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writingmochi · 7 days ago

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cast: jay ✗ fem.reader (ft. riize's wonbin, aespa’s ningning, enhypen and &team’s 02 liners, and riize's hyung line)

synopsis: jay has always been a loomer, an introvert, and an outsider in a group of people others presumed were bad. looming in the shadows in the corner of the parties full of drinks, drugs, and sex, can only be seen with the flame of his cigarette in the dark. out of the blue, an orange flame is ignited in the dark corner, creating a silhouette of another person, another loomer, standing beside him

genre: lonely people in neon cities, drama, romance, early 00s au, angst, mature content (consumption of drugs, explicit smut)

inspired by: music my bloody valentine's "loomer" (1991) (genre: dream pop/shoegaze), movie fallen angels (1995) and millennium mambo (2001)

word count: 28896 (28.8k)

warning(s): domestic abuse, sexual assault (groping), toxic relationship (not jay), infidelity (not jay), possessive behaviour, bruises and wounds, drug consumption (cigarette and alcohol, mention of ecstasy and marijuana), mention of suicide attempt, implication of alcohol amnesia (black out), explicit sex, unprotected sex, rough sex but also love making, manhandling, hand job (m & f received), oral job (f receive), creampie (if there is something i forgot, let me know)

message of the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.

welcome! will be speedrunning the notes: this is set in seoul year 2000-2001 so there’ll be mentions of the 1997 asian financial crisis, BUT since i was born in 2003 and am an asian whose country was affected by the crisis—but not a korean, it’s not gonna be 100% accurate. though, I’ve tried my best with my research, especially regarding the culture of that time. also, this is, more or less, a character study for the main leads so it will be a layer-by-layer discovery from their povs. this is also part of my closed milestone collab "discover: 200" which you can check out! enjoy :D p.s. wear helmets when riding motorcycles!

playlist | visualizer part of the loveless anthology | an entry for equinox: the escapist

even under the closed lids of his eyes, jay could still see the dancing lights contrasting from the darkness.

the sound of the electro music playing shakes his surroundings, joined by the shuffling of people's feet in any open space that they could step in whatever the space's size. a microcosm of the crowds at the night market outside, or even the microcosm of the seoul metropolitan city. his heart beats with the bass thumping from the nearby speaker—transferring the sonic waves of the disc jockey performing on stage across the room. his ears are picking up the grainy scratch of the vinyl disc as the needle reads the printed sound wave, a slightly twangy pitch rising as the bpm gets faster and faster to make the transition to the next track seamless. cheers and exclaims follow from the young people who just a few years ago have just grown into adulthood alongside the new millennium, dancing the night away as they consume any experimental thing they're brave enough to do, even if they might regret it the next day.

jay should also do so. but he is a loomer.

a term coined by himself; an obvious answer to tell if someone asks him what he is doing most of the time. wallflower was a term he defined himself most in his younger years, as it was the only relatable word for him, but he doesn't think he is a flower of some sort. a flower blooms and reacts when the light shines on it. he, on the other hand, takes steps away so as to not be under a small sliver of it. the splash of the club's neon lights is making jay feel farther and farther away from the four walls of the club, mentally and physically. yet he preferred that to the day's sun. he's glad that he can walk around the night as it still acts like the rest of the day; business are doing their best as they recover from the financial crisis that happened before the turn of the century.

the shadow is jay's only haven against the piercing tints of hues that lift the club's atmosphere. just like it, his muted demeanour exudes a mystic aura to anyone around him. no one other than his gang and his family has ever heard him speak. his facial expressions are animated enough to tell what he's thinking—if they can read it under the obscurity of the shadow and the commotion. his black attire from head to toe definitely helps with it too, letting him blend more into the night, even underneath the neon signs of the streets; both from walking on the pavement or reflected on the body of his trusted kawasaki ninja bike.

the moisture produced from his closed eyes makes his vision blurry when he slowly opens them. the sporadically moving spotlights shine their colour-changing beam all around the crowded room. people rubbing against each other—well, grinding for the people who he can predict will end the night together—following the rhythm of the track playing as clouds of white smoke and splashes of alcoholic beverage exude from them. scents of people's sweat combining as they move their heads and bodies along, between them being sober, drunk, or intoxicated by a more dangerous chemical drug like ecstasy. he tried said drug once. and he swore to never try it again after he didn't sleep for the next 24 hours. just like the name "ecstasy" entails; being too high on the substance and it makes him not his usual gloomy self—something he hates to think about after his drug trip. his ribs showed prominently as his sober self felt how sweaty his upper body was all over his skin, never stopping until the chemical was gone from his body from dancing and drinking. even though jay says no after that trip, his friends are still doing so as he's alright with his alcohol and cigarettes—sometimes a joint of weed if nicholas gets a few rolls.

even with the darkness covering most of the club, his eyes have adapted to the dark and can still detect where his friends are: nicholas trading with someone at a pillar beside the bar, jake and euijoo enjoying the girls that their booth's "regulars" every time he and his friends come, while sunghoon is openly making out on the dance floor with a girl he recognized to be the guy's ex-fling. while his friends are doing their usual shenanigans, here he is: in his dark corner, hiding from everyone. each time one of the regular girls comes to sit at his gang's regular booth, his alert self always stands up to walk to his usual spot in the corner—which usually does not take long at all because they could even come before his drink is being served. jay still wonders how his gang still wants him within them, even with his more closed-off demeanour. wealth seems to not be a problem as he recognises his friends are also people with easy access to money—all of them meeting each other when enrolling in an international school throughout their school days—and power is also not it when the balance seems to be fair for all five of the gang. maybe the diversity of personalities is what makes them let him stay; being the only one openly closed off even among the introverts in his gang; which are him, euijoo, and sunghoon.

shaking his head as he lets his thoughts float away, jay pulls out the recognisable thick paper box from one of his pant pockets, flipping the top open as he pulls one small yet long cylinder out. replacing it with a small boxy shape, his calloused fingertip rubs against the lighter wheel before flicking it, seeing the spark fly before the rest of the orange flame lights up as he inhales while placing the flame on the tip. the hot and bitter smoke scratches the back of his mouth when he puts out the fire and pulls the cigarette away from between his lips, slightly opening his mouth as the smoke floats outside of him, even outside of his shadowy corner as the spotlight goes through it. yet, no one seems to notice him at all—a small smile tugging the corner of his lips when he also realised that.

jay's body returns to its original position: leaning against the graffiti-covered wall of the corner as he lets his vision continue on his usual observation night by night, puffing it up and returning it to the side of his body in the usual intervals he often does whenever he smokes. the flying acid-scented haze filters what he sees as his eyes stuck on the booth where his friends are now sitting—both nicholas and sunghoon have returned to join jake and euijoo. all four of them now playing a drinking game along with the girls who seem to snuggle up on the over-capacity semi-circle of the booth's velvet seat. he can see the orange flame crawling inside the cigarette below him as he flicks the burnt ash onto the dirty concrete floor.

then, a small spotlight is suddenly on him, making the boy grimace for a split second from the unexpected shine. anyone might intend to focus on it and find him as a result, but jay didn't detect any signs of that. his friends do just that as he usually sees them looking towards his way once every few minutes, the same drunk-like smiles showing from all of them as they take turns to take a shot from whatever drinking game they're playing. even with it, he can't help the other thoughts from within his mind's vault creeping in. how his friends might let him go someday; how he will be teased again for his quiet demeanor, like what he experienced back in his school years; and many more troubling thoughts that have summed up in his mind since he could remember. he has buried them as best as he can. but a minuscule crack is always enough for it to leak back into his conscious mind.

the flame that illuminates a fraction of his being is enough to let the world know he exists; even with the thoughts clouding his mind. stress and burden seemed to fall away in tiny bits as he could see the flame coming closer and closer to the fingers that he pinched the stick in between. under the layers of booming music from the speaker and his free hand wrapping in front of his torso, he hears a small click and a small orange light coming from the dark side, where it was supposed to be the deepest part of his shadowy blanket.

a trembling breath, a puff, and a hot cloud that flies in front of him later, jay finally turns his head around to follow the trail of smoke and sound.

"fuck! sorry for startling you."

the low-volumed sound waves interact with him first as jay looks to the other orange flame on the blunt end, seeing its source behind the faint light coming from the lit up cig. a tint of green coming from the spotlight beam adds to the visage as it captures one side of the person's face clearer. there is also something glimmering under the light before the beam turns away once again to the heads in the crowd.

"and for smoking…" the person's speaking pace slows, the hand holding the stick suspended in the air. the person's eyes find the boy's more visible side coming from where he is positioned. the dancing crowd becomes a background of his presence as the person, you, are deeper in the corner; resting your head on the other wall that connects the corner together. a few of the light beams that reach behind his head can still help you make out his facial features.

sharp. fierce. cold.

you watch him let out a smirk, one corner of his lips lifted, creating a charming yet smug smile, as he lifts his other hand up and you recognise that burnt tip anywhere, nearly finished as the fire almost meets his skin. he's not flinching even with the warmth inching closer and closer, adding more to his intimidating impression.

"uh huh…" you sounded, tilted your head before nodding as you let yourself take another drag from your own cig. jay continues as he has now realised just how short the burning stick on his hand has become before putting it out by throwing it on the ground and crushing it under his shoe's sole. his hand approaches the box that he pockets and picks up another stick. but when he wants to flick the flame up from his lighter, a brighter orange light comes from beside him. cigarette between his lips, he turns once again to see you and your other hand on your lighter, the flame dancing lightly as no other breeze can affect them inside the room other than people's kinetic movement and their breaths.

pushing the end of his cig to it, jay's eyes observe you who is more visible behind the bright yet small dancing fire: pulling out your own stick from your lips as they open a little bit, letting the hot smoke out before you blow the rest to the air between the two of you. also, he could finally see the glimmering coming from you that he saw a few seconds from when the spotlight hit a tiny piece of you: the silver buckle of your black leather choker.

you quickly put out the lighter as jay discovered how burnt the wrapping paper is from staying on the fire for too long. he clears his throat before returning to inhale and exhale the smoke. from the smell of it, your cig has a hint of menthol that clashes with his woody vanilla-esque smell he loves. you must enjoy sipping a drink along with doing so as the mouth cavity does become "cooler" from the mint-on-cold combination. you were also wearing an all-black ensemble from head to toe, your hair framing your face in a perfect mix of grungy-messy but still shaped enough that it doesn't look as frantic as the other girls he saw wearing too excessive an amount of hairspray to make it puffy. your eyes, however, were moving around to see the view. but it contrasts with how slow you let the smoke out—the way your chest is on a steady, slow pace. jay's eyes return to the view outside of his dark bubble, but he couldn't let go and just ignore the presence of another human being beside him.

the beating bass still fills the room up but jay could still hear you grunt as you pull out your phone from your pocket. it vibrates against your hand as you flip the top open, skim-reading the screen before tucking it back into your pocket once again. your eyes look around in the dark before they met with his, his tongue subtly rubbing against the tar that sticks onto his teeth. your lips formed into a thin line as you threw your burnt cig onto the floor before crushing it in one go with your combat boots. blowing a strand of hair from your forehead, you lean back against the wall to breathe in the club's air—no matter how stinky it is. it all seems natural to you and similar to him. your mannerism, even in the dark, seems to naturally flow; your no-colour outfit makes you try to hide yourself even in a place like this, where someone like you is more approachable than him.

jay now realised that you are also a fellow loomer. though he doesn't know if you know what the word meant.

"sorry for startling you…" he heard mutters to see your lips move along with what you said. your voice is a tad bit raspy from the smoke burning inside. jay lets out a slow nod as your lips settle back into their original structure, a small tug on your lips.

"this is also my favorite corner every time i go here." you continue even with the few seconds of silence between the two of you. "it's dark enough that people can't see you even with one glance and it's not near any of the most populated area of the club." a regular, jay assumed, but he never saw you here before. jay does have a few places he frequents with his friends. clubs aren't his thing even if he visits them often—he prefers to hang out underneath the bridge on the side of the han river—but this is where the gang hangs out the most. a base camp of some sort. though he rests in the shadows, he could still recognise people whom he often views. but with the way your eyes are flicking around the vast chromatic space outside of the corner, you still are confused about the layout of the place. you're not a regular at all.

"though when you like standing idly in the dark, there might be someone that notices you're here…" your voice trails off, realising that you were talking to him, implicitly asking if what you said was also true to him or not. his eyes catch yours as you let your fingers rest beside you, a rhythm created from your fingertips meeting the wall while you exhale and inhale in a slow beat. eyes closing as you lick your lips. the wrinkles between your eyebrows reacting as you were thinking of something, but the way your chest sometimes still staggering in between your calm flow sets an alarm in his mind.

that's when jay heard more shuffling feet than usual around the bar and booths.

his eyes settled on his friends as they all seemed to notice it too. the girls hanging by their sides all cower closer to them as the crowd around the bar stools is still as full, but when it usually moves like the current of the river, now becomes more tense—even he could feel that by looking at their stiff shoulders. his lips pop from tasting the residue of the cigs as his eyes focus on the crowd moving unnaturally. someone must be pushing people around to go past the crowd. squinting his eyes, he could see a group trying to push towards the location where he and you are. and a glimpse of the top of the head is enough for you to grab something the nearest to you: his wrist.

the breathy sound comes back as jay looks at your darkened silhouette, eyes staring at the dispersing crowd. sensing it, you turn to him as you try to compose yourself. but the way your eyes glisten from the spotlight highlights more moisture near your tearducts that send alerts to his consciousness. still frantically looks away at the crowded space, but he sees how your jaw clenches.

"take me out of here." your sight returns to meet him and that's when he fully sees the darkness inside you. not the evil nor the lustful kind. but another intense feeling.

"please…"

fear.

jay reacts as he brushes your hand off his wrist before clasping it with his palm, fingers curling as he drags you outside into the colourful shine. the unexpected movement doesn't hurt his eyes as he sees all the colours blurry. hands locking with yours, he let his feet navigate the outskirts of the dancing crowd, stepping in front of people who were also standing by the wall. some recognise him and some aren't as he gave a small knowing nod with his resting face. his eyebrows furrowed as he saw the doorframe beside the jockey's booth. the lights were flickering on and off, but only people who recognise it can see it—even though it's obscured by the absence of the light.

your body felt light even if he dragged you, quickly adapting to his pace and the path he was taking you. your ears are getting more and more buzzed as the boy drags you closer to the speakers. but even with the bass booming, your eyes still look behind you as you catch the pair of eyes you don't want to see.

"(Y/N)!" though muffled by the music, you can still hear him scream your name as you push the boy forward, making him stagger before you return his icy gaze with your concerned ones.

as they both reach the doorframe, jay quickly wraps your shoulder with his arm as he guides you to the hallway filled with graffiti and a few people making out against each other. his eyes only saw one thing: the door with the neon green exit sign on the top. the back entrance was what the employees used, but he and his friends knew about this after they scouted the nearest exit if a police raid happened—which he had escaped from a few times. the employees doesn't even bat an eye at him as he knows how much he and the gang has spend on this establisment ever since this became their hangout spot, some of the women even give him a sly wink knowing something he subconsciously know after observing his booth so much and the girls hanging out there—thinking you were one of them.

the fresh air was a taste he missed as he stepped onto the alley right beside the dumpster. the exterior lights of some businesses don't reach deep into the alley, so they can let both of you stand and blend into the shadows. but that is still not enough when you recall the person you escaped from was following you. then, the person is definitely gonna know about this back exit.

"do you have any trans-transport?" you're holding onto your chest. "fuck- don't mind it. the subway station is near here-"

"my bike is this way." eyebrows raised, you didn't expect him to reply while jutting his chin to the road where the front door is..

the boy's voice is gravelly–influenced by the cig, but it is definitely his regular voice—but it doesn't seem as cold as his demeanour.

it's warm.

maybe the warmest voice you've heard in a while.

jay didn't see the strap of the black bag across your chest before he heard the familiar rumbling, even with the muffled song inside behind the walls. he took the initial steps when he heard your shuffling feet on the same pace as his as you both walked towards the shining neon lights decorating the street. people walking to and fro as he and you blend in perfectly under the white lights of the streetlamps. his eyes peek towards you as he can now fully see you with the light. beside the hair that covers your cheek, he can see the small strip of bandage on the cheekbone area, a scar across the bridge of your nose, and a faded bruise on the corner of your right lip. he chuckles to himself as he stops his hand before rubbing against his own bruise on his left cheekbone—a result of an altercation he had yesterday, the usual gang thing that seems so simple yet all of the people are stubborn. he also seems to be so when he can still feel the scabs on his knuckles to punch the guy that punched him before sunghoon took care of the rest.

both of you aren't that different after all.

your eyes stare at the rows of motorbikes before the boy sets his eyes on one of them. the black color of its body reflects who he is perfectly as you see him tugging his black outer closer to him, untying the black bandana tied on the handle as if to tell people that this specific bike belongs to him. the adrenaline is still flowing in you as you see him pulls the bike backward and straddles into the leather seat. the way his long legs anchor the bike to the ground as he stabilises himself, tying the bandana behind his head and covering the lower part of his face, leaving his eyes visible. the lights at the parking area shine on him and you now notice streaks of navy blue highlights on his hair. it looks like he dyed it without having to bleach it up, making it so that only people who have a keen eye can detect the two different colours.

"the name's (y/n)," you spoke out. the boy turns his head towards you when you tilt your head.

"guess i should introduce myself before you took me away." your face contorts, the pain on the right side of your lips coming up again as you hold your best to not show him that you are still hurting. the dark is friendly enough to not let people know how battered your face is. even telling people asking about you "i'm fine" is getting sickening as you try to escape people you know, especially those who also know him.

"jay," you pick up as he gazes at you before signalling to the space on the seat behind him. you give a small smile as you pluck a cig out of your own teal-accented box—quickly go into the routine as the spark from the wheel creates the fire that burns the cig before you set it off. jay turns the key to the bike as the rumbling machine turns on and combines with the sound of the vehicles on the street. while you slowly climb up the higher back of the bike, the movement makes you have to adjust your choker and you give him a whisper of "okay" before he pushes his feet off the ground and turns the handle, revving the bike as it lurches down the path and to the road.

the way gravity works makes you have to rest your head against jay's back, feeling his spine even under the layers of clothes as you take another puff of your deadly stick. the smoke flies away quickly by the wind that the speed of the bike makes. it's been a long time since you rode a motorcycle, since the last time you remember was back home when you rode it with your mom behind you, guiding you on how to use it as you tried your best to balance yourself. that was years ago, back in high school, and here you are in the big city. the thrilling rush reminds you of home as you breathe in the clear air, missing the smell of salt in the air that usually accompanies it.

your eyes glance outwards as you see jay driving you both through tunnels that cut through the city, swerving around cars and other slower bikes as you let your other hand grip onto jay's waist. the burning ash flies away from the tip from how fast it is as you continue to smoke—eyes were watering too because of the wisps into them. it's very cool against your skin as the only source of warmth is the body in front of you and the burning stick that is on the verge of dying. in a natural for you, you tug closer to the warmth as your other hand now rests around the front of jay, hoping he doesn't mind it.

signs made of glow decorate the streets as you read the writings on them. bars and restaurants names written in hangul and some in the alphabet make your starving stomach react once again. it didn't take long as the boy stopped the bike on one of the parking lots where many motorcycles park. your head lifts up from the broad back as you see the many plastic roofs of street booths, smelling the tasty aroma flowing through the air. after putting out the cigarette while letting jay finish parking the bike, you rub your palms against your arms to send the friction heat streaming through you. the chilly night's air becomes more and more colder as the moon rises, or maybe it's falling down to the western horizon because of how late it is.

the street has barricades to prevent any vehicles to come in to the perimeter. the bustling sounds of chatters make the block alive as the smell of a familiar fragrance enters your nose, making your stomach rumble once again. jay walks from the parked bike and stands beside you, the bandana now pulled down and hanging by his neck as he also encloses more of his black outer piece. roofs of different colored tents reflect the shine on them as if they exude the colour by themselves. the sound of scraping of aluminium against the wok is harmonising with the sizzling. entering through the small gap between the tents from the parking lot, you were met with the nightly food market. rows of plastic-made tables and chairs stretch through the street to accommodate any customers who are eating. most are definitely adults as you also see a few specks of them bringing their little children—the older children have school for the next day and missed out on the delicious cuisine.

footsteps walking nearly in sync as you and he gaze at the kinds of food being sold here. jay has been to this market before—one of his favourites to buy takeaways so that he can stock up for tomorrow's meal. it's also a go-to place for him to buy food before going to the han river and return back into his shadow; especially if he wants more asian cuisine because the snack bar sells mostly westernised food. hunger still exists even in the blanket of darkness, and with both of them fulfilled at the same time, jay feels like a happier man. while one doesn't expect it, he has a very caring relationship with food. jay could remember the memories of seeing his mom cooking something in the kitchen, like miyeokguk for his birthdays or the occasional kimchi that she's mixing before letting it ferment. he still gets kimchi from her once a month, and even that with white rice is enough for him.

