#But like that's something I can return to in my own time y'know

[sysig]

I decided to give a go to @niennanir’s lovely print-your-own-fic recipe on my Inside and Out as a test run and I’m quite pleased with the results as a first pass :D

I wish I’d taken a few more process pictures but there was a slight lull as I had to go shopping for 12x12 cardstock lol, but! I do have a couple closeups/extras that I added for funsies :D

I went with freehanding the title and I think in the future I would opt to not do that lol, at least not without a printed template. That said, both LibreOffice and SAI refuse to recognize my SCII fonts >:0 If you notice on the first page, I used the Ace Attorney font in italic haha, it’s an okay alternative even if it’s not what I actually want |0 I am happy with the gold detailing tho :3c

I did have an unconscionable amount of fun freehanding the ship caption tho ahh <3 <3 Immediate happy stims upon completion, their names together look so pretty ♥ Credit to Zarla’s original minicomic on that one :3

I also managed to get the last sentence of the fic isolated on the last page thanks to the formatting haha ♪

I was also able to add a bookmark! Ma happened to have a couple very thin ribbons to choose from and red ended up complementing the green very prettily!

It reminds me of VUX tongues hehehehe ❤️💕💖💞

[steviewashere]

What if I said I was thinking about TransFem!Wayne Munson where she couldn't transition because of her work in the military—until she was honorably discharged due to an injury she received while in Vietnam. And so she returns home, but is faced head-on with homing Eddie and keeping him safe and making sure that her job can keep the both of them afloat.

So she just keeps this all to herself, it's the one thing she has as her own. Nobody else knows about it. She doesn't do anything outwardly to express her gender—nothing like makeup or dresses or any of that other stuff that the women around her are engaging in, she just remains as she is. Mainly because she's not sure if she's ready to share herself to the world in that way. But she refers to herself femininely in private; writing away late at night or muttering some half-asleep affirmations to herself, something.

It's not until after 1986 that she mentions any of this. She comes home to Eddie and Steve in the living room. Exchanging some quiet conversation. She's not listening in, just strides right past; noting the way Steve had tensed at the sight of her. That he'd been holding tight to Eddie, that Eddie proceeded then to force their focus back on each other, keeping Steve away from looking at her. There was something bright, still, about Steve's face—almost a blush or maybe the pinker tone to his lips or something sparkly about his eyes; and then, right as Wayne was ready to push through the threshold of the bathroom, Steve murmurs, "I just want to be your girl, Eds. I thought this would help."

And that doesn't change anything for Wayne just yet, just makes her think. Sit on that. Think.

Steve wants Wayne to say Stevie. To use the feminine words. She's nervous about it, too. Timid and shy. She waits until they're watching basketball together, when thing are typical and warm. She speaks low. "Eddie said I could trust you with this. That you've been open arms." And Wayne just reassures Stevie. Reassures her to the point that Wayne hopes the words seep into bone.

The next time Wayne sees Stevie, she passes over a bottle of nail polish. Just a simple mauve-pink bottle. With a passing, "From my own collection."

Stevie, then, "From your own?"

"Yeah...figured that...that us girls gotta stick together." And the moment the words finally crystallize and realize and become real in the air, something just settles. Like a piece in a puzzle or the key in a lock. It feels...whole. "Maybe I could show you my technique? We've both got shaky hands, y'know."

And maybe this doesn't end with Wayne changing her name or presenting any sort of different—just her same. But that's comfortable and it's right. And what she sees in Stevie, she knows Stevie's appearance changing, her name settling different, her presence—all of it—was the right choice, too; that something became whole, something grew wings and freed right inside the center of Stevie's soul. And Wayne knows that feeling, because she's right there, too.

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #14 死

† camping trip mysteries †

"You'd have never said you'd be involved in a Council of 9 meeting at any point in your life; yet here you are, suddenly thrusted into a mission with the Chief you've just hooked up with, because your life couldn't possibly get more complicated."

next | index | wc: 9k

↪︎author's note : I really milked this camping trip for all it's worth, huh? Three whole chapters of outdoor shenanigans! I regret NOTHING. Anyway, here's the conclusion of our little nature excursion! Hope you enjoyed this slightly more chill setting (apart from, y'know, chapter 12's 👉🏻👌🏻 situation) because don't worry—there's PLENTY of time for everything to go spectacularly to shit later <3 MY KIWI HEAD 🥝🤧 I genuinely love him so much and I'm as surprised as you are! Who would have thought?? I seriously had ZERO intentions for Takama when I started this—no plan, no backstory, nothing. He just showed up in my brain one day demanding rights. Maybe I love him so much because he's the only one with more than two functioning brain cells? Like, the man is just... chill. Nice. Using his fucking brain. Being all wise and grounding while everyone else is having emotional crises left and right. THE VOICE OF REASON IN THIS CIRCUS. Takama x Reader endgame??? Jkjk this is a Jeon Jungkook fanfic ☝️ ...which doesn't mean shit won't happen before/after 👀 ANYWAY I'll leave you to make your own assumptions about our kiwi boy. All I'm saying is that sometimes characters write themselves into your heart and there's nothing you can do about it. Is it just me as an author having unhealthy attachments to my own creations? PROBABLY! You tell me! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go cry about my fictional characters for the fifth time this week. It's only Tuesday. Send help. xoxo 💋

The morning hike with Chaewon was exactly what you needed—fresh air, quiet trails... No drama.

But of course, you can't have nice things in Kkangpae.

Not when you return to find V lounging on a log like some tragic hero while J-Hope patches up his split lip.

"What the hell happened here?"

You eye the scene, already getting a headache. The thorny scent of roses fills your lungs as V gives you what immediately recognize as a smug smile.

"Just a little disagreement." V's smile is all teeth despite his busted lip. "Jeon can get rather feisty when he wants to."

J-Hope just rolls his eyes, clearly done with V's bullshit. He hands you a sanitary napkin without looking up, too busy sorting through his medical supplies—which basically means please help me deal with this drama queen.

You crouch next to V, ignoring how his eyes track your movement like he's a cat and you're the bird he wants to catch. The napkin comes away bloody when you dab at his lip, and his body tenses slightly under your touch—barely noticeable if you weren't trained to pick up on these things.

"Careful now." His voice drops low, playful. "I might bite."

You don't miss a beat.

"You bite, you get no help." The words come out flat, unimpressed. "I'm not one of your fangirls, V."

His games might work on others, but you've seen enough of his thorny side to know better.

Those roses have teeth.

A low chuckle breaks the tension. J-Hope's back with his medical supplies, but V's still watching you—though now with something that might be respect.

Or whatever passes for respect in that thorny mind of his.

"You really had it coming this time." J-Hope clicks his tongue, cranky doctor mode fully activated as he settles back down. "Jeon isn't someone you poke for fun without expecting consequences."

"Me?" V's eyebrow shoots up, all wounded innocence. "I was just having a friendly chat. Who knew our brooding Chief still had some fight left in him?"

The act doesn't fool anyone—especially not J-Hope, who (you bet your ass) has been patching up the aftermath of V's friendly chats' for years.

"Friendly chat?" J-Hope scoffs, dabbing at V's lip with more force than strictly necessary. "You two always turn everything into a dick-measuring contest. One of these days someone's gonna end up with worse than a busted lip."

V leans toward you like he's sharing a secret, mischief written all over his features. "He's just worried he'll run out of medical supplies if we keep this up."

You expect J-Hope to snap back—he usually does when people get like this.

But he just sighs, shoulders heavy with a worry that feels too genuine for the Kkangpae's ruthless doctor.

"Or maybe I'm worried you'll end up with a split skull, dumbass."

It's weird, the way it dribbles from his lips—like actual concern.

Which is weird in a place like this, where caring too much can get you killed. But then again, J-Hope's always been different. Maybe that's why he's one of the few people V actually listens to.

Sometimes?

V's eyes meet yours, like he's either hunting for something or escaping whatever was swirling in the doctor's pupils. Though, as everything with V, it vanishes instantly behind that shark-like grin.

"Ah, Hobi, always looking out for me. What would I do without you?"

"Probably be lying in a ditch somewhere." J-Hope says it casually, but his snark feels less blunt now. 

He gives V's shoulder a quick pat—kinda saying 'you're patched up, now get out of my face.' V nods his thanks, but his attention is already sliding back to you. His gaze lingers a bit too long, assessing.

"You've got a steady hand," he drawls, and you know he's not just talking about your first aid skills.

Thorns prickle your skin.

"And you've got a death wish." You hand the bloody napkin back to J-Hope, keeping your voice flat.

Unimpressed.

V's laugh shatters in the quiet. "Oh, you're interesting. I like you."

"Was that supposed to be a compliment?" You arch an eyebrow at him. "Coming from someone who just got his ass handed to him by Jeon, I'm not sure how much that's worth."

His smile widens; ever so slightly. Like what you said made him feel something—bad or good, you really don't care, but it's like his vines are slowly creeping into your lungs.

You just sigh, shrug it off. It's not your problem.

You've got enough on your plate without getting caught up in whatever dick-measuring contest is going on between V and Jeon.

Your attention abruptly shifts to Takama, sitting cross-legged in the grass like some zen master on his coffee break. Despite looking perfectly relaxed with his can of coffee, you know better—the man's probably cataloguing every movement in a three-mile radius.

He's just that kind of observant. It's just how he is, what he does, that much is clear from your training sessions with him.

Persistent without being belligerent; consistent without being insistent.

It's weird seeing him in casual clothes. The navy sweater and white collar combo is a far cry from his usual tactical gear, making him look almost... normal. Like he could be anyone's slightly intimidating older brother instead of Jeon's deadly second-in-command. Even his loose jeans seem deliberately chosen for comfort rather than combat.

He doesn't move a muscle as you approach, eyes fixed on the horizon like his mind has found refuge among the spongy dunes skittering away in the sky.

Or maybe he's just really into his morning coffee.

You plop down beside him, the damp grass immediately soaking through your pants because of course it does.

"Peaceful morning, isn't it?"

You break the silence, knowing Takama won't. Man's got the conversation skills of a particularly stoic rock when he wants to.

There's something calming about his presence though.

Like he's the drizzle after the hurricane.

Plus, he probably won't try to murder anyone over breakfast. Unlike some people you could name.

"Peace is rare around here." The corner of Takama's mouth quirks up slightly. "Savor it while it lasts."

You settle into the comfortable silence, watching the horizon paint itself in morning colors. Next to Takama, even coffee breaks feel philosophical.

"You and V," he starts, offering you the can. "You get along?"

You grab it and take a sip, considering your answer. The coffee's gone lukewarm.

"Hmm."

Yeah that's your answer, because you don't really know what to reply. It's definitely not a yes, but you don't... hate him either?

"He's a wildcard, but I can handle him," is what you end up settling for.

What follows is Takama's laugh—quiet, understated like everything else about him.

"V is... unpredictable. But he's loyal to the gang, in his own way." He pauses, choosing words carefully. "Just watch your back. Testing people is how he entertains himself."

You pass the can back, watching him take another sip. The liquid works through a swallow down his throat, and his Adam's apple bobs slightly. His head tilts towards you when he notices you've gone silent.

"And Jeon? How do you find working with him?"

The question makes your skin prickle, and you know it's not because of how sudden it is—but because of something else, as well.

Images from last night force their way through your mind like a wiggling worm unwilling to let go—callouses on skin, that silver lip ring, the way he'd touched you like you might break.

You take your time answering, very aware that this is Jeon's right-hand man asking—and that your neck probably still has marks his mouth left behind.

But you're not about to tell Takama that.

"He's... intense." You focus on shredding a blade of grass, needing something to do with your hands. "But we kind of... get each other, I guess."

Takama finally looks at you, and fuck—there's way too much understanding in those gray eyes.

Because with V you have a noncommittal answer.

But you just said you get along with Jeon. Kinda.

He doesn't comment on it, and it makes sense—being Jeon's second means he probably sees more than most.

About how hard exactly it is to be in Jeon's circle. Not part of it, not even near—just hovering.

It's not easy, you know that much.

"Jeon respects strength," he says quietly, like he's sharing a secret. "Stand your ground, and you'll earn his respect."

A pause. Then he adds, hushedly:

"Maybe more."

Your pupils flicker between his, trying to parse whatever the hell he means—but nothing in there gives you a hint.

He simply smiles, getting up and helping you up too.

You both turn back to watch the camp wake up, the morning routine starting to buzz around you.

Someone's cursing about cold showers. Someone else is complaining about AD.

You take another sip of lukewarm coffee, letting the bitterness ground you. It's easier than thinking about what maybe more might mean, or why your stomach churns at the thought.

Besides, you've got enough on your plate just dealing with regular Jeon.

You don't need to add cryptic messages to that mess.

The peaceful morning doesn't last long—because this is Kkangpae you're talking about.

Moon's voice cuts through your post-gossip haze, drawing everyone to the center of the camp like a very formal shepherd. Some people look about as thrilled as you feel about being up this early.

"All right, everyone!" He's got that tone—the one that says 'this is mandatory fun and you're going to like it.' "For today's lunch, we're doing something different. Group bibimbap, but with a twist: you'll work in pairs."

A ripple of murmurs spreads through the crowd. You catch Takama's eye—he just raises an eyebrow like 'here we go again'.

"These pairings," Moon continues, all business in his long coat despite the casual setting, "are chosen to mix different divisions and personalities. It's about teamwork and learning from each other."

You barely hold back a snort. Trust Moon to turn lunch prep into a team-building exercise.

Your attention snaps back when he calls out, "Y/N, you're paired with JM. I expect great things from you two."

Well, that could've been worse. At least JM's not likely to stab you over vegetable chopping techniques.

When you reach him, he's already smiling that gentle smile that makes him look more like a kindergarten teacher than a gang's financial mastermind.

"Looks like we're a team." His voice matches his whole vibe—calm as a lake on a windless day. "Any ideas on what we should tackle?"

You're about to answer when a groan cuts through your chat with JM.

You turn to see AD looking like someone just deleted his gaming setup, while J-Hope's already got that 'done with this shit' smile plastered on his face.

"Bro, why the fuck am I always paired with your annoying ass?" AD slumps against a tree, all dramatic like the gremlin he is.

J-Hope just rolls his eyes. "Because Moon loves to torture me, that's why. Come on, let's just get this over with."

Your eyes inevitably roam around the clearing, taking in the other pairings.

Jeon and Chaewon—they acknowledge each other with matching professional nods, something like 'we respect each other but let's keep this strictly business' hovering over them.

Takama and Jessi make an oddly perfect pair, his zen energy somehow containing her wildfire spirit as they huddle together, already plotting.

V's got Yunjin trapped in what looks like his usual chaotic storytelling, though she seems to be holding her own—and then there's Eunchae and Sakura, who look like they're planning to turn lunch prep into some kind of competition.

Meanwhile, Kazuha's hanging onto Moon's every word like he's sharing the secrets of the universe instead of just bibimbap instructions.

"So." JM's gentle voice pulls you back. "Should we handle the veggies? I think we could make a great team in chopping and prepping them."

"Sounds good to me." You find yourself matching his easy smile. "Let's show them how it's done."

At least someone in this chaos circus knows how to be normal.

You follow JM to gather supplies, falling into an easy rhythm. His gentle energy is oddly reassuring, and makes even veggie prep feel zen.

Plus, he actually knows what he's doing, which is more than you can say for half the pairs around you.

Because AD's already whining about something while J-Hope ignores him completely.

Yeah; that's Kkangpae for you.

But then you catch sight of V with Yunjin and your stomach turns, why, you don't know. Poor Yunjin's holding her knife like she's never seen one before, eyes darting around nervously.

And its knives, so yeah, V swoops right in.

"Let me show you," he purrs, and fuck him for actually sounding smooth.

You see his hand sliding over hers, like he isn't the same person who had blood on his lip an hour ago.

"There's a rhythm to it, like a dance." You watch him press closer, caging Yunjin with his body while he guides the knife. "Feel the movement. It's about confidence, purpose."

"Like this?" Yunjin's voice is small, breathless.

"Exactly like that." He eases into it. "Every slice tells a story of precision and care. And you, Yunjin, have a knack for it."

You grip your own knife tighter, fighting the urge to stab those thorny vines right out of the air. He's charming, you'll give him that.

But you fear the sweet floral scent roses simply masks decaying waste underneath.

And he needs to stay the fuck away from Yunjin.

You can't help noticing how she melts under his attention, all shy smiles and batting eyelashes. Like a moth drawn to a particularly deadly flame.

"There, you're a pro now." V steps back with a wink.

"Thanks, V." Yunjin beams up at him. "I think I've got it from here."

A slight movement catches your eye—JM's knife has stopped mid-chop.

His gaze darts between V and Yunjin like he's watching a car crash in slow motion, and it's real subtle, but you catch the way his jaw tightens.

"JM," you keep your voice casual, "you seem a bit distracted. Everything okay?"

He snaps back to his vegetables, gentle smile sliding back. "Oh, it's nothing. Just... observing the dynamics. It's interesting to see how different personalities interact, don't you think?"

You nod, watching V circle Yunjin. "True. Especially with V. Makes you wonder what goes on behind that smile."

"Exactly." His smile is halfhearted at best. "Sometimes, the most cheerful faces hide the deepest stories."

The way he says it makes you wonder just how many of V's stories JM knows.

And how many of them keep him up at night.

You and JM fall into a comfortable rhythm again, just hearing AD complaining about something, Eunchae's bright laughter, the clatter of pots and pans.

Then—crash.

Your head snaps up, muscles tensing automatically. Old habits die hard in Kkangpae.

It's Chaewon.

She's standing frozen, an overturned pot at her feet, staring at one of Jessi's guys like she's seen a ghost. His hand hangs awkwardly in the air where it had brushed against hers. You can see her breathing speed up—tell-tale sign of panic she's never shown before.

JM's knife stills mid-chop. Before you can blink, he's already moving toward her.

Jessi's there too, quickly motioning for the guy to back off—and he does, looking confused and apologetic, but you notice how Chaewon's shoulders drop slightly once he's out of reach.

JM murmurs something to her, too low for you to hear (though you bet that gentle voice of his could probably talk down a rabid bear). Chaewon gives a tiny nod, but her knuckles are still white where she's gripping her sleeve.

When Jessi touches her shoulder, you catch that silent conversation between the three of them.

The kind that comes from knowing someone's demons intimately.

"Alright, everyone, back to work." Jessi shouts. "Nothing to see here. Let's keep the focus on the task at hand."

Everyone turns back to their tasks, but you don't miss how JM stays close to Chaewon, or how Jessi's eyes keep scanning the crowd like she's daring anyone to make this worse.

JM hovers near her for another minute before coming back to your chopping station, and when he does, he picks up his knife and starts slicing carrots like nothing's happened at all.

