#he sneaks into the theatre just in time for the play to start

[softquietsteadylove]

Red and Green

Gil is glowering. He's been glowering almost since they arrived. He's happy to help, of course. Jack is in the winter play, and since Sersi is also teaching at his school, they've all come to help out with last minute decorating and such. He's baked five sheet pans worth of goodies for the bake sale taking place before and after the play.

Thena is on stage, helping Jack and a few other kids with putting fake snow everywhere. She's not exactly taking part but she's good at keeping them from throwing it on each other or anywhere unnecessary.

That's not the problem. The teacher talking to her is the problem.

Gil doesn't know who he is. Ben says he thinks he's the gym teacher or something. Seems a little young--aren't gym teachers always old dudes who don't actually play sports? This guy is their age, visibly handsome, even from a distance.

"You're a natural with them," the tall, blonde stranger insists.

Thena shakes her head, "I couldn't disagree more. I am here for Jack and no one else. The little hellions can fend for themselves."

She says, and then still decisively stops two boys close to the stairs from seeing what the fake snow tastes like.

"Well, I think you're a natural." Who does this guy think he is? He was moving some larger stuff around with Ikaris all afternoon. Apparently until Thena caught his eye and lured him away.

Gil rolls his eyes as Mister Blondie pulls off the fleece he's been wearing. His t-shirt gets pulled up a little with it, just enough for the stage lighting to really emphasize the full, washboard eight pack of abs he's got.

Phastos clears his throat loudly in Ben's ear. "Ahe-hem, Mister Stoss."

"Habibi, please," Ben attempts to lean away from his husband. "It is not a sin to have eyes, my love."

Gil sneers to himself. Thena has eyes. And while she wasn't openly admiring like Ben had - no matter how briefly - he knows she's seen them. He just...knows it.

"Gil?" Ikaris walks over to him, tugging at his own t-shirt now that boxes are moved or sets are arranged, or whatever they've been doing. "Wanna give us a hand?"

"Who is that guy?" Gil points blatantly at the man still chatting Thena up while she's trying to keep an eye on Jack and his friends.

Ikaris looks and shrugs. "Teacher."

Gil shakes his head at him. If Ikaris weren't both Thena's brother and Sersi's husband, sometimes he really wonders how they would have become friends. "Thanks, helpful--I meant how did he and Thena get to talking. She doesn't usually talk...with people."

It's not his most subtle tactic. But Ikaris doesn't seem to pick up on his greenish aura. "I heard him ask her a little about what she used to play. Guess they're talkin' about college sports?"

Gil's discomfort only increases, though. Thena did play sports when they were younger. He didn't. And he knows that she misses how she used to play soccer in high school and even in the first year of college.

His eyes are glued to them as Thena smiles and even laughs faintly as she talks to Whats-His-Face.

"What?" Ikaris asks him outright (no tact at all).

Gil huffs, deciding he's done just watching things unfold. "I don't think you'd like it if he was chatting up your wife."

Ikaris makes a face. "I guess not. But he's not. And Thena's not your wife."

Gil doesn't have a defense to that. He storms off so Ikaris can't announce to all the auditorium volunteers how flushed he is. Instead, he hurries up the little stairs onto the stage. "Uh, hey."

Thena stops dead in her conversation to smile at him, "hey."

He has to give it to him, if Mister Golden is bothered at all by the interruption, he doesn't let it show. "Hey, thanks again for helping out. The school doesn't have much to offer for things like these. Volunteering really goes a long way for the kids."

Gil tries not to scoff at Mister Perfect's magnanimous speech. He offers a stiff smile and hovers closer to Thena. "Yeah--I need Thena's help with the bake sale stuff, if you'll excuse us."

Thena lets him grasp her hand and all but pull her away. She only lingers enough to point over her shoulder, "Jack is in charge."

The other kids whine, but he's still riding the high of having all his 'cool' aunts and uncles help.

"Oh," Mister Friendly laughs faintly with a bright smile (and perfect teeth). "Well, it's already snowing out. You should stay warm inside."

Gil bristles as Mister Flirtatious' hand comes dangerously close to touching Thena's shoulder. He pulls her closer to him.

"I can give you a hand," he offers.

Gil is now borderline tugging Thena with him. "Thanks, but I need to, uh, ask her opinion on some things."

He wants to get right in the guy's face and tell him that of course he knows it's already snowing. He's not going to let Thena get cold! He rushes off the stage with her and makes sure to grab her coat off the back of one of the chairs. Maybe it's a bit obvious, but he loudly shakes it out and holds it up for her to slide her arms into the sleeves.

Mister Sunshine just smiles and waves before going back to watching the kids.

Gil sniffs. "He's friendly."

"Quite." It doesn't tell him what he wants it to. Usually Thena isn't warm to people just coming up and talking to her.

"What were you guys talking about?" he asks, realizing it's too late for him to be asking in a fake-casual way. He shoves his hands in his pockets as they walk out of the auditorium and head outside.

"He introduced himself as the physical education teacher," she states factually, which at least isn't the smitten fondness he was dreading hearing from her after their interaction. "He told me Jack is doing exceedingly well in his activities."

Of course that was his in; Thena is a sucker for talking about Jack, in any way, shape or form.

"Phastos is insistent Jack learn American football, but my practices with him have been paying off," she states with her nose all the way in the air with pride.

Gil laughs. Thena is determined to get Jack so hooked on it that he calls it football instead of the American 'soccer'. "It is a little less physical than football."

They get outside and Gil shoves his hands deeper in his pockets. Maybe it was dumb for him to get Thena's coat for her and not go looking for his own.

"Gil, aren't you cold?" she asks outright.

"It's okay, I just need a hand with a few of the trays," he excuses with a smile, unlocking his car from where they stand.

"What did you need my opinion on?"

Oh, right, the blatant and bold faced lie he told in order to soothe his own jealousy. What was he thinking? Ikaris was right, Thena isn't his wife--she's not even his girlfriend. But that never really bothered him so much as when he saw Mister Model up there chatting her up...showing off his abs to her.

"Gil?"

"Uh, well," he hesitates to get out as they step out from the school doors' cover and into the light evening snow. "I guess...do you think what I made will sell well?"

It's lame--it's super lame, and embarrassing. It's a bit late, isn't it? He's made a full dozen of five different desserts. Wouldn't he have asked this before he got so far into the process? And she and Jack were there when he baked them at Ben and Phastos'!

"Of course they will," she answers honestly, though. He likes the blunt and earnest realism on her more than Ikaris. "Your baking is always amazing. I'm sure the school will make back the cost of the play and then some."

"If they make the 'then some' I think I should get to keep the profit," he mutters. Thena laughs at his joke, but butter is expensive, and he's made three dozen different shortbreads! "Here."

He hands Thena a tray of the frosted cookies, which have to be separate from the rest to keep their design integrity pristine. He carries the other three trays himself and closes his trunk.

"It's nice that Jack is excited about it."

Gil smiles, some of his earlier agitation melting away. Thena, for all her insistence that she didn't like anything to do with children, lives for Jack. She loves coming to his school events, helping with parent stuff. He knows she's lied at her job so she can attend every single soccer game he has, even when they're at 4 in the afternoon on a tuesday.

"I didn't expect him to be so happy to have all of us here."

"Well sure," Gil chuckles, breathing a little easier now that it's just them. "Jack thinks you're the coolest aunt in the world. He's bragging to his friends right now about how you were a pro soccer player and know how to use swords."

Thena rolls her eyes modestly. "I keep telling him it's an amateur fencing class."

Calling it amateur is a disservice; Gil has witnessed a little of it giving her a ride once, and she dominates in it.

"I hope he never gets tired of having us around for things like this," she admits to him quietly, maybe even sheepishly. "Even when he's a teenager."

Gil smiles even wider, because Thena is just so sweet and loving under her calm and placid exterior. "I'm sure he won't. At least not you--maybe Uncle Ikaris."

Thena laughs, and it shows off her teeth in a cute way.

Gil shifts his load to open the door for her. He really didn't need help with anything, but he doesn't need to confront what it means that he was so desperate to get her out here with him just yet.

"There you two are, people are starting to arrive!"

"Sorry, just had to keep 'em nice and cold y'know," Gil murmurs as Sersi rushes forward to take Thena's tray for her. He sighs but Ikaris has some decency and extends his hands. Gil lets him take the top tray from him. "Are you sure I'm supposed to have this much real estate?"

Sersi waves a hand. "I've run this bake sale the last three years. I am not exaggerating when I tell you two parents at most will actually bring enough. Everyone else just brings a store bought cookie platter and lets it suffice. They don't sell well and they just take it home with them after the play."

"Gil will put them all to shame."

He blushes at the confidence Thena has in him. "If it's to help the kids put this play on again next year, then fine."

Ben has his phone out, snapping pictures. "They're gonna knock people's socks off, Gil."

"Thanks guys," he sighs as he unwraps his trays upon trays.

"They certainly look great!"

Gil's blood pressure spikes again. He turns and someone has let the golden retriever with a whistle around his neck out of the auditorium. "Thanks."

"Jack's been bragging about how his uncle is the best cook on the planet. I hope I can snag one for myself before the play!"

He's just being friendly, but Gil can feel his veins tightening under his skin with every word out of this guy's mouth. He looks at Ben, who's all excited and bouncing with his phone up. "What?"

Ben points.

Gil looks up, as does Thena. There's a pretty half-assed sprig of mistletoe hanging from the decorative archway put up over the table. He looks around; none of the other ones have this. He's ready to tell Ben to stop messing around. But then the presence of Mister Smiley and the memory of him flirting with Thena resurfaces in Gil's mind.

Thena's eyes go wide but she doesn't move as he pulls her closer. He slides his hand up her cheek, letting his palm angle and hide where their faces make contact, and not too briefly. Her eyes flutter closed.

Everyone's jaws drop (except Ben's).

Gil pulls away. He's kissed her close enough to her mouth that it will look the part, but not actually on her lips. But far away from her cheek that it can't be misconstrued from her view. He smiles as her eyes open again and she blinks at him.

He's never seen Thena blush before.

"You know I wouldn't kiss you without asking," he whispers before pulling himself away from her. "But, uh, come find me after the play is done?"

"H-Hm," she squeaks out, taking a few stiff steps away, her heels clicking like a fawn's hooves as it learns to walk.

Gil goes back to setting up his bake sale spread, some renewed vigour swirling in his chest. He peeks up from the table. Mister Perky seems to have gotten the hint and has started directing parents with trays to take the other (smaller) tables. Gil is satisfied.

Ben loudly snaps a picture, practically giggling. "Habibti, you're as red as the tinsel."

"Stop it! And delete that!"

Gil chuckles to himself as Thena rushes back into the auditorium and away from the commotion he's just caused. He does hope she comes find him after, and not just because he's her ride home.

Ikaris gives him a strange look but Sersi rushes him inside too. She leans back into Gil's view to give him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He blushes, but if Sersi thinks it was the right move then maybe he's onto something.

Gil takes a seat, ready to start selling. He has to admit that maybe he owes it to Mister Chatty to save him a brownie or something. But only if he gets to kiss Thena again later.

[spenceragnewfics]

I had such a fire like thought of a fic where F!reader Y/N is like an actress maybe in a musical or play and spencer is tech

Like an actress x techie kinda thing could be set in college AU?

Could be a cute relationship? Like could be a thing where Spencer is oblivious to how Y/N is hitting on him? Cause like Y/N is popular for doing college theatre and he’s basically an unknown techie

LIGHTS, CAMERA… IS SHE FLIRTING? | Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

Summary: You're the golden girl of your college theatre department. Spencer is the head of tech with the golden touch of being able to fix anything. He can't be that oblivious that you like him...right?

Word Count: 753

You’ve been the lead in every major production since freshman year.

Not in a theater diva way. In a wow, she really has it way. Professors praise you, underclassmen ask for audition tips, and your name is always on the callboard. You’ve played Juliet, Eliza, Eurydice, Roxie Hart. And now? You’re starring as the golden girl in your college’s spring musical.

Spencer knows this. He’s run lights for every single one of your performances.

What you know is that Spencer is the quiet tech kid who always wears a hoodie, even during load-ins. He’s got curly hair, soft eyes, paint on his jeans, and a near-telepathic ability to fix any tech issue mid-show without causing panic. You’ve seen him carry full flats of set pieces by himself, call cues with surgical precision, and somehow stay completely out of the cast party drama.

He’s charming. In a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kind of way. The kind that sneaks up on you.

You didn’t really talk to him until callbacks this semester. During rehearsal, you tripped over a prop platform, and he caught you by the waist like some kind of backstage superhero.

“Careful,” he mumbled, eyes wide. “That platform’s still loose.”

You blinked at him. “Right. Thanks, Spencer, right?”

He turned pink. “Yeah. It’s, uh… nothing.”

That’s when you noticed how his hands were calloused from building sets. The way he chewed on pen caps while scribbling notes in his tech binder. The way he ducked his head every time you said his name like it meant something.

So you decided: you were going to flirt.

You were going to flirt hard.

It started simple.

“Do you think this dress looks okay under the spotlight?” you asked one night at dress rehearsal, twirling in your stage gown. “Or do I need, like… a spotlight just for me?”

He stared at you, eyes caught somewhere between your waist and the lights above.

“You look—uh, I mean—the lighting looks fine. On you. Not that you’re fine—well, you are, but—I mean…”

You grinned as he flailed. Cute.

It became a game after that.

Bringing him coffee during tech week. Always making sure he was the one to check your mic pack. Hovering in the booth during downtime and leaning just a bit too close to see what he was working on.

He’d go beet red every time, but he never made a move. Not even when you wrote “To my favorite techie” on his crew appreciation gift. Not even when you started calling him handsome during mic checks. “Check 1, 2. Spencer is handsome. Check 3…”

He’d just clear his throat and mutter something about EQ levels, avoiding eye contact like it’d burn him.

It drove you insane.

The turning point came two days before opening night.

You were onstage rehearsing your final solo. It was a big, dramatic ballad, just you, a single spotlight, and a ton of raw emotion. You nailed it. Nailed the vibrato, the high note, the soft whisper at the end. The whole cast clapped. You bowed.

And then you looked up at the booth.

And Spencer was staring, really staring.

You met his gaze through the glass and smiled. A soft, hopeful kind of smile. The kind that says, Yes, I see you. Yes, it’s for you.

He ducked behind the console instantly, coward.

You were about to give up.

Until opening night.

Before the sold-out opening night, you walk into the dressing room and stop dead in your tracks. There’s a note taped to your mirror. Messy handwriting. Smudged marker. Folded once, neatly.

You open it with trembling fingers.

“You're gonna be incredible tonight. You always are. I didn’t think someone like you would ever notice someone like me. But I’d really like to get coffee after the show. Just us. —Spencer”

You grin so hard your lip gloss cracks.

That night, after bows, after flowers, after the crowd is gone and the theater is dark again, you find him in the wings, packing cables into a case.

He looks up, startled. “Hey. I was just…”

You kiss him.

You kiss him softly, firmly, with all the joy and relief you’ve been carrying for weeks. And when you pull away, you whisper. “I’ve been trying to get you to ask me out since February.”

He laughs, breathless. “I really… really didn’t think I had a chance.”

You bump your forehead against his. “Well, you do. Lights up on us, yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah. Lights up.”

[blog-of-agony-and-despair]

Eddie Munson not long after almost dying to the bats in the upside down in the hospital- you, his girlfriend, by his side. Worried sick.

Warnings: kissing, crying, mention of not eating much and not really showering. Themes of anxiety. Eddie is in the Hospital. Slight angst? You’re in love with him. Swearing. Relationship. He calls you babe and sweetheart. Eddie having scars from the attack but you don’t “see” them.

You and Eddie have been hooking up for months now. You kept it a secret from everyone- Steve, your brother, your friends, his friends- his DnD club his band- everyone. It slowly turned into something more and without you both even having to say anything you became eachovers. You started to cate much more about eachover and even go on “dates.” Which consisted of you sneaking into drive in theatres and going to lovers lake to have food and dance to nonexistent music. You fell for each-over. And you fell quickly.

But then he tried to see drugs to Chrissy Cunningham and she was killed by vecna. And from there he found out about your past with the upside down and he realised just how badass you were. He almost died saving you, playing his guitar just in time for you to get away, the bats attacked him and you have never ran back to danger so quickly- desperately climbing the trailer he was on, knife in hand, ready to kill.

He’s been in the hospital for 2 weeks now. And you haven’t eaten, showered or even spoken properly to anyone in days- you’ve been attached to the chair that sits next to his bed, only leaving when you have too..he still hasn’t worked up.

His hair is tyed back into a man-bun (done skillfully by yourself) and his hands are bare of his rings- most of them sit on the table next to you, one of them though is on your middle finger. You fiddle with it as you read the newspaper that the nurse dropped off for you. The only sound is the steady beat of the holter machine that shows his heartbeat is steady and his slow breathing.

You look like shit..is what Eddie would say right now..that stupid grin on his face..and you would do anything to hear it- to hear his voice and his laugh and to hear the steady strum of his guitar again-

“Hey sweetheart.” He mutters casually- as if nothing had happened as if he’s just woken up from a half and hour nap..

You look over quickly and your eyes widen and your lips part when you see he’s awake and reaching for some water on his side table. “Eddie-” Before he can get to the water, you throw the paper to the floor and practically jump on him, letting out a small sigh of relief when he lets out a small laugh mixed with a groan and he wraps his arms around you. “Owwwww- What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost…” Silence..“babe?” Then, sniffles. “Woahwoahwoahwoah- hey hey-” He pulls you out of his arms gently and looks at your slightly red eyes, flushed cheeks and tears going down your cheeks

“No!- I’ve been worried fucking sick, okay?! It’s been 2 weeks and you’ve barely moved!” You move so your sat on his (uncomfortable) hospital bed next to his hip. “I’ve been- been- crying and worrying and-” He cuts you off as he takes your hand in his.

“I know- I know, but don’t worry- I’m fine..okay? Yeah- a ‘lil chewed..” He snickers at his own joke. “But fine..I’m right here, babe..I love you, okay?” He says gently as he slowly leans up to kiss you, his thumb still moving across your knuckles to calm you down..

You take a deep breath and you slowly lean down and press you lips to his gently, your lips move against his slowly- you know he means it to show that he is okay. And here. And fine..he leans back after a couple of moments- wincing slightly as his back meets the pillow. “I’m still hot though, right?” He (only half jokingly) asks in a quiet whisper, lifting his hospital gown go to show his bandaged stomach and chest- where he was attacked and scratched and bit..even some parts of his face was still cut and bruised- he scrunches his nose up slightly and quickly puts the gown back down and looks back up to look at you- slight worry in his face. “And you’re still into me? Not here out of pity-”

You let out a small laugh- mixed with a sob. “Hot as ever, Ed’s.” You take his ring off your finger and you put it on his. “Hot as ever.” You repeat in a slightly more serious tone, knowing he’s either gonna love or hate the scars that now litter his body..and will do forever. “And I’m totally still into you..wouldn’t be here otherwise…you almost died for me. You’re a fucking idiot- but now, you’re my idiot. And you will be forever. No escaping me now.”

His cheeks redden slightly when you put his ring on his finger before he grins up at you..“I’m basically like your- knight in shining armour..came to your rescue with my mighty sword!..or- guitar..same thing.”

He smiles as you laugh once again, god he loves your laugh..“Yeah, my hero.” You say sarcastically but you mean it genuinely..he really is your hero.

He then looks your body up and down for the first time in weeks. “You look like shit by the way.” He obviously jokes and moves his other hand to tuck some, rather messy, hair behind your ear.

You can’t help the louder laugh that escapes your mouth- your head falling down to his shoulder and you enjoy the familiar feeling of his chest moving as he laughs with you.

“You’re not exactly a super model yourself right now, babe.” You joke back, your hands moving to his shoulders as you put your head on the side of his neck, your body gently against his.

the sound of the nurses shoes clicking on the floor as she walks towards you both- saying something about his heart rate and evaluation, but neither of you listen, you lie there holding each over as you cry and laugh and Eddie laughs and winces in slightly pain to himself with every rise and fall of his chest against yours.

[venusentranced]

˖˙⟡ jake as a sub . . .

‧₊˚ ┊the enhypen as subs series begins, today's discussion: jake ⟢ warnings: general bdsm and kink discussion, domestic & sexual bdsm themes but nothing blatantly explicit, bladder control is the only real warning needed i think so if you're uncomfortable with the thought of that don't read this one

♡ puppy play... jake loves to be told what to do, he strives for positive reinforcement and rewards. have him fetch you a drink, sit at your feet, or even lay in a dog bed; there's nothing this puppy won't do. he loves leashes, commands, and the delightfully degrading experience of being a house pet for you. this dynamic is all the time for him, jake can't be left to his own devices, he needs your guidance! when it comes to having a puppy like jake that means putting up with his forgetful nature and constant need for attention. honestly, he'd stop talking and start barking if you told him to.

♡ oral fixation... bone shaped toys, fingers, a piece of candy, doesn't matter to jake! his mouth needs to be kept busy. he's a drooly little thing, one may even say that his tongue has a mind of its own because he will randomly start licking you and he will not know why. when he's too much with the lapping, you can put his mouth to work between your thighs, kill two birds with one stone.