"chinese food sounds delicious," he glances at you as you stare at the blue-tinted booth that is nestled in a building with a protruding tent canopy as chairs and tables fill the area. jay stares at the unrecognisable characters painted on the glass pane—he still can't understand it even after enrolling in a hanja class back in his first year of college.

"if you don't mind, of course," you added and turned to him, eyes meeting as jay naturally reacts with a shake of his head before you proceed towards the cook by the wheeled counter behind the glass. hearing you order what you like, especially with how hungry you seem, earns him an achievement for providing something to you as he stood back. your sight shifts back towards him before sliding diagonally down to the menu as he reads it.

settling down at the empty table overlooking the main street where more food is sold and people are eating, jay finally pulls out his phone to see the sms flowing one by one from his friends. the cut-up words look ridiculous, but definitely helpful when you only have limited buttons and characters on the phone itself. he chuckles as he sees euijoo's message on how piss jake is when he realizes that he was gone without telling him. his fingers press on the button rapidly as he follows the words he's trying to write, pressing the button multiple times to find the right alphabet to use as he types the significantly short message to reply.

1 message received

euijoo - 02.48 am a guy walk into de club n start 2 chase sum1 is dat y u run

jay stares at the blinking line of the text as he exhales before texting a "yes". when he wants to press the send button, his eyes lift up to see you who is putting away your bag on the table. seeing the other side of your face, he could see another bruise there on your right cheekbone, creating a line that connects every wound from one cheek to another with your nose as the bridge. his eyebrows crumpled whilst peeking at how your lips are pursing, but also interrupted with how your teeth bite your lip; almost like a soothing reaction as your arms remain still on the plastic table. your darkened, fearful eyes peer around the area, observing the people who are still eating this late at night while still having that alertness. it's like the person who was chasing you might know where you are going to be in the vastness of the city that is seoul.

scraps of movement on the asphalt road captured his attention as the cook came into his sight with two bowls. a jjajjangmyeon for him and a spicy warm jjamppong for you before he went back to provide you with the water pitcher. your hand reaches for the disposable wooden chopstick, letting him see the scars on your hand under the light of the lamp, but also how frail your hand moves. he couldn't see before under the shadow, but jay can now notice how your hand movement looks stiff—only a little amount of energy is exerted into it. jay can only presume two things: either you are actually tired from escaping the club with him, or you are tired in general. and by the look of your bruises scattered around your body and especially your face, the latter thought seemed to be one that added to the enigma that is you in his mind.

the chopsticks mix the sauce with the noodles as slurps fill the air between the two of you. your breath staggers as you take in the spicy broth, combating the cold that grazes your skin, as he hears how you actually sigh unconsciously. but more of a relaxing sigh, like it is a first in a long time you have had chinese food when it is the most accessible one out there—other than local korean delicacies. your tongue pokes out and licks the spiciness across your lips before biting on the shellfish's meat as he focuses on his noodle and takes a bite. the words forming and places on the end of his tongue as it waits for him to finish this one munch out of the others until he swallows it down and fills his stomach.

"who was chasing you?" the boy's question makes you turn your head to face him, eyes finally finding the bruise on his face; similar to what you have. his sight was looking at the street for a few moments before meeting yours. the coldness seemed to melt, even for just a little bit.

"uhm…" you started, forming the words in your head, "i just had to leave someone. just for the night, though. i think."

your words came out full of hesitation and also thoughtfulness, but it is full of something innocent as well—the little "i think" showing it. yet, his eyes still linger on your bruised lips as he could finally notice the little twitch on your small smile, a spasm from the wound that still looks pretty fresh, with the latest it might be is a day old.

"and, when i left them, i didn't know where to go. i don't know seoul enough to get away from them far. so i just go into the next nightlife establishment that we have also gone to, knowing that they would chase me after."

jay could now definitely pinpoint the innocence in your eyes. eyes that were wandering the night market and observing the many people enjoying their time late in the night, instead of staying in their homes to sleep until morning comes. eyes that were looking around the city as he felt your protruding chin moving around on his back as he could see from the rear-view mirror, turning your head to gaze at the big towering buildings that pierce the night sky.

you are not a seoul citizen—unlike him.

then, your hands are clasped in front of the nearly empty bowl of jjamppong. the warmth of the broth slowly dissipates as only a few more strands of noodles are left behind for you to finish. a whiplash on your neck blooming as you stare at jay, yet you don't mind with the rush of dopamine. the way his bike moves around the streets gracefully tells you that he has knowledge of this city's streets and neighbourhoods more than you know. more than the important subway stops you usually get off at and the apartment you live in. more than the streets full of nightlife establishments you frequent to including the club where you found him.

"maybe, you can help me." your voice echoes as it flows to his ears, a slight pout on your lips, "maybe you can help me get to know more about seoul. i- well, none of the people close to me here have even introduce me to the city properly." there is hint of melancholy in your words right at the end, something that tugs his gut as he listens to your proposition.

your figure left him behind as he gazed at you, pulling out your wallet from your chest bag as you paid for not only your meal, but his as well. the cunning glint in your eyes tells him that he knows why you're doing that—the reason why you are pushing him to the corner as he finally takes in your full body appearance; like you have done things like this before to survive. jay has no choice but to repay you now and as you settle beside him once again, you already have an expectant smile on your face, which he replies with nods. because it would not be a gentlemanly thing for him to say "no".

both of you walk around the streets that are dwindling with humans. all who have their stomach filled with happiness as they return to their homes and take rest. nearing the plot of land full of cars and bikes parked, you found the signs pointing you to the nearest subway station as you turned your figure to face him—taking in his handsome yet stern face for the last time. your saviour for the night as he leaned his hips against his angular motorcycle.

"i was thinking maybe we can meet up here tomorrow night? if you don't have anything to do, of course."

jay's mind reverts to his message from his father—saying that he should actually start thinking of taking a job—involving himself in his family's business that had been paying for his upbringing and that will be his inheritance. yet, he only takes little jobs from here and there instead. maybe delivering invoices from one office to another, picking up stuff to be put in the office and more throughout the day, leaving his night free of hanging out with his gang even in that shrouded corner. but your proposal seemed to hit enough of his free time activity criteria.

he has always been more of a night owl—nocturnal, if he could elaborate more. the nighttime is where he felt the most alive as even the cold air still gets sizzled when the sun's rays hit his skin. and when you say to meet him tomorrow night, he can also add to the list that summarises you in his mind that you are also a night person. it is like you have little jobs here and there in the day to pay for your needs, but can feel free in the night to take in the city and release any pent-up emotion you've acquired in the day.

like what he does.

"i can."

"great!" you say with the corner of your lips lifted, the smile reaching to your eyes before you glance down at your feet, noticing the way your boots nearly touch his. "what time are you available? six? seven?"

"after sunset," jay responds instantly as you nod in understanding. your black outfits match with each other as you nod your head.

"seven it is. okay…" you continue nodding as you lightly bite your bottom lip. as you take a step back, he can feel the hesitation coming from you. it is like you don't want this night to end yet. like you are enjoying his company so much even if he stays quiet most of the time, answering in a succinct manner enough for you to understand.

and he also felt it. like he doesn't want to let go.

"i'll see you tomorrow at seven here." your words create a note to pin his mind as he watches your body stepping away towards the sidewalk to the nearest station. and when his eyes met yours, he could see the darkness all gone—now filled with floating saturated colours that only he could see.

"good night, jay." your smile lingers in his sight as you turn your body around, retracting towards the streetlight on the start of the pavement before you step out of the ray of light and into the shadows of the street against the backdrop of windows on the towers littered around seoul. he didn't realise he had a pout on his face until your silhouette finally blends in with the darkness.

"good night, (y/n)." he finally pushes out underneath his breath, turning to go on his bike and turns the ignition as the rumbling sound fills the air. jay already have a place that he could introduce to you tomorrow night after bringing around: his favourite place ever in seoul and a place that you, a fellow loomer, would also love.

the familiar smell of geoje's sea is kilometres away from you now: the place you called home before the metropolitan city swallows you into it. you miss the piercing sun as you step out of your house to find yourself across from the beach. your mom is already standing on the sand when she feels your presence behind her, nagging at you that you woke up late before nudging at the motor scooter that is waiting for you to ride with as she would sit behind you—like always when it comes to saturdays.

yet, the sun now felt more like a past memory. its piercing heat stings deeper than only the surface of your skin, sinking deep into your flesh that you can feel it in your bones. it is now an unfamiliar feeling for you, especially after you moved away from the coast. in the van with the familiar rowdy crowd after your mother had pushed you to take it. take the chance to go to seoul.

"you deserve to also thrive in a big modern city like seoul, (y/n). especially after you got the taste of busan," you remembered her saying after you told her of your new friends' proposition. the ones you met when you were already years in deep to doing your work that you have started ever since graduating high school—just a waitress in a plain eatery that overlooks the coast—when a bunch of boys and a girl came into the empty room. their eyes and thoughts were already pinpointed on you as the girl brought you to sit with them.

"we won't be able to finish it with only the five of us," she said before introducing herself as ningning, then the rounds started. eunseok, sungchan, shotaro, and the most beautiful boy you had ever seen that time with his acoustic guitar on his lap. wonbin: the same boy you were escaping from that night. the same boy that was once so in love with you that you decided to move across the country because you saw a glimpse of a future with him and the other boys that are his bandmates.

even after many ultimatums of breakups that are his fault for the causes—caught him mid-thrusting into a fan that was cheering on him when he was performing at the backstage room after his gig in the pub and music venue you are working in to get your ends meet—he still as adimant to make it up to you. attached; obsessed. time and time again. sometimes with his sweet words but also with his sharp movements, creating the bruises that still sting your face and waiting to repair itself after you helped it with antiseptics. his friends are no different. from sungchan who he is closest with and turns his eyes away and continues playing his guitar even when he could see the frontman flirting on the stage with you who is sitting there across from it, to ningning who allows you to refuge at her place—unofficially moving out from wonbin's unit nearly two weeks ago—and how your story and warnings to her are met with many dismissal.

"i fucking know wonbin longer than you, (y/n). he is the first person that i am friends with when i moved here from china. he is not like that." yet, she is still much more aware now even if it is not at 50% level, espeically seeing your bruised up face and marred skin combine with how you have reiterate to her time and time again: "i don't have anyone to fucking go to in seoul. it is just the five of you. that's why i am telling you this."

and so, your love for the sun is gone as you felt safer in the shadow. it is safer for you to just observe from the crowd as wonbin has a spotlight on him, playing his guitar on the stage, when you go do what you are good at: serving people their drinks, taking in their orders, and maybe get rope in their booth for a drinking game or two. and when it gets too much—as you watched his lazy smile making a bunch of girls swoon like he hasn't got you wrapped around his fingers already—you left for the nearest club from there. a place that he ironically introduced to you after your second night working in the venue. the rock songs are being replaced with hard-hitting techno as you find a corner and light a cigarette. eyes always fleeting towards the front door to see if he notices and chases you or not. because, per his words: "i won't ever let you out of my sight."

but, for the first time in your life, you seemed to gain hope from the darkness that is usually around you.

in that club, the darkness of the corner of you always obscured yourself in has a presence you only notice recently. you thought maybe it is just the void enveloping you, protecting you from the harms you inflict on yourself and other people inflict on you. maybe, that presence has always been jay; steps away with his lit up cigarette and smokes flying out of the corner with yours.

your boots stamp on the stairs as you climb out from the underground subway station, bag slinging around with your movement as your whole outfit lets you blend into the shadows that will be forming more later in the day. the neon symbols that were hollow when you saw them before descending to ride the train are now clearer as the purple takes over from the orange that only has a trace showing at the western horizon. you eyed the familiar hanging signs that you walk past to go to the apartment unit from yesterday night, now heading the opposite way from the station to go to the street that is ingrained in your mind. a hidden gem you will now always cherish when you are searching for a treat.

the smell of cooking food is already sizzling into the air, still enticing even though you had remembered that you had already eaten some food at the convenience store before riding the train. but the expectation of it lets you focus on the street that is approaching. a few steps and you arrive at the opening, watching people eating their food on the tables and chairs placed down between tents of street food delicacies. some of them are in their office outfits—suits, ties, and miniskirts spotted on the tables as they get their fill of dinner before going back home or do something else as the night has only just started. instead of joining them, you head towards another place; towards where people park their private vehicles.

vehicles, from cars to motorbikes and regular bicycles, are all parked there in an orderly manner. some of the cars are parked parallel while the motorbikes are gathered in one place. yet, one stood out. there, with the familiar black and white bandana tightly covering half of his face, stood your saviour from last night.

"hi!" your words bounce out from you, startling both him and yourself. jay shifts his head to face you and nods before looking down to take your appearance: not much different to the clothes you are wearing from yesterday colour-wise. but you decided to wear a thin long-sleeved black top in place of your crop top t-shirt from last night.

"can i get a smoke break first?" you already put your hand into your bag as you heard him hum, opening the pocket as you pull out your cigarette stick and lighter. the click and sizzle enter his ear as your eyes are focusing on the end of the cigarette that is being burned, inhaling to keep the fire on before exhaling along with the smoke. and you turned yourself around and stepped back to stand beside him, leaning slightly against his motorcycle as you took in the scenery that you had also seen not even 24 hours prior. but it is much more crowded—people know that 7 pm is still too early to end the night full of relaxation after a long day, and it is also too early to start yours.

"we're the same age, right?" you muttered out as jay turns his head to look at you. his twitching lips were obscured under his tied bandana mask.

"i'm 21," he replied as you answered, "same then. are you in university right now or..?"

"graduated early. business major. you?"

"no. i am not…" jay peers down to look at the smile you let out, "i don't have the money. it's one of the reasons why i'm in seoul now..." you take a drag from the cigarette, letting it coat your mouth with the familiar taste before you blow the smoke away, "to find them."

he takes in your words and the assumption he made of you from last night. the little jobs you are probably doing, the innocence you have in the metropolitan city you find yourself in—especially at the start of the new millennium—with everything that this city has been going through. it makes so much sense for someone like you to move to seoul to get a job, knowing the many opportunities it has compared to other towns. you are still wearing the choker you wore last night, like it is part of your identity. like it is a way to make you grounded and not be blown out of the way with the many things that happened in seoul. like it is a reminder for you to stay true to yourself.

jay watches as you throw the cigarette away and stomp them with your sole before pivoting to face him. "let's," you speak out, eyebrows raised as you stare into his eyes. behind the bandana, a smirk rises on his face as he signals towards his bike with a small turn of his head. he catches your smile widening as he gets on the seat, turning on the machine that was already plugged in with the key and revving the engine up.

he felt your chin resting on his shoulder as the motorbike swerved around cars and other vehicles in the streets of seoul. the breeze brushes his hair away as he talks underneath the sound of the engine and other noises, words only reserved for you as he points out the many places you both are cruising by. from the city hall area to the eulji-ro, the palaces then to the ever-crowded and bright myeong-dong with the namsan tower standing like a beacon between the hills that encompasses seoul metropolitan area. from the rearview mirror, he finds you examining around the buildings as their light shines on you. an earnest yet also mesmerised look on your face like a child who has only seen the city lights for the first time.

jay also notices how your chin lifts up from his shoulder when the bike glides on the bridge crossing the han river. the river's surface glimmering under the sky, resembling the stars high up above. he doesn't stop, speaking to you of the many neighbourhoods he is bringing you along. jamsil, samseong, and sinsa encompass the affluent district of gangnam, which even makes the boy feel indifferent as he realises the area he is in, making him ride down the hilly road as quick as possible to get closer to the final place he wants to show you. and so, after the whole introduction to seoul, he brought you to his favourite place in the city.

parking the bike in the empty lot, you already step down as you walk towards the snack bar nearest to his hangout place that overlooks the han river. the park area seems to be full of people riding bicycles for their nightly exercise, but his favourite spot is not exactly by the edge of the river. but a bit further in and right under the bridge. the view looks out beautifully on the city's increasing number of skyscrapers, yet he is still in the comfort of the shadows. the other boys also know about this place—their favourite spot to hang out after school before their parents would call them like crazy to get back home. but with their regular appearance at the club now, this place is solely his to claim as he visits much more often than they do now.

jay raises his hand as you walk back with a paper bowl of french fries before he sits down on the metal bench and the table in its set right underneath the bridge where cars and buses drive above them. your figure approaches and looks up, slowing your steps as you take in the massive structure hanging above you, casting darkness on the spots right underneath them before a clear image on the other side shows across from where you stood. your figure sits beside him on the same bench, placing the fries at the space between the two of you as the darkness encases you from above. the shine from the streetlights only shows one side of both of your faces as you nudge your head from your gaze on the bowl towards him—signalling for him to take one. a smile morphs on your expression when you watch him pinch one cut of the fry and plop it into his mouth. you finally let out a huge exhale and turn your head to gaze at the city that you have called home for one year now. yet, a city that is still so full of the unknown for you.

the skyscrapers' silhouettes are darker than the twilight sky—letting you take in the enormous figures in their entirety when you are so far out from their foundation. gazing at them, it reminds you of the silhouette of the cargo ships across the sea that are going to park by the harbour in busan. its huge shape looks small from where you are standing on the sand, wondering just how many of your bodies should stack with each other to know how tall it is. being in front of the skyscrapers makes you feel like you are facing against giants that roam across the soil, especially with the many development of south korea that you have heard so many times from the radio, talks of the older people in your village, and the glance of the newest newspaper that reaches geoje that can be one day late from the message busan has received.

and here you are, sitting beside the boy who only speaks if necessary—knowing even from your short interaction. his spoken words sear into your mind as you match up the view to the names he had uttered on the ride on his motorbike as you leaned against his shoulder; feeling free for the first time in a long time.

"hmm…" you hummed before chuckling, making him turn his head towards you from your peeking. "do you want to know the real reason why i ask you to introduce seoul to me?"

jay's eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, reading onto your face that is as open as ever for conversation—different to the trembling eyes he had seen yesterday. you were much more relaxed. maybe because it is due to your hidden position that only people who take a moment to wait and search will find the two of you. maybe it's because you are not being chased by someone. maybe it's because the shadow is protecting you, to allow you to speak comfortably.