"Guess we all have our off days, huh?" You keep your voice light, casual. No pressure.

JM's knife stills for a moment. He doesn't look up.

"Everyone has ghosts they're running from." The words come out soft. "Some just hide them better than others."

You let the silence settle. There's an unspoken rule in the gang—you don't go digging in other people's graveyards unless they hand you the shovel first.

"I'm gonna wash up," you mutter, already heading for the makeshift sink, feeling like he needs some silence before being back to normal.

Behind you, JM's knife resumes its path against the cutting board.

You're shaking water off your hands when footsteps approach from behind. Months in Kkangpae have taught you to be alert even for something as mundane as washing up after veggie prep.

"So you do know how to clean up."

The low drawl sends heat crawling up your spine. You know that voice—and the smirk that goes with it—without having to turn around.

"Turns out, I'm full of surprises." You flick excess water in Jeon's direction, catching his dangerous half-smile when you glance over your shoulder.

His chuckle hits you right in the gut, deep and rich and —fuck—suddenly all you can think about is last night.

His hands, his mouth, the way he'd made you shatter.

"Surprising indeed." There's that smug tone again. "Especially since I recall someone being too fucked out to help with cleanup duty."

"Well," you drop your voice low, just for him, "if you hadn't made such a goddamn mess, there'd have been less to clean up."

Your body remembers how close you'd been—how you'd ground against each other like teenagers, desperate and needy.

How his cock had felt pressed against you, so close but not close enough because someone didn't bring protection.

The frustration from last night still burns under your skin, reminder of what could have been.

If he'd just been prepared...

Jeon steps closer, and—fuck—even after last night, his presence still makes your skin prickle.

"A mess, you say? The way I remember it, you were just as responsible for the chaos."

"Chaos?" You meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down even as heat crawls up your neck. "Don't flatter yourself, Jeon. It was... mild disarray at best."

His grin widens, and you hate how your eyes keep tracking that stupid lip piercing.

"Mild disarray? You were panting like you'd run through every back alley in Seoul."

You scoff, trying not to remember how he'd made you shake, how his hands had felt mapping every inch of you.

"Breathless, maybe. But let's not blow it out of proportion."

"Hah." His eyes narrow. "You've got a sharp tongue. But we both know—"

A shout from across the camp makes you both freeze. Your eyes meet his for a split second before you step apart, smooth as shadows. Professional. Like you weren't just thinking about climbing him like a tree.

Again.

You turn away, finally letting out that breath you'd been holding.

The banter gets you hot under the collar but fuck if you don't want more. Not that you'll admit that.

Even if part of you is already plotting round two.

This time with actual protection. Because seriously.

"Anyway," his voice cuts through your thoughts, "we should get back to work. Long day ahead."

"Right." You nod, and then go right back to prepping veggies.

Yeah. This is going to be a very long day indeed.

The smell of bibimbap hits different after spending all morning chopping vegetables next to JM's weirdly zen energy.

And yup—everyone's gathering around the portable tables, looking stupidly proud of their contributions like they didn't just spend half the morning complaining about Moon's team-building exercise.

You grab a spot next to Yunjin, who's already halfway through telling you about her latest drama obsession; eyes practically sparkling as she waves her chopsticks around.

"No but listen—the main lead thinks his brother died in that fire, right?" She leans in close, pink hair falling in her face. "But then in episode sixteen we find out he's actually been alive this whole time! Living in China!"

You nearly choke on your rice. "That's the most unrealistic plot twist I've ever—"

"Mind if I join?" Takama's calm voice slices through Yunjin's enthusiastic plot summary; slight smile that makes him look more like a monk than Jeon's deadly second-in-command.

"Pull up a chair." You scoot over to make room. "Yunjin's educating me on the finer points of melodrama."

"Ah." His eyes crinkle as he settles in. "The ones where everyone's secretly related and nobody stays dead?"

"Exactly!" Yunjin beams. "Like this one where the brooding CEO's got a secret relationship—"

"Should've fought harder for the meat distribution," you murmur, poking at your mostly vegetable bibimbap.

Before you can finish sighing about your protein deficiency, Takama's chopsticks appear in your line of sight, depositing a generous portion of beef onto your plate.

"Here. I prefer vegetables anyway."

"Liar." But you're already mixing the meat into your rice, trying not to look too pleased. "Thanks."

Yunjin pouts at that, surely expecting some meat too (even when her plate shows basically 0 vegetables anyway). You kick her under the table, and she almost bounces with a chuckle.

"So, V's actually a really good teacher," she says dreamily, pushing her rice around. "Did you know he used to work in a restaurant?"

You cough.

V's "restaurant" experience probably involved more knife-work than cooking.

"Is that so?" Takama asks, slightly puzzled.

"Mhm!" She sighs, all starry-eyed. "And he's so patient. The way he showed me how to hold the knife—"

"Speaking of knives," Takama cuts in smoothly, "your technique has improved, Y/N. Been practicing?"

You're grateful for the subject change. Watching Yunjin moon over V is like watching a butterfly land on a Venus flytrap.

"Yeah, well. Can't let the Seduction Division down, right?"

His smile is small but genuine. "Right."

Movement then catches your eye—Chaewon's heading your way, black bob bouncing with each step. She smiles when she spots you, but you don't miss how she falters slightly when she notices Takama. Her eyes dart between him and the empty space beside you, calculating.

For a second, you think she might turn around.

But then she simply strides over like she owns the place, sliding into the spot next to you.

You don't miss how she angles her body away from Takama, though.

"What's got everyone looking so serious?" She bumps your shoulder playfully. "Don't tell me Yunjin's got you all hooked on her dramas too."

"Not all of us can be as cultured as Yunjin." You grin as Yunjin pretends to be offended. "We were just discussing the finer points of V's... cooking techniques."

That makes Yunjin blush, but Chaewon's eyes sharpen. You catch that protective glint—the same one she gets whenever any of the male members get too close to her division.

"Oh?" Her voice is light, but there's steel underneath. "And how did you find our resident psychopath's teaching methods?"

"Come on, he was really patient!" Yunjin pipes up. "And his hands were so—"

"Speaking of hands," Chaewon interjects quickly, "I heard there was quite the incident at morning coffee. Something about Jeon's right hook meeting V's face?"

Trust Chaewon to steer the conversation away from V's charms while gathering intel in the same breath. Sometimes you forget she's your Chief for a reason.

Heels on grass make your eyes stutter behind Chaewon's silhouette.

It's Jessi; obviously—who claims the spot next to Takama, all long red hair and confident energy.

She's probably the only person who can make eating bibimbap look like a power move.

"Well, well." She waves her chopsticks at your little group. "What's this about dramas? Please tell me someone's finally calling out how unrealistic those chaebol storylines are."

"We were discussing layers," you explain, watching her pile kimchi onto her rice with the same precision she probably uses to plan weapons shipments. "You know, how people aren't always what they seem."

"Like how our fearless Chief here—" she angles her head towards Chaewon, "—pretends to be all business, but I caught her crying over cat videos last week?"

"That was one time." Chaewon tries to glare but can't quite hide her smile. "And you promised not to tell."

"Please." Jessi snorts. "Everyone knows you're a softie under all that badassery. Remember when you threatened to shoot that guy who made Eunchae cry?"

"He deserved it." Chaewon's voice goes flat, protective instincts flashing. "Nobody messes with my girls."

"And that's exactly what we mean," Yunjin pipes up, somehow making even this observation sound sweet. "Everyone's got different sides. Like how Jessi acts tough but always saves the last strawberry milk for AD."

"Oi—" Jessi points her chopsticks at Yunjin threateningly, but there's no malice in it. "Just for that, you're testing all the new rifles when we get back to the castle. Someone needs to make sure they don't jam."

Something about the easiness of the conversation makes something unfurl in your chest.

It's weird seeing these deadly women just... being friends. Sharing lunch and inside jokes like they aren't some of the most dangerous people in Seoul.

But then again, maybe that's exactly what Yunjin meant about layers.

"Sooo," Jessi prompts, "who wants to share their deep dark secrets? Come on, don't be shy."

"Real subtle, Joo." Chaewon rolls her eyes, but you catch that tiny smile she always gets around Jessi. "What's next, trust falls?"

"I'd let you fall." Jessi winks, making Chaewon snort into her rice.

Takama, who's been quiet this whole time, surprises everyone by speaking up. "Sometimes the secrets we keep aren't about trust. Sometimes they're about protection."

"Like how we all pretend AD doesn't secretly feed the stray cats behind the castle?" Yunjin singsongs then.

That breaks the tension, sending ripples of laughter around the group.

Even Takama cracks a smile.

"Or how Jessi acts tough but cried during that dog commercial last week?" Chaewon dodges the grape Jessi throws at her head.

"That dog was reunited with its family," Jessi hisses, but she's fighting back a grin. "Forgive me for having a heart."

"Yeah, buried somewhere under those nine inch heels."

You smile at that, and you note how the sun is high over head now, warming skin through the trees.

You should probably get back to work—those intel reports won't file themselves. But for now, you let yourself enjoy this moment of peace.

Even gang members need lunch breaks sometimes.

Dodgeball is usually fun. Keyword: usually—because when it's among deadly people... competitiveness is too light of a word.

You're in the middle of debating some strategy with Yunjin when Jeon's presence immediately freezes the whole camp. One second you're planning how to take down AD's team (he might be a tech genius but his aim is shit), and the next—

"Meeting. Council of 9, now."

Jeon's voice is calm, as usual. But it's precise, blunt in a way that makes your hackles rise. His face gives nothing away—typical—but something in his posture screams urgent.

The Council members share quick looks before following him into the trees. Moon's already at his side, glasses catching the sunlight. Chaewon squeezes your shoulder as she passes, and Jessi winks at Yunjin, but neither stops to explain.

Just like that, your cozy little camping trip turns into a war room—playful energy from moments ago gone, leaving behind the familiar sensation that comes with being in a criminal organization.

"Damn." Yunjin drops onto the bench beside you, pink hair falling in her face. "Even on a camping trip, we can't escape the threats."

Your little lunch group now feels weirdly empty without Jessi's loud energy and Chaewon's dry comments. You catch yourself staring at the path where they disappeared, like maybe if you look hard enough you'll develop x-ray vision.

So much for that epic dodgeball tournament you'd planned. Although honestly? Getting hit with rubber balls suddenly seems like the least of your problems.

"It's just how things work around here." Takama shrugs, wiping sweat from his shaved head.

Of course the dodgeball game's been put on hold, everyone too distracted by the Council's sudden disappearance to focus.

"Hey, Takemichi!" Eunchae bounces over, still flushed from running around. "Any idea what's going on? You're like, Jeon's right hand and all."

Takama's eye twitches at the nickname, but he doesn't comment on it. "No clue. But Jeon doesn't call meetings without good reason. Especially not during planned activities."

Your eyes drift to where the Council members vanished into the trees. It's odd seeing Jeon actually interact with people—the man's about as social as a brick wall. Even J-Hope, who he supposedly tolerates, barely gets more than grunts out of him most days. That whole don't-fuck-with-me hurricane aura of his keeps everyone at a safe distance.

And yet.

You'd fucked him.

Well, kinda.

Heat crawls up your neck as you mentally reminisce about last night.

Pride mingles with something else as you remember that untouchable Chief's face when he came all over your belly.

Focus, dumbass. Now isn't the time to replay your greatest hits. If Jeon's gathering the Council in the middle of fucking dodgeball, something's definitely wrong.

"Do you think it's..." Yunjin chews her lip, lowering her voice. "MDF?"

The mention of Myung-dong Faction makes everyone's faces go pale.

"Hard to say." Takama's voice drops to barely above a whisper. "But we did just wreck their trafficking ring. Hanjun's gone now. They're not known for letting that kind of thing slide."

You share a look with Yunjin and Eunchae. You remember Hanjun from your last mission—the way he'd crumpled when Kkangpae was done with him.

The way his whole operation had fallen apart like a house of cards.

Sakura's usually bright face is serious as she crouches next to you. "If it's MDF, we're fucked."

"They've been too quiet." Kazuha runs a hand through her wine-colored hair, eyes scanning the treeline like she expects assassins to materialize. "That's not their style. Not after what we did to their golden boy."

And she's right, isn't she? MDF isn't known for their forgive-and-forget attitude. Their silence these past weeks has been... unsettling. Like holding your breath underwater, knowing you'll have to surface eventually.

"Whatever it is, we need to be ready." Eunchae sighs. "Can't let our guard down. Not even here."

"We need to be united now more than ever." Takama's voice rumbles low as he scans the treeline."Division only makes us vulnerable, they might aim for that."

And he's right; because Kkangpae's strength isn't just in its firepower—it's in moments like this, when everyone's got each other's backs.

"Whatever the Council needs," you say, meaning it. "We've got their six."

The group falls quiet, the forgotten dodgeball lying between you like some sad metaphor for your interrupted normalcy. Somewhere in the distance, a bird calls. You almost miss it under the sound of your heart pounding.

A rustle in the bushes makes you lean back.

Though it's just J-Hope, looking way too serious for someone who was laughing at AD's failed dodgeball throws ten minutes ago.

"They need you." His eyes find yours, steady and unreadable. "Jeon asked for you specifically."

You share a quick look with Takama, and he's wearing the same exact puzzled expression as you.

"Me? Why would he—"

J-Hope just shakes his head. Great. Because being summoned by the dude you almost fucked last night during a secret Council meeting isn't complicated enough.

But you don't really have much choice, so you trail behind J-Hope like a kid being called to the principal's office, mind racing faster than your heart.

What the actual fuck could Jeon want? And why during the middle of dodgeball, of all things?

The Council's little forest hideaway comes into view, and suddenly you've got nine pairs of eyes drilling into you.

Great. Just great. Nothing like being stared at by the most dangerous people in Seoul while you're in workout clothes and probably still red-faced from almost getting beaned by AD's wild throws.

Jeon stands like a statue among them, and he speaks immediately upon seeing you.

"We have a situation that needs your input."

No greeting, no explanation, just straight to the point. Pure Jeon. You'd roll your eyes if you weren't so aware of every Council member watching you.

"Remember your first mission?" Chaewon continues. "The women we rescued? You were the only one who actually saw them in that room."

Of course you remember—hard not to, even if you wish you wouldn't.

That cramped, dark room with its rusty bars and stale air. Women huddled in corners like broken birds, some too afraid to even look up when you'd entered.

Your first real taste of what the Seduction Division actually does.

Not the glamorous spy shit you'd imagined, but the ugly, necessary work of saving people from monsters.

"Remember what any of the women looked like?" Chaewon presses.

You try to remember, but the thing that comes first is the smell of fear and desperation—thick enough to choke on.

Then it's their faces. Burned into your brain. And then... hers.

"There was one girl," you start carefully, watching the Council's reactions. "Couldn't have been more than eighteen. Skinny thing, but her eyes..."

You pause, searching for the right words.

"Even in that shithole, she was... I don't know. Like she was just waiting for a chance to burn the whole place down."

You catch the tiny shift in Jessi's jaw, the way her fingers tighten around her weapon.

The air feels like a forest fire waiting to happen.

"Dark reddish-brown hair," you continue, the details getting clearer as you speak. "Matted to hell, but you could tell it was beautiful once. And the way she held herself..."

"That's enough." Jeon interrupts you. "Your recollection could prove useful. We believe that girl is connected to one of our own. This isn't some random MDF hit."

Your stomach drops. Because shit—that... That changes everything.

MDF might be brutal, but they're not stupid.

Kidnapping someone connected to Kkangpae? That's not just an attack—it's a message.

A very personal message.

You watch the Council's faces, trying to read between the lines.

If MDF knows enough to target someone specific, how much else do they know? How deep have they dug into everyone's past?

The thought makes your skin crawl.

"Now we know this is personal." Chaewon's voice is ice-cold, all business. "The question is, how do we respond?"

"We hit back." Jessi's voice cracks like a whip, raw and broken. "Show those fuckers what happens when you mess with Kkangpae."

J-Hope reaches for her shoulder, ever the voice of reason. "I know you want blood, Jessi. But an all-out war will only get innocent people killed."

Jessi jerks away from his touch, but you see how her hands shake. 

"I should've been there," she whispers, more to herself than anyone else. "I should never have left them alone."

The pain in her voice makes your chest tight; you've never seen Jessi like this—like she's barely holding herself together.

"Why don't we just storm their headquarters and slaughter them all?" V (who's been conspicuously quiet until now) raises his voice.

The guy is just leaning back against a tree, playing with a butterfly knife like he thinks he's the Joker or something.

"Picture it." His smile grows wider, more unhinged. "Their precious hideout painted red, bodies everywhere. We could string up their leaders—or what's left of them—as a warning."

JM gives him one look—one that somehow manages to pierce through V's psychotic haze. Like he's the only person besides RM who can actually rein him in when he gets like this.

V slumps back with an exaggerated pout, thorny aura receding slightly. The switch from bloodthirsty to playful is so fast it gives you whiplash.

"As entertaining as that sounds," JM's voice is steady, like a calm lake washing away V's chaos, "we need precision here. Not a bloodbath."

"You never let me have fun." V whines like a kid denied candy instead of mass murder. "But fine, we'll be civilized."

JM turns back to the Council. "Please continue. V's just... working through some things. He understands the need for balance."

Jeon's face gives nothing away, but you notice how his jaw tightens. Having to share space with V is bad enough—having to listen to his murder fantasies is clearly testing what little patience he has left.

"As I was saying..." Jeon continues.

JM gives V another one of those looks and V slumps against the tree.

The thorny scent of roses fades to something more bearable, though you can tell he's just waiting for another chance to suggest mass murder.

"I might have a better idea." AD clears his throat. "A bloodbath would be satisfying, sure, but we need intel first. Something clean and quiet that gives us some advantage."

You watch him run a hand through his messy blonde hair, thinking three steps ahead while looking like he just rolled out of bed.

"We know where their hideout is. Send in a small team, two people max. Get their data, their plans, their weak spots." He pauses, letting that sink in. "Information is better than bullets right now."

The Council members exchange looks. Even V stops fidgeting with his knife. You catch Jeon's shoulders relaxing slightly—he knows a good plan when he hears one.

"Stealth does play to our strengths," Jeon admits, and his eyes flick to you for a split second. "Who did you have in mind?"

AD jerks his chin toward you.

"She's perfect for this. Hanjun's well acquainted with Flower now, but Y/N? She was only there for the takedown. He never had time to report back about her or the other girls. But between all of them," he adds, "she's the only one who got to see all the girls."

Suddenly you've got nine of Seoul's most dangerous criminals staring at you. But you meet Jeon's gaze head-on, refusing to flinch.

Finally—a chance to prove yourself.

