#ended up becoming a different piece of writing than I first thought

[noxxha]

Uchiha Madara - A man defined by love, hope and despair

I am all for devoted siblings that love one another - that would go through metaphorical and a literal hell for one another - but that selfsame devotion - when twisted to its opposite, is just as compelling to explore and untangle so that you can watch a unhealthy dynamic/toxic (how I loathe that word) turn healthy.

Do not misunderstand, I headcanon that Madara and Izuna had a mutual respect for one another, that they cared and adored one another with an intensity only few relationships manage. They loved one another so deeply that no one could measure it. Their relationship was one of give and take in equal measure.

But it got me thinking about the possibility of a darker tone to this very dynamic (even if just in a few instances and not their entire relationship being unhealthy).

Hashirama mentions that Madara is “indecisive”. While it is used more as a form humour, Madara’s “push and pull” dynamic is a dance that can go on for a long time should both parties participate in that dynamic. He showcases the most fundamental of desires in humans at that point, though; connection. But, as most who have been hurt one way or another, he cannot handle it at the same time and it makes him conflicted.

That indecisiveness is probably not without merit (if it’s not rooted in projection of Hashirama’s issues onto Madara, that is).

Madara most likely considered every possible angle, and how best to minimize the chances of his last brother perishing - to the detriment of the clan. Izuna had to constantly reassure his brother that he would survive and keep on watching over him - have his back as they say, quite literally. They would remain together, as they always had.

Despite seeing Izuna as someone overflowing with talent - and as his equal on the battlefield in many aspects - it would not surprise me if a part - tiny as it is - of Madara would prefer to keep Izuna away from the battlefield altogether - to Izuna’s obvious disagreement. Many a argument had probably been heard when both brothers lashed out at one another from emotions boiling over.

The constant war and bloodshed probably taught Madara early the importance (and the impossibility) of control. He, most likely, turned to his siblings to find reassurance in this world that was so unpredictable, and cruel, in that any of his siblings could perish at any moment. And perish they did. Only Izuna reached adulthood, and he died terribly young even then, aged merely 24.

The tragedy of Madara - what broke him so completely and changed him into someone no one, not even Hashirama, could recognize - was the death of his beloved brother. The remaining member of his family that once was a family of seven.

Being born with many siblings was the norm during the Warring States Era. Becoming attached and fond of these very siblings was probably - whether it was said or implied in any which way - frowned upon (due to the unpredictable lives they lived as shinobi).

Or, as in the case of the Uchiha clan; their greatest strength was also their greatest weakness (literally).

As much as bonds have the ability to shape us into the best version of ourselves, they also have the capability to cause terrible distress and suffering, and Madara is one - of many - examples of having loved and lost.

If we go deeper and see beyond the love and adoration an older brother held for his younger one, what do we find?

A man becoming unhinged.

But why?

Because he lost the one thing/person he was living for.

A bold claim to make, no? But realistically Madara was an unhinged, unstable person - due to his personality and his environment shaping him as such. He was undeniably kind and compassionate as well - but in the end those very traits would end up destroying his already fragile and declining mental health.

Izuna represented more to Madara than merely family; he was everything to him. Everything began and ended with Izuna.

Granted, Hashirama never knew Itachi and his…’heroic deed(s)’ in Konoha’s name, but he did mention that Madara’s love (perhaps/probably) overshadowed the love (and that label is up for debate in all honesty) Itachi held for Sasuke.

There is even a lore reason that points to the fact just how deep Madara’s capacity for love was - for the pain and the darkness to claim him so completely; the Sharingan and, more importantly, the (Eternal) Mangekyō Sharingan.

Madara’s dream of a peaceful world had everything to do with Izuna. That is adorable, it is beautiful, but it is also a receipt for disaster - and we are, indeed, shown the consequences of the loss of a brother held so dear (albeit indirectly because we got everything told through Hashirama’s perspective).

Madara pinned his entire existence, his reason for fighting and perpetuating this endless cycle of violence - in the hope to create peace - onto one single thing. Even worse, that thing was a human he adored and loved more than his own life.

Humans are fickle. Our loved ones are loved as much as they are resented at times. Realistically Madara and Izuna would not be an exception to that ambivalence - no matter how close their bond. Paradoxically enough that closeness would probably have caused terrible, terrible friction from time to time. From control issues, feeling smothered and not appreciated, to resentment and anger.

The look of a man about to lose everything

Madara had dreams, powerful ones at that, but they hinged on the condition that Izuna was there to experience them with him - together.

“If it’s you I can go in peace…”

“I have not a single brother left. I have nothing to protect”

“You took even my last brother from me…”

If that is not someone being heartbroken and suicidal I don’t know what is…

And what happens once he loses his beloved brother?

Has to watch him become another sacrifice like their other three siblings, like their family and friends?

His entire world crumbles.

Literally.

One can nearly say with certainty that Izuna held the clan together - held Madara together - as without their second-in-command, Uchiha defected to the Senju due to their lack of trust in Madara to protect them. While not the sole reason, it does say a lot if the power balance shifts in the favour of the Senju.

That is not to say that Madara is an incompetent leader; he just had his priorities backwards (in the eyes of everyone else, those who could not understand).

Izuna probably chided Madara - if with a tenderness not really befitting the situation, to easier reach the brother of his who was prone to defensiveness even with him - for his protectiveness. But as I mentioned before that tenderness, to slight exasperation, had to be a terrifying sight the moment it came from a place of genuine frustration and wrath.

With Izuna gone Madara was adrift in more ways than one. What had shaped his entire existence was the war and bloodshed, as well as his love for his family - and now he was alone in an unfamiliar territory, with a different political climate to adjust to and navigate.

However, Konoha was not Madara’s dream per se - it was Hashirama’s. The condition, to which he initially agreed to it, had been taken from him. While it was a beautiful sight to witness peace take form, it must have felt - if not entirely meaningless - hollow.

Out of desperation - to find a sense of comfort - he tried to repair his bond with Hashirama. But they were too different in their values at that point and it was a friendship that was one-sided. But it was the last hope Madara had.

While not entirely swallowed by despair just yet, resentment must have been festering in his heart. Nothing was turning out the way he had hoped. His clan was once and for all turning their back on him and spat so onto the sacrifices that were made for them.

The negotiations (if as such it can be called) between Iwagakure and Konoha (with Madara sent as the latter’s representative) shattered Madara’s last shred of hope in Hashirama and revealed the way Hashirama perceived ‘peace’.

Hashirama was not ushering them into an era of peace as they longed for in their boyhood. He was perpetrating their existing cycle of violence on a smaller, more calculated scale. Attempting to unite all villages under one name (Konoha), while disregarding that not all see their peace as the only path to peace, nor do all want to join their cause.

Disillusioned, Madara’s choice is clear and absolute. Izuna’s warning has come to pass.

As a witness to Tobirama’s rhetoric and beliefs (perhaps not just yet as extreme as they would become), Madara can only come to the conclusion that, the moment Tobirama takes over Hashirama’s heritage, his clan - the clan for which Izuna gave Madara his eyes, the clan he fought to keep safe through both a promise and as their leader - is doomed.

They resent each other; that is an undeniable fact. Tobirama is the reason Madara lost what was most dear to him, denting his fragile psyche and strengthening his distrust in this village where they - Uchiha and Senju - cannot coexist. Madara, however, backed himself into a corner the moment he gave his former friend the alternative to understand him and his pain, yet his heart - kind since a mere child - could not follow through with such cruelty.

With Hashirama sprouting lofty words and empty promises, Madara turns his back onto their dream once and for all.

In canon it is the deciphering of the modified - by black Zetsu - stone tablet that sends Madara’s psyche down the deep end once and for all. But, in all honesty, it had been enough if Madara lost Izuna, and his faith in a dream, that - in the end - was not even his.

A purely psychological angle (as in, no blob of darkness there to pull the strings) would have been more than enough for Madara to conclude that an extreme path to peace (and whether it is peace, or not, is another debate) was the only way to achieve lasting peace for humankind.

He saw, after all, with his own eyes that humanity was unable/unwilling to change its ways; whether in the era he grew up in, or after Konoha was built - conflicts remained. War still broke out in the form of the First Ninja War, then the Second Great Ninja War, then a third one even.

Nothing had changed.

Everyone had sacrificed themselves for naught. Konoha was built on the corpses of their kinsmen, and everyone pays for their safety in blood still.

If going by canon, it is - indeed - the modified stone tablet that does Madara’s psyche in and that is when despair swallows him whole.

If Konoha was Hashirama’s life’s work, so would Madara’s Eye of The Moon plan end up being his (quite literally even). The Eye of the Moon Plan was born from his despair at having lived a life where he had to lose love and hope.

He went above and beyond for the chess pieces to align.

And yet, despite going so far as he did for his plan, it was terribly…fortuitous in the end. Neither Nagato nor Obito held themselves to the script, and neither would have brought Madara back to life in the end.

But all that would not have mattered to Madara, as the moment he died, Izuna was there to finally welcome him home.

#madara uchiha #izuna uchiha #naruto analysis #long post #very long post #thoughts #ramblings #I love speculating about these two #a bit too much #siblings that adore one another is my weakness #there is so much I want to write still #ended up becoming a different piece of writing than I first thought #so many drafts…

[daisyvisions]

Change Your Mind - (l.jy)

➺ Pairing: fboy best friend!Juyeon x afab!reader

➺ Summary: You befriend your college’s resident fuckboy who’s been eager to get with you since day one. But after a rollercoaster of emotions between your friendship, he wants you more than you could ever imagine.

➺ Word Count: 4k (wow who is she?!)

➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), friends to lovers, mentions of partying, drinking alcohol, fuckboy tendencies (flirting, hookups, ghosting), lying to reader (at first), lots of kissing and making out, dry humping, oral (f! receiving), slight handjob and masturbation, unprotected sex (but he pulls out), aftercare, pet names (sweetheart, baby), a lovesick Juyeon

➺ A/N: I’m officially back from my break! Really wanted to take some time off and focus on things irl, can’t really say if the break helped bcos I was still stressed haha but anyway!This took me a while to finish up, felt incredibly rusty writing again but glad I was still able to do it 😭 Considering this as my late birthday greeting for Juyeon. Hope you enjoy this piece! Proofread once. Let me know if I missed anything!

➺ Network & Tag: @deoboyznet, and my girlies @aimeecarreros @snowflakewhispers @winterchimez

If anyone told you that you’d end up becoming best friends with one of the most sought out guys in your campus (and not to mention resident fuck boy), you would’ve laughed at their face. All your life you’ve tried to avoid befriending guys like Juyeon. A guy like him just generally gave you the ick.

You never understood how or why people would want to be friends with someone whose only objective is to get into girl’s pants and be praised for it. Not only that, but also playing with someone’s feelings and just dropping them at an instant was wrong on so many levels.

But here you are, lending him a helping hand while you two clean out his living room after throwing yet another one of his bi-weekly parties, which was usually code for “Please let me at least make out with someone tonight.”

It’s crazy how you consider him one of your bestest friends. In another world you both knew this friendship would never work out. You were both opposite of each other in so many ways!

So how did you even end up becoming friends with Juyeon?

Transferring to a different university in the middle of the semester was one of the worst things that could've happened to you. Not only did you have to adjust to a new set of lesson plans and navigate your way around campus, but you also had to sit alone during lunch since practically everyone already knew each other from freshman year and had their own set of cliques.

During your first week, you thought you could at least find a table you could sit with just by going up to the group you vibed with the most and ask politely. But you decided to just sit by yourself instead and avoid any embarrassing introductions. You refused to be known as the weird new girl (which you already felt like one to begin with.)

You tried to fight off the tears emerging from the corners of your eyes as you sat quietly in the corner of the cafeteria, slowly poking the food on your tray as you try to drown out the noise around you.

You wish you didn’t have to transfer and leave everything and everyone you knew behind. Yes, you can still call or text your friends, but you knew it was different than actually being with them on campus.

You were convinced you’d be alone for the rest of your years in college. No friends to hang out, laugh, or cry with. No one to go through the same struggles as you. No one to tell you that everything was going to be okay. You were definitely on your own until-

“Hey.” The voice suddenly snapping you out of your self-loathing as you look up and see probably one of the most handsome men you have ever seen in your life.

The way his eyes held so much love, how his smile could light up anyone’s day, and how his aura was something you never felt with anyone before. He was practically radiating sunshine to your already gloomy day. It almost felt too good to be true… Because what the hell was he doing here in front of you?

“…Hi?” You sit up straight as you try to subtly dab off the tears in your eyes.

“I couldn't help but notice you sitting here all alone.” The man gently says.

Great, the first thing he notices about you is how much of a loser you are. But before you could even say anything back he continues on.

“Would you like to come sit with us? We have some space for you at our table.” He slowly smiles at you. You hesitated at first, confused by the whole situation but quickly made up your mind.

“Uh… yeah, sure! If it’s not any trouble.” You shyly respond.

“Of course not! Can’t let a pretty thing like you be all alone on her first week here right?” He holds out his hand to you.

“How did you-”

“I’m Juyeon.” He interrupts you again. You tell him your name, your cheeks slowly warming up as your hand intertwines with his as he looks deeply into your eyes.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He smirks. You felt the butterflies raging within your stomach.

“So, let’s go?” He waits for your response, but you shyly nod your head instead as proper words get caught up in your throat. Grabbing his hand as you stand up and follow his lead.

You try not to make a fool out of yourself as you feel Juyeon’s hand rest on your lower back as you guides you through the sea of people. As you two are walking towards his table he leans close to your ear and whispers,

“We’re gonna be best friends, I promise.”

And ever since that day Juyeon really did keep his promise. He helped you catch up with some of the lesson plans you had, guided you around school, and always made sure to leave a space for you beside him during lunch.

You tried to wrap your brain around the idea of how someone like Juyeon just randomly entered your life and swept you off your feet. At first you felt like you were on cloud nine getting the most attention and almost boyfriend-like treatment from him. But as the weeks went by you soon discover that his reputation actually preceded him more than you thought.

You see, it was no secret that Juyeon was somewhat of a playboy. Well, somewhat was an understatement. During the first few weeks since you became friends he would walk you to class almost every time. In those moments you couldn’t understand why people would give you such weird looks or whisper to each other whenever you two would pass by.

Maybe it was because you stuck out like a sore thumb as the new girl? You decided not to mind it for a while, pushing down the thought that you were just overthinking all of this… that is until you accidentally learned about his reputation and the real reason why he approached you that day.

It was an accident. You were never meant to find out anything about Juyeon. But during a party that he brought you to, a certain loosed-lip drunk friend (Eric) decided to spill everything to you, down to every letter and detail imaginable.

To be honest, it didn’t bother you when you found out that Juyeon was indeed a fuck boy. You saw the signs as the weeks passed by.

The way he would flirt with someone while waiting for you to finish class, how the notifications on his phone would show a name of a different girl every week, and even the subtle touches he would leave on you which were definitely not considered friendly but not perverted either. What bothered you the most was finding out the reason why he even wanted to be friends with you.

“He’s been really working up to have his way with you, you know? And I mean who could blame him? Have you seen yourself? You’re so fucking hot-” Eric rambles on to you as he tries to lean his body against the wall to keep himself upright, slowly inching his way closer to you. You felt your blood boil in that moment, completely ignoring Eric’s advances.

How could Juyeon do this to you? Even after everything you shared with him about your life, your struggles, your secrets too? And to think you were starting to feel like he could be a really great friend to you. But this? Hell no. You were not about to let some handsome sleazy guy use you like that. Not in this or any lifetime.

You nearly crush the plastic red cup in your hand before storming out of the house, intentionally pushing past Juyeon’s shoulder in the way as he tries to approach you with the most concerned look you had ever seen on his face.

He ran after you that night. He even dropped on his knees begging for forgiveness in front of a crowd of drunk college people too. Over the top sure, but somehow you knew his apology wasn’t just a one and done thing.

And after the humiliating lecture you gave him as well as the list of promises he had said he will be doing in order to make up for his mistakes, you decided to give him another chance.

In return of accepting his apology, you offered to help him get out of his fuck boy tendencies and be his “guardian angel”. Juyeon was reluctant of the idea at first because it would mean he couldn’t be free to do as he pleased but he eventually gave in. He had to because well… He did owe you a lot for lying to you in the first place.

Somewhere in your mind you knew this could turn out to be a bad idea. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me, or however the saying goes. But Juyeon was different.

You knew somewhere in that deep conceited mind of his there was a version of him that was actually a good guy. A guy that can actually learn how to not fool around and maybe one day, find someone worth changing for.

You can tell it was a struggle for him at the beginning. But eventually he started to lessen the flirting, the hookups, the ghosting, and more.

Gone were the days where Juyeon had a line of women wrapped around his fingers (because they were too many of them to count). Dating was still a thing for him, but he had said and even showed you that he would take them seriously and not just move onto the next one as easily as he did before.

Eventually you realized over time that Juyeon turning over a new leaf was also becoming a struggle for you especially at parties when he would come up to you nearly drunk out of his mind, his subconscious would revert back to his old habits and he would act them all out on you.

His hands subtly snaking around your hips, your waist, how he would brush the hair off your neck and leave a warm kiss on shoulder. The way he would smile at you like a lovesick fool, never leaving your side as he attempts to drop his corny pickup lines.

Or the way he would jokingly confess how badly he wanted to kiss you. You knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind, that he was just being his old self. But it really did confuse you because sometimes it felt all too real.

Now you understood why someone could fall so easily for Juyeon. It was second nature to him.

You tried so hard not to give into his appetite especially in those moments. But it was becoming difficult each time since you the crush you had on him from the first day you met was screaming to be set free, desperate to overtake your heart and soul and just allow him to do as he pleased, no matter the consequences.

The many “what-if’s” that crossed your mind when you were alone in your room at night had plagued you constantly. Your walls were starting to crack and it was making you lose your self control around him.

“Maybe one little kiss wouldn’t hu-” No. You shouldn’t. The whole point of staying friends with Juyeon was to guide him to being a better person. It wasn’t about you or how you felt at all!

But… how bad could it be to become selfish just one moment in your life?

“Wow, I’m so tired.” Juyeon plops down on the sofa as you finish up collecting all the empty bottles and cups around the room. After the last bottle was thrown inside the trash bag you washed your hands and plopped right next to him.

You instantly close your eyes and let out a huge sigh of relief, showing the same exhaustion as he felt. As you stay silent and enjoy this quiet moment, Juyeon can’t help but just stare at you. He watches how your chest slowly moves up and down and tries to commit to memory the little details of your face.

You look so beautiful right now, he thinks to himself. As you always have since the first time he saw you. But he pushes down the feeling deep within his gut, having given up pursuing you a while back. But it doesn't hurt to look every once in a while right?

As soon as you open your eyes again, you catch him staring at you with a look in his eyes you can’t quite read. You chuckle at how silly he’s being and turn your body slightly to face him.

“What?” You ask.

“I-It’s nothing.” He shakes his head.

“C’mon, what is it? You can tell me.” You semi pout, and how can Juyeon say no to you?

“I was thinking-”

“Oh no he’s thinking.” You fake gasp and giggle as he playfully nudges your shoulder in return.

“It’s just- I still can’t believe how we ended up as friends despite everything, you know?” He smiles gently.

“Me too.” You respond, “To be honest, if I had known about your reputation before we met I would’ve rejected you that day.”

“Yeah?” Juyeon’s eyes grow wider as he scoots closer to you. He places his hand on your knee, making you become nervous all of a sudden. “And why is that?”

“W-well…” you feel a lump forming in your throat, the way his cologne invades your thoughts and has your head slowly spinning. Is it getting hot in here or is that just you?

“Because, guys like you just aren’t my type that’s all. And well-”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Juyeon interrupts you as he looks into your eyes. You nod in response.

“I haven't been with anyone else ever since that night you confronted me about my behavior.” He pauses for a moment. Dead silence filled the air as he waited for your response while you tried to grasp what he was trying to say.

“Huh? What about that girl you were with last week? Or the one you were texting?” You softly ask.

“I... I lied about them.” Juyeon looks away from you, afraid to look at your reaction. He looks up at the ceiling, pushing down any regret he’s feeling at the moment admitting the truth to you.

“But, why?” Your voice laced with concern.

“It felt wrong to be with those girls. To even think about kissing or touching them the way I would've back then, because…” He looks back at you, his hand on your knee now traveling up to your lap.

“…All I ever thought about in those moments was you.”

You felt your heart running a mile a minute. Eyes widening at his sudden confession.

“God you’re so beautiful it kills me inside.” he raises his hand and cups your jaw, thumb slowly stroking your cheek as his gaze turns into something more than just lust.

You subtly catch him quickly looking at your lips, your eyes nearly fluttering shut as he leans in closer. And with your lips just millimeters apart, he suddenly stops.

“But who am I kidding? I know you don’t see me that way-” Juyeon retracts his head, his face expressing a certain kind of sadness you can’t seem to properly label. You can feel your heart pounding in your ears as you watch him slowly slip away from you.

“Juyeon I-”

“It’s alright, I’m probably drunk. Just- forget what I said.” He shakes his head, but before he can attempt to get up from the couch, you grab his wrist. “No.” You sternly say.

Juyeon slowly sits back down on the couch and scoots really close to you, thighs pressing against one another. His eyes don’t leave yours, waiting for what you have to say or do.

“S-show me. Show me you mean it. Every word you just said.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to tell me that.” Juyeon lunges forward and wastes no time as he leans in to kiss you. His pillowy lips feeling like heaven as he guides your lips with his, both melting into one another like it was always meant to be.

As your arms start to wrap around his neck Juyeon pulls you in closer, his body slowly falls backwards onto the couch. His hands desperately grabbing your hips to make you straddle his lap.

Juyeon whimpers into your mouth as soon as his straining bulge rubs against your core. His member throbs harder as you begin to roll your hips subconsciously.

He’s fucked way too many times to count but for some reason, grinding yourself onto his crotch makes him feel like an untouched virgin all over again.

He swears he can burst inside his boxers any second now if you keep doing this to him, especially with the soft little moans coming out of your mouth that sound so sweet.

Juyeon pulls away from your lips and starts to kiss your neck, mapping out his kisses until he finds the spot that makes you melt into a puddle. He knows he’s found that spot as your moans become louder and drag on longer.

He starts to wrap his arms around your torso and without warning, he flips you both over, making you squeal as he giggles at your reaction. His eager hands waste no time to unbutton your jeans as he continues to leave marks on your neck. You slightly push him away as you feel him slowly sneaking one hand into your pants.

“Wait-” You grab his wrist before he goes any further.

“Do you want to stop?” He waits for your answer.

“No it’s not that.” Your eyes close for a moment as you catch your breath.

“It’s- well- It’s been a while I've done this. I- I might not be good for you.” Juyeon senses the worry in your eyes. He leans down to kiss the space between your eyebrows, his free hand caressing your cheek.

“Oh sweetheart… you’ll always be too good for me.” He smiles down at you. “You sure you still want this?” You nod your head instantly.

“Use your words baby, need to hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” His hand travels to your neck and gives it a soft squeeze. The act alone is enough to get you dizzy again.

“Want you- want you to touch me, please.” You look up at him so innocently.

Juyeon leans in to kiss you passionately once more, his tongue immediately intertwining with yours. He helps you out of your pants in the process not wanting to pull his lips away from yours until he tugs the hem of your shift and lifts it off, leaving you wearing nothing but your underwear on.

His kisses start to travel oh so slowly from your lips all the way to your inner thighs. Juyeon can feel himself pre cumming at the deep inhale of your panty covered core. The wet patch luring him in to kiss it and practically mouth your covered folds.

You let out yet another ethereal moan as your fingers weave through his hair. His hands slowly pull the garter of your underwear down, throwing the damp material behind him as he continues on with his ministrations.

Juyeon wastes no time and grabs the back of your thighs and placing them over his shoulder, making sure that his face is locked onto your throbbing core. He kisses your folds before suddenly darting his warm wet tongue between them, reveling in the taste of you before flicking your sensitive bud. He looks up to watch your reactions, which motivate him to keep on going.

“P-please…” You whine as he hums and sucks on your clit. Juyeon doesn’t even need you to tell him what you want, by the sound of your moans and the way your thighs slowly squeeze his head he knows you’re getting closer to the edge.

He nearly lets go himself when you reach your high without warning, the sudden burst of your essence onto his lips as you moan out his name was something he never thought would feel so divine.

He pulls himself up and goes back to kissing you, tasting yourself on his tongue has your core throbbing for him once again. Your hands hastily helping him unbutton his own pants along with his boxers as he pulls them down and kicks them to the side.

Your mouth waters at the sight of his impressive length, your hand instantly wrapping around his member as you stroke him slowly. “Oh s-shit.” He growls into your ear.

“Want you inside me Juyeon, want you to fuck me.” You whisper in his ear. He grabs your wrist to stop, holding his own member as he aligns it with your entrance.

“Don’t want to fuck you-” He mumbles. You pull away from him, confused by his words. His other hand grabs the back of your neck as he pulls your face closer to his.

“-Want to make love to you.” He whispers into your mouth. And before you know it he’s pushing his entire cock inside you, bottoming out instantly. You both moan into each other’s mouths at the stretch. Juyeon moves his hips slowly as he starts to fuck you deeply, making sure you feel all of him going in and out of your pussy.

Juyeon wishes this moment could last forever, but the way your walls grip onto his member like a vice brings him closer to the edge faster than he had hoped. Especially with how you’re moaning into his mouth and wrapping your arms around his neck so tight? He was a goner.

He’s never fucked anyone like this before, and now he can’t imagine doing this with anyone else except you.

With every deep thrust, you feel yourself on the verge of cumming for the second time. Each stroke hitting that sweet spot in you has you reaching for the stars.

“Fuck Juyeon, you’re gonna make me cum again.” You whine as the wet sounds you're both making has you feeling dizzy.

“C’mon sweetheart, cum on my cock. God you can keep cumming on my cock as much as you want I don’t care.” His thrusts start to pick up the pace. “I’m yours forever.”

Those three words were enough to snap the coil within, breathing heavily as your walls flutter around his length. You’re so caught up in your own head you don’t realize Juyeon uttering a string of whimpers until you feel him quickly pull out his cock and blow his load all over your stomach.

The both of you take a moment to calm down from your highs before Juyeon gets up to each for the box of tissue on the coffee table. You watch him gently clean you up before he pulls his boxers back on to find your discarded underwear and also helps you put it back on.

He hovers above you before leaning down to leave small kisses around your face and on your lips. You caress his cheek slowly as he leans into your touch.

“Did you mean it? Everything you said?” You softly ask him.

“Down to every letter.” He responds. “But… I think you broke me.”

“Broke you? How?” You playfully scrunch your eyebrows at him.

“Don’t want to see myself with anyone else now.”

“Oh really?” You raise an eyebrow. “And how should I fix it then?” He smirks and kisses you again,

“Let me take you out on a date and we’ll call it even.”

#deoboyznet #juyeon smut #lee juyeon #juyeon #tbz smut #the boyz smut #the boyz hard hours #tbz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz fanfic #tbz drabbles #the boyz scenarios #tbz hard hours #kpop smut

[heesdreamer]

YOU MAKE ME

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ struck with insomnia your entire life, you’ve taken to exploring the city restless all night. things change when you meet a tall boy with tired eyes and bruised knuckles

WARNINGS ➩ heeseung is lowkey crazy and obsessed with reader, parental death and abuse and implied violence, sexual scenes and commentary, mental health talk (especially insomnia)

WC ➩ 17k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ (i lied lol part 2 soon) NOOO PART 2 plz don’t request im so serious i rlly love this story and it’s completed it has nothing else to add! im glad you guys enjoy my work enough to want more but when there is no feedback in ur comment and just “need part 2” when i spent so much time writing 13k+ words it makes me feel terrible lol. i rlly hope you love this as much as me (NOT PROOFREAD)

Your mother used to tell you that she thought you were born from a piece of the moon.

When you were old enough to understand her and her strange sayings, she’d tell you stories about how when you were a baby you’d never sleep through a night. She looked mystified as she explained to you the ways in which you’d gain energy every time the sun set, becoming whiny and ornery whenever she’d take you with her to run errands during the day.

She told you how you struggled in school for most of your early years, always being found curled up in your backpack cubby or under the slides at the playground because you hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before.

You always were much more cynical than your mother, less of a dreamer and typically prone to aggravation or grumpy tired mumbles. She’d tell you your connection with the moon was a blessing, a lifelong friend for you and you’d retort back that it was a nuisance.

When your mom died you finally realized what she had meant for the first time. You spent nights awake, like usual, but now they were accompanied by nothing but the sounds of your low sobs and your father drinking himself stupid just below your bedroom. It wasn’t until you cracked open your bedroom window for some fresh winter air did you catch sight of the moon and finally feel it, finally feel the connection you’d always been told you had.

Years had passed now and while you didn’t cry every night anymore, you still rarely found yourself able to sleep through the night.

You’d also turned your back on the moon again now that you were older and still just as restless, sleeping throughout your classes and lacking any social life considering the way you wandered through the halls like a ghost with sunken eyes and dark circles.

It was frustrating to you that nothing seemed to be working, no amount of teas or yoga exercises. You’d gone as far as to take prescribed sleep medication, only working enough to make you more exhausted than you already were yet not putting you to rest like you were longing for.

Years of trying and you’ve mostly given up, accepted your condition and never once considered it the blessing your mother had tried to convince you it was.

Blessings wouldn’t leave your bones aching, they wouldn’t leave you slow blinking trying to understand what your teachers were saying or stumbling holding your lunch tray. Blessings surely wouldn’t have you stood in the middle of a dirty 7/11, clutching three bags of chips and a large slushee while you impatiently waited for the two people in front of you to move along.

You’d realized a few things by being a night owl, only ever interacting with people having the same issue as you or people who worked early enough that you’d pass by them on your way back to your house.

You’d taken to spending your nights awake out in the city, sick of staring at your ceiling or scrolling down the same boring timelines that carried nothing but the same content posted thousands of times with different wordings. So you started to explore at some point during high school, each night pushing yourself to wander further and find something interesting before heading back.

Sometimes you ended up at the river, sitting and watching drunk older men laugh with their friends like they were teenagers, catching the ends of failed dates as they walked home with their heels in their hands.

Other times you sat and drank coffee in the few 24 hour shops scattered around the city, sipping it slowly until it was cold and the added sugar was hardening at the bottom of your paper cup.

Most times however you simply found yourself stood in this exact position, holding your snacks of choice and tapping your foot impatiently while you waited for the drunk college students in front of you to stop joking around with the exhausted cashier and pay for their beers. It wasn’t that late yet, not quite the time of night that got you weird stares for wandering around in your pajamas.

You could hear the cashiers tired voice repeating their total to them, asking if they wanted to pay with cash or card and you sighed softly. You tilted to the side with an exaggerated sway so you could see over their laughing bodies, vaguely meeting eyes with the boy behind the counter before flopping back to your original position.

A heavy sigh was slipping out of your mouth before you even realized it and one of the drunk men turned back to look at you, an eyebrow cocked in offense as he let out a nasty laugh after taking you in.

You were pretty used to that reaction, standing in your plaid pajamas with your favorite bunny slippers and knitted hat. Your eyes were low and heavy with sleep deprivation, an annoyed glint to your expression that seemed to aggravate him further once the glare was set towards him.

“Are we bugging you Ms?” He was asking it in a mockingly sweet tone, clearly antagonizing you due to your impatience. You sighed again and your eyes drifted to the side for a moment in indifference, too exhausted to hold a conversation let alone argue with a grown man who didn’t know how to behave in a public setting.

“Yeah.. a little bit.” You were casually mumbling after a few beats of him and his friend staring at you, realizing now they weren’t going to just let you go without a response.

He was scoffing like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard and you felt a little jolt of your inner alert system when he was taking a step towards you, his much larger frame slightly intimidating on top of the fact he was drunk and not thinking clearly.

He stopped early in his advances however and you were confused for a second before you registered the sound of the cashier clearing his throat, the two men turning back to look at him with an incredulous look. When you’d first gotten a glimpse of him he’d been bent over the counter, his elbows resting against it with a bored expression but now that he was standing up to his full height you faltered a bit at how tall he was.

The two men seemed to be thinking the same thing as you, suddenly hesitant in their childish behavior and awkwardly handing him a wadded up bill before taking their case of beer and staggering out of the convenience store.

“Thanks.” You were muttering and dumping your snacks out onto the counter, awkwardly catching one of the candy bars that bounced off a bag of chips and almost fell back onto the ground.

“No problem.” He was responding back with a small shrug and you glanced at him curiously, scanning his tired eyes down to the work uniform that didn’t fit him properly.

“You’re not Jake.” You were announcing and he faltered in his scanning, eyes widening a touch as he looked down at you. He was wearing a name tag but you came by often enough to know that it wasn’t his own, never having seen him before and growing used to the friendly smile the usual third shifter would give you every time you dragged yourself in.

“Uh.. no. I’m not, yeah you’re right.” He was awkwardly muttering back and you almost felt bad for calling him out so directly so you laughed a bit to ease the tension, just as awkward considering you weren’t used to extended social interaction this late at night. “He had a concert he couldn’t miss.. asked me to take over.”

You were nodding softly, mouth parting in understanding and awkwardly shuffling while the conversation quickly died into a weird silence. The sounds of your slippers against the tiled floor was scratchy and too loud for your taste, making you wince slightly at how embarrassing this whole interaction was.

“Are you getting paid?” You don’t know why you asked him another question, why you were carrying on a conversation when it’d been years since you’d had one randomly like this but you liked the way his big eyes flickered back up to you.

“Yeah of course.” He was breaking out into a wide grin at the mention of it, finishing scanning your snacks and looking at the register for a second like he’d forgotten what to do next. “I’m normally up all night anyways so I don’t mind much.”