"i'm… searching for a new job," you finally say, a small pout jutting as you tilt your head to face him. "i work in that pub and music venue near the club where we met, working as a waitress and occasionally hostess. i'll be quitting from there as soon as i find a replacement."

the boy sighed beside you as he continued picking up the fries. his body also relaxed as he already guessed that you are buying it for both of you—like yesterday with how you paid for the jjajangmyeon he ate. but when you mentioned job searching, his eyebrows became slightly creased. yet, your sudden smile calms his heartbeat; taking in just how with the slightest crook of your lips, all the worry in him disappears.

"thank you for that. for all of it. i now have some places that i can consider for my next job. hopefully, they're open to accepting me…" you gulped down before staring back at the snack bar where you bought the fries—one prospect of the jobs you are searching for. the men who serve you your food there seem lovely; the dark night outside of their shining boxes doesn't seem to slow them down with their business, as you read that they're going to be closing at around 11 at night. you recalled how the man by the cashier is looking at the man who cooks, a look of adoration in him as they take their business slow and steady. like it is more of a passion job rather than a profitable one.

"you are a seoul citizen, right? local?" the last word is uttered by you to make the question clearer as you see jay let out a smirk.

"born in the united states, but moved here when i was five years old."

"really? that's cool," your voice pitched got higher by the end of your sentence with your eyes openly marvelling at him, especially now with the bandana off as you could take in his facial profile. from his stern eyebrows to his sharp jawline that actually makes his cheeks warm. "since you lived here most of your life, do you have any thoughts about the city? i'm genuinely curious. especially coming from a local rather than an outsider like me."

"an outsider's perspective is more objective in one way," jay started, his words seemingly speaking like an invitation for you to also join in the conversation with your own opinion. his relaxed body now looks more upright as he leans towards the middle where the bowl rests between the two of you on the bench, "one word to describe seoul: convoluted."

nods coming from your head, agreeing to his one-word description of the city you are now in. "i expected that knowing the many narration of the 'miracle of the han river'"—your hands widens in front of you to emphasize the gradiosity of the era—"from the early 1990s to then it came crashing down because of the financial crisis that even my family back in the village is still recovering from." you let out all the buzzword you have seen from the newspaper and the newly printed textbooks your have to share in the classroom. the rising number of conglomerates and how it has evolved the korean economy back when you were in elementary school. the view of the beach from the fishboats you recognised suddenly gains an increase of bigger steel ships—dominating the shore with more coming to import or export to the countries that have agreed for a trade relation. then, the financial crisis you felt in high school, as your mom was more willing to cook you a doshirak rather than give you allowance money to buy food, with how devalued korean won became.

"but, if i want to describe seoul in one word, like you do," you point towards him using your shoulder, "i would probably say dangerous. i mean, the sampoong department store collapse, the one with the seongsu bridge. it shows how people are willing to be reckless to chase for that 'miracle' and cut corners to gain from them, to upkeep their image as best as they could with cost of being not transparent." your sigh hangs between the two of you as you finally made eye contact with him. "to know that i am scared of seoul in an understatement, seeing the trajectory of it all. and also the divide."

"are you sure you don't go to university?" jay's question makes you giggle as you finish another bite of the fry. you reply by shaking your head, confirming to him about your education status.

"i am just someone who is keen to learn about the world. that's all…" you spoke back towards him before letting out the final words you can't seem to stop, "even if i'm lonely doing it."

jay's eyebrows were raised for a second as you realised he must have caught on to what you said. but rather than pointing him out on it, you stayed quiet, and he seems to follow suit. his hand rummages in his pocket as he pulls out the cigarette package, pushing the box towards you, with you replying with your shaking head as you pull out your own box. pulling one stick out of the box, you heard the click beside you as jay's face is illuminated with the warm orange colour of the fire. his eyes look between the dancing flame and then to you as he is holding on to it.

quickly, you bite the end with your teeth as you let the dried leaves burn—remembering how you were doing the same to him the night before. the smoke flew between the two of you, smelling the different flavours of his cigarette compared to yours that blends in. there are only a few fries left between the two of you. yet jay's posture seemed like he was letting you take in the rest of the food.

"lonely is a good word to describe the people in the city. people like us." jay finally lets out, letting the drag of the cigarette fly between the two of you. the scent of his cigarette is much heavier than your own menthol one—the one that even wonbin doesn't know because you only started smoking when you were separated from him. slowly and surely letting it become your friend that spreads warmth inside you, because alcohol will only make you weep your feelings. you understand that the smell will stick onto your clothes, yet you don't care. even with their cons, the smoke warms your body up like a hug. and with that, you both are sitting beside each other, taking in his expression and implications as he does yours.

"i call myself a loomer. people who loom in the shadow and just observe your surroundings." his eyes met yours as he blew another cloud of smoke out—not bothering you at all as you take in the smoke instead with a small smile on your lips. "you are one."

a thin smile comes out from your lips as you track the verisimilitude in his face. to have a nickname given by a person you can't help but respect in many aspects—education, wealth, and socially—feels like an honour. even with his simple description, you understand what he was saying. that even here underneath the shadow that is a bridge connecting people across the han river throughout the urban area: you both are looming in the shadows and taking in seoul from the little shady corner—another shadowy haven to add to your collection that is the techno club as wonbin destroyed sanctity of the apartment you had shared with him before you moved to ningning's.

"i haven't heard of that word before. but it is fitting. i like observing more as life goes on. knowing that people also live their lives and i can learn more about them by just... taking them in one by one." you uttered back, watching how the one side of his face is more vivid because of the light. and because of it, you can see how his left eye is glimmering—a subtle joy shown from your like-mindedness.

and so, you both are taking in seoul with your own paces. small conversation bouncing here and there, but seoul is also the main character of the night. your eyes follow the headlights of the vehicle on the bridge across from where you are; asking the boy beside about who owns the skyscrapers you both are looking at; talking about his insight on the 1997 financial crisis as someone studying economics. these are many discussions you aren't able to have with the likes of shotaro and eunseok, who are focused on the materialistic side of an argument—the sentence "how much does it worth?" peeling your surface one by one when you talk to the main bandmates outside of wonbin. even ningning is much more open to talking about this, even if it is something she dislikes talking about, because it makes her head hot when she hears how your questions are basically peeling every layer like what an onion has.

the wind wisps against your head once again, feeling his warmth even from his back as he had put your arms to wrapped around his waist. the bike weaves through the emptier streets as he moves towards the direction of your apartment tower. different from the last time you rode the bike before, you lay your head on him with one side turning as you take in the scenery. the many signs of business that added more characeter to the street while the building outlines blends with the darkness when the streetlights doesn't reached the top. as the bike continues on the asphalt road, you catch the familiar sets of buildings zooming past—nearing your destination as you eyed jay who is looking at the buildings to find the right one from the address you told him.

"thank you once again," you finally able to say as you stand beside him, his long legs becoming the anchors of his bike to stand steadily as he gazed at you. your hand rubs the back of your neck, feeling the stickiness of the sweat that perspires from your activities with him tonight. said boy looks at you sheepishly, a curt nod given to you as he finally reaches for his bandana and ties it back onto the back of his head.

"here, let me help." your hands move instantly, reaching to smooth down the upper side of the triangle shape of the bandana that covers the lower half of his face. the boy's eyes peering down at your hands before going to your face, his gaze goes straight to you as you pull back, making a distance between both of your figures as you feel the warmth he exudes scattering from your touch. your hands slowly fall down back to your side as you give him a thin smile.

"good night, jay," you say back to him, the same way you did yesterday.

you walked a few steps back on the pavement as he put his hands on the handles, revving the engine up before turning towards you.

"good night, (y/n)," he replied. and with the way you turn your head to look back from your shoulder, even for just a slight movement, he knows you heard his words—unlike yesterday.

his motorbike scurries off into the shadows as you eyed the red shining glow from the brake lights, getting farther and farther away as it turns at the corner to god knows where he would be going tonight. you exhaled a breath you didn't realise you were holding as you turned to the apartment building. the flights of stairs are sticking onto the side of the building as the fences barricade you alongside its half-wall foundation and the canopy above you from the weather outside. the gap letting in the night wind that grazes your cheek as you keep up your breathing pace and walk up the steps to the apartment you share with ningning.

with the key between your fingers, you insert it into the hole and turn the lock open when you feel that it is so light. eyes now squinting, the door was unlocked as you turned your head around the hallway to the other doors where the other tenants live. ningning had said to you that she is going to get home late tonight—doing something other than her job—and she left after you. it is either that she forgot to lock the front door or someone is inside. bracing yourself, you turn the handle and step inside the apartment.

"ning?" you spoke as loud as the night lets you with the limited volume, pushing your shoes off as you eyed the front door cabinet to see that her regular pair of shoes are missing, but instead you found a pair of rubber slippers scattered from one side of the floor tile to other by the front door. a familiar rubber slippers you can already guess as his voice continues to confirm it.

"there you are, lover." his silhouette sits on the couch across from the stack of blankets and pillows you folded up that are your set of sleeping items. the minimal lighting coming from the night outside the window, the warm orange lamp on the table nearest to ningning's room and the ultraviolet light hanging nearest to the television shine on the white of wonbin's tank top and turn it into periwinkle. his long hair frames his small face as his bangs cover his eyes slightly—a look that made you fall in love with him in the first place. wonbin's head turns towards where you stand as he lets out a smirk, pushing his body to stand up as your hand reaches for the strap of your bag; curling around it.

"you've not been home for five days now. i did assumed that you were staying at ning's." his voice reaches you as you could feel the bruises on your face tingling. you had unofficially moved to ningning's apartment nearly two weeks ago and yet he only remembered the last five days? maybe, he had also forgotten about the time when you were picking up your clothes to move to ningning's where you had met him drunk and with a girl bent on her hands and knees in front of him in the bed he had called "ours" with you. his blanked out drunkness became harsher as the girl actually watched you two until your body landed on the ground with a few punches landed on your face. the girl's eyes were looking between you and then at wonbin as she scurried away, half-clothed, and bring your out of the apartment unit instead. she bought you two a cup of ramyeon as you both talked about boys and all other things inside the 24-hour convenience store: you never got her name and number when you both seperated at sunrise.

that was two days ago. the reason why you got these faded wounds all across your face and hands. and he doesn't seem to remember it at all

yet, even with the bruises and all, wonbin's voice still affects you, making you remain standing as he walks closer and closer. there are so many reasons why you are enamoured with this certain park wonbin, and his voice was one of them. bright like sunlight but can be deeper when serious, especially when he sings on stage as the spotlight makes him shine more. but you know your relationship with the sun now as it becomes murkier and murkier—like your connection with him that is getting much messier with the many times he won't stop his escapades and his friends enable him to not stop as well.

his hands that have held your body many times, have placed their mark on you, caressing down your curves in a way that is catered only towards his pleasure. but even with the many times you had seen him cheat on you and how nonchalant his friends are, you realised that you still can't live in seoul independently, because wonbin is the main reason why you came here, following him around as he also helped you carve seoul into your life, adding that you can also help provide for your mom back in geoje also—a mom that wants to think and live big. and that, without him or his friends who could also support a more ideal person than an outsider like you, you would be homeless.

his hand reaches up and caresses down your sleeve-covered arm, feeling the shivers growing across your nerves as he steps closer to you—letting you feel his breath against your skin. but your eyes remain still and only look at one point, which is his chest in your vision. the touch felt so familiar and soft, not the same touch that hit you down on the ground and blooming splotches of darker colours on your face. in his mind, you know that that version of wonbin and this version of him before you are the same person. but if they are, why does your heart recognise his touches and obscure the version that wounded you? like it is telling you that yes, the wonbin before you is the wonbin that you loved. your wonbin. not the one that was hitting you to the ground. not the one that was chasing you down yesterday night.

and yet, when he lifts your gaze with a hand on your jaw, your eyes meet his and you can't help but compare his eyes with jay's. wonbin's eyes exude something so carefully crafted to impress people, like the deities made him to be an adonis that enamoured the human race. there is a romantic glint in his eyes—a look that shows the person before him that he cares for their being. but his eyes seem so superficial when you look deeper and longer. unlike the way jay looks at you with his stare that is much sharper and darker. more brash and yet, jay's gaze seemed warmer.

then, he moved his head to the crook of your neck, his grip moved to hold around your wrist. you blinked slowly, letting the familiar sniffing session come as he couldn't even bear to smell the scent of another person on you. his possessiveness is showing—something you can only pinpoint as the mask is slipping down more day by day.

"since when did you smoke?" he replied after sniffing the scent on you. the scent that you conceal yourself in—coping with his behaviour by taking as many smoke breaks in the back alley of the place you are working as you can, especially when he is performing on stage and openly flirting with the audience; not knowing the boundaries of his on and off-stage personas. chuckles bubbling from you as you sense him moving around your figure. you peek from the corner of your eyes as you are met with his dark, wide eyes staring at you. his puffs of breath create a pattern as he sniffs you more—now on your hair.

"like you care…" you say, so exasperatedly. wonbin doesn't like it if you are giving him "the attitude", as he usually calls it. but you really, really want to spite him by opening your bag and pulling out a cig for you to light up and smoke in front of him—blowing the steam towards his smug face. but you felt how his heat gets closer and seeps into the fabric of your top from how close he is standing. shivers still running as it forms across your spine involuntarily until he lets go, and then replaces it with the way he lifts your hand that is wrapped in his.

slowly, he moves his head and you feel him sniffing down every patch of your skin, starting from your covered wrist. wonbin's hums signal to you that he could smell the tobacco clearly. your palm begins to sweat as you clench your hand with him holding onto you tightly and unmoving, to set you straight as you gaze the other way from him instead. then, you feel another of his hands touching your waist on the other side—his warm palm resting at its rightful space to hold you still. to hold you so you wouldn't leave like the previous two weeks. and just then, you remembered what you said to him: "like you care."

when you feel the tip of his sharp nose trail up your arms, your thoughts about wonbin start to waver. does he really care for your well-being this whole time, like he does when he asks you to come with him? his presence is your safe haven in the scary and cold atmosphere of seoul when you came here, and how you follow along with his movement—because you trust him so much. wonbin has always been possessive over you, especially when someone has their eyes landing too long on you as he glares at them before bringing you into his proximity. but those rose-tinted glasses were gone. openly sniffing your figure felt too much—like he doesn't trust you when you should be the one not trusting him—yet you are here, wrapped around his fingers once again as his sniffs approach your bicep and his other hand moves to hold your hip.

then, the kisses start. wonbin's trails them up your obscured muscles to your shoulders as your body tenses even more. your senses ignited as he pressed closer to you—letting you feel his growing bulge when his hips brushed against your backside side which made your eyes dilate. his other hand moves to the front as he presses down on your lower tummy, closer to your core that he had claimed. your eyes peeked behind you and trembled in confusion. is he actually serious? is he wanting you again? after many months of him ignoring you while you take care of him, he finally wants you. wonbin's kisses trail your exposed skin on the collarbone like a train track with its clear destination. his destination: approaching the crook of your neck.

you felt the plush of his lips finding the skin of your crook, pressing right underneath your leather collar as you had to blink slowly, taking in the sensation you hadn't had in a while—the one that he usually induces. your tense body starts relaxing in his touch. but then you felt his other hand on the front of your neck, holding onto the clasp of your choker.

everything snaps back into you in the blink of an eye.

power flows through as you finally able to push your limbs away from him, pulling away from his embrace you used to love as you turn around to face him. one hand on your choker as the other on the place where he presses near your nether region—covering yourself away from the intimacy you had shared with him. because now: he is a stranger.

you shake your head, gazing at the man you loved and how you felt the shivers slowly turning to dread. gazing in wonbin's eyes, his eyes that were dark and full of lust, slowly changes. the creases on his face transform as he stares at you—the eyes from two nights before when you openly resist him. the look that you recognised has been lingering beneath the surface every time you caught him in the act and how he doesn't even stop.

"what the fuck?" he said, so menacingly that it made you retreated your steps. you gaze at his empty hands that are now clenched. the veins you had adored when you saw him playing the guitar now look like a characteristic for a side of wonbin that you don't like to see. then, he lifts it up quickly, making you flinch away as you hesitantly look at the front door that is now behind him.

taking quick breaths in succession, you push him with all your might as you run to your shoes, quickly slip into them when your eyes look to wonbin's body, who is rising up from the floor because of your force that knocks him. your figure was already shaking and you didn't even care that you hadn't tied your laces as you opened the unit's door and ran down the hallway.

"you can't get away from me, (y/n)!" he shouted behind you as you continued looking forward. your bag bounces beside you as you swiftly take steps down the flight of stairs—his footsteps still chase after you. your breath is staggering as you try to skip a few spaces of the floor to make your distance farther, nearing the entrance of the apartment tower as you finally push away the door. wonbin's footsteps still pursuing you as you could see his figure from even a tiny glance behind your shoulder. your head turns to the numerous ways you could go as you let your feet bring you away.

your stomps are heavy against pavement in the dead of night, running and running as you still give as much space to how your feet landed on the ground so you couldn't step on your laces and tumbled to the ground to then be captured by him. you don't care if you are jaywalking when the road is empty. you just want to get away from him as much as possible. the darkness quickly surrounds you as you pick the road most obscured, hopefully concealing you from him as you could still hear his steps behind you. you don't want to look back—not like this—as you ran as fast as you could. all of the food you ate last time burns up as you take turns in the dark streets and never look back.

you don't know which road you are taking, but the neon signs become your lodestar as you follow them along. finding a large multilane road that still has vehicles on the road, you press the button to cross to turn it green numerous times. wonbin's footsteps haven't been ringing anymore, but you still felt him so near that you had to push yourself to move again. the lights now radiating on you as you could see your black sleeves having a blue tint on them because of the glow. then, your eyes find the shadows of people across from you: a crowd. a busy street even this late at night. and as the walking man light turns green, you push to jog down the crossing and join the group.

lights then welcomes you as you run up the incline, remembering the road before you, as the road you were driving past when you were with jay. the neighbourhood of myeong dong greets you properly after the brief introduction from the ride on jay's bike. many signboards show advertisements of numerous establishments, such as stores that are still open at this time of the night. your vision lets you observe the many people—more are local than outsiders—but they still create a crowd that you can blend in and lose his presence from behind you. this is the first time in a long time that the nighttime lights save you as you get yourself deeper into the street and the large crowd that gets denser.

your legs are burning after running as fast as possible, pausing your body as you could feel your legs trembling before you brace yourself with your hands on your knees—bending down as you take in deep inhales. finally turning around, the crowd had obscured you from wonbin enough that you could finally stand still and take in the scenery of the bright neighbourhood. you know that you had lost him blocks ago. but when you couldn't see his long hair and white tank top, relief spread across your body as you graze your neck once again, feeling the choker safe and sound. spinning around, you read the signs as you try your best to find the best refuge from the night. that is when the golden arches with the red background and the sign that says 24 hours caught your attention.

dragging your feet against the ground, you approached the entrance way to a mcdonalds. the logo hanging is on top of the exterior above the door as you peer into the glass window to find that it still has a few people eating there. the rumbling in your stomach reacts as you recognise the sign that tells you the menu items. and in resolution, you nodded your head: hoping that this is the refuge that will keep you safe, even just for tonight.

the familiar darkness now covers jay in his rightful place once again, taking in the flowing sonic waves from the speakers that are playing songs coming from the uk trance scene as he could feel how his head is droning alongside the elongated melody of born slippy by underground. taking another drag of his third cig of the night, he nods his head to the thumping beat as he gazes back at his friends who are doing their own shenanigans at their regular booth. seeing them already in a trance of alcoholic bottles scattered on the table with the regular girls sliding into their arms. but he couldn't help but be thinking of you.

the next day, after the day you and he rode around seoul and went to his spot under the bridge, he went back to the street food market—buying some food to fill in his fridge and put on the dining table—and he was hoping to find you there again. the bandana he wore the day before is now gone from his face and rested as a scarf, letting his eyes peer to the street where the underground subway station is located—the same sidewalk he saw you go back and come from when you two met up. but, after an hour of idly standing against his bike, he realises you aren't coming with a scoff coming out of him. and so, jay walks through the crowded pathway full of people buying and sending foods to the tables towards the chinese food street vendor that you both ate from, making him eating there alone as his eyes continue to be alert of your presence—still hoping that you would come as he waits for his takeaway orders to be finished.

it has been a week since that day and he has never seen you again throughout that week. jake had been the one noticing how fidgety jay has become. his friend observes how his eyes are looking at the view of nighttime seoul across the river for far too long—ignoring the food scattered on the metal table—when he feels jake's presence sitting beside him. and one by one, the others start to notice. how jay's quietness is different from the quietness they are used to; because jay's usual attention will still remain at present time when he listens to his friends talking about their college drama with the people he had encountered with before in some part of his life while taking in a drag of the joint nicholas had gotten for all five. yet, jay's attention is elsewhere. that is when euijoo was the first one asking the question that has been written at the space in front of the rest: "are you thinking about the girl that you were running away with?"

and for the first time in their friendship, he hesitated to let out a direct reply. thinking for a few moments more, even if he answers with just a few nods.

after taking a breath, jay let the heavy bass drummed into his ears as he could feel the wall shake from the frequency waves. his burning stick is getting shorter and shorter as he inhales more, making the fire spread closer towards his lips. then, he heard it. the sound he had expected to hear from the past week when he was standing in this very corner.

the sound of a click makes him rotate around as the orange flame blazes up and your facial features appear—glowing from the little source of light before it. your eyes dart up from the flame, greeting him with one look as you let the end of your cigarette between your lips get burned whilst also inhaling, taking in the smoke as he glances at your face. the bruises and strip bandage are now gone as he can finally scan your natural and healthy appearance. yet, he could actually see clearly how your under-eye circles were getting deeper into your skull. that was the last sight that he etched in his mind as the flame is gone with one blow with your lips.

jay's eyes adjust back to the darkness as he can still see you—and you to him. he peers down to still see the reflected silver buckle across the width of your neck: your choker necklace is still on as it becomes something that he will pinpoint about your appearance every time. but your outfit is much more casual, a t-shirt that is a perfect size for you, which doesn't press down on your skin. but also a jean pants that blends in with your top with its dark colour. taking another drag from your cigarette, your eyes met his as he noticed how you were letting out such a soft frown from your curving lips.

