiny screeched indignantly.

“What about Coppélia?” Someone suggested. “It’s a love story.”

“No,” Tiny lamented; she shivered in disgust rather than the chill (she suspiciously had a new jacket around her shoulders YN noticed.) “It’s too weird. Dolls coming to life is scary. Plus, we’ve worn so much white – I don’t want to be a porcelain doll next.”

That made YN laugh. “So, a love story, not spooky, not a tragedy. That’ll be a hard find in ballet. Where’s the drama?”

“Life is full of drama,” the little one complained slumping down into the collar of her fluffy jacket.

“You are so young; you don’t know drama,” said the costumer, slapping the girl’s arm to get her to sit upright again. “Stop your wiggling.”

-

Another performance was a success; another evening of seeing her patrons. Wooyoung approached without San in tow. The confusion on her face made him coo out fondly.

“Hello, my swanette,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Hi Woo,” she greeted him with a blossoming smile despite the confusion. She trusted him to answer her. His grin only grew at his nickname. He nuzzled her cheek; warm breath sending goosebumps up her arms, hidden by their dark tropical-scented coat. He breathed her in – getting a gulp of a familiar cologne mixing with the uniqueness of her.

“Where’s San?” she asked.

“Caught up in business,” he sighed out, wrapping her in his embrace tighter.

His jacket was a pleasant mix of him and San’s colognes; he was warm to the touch and she couldn’t help herself from pushing her cheek further into his chest. He let her smiling pridefully as her head nudged underneath his jaw. He wrapped both arms around her in a bear hug, humming pleasantly. His eyes shut.

“What is business to you both?” she queried, half-muffled into his chest.

“This and that. He’s talking to Takahashi.”

Takahashi… he handled most of the factories in town; her own mother worked in one of his warehouses sewing on a new-electric sewing machine. She didn’t know they had factory agreements. Yeosang was a sportsman… she had assumed that’s where their business laid. Sports, betting, maybe even their patronage somehow benefitted them. Rich fueled the rich after all.

Their mansion didn’t imply factory-building, but she wasn’t so sure what would indicate it. Takahashi didn’t work in the factories – hell, he rarely visited them according to her mother. He was a distant owner, counting the coins her mother and the other seamstresses made for pennies on the gold piece.

Maybe Yunho could have a hand in factories. He was intimidating like a foreman YN thought.

“What of?” she couldn’t help but query.

Wooyoung squeezed her as he enjoyed her presence; he had missed last night’s performance and one night without her felt like an eternity now. His hand stroked over her head, fiddling with some of the pins. He didn’t know why he eagerly waited to pull each pin out of her bun; to hear her sigh in relief with the released tension. He liked bringing her comfort, liked her closeness, liked their intimacy.

“Something on behalf of Hongjoong,” he admitted before going to hoist her into his arms.

She gasped out at his daringness; his hands shifted to hold her close, lacking most respect. His fingers spread out under her thighs, although clothed by her skirts and layers.

“Bold, Mr. Wooyoung.” She commented, teasingly rather than outraged.  

“You like bold. You liked Yunho’s confidence you said. You liked Yeosangie’s, too,” he retorted, not sharply but quick. He leaned his neck forward as he shifted her weight. “I’m the boldest. San says you’ve been complaining about your joints; I’ll hold you so you’ll be pain free,” he argued.

“Uh, huh,” she replied unconvinced. It surprised her that they observed her so closely – was that why Yeosang pulled that stunt? To be seen as confident? He had been so respectful before. Not that she saw him as disrespectful – no, she just… was surprised.

“Shall I get you a new fur-lined coat? Or boots? Anything to keep you toasty? Maybe kisses?” Her first of the Ateez bachelors continued talking, teasing her.

Wooyoung smirked up at her before he pressed a daring kiss to her lips, hot and sweet. Her hands went to rest on his shoulders. His hair brushed over her knuckles; it was longer than ever, lightly wavy. She raised a finger to twist around a strand. He pulled back, their breath lingering together in a tango. Her eyes flickered over his features. His mole on his cheek tempted her and she gave in easily, leaning forward to press a kiss to the birthmark.

“My swanette is bold today,” he teased in return.

“What will you call me when Swan Lake is over?” she chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Wooyoung began to stride over to the nearby settee – the one that he and San had taken as their own. No other man would take it while the boudoir was open to visitors (if they knew what was good for them). He sat down and settled her across his lap, scandalous for public eye and normal within these walls.

YN enjoyed the closeness, their intimacy, his warmth. She didn’t try to move away. The fleeting glances of the other ballerinas felt like flies rather than bee stings. She didn’t care that they looked on nowadays.

“You’ll always be mine, my swanette,” Wooyoung commented, hand going pluck a stray white feather from her hair. “Even after Swan Lake.”

“I don’t doubt that,” she teased. He grinned up at her before going to press a kiss to the available skin of her neck, almost possessively. His teeth nibbled in a gentle bite. Nothing wild but enough that he felt her fingers curl around his suit jacket, a sharp smile came to his lips at her reaction.

“When the next show starts, I believe you’ll find something. You’re like that. I wonder what nickname you’ll come up with?” she hummed, fingers fiddling with his collar.

“Do you know what you’ll be dancing yet?” he inquired, pulling away from her skin.

“Not yet,” she admitted. “They keep it close to their chests; I think producers have a big say here.”

“Hmm,” he hummed. “Do you want something in particular?”

She fiddled with his hair and shook her head lightly. “Nothing too boring hopefully. And something with plenty of women roles. I want to make at least lead dancer.”

Auditions were always a daunting prospect – a mix of talent, luck, and nepotism surrounded the process.

“I know, YN,” he soothed. “Have you ever considered another company?”

There were few companies nearby; Cromer Opera House was most well-known in the area. Money ruled the world and most companies never had enough to perform for as long as Cromer did. Competitors would fade away after a season or two, but Cromer Opera House had been here for ages. It was just natural to gravitate towards the Cromer Opera House Company rather than leave town to find a ballet company she wasn’t privy to.

“No. I’ve only known this company; any other has failed in this town, and I can’t leave my ma without anyone,” she told him.

“Would you? If they were available?” he asked softly.

“Maybe. I’m not sure.” She admitted. “I wish I could just make the Madame see my potential. I swear she has it out for me.”

Wooyoung grimaced, sharing her gossip and her frustrations. He pouted in agreement before nuzzling at her jaw.

“It’ll work out.” He assured, pressing another kiss to her jaw. “Oh! I see Sannie.”

-

Yunho watched from afar, his gaze settling on the trio as they walked outside into the cold air. It seemed like she had begun to leave through the main doors now rather than sneak out the alleyway doors. Good, he thought. Mingi would be glad. He hated her wandering in the shadows.

The snow crunched between his boots as he leaned back against the brick wall of the bank; their tall stain-glassed windows were dark and dim so late into the night. His tongue passed over his diamond-inlayed teeth. He felt Mingi, peering out at them from the shadows of the alley. But he hadn’t been here initially for her (he argued internally). He was on business with Jongho; though the consigliere-in-training had hurried off after their meeting. Swearing it was also business related, he snuck into the opera house; Yunho doubted it was unless YN suddenly had become a business endeavor.

Maybe she had. Things that happened behind Hongjoong’s office doors weren’t shared with him – only Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and Jongho were allowed in that room or by invitation by the Captain only.

It almost made him chuckle into the night.

The chill wasn’t the only thing that bit at his bones as he watched her giggle under the affection of San and Wooyoung. San’s smile was a beacon of light in the dark, his joy undeniable and Yunho couldn’t help but let out a soft smile. It was an improvement; Hongjoong and Seonghwa would be happy.

His gaze settled back on her. She was the cause of such joy; was is selfish to ache for it too? He knew she was frightened of him even if she wore a brave mask. Yunho didn’t want her to wear a mask around him – ever. He wanted her like this, smiling, happy, jovial.

He yearned to be the reason she smiled so bright.

San caught his eye – ever aware, ever protective. He gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement when her head was turned, talking to Wooyoung excitedly about something.

“Ready to go?” Jongho queried, his voice close to his ear.

The older jumped, startled for once. Jongho giggled mischievously.

“When did you get here?” Yunho countered, shoving him playfully.

“I’ve been here,” Jongho teased.

“Did you enjoy her dancing?” Yunho retorted, raising a brow as he looked back at the youngest.

Jongho wore a face of indifference, childish as it was charming. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Yunho smirked, all intimidation and darkness and brooding melting away as he nudged his friend again.

“Uh-huh, I’m sure,” he teased. He’d bear the youngest’s secret – let him sneak off to look at the pretty dancer before he was allowed. Like a child with his hand in the cookie jar, he was being naughty – but Yunho, ever a good hyung, wouldn’t tattle. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You don’t want to go walk her home?” Jongho’s chin nudged towards the group, shivering as they spoke on the steps of the Opera House. “Swoop in and be the gentleman? Get her on your good side?”

Jongho was always a romantic at heart. Yunho saw the way he stared at YN longingly even if they barely knew one another. Him and Mingi were similar in that way. There was a rev of an engine; a familiar engine at that. Yunho let out a light huff of a chuckle. Out of a nearby side-street, Mingi drove their newest automobile car onto the main street.

“Mingi’s got it covered.”

Jongho smiled a conflicted smile. Yunho echoed it before slinging an arm around his neck to guide him towards the path home.

-

The next day YN didn’t have a morning practice; a rarity. She knew the upcoming closure of Swan Lake made their producers, choreographers, and Madame all busier. They had meetings and discussions behind closed doors; cancelling practices allowed them to do so in quiet with no ballerinas sneaking near to listen in on their conversations.

YN took them as a blessing. When she was younger, she’d do anything to be in that room, to know what show was next, how could she prepare the best for a certain potential role. But call it age or karma, she knew now that the world of dance wasn’t as simple as being the best dancer. Imara and Julia both remained on her mind – a yin and yang, the best-and-worst-case scenario of patrons. No, the ballet was more than just dancing.

Gathering her basket and her hat, a new fashionable cloche hat rather than something wide brimmed, she prepared herself to go to the market instead. Bundled up in her warmest layers, she didn’t wear her fancy jewelry out in public – instead they rested in a jewelry box in her bedroom under her pillow.

Walking to the market was quiet, the winter air whooshed and whirled snow about her feet. But as she approached the market, the crowds grew. It wasn’t like the pretty town center with their towering banks, bustling offices, bright theatres, and grand opera house. It was the original port’s epicenter with its salt-eaten brick and blue-green oxidized metal pipes. Children and women, men with canes and old top hats, horses and roaming dogs and cats, they all wandered, pushing past one another.

It wasn’t open and wide like the town center. The port’s downtown was boxed in, covered by a wooden tiled roof (some were gone from the snow fall), but it was still open air. There were all sorts of shops around the stalls of pungent meat, stinky fish, blocks of cheeses, and boxes of the last remaining un-canned vegetables. The scent of street food filled the air, warming it with its spices and garlic aromas; flames sizzled from their make-shift stovetops. There was a jewelry shop, a shop full of record players and radios, a high-fashion shop, an old theatre long-defunct, scatterings of warehouses of smaller trades, and the port house. Bustling with common-folk.

She weaved in and out the streets, dodging a passing carriage, still pulled by a horse. The cobblestone was uneven but familiar as she continued past table after table of craftsmen and salesmen.

“Miss YN,” a fisherman cried. “Any fish today?”

It was a familiar face – a fisherman she had bought from before who was kind and old. Her mother would often talk to him when they bought tiny fishes for stews. There were eyes staring at her – fish eyes that is. Big, glassy, and dead. All staring at her from the ice beds. It made her shiver.

“No, not today.” she declined politely, pausing in her step and moving out of traffic to talk to him. There weren’t that many fish available she noticed. “Good haul?” she made conversation.

The man made a face of uncertainty, weighing his options. “It was alright. The chill is brutal, sends most fish swimming. Port has some new rules, too.”

She smiled understandingly – a crinkle forming in between her brows. “It’s a bad storm,” she agreed. “New rules?”

“New fees.” He admitted with a click in his tone. “Frederickson needs to pad his pockets more.”

YN’s brows crinkled, remembering how Frederickson had just paid for Julia’s private room… Here he was charging more money to hard-working folk.

“I’m sorry,” she empathized. “I hope things get better. And that folk buy.”

The man tutted, after all she was one of the people not buying. He waved her off good-heartedly nonetheless. “Tell your mother hello.”

YN nodded pleasantly as she turned away to join the crowd once more. Figures pushed past her; a baby cried; dogs ran between legs. She felt eyes on her back, like that of the dead fish. Staring. Heavy. She glanced aside looking for the source. The crowd continued, not minding her pause in an ocean of people.

There was a smell of gardenias and pineapple. Soft distant, warm in such a cold climate. It made her blink, blink, turning to look the other way. She swore someone was staring at her. She knew the way a gaze felt on her like a flame’s warmth, like the sharpness of a diamond bracelet on her wrist, like the heaviness of a coat. Finally, amongst the crowd she spotted something familiar – a gleam of an anchor broach catching the sunlight, the fluffed bangs of a bulky figure, pursed lips as he caught her gaze for a moment before turning away.

Jongho was here… looking at her… and then he was gone.