This piqued your interest but you kept your face neutral, nodding softly and picking at the peeling leather of your wallet while you waited for him to give you your total. He was looking up at you again before he spoke and his eyes landed on your hat for a second, still smiling softly as he looked at the knitted bunny ears.

You cleared your throat and he stopped staring, stammering out how much it had cost you and you slid a few bills over to him while watching the way he fumbled around trying to get the register to open.

“Well… have a good night then.” You were mumbling to him while grabbing the plastic bags he was handing you over the clear divider, your fingers brushing against his warm knuckles for a second. “Not Jake.”

“Goodnight.” He was casually saying back and you wanted to correct him on his wording and tell him you didn’t sleep much either, tell him you understood filling your nights with mindless task and the dark circles under his big eyes. Instead you just bit the inside of your cheek and turned to leave. “Have fun wandering.”

——

You’d left early the next night, starting your walk around midnight instead of the usual 3am and you hurried down to the bus stop that would take you deep into the city. You pulled your headphones on tight and chewed on your lip as you waited for the stop you were planning to get off at.

When you got there, you were tugging on the stop signal line and standing up before the driver pulled the brakes. You swayed slightly when he came to a complete stop and you thanked him as you hopped off the high step, speed walking towards your destination and adjusting your bunny hat on your head before you passed through the doors.

The loud chime of the stores entrance bell rang uncomfortably loud through your ears and you winced at the volume, ducking behind one of the tall shelves and grabbing a few snacks at random before making your way over to the register.

Jake was there again now, giving you that familiar greeting smile and you couldn’t help but feel a small wave of disappointment. You weren’t sure why you thought the boy from last night would be back again considering he’d clearly told you he was just filling in for his friend but you frowned slightly and mumbled a greeting to the boy in front of you instead.

“You’re here early.” Jake was starting and you almost sighed. He was friendly and you admired how much energy he had but he often tried to engage in conversation with you whenever you came by, despite the annoyed glances you occasionally threw his way. “You almost missed me.”

You picked your head up at this, suddenly more alert and raising an eyebrow towards him in interest. As far as you knew, Jake was the only third shift worker and he must’ve barely started considering how early in the night it still was so he must’ve meant he was leaving before his usual time.

“Who’s going to watch the store then?” You were asking him and you tried to ignore how knowing the smile he was giving you was, laughing slightly at the fact you were suddenly interested in what he had to say for the first time ever.

“My best friend, Heeseung.” He was responding slowly and you faltered slightly, not knowing the boy from yesterday’s name so you didn’t want to get too excited over nothing. “He helped me out last night and said it was more interesting than he expected so he offered again.”

“He offered?” You were speaking before he even finished his last syllable and you flushed with embarrassment at the look he gave you, shuffling awkwardly on your feet and waiting for him to respond now that you confirmed it was the same person.

He didn’t say anything but he gave a soft hum of agreement and continued to swiftly bag your snacks, much more natural and efficient than his friend but you liked the way Heeseung stared at the register like it was an alien object. You were interested in him just from the small conversation you had, although feeling uncomfortable at the emotion considering it wasn’t something you usually felt.

You chalked it down to the fact he reminded you of yourself, not so much in his lazy smiles and casual demeanor but something about the way his tired eyes looked around.

Jake was opening his mouth again to speak and you looked up at him curiously but you both froze at the sound of the entrance bell ringing again, looking over to see the boy in question entering.

He froze when he saw the two of you staring at him, eyes falling to your hat and then down to your face which caused his to flicker with recognition. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck, looking even taller now that he wasn’t standing behind the counter.

Heeseung was wearing a large hoodie pulled over his head and you could see the wires of his headphones going down into his shirt, tangled around his wrist that was clutching onto the strap of the backpack he was wearing. It was light looking and you weren’t sure if he had anything inside it or if he was just carrying it to give himself something to hold onto.

“Hey.” Jake was smiling at him and simultaneously handing you your plastic bag full of random snacks, hitting you with the reminder you had no real reason to stay in the store now despite the fact Heeseung had just arrived.

“Um.. thanks.” You were awkwardly muttering and taking it from him, shifting a few steps towards the door but stopping when you realized the tall boy was still standing in front of it and you had no way around him.

He was watching you still with a curious expression and you felt embarrassed suddenly, knowing Jake must have pieced together your reason for coming here so early and now he was watching you clam up and leave before you’d even gotten the chance to speak a word to the boy.

You were just standing there in silence, waiting for him to move and silently praying he would do you didn’t have to awkwardly shuffle around his large frame, when he suddenly was adjusting the backpack on his shoulders and clearing his throat while looking past you towards his friend.

“Change of plans. I’m busy tonight.” He was saying in a low determined voice and you could hear Jake sigh from behind you, your eyes widening slightly in confusion until the other boy was looking back at you with a small smile on his face. “Want to hang out with me?”

It took a few seconds for you to register he was actually asking you, staring up at him with an open mouth and stuttering for a moment before giving up on a verbal answer and nodding your head swiftly. He smiled even more at that and then he was waving goodbye to his friend, turning back around and holding the door open for you so you could quickly scurry out of it.

You weren’t too sure what to do, still feeling too nervous to speak clearly so you paused and waited to see if he would say something first. He didn’t but he lifted an eyebrow and gave you an expectant look, silently telling you that you were in charge of your destination for the night.

The pressure of a decision made you sigh softly and you gave him a weird look that made him chuckle, thinking for a moment before turning on your heel and walking away. He jogged slightly to catch up with you and you walked in comfortable silence for a few moments.

“Can I ask where we are going?” He was eventually mumbling, leaning down and towards you slightly so you could hear him at his low volume. Your lip curled up at the fact he was whispering for no reason.

“You don’t trust me?” You were asking him back and your teasing attitude seemed to catch him off guard for a second, raising his hands in mock defense and cocking an eyebrow in challenge.

“I do trust you actually, weirdly.” He paused and you could feel him looking sideways at you. You ignored his gaze and kept facing forward, following the sidewalk that was cutting through the park near the river. “Considering you don’t even know my name.”

You almost replied telling him that you did know his, that you’d been repeating it in your mind since Jake had informed you of it in the store but you figured that would be too forward and instead you just hummed softly. He didn’t ask you for your name, or even offer his and for some reason you had a feeling he already knew it.

Possibly asking Jake about you, an easy answer considering your unusual attire and late night arrival, and that being the reason behind the cashiers knowing smirk when you pushed through the glass door.

“Is this what you normally do?” He was talking again after a few more minutes of silent walking and this time, it was your turn to look at him from the side of your eye. “Walk around?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged and you felt one of the bunny ears from your hat fall off your shoulder at the movement. You weren’t sure why you didn’t give him a straight forward answer, knowing perfectly well your usual routine.

It felt strange to be accompanied by somebody even though he wasn’t talking much, you could tell he was thinking and wanting to ask you things and as much as you were intrigued by him it was slightly unsettling you to be around somebody for this long.

You spent most your days isolated, not having anybody to talk to at home considering any attempt of conversation with your father usually ended poorly anyways, eventually giving up altogether unless he was grunting something to you every morning when you wandered back into the house.

At school it was relatively the same, or most times worse. You don’t think the other students necessarily meant to complete ice you out but nobody seemed to know how to talk to you after your mom died, at first being overly compassionate and eager to empathize with you vocally and then eventually fading off into small pitiful smiles when they met your tired eyes in the hallway or eyeing you when you came into class late with messy hair.

Heeseung didn’t seem to be giving you any of these looks, he looked confused by your behavior at times but it was accompanied by small smirks or friendly chuckles.

You once again wondered why he was awake right now, why he seemed like he was used to this setting as much as you and not like he was forcing himself to stay up for the sake of making a new friend. You were curious what he was thinking about and what lead him to ask you to hang out in the first place.

“Have you been to the coffee shop on 44th?” He was suddenly asking and breaking you from your train of thought, his voice still in a low whisper.

“Why are you being quiet?” You ignored his question and raised an eyebrow in his direction, tugging on your sleeve and watching the way he faltered slightly.

“Guess I’m not used to talking to somebody this late.” He was shrugging now and he almost looked embarrassed at your question, making you feel slightly guilty for making him uncomfortable.

It wasn’t that late yet, people were still wandering around from bars and late night dinners and you could hear the squeal of the bus brakes still running. The city was rarely ever dark, even in the parks near the bridge but the mood changed sometime around 4am and you felt like the trees were sleeping. Everything was still awake now however and Heeseung whispering was driving you a bit crazy.

“What about Jake?” You were asking him more now, trying to make conversation so he knew you didn’t mean any harm from your comment.

“Jake’s a freak of nature.” He was relaxing again at the mention of his friend, a smile naturally slipping back onto his face at the familiar topic. “You know he works this shift and still goes to school? He even plays football at Hope.”

The mention of your schools college made you freeze for a second, faltering in your step and causing him to look back at you with concern, turning his body so he could face you now that you were lagging behind him. He raised an eyebrow at you and you gave him a confused look.

“You guys go to Hope?” You were saying it slowly so he heard you clearly and his head cocked like a confused dog.

“I don’t, Jake is older than us.” His use of the word threw you off completely and he must’ve noticed because he let out an awkward laugh at your reaction, scratching his neck in embarrassment. “We’re in the same grade.”

“We like… as in me and you?” You rushed out and he nodded his head, hands coming up in panic when you let out a low groan of guilt.

“It’s okay, don’t worry! I didn’t recognize you at first either, it’s a big class.” He was rambling to try and make you feel better about the fact you didn’t even realize he was your classmate, his comfortable behavior suddenly making more sense. You’d definitely never spoken to him but the fact he’d seen you around such a familiar place would make more sense towards why he was so willingly to walk around with you in the middle of the night.

“I’ve been there since Kindergarten.” You blurted out with wide eyes, exclaiming loudly in pure shock that you’d been so oblivious.

“Me too..” He was awkwardly offering with a wince like he knew it would just make the situation worse that’d you’d been classmates for over a decade.

You raised your sweater covered hands up to your face and groaned loudly, pulling your bunny ears in front of your eyes so you didn’t have to look at his sheepish expression anymore. You could hear him laughing softly at how dramatic you were being and you moved one ear to the side to send him a half glare.

“It’s really okay.” He was laughing out and you could see his soft smile from your one uncovered eye, watching him with a flushed face and growing embarrassment the more amused he became. “It’s not like you’re there much anyways.”

He was saying it casually, like he hadn’t even thought about it before it came out of his mouth but you both froze up at the same time at his accidental admission. You slowly moved your ears to the side and raised an eyebrow at him, leaning your upper half forward slightly and trying not to smile at the fact he was now the one flushing in embarrassment.

“So you notice me?” You were dragging out the words and your lip curled up in amusement, racking through your mind for times you’d seen the tall boy and coming up blank. In your defense, your entire school catalogue section of your brain was completely empty and that included cute boys with giant backpacks.

“I mean… well it’s just like… it’s not like I was stalking you or anything.” He was rambling on and moving his hands around a lot like he was really trying to prove his point, going back to awkwardly scratching at his neck when you gave him a disbelieving look.

“Heeseung.” You cut him off and he paused for a second in surprise, making you realize you’d just said his name without ever asking him for it.

He seemed to relax at that, knowing you also knew more about him than you were previously letting on and his shoulders lowered now that he was less tensed. He looked like he wanted to speak again but you felt embarrassed suddenly and took a few steps forward slowly, waiting for him to get the memo that you wanted to continue on your walk.

The two of you fell back into another spout of silence, awkward at first and then more comfortable as you got deeper into the city. It was more relaxed accompanied by the sounds of people laughing and cars honking their horns, kitchen staff wishing each other goodnight as they left different restaurants and swapped signs over to closed.

You were glancing over at Heeseung after a while and you studied him for a moment while he wasn’t paying attention, his big eyes looking around the city with the same expression you assumed you often had. No matter how many times you came down here, you always felt the exact same.

You always had this longing to capture the moment in some sort of way, giving up on photographs and videos quickly into your new habit considering they simply never were able to fully express how it felt. You tried writing about it, talking about the city always felt awake and how it unsettled you in a way that felt like a friendly challenge and not like your world flipping upside down.

“Where do you go?” You were asking him before you even realized it, watching his side profile as his big eyes opened wide for a second at the sudden sound of your voice and then darted right to look at you.

He seemed to think for a second and then he answered slowly. “I don’t know actually. Just here I guess, I just like to be here I think.”

The two of you watched each other for a few beats, holding the others gaze and you liked the way the neon signs behind you were reflecting off his round dark eyes. It was like a little piece of the city was frozen inside them and you almost said that to him before swallowing it, realizing how creepy it would sound out loud.

You didn’t say much else for the rest of the night, wandering around a bit more before eventually settling at one of the small parks near the center of the main area of downtown. You sat in silence like that, you pulling out your notebook that had few words and many sketches and Heeseung playing with the strings of his headphones as he listened to music.

You could faintly hear it coming from them, loud enough to reach you a few feet away and you considered telling him he was able to play it out loud if he wanted to but for some reason you felt like it was private, leaving him to listen by himself.

When the night was slowly changing into that familiar blue color, the stage right in the center of night and day when everything is coated in the indigo filter, you were standing up off the ground and dusting off your pants. Heeseung was looking up at you due to your sudden movement and you stood over him, offering him a hand so you could pull him up.

It was mainly his own strength put into moving his weight forward considering he was a lot taller than you and you were quite weak due to your lack of sleep, but he seemed to appreciate the friendly gesture and gave you a small smile after he was back on his feet.

“What bus do you take?” He was asking you on your way back to the 7/11 and you felt him looking at the side of your face.

“15.” You answered slowly, your voice softer now as the exhaustion started to seep in. You were suddenly grateful it was a weekend, the social interaction leaving you more tired than normal and hopefully giving you the opportunity to sleep an hour or two. “You?”

“Same, but Jake is bringing me home with him today.” He was mumbling and nodded your head, picking at the skin around your nails and feeling more guilt at the fact you’d never seen him on the bus before either. “Did you want a ride home?”

His question was surprising you and your eyes widened, looking at him and seeing the concern pass over his face at your sudden change of demeanor. You were shaking your head quickly, ears swooshing around your head and you raised a hand to shake it, really emphasizing your denial.

You couldn’t imagine your fathers reaction to you being brought home by a car, especially one that contained two teenage boys in the front seat. It already took him long enough to stop punishing you for leaving at night, eventually giving up on denying you your freedom once you started to pace around the house all night instead.

“Alright, no problem.” He said quickly and you were glad he didn’t push the topic although you could tell he wanted to, a curious look on his features. Heeseung seemed to have a habit of clearly showcasing his emotions and you were grateful considering it made him easier to understand but frustrated when it was a look of pity or sympathy on his face.

You didn’t say anything when he continued to walk with you past the convenience store, walking side by side on the sidewalks even as they thinned out as you slightly left the city area.

He still didn’t speak again even when you both stood together and waited for the bus to arrive, him leaning against the plastic material covering the stops bench and you standing outside of it so the driver didn’t just blow right past you, not expecting somebody out this late.

It was you that finally turned towards him once you caught sight of the bus approaching, tugging on one of your ears awkwardly and shuffling your feet while you waited for it to get closer. You could hear it squealing to a stop, the doors creaking open while he looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m…” His stare was throwing you off and you started to falter in your words while nervously looking behind you towards the driver who was waiting. “I’ll be here tomorrow around the same time so… if you wanted to.. or if like..”

You trailed off with a sigh but he seemed to get the general idea, a small smile on his face as he dipped his head down slightly in a conforming nod, relief washing over you at the fact he hadn’t found your indirect invitation weird or out of place. You raised your hand in a wave goodbye and he returned, watching you as you pulled your headphones over your hat and ears and boarded the bus swiftly, softly thanking the driver for waiting and finding a seat towards the back.

You could see him outside the window as you pulled off, still leaning against the booth and watching the bus as it left until it rounded the corner. You flushed at the fact he had walked you to your stop despite needing to return back to the city area to get a ride from Jake, not even hesitating when you passed by the store earlier.

It was exciting to be interested in somebody or even something at all, rarely feeling too extreme of emotions considering how dull and hazy everything became with your repeated exhausted routine. Not even your father, sprawled on the couch and surrounded by empty beer cans, could damper your mood as you entered your small house.

It took you a long time, hours staring at your ceiling with a half wandering mind but you eventually managed to get a little bit of sleep, thoughts of Heeseung and his wired headphones accompanying you.

——

The routine continued like this for awhile and you slowly got accustomed to it, now expecting to see him every time you boarded the bus and he was already there waiting for you with his large backpack saving you the seat beside him.

Sometimes you didn’t talk, walking in silence for hours or finding a nice place to sit and do your own individual activities side by side. Other nights you struck up small conversation, talking about the city and your favorite places to go and every once in a while delving into deeper categories that slowly chipped away at the uncomfortable feeling that always came along with attempting to trust somebody.

Heeseung was nice to you and you liked that about him as selfish as it sounded. He never expected you to answer his questions and he rarely pried, around the second day he had even started to pull out snacks from his backpack and hand them over to you after he opened them.

It was a bit into meeting now and he was walking you back to the bus stop, large hands tightly holding onto the straps of his backpack like they always were. He had lots of little habits like that and you carefully filed them all away in your memory. Sometimes he boarded the bus with you but others he just walked with you down there before leaning against the booth and waiting for you to round the corner.

Sometimes you wanted to ask him where he lived, he had to be further away from the city than you considering he was always on the bus before you at the start of the night but that would put him at even more of a distance from your school than you were already at.

Speaking of school, you’d yet to see him around the building and you surprised yourself by actually keeping an eye out throughout the day. You were scanning your tired eyes around the cafeteria and turning your dizzy head in classrooms to see if he was present but you’d not caught sight of him yet and you felt weird about asking where he was.

Maybe he didn’t want to be friends outside of the few hours of the night you spent together, time almost nonexistent here. You felt like the world was frozen most nights you spent with him around the city and you figured he must prefer that aspect versus actually interacting with you in the daytime where other people could see.

You were too distracted in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize your brain was auto-piloting and boarding onto the bus before you even checked if he was coming along, going to turn around to see and completely missing the first large step off the ground. You fell forward and you imagined your side would’ve painfully landed directed on the jagged edges of the steps but you didn’t get a chance to find out, suspending in mid air considering Heeseung had jolted forward to grab onto you.

You could feel his hand wrapped around your side, the other placed in the middle of your shoulder blades so he could support your weight without falling forward himself. Your eyes were wide from almost hurting yourself and you flushed bright red at the concerned look on his face, helping you back to a standing position but keeping his hand on your waist even after you were fully stable.

The bus driver was clearing his throat and Heeseung glanced behind him awkwardly like he was originally not meant to get on the bus, but he turned back towards you and took a step onto the same one you were standing on.

It didn’t pass by you that this was the closest you’d ever been to him, normally keeping a few feet between you when you found a place to sit for the night and rarely ever being close enough to bump shoulders while walking side by side. Now, since he was stood on the same small step as you, you were practically pushed up against him while his hand was still gently against your side despite not having a reason to hold onto you anymore.

He was leaning forward, his chest pressing against you more and you awkwardly looked down at his feet instead of focusing on how tall he was at this distance, and you vaguely registered the fact he was paying for both of your bus tickets.

He seemed to catch on to the fact you were out of it a bit and losing focus, his hand pushing into your side slightly to let you know it was time to fully enter the bus and find your seats. You expected him to let you go once you entered the thin aisle but he didn’t and even when he was stood behind you walking towards the back, he kept his hand around your waist like he was guiding you.

It was removed once you took your seats and you found yourself still able to feel it for some reason, the feeling burned into your mind as he awkwardly cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his neck again.

You glanced over at him and his nervous demeanor, his hands fidgeting with his ripped pants now like he was also still reeling from the feeling of touching you so randomly. His hair was messy like normal but it was getting longer now, falling forward into his eyes so you couldn’t quite see what his expression was. You watched him as he put his headphones in but you leaned forward slightly to confirm that he wasn’t actually playing any music.

“Did you have somewhere to be?” You were asking him softly and then repeating it louder when you realized his headphones might block out some of your volume.

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow and took the one closest to you out of his ear, wrapping it around the outside instead and thinking for a second before he gave you an answer.

“Not necessarily.” He was mumbling back but sighing softly when you gave him a disbelieving look. “Okay well kind of but I want to get you home first.”

“I barely tripped.” You were rolling your eyes at him being overly concerned but the flush in your face gave you away and he laughed softly.

“Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you a little bit longer.” He was shrugging and turning his head to look at you better, smiling more at the way you squeezed your shoulders together and awkwardly glared forward at the floor.

“We could always hang out in school.” You were offering after a few beats of silence and you immediately regretted it, not sure how it even managed to escape your lips considering you’d already told yourself you weren’t going to question him.

His initial reaction didn’t give anything away to you, face remaining blank like he hadn’t put much thought into it but you noticed his hands starting to pick at the tape wrapped around his headphone wire and you felt guilty for bringing it up. You were about to back track and tell him to forget about it or change the subject but he was humming softly.

“I think that’d be nice.” He was saying it casually but there was a nervous edge to his voice and your mouth was downturned slightly. “Where do you eat lunch at?”

“Near the side doors.” You were answering smoothly although you left out the fact you more so used the free half an hour for a quick nap instead of actually eating. “You?”

“The library.” He was saying it hesitantly like he wasn’t sure if he should lie or not, knowing full well there was a no eating policy in that section of the school and you’d realize he wasn’t actually eating at lunch either. You both paused for a second in heavy silence before you were snorting a laugh.

“So you’re a loser basically?” Your comment was teasing and he visibly relaxed at your reaction, chuckling softly and nudging you with his thin shoulder.

“Sorry to disappoint Ms. Popular.” He was retorting back and you were glad to see the small smile return to his face and stay there now that you’ve both established this change in routine.

You wondered if he’d been thinking about it too, keeping an eye out for you or if he was actively avoiding you throughout the hallways like you’d previously thought. Maybe he figured the same as you, that you wouldn’t want to be suddenly seen with him or you wouldn’t acknowledge him and it would ruin the friendship you were slowly building.

When you got off the bus it was nice to see him still there, trying not to wince at how close the stop was to your house and how if it didn’t pull off immediately he’d see you walk up to the overgrown grass with windows titled off their hinges.

You tried not to think about it and after you gave him a small wave through the window you turned on your heel and kept your face forward, steely in your resolve to not spare him another nervous glance. This time you father didn’t seem to be home and you were grateful for that considering you had a feeling you were absolutely radiating with how much you were thinking about the boy.

It was hard to go to sleep, even more so than normal, with the ghost of his hand pressed again you and the knowledge that tomorrow you now knew where to find him. It was up to the two of you to decide if you used this information or ignored it and you weren’t sure which route he was hoping you’d take.

——

“I thought you’d forgotten about me for a second there.” Heeseung’s low voice was hitting your ears the second you crossed into the library and you let out a sigh of relief upon seeing him.

You were worried for the first half of the day that it would be awkward, that you wouldn’t know what to say to each other and it would ruin everything you’d be enjoying so much, but you knew from the second he spoke that you’d made the right choice in coming to find him.

“I was about to give up.” You scowled at him and placed your bag down on the back of the chair, climbing up and sitting across from him at the high top round table in the back of the library. “You’re hard to track down.. plus the librarian kept glaring at me every time I passed her desk like I was trying to steal her books.”

“She’s probably just used to only seeing me.” He was explaining with a small smirk at your complaining and you frowned at him softly while taking a second to take him in.

You weren’t sure why you expected him to look different during the day time, feeling a bit stupid now that you looked at him and he looked exactly the same. Almost exactly, outside of how much more exhausted he looked now that he was running on even less sleep, his hair was messier than it was around 2am and he was nervously looking around.

Heeseung was always handsome to you, despite the fact you tried to pretend you didn’t think so the first few times you hung out, but you noticed things about him under the school lights that you had missed outside in the near dark.

For one, he had his eyebrow pierced. You’re not exactly sure how you managed to not notice that considering you were currently frozen to your seat as you saw it gleaming against the light when he turned his head to look at you in confusion.

He looked embarrassed at the fact you were staring at him so intensely and he brought a hand up to mess with his bangs, the face jewelry disappearing back behind his hair and showcasing why you failed to see it before. His hand had bandaids on a few of his fingers and you almost asked him about them until he tucked them back into his hoodie sleeves.

“You don’t eat?” He was clearing his throat and asking you in a low tone, leaning forward slightly to ensure that you could hear him.

You were shaking your head softly and then shrugging, almost becoming awkward enough to regret coming. “Foods no good here anyway.”

He watched you for a few seconds and you were curious what he was thinking, if he was making similar observations as you. You were suddenly reminded you couldn’t wear your bunny hat to school and it might be the first time he’s seen you without it, seen how dark your under eyes are and how dry and chapped your lips become this time of year.

You didn’t like that you thought about this, didn’t like that you cared about what he was thinking about your appearance.

“We could go get some food after school.” He was suggesting it with a shrug but his eyes were watching you intensely with a hint of hesitance, almost like he was expecting you to say no.

You felt like your breath caught for a few seconds, holding tightly in your chest and you hoped your eyes didn’t widen too much at his suggestion. He was still watching you but his eyes softened slightly at your surprised expression, amused that you seemed just as nervous as he was about this change of pacing.

“Are you paying?” You were eventually wheezing out after a few seconds, letting the words tumble out at the same time your big gulp of air did.

His smile was familiar, the same one he gave you when he caught you staring at him in the park for a sketch reference, the same one he would offer everytime you’d skip onto the bus and grin once you caught sight of him saving your seat. You thought it looked even better in the sunlight.

——

You tried not to think about how weird it was that you and Heeseung left school together, side by side and bumping into each other while navigating the hoard of students all trying to squeeze out of the doors to escape the building.

You wondered if anybody else thought it was weird, if anyone paid enough attention to you in recent years to wonder who the tall boy next to you was. The boy who was currently snaking a hand down to your side like he had at the bus, gently guiding you through a gap in the crowd so you could get outside faster than it would be to stand and wait.

Your face was flushing bright red but he luckily seemed to focused on getting out of the mass of people to realize, eyebrows furrowed in a stressed out expression.

He didn’t remove his hand even after you’d gotten out of the tight pile of bodies, keeping it there comfortably but you knew by the heavy silence that you both were aware it wasn’t anything normal for him to do. You almost couldn’t tell, almost convinced yourself this was his typical behavior and you’d somehow just not realized it, but when you caught his eye and he quickly looked away with a small pink to his cheeks you knew it wasn’t.

Little things were different during daytime hours but not enough to make your head completely spin, giving you that familiar overwhelmed feeling that left you taking deep breaths in the bathroom stall.

The bus was actually full of people for once, only one seat left in the middle of the aisle and Heeseung hurriedly sat you down on it before it was taken. He was standing above you holding onto the pole near the top of the ceiling and you would’ve felt bad he had to do that so you could sit if it wasn’t for the small glances and grins he was sending down your way every time he caught you staring.

When you reached further into the city, somewhere you didn’t fully recognize but he must’ve considering the was leaning forward towards you and tugging on the stop rope, you both thanked the driver and left the bus.

You tried not to be disappointed when he didn’t hold onto you again, silently cursing yourself for feeling that way anyways and pushing it down. You took your backpack off your shoulders as you walked and held it in front of you, fishing for something inside with an annoyed sigh after a few seconds passed without feeling it.

Eventually the familiar fabric was grazing your fingers and you smiled softly as you pulled out your hat and situated it over your head again, pulling a few pieces of hair out in the front and glancing over at Heeseung who had been watching you.

“Woah Y/N, when’d you get here?” He was mock gasping, a hand coming up to cover his mouth and stumble back on the sidewalk like you had surprised him.

You grumbled at his antics and elbowed him in the side, trying to pretend your heart didn’t pick up in pace when he laughed loudly at your reaction and grabbed onto your jacket so he didn’t go tumbling into the street from your small shove. He didn’t let go for a few seconds even after he was steadied, rubbing the materiel between his fingers before dropping it.

You wondered if he was always this touchy with people or if he had just grown comfortable with you fast considering the strange and slightly intimidate circumstances you’d been hanging out under.

He was walking side by side with you but you were following his lead, still not exactly sure where he was bringing you to. You fell back into a comfortable silence like you always did as you traversed the city and you felt a little bit dizzy due to exhaustion and the bright glare of the sun.

It only worsened when you were rounding a corner, passing by a large building that was originally blocking your view of the next street over, and you caught sight of a familiar back that caused you to freeze in your tracks.

Heeseung took a few steps forward before realizing you weren’t continuing and he turned back to look at you with a concerned expression, approaching you again and standing in front of you. His large frame was blocking your view now but you slowly leaned over to look past him and immediately shot back to hide behind his chest and wince.

“What’s wrong?” He was rushing out and his eyebrows were furrowed with worry, a hand coming up but stopping just short of your arm like he wasn’t sure he was supposed to touch you.

“I-I have to go.” You were rushing out and you felt embarrassed underneath your panic, hands shaking slightly and you swallowed harshly.

He was frowning and turning his body to look behind him and try to see whatever had spooked you, immediately whipping back around due to the fact him moving had allowed you to see the man again, this time facing your direction with a suspicious look on his face. You imagined it was due to the fact Heeseung was just standing in the middle of the sidewalk but your heart started to race so hard it was painful at the chance he had seen you.

“Who is that?” Heeseung was, thankfully, getting the idea slowly and lowering his face as he spoke to you. You didn’t answer immediately and he was bending down so he was closer to your face, his hand finally connecting to your arm and cupping the back of your elbow. “Y/N, who is that?”

“It’s my dad.” You whispered back in a harsh tone and you’re not sure why you said it, never talking about family or each others parents before and never planning to.

Heeseung paused for a second and then his eyes were darkening like he had figured something else out, you felt humiliated knowing he must be piecing together every strange reaction you’ve ever had to the suggestion of being brought home by Jake or for him to walk you to your door.

He was glancing behind him again and a small noise of protest slipped out of your mouth, your hands coming up to land on his chest and scrunch his hoodies fabric up in your hands. He was looking back at you quickly and his eyes softened at the scared expression on your face but could still see anger swimming in his.

You weren’t sure if Heeseung was a violent person, thinking there was no way it was possible for the boy who was as sweet to you as he was unprompted, to ever willingly harm somebody but you’d also never given him any reason to be mean or treat you poorly. You thought about his bandaged hands for a second and then immediately felt guilty for doing so.

“Let me take you home.” He was saying after a few seconds and you shook your head, too overwhelmed to think clearly for a second. “Baby, let me take you home.”

The pet name snapped you out of it and you looked up at him, feeling more and more humiliated by the second at the fact your eyes were watering and you were still anxiously bunching his hoodie in your hands.

“T-the bus is too slow, he’s just now leaving the liquor store but he has a car and by the time we walk back and get on and it makes all the stops it’ll be too late and-“ You were speaking a mile a minute and you felt his hand squeeze your arm before he cut you off.

“I’m parked around the corner.” He rushed out in an attempt to stop you so you could take a breath, freezing and furrowing your eyebrows in confusion when you registered what he was saying. He winced slightly at your reaction and a weird feeling passed through your chest. You were raising your hands off of his chest before slamming them back down against him in annoyance, ignoring the small pained sound he made.

“You idiot.” You spat out at him in a harsh whisper, shaking your head and glaring up at his guilty face. “You’ve had a car this entire time?”

He looked sheepish and you suddenly felt very stupid for somehow missing this, and then slightly flattered and embarrassed that he had been riding the bus with you every single day despite being parked in the opposite direction. It made sense now to you why he was sometimes hesitant to board, unlocking the knowledge that he had been riding it all the way back alone after you’d gotten off.

“Not the entire time.” He was trying to explain himself but you could tell he was lying slightly. “It was in the shop the first time we met, that’s why Jake drove me home.”

You sighed and glared at him again but you weren’t actually mad, just slightly upset that he had been inconveniencing himself this much for some reason you didn’t quite understand.

“I just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.” He was offering an explanation before you even had a chance to ask him and your expression softened at the reasoning, hands flatting out against him in a silent apology for hitting him.

“You’re still an idiot.” You were mumbling but your voice held no malice and he smiled at the fact he was clearly forgiven. Things felt tensioned again now that the conversation died down and you were both suddenly reminded of the fact you were touching each other and standing nearly toe to toe. “I really do have to go.”

“And I really will take you.” He was whispering back with a stressed sincerity and you frowned from the guilt of both making him drive you and not eating together like you had planned.

Heeseung was guiding you back around the buildings corner slowly, backing you up and shuffling forward with you so you didn’t need to step out from behind his chest and risk being seen. You were pouting as you awkwardly walked backwards and it remained on your face even when you were able to face forward like normal and follow him to where he had parked his car.

His car looked pretty much exactly how you figured it would, low to the ground and chipping paint in different sections of it but it was very him and you laughed softly when you remembered how ridiculous it was that he’d had one this entire time.

He seemed embarrassed when you got into the passenger seat, looking into the backseat to check if it was messy and rearranging the different CD’s that were sitting on top of his center console. You moved them over to your lap and started to mess with them while he pulled off the curb.

“Basement, Title Fight,” You were humming softly while flipping through them and reading out the artist titles, ignoring the way he was sending you nervous side glances between looking at the road. “Elliot Smith.. is this what you’re always playing in your headphones?”

“Too cliche?” He was retorting back and you scrunched your nose when you looked up at his side profile, a small smirk playing on his lips at your amusement.

“The fact you even keep CD’s still is kind of cliche.” You were throwing back to him and he glanced at you to smile fully and shake his head, watching the way you were leaned against his car door and casually looking through his stuff for a second before going back to focusing on the road.

“You still like me even though I listen to scratched CD’s and drive a 2002 shit bucket?” He was responding and you both paused.