♡ bladder control... jake thrives under your control, he loves to be told what he can and can't do, a clear distinction between right and wrong. one thing he really enjoys is being told "yes" which means asking explicit permission to do almost anything; in the comfort of your home (and occasionally on outings with just the two of you) he likes to be told when he can and can't use the restroom.

♡ high maintenance, high stamina... as before mentioned, jake needs a lot of attention, he's very obedient and will do almost anything you say but if he feels like you're not giving him enough attention he will begin to act out. jake is needy, this boy has needs that must be met in order to keep him happy. he has a high sex drive and need to please, tell him what a good boy is and milk him dry—don't worry he can take it.

♡ exhibitionism... some people just live for the thrill and jake is one of those people, run your hands up his thigh in a movie theatre while telling him to keep quiet, sneak off to a changing room in a crowded mall, or fuck him in the car parking lot. he'll whisper in your ear, "can you please help me? i'm hard." no matter where you are, there are few places jake will draw the line on a quickie to tide him over until you're back home.

[rockspider556]

Batfam Headcanon #2

So. Damian Wayne’s school recital.

First off, Damian does not want to be there. He even performs this whole dramatic speech about how performing the viola in front of a bunch of “intellectually inferior Gotham Prep students” was a waste of his talents.

Bruce, however, is thrilled. He had missed out on these sorts of milestones with Dick, Jason, and Tim for various reasons—crimefighting, estrangement, or simply bad timing. But this? This was his chance to savour the quintessential "proud dad at a school event" experience, and he was not going to squander it. He buys eight tickets—front row for the whole family, obviously. He even tells Tim to “clear your schedule” and makes Jason promise on pain of death to show up.

He doesn’t stop there though. He rents an absurdly expensive high-end video camera (the kind National Geographic use to capture footage of lions on the savannah) to record the performance in its entirety, despite Barbara pointing out that smartphones have perfectly good cameras these days, and was pacing in front of the theatre doors 30 minutes before they even opened, muttering about getting the perfect angle. As the recital begins, the Batfam does their best to blend in with the other parents, though it’s a losing battle. Especially with Jason muttering snarky comments under his breath about the less-than-stellar early performances. “If this is what passes for talent at Gotham Prep, I’m never letting Damian forget he’s related to these people.”

Damian, to his credit, looks completely calm at all this chaos. Professional, even. He’s so composed, standing there with his viola, tuning it like this was just another mission. And then he starts playing. Y’all. He was perfect. Like, annoyingly, infuriatingly perfect. Every note was precise, every movement elegant.

You could see Karen from the PTA side-eyeing Bruce like, “What kind of prodigy factory are you running?”

But here’s the thing: the minute Damian finishes, and the polite applause starts?

The Batfam absolutely loses it.

I’m talking:

Dick and Duke standing up, leading a standing ovation.

Jason yelling “THAT’S MY BABY BROTHER, YOU PEASANTS!”

Cass throwing fake confetti that she’d somehow smuggled in.

Steph shaking her homemade “GO DAMI” sign so hard the glitter was falling off

Tim also standing up to applaud, completely forgetting about the phone on his lap live-streaming the whole thing to Alfred back home, ruining the video completely

Barbara’s reaction being the perfect mix of affection, amusement and calm.

Bruce clapping so loudly it echoed through the whole auditorium.

Damian’s ears? Fire engine red. He storms off stage like, “You’re all the worst. I’m disowning every single one of you.” BUT. Later that night, Tim catches him sneaking the recital signup sheet for next year off the fridge. He totally signed up again. Because deep down, he knows that no matter how irritating they are, the Batfam were always going to be the loudest cheer squad in Gotham

And perhaps, just perhaps, he didn’t mind that as much as he claimed.

[eliomwah]

Sweet Nothing || Spencer Angew x F!Reader

Summary: Y/N struggles with hate comments, Spencer is there to comfort her and make her feel better.

Warning: Angst? Negative Self Talk, Crying

Word Count: 1.2k

Note: Inspired off the song "Sweet Nothing" by Taylor Swift

----- <3 -----

The comment section is never a place to look, especially when you’re already feeling bad about yourself. Normally, Y/N stays away from the comments of any video but today was different. They needed some of the crazier comments for a Smosh Pit Theatre video. As she was sifting through different videos, Y/N started seeing a lot of hate comments. Which wasn’t unusual, but there was a common theme. Most of the comments were about her. This sent her brain down a spiral of criticism and hate. She has been a cast member at Smosh for a few years now. She thought everything was going well. People laughed at her bits, she was cast in many different videos, and the fans always seemed to love her. Y/N knew hate comments were all apart of the job, but these ones were hitting close to home. All she wanted was to be apart of Smosh. She tried her best in every video, wanting to be on the same level as her fellow cast mates. She thought she was achieving that goal, but she must have been wrong.  

“Hey, you ok?” Courtney says as she walks by her desk. 

“Yeah, just lost in thought,” Y/N says, looking up at Courtney. 

Unconvinced, Courtney gives her soft smile. “If you need anything I’m always here to talk.” 

“Thanks Court. I’ll be ok. Just been a little stressed recently.” 

“Awe, sweetie. Well, tomorrow we’re playing Gentlemen’s Werewolf again, so that should be fun. And, hey, let’s go out for lunch after!” 

“Yeah, that would be wonderful!” You reply, though the idea of filming tomorrow isn’t as comforting as Courtney thinks. Hopefully lunch with one of your besties will help you get through a filming day. 

“Ok, I’m going home. Don’t stay too late tonight.” 

“I won’t, I promise.” Courtney grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze before walking towards the door. 

Y/N goes back to her laptop, staring blankly at her screen. She knows she needs to stop going through the comments, but she can’t seem to pull her eyes away. Her mind is doing crazy things. She’s needs to snap out of it. This isn’t who she is. Y/N started out as an editor and slowly they started casting her in videos. She had assumed there was a reason she was put into videos, but she guesses they just needed someone to fill as space. When they had asked her to be a full time cast member as well as an editor, Y/n was hesitant but agreed. It was going to be a lot of work, but everyone loved her in the crew videos, especially Shayne’s hide and seek video. It was during her first week on the job. She had no idea where to hide. As she was searching for a spot, she ran into her future best friend/ work crush, Spencer. He helped her come up with the idea where she was sneaking behind Shayne the whole time. Shayne was so confused and laughed hysterically once he caught her. On that day she had truly felt like she belonged at Smosh. She had been wrong. Maybe all her friends were lying to her. Maybe she isn’t as funny as everyone said. The internet is known for being brutally honest. 

Y/N’s feels her phone buzz on her desk. She turns over her phone to see a text from Spencer. 

Spence: Wanna come over? I have a pizza and game controller calling your name 

This was a little tradition for Y/N and Spencer, getting takeout and playing video games on a Friday night. Y/N and Spencer had barely talked all day. He was busy was a last-minute change to the games shoot schedule and she had been editing the new TNTL. It has been a stressful week all around. It would be nice to have a relaxing night, especially with how the last few hours have been. Spencer always made her feel better whatever the situation. 

Y/N: Only if the games Mario Party 

Spence: … 

Spence: fiiiiiiinnneeeee. I guess we can play it for the 100th time this month 

Y/N: what can I say, I just love it soooo much hehe 

Y/N: I’ll be there soon 

Y/N closes her laptop. She decides to go home and finish this assignment tomorrow. As she drives to Spencer’s house, she can’t help but think about the comments. She’s so tired of feeling like she’s not enough. Though she knows she shouldn’t care about what the internet has to say, right now it’s all she can think about. She tries to play some music to uplift her spirits. She doesn’t want to bring down the vibe with Spencer. The music doesn’t seem to help. As she walks up to Spencer’s apartment, Y/N starts to feel more insecure. Normally, Spencer makes her feel better. He always finds a way of making her laugh, making her feel safe. But what if she’s not enough for him?  

Y/N stops in front of his door. She thinks about everything she should have done by now. All the things that others have don’t that she hasn’t. She thinks about the comments and everything they said about her. For a second, she thinks about going home and wallowing in her self-hatred. Why would Spencer ever fall for someone like her? She knocks on the door. Spencer answers and before he could say anything she crashes into him and buries her head into is neck. And he lets her. She takes a deep breath and relaxes into his arms. After a while, he leads them to the couch so they can sit down. 

“What’s going on? Are you ok?” Spencer asks. He has a concerned look on his face. Y/N pauses for a second. She doesn’t want to burden Spencer with all her insecurities but the look in his eyes makes her want to explain the deepest parts of her soul. He made her feel safe. 

“I had to look though comments today, for a video, and…” Y/N starts to tear up and looks down at her lap “and I don’t know why but they really got to me and I’m trying my best but I feel like I’m not enough and…” 

Spencer interrupts. “It’s ok, it’s ok. The common section is never a good place to look. I promise you no one at Smosh thinks those things,” He pauses for a second “and I don’t think any of those things. You are one of the funniest people I get to work with each day. I look forward to shoot blocks only because I get to watch you smile and laugh and do silly little bits. Seeing you happy makes me happy.”  

He places a hand on her cheek and wipes away a tear. She looks up at him. Sitting there, Y/N feels like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. Neither of them says anymore. Soon they start to play Mario Party and eat the pizza. They laugh and banter back and forth as they play, Spencer ultimately winning in the end. As he was beating Y/N in a mini game, she couldn’t help but feel happy. All the voices in her head telling her that she isn’t enough, all the hate and all the self-doubt, that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to her was Spencer. And the only thing he wanted from her was sweet nothing.

[starlightxsvt]

Beautiful Liar | part of the Treacherous Tales Series

pairing ➳ dk x fem!reader

genre ➳ mafia au, dark romance? angst, smut.

wc ➳ 16.8k

synopsis ➳ you have old scores to settle and he's a pretty pawn in your game. but one must remember obsession leads to destruction.

warnings ➳ violence, mentions of mafia, murder, kidnapping & suicide, stalking, breaking and entering, manipulation, gambling, mention of rape, protected sex, teasing, male oral.

playlist ➳ beautiful liar- monsta x, vigilante shit- taylor swift, part goddess part gangster- madalen duke, horns-bryce fox, don't blame me- taylor swift, no body no crime- taylor swift, the hills- the weekend.

"I need him."

Your words dissipate into the cool air inside the car as your gaze remains focused out your window, trained on one certain man.

"What do you need me to do?" Changkyun immediately asks with violence underlying in his tone. You click your tongue in disapproval, not letting your eyes stray from your pretty prey. "You won't be doing anything this time. He is mine."

The man sitting in the driver's seat next to you only grunts in reply.

Through the passenger side window, you keep observing him, as the man smiles and talks to some students before taking his leave, walking inside another building as he disappears from your sight, making you sigh.

"Okay. You actually do need to do something."

"What?"

"Get me his schedule."

-

Theatre and drama were never your thing. Yet, here you sit, in Professor Lee's class as he talks about the history of theatre.

While the lecture itself is boring and definitely not worth the trouble you went through to sneak into his class as you are not a student, the man himself is pleasing to listen to and look at.

There is something boyish and innocent about him and as you watch him give the lecture, his voice so sweet and soothing that it is almost impossible to believe that he is related to the Lee family.

The two-hour lecture is surprisingly quick to pass by as you sit at the very back of the classroom, watching him carefully. With the clock striking 2 pm, the lecture finishes and students clear out of the classroom, leaving you behind who sits immobile in her place.

That manages to capture Professor Lee's attention. He takes off his reading glasses and tilts his head to look at you, blinking as if he's trying to remember you from somewhere.

With an amused smile playing on your lips, you stand up from your seat and strut to the podium slowly.

"Good afternoon, Professor." You greet, holding out a hand. He takes a look at your face and then your hand before softly shaking it. "Good afternoon. I don't think you are a student of mine."

Up close, the man looks dashing. Perfect sharp features; prominent cheekbones and a sharp nose, soft plump lips on his slightly tanned skin. Covered up to the neck with a white turtleneck underneath a black cashmere suit, he looks far from what he truly is.

So innocent, so deceitful.

You grin. "You are absolutely correct, Professor Lee. I am not."

He looks amused as well, raising a brow with the expectation that you are going to explain yourself.

"I am just a fan, you could say."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I came across your presentation at the Royal Opera House this July. I have been a fan ever since."

"Well...I am pleased to hear that. I hope I have managed to inspire you in some way."

"Oh, you have. Plenty." You can't refrain from a grin.

"I am glad then." He pauses for a beat as he takes a look at his watch. "You'll have to excuse me now. I have a meeting soon."

"Of course. I just wanted to say hi. Have a nice day." You take a step back.

The man nods, giving you a small smile as he starts walking out of the classroom, his shoes clicking on the floor. He looks gorgeous even from behind, the afternoon sun streaming from the windows in the hallway casting around him in an angelic glow.

Just as he is about to fully exit the classroom, he stops and turns his head. "I didn't get your name, though. Where are you from?"

You can't help but smile diabolically. "From the wrong side of the tracks, professor."

-

Professor Lee has a pretty house, made up of a rustic brick structure and well furnished black tiles for the roof, a perfect blend of modern and old. The wooden fence around the perimeter of the house is not hard for you to cross as you make your way through his yard, careful not to step anywhere that would leave a trace.

The perfect time to break into his place is now, midday, as he is currently busy teaching a class. Changkyun is keeping an eye on him, camped outside the university, ready to inform you if his position changes as you take your time combing through his house.

The front of his house has a CCTV camera, which is precisely why you broke in through the back. Carefully crossing the yard, you tiptoe along the side of the house and turn right where there is a window. Making sure that you are in a blind spot, you pry the window open after a small struggle and gingerly make your way in like a sneaky cat.

His house is beautiful, exactly fitting his image. The floors are made of dark wood as well as most of the furniture; a dark yet soothing vibe emanating from his abode. The window you used to get in leaves you in a small hallway and after looking around a little, you get a general sense of direction.

Straight from the hallway, there is his bedroom which is where you head first. You are somewhat disappointed when you find it so sterile. The room, composed of a queen sized bed, a dresser and a closet is pristine. Everything is neat, not a hair out of place as if no one lives here. There is no decoration, no trace of personalization like a picture or a painting which you find odd because you expected something that would indicate his ties to his dear family.

Not letting the disappointment get to you, you walk out of the bedroom, heading for the closed door on the left; twisting the knob, you open the door to find his study and a smile spreads on your lips.

It's a fairly large room, the walls on both sides surrounded by large mahogany shelves containing books about art, literature and others. You carefully step in, heading straight for the large desk in the middle.

To your utter disappointment, it doesn't contain any schedule or indication about the life of crime that he comes from. There is not a single sign that would tell anyone that he is the younger brother of the notorious ruler of District 1.

Instead, aside from his computer on the desk, there are only a few books related to theatre on one side and a few lecture sheets on the other. It is so unexpected that you are stunned to silence, standing in the middle of the room, almost starting to think that you came to the wrong house.

Changkyun's sudden voice from the bluetooth disrupts your thoughts. "___, he is leaving early. He just got in his car. I'm following him. You have about 15 minutes to get out of there."

"Fine," you mutter.

There is still enough time. But by the looks of this, you could have all the time in the world and still not find anything that would tell you he's one of the heirs to District 1.

Grunting you lean down and start checking the drawers only to find nothing; no secret meeting location, nothing that you can use to blackmail him or anything that will lead you to the main culprit, his brother.

Sighing, you stand up straight and look around the room. Maybe he is being extra cautious and doesn't keep any evidence here. Maybe he has a secret hideout for his life of crime.

The idea, however, doesn't make sense because you have been stalking him and the only place he frequents is the university.

It's odd.

It almost feels like he doesn't have any connection with District 1.

No, no. That doesn't make any sense.

"___, you have 10 minutes!"

"I know, I know!" You snap, annoyed.

Walking over to the bookshelves you gently drag your fingers over the spine of each book, hoping maybe one of them would be the key to opening a secret room behind the shelves.

Nothing like that happens.

Accepting your defeat, you come out of the house but not before placing a bug underneath the table in his study with the hopes of getting some information by spying on him. Crossing the fence, you take special care to make sure you didn't leave behind any trace of entry before finally exiting the perimeter of the house.

Once safely out of the range of his house, you stand on the opposite side of the road and watch Professor Lee pull up a few minutes later. Changkyun's car follows him half a minute later as he drives straight to where you are standing, before coming to a stop in front of you.

You tug open the door and get in on the passenger side.

"Why the long face? Find nothing?"

"Shut up."

-

A change of plans is the only way.

Your second plan is to court him which isn't really a problem given the man is as pretty as a doll and toying with him would be absolute fun. With the decision set, you begin phase two of your operation, stalking him.

Well, you were stalking him before too but now, you start to follow every single footsteps of him, quite literally.

You follow him everywhere, discreetly, of course, getting to know his schedule as precisely as possible before striking.

His routine is rather bland, he wakes up, goes to work, then goes to the gym and then comes back home. It is something you find odd, once again. No matter from which angle you consider, the equation does not add up. Still, you try to make the best of whatever little ammunition you have at hand and pretend to bump into him randomly.

Like, one sunny afternoon you pretend to wait for someone in the parking lot of his university right when he is to leave for the day. Surprisingly, he's the first one to approach you, as he gently grabs your attention. "Hey. We uh, met the other day."

"Oh, hello, Professor Lee. Glad you remembered. One of your biggest fans."

"Have you enrolled here?"

"Ah, I wish. I'm here to...meet a friend's daughter."

"I see. What's her department?"

You blink, not expecting that question but recover quickly. "You ask too many questions professor. Let me ask you one instead. Can I have your number?"

You see the tips of his ears go red.

So adorable.

He blinks, taken aback as he searches for the right words. "Well, uh, why?"

"Why? You're hot and intelligent. I want to go out with you."

"Well, I don't think it's a good idea."

"Why?"

"Just because." He replies, almost unsure, looking at you as if you are a bizarre creature.

You take a step towards him, an amused smile on your face from his reaction. Leaning close to him, you slowly fix the lapels of his jacket. Perplexed, he looks at the motion of your hands before moving his gaze to your face.

"Please, professor? One date is all I ask." You give him puppy eyes.

There is a sharp inhale as his pupils widen just a little bit while you gaze into his eyes, unblinking. The proximity is intense, you can smell his perfume, feel his breath on your skin and from the way he keeps looking at you, there is an urge to kiss him building within you.

Just when you are sure you can sneak in a kiss, he breaks the moment by taking a step back, out of your reach. Clearing his throat, he says. "I can't. I have a girlfriend."

Liar.

Not waiting for your reply, he opens the door to his car and gets in. As his engine fires up with a hum, you walk near the vehicle and lean in to look at him through the half open window. "Don't lie professor. You don't have a girlfriend."

He looks at you silently for a moment, his hands resting on the steering wheel. "This is why I won't go out with you."

You are confused.

"You seem to know too much about me and I don't like that."

With that, he pulls out of the parking lot, leaving behind a trail of smoke and your baffled self.

It's fine.

You know you are on the right track. He is definitely attracted to you so it is not over yet. In fact, it is only the beginning.

This is going to be so much fun.

-

For the next week, you make it your mission to pop up in front of Seokmin while he is out and about. You first pretend to run into him at his favourite coffee shop, acting delighted when he notices you. He seems wary upon seeing you and since it was only the first day of your mission, you let him off easy, saying that this is fate telling that you two are meant to be.

The next time you pretend to run into him again at the car park of the university, once again announcing that you are waiting for your friend's daughter. He keeps the conversation short, simply by nodding and getting into his car rather hurriedly. You, however, don't forget to throw him a compliment, looking as innocent and genuine as possible; like an innocent young girl who has been rejected by her desired man and now longs for him from afar.

That seems to work a bit.

The lesser you speak and the more innocent your attitude becomes, the longer your encounters last. Seokmin would start initiating the conversation and then ask formal questions as if to keep the conversation going or maybe, to test you and see what your true intentions are.

Either way, you don't fall for that.

Instead, you act detached, like a damsel who failed to capture the eye of the man she loves.

Finally, one morning, when you are walking out of the coffee shop, he stops you on your way by extending his hand to touch your elbow softly. You have to hide your smile before turning around.

"You know, I never got to see the girl." He says.

"Which girl?"

"Your friend's daughter. The one you come to the university for."

Ah.

"Oh, you didn't?" You blink innocently. He looks at you for a beat, before giving you a knowing smile. "You know, I think we both know that that's a lie."

You avert your gaze, acting like you did not hear him.

"As much as you seem to be enjoying this, I need you to stop following me around." He says, voice soft but firm and you know it's a command.

It's a shame you don't take commands well.

Tilting your neck to a side, you pop a muscle before giving out a loud exhale, composing yourself. "Have a nice day, Mr Professor."

You walk away.

-

You were getting tired of playing around. The man may be attracted to you but you are coming to a realization that it will not be enough for him to give him. He is cautious and given who he really is, he will never let a woman like you get close to him, no matter how much he may like you.

"I told you, we should have just kidnapped him. His brother would show up immediately." Changkyun complains out loud. The two of you have been sitting in your study for the past hour, trying to come up with a plan.

"You know I don't work like that. It's too easy. And too risky."