-

Seonghwa watched from a second-floor window. His brow jerked as he saw Jongho, peering back at YN. The younger paused in his step before turning back on his path. Seonghwa tilted his head thoughtfully, glancing between the two of them. He couldn’t help the sneer of a smile that twitched on his lips. He watched as she paused and spoke to the fisherman. Her smile, oh so sweet and polite. She seemed to be everywhere now.

Pretty little bird.

Jongho looked back again. Seonghwa’s smile itched at the corner of his mouth.

“Mr. Park,” a man cleared his throat.

He spoke uncertain; trembling as he stuttered out in fright. Park Seonghwa was a frightening man, tall like a towering statue. His features were handsome, almost otherworldly with his handsomeness but what was more unearthly was the way he maintained composure. His lips were in a firm sneer, nose sharp like a statue’s; his eyes were dark even in sunlight. His leathered hands held onto a large brimmed hat, polite but firm.

“Are the facilities pleasing?” the man continued, tentatively.

Seonghwa glanced around the building. A majority of it had white sheets covering its interior, its once-polished glass lights were covered in a thin layer of dust, and the smell of mildew and ocean-air stank the place up - even here in the rafters. A sharp tongue darted over his upper lip prodding at his teeth.

“Let’s discuss it down in the office, shall we?” Seonghwa replied, turning on his heel and leading the way down a stairwell. 

-

YN always loved to look out over the crowd. She was used to the watchful gazes of Wooyoung and San; YN even loved to flash a wink their way when it was appropriate. But she never tired of looking over the crowd and seeing their reactions. While she loved the attention the stage provided, she liked to see the wonder, the emotion, the investment flicker on the audience’s faces. Even now so late into the performance’s run, she’d see a new face in the sea of many – sometimes with an open mouth in awe. It always filled her with pride, making her chin raise higher.

Tonight though, as she did a pirouette, she swore she saw a ghost. A figure standing near the entrances on the sides of the theatre. Not especially odd. Sometimes there were folk waiting to shuffle to his seat when there was a lull between scenes or simply standing to stretch their legs. Sometimes a mother had to soothe a babe in her arms by the doors as it cried and whined into its pacifier.

But tonight, she spotted something stranger: a so-called stranger that her bachelors knew of by name. Jongho. Kim Jongho, she supposed. His face was illuminated by casted light of the hot stage-lights. Sharp masculine features, softened by the darkness of the shadows he crept back into. She still saw him. Watching her, with a soft smile on his lips. Fond and kinder than she expected he wanted to reveal. He was far from Box #8. She wondered why he was so separate from the pair in their box; others had joined them before; why was it such a secret to watch her perform?

He was here to see her, right?

He checked his pocket watch before taking one last look at her and turning to leave.

She wanted to talk to him again… but how? The next musical cue made her leap towards the wings, her legs scissoring in the air elegantly.

-

“Who is Jongho?” YN asked San that night during intermission.

His hands rested on her waist, fiddling with the feathers that laid there, sewn by her careful hands. His thumbs prodded over the thread, fondly. At the mention of the illusive man, he grinned.

Like all of the other so-called bachelors, it was clear how much San adored them; the smile on his face one that she’d compare to a bunny. Almost giddy, excitable.

“He’s the baby,” he told her.

“I’ve heard,” she said chuckling at the immediate description as if Jongho was a young boy. Nothing about Jongho was boyish. He was bulky, firm, sturdy. Safe. In a different way than San.

San felt protective. Jongho was protection. A wall rather than a shield.

“Why do you ask, honey?” he asked, almost sympathetic to her curiosity. They spoke of him in front of her at the mansion. Perhaps she wanted to meet them… he knew she wanted to meet anyone they brought to the box. “He isn’t here tonight.”

That answered her own assumption – his visits were secret. Why? Why was he a secret? Should she keep that secret?

“I just—I met him.” she told San. “Before.”

The shield was lowered, and she saw surprise flicker over San’s face. Almost so serious she was flabbergasted by the shift of muscles on San’s face.

“You have?” he clarified, brows furrowing just a smidge.

“He knew my name,” she told him. “It was that night when I was scared while walking home. He saved me.”

There was a hiss of air passing through pearly teeth. A flicker of… anger? But it was quickly caught. A blink and she saw the sweet kitten of her Sannie once more rather than a lion. She wasn’t sure if San pouted on purpose, tempting her. He kept his lips pursed in thought. “We’ve talked about you.” He admitted.

“How much?”

San’s gaze was like an ocean’s. Consuming, roaring. “How much time do you have?” he teased.

“He knew me without meeting me.”

“Wooyoung can be… descriptive.”

Now that was something she believed. A part of her still wondered why he was near the opera house.

“Does he like the ballet?”

“He does; he’s just… is so busy.” San said.

“What does he do? Is he like you? You… do things for Hongjoong?”

“Talk to investors,” San revealed, his hands rubbed her hips soothingly. “Boring things. I dislike business.”

His pout was back on his handsome face. Did he know how pretty he looked when his lips pursed? She thought maybe he did because when she leaned in just a smidge, his lips quirked into a smile, triumphant. He leaned in to close the distant, capturing her lip-sticked lips into a soft kiss.

The chill faded with the warmth of his breath; his hands pulled her closer still. One of the girls in the boudoir giggled nearby. YN was growing too comfortable. She pulled away after another moment, eyes that had fallen shut flickering open to see him gazing down at her with warm brown eyes.

“I like being with you more,” he teased, nudging his forehead against hers like a cat would and pressing her into the vanity.

She smiled, nodding. The way he lingered so close reminded her of Jongho’s arms around her, pressing her into the pillar of the Opera House.

“So do you all just work for Hongjoong?” she redirected.

His pout pressed against her lips, on accident but he didn’t shift away to reply. He spoke low and close.

“Sort of. We all respect him.” he said. “He is a respectful man, a gentleman through and through. Jongho,” he paused, swallowing. “He is the youngest but he’s a pillar for us. He helped get the mansion prepared. He organizes the cars; he’s—like your Madame.”

She made a face. San laughed.

“Okay, okay, maybe more like a choreographer; that Madame is –“ he sucked in a breath through his teeth dramatically, as if bracing himself for a scolding. Like he’d be frightened of a retired ballerina-of-old. It made her chuckle, and his shoulders relaxed. “He helps plan things, keep things in running order. Without Jongho… we’d have our lifestyle, but it’d be different.”

She nodded thoughtfully as she wrapped her arms around San’s shoulders. He smiled into her affection, liking that she felt warm still – his jacket had found its way around her shoulders even if the dark fuzz could cling to her feathers. He didn’t care about some costume.

There was still one question that buzzed in her head.

“Why was he at the opera house that night, San?” she asked, fiddling with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Genuinely curious. He saw that and sighed.

“You’ll have to ask him. I didn’t know he’s even been to the opera yet.” 

He didn’t sound sweet anymore, but he tugged her close into a tight hug.

-

“The factory is under new management,” her mother lamented that evening. It was late by the time YN came home, after waving off Wooyoung from her doorstep. Her mother was still awake in the living room. A cup of warm milk was half-drunk, and her mother’s hands were knitting. Restless. Waiting for YN to return with a blast of winter air filling the apartment’s floor.

“What? By who?” YN exclaimed in surprise as she shook her jacket free of any fallen snow, water pooling on the hard-wood floors.

“A company named Hala…Hala… Halazia.” Her mother struggled to remember, her knitting needles clanking as she thought.

“Halazia?” she repeated.

“The Halazia Company.” Her mother sighed out. “They work in construction or materials, something like that – from what the girls told me.”

“What of Takahashi?” YN asked, brows furrowing and arms crossing over her chest.

“He sold it, said it clearly to us before the new owners walked in and surveyed the place!”

“Do you think everything will be okay at the factory?” YN asked, slowly.

Her mother’s factory had always been under the same owner and the same foreman. Was the manager still there? Were things still the same?

“I’m not sure,” her mother murmured.

YN bit her lip before approaching her mother to give her a reassuring rub of the shoulder. No words could make things better; she knew that. But her mother shifted to grab her daughter’s hand and squeezed it firmly, gaining her full attention.

“You stick with those men, you hear me?” her mother encouraged lowly. “If anything happened to me or my job…” she couldn’t imagine the struggle they’d face. They had already gone through hardship when sewing became a second-thought to consumers– when factories and stores replaced seamstresses.

Her mother was old-fashioned; she knew security was best secured with a husband. She hoped that these boys would be men and treat her daughter right rather than as entertainment. The pretty coat, the automobiles, the jewelry, the spare coins… it was all reassuring to her old heart. She even hoped that YN would be able to stop dancing.

Not that YN ever wanted to stop dancing before.

YN frowned. Not at her mother’s words – she did adore Wooyoung and San and the other men of Ateez House. But she worried. From that night onwards, she’d save her extra coins, any extra money, just in case. The new cloche hat she had bought recently taunted her from the hook on her door.

-

The streets were coated in a new fine layer of snow the next morning. YN had shivered awake, shuffling on her warmest clothes. Her trembling hadn’t stopped even by the time she shrugged on her fancy coat. The idea of walking through this chill made her want to climb back into bed, but the thought of the conversation she had with her mother the night before encouraged her. She had to work… she had to make that money, make purse.

As she grabbed her handbag and opened the door to the outside, she was greeted by a lurking shadow. A tall figure blocked the door way. Smoke trailed from his cigarette that he was ash-ing of into the snow.

“Oh Mr. Mingi,” she exclaimed, glancing up at the tall man.

Mingi suited up in fine expensive attire, his velveteen long-coat now sodden with snow. How long had he been waiting there? He trembled in the chill, long fingers discarding the cigarette at her arrival before his hands ducked to tuck into his pockets.

“Hello doll,” he greeted. “I thought you’d need a ride.”

Behind him was a different car that before, rumbling like a beast in the winter-time air. His cheeks were flushed pink and she suspected it wasn’t from the cold. He looked hopeful, almost mischievous in the snow.

“Oh, you came all this way for me?” she queried, flattered and blushing.

Mingi nodded; he took in the flush to her cheeks with pleasure, leaning on the door frame only for snow to shift from the old wooden frame and sprinkle down over their forms.

“Fuck! Baby!” he cried out, tugging her closer as if it’d save her from the wetness that now speckled her face.

She laughed out lightheartedly, charmed by his boyish nature.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry,” he pleaded, arms around her still.

“I’m fine,” she giggled out, swiping the slush away from her face and off of her fancy coat. He quickly let go of her, red-cheeked. “Are you alright?”

He let out a tut of a sound, almost offended. Him, a tough guy not alright from snow? … He wouldn’t admit the snow fall was a surprise or that it now chilled the front of his dark shirt.

“Yes,” he rumbled. He was trembling.

“You look cold,” she told him softly, concernedly. “Let’s go sit in the automobile and talk?”

He wouldn’t say no. He took her by the arm and led the way, opening the door for her once more, respectfully. He sat beside her in the driver’s seat soon enough.

“It’s so warm in here,” YN nearly moaned. “Why would you wait out there?” she told him, humming pleasantly in the blasting warmth of the car.

“I didn’t want you to walk by,” he told her honestly.

She snorted at the thought. “Like I’d ignore you? I know your cars anywhere now.” she grinned over at him.

“You wouldn’t?” he asked softly.

She shook her head. “I would’ve noticed you in an instant. But why are you out here waiting for me?”

A flicker of a thought passed her brain: did Wooyoung or San or even Yeosang send him? But the second thought of maybe he came on his own tumbled forward. He seemed sweet like that. After all, he had cared enough to trek to the Opera House the other night for them – unprompted.

“I thought it was cold out,” he said gently. “Too cold for a dame—a, a lady like you to walk so far.”

Scooting closer, his head ducked to the side as he looked at her. It was surprising how he managed to balance both this masculine energy – an intimidating look with how deep his voice mumbled and how tall his figure felt as he glanced her way and yet his actions reminded her of a pup. A boyish tinge to his words when he spoke to her, bashful and respectful. She knew he could be otherwise – remembering how he cursed out while talking with Wooyoung or even moments ago when ice fell down upon them.

Mingi’s dark eyes didn’t leave hers as he leaned on the car seat’s headrest, casualness dripping off him (or was that the snow?)

“That’s sweet of you,” she told him. “I can’t turn you away when you’ve come so far.”

“It’s no trouble at all, babydoll.”

The nickname was sweet, flirting even, but the way his eyes were didn’t feel like a cat-call. His hazel eyes were wide and calm; genuine.

He smiled that sweet smile once more and went to shift the car into gear. The car rumbled in the cold but continued onwards. The heat billowing from the air vents was so pleasant, she couldn’t help but warm her finger tips against the vents.

“This has been the most brutal storm I’ve seen hit Cromer,” she commented.

“Hm?” he raised a brow, glancing her way.

She couldn’t contain the way her eyes glanced up and down his form. He drove like he did before, casual but in control. One hand rested on the wheel and the other controlled the gear shift easily.

“Have you been to Cromer before?” she asked. “Did you arrive with Wooyoung and Sannie?”

He smirked, a chuckle in his chest. “I arrived before them,” he told her. “We made sure the house was ready.”

So, the house hadnt been used! Her eyebrows jumped in curiosity. “We? You and Jongho?”

“And Yun.”

That was awfully casual.

“Do you—pardon me, do you work for them?”