And maybe get some answers about what's really going on with MDF.

"She's just an ensign." JM mumbles. "She's gonna need backup."

The Chiefs exchange looks, probably running through a mental list of who they could trust not to fuck this up. Your heart's still pounding from being called in, from learning about this mission that could change everything.

"Jeon will lead this operation." RM's voice leaves no room for argument. Like he's announcing the weather, except the weather is your hookup being assigned as your partner.

Amazing, really love that for you.

"You're picking him for stealth?" V's voice goes high with indignation, like someone just insulted his knife collection. "I'm literally the Chief of Stealth Assassinations. What the actual fuck?"

Thorns prickle the air, sharp with offense. You definitely catch Jeon's tiny smirk—he's enjoying V's tantrum way too much.

"Jeon has the discipline this requires." RM's tone could freeze hell itself. "We can't afford your... creative interpretations of orders right now."

V opens his mouth—probably to suggest murdering everyone involved, knowing him—but JM slaps a hand over it. The look V gives him could kill a lesser man, but JM just raises an eyebrow.

"This mission's success is crucial." RM continues like V isn't plotting JM's death with his eyes. "We need strategy, not chaos."

You watch Jeon's face carefully. His expression gives nothing away, but you just know he's thinking the same thing you are:

How the fuck are you two supposed to focus on a stealth mission when you can barely keep your hands off each other?

"Come on," V's voice drags after getting rid of JM's hand, "we all remember how well these two work together. Like gasoline and a lit match. Either they'll kill each other or fuck like rabbits. Not ideal for a stealth op, eh?"

JM smacks his shoulder, but V just grins wider. Your face burns as Jeon goes rigid beside you, like a gathering strength.

If looks could kill, V would be six feet under from the glare Jeon's sending him.

You stare very intently at a patch of grass, fighting the urge to squirm, because V has no idea how close to home that "fucking like rabbits" comment hits.

Or maybe he does—you can never tell what that psycho actually knows.

"Enough." JM sighs. "RM's guidance is sound. Jeon, you're our best strategic mind. Tactical is probably our best approach right now."

Jeon's jaw works for a moment before he gives a sharp nod. "Understood. I'll lead the operation."

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

Stuck on a stealth mission with the guy you've secretly hooked up with, while his psychotic sworn enemy watches and makes sex jokes.

Just another day in Kkangpae.

"For now," RM's redirects the conversation swiftly, "let's focus on the task at hand. This camping trip was meant to build unity and trust. We can't lose sight of that."

Unity and trust.

Right.

Because nothing says team bonding like sending you and the guy you're dying to have sex with to infiltrate enemy territory while pretending you've never seen each other naked.

"There will be time later to prepare for the mission." He adds. "But while we're here, I expect everyone's full commitment to this team-building exercise."

Jeon surprises you by actually looking... chastened? as he gives RM a short nod. "You're right. My priorities were misplaced. I apologize for the disruption."

And that's... New. You've never heard Jeon apologize for anything.

But then again, RM's probably the only person in Seoul who could make him bow down. The amount of respect Jeon has for him is almost an entity of its own.

"No need to apologize." RM's stern expression softens slightly. "Let's refocus together on strengthening our bonds as a crew."

More team bonding. Because that's exactly what you need right now... bonding,̶ ̶o̶r̶ b̶o̶n̶i̶n̶g̶?̶

You give Jeon one last look before V's voice cuts through, all manic energy as usual.

"Last one back has to clean everyone's dishes!"

And then he just... takes off running like the psychopath he is, thorns receding with him. Because of course he'd turn this into a competition.

"Oh, fuck no!" Jessi kicks off her heels, already sprinting after him in bare feet. "I am not cleaning after his ass."

Chaewon and JM share this look—probably something like 'we're both too dignified for this shit' passing between them before they're running too, probably realizing nobody wants to risk V winning anything.

"How childish." J-Hope rolls his eyes, but AD's already got that gleam he gets when someone issues a challenge.

"Childish?" AD's grin is pure evil. "I bet I could eat enough for ten people. Give you something real nice to clean."

"You little shit—" J-Hope takes off after him. "Get back here!"

You glance back at Jeon and RM, both still walking like they're above such peasant activities.

But fuck it—you're already sweaty from dodgeball, might as well commit to the chaos.

"Think I'll take AD's strategy." You flash Jeon your sweetest smile. "Eat everything in sight, let someone else deal with cleanup."

You're running before he can reply, laughter bubbling up.

And then, merely a few second later, you hear his steady footsteps turn into something faster.

Looks like even the mighty Chief can't resist a challenge.

The campsite comes into view through the trees, and you pick up your pace.

You jog into the clearing, lungs burning, only to find V and RM already there.

What the actualfuck?

"How did RM beat us?" The words come out between gasps.

The man runs a criminal empire in designer suits, for fuck's sake. He shouldn't be able to outrun anyone.

V just grins that Cheshire cat smile of his and then, Jessi, Chaewon and JM stumble in next, all tangled together and cackling like teenagers.

"JM's face when I almost tripped him—" Jessi wheezes, red hair wild from running.

Everyone else filters in gradually, catching their breath and comparing notes on who cheated (definitely V).

But oddly enough, there's no sign (or sound) of J-Hope or AD.

Then—

"You absolute fucking cockwomble, let go before I rearrange your face!"

"Not happening, you lil' bitch. I'm not cleaning your blood off the floor again!"

You turn to find J-Hope and AD crashing through the underbrush like drunk bears, locked in what has to be the world's most undignified wrestling match. AD's blonde hair is full of leaves, and J-Hope's pristine turtleneck is covered in dirt.

Seoul's most dangerous gang, ladies and gentlemen.

Truly terrifying.

"You wanna fucking go, asshole?" AD thrashes like a feral cat, trying to land a hit on J-Hope. "I'll rip out your spine and use it as a fucking ethernet cable!"

But J-Hope's got him locked down, using his height advantage like the bastard he is. AD might be scrappy, but the doctor's got experience wrestling patients into submission.

"You need to get out of this unscathed first, you dumbass—"

"Then I'll download your consciousness into a punching bag," AD snarls, still fighting. "Have you getting hit for eternity, you piece of shit!"

Their little death match stumbles closer to camp. J-Hope's got AD in a headlock now, ignoring the increasingly creative threats being spewed at his face.

"I'll be patching you up after this, you psychotic gremlin." J-Hope finally slams AD into the dirt, probably enjoying this way too much. "Maybe I'll sew a live rat in your stomach. Let it chew its way out through your organs."

They keep wrestling, but it's getting pathetic—like watching two drunk uncles fight at a family barbecue. Both of them are red-faced and panting, shirts half-ripped from trying to hold each other back.

You can't help noticing they look wrecked—covered in sweat and leaves.

Actually...

"They must've been holding each other back the whole way here." You snort.

No wonder they're last. These idiots literally spent the entire race trying to murder each other.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" V's voice rings out like a demented game show host. "Our esteemed winners, graceful as ever!"

J-Hope and AD freeze mid-choke hold, finally noticing their audience.

The look of pure horror on their faces is priceless.

"Dish duty it is, boys!" Jessi's grin is absolutely feral.

AD shoves J-Hope off like an angry cat, but they're both too winded from their pathetic wrestling match to do more than hurl insults at each other.

"This is all your fucking fault!" AD jabs a finger at J-Hope's chest, looking about as threatening as a wet Pomeranian. "If you hadn't grabbed me—"

"My fault?" J-Hope's voice gets higher. "Big words from someone shaped like a fun-sized candy bar!"

"Say that again, you overgrown fucking giraffe!" AD tries to lunge but stumbles, still panting. "I fucking dare you!"

RM steps in before they can start round two of the world's most embarrassing fight.

"That's enough, you two. We all enjoyed the show, but it's time to work."

They both shut up immediately—even AD knows better than to test RM's patience. But the glares they shoot each other could probably melt steel.

"Can't believe I'm stuck with your ass for cleanup duty," AD grumbles, brushing leaves out of his blonde hair.

"Trust me, I'd rather perform surgery blindfolded. But maybe next time you'll think twice before dragging me down with you."

"As if I need help being slow from someone who runs like a drunk giraffe."

Their bickering fades as they head back to camp, still shoving each other like kindergarteners fighting over the last juice box.

Well. At least you'll enjoy a show during dinner time tonight.

One would think dinner time would be dulled down now, after the Council meeting earlier.

But nope—gang members are scattered around the fires like this is some post apocalypse scavenging situation.

You can't help watching V with Yunjin. He's leaning in close and probably whispering some bullshit about knives being romantic or whatever gets him going.

And Yunjin—sweet, perceptive Yunjin who usually sees right through everyone's bullshit—is eating it up. She's doing that thing where she plays with her hair, pink strands twisting around her finger while she giggles at whatever murder joke V's telling.

You snort into your food, because you just don't get what's it with these two.

The weirdest part? Even knowing what V's capable of (the rumors about his "artistic approach" to killing make your skin crawl), you kind of get why people fall for his act.

He's got that whole dangerous charm thing down to an art.

"Hey stranger!" Eunchae drops onto the bench beside you, nearly knocking over your drink. Sakura slides in more gracefully across from you, because someone in your division has to have coordination.

"What was the super secret meeting about? You went in looking normal and came out all..." Eunchae waves her chopsticks vaguely. "You know. Intense."

"Classified." You shrug, trying not to think about what that meeting means for you and a certain hurricane-aura'd Chief. "Above your pay grade."

"Ugh, you're no fun." She slumps dramatically against your shoulder. "I wish I could join the Council just to know all the juicy stuff."

"We're here if you need to talk," Sakura adds quietly, and fuck—sometimes you forget how perceptive your division can be.

"Thanks." You bump Eunchae's shoulder, warmth blooming in your chest. These idiots might be professional honey traps, but they're your idiots. "I mean it."

You go back to your food, half-listening to Eunchae's story about some mark who thought cryptocurrency was foreplay. But your eyes keep drifting to V and Yunjin.

What's your friendly neighborhood psychopath plotting this time?

However, the first drops of rain quickly hit your food like tiny bullets. Within seconds, the drizzle turns into a full-blown downpour because of courseit does.

Nothing like a surprise shower to end your deeply suspicious dinner observations.

"Oh, come on." Eunchae snatches up her plate, already running for cover, chestnut hair plastered to her face by the time she makes it three steps.

Your eyes snap to where V still has Yunjin trapped in conversation. They're both getting soaked but Yunjin's still hanging on his every word, pink hair turning darker in the rain.

"Yunjin!" You pitch your voice to carry over the rain. "Unless you want to catch pneumonia, might want to wrap it up!"

She blinks like she's coming out of a trance, finally noticing she's halfway to drowned. The spell breaks—thank fuck—and she hurries over to you, gathering her stuff with slightly shaky hands.

"Thanks for the save." Her voice is quiet, almost sheepish. "Got a bit... distracted."

"Yeah, no shit." You grab her arm, steering her toward your tent. "Let's get inside before we both melt."

You dodge through the chaos of gang members running for shelter, curses mixing with laughter. Someone—probably AD—slips in a mud puddle and lets out a string of creative profanity that would make a sailor blush.

The relative safety of your tent feels like crossing a finish line. The rain hammers against the canvas, but at least you're dry.

Well. Drier.

The rain doesn't let up for hours, turning the campsite into something out of a moody indie film. But inside your tent? It's like a sleepover bubble—wrapped up in cozy blankets and the glow from Yunjin's phone where some poor actor is having his third dramatic breakdown of the episode.

Yunjin's using your stomach as a pillow, pink hair splayed across your hoodie while she decimates the bag of chips between you. Every few minutes her hand dives in without looking, too focused on whatever absurd plot twist is happening now.

"This one's actually decent," she murmurs, smiling at the screen where someone's probably discovering their evil twin or something.

"If you say so." You can't help grinning as the male lead clutches his chest like he's having a heart attack over a text message. "These writers must be on something wild. Like, who comes up with this shit?"

Her giggle vibrates against your stomach.

"That's why they're fun! You never know what's coming next." She tilts her head back to look at you. "Kind of like living here, right? Never a dull moment in Kkangpae."

"God, don't jinx it." But you're laughing too because she's not wrong. Your life has definitely taken some drama-worthy turns lately. "Though I hope we're at least more realistic than that."

You both fall into easy conversation, trading comments about the show and today's chaos. When the male lead starts laying it on thick with the female lead, you see your chance. Time to figure out what the hell V was playing at earlier with all that knife teaching.

"So." You poke Yunjin's side with your toe, aiming for casual. "What's with you and V today? The whole knife lesson thing seemed... weird."

Yunjin doesn't look away from her drama. Of course she doesn't.

"I mean, have you seen him?" She sighs dreamily. "He's like a walking thirst trap. Those hands..."

"Oh my god." You stare down at her pink head in disbelief. "You'd actually fuck him? Like, actually actually?"

She finally tears her eyes from the screen, twisting to grin up at you with zero shame. "Why not? Life's too short not to ride at least one psychopath, right?"

The silence stretches.

"What?" She raises an eyebrow at your horror. "You wouldn't?"

"Jesus fuck no." You mime gagging. "You know he probably has some weird murder kink. Like, he'd probably want to chase you through a haunted house with a knife while dramatic music plays."

"Haunt play?" Her eyes go wide  before she breaks into giggles. "That's... weirdly specific. But don't knock it till you try it, right?"

"Yun." You roll your eyes so hard they might get stuck. "He'd probably set up a whole haunted house just to get his rocks off."

"Okay but..." Yunjin props herself up on her elbows. "Haunted house but make it sexy? That's kind of genius."

"You're actually insane." You shove her shoulder, both of you dissolving into laughter. "I swear to god, if I ever hear spooky music from his tent—"

"You'll what, call the ghost police?"

Her laughter shakes your whole body, bright and infectious, and the small space of the tent makes this ridiculous conversation feel somehow safer, more intimate.

Just two girls discussing their terrible taste in men while hiding from a storm.

Even if one of those men happens to be Seoul's most notorious psychopath.

Yunjin flops back down, using your stomach as a pillow again. The drama's still playing on her phone, but you're too busy thinking about V's games to focus on whatever chaebol drama is unfolding now.

"For now," she sighs dreamily, "I'll stick to living through these ridiculous romances. Much safer than the real thing, right?"

You hum in agreement, watching raindrops race down the tent's surface.

"Sounds smart. But if you do decide to test out V's haunted house kink..." You poke her side. "I want every single detail. For science."

"Deal." Her giggle vibrates against your stomach. "But only if you keep saving me from his 'passionate teaching moments'. My knife skills are fine, thanks."

"Always."

The word comes out softer than intended, but you mean it. In Kkangpae, real friendship is rare as fuck. People either want to kill you, fuck you, or use you—sometimes all three.

But Yunjin? She's different.

And all the while; the rain keeps drumming steadily against the canvas, turning the world outside into a blur of gray and green.

In here, none of that exists.

Not V's thorny games, not Jeon's hurricane, not the Council's secret meetings.

Just you and your best friend, safe and warm while the storm rages on.

For now, anyway. Tomorrow's another story.

next | index

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[ssahotchnerr]

Mom!friend reader bringing everyone cute lunches at the bau with personalized little notes for each person 😭 maybe hotch doesn’t even know that you do this for the others too so when someone mentions readers cooking, he’s like “wat”

personalized

ADORABLE cw; bau!fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of food, fluff and aaron being cute <3

the pace at which aaron was moving must've been more intense than he intended and realized; as he hurried past jj's desk, the small draft that followed caused a small piece of paper to flutter to the ground.

uttering an apology, aaron immediately reached down to pick it up. however it had landed face up, and his eyebrows furrowed in small confusion as he caught a glimpse of its contents.

your familiar handwriting kept his eyes, instead of peering away as he normally would - 'my sweet jj! thank you so much for your help on the arizona case file, you're a total lifesaver and your expertise is always appreciated, hope you know that. enjoy <3 ps - your new lavender sweater is the cutest. must plan a shopping day w/ pen soon!'

aaron's eyebrows stayed in that confused line, his eyes shifting up to jj's in a silent question.

"came with the cookies." jj answered for him, pointing her head towards the tupperware container perched on her desktop.

instantly aaron's mind made the connection - so that's why you were up late baking. that made more sense; the time you had spent baking was much too long for the small plateful quantity he had found reserved for him and jack this morning.

"pretty girl sure knows how to cook." derek added into the conversation as he approached the cluster of desks, raising his hand to pat aaron on the back but stopped himself halfway - aaron shot him a pointed look, hiding his own amusement, while jj attempted to conceal her smile with her palm.

another eyebrow furrow. "and when have you had her cooking?"

"here and there. always comes with a note too. i could just about fill a desk drawer with how many i have." derek admitted, with his signature, vivid grin. "she may be yours, we get special treatment too, y'know."

a bit later, you strolled into aaron's office, juggling numerous files in your hands.

"as requested," you started, dropping them firmly onto aaron's desk. "five action reports, minus dave's. he told me when you're as experienced and italian as he is, you can slack off and kinda get away with it. but i think that's his fancy way of admitting he's old." you joked with a eye roll.

"thank you," aaron flashed you a smile, sorting through his current papers. assuming that was all, you spun on your heel to head out and return to the everlasting joy of paperwork, but, aaron's voice stopped you.

"hey hold it, c'mere a sec."

you pulled back one of the chairs in front of hiss desk, the legs producing a scraping noise against the floorboards, but aaron gestured for you to come around. your eyes darted in the direction of his open blinds, then back at him. 'you sure?'

aaron nodded in confirmation. and if you needed any more convincing, once in reach you were pulled onto his lap, his hold on you tight.

if he wasn't being a stickler on the open affection, neither were you; you relaxed yourself against him just as you would normally, your body melting into his and throwing your arms loosely around his neck. "what's up?"

"i didn't know you wrote the team notes."

"oh," you laughed softly, with a light shake of your head. by habit your fingers ran along the skin of aaron's neck, scratching the nape of his hair gently. "yeah, if i bring in lunch or a treat or something. or both. or sometimes just because. an appreciation reminder."

aaron nodded, his fingers drumming against your hip comfortably.

"that's not a problem, is it?"

"well," aaron pretended to think, his hand changing motions and sliding up and down your side, "yes."

"actually?" you blurted as your own fingers paused. that wasn't the answer you expected, and it caused a rush of nervous heat to pool within you. until, you saw the feigned, solemn expression on his face.

aaron peered down at you, his playful eyes canceling out the forced pout on his lips. under his breath, he mumbled humorously, "i thought i was the only one getting notes."

you laughed brightly, the joy within the sound immediately bringing a smile to aaron's lips. "oh don't worry, they don't get the lipstick smooch on theirs. that's reserved for you and you only."

"i would hope not."

"or the, occasional... explicitness."