"where-"

"i'm sorry for not reaching out," you said in only a whisper he could hear. the smoke coming from your burning cigarette decorates his view as he throws the end to the ground and crushes it once again. yet, the slight spotlight grazing the corner where both of you stand lets him gaze at your features once again. the frown slowly morphs into a smile—a reassuring smile.

"i got a new job though." words come from you as another inhale of the poison lacing your stick as you drag it so deep, some come out from your nostrils before you let your mouth agape, letting the smoke out before blowing the rest. in a way, jay had felt calmer than before. that whatever he did days before—ever so minimal but still in the spirit of concern about you—goes away as he watches you become seemingly happier in return. it is like you have let go of some weight, even if he could detect a few hypothetical ones that are still doing a balancing act on your shoulders. nevertheless, the way your eyes twinkle as you told him makes him feel a sense of pride that you are sharing—a thing that repays every time you pay him food and his action of helping you run from the unknown person that was chasing after you.

"this calls for a celebration," your voice rang out as you peer once again at him, his lips pursed; contemplating your simple proposal. jay's eyes go to the booth where his friends are sitting, noticing jake already looking back when he nudges euijoo beside him: the ones who had directly asked him why he hadn't come to the club recently and know about who you are, even from the short sentences jay tells about you. smiles stretched on both of their faces as they moved their heads in sync—communicating with him in nonverbal gestures visible from where he stands.

jay's head turns towards the back exit beside the dj booth. the trance music continues whirring in a basic instrumental as people are still taking a rest from the beat drops and breakdowns. he returns to face you before pointing at the doorframe with his chin. "take the lead," his gestures said, making you put out the cigarette on the wall beside you. with a brush of a hand that he captures so messily, jay follows your movement as you brought him down the back exit once again. your head turns on a path hastily—seemingly remembering the path down the halls to find the door with the green exit sign. the breeze hits both of you when you open the door, eyeing the alleyway as you retrace the steps that you were taking last time—now with jay towing behind you.

his kawasaki ninja is parked perfectly with no other vehicles parked near it. jay's stride becomes wider as he reaches the bike first, as only a few of your curved fingers are connected with each other. rummaging his pocket for the key, he is one step closer to mounting the vehicle when he hears the sound of quick steps—making him pause when you stand between it and his figure. jay tilted his head at you before scanning through your nervous yet determined face. that twinkle in your eyes is still visible as you pivot your head to the side when you catch onto the motorbike's figure.

"can i control your bike?" your request is simple, but when he starts to let his doubt show, you continue your words. "i ride them back home ever since high school. though i am used to riding scooters, i think i should still be able to find my balance with it." your head gives a small nod at the vehicle behind you.

jay could see the wonder in your eyes that was being blended with a tinge of melancholy as you asked your question. he remembered your words about work, about home which you haven't mentioned where exactly. but, it is your celebration when he voluntarily follows you. he also has a role that helps you get a job now, and this is your way of saying thank you. and so, he walks around you and mounts the bike, pushing the key into the hole. but when you turn around to face him and expect to hear the ignition starting, he kicks the foot peg up and scoots a bit back whilst balancing the bike; leaving the front empty space for you.

"come," he says, eyeing you as you let out a smile when you didn't expect it. slowly, you climb in front of him very awkwardly until both of your feet are on each side of the ground and balance the bike perfectly. the engine roars when you turn the ignition key as you hold the handlebars, familiarising once again with the feeling before you push the bike and turn the handle—letting the bike lurch into the night's streets.

as you lean forward near the gas tank, hands holding tight onto the bars, the velocity makes jay have to lean against you. it feels rare for him to be in the backseat of a bike—especially being the only one among his friends who ride them because they prefer sports cars. so, he gently places his chin on your shoulder; not only because he wants to see how you are handling his bike, but he wants to hear your giggles clearly. the wind brushes both of your hairs back as you follow the lines of the road, even though you can also swerve from the left to the right lanes because there are no other vehicles on the road. then, you eyed the tunnel at the front as you twisted the handle more, feeling another kick from the engine as the bike went into the opening. the growling machinery bounces against the long walls as he observes how your eyes are peering out on the street. his hold on your waist is becoming a little tighter and you don't seem to mind it

then he realised by the euphoric look on your face as you take streets after streets of just sightseeing: you don't know your destination. you still don't know seoul's streets like he does, even with the public transport you are using, which only brings you to certain neighbourhoods that have heavy pedestrian traffic. and so, jay leans into your ear and says, "there's this bar i sometimes go to. do you wanna go there?"

"tell me the path to go there," you reply with a higher volume as he knows that you felt his nod beside your own head.

the night embraces both of you as the lights decorate it. from the business signs to billboards—all have their power on under the raven sky to capture people's attention. but jay's attention is on the street before him and you who is driving the bike. he signals with his voice by your ear on the streets to divert to as you follow along, tailing behind a bus before taking a turn on a smaller street. the bike sounds bounce against the buildings around as the lights here are more subdued. the bike is getting farther and farther from the main streets. and he signals you to the side as you see the small parking lot.

he is the one who steps down from the bike first as you push the foot peg down and turn the key for the ignition off. mounting off from the seat, you let out a big whoop as you tidied up your ruffled hair that is blown by the wind, hearing chuckles coming from jay when he watches your joyful exclamation. slowly, you stand close beside him and tuck your arm with his—letting him take the rein once again.

jay brought you towards the door that blends in too well with the grate that covers the closed small businesses around it. a security guard nods at jay—recognising the boy—and you, who is his plus one, as he pushes inside. dim lights outline the path of where you both are going as you both trek into what looks to be a small and dark bar. an orange light shines around the bar area as you both take a seat on the stools there. the lights shine on jay's side profile, the shadow casting on his sharp and angular face perfectly as you take in his jawline while he is talking to the bartender on what he would like to order before he turns to you.

when his eyes are on you, you can feel how your heart is pulsating. his cold gaze to others is warm to you—like a flame being lit up that attracts you like a wanderer in a dark forest walking closer to a burning campfire. it feels like a refuge, a refuge you could trust yourself to be comfortable with after the past days where you had to gather most of your things and move them away to a location that ningning, and especially wonbin, doesn't know. tiring away your days and nights from practising with your bosses on how to work the ice cream machine and how to deep fry stuff—helping them with their businesses until late at night and even until closing time.

"i'll go with the same," the bartender nods at your impromptu response when you realise that you took too long to answer the question. and with him leaving, you and jay remained there quietly. the place is bustling with mostly the sound of music playing that is nearing the end—but it is a place meant to be used to socialise quietly, unlike the pub you worked at before or the club you and jay meet. there is a shine of uv lights on one side of the room that makes it purple, creating a beautiful contrast with warm orange light. as you heard the song vibrating around the room, you glance around to find a bright jukebox near where you are both sitting—the sound coming out from it.

the bartender set down the glasses of daiquiri before you both as jay's head shook rhythmically whilst listening to the jazz song playing from the jukebox. you pick up the glass and immediately take a drink as you feel the icy liquid freshen you up, looking at the beverage glass you sip from before turning towards jay, who is only onto his.

"ah, sorry," you push the glass to meet his with a little clinking sound as you reply with, "cheers."

jay blinks his eyes, but he grows a smirk on his face before taking a sip of his own daiquiri. you both were sitting there peacefully, even though it seems that you two are in a more casual outfit than the other patrons look like. the bar does seem to be more or less like a speakeasy would look like—hidden with not many people knowing to keep that exclusivity. with the brashness of the pub and music venue you frequented for work or to gaze at the performing band, this is the place that you've been searching for to mix up your nights. a place that lets you drink, but still lets you think alongside it. abling you to think about everything you need to figure out in your life, especially with your relationships and all. to, at least, balance them all as best as you could.

"(y/n)," the deep voice calls for you as you glance at jay—his face already fronting yours as you see his irises flickering up and down, taking in you clearly with the better lighting. "why'd you need a new job?"

the question is so profound for you, as with only a number of people here you personally know in this very city, they never ask you about many of your reasons for decision making. why did you move away? why did you join them? what will you do? your beating heart continues as you think of your answer, a succinct yet understandable one.

"well," you lick your bottom lip. "as you know, i'm not from seoul. i'm from a little island near busan called geoje, and uh…" you let out an exhale, "i moved here to help get money for my mom. my dad passed away when i was still in middle school, so she is the one taking care of me until i graduated, while taking jobs here and there. and when i had the opportunity to go to seoul, she pushed me to do it. and here i am now." nods of your head ended your words as you take another sip of your cocktail, letting the alcohol buzz you. your hand gestures an open palm to him—an offer for him to continue the conversation.

"you know that i'm a business major. it's because my family owns a business here. logistics." you look to his eyes, the way they scrunch alongside his nose. "we're not chaebols, though we do work with them. but honestly," he shakes his head before peering back to you, "i don't really like that side of the social world."

you scoffed as you play with the rim of your glass, tracing around it that you can already guess costs a huge amount of heat temperature to shape them. "funny how different we are economy-wise. yet here we are, in this chaos that is seoul. running around nocturnally because the day stings us."

eyes looking at how his smirk widens and nods his head as he agrees with your words—letting the bar's atmosphere swallow you into its depths. your stool had scooted closer to him, letting your forearm which is resting on the counter brush against his. you noticed how his knuckles have scars on them and the calluses on his fingertips that is so familiar to wonbin's. those fingertips were the ones you noticed on him when you first sat down at the table with the rest of the five during your slow shift at the eatery, brushing your fingers against wonbin's unconsciously as your marred hands join in with each other's. and you do so with jay.

your fingers reach between his, brushing the calluses on his fingertips as you feel the electric spark. none of you are talking about anything as the silence clasps you both—talking isn't really the defining part of your relationship when you can understand his intentions just by gazes and non-verbal gestures. then, you felt it. how his fingers are also moving to brush against yours, slotting themselves between your fingers before curling against them: locking you into a small yet assuring embrace that tells how he is there for you—no matter how unconventional.

senses heightened as you felt his warmth transfer onto you, but you can also feel how your heart is clenching because of the familiarity. your acute hearing now makes you realise that the music had stopped, making you glance towards the jukebox as you let go of his small embrace; startling the boy when you stand up and stride away from him.

with a hand inside your bag, you walk by to see the jukebox's intricate design. a line of vinyl discs waiting to be picked as you pull out the coins and plunge them into the coin slot. the machine whirls on as you see the lights by the number pad. randomly, you pressed down a number as you see the machine pushing out the disc you pick. a metal hand picks it up and places it on the turntable, seeing it spins as the tonearm moves above the vinyl disc and pushes down—letting the needle read the grooves on the disc as you read the spinning album name in the middle while a loud guitar melody plays.

the beatles' rubber soul.

you have heard of the beatles numerous times because of wonbin. many times he had said that the beatles is his favourite band of all time, but he only had three of their albums. rubber soul is not one of them. yet, the sensation of how you are trying to forget about your ex-boyfriend instead is being torn down when you hear the familiar voice of paul mccartney. and combining that with how tipsy you have gotten from the near-finished glass of your daiquiri, you knew that you needed to get out of this place and get out of that space your ex-boyfriend brings you every time an item reminds you of him.

get out to run from ever thinking of everything as wonbin even when you are not near him—physically and emotionally.

and so, you run. the sound of someone's voice calling your name brushes away from the gush of speed as you retreat the steps you have gone through, climbing up the flight of stairs with floor lamps on each side of the path before being met with seoul's cold night atmosphere once again. with your tipsy vision, you are attracted to one side of the road where the lights are shining bright. the nearest subway station should be that way as your feet brought you towards it in auto-pilot—like a moth flying to a flame that is getting brighter and brighter with blue fire—much more attractive but also more dangerous. tears are free-falling down your cheeks as you mentally slap yourself on why you are thinking about wonbin when you are with jay.

you should be fucking ashamed of yourself. jay doesn't deserve someone like you, who can't even separate your ex-boyfriend from yourself.

footsteps are chasing after you—reminding you of when you escape from your apartment tower before wonbin ever catches you—and with a surge of adrenaline kicking in your tired self, you push yourself to run. but the footsteps behind you were quicker and you felt yourself being enveloped in a full-on embrace. the quiet cries you were letting out, turning into wails as you hold onto that memory, the boy that you once loved now hunting you down throughout the city as you feel more and more unsafe. that is when you heard jay's voice coming from your right ear.

"i'm here," he spoke only to you as your head lulls, body trembling whilst he holds you upright. lifting your hands up, you cover your face and let the dark consume you once again. yet, his hands don't let go. every touch on your body that reminds you of wonbin is all being cleared by jay, especially when he scented you that night. you turn around his arms and wrap your own around him, feeling his broad shoulders as you hide your face into the crook of his neck. jay's hand brushes down your spine in a soothing way—the same way your mom gave you when you hugged her for the last time before joining wonbin and his gang in their van on your way to seoul.

even if jay was looming over you like a shadow, his embrace feels like a blanket against the cool temperature. you brought your head beside his ear, whispering, "bring me to the spot under the bridge," and you felt him nod against your shoulder.

riding behind him once again, your blurry eyes take in the seoul streets as you hold onto him tightly. your trembling body becomes unnoticeable in the velocity of the ride as the lights then go out of your vision and are replaced by the streetlights as the road goes downwards from the hilly areas. the glimmering highrises look like stars from far away as the bike arrives at the parking lot of the river. you eyed the snack bar near the pathway beside the river's edge as you stepped down from the bike and rushed past jay towards the bench under the bridge, finding solace in being undetected as your body continues to shake.

jay follows you as your hand leans on the metal table before bringing you to sit on the bench, hands finding your waist as he lets you snuggle into him once again. under the bridge, you both sit there as the void of the night tells you both how alone you are. under the vastness of stars, light, and raven-colored sky, you only have each other.

he felt your hand lift off as jay turns to look at it, moving towards your neck as you tug on the choker that felt more tightening than ever. so, jay reacted; brushing your hair aside as he found the clasp that looked like a belt buckle and gently took it off. you take a huge inhale when you feel the tightness off of your neck as he pulls it into his palm, making you turn your head towards him with his free hand on your jaw. jay looks downward at the neck, checking for any marks on your neck that are a sign of the accessories being worn too tightly. instead, he found a mark that rested in the middle between the two edges of the choker; the colour of the skin is different from your natural tone. the line is small across the middle of the neck, but it's wider nearest the middle. then, with his widened eyes, he realised what the mark meant.

"i haven't been truthful with you," you can now say as you watch his eyes focused on the mark left behind on the column of your neck. the memories—remembering your trembling hand as you hold onto the kitchen knife against the skin, ready to end it all. slowly and slowly, letting out your truth, understanding that you are comfortable to make him know.

"i worked at the pub with the music venue near the club, where my ex-boyfriend performs. he was, is…" you shake your head as jay moves to cup your face, brushing your tears away as you didn't realise more of the fat drops coming out. "i don't love him anymore. yet, he is still stringing me around, giving me hope and breaking it all the time until i had enough. so, i decided to get a new job to leave him behind and i have been going to the club when i had the chance to get away. to your club."

"not my club," he instantly replies.

"you know what i mean," you answered back as he nods—how you refer to the club as the place that you both meet, "but yeah. i'm trying to live my life here and away from him as possible if i could. it also means doing activities at night so that i can't go and find him fucking someone at the venue."

jay takes in your words and arrange them carefully to make all of it makes sense. that you are from geoje who goes to seoul to find a job to help your mom back home, working in a pub where you meet your boyfriend there and he seems to be the cheating type, especially if the mark on your neck means something that he was thinking. his eyes study into yours, dilate with wide pupils as you take in as much of the light as possible from the darkness—the darkness that you deem to be a haven. under his embrace, your presence shakes him so much that he worries about your well-being. he is then being reminded of the scars that bruised your face when he first noticed you, adding that to note when you mentioned this ex-boyfriend of yours. a beautiful face undeserving of being marked that way. and also, to the way you could still understand him even with how minimal he talks, as he only opens his mouth if necessary—information exchange, guidance, greetings, and farewells.

the loomer that jay is now recognises that you are a full loomer like him—to escape whatever life you are living in the comfort of the dark—adding to that is your mindset that he has been piecing together like puzzle pieces, creating an image he can identify. you had lived an interesting he wished he had lived. but there is more to it when all he wants to do is to stay by your side and be with you in the many life-changing decisions you are going through right now.

jay also realises that he has fallen in love with you, that he wants to protect you and become your comfort. it's the reason why he is the one leaning forward first, connecting his lips to yours as he closes his eyes.

the sparks you felt when you brushed your fingers with his now turn into megawatts that could light a huge advertisement billboard when he kisses you. your eyes are still open, staring into his closed lids as you can't believe what is happening. from your mind, even with the encounters you have that can be counted with fingers, you know he isn't someone who expresses his feelings freely. it's the reason why his company—including his ignorance of you when standing in the same corner as he is—still feel as comfortable as ever. because he isn't nosy like other boys who see you as a target. yet, you felt something deeper with him when he wants to help you evade wonbin, when he wants to help you explore seoul and find a job; though you aren't fully open to the circumstances that you are in. something that is so unconditional that you haven't felt in a long time. and here you two are, kissing under the bridge beneath the stars that shine on seoul.

with your heart now beating not out of fear, you close your eyes and move your lips against his, taking in the way he moves as you let him take the lead—eyelashes caressing his and a hand resting on his nape. jay's hands move to cup both of your cheeks so delicately as your lips move to accommodate him. more and more sparks continue to pop and you feel shivers running down your spine. it spreads wider as you sense one of his hands move under your jean-covered thigh, signalling you to move as he pushes you so you could straddle him. the sigh coming out of between your lips makes him push his tongue to greet yours. kisses now opening more as you also try to suck on his tongue. his hands move to splay across your shoulder blades as yours move to brush his hair.

the fresh air skims against your skin when you perceive the coolness of both of your salivas on your lips. jay's head moves downwards, to your jaw and then to your neck. he focuses on there, kissing your scar numerous times from one side to another as you let out a sigh, leaning back to give him more expanse of your skin as you lightly bite on your lip, eyes gazing at the steel bars holding the structure upright above you, before glancing to find the lights on the other side of the path under the bridge. yet, they couldn't distract you from jay who is kissing your scar like crazy. like he is replacing that scar with his kisses instead, and you like it.

pulling him away with a tug of his hair, you push your head downwards as you places your forehead against his. and finally, he opened his eyes. the whites in them are nearly overtaken as he darts up at you, taking breaths to stabilize himself while you gaze into the beautiful darkness of his eyes. you take in jay's scent—the familiar woody cigarette scent now adding to your comfort trigger as you slowly brush his hair with your fingers. your eyes are slowly tearing up as you blink them away, glancing at his temple instead of his face.