He laughed out at that, the sound bright and loud in the rumble of the automobile. His head threw itself back, his grin bright.

“No, babydoll,” he giggled out, actually giggled! He smiled her way. “I don’t work for them.”

“I’m sorry, I just assumed—”

“Because I picked you up?” he smiled jovially. He hummed. “I’d understand the misunderstanding.”

Her cheeks flushed from embarrassment but he simply clucked his tongue, a hand raising to pinch at a cheek casually. He cooed out a rumble, a growl of a giggle. She was precious. Precious!

“But no, I don’t work for Wooyoungie and Sannie. I’d say I work for Hongjoong,” he said simply. “If I had to say I worked for anyone… Which I don’t.”

“Hongjoong.” She repeated. It was less of a question and more of a breath. Another man connected to this mysterious man. She was growing more and more eager to meet the person that altered so many lives.

“He’s like my older brother,” he said. “Closer than blood.” He flexed his hands on the steering wheel, rings glinting a silver light in the morning sunshine.

“San said the same thing,” she said. “That you’re like family.”

“We respect him” he said simply.

He ached to include her in that grouping – even if he knew the implications. He’d keep her oblivious to that part of the family. San and Wooyoung had done a marvelous job so far. He wished he could join in – that’s why he had been inserting himself. Now that he was known to her, there was no harm driving her places. He liked feeling needed. In control.

“So, Kim Mingi,” she repeated. “Kim Wooyoung. Kim San. Kim Hongjoong. Kim Yeosang.”

“Actually, my name is Song Mingi,” he introduced, properly.

“Not Kim?” she asked surprisedly.

That was strange considering what Wooyoung had told her of Hongjoong. Mingi shook his head.

Glancing her way as he came to a stop as a lady and her baby carriage crossed the street. His hand outstretched to YN. A scar was cut up his palm, large and silvery against his tawny skin. Rings decorated every finger. Some looked like tentacles curling around his knuckles; one was an ‘Ateez’ emblem; another bore the signa of the letter ‘S’. She took it properly to shake. He obliged but kept her hand in his hold when she tried to pull away, fingers grasping hers.

“Song Mingi, Miss YN LN.” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, particularly to her ring finger she noticed. “At your service. Always.”

“Thank you, Mister Song.”

“You can call me just Mingi, doll,” he encouraged. “I want you to.”

“Mingi,” she corrected herself again. “Thank you.”

-

It was Thursday evening now. Mingi had picked her and the duo of patrons up last night as well, saving them from strolling through the snow. This morning she was greeted by a butler driving a metallic car, less flashy compared to Mingi’s cars. He said he was instructed to take her to the opera house that morning.

Now, an hour into the performance and in intermission, she glared over at Takahashi and Mina. The man was preoccupied with the ballerina on his lap, his fingers grazing up over her corseted back. In these moments, most ballerinas tried not to watch, out of respect. But today, she was annoyed. Her mother had relayed their wages had been cut but their hours extended before she left this snowy dawn. She felt like it was this man’s fault. He owned most factories; why sell now?

Wooyoung was talking away on her left, chattering about the chill and how they smell like wood and smoke with all the fireplace usage and how he missed the sun and how it was too cold for his fingers. San had taken his hands coyly then, reaching across her to do so. San told him how to warm his hands up with little work outs. Flexing the other’s hands. It felt like an excuse between the two of them to touch one another.

“Honey.” The larger man tried to get her attention.

San glanced over the way she looked, seeing the dancer and factory-owner in an embrace. His eyes flickered back to her. Was she needy? Were they neglecting her? But he quickly saw as Wooyoung, perceptive even if he was bratty and chatty, interlaced one of his hands  with hers. Squeezing and rubbing her knuckles.

“You’re quiet tonight, honey,” San teased.

She gave San a soft smile, apologetic as she took his hand in hers.

“Just thinking. I’m sorry,” she told him.

“About what, swanette?” Wooyoung pressed. “Can we help?”

“You help always,” she reassured.

And it was true. Their appearance was a bright part of her day, a light. Their patronage wasn’t a thing of burden; she didn’t scrub herself clean afterwards knowing she was a guilty party of an affair or an object of desire. Them asking her about her thoughts proved that. They were good men like her mother had said.

Wooyoung squished her hand again before pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “We’re here,” San spoke for them. “We can help more?”

His hand rose to adjust her coat around her shoulders before tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

“Talk to us?” Wooyoung urged.

YN licked at the back of her teeth, tempted to fall into their comfort. To trust them with her worries. She had long forgone following the rules of the boudoir and the ways of a patron and protégé. San, Wooyoung, and her were different.

“My mother’s factory is having trouble, that’s all.” She told them lowly as if they’d be overheard.

It wasn’t like Takahashi was aware; he was too busy groping Mina’s breast brazenly as he bit at her lips. She glanced away from the man in a mixture of disgust and annoyance. At least her patrons weren’t so brazen. They were gentlemen in her mind.

“He owned it.” she continued.

“Owned as in past tense?”

She nodded. “He sold it; changes have been made – wages and hours - just things that we hadn’t expected. And yet, here he is spending money on patronage.” She sneered a bit.

Wooyoung’s fingers caressed her face. “I’m sorry, pretty,” he hummed.

She sighed out, heavy. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”

San hushed her apologies as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

-

A warehouse in the market place had been taken over recently; scaffolding climbing its brick exterior. Boxes and boxes of materials were stacked up against its walls all bearing the same name. Halazia Company.

-

It was Sunday, her day out with Yeosang. She had received word from him the night before – via Wooyoung – that he’d come to her house to pick her up for their outing. Both Wooyoung and San were tight lipped about what she could be doing. The only hint was that it was something neither of them had taken her to do yet.

So, no movie theatre, no dinner or lunch at fancy restaurants, or sports outing. It made her ponder all night, building up dreams of what ifs. Similar to her other dates, she primped and polished herself to the best of her abilities. It took forever to heat up small amounts of water for her bath but she did (even if her mother complained of the bill – she had money put aside with the lack of bills from the ballet company). Her hair was pin-curled and brushed out in a stylish fashion. Just dashes of her makeup rather than painting it on for a performance. The chill outside her window didn’t let her wear any pretty dresses, her day-dresses all too thin to handle the snow. It made her worry that it wasn’t enough.

He had seen her in so many of her winter dresses now. She rubbed her hands nervously as she paced this way and that for Yeosang’s arrival. Glancing outside every now and then, she was waiting for a rumble of a car, or the rolling wheels of a carriage. But when he did appear, it was simply by walking on the streets, an umbrella in his hand as the snow fell, picturesque, over the neighborhood. He looked like he was from a painting, maybe even one of those paintings from the Ateez House. Angelic, soft, sweet – despite the dark coats he wore layered over his form.

“Yeosang!” she beamed.

He smiled at her, sweetly at her excitement. The door was thrown open before he even was able to walk up the icy steps of her apartment. She looked adorable, he couldn’t help but preen. Unlike a few months ago when she wore the light day-dress to the cinema with Wooyoung, she was bundled up. The gifted coat was tight around her, her skirts she wore were darker in tone. There was even a scarf wrapped around her throat that Yeosang recognized as San’s.

“Hello, Miss YN,” he greeted ever diplomatically. Ever the gentleman. He hurried up the steps to stand beside her, his umbrella shifting to cover her from the snow fall.

Glancing back to grab her handbag and tie her boots a smidge tighter, she was quick to leave the shelter of her front porch. Huddled closer to him, he felt her exhale a smile towards him. A smile he returned easily.

“Your mother isn’t in?” he queried.

YN shook her head as she locked the door with a key. “No, no, the shifts had changed at her factory.” It was said almost neutral in tone, but he could sense the dissatisfaction. He was good at reading the air, managing the public perception of things.

He frowned softly as he took her arm to wrap around his. “I’m sorry; that’s probably put a change in your routine.”

YN laughed a bit. “Yeah. More for her; I worry you know.”

He nodded empathetically before guiding her down the steps of the apartment and past the rickety half-frozen gate.

“But that’s not what we are focusing on today,” she corrected, her tone uplifting. She squeezed his arm. “I’m excited for our time together.”

Yeosang’s heart fluttered; he cleared his throat as he nodded. “I am too. Let’s go.”

Their walk was full of gentle conversation. Yeosang was soft-spoken she knew this, but when alone with him, truly for the first time, it became obvious that he was shyer than anticipated. Not that it was a negative but instead it made her realize that perhaps the socialite she saw interacting with the press was not the same Yeosang that strolled beside her talking. He was more intimate, hushed, and caring. Whenever there was a pavement full of ice, he’d notice and take her weight onto himself to make sure she wouldn’t slip on the slippery surface.

“Where are we headed?” she couldn’t help but poke and prod at his arm with her hands and he laughed out.

“Somewhere special,” he told her. “To have tea.”

Afternoon tea! How exclusive. How rich. Her face expressed so with a pursed ‘o’ face.

“Do you like tea?” he asked after a moment.

She hummed in approval even if her preference didn’t matter much she thought. “I like spending time with you; that’s all that matters,” she told him, nodding.

“I want to know your likes though,” he insisted adamant.

His gaze was intense, sincere. So, she told him her preference and he hummed as if making a mental note. Their conversation continued down likes and dislikes and just as she had previously thought she and Yeosang were similar. Hard workers who unfortunately were workaholics. They both had their fondest memories around their skills – ballet and tennis.

Slowly, but surely, she realized they were walking back to the mansion, winding down cobblestoned road and past bridges where salt water bays met fresh water rivers. The water barely trickled through the ice, casting fractals of rainbows about.

“Is it at the mansion?” she asked again. She had voiced her guesses many times throughout their walk. Each one made Yeosang buzz with excitement, his grin growing.

“Maybe,” he tempted, smirking.

The sound of an automobile rushed behind them, coming down the road. He shifted the umbrella to shield them from its oncoming splash into half-melted slushed snow. Quick and efficient. His hand-eye coordination was top-tier.

“Thank you,” she praised.

He nodded, seriously and she could help but squeeze his arm. The temptation to kiss his cheek to ease his tension was intense. It was clear he put great effort into this date and she already was touched. She enjoyed spending time with him just like this. He adjusted the umbrella to shade them again and continued their walk.

They managed to come to the grand roundabout of the mansion. In the morning light, it didn’t burn with a sunset glow, its windows weren’t a fiery orange but instead reflecting the pale-blue sky on this winter’s day. The snow had been freshly shoveled away from the paths and the driveway, void of any ice to slip on thankfully. She let up on the grip she had on Yeosang’s arm – something he noticed with a pout. He liked her close.

He grabbed her arm tighter, boldly.

“Let’s go this way,” he encouraged her as he guided her towards the right of the roundabout, away from the grand doors of the Ateez House.

Their stroll took them down delicately placed stonework paths winding through what she assumed were the gardens. There was nothing but twisted branches, half dead in the winter chill. Like hands reaching up out of the ground, like something from a haunted storybook.

She eyed them before glancing up at the winding trees that rested nearby, their branches thick and undulating with braided layers reaching up into the sky overhead. Some even poked and prodded at the mansion’s nearby windows. One of these windows had a figure looking down at her and Yeosang, masked by the gleam of sunlight hitting the glass pane.

They weaved through what she assumed was a hedge-maze with its rows and rows of dead plants before they were faced with a large structure she had never seen before. Coated in fallen snow, the structure looked like an ice palace, but as butlers up on top of ladders dusted off the snow, YN could see it was actually a conservatory. Made of glass.

“It’s-it’s new,” Yeosang told her softly. “We had some plants shipped in. We love fresh flowers.”  A luxury her mind reminded her. The rich could afford to go against the seasons and nature to have flowers at any moment. But she couldn’t help her curiosity, her intrigue. Yeosang saw it in her eyes. He loved it, the fire she held. It’s the same thing he saw when she danced.

It made him happy to think he could ignite that without the ballet.

“Let’s go inside?” he offered, gesturing towards the door with his umbrella-holding hand. Snow landed on their heads delicately like butterflies kissing their hair and cheeks. She nodded.

For something erected so quickly, it was gorgeously done. The conservatory was all glass panels; its high ceilings circulated humid warmed air around the place with its electric fans. Quickly, she felt stifled by the coat around her shoulders and she wiggled to unclasp its highest buttons.

“We have lots of tropical flowers,” Yeosang said, glancing her way as he placed the umbrella on a silver platter a butler held out. He slipped out of his gloves and placed them there as well. His jacket was next before he turned to her to ask for hers. She nodded and obliged.

The interior was scented with clashing florals – some light and herbal and others pungent with almost-perfume-y scents. There were climbing vines all over, palm trees brushed at the highest glass panes making the ceiling, and roses were blooming nearby in reds, whites, and pinks. Lush and blooming. Everything was well taken care of and she remembered Yeosang’s lament at their last house dinner.

“Do you care for these?” she asked, glancing back at the man.

Yeosang was quick to shake his hands in disagreement. “No, no, no. I like the gardens; we all do – it’s like our own little slice of Aurora - but I don’t tend to them. The butlers do – sometimes Seonghwa can be found out here as well.” There’s a pause. “Not today though. Today is just for us.” He offered her his hand, the fingers twitching lightly. “Just us.” He repeated.