"again, i would hope not." aaron laughed again. his lips graced your temple, lingering gently as he spoke, "you're sweet."

"a very wise, very attractive person once said, 'people need to know they're important'." your lips quirked into a loving smile, a glint in your eyes. "thought this would be an easy way - i learned from the best."

[spaceycat]

bucky being a human furnace is so canon, right now im mainly going to be posting drabbles because shit be crazy rn and my schedule is FILLED TO THE BRIM... so we're going on a small little tiny hiatus. enjoy this drabble lovelies <3

this is a fluffy fic!! i'm too tired to write smut and i just needed this rn 😭

⋆★⋆ human furnace ⋆★⋆

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: dream a little dream of me by the mamas and the papas (3:14)

You were naturally cold, always wearing multiple layers even when it's reasonably warm outside, a blanket always wrapped around you and the heater cranked so high - but that soon backfired on you.

It was the middle of winter, it was actively snowing outside - the streets being flooded with white snow upon parked cars and the side of the icey street outside your apartment. The problem was:

Your heater was broken.

There was nothing you could do about it, you had no mechanical skills and in a way you would make it worse than what it already was. Every mechanical service was down or busy for the holidays, so you just had to sit in your kitchen - using your oven as a makeshift heater while you were drowning in jumpers and blankets.

That's when you heard your front door unlocked, that's when you dragged your phone out from the many layers on top of you - realising the time, the time that Bucky said he would be over to deal with some work with you and just.. hang out? His text messages are confusing sometimes, but you couldn't expect much from the guy who was born during the 1910's.

And that guy was very much in your apartment now, and you're sitting on the floor in your kitchen like some idiot - you pushed the blankets off of you, creating a lump of fabric in the corner of your kitchen as you quickly checked your reflection in the window above your sink, running into your living room and Bucky was there, taking off his jacket and scarf that was covered lightly in snow. He took note of your shivering and the sheer amount of sweaters and hoodies you had on.

"It looks like you just went into a snow storm y'know.""My body is my own personal snow storm." "Mm.." He just simply hummed at that, placing his messenger bag on your couch before he walked over to you - wrapping his arms around you, his warmth surrounding you.

You weren't particularly expecting to do this, or for him to be this warm. You knew he was naturally warm, from light accidental touches or him placing a hand on the back of your chair instinctively. You silently thanked the super-soldier serum that most likely made him the human furnace that he is.

You leaned into his warmth instinctively, wrapping your arms around him in return after a moment. "You're freezing.""I thought you knew that." "I do now.. it finally makes sense why you're wearing jumpers even in summer." You'd pull back from him, his hand resting loosely around your waist. "My heater is shot, had to resort to desperate things." You tilted your head towards the kitchen in a gesture of the blankets on the ground. "Heater's shot?" He raised a brow at you. "Mhm." "Get yourself some tea.. or just-- something, I guess. I'll fix it." "Buck-- you don't have to." "If it means that I won't have to see you shivering all the time, I'll happily do it."

You eventually returned with a cup of tea, the heat from the mug cupped in your hand slowly warming it up from the cold. In the otherhand, a metal box hopefully containing all the tools that Bucky can do to fix your heater.

He took it from you with a simple "Thanks", you watched him tinker with the machine for awhile - it was definitely a sight you could get used to, your hand keeping your head up as you lean against the arm chair of your couch that let you have the perfect view of Bucky. You felt so warm from his presence it almost cured your temperature dilemma.

After a short while, the familiar humming of the heater started up again. Bucky stood up, closing the box of tools - setting it on the coffee table next you. The soft clang bringing you out of your thoughts. "All done." He sat down beside you, a short sigh coming from his lips as he sat. You looked over to him muttering a "Thank you.", a desperate plea in your eyes for him to hold you close again. He looked at you, a small grin forming on his face as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders pulling you closer to him.

You rested your head on his chest, nuzzling into him a little bit more. His hand that was wrapped around your shoulder was now playing with your hair a small amount, almost as it was normal for him to.

You've been working on the heater since the early hours of the morning, it driving you out of your sleep - so it wasnt a surprise for you to slowly fall asleep against the warmth of the man that was Bucky Barnes.

As he heard your soft breaths, he grabbed the blanket wrapped over the couch that was nonetheless a result of your attempt at keeping yourself warm and draped it over you - placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head. Holding you forever closer as he heard the snow slowly fall outside. He could get used to this too.

[howlingmod]

can youu maybe do like a general request on how the phighters would react if you would randomly smother them in kisses with lipstick on EEEHEHEHE

summary - melee and ranged phighters when their s/o showers them in kisses

misc - another one of my shorter style things ... hope you don't mind !! im willing to do the support phighters if so desired just lmk ....

sword

"Hi to you too."

-He's stunned. No matter how often you do it he's just stunned. He doesn't know how to process it at all. Most times he'll just go stock still while you do it and then stare at you for a second afterward before it hits him and he just melts.

-Hides his face in his hands and mumbles something incomprehensible that he can't repeat when you ask. He just needs a few seconds to collect himself, is all.

-Returns the favor by giving you a quick peck on the cheek, grinning all the while.

skateboard

"Woah! What's the occasion?"

-He thinks it's super sweet but god does it inflate his ego. What do you mean he gets a smoking hot babe smothering him in affection? For free? Where's the catch?

-Of course, the catch is just you. ("NOT LIKE THAT. IN A GOOD WAY, LIKE 'A CATCH'. YOU'RE A CATCH. I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!") Everytime he'll make it a whole scene, lifting you up and spinning you around till you're dizzy before he sets you down and returns the favor. He loves how much attention it draws, it's just the perfect 'I love you and only you,' to him.

-If you've got lipstick on, he's giggling and grinning like an idiot afterwards. He's only a little bit heartbroken when he has to wash it off.

katana

"... Thank you."

-If he's got the mask on, he thinks it's a little silly. It's such a grand show of affection that he's usually left wondering what's got you so excited. Not that he doesn't enjoy it of course, he'll stay perfectly still so you've got enough space to do as you wish. He'll return the gesture by standing a bit closer to you, maybe leaning his forehead against yours if you're alone.

-If he doesn't, he'll usually get pretty teary eyed. It's not often he takes the mask off, even less common for him to allow your touch so freely, but he trusts you. Knowing that you can love him, that you take it upon yourself to bless his skin with your lips? It ruins him.

-Either way, he finds it extremely endearing.

banhammer

"Well, aren't you sweet?"

-He'll tease you about it endlessly. You just really can't stay off of him, can you? I mean, he doesn't blame you, he is a pretty big deal, of course you'd have such a grand way of showing your love.

-He does really enjoy it though, something about the combination of your lips on his skin and your hands on him to steady yourself makes his heart swell. He likes the physical affection of it all, how close you have to be to him. It tells him that you're not going anywhere anytime soon- not like he needed to know that.

-Though, the affirmation certainly does help, if the way he pulls you so tightly to his side tells you anything.

rocket

"What's all that for?"

-Honestly, it's a little hard to get him to stand still long enough for you to do it. He's always got something going on, he's too restless to really sit in one place doing nothing. So, he's always taken aback whenever you start smothering him in kisses.

-He's a little confused. It's sweet, sure, but he thinks of it more as you teasing him. It's such a stereotypical, over the top gesture that it usually devolves into you playfighting. The peace can't last long with him, unfortunately.

-Just know that his playfighting is his own way of returning the affection, he wouldn't go easy on just anyone like this, y'know. Plus, he just thinks its fun. He likes pushing your buttons right back.

slingshot

"Hi sweetheart."

-Honestly? Doesn't have a crazy reaction to it. Chances are that you guys have to settle for more dramatic shows of affection since he tends to be so busy at the cafe that by the time you guys do have the ability to sit down and enjoy each other, there's a lot of pent up 'i miss you' type gestures

-THAT BEING SAID: he does really love it. He thinks its so sweet and silly and it makes him feel whole again when work's drained him. He'll usually return the favor right afterwards, just to keep everything even. can't be skimping out on you, can he?

-Unfortunately you can't do it very often but every chance you do get is cherished to the fullest degree.

shuriken

"Aww! I love you too!"

-Can't stand this mother fucker he's always gotta be doing something. He lives for big showy gestures, he loves just how grand they feel. He's maybe just a little bit of an attention hog, so of course he likes the gesture that requires you to focus on him and him alone.

-Usually returns the favor but he might opt to just pick you up and spin you around instead. He likes being able to show off his love in his own way and he enjoys feeling you resting on him, you wouldn't let him pick you up if you didn't trust him to not drop you or anything. Plus, the pressure is just nice.

-He adores this habit of yours and, more often than not, whenever he sees you he'll instinctively get close and offer up his face for your attention.

scythe

"Aren't you just the sweetest little thing ..."

-Yeah she's a fan. No surprises here, the woman who likes showing you off and having proof that you're hers likes when you devote so much affection to her and leave a visible mark with lipstick. Shocking.

-Unsurprisingness aside, she really does like it. She just thinks it's adorable and it feeds into her ego. She won't do it back since she likes to keep her image up but she'll usually return it by grabbing your face and giving you one solid kiss back. It's her own way of 'confirming' the gesture and showing that it doesn't just go one way. She would hate to leave you hanging, after all.

-There may or may not be a reason she's been gifting you so many different shades of lipsticks. While she may favor cool-toned ones in the name of the cult's color palette, she doesn't mind seeing warmer ones on herself for this reason.

hyperlaser

"You're cleaning this off."

-He's got mixed feelings. On one hand it is a very sweet gesture. He knows he's not always around and he's so hot-and-cold with affection so he understands why you choose something so 'over-the-top,' he doesn't mind that. He finds it to be a pretty endearing way of you almost reaffirming your sole affections to him. It's comforting, in a sense, that he knows you can look past all his inconsistencies and still choose him.

-That being said, you might have to hold off on the lipstick. He's got a reputation to uphold and it can stick a little harder to the glass of his helmet if he doesn't clean it off right away.

-Despite his threat you are not in fact cleaning it off lmao. You are however going to sit and look pretty while he does it.

[supeson]

You take Clark with you to get your annual physical done. Partly because you always hate going to the doctor, and he bribed you with food afterwards, and partly because your prescriptions were about to run out. Thankfully the nurse practitioner you always see is a pretty easygoing woman, and always wraps things up pretty quickly.

I can taste the Chinese buffet from here, you think as you fill out the intake form. Clark looks over your shoulder for any mistakes, frowning at your answers to the questionnaire portion.

"Why aren't you telling them the truth, sweetheart? You do have trouble sleeping, and it's certainly more than "rarely"," Clark points out.

You roll your eyes and cover up the sheet with your arms. "Because, Clark, if I was honest about how I'm doing, they'd just tell me to exercise and eat better and send me to a psychiatrist. Trust me, I can manage. Besides, mind your business." You lower your own voice and lean in closer. "You wouldn't understand the relationship between patient and physician because your physicians are stone cold robots located at the North Pole. Get off my back."

He tinges pink and puts his hands up in surrender. "Alright, you've got me there."

Just as he's about to open his mouth to say something else (probably to extol the virtues of honesty), the door opens, and a nurse calls your name. You get up, dragging your big lug of a boyfriend with you.

After getting your height and weight taken, you're put into a room, where the two of you watch the small informational screen they have playing continuous ads for the health care center and other supplements.

"Y'know, they're right, babe. You're getting older, maybe we should get you on the books for a prostate exam," You say, budging your elbow into him. He flushes again and just pushes you away from himself with his shoulder. The push is just a touch too hard, as you go reeling from it, ending up on the floor. Clark apologizes profusely and helps you up, just as your nurse practitioner walks in.

You stand ramrod straight. "Oh my god, this is so embarrassing. Um-"

Your nurse practitioner puts on a calm smile and sticks out her hand. "Hello, I'm nurse practitioner Clearwater. And you are?"

Clark stands up immediately, and gives her a firm handshake. "Clark. Clark Kent. Boyfriend."

From there, the whole thing is pretty routine, in your opinion. You talk about your general health, she asks about your meds, and you go on little diatribes about your continuing journey with mental illness. It's all routine until she's listening to your heart and sees some mottled bruises on your upper arms, and again peeking from your shorts as you sit straighter on the table. She takes a look at Clark, taking in just how large he is, and takes a deep breath.

"Mr. Kent? This next part of the exam is bit...private. Would you mind stepping out into the hallway for a moment?"

He perks up and nods enthusiastically. "Of course, it's no problem." He gives your hand a squeeze on the way out, and you just give him a soft smile in return. Clearwater then turns to you, all business.

"And how is your home life?" She asks.

You scratch your head. "I mean, if I'm honest? Vastly improved. Clark is a good guy, and means well."

Clearwater types something into the computer hooked into the wall and just nods. "I see. And you're not experiencing any...issues?"

You huff a laugh. "Well, we had an argument about the laundry last week, but nothing a little "tough love" can't fix, right?"

Outside, Clark is just beet red, covering his face with his hands. He knows exactly what she's asking about, and he is mortified. Mortified at the thought that anyone would think he would ever lay a hand on you in anger. As if he isn't the most careful man in the world with you, as if he doesn't hold you like a glass figurine every time you so much as give him a hug, as if-

"And what does that look like?" She's typing more quickly now, and you quirk an eyebrow at her.

"I'm sorry, are you insinuating something here? because I can promise you-" You cut yourself off with a laugh. "It's the bruises, isn't it? You saw the bruises on my arms and thighs and assumed they were from him?" You laugh more loudly, and even wipe an imaginary tear from your eye. "Oh, god, I'm sorry, I should be taking this seriously. Have you never read my chart? I answer every questionnaire you guys give me, every time, so I'm surprised it hasn't been noted in my chart what I do for work. I'm a veterinary technician. I get the shit kicked out of me by dogs all the time. They can be finicky bastards, when they want to be. Clark would never put his hands on me, unless he wanted me to beat the sense back into him, I promise."

Clearwater pales, then quickly hits the back button on the keyboard, keeping it pressed for a good chunk of time. "....I see. And would you like me to send the refills to the pharmacy we have on file?"

*

The second the two of you clear the office's door, you burst out laughing, hanging onto Clark's arm. "You heard all of that, didn't you babe?"

Clark's face screws itself up, clearly affronted. "I can't believe that! She doesn't know me, how could she assume! I would never! And to think! Who could even! And if-"

You pat his bicep, still snickering. "Don't worry baby. you heard me set her right. I know you wouldn't, and I love you for it." You tug on his arm to get him to stop walking, and pull him down to your level. You slot your lips against his and give him a full thirty second kiss. When you finally pull away with a pop he looks dazed, with a small, marveling smile on his face.

"...gee..." He mutters.

You laugh again, hook his arm with yours again, and start walking. "Now c'mon, babe, it's lo mein time!"

[zorosangell]

I AM BEGGING YOU FOR PART THREE OF NURSE AND NIGHTGOWN PLEASE OMGG !! I LOVED IT SO MUCH

⛥ﾟ・。 rum

synopsis: part three of nurse, part two of nightgown -- nami notices zoro's recent, odd behavior and decides to drag him out to a bar in order to confront him. little does she know his funk is due to the absence of a certain someone... and little does he know that certain someone is right under his nose.

cw: part 3/?, fluffy fluff, comfort, nami is such an older sister, reader is drunk, zoro is emotionally constipated, zoro is WHIPPED, honestly might make this a series, what do you guys think?

"All right, that's it," Nami huffed, crossing her arms over her chest as she leveled the man sitting across the table with a pointed look. "I'm sick and tired of your crap. We're settling this now."

Zoro's brows furrowed mid-swig, confusion and sudden annoyance forcing him to slam his stein down prematurely.

"The hell are you talking about?" he replied, using his forearm to swipe the excess beer from his lips. "Sick of what?"

"Of you, asshole! And your behavior as of late!"

At that, the swordsman scoffed, unable to stave off his eye roll as he leaned back in his chair.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Nami mocked in his voice, before quickly returning to her own. "Ever since the crew joined back up, you've been acting different! You're cranky. You're quiet. And you always keep to yourself."

"Is it a crime to want some alone time every once in while?" he fired back, sharply.

"Oh, please. It's every day," she scoffed. "You walk around the ship all broody, staring out at sea like a kicked puppy when you think no one's looking."

"I do not!"

"Do, too!"

"Do not!"

"Do, too!" the navigator leaned forward, raising a brow. "Did something happen to you while we were gone? Are you depressed?"

"What?! No! I'm not—!"

"Did you have a pet or somethin'? Did it die?"

"No! I—!"

"Did you have to live in a shack? Under a bridge? In the woods?"

"Nami, I am not depre—!"

"What? Did you meet a girl? Fall in love?"

She chuckled, amused by the ridiculousness of the last one as she glanced out the window.

Zoro? Fall in love?

'Yeah, right.'

The man didn't have a single romantic bone in his body, so much so that the navigator firmly believed he was incapable of feeling it (non-platonic love, anyways).

But as Zoro fell suspiciously silent, Nami's brows furrowed, her mahogany brown eyes slowly trailing back to his.

There, she noticed that he was avoiding all eye contact, and there was a certain tinge of pink stinging his cheeks as a bead of nervous sweat trickled down his temple.

He looked guilty.

He looked really guilty.

'Which could only mean...'

When the pieces finally clicked, Nami let out a dramatic gasp, nearly calling the attention of the entire bar.

"You did meet a girl!" she squealed, utterly ecstatic.

"You want the whole island to know?!" Zoro whisper-yelled, eyes flighty as he glanced around the room.

"Tell. Me. Everything! Is she nice? Is she pretty? Well, I'm sure she has to be to get your attention! Oh, my God! I can't believe this! Zoro and a girl!"

With a sigh, the swordsman sank slightly in his chair, accepting now that the navigator had the scent, she would be relentless in her hunt for details.

"It's not a big deal... I crashed on her island and we just... spent time together."

"No, no, no, my dear Zoro. This is a huge deal! Your first love! Ugh! I'm jealous."

The woman was nearly shaking with excitement and pride, her eyes moving to raking over all the women within the establishment.

"Did she have freckles like her?"

"Or her?"

"What was her style like?"

"How'd she do her makeup?"

"Did she do makeup?"

"If I'm being honest, I think you'd go for a more natural gal."

"What was her favorite color?"

"Y'know, you can tell a lot about a girl by her favorite color."

"Did she have hair like hers?"

At the last question, Zoro rolled his eyes, but humored the navigator nonetheless, leaning over slightly to take a peek at the woman she was talking about.

But the moment he set sights on her, his eye went wide, heart nearly stopping in his chest.

He couldn't see much of her face given her back was facing him, but from where he was sitting, her hair looked similar if not exactly the same as yours.

'No way...'

In fact, her everything looked exactly the same as yours.

Her hair.

Her skin.