"thank you," you state, not knowing what to say with the overwhelming emotions you are experiencing.

"i'm here for you." jay echoes what he said the last time when he embraces you, adding more to the list in your mind that compares him and wonbin. and so, you let out a small smile and hug him fully. his head resting beside yours on your shoulder as his cuddle continues to relax you. yet, the tears in your eyes continue to form and now fall down from the brimming eyelids. jay could definitely hear your sniffers as you felt him squeezing you tighter. but when he realises that the tears that wet his top are because you can now cry cathartically—he was wrong.

from your standpoint, the tears that have been falling from your eyes ever since jay hugs you are definitely full of joy, the first real joy you had felt in this city. but it is also the tears that have a tinge of guilt because you know that this could be the last time you feel his warmth again—you won't be able to when you go home.

jay had never been so dependent on his cell phone since the first time he got it back when he was in his freshman year of university the gloomy green hue of the screen stares back at him in the dark as he had always expected your message to come in. in regular intervals like the documents coming in from the fax machine full of reports that he had to scan through. as promise from last week, you had been keeping him up with texts and he to you as well.

(y/n) - 10.55 pm ive dun my shift

words that he could easily decipher, knowing that sms are being counted per character you are sending and the limited keyboard options, such as no apostrophes and periods, unlike the keyboard wired to his computer.

you have always been a part of his life ever since you told him of your job—well, when he discovered your job by himself. his eyes widened as he finds you manning the counter of the snack bar nearest to his regular spot at the han river bank—telling with your eyes that "yes, this is the job i told you about." ever since then, whenever his gang wants to buy food whilst hanging out and smoking joints on their bench underneath the bridge, he is the one that is coming there; letting your presence enter his grace as he points out the orders his friends are wanting from the back of his mind.

yet, you haven't kept up with him anymore today. all constant text you have texted in regular intervals disappears in an instant. the last message sent was from last night, 10.55 pm, when you finished your shift.

he pulls his cell phone out and looks down to find no notification number with your name attached to it, letting the booming techno music enter one of his ears and go out the other. jay blinks slowly, hoping that after his singular blink, he could see your name inside the shaded rectangle and a "1" showing up alongside the word "message received". but none came at all. and so, he leans back against the wall once again. the burning cigarette was nearing the end as he could feel the heat getting hotter and hotter close to his fingers.

as he crushed the cig under his foot, jay thinks back on your words from last week. how he felt something even when you only looked at him in a glance at the snack bar whilst taking care of many orders, to the characters of your message that entered his phone and how it also reflects how you speak in real life. a voice full of curiosity, yet it has a tinge of tiredness as well. his eyes landed on the exit sign above the main entrance. to the establishment you had spoken about near this very club.

for first time in a while, jay voluntarily steps out of his shadowy corner.

the boys also seem to notice it, eyes sticking onto their friend's figure who glides on the floor towards the entrance, moving in tandem with the crowd so he doesn't bump into them, and jay disappears into the other side of the room. the boy's eyes met the bouncer—who looks at him weirdly for going out so early in the night—as he gives a curt nod. he pulls his cigarette box, pushing one of the sticks out as he bites it between his lips. hands expertly moving to grab his lighter as the familiar click rings to him, letting the blunt burn as he peers from side to side—knowing the venue you meant as it is something he had gone past many times. with a step forward and another, he takes off into the shadowy night.

the orange flame on the end of the cigarette tells everyone outside of the vicinity of the shadow of jay's presence. his footsteps clear on the silent asphalt street where most of the people are inside the building; dancing, drinking, and fucking the night away. but his eyes are focused on one side of the road, looking between the entrances of buildings that are closed for the night to scan the ones in between them. from small restaurants to other club entrances.

his eyes landed on one with spotlights shining on the wall, posters of up-and-coming bands plastered there alongside their schedules—seemingly like regular performers as he couldn't see a specific date on the texts. only hours and days. he heard the sound of guitar strums muffled by the layers of walls. jay looks up and down at the entrance's appearance, seeing the name of the pub that you had mentioned before—confirming that this is the place you have talked about numerous times, even if it's not directly named. the security guard at the inside of the entrance stands as jay shows him his ID, before he moves sideways to let him in.

walking through a short hallway, the guitar sounds get louder and louder when he is met with open space. the bar is nearest to him as he looks at the other side of the room to find a performing band standing on stage. a four-person band, two on guitars, one on bass, and one on the drums. one of the guitarists seems to be the frontman with the mic stand erected in front of him as he sings into it—his bright voice constructing a source of light in the otherwise dark room. his hair is long with his bangs floppy near the corner of his lips, making the audience whoon as he swipes it away behind his ear. a smug showing in his face, yet jay's mouth could only taste bitterness.

that guy was exactly like how you mentioned your ex-boyfriend to be.

taking a few steps forward, the stage expands as jay continue to watch the band playing. the frontman playing the guitar so loosely, he couldn't help but compare it to how he plays guitar in his spare time. like it had become such a routine, the frontman doesn't need to exert more of his passion into it. and as the song comes to an end, the band plays a few last notes before ending with a huge ending for a flashy performance. cymbals ringing alongside the guitar chords before it stops, and is replaced by the cheering. audiences' hands raised up from clapping to waving as the frontman flips his guitar behind him, unplugging the amplifier cable before bowing his head to the audience. then he steps away as jay's sight continues to follow his figure. walking to the side of the stage when he finally sees two girls standing side by side. one with a smile on her face and the other has an indifferent expression.

you.

everything that he sees is behind the layer of shadows—ignored by the spotlight that is fixed to beam the stage. the frontman walks to approach you as jay can see your every expression with another step forward. the plain look on your expression is imbued with a little melancholy as you then smile when the boy stands before you. then, he hugs you first, your head appearing by his shoulder as he watches how your arms wrap behind the boy's figure, eyes looking at his head from the corner of your eyes before letting yourself close your eyes. jay's breath hitches as he continues to stare, eyes looking at your face with closed eyes when the frontman pulls back and pushes you again. now: to kiss you.

even from afar, he could see how you reacted. your hands gripping onto his shoulder as the female friend steps aside from the two of you, making him press you against the wall as the boy's body covers most of you. and as the band members collect their money alongside the female who moves away, jay's eyes are still on you as the boy moves you around so he could see the sides of both of the figures. then, he turns you around, pushing his chest to your back as his head moves down to your neck. his hands move to the waist that jay had held before to then as he sees the frontman's hand rising up to your black tank top. the lines on your face creased as jay could see the boy's hands giving a squeeze where your breasts are, making your hands reach up to them.

jay's body is now shaking, watching as you fall into the arms of the frontman—who he now knows is what you claimed to be your ex-boyfriend. yet, an ex should push away whenever they touch you. but you don't?

his eyes become seethingly blurry with how hard he squeezes his hands. nostrils flaring as he watches how you let yourself go in your ex's embrace. he shakes his head. surely not. surely you don't only see him as a rebound? is he a rebound? his heart aches more and more as jay continues to look at your face. the face that has been crying and smiling in his arms is now unfamiliar. that is, until he sees you tilt your head to look straight, opening your eyes to realise the location you are in, before letting them wander and meet with his sight.

the tears start to form instantly in your eyes as you look across to see jay. his nose crunched up as he examined between you and the boy who was groping you. jay nods his head before stepping away to the entrance. a dread made of an imaginary ice-cold water flows down onto your body as you quickly grip and claws wonbin's hand, disgust overwhelming you as you can't believe yourself for falling back once again in his embrace. you were so strong, yet you limp in his arms when you only wanted to be there to say your final farewell—to put this all in closure. to tell him to stop tracking you down again, in the nicest way possible. but it is impossible to do so with him when he still knows that you haven't fully let go of your wrap around his finger.

with a surge of shame and rage, you turned around and pushed wonbin away, staggering him as he was taking more time to balance himself with his guitar on his back. a smirk showing on his face like he knew, he knew what he was doing by taking advantage of you. and, it seems like he knew about the existence of jay, too.

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!" you screamed, catching the attention of every one in your vicinity. you take a few steps as you point to his chest multiple times.

"we're done and i should've said it yesterday," you said succinctly before walking away from—finally—your ex-boyfriend as you chase down jay's figure that must have been where you were minutes before. hurried walks claim you as you jump and skip towards the entrance and find the front where the performers' posters are stuck. eyes wandering around on the street as you picked up your phone, clicking the button open to press the number listed first in your contacts.

the line rings as you press it up against your ear. bottom lip slowly being bitten as you just want to know where he will be going—scrambling your mind and awaiting for him to pick up the call. it rings longer and longer as you realise he is not picking up and you dropped the hand holding the phone. then, you gaze at one side of the road; the path that you have always recognised when you need to escape this very place. and you run.

shadows surround you with streetlights becoming beacons, yet your feet are stepping onto the clear road swiftly, making the light unable to capture you anyway. you eyed the shiny entrance of the club. the familiar bouncer greets you as you step inside.

techno music makes the room vibrate as you have to wrap your arms in front of you. feeling your exposed shoulders brushing against people's bodies as your eyes are stuck to one corner of the room, a corner so dark to see from the outside. yet, you are very much attracted to it and the boy who resides there.

as you step into the barrier of darkness, his name flew out of your mouth.

"jay?" it rings. bouncing on the corners of the wall as your hand reaches out, trying to feel something warm and sturdy. but, you are instead being met with a rough-textured wall on the side where he usually stands. the side where he is so close to the barrier of the corner, the dj booth becomes a background of your view of him. panic began to show up as you turned around to look outside of the shadow, eyes seeing the booth with faces that you had recognised from meeting time to time in the past week. jay's friends.

as you approach, you see two of them making out with girls who are sitting on their laps. another wiping their nose of powder, and the one by the edge of the booth holding onto his glass full of vodka with coke on the melting rocks. his eyes, as well as the girl that snuggling beside him, look towards you when you approach.

"(y/n). right?" the last guy you noticed asks.

"yeah…" you looked around the booth as you scanned the view of it all. the boys all dress like how jay dresses, yet their behaviour is more open, extroverted—especially in contrast to the way jay lives his life. jay is the darkness that supports the neon colours of his friends' presence behaviour—creating the completeness of their friend group.

"do you know where jay is?" the question easily slips out of your lips as the two couples who were making out had stopped. one of the boys, who is letting a girl kiss him down his jawline, nudges the friend who was asking, like he knows some information and for him to say it.

"i don't know. he just went outside. earlier than what we used to see," the boy says, making you nod your head as you gesture back to them with an open palm to your chest. a small "thank you" coming from you as you turned back towards the entrance of the club.

if jay was not in the club, he must be somewhere you know—a place you and he have familiarised with. his favourite place in this hellhole of the city.

the nighttime's darkness permeates across the tunnels connecting the nearest exit to the concourse of the subway train. the usual crowded hallways are now filled only with you. your feet walk you down the path you are used to, standing on the moving escalator that runs between pillars that are holding the building above to not crush at the place you are standing. the whirlling of the machine enters your ears along with the sounds of the footsteps and the air conditioning fan that lets fresh air into the underground.

your eyes continue to look down on your sneakers-covered legs even as the train is moving. your body's buzzing all throughout because you are still, deep down, hoping that jay will be where you guess he will be. his motorcycle can take him anywhere he wants, from myeong-dong to gangnam to the hidden bar you both find yourself in for a different atmosphere take you haven't fully taken note of the location yet. and as the sound of the announcement rings through the near-empty train cars, saying the name of your stop, you push yourself up from the seat and let your body move on autopilot. down the familiar hallways, to the step out to the concrete ground outside, and finally, the path with trees and shrubs around it.

finally looking up, you gaze upon the beautiful view across from your figure; of the buildings with lights on, showing their occupancy even if there is no one in there for the night. you eyed the small shack you have called home for a week now—figuratively and literally—as you peer towards the open space under the bridge full of benches and tables for people to shield themselves from the sun, the rain, and the city. your eyes glance at the spot under the bridge, squinting your eyes ever so slightly to find something that reflects the light in the dark of what looks to be a white takeaway plastic bag. a smile grows instantly on your face before it falls as you take a deep breath and move forward.

"jay?" he could hear your voice calling from beside him, yet his eyes were stuck on the blinking needle on top of the tallest tower across the river. yet, you won't stop even if he doesn't answer.

jay sensed you sitting beside him, your thighs touching his as on his face formed a faint scowl that hurt you more as he continued to—softly—ignore you.

"i'm sorry," your words caught his attention, making him peek at you from the corner of his eyes slightly before returning to the scenery, "for making you see me that way. it's my fault i accepted it. And yeah, who you see with me is my ex-boyfriend, wonbin. the one that i told you about."

your hands grasp each other on your lap and you continued with your eyes closed shut, "i'm sorry for lying to you. i only had broken up with him officially right at that moment when i noticed you were there. i'm sorry for guiding you along like that. for the texts i have been sending to fill with only half-truths. for the many things i have to hide, knowing that everything i talked about will then be spread like what my friend says to him and-"

you felt warmth on top of your hands, looking down to see jay's on top of yours, curling his fingers to clasp onto them. "one by one," his comment so simple as you nodded. and so, you tell him everything. everything that you have been planning for the past week or two since you decided to live separately from wonbin's unit. context that will paint your situation for him completely, with no remorse.

"i am collecting enough money to fulfil my target for my mom and then go back home to geoje. seoul is not for me at all. i miss the slow pace style of living, thinking of trivial things on a daily basis. to be greeted by the sea every time you wake up and look out from your window." you gulped down. one explanation down as you skim at jay to find him looking back at you.

"i met wonbin, his bandmates, and their female friend when they were on a trip to geoje, finding themselves in the eatery i was working in. i was the only one on that shift with the owner as the chef alongside the barista for the drinks." a small smile grows on your face when the memories of the first encounter plays in your mind. "they were all so lovely, asking me to sit with them as we converse when i see that this particular guy—wonbin—is staring at me. so, i know at that moment that he is attracted to me. they asked me about many things and they came to know me well from the information they gathered. how i speak, how i think, how i perceive. especially wonbin, who could read it like it is written with big and thick-styled penmanship. so, they asked me to go to seoul with them when they're going back."

a scoff coming out of your lips as you remember more from that to continue, "i was thinking they were only kidding me. but i realise that they were serious, specifically after they all see this metaphorical glow when wonbin and i converse because we find a lot of things in common. i discuss with my mom about whether i should move away or not and all its many factors. i know that i still also some opportunities if i stay to work in busan, closer to my mom if she needs anything she can't get it herself so i could get the earliest bus and ride it to geoje. but, she convinces me to go to seoul. saying to me about bigger opportunities and such, but also taking risks for my life as well. so i go and as a result, wonbin and his friends are my lifelines here."

peeking back at jay, he had already turned his upper body to face you, his eyes telling you to continue on as you nodded, "wonbin and i established ourselves as officially dating when we arrived in seoul. though i do think the way he is seeing me transforms into a groupie persona towards the last few months. he never treats me seriously and only thinks of me as, like, this doll he owns. placing his hands on me whenever a customer gets to close to me whilst i was working at the pub. as months goes, i realised that he is very unloyal, fucking other girls behind my back even if we are in the same vicinity. it makes me feel so… limited." you rubbed your hands, "that people aren't on my side even when i talk about it. so, i started pushing the limits and went to the club that his friends introduced me to after a gig. during that escapade alone, i stayed in that corner a few times. not realising you were there with me."

you quickly put your hanging back on your lap, feeling your shoulder becoming lighter from the weight. "i realised i was at rock bottom. no other friends to confide in. no known familial connections with. no money for myself because i have to take care of our day-to-day lives. killing myself would probably be the easiest way out because i don't have anyone else here other than wonbin and his friends also enabling that, even the female friend who i wish would understand me more. one night, i decided to pull out a kitchen knife and," your hand forms into a gripping motion, placing it by your neck, "put it right there on my skin. the sharpness pierces through the surface as i felt warm blood flowing down. thinking about the hardships overshadowing the opportunities, about not being able to explore, and being stuck like i am in a cage."

with a hiss, you dropped your fist. "then, my mom's face shows up, she who is alone in geoje only with my extended families, expecting me to have fun and live my life happily here. i realised that i was selfish for wanting to go when i still have someone who is looking forward to my future no matter how it goes. so, i stopped and quickly wrote a letter to be sent to her, saying that i will be going home in a couple of months."

you brush your hair, feeling the cathartic turmoil that itches your skin as you are pouring everything out to jay; letting him know every truth to him. "then, around last month now. i decided to move out of wonbin's place to our shared female friend's unit. sleeping there at night but still getting my clothes and belongings out of his unit one by one when i found him fucking someone on our bed. he was blacked out drunk and pissed and so he beat me down, bruising my face that even his fucking paramour pitied me so much she rescue me from him. the next day, i walked away from the pub as we had an argument and how he doesn't even apologize to the bruises i have on my face. so i went to the club and to the corner when i finally realised you are there. that's where you come in, saving me as wonbin is chasing me down."

a chuckle came out of you, "the day after it, when you brought me home to the apartment tower and i told you about finding a new job, he tried to fuck me and my body is struggling to held on the morals i have set. to stop him. so when he found me living in his friend's place, he pushed himself on me. i realised that whatever plan i try is not going to work anymore and i have to act quick. i refuged somewhere else that night." jay's eyes shook as you told him what happened after he left, his head tilting down to cower himself before you.

"when i got the job at the snack bar, i realised he was tracking me down. so, every single thing i own in his apartment that i have taken out has to also move as i don't feel safe in that apartment tower anymore because he shows up again the next day and hangs out with our shared friend like nothing ever happened between us. i try my best to be hidden from him—sneakily sneak off in my shift until i secured the job and told the manager at the pub i resigned—and many more things. you and your friends are the only ones who know i work in that snack bar." you look at the small building across from you, feeling how his hand is staying still in yours.

jay is sitting there in silence, head tilted back up to glance at you. his hand move to curl more against yours as he collects the words he wants to say, but first and foremost, the word that you deserve to hear after every single puzzle piece is now here and how he solved it fast—seeing the bigger picture.