His wording didn’t miss you but you weren’t sure if it was intentional or not, also unable to tell if he was speaking in a platonic way or if he was genuinely asking you if you liked him romantically. His mouth was parting like he was trying to think of a way to backtrack and you cleared your throat before he could, leaning forward to push a CD into the radios slot.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds and you let the song play for a beat or two before you were leaning back into his torn leather seats and glancing at him again.

“Yeah.. I still like you.” Your voice was lower than it was before, barely filtering over the sound of the music building up but you knew he managed to catch it considering the way he was biting the inside of his cheek and avoiding looking in your direction for the rest of the ride.

He didn’t need to ask you for the way to your neighborhood considering he’s been riding past it 4 times a day but he glanced at you for help when you entered the street and you leaned forward to point towards your house. Your dads car wasn’t in the driveway and you breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled up near the curb.

You didn’t think too much about the state of disarray your home was in this time, for some reason not minding if he saw how messed up things were for you. The feeling had settled into your stomach that he wouldn’t care, that he wasn’t going to give you a sorry look or treat you differently.

He was surprising you by opening his door before you’d gotten out and you watched him round the hood with confusion, flushing when he came over to your side to open yours for you and hold it while you scrambled out. You leaned against the door once he had closed it behind you and he stood in front of you like he had on the sidewalk, his dirty sneakers pressing against the toe of yours.

“So…” You were dragging out the word and trailing off nervously, looking up at him through your eyelashes and thinking about how cute he looked peering down at you.

“So.” His lips were curling up in a smirk at your lack of words and you frowned at the expression, reaching up to pinch at his arm and keep it there when he let out a low chuckle. His hand was coming up to touch your bunny hat and you laughed softly at the way he pushed it behind your shoulder, almost like it was a piece of your hair.

“We shouldn’t be talking here.” You told him in a low voice, not wanting to speak any louder considering how close his face was getting to yours. “My dad would kill me if he saw you.”

“Right.” He was nodding but he wasn’t taking a step back or making any move that indicated he was going to leave, just watching you and you could feel his arm tense underneath your touch. “Do you want me to go?”

You were shaking your head swiftly although you knew he needed to, you liked his company and you found yourself missing him every time you were away for too long. You somehow managed to have fun today despite the fact you’d almost had a panic attack upon seeing your dad and how awkward it had felt to search for him in the school.

“I should go.” He was sighing even though you had said you didn’t want him to, thinking logically despite obviously also not wanting to leave. He was leaning forward again and for a second you could feel his chest pushed up against yours before he swayed back like he hadn’t done it.

Your heart felt heavy at the fact he was going to leave you there, in such a rotten place that left you restless and miserable, but you were slightly humiliated by the large frown on your face. Before you could think about it, in an attempt to hide your expression, you were pulling him forward by his hoodie sleeve and wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

He hesitated for a few seconds, just from the surprise of the contact, and then he was slowly wrapping his long arms completely around you and keeping you pulled tightly to his chest. You could feel him take a deep breath, surrounded by his warmth and burying your face into the soft fabric of his oversized hoodie, listening to his heart beat increase slightly when you squeezed him for a second.

You were pulling back after a few seconds, leaning into the car again and you knew your face must’ve been flushed red with a dazed look in your eyes considering the way he faltered and smiled sheepishly at you.

“Well.. I have to go.” You were rushing out to him and he nodded, taking a step back so you were able to walk away without having to push past his large frame.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” His voice was lower than normal and carrying a slight rasp that made something flip around in your gut, trying not to look at him as you quickly waved and scurried away up your front path and into the doorway.

You stood there, back pressed against your front door now that it was closed, and took deep breaths to try and calm yourself down as you listened to his car pull off. A smile was building itself up on your face despite being slightly embarrassed over your bold move and you felt like a cloud of giddiness was following you around.

“So that’s what you sneak off to do every night?” Your entire body froze up in shock and you immediately stopped in place, bones going rigid and blood running cold at the sound of your fathers slurred voice coming from the living room.

Any sense or happiness or calm Heeseung had brought you was immediately disappearing and replaced with terror at the realization he was home, and had clearly seen you through the window before you came inside. You were stuck in silence and you could feel the dark tension radiating off of him although you couldn’t even see him yet.

“You’re out there embarrassing me, making a mess of our name.” He was hissing and you watched him rise from his arm chair and come out of the shadows like a fairytale monster, cowering in on yourself like you were a little girl again. “Whoring around with that delinquent.”

“N-no dad, I promise it isn’t like that I just-“ He was cutting you and your stutters off, slamming his hand down against the wall near your head and you closed your eyes in a wince, listening to the way the framed photos rattled on the wall.

A few seconds passed and you were holding your breath, waiting for him to continue to insult you and tell you what you had done wrong but when the tension continued to grow you realized he was more angry than you thought. You felt your hands hit the floor before you felt the pain in your cheek, not even realizing he had hit you for a few seconds because of the shock.

He’d hit you before but it was rare in recent years, not wanting to risk you showing up to school with a black eye or bruised cheek.

Your hand was coming up to cup the side of your face, shaking against your skin and feeling how hot and swollen it already was from his large calloused palm. You didn’t want to look at him and see his sneering face, instead staring forward at the way your bunny hat had flown off on impact and landed a few feet away on the floor.

“No more going out at night.” He was spitting the words down at you, curled into a ball against the wall on the floor and willingly away the pain under your palm. “I’ll put a padlock on your door if I have to.”

With that, he was staggering back into the darkness of the living room and you could hear the groan of the armchair under his weight. You sat there for a few more seconds, frozen and making sure it was clear for you to move before you were scurrying up the stairs and grabbing your hat as you passed by.

When you got to your room you threw it into the corner and collapsed onto your bed in a fit of sobs, burying your face deep into your pillow and crying so hard you thought you might just explode.

You felt even worse for the reason you were crying, not because you’d gotten caught or punished and not because your father was upset with you. You cried over the fear of not being able to see Heeseung anymore, the idea of never being able to safely return to the city at night causing you such distress you continued to sob until your throat was sore and your chest ached.

The sun was setting eventually and your room was darkening, never having the light switch turned on and just letting the night take over every single day, but you failed to notice considering how burrowed under the covers in your own misery you were.

You didn’t mean to care about somebody this deeply, having sworn against it after your mother passed and you were left with a shell of a man, your father becoming half the person he was with grief and never bothering to heal himself for your sake. You’d spent recent years tiptoeing around the house and trying to show as little evidence as possible that you existed, part of the reason he didn’t fully mind you disappearing at night or sleeping all day.

You felt stupid but getting caught with Heeseung after so narrowly escaping your father in the city, completely letting your guard down and being foolish because of your feelings.

But the other part of you didn’t care, you deserved to be giddy and act stupid because you liked somebody and his reaction wasn’t your fault.

Thinking of Heeseung made you remember he’d probably be waiting for you tonight and you started to cry harder again. You were worried he’d over think about your intimacy and small confession today and mistake you not showing up to the bus stop as you rejecting him, retreating back into yourself and leaving him alone like he had been before your night time meetings.

You must’ve dozed off from crying and the stress of the day, only waking up with dry skin and swollen eyes when you started to register a faint repeated noise.

You were sitting up with a puffy pout and looking around in a dazed confusion, at first because you couldn’t identify it and then even more so because you realized it was coming from your window. You staggered out of bed to open it and stop the noise and you let out a gasp, ducking and just barely missing being hit by a small stone that flew into your room.

“Fuck.” A voice down below was whispering and you glanced down to see Heeseung stood at the side of your house with his hoodie pulled up over his head. “Did I hit you? I’m sorry.”

You felt panic grow in your chest at the sight of him although you were happy to see that you had a chance to explain what had happened, glancing behind you in fear before turning again to glare at him from the second floor.

“You can’t be here.” You hissed out and he gave you a guilty look, like he knew you were going to say that but couldn’t help himself anyways. You let out a small sigh and you eyes softened at his expression. “I told you he was going to kill me.”

You didn’t need to say it for him to understand that your dad must’ve been home and you saw his face darken again like it had earlier, feeling thankful that you were too high up and it was too dark for him to see the bruise that must have been forming on your face now.

“Is he awake?” He was whispering back after a few seconds and you paused at his unexpected question.

He didn’t say anything when you held up a finger to indicate you’d be back, tiptoeing back to the other side of your room and cracking open the door. You held your breath so you could hear every noise clearly and you waited until the sound of his snores filtered up the stairs to you, confirming he had drank himself unconscious again and was out for the night. You still didn’t want to risk sneaking out and having him wake up and you walked back to your window with a heavy heart.

“He’s out but-“ You were starting to explain you couldn’t come along when Heeseung was nodding and walking towards the front of your house, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you called his name softly. He turned back to look at you and you raised your hands in bewilderment. “What are you doing?”

“Let me in.” He whisper yelled back and gave you a look like it was an obvious thing for you to do, smiling slightly when your astonished face only deepened.

You were groaning when he disappeared around the side of the house and you left your room before you had a chance to think about it more, sneaking down the stairs as silently as possibly and trying not to let out a breath when you passed by the entrance to the living room.

It was strange to see Heeseung on your porch when you cracked open the front door, even stranger when he took a step inside your hallway and you took him in against the familiar setting. You hadn’t had somebody inside your house in years and you were thankful that he kept his gaze tightly on you and didn’t look around at the mess.

You brought a finger to your lips and indicated towards the living room where your dad was, a loud snore coming from him at that exact moment and causing you to jump where you stood. Heeseung was bringing a hand up to your arm in an attempt to calm you and he nodded in understanding that he needed to keep quiet.

When you took a step on the first stair you winced and glanced back at him, knowing his weight and tall frame would make it groan louder than normal.

Still, you took his hand in yours and let it hang behind you as you gently led him up the old wood and into the hallway that would lead to your bedroom. He still didn’t speak once you entered it and for a second you were worried he would ask you to turn the lights on, thankful when he finally took a deep breath and glanced around at your belongings.

“So this is where she returns to.” He was muttering under his breath and you felt a little embarrassed as he took in your room.

Not as embarrassed as you felt when he was looking back at you intensely, you figured he could see you better now that you were closer and illuminated by the moonlight shining in from your window but you knew you were correct when his eyes were hardening again suddenly. You winced slightly when his hands were coming up to cup your face, the right one just hovering and not connecting with the bruised and swollen skin.

“This was him?” He was whispering, his eyes filtering up to stare into yours and your stomach turned at how serious he sounded. You hadn’t seen him have this look in his eye before and it put you slightly on edge.

You were hesitantly nodding your head and you knew your eyes must have started watering judging by the fact his face softened and he gently caressed your uninjured cheek, shaking his head and bringing you over to sit down on your bed.

“I’m sorry.” He was whispering to you and leaning forward to connect your foreheads, watching you with a hurt look. It was reminiscent of the pitiful glance so many people have given you throughout your life but you knew it was different, he was different.

“It’s not your fault.” You were telling him and you truly meant it, your hand coming up to rest on his wrist and squeeze it softly.

“It is though. I should’ve dropped you off up the street where the bus stops, it was stupid.” He was muttering and you wanted to remind him that you’d pointed out your house and you’d been the one to tell him to stay, but you weren’t sure it was going to make much of a difference.

You thought about the fact he was inside of your house right now, only a few hours after you’d gotten punished for even being seen with him and you snorted a teary laugh at the irony of calling such a small act, such as earlier stupid.

“You make me stupid.” You were telling him and he smiled softly at your joking tone, knowing that you were completely serious.

“You scared me when you didn’t show up.” He was saying back and his tone was serious again, brushing back your hair that was normally hidden under your knitted hat. “I was about to tear the city apart looking for you before I thought about coming here first.”

You laughed slightly at the idea of somebody as kind as Heeseung raging through the city in search of you, pressing your head harder against his before leaning back a bit so you could take a deep breath and shake your head at him.

“You’re lucky I woke up before him.” Your tone was light and teasing but you both understood the heavy truth in the statement, his face dropping again.

He had failed to take you literally when you exclaimed about your father killing you but you didn’t blame him, not liking the guilt that coated his face again as he mirrored your deep breath.

“You couldn’t have known.” You were telling him in a gentle voice but he was still not looking at you, only picking up his head when your hand was brushing through his bangs. “Heeseung, it’s not your fault.”

He was nodding softly and chewing on his lip but you had a feeling he was only agreeing to make you feel better, still having that dark guilty look on his face. You sighed softly and glanced behind you at your small bed, scooting back a few inches before looking at him again.

He was giving you a soft and tired smile, clearly understanding what you were insinuating and you tried to not throw up from nerves when you were both moving around so you could lay down on your bed together. You’d been experiencing the most intimacy you’d had since you were a kid with him and your stomach was tight with anxiety.

Heeseung didn’t seem to think much of it, flopping back against your pillows and sucking in a deep relieved sigh. His one knee was bent upwards towards your ceiling and his left arm was sprawled across the rest of the bed, leaving you no choice but to lay on top of it. He was pulling you forward slightly by your shoulders so you could rest your head on his chest and you were slightly relieved to hear how fast it was beating, despite his calm demeanor.

“How’d we get here.” You were whispering after a bit of silence and you could feel his laughter before you heard it, his warm chest rumbling slightly with the sound

“I thought you looked cute standing up to two drunk assholes.” He mumbled back and you pinched his side slightly, draping your arm across his stomach. “You should’ve seen Jake’s face when I asked about you the next morning.”

“Probably the same expression he had when I ran into the store four hours early.” You felt embarrassed to be admitting it but you liked the way it made him laugh again, gently rubbing your shoulder over the shared fact you both had been interested in each other from the start.

You fell into silence again and after a moment you picked your head up again to look at him closer, still pressed against his side but rolling onto your stomach slightly so you could study his face. He was watching you with a curious expression and your hand come up to brush his bangs back, revealing his eyebrow piercing to you again.

He didn’t say anything when you pressed against it, rolling one of the balls between your fingers for a few seconds before rubbing along his eyebrow bone until you hit the bump of metal, but his eyes darkened slightly at your fascination and you faintly felt his hand slip down to your side and squeeze it.

“He called you a delinquent.” You were whispering to him with a small smirk, raising an eyebrow as you recounted what your father had said about him. “He’d probably lose his mind if he came in here right now.”

Heeseung didn’t seem to share your amusement about the subject considering how hard his face was as you talked about it, only his eyes staying soft as he looked over your features from such a close distance.

“I’d kill him.” He was mumbling back and you snickered for a second before realizing he wasn’t laughing, his face serious as he watched you for your reaction to what he was saying. You frowned slightly and laid your hands down on his chest, rubbing it for a second before shaking your head.

“Don’t say that.” You were muttering under your breath, following it with an awkward laugh at the sudden tension in the air.

“I’m serious.” He was saying back immediately and you looked back up at his eyes, frowning deeper since you knew he was telling the truth. A part of you felt strangely prideful about it, your stomach lighting up at the fact he was so protective over you and willingly to interfere if your father busted through the door.

The other part of you was slightly concerned with his sudden demeanor, only catching glimpses of it before and brushing it off considering how gentle and lighthearted he always was with you. You wondered if it was a good time to ask him about the bandages around his hands but you decided against it.

“Then what?” You surprised yourself by humoring his hypothetical situation for a second, watching the way his eyebrows jumped in surprise. “What happens after?”

“You can come with me.” He was saying it swiftly like it was something he’d considered before, eyes remaining serious despite the fact he was noticeably being more careful with his words.

You hummed softly at him, your hand moving from his chest to trail up his neck for a second before coming back to rest again. You didn’t think anything of the movement, just absentmindedly touching him and being fascinated by the feeling of somebody else’s skin other than yours, but you could tell by the way his eyes darkened that you had caught his attention.

“Would you come with me?” He was asking in a low voice, eyes tired and lazy as he peered down at you but very much focused in on your expression as he waited for your response.

You were watching him in return and you were sure he could feel your heart beating against his arm, rolling back around so you were laying on your side again and cuddled up against his side instead of laying on your stomach and directly facing him. You knew your face must’ve been flushed by now and it continued to redden as you thought of a response.

“Of course I would.” You mumbled back and it slightly scared you how much you found yourself meaning the words.

Now it was his turn to him, low and rumbling in his chest against the side of your face. You scooted closer to him instinctively and you felt his hand gently squeeze against your side when he realized you were moving again, your shirt riding up slightly as you shifted so now his skin was pressed against yours.

You were glancing up at him at the feeling of him touching you and you awkwardly looked away when you realized he was already staring, a hazy look in his dark eyes. Heeseung’s demeanor felt different tonight, or maybe it was just the intimate setting.

“C’mere.” He was rasping out the word and the syllables were slurring together, your heartbeat so heavy and loud that you almost didn’t hear him for a few seconds. You scooted up further on his chest so you could look at him, your upper half lifted slightly so your face was hovering over his and he could bring a hand up to cup your uninjured cheek again.

“We can run away together.” He was muttering now that you were close to each others faces again, his big hand nearly covering the entire side of yours and you smiled softly at his statement. He looked slightly serious still but you saw the corner of his lip quirk up and you ducked your head in embarrassment. “I’d take care of you.”

“Oh, would you now?” Your voice was teasing and you raised your eyebrows at him, biting your lip to try and stop the big smile on your face from spreading. You let your arms shift forward again to rest on his chest and you could feel his collarbones under your palm.

He was nodding but not speaking again, watching you intensely and you felt your smile drop slightly at the look on his face. You’d been with a boy before, not all the way and nothing serious but you wouldn’t consider yourself necessarily unexperienced. Still, you’d never felt so tensioned and attracted to somebody before like you did with Heeseung and he hadn’t even tried to kiss you before.

His demeanor, confident but not ever cocky and sometimes sheepish like he acted on impulse, was the most attractive part of him to you and being in such close proximity didn’t help.

“Could you take care of me now?” You weren’t sure what pushed you to whisper the words out to him, hesitant and slow but being said nonetheless and you watch his eyes flash with something unfamiliar for a moment.

Then Heeseung was leaning forward off your pillows, his hand that was cupping your face being used to bring you forward so you could meet him halfway into a slow kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel his heart beating underneath your chest as you scooted forward more to completely lay on top of him and kiss him deeper.

You were overwhelmed by how perfect it felt to be kissing him, how warm and familiar the feeling of him underneath you was and you sucked in a small breath when he pulled back for a second before surging forward again to kiss him more.

If he was surprised by this he didn’t show it, his hand pushing up more so your shirt would ride up on your stomach and he could feel more of your side under his hand. You knew he felt the shiver wrack through you, the goosebumps on your skin at the feeling of the callousness of his and he chuckled softly into the kiss that was getting heavier with every passing second.

You could feel Heeseung biting down on your lip, almost painfully, and you were reminded of that dark expression he sometimes got. He was immediately licking over the skin he had bitten, soothing it out with his tongue and you made an embarrassing noise when he was suddenly slipping it into your mouth.

“Calm down.” He was pulling back a few centimeters to whisper to you, his voice breathy and carrying a small chuckle as he teased you for your reaction.

“I can’t.” You responded honestly, shaking your head softly and leaning in again to peck his lips quickly. Kissing him was addicting and you felt like your head was spinning from the way he was gently rubbing up and down your side so slowly.

He was laughing loudly at your response and your heart clenched affectionately at the sound, immediately followed by the reminder he wasn’t supposed to be here. You glanced over at your door nervously and when you looked back at him again he was frowning and following your line of vision, seemingly also snapping back to reality.

“I should probably go.” He was muttering and your stomach dropped painfully although you knew he was right, it wasn’t smart to get in trouble more.

“I won’t be able to come out at night for awhile.” You were telling him and your voice sounded saddened and panicked, bunching up his hoodie in your fist again like you had earlier when your anxiety picked up.

“Doesn’t matter.” He was shaking his head and petting your hair softly, raising his eyebrows to really exaggerate the fact that he meant what he was saying. “Find me at school tomorrow and we can figure something out okay? He can’t stop me from seeing you.”

You watched him in silence for a few seconds before you were leaning in to kiss him harshly again, completely drinking him in and savoring the feeling of him pressed against you in case it was the last time you got to have him like this. His hands were sliding back into your hair, keeping you tight into the kiss and moving against you just as desperately.

You felt overwhelmed at his sincere words, never having somebody so adamant on being around you, being so protective over you that he was willingly to risk his own safety just to have a conversation with you.

“You’re crazy.” You were gasping out when you pulled back for air, laughing at the way he was pressing more swift kisses against your lips as you tried to talk.

“You make me crazy.” He was slightly altering and repeating the phrase you had said to him earlier, a smile coming back onto his face now that you clearly felt better about the situation.

It took you a while to get off of him, even longer for you to actually leave your room considering the way he kept shaking his hands around your waist to pull you back in to kiss again. At one point he had you pressed against your bedroom door and you tried not to think how tensioned it felt to kiss standing up like this, letting him lean you against the old wood and explore your mouth with a heavy sense of longing and desire.

You were eventually take control of the never ending situation and pushing him out of your door with a final kiss, watching him smile at you and walk slowly down your stairs. He had suggested you stay up in your room in case the door closing woke up your father and he came looking for you, better to find you upstairs versus suspiciously in the front hallway.

You followed Heeseung’s frame, craning your neck outside the window to be able to see parts of your front lawn, and watching as he tugged his hoodie back over his head and walked a few houses down to where he had parked his car.

He was looking back at your window before he got in and the two of you watched each other for a few beats before you were raising your hand in a shy wave, smiling at the way he returned it before getting inside his car and pulling off slowly.

——

You were getting stares as you rushed through the school halls, your peers not used to seeing you so alert at all throughout the day but especially so early in the morning. You’d only slept for an hour or two but you felt energized at the idea of seeing Heeseung again as you searched for him.

The search stopped short when you were suddenly smacking into somebody rounding the corner, clearly not expecting to encounter somebody moving at the speed you were.

You both flew back from the impact and you landed on your butt a bit away from the boy, glancing up swiftly to see it was somebody you recognized, a friend from middle school who had slowly stopped talking to you after your mother died.

“Shit, I’m sorry Sunoo.” You were stuttering slightly and you suddenly remembered that conversation didn’t come easily to you, forgetting this fact considering you only ever spoke to Heeseung. “I was just-“

“Looking for Lee Heeseung?” He was cutting you off and you paused in your explanation to stare at him, his tone more judging than you remember ever hearing it. “What are you doing hanging around with him Y/N?”

He was standing back to his full height and offering you a hand but after faltering for a few seconds you paused, scoffing under your breath and standing without taking it. Once you were off the ground you were glaring at him, not liking the heavy glance he was sending your way.

“What does it matter to you?” You normally wouldn’t be so confrontational but it upset you how concerned he seemed to be despite completely ditching you alongside the rest of your friend group while you were grieving.

He had no place to judge you or who you decided to hang out with, although it confused you how worried he seemed to be about Heeseung. You weren’t sure how he even knew about the boy considering you didn’t recall ever seeing him around school or your old friends before your run in at the convenience store.

“He’s dangerous Y/N.” He was spitting the words at you but you could tell you weren’t the reason for his anger, eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked at you like he was confused if you truly didn’t understand the reason for his worry.

“What are you talking about?” You were looking at him in bewilderment and you felt your heart start to beat slightly at the fact he was clearly implying something had happened with the boy you’d spent so much time with recently. You were suddenly reminded that you didn’t know much about him, never talking about family life or what he did outside of being with you.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sunoo was sighing and you were confused at his sudden dismissal until you realized his eyes were going past your shoulder now, turning your head and seeing the boy in question standing a few feet away and watching the two of you interact.

Heeseung didn’t look dangerous to you, especially in the way he was clutching the straps of his backpack and carrying a nervous expression. His eyes softened slightly when he saw you but he must’ve registered the worried look on your face because he was suddenly turning in place and going back down the hallway the way he came.

You sighed when he pushed out the side doors, turning back to glare at Sunoo quickly before hurriedly following after the tall boy and rushing back down past the lockers.

“Heeseung.” You were calling his name once you pushed through the double doors, the cold morning air hitting your face swiftly and you winced a bit. “Hee, stop.”

He paused at the sound of your voice and you saw him suck in a reluctant breath before he was turning around to face you. You caught up to him quickly and stopped a few inches in front of him, reaching up to grab his hoodie sleeve and trying not to be offended when he flinched away from your touch.

“What happened?” You were questioning him with slightly widened eyes, looking up at him and trying to read what his face was expressing. “Why are you running away from me?”

“What did he say to you?” His voice was hardened and he was staring daggers down at you, your face crumbling at the harsh expression that you’d never seen directed your way before.

“Nothing, he said nothing.” You were shaking your head quickly and he let out a disbelieving scoff, looking away from you and clenching his jaw in agitation. “Hee, I’m serious. He didn’t say anything, a bunch of none sense I didn’t even understand.”

He was glancing down at you again like he was trying to see if you were telling the truth or not, being met with your big wide eyes and sighing softly in guilt for being so quick to anger. His hand was coming up to touch your face and you leaned into it even though you were still feeling confused over what was happening.

You didn’t say anything when he was reaching down to grab your hand gently, leading you with him out towards the parking lot where you spotted his car parked near the back. You frowned softly behind his back but got into the passenger seat anyways and watched as he started it up but didn’t pull off.

The heat blaring created a small rattling noise and you could hear the song you’d put on before still playing faintly, flushing a bit at the realization he hadn’t changed the CD and was just letting it play on repeat.

“Are you scared of me?” He was suddenly asking and you glanced over at him from the passenger seat, seeing the way he was staring down at his hands as he picked at the skin around his fingers. His legs were spread so his knee was pressing against the middle console and you reached over to place your hand on it gently.

“Of course I’m not.” You were whispering back to him and shifting your body so you could completely face him, your eyes following along his side profile and frowning at how defeated he looked.

“Even if I told you I did something bad?” He was finally glancing at you and you felt sick at how vulnerable his eyes looked, shifting nervously over your face and you hoped your expression didn’t convey how nervous you suddenly felt. “That I hurt somebody really bad?”

You were watching him in silence and it felt like the air from the car got sucked out with his words, hinting towards something darker than you’d expected him to admit. You thought back to the expression he sometimes carried, the way he spoke about your father so casually and the worry on Sunoo’s face. You watched him while thinking of this and you thought about all the other things to.

How he was always so gentle and kind with you, warm and comforting and never doing anything to make you feel worried despite most your time with him being spent alone and late at night. You didn’t know every detail about his life but that didn’t make him seem dangerous to you, he felt familiar and safe and you instinctively squeezed his knee.

“Did they deserve it?” You were finally croaking out, settling on a response that you felt properly conveyed your stance on what he was saying.

You’d thought from the moment you met him that Heeseung was similar to you and you knew the reasons you couldn’t sleep, the demons that kept you up all night restless. You tried to imagine what his looked like and you figured if you were bigger and braver, maybe you’d tried to hurt yours back too.

He wasn’t saying anything for a few seconds, just looking at you like he hadn’t expected that response and you knew immediately it had been the right thing to say. His face was crumbling and he was biting his lip to stop it from trembling, ducking his head forward to nod as an answer to your question.

You were leaning forward over the middle console to pull him in for a hug, not caring about the way the plastic pressed into your stomach uncomfortably or the burn your arms felt from stretching so far to embrace him. He’d help you more than once, brought you back from a dangerous place and a low state of mind and your heart tugged at the sight of him showing that same vulnerability now.

“It’s not your fault.” You were whispering into his hoodie and his arms were snaking around your middle, a small surprised noise slipping from your mouth when he was tugging you over the console and situating you in his lap. He was burying his head deep into your neck and your hand was coming up to rest on the back of his head, his hoodie fabric under your palm.

You didn’t need to hear the full story, you didn’t need for him to painfully recount the details or what had happened for him to do something so drastic and you didn’t need to know who.

Him softly crying into your neck and clutching onto you like a scared child was all you needed to believe him, to understand that whatever rumor or perspective others such as Sunoo had, was wrong.

He was picking his head up to look at you and your heart broke at his red face, tears streaming down his cheeks and a frustration expression coating his features like he was mad at himself for showcasing how upset he was. He was suddenly pressed against you in a kiss and you hesitated for a second in surprise before kissing him back.

You were pushing his hoodie off his head so you could put your hands through his shaggy hair, pulling him tighter against you and feeling the way his wet face was pressing onto yours.

“You can’t leave me.” He was gasping into your mouth and his hands were shakily coming up to cup your face, tilting your head softly and humming into the kiss when you were licking into his mouth and leaning forward so his back was pressed against the car door.

Heeseung was moving a hand down towards your back and you could feel him continuously tugging you forward into him, your hip bone pressing against his stomach as you both found comfort in each others touch. You let him do this for a few seconds longer before you were pulling back a bit to address what he had said.

“I’m not going to leave.” You were gasping as you said it, still trying to catch your breath and he was shaking his head before tugging you forward again, a small noise slipping from your mouth at the feeling of him dragging you up further into his thigh.

“I’m serious.” He was still speaking into your mouth and you pulled back further to look at him, the dark expression back in his eyes now as he watched you. “I’d go crazy if you left.”

It slightly unsettled you how serious he sounded, how he really stressed the words like they were the most important in the world. His hands were still holding onto you tightly like he was terrified you’d slip away if he let up even a little bit and your eyes bounced around his face for a few seconds before you were nodding.

“We can be crazy together.”

“You can’t leave me.” He was gasping into your mouth and his hands were shakily coming up to cup your face, tilting your head softly and humming into the kiss when you were licking into his mouth and leaning forward so his back was pressed against the car door.

Heeseung was moving a hand down towards your back and you could feel him continuously tugging you forward into him, your hip bone pressing against his stomach as you both found comfort in each others touch. You let him do this for a few seconds longer before you were pulling back a bit to address what he had said.

“I’m not going to leave.” You were gasping as you said it, still trying to catch your breath and he was shaking his head before tugging you forward again, a small noise slipping from your mouth at the feeling of him dragging you up further into his thigh.

“I’m serious.” He was still speaking into your mouth and you pulled back further to look at him, the dark expression back in his eyes now as he watched you. “I’d go crazy if you left.”

It slightly unsettled you how serious he sounded, how he really stressed the words like they were the most important in the world. His hands were still holding onto you tightly like he was terrified you’d slip away if he let up even a little bit and your eyes bounced around his face for a few seconds before you were nodding.

“We can be crazy together.”

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung #jake enhypen #heeseung drabbles #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #enha fics #enha angst #lee heeseung #heeseung angst #heeseung fluff #heeseung au

[ao3commentoftheday]

I got a response to a post like two weeks ago that I've been thinking about ever since: how do I know whether I'm writing for myself or for others?

Sometimes this is an obvious answer and sometimes it's harder to pin down, especially when so often we're doing both at the same time - at least if we're posting our writing online.

Writing a story is one activity and posting that story to AO3 or tumblr is a different activity. Doing the first one doesn't necessarily mean doing the second. If you go into a story without the intention of showing it to anyone else, then you can feel pretty confident that it's just for you. But what about the times when you go in knowing that the end result will be read by others?

Fandom is a community space. Even when we write something self-indulgent, we often want to share it with others or to hear others tell us they enjoyed our work. That's normal and healthy and makes us an active and participating community member. What's not so healthy is when that desire for feedback becomes the sole driving force behind our writing. If you find yourself only writing in order to get that feedback, then you're most likely writing for others and not for yourself.

But that's also a scenario that lots of people talk about. You've probably heard that before - maybe even from me. What if that's not the issue, and yet you still feel uncertain about who you're really writing for?

That's when you need to start listening to yourself. And I don't just mean check in with your feelings. I mean listen to your own thought processes and reasons for making choices.

Are you developing a character in a direction that you think the fandom would like, even though you don't find that direction particularly interesting?

Are you pulling your punches in your whump or angst scenes because you don't usually write stuff "that heavy" and you don't want to "lose your audience"?

Are you making your smut tamer? Kinkier? Trying to satisfy someone else's idea of a hot scene instead of writing what you'd actually want to read yourself?

The decisions you make around your writing should please you, more often than they don't. If most of your decisions are based on the reaction of your imagined future readers, then you might be happy with the ship or the plotline or the resolution but feel less than satisfied about the smaller bits and pieces that make up the fic.

Give yourself the gift of not posting everything you write. Keep some of it back and just for you. Spend time on those works and really analyze why you're doing what you're doing there - and why you're not doing it in the works you share. Figuring out the difference might help you get a better idea of how to find the best way to reach the only guaranteed audience you ever have: yourself.

#thinky thoughts #I have no idea if this helps or not #but I hope it does?

[redamancyys]

All Around Me - Kaz Brekker

WARNING(S) ◆ smut, piv sex, oral (fem recieving), cursing, unedited.

WORDS ◆ 3.7k

REQUEST(S) ◆ based off of this request, though i did stray a little. basically kaz and the reader have sex for the first time!

AUTHOR'S NOTE ◆ sooooo this ended up being a lot steamy-er than i intended, but i hope that you enjoy it, because i definitely liked writing this one!

To say that the desire was eating you both up from the inside was an understatement. 

Kaz had never wanted a person the way that he wanted you. It was a raw, carnal desire that came from deep within him. He had never been a person who ached for touch until he met you, he wished that he was able to be the man that could grab you by your hips without spiraling into a panic, or could kiss you for as long as you wanted without having to take a break because his internal thoughts were becoming too much to handle. 

You would always explain to him that it wasn’t his fault. 

Hushed whispers, your hands placed ever so carefully on his clothed body, trying to keep him grounded whenever the aversion got too bad. You had seen him at his worst, where he had to put his head in between his knees in order to stop the flashbacks from coming back to him. Though sometimes no matter how hard you tried, Kaz would morph back into that little boy again, feeling his brother's dead motionless flesh against his own as he floated back ashore. He would feel alone, no matter how much you tried to explain that you were here, he didn’t have to worry, he wasn’t there, he was safe.