Even the dress she was wearing looked eerily familiar to the one you would always wear.

But that had to be a coincidence.

Right?

Right?

"Is that a ye—Whoa! Where are you going?" Nami asked, confused as the swordsman stood from his seat, an unreadable expression stretched across his face.

It was as if he was in a trance, body on auto-pilot as his feet seemed to carry him toward the bar.

Even if it wasn't you, even if it was just a crazy coincidence, the simple possibility of it being you was enough to send the butterflies in his stomach into a frenzy.

Earlier in Nami's interrogation, she had hit the nail right on the head.

The man was not exactly depressed, but to say he wasn't in his feelings over leaving you behind would be a big, fat lie.

He was pissed he hadn't manned-up and expressed his feelings to you sooner, saddened by the fact that he probably wouldn't see you again for a while, cranky about going back to Sanji's cooking after eating your delicious food for two years.

Along with a million different other things.

And what would make it all better would be to hear your voice one more time.

To cup your smooth cheek in his calloused hand.

To run his hard fingers through your soft hair.

To—

"Can I... help youuu, sir?" a light, slurred voice cut through his thoughts.

Instantly, Zoro snapped himself out of it, his face burning with embarrassment as he realized he'd been standing at the bar the whole time, hovering over the woman like a creep.

Though, as his eye finally began to focus, he was quick to learn that it was not some woman he was standing next to, but rather the woman he had sincerely hoped for her to be.

The woman that had taken care of him over the last two years.

The woman whose warmth had never failed to bring a smile to his face.

The woman who had managed to win his heart and mind without so much as lifting a finger.

You.

"(y/n)!" Zoro exclaimed, utterly shocked as he pulled you into an embrace. "How did you—? Where did you—? What are you doing here?"

"Woaaaah, there, mister!" your brows furrowed, words slightly jumbling together. "No touchin'. M'savin' myself for th'new Greatest Swordsman."

Confused, Zoro pulled away, taking a moment to really get a good look at you.

Lidded eyes.

Jelly-like limbs.

Slight sway.

'Christ...'

You were drunk.

"Since when do you drink?" he asked, cocking a brow.

"Oh, my God, you hafta try it! The bartender man-guy gave me...what wuz it... oh, yeah! Rum! It tastes soooooo good. I think had two cups. Or maybe seven? M'not sure."

Zoro's brows flattened.

'Of course.'

Your first time drinking and you chose rum of all things.

"(y/n), what the hell are you doing? You know how dangerous this is?" the swordsman's brows furrowed, tone suddenly scolding. "Leaving the island, getting drunk. Does Mihawk even know you're out here?"

"Heyyyy, how did you know Mihawk is my da—?"

Quickly, Zoro slapped a hand over your mouth, stopping you from outing your family secret.

"Christ, woman," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's me... Zoro. Remember? Gloom Island, Chuki..."

He paused a moment, flush burning up his neck as he suddenly remembered something you once said.

"...M'the idiot that crash landed on your island."

Instantly, it all fell into place, and your eyes came alive with starry wonder as you finally realized it was him.

Your idiot.

"Zoro!" you squealed, practically throwing yourself on top of him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and peppered kissed all over his cheek. "OhmygodsImissedyousomuch!"

Taking a moment, you pulled back, cupping his cheeks and squeezing them.

"Ya would be s'proud of me! There was this nice guy I wuz talkin' to a minute ago an' he tried t'hug me but I pushed 'im off 'n' told 'im no."

Your words turned Zoro's heart into a puddle on the floor, his whole chest roaring to life at the love-struck way you looked at him.

Oh, yeah.

He was in deep.

Biting back a smile, he shifted his grip on you, his hands moving to hook under your thighs and lift you out the stool bridal style.

"C'mon," he sighed, ignoring the violent flutter of his stomach as you rested your head against his chest. "Let's get you some water and a bed."

"Noooo. Wanna stay up an'..." you yawned, stretching your free arm and rolling your shoulder. "...an' talk t'you. Missed you s'much, Zo."

The swordsman took in a deep breath, attempting to fortify his will, seeing as you somehow became even more beautiful and adorable since he last saw you.

Any more drunken confessions and he was going to end up in the palm of your hand.

"Just get some rest for now, all right? We can talk later when you're... you."

Turning around, he started toward the bar's exit, managing to lock eyes with Nami just before reaching the door.

Her eyes were misty, hands clasped over her heart as she looked between the two of you, flashing a warm smile.

She's a sweetheart, she mouthed, proudly, Don't screw this up.

With a scoff, Zoro rolled his eyes, quickly pushing open the door and stepping outside.

As if he would.

Though, her reaction did force him to glance down at you again, your now sleeping expression dragging two daunting questions from the back of his mind:

One... How the hell was he going to explain this to the crew?

And two... How the hell was he going to explain this to Mihawk?

[bibibahngg]

【ｕｎｅｘｐｅｃｔｅｄｌｙ　ｙｏｕｒｓ】

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚pairing: han jisung x reader ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖summary: falling in love with your roommate jisung is chaotic in the best way. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚warnings/genre: fluff!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that's basically it. like there's a cat? idk? ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖notes: i haven't posted my writing in a loooooong time, but i think i've improved a lot over that time ngl!! im a sucker for the golden retriever n black cat dynamic lol! anw, english isn't my first language, so there might be grammar issues and such. enjoyyyy

living with han jisung was like starring in your very own sitcom. it was chaotic, unpredictable, and occasionally hazardous to your health. like the time he tried to make pancakes.

"yn! breakfast is almost ready!" jisung called from the kitchen.

the phrase alone was enough to set off alarm bells. you hurried out of your room to investigate, and sure enough, smoke was already curling out of the kitchen doorway.

"ji, what did you do?" you demanded, rushing in to find him frantically fanning a smoking frying pan with a dish towel.

"it's fine! everything's under control!" he insisted, though the blackened.. um.. something... that was in the pan was saying something else. "why does it smell like you set a campfire in here?" "its artistic, okay? slightly charred is a valid flavor profile"

you snatched the pan from him and dumped the remains into the trash. "artistic my ass.. hannie, you literally almost set off the smoke alarm! what did i say about unsupervised cooking?"

he pouted, rubbing the back of his neck. "i just wanted to make breakfast for you, y'know? as a surprise.."

your annoyance softened a little. "that's sweet" you admitted. "but maybe next time, let's stick to cereal."

"or", he said, brightening, "you could cook and i could supervise!"

"you supervise? the guy who just tried to set the kitchen on fire?" "exactly! teamwork makes the dream work, right??"

you rolled your eyes affectionately, shoving a bowl of cereal into his hands. "here. eat this before you burn the whole building down"

"fine.. but i'm still your favorite roommate, right?"

"you're literally my only roommate, hanji.." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it was pouring rain when you returned from your grocery run, your arms full of bags and your raincoat looked.. rather suspicious. jisung, lounging on the couch, perked up as soon as you walked in.

"uhh yn, what's in your coat..?" "..groceries?" "nuh-uh. groceries don't move." "it's.. a new kind of.. pasta..?"

"c'mon, what's in there??", he reached for the zipper, but you backed away, clutching your coat protectively.

but just then, a tiny, muffled meow escaped from your coat. both of you froze. "...", jisung was pointing at you like you'd just confessed to a crime. "is there a cat in your coat?"

you sighed and unzipped your coat to reveal a soaking wet, shivering black kitten curled up inside. "i mean come on! couldn't just leave her, she was in a box by the road, and it was raining so hard! look at her, she's so small!"

jisung stared at the kitten for a long moment before it let out another tiny meow. "so… can we keep her? please?" you spoke again.

he groaned. "yn you know i'm a dog guy! what am i supposed to do with a cat?"

the kitten blinked up at him with its big, round eyes, and his resolve melted immediately. "..fine", he muttered. "but i'm naming her bean."

"bean?"

"yeah" he said smugly. "because she's black, like a coffee bean. and also because she's cute, like me." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it didn't take long for bean to integrate herself into your chaotic little household. she adored climbing onto jisung's lap while he was gaming, batting at his controller until he lost matches.

one night, you came home to find jisung lying on the couch, wearing an expression of pure betrayal. bean was perched on his chest, staring him down with judgment. a lot of judgement.

"what happened..?" you asked, setting your bag down.

"she ate my last slice of pizza" he said mournfully.

you snorted. "you left it on the coffee table. that's, like, basically an invitation."

"she's a menace", he grumbled. still, he smiled softly when he looked back at bean. "she's just like you."

"...excuse me?" "black cat energy." "what?" "y'know?? you're all aloof and sarcastic, but deep down, you care. you just don't show it much." were you in a romcom?

your cheeks warmed. "whatever, hannie..." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it was just some thursday evening when everything changed. you were in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup, while jisung leaned on the counter, watching you.

"you're unusually quiet", you said without looking up.

"hm? 's nothing." his voice was soft, almost hesitant.

you glanced over your shoulder, only to find him staring at you with an expression you couldn't quite place.

"you're acting weird lately."

he chuckled nervously. "i just-" he hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "i think i'm in love with you."

the spoon in your hand froze mid-stir. "...what?"

"i'm serious", he continued. "you're… everything. you're funny and caring, even when you try not to be. you brought home a cat, for crying out loud, because you couldn't stand to see it suffer in the rain. you cook me dinner when i'm too lazy to fend for myself, and you make this place feel like home."

your heart thudded painfully in your chest as you turned to face him fully. "jisung-"

"i know it's a lot", he said quickly. "and i'll get it if you don't feel the same. but i couldn't keep it in anymore."

for a long moment, the room was silent except for the simmering stew. then, slowly, a smile crept across your face. "you're an idiot", you said, your voice shaking slightly.

"...wh-"

"i love you too", you admitted. you could feel your cheeks burning up. now, when i tell you his face lit up like a fucking christmas tree, i mean it. "wait, really?!" "..shut up and set the table before the food gets cold."

he beamed, practically skipping off to grab plates, while bean watched from her perch on the counter, tail flicking smugly. you could swear she was planning her next bit of chaos.

a/n: im actually happy abt this one so like?? yay??????? anws han jisung is bias wrecking me so hard so here you go also late late late LATE happy new years i hope you guys have a great year to come bye bye!!!!!!!! dividers credit to @strangergraphics <3

[sturnlsstuff]

FAMILIAR STRANGER | chapter four

what's gonna happen when you find out about your enemy's biggest secret?