"i'm sorry for not protecting you enough." his words enter your ears, making your body tense as you peer at him, feeling the walls that are making you so sturdy melt away. jay flips your hand and lets his fingers lock in between yours. "where are you staying?"

"well," you eyed the shack near the river once again before turning to him, "come with me."

the boy lets you guide his movement with the interlocked hands, walking closer and closer towards the building you work at, where only the exterior lights are on—telling its presence there for the night owls like him and you. jay looks down and notices the glint of light in your hand as you both walk toward the door labelled "staff only", putting the key into its hole as you turn it and hear the clicking of the lock. pushing the door open and walking inside, a small luminescnet orange light greets jay as he surveys the room. the shelves nearest to the door have items labelled ranging from flours to oils—the area is where the snack bar stores its inventory. but behind that small lamp is a dark corner of the room. his familiar eyes to the darkness let him find a few bags and a suitcase residing beside a makeshift bed made of cardboard, a pillow, and a towel for the duvet. the space between his eyebrows wrinkled as he turned back to you, making you let out a thin smile.

"i convince my bosses i can open and close the store because i practically have nothing else to do. i've been staying here and they don't know about it." jay walks closer whilst hearing you talk, examining your living conditions now when he sees dried wax from candles gather into one spot, making him turn towards where the light comes from to see it being a candle placed on a small ceramic plate. "i've been using a bunch of candles so that they couldn't detect that i'm staying here by the electricity meter." you spoke out, looking at the corner you've been calling home. even with its less-than-likely situation, you felt safer here than staying at ningning's when wonbin could just barge into the room.

"i wanted to buy some groceries for myself today when i came across wonbin. he's egging me on again about me 'not being confident in him' and all that stuff. we are technically separated, but not once have i verbalised that we are over because i just think that he had already stopped seeing me that way." your expression becomes a faint frown as you sigh.

"for one last time, i trust him, so he brings me back to his friends and to the venue once again. them asking about my whereabouts and i had to stay as quiet as possible so they couldn't track me down for him. love is finicky when you still feel the feelings for the person you love so confidently in front of you. wonbin is better at performing than the first time i saw him and i'm very proud of him for that. but, my body is just…" a huge exhale came out of you, "too familiar with him that whenever he touches me. like a snap," you say while doing a snap!, "i lost control. i realised i have never been in control when i am with him, but then i saw you and start to think about the things i have taken control for myself to get rid of him. the last one is to reclaim that control of mine on him. and so i did and chase down after you."

you turn around and face him, stepping closer as you look at him with remorse, "you've been the most supportive person i have had in a while. i apologise for stringing you along for whatever has happened in this short relationship we had. you're my saviour not only from wonbin, but from the harshness of seoul. you've made me less lonely, though i know you like to be alone even under the neon signs at night. i don't know if you still want to be friends, or whatever this is, with me. but i thank you for that. and when the time comes and i have enough to meet my financial target, i will buy the first ticket back to geoje no matter how expensive-"

his body acts after you say your last words, leaning in to kiss your breath away. your eyes blink into close as your frown fades and are replaced with furrowed eyebrows before he lets go. his breath blows on your skin as he glances you in the eyes. "i don't know if i could let you go that easily."

jay moves his head back to let you see his face as a whole, words are forming on the tip of his tongue, of something he wanted to say to you. "i have fallen for you, (y/n). i have fallen for your enthusiasm to learn, your bravery, and your resilience. as i said the last time, i'm here for you." his hand connected with yours. "you can stay with me. live with me and we will see how this goes for us."

"i don't want to burden you like that-"

"you won't be burdening me," jay replies immediately, a smirk shows on his face as he continues, "you've been making me less lonely as well."

a tear fell down the corner of your eye and when you wanted to wipe it away, jay beats you to it as you felt his thumb pressing down your cheek. "let me help you." he mumbles of for you. and with a long breath, you nodded at his words as you leaned into his hand that was cupping your face.

jay mounted the bike first as he put your travel bag in front of him, the plastic bag of the takeaway from the chinese food street vendor hanging on his left handlebar, and you carefully mounted the vehicle behind the suitcase to create a barrier for him and you as you stood with your heavy backpack—slowly hugging the huge bag and to some of its space on your lap as you gently move on the seat.

"will you be okay?" the engine revving by him at the front, as you're scared the bike will tumble out of balance.

"i'll keep it slow," jay replied, and with a push, the bike lurches. the way jay rides the bike is very clean; gone are the swerves between cars as he stays in one lane the entire time, even if the streets are mostly empty. but the wind still blows against both of your hairs as you look around the cityscape of seoul. the buildings that were were getting denser and denser as jay brought you to his neighbourhood, further away from the main streets.

parking at the residential parking lot, he helps you with the suitcase as you carry the travel bag and backpack full of your important belongings. you both enter the apartment tower and realise how clean it looks. no cracking walls and chipping paint, the tiles are placed so smoothly that you couldn't see the edges of each individual tile. the flight of stairs from your last apartment tower is replaced by a lift replaced as he presses the button open for you. silence spreading against the surfaces as you stood beside each other, sensing the floor beneath you ascending to the destination.

jay walks before you, dragging the suitcase by the handle as he stands in front of a door, pushing in the key before unlocking it. stepping inside, the first room you see is dimly lit with a tint of blue from the luminescent light—similar to the ambience of your space in the storage room of the snack bar. but, as you push your shoes off by the front door and step onto the floor made by wooden panels, you can see the room expanding. a kitchen area by the door that houses a little aquarium with a bunch of colourful small fishes. a personal computer sits on a desk near a window overlooking the view of the streets down below and the skyline visible from this floor.

the boy steps aside as he lets you look around the space. your eyes studied the surface of the coffee table to see documents, numerous documents of black ink on white paper scattered around. many of them are pristine printing, but some have some handwriting on them—like a study case for someone who is learning. you then move towards the window of the living area, finding a desk full of CDs in their cases and two guitar cases beside it—both electric and acoustic—making a pout form on your face.

"water?" you heard him say beside you as he hands you a glass of water. picking it up, you drink it down and don't stop—not realising how dehydrated you have been. you gulp all of it down until there is nothing left before placing it down on the coffee table. turning back towards his figure, he had pulled off his leather jacket and placed it on the couch, letting you see his build in the black t-shirt. how sturdy his shoulders look as you have leaned on them time to time on the bike that he rides.

your hand reaches out to him—fingers moving from curling to stretching—as he turns and meets yours with his. that is when he pulls you in and makes you stand before him. his free hand spread on your back, pushing you against him as he looks into your eyes with his own that is full of something that you have never felt in this way. wanting to see them closer, you lean your forehead against his, taking into consideration his confession as you give multiple nods.

"yeah," you started, "i like you, jay. i was thinking we were just friends, but that kiss last time changed that. and this time too. i know that i'm not going to be a perfect companion for you, but i wish you would be here with me on my healing journey."

you look downwards at his face to see his smile that has lifted up his lips, a smile with beautiful dimples on both cheeks. your hand moves to his nape, playing with the ends of his hair as you lean in closer, lips against his ear.

"i'm yours, jay. i'm yours to protect. yours to care. and i will do it back for you, if you let me," you mumbled, every breath you push out gracing his skin as you felt him nodding his head. that is when you felt his hand cupping your face and guiding your face back in front of his before pushing forward to let both of your pairs of lips kiss. your breath is taken away instantly as you feel the sparks between you explode your heart in a blooming fashion—unwrapping the rope that was holding you to that ex-boyfriend of yours and replacing it with a beautiful string to connect it with the boy in front of you.

the emotion that jay exuded whilst he was looking at you is lust with a hint of something emotional. something you replicate with your action as he guides you, licking your lips to make you open your mouth wider. he pushes his tongue to meet yours and to dance with each other. your other hand is grasping onto his shoulder blade so tight that you don't want to let him go right now—after everything clicks into your mind that you do have someone supporting you unconditionally. pulling himself back, you felt the coolness around your lips that was smeared with each other's saliva. jay's hand that is on your back guides you towards the open doorframe as he wraps himself around you from behind.

he guides you to sit on the bed as the light of the outside enters through the window covered by the sheer curtain. the view from the bedroom overlooks a huge street that looks so high up as you pivot back to face him. your palms are pushing yourself to sit upright as you bite your lip, staring up and down at how jay is pulling off his t-shirt, letting you see his tan golden skin even under minimal lighting. his arms are muscular and flex when they move, as your eyes are trailing from them to his torso and find the faint lines of his abdominal muscles

he's beautiful.

with a surge of confidence, you pull the hem of your tank top as you take it off upwards, feeling how free you are as jay looks at your exposed torso area. standing up, you step before him as you reach to the front of your neck, feeling the clasp of your choker as you pull it off like a belt. the skin breathes when it becomes loose before you pull one end with your movement. jay look as you show him the scar—the fear of exposing it is gone when it comes to him—as you drop the choker on the floor with his t-shirt and your top.

with another step closer, you felt how his chest grazed against your covered breasts. looking deep into his eyes, you speak, "i'm yours-"

he cuts you off with a kiss and you can feel the push of the skin-to-skin contact: goosebumps growing on your arms because of it. when you felt him moving his kisses down to your neck, your hands reach behind your back to unhook your bra as the cup falls from going lax—letting him pull them down as he kisses down the valley between your boobs. your hand reaches for his—the rightful person to touch you like this, as jay's touch replaces everything that was before it. his breath against your nipple makes it getting perky, a chuckle coming out from him as licks it before giving a suck whilst his hand reaches and plays with the other. your head leans back as your breathless moans come out, curling your fingers in his locks of hair before tilting down to watch and focus on his movement that is pleasuring you more and more.

jay takes the lead when he pushes you back onto the bed, making you move until your head finds his pillows when he climbs on top and kneels between your spread legs. his hand smooths down from below your boobs before meeting your navel and then the button and zipper of your jean pants. nodding your head, he pushes the button open and zips down the zipper before dragging them down your legs alongside your underwear. pushing them to the ground, he stands up by the front of the bed. you bit your bottom lip harder when you watch as he peels off all of his lower clothing pieces—letting you see just how big he is as he wraps his hand around his member—seeing how it grows bigger with just a few strokes. in return, you lick to of your fingertips and open your legs for him, feeling the coolness of your pre-cum as you slide your fingers against your slit while the other brushes against your boob—making you more aroused as you can't help to roll your eyes when you felt how sensitive your clitoris is.

he lets out a growl before lying down by your core, littering your thighs with kisses as you squirm underneath him. you put your forearms beside you as you push up, viewing how his eyes are looking at you as he finds your lower lips and licks around them. your hand moves back to your core, letting a finger dragged up from the top of your opening towards where your clit is—pushing it down as you let out a gasp, telling him where it is located as he replaces it with his thumb. jay presses down on it hard, making your body quiver as your jaw drops and gasps coming out of you.

when you felt his tongue dragging against your opening, you let out a moan that made you cover your mouth up—having never felt this as your ex-boyfriend only ever cared about himself when you both were having sex. your fingers found his hair once again, holding onto them as you look at how he is enjoying pleasuring you.

"jay…" you moaned out in a sigh, letting your head fall onto the pillow with your legs moving to lie on his upper back, making him grip onto your calf as he pushes you wider for him. then, you felt his finger prodding the hole and caressing the rim before pushing in, making your walls clamp on him as he groans at the tightness.

"please…" another moan left you as you look down to meet his gaze, making him pushing another finger in as he widens them and pushes against your walls.

"preparing you for me," he finally spoke, making you wetter than ever as you can feel him opening you up and even motioning as you hear the moisture sound coming from his fingers penetrating you. jay's tongue returns as he licks and give a slight suck on your clitoris, using every might of his to be patient—but also a revenge for making him worry and even mad at you.

"i'm ready- c- cum-" you voiced out as your legs tremble and a white flash goes over your vision, feeling another gush of arousal coating his fingers as he licks the lips up, letting him taste your cum and making him hum. then, his fingers are gone as you whine out with creased eyebrows. then, he climbs fully onto the bed and kneels between your legs. his fingers are shining from your release as he lets the same hand wrapped around his shaft—now hard and veiny—before stroking it to let the blood flow more.

as your hand finds his back, you reach up to give a single kiss on his lips. then, you wet your palm with your saliva and help stroking him, feeling the bluntness of his glans as you felt his pre-cum coming out—making you spread them down his hard cock. the width of your palm is only able to wrap around half the sixe of his penis length as he helps with stroking the other half. with his hand wrapped around the base as you let go to lie fully down on the bed, you hiss as he playfully drags the head across your opening. playing around by tapping it against your clit as your breath becomes more unstable. and when he claims you by pushing his cock in, your heartbeat's pace becomes quicker.

his hips move slowly as he looks down on you, watching as you nod your head and mouth "yes" on repeat. your eyes flicking back into your skull as he pushes in deeper and deeper—more than half of him now inside you. your walls continue to clamp down around him, making him catch his breath as he finally fully enters you. your hand teasingly lifts up to press down on the hardness beneath your belly button, making both of you moan as you can feel him within you and he can sense the pressure of your hand.

"fuck!" he retorted as you nodded at him.

"move, please. make me yours," you let out, putting your trust in him. you felt him pull out halfway before plunging back inside, again and again, until he felt your arousal coating him and making it smoother to slide in you. it continues until he sees the pain fading from your face and he starts adjusting the pace. the moans that are getting louder and louder make you cover it with your palm before jay removes it and muffles it with his lips. continuing as the pace gets faster and faster and how you wrapped your legs behind him.

sweats start to form around your and his bodies as your forehead sticks against his, feeling how his face scrunches as the pleasure kicks him too. your hands clawing on his back muscles as he swallows your moans that are getting more frequent. your walls forming to accommodate his shape as the moist sound continues on. then, he starts to change his pace—focusing on thrusting slowly and deep as his tip even slips out of your hole, making you grab his now wet hard cock and guide him as he thrust deep until it reaches your cervix, brushing your g-spot.

lust dissipates in his eyes as you cup jay's face with your hand. now, all the love that is hiding beneath it shows up as he leans into your touch. his hand that is resting beside you on the pillow moves to the back of your head and pushes it up, making your body fold as you see him sinking himself deep inside you. the pleasure spreading across your body as you see how he dissapears when you become full, eyes looking up at his face that as he also watches the way his cock enters you.

"i'm not letting you go easily," he whispers to himself, but with such a small distance, you can hear it as you continue to nod, eyes staring up to meet his as you reply with the way your eyes gaze at him. groans and moans decorate the space between the two of you as he reads your body language, taking your physique into his mind so he could remember every aspect of it.

with every push, you are getting closer and closer to reaching the peak that he is taking you to, making you relax on the bed as he brushes his body against you. chest to chest. hips to hips. you give him a lasting kiss as you mouthed "cum" against his lips before your jaw drops. white flashes show up again as he holds your back as you arch into him. a moan coming out loud as he slams his lips onto yours, his pace is getting faster as you enter overstimulation when you feel his groan against your lips and his few thrusts become so deep yet erratic. then, you felt warm liquid spurting against your walls.

you both breathe out heavily against each other. his hands massaging your hips as you felt his release, making you feel so full inside as it flows out to the opening of your hole. your face furrowed with many emotions swirling around as you hug him, feeling his kisses stained across your scarred neck as you can't help but to sob. jay doesn't need to ask you anything about it and he lets you have this release, making you anchored against him as you echoed what he whispered before towards him.

"i won't let go of you either."

as he opened the closed lids of his eyes, jay blinked as the sun glistened on him and a small smile formed on his face.

he looks outside the window beside him, your head resting against his shoulder with both of your hands linked as the trees and plain greenery greet him along the train track. a rare scenery to admire when he found himself growing up in a concrete jungle. the view slowly morphs from an overall green-colored view to specks of houses adding in. lone houses stand between fields of what looks to be rice and root vegetables before the tunnel consumes them in the darkness. the chugging of the train continues as it navigates the shadow-covered tracks, when he sees the light seeping into it from the side and expands as the view before him makes gasps coming out.

hills full of buildings on one side as the more the train goes on the track, the more he finds numerous towers showing—not as high as what seoul has to offered, but still enough to instill in him the urban area you have mentioned to him numerous times about this city. as the track continues to run into neighborhoods of people on both side, jay watches them living their lives as he hear loud giggles when he sees children waving towards the moving train—greeting the people into their hometown. then the sign tells him he has arrived at his destination.

busan.

the morning after you decided to stay with him, jay had called his dad about the busan office he knows his family's company have—as it is one of korea's main hubs for trading, especially with ships to and from japan and other countries reached by sea. his life, which was full of darkness and uncertainty, has obscured much of what he wants in his future. but now with you by his side, the misty path becomes clearer as he could sense his dad's surprised joy as his son wants to take his job seriously. but on one condition.

"can i work at the busan office?" he had asked, eyes on the living room as he heard the sound of the shower water running with you inside, cleaning yourself up.

his dad's agreement continues with a few more questions as he finally tells him about you and also his tiredness of living in a swift-paced seoul. and so, after two months from that night when you lived with him, he decided to move away with you. other than his seriousness in this relationship with you, he also wants to explore more of korea because seoul is not everything. jay was too young when he lived in seattle and that made him only have vivid memories when he remembered living there. and because of the unreclaimed memory, he now pushes himself outside of his comfort zone. to create new ones that could elevate him and let him explore more.

when he drags his suitcase and carries his travel bags as you do your own, you both walk towards the arrival area. then he sees you speedwalking in front of him, swerving around the sea of people as you rush forward and let go of your bags you are holding with your hands. arms opened wide to hug an older woman who is much shorter than he and you. jay approaches as you turn around, wiping your tears as the older woman stares up at him.

"this is my mother. and mom, this is my boyfriend," you say with your arms wrapping her in your embrace. jay could see your features in her face as a shocked expression shows up when she gazes at the boy before him.

"you didn't tell me he is so handsome!" she says before grasping for his hand, making him let out a small smile.

"my name is jongseong, ma'am," he replies as your mother steps forward, eyes glimmering with joy before looking back at her child, who is just looking at her sheepishly.

"oh yes, i do know your name. believe me when i was surprised to see a beautifully aggressive motorcycle arriving in front of my house with the name of park jongseong attached to it." her giggles come out as he pinpoints another similairty your mom has with you before glancing towards you who has widen eyes. "no worries about it, jay. (y/n) did mention it in the letter she sent to me a month ago. nice to finally meet you, son," her voice calls to him before she helps with your and his travel bags. the motherly instinct kicking in. "well, we don't want mr. jeon to wait for too long. he still has a job to do," she states as you three walk toward the departure.

your voice clashes with your mom, how she says that she is preparing your favourite food of hers back at your childhood home—which he couldn't wait to taste. jay had heard many stories about geoje from you, from how you and your friends are riding around the scooter all around the island and visiting the towns on one side and the other side of the island. he wants to do it too, riding around in nature with his bike and you behind him showing the road.

"and how about the house?" she asks.

"we still have to go meet the realtor in two days to get the key and documents. jjongie here has to also adapt to his job at his new office because he will be working there next monday. and after we moved into that house, i had to find my own job. but at least, i am closer to you, mom." you said so eloquently, using the nickname you made for him after he had told you of his birth name.

turning your head, you find him smiling at you as he puts his arm around the back of your shoulders whilst you follow your mom, who is guiding you towards the sedan car with your neighbour waiting to drive the two of you back to your childhood home. in his mind, he can already imagine the trees covering the house and the roads. replacing the neon lights with streaking sunlight as he and you ride along the roads with his bike.

finally, for the first time in a long time, he lets the sun shine on him once again. the light embraces your looming selves—knowing that both of you aren't so lonely anymore before when you have each other.