You have a bad habit. You always end up getting emotionally involved in every case you encounter. This one should not be an exception. In fact, this is the best place to get emotional because his brother hurt you by hurting your family. It is only fair you do the same to him now. And along the way, you get to tease a pretty man like Professor Lee. It is a win-win situation for you, almost.

In your world, betrayal is the sweetest revenge. If you can betray Professor Lee after earning his trust, that will be the sweetest revenge.

"I don't give up so easily, you know," you whisper, planning your next move.

-

"No teacher needs that much muscles, professor!" Your voice echoes through the empty gym at night.

Dokyeom whips his head around, dropping the dumbbell that was in his hand, eyes wide at your sudden voice. "You! How did you get in here!" You don't appreciate his accusatory tone.

"I come to this gym as well." You shrug, strolling towards him with your hands behind your back before plopping down next to him on a bench. He gives you an exasperated look. "Really?"

"Mhmm." You smile.

"Liar. What do you want? I told you to stay away from me."

You shrug. " Mhmm, can't do that professor. I miss you."

His lips thin, a sign that he is clearly not amused by your antics but it's a shame. You find all of this way too amusing.

You find him amusing.

"I know you are after something else. I am not stupid, ___." He turns to face you properly, his eyes carefully watching you.

A soft smirk plays on your lips. Of course, he is not stupid. Heir to the Lee family, he is the farthest thing from stupid.

"Did you have someone look into me, professor?" You ask nonchalantly.

"Look into you? What is that supposed to mean?" He asks, leaning closer to you.

You're treading in dangerous territory. You cannot give yourself in so quickly.

"I mean a smart, famous man like you has a lovesick stalker. I'm sure you had a detective or someone take a look into me, no?"

More like an intelligence member of the mafia. Maybe even his dear brother.

"So you are admitting that you are a stalker?"

"Oh, not just any, though. A lovesick stalker." You blink innocently at him.

He remains silent making you wonder if he is buying your words.

"Since you are asking me what I want, I assume you asked around and couldn't find anything, then?" You tilt your head, tone playful as you continue the conversation. You are not going to leave today until you are successful.

After a moment, he admits. "Yes. You run on the wrong side of the tracks, that is all I could find."

You chuckle. "There is nothing else to find, professor. I'm just a bad girl infatuated with you and your words and your passion for art."

"You? I am not buying that."

"Me? What is that supposed to mean?" You feel a little offended. "Can a girl not be a gangster and love theatre? Not every one of us gets to chase our dreams, you know."

You see his eyes soften as he remains silent, pondering your words. You watch him, carefully leaning closer to him before dragging a manicured finger over his bicep flirtily.

"What do you want?" His voice comes out breathy this time, those deep pools of chocolate in his eyes boring into you and oh god, do you love your name on his lips.

It would be even better to hear him say that in bed.

"A date with you, professor." You whisper, inching your face closer to him, your lips a mere few inches away from his and you don't miss the way his gaze drops to them before coming back up to your eyes.

"And if I say no?" He swallows. You pout, snaking a hand over his chest, feeling the strong muscles beneath your palm, pleased that he lets you touch him. "Why would you say no, professor? I am really good in bed, you know."

He watches you quietly once again and you hate how you cannot tell what is going on inside his head. Is he falling for your words or is he simply piecing things together and trying to uncover you? There is a slight flush on his cheeks but you don't know if it's because of you or his workout.

His hand comes to grab your wrist, breaking your train of thought as he takes your hand off his chest and places it on your lap.

"Tell me something you have never told anyone before."

"What?" You are perplexed.

"Tell me something, anything, a secret, a wish, that you have never told anyone before. Then, I will go on a date with you." He replies.

Wait, what?

You blink, absolutely baffled at his words as he sits in silence, looking at you expectantly. His gaze is sombre and sincere, like he really wants to know you and for the first time in forever, your heart skips a beat, making you feel out of place and vulnerable. Quickly, you break eye contact with him and stare at your boots as you think of a reply.

"Don't think of making up a lie. I can tell, you know." He adds.

A soft sigh escapes your lips as you internally roll your eyes at him. "I...I have this urge to leave everything behind and just go to an island. Or a place near the sea and spend the rest of my life there, where nobody knows me, where my past doesn't haunt me."

A long silence follows after your words and you cannot make yourself look at him, afraid of what you will find in his eyes, afraid of how they would make you feel and at the same time hating that these thoughts are bothering you.

"I am free this weekend." He murmurs standing up. You look up, surprised, excited. He puts on his hoodie, acting like he did not just agree to a date with you. As he starts walking out of the gym, completely ignoring your presence, you yell. "I'll text you!"

He turns around to look at you as if to ask how you have his number but simply gives you an exasperated look which you reply with a cheeky smile.

"I'm only free after noon." He declares, continuing on his path.

"No problem, professor." You grin.

-

You agree on an evening library date which is not really an ideal date for you but because of the facade you are holding up, you agree. The library is situated near his campus, an old architectural piece, with dimmed yellow lights and gold details and large windows, radiating a little bit of a gothic energy. He chose the library because of your (fake)interest in theatre, saying that the library would be the best place to discuss these things and you agreed because other than that, it is also not crowded and you can have his full attention.

Dokyeom hand picks a few books on the topic with pure enthusiasm as you follow him around, nodding to whatever he is saying. For the most part, you observe him, watching him with rapt attention, the details of his face, the change of his expressions as he talks, the movement of his hands—

And you have to admit, he has very pretty hands; long and bony, perfect to suck on.

Shaking your head at the ridiculous thought, you follow him to a private study room.

He pulls a chair and helps you sit down, making you smile at his manners. Once he is sat, he turns to you and asks. "Okay, then. What would you like to talk about today? Let's start with plays. What is your favourite play?"

"I don't know, what is yours?" You ask, blinking innocently at him as you rest your chin on your palm. He frowns. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"My favourite play is whatever your favourite play is." You reply sweetly, making him throw an exasperated look at you.

"Is this how you are going to be?"

"Deeply infatuated with you? Yes, professor."

Shaking his head, he opens a book, murmuring something under his breath but you see the soft hint of a smile playing on his lips, making you smile as well.

This should be easy.

Your date goes smoothly, with him discussing his favourite plays, playwrights and whatnot and you nodding along and watching him, throwing in some pointless questions here and there to appear interested. All the while in the back of your mind, you keep planning your next move. Seokmin isn't a stupid man and you know deep down, he sees through your pretence but seeing how he is still entertaining you means that you have captured his interest. And you have to use this to your benefit.

Fate seems to be on your side as on the way back home, Dokyeom suddenly asks if you are free for dinner.

You have to work very hard to mask the huge grin of satisfaction on your face when you say yes. Your response pleases him, visible from his reaction as he excitedly turns the car around and selects a restaurant.

Dokyeom goes all out for dinner, as you are guided to a private dining room upon entering the restaurant. You have to say that his effort impresses you. And of course, it solidifies your belief that he is falling for you. Smiling, you strut behind him.

He pulls out your chair for you, helping you sit down before ordering some appetizers and wine for you to get started.

"I'm a bit surprised you agreed to come." He speaks after a small pause.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I- I just had a thought that you were not serious about me. It almost felt like you lost a bet. I had the impression that you were just playing with me and wasting my time the last few weeks but I'm surprised you pulled through."

You only give him a smile in reply.

"You know, I believe you are one of two things. A weirdo who wants to bed a professor just for fun or, someone with a hidden intention, playing the long game."

"Aren't you smart, professor?" You grin condescendingly, resting your cheek on your palm.

"I know you are bad news, yet..." He pauses for a beat, sighing at himself. "Yet for the past week, I could not stop thinking about you. I'm in deep trouble, no?"

"You are," You smile. "In the sweetest trouble, I promise you."

He scoffs, a faint smile appearing on his lips. "Let's order the main course, shall we?"

The dinner begins with casual small talk as he tells you about his work and you listen, asking casual questions here and there. When you are taking your second serving of the alfredo pasta, he asks. "Tell me about yourself. Why do you do what you do?"

"Come again?" Your movements halt as you look at him.

"Your... profession." He seems to not find his words. "Killing people, threatening them, weapon business, fraud... whatever you do."

"Hm, I do a little bit of all of that but," you set your utensils down, looking up. "Interesting question, professor."

"Is it like a family business?"

Your eyes fly to his, looking for a sign in them of whether he knows your background or not. For a moment you tense up and hold your breath but his face remains the same, looking at you curiously as he sips his wine.

"No, not really." You reply before finishing your glass of wine. "Parents died early. They knew a few people who were in this business and I got involved."

"What business is it exactly?"

"Aren't you curious, professor?"

He shrugs, looking at you in silence, waiting for you to continue. You sigh, dropping your cutlery down and leaning back into the chair.

"My father was in the weapons business. After he passed away things were messy for a bit and I realized dealing with weapons was not my strong forte. Now I'm in the loaning business and I also do contract killing."

Dokyeom's eyes widen significantly and you can't help but laugh at his reaction. He is acting like he hasn't heard something like this before, living in the world that he lives in.

He looks around before lowering his voice and asking. "So you are like a thug that lends people money with high interest?"

"Yep."

"And you beat them up if they fail to return the money on time?''

"Precisely," you grin.

"And what was that about contract killing? What are you? A hitman?"

"You can say that. But I have clients of various ranges. I kill for politicians, for local gangs and even for civilians."

"For civilians?" He hisses.

"Yes, professor." You take a sip of your wine, swirling the bitter liquid around in your mouth. "Three months ago, the news of a young girl getting raped by a senator's son broke out. I'm sure you have heard of that. The girl was only seventeen and the guy came to her birthday party without any invitation, caused a ruckus and raped her that night because she refused to drink with him. The mother of that girl ran around tirelessly for help while she recovered at the hospital. Everyone she went to, told her to drop the charges for her own good. For one, it would take months, even years to complete the investigation and during that time they'd only get harassed, and two, they could never win the case."

"One day, the mother came to see me. I don't know how she found me and I didn't ask. She offered me her entire life savings and begged me for justice for her daughter. I didn't accept her money but I promised her I would avenge her daughter."

"Then...the death of that senator's son, you were behind it?" Seokmin whispers.

"Yes. I castrated him and then slit that bastard's throat."

"And the incident of the senator that came on the news, were you behind that as well?"

"Yes. He was equally at fault. He let his son go astray and then covered up his crimes. He did not deserve to speak another word so I cut his tongue. Fun, no?'

He doesn't reply to you but falls into a deep state of thought as you continue your dinner.

"Did I scare you, professor?" You ask, seeing him so silent.

He blinks a few times, coming out of his reverie. "No."

"Hm, doesn't sound like that."

Once more, you are met with silence as he watches you from the opposite side of the table, the look in his eyes serious, almost as if he is scrutinizing you. You start to grow uncomfortable under his stare, slightly worried that he might piece two and two together and see through you.

Surprising you, he says, "Looks like I misjudged you, ___. I shouldn't have. I apologize."

"What?"

"Not all actions can be boxed into black and white. What you did may be illegal but it was necessary and right. It won't undo everything that the girl went through, but it still makes the whole thing a bit fair."

For probably the first time in your life, you find yourself speechless. You open your mouth to reply but you realize that you are incapable of forming a reply to what he said. So, you just sit in silence, mirroring him.

"I don't know your past and I don't know what your struggles are but you are a good person, ___.''

Your throat has dried up by now as a weird sensation starts settling in your heart. It is uncomfortable and your appetite is ruined.

The man can probably sense your discomfort because he lets out a soft chuckle and leans back into his seat. "I just thought you should know that. I was not trying to woo you or anything."

You swallow a lump in your throat and force a smile. "Let's order dessert, shall we?''

Soon after that, you finish dinner and Dokyeom offers to give you a ride home and you accept it but only after a little internal debate.

Your own attitude baffles you. Why are you hesitating to let him drop you home? Is it because you have started feeling weird things under his company and now you want to avoid them?

No, that's outrageous. You are just tired from a long day of playing pretend.

The drive to your house is silent as you actively avoid having any conversation with him by facing the window and closing your eyes, your arms crossed as you pretend to go to sleep.

A good amount of driving later, you reach your house and tap in the code number for the main gate to open.

"She's a beauty, isn't she?'' You ask upon noticing his reaction; wide eye and mouth slightly open as he drives into your compound, coming to a stop in front of the steps that lead to your main entrance.

The house resembles a haunted mansion in many ways. It is at least a hundred years old, huge but empty, creepers growing around the black tiles, surrounded by dead trees and an abandoned garden. This is where you used to live with your family a long time ago and after your father's death, you left, letting that house collect dust. It is only recently that you started living here after you formed your plan to take the Lee family down.

"She is." He agrees with a nod before undoing his seatbelt. Before you can do that and open your door, he rounds the car and holds the door open for you.

The chilly night air hits your skin as you step out of the car. Dokyeom's gaze travels past you, marvelling at your home.

"Would you like to come in?" You surprise yourself by asking. He immediately nods with a sheepish grin. "I would love to see the interior."

"Well, it is a mess and full of dust but come along," You lead the way as he follows you closely. Holding the door open, you let him step in.

The door opens to a large space in front of a staircase leading upstairs. This area used to be for sitting, and now it is barren of anything. There is a large floor to ceiling window by the staircase, pouring the moonlight inside the space which is dimly lit by an antique chandelier.

"I see you didn't renovate." Dokyeon comments as he walks around, eyes scanning the space in wonder.

"Moved in recently."

"Hm, I like the style. If you end up renovating, I'd say don't change it too much." He advises. Humming, you start climbing the stairs. "My bedroom and the dining are upstairs. Wanna take a look?''

"Sure," he enthusiastically trails behind you as you come upstairs and show him the dining first and then the second bedroom before leading him to your bedroom.

"And here is my room," you hold open the door for him as he walks past you, the same look of wonder constant on his face.

"Wow," he walks straight to the open balcony, the night breeze flowing in strong, making the curtains dance. You slowly follow him, "I know right."

"I almost want to live here. Do you want to trade places with me?'' There's a boyish charm in his eyes and a genuine hint of glee in his voice as he looks at you with a smile.

"No thanks." You cannot help a small smile yourself.

A silence settles, a comfortable one in fact as you watch the view by his side in the cool night air.

"I had a good time today," he confesses, voice soft. You try hard not to acknowledge the funny feeling that spreads inside you upon hearing his words. Softly, you say. "Me too."

Your gaze moves to him and you find him looking at you, the look in his eyes is something you are unfamiliar with. Something that threatens to make your heart skip a beat, and make you forget what you are set out to do.

While you are lost in your thoughts, Dokyeom seems to have moved closer to you. His gaze has deepened and his face is suddenly mere inches away from you, taking you by surprise.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispers.

Fuck it. Part of your mission is to get him to bed, no? You will have to do it sooner or later.

You press your lips to his and fireworks go inside your head. It feels right, his lips moving against yours as you grab his jacket to pull him closer. By the time you two separate, you are breathless, your mind hazy. Dokyeom keeps looking at you like you are the most magnificent thing on this planet, his hand softly caressing your cheeks as your fingertips dance on his neck.

"Should I stay the night?"

There is a cheer of satisfaction within you. You let out a soft hum of acknowledgement which immediately brings his hands to your shoulders.

His lips are the epitome of temptation, your hooded gaze trained on it, stuck in a trance of pure desire. His fingers brush over your back in tantalising touches as he drops your coat from your shoulders, his eyes never straying from yours. Your hands move in a rhythm as you unbutton his blazer and reach for the hem of his turtleneck, helping him to get rid of it with a tug while simultaneously moving back inside your room and towards your bed, discarding the clothes messily on the floor.

His body is like an ancient Greek sculpture, lean and toned and you don't hide the hunger in your gaze. In silence, you push him towards the bed as he drops down to the mattress while you peel off your top along with your bra and then reach for the pants. Once you are left only in your panties, you strut towards him, a small smile on your lips because of the way he keeps looking at you, full of desire and burning passion.

Your hands move seductively as you take off his pants along with his boxers, making sure your nails scrape his thigh. With the fabrics gone, you see his cock for the first time, and my god is he blessed.

"What do you think? Will it please you?" He asks, making you smirk.

"Lie back professor," you order, standing up as he moves back into the bed, half lying against the headboard. You climb on the bed on all fours, positioning yourself on top of him. Leaning down, your lips tease him as your noses brush together softly. You whisper. "Let me give you a time you will never forget."

Something flashes in his eyes for a brief moment which you don't get to observe because his lips crash into yours, ensuing a fierce kiss. You moan into the kiss as his hands come to cup your neck and jaw, his lips pressed against yours relentlessly.

When you realise he is about to press you down into the bed, you break the kiss and inhale deeply. "Mhmm, no, professor. Let me take care of you first." You throw a wink at him and move down, your lips softly dragging against his skin, down his abdomen before reaching his half hard cock.

You take him in your hands, rubbing the base of his dick at a slow pace and watch his face raptly for reactions. As he grows hard against your hand, you lean down and take him into your mouth with one big swallow that makes Dokyem grunt out loud.

"Fuck!"

You smile as you continue your ministrations, moving your mouth up and down against his length while his body grows tense beneath you. Your tongue laps around his entire length, tasting him, teasing him as his breaths become shorter and shorter.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come soon."

His words work as a motivation for you as you increase your pace, swiping your tongue over his leaking tip before he finally explodes inside your mouth with a throaty groan.

You swallow every drop of him, a few trailing down the corner of your lips and you make a show of licking it with unwavering eye contact. Dokyeom lies flat on his back, panting harshly, hooded eyes watching you in an intense stare.

"Good, professor?" You grin, licking your index finger.

Exhaling loudly, he tugs you by your arm. "Come here!" Pinning you underneath his body, he kisses you, his tongue prodding into your mouth, tasting himself. You don't hold yourself back either, kissing him with equal passion until you forget where you end and he begins.

His lips meet your neck, kissing and sucking softly before trailing down to play with your sensitive nipples. As your whines grow in pitch and you grow restless, trying to break free from his grip and take over, he sits over your thighs, spreading his legs on both sides and resting on his knees.

"Do you have a condom?" He asks.

"Multiple," you reply, reaching for the bedside drawer.

As he puts the rubber on, you take the moment to appreciate his figure, his beautiful face, his bed-messy hair, his toned chest and abdomen and of course, his monster of a cock.

"You are one fine man, professor." You find yourself saying. You hate how you genuinely mean it.

"You are not too bad yourself." He flashes a grin before aligning himself with your pussy. As you take a deep inhale, he pushes in, making your body rise as you grip the sheets tightly in reply to the intrusion.

"Fuck, you're so tight."

Your response is to squeeze him tighter as you wrap your legs around his ass, pushing his body closer to yours. Delirious with pleasure, you start chasing his hips right away in a desperate rhythm of your own.

"Harder," you tempt, slinging your arms around his neck to pull him close. His breath fans your face, the slight perspiration on his temples clearly visible in this distance. In the yellowish hue of the room, his skin glows, giving him the appearance of a god, his messy hair tying everything together.

Dokyeom takes you up for the challenge as he increases his pace, making your head fall back as you let out a deep moan from the pits of your belly. He hits the perfect spot every time, driving you wild, bringing you deliciously close to the edge.

"Fuck, I need to come," you pant, hands reaching between your legs to touch your clit. Dokyeom, however, stops you by grabbing your both wrists and pinning them on top of your head, a cocky smirk on your face as he leans into your ear and whispers. "Say please first."

"Never," you immediately reply.

"Then you don't get to come."

"You asshole!" You hiss, trying to writhe free from his grasp but every time you move, his dick goes deeper inside you, amplifying the pleasure that makes you shudder.

"Come on sweetheart. You know you want to come."

"Ugh, no," you grunt, squeezing your eyes shut in a futile attempt to tone done your need for release."

"It's just one tiny word," the devil keeps whispering in your ear, continuing his ruthless thrusts as you teeter on the verge of begging.

"Fuck! Okay, okay!" You yell. "Please!"

"Hm, that didn't sound nice." The bastard complains, making you furious.

"I swear to god—" He interrupts you with a fierce kiss, pushing his tongue so deep inside your mouth that you forget to breathe. Letting go of your hands, his fingers move down, trailing along your skin before reaching between your legs and flicking your clit. That action is enough as you come, fireworks going off inside your body as you twist to a side, your toes curling in pleasure. Dokyeom's body shudders on top of yours as he comes, continuing to kiss your mouth, your chin and your jaw.

Soon, a silence settles in the air as his body rests on top of yours. You don't find it in you to push him off so you let him be, comfortable in his warmth and embrace as you close your eyes, soon to be overtaken by sleep.

-

Days bleed into weeks that turn into a month as you start dating Seokmin. He grows fonder of you each passing day, the look in his eyes and his actions mirroring what he holds for you in his heart. He starts accepting your obsessive tendencies along with your profession, which pleases you immensely. You have your enemy where you want and things seem to be going your way.

Except one thing.

After you started dating Dokyeom, you have stayed over at his place only a few times. Of course, you made use of those times, snooping through his house in hopes of finding something that would lead you to his brother or at the very least, tell you of his ties to the mafia family of District 1. You never found a single thing. When you asked him about his family, he replied that he is an only child whose parents passed away because of a car crash.

A lie, of course.

Your plan is in motion but at the same time, you feel stuck. You have Dokyeom in the palm of your hand, you just need to get to his brother for everything to come together. You had dramatic plans for a reunion but at this stage, that looks quite impossible.