And what was even worse, he felt like he was somehow disappointing you. He was with you, but you couldn’t even touch his bare skin without him spiraling into a mess. No matter how many times you explained that you were there for him, that you were always going to make sure that he was okay, there was still a piece of him that wished he was different. But Kaz’s wishes never came true, it would never magically go away. He had to face this head on if he was ever going to be able to properly love you, and for you, he was willing to try anything. 

That had been a few months ago, and since then the two of you had worked very hard to overcome his aversion. You went slow, placing bare hands against each other, small kisses, anything that you could think of that would be enough to help but also just enough to not make Kaz feel uncomfortable. It had gotten to the point where you two were able to cuddle with one another, his hands could go up and down your spine and paint small drawings on the skin of your arm and legs. And you could do the same towards him. After a while, you both were able to take your tops off, explore those parts of your bodies, and every time you went farther, the desire began to creep its way into both of your chests. Both of you were aware what the next step was, you both weren’t dumb, but neither of you had the inclination to talk about it. It was like the two of you were dancing around the conversation, doing everything that you could to not bring it up. 

Wylan and Jesper were always talking about it. Well, that was a lie, Jesper was usually the one that would talk about it with you. He always talked about the pining, the excitement of getting to explore your lover's body . . . it was something that you wanted but had never experienced before and before you knew it, you were sitting on your shared bed with Kaz, trying to concentrate on a book while he did his paperwork at his desk. You took a moment to stare at him, watching as his hands pressed against the paper, quill etching sounds into the silence between the both of you. You took your bottom lip into your teeth, sucking in a harsh breath. You could do this. 

“Kaz, I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

You could’ve gone about it a different way, because the moment Kaz stopped what he was doing and turned to face you, there was a hint of worry in his expression. Most of the time when a person told another that they had to talk to them about something, it was bad news, and you were quick to assure him that it was nothing of the sort. “Nothing bad, I promise. I just wanted to bring an idea up to you.” His face immediately softened, one that you knew he didn’t share with many. You took a moment to study his expressive eyes, your own going from them to his lips, the ones that you wished were kissing the delicate skin on your body. Giving him a tiny smile, you said, “I wanted to see what you . . . thought about having sex with me? We’ve been getting to that point for a while now and I just thought that it wouldn’t hurt to ask if you wanted to go all the way?” 

This was definitely something that he wasn’t expecting to come out of his mouth, especially because of the unspoken barrier between the both of you when it came to talking about these types of things. Of course he wanted to, saints, if he could he would take you right then and there but you and him knew that it would take a lot more mental preparation on his end for this to happen. And perhaps for a moment you thought that you had struck a nerve with him, that he would dismiss the idea and you would leave to compose yourself, but that was far from the truth. Instead he set down the quill and turned to face you completely, his gloved hands playing with one another as an attempt to ground. You didn’t move, eyes attentively staring, waiting for him to say something. Kaz eventually opened his mouth to say, “Of course I want to have sex with you.” He said it as though you were dumb thinking that he wasn’t, but you knew that this was his way of trying to guard himself from the actual thoughts that came into his head. “I think I just need a little time to prepare first-” “Yes! I know, I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable first,” You cut him off, not wanting him to think that you were going to pressure him. 

Soon enough you two were discussing the logistics, almost as if you were scheduling a business meeting of a sort. It made you chuckle at first, but as the days went by, closer to the date that the two of you planned to finally go the final step, your nerves began to jumble up. 

~

You sat down at the edge of his bed, very reminiscent of a few days ago when you popped the question, but instead of Kaz sitting at his desk, he was sitting beside you. His breathing was slightly rigid, he was nervous which you completely understood. In order to comfort him, you placed your hand on his gloved one, looking at him with a look of kindness in an attempt to show him that you were nervous too. 

“I love you,” You said to him. 

“I love you too, Y/N.” 

One finger at a time, you began to pull his gloves off of his hand, and then the other one, setting the pair onto the bedside table. You held one of his hands with yours while the other one made its way to the back of his neck, pressing soft kisses to his lips. Kaz responded by putting his hand on your waist, eagerly kissing you back. He pulled you closer to him, until you got the idea of straddling his waist, legs on either side of him as you sat on his lap. This kissing went on for a while, semi for comfort but also for pleasure, as you knew that you would never get tired of kissing Kaz Brekker. His lips tasted like honeyed tea and you relished in the notion that you would be the only one who ever got to taste such a sweet thing. 

You were still sitting on his thighs and you needed him more than ever now. That familiar feeling that bubbled up inside of you whenever you two got this far began to resurface, causing the kissing to become even more fast paced, filled with want and need. Though the most enjoyable part was that the two of you were having fun, taking moments to stop and admire one another. For a moment a sly smile came across his lips and you wiped it away with a kiss, going back to the fast pace that had been set before. Your hands came and tentatively went under his shirt, feeling the taut skin of his chest with calm and courteous fingers, not wanting to upset him, though clearly beginning to fog up the idea of being gentle. The thought of him above you with a body like that? It made you falter in your movements. He was beautiful, and you were sure that you would never allow him to forget it. 

Using the break in your concentration to his advantage, Kaz began mouthing along your skin, knowing that your neck was sensitive in a multitude of places and skimming your skin with his teeth ever so gently, hands pulling up your shirt above your head. His eyes scanned your body, raising an eyebrow. “No bra?” He asked, making you shy away and look anywhere but at his face. You didn’t reply, but he seemed to not like that. His hand came and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. You gave a small smile, “I wanted to be comfy.” He hummed, somewhat disappointed in your answer but not disappointed at how compliant you seemed to be with him. Kaz went back to kissing your neck, teeth grazing along your soft skin, making you jump whenever he bit down on a particular spot. 

You were beginning to grow impatient. Perhaps it was with the way that he was worshiping you, wanting to kiss every single inch of you and make you keel into his touch over and over again. Or maybe it was because no one had ever made you feel this way before. You hadn’t been with others before, never trying to get this far with the men of Ketterdam for fear of ruin or awkwardness in the morning. You had only longed for Kaz before. 

His hands found your breasts, squeezing them and kneading them together, fingers coming to pinch your nipples. Your back arched into him and you almost fell over on top of him, using your hands on his muscles to stop you. You reached and decided you wanted to please him, to show him how much you wanted him. You trailed your hands under his shirt and came to the band of his pants, pushing your fingers past it and making your way down. Before you could hit his obvious hard on, one of his own hands came and grasped your wrists, pulling your hand away. You looked up, thinking that you did something wrong. Tilting your head, you gave him a silent what? Maybe you had made him uncomfortable, and he was trying to come up with a way to tell you off. 

Though that didn’t seem to be the case when Kaz’s lips offered a smirk. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” Kaz explained. In one movement he put his hands to your back and flipped you two over, him now on top of you. Your head hit the mattress with a small humph and wondered what he had in store for you. 

You worked with him to shimmy your pants and panties off, throwing them to some side of the room. His hands splayed against your thighs and you watched with an open mouth to see what he was going to do. He gave you a look, a familiar one that reminded you that you were actually here with him, no one else, the two of you were doing this amazing thing together. Your heart swelled with adoration as you thought that this was the man that you loved, the one that you trusted more than anyone else in the entire world. You were also well aware of the slick that was beginning to coat your thighs, body betraying you and showing him how much you wanted him, how you ached for him. Kaz seemed to like it though, bringing his flesh hand to your slit and scooping some of it up. When he brought his hand back up, you could see the way that it glistened on his skin, popping a finger into his mouth and humming sinfully at the taste. He did it again and again, humming every single time your arousal hit his tongue. You looked down with heated cheeks, feeling a little embarrassed that you were getting so worked up over something so small. “You taste . . .” He trailed off, bringing his tongue to your folds and swiping up from your hole to your clit. “Amazing.” 

“It’s all for you,” You said, wiggling your hips and urging him to pleasure you again. Kaz smirked, feeling a sense of pride wash over him at your words. He brought a finger to you and pushed it in, watching your mouth open into a wide ‘O’ at the feeling. He curled it up, making your muscles tighten around him. Kaz built a steady pace and he came back up to your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek sweetly as if he couldn’t hear the lewd sounds that were being created when he added a second finger in. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” He said, towering over you. His thumb rubbed against your clit while his fingers fucked into you. “To see you under me like this.” The both of you seemed to have this desire for each other for the longest time. 

You moaned out at his words, thighs clenching around his hand to keep him there. You couldn’t respond, too busy thinking about the steady fire that was building in you. You reached to climb higher, hoping he would grant you some kind of release. He didn’t give it to you though. Instead, whenever you were getting to that tipping point, he would stop all of his movements altogether until you stopped shaking, then repeat the process over and over again. It was making you go crazy, how he had the power to push you towards release but he just wouldn’t do it.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t. As if to test you further, he pushed a third finger into you, making you moan out his name loud and roll your eyes to the back of your skull. His thumb kept rubbing languid circles on your clit. You thought if you stayed quiet you could sneak an orgasm, cut him off guard. But as if he heard your thoughts, his movements stalled and he put his other hand firmly on your hips so you couldn’t even move against his statue-like hand. His dark eyes bore into your own and you squeezed around his fingers. “You make me feel so good, Kaz.” The praise fell from your lips with ease, lava pooling in your stomach as if threatening to burst at any moment. If only he would just rub a little bit more . . .

He pulled his hand away from you. Kaz didn’t even respond to your statement and you wondered if you said something wrong, if he had enough. And he had enough all right, but not enough of you. He wanted to see you cum, just around his cock and not his fingers. But you couldn’t hear what he was thinking, which made you whimper when he pulled himself away fully, standing at the edge of the bed. You opened your legs up to him, the farthest that you could go without hurting yourself and hoping that it would make him come back to you quickly. Your clit was aching from several denied orgasms, almost thinking about pulling your hand down to finish yourself off, though deciding against it when knowing Kaz would never allow something like that. He liked seeing you writhing like this. 

Kaz’s hands shed all his clothing. He wasn’t exactly putting on a show for you but you marveled anyways, watching the way that his muscles flexed when his shirt came off and how you wanted to lick all around his abdominal region and make your way all down to his cock, which was pressed against his stomach and slightly glistening with precum. It was big and felt your insides clench just thinking about it sliding into you. Once he was satisfied with his clothing off, he came back down to the bed and kneeled between your spread legs. 

“Kaz,” You whispered. “Please.” 

There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and it took all of your strength to not roll your eyes. “What do you want me to do to you?” Of course he wanted to hear you say it, to announce what he was inevitably going to do. You couldn’t ignore the way you loved how controlling he was with you, how he ordered you to do some things. And as much as you hated that he didn’t let you cum, you also loved how he would make you cum when he wanted you to, not you. He took his cock into his hands and rubbed the tip against your glistening folds, teasing you in the most sinful way possible.

“Please . . . Fuck me Kaz. Make me cum, I can’t take it anymore.” You just wanted him inside of you so badly, you were going to scream if this went on for any longer. He was right there, denying you both the pleasure. With a nod of his head, he pushed into you in one fluid motion. The feeling of him bottoming out inside of you made you grip onto his bicep, pulling him close so his warm chest was against your own again. He wasted no time moving, the sound of it deliciously sweet in your ears. Kaz took your legs and pushed them upwards, your feet hanging off of his shoulders and pressing your thighs further up until they were almost hitting the mattress. The change in position had you crying out, feeling him hit deeper inside of you. 

You could feel every single scrape of his cock against your walls, increasing that fire in your stomach until you were sure you were about to cum. He kept at it with such loyalty and vigor, his motivation to make you feel the best you ever had fuelling him to a tenfold. He was such a devoted man to begin with, so you should’ve known that he would handle things the same way in bed. 

You squeezed around him. “Please,” You whimpered. 

“Go ahead.” Those two words were all you needed, allowing yourself to scream out as your orgasm ripped through you, built up again and again and now it was finally here and it was amazing. It rippled through you like shockwaves, and made you go limp under him, legs completely boneless. Kaz didn’t let up as he rode through your orgasm, keeping the same pace with you. He was unforgiving, not giving you time to adjust and instantly making you feel the feeling of overstimulation. You were so sensitive to his cock ramming in and out of you that you could feel a second orgasm already building up. The tip of him hit a particularly nice spot in you and you yelled, curling your toes and your hands came to tangle and grip in his hair. You almost stopped for a moment thinking that you were hurting him, but when you looked at his face, you saw only fucked out bliss, white incisors showing in a ravenous grin. His eyes opened and they were almost fully dark, making you shiver. 

“You feel so good,” He mumbled, as though he was talking to himself. He was completely thrown into the pleasure that you were giving him, hot and warm and just perfect , like you were made for his cock to be rammed into over and over again. “Made for me, all for me.” He used your past words, them never losing their meaning no matter how many times he muttered under his breath. 

Time seemed to slow and grow faster at the same time, the whole room disappearing as both of you focused on only each other. You weren’t sure how many times he had made you cum at this point, you took whatever he gave you and took it well. When you got enough strength to crane your neck down, you watched as your hole enveloped his cock, it coming back out slicked with the remnants of your past orgasms. Kaz saw where your eyesight was and a sense of pride washed over him again. “Do you like watching that? Seeing how well you take me?” He asked, egging you on. His hand went to grab your own and placed it on your lower abdomen, and you could feel the skin slightly raising up every time he went into you. You could see it too, sliding in and out. Though, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself, his movements were beginning to falter. He was becoming more sloppy with his hips and you knew he was about to cum. So, to give him what he had worked for, you wiggled your hips up, matching his hips. Your oversensitive clit rubbed against the base of his cock and you were clenching around him, and as if on cue, you were cumming again, feeling weak under him. Kaz wrapped his arms around you and pulled you up, his cock splitting you open until he was spilling inside of you. 

The moans that left his mouth were probably the hottest things you had ever felt in your life. You could feel his cum dripping down his cock, coating your thighs and dripping onto the soiled sheets. He put you down on the bed and followed you, eyes watching your own and kissing your sweaty forehead. He finally stopped moving and stilled inside, not wanting to leave you. He didn’t want to leave this moment and neither did you. 

#kaz brekker smut #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker #six of crows fanfiction #six of crows fanfic #six of crows #netflix shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone #kaz brekker angst #grishaverse fanfiction #grishaverse

[shadowynn]

| the paradigm complex | one |

pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

genre: yandere!vampire!cult!poly! ateez au

warnings: yandere behavior, some cursing

They'll do whatever you ask. Anything you need. Anything you want. It's yours. They'll fulfill your every desire and whim. Give you the life you had always dreamed about.

And in exchange, you wouldn't just give them your soul. Oh, no. They weren't demons. What good was your soul alone when your purpose was better served alive and well? Your soul was nice, sure but it wasn't all they wanted. It wasn't all they needed. They needed your body, your mind. Your blood. You entirely. Every single fiber of your being was essential and would soon be theirs and theirs alone.

The moment you signed that contract, everything would change. For them and for you.

You just didn't know it yet.

And there was nothing you could do about it.

wordcount: 4.8k

a/n: it's here! perhaps a bit shorter than i expected, but as i was getting into things, i figured this was a good place to end the first chapter. i am so incredibly excited for this project and can't wait to start getting into the nitty gritty of it all. if you weren't around for the preview a while back, or just missed it, this piece is inspired by the movie 1BR with the addition of vampires, because I just can't help myself. (though, these types of vampires won't be like your typical vampire) this work will be a lot different than my other, in both writing style and in content, as it will have an overall, much darker tone. sure, they'll be plenty of fluff pieces. like i have so many scenarios in my mind i want to do (helping mc move in and putting furniture together, random shopping trips, movie/game nights, letting mc do laundry at their place when your machine just so happens to 'break' etc.) but their relationship with mc will not exactly be the healthiest. hope you all enjoy :)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“So, what do you think?”

You were startled from your thoughts at the voice that spoke up next to you. The empty seat beside you now occupied by the sweet-talking man who had been your tour guide for the day - Yeosang if you were recalling it correctly. It had surprised you how young he had been when you had signed in for the open house an hour or so ago and you were once again struck by that very same notion as he plopped down next to you, pocketing his phone and propping his head up with his right arm.

“It’s very nice,” you replied, eyes once more taking in the scene around you. After touring the available unit for the first half of the showing, you had been brought to the center of the complex that was used as a community center. The outdoors area was enclosed by the building around it and included everything from a garden and greenhouse to a swimming pool and grilling area. “And the community also seems great.”

You referred to the young boy currently sitting in your lap, content with scribbling over one of the applications you had been given at the end of the tour to fill out. You didn’t know anything beyond his given name, Junseo, but he had become attached to you when you had noticed him crying on the ground near the edge of the garden. While the others in your group had swept their eyes right past the sniffling child, you had approached him, rustling through your purse for the bandages you kept there when you noticed the cut on his knee. His mother had thanked you profusely when he had led you to her, too busy attending to another part of the garden to notice what had happened. And though you had left him with her, it didn’t take long for him to return to you, preferring your calm company over the few other kids scattered around the grounds while his mother worked.

You thought it strange, but the wave his mother sent you when she saw him with you told you she didn’t mind. It made you wonder just what sort of community there was here for her and the others to be comfortable letting their children run unsupervised, especially with people they didn’t even know. 

It was just another piece of evidence of how nice this place was. You had heard the rumors, but seeing it in person was something else. There wasn’t a single factor about this place that deterred you in any way, and the longer you spent here exploring it, the more you fell in love with it. It was absolutely perfect, everything you could ever wish for, but-

“But…” As though he had read your mind, the man finished your train of thought, a hint of a smile tracing his lips as his eyes traveled to the papers you had left for Junseo to scribble over.

“But it’s a bit out of my price range, I’m afraid.”

A bit was an understatement; the place was double what you could reasonably afford. Though you had known that going in. Since The Paradigm had popped up a few years ago, it had quickly risen the ranks to become one of the most prestigious and highly exclusive apartment complexes in the city. You had known the price for the available unit would be high above your budget, and yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from signing up for the open house the following weekend when you noticed a few spots were still available. It wasn’t often units opened up, with the last one being nearly a year ago, and the timing had been impeccable.

You weren’t really looking for a new place to live. You had one in the south end of town with your boyfriend, and yet, that hadn’t stopped you from looking at available housing in the city on your laptop late at night when he was still at ‘work’, but you wanted out. You had wanted out for months now since you had first caught wind he was cheating, and still cheating, but it had always seemed so impossible. You were still finishing up your last year in school, and even with working enough hours to be considered full time at the bookstore, you could barely afford your half of the rent. A fact he readily reminded you of any time you threatened to leave him. As much as you hated every time he said it, he was right. You did need him. Unless you were willing to sacrifice your own safety and move into a shitty unit in a sketchy part of town, you were stuck exactly where you were. You needed him and he was more than happy to hold it over your head.

Perhaps it was because of this that you had come out today. He had been scheduled weekends at the hospital for the month, leaving you more than free and able to come to the open house without him questioning you on your whereabouts when you left. The Paradigm was a life you could never afford, and yet, it was nice to escape reality for a few hours. To sit and imagine what your life would be like if you hadn’t landed yourself in such a sticky situation. And yet, you hadn’t expected the stab of melancholy that had hit you as you had roamed the studio apartment available, nor as you sat here in the courtyard with the pleasant buzz of the complex’s current tenants as they took advantage of the beautiful day.

“Does that mean you’re looking for a place on your own, then?” he asked, attempting to blow back the piece of hair the wind had cast in front of his eyes.

“Myself?” you asked, unable to stop the tiny stab of panic that ran through you at the mention of you being on your own. Was that something you could really do? Was leaving him something you could really do? “Uh, yeah, it would just be me.”

“Well, if you ask me, it doesn’t hurt to still apply. We’re always more than willing to negotiate prices for the right person,” he hummed, fingers tapping against the table. “Though it would probably be best if I grabbed you a new copy. Junseo seems to have taken yours for himself.” At the mention of his name, Junseo looked up and matched the goofy smile Yeosang sent his way.

“That’s very kind of you, but even then…” You turned your face away, fighting the blush the embarrassment your current situation brought. Despite attempting to dress up for the event, you still stuck out from the others who had signed up. The designer clothes and custom handbags a stark contrast from the outfit you had thrifted the day before. Hell, even Junseo had nicer clothes than you to run around the garden in. “To be completely honest, I really just wanted to get an inside peek of this place. I knew I couldn’t afford to live somewhere like this at the moment, or perhaps ever, but I thought it might be fun to just imagine it for a moment.”

You resituated Junseo’s position in your lap, taking in the people milling around the grounds. It was a beautiful day, bright and warm compared to the rainy days that had plagued the city for the past week. It was the perfect day to spend time outside and enjoy what little remained of summer and you could see yourself fitting in well here. Helping out in the garden in between playing with the few children scattered about. Maybe even take a dip in the pool afterwards to cool off from a hard day’s work before lounging in a nearby chair to soak up the last bits of the summer sun.

It was just too bad it was a lifestyle you could never afford on your own. Not while you were still in school and already struggling with bills and debt as it was.

“But you are currently looking for a new place to live, right?”

“It’s not an immediate necessity at the moment, but yes,” you nodded, “if given the opportunity, I would move in a heartbeat. Not just here, but anywhere. As long as it was safe and something I could call my own.”

“Then fill out an application.” He ruffled around in his bag, pulling out another application and pushing it towards you. “I’m close with the owner and can put in a good word for you. Just fill it out, list the rent you can feasibly pay at the moment, and we might be able to work something out. After all, we’re much more concerned about quality than quantity here at Paradigm.”

“You would do that?” Your eyes widened, wondering why on earth this man would do that for you when the rest of the group you were with would be willing to pay twice the starting rent just for the opportunity to say they lived in the most exclusive complex in the city. “Why?”

“I like to think I have a nose for good people,” he smiled, fingers tapping against the application, “and you’re a good person, y/n, I can smell it. So, come on, Junnie,” he reached for the boy on your lap, ignoring the pout that crossed his lips as he took him from your hold, “let’s get you back to your mother so the pretty lady can fill out her application.”

He left you at that, but only made it a few feet before he was stopped by a nearby couple in the tour group. By the glance they sent your way, you knew they had overheard Yeosang’s mention of putting in a good word for you and hoped to earn a similar feat for themselves. After all, it didn’t matter who was the first person to apply for the unit or who was the highest bidder when it came to The Paradigm. You didn’t get to choose whether or not you lived here. They chose you. And a good word from the tour guide was exactly what you needed to get in.

Not wanting to stick around for the conversation, Junseo wriggled his way out of Yeosang’s grasp and made off in the direction of his mother with one last toothy grin in your direction.

You turned back to the second application he had handed you, twirling the pen in your hand as you mulled it over. None of it made much sense in your mind. Why would they select your application when there were hundreds of others that would willingly pay triple what you could? But even if that was true, and the chances of you getting in were close to zero, what did you have to lose?  What was the worst that could happen? That you’d be left exactly where you started. In a shitty situation, but no shittier than it already was. And on the tiny chance it did go through, well, your entire life could change. You would have that fresh start you had been yearning for so long.

That and, well, there was something charming about Yeosang, something about him that was enticing. It didn’t slip your notice that he had called you pretty in passing, and though you knew it was just the way his personality seemed to be, you still felt a pull towards him. He was someone you could get along with, that much you could tell. Someone that you would enjoy getting to know and become friends with if you had the chance to. 

So, before you could overthink it and talk yourself out of it, you pulled the application closer towards you and began filling it out.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If there was one thing in life that stressed you out, it was phone calls. You never knew what about them always caused your anxiety to spike each time you saw an incoming call flash up on your phone screen, but you avoided them as much as you could, preferring to either text or talk in person. So, when a call from an unknown number interrupted the song coming from your car’s speakers, you made to silence it knowing that if it was important, they would just leave a message. However, something about the number on your screen seemed familiar and made you pause., 

You didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment, not after all the shit you had dealt with the first half of your shift for the day, but your finger still hovered over the accept button as you quickly searched your brain for the reason behind its familiarity. Thinking it might just be your doctor finally returning your call for the refill you had been waiting for or even possibly a call on one of the countless job applications you had been filling out the past few weeks, you grudgingly accepted figuring it would be better to get it over with now instead of living with the stress of what it might be the rest of your shift. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this l/n y/n?”

“Um, yeah.” You shifted the phone in your hand, trying to place the familiarity of the voice on the other end. “This is y/n.”

“This is Kang Yeosang from Paradigm. I’m calling to let you know that your application for unit 604 has been accepted.”

“Wait, are you serious?”

You couldn’t hold back the gasp his response elicited, but you were able to catch the string of curse words before they slipped out. Despite Yeosang’s promise of putting in a good word for you, you had never expected anything to come out of it. Not when you had followed through with his suggestion and wrote down the actual amount you could feasibly pay for the place. And though you had held on to some hope something would come from it, you had already come to accept the fact you would never hear from them again. 

“I can assure you, I’m quite serious,” he chuckled. “I talked with the owner about your application and he was more than willing to accept it as long as you were willing to accept a few additional stipulations that I’d like to discuss with you now if you have the time.”

“Oh, okay.” 

You did your best to hide your disappointment, already fearing the worst. Despite Yeosang’s insistence they were willing to negotiate on pricing, you should have known they would never just drop the rent in half for you because he had felt pity towards you.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like we’re going to ask you to sell your soul,” he chuckled. “You see, one of our administrative assistants recently put in her resignation and we’re in need of a replacement. When we looked over your application, we noticed the address of your current residence and place of work are on the other side of the city and came to the conclusion you would likely be in need of a job with a better commute if you were to move here.”

You felt yourself begin to relax; the dread his earlier statement had caused slowly being replaced with excitement once more as he began to explain himself. Was he alluding to what you thought he was?

“We’d like to extend a job offer towards you here at The Paradigm, which if you were to accept, would cover the cost of your rent in addition to a biweekly stipend to cover any other expenses you might have.”

“And what exactly would the job entail?” you asked, trying hard to cover the shock his reply gave you and trying just as hard to not let your hopes get too high before you figured out exactly what it was he was offering you. There had to be a catch. The offer was just too good to be true. So what was it? “I’m finishing up my last year of university online, but I would still need some flexibility in my schedule to account for my classes.”

“Oh, it would just be your typical administrative work. You’d mostly just be assisting myself and the other managers here and we’re more than willing to work around your class schedule,” Yeosang replied without skipping a beat. “I understand this is quite a bit of information for you to go through and a big decision to make, so please take your time. I’ll be sending an email to you here soon that includes a detailed description of the job alongside the logistics of your pay and housing for you to look through when you have a moment. It will help in giving you a clearer idea of just what you would be signing up for if you were to accept.”

You were silent, unsure of what exactly to say. What could you say? Everything you had wished for the past few months was finally being extended towards you. A new job, housing of your own, and most importantly, a way out of the toxic relationship you had been stuck in for so long. All of it. Everything you dreamed of for so long, now within reach.

There had to be a catch, right? It couldn’t be as good as it seemed, right? So, what was it? 

“Like, I said, you don’t have to give me an answer now. Read through the emails I’ll be sending you and just give us a call back sometime within the next two weeks when you’ve decided.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You had briefly looked over the emails Yeosang sent you over the last few minutes of your lunch break, but it wasn’t until the next morning that you had a chance to sit down and really go through them, bogged down with school work when you had gotten home from work the night before.

You were curled up on the couch with a blanket, nursing a cup of tea as you read through the email for the fifth time that morning, trying to figure out what the catch was. But just as always, you couldn’t find anything. Everything seemed straightforward and in order. No loops or holes or questionable activities in sight. The hours were flexible to account for your current classes, and they only required you to start working full time when you graduated at the end of the year. And yet, despite only having to work half the hours you currently were, it was still enough to cover your rent and utilities, as well as a more than generous stipend as long as you agreed to stay with them for the next two years. 

There were a few other stipulations lined out towards the end of the agreement, but they were menial tasks compared to what you had been expecting, and something all occupants were asked to follow. It was mostly spending a few hours every month volunteering in the community garden - which also paid out in receiving part of the harvest for free - and then donating blood every other month as long as you were in fit condition to do so. You had found this last one strange until you remembered reading about how The Paradigm also ran their own blood bank which served the nearby hospitals, and requested their residents give through the program as part of their fee for living there.

You sighed as you reached the end of the email once again, eyes glancing up at the apartment around you. As usual for a Monday morning when he was working weekends, your boyfriend was nowhere to be found. He claimed work as the culprit per usual, but you weren’t oblivious to his charade anymore, not like you used to be. It wasn’t work that kept him out so late. It wasn’t his twelve hour shifts running long that kept him sleeping at the hospital instead of coming home. And when he finally came home tonight long after you had already gone to bed, you’d be stuck acting like nothing was wrong on the following days he had off.

You had wanted out of this hell for so long, but just always assumed it would be impossible, especially at your current stage in life. He was several years older than you and had a steady, well-paying job as a nurse at the nearby hospital. His offer had been so enticing when he had asked you to move in with him nearly two years ago, but that had been a different time. A time where his pretty face and charismatic character had swept you in before trapping you here with him with no way out.

You didn’t understand why he was so intent on having you stay. It was clear his interest in you had waned over the past year, but anytime you mentioned leaving, he flipped. Those were the nights when everything became blurred. You always went into the conversation with the full intent of leaving, oftentimes bags already packed and ready to go, only to find yourself curled up in bed with him once again the following morning, head pounding, memories blurred, and bags unpacked and put away. 

He was always sweet to you in the days that followed, giving you his full attention and telling you how much he needed you and how much you needed him. Of just how important you were to him and how he would never be able to survive without you. But his words were only ever short lived, and he’d be back to his old habits a week or so later, creating an endless cycle with no way out. Or at least you had always thought.

All you had to do was accept the offer in front of you and you would have that fresh start you so desperately craved. No more shitty relationship. No more shitty job. No more shitty apartment. And no more feeling like complete shit because of all of it.

In front of you was the opportunity of a lifetime. An opportunity to live at one of, if not the most, prestigious complexes in the city, and for all intents and purposes, being paid to live there. All you had to do was accept. Accept the offer they had handed you and start your life over again. 

And as Yeosang had joked, they weren’t even asking for your soul in exchange. It was simply being the right person at the right time. Not that it had mattered, you’d probably give it to them anyways if they had, gladly giving it away for the hell you lived in now.

Your hand hovered over the phone beside you, debating whether or not to call the number Yeosang had left for you and make the active decision to finally change your life.

“Thank you for calling The Paradigm Complex, how may I help you?”

You didn’t recognize the voice at the other end, signaling it wasn’t Yeosang you were speaking to this time around. And though it did make you a bit nervous, unsure of what the other workers might be like, Yeosang had promised everyone there was a delight to work with, including the upper management.

“Um, hi, this is l/n y/n, and I’m calling about my acceptance into unit 604.”

“Ah, Miss l/n, it’s a pleasure to hear from you. I’m Jung Wooyoung, one of the other Property Managers here at the Paradigm. Is there a question I can help you with or do you by chance have an answer towards your acceptance here?”

“Well, I’ve gone through the email you sent me a few times now and I think…” you paused for just a second, taking one final look at the apartment around you. “I think I would like to accept your offer if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful to hear! We’ve all been very excited to have you on board with us here after everything our Yeosang has had to say about you. He has a great eye for people, after all,” he chuckled, easing some of your earlier worries. Yeosang was right. He seemed nice. And if these were the types of people you would be working with, it would be a vast improvement over your current workplace. “We’ll need you to come in sometime within the next week to go over and sign some paperwork before everything can go through and we can hand you your keys. Is there a time or day that works best for you?”

“Oh, well, I’m free today if that works,” you reply, feeling more eager than ever to finally go through with it now that you had finally made that first step. It was really happening. You were getting out of here. “It’s last minute, I know, so if not, I don’t think I’d be able to come in until Friday afternoon or Saturday morning.” 

It was only a partial lie. You would probably have time to make it in before their office closed tomorrow or any time on Thursday, but then your boyfriend would start to get curious as to why you were either out late, or going out when you didn’t have work. And until all the paperwork was signed and everything was certain, you didn’t want to mention any of this to him. Not when he would do anything and everything to keep you from following through and leaving him.

“We could definitely fit you in sometime today if that’s what works best for you,” he replied and you could hear the distant clacking of a keyboard. “I don’t think Seonghwa is too busy today, so I’ll send him a message and let him know you’re coming in so he can help you get everything signed and situated. Does around two work for you?”

“Yeah, that works great.” It was impossible to keep the smile off your face as you switched your phone over to your other ear. “Do I just come in the same entrance I did for the open house?”

“The gate to the parking garage will be locked, but just page the front desk when you pull up and I can let you in. From there, just park where you did before in the visitor section and I can once again let you inside the building when you get to the door.” He paused for a second and you hear the muffled sounds of voices as someone approached him. “Sorry about that,” he continued after a few moments, “Seonghwa just popped in, so I let him know you’d be headed this way in a few hours. He told me to let you know that either Mingi or Yunho should also be free around that time to draw a sample of your blood for testing. That way we can see if you’re fit to be a donor with us during your stay, so make sure to drink plenty of fluids and eat beforehand.”

“You do it all there?”

“We have our own clinic on the property, yes, and though it’s mostly used as a blood bank for our give-back program, our staff on hand is also available and qualified to help with any other medical needs you might have during your time with us. All of which is completely covered.”

“Oh, wow.” 

“It’s just one of the many added benefits you’ll have while you’re living and working here with us. All of which will be gone over with Seonghwa when you’re finishing up your paperwork later this afternoon,” he replied, and you could hear the chuckle your earlier response caused. "We like to think of The Paradigm as its own individual community here in the city and aim to be as self-sufficient as we can, so if there’s anything you ever need, just ask. We’re always more than happy to help each other here. Our only request is that you return the favor for us whenever the roles happen to be reversed.”

And they will. Oh, they will. You could count on that.

They'll do whatever you ask. Anything you need. Anything you want. It's yours. They'll fulfill your every desire and whim. Give you the life you had always dreamed about.