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aryadelvich · 5 months ago

Text

Love, Hate Thing - Luigi Mangione x Reader

It's always like that between you and him, constantly competing, you hating him for being so good, and Luigi hating you for never giving him rest. You couldn't stand each other.

Also thanks you for your comments, likes and reblog 🥹🫶 It’s warm my heart

I want to thank Spotify for accompanying me for this story ;)

Here’s an Updated Masterlist

Luigi leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his broad chest, his piercing green/brown eyes narrowing at you like you'd just declared war. His curls fell slightly into his face, and he pushed them back with a practiced flick of his hand.

You smirked, leaning forward on your elbows, your own gaze never wavering.

"And here I thought you were paying attention in class. Guess not. Maybe if you spent less time flexing your abs for the cheer squad and more time studying, you'd actually keep up."

His jaw tightened, but there was something else in his expression—something that made his usual cocky grin falter for half a second. He recovered quickly, though, flashing that signature smile that made half the campus swoon.

"Funny. I don't recall asking for your opinion on how I spend my time. But hey, if you're so obsessed with my abs, maybe I should start charging for the view."

You swear, if this guy wasn't built like a Greek god, you'd have punched him by now.

But you didn't punch him. Instead, you rolled your eyes, shoving your notes into your bag with more force than necessary.

"Don't flatter yourself, Mangione. Your ego's already big enough to fill this entire lecture hall."

He laughed, low and deep, and it grated on your nerves.

« Whatever you say, Y/N. But I'm gonna win the debate competition." He trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air between him and you.

It's been two years consecutive that he wins this competition, and you knew that it's was your chance to prove yourself and for the same occasion humiliate him.

You stood abruptly, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Good luck catching up," you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're gonna need it."

As your walked away, you could feel his eyes on you, burning into your back like twin lasers. What the hell is his problem? You thought, your heart pounding for reasons you refused to acknowledge.

You've been at each other's throats since freshman year, competing for top marks in every class, trading barbs whenever you crossed paths. It was exhausting, infuriating... and somehow, weirdly exhilarating.

Two Weeks Later – Debate Competition

The auditorium buzzed with anticipation as the final round of the debate competition began. The topic? "Is capitalism inherently exploitative?"

You stood at your podium, pulse steady, determination burning in your chest. Across from you, Luigi leaned against his own, exuding the same infuriating confidence he always did. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms, and he had that smug little smirk like he'd already won.

Not this time.

The moderator signaled for the debate to begin. Luigi started, his voice smooth and authoritative.

"Capitalism has lifted millions out of poverty, fostering innovation, competition, and economic growth. The free market incentivizes efficiency, rewarding those who work hard and contribute to society."

You let him talk, feigning disinterest as you twirled your pen between your fingers. When it was your turn, you took a deep breath and smiled.

"That's a nice fairy tale, Mangione. But let's talk reality. The wealth gap is wider than ever, workers are exploited for profit, and entire industries thrive on underpaying laborers while CEOs collect bonuses the size of small countries. If capitalism really rewarded hard work, explain why nurses barely make a livable wage while hedge fund managers get rich moving numbers around on a screen."

Luigi narrowed his eyes. "That's an oversimplification. The market adjusts itself. When a system is inefficient, it evolves—industries that fail to provide value either adapt or collapse. Competition forces innovation. If wages are too low, businesses will struggle to retain talent, and the market will naturally push salaries higher. Government intervention only distorts this balance, creating inefficiencies that harm long-term economic growth. The reality is, capitalism isn't perfect, but no other system has produced the same level of progress and opportunity."

"So you're saying child labor in sweatshops is just an inefficiency that'll 'fix itself'?" you responded smoothly.

A ripple of murmurs ran through the audience. Luigi hesitated—just for a second. His sisters, sitting with his parents in the front row, exchanged glances. You caught the small, proud smile on your own mother's face.

Game on.

You pressed forward, dismantling his every counterpoint with cold, hard facts. Every time he tried to regain control of the debate, you had an answer waiting. And for the first time since you'd started competing against him, he had nothing left to say.

When the final vote came in, the judges's decision was tight. But You won.

Luigi stared at the results, lips parted slightly, as if trying to process what had just happened.

"You okay there, Mangione?" you teased, stepping closer. "You look a little... shocked."

He blinked, then let out a slow exhale, running a hand through his curls.

"Huh," he muttered, shaking his head. "Didn't think I'd live to see the day."

You grinned, savoring the moment. "Better get used to it."

"You know," Luigi's voice was calmer now, lacking its usual teasing edge, "I didn't lose because you were better than me."

You turned, arching a brow. "Oh? So what, you tripped over your own ego and face-planted into defeat?"

He let out a short chuckle, shaking his head before meeting your gaze. But this time, there was no smug grin, no hint of competition—just honesty.

"I lost because I didn't even believe what I was saying."

You blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

Luigi sighed, leaning against one of the tables. "I've defended ideas in debates before. Won every time. But today? I couldn't bring myself to mean it."

He ran a hand through his curls, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"I know how messed up the system is. I know that no matter how much you try to justify it, it does exploit people. And the second I started talking, I realized I didn't have the same fire I usually do."

You crossed your arms, studying him. This was... unexpected.

"So, what? You're telling me you lost on purpose? »

"Of course not," he scoffed, shooting you a look. "I gave everything I had. But when you're up against someone who genuinely believes what they're saying? Someone who can argue with conviction? You don't stand a chance."

A slow smirk tugged at your lips. "Sounds like an excuse to me, Mangione."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up.”

You took a step closer, tilting your head. "You know, the whole point of oratory is to convince people, even when you don't believe in what you're saying."

Luigi's gaze flickered with interest. "So you're saying you could argue for capitalism and win?"

You shrugged. "Maybe."

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "That's terrifying."

You grinned. "That's debate"

For a moment, there was silence. The usual sharp tension between you had shifted into something else—something quieter. He watched you with an unreadable expression, and for once, you didn't feel the need to break the moment with a snarky remark.

But then he smirked. "Enjoy your victory while it lasts, Y/N. Next time, I won't go easy on you."

You scoffed. "You didn't go easy on me. You just lost."

His smile faltered for half a second, then he laughed under his breath. "Right. Keep telling yourself that."

Before you could respond, your little sister, darted right past you, running up to him.

"Are you Luigi?" she asked, eyes wide.

Luigi crouched slightly to her level, flashing a grin. "Depends. Are you the little sister who's probably way smarter than your big one?"

Before your sister could answer, you grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back.

"Don't talk to him," you told her, voice mock-serious. "He's a racist."

The conversation halted. Luigi's jaw dropped slightly. His sisters, standing a few feet away, whipped their heads toward him. His mother gasped. Your own mother smacked your arm.

"Y/N!"

You snorted, unable to hold in your laughter. "Relax, he's not actually racist. He's just annoying."

Luigi sighed in relief. His father gave him a skeptical glance, and one of his sisters muttered, "For a second, I was about to disown you."

"You're not funny," Luigi grumbled at you, shaking his head.

"You laughed, though."

"Absolutely not." He said with a smile on his face.

"Mm-hm. Sure."

You turned to introduce your mother properly to his family, but out of the corner of your eye, you caught something—Luigi watching you. Not with his usual smirk. Not with irritation. Just watching.

— Summer Break —

The sun hung high over the camp, casting warm golden light over the rows of cabins and the dense forest surrounding them. You adjusted your staff T-shirt, feeling the heat seep into your skin as you made your way toward the main hall for the pre-opening staff meeting.

You had applied to work here months ago—decent pay, free lodging, and a summer spent beside the beach and the soft breeze of summer.

Or so you thought.

The moment you walked into the meeting room, your body froze.

Leaning casually against one of the tables, arms crossed over his chest, wearing the same staff T-shirt as you, was Luigi.

His curls were slightly damp, probably from the heat, and he looked up just in time to see you enter.

For a moment, the room went silent.

Then, in perfect sync:

"No way."

You both said it at the exact same time, staring at each other in disbelief.

Luigi let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "You're kidding me."

"I should be the one saying that," you shot back, still processing the sheer misery of the situation. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Volontarisme, obviously." He gestured at the staff badge hanging around his neck. "What, you think I came for the fresh air?"

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. The other counselors were already watching with amused expressions, whispering to each other.

One of the senior staff members, a woman named Maya, clapped her hands together. "Alright, I take it you two know each other?"

Luigi smirked. "Oh, we go way back."

You shot him a glare before turning back to Maya. "We're at the same university, don't know him."

"Right," Maya said, clearly entertained. "Well, you'll have plenty of time to work on your teamwork skills this summer."

Luigi grinned, and you immediately regretted every life choice that led you here.

— Three weeks later —

It had been three weeks since the summer camp started, and somehow, you and Luigi had mostly managed to stay out of each other's way.

Until today.

The staff had been assigned to deep-clean the common areas before the next wave of campers arrived. You were already in a bad mood from scrubbing floors when Maya, ever the troublemaker, sent you and Luigi to restock cleaning supplies in the storage room.

The small, cramped storage closet filled with bleach, detergent, and every cleaning product imaginable.

"Just grab what we need and get out," you muttered as you pulled open the door.

Luigi, of course, took his time. "Relax. It's not like the camp's gonna collapse if we take an extra minute."

You rolled your eyes and grabbed a mop from the shelf. "That attitude is why you lost the debate, by the way."

Luigi snorted. "Oh, we're bringing that up again? Please, you won because I was morally conflicted."

"You lost because I was better than you."

"And yet, here we are, stuck working the same job," he pointed out, raising a brow.

You were about to fire back a retort when the door shut behind you.

Then, the distinct click of the lock turning.

Silence.

You whipped around. Luigi reached for the handle, twisting it. Nothing. He tried again. Locked.

He let out a sharp exhale, then turned to you, scowling.

"You couldn't keep the damn door open with your big ass?"

Your eyes widened.

Then, without thinking, you grabbed the nearest spray bottle and chucked it straight at him.

"Are you serious right now?!" you snapped as he barely dodged it. "We're trapped in a closet full of BLEACH, and you're blaming me ?”

Luigi ran a hand through his curls, clearly trying to keep his temper in check. "I'm just saying, maybe if you didn't take up half the doorway—"

"Finish that sentence, Mangione. I dare you."

He shut his mouth.

You let out a slow breath, pressing your fingers against your temples. "Unbelievable. I'm going to die here. With you."

Luigi scoffed. "Oh please, if anyone's dying first, it's me. You'll probably suffocate me before the lack of oxygen does."

You turned to glare at him. "That can be arranged."

A dozen ideas flashed through his mind—one in particular involving you and a rather strategic seating arrangement—but he wisely kept that thought to himself.

"I didn't say it was your fault—"

"Oh, shut up, Mangione." You pressed your forehead against the door, willing it to magically open.

No luck.

From the other side, you heard faint laughter.

The air between you shifted slightly. The usual sharpness of your arguments was still there, but being stuck in a cramped space with him suddenly made it feel... different.

Closer.

Too close.

You cleared your throat, stepping away from the door. "Let's just find another way out before we die of chemical inhalation."

Luigi smirked, that irritating confidence returning. "Scared of being trapped with me, Y/N?"

You shot him a glare. "Terrified."

His chuckle was low and amused as he crossed his arms. "Don't worry. I'll protect you from the scary cleaning supplies."

You could hear the faint click of his tongue, the sound of him shifting slightly behind you. His body grazed yours, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

You reached for your phone, only to realize it wasn't in your pocket. Of course. You'd left it in your bag. "Do you have your phone?"

"No," he admitted, his tone clipped. "Left it in my locker."

Silence fell between you, heavy and suffocating. The room was cramped, the shelves stacked with supplies pressing in on all sides. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his presence impossible to ignore.

You pressed yourself harder against the shelf, hoping to put some space between you and Luigi, but it was useless. He was right behind you, his chest nearly brushing against your back.

"Can you not stand so close?" you snapped, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I would if I could," he said, his voice annoyingly calm. "But there's literally nowhere else to go."

The room was suffocatingly small, and the faint scent of his cologne wasn't helping.

"Well, stop breathing down my neck," you muttered, hoping the irritation in your tone would mask the way your heart was hammering in your chest.

He let out a quiet laugh, and you could feel the rumble of it in the air between you.

"I'm not breathing down your neck," he said, his voice dipping lower, "but you do seem tense. Nervous, even."

Your jaw tightened as his words sank in, your irritation bubbling to the surface. You turned your head just enough to glare at him over your shoulder, but immediately regretted it. He was too close. His face was inches from yours, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn't quite place.

"Back off," you hissed.

"Sure," he replied smoothly, "as soon as we figure out how to open that door."

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the lock, ignoring how your hands shook slightly as you fiddled with the knob. The silence stretched between you, heavy and thick, until you felt him lean in closer.

"Are you always this stubborn, or is it just when I'm around?" he murmured near your ear, his voice low and teasing.

Your breath hitched, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from reacting. Instead, you glared at the lock as if it were the source of all your problems.

"Are you always this insufferable, or is it just with me?" you shot back.

He chuckled again, soft and infuriating. "Maybe I just like seeing you flustered."

Your grip tightened on the handle as your heart raced. You weren't flustered. No. That's exactly what he wanted, and you weren't going to give him the satisfaction.

"Don't flatter yourself," you muttered, shoving the handle harder in a desperate attempt to break free.

But in the back of your mind, as you felt his warmth against your back and his calm, steady presence behind you, you weren't sure if you wanted him to move away after all.

And then it happened. You felt it.

A subtle shift against your lower back, a hardness you hadn't anticipated. Your breath caught in your throat, your body instinctively stiffening. No. This was not happening. Not with him.

But it was happening. You could feel him—every inch of him—pressed against you. His breath hitched, barely audible, but you heard it. A soft, involuntary sound that sent a jolt through you.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. The silence stretched on, thick with tension, and you were hyper-aware of every tiny movement. His hardness pressed more insistently against you, and you couldn't stop the way your body reacted.

Without thinking, you shifted slightly, just enough to feel him more fully against you. His breath caught again, and you heard him swallow hard.

"Y/n," he whispered, his voice strained.

You didn't respond. Instead, you did it again, this time more deliberately. You rubbed against him, feeling the way he tensed behind you, the way his breath came in shallow bursts.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his hands gripping the shelves on either side of you. You could feel him struggling to stay still, to resist the pull between you. But it was too late. You'd already crossed the line.

You pushed back against him again, your heart pounding in your chest. This was wrong. He was your rival. Your enemy. And yet, the way he was reacting to you—the way his body responded to every move you made—was impossible to ignore.

He groaned softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. His hips moved against you, almost unconsciously, and you could feel the heat building between you.

"You're not... stopping," he breathed, his voice barely audible.

"You want me to stop?" you shot back, your tone defiant.

“No,” he said between two moans.

He let out a low, guttural sound, his body pressing harder against yours. You could feel the tension in him, the way he was trying—and failing—to hold back.

And then it happened. He came.

You felt it—the way his body trembled against yours, the way his breath hitched, the way he let out a soft, almost pained moan. His hands gripped the shelves tighter, his body shuddering as he spilled into his pants.

The room fell silent again, the only sound the ragged breaths escaping both of you. You stood there, your back still pressed against him, your mind racing.

"Fuck," he muttered again, his voice rough and filled with frustration.

You didn't respond. You couldn't. Your body was still humming with the tension, the heat, the way he'd reacted to you.

And then, finally, he spoke again. "This doesn't change anything," he said, his voice low and firm.

You turned your head slightly, just enough to see his profile in the dim light. His jaw was clenched, his expression hard. "No," you agreed, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. "It doesn't."

But as you stood there, still pressed against him, you couldn't help but wonder—was that really true?

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest as you felt the heat of his body against yours. His breath was warm on your neck, and the tension between you was almost unbearable. But something in you resisted—this wasn't the time, and he wasn't the one who got to decide when things escalated.

Not like this. Not with him.

You took a deep breath, then stepped back, breaking the contact between you. The sudden distance felt cold, like you'd ripped off a blanket in the middle of winter. Luigi blinked, his expressive face flickering with surprise before it settled back into that infuriating smirk.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low but laced with curiosity.

"I'm not doing anything," you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're the one who got us stuck in here. So, figure out how to get the door open."

He raised an eyebrow, that smirk widening. "Oh, so now it's my fault? I seem to recall you were the one who followed me into the lab in the first place."

Your cheeks flushed, but you refused to let him see how much his words affected you. "I didn't follow you. I had work to do. You just happened to be here."

"Sure," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "And I just happened to get locked in here with you. Totally a coincidence."

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him to examine the door more closely. "Just fix it, Luigi. I don't have time for your games."

He stepped closer, his presence looming behind you. You could feel the warmth of his body again, and it took everything in you not to lean back into it. "What if I don't want to?" he murmured, his voice so soft it sent a shiver down your spine. "What if I think this is... convenient?"

You whirled around, glaring at him. "Convenient? Are you serious right now? We're locked in a lab, Luigi. This isn't some romantic comedy. This is a safety hazard."

He chuckled, the sound low and smooth, like it was meant only for you. "Romantic comedy, huh? So, you do think about us like that."

"I think you're delusional," you snapped, though your voice wavered slightly. "Now, either you figure out how to open this door, or I'll start yelling for help."

Your heart was racing now, and you could feel your resolve starting to crumble. Why does he have to be like this? You clenched your fists, trying to steady yourself. "Luigi, I swear, if you don't back off—"

"If I don't back off, what?" he interrupted, his voice dropping to a whisper. "What are you going to do about it?"

You spun around, ready to snap at him again, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was something there—something raw and unfiltered. It wasn't just arrogance or amusement. It was... truth. And it terrified you.

"Why are you doing this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you. "Because I can't help myself," he admitted, his voice rough. "Because every time I'm near you, I can't think straight. And I hate it."

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. "You hate it?"

"Yes," he said, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "But I also can't stop."

His thumb traced a slow, deliberate path along your jawline, and you felt your resistance melting away. This is a bad idea, your brain whispered, but your body didn't seem to care.

"Luigi..." you started, but he cut you off, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that took your breath away.

For a moment, you froze, unsure of what to do. But then your body took over, your hands tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with equal intensity. It was messy, it was desperate, and it was everything you'd been trying to avoid.

He pressed you against the door, his body pinning you in place as his hands roamed over your waist, your hips, your thighs. You gasped into his mouth, your mind spinning as the world around you faded away.

"You drive me crazy," he murmured against your lips, his voice heavy with need. "You know that, right?"

You didn't respond. You couldn't. All you could do was hold on as he deepened the kiss, his fingers digging into your skin like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, he pulled away, leaving you breathless and wanting.

"I... I've never done that before," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Luigi..." you whispered, your voice trembling.

He stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "We shouldn't do this," he said, though his eyes said something entirely different.

"Then why did you start it?" you asked, your voice barely audible.

He hesitated, then stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "Because I'm an idiot," he admitted, his tone laced with frustration. "And because I can't stay away from you, no matter how hard I try."

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. What do I do now?

Before you could answer, he turned away, pacing the small room like a caged animal. "This is a terrible idea," he muttered, mostly to himself. "You're my competition. My rival. This is only going to complicate things."

"You're the one who kissed me," you pointed out, your voice steadier now.

He stopped pacing and looked at you, his expression a mix of desire and resignation. "Yeah, I did. And I'd do it again if you let me."

Luigi's words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. "I'd do it again if you let me." His eyes burned into yours, daring you to make the next move. The lab felt impossibly small now, the air thick with tension and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. Your heart raced, torn between the logical part of your brain screaming that this was a terrible idea and the part that wanted to see just how far he'd go.