YN smiled at him, pleased to know there would be no surprises. Yeosang seemed to value their alone time it seemed – perhaps its was his more intimate, private nature. The more time they spent together it felt like she was meeting Yeosang and not Kim Yeosang, the athlete. She hoped that it was similar for her and her patrons. That they saw her, not the dancer.

 She took his hand easily and squeezed.

“Just us.” She repeated.

Their afternoon consisted of tea, surrounded by the little slice of Aurora like he said. The tea was only the finest, sweet and un-bittered. Their snacks were a wide array of things she had tried with Wooyoung and San once before. Yeosang told her grand tales of his winnings – reminiscing of different lands he visited and the people he wooed with his socializing. Nothing explicit – in fact, it sounded like he had no time for romance these past few years. Or he was just that good at diverting the stories away from that topic. He retold stories of him and the others – sharing moments of them traveling. San apparently got drunk easily; Mingi apparently was good at racing cars too when they needed to get to their ship quickly. Every story was littered with affection, clear in his tone of annoyance.

“You are so sweet,” she cooed at him after he shared another moment between him and his closer-than-friends friends.

“I’m not sweet,” he pouted. “I’m tough.”

She giggled. His pouted increased, playfully.

“You are. Nothing wrong with that,” she argued. “You’re like a Maltese,” she teased. “Sweet, angelic.”

“No, no I’m a Doberman!” he argued back. He bared his teeth, shoulders went back.

“Hmm, maybe,” she agreed after a moment. “Protective guard dog.”

Yeosang’s brow jittered and he laughed out a rumbling laugh. “Fine. Your Doberman.”

-

Mingi had begun to pick her up in the evenings. Her and whichever of her patrons were present. It was strange how in the last few days they’d not been together. Nonetheless she enjoyed time with them alone. There had even been a few mornings Mingi had shown up, surprising her once more with the car. He claimed it had been too cold for her to walk but the storm had greatly disappeared, leaving the world chilly but not unbearable.

She didn’t say anything though – she enjoyed his company. He talked about his passions – ranging from music to money to machines. He especially liked cars. He had countless cars, supposedly imported from Aurora.

“I’ll buy you a car,” he claimed when she once again complimented the upgraded interior of his newest automobile – everything gold and white like some sort of royal chariot.

“No way!” she laughed. “I’d never be able to pay you back.”

Mingi joined in her laughter at first before processing what she said.

“Wait, do you think you owe us?” he queried. “Me? San? Woo?”

Her giggles trailed off at his sudden seriousness. His brows were sharp, nothing like the soft arcs that greeted her with his boyish smile. No. He looked masculine, fierce, concerned. His lips remained the softest thing on him, pouting plumply at her words.

“Not exactly,” she admitted tentatively, carefully navigating her thoughts with him. “But I couldn’t accept such a gift – I struggle with things like jackets or jewelry.”

She wasn’t dumb. She knew what patrons wanted – she hoped they were different but it never left. It never faded. Imara had a new patron now and she couldn’t help but feel the betrayal for her fellow ballerina. The way a new man’s hands went up and down her arms made YN shudder for her. Patrons were patrons. They were giving something for something.  

YN hoped it was just to see her succeed but she wasn’t a fool.

They could drop her any moment or insist on something else. Even if Mingi wasn’t her patron he was connected. He wouldn’t be talking to her, driving her, associating with her without San and Wooyoung.

Mingi pouted and scooted closer to her in the car.

“You don’t owe us anything,” he told her firmly. “Anything we spend on you isn’t with something insidious in mind. I promise, baby.”

He went to stroke the hair away from her face and she let him but he felt the distance she had put up. A tension formed in her muscles. He sighed.

“You don’t owe me anything ever.” He reiterated. “And I bet if you said anything like this to San,” he let out a whistle. “You’d receive a hundred jackets and jewels.”

He chuckled a bit but she couldn’t find the humor.

“Why?”

Why was she so different? Why did she draw the attention of them? Her gaze shifted to meet Mingi’s gaze.

“Because you’re you.” He told her simply.

“We like you.”

-

Yeosang was here. Yeosang was here! She could see him sat beside San and Wooyoung high in their box and she couldn’t help the electric zing going up her spine. She rose up on relevé and genuflected towards the Odette of the production; each step she knew by heart. Her mind was preoccupied with the thought of the additional pair of eyes. Perhaps he’d come visit. It was strange to crave their presence in the boudoir, knowing the implications. She didn’t wish for the other girls’ patrons to arrive – sometimes she’d hope theyd just pay and let the overworked ballerina go home after the show. But her patrons! They were different. She liked them.

YN performed a grand jete toward a false tree; she and the other swans and baby cygnets pretended to parade about. Her eyes flashed back to the familiar box. He smiled and said something to Wooyoung, mouth obscured behind a polite hand.  Wooyoung less-polite grinned out and nodded excitedly.

She like their eyes on her; their attention on her; their thoughts on her. She did a triple pirouette, breaking choreography to show off just a bit. Hoping her pearls would catch the light just right to make her sparkle.

Their scene was over; the flock of swans run away back to the lake of tears – offstage.

-

“What was that?” the Madame scolded her, grabbing her arm before she could pass to the boudoir to see if Yeosang had snuck back (funny she thought of it as sneaking when she knew money was no object to them – they’d pay the fee if they wanted to).

The cruel ballerina-of-old glared at her with a grimace. Her grip on her arm was vicious and bruising. The other ballerinas glanced at her before they weaved around the pair, unlikely to speak up to face the Madame’s wrath.

“I miscounted my turns,” YN lied. “I’m sorry.”

A hiss was sucked in between the madame’s teeth. She bared them in anger, disbelief, and hate. It took YN aback; she had seen the Madame angry before but this felt targeted. Intense.

“I’m sorry,” YN repeated, uncertainty blurring into her words.

“Stupid girl; you had to show off, hm?” The Madame bit out. “Upstaging and insulting the prima, me, your producer – did you think it’d impress?”

Her arm was shaken roughly, the Madame’s nails piercing through her nylon sleeves and digging into her skin. YN yelped and tried to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” she pleaded.

“Wretched girl.” The Madame tugged and pushed YN’s arm away fiercely; she raised her cane up.

“Is there a problem?” A voice chimed out.

The Madame turned quicker than YN had seen in a long time – and YN’s gaze settled over her shoulder.

Jongho. YN’s eyes widened at the sight of him. Rather than shadowed by the veil of night or a darkened opera house, he was bright. Tawny skin, masculine sharp lines, his lips were firm and his brows furrowed as he eyed the cane and YN’s form pressed against the wall.

“Mr. Choi,” Madame stuttered out.

The intimidating man’s hard look didn’t soften at his name. The icy glare was steady on the older woman before he glanced at YN. Almost as if she was a flame, she could see the chill melt from his dark eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked directly.

She nodded. The Madame spoke,” She’s fine. This is between me and my ballerinas.”

“Your ballerinas that I fund as the highest-bidder,” Jongho bit back. “Perhaps that discussion would be of more interest than… this.” He glanced over YN once more, an itch in his bones to go check her over but he knew deep-down this was helping.

Get her out of the situation. Just like Hongjoong did for him.

“Ah, y-yes, let’s discuss,” she said stepping away from YN, her cane clanking to support her bad leg once more.

Jongho, stern-faced, nodded and turned away from YN and waited for the Madame to pass.

YN let out a soft breath, eyes not leaving Jongho’s brooding form as he strode away. He had saved her ass from being beat. But beyond that she learned something important – he was the highest funder of the ballet. Since when? Was it just him or was it for the Kim Family? Why was it that he and Mingi both had different last names while some of the bachelors insisted on using the moniker, Kim? It was confusing.

They were confusing.

Her excitement had been dulled by the attack from the Madame and the remaining questions but she still had to return to the boudoir. So, like pulling upon a costume, she pulled on a smile and walked into the boudoir.

It was bustling in the foyer de la danse. Ballerinas rushing to and fro, in half-naked states. Some pulled on their costumes as they held hairpins in-between their teeth to fix their buns. Others were busy talking to their patrons or potential-patrons. She watched as one of the girls trailed her fingers up a man’s arm, playfully.

It made her remember how her own arm ached, glancing down to see the pierced nylon and crescent-moon imprints of the Madame’s nails. Sighing, she knew she’d have to fix that sometime soon – even if there was only a limited amount of time left for Swan Lake, she didn’t want to be shoddy-looking. The adrenaline rush was fading and she felt dull.

“Swanette,” Wooyoung was the first to spot her and call to her from their spot at the settee. There he and Yeosang lounged. San stood nearby, back against a mirrored, gold-gilded wall. 

Her smile settled on her face and she ignored her torn costume, her injury, everything in the name of the patron. It was funny almost how the Madame had to do the same moments ago.

“Hello,” she greeted. Her gaze flickered to the nearby grandfather clock, noting the time. She liked to hurry to the boudoir to be ready for their arrival – it was rare for her not to be here when they arrived. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s alright,” Yeosang reassured. He stood from his spot to embrace her which she eagerly returned.

“Hello, Sangie. I’m so happy to see you.”

He grinned into her neck. “Hello sweetheart. You’re doing magnificent.”

It made her blush and she buried her face into his shoulder taking in his herbal, woodsy scent.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“What is this?” San was keen-eyed. His hand had taken her bicep, carefully – even while in Yeosang’s embrace.

“Its nothing,” YN said quickly. “Hello Sannie.” She leaned up with Yeosang’s arms still around her waist to press a kiss to San’s cheek.

His pout was scolding, if a pout could be. “Don’t do that.” he whined softly. He squeezed her arm, not painfully or cruel, but as if to bring attention to it again. “What happened?”

“I’m okay,” she told him.

Boudoir issues stayed boudoir issues. It was funny how a new face reminded her of that – she had grown too comfortable around Wooyoung and San.

Yeosang was next to look at the nail-marks, peering close. “Oh, sweetheart.” He hummed.

It was sweet the way the huddled and mother-hen’d over her not-injury. None of the nail marks even broke the skin. If the blunt head of the cane had hit her, that’d be a different story, but she was also used to it.

“I’m okay,” she reassured sweetly.

Yeosang brushed over the wound carefully, frowning.

Her hand rose to cup Yeosang’s cheek and caress his skin. He couldn’t help the way his eyes fluttered. He was unused to her being so bold. The boudoir truly brought out a different side to her. He breathed out shakily before turning his head to smell at her wrist. He pressed a kiss to her palm, startling her. Her breath caught in her throat. San beside her hummed lightly, his thumb brushing over her skin.

There was a lull in conversation as the two men fell into two different stupors. San worried and debated if pushing was worth it. She was more often than not honest with him now. Perhaps it was nothing. He could always investigate later. He could sense her emotions were out of whack. Sensitive, he allowed her privacy for now.

Meanwhile, Yeosang was overwhelmed with the way she reacted to the gentle kiss. The gentleman knew that they hadnt even broken three dates but perhaps this counted as the third. He ached for her – for her affection that she gave the other two so freely.

His eyes raised to lock with hers as he pressed another kiss to her pulse. Reverent. There was a tension like a taut rubber-band between the gentleman socialite and the ballerina. Her heart thrummed, a different melody than the one that played for San or Wooyoung. But together it formed the beginning of a symphony she knew it.

“Not to interrupt,” Wooyoung interrupted. “But sweet swanette here, hello.” He greeted pressing a kiss to the tips of his fingers to wave at her from his spot on the settee. “Does need to prepare for the next act.”

Her head swooped to see some dancers leaving; the clock taunted her.

She cleared her throat, nodding. “I do. Thank you, baby.”

Like a peacock, he preened at the nickname, a soft giggle rumbling. YN removed her hand from Yeosang’s cheek and untwined herself.

“Shall I look away?” Yeosang teased her.

Her cheeks flushed as she began to turn away. She heard a thump of flesh-hitting-flesh. “You will.” San warned, although it wasn’t threatening as it was teasing in tone. “Gosh, what’s gotten into you?”

“Love.” Yeosang hinted, her eyes flashing to meet his once more and her heart whirled at the connotation, no, the declaration. So clear and easy.

He loved her? Her wide eyes flashed to them, despite her feet taking her further away to grab her next costume.

“Join the team.” Wooyoung laughed.

-

It was later that night when the lights were low in the boudoir. Ballerinas and patrons alike had waddled away in their winter clothes.

She, Yeosang, and her patrons remained, sitting on the settee, talking. She couldn’t help the high that trickled through her veins at the thought of them loving her.

Yunho had asked her a few weeks ago if she loved them… and she thinks she might.

They were different. Yeosang laughed out as Wooyoung told a joke. San glanced at them fondly before taking her hand. The athlete then turned to her to tell her a joke of his own. Comfortability, security, softness, happiness.

That’s what she felt around them. Even when a moan broke free from the nearby corner of the boudoir, she could ignore it and scoot closer to her patrons. And be safe.

Yes, she did harbor love for them.

-

The table was a familiar one, but rather than dish after dish of food laid out, there was money. Stacked piles of coins, dollar bills, loose diamonds, jewels, and jewelry. San picked up a stray ruby, looking it over with intrigue.

“You did good,” a voice praised.

“Thanks, Captain.” Yeosang replied. “And thank you for the ticket.”

“How was the performance?”