Maybe you should have just kidnapped him.

-

One weekend he invites you to his house for dinner as a celebration of him securing a contract with one of the biggest publishers in the country for his next book.

You put on your nicest dress and your fanciest heels for the occasion, your lips painted red as you strut to his front door with a bouquet of flowers.

Dokyeom opens the door looking a little more gorgeous than other days; his black hair brushed back sleekly, and wearing a cream coloured Ralph Lauren sweater with black pants. Tying the look together is his steel framed glasses which he looks fantastic with and which you adore seeing him wearing.

Whenever he wears those glasses you two end up having the most mind blowing sex.

Dokyeom remains rooted in his spot as he watches you, his eyes moving over your full frame with a look of appreciation and desire. You flash a grin, "Good evening, professor."

He blinks before smiling, "Good evening, ___. You look absolutely stunning."

"Thought I should dress up to celebrate you." You shrug. "May I come in?" You smile teasingly and he lets you in with a flustered laugh.

"Dinner is cooking in the oven. I will set the table up," he supplies as he helps you to take off your coat once you are inside. "Would you like some wine?''

"Sure," You follow him to the kitchen which has a soft aroma of the chicken roast, making your stomach rumble slightly. One of the many delights of dating Dokyeom has been his exceptional culinary skills. You watch as he pours wine into two glasses before offering you one, "The chicken will be done in ten minutes. Make yourself at home."

"Thanks," you receive the glass from him and stroll around the house, looking at his decoration, in the back of your mind thinking if any one of these plain items hides the key to his other identity. A phone call echos in the kitchen and you realize Dokyeom is getting a call. He accepts it with an apology directed at you before going to the porch to speak.

In the meantime, you sneak into his study. It is not even sneaking in, to be honest, because he has given you full access to every inch of his house and in fact, encouraged you to visit his study and take a look at his little library. You found it odd at first because his transparency shows that he has nothing to hide and as days pass by and you come up with no leads, a sinking feeling has started appearing in your belly. Not to mention that the bug you put underneath his desk has picked up nothing of importance, no conversation or phone call about District 1 or his mafia family.

Maybe you have made a huge mistake. Maybe he is some random innocent guy who just looks like the youngest son of Lee family and has fallen to your prey.

Still, you step inside his study with the hope of finding something new. Like every other time, your fingers comb through the shelves of his library before moving towards his desk, shuffling through the papers carefully to not disturb the arrangement. You also peek beneath the desk to make sure the recorder is still there and active before going through his drawers. It has become a routine check at this point, your fingers moving through his stuff in experienced movements as you hold your breath in anticipation of finding a lead.

It goes futile, of course.

With a defeated sigh you stand up to find Dokyeom standing at the entrance of his study with a completely foreign look on his face.

Shit.

A gasp of surprise and terror leaves your mouth as your eyes meet his and for several moments, a gut-wrenching feeling wreaks havoc within you. You hate how you feel, guilty like a criminal or even worse, a person breaking the trust they were given and getting caught red handed by the person who trusted them the most.

"What are you doing?'' His tone is flat and cold, something you are hearing for the first time. It takes a second for your brain to start functioning properly. "Just looking around, professor. You know I get snoopy sometimes." You tilt your head to the side, giving him a coy smile.

Dokyeom gives no reaction. He takes a few, slow steps towards you, his footsteps matching the beat of your heart as he comes to a stand in front of the table.

Then, his hand reaches below, searching for something beneath the table before coming back up with the bug in his hand.

Ah, fuck.

"What is this?" He asks.

"A bug? Who would do that to you, professor?" You ask innocently.

He keeps staring at you, the look of disappointment growing permanent on his face as you realize you are caught for good.

Fuck it, you had to reveal yourself one way or the other anyway.

With a loud exhale, you ask, "When did you find out?"

"Last week," he replies, tone clipped. "I was baffled when I found it. Nobody visited my place in the last few weeks except you. Stupidly, I told myself it cannot be you so someone must have broken in. I looked through the CCTV footage but I found nothing there was well." He blows out a long breath, shaking his head dejectedly, "I still prayed it wouldn't be you but the reality says otherwise, ___."

Hmm, it does.

"It was me," you announce, plopping down on his chair behind the desk while he watches you unamusedly. "And you are right. Someone did break in. That was me as well." You flash him an evil grin.

Whatever colour that was left on his face drains out as he keeps staring at you, unblinking, for a long period. You return his stare with one of your own, except you are curious to see his next reaction. There is also a feeling of dread somewhere within you but you decide to ignore it.

Dokyeom's palms come to rest on the table as he hangs his head low, remaining motionless. Finally, when he looks up, the look in his eyes has completely changed and his jaw is tight, giving you the first glimpse into the mafia heir that he really is.

You watch as he reaches for the scissors in the stationary holder sitting on his desk, and rounds the table before coming to stand right next to you, holding the tip of the scissors right against your neck as he leans down and hisses. "Should I slit your throat right here or should I hear you out?"

You must admit that you find this look on him very attractive.

You cannot help the grin, "Finally, you are acting like the youngest heir of District 1, professor. I like it."

His eyes widen slightly as the scissors move just a bit away from your skin. "What do you want?"

"To tell you that, I have to tell you a long story." Your smile drips with venom as you stand up and walk over to the sitting area. "Sit down. It's a long story." You say, motioning towards the sofa in front of you. He isn't enthusiastic but he follows your direction, sitting down in front of you, the scissors still in his hand.

You lean back into the cushions throwing one leg over the other as you look him in the eye.

"Once upon a time, six years ago actually, there was a man who used to deal weapons. His general clients were not high profile but one day he got orders from the mafia family of District 1. They had some issues with their regular supplier so they chose that man for a quick supply."

"The man had two daughters. One who was 18 at that time and another who was 16. Their mother passed away a couple of years ago and their father was always busy with either work or gambling so the sisters only had each other. The older sister took very good care of the younger one, making sure she was happy and protected all the time."

"Then one night, the mafia barged through the door, surrounding their house with armed men. The eldest and the youngest son of the Lee family also came. They dragged the father and the older daughter outside on the porch where they killed him with a clean shot in the head. Then they grabbed the older daughter and dragged her into their car, making her disappear forever."

"Meanwhile, the younger daughter watched all this from far away as the father's right hand man told her to remain hidden to save herself. After some digging around, it was found out that District 1 went to war with the Russians and they lost that war while also losing the head of the family, the father of the two brothers, Lee Jihoon and..." you pause before looking him dead in the eye and whispering, "Lee Seokmin."

Thick silence stretches in the air.

Dokyeom keeps looking at you, his fingers intertwined under his chin. "So, all this was a grand plan of yours to what, fool me? Betray me after making a joke out of me?" He asks. making you chuckle.

"You were only the beginning of my plan. I wanted to mess with you, of course, but I thought I would find out about your brother's whereabouts through dating you. I initially had a fun plan that I would show up uninvited in one of his business deals and ruin it, damage his reputation for good. However, that plan failed because I found no information about him or your family from you. You really hide that part of you well, no Professor?"

He remains silent.

"Now that my initial plan has failed, I think I will have to kidnap you, hm? Ask your brother for ransom. He would have no choice but to show up then."

Your words make Dokyeom scoff as he shakes his head, the corners of his lips turned up as if you have said the funniest thing ever. You don't like his reaction.

"You want to see my brother? I will arrange that."

"What?" You must have heard wrong. "What game are you playing now?"

"I'm not playing any game."

"Then why?" You narrow your eyes on him, your hand reaching to your back pocket to pull out the switchblade if necessary.

He looks at you for a long moment before letting out a breath. "I am impressed, that's all. I have to acknowledge your talent, no? Also, you deserve to know the truth." He looks you in the eye. "The real truth. Not some bullshit your father's right hand man made up."

"Don't you fucking tell me what is the truth and what is the lie, you murderer!" You seethe, clenching your fists.

You should just gut him right here.

Once again, he just smiles. "I will text you when he is available for the meeting. However, it will be one on one. If you bring someone else, he will not show up."

"I could still kidnap you."

"You are welcome to try but I guarantee you, that plan is going to fail. You are a smart woman. I'm giving you a good option. Just take it." He stands up.

"Well if you think that I alone am not a threat to your brother then you are mistaken. I can make his blood spill if I want to," You stand up and take a menacing step towards him. "If you find your dear brother dead after the meeting, don't blame me, hm?''

You don't wait for a reply as you turn on your heel and march out of the room. On your way out you find the dinner served on the table, the chicken cut nicely into pieces along with vegetables. Picking up a fork, you stab a few pieces of chicken, shove them into your mouth and then take a sip of the wine.

As always, his food tastes great.

With your coat slung over your shoulder, you pull open the door and yell behind you, "Thanks for the dinner, professor!"

You slam the door loudly behind you.

-

Lee Jihoon agrees to have a meeting with you one day later. Initially, you wanted Changkyun to drive you there but Dokyeom sent a text saying that he would pick you up because outside vehicles are not allowed entry into Jihoon's compound. Reluctantly, you agreed and after an absolute silent drive later, you reach the mansion of the mafia family of District 1.

The compound is stunning and heavily guarded, with checkposts and watch towers set at certain distances as well as multiple security screenings that you have to pass through. Once Dokyeom passes the final gate, the gorgeous mansion comes into view. Just upon entry, there is a large compound surrounding a giant water fountain in the middle of neatly trimmed rows of trees. Dokyeom stops the car at a small parking space near the front yard where the meeting will take place.

As the car comes to a stop you notice a small table and garden chairs set up underneath a large umbrella that is surrounded by multiple guards— the place of your meeting. With a deep breath, you step out of the car, along with Dokyeom who comes out of the driver's side door. Surprising you, he leans against the car with his arms crossed and starts looking around.

"You are not coming?''

"No."

You are perplexed but don't ask any further questions, busy with the task ahead of you. Tilting your head side to side, you pop your neck before marching towards the garden. Spotting you, one of the guards speaks into his comm. Throwing a mock smile at him, you drag a chair out and sit down, waiting for him to arrive. Out of curiosity, you turn your head behind to see Dokyeom in the same spot, staring off into the distance.

Weird.

A maid comes to serve two cups of tea before hurrying away and soon after, the man arrives.

Dressed in full black, Lee Jihoon steps out of the mansion and walks towards you, closely followed by two bodyguards, his body language is relaxed as he pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down. Taking off his shades, he looks at you, his eye contact calm yet unwavering along with something very powerful and dark brimming underneath as you come face to face with the man behind all your misery.

"Good morning, ___. My brother informed me about our interesting past." He speaks, his tone light, his facial expression laced with amusement as if he is catching up with an old friend.

"Then you know why I am here." You cut to the chase, trying to keep your tone as even as possible. Just hearing his voice irks you to your core.

"Remind me again." He hums, wiping his shades with a piece of cloth.

This motherfucking bastard.

"You killed my father! You kidnapped my sister! What—" You inhale deeply. "What did you do to her!" You hiss, unable to keep your voice from raising as your hands form fists, violent rage bubbling within you. There is a knife hidden underneath your bra and you consider pulling it out and stabbing him.

You can be quick but it wouldn't cause enough damage.

Besides, you need to know if your sister is alive.

"I see you are furious and I understand that feeling." Jihoon begins, throwing one leg on top of another as he links his hands together, leaning back to sit comfortably.

You hate how nonchalant he is about all this.

"Since I'm in a good mood today and my younger brother has asked for a favour after a very long time, I'll answer your questions. Let's begin with your father's death, shall we? My family had a deal with your father. He was to provide us with weapons and artilleries for a year because our usual supplier got murdered earlier that year and we chose him as a temporary replacement. In November of that year, a war broke out between us and the Russians. We went to war with those weapons. Guess what happened?"

You remain silent, staring at him in rage.

"The weapons stopped working. The guns would either jam or misfire. Hundreds of my men died and we lost that war. Your father sold us weapons that were crap. They were a batch of second grade weapons that he had lying around." Jihoon pauses for a second before resting his arms on the table and leaning closer to you. "You know why he did that?''

"Because he had gambled away the initial deposit we gave him. That led to an argument with his manufacturer who said the deal would be on hold. He could neither get the weapons nor cancel the deal with us so like a fucking coward, he sold us those shitty weapons."

"You are lying." You hiss.

"I was hoping you would say that. You see, I don't care whether you believe me or not, ___. You asked for the truth and here it is."

Bullshit.

Lee Jihoon is the master of manipulation, there is no way he is being honest right now.

"Then where is my sister? What did you do with her?"

His eyes darken at your words.

"She is alive. That is all you need to know." His tone is clipped.

You are immediately on your feet, the chair scraping backwards by your sudden motion. "Where is she, you fucking son of a bitch!" You bang your fists on the table, ready to jump on him. His bodyguard starts to come to you but Jihoon raises his hand as a signal for him to stand back.

"Sit down, ___." He remains unbothered. "Wherever she is, she is safe and well."

"Like I believe a word that comes out of your mouth! If she is really alive why won't you tell me!" You scream.

"Because your sister told me not to."

The ground slips away from your feet as your heart starts galloping. "What— what you talking about, you fucking liar!"

Jihoon gets up and walks towards you, fixes the chair back in its place and forces you to sit down by grabbing your shoulders.

"Look, ___. I am doing you the favour of explaining everything which I never do for anyone else. You can either act civil and stop calling me names or I have you escorted out right now." He threatens in your ear, his body leaning against the garden table. Your hands form tight fists in your lap as it takes everything within you to hold yourself back from punching him.

He says, "A word of advice for you, don't believe everything you see. Your sister has her demons that she had been hiding for a long time. She had them when we took her and she still has them. When she overcomes all of them, she will come find you."

You are stunned to silence.

"I- I don't believe you. You are making all this up." Your brain is scrambling, trying to fit the pieces together that you seem to have missed.

"Alright then. I'll contact your sister and tell her to write you a letter, maybe even attach some pictures. How about that?"

You remain silent.

Jihoon sighs and sits back down on the chair, before reaching for his phone inside his jacket. Swiping through the device, he finds what he is looking for before turning the screen towards you.

A gasp escapes you as your hands come to cover your mouth. It is a picture of your sister. You recognize her immediately despite the change in her features throughout the years. She sits by a window, a very subtle smile on her lips as she looks at the camera.

You could look at that picture forever but Jihoon takes the phone away, putting it inside his pocket as you blink away the tears from your eyes.

"You are all murderers. You ruined our lives." You whisper, your head hanging low as you stare at the green grass below your feet suddenly overcome with a feeling of helplessness.

Has she really been alive all this time? Has she been well?

"We never said we weren't. Our world abides by some rules and your father was well aware of those rules. His greed got the best of him and in a perfect world, his family wouldn't have suffered for his crime but in our world, that is the rule."

Tears brim in your eyes as you are overwhelmed with distraught.

"Thousands of people in district one had to die for your father's greed. It is only fair that he died. We didn't even make it painful and that is something our men were not blessed with." His tone becomes dark by the end.

"If you still don't believe me, I will mail you some of the investigation reports on that case. But this is as far as I'll entertain you, ___ and this is the last time I wish to see you in my premises unless I call you." Jihoon stands up, putting his hands in his pockets as you keep glaring holes into the ground.

"One final piece of advice, if you aren't serious about my brother, leave him." His words make you look up at him. "Me and Seokmin don't talk to each other anymore but for you, he contacted me after years, leaving behind his pride. He seems to have serious feelings about you. If you don't feel that way about him, leave. You got what you wanted."

Did you? Did you really get what you wanted?

"Goodbye." He puts on his shades and strides out of the garden, his bodyguards trailing after him as you are left alone with your thoughts and the tea which has now gone cold.

You get back into Dokyeom's car in silence. The man does not ask any questions or acknowledge you, mutely starting the car almost as if you are not even here.

You sit still, stuck in a trance as Jihoon's words replay in your mind over and over again. Now, you truly do not know what is the truth and what is the lie as you spiral into a dark pit of hopelessness. Could it truly be that Changkyun and his father lied to you? But why would they do that? Why would Jihoon lie to you either? He has no reason to. He is not afraid of anyone and he has no benefit from lying to you.

Your mind starts to numb from the continuous onslaught of thoughts. When you finally take a break from them and focus on your surroundings, you realize the car has come to a stop. It is parked on a small cliff that overlooks a mountain range far away. Seokmin looks at you expectantly, almost as if he is waiting for you to step out of the car. Without much thought, you do that and he follows you as you both silently tread towards a small bridge nearby. Resting against it, you take in the view for a few minutes, the man next to you doing the same.

"I heard you don't speak to your brother anymore." You decide to speak. It caught you off guard when Jihoon first mentioned it but you have been too preoccupied with other worries to address it. It is making sense to you now as to why you could not find anything at his house.

After a moment, his soft voice floats through the silence. "I used to be really close with my brother. I looked up to him ever since I was a child. In a world as grim as ours, he was a source of hope and a shelter for me." He breathes, his eyes focused ahead, clouded with memories. "It was a given that he was going to be the next don since he was the oldest but he always told me that I'd be a better leader, that I should be prepared to take over if anything were to happen to him. Sometimes, it felt as if he trusted me more than he trusted himself and I didn't want to let him down."

Seokmin comes to a pause as his gaze shifts from staring straight ahead to coming lower and lower, finally stopping at his shoes. With his head hanging low and a dejected posture, he whispers. "Everything changed after that war. Our father died along with so many of our men. The bloodshed was too much for me. I tried to suck it in by telling myself that I will overcome this. I will get used to it but the thing was, I didn't want to. I didn't want to get used to the violence, to the bloodshed, to that life and finally, after killing your father and taking away your sister, I gave up."

There is a heavy pause in the air. Your breath is trapped in your lungs as you watch him, waiting eagerly for his next words, urging him to continue while failing to find your voice.

"That night, I told hyung I was going to leave. I was going to denounce everything. My title, my inheritance, everything. My final gesture of loyalty and love for him was to aid him in killing the man that caused all the mess but my brother...He was...livid. He punched me, yelled at me and finally begged me not to leave. When I still said no he looked at me for a long moment." His breath shudders as he pauses shortly.

"I remember it so vividly. His face went completely blank as he ordered his men to escort me out, not even saying goodbye or looking back. That night I left and I never saw him again until...today. To the members of District 1, it was like the Lee family expanding their territory by having me step into the world of art under a new name. You also thought the same but now, you know the truth."

His eyes finally move as he shifts his position, leaning against the edge of the rail to look at you.

"Our world isn't fair, ___ and you cannot judge our actions based on the laws of the normal world. I do not like bloodshed or violence but I've realised that sometimes it is necessary to keep the balance. Killing your father was such a moment and—" he pauses, his brows furrowing as he looks at you desperately, almost like he's in pain as he searches for the right words.

"I do not regret it. I regret a lot of things but do not regret his death. I'm sorry that you lost your father and I'm sorry that you had a tough life. More than anything else, I'm sorry that you harboured all these negative feelings inside you only to realise that the truth was something else entirely. I'm sorry it had to be like this, ___."

You swallow, blinking to hold back tears. His eyes shine, mirroring yours as you both stare at each other in silence. You want to scream, yell at the top of your lungs that he is lying but you know that if you open your mouth, only sobs will come out. So you opt for watching Seokmin in silence as a gust of cool breeze flows by, messing your hair while you pray that it takes away your despair along with it.

"I'm going to leave you alone now. I'm sure you need some time to process everything. I just wanted to say my part." He whispers, slowly taking steps away. He pauses for a beat on his way to see if you say anything but you keep staring at the sky as if hypnotised. As his footsteps get farther away and the car's engine roars to life, your tears fall, cascading down your cheeks in endless streams.

-

Sleep doesn't come easily to you that night. With the rise of the sun, you get some shut eye before waking up and lying in your bed for hours, sinking deep into the hollow in your chest that feels like it's devouring you whole. Beside you, your phone rings multiple times with Changkyun's calls but you ignore them, not prepared to face him, not prepared to confront your best friend that he has been lying to you. When the growls of your stomach finally grow too loud for you to tolerate, you get up to eat something.

Inside your large house, you float around like a ghost, the emptiness and coldness of the structure mirroring how you feel on the inside. Your brain is too broken to think yet thoughts overflow, numbing you.

As you eat some cereal you finally decide to check your phone and you see Changkyun's message.

I dropped by your house this morning. You didn't open and you are not picking up.

Come to the seaport when you see this. We need to talk.

Your first reaction is to put your phone face down, ignoring the text. But as time ticks by and you see the afternoon sun going lower and lower in the sky, you change your mind. You need to talk to him. You deserve to know the truth from his mouth. Besides, the sooner you get this over with the better.

Maybe it's finally time to retire to a city by the beach, you think to yourself as you drive to the seaport.

-

The wind is high and the sun is about to disappear beneath the horizon when you reach the port. Parking your car, you walk along the edge of the platform, letting the cold her blow into your face as you watch the ships nearby get loaded with containers. As you stop to watch the sunset, you soon hear footsteps behind you and years of familiarity let you know it's Changkyun.

Sure enough, a few seconds later he comes to stand next to you.

"I have been trying to reach you all morning."

"Hm."

Your response probably comes unexpected to him as he shifts his position, turning to look at you, eyes intensely boring into you.

A gust of a particularly strong wind flows, disrupting your hair, covering your face with a few strands, almost as if shielding you from his scrutiny.