And in exchange, you wouldn't just give them your soul. Oh, no. They weren't demons. What good was your soul alone when your purpose was better served alive and well? Your soul was nice, sure but it wasn't all they wanted. It wasn't all they needed. They needed your body, your mind. Your blood. You entirely. Every single fiber of your being was essential and would soon be theirs and theirs alone.

The moment you signed that contract, everything would change. For them and for you.

You just didn't know it yet.

And there was nothing you could do about it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist: @penguichuu @peppermint-tea-life @mrcarrots

just let me know if you would like to be added/deleted from the taglist! :)

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #vampire ateez #ot8 #ot8 x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #san x reader #yeosang x reader #jongho x reader #wooyoung x reader #yandere ateez #yandere

[discordantwritings]

Captain’s Orders (Buggy x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, angst, Buggy is bad at feelings, canon typical violence, oral, PiV sex, creampie

WC: 8.4k

Summary: Getting a job as the chronicler of the Buggy pirates was the best, then worst, then best thing that ever happened to you.

Notes: The second I realized I hadn’t done a solo buggy fic I wrote this I’m so sorry buggy

No one tells you how hard it is to keep a job on a pirate ship. Unless you manage to land with a big name captain the chances your job sinks to the bottom of the sea is pretty high. Which is what happened to your last three jobs- you were so tired of ending up on a dingy paddling away from a lost battle that you had no say in. You were a chronicler after all- not exactly a fighting pirate.

Despite being a non-essential crew member a chronicler was a sought after person. Every pirate thinks they are going to be the one to find the One Piece so, naturally, every pirate needs to have someone to log their journey to becoming king of the pirates. It was a little tiring, hearing the same story over and over again, writing the same few chapters only to end up waterlogged and searching for a new ship at the end.

But you needed to eat and you could only afford to live at this tavern for so long. You’d posted your services on the local board, listing your name and where you were staying in hopes of drawing in a pirate captain. One that hopefully won’t be going under in less than a month. And if you were really lucky- one that wasn’t so painfully textbook.

Really you should have known the gods were going to get you for wishing that.

When the clowns first walk into the tavern you wonder if you missed some signage that a carnival was coming into town. But when a distinctly dressed blue haired pirate captain walks in behind them- you put it all together. The Buggy Pirates were docked here. Their chronicler probably had their hands full but at least it wasn’t the same boring-

You notice when the barkeep points Buggy the Clown in your direction. The two of you make eye contact across the room and you quickly run through your memory to try and figure out what you could have possibly done to be hunted down by a big name pirate. As his heavy boots thud against the wooden floors you can’t think of a single time you’ve even brushed shoulders with any clowns let alone pirate ones. As Buggy looms over your table you frantically try and think of a way out of whatever sorry situation you’ve accidentally gotten yourself into only for that hurried train of thought to be abruptly derailed.

“You the chronicler who has that ad posted?”

It takes you probably too long to respond with a squeaky- “Yes?”

“Great!” The clown takes the chair next to you and sits down, quickly putting his feet up on the table. “Do you have examples of a resume or whatever?”

“You don’t already have a chronicler?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop it and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying more stupid things.

“Nope.” He shrugs and you see the rest of his crew settle in around the tavern.

“Oh. Well-“ You reach off to your side and take out a leather bound journal that has some of your work plastered in it. “Here’s some snippets.”

As you hand it over to Buggy you feel as his sea green eyes rake over you for a few moments before he finally takes the book. He flips to the first page, looks at it for maybe all of two seconds before snapping it shut. “How would you write about me?”

Then why did he even- “Well I think- see people sometimes assume a chronicler only writes down the basic facts are events but I think a real chronicler tells a story that the average person didn’t get to see or hear about. For example a lot of people heard about the Straw Hats taking you out at Orange Town-“

He sits up a bit, gaze hardening but you quickly continue. “But- I think there’s a different story there! They fought the fishmen so soon after your encounter with them and it’s no secret that the Arlong Crew was pushing their luck in the East Blue. So the story there should really be about how you used your genius to let the Straw Hats go and sent the Arlong Crew after them- letting your opponents fight it out and weaken each other.”

There’s a long pause where you feel the clown practically searing holes into your skin with his gaze until he finally breaks into a smile that rivals the one painted on his face. “That’s exactly it! You get it! People just need to hear the right side of the story! Start writing that down. That'll be your first entry as our chronicler.”

That is probably the most presumptuous way you’ve ever been offered a job but you certainly were not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Great!”

It’s only after Buggy then orders a round of drinks in celebration and the cheering begins that you realize something.

“I don’t have to wear a clown costume do I?”

You didn’t have to wear a clown costume but already in the few weeks you’ve been a member of the Buggy Pirates your wardrobe had gotten more colorful. A sequin scarf here- a bright blue shirt there- these things just landed in your bunk and it did help you fit in. You minded it less than you thought you would, being in a crew that actually put thought into how they looked was a pleasant change.

You tied a striped sash around your waist over your pants as you prepared to have your nightly debriefing with your new captain. During the day you flitted about the ship, taking notes on everything that happens. Every night though Buggy always wanted a check in. From letting him know what happened while he was doing other duties, to telling you some previous journeys that he and his crew had been, to embellishing the stories of the day.

It was nice having a captain who actually cared about what you were writing. Most had just left you to your own devices and didn’t much care for your craft beyond the fact it made them look good. But Buggy actually wants to listen to your words and he provides some actual good feedback (admittedly in a sea of crazy unbelievable ideas, but the point still stands).

Journals and pens tucked under your arms you navigate to the captain’s quarters, finally feeling comfortable navigating the large ship after walking this route twice a day. It’s not that long before you’re knocking on the large door and hear Buggy’s voice, muffled through the wood.

“C’mon in.”

You push through the door and see Buggy behind his desk, face laying sideways on a pile of paper. You take a seat across from him.

“You alright?” You ask, eyebrow raised.

“Being a captain is not all fun and games my dearest chronicler.” He pushes back on the desk, flopping back in his large seat and swinging his feet up on the desk, knocking over the papers in the process. “Responsibility is a heavy burden to bear.”

You look over the mounds of untouched paper work that have been sitting there since you first arrived. “Seems like it.”

“But now you are here to save me. Tell me my story weaver- what is the tale of the day.” When he looks at you you know you have his undivided attention. There was something so fulfilling about capturing his attention, something you’ve learned is so finicky and flighty. But for you? He’s never been distracted.

“Well, it’s been a pretty standard day.” You go into every detail that matters- what acts were practiced, who's flirting with who, what crew member Richie managed to bite a finger off of- that kind of stuff.

“You know- we should have a whole section where we track body parts Richie has eaten and see how many full people can be put together with the parts.” Buggy adds as you finish up your recap and you huff a laugh as you write that down.

“I think we’ll have a lot of spare fingers.” You point out.

“Good point. Full bodies and hands.” Slightly more sensible… kind of.

“Got it. I’ll start logging and asking around for people who have lost limbs to Richie.” You make the note and you see out of the edges of your vision as Buggy’s legs come off the desk and he leans over, getting a bit closer to you.

“Y’know I’ve told you many stories already- what about you?” His head settles in his hands, perched up by his elbows.

“What do you mean what about me?” You tilt your head, genuinely confused.

“Your stories! You said you were the chronicler for a few ships before mine, you must have had some adventures out on the great wide East Blue.”

“Ah, well… no.” You admit a bit awkwardly.

“No?” Buggy raises his eyebrows, clearly looking for more.

“I was just a chronicler. I didn't really do anything on the previous ships I worked on. Hell, you’re the first captain who actually wants to hear about what I’m writing. For everyone else it was just an ego trip to have someone writing for them…” Your pen slips into your journal as a placeholder as you close it and pull it close to your lap.

“That’s…” Buggy frowns. “What losers! Most pirates won’t know talent if it slaps them in the face.”

You try to bite back your smile but it’s pretty ineffective. “You’re very kind captain.”

“You’re going to have to learn to take some compliments because with my crew? We are going all the way to the top and your stories of our journeys are going to be known across all four seas!” As he talked he stood up, wildly gesturing as he talked about his grand plan.

When other captains of yours had talked about getting the One Piece it had always annoyed you for some reason. The hunt for fame and money was… well it was cliche. But there was something about the earnestness that Buggy talked with- the grand scale he always thought on that made you believe it.

“Well, I guess I will have to work on that.” You say as you look up at him.

“Yes. Captain’s orders.” He hops up to sit on his desk just adjacent to you. His right foot lightly knocks against the side of your left calf.

“Then I’ll have to do it.” You smile wide, his energy was infectious.

“But seriously, not a single story? There has to be one fun thing you can tell me.”

“I guess… there was this one time-“

You break into a small, stupid story but Buggy hangs on your every word. The second you’re done he shares a similar experience and you go back and forth like this for hours, journal where you were supposed to write these things down long forgotten. Somewhere along the way you both ended up sitting on the floor, leaned up against the desk and legs side by side as you both gesture wildly through your stories. You don’t know how long this goes on, but when you feel yourself fighting to open your eyes after you blink you think it might be way late.

“I should get to bed.” You nudge Buggy’s shoulder with your own, working up the strength to stand up.

“Oh yeah it’s like-“ His hand detaches and he grabs something off his desk before bringing it down to his face. “Oh shit- 3 already?”

“Wow-“ You look at the clock he grabbed and sure enough, 3:21 am. “Yeah I really need to get to bed. You too, captain.”

You get up with a grunt of effort and once you’re standing you turn around and offer up your hand to help Buggy up. There’s an awkward pause as he looks up at you and he must be just as tired as you are with how long it takes for him to clasp his hand in yours and pull himself up.

“See you tomorrow night captain.” You squeeze his hand before letting go and walking out the door.

You’re not sure why you feel a low buzz in your body, nerves up from some unknown source. It’s not a gnawing anxiety… something else you can’t place. No matter what the second your head hits the pillow you’re out like a light, body getting ready for another long day.

The Buggy Clowns were weirdly affectionate. Not all of them, mind you, you don’t think you’ll ever get Cabaji to even smile at you, but the camaraderie they have is intimate. Most of the time not in a sexual way (though you’d be remiss to ignore the raunchier performers in the circus), but in friendliness and touchiness. Never before have you been on such an affectionate crew.

Every time you put more than 10 seconds into your appearance you got hoots and hollers from most of the crew members. When you grab lunch in the mess people fight over who gets to sit with you and be documented. Even Richie has a soft side- you’ve managed to pet him without adding a body part to the now running list.

It’s been a few months now and they still fight over you at meals- a quirk you would have thought would die out long ago. Everyone is eager to tell you about their day and try and loop you into spending the rest of the day with them. Today the tightrope walkers win out- or at least they think so. Secretly you’ve made a schedule for when you follow each group and no one has caught onto your pattern yet. But it makes it easy for you and makes it so no one is favored.

But when they cheer and lean into you, arms wrapped around your shoulders you still feel like shrinking away in embarrassment. It’s not bad- you can’t deny the little ego boost it gives you- but there’s something that always makes your face burn. But all that is nothing compared to Buggy.

You quickly figure out that, like all crew attitudes, it trickles down from the top.

Of course Buggy isn’t going around hugging crew members (when he’s sober) and he does lose his temper often, but there’s also a softness to him. He’s got nicknames for everyone, and everyone gets their time in the spotlight. He personally reviews all the circus acts and when someone wants to do something new it’s rare he says no.

Everyone in the crew is a misfit, but because of that, no one is. A group of people who have never felt respected or wanted before suddenly find themselves belonging- it makes sense why everyone was surprisingly warm. But you still have a hard time handling it, especially when it comes to Buggy.

It’s the damn nicknames.

Story weaver, dearest chronicler, writing star. And the worst part? It’s always his.

My story weaver.

My star.

Never in a tone that makes you feel owned or degraded- quite the opposite really. You’re treasured, respected, seen. It’s been too long since you felt that way and the reblooming of those emotions was… uncomfortable.

But you don’t think you’d ever want it to stop.

“My lovely chronicler-“ It’s Buggy who suddenly throws you out of your thoughts with affection and a hand on your shoulder. “I have to cancel our meeting tonight.”

“What? Why?” You want to kick yourself for sounding even slightly hurt.

“Not your fault- turns out I’m a few days behind on planning out supply orders for when we dock tomorrow.” By a few days you know he means he hasn’t thought about supplies since they last docked.

“Oh, well, do you need help?” The second you finish your sentence you feel a light elbow in your side from one of the tightrope walkers but before you can turn to look at him your attention is grabbed by a clap from Buggy.

“Great! See you tonight!” He says, already walking away.

You turn to the source of the elbow. “What was that for?”

“I’m sorry, you totally just got suckered into doing all his paper work.” He says apologetically.

“Yeah, he’s done this with just about every crew member. You’re the only one who doesn’t know his trick.” Another one explains.

“Well, he is the captain, he could just make one of us do it.” You say, still very confused about this whole situation.

“Yeah, but then he has to admit that he messed up and needs someone else to do his work. This way he is just, I don’t know, reveling in his crew’s generosity.” Yeah, that sounds like him.

“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight am I.”

“Nope.” You get a few reassuring pats on the back as you slump onto the table.

“Captain?” Later in the day you knock on his door and come in at his usual ‘come in’.

You walk in and see papers everywhere. There’s no organization, no sense that he’s actually began to work on anything, just papers on almost every flat surface you can see. You don’t think half of these are relevant to what needs to be done.

“My darling most beloved star.” Buggy calls from behind his desk. He’s laying it on thick so you don’t run away.

“Did one of your bombs explode in here?” You carefully walk over to his desk, hopping over random papers on your way.

“Yes?” It’s obvious he’s lying.

“Well… I guess we have our work cut out for us.” You make it across from him and start looking at papers, trying to find some sense.

“Yes. I trust you implicitly- now I’m just going to go-“ He stands up and you glare at him.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You’re a little annoyed, but there’s no real malice in your words. Despite that, Buggy still shrinks back.

“But you’ve got this.” He says, confidence quickly draining from his voice.

“It would go a lot faster if we work together. Come on. We will start by organizing. Figure out what actually needs to be done for tomorrow and go from there.” You gesture to the mess on his desk before you get to work on the papers discarded on the floor.

“But-“

“No.” You cut him off without even looking at him- you know he’s using his puppy dog eyes.

“Fine.” He grumbles and you hear the shift of papers that tells you he’s at least pretending to do something.

It takes you hours to get everything sorted but after that the actual work doesn’t take that long. You have a pretty good knowledge of what supplies everyone needs and the average use of those supplies in a day- you write it all down typically. All in all you’re done and dusted just before midnight, an accomplishment really.

Buggy is moping at his desk, the reward of a job well done isn’t really enough for him after he actually had to put in some effort. You’ve set up a schedule for him too- something he’ll probably ignore but you’re pretty hopeful.

“That’s it right?” His voice is partially muffled by his face being smooshed down into the wood of his desk.

“Yes, we are all done for the night.” You reply, straightening out the last stack of files on his desk.

“Yay.” His voice is flat and devoid of all joy.

“You’re pretty childish for a captain, you know that?” You take a seat across the desk, not quite ready to leave.

“That’s part of my charm darling.” He lifts his face so his chin is resting on the desk.

Darling.

That was a new one.

“It’s not your best feature but I guess it is a part of your whole deal.” You admit, still trying to shake off the weird stirring of emotions from the new pet name.

He perks up instantly, sitting up in his chair. “What’s my best feature?”

“Hm?”

“You said it’s not my best feature, which implies you know my best feature. What is it?” His smile is wide, matching his face paint.

“Ah-“ Well. You know exactly what his best feature is but you hesitate to say. It’s not what a pirate captain typically wants to hear but… well he’s anything but typical.

“I think your best feature is that you care. Genuinely. You yell and stomp around at the crew but you always make sure all of our needs are met. To some people finding the One Piece is just the thing pirates do but you care with every fiber of your being. When you want to do something, really want to do it, you throw yourself into it for better or for worse. Your risks end up paying off more often than not and I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

There’s an awkward pause where Buggy’s smile drops a bit and he stares at you and you think that you’ve fucked up. He is still a pirate captain with an ego and not telling him that his strength or intellect was his best feature was a dumb mistake. But then he coughs, a fake awkward cough and you’re not sure what’s going on.

“Oh that’s- yeah- I mean what am I if not the best captain to work for in all of the seas.” The smile returns to his face but there’s something you can’t place and you feel like you’ve misstepped.

“It’s late- I should go-“ You stand up and quickly head to the door but Buggy’s voice stops you right before you exit.

“Hey-“ You turn and look at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” There’s more hovering in the space between you but none of it can be put into words.

You leave.

Even if the Buggy pirates were worlds different from any other crew you had worked with they still party like every other pirate crew after a victory. Just a little more explosive. Literally.

You had never seen fireworks before so you were laying down on an upper deck while the loud party raged a few decks down, reveling in the bright and colorful explosions that shattered across the sky. You know Buggy made them all himself, he was surprisingly talented in pyrotechnics. It was overwhelming to your senses in the way that Buggy often was-

You’ve found yourself thinking more and more about him recently. You don’t want to think about what that means so you just shove those things down and focus on the shimmering colors dancing around the sky.

Until, of course, your captain finds you.

“My star! We are all missing our chronicler at the party!” His head peaks up over the ladder as he calls to you but you wave a dismissive hand.

“I’m just enjoying the fireworks, I’ll be down later.” You say, perched up on your elbows.

Buggy pulls himself all the way up the ladder before walking over and taking a seat next to you. “I’m glad someone is enjoying all my hard work.”

“I’d never seen fireworks before tonight.” You admit, laying back down fully.

“Really? Well I’m glad I could introduce you.” He lays down as well, only a few inches separating you two as you both lay flat on your backs.

“It’s- I mean I have no idea how you do it. It’s seriously magic.” You turn your head to look at him, admiring the profile of his face under the multicolored lights of the fireworks.

“It’s all chemicals and patience. I know, surprising that I have that.” He looks at you, a sly smile on his face.

“There really is nothing our fearless captain can’t do when he puts his mind to it.” You half joke, nudging his arm with your elbow. “But really- how do you get all those different colors?”

“Well-“

As the different fireworks explode in the sky he tells you the different chemicals he used to get the respective colors and effects. Somewhere in the explanations and pointing he’s right next to you, arms and thighs pressed together. You can’t help but lean into his warmth against the cool wind of the sea.

“I guess there will have to be a chapter on fireworks in your chronicle.” You say after the fireworks slowly die out, all of them used up by now.

“You can just slide that chapter in when things get too boring. Wake readers up with an explosion!” His hand gestures over both of your bodies.

“I’m not sure there will be any time where your story will be too boring. I’m pretty sure just by being a clown pirate you’re always interesting.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Buggy turn his face towards yours. In turn you move your face as well, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face.

He’s really quite beautiful in the moonlight.

“Do you really think that?” He asks, so quiet you almost don’t hear him over the low drone of the party below.

“Of course.” You answer automatically.

“I uh-“ You see a panic set over his face and you wonder if you’ve done something wrong. He sits up and you sit up in turn, confusion on your face.

“I should get back down to the party. It’s been-“ He stands up and practically trips over his own feet. “Nice.”

You watch him quickly descend the ladder and you’re suddenly very aware of how cold it is out on the deck at night.

You’re not sure what you did, but you messed something up.

You stop having your nightly meetings. It’s once a week now and he blames it on the recent partnership with Alvida and her crew but you know there’s something else. You got too comfortable with your captain and distance had to be created. You were disrespectful and you needed to learn your place.

You weren’t his anymore.

Chronicler, sure. Star, sometimes. You almost despised when he used your actual name. The burning feeling of being discarded weighs in your chest every time you see him.

It was only after how painful and hard you took the slightest bit of rejection that you realized you might have feelings for your captain. Stupid inappropriate feelings. You hadn’t put the label on it before, pushing any feelings down into the pit of your gut but with how quickly they turned sour you couldn’t help but feel them rise up and burn your throat.

Stupid how you realize these things too late.

Because now there’s a new crew, a new partnership, and plenty of shiny new objects for Buggy to be enamored with. None of them you.

You still did your job through- dutifully chronicling each day. Your emotions will pass and this job is still far and away the best you’ve ever landed. You won’t throw it away over a stupid unrequited crush.

It’ll pass.

Someday.

But today isn’t that day as a pang rings through your chest as you see Buggy loop an arm around Alvida’s shoulder and pull her in close. You know there’s nothing going on between the two of them (you’re fairly confident Alvida doesn’t swing that way) but seeing him pay attention to someone else the way he paid attention to you-

You sounded like a child didn’t you.

You were just about to excuse yourself from the area when Buggy spots you and calls you over with a quick shout of your title. Taking a deep breath you steel yourself and put on a smile before walking over.

“Yes captain?” You say, overly formal as you hold your journal close.

“I was thinking maybe you could do a few weeks with the Alvida pirates, you know, get a better look at their side of things! Wrap them into the story of the Genius Jester!” He gestured grandly with his free hand.

“Oh, well, if that’s okay with captain Alvida…” You look towards the dark haired woman who shrugs.

“I’ve never had a chronicler before so I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing what it’s all about.”

“Great! Our perfect partnership continues!” Buggy looks at you. “How’s a month sound?”

A month. He wants to get rid of you for a whole month. You swallow down your emotions. “When have I ever not followed my captain’s orders?”

“You are a loyal crew member. And it’s not like you aren’t going to see all of your crew mates! It’s just shifting focus for a bit.” It’s true, both crews frequently overlap ships but you know you’re going to be glued to that gaudy pink ship (not that the ship you were currently on wasn’t gaudy, just a different kind).

“Fine by me captain.” You say, making your voice as cheerful as possible.

“Great.”

“Good.”

There’s a long pause where the two of you are just standing there, Alvida casting glances to both of you.

“Well if that’s all I’ll go pack some of my things for my stay.” You say, already taking a step backwards.

“Yes, good idea! Always taking initiative!” He waves goodbye and you turn around as fast as possible, walking at a brisk pace when you really want to run.

Working with Alvida wasn’t bad at all. You checked in with her once a week and she was pretty receptive to your work, provided you added in a lot of extra pages about how beautiful she was. At first it was annoying, but once you got used to it she was surprisingly nice to you.

You were two weeks into your month with her and she was already asking you about how to hire her own chronicler. It was rewarding to know that you’ve done a good enough job so far that she would seek out someone like you. You were working hard, trying to shift your focus from your emotions into something more productive.

It didn’t work.

Every day you found yourself looking around the decks hoping to catch a glimpse of your captain visiting. He was never there.

You saw plenty of your other crew mates- both crews frequented both ships as you sailed together. It was nice having that familiarity, but the reminder that you were specifically sent away while they got to go back to their ship every night stung.

“Ah, chronicler.” Alvida’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, having zoned out while recording what the meals were for the day in the kitchen.

“Hello Alvida, was there something you needed?” Your finger slipped into your journal as a placeholder as you turned your attention to her.

“Yes. I just finished discussing some business with Buggy and your good work came up.” You couldn’t help but puff up a bit- You did want him to know you were still exceeding at your job. “And then he made me an offer that I’d like to extend to you. He said if I wanted you full time I had his permission, so. Would you like to be my chronicler?”

There’s a full 30 seconds that you have to take to process the words that were said to you and come up with a response that doesn’t sound like your heart just got shattered into a million pieces.

“Oh wow, that’s quite the offer I- uh-“ Your mind is struggling to work under the weight of your emotions and Alvida catches on that you’re overwhelmed.

“It’s a big change so you can take some time to think about it. Just come to me when you have your answer.” She gives you a curt nod before heading off, leaving you with your spiraling thoughts.

You manage to hold back your tears until you’re at you bunk, burying your face in your pillow to catch your flow of tears. There was something so painful about being shipped off to someone else, being so unwanted he couldn’t stand to work with you anymore. You’re not even sure what you did wrong which might be the most frustrating part.

If you could lead this all back to one action you took maybe you could make it better- maybe you could go back.

But you didn’t.

You know when you’re not wanted.

Later that day you knock on Alvida’s door and accept her offer. All your stuff is already on her ship so you don’t ever have to step foot on Buggy’s ship ever again.

It’s easier that way.

A month has gone by of officially being the chronicler of the Alvida pirates. It’s… fine. Painfully fine. Perfectly average.

You stop wearing bright colors, swapped out for the pinks and reds that cover the ship. You still keep your old clothes, tucked away in a box that also has the journal you used to chronicle your time the the Buggy pirates. The sequins and stripes keep it safe and far away from you, letting you pull back at the last second before you obsessively repour over the pages to find where you went wrong.

You were getting better.

You stopped crying every night, you stopped longing looking over the bow at Buggy’s ship, you stopped searching for him whenever your old crew came over.

The lingering feelings will pass soon, and you eagerly count down the days until your heart patches itself up and moves on.

It was easy to ignore your emotions during a storm. All your energy focused on locking up your stuff and going where you were needed- you were a chronicler but all hands on deck meant all hands.

It was a nasty storm- lighting and high waves bashing against the hull repeatedly and ruthlessly. You were down below deck, sent on your own to grab emergency medical supplies from deep storage, two crew members had already broken bones and there were probably going to be countless other injuries before the storm let up. Boxes shoved in your arms you were making your way back up to the medical bay when you heard it- the sound you never want to hear below deck.

The sound of wood breaking.

You hear the hit of a strong wave before the groaning of wood and then that dreaded sound. You only have a second to process it before you hear the flood of seawater rushing in. Dropping the boxes you quickly jump to the ladder, scrambling up as you hear water flooding in behind you.

You make it up the ladder and halfway to the next one before the next wave hits. Your world jolts under you and you’re flung to the floor and the back of your head hits the deck- hard.

Your vision swims as you feel sea water rushing over your body and you push yourself up, ignoring the nausea overwhelming your senses. You crawl to the ladder, water threatening to grab and pull you under. Grasping the rung of the ladder you try to pull yourself up before your realize just how hurt you must be.

The pain, the blurry vision, you barely have control over your body. There’s no way you can pull yourself up the ladder. The sea was going to take you and you didn’t have the senses about you to swim. It was over.

You hang your head, watching the water swell up around your body as you wonder if all your works will go missing to the sea. Maybe there will be nothing left of you. Or maybe someone will find your journal- just dry enough that the words haven’t dissolved and run together. Maybe someone will remember you.

Somewhere in the distance someone shouts your name.

You’re confident it’s your addled mind playing tricks on you until it’s louder and right above you- loud and frantic. You look upwards and see Buggy, rain soaked and panicked.

Now you’re really confident you’re seeing things.

“Grab my hand!” He lays down on the deck above you and extends his hand and everything becomes real painfully fast.

“Get out of here! The water- You can’t-“ You yell out, head throbbing.

“I said grab my hand! Captain’s orders!” He shouts and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.

Gathering up all the strength in your body you pull yourself up a few rungs until you can reach out and grab his hand, quickly being violently pulled up the rest of the way.

“Can you walk?” He asks, yanking you up to your feet. You fall into his body, answering his question for him. “Alright.”

Suddenly one of his arms is under your knees and the other is around your shoulders and you’re being carried, your vision obscured by Buggy’s clothes. It’s better that way, you think hazily, to see him and not your death waiting to swallow you up. Maybe it’s a trick your mind is playing and you’re down in that lower deck, knocked out and drowning. But as you curl up against him and your thoughts fade to nothingness it’s a trick you’re willing to accept.

If your last thoughts are of him it’s not a bad way to go.

You wake up with a start- jolting up in bed before realizing how much that sudden action hurts. Your hand flies to the back of your head and you realize it’s been bandaged up.

“Hey- take it easy.” Eyes flicking up you see Buggy standing up from a chair in the corner of your room.

Your room- back on Buggy’s ship.

“You really should lay back down.” He’s a few steps closer now and in the dimmed light of the room you can finally get a good look at him.

He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, he probably hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his normal face paint is missing. He’s down to just his vest and pants, normal bright accessories missing.

The memories of the ship sinking come rushing back to you and a panic sets into your chest. “Wait what happened- the ship- the crew-“

“Hey, hey, it’s alright calm down.” He sits down on the bed and takes one of your hands in his. “Alvida’s ship sank, but we managed to get everyone out and on here before she went down.”

Your breathing evens out and you relax a bit. “Good.”

“We were calling everyone to get on board here right when you had left to go grab supplies- you were missing so I came and got you.” He explains, putting the remaining pieces together for you.

“You-“

“Just wanted to make sure you woke up alright so now I-“ He drops your hand and stands up. “Will go.”

He gets to the door before your words stop him.

“You shouldn’t have done that. It was- you could have easily died. You can’t swim and you didn’t even-“ You screw your eyes shut, brain still putting itself back together from the hard hit.

“Captain’s duties.” He explains shortly, hand still on the doorknob and not looking at you.

“Yeah but, you’re not my captain. You made it painfully clear you did not want to be my captain.” You swing your feet off the bed, glaring holes into his back as weeks of repressed emotions come leaking out the broken and battered seams.

“It’s not like that-“ He says, forehead meeting the wood of your door.

“Then what is it like then? Because I’m just confused and hurt! I don’t understand!” Your hands fist in the sheets of your bed as tears well up in your eyes.

“Please don’t-“ He turns around and you see the hurt in his eyes. “Don’t cry.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong!” You shout, hot tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.” He wrings his hands and looks down at the floor. “You’re too- you’re too good for me.”

The words ring in the dim space and confusion comes over your already frazzled mind. “What?”

“You- okay.” He takes a deep breath and shift from foot to foot. “You have this grand idea of who I am. You think I’m smart and caring and a good captain and that’s just not true. I’m not any of those things. I’m just a huge faker. I was never meant to be a captain- I just keep doing it because I have to.”

You look over his anxious form and finally see what he’s been hiding under all those flashy clothes and bright face paint. He was truly and painfully insecure.

You go to stand up, slipping off the bed to try and land on your feet but your vision blurs and you slip and you’re sure you’re going to crack your head on the floor again. But before you can land your being held, Buggy’s hands having quickly detached and grabbed you. The rest of his body runs over only seconds later, connecting his hands back and placing you delicately back on your bed.

You’re sitting up again, Buggy anxiously standing next to the bed as he looks over your body, checking to make sure you’re okay. This time you reach out, taking Buggy’s hand despite the fact you can see him wanting to run away again.

“Buggy, you’re really stupid sometimes.” You see his face shift into pure confusion and you elaborate. “I don’t think those things because of all the acts you put on- I think those things because that’s what I really think after spending so much time with you. I know who you are, don’t think I don’t.”

Buggy practically collapses, sitting next to you on the bed. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” You grip harder on his hand, pulling yourself closer to him.

“Because I don’t want to disappoint you.” He admits, his voice cracking under his emotions.

“You- all this time- Buggy, look at me.” You pull at his hand, urging him to follow your directive.

He does and you see all the emotions you’ve been feeling swirling in his eyes. “I care about you. And I don’t care if you think you’ll disappoint me! I just want you.”

You feel something break as you stare into each others eyes and in a flash he’s on you- lips pressing harshly against yours. He’s messy and harsh and frantic as he overwhelms you and you let him. Your freehand tangles in his hair and holds his head close. Neither of you break the kiss until you absolutely need to, pulling away gasping for air as spit still connects the two of you.

“Do you mean it?” He whispers, forehead pressed against yours.

“Did it feel like I meant it?” You grin, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t know… I might have to check again.” You see a smile creep back onto his face and you pull him in again.

He kisses you like a man starved, eagerly throwing himself into you. He nips at your lips, pulling playfully as he slides on top of you, your body sliding down into the bed in turn. You can’t tell if his hands are attached to his body or not as you feel them wandering your skin, pushing up under the hem of your shirt and grabbing onto your waist. You whine into his mouth and he pulls away quickly.

“Did I- sorry is this too fast we can-“ You shut him up by pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“I want more.” You say against his lips and he nods so furiously you think his head might fall off.

His lips trail down, kissing where your jaw and throat meet. As he does so you feel a deft hand undo the fastenings on your pants and sliding into them, plunging past the hem of your underwear and to your folds. Your hips buck up as his fingers ghost over you and you hear him chuckle.

“Don’t laugh at me!” You lightly hit his back, unable to stop smiling.

“I’m not, I’m not.” He claims, but you know otherwise. It’s hard to be mad at him though when his fingers pry open your folds and he sucks in a breath when he finally dips in. “Fuck you’re wet.”

“All for-“ You’re cut off by your own moan as two fingers press into you. “All for you.”

His motions still for a second before he’s biting into your neck as his fingers sink all the way into you. “Can’t just say that stuff. Fuck you don’t know what you do to me.”

You feel him grind up against your leg and that sends a thrill through you and you push further. “Missed you so much- thought about you every day-“

“My lovely star-“ He breathes into your skin, fingers pumping in and out of you.

“That- I missed that. Missed you calling me yours.” You admit through moans as his fingers stretched you out.

All of a sudden his fingers are pulling out and you whine as he sits up. In a flash hands are tugging your shirt up and off your body while he shimmies down your bed. Once your shirt is discarded he can pull down your pants, hands smoothing over your thighs. He takes a few moments to just look at you and your face heats up.

“See you still need to learn how to take a compliment.” He jokes as he lays back down, pushing apart your thighs so he can settle between them.

“This is not the same.” You try and argue, your hand drifting to his bright blue hair as he kisses up the inside of your thighs.

“Whatever you say.” You want to argue further but all coherent thoughts leave your brain when you feel his breath on your folds.

You feel his fingers spread you apart before he dives in, tongue eagerly lapping up your slick. Your hand fists in his hair as he pushes his tongue into you, the thick muscle a welcome sensation. When his tongue leaves you, you whine but it quickly dissolves into a moan as he wraps his lips around your clit.

“Fuck- Buggy- Just like that!” You buck your hips up into his mouth and you feel his fingers slip back into you.