San and Wooyoung glanced to look at the other, gauging his reaction. Wooyoung’s mouth parted to speak before a firm elegant hand squeezed the back of Wooyoung’s neck; the younger biting out a scowl, a mix of pain and pleasure written over his face. He remained quiet like a cat being scruffed.

“She’s a sight,” Yeosang admitted.

“And afterwards?”

“The foyer de la danse, yes.” Yeosang continued. “Wooyoung is right – there are many high societal figures there; it’s good that we are there. Easier to control from within.”

“Should you be there?”

Yeosang’s face didn’t hide his dissatisfaction, the grimace. Around his family, he didn’t wear the stone-faced socialite façade well.

“He hated it,” Mingi interrupted.

Yunho kicked his leg. “It’s true,” the younger retaliated before glancing at the head of the table, brows upturned. “Its all he talked about on the ride home. ‘It’s a fucking whorehouse’, hyung.”

“Don’t talk about it like that,” Wooyoung bit back.

“Girls groped; money being traded for who knows what? I heard of heavy petting in a foyer de la danse but shit - that Madame is more of a Mistress than anything.” Mingi commented. Mingi was nothing but passionate. Soft hearted as he was pompous. Out-spoken only because he was so loyal. “No wonder she feels like she’s a piece of meat.”

Mingi tossed down a coin in frustration. San sighed out through his nose, a hand going to adjust his glasses. He knew she felt that way for a while but hearing Mingi state it so bluntly made him conflicted. Brows crinkled on his beautiful face.

“We knew that after San joined Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung scoffed, leaning back. He hated how they talked of the place their YN worked in. She wasn’t some harlot.

“It’s just not my taste,” Yeosang argued simply, hands raising in defense. “I’ve already got newspapers crawling down my neck after Yunho’s stunt.”

“No one writes about ballet girls,” Jongho commented, exhaling over his drink.

“You’ll get to spend more time with her.” A smooth voice commented, thumbs digging into Wooyoung’s neck. The man melted in his grasp just a bit.

“As an equal to those men,” Yeosang scoffed as if San and Wooyoung hadnt joined their ranks already – but they always hadn’t been afraid to climb into the dirty underbelly of something for their Captain.

Tip, tip, tip, tap. There was the sound of fingers tapping on the wooden table, thoughtfully.

“Hyung?” Mingi prompted.

“What do you think?” Yunho queried.

Jongho glanced over at Seonghwa before his gaze shifted to the head of the table, carefully.  

“I have a proposition, my love.”

Seonghwa was the one to speak up; his other hand going to curl over Hongjoong’s fiddling fingers.

All eyes settled on him, his lips curling into a smirk.

-

The rehearsals that would typically take up her mornings and afternoons were absent with the show closing soon. There were only limited performances left – the Opera House even canceling a few to encourage scarcity (or so they were told).

So instead, she spent her days at Ateez House. Each of the men she knew encouraged her to visit whenever she wished. But at the start of each morning, she’d see Mingi sitting in a car waiting for her. She felt like she couldn’t say no with how he greeted her, so kind, so sweet, so warm.

When she arrived to the house, her activities would change each day, sometimes each hour.

Sometimes she’d take tea with Yeosang in the conservatory. He had grown more daring, pressing kisses to her cheek now when they met. His ebbing and flowing shyness was somehow charming and drew her into his orbit even more. He was comfort – devotion that it was hard to see him and not be overwhelmed by his passion.

But then in the afternoon, she’d be cuddled up near a fire with a big fur coat engulfing San and herself. He’d show her what he was working on, her form half on his lap as he showed her the tiny trinkets he collected and worked on it. It was fascinating that a man such as him would be so invested in cute things like knitting and fixing gadgets. She showed him how to sew, her nylon sleeved corset in her hands as she carefully repaired the tear. He eventually weaseled the truth of that night from her mouth – after copious amounts of kisses.

“If she ever hurts you again,” he threatened, intimately.

Her body felt hot all over at his affections, his eyes burned as he shifted closer. Pressing her into the study’s couch, the large fur-coat warmed them to the point of sweating – hiding them from view.

“It’s happened before,” she told him softly. He frowned deeply at her words. “It’ll happen again.”

“I don’t like it. I don’t want you hurt.” He’d mark his words by capturing her lips with his.

Other times, she’d be joined by Mingi in a round of chess. He revealed that he was quite good at games. He didn’t even let her win! But when he did win with a growled out ‘checkmate’, the way his smile bloomed on his face was a condolence. She liked his smile; she liked him happy.

He’d pout at the sound of his name across the house. The voice was unfamiliar to her.

“Mingi-ah! Mingi-ah!” it’d call, melodically.

“It’s hyung,” he’d tell her. “I’ll be back! Don’t go anywhere!”

She nodded, rearranging the chess pieces back to their designated spots. They were ornated figures – each one made of jewels. She was careful with every single one. They sparkled in the gas-lit room; the crystals gleaming like diamonds but their surfaces were both so different. Transparent, cloudy white diamond for the white set of chess pieces and a starlit night sky of a black color for the other set. Its texture was bumpier than the crystalline white pieces. She placed the pawns in a row precisely.

A meow startled her, hands fumbling the knight piece. It clattered on the floor loudly. YN jumped back in surprise; eyes darting to the expensive piece. Luckily, it didn’t shatter and she let out a sigh of relief. Glancing around the room, she tried to spot where the cat was. How did it even get in here? The door had been shut.

The cat meowed again closer. It leapt from a nearby table towards the fallen chess piece, easily snatching it up between its fangs.

“Wait!” YN exclaimed.

There was a hissing sound from the creature as it raced away out towards the double doors.

“Come back,” she whispered lowly, afraid of causing a scene as she rushed after the cat.

The blue-black cat weaved out of the door and down the hall. YN glanced both ways down the hall – empty of any butlers, thankfully (surely, she looked crazy racing after a cat). She followed after the kitten who was now purring loudly as it continued to pad towards an opened door down another hallway. The cat wasn’t going to let her get its treasure.

“Kitty,” she called softly as she trailed after the animal, looking around to make sure no one was watching.

She felt uncomfortable leaving the study that Mingi had left her in. In the past few days, it had become familiar, safe, in comparison to the maze of a mansion before her. But she felt even worse that she let an expensive jewel-esque game piece get snatched up by a cat. A cat who most likely was going to chew and ruin it! Oh, she couldn’t afford to replace such a thing! Even a regular chess set was expensive with its wooden carved figures. A diamond-carved one! She couldn’t imagine.

The cat’s purrs grew as it wiggled its way into a cracked doorway – the same doorway she had seen the cat come from her first visit to the mansion. Tentatively, she pressed the door open a smidge.

“Kitty.” She repeated. “Come here.”

YN peered into the room cautiously. It was somehow darker and brighter than the other rooms. Perhaps it was due to the blood-red carpet that filled the entire floor. Its velveteen texture sucked up any light, making it look flat. Its walls were a mix of tawny browns and sharp blacks, only emphasized by the few warm gas-lights in the corners of the room; emblems of the Ateez House rested in gold on the large columns. A sort of clock window-frame was the lone floor-level window present; its curtains drawn tight over whatever window resided there. A large skylight was in the center of the room, pouring natural sunlight over a piano that rested there.

That was it in the large room… a piano with a white marble figurine on its top. And a midnight-black kitten gnawing on a crystalline chess piece beneath the grand piano.

“Kitty!” she hissed herself, trying to get its attention from the door way. YN made a soft psp-psp-psp sound to tempt the animal; all the spoiled kitty did was chew harder on the horse head of the knight. YN could hear the grating sound of teeth against diamond.

She slapped her knees, trying to get the cat’s attention.

“Kitty!” she hissed again, shuffling closer and closer.

The gnawing stopped for a moment before it started up again. Gosh! YN quickly got to her knees and ducked her head underneath the grand piano.

“Give me that.”

She tried to swipe the diamond chess-piece from the cat, only to get a swipe of a paw in return. The cat hissed violently before chewing on the piece possessively. Grumbles and hisses gurgled from the animal loudly.

“It isn’t yours,” she hushed as she tried to grasp it again.

Hiss!

“Z?” A masculine voice called out.

YN’s cheeks grew hot as she stared at the cat with wide eyes. It mimicked her; the cat’s large eyes looked like glossy marbles. Its muzzle was askew, mouth half-stuffed with the diamond chess piece.

“Z,” the tone was lighter this time, sing-songy. “What are you doing?”

The cat had the audacity to meow. YN’s face turned into a grimace of a scold. She tried to grasp the piece again, finally wrapping her fingers around the jeweled thing. The cat hissed again, the chess piece loosening a bit. There was a grumble mroawr from the cat before she finally let go and hissed fully with her fangs out. A paw swiped at YN but she quickly dodged it, holding onto her prize.

A triumphant ‘ha’ escaped her in a huff as she landed back on her bum; the cat scurried away.

“YN?”

Her head banged on the bottom of the piano.

“Oh, love,” he was quick to jump forward, his hand going to the piano to first catch the jostled porcelain statue as he knelt down beside her. “Are you alright?”

“Hi Jongho,” she greeted, voice strained as she rubbed the top of her head.

He tutted, his cheeks puffing out as he examined her forehead. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this?”

“You don’t like rescuing me?” she teased, trying to laugh off the blossoming pain.

He laughed softly, smiling at her with kind eyes. “I didn’t say that,” he retorted, his thumb rose to rub at the bruise gently. She flinched and his touch softened even more.

“I don’t know,” she hummed. “I like you being my hero.”

It was a flirt and he knew it. But he was a romantic so he let her get away with it. Z meowed nearby and rubbed up against his thigh. He glanced aside at the animal before settling back on YN, spotting the ornamental piece in her hand.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked softly. Intimately. As if they had more background than a few passing encounters. It was strange how she already felt comforted, safe, in his gaze. He shifted to help her up from the floor; his hands felt strong as he took on her weight easily. He set her onto the piano’s stool. He joined her on it as well.

“She stole this from the study,” she said, showing the chess piece. “It looks so expensive and –”

Jongho laughed, the sound a giggling melody. “Its just a chess piece.” He told her. There was a wave of heat down her neck, equivalent to shame.

He sensed her bashfulness and his hand fell over the hand that held the game piece. “Thank you, love.” he said softly. “You are sweet. And daring.”

“Daring?” she chuckled out at that, eyes raising to meet his.

Jongho’s features lit up into a sweet smile, far sweeter than she had seen yet on the fairly-serious man’s face. He nodded, his hair flopping against his forehead.

“Chasing after Z?” he glanced over at the cat who was lounging out on the red carpet, licking her paws, spoilt. “Very bold. She’s an expert on this house; she could’ve gotten you lost.”

She chuckled again. “That’s true,” she snorted.

“Good thing I found you before you went down a wrong turn,” he said, almost seriously she noted. His shoulders softened and he took the chess piece from her to place on top of the piano. Beside the figurine.

YN’s gaze flickered from the chess piece (that was lightly chewed now that she was looking at it) to the porcelain figure. It was a ballerina in fourth position. Squinting, she swore she saw her own features frozen in the doll’s face. A freckle, a mole, the curve of her smile. She blinked at it.

“I like bold,” he told her quietly. “The others do, too. But let’s not be too bold yet,” he encouraged.

He glanced over at her and she saw a fragility that she hadnt seen on him before. He was giving her advice she realized and she nodded thoughtfully, if not a bit confused. How was it bold to go after a cat? Sure, wandering around a house that wasn’t yours was a bit rude, but… it was just a house.

He nodded back and rose to stand, a hand outstretched for her to take. “Let’s get you back to your study, hm?” he offered.

Her hand took his and he smiled. His other hand rose to take the game piece from its surface, and he began to guide her out of the room.

“Jongho?” she prompted on their walk.

He glanced at her, his hand shifting their intertwined hands to his arm politely. Charmingly even, she thought, because she swore she felt him flex beneath her fingertips.

“Do the others know that you attend the opera?” she asked.

Jongho’s stiff lip remained firm and he glanced out the rainy windows they passed. A meow followed them and she realized that Z was following after them like a little ghost.

“A few do,” he admitted. “But not your patrons, yes.”

“Why?” she queried, her curiosity getting the better of her. “I’ve seen you there – after that night. I’d love to greet you. Yeosang has visited the foyer de la danse; perhaps you can as well.”

Her hero’s lips quirked and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “I’m a busy man,” he admitted. “But I would love to greet you when I can.”

It didn’t feel dismissive as it sounded. In fact, to YN, it felt hopeful. Her hero, her rescuer, her mysterious viewer… it was quite exciting to have someone sneak way to see you. Even when busy.

“Swan Lake is ending soon – next weekend… I’d love to see you.”

“I’d like that.”

When they returned to the study, Mingi was there, looking stressed; his eyes wide as he seemingly was tugging on his coat, adjusting something behind his back.

Jongho cleared his throat and Mingi jumped, his gaze flickering over to them with a sharp precision. And like that, all his tension, all his anxiety, melted away.

“Doll, where did you go?” he insisted.

Before she could even answer, Jongho tossed the chess piece towards Mingi. The other reacted quick and caught it easily, glancing at it. Confusion filled his brown orbs adorably so, his lips pouting.

“Z stole it,” Jongho informed. “Miss YN chased down the criminal.”

Mingi sighed out through his nose, examining the piece for not a moment longer before he placed it down on the chess board. “You didn’t need to, baby.” He told her. “It was just a game piece.”