ghostface!chris x enemy!reader

chapter three | chapter five

— warnings; smut with plot, dom!chris, sub!reader, oral (m!receiving), pet names, bratty reader, cursing, - english isn't my first language.

~~~

to say that you had your head in the clouds for the next two days would be a misunderstanding. you tried to focus on studying, but your thoughts always ended up around chris and what happened in your room. you couldn't believe you lost control like that. and that you didn't regret it.

keeping what happened a secret was harder than you thought. you couldn't deal with your own thoughts, needing advice, but not being able to tell anyone about what had happened. emma would freak out and you'd never hear the end of this, nick and matt... well, they're chris's brothers after all. so you were on your own in this matter.

besides, everyone thought you and chris hated each other. because that's how it was after all... right? hate with a little... physical attraction that had grown over the years.

that's it, nothing more.

you were putting books in your locker after finishing all your classes for today, the college hallways almost empty. so lost in thought, you didn't even notice someone sneaking up behind you and leaning against the locker next to you, until you closed yours, seeing chris with this stupid smirk of his.

you jumped in place, clutching at your chest, "oh my god, chris! do you want me to have a heart attack?!"

"wouldn't mind," he replies, quickly checking you out, so you did the same.

he wasn't wearing anything special, his favorite camo pants, a black long-sleeved shirt, a few curls sticking out from under his backwards cap. still, he looked disgustingly handsome.

both of you return to eye contact at the same time, chris clears his throat, "so... you have somethin' that belongs to me."

"really?"

"yes, really," he crosses his arms over his chest. then adds in a lower tone, "my mask."

"oh... right," you remember. "but, uh, it's at my place..."

"good. let's go get it," he pushes himself off the lockers, ready to go get his thing with you. to your apartment. alone. you couldn't get alone with him, and let, who knows what, happen again. you had to regain control.

you stop him by wrapping your fingers around his wrist, both of you feeling the same electricity course through your body at the sudden touch. "i can bring it to you before class tomorrow," you offer, he stares at your hand around his wrist, which makes you let go off him.

chris scoffs, moving his eyes back up to yours, "you wanna bring it here?"

"i'll be careful..."

"nah," he interrupts, shaking his head. "not riskin' it like that. let's go do it now."

"no."

"why not?"

"just no."

"but why, huh?" he repeats, taking a step closer. his eyes glistening, "you scared to be alone with me now?"

"what? that's... that's ridiculous."

"is it?" he runs his tongue across his teeth. "'cos i think s'true. you don' wanna get alone in a room with me again."

his words were like a punch in the gut, because it was true. the thought of being alone with chris in a room again was terrifying. not knowing, if you would be able to control yourself or if something would happen between you two again, was freaking you out.

"i'm not scared of anything," you say, adjusting the bag on your shoulder and crossing your arms. "it's just not the best idea."

"you weren't sayin' that while moanin' my name."

your eyes widen, "you promised not to bring this up—"

"i didn't promise you shit," he smirks, tilting his head to the side. "in fact, i think i won't ever shut up 'bout this... is kinda hard to forget, y'know—"

"chris," you mutter warningly, feeling your cheeks starting to heat up, but it didn't stop him.

"--the sounds you were makin', or how you'd taste... like, so sweet and..."

"chris!" you slap his arm, causing a chuckle to escape his lips. "this isn't funny."

"kinda is," he keeps grinning, clearly proud of himself. "relax a lil' bit, hm?"

"stop talking about that," you point your finger at him, but he just shakes his head with a smirk.

"nah, i think i'll keep talkin'..."

you raise your eyebrow, "yeah? wanna keep talking? let's talk about how you came in your pants."

the smirk fades slightly from his face, his eyes narrowing as he stares dangerously at you. "s'not fair, that was not my fault... stop lookin' all proud of y'self, kid."

"then who's fault was that? definitely not mine, i didn't even touch you."

"a'ight, but you were sittin' on my fuckin' face, yeah? it was enough," he rolls his eyes, looking around uncomfortably, but there was no one in the hallway except the two of you. "whatever. i don' have to go to your place... but m'not lettin' you bring it here either, so?"

you think for a moment, also trying to ignore his intense gaze. "i'm seeing matt and emma later, so i could give it to him behind her back somehow."

he scans your face, the wheels clearly turning in his head, until he finally nods, "fine. let's do it your way."

with that, without another word, chris walks away, adjusting the hat on his head. you let out a breath, not even knowing you were holding any.

—

later that day, chris was rolling a joint at his desk when he heard a knock on the door, soon seeing nick and matt walking inside.

he spent almost an hour with them, talking about bullshit, when nick finally went to the bathroom, giving matt a chance to take the ghostface mask out of his backpack and give it to chris, who immediately stuffed it under his clothes in the closet.

matt, who chris had told a few days ago, that you know about his little secret, looked at his brother intensely, "and why was this at her place?"

chris's body tensed but played it off with a smirk, "just wanted to check if she's gonna keep her mouth shut."

"and what did you do?" matt questioned, causing chris to roll his eyes.

"you always assume the worst from me..." his grin widens. "didn't have to do anythin' 'cos she won't say shit. i made sure of that."

"how?"

"not your business," chris leans back in his chair.

"chris..." matt gives him a stare, "she's my friend, that should be enough f'you to trust her."

"i don' trust her," he admits bluntly. "but i do know she's gonna keep quiet. that's the most important f'me."

"i know she will, 'cause no matter what you think of her, she's not a two-faced bitch. and she cares 'bout us."

"she cares 'bout you and nick," chris corrects. "but s'fine with me as long as she keeps her mouth shut."

matt sighs in annoyance, knowing he won't be able to change his brother's mind anyway. chris runs his tongue across his teeth, leaning his head back, "did she, uh... she said anythin'?" his tone too casual. "when she gave you my mask back."

"oh, yeah," matt nods, a little smile playing on his lips. "she said that next time you leave somethin' at her place, she's throwing it to the trash."

"actually?" chris raises his eyebrows amused, then scoffs, trying to hide it. "she's, like, insane."

"who's insane?" nick asks, walking back to the room and flopping on the bed next to matt, who quickly communicated nonverbally with chris.

"y/n," matt admits, chris giving his brother a warning glare.

"oh, what did she do now?" nick asks with a small smile, looking at chris. "i heard you annoyed her bad, recently."

he raises his eyebrow, "me?"

"yeah, you, moron, who else?" nick rolls his eyes, getting more comfortable on the mattress. "you pissed her off so much, she accidentally called me by your name when she was mad."

chris nearly chokes on air, "what?!" nick nods, finding the situation funny, while chris felt like he was dreaming. you never, ever, confused the triplets, even at the beginning after just meeting them, you had always been able to tell them apart and never confused their names before. "how?!"

"i gave her my drink and she said 'thanks, chris'," nick shrugs his shoulders, unaware that this was a big deal. though matt was looking at his brothers, listening carefully, and slowly connecting the dots.

you finding out about chris being a ghostface killer, him 'taking care' of it, then leaving his mask at your place and now you calling nick 'chris'? something was definitely up. matt just didn't really know what it was yet.

"so?" nick waits impatiently, "what'd you do?"

chris asks instead, "when was that?"

"i don't know, like, two days ago?"

two days ago, when chris would climb through your window, to ask if you said anything to nick, because he's been acting weird. and you said no. chris now knew it was a lie, you literally got their names mixed up.

chris had a million different thoughts at that moment. how did it happen that you confused his brother' name, who was your bestfriend, with his name? was it because you were thinking about chris so much, or were you actually annoyed and it slipped out of emotion? to be fair, he's been pissing you off a lot, so he wouldn't be surprised if you accidentally called someone his name, when you were angry. though it never happened before, and it happened a week after the first kiss, so maybe you felt as strongly about it as he did? and did you also think a lot about what happened in your room two days ago or not really?

it's not like he cared, but his mind wouldn't shut up.

chris eventually comes back to reality, realizing his brother's are staring at him, waiting for some kind of explanation. clearing his throat, he simply says, "yeah, i pissed her off a little. nothing new, y'know. can't even blame her for mistakin' our names."

it was enough for them to change the topic, though chris's mind swirled only around you for the rest of the evening.

—

days passing and chris was losing his shit, at night not being able to stop thinking about how it felt to have you sitting on his face, or the fact that it made him cum in his pants, something no girl had ever managed to do to him before. he was glad that you're unaware of that fact, your ego was definitely high already.

it was finally friday, meaning a themed birthday party at the frat. everyone was excited, the house was decorated and ready, but chris was pissed off, walking into his room and slamming the door behind him. he went downstairs for two minutes, just to find out that some of his stupid frat brothers decided to dress up as ghostfaces to show the killer that they aren't afraid of him, honoring jake's memory in that way. chris was annoyed that they were so stupid. but he couldn't do much, so he kept quiet.

it was like that for the rest of the evening, chris tried to ignore his friends' stupidity, focusing on getting drunk and laid quickly. he was just standing in front of the house with a few guys and some blonde girl glued to his side, smoking joints, totally engrossed in the conversation until he saw you and nick arriving. his breath catches in his throat when he sees your costume. a mini jeans skirt, black crop top revealing a lot of your stomach and cleavage, a short, white puffed jacket and sexy red tights. as you walked closer, making eye contact with him, he could notice your lipstick slightly smeared, some fake blood added to your makeup, neck and cleavage. you were dressed up as fucking jennifer check, and you looked hot as fuck.

you both felt yourselves tensing up in the brief moment you looked at each other, electricity running through your bodies. chris felt like he was in a trance until you walked inside the house, breaking eye contact. that's when he returned to earth. he'd still be aware where he was, surrounded by a group of his friends, the girl next to him clearly trying to get his attention, but his mind was on you and how bad he wanted to rip your clothes off you. which was insane when he realized his own thoughts.

meanwhile, you half heard what nick was saying, being on another planet due to that non-verbal interaction with chris. however, it feels like losing all of your senses, when you see a ghostface in the hallway right in front of you, with a red cup in his hand. and then another one next to the other. and a few more entering the main room of the house.

"what the fuck?" nick's voice blurry as you both look around in confusion, his concerned eyes finally meeting yours. he didn't want you to get triggered or anything. your ex boyfriend got killed by a ghostface after all.

though that wasn't the reason why you froze. all these 'ghostface' guys looked strangely familiar. they immediately reminded you of chris and what happened between the two of you, since you found out about his secret. and how were you supposed to have fun at this party now?

"bunch of idiots," you snap out of your thoughts, looking at matt dressed as batman, who appeared out of nowhere, giving you the familiar glance. he also didn't like that a few random guys dressed up as something that chris was keeping a secret. "let's go get a drink, emma is waitin' for you both in the kitchen."

so you quickly find yourself there, taking shots with your friends, who were being all careful with you, but nick and emma for different reasons than matt. he was just as irritated by these people's stupidity as you were. you wondered what chris thought about it and why he didn't do anything.

after a while, chris walks into the kitchen, wordlessly joining all four of you and taking a shot. nick and emma were busy talking about something, matt immediately whispered something in chris's ear and got a nod in response. both you and chris, couldn't break the eye contact once again, which started to irritate you.

you finally spoke, loud enough to be heard through the blasting music, "no costume is a little boring."

chris smirked, looking down at his all black outfit and back at you, "i prefer minimalist."

"could've go as a ghostface," you say bluntly, leaning against the kitchen island right next to him and crossing your arms. matt was observing both of you nervously.

something in chris's eyes flicker dangerously as he takes a sip of his beer that you didn't even notice he had in his hand. "bet you'd love to see me in that," he leans in, making sure only you hear the next word. "again."

him referring to how turned on you were after seeing him in a mask makes your blood boil. you hated that he knew it had some effect on you. chris didn't know exactly how bad it was yet, but he was ready to find out. soon.

"no, i'm good, thanks," your tone drips with sarcasm as you push him away. a low chuckle escaping his lips as he shakes his head in disbelief, "if you say so, princess."

"where's your chick at?" you ask casually. a frown appears between his eyebrows, "who?"

"this blonde girl i saw outside with you and other guys?"

the realization makes him smirk, "oh, her? i dunno...not like she's important anyway..." he tilts his head to the side, lowering his voice enough for only you to hear. "what, you jealous?"

the eye roll you give him, only makes his grin widen. "please, be serious for once in your life."

"y/n, another one?!" nick's loud voice reaches your ears, interrupting your interaction with chris, so you turn around, just as nick passes a shot to you from the other side of the kitchen island. you smile, taking the glass, "thanks, nick!"

in one second you feel chris behind you, his breath tickling your ear, "no mixin' up our names this time?" his words make your hand freeze halfway to your mouth, your heart speeding up, but before you could even somehow explain or defend yourself, chris leaves the kitchen. you could swear he had the biggest smirk on his face.

you blink slowly, fingers tightening around the glass, feeling embarrassed that chris found out about this. you were sure it was nick who told him, obviously. you wanted to hit your head against the wall, but know you couldn't make a big deal out of it, since it was... nothing. just an accident. mixing up their names has happened to many people, maybe never to you, but there always had to be this first time.

it didn't mean anything. right?

the conflicted feelings, the embarrassment and the inability to forget how good chris made you feel a few days ago, or the fact that you thought about it every day, every night, all the fucking time, craving more, it all was making you pour alcohol into your system like water. you knew this 'more' between you and chris could never happen. like ever. at least it wasn't supposed to.

it all came down to the fact that you were sitting on some guy's lap, who was dressed as a ghostface. the two of you just talking, flirting heavily, your hand running up and down his arm, his on your waist. you didn't really know what you were doing, you just had to convince yourself that it was only the mask that turned you on and not chris in particular.

however, it was not working. you knew the boy who was under the mask, he was from your math class, quite nice, helped with your assignment once a while ago. but he wasn't turning you on at all. his ghostface mask made you feel no emotion other than annoyance. even letting him touch you a little didn't cause any tension in you, and no shiver passed through your body like it did when chris was the one touching you.

you tell the guy that you're going to the bathroom and will be back soon, he just nods, so you quickly get off his lap. though instead of the bathroom, you go to the kitchen, immediately taking two shots. you needed to get absolutely drunk if you were going to stay with this guy for the rest of the night, and you had to do it until you finally feel what you felt with chris. there was no way he was the only one who made you feel so many things at once, and you had to prove it to yourself.

chris, who couldn't focus on anything or find anyone who would be a good one to take to his room, was watching you all night. every move you made, he saw, even if you didn't necessarily know about it. when he noticed you with this guy, he was so pissed off, not understanding what you were doing. did you want him? not like chris gave a shit, but how dared you resist him, but want this stupid guy? that's what it looked like and it felt like his ego got punched. so he did something stupid and put on his ghostface mask, blending in with the other few guys with the same costume.

you feel large hands on your hips from behind as you take another shot, looking over your shoulder, you're able to only see the mask, assuming it's the guy you were with just moments ago. he grabs your hand and starts to lead you out of the kitchen, then upstairs. you raise your eyebrows, pushing through people, not thinking that this guy would follow you to the kitchen or that he'd immediately take you to his room. you didn't even know what to do, but that's what you wanted after all, to see if someone else could replace chris's name, which had been stuck in your head for over a week, with their own.

he locks the door behind once you two are in his bedroom. a bit of mess on the desk, empty cans and some joint butts. he stands behind you again, the heat of his body makes you shiver. it was so... strangely familiar.

"and why am i here?" you ask casually, looking around the unfamiliar room, as he comes from behind to stand in front of you and that's when you notice this big photo on the wall next to you. a photo of two people you recognize immediately.

chris and nate.

you knew nate, seeing him with the triplets a few times, he was their good friend. so it was chris's room which meant he was standing in front of you...? but he didn't have a mask before, which confused you, but you're quick to hide it, looking for more details. such as a bracelet on the wrist.

yeah, it was chris.

he obviously didn't answer, clearly not wanting you to recognize him, even if he wasn't trying hard enough. "so...?" you start, deciding to play this game and see if he's gonna finally tell you it's him. taking a step closer, you tilt your head to the side, running your long manicured nails down his chest, causing his heart race to quicken. "anything i can help you with?" your hand stops at his belt.

you were teasing on purpose, already knowing that chris was standing in front of you. playing along with this little game of his, you felt your blood boil at the thought that he was doing all this, probably thinking you're stupid or a slut, like everyone else were thinking, and that you'd fuck some random guy without seeing his face. and unless chris is a dick, he won't let you do what he thought you wanted to do, when you were sure he was someone else.

so you drop to your knees, grabbing his belt and looking at him through your long lashes with a smirk, while chris's head is spinning at the sight of you like that. even better than he'd imagine before.

not like he did... maybe a few times.

your hands were in the middle of undoing his belt when he grabs your wrist. his voice annoyed and aroused, "get the fuck up."

chris takes the mask off, throwing it aside and meeting with your stare. you're pissed off too, but you also don't feel like getting up so with a simple shake of your head, his pants are pulled down.

"what the fuck are you doin'?" his body tenses when he feels your delicate fingertips through his boxers. he was already half hard.

"how does it look like?"

"you high or what?" he questioned, shocked that you're not kicking his ass yet, when he clearly pretended to be someone else for a few minutes.

"no, just annoyed," you answer, stroking him through his underwear. a hiss escapes him, "you? annoyed?" his chest was rising and falling deeply, clearly trying to stay in control, but the sight of you on your knees in front of him in that costume of yours, had him mesmerized.

you nod, "mhm."

"you realize it's me here, right?"

"i'm not blind, idiot," you roll your eyes, his boxers joining his pants at his ankles. his hard cock splits out smacking his stomach, tip red and sensitive, already leaking with precum. he was big. noticing your wide eyes and how you just stare, chris can't help but smirk through his annoyance, "gonna do somethin' 'bout it or keep only lookin'?"

wrapping your fingers around his length, you start slowly stroking him, looking back up at his face. chris swallows, his breathing heavy as he brushes your hair out of your face and gather them into a messy ponytail in the back of your head.

"you're fuckin' annoyin'," his voice hoarse with arousal. "being all over some random guy' lap, when he's clearly tryin' to be me. like, all them idiots tonight..." chris's breath hitches in his throat, when you give him a small, kitty lick. he tries to keep his composure, "why'd ya want some fake ghostface, when you could've a real one? not lettin' me fuck you, but if he wanted to, you'd say yes, huh?"

you shake your head again, sucking on his tip, your hand working the rest of him. his grip on your hair tightens, as he tries not to start face fucking you, which was getting already hard.

"no?" he clicks his tongue against his teeth, "but droppin' to your knees, not even being sure who was under the mask, says somethin' different."

you pull away for a moment to speak, "i knew it's you, moron... the picture..." you look at the wall, making him realize. so you knew and decided to do it anyway? this makes his dick twitch in your grip, just as you take him to your mouth again, tongue swirling around his tip, before you go deeper.

"shitttt, keep goin'..." chris groans, not being able to hold it back, which causes you to take more of him, fighting your gag reflex. "pissin' me off all night, kid, in that skirt of yours..."

you pull away, gasping for air, saliva dripping down your chin. he forces your head to tilt back, eyes meeting his again, "look at you, chokin' on my dick, lookin' all pretty..."

"and why didn't you just say it's you, not him?" maintaining eye contact, you take all of him into your mouth again, breathing through your nose.

another groan escapes him at the feeling of his tip hitting the back of your throat, "wanted to see— fuckkk, if you, uh... would jus' go with him to the room..."

his hips jerks forward, causing you to gag again, but not pulling away, "take it, c'mon, princess... yeaaah, that's it... take all of me..."

few tears runs down your cheeks as he starts thrusting into your mouth, the grip on your hair almost painful, stealing a moan from you, which sends vibrations through chris. the sounds of you choking on him and his groans echoing through the room, his head throwed back as he uses your mouth how he pleases. and you let him.

"fuck, takin' me like a champ..." he praises, looking down at you again, not being able to resist the sight of you like this. mascara smeared due to tears coming down your face, saliva dripping from the corner of your lips. it was perfect for him. "such a good girl..." his hips stutter a bit as he gets closer to the edge, "and you gonna let me come on your fuckin' tongue, yeah?"

you moan in approval, as he gives a few more thrusts and pull his dick out of your mouth, wrapping his hand around it and starting jerking off fast, while you wait with your tongue sticking out. "shittttt..." that look on you, makes his cock twitch and with a loud moan of your name, he releases on your tongue. warm drops of cum spills onto it, dripping down your chin as well. "f-fuck, you look... so hot like that—"

his hand eventually comes to a stop, the grip on your hair completely loosens as chris watches you swallow everything, then also licking your lips. it made his mind go blank.

picking yourself up from the floor, he notices his seed on your chin and swipes it away with his thumb, tracing it over your lower lip and popping it into your mouth as you lick it clean. then he removes his finger, his cheeks flushed and breathing heavy.