He listens, repeating the motion and adding a third finger inside you. His other hand comes around to the back of your leg, hiking it up over his shoulder so he can have better access. His tongue swirls between your clit and thrusting in with his fingers. As your orgasm builds up you pull tighter at his hair in warning and you feel him groan into your folds. The vibration against your clit edges you ever closer so you pull again, not missing the way his hips jerk up against the bed as you do.

He sucks on your clit as his fingers curl inside you and the dam breaks, orgasm washing over you. Buggy slowly pulls his fingers out of you but you still feel his tongue on you, lapping up your slick as you come down.

You gently pull on his hair, urging him to come closer to you. He gets the message, sliding up your body until he’s face to face with you, his lips and chin glistening with your juices.

“Can I repay the favor?” You ask, your hands sliding down his body until he shakes his head.

“Baby- if I even see you on your knees in front of me I’m going to blow my load before I can get inside you.” His confession makes your skin run hot as you surge up to him, kissing him deeply.

“Then get inside me.” You say when you finally pull away, your own taste lingering in your mouth.

“Oh, who’s the captain now?” He grins as he slides off the bed to quickly take off his vest and pants.

You can’t help but stare at his cock, long and curved and you need it inside you now. He sees you staring at it’s the ego boost he needs as he crawls back in bed, slotting his hips between your thighs. His hand guides his tip to rub against your clit and you whine impatiently. He chuckles but lines himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing in.

“You’re so- warm- tight- fuck-“ Buggy thrusts into you despite himself, every inch of him inside you all at once and you practically scream his name.

“Can’t help myself baby you feel-“ His body covers yours as he mouths at your collarbone and throat and whatever skin he can find. “So much better than I thought.”

“You thought about me?” You manage out, breathless.

“Every damn day and night I-“ His thrusts are erratic but you can’t bring yourself to care when he’s still making you feel so good. “Sometimes, after you left our meetings I’d- I’d touch myself the second you left I couldn’t stop imagining you on my desk I- fuck-“

Knowing he thought about you like that did things to you and you drag your nails down his back and hook your legs around his waist, unable to verbalize through your moans. You can tell he’s close already, the throb of his cock and the way his filthy words are getting increasingly slurred. You’re close too, and you reach up and grab Buggy’s hand, urging it down to your sensitive bud. He takes the direction well, his thumb rubbing right circles that make you see stars.

“Where- I’m so close-“ He chokes out and as he goes to pull out you clench your legs tighter, trapping him inside you.

“Fill me up, please Buggy.” You whine and that’s it for him.

You feel hot ropes of cum fill you up as he groans into your neck. He manages to still work your clit so it’s only a few moments after him that you’re orgasming again, milking every drop of cum out of him. Breathless, he collapses on top of you, softening cock still in you.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him tight as though letting him go means he’d drift away from you again. He nuzzled into your neck and must sense that somethings up.

“‘m not gonna be that stupid again.” He says, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Not gonna let you go.”

“I’m your chronicler again?” You ask, voice weak with emotions.

“Until the end of time.” He promises, and you trust him completely.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader

[eaterofman]

Stuck in The Dark Alone... or Not. (Monster x F!Human) 1.8k

An unlucky adventurer, you find yourself once again the victim of fate as you become locked in a dungeon room... with something else inside.

Content warning: Dub-con bordering strongly on non-con, non-con touching, mentions of death (but no actual character death), overstimulation, yandere monster.

This was supposed to be a quick first foray into writing on tumblr... and ended up being an almost 2k long beast. Oops.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'Another adventure gone wrong'

You find yourself thinking, head leaning against the cold, stone wall as you gaze into the darkness. The room was rather small, but spacious enough that the candle you had lit did not light up the entire room, causing shadows to gather at the far corners of the room. Finding the candles had been your only stroke of luck today, without it, you'd be trapped in complete darkness.

'When I manage to get out-'

You stop yourself in your thoughts, as the very real possibility that this is where your journey ends sinks into you. You had already exhausted yourself looking for a lever, a button, a switch, any possible escape from this dungeon trap. The walls, while craggy with the ancient stone they were made of, were completely barren of any and all features. You'd been tempted by the chest on the far side of the room. Looking back, you should've known better. Too obvious, too perfectly placed... but that didn't matter now. Nothing really mattered now. You doubt that the small party you had been adventuring with would even notice your disappearance. You were just another temporary member in yet another party. Your unlucky nature, your tendency to seem to just fall right into traps, made you an undesirable companion. This hadn't been your first, second, or even third party, but it may very well be your last. The chest hadn't even had anything in it, clearly a set up by the people who had built this place hundreds of years ago.

Your stomach grumbling distracts you from your spiraling thoughts. Thankfully, you had been carrying your pack with you when you walked into the trap. Within it, you estimated that you had a few weeks of food and water, enchanted to stay fresh longer. Aside from that, you had your sword, shield, and a few other miscellaneous trinkets you had picked up on your adventures. You dug around inside, pulling out a piece of bread and a piece of smoked meat.

Tearing into your small meal, you almost don't notice the movement in the dark corner of the room. It's the slightest shift of a shadow, you'd think it was just a flicker of the candlelight... but it seemed different, somehow. Intentional. You startle, moving to pick up your sword. You stand up, sword in hand, a slight tremor in your body.

You never had been very good at fighting.

Your specialties had always leaned more towards enchantment, healing, and potion making. A good skill to have, but not the most useful when adventuring alone... or trapped alone in a room with something more than likely very undead, and not very friendly. You steady yourself, a single undead or ghoul you could handle. You'd fought many on the way deeper into the dungeon.

As you stare at the wall, minutes pass by... and nothing happens. As time passes by, and the sound of your own breathing begins to wear on you, you find yourself relaxing. Maybe it had just been a figment of your imagination. An attempt at a panicked, overstimulated brain attempting to distract itself. Still weary, you fall back onto the floor, eyes still locked onto the dark edges of the room.

‘... had they gotten darker?’

You brush off the thought, there was no way. The enchantment you had cast onto the candles should keep the candles lit for weeks. You remember the fear you felt as you had fumbled around in the dark, until you’d quite literally fallen right on top of the candles in the corner of the room. They sat on one of the strange, short stone pillars that decorated the room, the only things in the room besides the chest. It seemed like there may be more candles in the other corners, but you can barely make out the vague outlines of the other pillars from where you are, let alone whether they had more candles. You’d go over to check, but you can’t help but feel an echo of the fear you’d felt early when you were completely submerged in the dark when you consider traversing it again. 

It had almost been like there was… something in there with you. You were not a stranger to darkness, an adventurer who goes into as many dungeons as you’ve been into learns to get over their fear of the dark rather quickly. There was something… different about the shadows here. A sort of dreadful feeling like they were staring back at you, waiting for you to make a move. 

You shudder, trying to expel the thoughts in your mind as weariness pulls at your eyes. You were not only mentally exhausted, but your body was sore and tired from a week’s worth of adventuring, fighting, and your frantic searching for a way out earlier. You close your eyes, despite your instincts telling you not to, and lean against the stone pillar hosting your only lightsource. As your eyes close, you make out the faint details of hundreds of inhuman arms carved into the stone, branching up towards the top of the pillar, seeming to grasp desperately at the sun imprinted at the very top of the pillar.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

You awake from a dreamless slumber to the ever so faint sound of whispers. You jolt awake, a small ounce of hope welling inside you that your party had come to save you, only to be met with an empty room. The same empty room as you’d fallen asleep too except-

Your heart races.

The shadows were so, so much closer than they should be.

You couldn’t even make out the vague pillars in the other corners of the room anymore. You had maybe enough room to stretch your legs out now. You spare a panicked glance to the candles, wondering if maybe you’d screwed up again, been unlucky enough to mess up an otherwise easy enchantment on your only source of light… but the candle is still as tall as it was when you closed your eyes. There had been no mistake in your enchantment, you realize as dread takes hold of you.

The light wasn’t getting weaker… the shadows were getting stronger.

You feel a sob rise out of your chest. You really were shit out of luck. Everything you’d done in life, culminating in getting trapped in a small, cold room in a dungeon, abandoned by your party and left to the whims of whatever the fuck was in the room with you. 

You yank your foot back with a scream, startled by what felt like fingers dragging across the sole of your adventure-worn sandals. You curl your limbs up to your body, getting as small as possible as the darkness continues to approach you. You don’t even bother with your sword, instead grabbing your shield and cowering behind it. You doubt whatever was in the dark could be hit with the basic, cheap steel sword you’d bought for 2 gold from a small town blacksmith. Your shitty luck had not made getting gold, or stumbling upon legendary weapons, as easy for you as it seemed to be for other adventurers. But that didn’t matter now, whatever was surrounding you was closing in fast… and it had obviously lost its patience. You try to steady yourself, holding onto your shield tighter as the shadows close in one you. Any moment now, they’d be-

And just like that, the darkness engulfs you.

You sobbed, shaking so hard your shield rattles against the stone floor. For a moment, the only sound in the room is the shaking of your shield and your frantic breaths. Until the thing speaks.

“It’s been….. so long… since we’ve…..”

You freeze in fear, as a thousand voices seem to echo around you, somehow both a whisper and deafeningly loud at the same time. You can’t seem to concentrate on any one voice, the voices sounding both masculine and feminine, shy and bold, warm and cold, and all variations therein. It’s both the most soothing thing you’ve ever heard, and the most unnerving. 

You whimper as what seems to be a hand strokes your arm, trying to pull away from the touch. You don’t get very far, as what seems like dozens of other arms join the first in exploring your body. The touch everywhere, some weak, like a faint whisper on your skin, while others roughly pinch and pull at you without any care of their claws scratching you. You cry out as they start to wander closer to between your legs. Your shield is jerked out of your grasp and lands with a clang somewhere in the dark. As one particularly bold one slides against your crotch, the voices continue.

“... had someone to play with.”

You try to get up, to move away, but you only run into more hands, grasping you firmly to keep you in place. They begin to tear at your leather armor, the clawed hands surging underneath to stroke at your bare skin. The pressure between your legs grows stronger as more hands join the first bold one. You can’t help the gasp that escapes you as they descend on your pussy. Surprisingly warm fingers circle your clit while others begin to pry you open. Your fear turns to confusion and arousal as the hands work you over, never staying in one place for long enough to get used to the sensation. 

Your experience before this would be considered limited at best, so there was nothing to prepare you for the feeling of dozens, maybe hundreds, or even thousands of hands caressing, pinching, and prodding at you. You're lost in overstimulation as you quickly reach your peak, much too fast, crashing over you as you scream. The hands work you through it, never letting up on your clit, continuing to shove desperately into your pussy as you shake around them… and they don’t let up afterwards either. They’re relentless.

How many fingers are inside you? You can’t focus enough to count as they continue to mercilessly finger you to another climax. More fingers impatiently push into your mouth, prying your mouth open for them to explore. Your sounds are muffled as fingers play with your tongue, rub against your teeth, and choke you until saliva is running down your chin into the valley of your breasts. Your chest is squeezed and kneaded, saliva rubbed into your skin and nipples by yet another set of hands. 

Your eyes roll back into your head as you reach your peak again.. how many has that been? How many more will there be? Your thoughts begin to slip as you’re ruthlessly overstimulated. Voices follow you as you begin to black out.

“We are going… to take such good care of you.”

#monster fucker #shadow monster #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #hand monster #that's such a stupid tag but idk how to explain the monster lmao #monster x reader #reader insert #minors dni

[staarri]

𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨 — 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡.

c.  scaramouche

character(s) are friends with reader, gn!reader, angsty-ish, scaramouche is still in the fatui, this is a work of fiction

      fluff     ,    love letter     .      word count : roughly 0.9k

t. @aventurne @tragedy-of-commons @yvnaology @nyoomiin

Scaramouche is not an easy man to love. He’s busy, constantly busy, awake even during the most ungodly hours of the night and constantly rubbing at his eyes from his exhaustion. It’s no surprise the Fatui are overworking him again. What’s funny is that he’s sitting at his desk, a pile of papers on the right side–all reports from his underlings–were unnoticed; all of it, even the chirping of the birds as the sun rose and showed the start of a new day, Scaramouche was stuck on a piece of paper in front of him with the words that reads, To my dearest.

There's no way he can capture your beauty on a cheap piece of parchment . He should’ve bought something expensive instead, like a new set of clothes he thinks you’ll like. But lately you’ve just seemed so distant. He needs to reach you somehow. You’ve been driven away by the lies his mouth spills and now, he’s suffering with the consequences, and not once will he ever say it to you, but he needs you to stick with him while he tries to better himself.

So here he is: a fountain pen in hand, wasting his time with something so.. childish. Who writes letters anyway, isn't it something you did as a child towards someone you liked? 

Call him a child then. Call him old-fashioned, traditional, and in love. Call him whatever you like, because in the end he’s yours, and he’s always been. 

He’s let his thoughts linger for too long and suddenly it's 7 am. His eyebags have never been worse and his mind is tired, not from his job, but from this stupid letter he’s made no progress on. To my dearest should be good enough, right? I mean, you were easy to please. He was sure that it would be more than enough for you. 

How tiring. He says, mindlessly scribbling on the paper, jet-black ink scattered all throughout and splattering around the words. Was he angry? Not at all. Frustrated, yes, but for a good reason–to think he did this just because you two were friends was infuriating. Shouldn’t you two be something more?

You were pretty, far too pretty for him to describe. Scaramouche thought his vocabulary was wide enough, but this letter alone has him searching for the words he once knew. Your eyes, leaving him feeling small in a never ending forest and your smile–god, your smile was intoxicating. It would give light to the things he’s been hiding from you this entire time. Your laugh–your voice, sweet and soft, loud and oh-so clear. How you’d bring it down to a whisper when you feel embarrassed about admitting something, how your nose scrunches up when you laugh or when your smile lines just seem so fitting for someone like you.

What was so special about you? 

You were like the sunset on the beaches, glowing. Absolutely stunning, ethereal, lighting everything in a bright orange, his eyes becoming a mix of brown and a dark blue. He’s different around you, he's a completely different person. From the color of his eyes to the racing of his heart, to the feeling that he wasn’t getting enough air whenever you hold his hand–but you’d do it in a friendly way. You don't squeeze his hand too tight, you let go when necessary and don’t leave any kind of touch lingering for far too long.

Scaramouche is not an easy man to love. He’s bad with words and he can’t tell you the things you want to hear;he can’t provide you with the touch you crave, he can’t make up his mind. One moment he’s thinking about just giving you a whole bag of mora for you to use for your next trip, the other he’s thinking about finishing this damn letter that has plagued his mind ever since you first whispered the fact you appreciate him.

There’s no way he can treat you right. There’s absolutely no way he will be perfect, that he’ll be the partner that’ll leave such a mark on you. But god, ask for the world and he will give it to you. Name one thing and when you wake up it's right at your nightstand. Choose the ring and its design, he’ll get a matching one that you yourself decided on as well. Just say the word because he is a child in love.

So here he is, an envelope in hand. Going to the nearest flower shop to buy something that will still wilt under the sun after a few days. He will not love, and can’t love the same way as you, but he will learn how to. 

Call him stupid;call him an idiot for falling for someone he knows is way too out of his league. But that’s all he is, and it's far too late to change that. He might lose you at some point, and that's really what scares him the most. 

Suddenly he’s standing at your doorstep, ringing the doorbell and you’d be confused who in the world decided to bring you a sunflower and a piece of envelope in the middle of the day–you don't recall ordering anything. 

He didn’t even get to sign it.  Maybe next time he can get it right… for his dearest.

characters belong to their respective companies. everything is written by staarri - do not steal, reupload, translate, modify or feed my work to ai.

#🎏 : my works #astronetwrk #—stellaronhvnters. #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader fluff #scaramouche drabble #scaramouche x gn reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche headcannons #wanderer #wanderer genshin impact #wanderer x reader #wanderer x reader fluff #kunikuzushi #ahhhhhhrhrrggg #ty to gwen and hanyi 4 proof readingm

[writingpastmybedtime]

Happy Accident

Pairing: mob!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: Bucky and his daughter decide to paint together, but what happens when the little one retells her dream to her dad a little bit too enthusiastically?

Word Count: 690, I know it's short, but I really wanna start writing more about mob!Bucky and his family.

Warnings: None.

Request: Yes.

It had been raining heavily throughout the day, which ruined Bucky’s and his daughter’s plans to go to an amusement park that had just opened up in town. He sighed, looking at his little girl, who was currently slightly snoring, and started thinking of other fun things to do. He suddenly looked towards his daughter’s desk, when a great idea came to him.

Taking out the different coloured paints and a few pieces of paper, he sat on the floor, placing everything neatly next to him. 

“Daddy?”

Bucky glanced at his baby girl, who had just woken up from her slumber. 

“Hey there, little one,” he said, walking towards her and picking the little one up. “How’d you sleep?” 

She hugged Bucky and yawned, obviously still in the middle of waking up. Bucky chuckled and placed her on the floor, next to the paints and brushes. 

His little girl meant everything to him. She was his pride and joy, and he had hired more than enough security in and out of the house the moment he first laid eyes on her. 

The little one smiled up at him and like always Bucky was mesmerised by how someone could look so perfect.

Well besides his wife, who the little one looked like more with each day that passed. He smiled at the thought. Thankful that the world, even though cruel at times, had blessed him with a loving headstrong wife and an adorable daughter, who he could spoil till the end of time.

“Oh, are you going to paint with me?” The little girl squealed, as Bucky nodded.

She automatically turned more zealous, pushing a brush into the blue paint, and drawing a random line on the paper. 

“You know, Daddy,” she began, whilst adding more haphazard objects to the painting, her brushstrokes becoming more erratic by the second, “I had a really funny dream.” Bucky watched his little child in awe, listening attentively to her story, and at the same time doodling an obnoxiously fat cat on a separate paper.

“You were battling a big dragon, who was trying to steal Mummy.” She continued her story, taking hold of the small container for the blue colour. 

“You had this big sword and then you pushed it into the dragon's stomach-” She suddenly jumped up in enthusiasm, making the blue paint in the container fall straight onto Bucky. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” The little girl said, trying to hold back her laughter, but failing. Bucky was speechless, looking at his hands and clothes, which were all blue due to the incident. 

“You two look like you’re having fun,” Y/N spoke, looking at the mess in front of her. If only Bucky’s employees could see their mob boss right now, covered in blue paint from head to toe and looking completely helpless. Y/N tilted her head and smiled at the sight of her dear husband.

‘Mummy,’ the little child squealed and ran up to her mum. “I accidentally spilled the blue paint on Daddy, but I didn’t mean to, I swear.” Y/N laughed, looking at Bucky, who was still trying to comprehend what had happened, albeit with an amused expression appearing on his face. Y/N lowered herself to come face to face with her daughter and kissed her on the cheek.

“Go to the kitchen, sweetie, I brought ice cream,” Y/N instructed the little one, who smiled widely and ran off towards the promised dessert. Y/N took another glance at Bucky, who was now laughing uncontrollably, looking at himself through the mirror on the wall. 

“I look like a smurf,” he smiled, looking at Y/N, who just shook her head at him. 

“And to think I married an idiot,” she said to the man who was now walking up to her. 

“You could be a smurf too, you know.” 

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, but before she could understand what he had meant, Bucky had already pressed his lips on hers, pulling her as close as he could. 

Just to make sure, she’d be stained with the blue paint as thoroughly as possible.

#bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes fic #mob!bucky x reader #bucky x reader

[madschiavelique]

˖𓍯. 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬. ★. ₊ ⭑

⟢﹒ pairing : matt murdock x audhd!reader x frank castle

⟢﹒ summary : your family is an ordeal to endure, full of disparaging remarks that make for a horrible evening. fortunately, Matt and Frank come to keep you company during the family diner and take you home to look after you.

⟢﹒ content warnings : hurt/comfort, extremely self-indulgent, reader's family are degrading, audhd reader close to breaking down, reader having sensory issues, reader getting overstimulated, the guys in this are so lovable and sweet boyfriends, afab!reader, no use of Y/N

⟢﹒ word count : 9,3k

⟢﹒ note : had quite a shitty christmas ngl, so i thought writing this piece of comfort would be helpful ! if you only want to read the comfort part, i'll place a separation by using a black divider between the hurt and comfort part. a huge thank you to my bestie @sunflowersandsapphires who proofread this <3. have a good read lovelies!

You passed a q-tip close to your eyes in the hope of correcting the curve of your make-up, trying with that scatterbrained perfectionism that accompanied you in even the most minute tasks to ensure that everything was symmetrical.

Nothing too extravagant, just something elegant, neutral, but that would do. The standard was just to look presentable, from the face to the rest of the body. Jeans, an oversized hoodie, nothing special.

This lack of personal distinction was undoubtedly due to the rejection of perception, the insistent stares, the embarrassing compliments that could suddenly put you in the spotlight tonight, an idea that made you feel profoundly uneasy.

You stepped back a little, checking to see if the much-desired symmetry had been achieved, and no sooner had you put down your utensil than you were asked to do the little cousins' make-up.

Tonight was an annual family reunion: Christmas, where aunts, uncles, grandparents and grandchildren got together over foie gras, salmon and dubious discussions. Where guests who have just left are criticised, where disparaging remarks are exchanged, and where the meal always ends up drifting into politics with more or less heated debates at the table.

You anticipated the evening, an anxious knot already forming in your stomach. You had a particular link with your family, of which the affection was strangely displayed if at all in a way you despised entirely. Every year was a different pain, a different bitter taste that lingered in your thoughts like poison, and you were not delighted to participate in this celebration when you would’ve preferred staying home.

Only one thing held you in place and convinced you that the night wouldn't be a constant and unrelenting hell: Matt and Frank were coming over.

This winter, it was the first time you would’ve been accompanied by them, and by anyone in fact. Knowing the rather strong opinions of your family, the simple idea of saying that you shared your life with two men in a more than platonic way had been dismissed a long time ago. A trouple? If that fell in the ears of one of your family members, you could be sure that you'd become the next freak of the night.

So you talked it over with the boys and came up with a plan to make sure you could bring them both along and not make a big deal of it: one of them would pretend to be your boyfriend, while the other would just be your friend that had nothing better to do for the celebration.

The choice of boyfriend fell on Frank, and friend on Matt.

He had asked why, and you had explained that it was obviously in no way because of favouritism or anything of the sort, but rather the simple fact that he would get more compliments behind his back if he wasn't with you than if he was. 

He'd frowned, but you'd had to explain to them how your family was sometimes built on clusters of shrill gossip, talking behind others' backs and later making remarks to their faces in tones of passive aggressiveness and wicked irony.

You also had to educate them, that no matter what was said about you tonight, not to react. They'd probably be itching to, it would be like a thread sticking out, but they were forbidden to pull on it.

You looked at the clock, seven past. You'd texted Frank to ask where they were and when they'd arrive. Eight thirty had been their reply, and you took a deep breath. An hour and a half to go.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, assuring yourself everything was alright and that you were presentable enough. You can do it, you kept telling yourself, this night knows an end.

The first complications arose sooner than you thought. 

First of all, you'd managed to find a decent seat in an armchair and not on a sofa. However, this seat was very close to the fireplace, where a blazing fire licked the brown logs with appetite. Very close, too close, close enough that it felt suffocating. 

You moved your chair back slightly as best you could, trying not to disturb the conversation that was already well underway.

You tried to take a few snacks, perhaps some cashews, crackers or cherry tomatoes might ease your boredom and distract you from the growing heat.

You pulled out your phone, hoping that Frank and Matt would get here sooner, and would've sent a message to that effect. Or perhaps was there a notification from any of your friends, a reel, a meme, anything-

"Put your phone away, we're with the family."

You looked up, your mother watching you and taking her glass in hand with a look of dissatisfaction. In a single instant, your cheeks heat up all the more as the fire in the fireplace presses against your skin, and you gulped.

"I just wanted to check if I had any news about Matt and Frank's drive," you explained simply, gently stuffing the phone into your pocket.

"They'll arrive when they arrive, but for now, be with us."

You nodded, discreetly biting your cheek as one of your only escapes for tonight went up in smoke. You would have much preferred to be able to escape a little and block out what was going on around you, even sorting out your gallery and deleting useless pictures would have been a more pleasant and less stressful activity.

But you couldn't, and you said nothing when it was your mother's turn to pick up her own phone and connect to the speaker to play her Christmas playlist. 

The children played together, which should’ve been a joy, but their overexcited screams, incessant movements and all that noise were enough to make you feel the headache setting in.

There were easily three different conversations going on around you, and your mother turned up the music in response. You waved, putting your hand in front of you as if you were lazily dribbling an invisible ball to indicate her to lower the volume, and she turned the music down a notch.

You clenched your jaw, thinking to yourself that this was a good start, even if everything else was getting harder to hold on to.

Choosing to wear a hoodie became almost a regret as the ambient heat from the fireplace worked its way up your spine to the nape of your neck, creating an unpleasant feeling. Soon enough, you had to take it all off as the first signs of nausea began to make themselves felt.

You weren't particularly comfortable with the idea, but everyone's attention was obviously diverted enough to take no notice of your actions. Except perhaps for one.

"You could have made an effort on your outfit, it's not very festive." Your mother sighed before taking a sip from her glass of champagne. "Hadn't you lost weight? It would be a shame to spoil the occasion."

You swallowed, the ground looking awfully interesting at this very moment. You knew what would have been said to you if you'd worn something more in the spirit of it, "You've got a nice body, you should wear that more often," and other remarks falling into the famous "you should insert-disobliging-action more often" category.

You should wear that more often. You should smile more often. You should come more often. But none of these requests were of the taste to be fulfilled by you tonight.

So you simply shrugged, having nothing in particular to say, and feeling your heart clench. You were stuck in this contradictory place where if you made one move slightly changing from your usual self to them, you were reprimanded on it, but if you didn’t do anything in particular, they highlighted the fact that it was disappointing you hadn’t done anything.

"Well, we're delighted to have you with us tonight!" chuckled an uncle, raising his glass to you.

"It sure makes a change from knowing she's in her cave," chuckles an aunt.

You smile, but there's no warmth behind the gesture. By cave, they mean your bedroom. Your habit of isolating yourself had brought you a certain reputation within your family, and for years now it has been a recurring joke. They laughed about it every time, but you saw it more as a broken record replaying the same snippet of music... speaking of which, your mother turned up the sound again, thinking you wouldn't notice.

"Could you turn it down please? It's really loud." you ask politely, in the most calm, composed and polite tone you could produce at the moment.

"Oh come on," your mother grumbles, rolling her eyes, "we're allowed to have fun."

She turned up the volume once more, and finally someone other than you told her it was too loud. Reluctantly, she lowered the sound slightly, but it was still not enough for you. Your hands lodge over your ears, hoping with all your heart that this would ease the strain on your eardrums.

Conversations sought to drown out the music, each member pushing their voice for any discussion. Kids were still running around, chasing one another by screaming at each other, and adjusting your eyes on anything without the certainty of getting a headache felt like mission impossible. 

Your hands on your ears helped slightly, and it was only then that your mother looked at you with a surprised expression.

"Does it really hurt?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes," you nodded, "it really does."

Finally, she turned it down, and you exhaled as the others resumed a more appropriate though still higher volume of discussion than you'd prefer. The kids had been changed of room, making it more bearable for you to live through. 

"So, what have you been up to lately?" asks one of your grandparents, "how's work?"

Your cheeks heat up, the discussion now turned towards you, prompting you to take your glass in hand just to have something to quench your throat suddenly arid as the sahara.

"Very well, business is good." you smiled falsely, forcing your face to display the features they might normally expect to see.

"Great, and those two guests coming tonight, do you know them from work?"

How could you say that the circumstances in which you had met these two men were in a situation that included Frank and Matt falling into your flat, bloodied, and asking you for help? 

Karen, who you’d known through college, had advised them of your address, and when the first opportunity came up, they had taken the chance to make the most exceptional introduction you'd ever had in your life : stumbling at your place with cuts all around

"In a way, yes," you replied, pressing your lips into a thin line.

"One of them's her boyfriend, and the other's a lawyer," your mother informed the others, who seemed delighted by your seemingly noble company.

It's a good thing the flames in the fireplace were dying down and that it wasn't so hot anymore, because both your cheeks felt like you were resting the back of your hand on hot embers. It was a never-ending embarrassment to have such behaviour around you, saying aloud everything regarding you without you consenting to any information to be given. Wherever ridiculous actions or the slightest subject that was even a little new and out of their boredom-inducing daily lives occurred, they swarmed.

Nevertheless, the conversation drifted away to your delight, and at the mention of your loves, you couldn't stop thinking about them. You would have liked to check the time, to see if they had any problems on the way that might have delayed them, but you knew that such conduct was likely to earn you an additional remark about the use of your telephone. After all, she could find openings as easily as water in a colander.

Just then, a dance song began to play which, objectively, had nothing to do with the Christmas spirit. So everyone stood up, moving the chairs to get more room, and you helped in this cacophony of moved furniture. 

You stood to one side as everyone got to the centre of the room, their dance steps resembling a veritable collective epileptic seizure of which you had no desire to become another member.

You took the opportunity to take refuge in the bathroom, carefully closing the door behind you and sitting down on the toilet to take a deep breath. The after-effects of all these mixed sensations were beginning to make themselves known.

Your body was as taut as a bowstring, as if every muscle had contracted from a high fall, and it felt as if releasing all the tension would break you in thousands of small pieces. Your heart wasn't beating particularly fast, but it was beating hard, and you couldn't ignore it.

You took a deep breath, letting your head fall back as you closed your eyes. Your throat and chest were tight, so tight that you felt like crying right now. But you couldn't, it would be too noticeable once you got out of here, and you didn't want to give them the pleasure of having an extra subject to talk about at the end of the evening once you'd gone. It would do them too much honour, and you couldn't afford to give them any.

You were so tired, you couldn't take it any more, the fatigue coursing through your body like you'd run a marathon of shame. You breathed in again, feeling your previously tight chest slowly relax as your body was jolting a bit from the unease.

This wouldn't last forever. By the end of the evening, after dessert, you wouldn't be in this house surrounded by all these people, all these eyes, all these mouths, all this noise.

That's when your phone buzzed, and without missing a beat, you pulled it out of your pocket. On the screen was a single message from Frank that gave you tremendous reassurance:

We're here.

You bit your lip, nodding slowly. One last breath for courage and you stood up, opening the door of the bathroom. Without anyone noticing, you grabbed your hoodie and stepped outside into the cool of the night.

The sudden chill brought you unparalleled comfort, biting your cheeks hot with frustration and embarrassment. Perhaps the night would heal you, that its cool caress would apply its balm of softness to all that pressure and relieve you of your tension.

You turned your key ring to find the one for the gate a little further on, trying to walk and not sprint to it. Inserting the key almost frantically but controlling your excitement and relief at their presence, you opened the game.

And there they were, smiling at you.

"Evening sweetheart," Frank smiled when he saw you.

"Sorry we took so long," Matt apologised, pressing his lips together.

You looked behind you to make sure no one had followed you outside, closing the gate slightly so that you wouldn't be seen. You knew that even from here, your group of three could be seen as a pile of meat around which the vultures would circle, and you didn't want to risk being their next meal.

You hugged them both, relieved to have them close to you, and the suddenness and desperation in your gesture almost seemed to surprise them. They hugged you back, kissing your temple.

"Your cheeks are warm," Frank chuckled, pressing his face harder against yours, making you giggle.

"Is everything okay?" asked Matt, stroking your hair, "you're all tense."

Of course, Matt noticing every microscopic detail as usual, couldn't help but pick up on how stiff your body looked, and how the smell of stress covered your skin in the thinnest film. There was no point in lying to Matt, or pretending to divert the subject with Frank, so you sighed.

"Lots of noise, not much serenity," you replied, letting your head fall against the devil's chest.

You were trying to cherish all this a little more, because once you were back in the house, you and Matt wouldn't be able to touch each other again except perhaps to pass a plate across the table and let your fingers deliberately brush against each other.

They'd already been told by you what to expect, and even if they were prepared, they were sorry to find you like this.

"We won't stay here the whole night," Matt reassures as he wraps his arms around you, stroking your back. "Let's hope we get out of here before Frank goes so far as to take the silverware from the table and threaten anyone with the butter knife."

"You're ruining my fun, Red. Now I've got to find something more inventive," sighed the latter.

"Take the star at the top of the pine tree, it'll be sharp enough," you suggested, turning your head towards him, cheek still pressed against Matt's chest. 

"See that, that's Christmas spirit," smiled Frank.

You loosened your embrace, Matt gently kissing your lips. He savoured the moment, and so did you, because this kind of proximity with him wasn't going to happen again for several hours. 

"Ready?" asked Frank, letting his pointer finger form a hook to caress the skin of your cheek.

You looked at the lights further away from the house, hearing the music from here and already preparing in the second part of the night.

"Ready," you breathed in before reopening the gate and letting them through.

You felt your heart clench again, the unpleasant tingle of anxiety coursing through your veins in a fluid traffic that seemed impossible to dilute. You tried to breathe calmly, preparing yourself once again to face the suffocating interior of sounds, movements and remarks.

"Remember, if you need to take a break from all this and go outside, squeeze my hand three times, okay sweetheart ?" reminded Frank, placing his hand on the small of your back.

"Yeah," you swallowed, nodding softly as a tight little smile spread across your lips.

You'd agreed to pretend, in case things got desperate and you needed a break, that Frank was a smoker, and that you and Matt shared his ciggy break together.

All of this preparation had come from the fact your mother had passed an entire questioning about your boyfriend - or at least one of them - to prepare herself conventionally. You knew how she was, and such coaching with the guys was for the better.

Still, his hand on your back was reassuring, and made things easier to bear.