“I didn’t know she was going to send me on a race throughout the house,” YN tried to defend. “I’m sorry.”

Mingi hushed her, walking towards her. His hands rested on her shoulders. “No apologies; just don’t go running off,” he insisted. His gaze flickered over to Jongho. “You’ve met our baby.”

Jongho didn’t whine, didn’t complain, didn’t wiggle like others did at being babied. She had seen Yeosang and Wooyoung swoon over the affectionate teases of San, of his babying. But Jongho stared, stoic at the other. Mingi chuckled at it.

“We’ve met before,” YN revealed to Mingi. “It was nice to see him again – in better circumstances.”

“You hit your head,” Jongho argued, brows crinkling at her words.

“You’re hurt?” Mingi asked.

“I’m fine, really!” she exclaimed laughing as the taller looked her over with care. “Next time, it’ll be the best circumstances,” she told Jongho. Implying it would be at the ballet, hopefully.

He smiled. “Hopefully.”

“Are you busy? Want to join us for a game?” Mingi nodded towards the selection of games on the table – from chess to cards. “Jongho is the best at cards,” he told YN.

“It’s true,” Jongho peacocked. “But I have to get back to work. I have paper-work to do; Z simply caught my attention. Miss YN.” He raised her hand, that was warm and almost sweaty from their interlocked hands being interlaced for so long. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles delicately, respectfully.

“I’ll be seeing you.”

He squeezed her fingers before letting go. Quickly, he playful messed Mingi’s hair in a mischievous way that made her laugh. The two scuffled; Mingi tried to get him back before Jongho escaped the room.

-

Wooyoung liked having her in the mansion. At first, she wondered if it was the privacy – closed doors, shut curtains. But whenever they entered one of the many studies that graced the large estate, Wooyoung never pounced – he didn’t tear at her dresses and growl and bite at her lips. Instead, a different intimacy was made.

He was casual. Soft fabrics, lounge wear, slippers, rolled up sleeves, tousled hair. He wore long robes and would sprawl back on sofas, less than appropriate but nothing explicit.

He’d make grabby hands for her to join him on the sofa, but his hands didn’t wander. He just enjoyed the closeness of her. They often napped and talked. Their conversations wandered from the topics they typically stuck to in the boudoir. Shifting beyond ballet, society, and culture. She shared their struggles – YN’s worries about her mother and the factory, Wooyoung admitting to her that what Hongjoong orders is law around here and sometimes he feels stifled, and other sensitivities. All while wrapped in each other’s arms.

Wooyoung yearned for when she’d wear similar clothes as him rather than her longsleeved heavied skirts of the passing Edwardian Age. He yearned for her – yearned for her comfort, for her happiness, for her.

YN’s head lulled to rest against his chest; the sound of his heart beat soft and lulling like a lullaby. Their hands were interlaced as he continued to retell a story about Yeosang and him butting heads, affectionately. His thumb rubbed up and down her side gentle and soothingly. Her eyes blinked sleepily like a cat’s as she kept her gaze on their intertwined hands. His hands were so large, veiny, compared to hers. She followed the veins over his knuckles down his wrist, further further, until she spotted darkness. Ink?

“Wooyoung?” his name was muffled against his chest as she pondered aloud.

“Hm?” he retorted, head jolting up from the pillow in concern.

Her delicate fingers trailed lower and lower, pushing his sleeve up more and more. To reveal a tattoo.

“You have a tattoo?” she exclaimed. A mixture of awe and danger clashed in her stomach. Danger, intrigue, potato, poh-tah-to. Her eyes were near glowing as she pushed herself up to investigate.

Wooyoung’s low chuckles made his lips curl and eyes shut into half-moons.

“I have tattoos,” he clarified, shifting up on the avalanche of pillows he was resting back on.

His other hand went to her waist, keeping her close as he adjusted and rolled back the entirety of his sleeve to reveal the ink in his skin.

It was a relatively new tattoo. The skin was still faintly red, healing. But Wooyoung didn’t flinch or whine when her fingertips brush over the ink. The dark lines painted out a sharp thorny rose, only highlighting his veiny arm.

Wooyoung’s gaze flickered from his arm to her fascination, a coy look on her face.

“It was a gift from Seonghwa,” he told her.

“Huh?” She was still tracing over the tattoo's lines softly, mouth parted in awe. Her gaze shifted to look up at him, her fingers pausing in their path.

“He offered the design to me,” he said. “It’s a rose that will never wilt, just for me. He loves roses.”

His other hand rose to pull at his skin to show off every bit of the new ink to her, biting a grin out at the sting of the sensitive skin. Seonghwa was always affectionate like this; he knew that Wooyoung loved intimacy and ink; he loved things that felt like he was theirs. That’s why he always caused so much trouble, Seonghwa thought. Wooyoung loved being put in his place. Lovingly, of course.

“You have other tattoos?” she asked. She had never seen ink on his skin yet. Where could they be? Hidden away from proper view? She imagined his legs... his biceps... his bare chest...

He smiled as if he knew where her mind went.

“I have three others, birdie." His hand shifted to brush up her back, firm and teasingly slow. Tip, tap, tapping as he dragged his hand upwards until they rested at the nape of her neck. He tickled there faintly. “Here.”

His other arm- the one bearing his tattoo - shifted, twisting from her grasp so he could place his hand on her knee only to slide up her leg slowly. Dark eyes locked onto one another; Wooyoung carefully judged her reactions. Swallowing each change in her eyes, the microscopic swallow of her throat, the fine shift of her facial muscles, the lick of her lips. He grinned wolfishly at her before his fingers pinched at her thigh playfully. And despite her thigh being clothed in layers of skirts now, she knew he'd seen her skin before, hugged her close before, it somehow felt taboo. Exciting enough to make her stomach whirl pleasantly. She jumped in his grasp, and he giggled.

“Here, too.” He clarified at his thumb brushed over the spot he pinched. He licked his lips as he leaned in closer, tugging her closer as the hand on her thigh trailed over her hip. Squeezing fondly for a moment before it crawled up her waist, higher and higher until his hand rested against her ribs. “And here.”

“A lot of places,” she breathed; he chuckled again. A whoosh of minty breath fanned over her face; he felt her ribs expand and deflate. He leaned forward closer still until they shared the same breath. “Are they all Seonghwa’s?”

“Nah,” he laughed out. He leaned in to press a kiss to her lips, quick and sweet. He adored her and the way she made connections - even if they were wrong. “They’re mine. Sannie and I share one though.”

“San has a tattoo?” YN exclaimed out, eyes alit with curiosity once more.

Wooyoung giggled like a child.

“Mh-hm,” he agreed, tugging her close to cuddle once more. "There's a lot you don't know of Sannie and I."

She pushed her hands onto his chest, towering over him for a moment.

“I want to know, Woo.”

He smiled with a cupid’s arrow sharp grin. He turned their forms so she’d be below him, peppering her face with kisses.

“I know, swanette. I want to know you inside and out too.”

-

She had fallen asleep in the study, snuggled into Wooyoung’s chest after a scandalous amount of kissing. Wooyoung made her feel so safe, warm, and cozy that she fell asleep against his collarbone as he hummed soft melodies in her ear. Only for her to awaken with the sun setting and Wooyoung nowhere to be seen. A soft quilt had been draped over her and a pillow propped under her head.

Sitting up, she glanced around. A butler stood; stone faced at the door. He didn’t even look at her. Her cloche hat – that Wooyoung had removed for her – rested on a nearby end-table.

“Uh… where is Wooyoung?” she asked tentatively as she put her hat back onto her head.

“In a meeting, Miss YN.”

She blinked and nodded softly, glancing about. Unsure. Was she to wait for him here? Should she leave?

“He said Mr. Kang could keep you company if you awoke before he returned.”

Mr. Kang… her brows pursed, unfamiliar with the name.

“Kang?” she repeated.

The butler nodded sturdily before opening the door, gesturing with one hand. “Come with me.”

Glancing between the disheveled sofa and the butler, she pursed her lips and swallowed, her curiosity got the better of her and she walked towards the doors.

Being led throughout the maze was easy, following along as she glanced at the artwork and listened for the tell-tale crow of Wooyoung’s laugh. There was none; instead, she heard the siren call of a big band tune. Something jazz with a full band. The further they walked the closer the music grew.

The butler opened another set of double-doors.

She wasn’t expecting this. A full-sized tennis court within the grand mansion. The court held freshly painted court-lines over a polished clay flooring. The walls were still the elaborate and lavish walls from the foyer. With large paintings done in a Renaissance- style, the entire room felt less like a gym and more like an art piece.

There was the fairest socialite of the Kim family. Kim Yeosang, star athlete and top tennis player on this side of the continent. He was dressed in an expensive-looking lounge-wear, something all black and sleek even if it was meant to exercise in. He was thwacking tennis balls, custom ones judging by their unique black color.

He grunted as he swung his racket harder, the ball darting back across the court. Multiple of their servants, men in all-white ball boy attire stood holding their own rackets. They were no help with keeping the ball in play, diving and jumping only to miss the tennis ball by great lengths. Another servant, a butler of sorts judging by how he was dressed in a black suit, would throw one ball after another towards Yeosang.

He wasn’t even breaking a sweat, his perfect hair remaining in place as he swung and hit each ball with ease. A record player played off in the corner; some extravagant big band tune as he huffed and puffed.

“Mr. Kang,” called the butler with her. “You have a visitor.”

Mr. Kang was Yeosang? Did they all have different last names than Kim?

She shifted her hands in one another as she waited. He hadn’t heard judging by how he continued to hit each ball tossed his way.

The butler blinked a few times before swallowing and calling, louder this time. “Mr. Kang.”

Thwack. Hit. Thud. Thwack. Hit. Thud.

The loud saxophone on the record belted out brashly in a dance-tune.

“Mr Kang!” He called the loudest.

Yeosang turned fast, grasping his racket tight and striking a ball their way. Ducking fast, she dodged the bullet-fast ball, her hands holding her cloche hat close to her head as she did so. Remaining squatting, she looked up at Yeosang who stood with an agape mouth.

He snapped a finger in the direction of the record player and off its needle was tugged with a loud record-scratch screech.

“Miss YN,” Yeosang breathed out, his deep voice surprised. “Sweetheart.”

“Hello,” she greeted, still crouched. “Yeosangie.”

He hurried forward, long strides with a purpose as he helped her up.

“I’m sorry; I wasn’t expecting you.” He babbled. In fact, he almost looked nervous. His cheeks dusted a soft pink that she hadn’t seen before. “Are you alright? You weren’t hit, were you?”

His hand not holding a racket cupped her cheek, his fingers were warm from gripping the racket.

She shook her head. “No, no, I’m okay. I promise.”

“I didn’t know you were here,” he admitted. “When did you arrive?”

“I don’t blame you. Wooyoung stole me away,” she revealed. “I fell asleep and well… apparently, he got caught up in a meeting of some sorts. He sent me your way.”

She bent at the knee, curtsying just a bit. He blinked at the information before letting out a small laugh, ‘ha-het’.

“Of course, he would,” he said. There’s a soft lull as he glanced about. Uncertainty. Nervous. It was a strange aura about him; he shifted on his feet.

“This place is much nicer than the outdoor court; I’m happy you can practice in warmth,” she told him.

Yeosang nodded. “I’d be lost without my sport; I’m thankful Hongjoong built this for me.”

She knew the feeling; she couldn’t imagine life without dancing. Maybe she’s be a seamstress like her mother but the passion in her life would be gone. This Hongjoong seemed more and more interesting. He helped Wooyoung and San in a hard time; he made this court for Yeosang. He seemed kind.

“I interrupted your practice; I can go…” she offered after a moment.

“No!” Yeosang was quick to interrupt. His hand rose, a slight tremor to his phalanges as he reacted. “No, please, Miss YN. Stay. I’m—forgive me, your appearance has me speechless. We don’t have company often, and I don’t entertain here.”

She was clearly invading his safe space and she felt uncomfortable. He felt uncomfortable – even if he was pleading with her to stay.

“No need to entertain me,” she reassured him, leaning in as if it was a secret between them. “Its just me. I can go back to the study if you wish.” She wanted his shoulders to relax for his tense attitude to lighten. He offered a tight-lipped smile.

“I don’t wish that. I… am happy to see you, you know.”

So, she instead leaned into what he adored.

“Teach me then?” she asked softly, glancing towards his racket resting by his side.

His surprise wasn’t masked in any way. His eyes widened and his mouth forming a sweet ‘o’.

“You want to learn?” he asked.

She smiled, nodding. “Be wary I am not a good shot like Yunho.”

It was a joke and at the same time a bitter reminder of her and Yunho’s introduction. She wasn’t quite convinced of his innocence especially with how brooding he appeared. She believed he wanted the best for Yeosang and the others. She wasn’t sure if she was in that.

Yeosang’s laugh was pure as he giggled; an honest thing that burst forth from his chest easily.

“Few are, sweetheart,” he chuckled, his hand going to curl around his lips to contain his giggles, before nodding. “Okay. We can play a little.”

He glanced over at a butler, nodding at them with a silent command. A butler left and returned with a new racket, a carbon-copy of the dark black racket that Yeosang held. 