"so, answering your questions," you speak up. "no, i would not let this guy fuck me and no, i would not suck anyone off unless i knew who they were."

chris smirks, "so you did know and decided to do it anyway, huh?"

"yeah, 'cause you pissed me off with this whole game," you roll your eyes. then add, "by the way, you taste fucking delicious."

"oh, could've tell by the way you sucked my dick like a lollipop," he retorts, tilting his head to the side.

and making you blush. again.

"you look incredibly sexy tonight," his voice gets lower, more suggestive as he eyes you up and down. "annoyin' the hell outta me, but wouldn't mind to rip your clothes off, like, right now."

"yeah?" you raise your eyebrow, trying to keep holding your ground even with awfully red cheeks, and desperately wet pussy.

the next sentence you say, almost makes chris fully hard again.

"what if i let you this time?"

a/n: not me laughing bc i know y'all gonna be HELLAAAA mad at me for ending the chapter here LMFAO i'm evil 😪

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo @certified-sturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore

[arouravis]

✳︎ 𝟶𝟷: 𝙰𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢 𝚁𝚊𝚗𝚝

✳︎ 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜!

𝙼𝚊𝚓𝚘𝚛 𝙻𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜:

I don't think people understand how much of a burden it feels to have these placements. People with these placements are expected to act a certain way 24/7 and cannot complain about it. Always having to keep the peace in order for the day to keep going. Not allowed to express their feelings because if they do, it's somehow incorrect and they shouldn't feel those things. Constantly having to act put together, poised, and elegant. It's absolutely tiring.

𝙶𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗:

Do you feel as if you're constantly the butt of the joke and no matter what you say or feel will ever be taken seriously? Do you feel that whatever movement/mannerism you do is being watched and joked about? Do you have to be the jester in someone's life? As if you're only there as a source of entertainment and nothing more? Do you feel guilty for expressing your own emotions? Do you feel like you can only think of your emotions instead of actually expressing them? Like there's a hold on your heart needing to be set free, but your brain is in the way? Do you feel as if you're always helping someone out and listening to them, but when it's time for them to return the favor, you get nothing in return? Do you feel like the only way people will listen is if you joke about your emotions and make an ass out of yourself? Are you a martyr? Look no further, you just might be a Gemini moon!

𝚅𝚒𝚛𝚐𝚘 𝙹𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛:

These people don't know how spoiled and privileged they truly are. They sit and complain and nag about people eating and dressing in ways they cannot control. But they fail to realize that some people do not have it as good as they do! Being overly picky and judgmental can only do you so much service before it starts to become annoying to the other people around you.

𝙰𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚢:

Truly the most emotional, whiny, yet bitchy people I've ever been in contact with. And the crazy thing is, when you return that energy, they get defensive! Make it make some fucking sense!! They walk around and act as if they are some badass and can say whatever they please until there's someone who has a slight disagreement with them. Or not even that, a person can just ask a simple question and they will get all bitchy and defensive. Whole time, it's because they don't fucking listen and immediately jump the gun to thinking that the person is saying something to spite or embarrass them. Grow the hell up, genuinely.

𝚂𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚞𝚜 𝙼𝚘𝚘𝚗:

Usually, I know when a Sag placement is being sarcastic. But with them it's too fucking much. It genuinely infuriates my soul how sarcastic, and how much of a smartass they try to be. Like please, just speak how you're supposed to. All these rhymes, riddles, and soliloquies aren't getting anyone anywhere!

𝙻𝚎𝚘 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜:

Why are you guys so blissfully ignorant? And you truly do not care for the people around you? It really upsets me because at the same time, you guys are also the opposite. It's like you only care when it's on your own terms, but when it's time for you to actively take on the role… crickets. Sometimes all a person wants is for you to listen to them and take their words into consideration (y'know, just like how you expect everyone else to do for you automatically) and you do not give a shit to do so!!! I fear they only care if it revolves around them getting something out of the interaction. I want to like Leo placements so bad, but y'all make it too hard.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Ruggie Bucchi - Room Relaxation Vignette

"Happy Birthday"

[Exterior Hallway 2F]

Ruggie: Oh hey, Floyd-kun! Perfect timing. I've been lookin' for ya.

Floyd: Hm? You need me for something, Sharksucker-chan?

Ruggie: Remember how I told ya the other day that my birthday's tomorrow?

Floyd: Mmmm… Now that'cha mention it, kinda sounds familiar, but I'd completely forgotten 'bout that.

Ruggie: I thought so. I'm glad I came to remind you, then.

Ruggie: Sooooo I'M COUNTIN' ON YA TO GIVE ME A PRESENT TOMORROW!!

Floyd: Your birthday's got nothin' to do with me, though?

Ruggie: IT DEFINITELY DOES! I DID SO MANY OF YOUR CHORES FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY!!

Ruggie: Although, I bet you forgot that, too… ANYWAY, SERIOUSLY, DON'T FORGET MY PRESENT!!

Floyd: Ahah, you're really wantin' one, huh.

[Classroom]

Ruggie: Might've been a bust to try'n get somethin' outta Floyd-kun. But who knows, he might come in clutch.

Ruggie: I gotta find a buncha other people to remind, I guess～ Hm? What's that bag of candy that guy's holdin' over there…?

Ruggie: Hey, you, that snack looks pretty tasty. Can ya give me one?

[Diasomnia student speaks]

Ruggie: Ehhhh～ Then, what about the sticker on the bag? Oh, I can have that? Thanks!

Ruggie: Nice, that went well. The sticker's the thing I wanted from the start, anyway.

Ruggie: If I scan the code on this sticker with my phone, I could win a prize worth 30,000 Madol [300 Thaumarks] in their giveaway!!

Ruggie: Then, if I win something, that's a profit at no cost. I'll hafta thank that guy if that happens… in spirit, that is!

Ruggie: Next is… That guy that's about to leave the classroom with his wallet out!

Ruggie: Hey, y'know, tomorrow's my birthday～! I hope you'll be givin' me a gift in return for the one I gave you.

Ruggie: But anyway, putting that aside, you're up next in history class, right? You got everything prepped already?

[Scarabia student speaks]

Ruggie: Not yet, but you're wantin' to head to the Mystery Shop first? Oh hey, then I can go shopping for ya, then. Not sayin' I'm payin', though.

Ruggie: You want the new soda that just dropped, and a cheese-flavored snack? You're good with whatever I pick for that? Okay, gotcha.

Ruggie: He gave me 500 Madol [5 Thaumarks] for that… This should be enough plus a little tip for me, sheeheehee!

[Savanaclaw Dorm – Walkway]

Ruggie: Did some shoppin', helped with some chores, cleaned up the clubroom… Sheeheehee, I made a bit of spare change today, too.

Ruggie: Guess that's enough workin' for now. I'll go hop in the shower now.

Ruggie: Who'd've ever thunk there'd come a time where I'd get to shower every day like it's nothin'～

Ruggie: There's no way I'd've ever been able to splash around in the shower like this back home.

Ruggie: I love living in a dorm at school! Can't believe there's guys complainin' about there not bein' a bathtub, or havin' to share a shower room.

Ruggie: Whew, that was refreshing. I've toweled off good enough, and my hair'll be fine like this.

Ruggie: Oookay, it's study time. I ain't got the time to be failing my classes!!

[Savanaclaw Dorm – Ruggie's Room]

Ruggie: Ancient Incantations homework starts on this page of the textbook, huh. Uhhhhh… Yup, I don't get it at all.

Ruggie: What's even the point of learnin' 'bout these dead languages, anyway? Can't really get excited to learn 'bout somethin' I can't find a use for.

Ruggie: Hey, you're pretty good at ancient incantations, right? Can you translate this sentence from the textbook for me?

Ruggie: Of course, I'm not askin' for it for free! I'll help you with your Animal Linguistics assignment in return.

[Roommate speaks]

Ruggie: …All right, deal! Wheew, it's nice havin' a roommate I can count on.

Ruggie: Man, why do uppity schools hand out so much stuff to do? There's no way one person could do all this homework and classwork review all on their own…

Ruggie: …Right, ancient incantations is doneee!! I should hurry and get my other assignments outta the way too.

Ruggie: Whew, finally, I'm done～ That's seriously waaay too much work, man.

Ruggie: Now, then… Guess I'll get this done too, while I'm still at my desk.

「Survey on Quality of Life Improvements for the Student Body」

Ruggie: I'd be more thrilled to fill it out if they'd give us some money or a prize for answering it～

Ruggie: Not like we'd even know if or when they'd do anything. I'll just quickly throw somethin' together.

Ruggie: I only have one thing I want. "GIVE ME TIME TO WORK SOME GIGS!!"

Ruggie: There's waaay too much homework, and most of the classes are hard to get through without reviewing and prepping for the next class…

Ruggie: Plus, joinin' a club's mandatory, so we got practice or matches on weekends which cuts into what little time I got to try to find a job!!

Ruggie: It's not hard findin' temp jobs, but this basically means that I can't really make money unless it's a long break.

Ruggie: …Oh, you're heading to bed? Yeah, I'm pretty much done with this survey, so I'm gonna sleep too. ''Kay then, night～

Ruggie: Sheeheehee, I can hear his soft sleep breathing. Alright… Now it's my "fun" time.

Ruggie: I'll pull the cover all the way around me, then turn on my phone light…

[flips through banknotes]

Ruggie: Sheeheehee! Ever since I came to Night Raven College, my savings've been slowly goin' up.

Ruggie: I got a ton of coins now too, so I should go deposit these soon. It's scary just having cash lay around unprotected.

Ruggie: Even if I can't really find part-time gigs, thanks to living in the dorm, I don't gotta spend stuff on food or other small things here and there!

Ruggie: Plus, there's times people'll split stuff with me, or give me things they don't need anymore. There's so many ways to build up more cash.

Ruggie: I should be able to pick up another job over the next break, too. What if my savings hits another digit…!!

Ruggie: Haaaaah～ …I get such a good feelin' when I can just gaze at my bankbook like this. I gotta keep on workin' hard tomorrow, too.

Ruggie: Ah, I should sleep soon. I should do my usual thing.

Ruggie: Y'never know what can happen on campus at any time. Gotta stash my bankbook and wallet under my pillow and wrap it all with a towel…

Ruggie: After that, pull the cover allll the way over my head and I'm ready to conk out! Now I can sleep soundly.

[Savanaclaw Dorm – Ruggie's Room]

[alarm rings]

Ruggie: Yaaaaawn～～～

Ruggie: Yay, it's morning! First things first, gotta wash my face and get ready!!

Ruggie: I need ta quickly finish all the stuff I gotta get done, then go gather up all my birthday gifts. I ain't got time to dawdle!

[Savanaclaw Dorm – Washroom]

Ruggie: …Ooh, hey! Someone left behind some face soap. Mine now.

Ruggie: Wheeew～ that was a nice find. I gotta thank whichever dummy left that in a shared room!

[splash, splash…!]

Ruggie: That's washing done. Usually I just use water, so it feels super refreshing to use soap once in a while.

Ruggie: After wipin' all the water off with a towel, next I gotta moisturize. Just gotta spread this wildebeest brand oil on my hands…

Ruggie: Then I gotta rub it all over my face, rub it into my ears, and comb it through my hair with my fingers… Nice, all done.

Ruggie: Man, this oil is the best! I can use the just one thing on my skin, hair, hands, and even my ears.

Ruggie: Honestly, I find all this upkeep a pain, but it's cheaper in the long run to take care of myself now, instead of waiting until somethin' happens and I gotta go to the hospital or somethin'.

Ruggie: For 300 Madol, one bottle of this stuff can be used anywhere on my body, the effectiveness-to-price ratio is way in my favor. I wanna use these guys forever.

Ruggie: All right then… It's my birthday, so I guess I'll throw on a bit of makeup. I'll just consider it an investment to help get more lively responses from all the well-wishers.

Ruggie: I'll use some of the free sunscreen samples first… And as for eyeshadow, I think I'll use some of my special stuff.

Ruggie: Ta-da, the super high brand-name stuff that Leona-san gave me! Or, more like, the stuff I got to keep after I dropped it on the floor and all the powder went everywhere.

Ruggie: I couldn't sell it anywhere, since it looked like this, so I guess all I can do is use it myself.

Ruggie: Mm, but I'm starting to see the bottom of the container 'cause I've been using it too much… No, wait, I can still get some up if I rub my finger in the corner like this…!

Ruggie: Just gotta rub it neatly on my eyelid without wasting a speck… Ooh, lookin' good. All that's left is…

Ruggie: Oh yeah, I can use the eyeliner that I got from a classmate for my birthday last year.

Ruggie: Couldn't sell this either, 'cause it was an old version, or something like that. I should use it before it goes bad, I guess.

Ruggie: Nice, now I'm ready to get goin'! Now I just gotta go wake up Leona-san, and maybe I can wring somethin' outta him while I'm at it!

[Main Street]

Floyd: Hey, Sharksucker-chan. Happy Birthday～ I brought you a present.

Ruggie: You did!? Awesome, Floyd-kun! I knew I could count on ya to come in clutch.

Floyd: I just suddenly felt like clearing out all the stuff in my room I didn't need anymore, sooo～

Floyd: Here ya go, I'll give you this fashion magazine. It's way old now, so there ain't really a point to readin' it anymore.

Ruggie: An old magazine, huh. Eh, I guess it's better than getting noth… Hm? WAIT, THIS ISSUE…!!

Ruggie: FLOYD-KUN…! THANK YOU! THIS IS THE BEST!!!

Floyd: You're that happy to get trash as a gift, huh. Don't really get it, but good for you.

Ruggie: I guess you didn't know what this magazine is really worth.

Ruggie: It's been the talk of the town how this issue's got some photos of an idol that's been super hot right now from a photoshoot before their debut!

Ruggie: If I sell this, I should get at least 10,000 Madol! [100 Thaumarks] Or, maybe more…!? Sheeheehee, this is a dream come true!

Ruggie: I gotta get it out there 'fore their popularity wanes. Plus, I gotta go 'round and get more birthday stuff from everyone else, too…

Ruggie: Wheeew～ Today's lookin' out to be a busy one. THIS IS AN AWESOME START TO THE DAY!!

Requested by Anonymous.

[lost-romantique]

Blitzø's Maturity in Sinsmas

One of my favorite parts about Sinsmas, aside from everything, has to be the amount of maturity Blitzø displays in Sinsmas, or specifically in his conversation with Stolas.

This conversation really goes to show how one of Blitzø's best features is his ability to always say the right thing, when he knows the people in his life truly need it.

He did it with Moxxie and Millie:

"Look, I'm hard on you, because I know what you're capable of, Mox. You care too much about what everyone thinks except for... me, because, y'know, my opinion is correct, but just... keep doing a good job. 'Kay? You shoot 'n kill good, you escape things easy... you can be strategic and cold-blooded when you need to, aaaand don't expect any more compliments; I'm maxed out."

"Millie, I have spent too much of my time, energy, and holes into setting this up for us to entertain your bullshit. I brought you into this company for a reason, okay? You're tougher, smarter, and frankly more capable than anyone I've ever met in any ring..."

"Mind if I steal?" "Today was a lot wasn't it?"

Blitzø starts the conversation with an ice-breaker to lighten the mood because he can tell Stolas is on edge right now.

"I-I- I know you can't see your kid. And I know you did so fucking much just to save my life-"

There are three things I want to point out:

Blitzø makes it very clear that he knows what Stolas just lost, he knows he can't see his daughter.

Blitzø also states that he understands the huge sacrifice Stolas had to make in order to save his life.

Blitzø knows that what happened is a serious situation, he knows how much Stolas loves his daughter, and he doesn't downplay that loss.

"It's okay. Saving you was the right thing to do. And you have risked your life for mine in return. You don't need to feel any guilt for my situation, it was my choice. It was all my choice. I caused all of this."

"She'll understand eventually. You just gotta give her time."

Stolas is mourning the loss of his daughter, and is reflecting on the times he's failed her as her father. And I love how Blitzø states that the simple fact that what Octavia needs right now is time to process things, the same way Stolas needs time to process things as well. And I love how Blitzø says that, "...she'll understand eventually," because it's true. Octavia will understand, eventually.

I think one important thing to note is the fact that Blitzø also doesn't undermine Stolas' statement: "It was my choice. It was all my choice."

Because it's true, Stolas did make a choice...

Stolas chose to give Blitzø the book, thus starting their transactional arrangement.

Stolas chose to give up his own life to save Blitzø from execution.

Stolas chose love, and that is not a bad thing.

"Blitzø, she's gone. For one hundred years, she's gone. And after all that time, she'll never forgive me. I'll be a stranger to her."

"Y'know, my twin sister... She hates me too. For something that I did. And I miss her, every day. We were so fucking close, y'know, we- It's a shitty feeling. But, you just gotta keep trying."

Blitzø, right now, is willingly being vulnerable with Stolas and I think that's beautiful. He encourages Stolas to keep trying to reach out to Octavia, to not give up all hope just yet.

And I love how Blitzø decided to talk about Barbie, and not Fizz, and the reason is simple...

Blitzø can't guarantee a happy ending between Stolas and his daughter, he can't promise any of that. Blitzø states that Octavia will understand him, but he can't promise that Octavia will forgive him.

If Blitzø were to share the fact that he recently rekindled his friendship with Fizz, than that might be giving Stolas a false sense of hope.

And Stolas, right now, doesn't need a success story, he doesn't need, "Hey, I was able to fix my relationship, so you can too". What Stolas needs right now is reassurance that he's not alone, that there is someone out there that understands his pain.

"Sounds likes, uh... they want me back in there..."

"Go enjoy your Sinsmas, Blitzø. I'm fine, you don't have to stay here with me... What are you doing?"

"Well, I can't fucking dance with you without- come here, getting inventive."

I love the Full Moon parallel of Blitzø choosing to stay with Stolas instead of going back to the party. Blitzø knows Stolas is not fine at all.

And while Blitzø can't magically make all things better, Blitzø can at least give Stolas a moment of happiness, a chance to momentarily forget all the pain he just went through, a chance to be with him and him alone.

[vonlycaonwife]

would you be willing to do headcanons for how the guys (billy, wise, lycaon, ben) would treat the reader on a first date?

You mentioned the guys so I added Anton to the list! Can’t leave out the bro! Enjoy!

Warnings: guns mentioned (Billy)

I feel a first date with him is more casual, though Belle would’ve insisted on something more romantic. She would probably suggest at least a coffee date or dinner, while Wise more so planned a movie night.

Either way he sticks with his plan, since you had already agreed. Though he did make a compromise with his sister in letting her help pick the movies. Which ended up with a list of both documentaries and cheesy romance films.

It gets really awkward if any of the romance movies have more…intimate scenes. The both of you trying to skip over the scene and not make things even more awkward.

But other than that, it's a really fun date! He's really informative over the topics in the documentaries you watch, giving extra info and whatnot.

You two would end up falling asleep cuddling on his couch in his room, giving Belle the perfect opportunity to take a photo. She definitely plans to use it later to embarrass you both.

There’s several places I can think of a first date spot Billy would pick.

One of them being an arcade, mainly so he would be able to both beat you at the games. But also so he could look cool by winning the prizes for you, though the success rate of that is very hit or miss. Just never try to challenge him to a shooter game, you’re in for a world of ego pain.

Another place I can see is actually a shooting range, though that’s only if you’re cool with guns. It’s definitely another way for him to try and look cool by getting perfect scores (because of course it would turn into a game). But another bonus would be him showing you how to shoot a gun right with minimal recoil.

But one more place I feel he would take you is just a simple coffee date, though I can see this being more so suggested by the girls of Cunning Hares than something he thinks up of himself. It wouldn’t be a bad date! Though it may be a bit awkward when he can’t really eat or drink due to his face mask.

All in all no matter the setting you are gonna have tons of fun with this silly boy.

Ben gives me such casual vibes that I can’t really imagine anything but a simple coffee date as a first date.

He would be very sweet the whole time though, asks you about any allergies you may have just in case, pays for the both of you without even thinking about it, even leading the conversation if you’re shy or unsure.

The two of you would just be having a nice talk the whole time, unaware of how long it’s been since the start. Though after realizing the two of you still continue the dae by just walking around and taking in the sites of the city and the people walking by.

The only reason the date would end would be because either he got a call about a work emergency, for which he apologizes profusely over and promises to make up for it, or when you two finally notice how late it’s gotten. He definitely walks you back home, no questions asked.

It just would be so nice and calming, definitely evident of how being with him would be in my mind.

Now I don’t have a good read on Anton, but hear me out. Gym date.

I can see him thinking about this on the spot to be honest, though he’s not mad if it isn’t up your alley.

Other than that I can see him mainly just doing a simple dinner date, nothing too fancy but not it being just a random bar y'know? He would pay without asking because I can see him thinking of that being what the “man” is supposed to do. But he wouldn’t be pushy if you asked to split.

I feel like most of the energy we see would not be there since he would definitely be nervous about making a good impression. But once he relaxes it’s all back and a great conversation partner!

He would also walk you back home, and when he’s returned to his own place I can imagine him screaming while fistbumping the air in celebration of a good first date.

Oh boy, if you ever want a fancy first date this man already has the reservations set.

He’s showing up in a nice outfit, not the one he wears for work, with a sweet bouquet of your favorite flowers. And would lead you to the car he’s using for the night.

Now I don’t believe he would do like the fanciest restaurant, though he most likely could afford it, but it would definitely be high end enough for you to be dressed up enough. Plus he would have picked a place that was suited to your tastes and had your favorite dishes and desserts.

He just would be so sweet and romantic, but it would also be very obvious that he’s nervous about making a good impression. It’s easy to tell by how he’s making sure you’re having a good time. And once you confirm that you are, you might be able to see his tail wagging behind his chair a bit.

After having your fill, he would drive you back and drop you off at your door. If you let him he would leave a small kiss on your forehead before leaving. His tail subtly moving in happiness behind him.

[oldwritingm]

Creepypasta/MH - How They Would Welcome You Back (after not seeing you for a while)

Characters: Nina the Killer, Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack, Tim/Masky, Jane the Killer

Nina

Shouts your name when she sees you, and BOLTS into you

She crashes against you, almost losing her balance from the sheer force

Her arms are flung around you, pinning your own arms to your sides with surprising strength

"Eek! Y/n! Aah... I missed you so much!"