"Well?" He prods. You remain silent, staring ahead, racking your brain for the right words to start this conversation.

"___, what did that murderer say?" He asks again, his pitch rising.

"Not what I expected to hear." You give in with a sigh, turning your head to look at him in the eye. Changkyun's eyes widen just a fraction, a look of alarm settling on his face.

"I think we were not completely innocent, either." There's a coldness in your voice but he misses it, hissing. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

You tell him how the meeting with Jihoon went before posing the million dollar question. "Is that really the truth, Changkyun?"

With every word leaving your lips, you see his expression change, going from disbelief to betrayal to anger and then, to guilt.

A silence falls as you wait and watch him, holding your breath as his head hangs low, his hair covering his face as he stares at the ground. The remnants of your hope fade away with every passing second.

"Tell me the truth, Kyun! Did my father really gamble away the money?" Your voice is a desperate plea.

"So what if he did!" He scowls at you.

Your whole body freezes as your fears get confirmed. It takes a good moment for you to speak. "Why did you and your father lie to me? You said he was completely innocent, that he did nothing wrong yet got murdered by Ji—"

"For revenge! I lied so that we could take revenge!"

"Revenge for what!" You cry, frustrated. "You and I know very well what the rules are in this world. You would not spare me either if I did to you what my father did!"

"They took your sister, ___. God knows what they did—"

"She's alive." You whisper.

Changkyun's eyes widen, his mouth opening to say something yet failing to do so. He brushes a frustrated hand through his hair, exhaling loudly as he processes the information.

"What is the plan now?" He asks, his voice muted, looking at the ground.

"What do you mean what's the plan!" You cry. "Did you not hear me? There is no plan, Kyun. This is as far as I can go!"

"You do not mean that, ___!" His voice booms, eyes wide with rage. "They killed your father, ruined his empire, ruined every one of our fucking lives! They have your sister locked away for fucks sake!"

You say the words you never thought you would. "My father did not have an empire. What he had was a gambling addiction and a business built on a house of cards." Your voice grows meek, eyes shining with tears of pain and exhaustion. "As for my sister," you take in a deep breath. "Jihoon said he would make her write me a letter. He said she has reasons for hiding but she is safe. I have decided to trust his words for now."

"You—" Changkyun looks at you, baffled. "You are a fucking coward, ___! What about the work we put on all these years? What about us? What about my father? Who's going to avenge him!"

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. Blinking back tears, you try to compose yourself by taking in a deep breath. "I had a harsh wake up call that made me realize that all these years you were lying to me and using me to quench your bloodthirst. Who's going to avenge your father? Maybe you, if you are crazy but not me. His addiction led him astray and he committed suicide. What is there to avenge?"

"___! He ended up like that because the Lees killed your father and ruined our business!" He's like a madman as he steps closer to you, yelling. You yell back, "Just stop it, Changkyun! What do you want me to do, huh? March into Jihoon's house and start firing? Do you know the levels of security that place has? Whatever men we have, he has ten times more and I do not want my team to walk into a suicide mission without any cause. And most importantly, I will not jeopardise the safety of my sister! Jihoon knows her whereabouts and I need him if I want to see my sister again!"

"You... you—" Changkyun has turned red with fury as his words fail him.

You do not like how this conversation is going and your exhaustion makes you take a step back.

"We were carrying their sins with us but I have realised, we don't need to. Our parents...they made their decisions and paid the price for it. Let it end with them, please. I don't want to drag this any more. I am tired, Kyun." You whisper, praying the words to reach him.

Years of hunting and planning the destruction of one man has left you tired to your bones along with a general disdain for the world you have been living in. You were alone all along, chasing a ghost.

It is time to stop.

"No. You are not tired. You are a coward. A brainwashed coward." Changkyun sneers, venom dripping from his eyes.

"If that's what you would like to believe, then so be it." You conclude, not finding the energy to argue with him anymore. Your indifference irks him as he scowls at you, his hands clenched into fists.

You announce. "I am going to retire. You can take over from here on but I suggest you look into doing something new. Our business—"

"Don't you fucking dare give me advice!" His voice booms as he charges towards you. In the blink of an eye, he grabs you by the collars, livid. "Don't utter a single fucking word, you traitor! You fucking liar! You got some dick and decided to switch sides huh!" He seethes, gripping your collars tight and violently shaking you. The headache you already had intensifies but that isn't the thing that's hurting you.

His words hurt. Despite his lies, you considered him your best friend for the past six years. And maybe it's the attachment or the nostalgia of all these years that prevents you from fighting back.

You are done.

You have done enough fighting for a lifetime.

Mean words roll off Changkyun's tongue as he pushes you to the ground in a fit of rage, throwing his legs over your torso as he wraps his arms around your neck.

The next moment there is a click of a gun and you manage to peek over Changkyun's shoulder to find Seokmin standing behind him, pointing a revolver at the back of his head.

Your breath catches in your throat.

What the hell is he doing here?

Changkyun's grip on your throat loosens when he feels the presence behind him as he attempts to turn around. However, Seokmin presses the nozzle of the gun harder into his head, hissing. "Let her go. Now."

"Changkyun, please. Stop." You whisper, finally finding your voice. You do not like the look in Seokmin's eyes, something you've never seen before, something lethal and untamed and paired with the gun in his hand, you do not trust what he might do.

"Speak of the devil." Changkyun scoffs, looking at you, still holding a steady grip on your neck. "The boyfriend is here to save the day."

"Let. Her. Go." Seokmin repeats.

Changkyun looks torn, fury blazing in his eyes while also being aware of the gun being pointed at his head. With a frustrated grunt, he loosens his grip on your throat and you use that fraction of a second to tackle him by grabbing his arms and pinning him to the ground as you come on top. "Stop it, Kyun." Your plea is a whisper that is met with eyes full of wrath.

The next second Seokmin abruptly tugs you behind by your arm as he takes a step forward, becoming a barrier between you and Changkyun. The gun is still in his hand, pointing towards your friend.

"Seokmin put the gun down. It's fine." You try to step forward and pry the weapon out of his hand but he doesn't let you, holding you behind protectively with an arm outstretched.

"You may trust him, but I don't," Seokmin replies, eyes fiercely trained on Changkyun who has sat up. His eyes are equally furious with an underlying hint of challenge, as if he's daring Seokmin to shoot.

And he just might.

"For fucks sake, both of you! Enough!" You holler, clutching onto Seokmin to drag him further away from Changkyun who slowly stands up and brushes the dust off of him before looking at you with a deathly stare. Seokmin's grip on your arm tightens, the gun still in his hand but not pointed at him now.

You can almost physically feel the air thicken with tension.

"Don't try to contact me, ___. If I see your face ever again, there will be a bullet hole between your eyes." Changkyun grits out, sparing one last look of scorn at you before marching away.

With the kaleidoscope of colours of the dusk sky, you watch your best friend of years walk away, experiencing heartbreak and a weird relief at the same time.

Silence settles with the sun dipping below the horizon. Seokmin let's go of you, putting some distance between your bodies. Your eyes meet his as you exchange a silent look full of turbulent emotions.

Emotions you can't quite name yet feel overwhelmed with.

"How did you find me?" Your soft inquiry breaks the silence. He removes his gaze from you and looks at the ground. "Went to your place this afternoon. As I was pulling up I saw your car leave and I just...followed you."

"Why?"

"I... don't know. My gut told me I should." He replies calmly.

You sigh as another beat of silence fills the air. The sky is now fully dark, spread wide with different shades of purple. The wind has gotten significantly colder and you feel like if you stay out too long, it will settle into your bones.

Like the echoing coldness in your heart.

"You should not have interrupted. I was dealing with him."

Seokmin frowns. "Dealing with him? By lying still and letting him choke you?"

"Like I said—"

"Forget that,'' Seokmin interrupts you with a huff. "I went to your place because I had to tell you something." You look at him inquisitively as he fishes out something from the breast pocket of his trench coat.

Extending his hand towards yours, he pushes something into your palm.

A ticket.

"What is this?" You find yourself asking.

"Remember how you said you wanted to go to a place by the sea." He begins, his voice soft like his gaze. "Well, this is it. Now that everything is over, you can go and live by the beach. This cruise leaves tomorrow afternoon. It'll take a few days to reach Barcelona."

You look at the little piece of paper in your hand, letting his words wash over you.

"Think of this as an apology for everything. For what me and my family put you through." He adds when you don't reply.

"I see." Your voice is almost inaudible.

Seokmin says nothing for a few moments, as if waiting for you to speak but when you don't, he continues. "I am going as well. To Barcelona, I mean."

You move his gaze to him and blink inquisitively.

"I felt like taking a break after everything. I haven't been on a vacation for a very long time. I, too, wanted to see the ocean. When I got tickets, I thought I'd get one for you. We don't have to go together or see each other if you decide to go, that is..." He trails off.

You gaze at him for a while, memorising his features. Swallowing a sudden lump in your throat, you force a smile and give him a shaky nod.

"Well, then. I'll get going." He takes a few steps back, rubbing his palms together.

"Bye."

"If you don't come tomorrow, this is goodbye, no?" He asks as he continues to take small steps away from you, still facing you.

"I guess so." You reply. He stops and takes a long look at you before saying. "It was really nice knowing you, ___. Despite our history, despite the short time, I don't regret meeting you and... loving you." The last two words fade into a whisper, making you doubt if he even said them.

You don't get a chance to reply. You don't even get a chance to wholly process his words before he gives a wave, a small smile on his face before jogging away.

You stay rooted to your spot.

I don't regret meeting you and loving you.

-

The sun is shining stronger than any other afternoon when you step out of the taxi with nothing but a small bag pack on your shoulders. Receiving the boarding pass, you walk into the deck which is now empty because the ship is set to leave in just five minutes.

It is not fully empty, however, because one person stands, looking anxious, his eyes skirting around wildly.

When his eyes land on you, a smile of relief seems to appear on his face, triggering the corners of your lips to rise slightly as well. In silence, you walk to him.

"You came." His voice sounds glad but also as if he is trying to school his excitement.

"Did not want to waste a free ticket." You shrug, looking away.

Seokmin nods. "Right. Well, you are just on time."

"I know." There's a pause for a second as he looks like he wants to say something. A staff gives out the final boarding call which makes you continue your way into the cruise, followed by Seokmin.

Once you are boarded, you walk towards the front of the vessel, glad that it is not too crowded. The whistle of the cruise booming in the air signals the start of its journey as the sunlight and the warm breeze kiss your face.

"I'm glad you decided to come," Seokmin says, making you turn around to look at him. In the soft glow of the sun and the wind playing with his hair, he looks breathtaking.

After a moment, you whisper. "Me too."

Giving you a nod and a friendly smile, he walks away with his suitcase into the upper deck and out of sight while you stand and watch him go, the sun warming your skin.

-

1 month later

The evening air has a slight chill, not uncomfortable but just pleasant. You walk barefoot on the sand, hands crossed over your chest as your feet carry you down the edge of the ocean with practised ease. Around you, people enjoy the beach after a hectic day, children playing around laughing, parents taking videos, friends flying kites, couples walking hand in hand. The sound of the waves crashing to the shore along with the remnants of orange hues in the sky sets up a wonderful atmosphere, which, after almost a month, you have become used to but certainly not bored of.

You have never felt so much at peace.

This getaway was truly what you needed as you learned to spend time by yourself, alone with your thoughts, isolated from the world yet watching it pass by. It has been a palliative experience so far. You came to terms with your life, your past, your actions and your feelings for a certain individual.

Just one day into your getaway, a letter was brought to your room by a hotel staff and upon opening it, you realised Jihoon kept his promise.

It was a handwritten letter from your sister, along with a picture of her, sitting next to a large painting that she created. She looks different, not how you remember her, a different glow on her face that you did not remember because she was almost always melancholic.

You now feel a little guilty because you never asked her why.

Dear ____.

It has been a long while, no? I am sorry for being out of touch. It is unforgivable, I know but I finally found the courage to write to you after you came to visit Jihoon. When we were first separated something was chasing me that made me want to run away from everything. I put off connecting to you for your own good when I heard you were living with Changkyun and his father and just like that, years had passed. I occasionally looked into your whereabouts and I knew you were doing fine but I never found it in me to get rid of the guilt and just write to you.

I tried hard not to show it but life was not so kind to me before the last six years and getting taken away from our dad was probably the best thing for me.

It is a story for another day and there are still demons that I need to defeat. After that I will come to see you and ask for forgiveness. Until then, live well and rest easy knowing that I have been doing better for the past few years.

Your sister.

Reading the letter was bittersweet, the first emotion invoked within you was hurt and longing as you shed a few tears seeing your sister's picture, mused about the old days and wondered what she went through all by herself.

Initially, you had thought of writing back a reply but you decided against it because the words you wish to utter can not be confined within a paper. Instead, you sent out a prayer to the universe, hoping you would get to meet her sometime soon.

From a distance, someone calls out your name, calling your attention back to the present and you turn instinctively to find Seokmin jogging towards you through the sand, two cones of ice creams in his hands. A smile appears on your lips as you take a few steps towards him, reaching your arms out. Wrapping him in a soft hug, you plant a sweet kiss on his lips before taking an ice cream from his hand and reaching for the other as well.

"Both of these are for me right?"

The poor man looks conflicted. "Well, uhm, no but if you want you can have them."

You snort a burst of laughter. "You can have it, Min. Maybe save a bite for me."

Hand in hand, you two walk a little closer to the shore and sit down, letting the flow of the waves occasionally touch your feet.

Your relationship with Seokmin developed surprisingly but quickly after coming to Barcelona. Initially, you did not expect anything, too overridden with the guilt of your tricks and the history of your families to make any attempt to talk to him. Two weeks went by as you did not see each other, except for occasionally bumping into each other at the beach or the hotel lobby because as fate would have it, you two shared the same hotel. It was hard and uncomfortable, pretending not to see him when you ran into him and it would make you wonder if he felt the same.

It all changed one night when you were returning to the hotel after dinner and some drinks. Tipsy and wobbly, you focused extra hard to not bump into anyone as you made your way into the lobby of the hotel.

And there you bumped into him, quite literally.

"Hey there, easy," The man's hands hold your shoulders to stop you from falling on your ass. You look up and find Seokmin. Thinking that you are seeing things, you blink two more times before coming to terms with the fact that it was indeed Seokmin in front of you.

"Someone had a lot to drink," He says as you try to regain your balance. "Can you go to your room by yourself? Should I come with you?"

With a huff, you push him away, trying to appear independent as you take wobbly steps. Seokmin decides to escort you, as he follows closely behind all the way, one hand outstretched, ready to catch you in case you fall.

When you reach your room, Seokmin assists you in unlocking the door. Once the job is done successfully, you pause in the entryway to look back at him. He stands there, somewhat awkward and you consider whether to shut the door on his face or ask him to come in. Neither of them sounds like a good idea but still, you kick the door to open it a little wider and murmur as you walk in, "Come in, if you want."

You don't look behind as you head for the small fridge to retrieve a water bottle and chug it down. Seokmin steps in, a bit hesitant, closing the door behind him. You take a seat on the edge of your bed as Seokmin gingerly sits down on the couch placed in front.

A small moment of silence passes by as you two observe each other. He is dressed in running gear and judging from the pristine condition of his hair, you assume that he was on his way for a late night jog.

"We keep bumping into each other," Seokmin tries to break the silence. You nod, "Must be fate." You are not quite sure if you said those words genuinely or sarcastically. Seokmin does not reply, probably thinking that you are being sarcastic.

You find yourself asking, "How have you been?"

"Good."

"How long do you plan to stay here?"

"A couple more weeks maybe."

"Are you having fun?''

"Yes."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

He takes a moment before replying, "Not really. I'm more worried if I am making you uncomfortable."

"Hm," you hum and with that, the conversation dies down. You have a lot to say on your mind but your mind is not in its top condition right now as you have had a few drinks, which makes it a bit harder to arrange your thoughts and address them accordingly.

"I should get going, I suppose," Seokmin says, rubbing his palms on his thighs.

"Wait," the words slip out of your mouth in urgency and you are not even sure why you are telling him so.

The man blinks at you.

"I—" You don't know what you wish to say. "I guess I just wanted to say...I'm sorry."

Seokmin appears a little surprised hearing you say that as he sits up straighter. You huff out a long breath, looking down at the empty water bottle in your hand. "What I'm trying to say is that...I am sorry that I played with your feelings. I- I am sorry for using you. You are a nice person, professor."

You calling him by his old title makes him smile as he says. "I just realized I missed you calling me by that name."

"Professor?"

"Yes, ___?"

A small smile appears on your face as well as you bite your lip to stifle it.

"___?" Seokmin's soft voice makes you look at him. He looks unsure but also hopeful. "Hypothetically, if I told you that I still miss you and that I still long for you, what would you say?"

"Your breath stalls as you watch him, wide eyed. There is a sudden lump in your throat that makes it impossible for you to speak. You are scared you might start crying if you do so. Still, you breathe, "Hypothetically, I would say that I feel the same too.''

"And would it be a lie this time, my beautiful liar?"

You swallow as you watch him take slow steps towards you. When he stands right in front of you, his hands gently cup your cheeks, carefully tilting your head upwards so that you can meet his eyes. They shine with emotions unsaid, just like yours and the look on his face makes your heart soar, makes you forget everything, makes you want to be selfish.

"No," you whisper.

You get to see the slightest tilt of his lips to a smile as he leans down and presses his lips to yours, softly at first before you eagerly chase his lips and he reciprocates, moving the hair away from your face and holding your neck with one hand and stroking your cheek with the other.

The kiss is full of passion but also slow and sweet, an addictive combination that tells you that you are done for. With another kiss on your forehead, Seokmin lets go, stepping away from you.

"Will I see you tomorrow morning or will you declare this as a drunk mistake and start hiding from me?" He asks cheekily.

You can't help a smile. "I will expect you to pick me up at 9 am sharp. We will have breakfast together."

You will take it slow this time.

"Whatever you wish," He flashes his beautiful smile, heading for the door. As he is about to close it behind him, he turns his head around. "Goodnight, ___. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, Seokmin."

-

Fast forward a couple of weeks later, you two moved out of the hotel and instead rented a small villa near the coast for an indefinite amount of time. You have no plans of going back home but you know that Seokmin's nature of work will require him to leave sometimes which you are fine with.

"So, I got an invitation to a seminar in London." Seokmins words jolt you out of the thoughts running in your head. "I don't think they are going to accept a no." He adds sadly.

"You don't have to say no." You reply. "Just go and attend it. Share your expertise with the world."

"Mhmm," he hums, looking at you in a contemplating gaze. "Would you consider coming with me?"

You blink. "Well..."

"It's a one-day seminar. We can stay a couple of days more and look around the city. It would be fun, I think."

You consider his words. It would be fun, actually.

You have no reason to hold yourself back from having new experiences now. You have punished yourself enough.

"It's a good idea." You reply with a soft smile that makes your boyfriend grin as he puts his arm around your shoulder, gently pulling your body closer to him. You let your head fall on his shoulder as you watch the sky grow dark.

No more lies now, it's just peace.

Your story that began with lies painted in red will end in red too, but this time the red will paint love.

A/N: Thanks for reading it till the end! I would like to apologize for the delay as this was supposed to be posted two weeks earlier but yk, life happened. The other two stories of this series are in the making but the next story will not be out before May. Also, I am planning on making a standalone for Jihoon's story which will not exactly be a part of this series but it's in the same timeline. It will be posted after all the stories of this series are completed. Anyways, stay safe and toodles!

Also, please leave a comment and reblog! It really motivates me to create more!

© startlightxsvt 2024 | All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, repost, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.

[moltengoldveins]

@clingyduoapologist made a really cool “what if DSMP were a stage play” post and basically the instant I saw it I was struck by the muse but I don’t want to just chain reblog the dang thing or make one huge reblog with all my thoughts so instead here are all my thoughts on this concept

i don’t think it’s a musical. I think the tone of the story doesn’t fit. But if it were, it would have a Lot of scenes of unsung dialogue, and that dialoge? Would be rhythmic poetry. It’s Shakespeare Appreciation Time baby.

i do however think there would be a live score and an orchestra. A lot of the music would need to be recorded but there’s at least be a few musicians.

different characters speak in different poetic styles at different times to communicate character and plot development.

to elaborate on that: Characters switch from loose ABBA or ABAB rhyme schemes and vaguely rhythmic meter when chatting back and forth to strict perfect iambic pentameter for tense scenes or political speeches.

Techno speaks exclusively in unrhyming dactylic hexameter, an extremely common poetic form for Greek and Latin poetry. It’s what the Iliad was written in. This has the interesting effect of making Techno sound, at first glance, unpoetic. His speech doesn’t rhyme, and doesn’t follow a common English rhythm scheme, so it wouldn’t immediately register as structured. However, dactylic hexameter is actually significantly harder to write in English than expected because of our syllable stress patterns. Speaking like that would be, objectively, a sign of extreme intelligence, but could easily be overlooked as coarse uncultured behavior.