-

They played for a while; Yeosang clearly was holding himself back, but the grin on his face was adorable and eased her conscience. He enjoyed sharing his hobby.

“Swing more like this, sweetheart,” he instructed, showing how to swing once more.

YN repeated it and she could see the conflict in his brown eyes. “That wasn’t it, was it?” she laughed openly.

Yeosang giggled and shook his head honestly. He crept forward hopping over the net like it was second-nature. He approached her with a confidence she couldn’t help but lean into. He seemed so in his nature here. Like she was on the stage. She was happy to let him puppeteer her around to see his smile. He reached for her arm carefully, mindful of her as he instructed how to hold her racket just so.

He was so close she could feel the heat of his sweat, the faint smell of musk and herbal-tea of his cologne, the press of his body against her back. He shifted her arms this way and that to show her the proper swinging technique.

“Like that,” he breathed into her ear. “Got it?”

His voice was a delicate thing, not boisterous like Wooyoung’s. It had a masculine rumble against her ear that she couldn’t hold back a shiver. He smiled, the ghost of it brushing against her skin.

“Yeah,” she replied.

He pressed a kiss to her ear before nodding towards a butler who had a ball in his hand.

He tossed it towards her and, with Yeosang’s aid, they both whacked it towards a wall that had better days. It looked like Yeosang used it for practice often; its drywall had dents and discoloration in its surface.

“The protégé and the prodigy,” a voice commented.

YN chirped out a surprised warble while Yeosang was quick to whack the tennis ball that was bouncing back towards them in the voice’s direction. Yunho, standing nearby with his hands tucked into his pockets, was quick to react. A singular hand raised to grapple the tennis ball, catching it mid-air and shocking YN.

“Good shot,” he teased Yeosang before tossing the tennis ball aside and shaking out his hand. It was a hard hit. Yeosang never pulled back his strength.

Yeosang laughed under his breath, glancing at the distance made between him and YN now. His gaze felt sharp for a moment before it settled into a sort of mask of politeness once more. He smiled at his elder.

“Hello again darling,” Yunho greeted as he walked further onto the court.

His smile was smoldering and she couldn’t help but enjoy the flare of excitement at his attention. Yeosang nearby pouted.

“When did you get here?” he asked before YN was able to greet the man.

“A while ago.” Yunho admitted. “I was asked to find our little dancer. She was gone from the study.”

“She’s with me,” Yeosang retorted wittily. Almost coyly. As if that was it and Yunho could go. Petulant 

“I see that. Good game?”

YN’s brow tilted in exasperation. Her arms ached; she had sweated through her warm clothes by now. But she couldn’t help but see how glowing Yeosang was as he swung his racket over his shoulders.

“You’re a fast learner,” Yeosang complimented, glancing her way.

“I’m not as strong of a hitter though. Critique is something I’m familiar with; no need to be soft,” she teased, glancing at Yeosang and then Yunho. “My training doesn’t focus on the upper body as much as a tennis player’s regimen.”

“No, they don’t,” Yunho commented, gaze flickering to the sneak peek of her ankles before he locked eyes with her once more. He smiled coyly, charming. He was a confident creature she had to admit.

She shifted her hands to hold the racket in front of her.

“Were you in the meeting?” she asked simply.

Yunho’s brows flickered, a twitch of his features as he glanced to Yeosang. The younger’s gaze flashed to a particular butler – the one that led YN in earlier. The elder Kim smiled at YN then.

“Yes.” He answered. “It was informative.”

“Was Hongjoong there?” she asked curiously.

His smile felt sharper but he replied,” Yes.”

It was simple, cut off, no additional information to be found. Her fingers curled tighter around the racket. She suddenly remembered Jongho’s advice. They liked bold but not too bold. Yeosang, ever adaptable and versatile in any situation, nodded at Yunho with his chin.

“Play a round?” he asked.

Yunho looked tempted, she admitted. His gaze crawled over her carefully before he agreed. “Sure.”

There was a palpable excitement in Yeosang as he giggled. Yunho’s smile turned fonder the more it lingered, the sharp lines fading into devoted adoration. It was interesting. The man shed his jacket and rolled up crisp-white sleeves.

“You’ll have proper competition,” YN told Yeosang, chuckling. She walked to the sidelines, past Yunho and handed him her racket. He took it, his fingers grazing hers. “Thank you, darling.” It was soft, said to just her. A wave of his minty breath caressed her cheeks.

She swallowed at the way his eyes burned. He was so intense. She glanced away, and she heard Yunho chuckle lowly.

“You’ll see Yeosang has no match, however. He’s too skilled.”

“Hyung,” the younger’s warm tone was flattered, bashful.

Yunho winked and YN was shocked to see such a tease.

Their game started up and it was easy to see their comfortability. Their skilled swings were forceful and sharp; the thwack of the ball against the court almost sounded dangerous. Watching them play was entertaining as it was indulgent. She got to look Yunho up and down, properly.

His shined shoes squeaked against the clay floor; his tailored pants swished around his long legs; the vest he wore only emphasized his lean waist. There was sinewy, flexing muscles visible from the white of his shirt, bulging when he swung. The sharp look on his face only grew more sharp as he played, a look of focus coming over him. A bite of his lip.

He was attractive.

But, despite his hard work, Yeosang was better. There was a whack of the racket and the ball would hit just outside of Yunho’s long arms’ reach. One point, then two. Before he racked up enough points for game.

“I win,” Yeosang declared, triumphantly.

Yunho was huffing. “Congratulations. Well done.” He complimented, a hand raising to wipe at his forehead.

YN from the sidelines applauded.

“Good game, both of you – Yunho, you could compete if you wanted to!” she complimented. It was true. He held his own quite well, better than her and better than some competitors of Yeosang’s, too.

“You’re sweet, darling,” he purred before he winked at her.

Her cheeks flushed and he laughed lightly, the sound sweet to her ears.

“No performance today? Strange.” he asked, accepting a towel from a butler. He wiped at his sweatied brow. His gaze flashed to the butler who had led her to the room earlier, shoving the racket into his arms.

“Don’t get her paranoid,” Yeosang spoke next, speaking over Yunho’s whisper to the butler who paled. “This is your day off, sweetheart.”

How did he know her schedule so well, she wondered? Perhaps Wooyoung or Mingi had told him? It was kind of him to try to reassure her nonetheless.

It made her chuckle lightly even as she glanced between the frightened butler, Yunho, and finally Yeosang. He smiled at her, and she couldn’t help but return that look.

“It is,” she confirmed.  “This Saturday is the last show; we’ve reduced our schedule in preparation.” It was a strange thing to do. In the past, they’d be working harder and harder ‘til the last show; now, it was all about orchestrated demand.

“Will you attend?” she asked Yeosang before glancing over at Yunho. The butler was gone, left the room in the short span of her talking to Yeosang. “Will you?” she added.

Yunho’s dark eyes lit up with something she couldn’t tell.

“You’d like me there?” he queried. Why was everything he did a challenge, a tease. It made her stomach twist.

“I would like both of you there,” she admitted. “If you can make it?”

“Anything for you.” Yeosang promised, reaching out to cup the back of her head and place a kiss to her cheek.

-

Halazia. There were more Halazia products in the market. YN had never heard of this brand ‘til it was consuming their world. Canned goods now bore the branding of Halazia, a sort of hourglass symbol with the name Halazia Company beneath its image, in its metal. Crates had a painted version of this symbol.

There were construction sites popping up with the banners of ‘Sponsored by Halazia Company’ written across their fabrics. Old buildings being renovated; new buildings being constructed; current buildings being invaded. The factory her mother even worked in now bore a new name: ‘Halazia Textiles.’

-

It was the last show.... (hi! this part was too long for tumblr’s word count rules, so it has been split! please check out the rest of part 5, here! thanks; sorry tumblr is weird lol)

[gremlin-girly]

Mine

Part of the 20s challenge

Pairing: Alpha!James Mace x Omega!reader (grumpy Mace + sweet shy reader)

Quote: "Welp... looks like this is it. How do you wanna do this?"

Trope: A/B/O + grumpy x Sunshine

Tags/warnings: angsty fluffiness,, this is set up, reader is trying to win him over

Not beta'd. I do not give permission for my work to be translated, reposted, copied or put through an AI machine.

Summary: Science has paved the way for mates to find each other by studying scents. However, this has led to mates being forced together as soon as possible to help with the declining birthrate, economy and housing.

That doesn't mean Mace has to like it.

A/N: you know. I thought when I came to tumblr I would never write an A/B/O fic and here we are. It took seven months to break me. You win this round Tumblr.

A/N 2: I've accidentally made an AU. So I've split this fic into two parts :)

20s Masterlist | Masterlist | Neighbourhood AU

"Welp... looks like this is it. How do you wanna do this?"

Mace made an uncertain grumble looking up at the house he'd been sent to. Government initiatives, threats of fines, loss of work - effecting omegas more than anyone else. All because some scientist made a breakthrough on scents.

At least they helped to pay for new housing. He didn't like being here. He wanted to be at home. In work. Not with some omega he didn't even choose.

He doubted that this whole scent breakthrough was true. A sudden scientific breakthrough? Please. He knew they took time and study. Which meant it was either faked or they'd been sitting on it for years. Which was the bigger conspiracy?

Declining birth rates were one thing but shipping unbonded omegas across the country to an alpha they'd never met, in the hopes of creating a baby boom was downright disgusting. Mace shuddered. Not that alphas had much of a choice either.

His name, bloodwork, medical files, you name it were in the NASA database. A government database. Any alpha that was single or unbonded or matched against their will and some, like Mace, had been moved from his home to meet his new omega in a newly built cul-de-sac of town homes. It was an initiative and incentive - a big three bedroom home, large kitchen and garden... the only thing it was missing was the white picket fence.

He knew what some alphas were like. He knew omegas didn't have a lot of say about what happened to them but still. Surely someone, somewhere, had to know this whole thing was wrong.

Mace realises you're waiting on him to respond and he sighs. "May as well get moved in. You can pick the room you like most."

You nod. "I've checked some of the brochures. Apparently the beach is only a forty minute drive away. We could-"

"You can go on your own time." Mace huffs, picking up a moving box. You seemed sweet enough with your big, pretty eyes that followed his every movement but you were also a stranger and seemingly okay with this new incentive to have him... Mace frowns the thought away.

"Okay." You say quietly, picking up one of your boxes and tailing him inside the house.

And so begins your new life together.

Mace had told you in no uncertain terms that you would not be sleeping in the same room. That hurt; you were supposed to be true mates. But! You supposed he needed time to adjust and get to know you, so it eased the ache in your heart just a tad.

Mace had been kind enough to let you choose which of the three bedrooms you wanted for yourself first. You didn't have many belongings as you'd come from a small government-funded apartment, so it made sense for you to take the smallest bedroom in your mind.

The bedroom was unpainted but the bed Mace had ordered for you was already set up and made. Your heart fluttered. You knew it. Your alpha was just a grump. He would have to warm up to you and you would do everything in your power to win him over.

You brought your belongings up stairs to your new room, mentally mapping what furniture you'd like to squeeze in, if you'd like a carpet or rug. You're in a daydream when you wander into the kitchen and spot Mace, leaning against the counter with his arms folded, looking at his feet with a frown.

His biceps are thick and they strain as he crosses them and you swallow thickly before turning your focus to the cupboards in search of glasses.

"Want a water?" You ask, finding the glasses on your third attempt and tugging out two.

"Yeah. Thanks." He grumbles and you can feel his eyes on you as you fill the glasses and you suppress a shiver. When you pass him the glass of water, your fingers brush his and it feels electric. The airs on your arms stand on end and warmth blossoms in your chest; you want to chirp and brush your lips against his.

But you don't.

You want to give him time. You don't realise that Mace can tell by your body language, and by your small pout, that you're trying not to overstep; and he appreciates it greatly. Even though he's not thoroughly convinced you're doing it for the right reasons.

"We'll order take out tonight." He says as you sip your water. "We'll have a busy few weeks getting...settled. I have a work deadline too, so..."

He trails and you nod. His work was important to him. You'd asked about it on the drive to the new home.

The rest of the day was spent unpacking until food was delivered and you both sat in a slightly uncomfortable silence as a random movie you'd picked sounded in the background of your eating. You couldn't remember the last time you tasted food like this. You'd been eating what you could at your apartment, never really being able to afford take out.

It's why you signed up to the Match Mate programme. Finding your mate was a childhood dream of yours but the handsome allowance the government offered anyone that signed up had won you over. You wondered if Mace should know that about you. That you weren't entirely doe-eyed and naieve. But he seemed indifferent towards you right now and if that changed; was there any point in telling him?

The first week with Mace flies by. Between unpacking and daydreaming of decorating such a large house, you'd been scoping out the area you lived in.

First, you'd made the rounds to the neighbours. Most of the homes were either empty or awaiting new residents but thankfully some were already occupied. Directly opposite your home was another couple who'd signed up for the program; one female alpha and her male omega who followed behind her like a lost puppy.

"Hi," you'd greeted when you'd spotted them getting their mail. "I'm Y/N I just moved in across the street with my alpha Mace."

The alpha female grins at you and gives her name before introducing her mate. "My shadow here is Jake."