You opened the door, and everyone turned to you with a big "Ah" of satisfaction. Introductions were made as both took off their jackets. Frank remained friendly but guarded - as usual, typical Frank - and Matt seemed to bloom in this social environment like a freshly blossomed flower.

It didn't take long for most of your family to decide that they loved Matt. His well-timed humour, his natural charm, his eloquence, everything about him made him a man to be admired.

"Isn't there any way he could be your boyfriend instead?" said an aunt, approaching you as Matt and Frank continued to be introduced.

"He's way out of her league," sneered another, "they both are, actually."

You pressed your lips together, blowing falsely from your nose to feign amusement. You knew Matt could hear every little jab at you tonight, and if he was feeling any frustration, he was hiding it perfectly.

"Where did you get them? I want one too," said the first, making the other laugh.

"Might get the lawyer's phone number," she replied.

"Yours is very fine too," remarked the other, "how'd you manage to get him ?"

They both said these sentences as if their own husbands weren't in the room, and as if the possibility of you being in a relationship with one of them was a miracle, or just a huge stroke of luck.

"Through work," you replied mechanically and through clenched teeth before moving into the kitchen to help with the dishes.

You knew these sorts of remarks were to be brought up, on how you’d managed to surround yourself so well. Matt and Frank had long wondered how your confidence in yourself was so low, but maybe tonight would’ve been the perfect example as to why it was the case.

The transition to the table was almost seamless. Everyone sat down, the seating order meticulously adapted for everyone. Fortunately, you found yourself between Frank and Matt. You were inwardly grateful for the choice of decorations when you realised that the tablecloth was quite long, and that the reassuring hand Matt had just put on your thigh wouldn't be noticeable.

You breathed softly, the warmth of his hand anchoring you better in all of this and giving you something to focus on that was sweeter than any mean remarks.

Of course, with every new person around the table comes an interrogation to get to know them. Questions of all kinds followed for the boys, about their work, their activities, your aunts of course looking for answers as to how you and Frank had ended up together.

You'd worked it out and decided that Matt had introduced you to Frank and that, through your shared tastes in literature and other things, you'd ended up bonding.

"If books are the new way to getting to a man I've got some reading to do," joked one of the aunts, making the table laugh unanimously, "never thought you'd manage anything of the sort."

The pique directed at you made you feel as if you were swallowing a large ice cube with difficulty, but you covered your discomfort with an expert fake smile. Masking all that discomfort since the start of the evening was beginning to prove complicated, but you weren't going to use the smoking-break Joker just yet.

You could see in the corners of your eyes how Matt was wearing a stiff smile, and how Frank's jaw was tense. Gently reaching under the table, you took both their hands, turning to Frank with another smile that this time wasn't imbued with the polite mask you wore, but with sincerity.

"Let's just say I was lucky " to have found two such extraordinary people who fill my life with love on a daily basis, would you have finished.

You squeezed their hands, drawing small circles on their skins as they both smiled.

The starter was over, the main course continued as your stomach was refusing to let you eat anything, and the whole thing brought together discussions that made you uncomfortable to say the least. All sorts of unconscious or simply cruel racist, homophobic and even transphobic remarks were placed on the table. 

You remained silent, not speaking particularly. You had no desire to take part in this kind of discussion, given how horrible the venom on each other's tongues was. You just hoped it would all be over soon, looking forward to going home with Frank and Matt.

The cousins were chatting away like fascists, one talking about Napoleon, and the old days being the best, while talking about the questionable politicians he was listening to on the radio. 

The cheese arrived, and then came the little break just before dessert. They put on a film for the children, so that the adults could have a quiet chat without all the heckling.

Hearing the parents' arse jokes, you'd think they'd be fucking each other on the table if they thought it was funny. You could very well let your own sassy tongue out, say that if this aunt isn't listening to what's being said already it's because she's working out her next gossip, but you have to forgive her because she wouldn't be like this if her husband wasn't cheating on her, or maybe he's cheating on her because she's like this. 

To tell the uncles that they're less likely to die from terrorism than from alcoholism, to tell one aunt to strap the kids up tight because her husband is going to be driving as if he had an autonomous car. And that you would’ve liked to finish by saying that no matter the smiles, the village fete, all it took was a small difference for everyone to see the real faces.

But you said nothing, keeping to yourself those comments that would only serve to fuel their hatred. 

As Frank came up to grab another drink, your mother sat next to you on the sofa while the two boys came to be monopolised by aunts and uncles. A procession of rednecks near Frank discussing his familiarity with weapons and his military past, while the aunts were wiggling around Matt hoping to curry favour with the young lawyer.

"It's too hot in here," you murmured as you shifted a little from your mother, but she wasn't letting go and placed her head on your shoulder.

"But I want to be close to you," she said with a pout, the alcohol making her visibly affectionate.

You tensed, the desire to get away from it all running through your body, screaming under your skin. But there was nothing you could do, frozen there in the middle of it all, having to endure the situation as best you could.

The familial conversation drifted onto the subject of intellectuality, on the fact that your family was made up of nothing else, or at least for the most part. And you felt tiny, because they were generally right: they were all huge readers of the classics, who knew a lot about history, literature, philosophy and other human sciences. 

All these subjects were familiar to you, because you had had to learn them, to master them in the face of the global family demand for the cultivation of excellence.

Even though you were the ugly duckling of the family, that didn't stop you sharing this knowledge and they were all aware of it. You were able to inject the conversation with valid arguments and insights you'd learned on your own that were important to the topic, and whenever the occasion to say something wise came up that you grasped, they seemed more tolerable to you.

When the discussion turned to the descendants of a painter, you were asked to verify the accuracy of certain statements. So you looked it up on your phone, but barely half a minute later, your mother couldn't resist reprimanding you:

"What did I tell you on your phone? Not when we're with the family."

Irritation from all the previous events of the evening was beginning to press down on you, and it was with some irritation that you replied: 

"But I've been asked for some information."

Your voice was almost like that of a child defending themselves against someone calling them a liar, and this tone seemed to displease her when her gaze hardened.

"Don't talk to me like that, and put your phone away."

You bit the inside of your cheek so hard it felt like it was going to bleed, and said nothing as you put your phone back in your pocket while the conversation around you resumed.

You didn't meet Frank's gaze, nor did you turn to Matt, because you knew that this simple gesture would show weakness and a cry for help. However, you had made them swear not to interfere, and you remained silent for a while, trying to calm yourself down as you watched the fire ripple in the fireplace like an orange veil dancing in the wind while you fiddled with your fingers.

The tic was automatic; Matt and Frank would have preferred to have taken your hand in theirs to prevent this torment. 

What irritated you most of all was the profound injustice of the whole evening. You wouldn’t say anything, and you’d be considered too silent so people would ask you questions, but once you opened your mouth they were not satisfied with your answers. You couldn’t take your own phone, when all the aunts had their own, texting to their friends and all. Children had the right to get away in another room and watch a movie, while you had to stick there doing nothing but listening to whatever was said.

You couldn’t wait for the night to come to an end.

It was time to store the presents everywhere and pretend to the children that Santa had stopped by while they were watching the movie. Everything was placed in colourful piles, and when the children were called, they ran down the stairs and began the frantic tearing of gift wrap to an orchestra of shrieks and shredding.

All the accumulated sounds made you grit your teeth, tightening your throat and making you want to cry. You could feel the limit coming, and you needed a break to prevent you from imploding.

This time you took Frank's hand and squeezed it three times. He turned to you immediately, stroking your cheek before telling Matt. As quickly as they could without looking rushed, they put on their jackets and went out after you.

The night air calmed some part of you instantly, the contrast between all the hectic ambiance inside and the calmness of the outside felt like two extreme opposite worlds living by the only separation of a door.

To make sure that even from the outside there would be no doubt about this cover, Frank had to play along by taking out a cigarette and lighting it. He seemed irritated, and the idea of that Joker card almost seemed to play a real asset in all this to calm him down.

"How the fuck do they sleep at night?" he grumbles as he puffs out his first drag, "it's like they take every opportunity they get to pull you down."

"It's alright, let it slide." you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest.

"No it's not," he continues, "I can't believe you managed to handle their company for all these years."

"Didn't have much of a choice," you breathe.

"I know you said it was bad, I just didn't imagine it was constantly so," Matt confirmed.

"If I go back there I might actually punch them in the face," Frank grumbles before taking another drag on the cigarette.

"All that's left is the presents from the adults, then the Yule log, and then we'll be off, okay?" reassured Matt, placing his hand gently on your shoulder.

The touch of his hand brought a comforting warmth, and his words managed to reassure you. You looked at them both, thinking about how it would’ve been without them : unbearable, definitely. You had barely been able to handle it before they came, but now that they were here, you felt safe, like half of the poison that was thrown at you was not as effective.

They had changed you, made you feel loved, cherished, proud. They had been trying to break these patterns, the self depreciation, the self sabotage, the lack of self confidence. They were helping you build yourself back up from the ruins everyone else had left, and you were the most grateful to the universe to had brought them in your life.

"Thank you both, for being here," you admitted, your voice almost cracking, the coolness of the night giving you a feeling of security that was enough to relax your knotted throat.

They turned towards you, their faces softening. They knew what you were going through, what you were enduring for the night, and how complicated and unpleasant it must have been until they arrived. 

Frank took you in his arms, the smell of tobacco already permeating his clothes. Matt must not have been enjoying it at all, smelling that darkly sugary, smoky smell all around him, but whatever personal discomfort he was experiencing he didn't let it show. 

"It's the least we can do, beautiful," he replied, stroking your back.

"We just wish we could shut their mouths," Matt agreed, holding back from participating in the embrace as you’d instructed him.

"And stop this whole group of women from praising you?" sneered Frank, which made you smile.

Matt's nose scrunched up and his bottom lip curled in disgust at the remark.

"One of them wanted to feed me appetisers, and another asked me about being blind and whether I'd mind being in a relationship with someone whose looks I can't see." he said with a sigh.

"And then?" asked Frank curiously as you both turned to face the lawyer.

"I told her that I didn't need to see to know who was good-looking, and that if I chose my relationships purely on looks, I wouldn't know true friendship or love."

"All those poetic words must have pleased her," Frank punctuated with a whistle.

"Not until I told her my grandmother wore the same perfume as her."

You and Frank both laughed softly, truly impressed at how Matt was handling all this flirting and cringe from several women altogether. 

But this calm moment had to have an end, as the cigarette grew smaller and smaller by the minute. Frank broke away from your embrace to finish it and stubbed it out on the wall.

This little outing had done you a world of good. The cool night air had refreshed you, its delicate silence giving you a break from all the noise and the terrible comments from your family all the while Frank and Matt allowed you this break from constant barbs.

You returned again inside, the end of the opening of presents for the children welcoming you. And so the opening of those for the adults began, all the parcels being stored on the table in more chic and sober wrappings. The grandparents started, Frank standing behind you with one hand on your shoulder and the other holding his glass of champagne.

One by one, they all opened their presents, until it was your turn. Embarrassment gripped your body as all eyes were on you, and you dreaded the opening simply by being watched with boredom mixed with curiosity - to see how you might react and make the slightest faux pas.

You went about it slowly, wishing to unpack properly and not act like a barbarian tearing everything apart at once. Your aunt beside you imitated a yawn at the fact that you were making them wait, and everyone laughed, a tense little smile nailed to your cheeks.

What you got in the end wasn't too bad, nor too far from what you could appreciate, surprisingly. Of course, you had to force yourself to smile at most of the useless gifts that gave you absolutely no pleasure, but you thanked everyone, and the presentation of gifts moved on to the next ones.

"Didn't you get her anything?" your mother asked the boys.

"Her presents are at my place," Frank informed her.

The sentence made your heart spike up, a sudden warmth colouring your chest in pink softness as the sparkles of it brought the tingling sensation of tears at the corners of your eyes. Presents, they had gotten you presents. 

You were not going to cry, of course not, but the lump formed in your throat gave you enough of a hard time that you had to grab your drink and sip on it.

"Speaking of your place, have you looked at the traffic to get home?" questioned Matt, "I don't think I want to take too long."

"I'll have a look," he said, taking his hand off your shoulder to pick up his phone.

You wondered if Matt had had enough, if his own senses had been overwhelmed by all of this and he was pondering on going home. But then realised what they were doing : feigning traffic disruption in order to get home early and save yourself a lot of awful time.

"I think we're going to have to go," Frank nodded as he put his phone away. "Sweetheart? Ready?" he asked, bending over so that his chest pressed against your back.

"Yes," you said as you took a big breath and stood up, saying goodbye to the whole family.

You dreaded the hugs, the kisses on the cheeks or simply the fact of pressing them together and imitating the sound of what should have been a fake smooch, but with a surge of tiredness you objected to this using the excuse of " time is running out".

In no time at all, Matt and Frank had gathered up all your things and were carrying them, heading for the entrance hall to collect theirs.

In less time than it takes to say it, you were finally outside, walking up to the gate. You felt as if your lungs were being squeezed as you went along, almost expecting to feel a rope being pulled tight inside you to tie you to the house, for someone to come out and catch you or whatever. You felt almost like a gnat trying to escape from the spider's web in which it had been stuck a little too long.

You stuck the key in the lock of the gate, turned it hastily, then opened it to let them go with you, closing the big opaque metal door with that step. The pressure hadn't gone away from your body yet, every limb feeling like it was made of thick, rough foam where multiple needles had pierced you in the many crevices they'd already left and were digging even deeper. 

You looked for the car in the hope of getting to it as quickly as possible, but you let out a little squeal of surprise when your feet flew off the ground as Frank swept you up in his arms like a princess.

"Ain't no way you're gonna walk, you've had enough exhaustion for the night," he said, tightening his grip on your back and the back of your knees.

"But-" you began reflexively, although the idea of giving up this position didn't bring you any comfort.

"Ah ah," he stopped, "don't wanna hear about it." If he had his two hands free and was being childish, he would have put them over his ears, singing la la la and pretending not to hear anything.

But his hands were firmly under you, giving you all the security you could have dreamed of and the beginnings of a comfort that would last all evening until you'd sleep.

"Circus night is over," Matt huffed, taking a deep breath, "I think I've heard enough nonsense for one year."

"Lucky for you, next one's less than a week away," sneered Frank.

"I'd rather lose a second sense than inflict this on myself and our angel a second time," the demon replied as he grabbed the car keys from Frank's pocket and opened it.

He opened one of the rear doors, letting Frank gently place you in and strap you in place, placing a kiss on your forehead as he stepped aside to let Matt pass and place the few bags in the boot.

Matt sat down beside you, and you let your head fall on his shoulder. You felt the tingles of anxiety under your skin lodge in your legs and squeeze your chest, the rush to get out of here weighing heavily on your head.

Frank sat in the front seat, turning the car key and making it purr, then drove off. 

As the car rounded the corner, all the tension began to dissipate and you let the breath you'd been holding in escape from your chest. Your whole body felt heavy, your hands gloved with marble, your legs booted with lead and your head stuffed with cotton.

You felt the softness of Matt's lips as he placed a kiss on your forehead, his hand coming to rest on your thigh as you hummed under the sweetness of his comfort.

"It's all over now," he said, resting his chin on your head, "we're going to take care of you."

You snuggle up to him, your hand coming to rest on his as you breathe softly. Your fingers drew soft, formless patterns on the back of his hand, fighting the fatigue that had fallen on you like an anvil.

The moment was sweet, Matt's warmth through his clothes spreading close to you as you turned his hand onto his back to gently trace the lines from his palm up to his callused fingers. 

"I'd have to get rid of some of them," grunted Frank, who clearly hadn't yet calmed his frustration, "I'm sure they'd be much better off in an asylum."

"It's an insane asylum, not an asshole asylum," Matt remarked, "you'd have to build asshole asylums but... you can imagine the size of the buildings."

"Yeah, still, maybe I should have burnt my cigarette on one of their cars."

"What a nice Christmas present," chuckled Matt.

"I can be generous sometimes," confirmed Frank.

"Especially when you threaten people," you agreed.

"A pittance," Matt snickered, "Is that one of my sweaters by the way ?

"Yes," you sigh, "I'll have you know it's been criticised tonight."

"Really? By whom."

"I'll let you guess."

"A bit bold coming from someone dressed like Norman Bates who dresses like his mother," Frank grumbled.

You laughed softly, a sort of little venting session taking place in the car like a debriefing following a bizarre situation.

"With all those women around, Red's charm knows no bounds," laughed Frank, "you've caught the eye of one in particular it seems."

"My aunt? She's suffering from too much oestrogen. If you're interested, I can put you in touch," you grinned.

" I'd rather sleep on cotton sheets." grunts Matt as his hand grabs your thigh and squeezes a little tighter, letting a small chirp of amusement escape from between your lips.

The ride continued, and your stomach went all hollow, grumbling with displeasure at the emptiness you'd left it.

"Didn't eat much, did you ?" asked Matt softly.

"Barely touched her plate," confirmed Frank at the front.

"Didn't feel like it," you murmured.

"Is there anything you'd like when you get home?" proposed the demon, interlacing his fingers with yours.

"Something sweet," you hummed, adjusting your chin to rest it on his shoulder.

"Anything else?"

"Two pairs of arms around me," you smiled.

They both grinned, and the ride went by in a flash. You untied yourself once you'd arrived, stretching slightly as you shifted to open the door beside you, but Matt's hand from your thigh came to grab your hip and pull you back to him in a gesture that seemed immensely easy.

You turned to face him, confused for a moment, as he kissed your cheek.

"No walking, remember?" he smiled as Frank opened his car door to come towards yours.

You sigh, shaking your head slightly as you roll your eyes. They were overdoing it, but you weren't going to stop them. 

"Come here princess," Frank said as he pulled your hips towards him to take you in his arms again.

You wrapped your hands around the back of his nape, nestling your face in his neck and smelling his subtle cologne on his warm skin.

Matt took the bags and went ahead to open the door for you. The familiar smell of your real home seemed to wash all your worries from your body as you took a simple breath.

The bags were deposited in the hallway, Frank walking over to the sofa to set you down.

"Stay right there and don't move," he informed, hands on either side of you as he kissed you softly.

"What happens if I move ?" you asked, placing one of your hands on his arms.

"I'll tie you up like a pretty present," he chuckled as he kissed you again, "the most perfect present we'd ever have."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" you teased, your foreheads pressed together.

"It's a statement," he concluded.

He straightened up, and you were already missing his presence near you, but you respected his request - or rather his order - and remained seated on the sofa. Your head fell back, your body moulding itself to the shape of the couch under the effect of the evening's emotional turmoil. The tension drained away more and more, relaxing your tired muscles and making you yawn. 

It wasn't long before Matt and Frank returned with more casual outfits and packages in their hands. You straightened up, bending your knees on the sofa about to get up, but remembering the fact that walking wasn't a possibility, you explained: 

"I've got some for you too, am I allowed to go and get them?"

"For us?" said a surprised Frank, pointing at himself as if there was some mistake.

"You mean the packages under the first step of the stairs?" questioned Matt, "I thought those were packages you forgot about for the others."

"No, these are for you," you confirmed as you sat back down on your knees on the sofa.

They stood like that, one blinking repeatedly while the other kept his lips parted.

"You really didn't have to-" Matt began, but you stopped him immediately.

"Tsk tsk, if I don't have the right to stand up, you don't have the right to stop me from giving you presents."

"But-" resumed Frank.

"Ah ah," you smiled in the same tone he'd given you earlier, "don't wanna hear about it."

He parted his lips in a smile but said nothing as Matt laughed softly to the side. They approached you, Frank placing the packages on the coffee table as Matt turned away.

"I'll get them," he eventually says, heading for the top step, cracking it open and pulling out three packages to take back to the coffee table.

"The medium one is for you," you say, pushing the first one towards Frank, "and the big and small one are for you," the two boxes sliding across the smooth table towards Matt.

The packets seemed a particularly complex conundrum to them, but you urged them to open their presents.

Matt opened his and discovered a 7kg weighted blanket and an anti-stress ring that could be twirled on his finger.

"I know you sometimes ask me or Frank to lie on top of you because the weight makes you feel better, so I got you this, which should help if neither of us is ever there to give you what you want. As for the ring, I know that times at the Court can be stressful, so I thought it might help you find a point of anchorage." 

Matt seemed at a loss for words, taking the duvet between his fingers and touching the silk sheet you'd wrapped it in. Putting the ring on his index finger, which fit perfectly, he smiled to himself.

As for Frank, he removed the wrapping and his lips parted.

"I've been looking for these for months," he said, looking at the few books he'd been talking about over and over again. "How did you... ?"

You'd scoured countless bookshops, searched book repositories, researched the clearance of certain titles by libraries to find these books that had all but disappeared very quickly while the work was being republished and retranslated.

"A good girlfriend never reveals her secrets," you smiled.

The two of them placed their gifts on the table and came to embrace you, nestling their faces in the crooks of your neck. They held you close, gently kissing your skin between hushed "thank you's", dotting your neck and face with soft pecks.

"What did we do to deserve you," Frank murmured, pulling back slightly.

"I could ask the same about you both," you smiled, running your fingers through their hair.

They kissed you again, then handed you their own gift. You opened it, and it was something you'd talked about several times before, something that was very close to your heart and that they'd decided to give you. This time it was your turn to hug them, and they laughed as you showered their faces with kisses.

"What do you say to a nice bath, and then some dessert before bed?" offered Matt.

"I think that's the best idea of the evening," you confirmed, caressing his cheek and kissing his nose.

Without further ado, Frank took you in his arms like a koala, letting your legs cross behind him as you pressed your cheek against his shoulder. He led you and Matt into the bathroom, the devil bending over the tub to prepare the bath.

Frank lifted you slightly and sat you down on the wash basin counter, letting his hands fall on both your thighs and stroking them gently.

"As much as I love your makeup, we're gonna have to remove it sweetheart", he explained, kissing your cheek.

So mechanically, you grabbed your make-up remover, ready to start the process. But Frank stopped you in your tracks, gently taking the bottle in one hand and a cotton pad in the other.

He poured a small amount onto the white disc, dosing as you did regularly.

"Close your pretty eyes for me," he murmured, taking your chin between his fingers and starting to remove your make-up.

Frank had this charming habit, in the evenings when you were getting ready for bed and he wasn't out playing vigilante, of watching you remove your make-up. He knew a lot about your day by the way you went about it: slow and thoughtful was the result of a good day, faster and more jerky obviously reflected one full of frustration, and sometimes when your movements were slow and your eyes half-closed, it generally meant that the day had been very, very long.

He concentrated, pressing tenderly against your skin as he removed iridescent, matte and mascara from your eyelids, occasionally pausing to kiss your lips, making you smile and giggle softly with each peck.

You almost wanted to put lipstick on his lips and let him kiss your whole face until the red of your cheeks was indistinguishable from the colour of the lipstick.

He asked you to look up this time to clear away the mascara smears and the black marks left in their path. He was doing this with the utmost precision, and this personal attention sent tickles all the way to the back of your skull.

"Look at me?" he asked and you complied, a smirk forming on his lips. "The prettiest girl."

He came over and placed a strand of hair behind your ear before stepping aside to throw away the little cotton disc.

"I'm gonna go and check what snacks we have, Red? I'll leave you my favourite part, but only because it's christmas alright?" he informed before kissing the tip of your nose one last time and stepping out of the bathroom.

Matt, so far checking the temperature of the bath water to make sure it was correct, shook off his damp fingers and wiped them on a towel before standing up and moving between your legs.

"I'll have you stand up just for a bit," he cautioned, taking your hands and pulling you slightly towards him to get you to your feet. "Arms up."

At his request, you raised your arms. His hands pinched the bottom of your hoodie and pulled it up your body. He laid it to one side, continuing with your t-shirt, his fingers still warm from the water sliding delicately against your skin.

"So that's Frank's favourite part?" you smiled, "undressing me?

"I have to say it is," he stated as he unbuttoned your trousers and panties, sliding them to the floor where you lifted your feet to get out of them.

"And what's your favourite part?" you asked as he took off your socks and raised up to your level.

"The one that's about to happen."

He guided you to the bath and let you slide in gently. The temperature was perfect, just as you liked it, and you let out a moan of ease from between your lips until most of your body was submerged in the bath.

Matt took a stool from the bathroom and placed it beside you, taking a cup at the same time to pour water over your hair. He applied himself with great care, taking his time to make sure no drops got into your eyes.

Your muscles relaxed naturally with the heat, finally eradicating the tension in your body once and for all.

You felt Matt's fingers dip into the bath water, sliding up from the skin of your thigh and gently up your body, tracing your silhouette under the water.

"You're beautiful," he whispers as his wet fingers rose from the water to caress your cheek.

"How could you know?" you asked softly, watching as he stared into the emptiness.

"My hands don't lie to me, and I know the beauty of the mind at first sight of the heart" he smiled as he took your bottle of shampoo, pouring some into his palm before massaging your head.

To help him, you straightened up, pivoting slightly to get your back to him. His fingers snaked through your hair, massaging gently and lathering everything up slowly. He worked the back of your neck, muscles tense, letting your head go with the movement of his hands.

With your neck now leaning back, Matt smiled gently before kissing your forehead.

"That's my favourite part," he confirmed, resuming the massage.

You let your eyes close, surrendering to the gentleness of the moment and Matt's touch. He was pressing, caressing, painting with his fingers as if he were holding the most beautiful and delicate material in his hands. 

Too soon for your liking - because you would have preferred this moment to have no end - he rinsed your hair, letting the white mousse spread over your shoulders and applying it lightly to your skin. He took the sponge, soaking it in shower gel before squeezing it into a foam so that he could spread the bubbly cloud over your skin.

He took one of your arms, raising it so that he could get it straight and soap you up properly, and he kissed the length of your skin before the softness of his kisses was erased by the little soap bubbles that the sponge left in its wake. He did the same for your second arm, and your leg, and the second after that, covering your whole body with kisses and softness.

At first you thought it was unfair, because no sooner had he placed a kiss on your skin than he wiped it away with white foam. But you were soon comforted by the idea that these weren't kisses being chased away, but kisses being kept, kisses that seeped under your skin and brought you all the warmth that the bath was beginning to no longer contain.

Before the water got too cold, he gently rinsed you off and got you out of the tub, wrapping you in your bathrobe.

Frank came back into the bathroom at last, bringing clean, more comfortable clothes in his hands. They both took their time drying your hair and dressing you, whispering sweet nothings to you as they kissed your cheeks and temples.

Each kiss washed away the stress you'd been feeling, replacing bitterness with sweetness, and you relished every moment of it.

Once again they carried you in their arms to the sofa, where Frank had placed a plethora of foodstuffs of all kinds on the table, snacks and other sweet products that you might have wanted at the time.

You watched several episodes of a series that you'd been watching together lately, commenting on it and falsely - or actually - taking offence at the particularly stupid choices made by the main characters.

You didn't need any more than that. All the love in the world was with them.

They had taught you how one hand changes when you put it on top of another, that another world is possible but is present in this one, that there is always a dream asleep.

They were standing on your eyelids, and their hair was in yours, they were engulfed in your shadow. Their eyes were always open, they wouldn't let you sleep, their kisses in the light made the sun evaporate.

Back pressed against the chest of one, face hidden in the nape of the other's neck, tonight you fell asleep, fulfilled, safe and loved.

#mads ☾⋆｡☁︎ ﾟ #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #frank castle x reader x matt murdock #frank castle x matt murdock x reader #fratt #fratt x reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fic #matt murdock #daredevil #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle imagine #frank castle oneshot #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle fanfic #frank castle fic #frank castle #the punisher #my writing #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader

[keikiri-kitten]

first time for everything  ꙳⸌♡⸍꙳  k. bakugou

warnings: +18, smut, oral (m! receiving), prohero! bakugou, adult bakugou, virgin bakugou, nb reader

a/n: this is my first time writing an oral sex piece -- especially fucking bakugou ;-;, so i am open to criticism. i tried to write this with the sensation and thoughts that bakugou was feeling rather than the reader just because i wanted to lmao. this is also not properly proofread, i will come back to fix that! enjoy!

word count: 1.4k

“i’m assuming you thought you’d never get this far.”

you both never thought that you would get here. both of you posted in his kitchen in the wee hours of the morning with only a pale white light above the stove to help you see. while you never thought you would be giving a blowjob to prohero dynamight (who you also somehow bagged as your boyfriend),  he never would have thought he’d have anyone who would genuinely want to. 

thinking about a virgin, prohero katsuki who clams up now that you’re kneeling down in front of him. a katsuki whose eyes are wide and still as they stare into yours for some sort of permission. maybe he wants permission to be vulnerable? you’re right underneath his nose yet he’s running over how he got this far when he was used to shoujo mangas and porn. this is a different playing field and he is absolutely a rookie. the vermillion in his eyes is practically glowing as he’s overheating from the inside. he’s standing tall and tense and at this point, he can feel his heart beating in his chest and his skin burning in anticipation. there you are; patient and willing to go at any pace that katuski’s ready to take. your hands trail up his thighs over his gray sweats slowly, spotting the firm cock in his hand twitch. 

katsuki swears he’s never been more flustered in his life, “no.” his voice broke out into the atmosphere of the room, cracking and forcing his cheeks to go red. you can tell by his response that the typical rose tinted glasses he had on around you were now red and tinted with lust. “I didn’t.” while his voice is calm, he isn’t in the slightest. you can tell because every time he gets flustered around you, his voice loses that rough scratch and becomes smooth and quiet. it’s captivating, honestly. 

his breath hitches while he breathes in and only comes out in short or weak puffs. there’s a sudden sharp breath that he sucks in as his eyes dart towards your hands. “of course you didn’t.” you could spot his tongue quickly graze over his chapped, rosy lips. 

“shut up.” 

“you know you can always make me, right?” he brushes your comment off with an eye roll. the hero’s jaw relaxes for a brief moment before he grips his cock a bit tighter in his hand. anything he was ready to do, you were ready to do.  choking out a groan, the head of his heavy cock runs along your lips. this scene was erotic enough for him. tapping it along your lips, his head nudges up subconsciously while his jaw falls. you to part your lips for him. the hero cracked out a hum as the blushing, sensitive head of his cock ran along your skin. the slit was already glistening with excitement. “i would love it if you could make me.”

allowing himself to sink into your mouth builds up this feeling of anxiety that no villain could even get out of him. his nose turns up at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth. he never felt anything like it. sending his back against the wall, his eyes flash to the ceiling before his fingers slide in your hair. katsuki tries so hard to breathe correctly. he thought he had this. if he could handle the palm of his hand or his trusty fleshlight, why wouldn’t he be able to remain calm in your mouth? that would be ridiculous! however, you can spot his chest rising and falling through his hoodie. he doesn’t pick up on full he just might be in your mouth until you gag. you gag and that feeling can’t end for him. a thick hand slips from your hair and behind your neck to keep you there. katsuki’s a selfish man who simply doesn’t care or even think about your need to breathe. neither did you. not when your boyfriend’s breath picks up and every exhale includes a moan. you love it. you live for it.

you also love the way he suddenly pulls your hair, yanking your head back. it allows you to gently graze your teeth under his shaft. if he wants to play, you both could play, yes? katsuki chokes out broken whine. “fuck,” he bites, eyes shutting tight with his hips jutting closer to your face. he likes it. for a moment his life falls into a blur. there’s no need to think if you were willing to do the work for him. ‘just take it and don’t cum too fast’ is the motto. he admires you with his hands carefully brushing any hair from your face. dynamight loves to chase your mouth; rolling his hips and pushing his cock deeper because a second away from you is a second too long. 

there’s so many things you’re doing to him that he can’t even try to comprehend. he can feel your tongue toy with the head of his cock and his whole body twitches. when you start gagging his toes start curling. and he’s begging for it— physically. you can see it in the way his face twists in pleasure and frustration or feel it when his hips become more erratic while trying to work with you pace. 

the blond finds himself struggling for a solid breath. one thing about katsuki was that the heat never really bothered him. until this moment. his body is getting warm and his skin is clamming up under the fabric he’s wearing. it’s an uncomfortable feeling but he doesn’t want it to end. his cock twitches between your lips and of course you aren’t letting up in the slightest. it’s almost aching at this point for some sort of release. that familiar tense feeling is creeping up all over his body. katsuki’s breaths are harsh and sharp as he looks down at you with the most pitiful eyes. “fuck,” he grumbles. red eyes are chasing all over your face when he realizes that the feeling is getting far too intense to sit by idly. his mouth is open and he wants to speak. he wants to tell you that he’s about to cum but he can’t. you wouldn’t be able to make out a single thing he said even if he tried. 

you can spot his lip quivering before tightening his lips together. the hero is scrunching his nose and trying not to explode but looking at you makes the task difficult. lifting his back off the wall, one hand gripped the counter while the other covered his mouth. each exhale came out in a string of grunts and groans. he was pitiful— simply miserable being so vulnerable but he also never felt as good as he does at the moment. watching him, you can see his eyes cross. then you could feel it. katsuki’s body stiffens up so much you assume he lost all functioning of it as he filled your cheeks. the only thing that’s moving on him is his thighs that are literally shivering. 

in all honesty you don’t know what’s supposed to make his cum so much different than any other you’ve experienced. it’s hot and thick. the only exception? it tasted far better than what you’ve had before. 

the more you think about how he tastes, the less you actually realize that his body has already calmed down. not until his cock lazily fell from your mouth. he lowers his body to the ground to rest on his knees and get a good look into your eyes. stealing glances of one another, katsuki can see how messy your face really is. you notice how red his face is. he refuses to properly look you in the eyes. “don’t swallow—“

katsuki’s face loses all expression as he watches you do exactly that simply because he told you not to. it was a nice way to measure to see how out of it he still is. saying nothing, he cups your cheeks with his hands that are actually burning before feeling his lips melt on yours. he wants to take in everything; your swollen lips, your weak kiss from your exhausted jaw and the taste of him left on your tongue. pulling away from you always feels like a crime after kissing you, but if there was one thing the blond didn’t have, it was a proper breath. 