Techno’s chorus - composed of audience members, background extras, and people (in safety harnesses) sitting in the theater rafters - speak largely in Greek and Classical Chinese, quoting sections of the Art of War and Homer’s work. The major exceptions to this are ‘Blood for the Blood god,’ ‘no,’ and ‘do it.’ They all wear a hat or some form of headband that has a glowing LED eye, hidden, but activated when they speak. The audience plants are all in dark clothes, and when the lights go down they don medical masks/sunglasses. Anything to obscure their faces.

The Chorus, a group of robed masked people who broke the fourth wall and often entered the audience, was a vital part of early Greek theatre. I am an intolerable nerd, and the thought of sitting in a dark theatre only to hear an low distorted voice beside you start to comment on the play as a whole choir of voices echo around you, then turning to see your seat neighbor is a masked person with a glowing red eye in your forehead? Literally incredible.

Dream is the only character dressed in even remotely modern clothes.

Dream is first seen as someone (again, in modern clothes) sneaking around backstage in a black hoodie: most of the audience probably assumes he’s a stagehand and not meant to be seen. Then, at some point, he moves from behind a set piece and enters the scene as an actual character, revealing his mask.

interestingly, this is really similar to what I believe is a bit of myth about why ninjas are dressed in all black in modern media. They wouldn’t have been irl, they would’ve dressed like civilians. But stagehands in Japanese theatre would dress in all-black, and were often completely visible onstage moving sets - it was common courtesy to ignore them. Then one day some playwright had the brilliant idea of having one of the stagehands enter the story as an assassin, and suddenly every actor in all-black was a threat. For the life of me I can’t remember where I read that but it’s a cool thought :D

Dream canonically can interact with set pieces, lighting, and curtains.

Dream actively directs lighting in scenes he is not in, sitting above the stage kicking his feet.

Dream is often used to hand off props to characters instead of having them pull them from a pocket and pretend they were pulled from their ‘inventory.’ This begins to get confusing when Dream is acknowledged later on as the he person giving, say, TNT to Wilbur, or wither skulls to Techno.

characters address the audience as ‘Chat,’ (English’s first fourth-person pronoun my beloved) almost constantly, especially for comedic purposes- most of their monologues are addressed directly to the audience as well. For Wilbur, it’s a sign of instability when he stops addressing ‘Chat’ and start addressing the sides or back of the stage.

philza enters from the lower audience, right by the stage, probably after pooping up from the orchestra pit and taking a reserved seat halfway through so no one sees the wings.

Tommy has by far the least structured or rhyming dialogue - if it weren’t for how carefully crafted it was it would sound like normal prose.

Tommy speaks to the audience by FAR the most. Wilbur only addresses them when soliloquizing. Techno barely addresses them at all: they address him. Ranboo speaks to the audience only when alone, and it’s usually phrased like he’s writing in his memory journal. Tommy speaks to the audience at first like a loud younger brother. As he gets older, it sounds more and more like a plea for help, a prayer for intervention that will never come. Exile is one long string of desperate begging aimed our way.

Tommy stops speaking to the audience so much after Doomsday. He starts again when Dream is imprisoned. He stops for good when he dies in there, beaten, alone.

Sam and the Warden are meant to be played by different actors, ideally siblings or fraternal twins. They wear identical stage makeup and costumes, but the difference is there. None of the characters acknowledge this.

the Stage would need to be absolutely massive and curve almost halfway around the central audience, largely because it should be able to be split at times into two separate stages to show different things happening at the same time. This could possibly also work if there were two stages, but getting people to easily turn from one stage to the other without loosing sight of what was happening would be rough.

Doomsday taking advantage of the scaffolding in the rafters and using them as the ‘grid’ for the tnt droppers.

actual trained dogs for Doomsday my beloved. Would cost a fortune but could you imagine.

the entire revolution arc ripped off Hamilton, we all know that, I think we can afford to have a stagehand step forward in that frozen moment in time when Tommy and Dream have that duel, grab the arrow, and carry it slowly across the stage right into Tommy’s eye. For morale.

throughout the execution scene Techno keeps slipping out of poetic meter, especially when he sees/is worried about Phil. After the totem (which would be freaking amazing as some sort of stage effect with like lights and red and green streamers or smthn dude-) he stops speaking in poetry. The scene with Quackity is entirely spoken dialogue. Chat is silent. It’s only when he gets back and sees evidence that his house has been tampered with that Chat starts up again (kill, blood, death, hunt, hunt, hunt-) and he starts speaking in rhythm again.

Every canon death, Dream marks a tally on something in the background. Maybe it’s in his arm? Like a personal scorecard. Or maybe it’s on the person themselves, a little set of three hearts he marks through with a dry-erase marker or something.

phil and techno have a lot more eastern design elements and musical influences than the rest of the cast, except for Techno’s war theme which is just choir, bagpipes, and some sort of rhythmic ticking or thumping. Phil’s also got a choir sting but it’s a lot harsher, the ladies are higher and them men lower, and the chords are really dissonant (think murder of crows)

Tommy’s theme has a lot of drums, but its core is actually a piano melody. The inverse of Tommy’s theme is Tubbo’s, but Tubbo’s is usually played on a ukulele. Wilbur is guitar, obv, and Niki’s is on viola.

Quackity is a little saxophone lick. He and Schlatt both have a strong big band/jazz influence.

None of the instruments that play dream’s theme play anywhere else in the music. I’m thinking harp, music box, and some kind of low wind instrument.

[dramaticallytotal]

TDWT Headcanons Pt. 2

• Trent is kind of nervous around his former Killer Grip Action teammates, even though he apologized to them already. He knows they forgive him but he still feels wary.

• During the Yukon challenge, Noah got so cold, and of course, Alejandro noticed and made him take his top shirt. Noah kept trying to tell him he had hand warmers in his utility belt, but hey, a hot guy wants to give him his shirt? Who is Noah to refuse?

• Owen and Noah tried to smuggle the corgis onto the plane after the London challenge but were unsuccessful, which made Noah even more upset when he was eliminated. He could accept being thrown out if he had gotten to sneak in the corgis. Without them, it seemed so stupid. Everything is better with dogs.

• Eva and Izzy give Alejandro the shovel talk, and he is properly terrified of them. Once Noah was eliminated, he had to hide from Eva for a good while.

• Trent, Harold, and Cody would sometimes sing and work on songs together until Sierra started being a big creep about it.

• Everyone looks into the cameras like they're in the Office when someone is being stupid or they are annoyed. Harold was the first one who did it on the island, and Noah did it around the same time, and then the others just kind of picked it up.

• Despite what the viewers think, they do stay the places they land for a little bit. That way, they don't waste fuel. Sometimes, they get to stay in hotels if Chris is feeling generous, but for the most part, they just stay in the plane. They can explore a bit but only in designated areas.

• Team E-Scope and Owen all sleep in a huddle on the plane. It's kind of like a cuddle puddle. At first, Team Amazon put up a bit of a fit about it. Especially Heather, since she sees it a fraternizing with the enemy, but when faced with the collective glares of Eva, Izzy, Noah, and surprisingly, Owen, the complaints stopped.

• Trent starts to bond with Team Chris, and he's super excited but scared. But he does get suspicious of Alejandro because of all the flirting. It's just not the done thing in his book, and it makes him uncomfortable. He doesn't want to doubt his teammate but he can't help but feel like Alejandro's intentions are anything but good.

• He doesn't voice those thoughts as he doesn't want to ruin the dynamic of his team or start waves if there really are none.

• Izzy isn't actually as crazy as she pretends to be. This isn't a new headcanon for the fandom, but it's one of my favorites.

• Izzy, Courtney, Alejandro, Heather, Ezekiel, Bridgette, Cody, Harold, Trent, Duncan, and surprisingly Noah can all sing and sing well but Noah and Duncan don't like to sing. Duncan because he only likes to sing specific genres and not all willy-nilly. Noah because, look, he's got a reputation of hating things or not putting in effort, he's not gonna change.

• One of his sisters, Noelle, was and is in theatre. So she always pulled him to practice songs, scenes, etc. Unless she just wanted to sing and wanted a partner. Don't ask Noah how many times he played the role of Christine because Noelle always wanted to be the Phantom.

• Sometimes, when the passengers (Chris calls them this instead of campers or contestants) get homesick. Those with siblings unofficially like to get together and talk about their siblings and what they miss about them. DJ misses his brothers almost as much as he misses his momma.

• There's a smaller group who get together to shit talk their siblings and how glad they are to be away from them. Heather leads, of course.

• Gwen and Trent start to bond and talk again during the challenge in the Yukon. They do try to keep it low-key because Gwen fears that Trent's team will hold his past actions against him and vote him off preemptively. Trent because he doesn't want Heather to spin it in some way that makes Gwen or himself look bad.

• And also because they don't want Sierra's attention. She tends to go...crazy about couples.

• Eva has a hard time not stopping and helping Noah, Izzy, and Owen if she sees them struggling. Those are her best friends, and she's ride or die. She does restrain herself though for the competition because she does not want to be sent home early again. She is planning to either get to the merge with Team E-Scope + O or make sure at least one of them do.

• Chris buys a magnet from everywhere they land because he knows Chef collects them for his fridge. He can't help but indulge his husband, and he loves the little smile he gets.

• Alejandro is trying to limit his flirting to his competition, but he really can't help but flirt with Noah because he likes his reactions and wit that he throws at him. He also can't help but seek out Noah when he is flirting with the competition to see if he's watching or jealous.

Last Part Next Part

[devoutekuna]

Daddy daughter date

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

A/N- Gojo's part is from my previous blog

Sukuna-

He didn't actually count this as a daddy daughter date, since he was just left at the house with her, opting to head to a restaurant since his cook wasn't in. "I want that daddy" pointing to the dish on the menu, her face gleaming with happiness as she wore her favourite red dress and matching shoes. Her father did seem as happy though, slouching in his chair as he waited for the waiter. "Anything else?" He asked as she carried on pointing. "And that, and that" he was gonna order it all, he hoped that she inherited his love for eating infinite amounts.

Soon as the meals came precut, she was already devouring it, napkin tucked into her dress so that she didn't get it all messy, especially as it was a gift from her father. Hands getting all grubby from the sauces, she clearly took her father's mannerisms when it came to eating. Watching as she ate with no elegance, a mirk sneaking onto his face as he also stuffed down his food but with a little more patience.

Nanami-

Nanami loves the countryside, so when he had the opportunity to go there, of course he took his family. His daughter being the main priority since you were still trying to get used to the place.

Sat outside on the various fields, blanket peg ed down to stop it from blowing away, with the help of their bodies and the picnic basket sat ontop. "Cake!" Pointing to the small unopened box full of Madeira cake. "How about a sandwich first?" Grabbing one out as he handed her the wrapped up cheese sandwich. "Can I have cake after?" Asking before she took it, she wanted to save room in her little stomach for the desert. Nodding in response. "If you eat your fruit too" throwing the small packet of varied fruit towards her lap.

Watching as she scoffed the poor sandwich and fruit down, she sure was eager to get to that cake. He loved spending time with his daughter, but sometimes she rushed it, especially when it came to homemade food.

Geto-

He isnt going to take his daughter out to a place where most non sorcerer hang, opting for a peaceful time inside his house, it was big enough to fit all his needs and wants, so why would he even try to leave it. Resting on floor as he waited for his daughter to come back with some colouring pens, he was planning on spending a day in with his daughter doing some random stuff like using the colouring books he recently bought as the cake baked. "I got them daddy!" Running as she carried the varied colours, her little dress flowing with her speed. "Don't run you may trip" laid on the floor as he sat up, his daughter plopping herself right next to his legs as she grabbed the colouring book. "I will use purple, you use red" nodding as he took the red marker, starting by running the colour along the paper.

Toji-

He's not the biggest fan of plays, he finds them boring and a waste of time, then again he wasn't into theatre in general, so he was pretty annoyed when he found out that you couldn't take his daughter to the theatre. Sat scowling at the play, he thought it was stupid but she loved it, sitting eagerly at her seat as she waited for the play to start. "Look daddy! It's starting!" Shaking his arm as she pointed to the stage lighting up with spotlights. Nodding in response, he loved to see his little girl happy. "Shhh" telling him to shush despite not even talking, trying to hold back his smirk as he used her head as an arm rest, she didn't even mind as she was too engrossed into the play.

Gojo-

Satoru adored his daughter, doing anything to make her happy even if it meant emptying his wallet for a plushies shed forget about in a matter of days. "Papa! I want it" the white haired girl pointing at the claw machine filled with marine animals plushies. Her little blue frilly dress blowing in the wind, which matched her father's zip up fleece and baggy jeans. Looking down at her as he took his hands out of his pockets.

"You want the plushie?" Confirming as he picked her up, her little hands cupping his cheek as she pointed to the specific white seal which stood out to her. "I want it! Papa" kicking her legs at his torso as she sat on his arm. "I'll try my best" smirking as he put her down, knowing that he'd get her that plushie no matter what. He was already down £20, already stressing as he tried to get that stupid plushie, if only she wasn't so demanding on which one she wanted, maybe if she chose one closer to the exit hole it would've been easier, but this one was in the very center, not even moving an inch closer as it always dropped before the exit hole was even in site.

"Are you sure you want this one?" Trying to persuade her, he was sick and tired of it, having to stand around as his daughter tugged on his jeans. Plus he was supposed to be meeting you in 15 minutes.

"I want that one! You promised." Pouting as she realised that she would never get it. "Are you really sure?" He didn't want to be doing this for so long. Nodding as she almost started to tear up, sighing as he took out another note, feeding it into the machine as he focused on the plush toy. After a grueling 20 minutes at the machine, he had finally gotten it, the way she shot up as soon as she saw the seal fall into the hole. "You did it!" Hugging his leg as she was too short to give him a proper one. Stuffing the empty wallet into his pocket as he picked up the seal, he never wanted to see that machine again, it probably gave him wrinkles from the stress.

[sirenseraph]

✷𝒦𝑒𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝑀𝒸𝒞𝑜𝓇𝓂𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝒹 𝒮/𝒪✷

- request

Masterlist

You’re the ultimate theatre kid: always humming show tunes under your breath, quoting lines from Heathers in casual conversation, and you own like three Playbill binders.

You’re constantly involved in productions; balancing school and playing the Baker’s Wife in Into the Woods while helping direct the school’s Mean Girls musical next semester.

Your passion is intense and beautifully unhinged. You go on full rants about how Matilda the Musical is peak storytelling or how Legally Blonde is criminally underrated.

You have 10 different alarms labeled “Audition in 10 minutes,” “Vocal warm-up,” and “Seriously get up, idiot.”

Kenny, the loving boyfriend that he is, finds your passion kind of fascinating, he doesn’t totally get the theatre world at first, but he loves how your face lights up when you talk about it.

He starts showing up to rehearsals “just to walk you home” but ends up sitting in the back row, watching quietly with his hood up and a smirk whenever you nail your solo. He lowkey brags about you. Like, shamelessly. “Yeah, that’s my girl on stage.”

You rope him into helping with tech crew once; he ends up in charge of fog effects and takes it way too seriously. Now he’s your unofficial fog boy and makes your dramatic entrances extra dramatic.

You don’t just talk about musicals, you infodump with emotional instability. Like, full body rants with hand gestures and voice changes. Kenny’s favorite thing is watching you passionately defend why Heathers is not about glorifying violence, it’s about power, identity, and trauma. He just watches with his chin in his hand like damn.

He brings you flowers after every show, never the same type twice, and always with a silly but still heartfelt note like “You didn’t trip this time. Proud of you.”

When you’re nervous before opening night, he kisses your forehead and goes, “You’re gonna be amazing, baby. Now go sing your little heart out.”

He starts sending you TikToks of musical theatre memes and pretends he doesn’t understand them, just to make you explain. Secretly he gets it. He gets all of it since he listens to you and made mental notes of everything, and also watched all the stuff you like just to talk about it with you.

During a particularly emotional rehearsal of Matilda, you break down because of stress, and he sneaks you offstage to breathe and just holds you until you’re okay again.

You catch him singing Legally Blonde’s “Chip on My Shoulder” under his breath while making breakfast and you’re like, “Excuse me?” and he blushes harder than ever.

The show’s over. You absolutely killed it, lead role, standing ovation, bouquet in hand, glitter still clinging to your lashes. Everyone’s at someone’s house for the cast after party. You’re curled into Kenny’s side on the couch in your crewneck and sweatpants, your voice hoarse from singing your lungs out. He’s playing with the hem of your sleeve, looking down at you.

“You were… insane. Like stupid talented. I might be in love with a Broadway legend before she’s famous.”

“I already told you, I’m going off-Broadway first. Gotta earn my trauma stripes.”

He laughs and presses a kiss to your temple.

“Fine. I’ll just be the guy in the third row with an ‘I love you’ sign.”

He’s in the audience, front row, hood down, a rare sight. You’re Elle Woods, mid-performance of So Much Better, and you glance out just for a second, and there he is, literally mouthing every word because you forced him to watch the entire musical on YouTube like five times.

After the show, you find him outside, leaning on the wall with a cocky grin.

“You’re unreal. Like, actually. I think I’m Elle-sexual now.”

You smack his arm but kiss him anyway, sweaty stage makeup and all. “You were paying attention?”

“You were wearing pink leather. Of course I was.”

You SCREAMED when you got cast as Deloris. You cried. You danced. You said, “This is my Beyoncé arc.”

You roped him into playing a background nun for the cast photos and he looked so smug in the habit. He kept calling himself “Sister Kenny” all day.

You explained the entire plot of Sister Act over breakfast once, complete with accents, and he was so obsessed that he now refers to anyone he doesn’t like as “one of those crusty choir nuns.”

You live by “What You Want.” You call it your pre-audition hype anthem. You play it before exams. Kenny once caught you screaming the rap verse in the bathroom mirror with a hairbrush mic and you threatened to break up with him if he told anyone.

He saw you do the Bend and Snap on a doorframe once and almost walked into traffic.

“What the hell was that?”

“Elle Woods culture.”

You loathe the movie version of Mean Girls with a burning passion and Kenny knows better than to bring it up.

You made a Mean Girls playlist and ranked each character’s vocal range while ranting for 45 minutes. Kenny didn’t understand a word but was fully enchanted.

Your dream role is Janis because of “I’d Rather Be Me,” and Kenny literally said, “That’s your villain origin song.” He meant it as a compliment.

You tried to teach him the Someone Gets Hurt choreo and he accidentally slapped himself in the face. “I didn’t get hurt. I gave hurt.”

i accidentally deleted this, as well as the request so i had to redo it. (crying in the clurb)

i’ve never actually seen any of these musicals before so i had to do some research.

mwah. ily all 🎀

[saintzweig]

challengers x reader halloween headcanons

– happy halloween!! i wanted to write something cute with the trio so here! (can be platonic or romantic idk) enjoy!!!

ꢾ꣒ i feel like tashi would love carnivals and horror houses, patrick would agree almost immediately but it takes a while for them to convince you and art.

ꢾ꣒ "it's literally just a decorated house with people acting like ghosts, it's not that big of a deal. here, i'll go first, okay? just stay behind me"

ꢾ꣒ tashi holds your hand and takes the lead, smiling when she feels you hide your face behind her shoulder. feeling you tense up at the smallest sounds, shielding your body during jumpscares.

ꢾ꣒ art would be screaming every second, literally crouching down and cover his ears everytime there's a jumpscare and of course patrick's there to laugh at him

ꢾ꣒ patrick would be dapping up the scare actors, "yo what's up, you see that blonde dude over there? can you follow him around and scare the shit out of him?"

ꢾ꣒ or he'd do it himself, circling back to hide behind a post then jump out to scare his poor friend. one time he accidentally scared a random child and made it cry.

ꢾ꣒ patrick would love going to drive in theatres and doing horror movie marathons. after the second movie, he'd sneak up on a few cars and jumpscare them because he's a dick.

ꢾ꣒ tashi would buy shit ton of candies to share with you and art, usually twizzlers or sour patch. she'd be focusing on the movies and talking shit about the characters and their idiocy, claiming she can do better (let's face it, she probably can)

ꢾ꣒ you and art are in the backseat, barely paying attention to the screen. you're either yapping your ass off or falling asleep, his head on your shoulder or your head on his lap while he plays with your hair.

ꢾ꣒ art loves trick or treats!!! he'd invite the group over for a sleepover on halloween night just so he can give out candies to kids in costumes (because of course no one would do that on campus dorms)

ꢾ꣒ everytime someone rings the doorbell, he'd jump up and run over to the door with a smile, gasping when he opens the door. "hey there little guy, you're spiderman?! he's my favorite superhero!!! here, take all of the candy"

ꢾ꣒ patrick would take a ghostface mask he found randomly inside the house, go outside and run after some kids. he claims halloween should be scary and kids should have the full experience.

ꢾ꣒ you and tashi would be in the kitchen baking halloween themed cookies, most of the flour is on the floor or on your face instead of the bowl.

ꢾ꣒ the four of you would pass out in the living, having ate too many sweets. you and tashi on the couch while the boys are sprawled out on the floor. the tv still on playing a random horror film.

ꢾ꣒ the three knows how much you love dressing up for parties so you start planning your costumes in advance, always having a theme because you love coordinating costumes.

ꢾ꣒ tashi would suggest sports figures (wbk), patrick wants something sexy (he wants to see you in a playboy bunny costume) and art, being the sweet boy he is, would go along with whatever you want.