She giggles as she finally lets you go, settling her hands on your shoulders while she looks at you with a huge smile

She compliments your appearance eagerly, and blushes when you do the same

She can't stop giggling throughout the whole process though

Literally nonstop... but she's just so happy!!

Normally she'd suggest a more exciting hangout, like stalking people at the mall or... y'know... putting the laughter in slaughter or smth legal activities

But this time she just wants to stay home and hold you :3

And maybe watch a movie with ice cream too!

Jeff

Pretends to be all nonchalant about it

"Oh, you're back. Hey."

Especially if others are around

But his eyes keep lingering on you, and though you're across the room it feels like he's looming over you

His presence is just so..... unsettling? Like, more than usual lol

Bro's just watching so closely

It'd make anyone nervous, but if you're dating Jeff you're definitely crazy enough not to be too disturbed

Because you know what's actually waiting for you when you're alone

Not murder, but:

He throws an arm around your shoulder and another under your knees, scooping you up wordlessly

Then it's cuddle time :]

He'll be doing something else while you cuddle, and he won't say anything, but if you try to move or get up he'll glare daggers at you

In his mind, you're making up for lost time together

Eyeless Jack

He'd have been waiting for your return

No matter how long he had to wait, he was always ready

Clean home (well, as clean as a cannibalistic demon's home can be), hot food ready, fluffy blankets on the bed...

So when you finally do come, he gets straight to the point

The point being spoiling you ofc

He loves taking care of you; that's his way of showing affection

So he's just excited to finally do that again!

He wouldn't have given you any physical affection when seeing you I think

The most he'd have done would've been to grab your hand to lead you along

"Y/n! I'm so glad to see you again... come on, everything's ready for you."

Tim/Masky

He's dumbfounded when he sees you again

Like, he just blinks at you

It's as if he never expected you to return :(

"Y/n..?"

Then he pulls you into a hug, finally processing the fact that you're there

The same smell of cigarettes and coffee fills your nose, and you breathe it in deeply

(He's lowkey doing the same with your smell)

The hug finishes with one more super-tight squeeze, then he pulls away to look at your face

"Hey."

He's so smooth guys <3

But on a real note, he's just so surprised to see you; he doesn't know how to react

Trust me though, he's never letting you go again

Jane

I think she'd have something planned too

So when she sees you again, she gets really excited

She tries to keep it somewhat cool though, greeting you warmly with a kiss on the cheek and a hug

But you can tell she's trying not to act excited... she's rocking on her heels way more than "usual" (never)

Finally she tells you to close your eyes, and you can really tell she's excited now

She puts something in your hands and kisses you on the mouth

When you open your eyes, you see a jewelry box in your hand

It's your favorite form of jewelry (ring, necklace, bracelet, anklet, etc) in your favorite gemstone/color!!

She loves seeing you wear the things she gets you, especially when she puts so much thought into them

Just like she did this time ;3

Bit of a different style from the other one, but here we go!! Thank you so much for reading, take care my duckies! <3

(divider by saradika)

[writingthroughmyass]

Service Animal (Part one)

My mans Logan Howlett X Reader (afab)

Part two here

WARNING: This is soooo self insert it's not even funny. I get weird migraines that present like absent seizures and thought it would be nice to get a warning beforehand by my favourite babygirl Logan (like my own personal service animal). This is gonna be in three parts, it's mostly finished and ends in smooshing so be ready for that ;)

UPDATE: turns out my migraines are actually mini strokes :)

The after effects of using your power was kicking your ass.

In a daze, you made it to your private room and went straight to your bathroom. You felt the nausea rising up in your throat and quickly opened the toilet lid to throw up. 

The multiple alternate realities of what could have happened tonight flashed before your eyes. Ororo, Jean, Scott, Logan, all collapsed on the floor, dead. Their screams played in a relentless loop in your head; you were dissociating badly. Your surroundings melted away until there was nothing but the countless ways they could have died if you hadn't bent reality to avoid it. 

Always. It's always like this. 

Gradually, you begin to return to your body, only to realise there was someone in the room with you, holding your hair back. 

Terrified, your body snapped up from its kneeling position to face the intruder. 

“Woah, hey, it's just me. Calm down.”

“L-Logan?” you slurred, suddenly feeling self conscious of the smell of your breath. 

“I knocked and called out but you didn't answer. So I came in to check on you.” 

You eyed him, feeling suspicious of how out of character this was for him. 

“Why are you looking at me like I'm lying? I'm not totally heartless,” he said defensively.

“Why'd you come in the first place to see me though? I thought you were pissed with me,” you grumble.

When you'd overdone it with your powers, Logan threw a hissy fit and yelled at you for going too far. While you knew it was out of care, it still rankled you that he was acting as if you were a child. You knew what you were doing. 

“I… just had a bad feeling,” he said quietly. “Y'know how I've got my heightened senses. I could tell something was off with you.”

“I'm fine. Just need to rest. This is normal for me.”

You turned around to the bathroom sink and grabbed your toothbrush. You gave your teeth and tongue a quick clean, wanting to just wash all the blood off your body so you could sleep. 

It felt like you had a raging hangover from drinking Everclear all night. 

When you turned from the sink you noticed Logan was still there. 

“Uh… need something? I wanna get ready for bed and pass out.”

“Yeah, I need to know you're okay,” he says.

“I told you, I'm fine. I'm going to shower so please leave.” 

Your patience was wearing thin. But you were also aware that some of it was nervousness coming out as aggression. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, although his attitude left much to be desired. His behaviour tonight was quite frankly really sweet and it was psyching you out. You were already in the midst of losing touch with reality and his actions were so contradictory to his usual self that it was causing you a psychotic break. 

“You're not listening to me,” he ground out, losing some of his own patience. “I'm telling you that something is wrong with you.” 

You stared silently at him, mouth slightly hanging open. 

“Okay, that came out the wrong way.” He was ruffling his hair in agitation. Cute. “What I'm saying is- I'm… ah…”

“Please, Logan, I just want a shower so I can go to bed…”

“Look, I'll just wait in your room and I'll leave once you're in bed safe, ‘kay,” he says, turning to the door and walking out, shutting it behind himself. 

Fuck. 

You just wanted to be alone so you could have a good cry. You were incredibly confused about what in the world was going on but now you were really getting scared. And Logan's words were not helping. 

What if he's right and this time your connection with reality has been completely severed? But what else were you supposed to do? Let them all die? Even with your special training with Charles, your power was so unruly and chaotic that it was terrifying. You had to be careful or there would be no way back. 

You got undressed and turned on the shower, stepping inside. It was only once you were under the hot stream of water that you realised you'd left your pyjamas in your bedroom. You groaned aloud. Fuck, now you'd have to walk in front of Logan in nothing but a towel. Why the fuck was he here? You wished he'd just leave. 

You watched the dried blood wash away from your skin, turning the floor of your shower a bright red. 

You felt your stomach drop and your head turned fuzzy. The sound of your shower disappeared. The safety of your surroundings melted away. 

Scott, his eyes gouged out from his head. Ororo’s limbs crumpled every which way, her eyes clouded over not because of her powers but because she was lifeless. Jean, her neck holding on to her body by a thread, her cranium blasted open and her brain dripping down her face. 

Logan, on the ground, ripped to shreds, his Adamantium bones showing through his torn flesh. And the wounds weren't healing. 

It was always like this. As if you were being punished for playing god. It was as if all the horrible realities you prevented from happening still lived on but solely in your mind, driving you insane. It left scars of trauma on your psyche, Charles had told you. So you had to be careful in how you used your powers or you may become completely untethered from reality. A fate worse than death. 

Vaguely, you could hear yourself mumbling and gasping and swallowing loudly, trying to find some kind of equilibrium in the mess of your mind. 

You were trying desperately to connect back with your body but at the same time you didn't want to because it only meant having to fight this same battle over and over again. 

Seeing your friends die before your very eyes in hundreds of thousands of different ways, experiencing each traumatic story to its conclusion. Only to have it all unravel into a reality where none of it happened, but the whiplash makes you doubt this reality too. It's always too good to be true. You feel it in your bones that you don't deserve this. That the way you twist reality is wrong and one day it'll catch up to you in the worst possible way. 

You feel water running down your face and remember that you're in the shower. You try to ground yourself and come back to your body. You hear the water splashing, feel the ground beneath your feet, the solid embrace around you. 

You try to move but you can't. Finally, you snap fully to your body. Your mind is groggy, feeling like you'd been hit by a truck. But there's the unmistakable warmth surrounding you, dense and as unyielding as brick. 

Your face is roughly yanked upwards and you open your eyes.

“Fuck, finally! Are you alright?” 

You stare blearily, mouth open and dry from the adrenaline that had been pumping through your body just moments ago.

Bright hazel eyes. Huh. So pretty. You'd never noticed. 

You realise you're not supporting your own weight. You're finally aware that Logan has you in an embrace, holding your body up, one hand around your waist and the other on your jaw as he looks into your face. The water on your face isn't from the shower, you realise. It's your tears. 

“Bloody hell, please say something,” he says angrily. You feel some of your own anger flare up in response. What's his problem? 

“Fuck,” you croak. 

You feel his chest vibrate against yours as he laughs, suddenly aware that you're as naked as the day you were born and this man is fully clothed standing in your shower, getting his white singlet wet. Giving you a bear hug…

Your brain short circuits as you try to come up with words, feeling your whole body heat with embarrassment. 

“W-what are you doing in here?” you manage to slur.

“Helping your ass,” he says roughly. “Can you stand?”

Fuck, good question. Can I stand??

“C-close your eyes first,” you demand. 

“Bit late to be feeling shy now don't you think?” he teases with a wink. 

“Just close ‘em!” you yell at him. 

He laughs before complying. 

You extricate yourself from his arms, turning off the shower, then navigate carefully around him to exit the cubicle. You grab a towel and cover yourself, making a mental note to grab a clean one later since this one was definitely dirty now. 

“Okay, open your eyes and get out, please.”

He turns to look at you.

“Don't think that's a good idea, bub.”

“And why is that?” you huff impatiently.

“What if you collapse in the shower again?” he says matter of factly.

“I've been having these things for a long time. I've managed to survive so far so don't stress about it.”

“It's different now though, isn't it? You've been having these for a long time, you said so yourself, and they're only getting worse instead of better.”

You sigh heavily in frustration. You hated that he was right. 

“So what exactly are you suggesting?” 

Your heart was beating like crazy. He better not suggest what you think he was going to suggest.

“I'm sure old Chuckie boy wouldn't mind lending you his shower chair for the night,” he smirked. 

You laughed out loud despite the tension in the room. He always managed to make you laugh. 

“Yeah, I'm just going to wake up an old man in the middle of the night to ask if I can borrow his shower chair,” you joked, lightly slapping him on the shoulder. 

He laughed along with you then you both shared a few moments of comfortable silence. Only for him to break it with-

“My other suggestion is to shower with me so I can make sure you don't faint and hurt yourself.”

You stared at him distrustfully.

“Hey, look, I'm not being a pervert, it's just the only solution I can think of on the fly,” he placates, hands raised as if to say I'm innocent and unarmed. 

“Right…”

You stopped to think for a second, your muddled mind trying to make sense of the situation. 

It made you especially uncomfortable that you didn't exactly have your full mental faculties about you. 

But Logan was a good friend. You'd fought beside him many times before and you saw that you could trust him. But… he was still a man. A man much bigger and stronger than you. 

“Can I trust you?” you asked falteringly. What a stupid idea to ask the opinion of someone fully in power over you. 

“I promise I won't do anything without you wanting it. This is entirely your choice.” 

You looked him in the eyes, trying to find a trace of falsehood in them. But you only saw honeyed eyes, dripping with conviction. The same conviction you'd seen many times before when he was protecting those he loved. 

You felt yourself feel a little calmer. 

“Okay… but you better not break your promise. Or I'll sick Charles and his shower chair on you.” 

“I won't. I just want to keep you safe,” he said in a low, serious voice. 

You felt a fluttering behind your ribs. Fuck… I'm about to shower with this incredibly attractive asshole.

“Okay… you get in first,” you said. 

“Yes, ma'am,” he said a little too cheerily. 

You turned around to give him privacy to undress. You heard the rustle of his clothes then a thump as he dropped them on the floor of your bathroom. 

Should've known he'd be a slob…

You heard the shower turn on and you braced yourself for what was to come next. 

You turned towards the shower, keeping your head down and eyes averted. You removed your towel and stepped into the shower, still not looking at Logan and ignoring his presence, which was hard to do in your little shower. Thankfully he was turned away respectfully.

You stood behind him, turned away from his body. You took your soap and began to lather it over yourself as you usually did when you showered. 

“Would you like a hand with your back?” Logan spoke up. 

You paused as you weighed up the question in your mind. 

“Sure,” you said quietly, trying to keep yourself calm. 

This is totally normal. We're just friends having a shower. Together. 

You turned your back and heard him applying soap to his hands. Slowly, gently, as if you were made of glass, he began to rub your back, starting with your shoulders. You felt yourself give an involuntary shiver.

“Are you cold? Do you need the water a bit hotter?” he asked you. 

“No, it's fine. The temperature is okay with you?” 

“Yeah, bub, just perfect.” 

His hands felt massive against your back. He massaged your neck for a few seconds before moving down your shoulder blades towards your middle back. 

“Did-did you want me to do your back too?” you asked, trying to hide how nervous you were. 

“Since you're offering, sure,” he said gruffly. You turned towards him at the same moment he turned away from you, unfortunately catching a glimpse of his insane fucking abs, but thankfully managing not to make eye contact. 

You soaped up your hands and began with his neck, trying not to notice how thick and muscular his traps were. 

God… this is hell but also heaven. 

You ran your hands across his ridiculously broad shoulders and down his middle back, avoiding going too low lest you caress his stupid, tight ass. 

“I'm going to wash my hair, okay?” you told him, unsure of why you were asking permission. 

“Don't know why you're asking my permission.” Fuck. You were being weird. “But I can do the same right?” he responded, holding in laughter. 

You felt your face go hot.

“D-do what you want,” you said petulantly. 

You took the shampoo bottle, squeezing what you needed for yourself before handing it to him over his shoulder, which he thankfully kept turned to you in respect. 

You both washed your hair in silence. You already felt a bit better. You dreamily thought of your bed as you rinsed the shampoo from your hair. 

You then grabbed the conditioner and squeezed some into your hand. 

“Need the conditioner?” you asked Logan.

“What for?” he asked, confused. 

“For your hair, duh.”

“Nah, I'm good. Haven't had to use it so far in my life, won't start now. Need a hand with washing your hair?” 

You knew he was trying to be helpful. But it felt so, so wrong. Like overstepping your relationship as friends. But then again… would you ever get the chance again to have an incredibly sexy man wash your hair for you? 

“Sure,” you said stiffly.

Silence, then his hand moved around you to grab the bottle from you. 

“Ah-” you already had some conditioner in your hand. You were about to tell him but decided to keep quiet as he worked on your hair. 

His fingers… so thick and strong yet gentle through your hair, over your scalp. You couldn't help but to close your eyes and enjoy the sensation. 

It was over too soon and he stepped away from you again. You tipped your head to rinse your hair, giving your face a quick scrub with water while you were at it; fuck your skin routine, you were going straight to bed. 

“I'm going to step out first,” you informed him. 

He grunted in reply and you stepped from the shower, grabbing two clean towels from your bathroom cupboard. You covered yourself with one and half turned your body to Logan, gaze still averted from his direction. 

“Here ya go,” you tried to say cheerily, offering the towel to him.  

“Thanks,” he said and grabbed it from your hand. You quickly moved to the door. 

“Wait until I say you can come in,” you said before closing the door behind you. 

Fuuuuucccckkkkk.

This was not helping you to relax at all.

You dried yourself quickly and threw your pyjamas on. 

“I'm done!” you called through the door. 

He stepped out with his towel wrapped around his stupid, slutty waist. You could see his happy trail adorning his abs. His enormous pecs, his dog tags resting in the dip of his gorgeous chest. 

“Hey, bub, my eyes are up here,” he teases. 

You swallow thickly and glare at his stupid, smirking face.

“Have I ever told you I hate you?” you retort, only succeeding in making him laugh. 

“How are you feeling now?” he says softly, suddenly serious. 

“I'm… exhausted. I usually sleep a lot after an episode.” 

He nods in understanding. 

“You'll be okay if I leave?”

This gives you pause. If you were being honest to yourself, you'd say, “Please stay. I don't want to be alone tonight.” 

But you weren't honest with yourself. 

“Thanks for looking out for me, Logan. I really appreciate it and sorry for putting you out. I'll be okay. You can go to bed now if you want.” 

He looked at you in silence. He stepped towards you, so close that you had to look up to keep eye contact. You could feel the warmth radiating from him. Fuck he runs hot. 

“You mean it, right? You're okay to be alone?” 

You stared at him, a little bit dumbfounded. Was he able to read minds or something? 

“Yes, I'll be fine. I'll be in bed so I can't exactly fall,” you chuckled. 

He didn't laugh with you. Only watched you carefully. 

“Okay. I'll respect what you say you want,” he says carefully. 

Again, this is so out of character for him that you second guess yourself whether you're in reality or not. 

You watch as he turns to the bathroom and grabs his clothes from the floor then goes towards the door to the hall. 

“Hey-w-wait-y-you're not going out like that are you?” you stutter in disbelief.

He turns back to you. 

“What else am I going to do?” he asks incredulously. 

Clueless.

“Put your clothes back on,” you retort.

“Ew, you're a bit of a slob, aren't you? They're dirty and covered with blood and who knows what or who else.”

You deadpanned. 

“What if… what if you stayed here for the night?” you blurted out without thinking. You flinch at your own words.

Logan pauses with his hand on the door knob. 

“I don't exactly have my pyjamas here with me,” he says slowly. 

“I've already seen and touched you naked. What's the difference?” you hear yourself say.

What the fuck am I saying?

“I-I mean, surely I have something that can fit you,” you amend quickly. His face seems to go slack in surprise.

“Wow. You really want it, huh?” he smirks at you. 

You ignore the heat that overtakes your whole body. 

“N-never mind! Fuck off already,” you say sourly. 

“Hey, I'm just joking,” he laughs. “I can definitely stay if it helps you feel better.” He smiles at you and you feel yourself melt a little bit. 

“It… it would. Help me feel better, I mean.” 

Having him near you would help remind you that this is real, you justify. 

“Alright then,” he nods to you. “Some clothes would be great.” 

“Ah, sure, give me a second.” 

You quickly go to your wardrobe to locate the loosest pair of pants you own. He'll just have to sleep shirtless, there's no way you have a top that will fit over his broad shoulders. 

You find a dark grey pair of trackies and turn back to him. 

“Try these.”

“Thanks,” he says as he takes it from your hand.

As he moves back to the bathroom you jump into bed to wait. Your bed never felt so fucking good. 

You've barely settled under the covers when Logan reappears from the bathroom, his hair still wet and dripping down his neck. You do your best not to stare. 

He moves towards you and lifts the covers to slip into bed with you. 

This is just a sleepover, you tell yourself. Like when you have a friend over for the night.

Logan slots himself into your bed alongside you and you become suddenly aware of how small your double bed is. The frame creaks loudly from the weight of him and his Adamantium bones. 

“Comfy?” you ask.

He turns in the bed so he's facing you. A smile slowly makes its way to his face and you find you can't breathe for a second. 

“Yeah, definitely,” he murmurs. 

“Alright, sweet, g’night then,” you say quickly, turning away from him to still your beating heart. Fuck, I hope he can't hear my heart right now.

“Are you sure you're ready to sleep? Your heart is beating pretty fast,” he points out cooly. 

Mother fucker.

“So… you have heightened senses right? Kind of.. like a dog?” I'm not thinking straight, why am I trying to piss him off? 

“Thought you were going to sleep,” he grunted. The sound of his gravelly voice did something to you. But you ignored it. 

“It just kind of reminds me of those service dogs, y'know the ones that can sense when their owner is going to have a seizure? I mean, I know I don't have seizures exactly, but I guess it presents sort of like one.”

“What are you trying to say?” he asks gruffly. He doesn't like it when people compare him to dogs. You're just grateful you can't see the look on his face right now. 

“I'm just wondering how you can tell? What is it exactly that you're sensing? It's always interested me,” you say honestly. 

He grunts again and goes quiet before answering.

“I can smell it. Can't even explain what it actually smells like. But that's how I know, although it isn't always accurate.”

“That's really interesting.” And you mean it. It really is interesting… although the implications concerning his sense of smell have you a little bit paranoid… 

“So that's why I'm telling you to listen to me when I fucking tell you to stop with your powers. You could've killed yourself tonight,” he grinds out, anger in his voice. 

“Logan… you need to understand where I'm coming from. You all died tonight. Like literally, right before my very eyes, you were all dead. What do you expect me to do?” 

You feel tears pricking your eyes, the lump in your throat is choking you.

“I… I can't talk about this right now okay?” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Okay… okay, I'm sorry,” his voice softens. “Please, just get some sleep, okay? Guide dog’s orders.”

And just like that you're laughing again, feeling a tear running down your cheek to your pillow. You were so grateful to have him in your life. You were also grateful he couldn't see you crying right now. 

“Alright, g'night, puppy,” you tease.

“‘Night,” he says softly. 

A minute passes and you can already feel yourself starting to drift off. You smile to yourself, knowing that you have your own personal “service animal” to keep you safe tonight.