“how did that feel? did you like that?” 

“it sure as hell wasn’t bad.” he snaps, which only makes you laugh.

#katuski bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo #bakugou #bakugou smut #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou drabble #birdieboom #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo smut #pro hero dynamight #bakugou headcanon

[buff-muffin]

I’ve been slowly brewing up little One piece canon compliant head canons. These could be used to write little stories if I or someone else wanted. But I just want to get them out of my head so here you go.

Just an FYI. I’ve only finished pre-timeskip so spoilers for till the end of marineford ig and if something is proven different by Oda or later on in canon. I want y’all to know I really don’t care.

1. When Shanks was visiting Foosha village he had never actually heard of bug fighting neither had almost any of the crew. To little Luffy that was essentially a hate crime and he ran out of the bar so fast all of them thought they had upset the boy. He returned around an hour later with two large bugs in his hands and the crew got to watch them fight. Thoroughly smashed and here to enjoy Luffys interests they got WAY too into the fight and started placing bets and were screaming, cheering for their chosen bug. Never had the town seen so many grown adults so worked up over two bugs on a bar table.

2. Nami helps Usopp with his hair care. Back at Syrup village he normally had the kids help out when it finally needed to be washed. But now on the Going Merry he didn’t exactly trust a man with three swords or Luffy near his hair. And Sanji wasnt much help either. He was scared to ask at first but after Arlong Park Nami agreed and it soon become tradition for them to kick Sanji out of the kitchen for Usopp’s hair day and spend the whole time talking and gossiping. Sanji was and still is jealous about it but it’s completely platonic

3. (continuing after 2) Chopper was the next member to join the ‘hair care club.’ While his hooves aren’t the best for helping out with washing or braiding, and his human form’s hands were too big. He liked hearing about what went into caring for different hair textures. And he just liked to be helpful. However it was through being in the hair care club did Chopper realise that being part human because of his devil fruit meant his fur needed to be washed way more often than it did. And after some trial and error with wash frequency and products, they found the perfect combo that leaves him adorably soft.

4. (also continuing after 2) Robin was the fourth member and was invited to join before the events of Skypia. Nami asking if Robin could braid her hair while she did Usopp’s. But Robin just quietly confessed she had no idea how to braid hair. Seeing as no adult in her life wanted to sit down and teach her at Ohara. Seeing that as an atrocity, the hair care club had their first offical meeting. Where they showed Robin all sorts of braids on both Nami’s hair and Usopp’s

5. (continuing after 4) Robin quietly found herself very proud of the knowledge of knowing how to braid. And on quiet hours on the ship while she was reading and everyone was doing their own quiet things. She often used extra hands to add little braids to Luffy’s hair while he either fished or napped. Luffy is completely aware she is doing this yet never thought to bring it up. He loves little acts of affection from his crew and waking up to braids in his hair never fail to make him smile.

6. (continuing after 2. This is the final one I swear) Brook is the last member of the hair care club. While he lets Chopper check his ‘roots’ and general hair health he actually knows how to do different hair styles for Usopp’s hair texture and happily teaches him as well as the others and now Usopp can finally branch out in hair styles

7. one of Luffy’s favourite pass times is to listen to his crew mates talking about their dreams. He sits at the table listening to Sanji tell tales about the all blue. Or listen to Franky and Robin ramble about work. He listens to Zoro talk about people he wants to fight, and the islands Nami wants to visit. He’ll listen to Chopper’s doctor mumbo jumbo and Usopp talking about plans for new weapons. He loves listening to Brook’s songs but he’ll also hear tales about the skeleton’s old crew and stories of Laboon. He tries to ask questions to sound interested but it normally just gives people the idea he’s not paying attention. So instead he gives them encouragement. Because his favourite part, is seeing the way their eyes light up talking about something their truly passionate about, and the shameless smile they give him knowing their captain would never once make fun of their dream.

8. Robin quickly found comfort in Luffy after joining the crew and for a while she couldn’t figure out why. Until she realised his ‘shishishi’ laugh sounded just like Jaguar D. Saul’s, the giant she met growing up. And when she realised it was the first night she slept soundly on that little boat.

9. After loosing his arm Shanks went through a really annoying yet hilarious adjustment period of getting halfway through a task before realising he needs two hands. His crew always laughed when Shanks did his ‘wait how am I gonna do this’ pause. And while they always help him out when he needs it. They know he will figure out how to open things himself. Hopefully without his teeth.

10. Ace very proudly has a scar on his arm from where Luffy accidentally bit him once way too hard while fighting. When Dadan patched him up and told them it was probably gonna scar Ace was pissed, Luffy was wailing in apologies and Sabo had been dying of laughter that Ace’s first ‘cool fighting scar’ was his brothers teeth mark. Now though? Among the other battle scars Ace’s skin bares. That scar is his favourite story to tell. And all of the Whitebeard pirates know to. Never let their fingers near Luffy’s mouth.

#if there’s a spelling or grammar error suck my metaphoical dick #one piece #one piece headcanons #luffy #monkey d. luffy #shanks #red haired shanks #straw hat pirates #nico robin #portgas d ace #I have a few random ideas for a modern AU but I think I might make that a separate post #no one spoil me for post time skip stuff #let me have my little corner #I NEED SO MUCH ASL BROTHERS CONTENT BUT IM SCARED OF SPOILERS #SO ILL MAKE IT MYSELF #the hair care club tm #soft headcanons #thoughts #rambles

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Hi! Congratulations on your milestone 😊

I would really like to see something with Spencer x Reader and Blinding Lights by The Weeknd! ❤️

Hello my love! I’ve wanted to write a fic based on this song for so long! Set in place of 3.16 Elephant’s Memory.

Send me a song lyric from my list to celebrate my follower milestone 🎵

Blinding Lights

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - Spencer is ten months sober and struggling to ward off his cravings. When a case takes the team to his hometown, he knows there’s only one face that can keep him from falling off the wagon.

CW - heavy angst, hopeful ending, past drug use, thoughts of relapse, Spencer is just really sad, brief mention of a bad past relationship, tears.

WC - 3.8k

The golden medallion watched him thoughtfully from the dresser, the way any inanimate object could. He could feel the judgement rolling of it in waves, hearing its sickly sweet commentary as he stared unblinking at the opposite wall.

You’re not strong enough, it goaded him. You can’t do this alone. Relapse is inevitable. 

Of course he knew a piece of metal couldn’t think, couldn’t chastise him, didn’t have its own voice to vocalise these vicious words. It wasn’t sentient. It was a coin, a simple gold chip. And anyway, the taunting voice following him around like a rain cloud sounded too much like his own for it to be anything other than his own intrusive thoughts. 

His cell phone was next to him, tucked against his stomach as he lay in the foetal position atop the scratchy hotel bed sheet. 

Since having to cut his meeting at Beltway short and joining the team for the case less than twelve hours ago, he’d tried calling the same number fifty two times. 

Fifty two times he’d called and fifty two times he’d gotten the same monotonous voice in response. 

The number you dialled has been disconnected. 

Yet it didn’t stop him from calling the same number over and over until his thumb was numb and the beeping continued to sound in his ears long after he’d hung up. 

It was said that insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Did he really think that after fifty two phone calls the line would become magically reconnected just because he was so persistent? 

He wasn’t surprised exactly, but he was disappointed. It had been more years than he could count since he’d last tried to call that number. 

No, that wasn’t true, Spencer knew exactly how many years it had been, he knew how many minutes it had been since he last heard your voice. 

Five years, two months, sixteen days. 

He’d been standing in your doorway bidding you his final goodbye before he flew to Virginia to start work at the BAU. You’d said you’d stay in touch and you had. For a time at least. And then life simply got in the way. 

But today of all days when he was, as the literature put it, craving, for the first time in ten months of sobriety he needed to hear your voice. He needed to hear your dulcet tones on the other end of his phone telling him it would be alright. 

And to make even more signs point towards you, the case had taken them to his hometown of Las Vegas. 

He didn’t know for a fact that you still lived here but there was something in his gut that told him you were close by. He could feel your aura, sense you were within his grasp but just out of reach. 

Without so much as blinking, he blindly reached for the dresser next to the bed and felt around until his fingers brushed over that taunting gold medallion. 

He tucked it into his palm, squeezing so tightly it would surely leave indentations in his hand. It was meant to be a token to aid him, to keep him focused for the next two months when he got his own. 

But it was simply serving as a reminder of his addiction and how much he would give to get high right now. 

The dilaudid didn’t just allow for his escape from reality but it also offered him a reprieve from his perpetual loneliness. Spencer had been on his own for so long, fighting battles solo against demons who always seemed to win as of late. 

Sin City had never felt as cold and lonely as it did right now. 

Still clutching the chip in one hand he used his other to pick up his phone. He pulled up his call history whilst moving as little as humanly possible. 

But this time he didn’t call your disconnected line. 

He put the device on speaker and held it in his hand, finally closing his sore and tired eyes as he listened to it ring. 

He counted four dial tones until his call was answered. 

“Boy wonder?” Garcia’s tone didn’t hide her confusion. “It’s late, I thought you’d all called it a night?” 

“It’s not about the case.” He barely recognised the sound coming out of his lips and judging by the long pause down the line, Penelope didn’t either. 

“Ok. What’s up?” She sounded concerned, it was nothing new. 

Since the team discovered his addiction it was the same tone they’d all used on him. It was growing tiresome. 

“Can you find someone for me? Like if I gave you a name could you find out where they live?” 

Another stretch of silence met his ears but he knew Garcia was still there. He exhaled through his nose and forced his exhausted limbs to straighten out, hearing the clicking of joints that shouldn’t be as worn down at his age. 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, holding in a groan deep in his lungs as he got himself into a sitting position. 

The medallion was still pressuring aggressively into his palm. 

“You know I can, Reid.” Garcia finally spoke. “But you’ve got to tell me what this is about. If I’m going to help you, you have to be honest with me.” 

The truth was that Spencer felt like he was drowning. During daylight hours he was just about capable of keeping his head above water but in the night was when he started slipping beneath the surface. 

The whole team was worried about him, hadn’t stopped worrying about him relapsing, worrying about his monsters out running him. 

If Garcia wouldn’t give him the information he needed, it was likely ten months was where his sobriety ended. 

“I need to see an old…friend.” Now was not the time to be going into detail. “It’s important.” 

It wasn’t as though he deliberately kept you a secret from his team, he just never felt like talking about it. If he talked about you then all the pain would come flooding back to him, the waves of heartbreak likely to wash him away to sea for good. 

But still, in the midst of undoubtedly the worst time of his life, you were the only person that had a hope of making it better. You’d been there holding his hand when he’d made the decision to have his mother committed, you’d been his rock in that horrible time of his life. 

He knew when he was like this, you were the only one he trusted enough. You were the only person who had ever seen him, all of him, both metaphorically and physically. 

“Reid,” Garcia sighed as she spoke his name and he knew exactly what words would leave her mouth next before she vocalised them. “Are you ok?” 

Are you ok?

Such a flippant and vague question, but one in which he’d been asked more times than he cared to count over the past year. 

And it wasn’t just the question, it was the tone that went along with it. The pity veiled in a cloak of concern, the kind of concern you only had for a person on the brink. 

“No.” He confessed, loosening his grip on the chip maybe in the same way he was steadily loosening his grip on reality. “But that’s why I need you to do this for me.”

The desperation, the agony of his fractured mental state must have come through in his voice because it was only a second or two before Garcia replied.

“Ok.” She agreed and he heard the distinctive clicking of keys down the phone line. “Give me a name.”

***

It failed to register with Spencer that it was gone midnight when he emerged like a shadow from his hotel room, creeping down the corridors as if he were nothing more than an apparition. Limbs moved of their own accord with the address Garcia had given him burnt into his memory. 

He found himself behind the wheel of one of the hired SUV’s, foot hugging the gas pedal as he sped in the direction of your home. The gold medallion sat on the dashboard almost like a reminder that this wasn’t a venture to buy drugs. 

As much as he wished it was. 

He knew the roads in Vegas like the back of his hand and he traversed them on autopilot. One road blurred into another, his focus waning. 

All he could really make out through his tired and heavy eyes was the assault of light around every turn, seemingly getting brighter with each new street he drove down. 

It soon became blinding, piercing his retinas as somehow he continued to drive, but all he could see was light. It all felt like some kind of fever dream, the haze that shrouded his brain was so familiar somehow. 

It was almost as if he was high. But that wasn’t possible, was it? He’d remember if he’d used, wouldn’t he? 

No, he couldn’t be high, he was simply fatigued. He was exhausted from work, drained from the constant internal battle he was fighting over his abstinence. 

He just needed to see your face, to rid his vision of these damn lights that seemed determined to impede his vision. 

He never could see clearly since you’d been gone. 

Somehow he ended up parking the SUV on a quiet and sleepy road and then once again, his limbs moving without his brain telling them to do so, he was climbing out of the vehicle, up the front steps of a building, and knocking on the door. 

He didn’t know what he planned on saying when, or if you opened the door. He hadn’t exactly stopped to think this through, if he had done there was no way he would have just shown up at your door after five years. He had more sense than that. At least he usually did. 

All he knew was that if he didn’t see your face he had absolutely no doubt he would relapse. It was an incredible amount of pressure to put on one person, his sobriety rested on your shoulders and you were none the wiser. 

He rubbed his palm aggressively against his left eye socket while he waited, still someone seeing those blinding lights long after they’d disappeared. 

Time had ceased to be relevant to Spencer long ago and so he had no idea how long it was he was standing in your stoop, rubbing his eye as if to somehow erase any trace of light still poisoning his retinas. 

But eventually the door creaked open, slowly, cautiously; it was the middle of the night and of course you would be sceptical about someone knocking on your door. 

He dropped his hand back to his side as you appeared from behind the door, your hands clutching the wood, ready to slam it closed again if you perceived a threat. 

Your brow was furrowed and you were rolling your bottom lip between your teeth. But a fraction of a second later he saw the realisation flood your features, the recognition of the man on the other side of your door in the middle of the night. 

Your frown faded at the same time your eyes widened in an animated fashion. Your jaw fell, leaving your mouth agape while you sucked in a thick breath. The hands that had been clutching the doorframe fell to your sides and you simply stared at him unblinking. 

“Uh, hi Y/N.” He offered you a meek shrug which told you without the use of his words that he had no idea why he was here. 

He stuffed his hands inside of his pockets and brushed his fingertips across the chip in an attempt to keep him grounded but it failed. 

You remained silent, taking him in. He’d aged, of course he had, so had you. But in your mind he was still the twenty-one year old saying his goodbyes as he left you forever in pursuit of his own dreams, in the process destroying your own. 

But it wasn’t just the fact he’d aged, he almost seemed like a completely different person from the one you remembered; a ghost of his former self. 

The dark circles he always wore under his eyes were blacker than you recalled, a stark contrast again his sallow, alabaster skin. His eyes always held so much emotion, like his heart lived through his pupils but right now they were vacant, staring through you rather than at you. 

His lips were cracked and split from profuse chewing, something you knew he only did when he was nervous or upset. His shoulders drooped, his neck retreated inside his sweater as though he just wanted to disappear inside it all together. 

You took a few breaths, trying to hurriedly reconcile all the emotions running rampant within you so you could move past them and focus on this broken man on your doorstep. 

“Spencer,” you swallowed as you spoke. “What are you…why are you…?” 

“I’ve been trying to call. I’ve been…” his voice was trembling and trailed off to try and correct it, whilst also trying to clutch at the right words. “I’ve been on my own for long enough.” 

The last part of his sentence was whispered, so quiet you had to strain your ears to hear him. 

He hung his head, looking down at his feet as he didn’t want to see your reaction to his pathetic words. He grasped the medallion tightly, it still didn’t help him to feel rooted. 

But then he felt your delicate fingers brushing against the underside of his jaw, gently guiding his face back up until your eyes met. Even when they did, you kept your hand on him and your simple touch was everything he needed to feel tethered again. 

It was as if you realised this too, as your lip started curling into a soft smile and when you removed your hand from under his chin you were quick to place it instead on his wrist. 

“You wanna come in?” You tapped his arm, causing him to dislodge his hand from his pocket. 

He nodded a little too frantically, sending his messy curls bouncing into his eyes. But he didn’t seem to care. 

With his hand free out of his pocket he hurriedly caught your own hand and the grip in which he held you showed off his desperation. 

You offered him another smile before leading him inside by his hand. And somehow just thanks to your touch, he felt whole once more. 

***

You made some chamomile tea while Spencer sat on your couch, eyes scouring the room, taking in every inch of your life. He committed everything to memory, drew a map of your home on his heart. 

By the time you returned Spencer had made himself comfortable, his converse tucked neatly next to the couch and he sat with legs criss crossed, a big plush sofa cushion resting in his lap. He was toying with something shiny between his fingers but he quickly pocketed it when he saw you coming back. 

You handed Spencer one of the mugs which he took with a small, tight lipped smile of thanks. You sat down on the other end of the couch, leaving ample space between the two of you. 

Spencer took a sip and if he noticed it was scalding hot it didn’t even seem to register with him. He cradled the mug in his hands and sighed. 

“I don’t know.” He croaked, barely able to maintain eye contact with you for more than half a second. 

“You don’t know what?” You replied, giving him a slightly curious look. 

“You want to know why I’m here. You were inevitably going to ask. And the answer is: I don’t know.” He sipped more of the tea. 

“Ok.” There was no point in following that up, no use reminding him of how many years it had been because he knew that better than you did. 

“I tried to call.” He said for the second time. “A lot.” 

“I had to change my number a while back. I had some issues with an ex-boyfriend. He got…obsessed after the break up. It’s ok now though.” You shrugged. 

Spencer noticeably winced, hating himself for not being able to be there for you during that time. It also had a little to do with the idea of you being with someone who wasn’t him. 

He’d asked you to go with him. When he moved to Virginia, he’d asked you to go with him. But you had a life in Vegas, you had dreams of your own that you weren’t willing to give up in order to chase his. 

And along the way you’d met someone else, of course you had. Just because he hadn’t even so much as looked at another person in the last five years, it didn’t mean you had to do the same. 

But secretly, he’d wished you had. 

He sipped his tea, his heart constricting inside of his chest at the thought of you with another man. You were each other's firsts; you were Spencer’s only. 

When he didn’t speak again you put your mug down on the coffee table and scooted a little closer to him. He could feel the heat radiating off of you. 

Spencer hadn’t been able to see clearly since you’d been gone, but now as he looked at you it was like a thick fog had lifted from in front of his eyes. 

“Spence?” You brought him back to the present, eyes blinking at you several times. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” 

He copied you and put his own mug next to yours on the coffee table before lacing his hands together on the cushion in his lap. 

“I’ve been…unwell.” He mused, remembering the terminology Ethan had used to describe his addiction. “I mean, I was unwell but I got better. And recently I guess I’ve been feeling…sick again.” 

You tentatively reached out and placed your hand on top of his and he felt so instantly relaxed at the feeling of your skin on his. 

“And you came here because…”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I just knew if I didn’t see you I would have done something stupid tonight. I…I’ve missed you.”

Of course he’d known he missed you before this moment, but Spencer had long ago compartmentalised those emotions. He tried not to dwell on them because if he did he probably wouldn’t make it out of bed most mornings. 

Your absence had left a hole in his life. He’d tried filling it with work, and for the most part it had been effective. 

But being beaten to death and back again in Hankel’s cabin, all those emotions managed to break free of the cage in which he’d held them captive. 

Dilaudid helped mute them, helped him escape from the loneliness he’d harboured for five years. Being sober again, he’d been forced to feel everything. 

You briefly squeezed his hands before softening your grip, unaware of just how much your touch was soothing him. 

“It’s been so long, Spencer.” You breathed out, thumb caressing his knuckles. “I missed you so much and now you’re here…” Now you’re here I never want to be apart from you again. 

“I know.” He nodded, knowing what you weren’t saying. “Me too.” 

A quiet understanding passed between the two of you while you unlaced his hands so you could entwine your fingers with his. 

All the pent up emotions clung to the walls of the room like stale cigarette smoke. Everything that had ever been left unsaid between the two of you being spoken without the use of words. 

You sat like this for some time until, still keeping your hands interlaced, you stood up, tugging Spencer to do the same. 

He let you lead him by the hand towards your bedroom where you let go of him so you could lie down on top of the made bed. He took a few seconds of contemplation before an encouraging smile from you convinced him to do the same. 

You laid on your backs but your hand soon found his again and he held on so tightly as if afraid you might float away. 

His other hand slipped inside of his pocket and he pulled out the medallion which he cupped inside of his palm. 

With you there by his side, holding his hand, the chip was much less taunting of him than it had been earlier in the night. 

It was never supposed to be an omen, but a talisman, and now he was seeing it for what it really was. 

He had two months until he would receive his own, and laying next to you in your bed he finally believed he could achieve that. 

He rolled his head to the side on the pillow and you did the same, a soft smile cloying to your lips. 

“What…what happens tomorrow?” He couldn’t help but ask, always in need of answers to questions that didn’t always need asking. 

You gently squeezed his hand as a small exhale left your parted lips. 

“Let’s worry about that in the morning, ok?” 

“I wish I could.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. “Maybe coming here was a bad idea. I don’t know if I can just leave again this time.” 

“Spence,” you shuffled a little closer to him. “We’ll figure it out, ok? But if you think for a second I’m just going to be able to let you walk away again, well for a genius, that’s just dumb.” 

Spencer couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips as his heart soared at your words. He brushed his fingers over yours whilst doing the same to his chip. 

He exhaled a slightly shaky breath whilst turning completely onto his side and opening his palm so you could see the coin.

“It’s not mine.” He was quick to say. “I still have two more months to make my year.” 

He didn’t need to say more than that. You mirrored his position and took the medallion from his open palm. 

He wanted you to have all the facts, to have total transparency between you so you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into. But he underestimated just how much you still knew him. 

“I figured.” You whispered. “You’ll get there. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to help you.” 

Once again his heart soared, his whole body feeling lighter than air. Tears he didn’t know had sprung to his eyes, started rolling down his cheeks but yet, he was smiling. 

“I’d like that very much.” He nodded against the pillow. 

You fell into silence after that and soon Spencer’s tired eyes started to flutter closed.

You’d been the one to show him how to love and along the way he’d forgotten. But now he was starting to remember it all. He’d been on his own for long enough and maybe, just maybe, you could show him how to love all over again. 

Being In your presence, the voices in his head were silenced, the lights weren’t quite so blinding. And with your touch, he could finally sleep. 

#milestone celebration #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

[dolli-is-me]

Chapter I: the treasures hidden within the subconscious + proof ♡

Long post ahead! But I recommend you to read it, it really helps you hit the right spot by finding the missing pieces

Hiii! Dee here again 💗, in this post, I'll be sharing an important fact that will be guaranteed to help you, let's start shall we?

So, what is the context of this post? It's a study of the subconscious mind to obey your desires, as it's almost instant once you master it, and mastering it is only by knowing that you are the master

In the end, I'll even talk about proof I had many success with, I've manifested a lot from using my subconscious mind 💗

My next post will be a full detailed post about all the ways you can impress the subconscious, however, you don't need the methods, you only need two things:

(impressive thoughts) and (persistence)

The definition of subconscious and conscious mind and their difference/

1. The subconscious mind=the right mind, the imaginative mind that decrees everything is possible, the mind that needs to be impressed to impress the 3d, the mind which stores the treasures of every information, the mind that stores any data about you, in short, it's the side that helps you with answering your questions, healing you, guiding you, and of course, helping you in the background

2. The conscious mind=the left side, it's logical, and it needs to be impressed to let the subconscious to be impressed to impress the 3d, the side which stores memory-term stuff, like math, physics equation- so on and on, this side is the side that you see in the 3d now, the side that is already established with beliefs

So what is their difference one might ask? It's easy, there are many differences, but the most prominent one that will help us is:

The subconscious mind = cannot argue with any belief or idea, immediately establishing it into the reality without any problem

The conscious mind = will argue against new beliefs or ideas for a while, will debate whether to let the subconscious act upon it or not

What does this mean? It means that the conscious mind is the gatekeeper, it keeps the subconscious mind from believing anything, while the subconscious mind is the servant at hand, immediately working on anything that the conscious mind sends

The work in harmony between the conscious and subconscious mind mind in daily life/

let's start with how do they work in harmony

Thought + consistent impressing = stated belief → results

To further explain it better, let's talk about something you have been doing for a long time, writing

If you remember well, how did the last time go when you picked up a pencil as a kid? Your subconscious mind didn't recognize what it was, nor did it recognize the letters you were taught to write, but this act alone didn't impress the conscious mind the first time did it? The hand writing looked weird and felt weird, not to mention it felt confusing on which hand to use. However, what happened after trying more than once? You started to impress the conscious mind that you have to write, stating it as a daily habit, if you noticed, after a while of using your preferred hand to write, your hand writings will feel natural, why is that? You impressed the conscious mind, showing it that this act is already in your daily life, you showed the conscious mind that it has to send this new data of holding a pencil and writing it to the subconscious, so that the subconscious states it as a new habit, making it effortless to write now.

But what happens if you swap your preferred hand writing? (Left to right, or right to left), you notice the same feeling you had as a child, not knowing how to use the other hand, because your subconscious haven't got the data of you using both of your hands.

See? That's what I meant, using this as an example, you can state anything, literally anything, into a habit/belief in your subconscious, once it's done, it becomes effortless to even try, why?

Because you already have the data in your subconscious, making it extremely easy for you to get the results you want:

Impressive thought ( a positive desire that you take it as you already have it, taken as it's already a habit )

+

impress the conscious ( by being consistent for the amount of time you think the results will appear, cut the deadline with the conscious, impress it that you already have it )

=

impress the subconscious establish it ( the most easiest part, once the subconscious is impressed, you will immediately get the desire )

→

see the results ( the 3d will immediately obey anything the subconscious states as a belief or as a desire that you already have it )

There, just apply this habit to your life, get your thought of desire, continue to drill it without force or desperation to the conscious until it accepts it and hands it down to the subconscious, once it's handed down, the 3d immediately obeys

What have I got from using my subconscious/

Waking up at exact time without alarm, at 3 AM or 6 AM sometimes

Seeing bunch of butterflies, especially huge big pretty ones everywhere I go

Revising my past bad grades into new good grades ( I swear this took one day, I came home after doing bad in the exam, then established the thought I had a hundred in this exam, I swear the next day I had a hundred, even my wrong answers were right )

Canceling multiple classes ( my class should thank me fr 🤭 )

Acing an exam without even studying one bit, right in class I commanded my subconscious as though I have already had the effects of reading for 6 hours when I haven't even read, ended up acing it

Weight Loss, I lost a lot of weight in a week only, I only kept impressing my mind that I was skinny and boom, even my friends were shocked as to how did I lose that much

There are many more, but these are the most prominent ones

That's it for today 💗, remember, you are the creator of your reality, if your subconscious serves you anything, then of course you can make the 3d to serve you, remember, you are so close to your desires, I'm so proud of you 💗 111, 222, 999

#manifesting #void #void state #void challenge #subconscious #subconciousmind #dolli memories posts!

[flwrshee]

✉️ TUTOR

duo ﹒ heeseung x fmr genre fluff and slightly suggestive wc 1,4k warnings nicknames , kissing , cursing ( tune in while reading )

clicking your pen, you stare at heeseung’s hands gripping on the pencil as he writes down the answer to a hard equation.

if you had told yourself that you would be helping the lee heeseung with his chemistry and maths homework every wednesday you would have laughed at yourself.

tutoring wasn’t something on your list, ever. even though you considered yourself smart compared to your class, tutoring people didn’t suit you. dealing with people who weren’t up to your level disgusted you.

it happened when your teacher suggested you to heeseung because his grades were not very great. he was the epitome of a classic, cliche frat boy. he always skipped lessons and you often spotted him with bruises or in the middle of hallway fights.

at first you didn’t wanted to accept the offer and thought of multiple ways to kindly decline the offer but seeing your teacher recommended you over and over again to him made you feel bad. the only reason you chose to tutor him was because your teacher would love you more than she hated you. you were such a try hard despite yourself knowing that already.

“you want to be with heeseung so bad.” yunjin says while teasing you for the nth time today, you were sick of it.

“i already told you, i do not like him.” you emphasise the last five words as you turn around ignoring her teasing face.

“who don’t you like park yn?” a voice whispers in your ear.

fuck. lee heeseung.

“none of your business lee, go back to your table” you shoo him away with your hands. “yes miss yn, see you after school!” he says in a high voice while waving his hands and giving you a stupid wink.

a stupid wink. you hated it.

it was right that you accepted your teacher’s offer to work with him, only for your benefit but as time flew by heeseung started becoming close to you. your small smiles and hand waves became long conversations about things that weren’t about the topic you taught him. he slowly started seeping in your life and you didn’t even realise.

“see it’s that simple!” you say to heeseung while finish explaining the question. the maths problem he had found confusing was a piece of cake for you. “ugh why do you find everything easy?” he mumbles under his breath just enough so you can hear the irritated tone in his voice.

“lee, just accept the fact that i'm better than you in every way possible” you tell him with implied arrogance to piss him off even more. "i kind of forgot that your a miss know-it-all thats ready to do anything to make me mad." he utters leaning closely to your face just so you could feel his hot breath surrounding your face.

"what the hell lee, get out of my face." you say while turning around hiding the pink tint entering your cheeks, why does he make you feel this way? your phone beeps making you get of your thoughts, realising that your tutor session with him had ended. finally, you think. no more covering your face from him until another 24 hours.

"class finished! you can now leave my room lee." you tell him while signalling at the entrance of your doorway. "yn," he speaks while making an abrupt pause, "see you soon." while waving his hands and giving you a smug smile. what was he up to now?

to be honest, you couldn’t sleep, no matter how hard you tried. all your attempts from sleeping with a eye mask to listening to music, failed. looking at your bright screen, you read the numbers 1:03. it was one in the morning and your eyes were still as wide as a bat’s.

just as you were about to turn around and try a different technique to make yourself sleep, you hear the rattling sound of your window opening, with a gust of cold wind entering your room. looking at the silhouette trying to get into your room, your defensive mind grabs the lamp by your table as you jump over your bed and hit the person’s head.

ouch.

when they turn around, you see them holding a hand to their head while the other one gives you the middle finger. must have hurt them bad. you can’t see them very clearly, however you can define the neat jawline, unkept hair and distinct fashion tense. why were they in your room? not a kidnapper right?

“look first and then react, park yn” a low voice says as the light in your room switches on as you can see the person in front of you. lee heeseung. “what are you doing h-” before you could finish your sentence his large hand covers your mouth as the other one grabs your waist. he places his hand on his lips while making a shh sound.

“can you not be quiet for a second?” while rolling his eyes, “how can i not when you trespassed into my room lee, i can report you for thi-” he interrupts you again “don’t you understand the meaning of quiet?” while leaving barely any space between your faces. “for gods sake lee, why are you here ?!” you utter with irritation laced in your voice, wanting answers, not him stalling your time.

“well…” he says while looking at you, “i need help with one of my math’s questions, i have a test tomorrow.” his hands still on your waist.

“so your telling me, you came all the way from your house, climbed up to my window, broke into my room just for a maths question?” tilting your head to the side, you ask him not very impressed.

“yes, i did all of that just for a maths question” he shamelessly replies while maintaining the eye contact between the two of you. you didn’t believe him one bit.

“i don’t believe you lee”

“then don’t”

“your not going to convince me?”

“have you always been this stupid?”

goddamn it. this man was getting on your nerves, your ego was getting crushed from each word he spat of his mouth. or were you really that slow? does lee heeseung make everyone feel this way?

“what if i said yes, just fucking tell me” you whisper-scream not wanting to wake up anyone in your house. “she’s so oblivious” a mutter rolls of his tongue just loud enough for him to hear himself.

“did you really think i came all the way for a maths question? you tell me miss-know-it-all.”

“i don’t have an answer”

“fuck it”

all that happened next was a blur to you. your lips and his lips were together, moulded perfectly like they were made for each other. both his hands were on your waist while your hands went automatically to his neck.

heeseung kissed you like it was the end of the world, kissing you so you would remember this for a lifetime. you couldn’t admit to yourself that you genuinely enjoyed it.

breaking it, you catch your breath while staring at his plump lips. “is this was what you wanted to tell me heeseung?”embarrassed to even look and talk to his pretty face.

“heeseung? thats new”

you lightly hit his chest and held you face with your two hands. he takes them away and cups your cheeks with his hands and gently kisses your forehead.

“you finally got it.” while bopping his nose with yours, “after you made out with me, yes i did heeseung”

“you know what, you should call me heeseung often,” he tells you while slightly stroking your hair looking at brown strands glow under the dim light, “ok, hee”

“hee?” he says flustered, the tables had turned, “hee suits you better.” you say while giving him his signature smug smile, now it was his time to be shy.

“so hee, what are we now?”

“do i need to kiss you again to remind you?”

“maybe?”

the kiss was a short as a peck — sadly, but you could hear footsteps approaching you room and a voice calling your name. it was your mum, “yn, are you asleep?”

“yes mum im fine” you hurriedly say while pushing heeseung towards the window indicating him to get out. before leaving your room, he sends you a flying kiss and a cheesy wink.

rushing to your window, you spot him at the bottom while waving his hands for you to see him, “see you tomorrow girlfriend!” you signal him to be quiet while whispering, “me too boyfriend.”

as you watch him leave, you sink into the warm sheets of your bed wondering what happened in the last hour. everything felt too unreal to be true, but it was, and you were glad it was.

it was a dream that came to life.

© flwrshee

note 💬 thank you my love @yeokii for proofreading this, this has been in my drafts for way too long and sorry @seongclb for making you wait so long. hoping it turned out well 😁

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