ꢾ꣒ last year, you all went as shrek characters which was jokingly suggested by patrick (because you wouldn't accept his sexy nurse suggestion). tashi was fiona, art was shrek, you were lord farquaad and patrick was donkey (he got a onesie and called it a day).

ꢾ꣒ this year, you wanted to go as sanrio characters (which patrick complained about) but complied nonetheless. tashi was okay with it and art found it really cute. you dressed up as my melody, tashi as kuromi, art as pompompurin and patrick as badtz-maru

[lovelytsunoda]

kill of the night // lando norris

summary: she hates parties. especially quadrant parties hosted in large creepy mansions. at least the hot pirate hosting the party is into her, or she would have left ages ago.

pairing: lando norris x female reader

warnings: consumption of alcohol, lando cannot take anything seriously to save his life, the eerie feeling of being watched (anxiety or haunted house, you decide), pirate themed sexual innuendos, mention of spiders (arachnophobia warning!) reader has mild autism

the lights were low and the music loud as she pushed her way through the crowd, desperate for a drink and a moment of peace. the music was bad (some club mix of the rocky horror picture soundtrack) and all she wanted was for her massive headache to go away.

too bad she didn’t drink often. maybe something stronger than a hard lemonade would make this evening bearable.

she sat at the bar, feeling the eerie sensation of all eyes on her as she scanned the sea of bodies for the slew of other glittery fairy wings she had arrived with. she didn't even know some of the girls that well. all of the girls from her program had been invited, and she was trying to be a team player.

one girl was making out with a stranger, two others playing beer pong. the rest were lost to the crowd, dancing in ways that would definitely have disappointed their parents.

when the tuxedoed bartender came back with the crystal tumbler that had her vodka lemonade in it, she frowned at the tiny plastic sword, a gummy worm speared through it.

she just wanted a normal fucking drink.

sighing, she grabbed the glass and got to her feet, sending one last glance to the other girls before she started making her way towards the exit, mindful of the massive plastic wings strapped to her back. she had half a mind to just rip them off and throw them into the nearest trash can.

the outside hallway wasn't much better, and she found herself reaching into her purse for her airpods, less for music and more to just to cancel out the noise. she extracted the green plastic sword, taking the gummy worm off the plastic and dropping it into her mouth. the dj was playing ghostbusters, and she wanted nothing more than to be back home in her small, peaceful dorm, wrapped in her fleece blanket and reading 'love in the time of serial killers', or in the warm movie theatre watching 'a haunting in venice'.

instead she was here.

folding the small sword over in her hands, she grabbed her drink from the side table and made her way down the dreary hallway to get some fresh air.

the outside of the mansion was peaceful, if not a little disused. the hedges were neatly trimmed, the flowers well tended to as she sat down on a stone bench, the cold from the surface seeping in through the fabric of her dress as she took a sip of her drink.

truth be told, the peaceful atmosphere of the large, creepy mansion had been one of the few reasons she had agreed to come, living out her 'haunted mansion' fantasy: ghost who's been pining after her for centuries, the promise of eternal love. all but the evil ghost butler trying to kill her.

"the party's inside, you know!" a shout carried over the breeze, bristol accent sharp.

she yelped, dropping her drink and watching the glass shatter against flagstone.

"jesus! you can't just sneak up on people like that!" she shouted, yanking out her earbuds. "what is wrong with you, you fucking wanker!"

she got to her feet, spinning around to see who had spoken. he was tall enough (taller than her at least), dressed in a billowy white shirt and leather vest, leather breeches hugging his impressive thighs, a mane of curly brunette hair on the top of his head, and a fake sword strapped to his thigh.

at least, she hoped it was fake.

"woah, hang on." he frowned, coming closer to her. he looked like a prince, straight out of a disney movie. "i didn't mean to scare you."

could this be him? the ghost lover from her haunted mansion fantasy?

"it's fine. i guess i'm just jumpy. mansions that are almost certainly haunted will do that to a girl." she took a step back, trying to avoid the smashed glass as she turned, intending to go back to the stone bench before her wing got caught on a hedge. she cursed, resisting the urge to yank at the iridescent plastic.

"let me help." the stranger encouraged, coming closer to the hedge.

she shook her head. "it's fine, just let me take it off my back."

she gently eased out of the elastic straps securing the wings to her body, attempting to make it happen as gracefully as possible. one wing snapped back and smacked her in the face, and she tried to shake it off as she moved away, allowing them to dangle dejectedly from the hedge.

the prince came to stand beside her, his cologne overloading her senses as her reached over her to help disentangle the wings, his body heat against her back making her skin flush.

"here you go." his voice was soft as her passed her back her costume.

she could have left the wings there, she'd only paid three dollars to make them. she folded them up, placing the scratchy plastic on the stone bench before looking down at the shattered crystal.

“sorry about the glass. you’ll probably have to pay for it, being the host and all.”

“how did you know I was the host?”

her face blushed pink “havw you ever seen the haunted mansion? the original one with eddie murphy and wallace shawn?”

she gave him an opening, ready to hide her face behind her hands if it didn’t work out. there was a slight pause, and then he burst out laughing.

“you think that I’m some dead ghostly prince searching for his lost love?” he sputtered. “hate to break it to ya, tinker bell, but I’m not a prince, and I am very much alive.”

“I never said you were dead!” she crossed her arms indignantly, stomping one sneaker-clad foot against the flagstones.

chuckling, the suitor extended his hand. “I’m lando.”

“y/n.” she sighed, reaching to shake his hand. “sorry about the hostility, I just felt overstimulated in there. it’s the ‘tism in me.”

lando gestured for her to sit on one of the benches, looking out at the algae-caked fountain. it smelled earthly, yet his cologne was still all she could comprehend.

“have you had a chance to explore the house? based solely on your haunted mansion statement, I feel like that would be something you were in to.”

“it’s the only reason I came, truth be told. I hate parties, but some of the girls o study with thought it would be a good idea. what i didn’t realize was that we’d all be packed into the ballroom and pretty much the rest of the house would be off limits.”

lando laughed, straddling the bench next to her, one leg on either side. not very prince-like, if you had asked y/n. “well, I didn’t pick the venue. you can thank max and steve for that.”

“I don’t know who either of those people are.”

“I work with them in quadrant, they’re hosting this thing. I’d stepped out for a minute to take a business call.”

she snorted. “you? a business call?”

“what’s so hard to believe about that?” lando feigned offence, smacking his chest with his palm. “and why did your mind immediately go to the haunted mansion when you saw me? I was going for less master gracey and more will turner.”

“please, you’re jack sparrow at best. I can tell you bought your little pirate outfit at spirit halloween. and if my first instinct was that you were dressed as a prince, something is missing.”

she propped one leg lengthwise on the bench, tucking one sneaker-clad foot under the other, smoothing her dress over as to not give the man in front of her a glaring look at her dusty pink panties (although an intrusive thought did prompt her to wonder what would happen if she did).

“have you had a chance to explore the mansion yet?” she asked the man. well, the boy. he couldn’t have been too much older than she was.

lando shook his head, a few errant curls falling from his shaggy hair and over his eyebrows, and something about the way he shook his head to clear the curls from his eyes had her mouth watering. she wondered briefly what it would be like to kiss him.

“i saw a bit of it when we were bringing everything in. it’s a maze of service tunnels and secret doors. i actually got myself locked in a cellar.” lando laughed, and the butterflies erupted in her stomach, a giddy feeling spreading through her bones. “and that’s why ria thought it would be a good idea to cordon off most of the house. so that idiots like me didn’t get themselves locked in anywhere they couldn’t get out of.”

she raised an eyebrow, almost questioning exaclty how th man in front of her got himself locked in a cellar before she thought better of it. “so you know where all these secret passageways are?”

lando wagged his eyebrows. “is that something you’re into?”

“why do you have to say it like that?” she giggled, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth when she remembered how she usually looked when she laughed. “you make it sound weird. like a sex thing.”

“well, it’s not a sex thing,” lando reassured, stepping off the bench like he was dismounting a noble steed. “unless you want it to be? I’d be down to, uh, shiver your timbers in a secret hidden alcove.”

“not if you make bad pirate puns.” she rolled her eyes, taking landos extended hand in hers and allowing him to help her up. “but we can see where the night takes us.”

she shouldn’t have said that. why did she say that? would he think she was propositioning him?

the wind was breezy on her bare legs as lando led her across the moonlit backyard, pushing open the same door they had just come through. the family photos on the wall were old and faded, frames of orange gold around them. lando ushered her up the stairs, clouds of dust flying off the carpet as they ascended. the further up the stairs they moved, the mustier it smelled.

lando stopped her on the landing, hardwood covered in a threadbare oriental carpet, everything covered in a fine layer of dust, save for the cracked mirror.

"press on the edges of the fame, but stand back." lando suggested. "max brushed up against it earlier and almost got flung off the landing. it's a service entrance door."

"sick." she mumbled, pressing her slender fingers along the filigree gold frame. "just like this? do you remember where the latch was?"

"if i did, i'd have opened the door myself." he shrugged.

all at once, she felt the mirror give way under her hand, a clicking sound barely audible as the door began to move. lando reached for her hand, gently pulling her out of the line of fire.

"that was fucking awesome." she giggled, pulling her phone out of her purse and switching on the flashlight. "you know we need to go in there now, right?"

"just as long as you can get us back out." lando pleaded. "i don't want to die in a service tunnel."

she lead the way up the stone staircase, her flashlight illuminating the pounds of dust and cobwebs (as well as the occasional lump that might have been a dead rat, but she actually didn't want to know).

"if i see any big ass spiders in here, killing them is your job." she tried to keep her voice steady, but the thought of a massive spider crawling up her leg was not her idea of a good time. in fact, it would likely send her into hysterics.

they reached the top of the winding staircase, coming to rest in front of a large wooden door with a wrought iron knocker shaped like medusa's head. the hinges were slightly rusted, and it was clear that nobody had come up here for a while.

until them, of course, their footsteps clearly imprinted in the dusty stairs below.

"well, it would be a shame to turn back now." lando remarked, reaching for the door handle. it was stiff, but the room was unlocked.

she followed lando inside, reaching blindly for the old dial lightswitch on the wall. the room flickered to life, lit by two dull bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

a large bookshelf took up one wall, a dust and dirt caked window overlooking the grounds on another, equipped with a window seat for reading. a small crosley record player sat on a teak stand, pressed up against a wall painted an off cinnamon color. she walked to the milk crates stacked neatly next to the the player, flipping through well-worn vinyls.

"whoever was last up here was really into seventies disco. we've got abba, donna summer, elton john, blondie, hot chocolate, earth wind and fire." she mused, pulling a blondie album out of the basket. "although i always considered blondie to be more new wave than anything."

lando reached over her, his chest just faintly burshing up against her arm, body heat causing her skin to flush as he grabbed an elton john record from the basket.

"elton john? now this guy wrote some great stuff."

"nothing in this basket is organized in any way! they've got wild cherry at the front with earth, wind and fire, but blondie is pushed way to the back with chaka khan and ike and tina. no rhyme or reason! i have half a mind to rearrange it myself."

the record player crackled to life, the sound coming out of two old wooden marley speakers, a sound system that hadn't been updated in a while but still came through crisp as they day it was put together. elton john and kiki dee's duetting voices began to fill the room, and lando extended a hand.

"can i have this dance, my fair maiden?"

she smiled, leaning against the stack of milk crates. "i dunno. ladies like me don't dance with scoundrels like you."

"but a scoundrel like me will show you a damn good time. if you let me, of course."

giggling, she grabbed his hand, allowing the young man to twirl her in a circle before dipping her towards the floor, her hair dusting the shag carpet. soon, their laughter was louder than the stereo itself.

out of breath, their gleeful dance began to slow. they stood in the middle of the dimly lit room, 'don't go breaking my heart' playing lowly in the background, the thumping bass from the ballroom travelling upstairs as lando leaned in.

the craned her face up, pressing on to her tip toes to meet him halfway, brushing her lips against his before her pulled her in for more, his strong arms like a safety net around her body, ready to catch her if her knees buckled (which she was almost sure they would).

"i've gotta hand it to ya, captain. you're one smooth operator." she giggled, kissing him again. "i wonder what else you can do with that tongue?"

"come dock in my port, and you'll find out."

she burst out laughing, dropping her arms to playfully smack him in the chest. "that was your worst pick up line yet!"

"really? i've got a ton more, read up for this very occasion. what else have i got? there's 'i sure would like to pillage your booty', but that one sounds a little sleazy, 'not only do i have a ship, but it's a long one."

"oh my god, you need to stop. they're all as bad as the one that came before." she was laughing so hard there were tears in the corners of her eye. he thought he was so suave, rattling off stupid pickup lines while he leaned against milk crates of vinyl pressings.

and the stupid thing was, it was working.

tired of listening to him ramble, she stalked over to him, grabbing his leather vest and pulling him in for another kiss.

TAGS: @userlando @magnummagnussen @diorleclerc @scuderiamh @lorarri @cartierre @clemswrld @httpiastri @love4lando @silversainz @silverstonesainz @scuderiasundays

[cheriewoo]

Took Me To The Stars | Kang Yeosang ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 06 : Costume Sex

↬ [ Synopsis ] : Yeosang’s fantasies run wild, from wanting to show you the stars to having passionate sex in theater costumes. It all begins with you helping him ease his tension, but leaves him craving more of you. A deal is struck, promising a night filled with lust, an offer you would never want to pass up.

Word Count : 2.4k Genre : Smut, Angst, Theatre Actor Au, Roomates, Non-idol au. Pairing : Theatre Actor! Yeosang x Theatre Actor! F.Reader

WARNINGS : pure smut(18+), a bit of plot, costume sex, dom/sub undertones, oral (m.recieving), praise, petnames( sweetheart, honey), edging, clothed sex, nipple play, unprotected sex,handjob.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆ ☆ ☆ NOTE : Day 06 is here ma chéries and its Yeosang fic day. This is written in a bit of a hurry so hope you enjoy and please ignore any silly mistakes you see in the story. Nonetheless, hope you devour this piece and shower it with the same love you have been showing to my other fics. Thank you, really so so much.

Un-fucking-predictable. That’s what anyone would call the situation you’re in right now, with your roommate Yeosang’s aching cock in your mouth as you promise to ease all his tension about tomorrow’s play.

It wasn’t your intention to interrupt his jerk-off session when you came back from theater rehearsal, but when pretty, needy moans echoed through the living room,coming from Yeosang’s room,you couldn’t help but sneak a little peek inside your co-star-turned-roommate’s bedroom.

To say the sight before you was mouthwateringly ethereal would be an understatement. With his eyes tightly shut, lips caught between his pearly whites, a blush coloring his cheeks, and his hand furiously pumping his angry cock, his moans desperate for release, you couldn’t help but squirm as you shamelessly watched him.

So, what you heard at rehearsals was right, the play Yeosang is leading has been preponed, causing chaos among the cast. With the performance just two days away, his desperate actions make sense.

His hands move skillfully up and down his length as he moans prettily, half-naked and falling apart in front of you, desperate for release. The sight turns you on, and a sudden, betraying moan escapes your lips, tiny but loud enough for Yeosang to halt all his actions at once. His eyes snap open in panic, meeting yours, and he freezes in place, turning as red as a tomato.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? I mean, it’s your house too, so obviously you’re here, but—how… ah… when did you come back? I-I can explain… oh shit… I’m really sorry you had to see this” he stammers, embarrassed that you caught him in the act.

“Yeosang, it’s okay. I—” you start to calm him down, but he cuts you off, continuing to apologize.

“I’m really sorry, the girl who was supposed to come over canceled last minute, and I’m just really stressed about the play. You know they preponed the dates! What the hell am I gonna do now? There’s so little time left” he rambles, dumping all his worries on you as he moves closer.

“Yeosang!” you yell, stopping him in his tracks. “Calm down, please. Yeah, I heard about the preponement, but I trust you, so you’re going to pull it off.” Your words seemed to calm him down, at least a little. You continue, “Secondly, I’m sorry the girl canceled on you last minute.” It was a bit surprising, considering no one ever cancels on Yeosang. He has that magnetic charm and a reputation for sleeping around.

“And finally, do you want me to help with that?” you ask, a mischievous smile on your lips as your fingers point toward his throbbing length.

“Huh… umm… well, y/n… uh… yes, please.” he hesitates for a moment but eventually accepts your offer.

A smile appears on your face as you stride toward him, settling on your knees in front of him as he sits on the bed. The thought of his best friend and roommate taking him in her mouth still feels a bit unsettling for him. You, on the other hand, aren’t the slightest bit hesitant or doubtful about the bliss he’s about to experience, promising him a blowjob he’ll remember for eternity.

Removing your shirt, you gently wrap your fingers around his hard length, giving it a stroke. Yeosang grunts, taking deep breaths as his eyes shift between your exposed chest and your hands playing with his dick. Your tongue delivers kitten licks to clean up his leaking precum while your hand keeps stroking him, the other hand busy massaging his balls. Yeosang’s body trembles at the delicious sensations your tongue is giving him.

You stroke him slowly, teasingly, as Yeosang's breaths grow heavier, his head falling back . His soft moans only fuels your desire to push him further.

Without warning, you take him fully into your mouth, lips wrapping tightly around his length. Yeosang groans, hands gripping the sheets, as you take him deeper with each bob of your head. Your tongue works skillfully, drawing out his breathless, needy moans.

The room fills with the soft, wet sounds of your mouth as you drive him closer to the edge, his worries melting away as you push him to new heights.

“Y/N!!... I-I’m gonna—” Yeosang’s voice breaks, a mixture of desperation and bliss, and before he can finish, you feel him spill into your mouth. You don’t stop until he’s completely undone, his body going limp as he falls back on the bed, breaths shaky.

As you pull away, wiping your lips, you glance up at him. Yeosang’s eyes are half-lidded, his face flushed, a relaxed smile tugging at his lips. “You really... took all my tension away.” he breathes out, still catching his breath. “In theatre terms, you took me to the stars.” A small chuckle escapes him as he tries to recover from the heavenly pleasure you just gave him.

You give him a playful smirk. “Told you I could help.”

—

Two days later, Yeosang's play becomes a massive hit, receiving a standing ovation with the crowd going wild over the beautiful performance. The cast somehow pulled it off, and Yeosang was incredible. You couldn’t help but smile, remembering your cheeky little contribution.

Backstage, you go around congratulating the cast, fist-bumping Wooyoung and ruffling San’s hair for their stellar performances. You're busy chatting with Woosan when Yeosang approaches, tapping your shoulder with a big smile on his gorgeous face.

“Congrats, Yeosang! The play was amazing, and your performance was literally the cherry on top, totally worthy of the standing ovation.” you say, congratulating him.

“Thank you so much... umm... for helping me, with the play, of course.” he stammers a bit before finally asking, “Can we talk?” Your eyes narrow, but you nod. Woosan exchanges a knowing look, and they give you both privacy, which is surprising considering how nosy Wooyoung can be.

“Thank you for helping that day... umm, without your support, I couldn’t have pulled this off, really. I was very tense and distracted, and you helped me focus.” he says shyly, a red blush creeping onto his cheeks. He hesitates before asking, “Can I do something in return for you?”

“Umm… no, nothing. I really can’t think of anything right now, Yeosang.” you reply, pretending you don’t want anything. To be honest, you enjoy playing hard to get, and Yeosang’s desperate pleas definitely fuel that.

“Anything, please. I really want to show how thankful I am.”

“Honestly, there is nothing, Yeosang.” you reply, trying your hardest not to smirk.

He sighs, frustrated and almost giving up, but he tries to throw one last bone at you.

“Let’s make a deal.” he begins. “In two days, we both have a stage play together. If we successfully pull it off, I will give you anything you want.” He pauses before adding what he wants in return. “I want us to have sex in our main lead costumes.” He speaks confidently, a bit smug and laid back, suddenly exuding a newfound confidence.

Gotcha! You had a feeling Yeosang had a thing for costume sex, but his offer today finally seals the deal.

“Okay, deal!” you say, shaking his hand with a smirk on your face. “What do you want to do?” Yeosang pushes, looking like such a cute, desperate puppy.

“I want you to play with them.” you reply, pointing at your perfect model-sized breasts, bulging out of your tight top, showing no hint of shame in your demand.

"Sneaking a glance at your juicy breasts, a satisfied smile plays on his lips as Yeosang shakes your hand. 'Deal!'”

—

Urgency takes over Yeosang as he drags you to his private room backstage. Yes, he has a private room. It’s goddamn Yeosang we’re talking about—the best lead in the whole theater. After a three-hour play, a standing ovation, and a chorus of praise from not just your friends but the guests as well, you can confidently say the play was a success.

Now it’s time to fulfill the deal: a fully clothed costume makeout session and some cheeky boob play, just as promised, by both sides.

The air in the room is thick with anticipation as Yeosang stands before you, glowing in his main lead costume, looking like the charming prince he is. You look no less than Cinderella, the costume adorning your body like a second skin, emphasizing your curves and amplifying the necessary parts of your beautiful form.

Yeosang's eyes shine with mischief and desire as he drinks in your beauty, thinking to himself what took him so long to make a move on you.

“I can’t believe we’re about to do this,” he says, his voice a mixture of excitement and desire.

You nod, biting your lip as you take in the sight of him. “We made a deal, remember?”