Jake, a blond haired omega with round glasses and a goatee beams. You're grateful that he's not in the same position you are with your alpha. You exchange numbers and Jake informs you that, while the community is currently small, there is a community centre fifteen minutes down the street opposite the park where the omegas meet for coffee mornings on occasion.

"There's only four of us so far. Alphas have their own, of course but..." he checks to make sure his alpha isn't paying attention and lowers his voice. "You know what they can be like."

You laugh and have to agree before saying your goodbyes and moving on to the next house. Thankfully, your new neighbours had told you which were occupied and which weren't so it had made your journey easier.

The next neighbour was a family pack, who'd greeted you hurriedly as they ushered kids into the car on the drive.

The other occupied house, two doors up from your home on the same side of the street had two fancy cars in the drive. You almost rapped on the face of the omega at the door as he flung it open, clearly in the middle of storming out of the house.

He glowered, growled, and continued on past you as an alpha woman appeared with another alpha, this time a man, behind her.

"Ransom! Wait!"

You stood very awkwardly at the bottom of the steps as the omega now known as Ransom fumed his way down the street.

"Um, I should-"

Both alphas turn their gaze to you and you shrink immediately before the woman sighs and gives you a weary smile. Clearly, this is a normal occurrence for her.

"Are you the new neighbour?" She asks softly and you nod your head wide eyed. The man behind her scoffs.

"Cute." He comments before shuffling out the door. "I'll go get Ranny boy."

"Lloyd-" The alpha woman sighs when the other man gets into one of the cars, slamming the door shut before she can finish her sentence. She sighs again, giving you an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, you seem to have caught us at a bad time."

"I... it's okay. I'm sorry for..." you don't really know what your sorry for, other than causing her unnecessary embarassment but she does look like she's about to cry. "Do you want to come on and walk with me? I'm trying to find my way around."

She blinks at you and her sad gaze cracks a smile. "Sure."

You had texted Mace you'd be gone and he'd only given you a thumbs up in response. Your new friend, who told you to call her Cookie, walked you to some of the more important places that Jake had mentioned like the grocery store, community centre and the doctor's office.

You could tell she was clearly affected by whatever had happened between her and the two men that had disappeared but you didn't want to pry. Cookie bought you a coffee and apologised for what felt like the fifth time for Ransom's behaviour.

"I just... that jealous streak." She shakes her head. "I dont know what I'm going to do."

"That doesn't sound great." You concede, sipping your latte. "I'm sorry I can't be of more help."

"It's fine." She waves a hand dismissively and then groans. "God, it's not even your first week here and I'm unloading my problems onto you. Sorry. Ignore me."

You shake your head with a reassuring smile. "I promise it's okay. It's a nice distraction."

She snorts. "Not all sunshine and rainbows at your neck of the woods either?"

You look at your feet as you walk along the cement. "My alpha is... grumpy." You start carefully. "I'm not pushy and it's still early days, but he doesn't seem to want anything to do with me."

Cookie raises her eyebrow at you before puffing a breath. "I've heard that with this program that it's a... difficult adjustment for both. Being ripped away from friends and family, moving is stressful enough without all of that. Plus... you're still a stranger to him."

Cookie looks sympathetic, slowing to a stop outside her home. "You made the right choice by giving him space." She says, before looking thoughtful. "Try making him dinner or something. That sometimes works with Ran."

You nod and grin appreciatively. "Thank you! I will. And let me know how it goes with Ran and Lloyd."

Cookie looks deflated but still manages a smile. "Thank you, Sunshine. Welcome to the neighbourhood."

The following morning you surprise Mace with breakfast. You'd woken up early to make pancakes with compote and cream, Cookie had happily shared Ransom's recipe with you the night before.

When Mace appears, he looks...indifferent. You'd hoped he'd look surprised but he raked his hand through his long hair and eyed the mess of the kitchen.

"Been busy?" He asks coolly. You offer up a shy smile and Mace thinks the Earth stands still when you speak.

"I made you breakfast." You gesture to the plate piled high with pancakes, compote and a very large dollop of whipped cream.

Mace's heart is racing. His stomach feels funny; he's hungry and feels like he might throw up. God, when did he last have homemade pancakes?

He moves towards the chair and sits down, taking the fork to skewer some pancake. He contains a sigh of delight as the pancake dances on his tongue; thick, fluffy syrupy goodness with the tang of the compote to offset the sweetness. It's perfect.

He's aware that you're hovering and peeks up. "Where's your food?" He grumbles, shoving pancake into his mouth. "We can sit together."

"I haven't made it yet." You say simply with a shrug. "Just in case you didn't like the pancakes and I needed to make something else."

Mace stops eating immediately. "What-wh- ugh." He snaps before reigning in his temper. You were being too nice. Too sweet. Too damn perfect.

"Come here," he gestured to the seat beside him and you obeyed, taking a seat next to him. You looked so incredibly cute that, under different circumstances, Mace probably would have smothered you with kisses, but seeing your worried expression - he sighed instead. Annoyance bubbled again, but he swallowed it down. He knew he had to make an effort too. He picked up some pancake and compote onto his fork, and held it out to you, just under your nose.

You blink at the fork then at him before taking a tentative bite. You hum in delight and chew the delicious concoction you'd made and Mace allows for a ghost of a smile to appear on his lips. You, on the other hand, are enjoying the closeness he'd granted you. A small win.

"We can share. Then if you're still hungry, make yourself a snack." He tells you, taking another forkful. "These are good by the way. Thank you."

The way your eyes sparkled back at him, the rosyness of your cheeks, made his heart stammer for a moment.

You were becoming harder and harder to resist each with each day that passed.

Part 1 End

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[1000sunnygo]

About Monet...

Her case always stood out to me like a sore thumb because it was the FIRST time a woman in One Piece died onscreen, in real-time. She was not worse than Luffy's other enemies (or allies), she's not a death-penalty-deserving irredeemable and hateable scumbag like Orochi (or Vergo). Even Ceaser is now roaming free. Monet is similar to Baby 5 in many ways, but unlucky as hell. Being a character from a manga where the author tends to give almost everyone a second chance with life, she got none.

Oda said in SBS that Monet and Sugar were rescued from a terrible living condition. The sisters weren't from a poverty-stricken background like Baby 5, at least not initially. In the doodle Oda drew of Monet's childhood self, she had neat clothes and a pair of glasses, and looked like a nerd with her book about birds.

Remember a certain nerd who "seemed" to have a decent childhood in those childhood doodles, holding a dissected frog? It's possible that Monet's life crashed down in a similar manner, maybe at an older age, or maybe her experience with exploitation and betrayal pre-rescue went on for a longer duration. She was 17 when Doffy found her.

Monet is the only character who bluntly tried to flirt with Law. It was a split second thing but what Monet was to Law was not what Law was to Monet. Keep in mind that during the entirety of Punk Hazard, Monet was practically at Law's mercy. There was a gaping hole in her chest the entire time. She seemed - probably the most carefree one has ever seemed with their heart gone, courtesy of Law. It's not like she had no fear of death, Zoro could paralyze her with it. I think it never for once crossed her mind that Law might take advantage of her biggest vulnerability. Similar to how she betted Zoro wouldn't kill a woman, Monet probably held some sort of belief about Law. Ironically she wasn't wrong about Zoro (who indeed went easy on her), but his lesson to her about a cornered tiger became relevant in a roundabout way. She was wrong to assume her surgeon's sympathy.

Unlike Law who had a clear plan on how to retrieve his own heart from Ceaser, Monet seemed to have none on how to get hers from Law. Maybe Monet underwent the surgery for the ease of becoming a spy, but pretty sure that she just wanted to be a bird and utility thoughts came second. Of course, she had to keep Doflamingo informed about Law's activities, who was blissfully unaware of the latter's revenge plan...

Judging from her weakness to men praising her, maybe she had her own quest for love and Doffy, a women-lover who considered Law to be his reflection, expected things to naturally roll out between Law and Monet and subsequently bait Law to spill his true intentions? We all know in spite of harboring a detailed plan about each other for 13 years, Law and Doffy knew jack about what the other person was truly like.

I can't definitively say that Monet had a thing for Law, maybe it was something she subconsciously considered. But pretty sure that if there's someone who had a good chance of releasing her from Doflamingo's control, it was Law. True that she was a spy and her loyalty ran deep. But the children who were rescued by Doffy in harsh condition were all yearning for love. We've seen two cases where a Donquixote family member loosened their ties to Doffy when they found someone else who promised true and unconditional care. It's possible that with Monet it would've been the same.

Unfortunately, Law had no obligation to 'rescue' her - an enemy, and Oda had no obligation to keep Law clean of this unusually cruel and unremorsed action because Law is not a Straw hat. A man who was poisoned as a child being merciful to a person directly involved in poisoning children wouldn't have come off as a great writing anyway. Leave it to the mushroom hat doctor to have terrible onscreen chemistry with women.

[calmcoldevening]

You had a bad day [Michael Myers x reader]

You had a bad day, a really bad day. It was cloudy outside, just like you're feeling at the moment. You had a headache after your boss's hour-long screams about how you did the job wrong; you got soaked in the cold rain; besides, your phone was dead.

Finally, you cross the threshold of your house, sighing in amazement. Dirty shoes remain at the doorstep while you slowly walk towards your room, simultaneously pulling off clothes stuck to your body. You climb onto the bed, burrowing into the blanket, and quietly sob. It was disgusting in my heart. It didn't help that you wanted comfort so damn much, but you were alone in the house. You didn't know where Michael was or how he was. He just wasn't there. He had been home quite rarely lately, after all, Halloween had passed not so long ago and Michael was still continuing his 'work'. But you missed him now. You wanted his clumsy, rough, but so warm hugs.

Michael wasn't the best guy. He was always silent, only occasionally nodding or shaking his head in denial, but he never spoke. Michael was never the first to make contact, but only stood in the doorway, looking at you through the black holes of his mask in mute expectation. He always did that when he was hungry.

And yet now you wanted to be the one who was looked after, cared for and loved. You sobbed softly, burying your nose in the cool fabric of the blanket. I wanted to disappear so that it would all be over.

After a good half hour, when you were already on the verge between sleeping and waking, you felt a pair of rough hands on your waist, squeezing your tender flesh. You instinctively flinched at someone else's touch. Your mind was wandering in terror. Exactly until you heard the familiar heavy breathing on the other side of the latex. Michael. It was your Michael. A stone fell from your soul when you breathed a sigh of relief, allowing yourself to relax. All this happened in a split second, when you finally realized that the guy initiated the touch himself. He was hugging you.

"Michael?" You ask quietly. Your tired voice breaks the tense silence like a knife. The man frowns, pulling you closer to him. He doesn't like your voice, the mood you're talking to right now. You were usually gentle and said his name with such love and care that his dead heart melted and seemed to start beating again. In those moments, he wasn't a Boogeyman, he was Michael. Your Michael. But now your voice was quiet, as if you were speaking with some kind of pain. Michael didn't like it. His broad palm began to stroke your stomach with amazing tenderness, while the nose of his mask gently rubbed against your bare neck. Like a kitten.

Transparent droplets of tears appear in your eyes, slowly flowing down your pale cheeks. It seemed that the whole weight of the last few years fell on your shoulders in an instant. You're shaking. The pain in your temples and aching heart make you cry like a little child. Michael tenses up. In an instant, you are turned over and you find yourself with your face pressed against Myers' chest, his chin on top of your head. His hands are holding you to him with a bit of desperation, stroking your back. You grab the fabric of his jumpsuit, so rough and old, like a lifebuoy, burrowing into his body in search of peace and relief. Your eyes are burning with tears, and your chest can't take a full breath of air.

"..it's not my fault.. However," you whisper softly, trying to keep the remnants of your composure, "It wasn't my job.. but the director thought otherwise. He.. He yelled at me. Strongly.. he was so angry, although my colleague is to blame.."

Michael's measured movements gradually slow down until his big hand leaves your back, leaving this place to be torn apart by the cold of the room. But then the loud breathing stops, and after it you feel Michael leaning back, putting something on the bedside table. The next moment, a pair of cracked, dry lips touches your forehead, leaving a rough but so familiar kiss on your skin. You don't dare to look up, but your sobs gradually slow down, turning into muffled sobs. Now the man's hand finds your place on your cheek, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. He is surprisingly gentle, as if you are a real crystal figurine made of pure glass.

You are his heart. Michael had never known what love or caring was before. His childhood and youth in a psychiatric hospital were filled with pain and alienation, from which he learned to hide from the rest of the world behind a solid mask of indifference, behind the mask of a monster. And yet, with you, he wanted to be real. It was difficult, and Michael didn't always know how to behave. But now, seeing you crying, something inside Michael tightened painfully, making him frown and clench his teeth. He didn't know why he was angry and didn't know why he felt that way. The only thing Michael was sure of was that he wanted to punch the face of the one who made you cry.

Finally, you calm down, letting out a nervous sigh from your lungs. Michael tenses up for a moment, but his heart skips a beat when he sees you visibly relax in his arms.. Are you happy? His stroking resumes when he wordlessly tries to persuade you to sleep. You obey, snuggling into his chest and closing your eyes. The man's gaze softens, his lips seem to twitch in a slight hint of a smile.

This will be one of those rare occasions when Michael stays with you all night. But he definitely thinks he should visit your boss the next night.

I just needed a little comfort from my boy. Have a good day ♡⁠