With a swift motion, he closes the gap, his hands gripping your waist firmly as he pulls you against him. The warmth of his body sends shivers down your spine. “Right. A deal.”

His lips crash against yours, igniting a fiery passion as he deepens the kiss. You can feel the heat radiating from him, the thrill of being in your costumes adding to your arousal, and his bulge is evident of his turned-on state, even through the thick fabric of the costume.

“Wanna make this memorable? Let me take you to the stars, sweetheart,” his inner seductor speaks as he murmurs against your lips, a smirk adorning his face.

Slowly walking you backward, your legs hit the couch. Without breaking the kiss, Yeosang gently pushes you onto the couch. Biting your lower lip, he works on your corset, freeing your juicy tits, as a moan escapes your lips.

Breaking the kiss, Yeosang takes a moment to adore the breathtaking sight in front of him. Your milky tits look extremely tempting, begging to be showered with attention, while your flushed face turns him on even more with every passing second.

Yeosang's hands cup your juicy breasts, sending a shiver of pleasure through you. He leans down, his lips brushing against your soft skin, sending electric sparks across your body. “You’re so beautiful.” he murmurs before taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

The warmth of his mouth envelops you, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he suckles gently, drawing soft moans from your lips. You arch your back, each flick of his tongue sending waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you feel yourself growing more desperate for him.

“Yeosang…” you gasp, biting your lip, trying to contain the pleasure building within you. But he only smirks, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. With a teasing flick of his tongue, he switches to your other breast, showering it with the same adoration.

He lavishes your breasts with love bites, kissing a trail from one nipple to the other, taking his time to worship every inch of your soft skin. His hands knead your breasts, fingers teasing your nipples, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure that drives you crazy.

“Yeosang, please, harder.” you beg, your voice shaky with need, urging him on. The sensations are overwhelming and intoxicating. He knows exactly how to play you, how to bring you to the edge and keep you hanging there, desperate for release.

He responds by increasing the intensity of his actions, alternating between gentle kisses and teasing bites, sucking your breasts with passionate urgency. The heat pooling in your core intensifies with each passing moment, and you feel your body ready to surrender to the pleasure. To him.

Finally, with one last passionate suck, he pulls back slightly, looking deep into your eyes. “Want more, honey. I can do a lot more if you allow me to show you.” he whispers, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine.

“I need you, Yeosang. Right now.” a needy demand escapes your lips, your arousal pooling at your core, leaving you panty-wet and dripping with desire. As you lift your dress, Yeosang’s fingers brush against your wetness, checking for the mess he’s made, a smirk appearing on his face.

“So wet… all for me, baby.” His innocent yet charming gazehas yyou breaking you apart. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted this until you had a taste of him that day. The days in waiting had been painful, but you knew Yeosang wouldn’t disappoint.

A soft rub of Yeosang’s hard length against your dripping core pulls you back as a moan escapes your lips. He’s freed himself from his pants just enough to tease you, ready to take you to the stars. Your panties lie discarded in the corner of the couch, and your dress is lifted just enough to allow him to enter you.

Yeosang's eyes darken with desire as he positions himself at your entrance. “Are you ready?” he whispers, ensuring you’re holding up.

“Yes.” you reply breathlessly, your heart racing with excitement and need.

With one smooth motion, he pushes into you, filling you completely. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel him stretch you, the heat and pressure sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. He pauses for a moment, allowing you to adjust, his gaze locked onto yours, deepening the intimacy of the moment you two are sharing.

“God, you feel incredible.” he groans, slowly beginning to thrust, each movement intoxicating and rhythmic. His pace grows faster and more urgent as your bodies move in perfect harmony. You can feel the heat pooling in your core, the tension rising as he drives deeper, hitting all the right spots that make you gasp and moan.

“Yeosang… harder, please.”you plead, desperation dripping from your voice. He responds instantly, quickening his pace, his hands gripping your hips as he takes you, desire pouring into his thrusts. The world outside fades away; it’s just you and him, lost in each other.

Every thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, your bodies slick with sweat from the costumes and the heat of the moment as you approach the edge together. You can feel the ecstasy drawing you closer to release.

“Together, baby.” he urges. “I want us to finish this together.”

With a final thrust, pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave as you decorate his skillful cock with your juices. Yeosang groans, filling you completely, his release washing over you both in a euphoric wave of warmth and satisfaction.

You cling to each other, breathing heavily as the aftershocks of pleasure fade, leaving you both breathless and spent.

“That was everything I hoped for.” he murmurs, a genuine smile breaking across his face, happiness mirroring your blissful expression, with no regret in sight.

“You truly took me to the stars, Yeosang.” you reply, still recovering from the intensity of the experience. As you both catch your breath, you know this is a night you’ll never forget.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[hurts2think]

Hook × morgie- it's saddening how little of them their is in this world :(

🏴‍☠️Young!James Hook x Morgie Le Fay Dating Headcanons🐍

Pairing: Morgie Le Fay x Young!James Hook

Plot: Just dating headcanons of them getting into some shenanigans!

Extra: Hey guys! I'm still sick and haven't been able to write. I've been resting but I feel horrible so I did this for you all! Hooksie one of my favorite ships🫶

- They have one singular braincell that they share

- Black cat x orange cat dynamic

- A couple months before they started dating, most people already assumed they were dating because they mostly acted like it and they were both just oblivious

- Hook always tries to find ways to annoy Uliana and Morgie always tries stopping him. Uliana is annoyed either way

- Hook always suggests they study together, knowing damn well they will not be studying and just goof off the whole time

- Neither of them are used to emotional intimacy so it was very awkward when they first started dating

- After the initial awkwardness they easily became the most annoying couple in school

- They set up a bunch of candles and flowers and make the mood very romantic just to play Uno and yell at each other

- They’re both very romantic but a little tone deaf

- They argue but most of the time only one of them is arguing and the other has no idea

- “You know what? I’m done arguing.” “We were arguing?”

- They’re banned from most public spaces. Restaurants, parks, grocery stores, malls, pretty much anywhere

- ^ usually banned due to their dates and getting in trouble. Whether it was intentional or not

- Always doing stupid dangerous teenager stuff in the middle of the night and calling it a date

- ^ climbing fences, pushing each other down hills in a stolen shopping cart, trespassing, graffiti, TPing houses, ect

- They often trespass into this field that gives the perfect views of the stars. There’s a little stone bench and some animals and they just hold hands and point out the stars.

- They sneak into movies all the time.

- The one place they aren’t banned from and don't have to sneak into is the arcade

- ^ They’re lovers but become rivals the moment they step into the arcade. Always trying to beat each other’s highest scores. They’re definitely regulars there

- They record mixtapes for each other on cassettes like every other month. Listening to them 24/7

- ^ These playlists definitely have Guns n Roses, U2, Queen, AC/DC, and more

- They do movie nights with movies they'll think they'd make fun of but end up loving it

- ^ The Princess Bride and Heathers is definitely one of those movies

- Hook is more affectionate than Morgie but Morgie loves the affection. They're still both very clingy

- Hook always pulling in Morgie for kisses

- They both fluster each other so much. Hook usually does flusters Morgie on purpose and Morgie usually flusters Hook on accident but finds it adorable

- They have attempted to start a band with the other VKs multiple times but it has never worked out

- They cuddle 24/7 and kiss and hold hands and are literally piling on each other, trying to be as physically close as possible

- If one of them is out from school because he's sick, the other will skip school to take care of him

- They always do cringey obscure couple Halloween costumes that no one understands

- When they goof off in class and the teacher is lecturing them, they definitely keep looking at each other and have to hold in from busting out laughing

- ^ Detention buddies

- Morgie leaves little sticky note drawings and letters for Hook just throughout the day.

- ^ Hook keeps a couple of them in his wallet

- Theatre kids and definitely make jokes about their chatacters dating each other in the show

- Overall they just get into so much trouble with their shenanigans and are very clingy

[deafsignifcantother]

Stardom

♥ prompt: them sneaking into your bedroom window to see you - @urfriendlywriter

♥ summary: alastor's childhood best friend is a movie star and they have a bond between emotionally distant ppl awww so cute (she is trying her hardest to express affection but is internally screaming at her fruitless attempts and he thinks it's funny). wrote this as a warmup for an assignment

♥ relationship: alastor x feminine deaf reader

♥ word count: 2.8k

♥ notes: reader's mother is a prominent character and she's a kind person, alastor's mom is prominent too, scenes from childhood -> teen -> adult, alastor is just a romantic man, stone-faced reader

One day, there was a knock at his front door. His mother opened it after drying her hands, stepping away from the kitchen. Behind the door was another mother and child at the door. Alastor peeked from behind his mother, seeing you with your head down. He immediately recognized you when his mom took him to the theatre. You were nothing like you were on the screen. Your timid posture caught him off guard immediately, as did the blank expression on your face. Your mom was there to apologize for your manners after you had continuously thrown your unwanted toys into their yard.

Alastor watched from his window every time you did, analyzing the look of frustration you had. He would smile to himself; his dimples presented themselves to no one but his reflection until, one day, you looked up at him. Your expressions were dazzling to him, though you are the same age, you know more about presentation and physical articulation than he ever could.

You hit the big screen in his teenage years. It was like you were born to be a scene's star. But his fascination with you genuinely deepened when he saw you off-screen with your resting, blank expression. 

.

Flash. Flash flash.

The light drowns you. You cover your eyes with your hands, shielding yourself from the bright glow from your window. The lamps in your room are switched off—of course they are—and you have been trying your hardest to sleep. Tossing and turning is the worst part of stressful nights. 

Behind the beaming light, you see a pair of pearly whites. Alastor watches the smile grow on your face. 'Smile,' that's how he likes to describe it. It's more of a smirk, one that twitches whenever you try and hide it. If he wasn't so close to you, he'd think you were plotting against him, which makes his heart even more drawn to that smile of yours. His closed-off, stubborn demeanor threatens to crack, though he's waiting to see if you'll initiate a peril to the friendship: companionship. His internal struggle, torn between his defensive nature and growing affection for you, is a constant battle. 

"Alastor," you breathe out before opening the window and sliding it up. The night wind shakes his hair, and his button-up is buttoned to the collar. He throws the flashlight aimlessly and it lands on the bed. Once he fully steps into your room, he unbuttons the top and rolls up his sleeves while you close the window behind him. He flicks the lamp on.

"It's midnight," you sign while his eyes lock on your hands. 

"And I wanted to see you. Were you sleeping?"

"No."

"I thought so."

You let out a laugh through your nose. 

Not even an hour pasts before Alastor sits cross-legged on the floor, his gaze fixed on the walls. Beside him, you hold a handful of playing cards, staring intensely at them to see your next move. He has already put his card down. 

"When do you leave?" He signs, gaining your attention. "In the morning or afternoon?"

You sigh, your expression changing, your hands dropping the cards. "Don't think about that right now."

"I will. You know you don't have to go."

"This movie is my chance. My chance to do something extraordinary, something that could change everything."

He just nods. "I understand. And I'm happy for you." The quietness of the room starts to bother him. The only sound is the slight hum of the lamp. Each moment stretched like an eternity as they played cards.

Finally, you reach out, your hand finding his. "I'll come back if living in a damn movie trailer is that bad." You sign, the smallest smile on your face.

"Stardom." He signs.

"Win some, lose some." You chuckle, the sound a bittersweet melody in the stillness of the night. "Beats the weather here."

His smile forms into a lopsided, childish grin. Louisiana summers are the worst, both for the weather and how during that time, your mother would whisk you away to introduce you to filmmakers. Alastor would look out the window at the empty house. Even as a teenager, he imagined you'd return to whisk your childhood toys into his yard. 

More hours pass, after he wins the game (as usual), the weight of goodbye hangs heavy in the air; you find solace in knowing that your absence won't be forever, however long it may seem. You both sit on your bed and read in perfect silence. Your eyes constantly flicker at him, the curve of his nose and the sharpness of his jaw. He's attractive; it almost draws you in.

Before he leaves, you finally go through your closet and throw him a shirt he left behind the last time he was in your room. He doesn't catch it immediately, and it hits his chest; he hugs it.

You lift your chin. "I'm giving it back before it becomes mine."

"Oh, no worries there." His eyes sparkle when he notices the combining smell of yours and his. When you turn to face the closet again, he holds it up to his face and inhales an extended dose. His eyelids droop, his grip tightens. What a lovely scent. He even lets out an audible growl while eyeing the back of your head. When you face him again, you find his eyes locked on yours.

His aura looms within the confines of your bedroom. His eyes are round and youthful, and his forming smile lines are even more visible in the yellow-toned lighting.

"The days are coming to an end." He signs. Your lips tighten, a juxtaposition to his. Beneath your calm exterior lay an intensely beating heart and a distant mind. One person had managed to pierce the armor around your nature.

Alastor, stop thinking about that damn movie.

But the movie is always on his mind. The weight of impending farewells feels like thorns. You're going to disappear from the neighborhood, while your face and your body will be on his mother's tiny television; Alastor knows he won't be able to see the light in your eyes or the individual hair on your brows like he can when he stands close to you. 

When dawn paints the sky in hues of pink and gold, casting long shadows across the room, Alastor stares outside, opening the window, his brown eyes reflecting the colors. 

"Don't fall," you sign while helping him swing his feet past the window seal.

"Will you stay if I do?"

"I don't know, but if you injure yourself my mom will definitely think I did it."

Alastor tilts his head with a twisted grin, which forms into a smile as you squint at him. He slides a bit forward, his thighs off of the ledge, watching your expression. His feet dangle dangerously before his fingers close around the wooden seal. He slides back towards you, lifting a hand to sign. "Just kidding."

With your voice, you jeer sarcastically, "Ha-ha-ha."

After he safely drops next to the tree he used to climb up, his head started spinning, he carries with him the memory of your voice; he had never heard it before.

.

Gosh, did you make it big. Every time Alastor walks to school, he can see your face plastered on the front cover of newspapers. He tosses a nickel at the storesmen, buying a copy each week.

You never ended up coming home, staying in the city to live out your ever-blooming career. But thankfully, your mother adored Alastor and was appreciative that you had such a close friend. Every time you moved locations, she let Alastor know. Both your and and his mother dreaded the idea of you two losing contact.

His mother teases him about you all the time. 

"She's so pretty." "How could you not tell she liked you?" "So, how's that little charmer?" "Maybe you should be in movies, too." "How about you send her some fan mail?"

By his mother's advice, he started writing you letters.

Your mother hands you them whenever she finds them in the P.O. box. With how hot Houston has gotten, the letters are warm once you get them. The stamps were 32 USA, the same image of a timey radio. He definitely has a doctor's handwriting. You've kept each letter in a drawer under your bed, ensuring their safety.

.

Cameras stand poised, ready to capture the magic of the scene about to unfold. Among the hustle and bustle of crew members and actors, you are the one that stands out the most with your fake, radiant smile and the judgment in your eyes.

As the director calls for action, you step into the scene, slipping effortlessly into your role. You immerse yourself in the story. In these silent movies, you have your own unique shine.

Meanwhile, Alastor paces nervously in his hotel room, constantly cleaning his glasses—a nervous habit—and smoothing his hair behind his ears. He has been counting down the days until he can surprise you, a result of teamwork between his mom and yours. With a bouquet of flowers and an old (and very tacky) friendship bracelet, he makes his way to the movie set.

The director waves his hands to signal a cut. All he gives you is a thumbs up. He doesn't know anything else. You breathe, your face falling into its usual, aggressively neutral look. 

With his voice, the director announces to the rest of the crew the schedule for the rest of the day and the time: noon, which means the beginning of the lunch break. All you can do is stand impatiently waiting for a signal of dismissal. The dress you have on is holding your diaphragm tightly, and your headpiece is pinched too close to your skin. This movie is testing your limits.

One motivator that keeps you staying in these uncomfortable positions is representation. You're blessed to be able to be both loved and openly deaf; in this era, others are not as fortunate. In your imagination, one day, you can stand beside Charlie Chaplin and Granville Redmond.

Gosh, what a dream.

As Alastor arrived, he marveled at the grandeur of the production—its sheer magnitude was enough to amaze him. Alone, he navigated through the maze of trailers and equipment until he found himself standing at the edge of the set, watching you and keeping an eye on your crossed arms and hard stare. 

"Cher..." he whispered to himself. And at this moment, he knew he had to see you, see you close, and tell you just how proud he was. Seeing you within a fantasy realm while maintaining your usual glare is beautiful. Your costume makes you look like a princess, but your face makes you look like a queen.

Alastor waited for the perfect moment to make his entrance, ha. And as the director called for the break, he seized his chance.

Once you turn to leave, your eyes widen in surprise, and you see Alastor standing before you, a smile lighting up his face.

"Alastor!" Your hands sign his name quickly. With the grace born of pure joy, you take a step closer, testing the boundaries of contact. You haven't initiated touch with someone in a very long time. Your eyes are locked on the flowers in his hand. He holds them out, and with elegance, you take them. 

"I had to see you," Alastor signs with his now free hands, his face filled with admiration. "I couldn't bear to be away from you any longer."

You gaze up at him through your eyelashes, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion coursing through your veins. You can almost kiss him. "Thank you." After signing, your fingers touch the petals of the bouquet. "What a lovely surprise! What's the occasion for the flowers?"

His thoughts of you are more than just friendly, but for now, he is content to bask in the warmth of your presence. His eyebrow twitches. What's the occasion? You always say the strangest things.

"Just wanted to brighten your day," he replies, his eyes dropping to the flowers. Their vibrant colors perfectly match the costume. 

"They're beautiful, Alastor. Thank you."

You walk towards the door he entered through, and he follows you, letting you lead the way. 

Your cozy trailer now smells of fresh blooms. 

A familiar, harsh glow of fluorescent lights casts shadows across the room, painting your temporary home in hues of yellow and gold. You sit perched on the sofa's edge, fingers tracing delicate patterns on the fabric, your heart fluttering like a caged bird.

Beside you, Alastor sits with an air of casualness that disguised the storm of emotions within him. There's a newfound curiosity; perhaps his mother's words are getting to him. His feelings are uninvited, unintentional, and unwelcomed. His gaze lingers on you, drinking how your eyes sparkle in the dim light, the curve of your fingers soft and inviting. The minutes last for eternities as you sit quietly. There is a faint sound of the people walking outside, and for Alastor, it heightens the tension of you two being alone together.

You have nothing to say. If you even look at him, you worry that your face will flush. His words, I couldn't bear to be away from you any longer, repeat in your mind's eye. His signing is always so delicate, so beautiful. Oh, how you've missed him. You didn't even realize how much you cherished him.

Finally, unable to bear the weight of the silence any longer, he puts a hand on your knee and keeps it there while his other signs. "Your thoughts are loud."

Are they?

You turn to him, your eyes searching his for any hint of truth. "You've caught me off guard," you admit, hesitant to show what you'd consider vulnerability, something you refuse to display. He instantly notices how different your demeanor is from what he knew.

Your gazes lock, the air crackling with electricity as you dance around the ridge of something unspoken, plain, and nowhere near sudden.

With a tentative hand, you grab his wrist and remove his hand from you. You don't let him go. The air seems still. And then, in the space between heartbeats, you bring his hand up to your lips and place a small kiss along his knuckle. The world around him fades into insignificance, and he loses himself. His mother is going to think she's psychic.

You release his hand, noticing the friendship bracelet you had made all the years ago, and it takes him a second before he returns it to his lap.

You sign. "I greatly appreciate this... and you."

Is there a but?

There's a significant pause before your next sentence as if you're going through all his possible responses. "I've missed you dearly."

He smiles. "I'm glad."

The look on your face reads as if you're confessing a secret. All you can do is nod and stand, adjusting your costume. "Good, so how long are you staying?"

.

You found yourself embarrassed at how you acted when he had come to visit. You were closed off in a way you promised you'd never be to him, you know it's due to the months spent away from him (and with annoying strangers). You embark on a mission to express your affection in the most simple, traditional way. On the nights you can't sleep, you spend hours crafting a heartfelt letter, each word carefully chosen. You don't want your intentions to be obvious, but you also want him to be able to infer what you're spelling out.

The summer heat gives you a headache as much as your mother's cocky smirk does when you hand her the letter. You roll your eyes, "Just send this to him."

She looks over the envelope, signing with one hand. "A love letter, huh?"

"Maybe."

She lifts her chin and shakes her shoulders.

His mother opens all of his mail except for the ones you send. Days after your mother sends it, his opens her mailbox and immediately she recognizes your handwriting and the regular postal stamps you use.

When she tosses it on the table in front of Alastor, a bright smile lights up on his face. He opens it carefully to keep your current address intact and his mother watches with a calm smile. His expression softens as he reads the words penned with care, soft poetry that only an artist can write. 

"Is it what I think it is?" His mother asks. 

"Mother." He grits his teeth, and she giggles, giving him mercy for his attitude, but only this once. She's happy to have won in the continuous teasing.

.

Amidst the falling leaves and the whisper of the autumn breeze, when his response letter gets handed to you, you open it as soon as you can. Your forbearing attitude remains intact but your breathing noticeably quickens with the silent symphony of love. It's as enduring as the changing seasons. Fall has begun; you're going to see him again.

With a strange affection, you hold the letter to your chest. You note his last line: "I'll see you soon, my love."