You stepped closer, your breath hitching as his gaze followed you. His lips parted slightly, as if he was about to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he just watched you, his expressive face betraying a mix of anticipation and doubt. You reached out, your fingers brushing against the hem of his hoodie, and felt him tense under your touch.

"You're not going to stop me, are you?" you murmured, your voice low but steady.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Do I look like I want to stop you?"

That was all the confirmation you needed. Your hands moved to the waistband of his short, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper. He didn't help you, but he didn't stop you either, his hands hovering at his sides, he wasn't sure what to do with them —much like you. It was the first time you had ever been this close to a man. When you finally got the zipper down, you glanced up at him, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Don't overthink it," he said, his voice rough but soft.

You didn't. You pushed his jeans down just enough to free him, your fingers wrapping around his length. He let out a sharp exhale, his head tipping back slightly as you began to stroke him, — tasting his previous cum — slow and deliberate. His hands finally found their place, one tangling in your hair while the other gripped the edge of the lab table behind him.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his voice strained. "You're not playing fair."

You smirked, your lips brushing against the tip of him before you took him into your mouth. His grip on your hair tightened, his hips twitching forward instinctively, but he stopped himself, letting you set the pace. You could taste the salt of him, feel the way he hardened further as you worked him with your tongue and lips. His breaths came in shallow gasps, and when you glanced up at him, you saw his eyes dark with desire, his jaw clenched as he fought to stay in control.

"You're—" he started, but his words cut off into a groan when you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper. His hand in your hair tightened again, not painfully, but enough to make your scalp tingle. "Oh, you're good at this."

You pulled back slightly, swirling your tongue around the tip before looking up at him. "You sound surprised."

He let out a breathless laugh, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "I shouldn't be. You're good at everything."

The compliment sent a thrill through you, and you returned your attention to him, sucking harder this time. His hips jerked forward, and he cursed under his breath, his fingers flexing in your hair. "Careful," he warned, though there was no real threat in his tone. "If you keep doing that, I'm not going to last."

You hummed in response, the vibration making him groan again. His free hand found its way to your shoulder, gripping it tightly as if he needed something to ground him. You could feel him trembling under your touch, his control unraveling with every stroke of your tongue, every flick of your lips. He was close—you could tell by the way his breathing hitched, the way his thighs tensed under your hands.

"Wait," he said suddenly, his voice strained. "Wait, I—"

You didn't stop. Instead, you took him deeper, your throat relaxing as you swallowed him down. His grip on your hair tightened almost painfully, but you didn't mind. You wanted him to lose control, to let go completely. And he did. With a low, guttural groan, he came, his body stiffening as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed, your lips still wrapped around him as he rode out the aftershocks, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

When you finally pulled away, he slumped back against the lab table, his chest heaving. His hand fell from your hair, and he ran it over his face, letting out a shaky laugh. "Fuck," he said again, his voice hoarse. "That was—fuck."

You stood up, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He looked at you, his eyes still dark but softer now, almost tender. "You're insane," he muttered, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

"So I've been told," you replied, your voice teasing.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. "Come here," he said, his tone softer now. You stepped closer, and he kissed you—tasting himself—slow and deep, his hands tangling in your hair again. It was different from the first kiss—less frantic, more deliberate, as if he was trying to convey something he couldn't put into words.

You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, his breathing ragged, and it only made you want him more.

When you finally broke apart again, you were both panting, your foreheads pressed together.

"So... what now?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

You hesitated, your mind racing. What was next? You were still rivals, still the same people we'd been five minutes ago. And yet, something between you had shifted, something that couldn't be undone.

Before you could answer, the sound of footsteps outside the door made you both freeze.

"Hello? Is anyone in there?" a voice called from the other side.

Luigi and you quickly pulled apart, your faces flushed, as the door swung open. One of the other counselors stood there, looking confused.

"Oh, there you are! We've been looking for you two," they said, oblivious to what had just happened.

"Uh, yeah. We got... locked in," Luigi said, his voice uneven.

"Right. Well, come on, we need you out here for the next activity," they said, turning and walking away.

Luigi glanced at you, his expression unreadable. "So... next time we're alone—"

"Next time," you interrupted, your voice firm. "We finish what we started."

— Sunset —

The air was thick with the scent of pine and campfire as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The camp was alive with laughter and chatter, but your mind was elsewhere. Luigi. The memory of his lips on yours, his hands trembling against your waist, lingered like a phantom touch. You couldn't shake it. The rivalry had always been intense, but now it felt like something else entirely.

You found yourself wandering in the beach, where you can heard the sound of the waves and feel the breeze against your skin. The faint sound of rustling leaves caught your attention, and you turned to see Luigi standing a few feet away. He looked nervous, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his shorts. "Hey," he said softly, his voice almost lost in the rustling of the waves.

"Hey," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. There was something about the way he looked at you, a mix of vulnerability and determination, that made it hard to breathe. "What are you doing out here?"

He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I wanted to talk to you. About... earlier."

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to steady yourself. "What about it?"

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. "I've never done that before. Kissed someone, I mean."

Your breath hitched. You knew he was a virgin, but hearing him say it out loud sent a jolt of electricity through you. "Neither have I," You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stared at you, his eyes wide with surprise. "Really?"

You nodded, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Really."

There was a moment of silence, the tension between you palpable. Then, without warning, he closed the distance between you, his hands reaching out to grasp yours. His touch was warm, his fingers trembling slightly as they interlaced with yours. "I don't want to stop," he said, his voice low and rough. "I want to know what it's like. With you."

Your heart was racing now, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You wanted it too, wanted to feel him, all of him, but the rivalry that had always defined your relationship was still there, lurking beneath the surface. "What about this?" You asked, gesturing between him and you. "This... thing between us. Is it just about competition?"

He shook his head, his grip on your hands tightening. "No. It's not. It's never been just about that. Not really."

You searched his eyes, looking for any hint of deception, but all you saw was honesty, raw and unfiltered. "Then what is it?"

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "It's... I don't know. Something more. Something I can't explain."

You didn't need an explanation. You could feel it, the pull between you and him, the way your bodies seemed to gravitate toward each other without conscious thought. You stepped closer, your chests almost touching, and tilted you head up to look at him. "Show me," you whispered.

His breath hitched, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away. But then his hands were on your face, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that took your breath away. The kiss was different from the one in the supply room, deeper, more intense. It was like he was pouring everything he had into it, every ounce of his longing, his desire, his need.

You responded in kind, your hands sliding up his chest to grip the sides of his face. Your tongues clashed, the taste of him intoxicating. He groaned, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, and his hands moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

Breaking the kiss, he looked down at you, his eyes dark with desire. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice strained.

You nodded, your own voice shaky. "Yes."

He hesitated for only a moment before scooping you up into his arms and carrying you deeper into the tent. You could feel the soft sand of the ground beneath you, and he gently set you down, his body hovering over yours.

"I've never done this before," he admitted, his voice trembling. "I don't know what I'm doing."

You reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek. "Neither do I. But we'll figure it out together."

He nodded, his eyes closing as he leaned into your touch. Then slowly, almost reverently, his hands began to explore your body, tracing the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist. Every touch sent a spark of electricity through you, your breath hitching as he moved lower.

His fingers fumbled with the button on your shorts, and you helped him, guiding his hands until the fabric slid down your legs. His eyes widened as he took you in, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

His hands were tentative at first, exploring the curves of your body with a reverence that made your breath catch. And then he was kissing you again—starting at your collarbone, trailing down to your stomach, lower and lower until you felt his breath between your legs.

You tensed, your heart pounding in your chest. “Luigi,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He looked up at you, his eyes blazing. “Trust me,” he said, his voice steady.

And you did. You trusted him enough to let go, to surrender to the waves of pleasure that crashed over you as he began to explore you with his mouth. His touch was hesitant at first, unsure, but quickly grew more confident as he learned what made you gasp, what made you arch your back.

“Where did you learn this?” You managed to say, your voice breathless. “In a book, uh?”

He paused, looking up at you with a smirk. “Maybe,” he said, his tone teasing. “Or maybe I just know what you like.”

You laughed—a soft, breathless sound that was quickly swallowed by the sensations coursing through you. His tongue was relentless, his hands gripping your hips as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

You reached for him, your hands trembling as you undid his belt and slid his pants down. He was hesitant at first, his movements unsure, but as your bodies pressed together, skin against skin, a sense of urgency overtook the two of you.

He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes locked on yours.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice barely audible.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yes. Please, Luigi."

With a shaky breath, he entered you, the sensation both strange and exhilarating. There was a moment of discomfort, a sharp sting that made you gasp, but he paused, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice strained.

You nodded, your hands gripping his shoulders. "Yes. Please keep going."

He did as you asked, moving slowly at first, the friction between you building with each thrust. The awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a pleasure that was unlike anything you has ever felt. His movements became more confident, his body pressing against yours with a rhythm that had you gasping for air.

"Luigi," you moaned, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. His hands gripped your hips, his touch firm but gentle as he moved inside of you. The tension, the rivalry that had always driven you, seemed to melt away, leaving only raw, unfiltered passion.

He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was as desperate as it was tender. Your tongues tangled, the taste of him mingling with the sensation of his body moving against yours. The world outside ceased to exist, the night fading into a blur of sensations and emotions.

You could feel the pressure building inside you, a coil of heat that threatened to unravel at any moment. His movements became more erratic, his breathing ragged as he whispered your name against your lips. "I'm close," he gasped, his voice filled with need.

"Me too," you replied, your hands clutching at his back. The tension inside you snapped, a wave of pleasure washing over you as you cried out his name. He followed soon after, his body tensing as he found his release, his voice a low, guttural moan against your neck.

For a moment, you lay there, your bodies tangled together, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. Then slowly, he pulled away, his eyes meeting yours.

"So... that just happened," he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

The reality of what you had just done began to sink in, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and exhilaration. “I’ve never tough it will be with you." you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

— End of summer back to university —

Back at university, it was as if nothing had changed. You still argued in class, still traded barbs at parties, still acted like you couldn't stand each other. But behind closed doors, in the privacy of Luigi's dorm room, it was a different story.

His room was small and cluttered, with textbooks piled on the desk and posters of his favorite bands peeling off the walls. But to you, it was your sanctuary. The place where you could let go of the act and just be with him. You'd sneak in late at night, careful not to be seen, and he'd be waiting for you, his lips claiming yours the moment the door clicked shut.

Tonight was no different. You were lying on his bed, his arms wrapped around you as you traced circle patterns on his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath your fingertips, and the room was filled with the soft sound of his breathing.

"We can't keep doing this," he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

You froze, your hand stilling on his chest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "I don't want to hide this anymore. I don't want to pretend like I don't love you when we're around other people.”

Love. The word sent a shiver down your spine. You'd both danced around it, never saying it out loud, but hearing it now made your stomach twist with both fear and longing.

"I don't care what they think," he said fiercely, his eyes locking onto yours. "I love you. I want the whole world to know it."

You shook your head, sitting up to face him. A smile tugged at your lips as your heart pounded in your chest. His words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.

"You mean that?" you asked softly, searching his face for any hesitation.

He didn't waver. "Of course I do."

Relief and warmth flooded through you, and without another thought, you cupped his face in your hands, leaning in until your foreheads touched.

"Then let's tell them," you whispered. "I love you too."

A large smile appeared in his face.

"No, I love you." He bids.

"Don't start a competition again..."

"Because you'll lose." He adds his smile still on his face.

Thanks you for reading all this ! If you have a request just ask I will do my best ! Which you all the best ! Love.

#luigi mangione #free luigi #luigi #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione smut #luigi mangione x yn #luigi mangione college #luigi my beloved #enemies to lovers #summer love

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chosove · 5 months ago

Text

18+ mdni | tutoring toru :)

tw. mentions of A&P I ☹️ anatomy and physiology … my enemy …

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

“lets go over that one more time, ‘kay ‘toru? you have to use the scientific wording to actually be correct. its not ‘spongy stuff’, its trabeculae.”

you didnt realize how exasperated your voice sounded until you saw the man before you deflate, a pout forming on his pretty pink lips. “i dont get what i said wrong this time” satoru exclaimed, head falling to the table in frustration. “you asked the difference between compact and spongy bone, right? spongy bone is like…spongy looking. so i didn’t say tabec… whatever- why does it matter?”

it took a lot of effort to suppress the chuckle fighting its way past your lips- seeing the prideful gojo satoru crumble over basic anatomy was too ironic to not laugh at. “how ‘bout we take a break?” you sighed, patting his head, feeling warmth bloom in your chest when his teary eyes peeked up at you. letting your hand fall slightly, you cupped his cheek, wiping at the wetness forming on his lower lashes. did he always look this good? how were his eyes suddenly so intense, and how on earth do his lips look so soft? so red? so kissable?

without thinking, your thumb traced satoru’s lower lip, pulling it from its place between his teeth and watching in delight as he let you press down on it. it wasn’t until he let out a soft pant, eyelids fluttering shut that you finally pulled your hand back, the guilty look painting your face making it seem like you’d just been caught doing something much, much worse.

god, how satoru wishes that were the case.

jumping back, you brushed your hands off on your shirt before turning to him once again, his wide eyes watching your every move. “h-how about we finish there today, hm? you seem tired so-“

before you could finish, his hand shot up to grab your wrist. “no!” satoru nearly shouted, clearing his throat when he saw you jump. “s-sorry, i mean um…” his voice trailed off as he stared into your eyes, thinking of an excuse for you to stay and do something other than school.

satoru had been crushing on you ever since the first day of biology, the way you smiled when he asked what your professor meant by homeostasis melting his heart- he was closer than ever today and he couldnt lose that momentum.

“maybe we could focus on something else?…” you watched his adams apple bob before he continued, nerves evident in the way his voice began to tremble. “m-might help me memorize stuff better if i have a real figure?”

if it werent for the fact he was your favourite client (who also paid the most), you would’ve said no. you probably shouldve said no, but god he really did look like he was about to pass out just from voicing the request- what would he look like when you showed him all the spots he was most sensitive? did he already know them?

Before you could think too deeply on it, you responded with a nod. “not really comfy down here though…how about we go up to your room?”

A deep blush painted his cheeks as he grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs to his room, sitting shyly on his bed with his hands in his lap after opening the door. You giggled at the sudden change in his mood- he wasnt all that confident when he first asked you up here, but did he even wanna go through with it?

Standing before him, you dragged a finger across his jaw, slightly lifting his head up to look at you. “We can always go back to studying ‘toru, I dont mind.”

He didnt know if it was the way the nickname rolled off your lips or the implication that something that wasnt school was actually gonna happen, but he shook his head rapidly and wrapped his arms around your thighs regardless- relishing in the giggle you let out as you placed your hands on his undercut for stability. “N-no please, i mean…we haven’t done a lot of studying on the actual anatomy part right?”

It should be a crime how irresistible gojo satoru can be even when using biology to flirt. “Guess you’re right ‘toru, how about we start with…” your voice trailed off as you moved to sit atop his lap, the sight of his eyelids fluttering shut when your crotch rested just above his making your stomach flip with excitement. “D’you remember what I said these were called?” your sweet voice questioned, dragging his hands to rest on your breasts.

A deep groan fell from Satoru’s lips, his head falling forward to rest between his hands as they groped your chest. “Y-yeah fuck they’re mammary glands right? ‘S where the milk c-comes from”

You giggled at his neediness, his hips jumping up while talking about milk only making you cockier. Ripping your shirt off, you tilted his head up once more to look into his blown out pupils. “Feeling thirsty ’toru?”.

His blown out pupils watched with excitement as your hands reached behind you to unclip your bra, a sigh of release falling from your lips as the tension of the bands washed away. Without another word, satoru pressed a kiss to your left nipple, watching the way the sensation caused it to become erect. You gasped before pushing his head closer to your chest, craving his mouth to be on you anywhere and everywhere.

“ish th-this okay?” His muffled voice spoke as he suckled on your tits, desperately flicking his tongue against the nipple before gently biting it, slowly rocking his hips up into you each time he did so. Your fierce nods in response only goaded him on, his hand going to your other breast so it wasnt neglected, fingers busying themselves by pinching your nipple.

“Shit toru…ngh doin’ so good, ‘m so wet for you”

Before you could get any more words out, you heard a whine of what sounded like your name against your chest followed with a deep, rumbling groan, Satoru’s hips jumping up in reflex as he came in his pants. “F-fuck ‘m sorry hah jus’ wanted ya for so long n’ youre so pretty f-fuck ‘s still comin-“

What felt like eternity of gojo satoru licking and kissing your breasts as he creamed himself was finally over after nearly 3 minutes, his hands going from harshly grasping your tits to simply resting them atop them. You waited until he rid out his orgasm to make any movements, hands beginning to push him away before you were grabbed by his muscled arms.

“Ya didnt finish…i have to do the reproductive system next ya know…gonna need to know more than just youre mommy milkers”

#chosove #gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo drabbles #gojo x female reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #jjk fanfic

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calliesmemes · 1 year ago

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EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“ It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”

“ Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”

“ I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”

“ Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”

“ Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”

“ Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”

“ Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”

“ My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”

“ Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”

“ It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”

“ If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”

“ Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”

“ I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”

“ I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”

“ I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”

“ Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”

“ Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”

“ I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”

“ Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”

“ i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”

“ These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”

“ I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”

“ I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”

“ DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”

“ I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”

“ Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”

“ My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”

“ I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”

“ Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”

“ I was born for shock value. ”

“ Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”

“ Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”

“ Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”

“ Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”

“ My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”

“ This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”

“�� I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”

“ Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”

“ My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”

“ I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”

“ I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”

“ Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”

“ Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”

“ Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”

“ girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”

“ BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”

“ I just gave your address to some spiders! ”

“ I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”

“ I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”

“ Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”

“ I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”

“ Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”

“ I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”

“ I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”

“ Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”

“ Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”

“ Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”

“ If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”

“ Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”

“ Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”

“ Swag is earned, not learned. ”

“ Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”

“ I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”

“ Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”

“ If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”

“ Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”

“ I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”

“ It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”

“ Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”

“ At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”

“ Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”

“ Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”

“ One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”

“ On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”

“ My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”

“ I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”

“ Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”

“ I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”

“ Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”

“ I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”

“ I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”

“ Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”

“ Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”

“ I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”

“ I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”

“ Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”

“ i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme #rpc help

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majestyeverlasting · 2 years ago

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A Little Less Restless

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (friends to lovers)

Summary: As Bucky finds himself within the still familiarity of Brooklyn, he comes to realize that he deserves nice things. And, most of all, that he deserves you.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I haven't posted any new writing in a bit, and it feels good to be resolving that (yay me). Please enjoy this piece I wrote today. Lot's of fluff and very obvious feelings. It's been a while since I wrote something for him. <3

Three knocks sound on Bucky’s front door as his reflection stares back at him in the bathroom. He's leaning close to the mirror in careful criticism. Enough to see the green flecks in his irises. The freckles on his cheeks from being in the sun. The pricks of hair making up his scruff. Then he eases back and squares his shoulders. They fall after he releases a breath.

He prays he doesn’t look as restless as he feels.

The smile you give him when he answers the door carries a warmth he isn’t sure he deserves. But he takes it because that’s all he can do. Enjoy it like a man who’s been cold his whole life. By some miracle, he feels himself smiling back in that small, weighted way of his. It was a trade off of sorts, and now you’re even. No outstanding debts.

He motions you inside with a soft please, and you study him once you’re in the foyer. In the few seconds that you’re silently observing, Bucky wishes he knew exactly why. As tender as your gaze is, heat was already rising to his cheeks. But like everything else when it comes to you, he takes it. Looks right back at you shyly, pushes his hands into his pockets, and waits.

“Your hair’s shorter,” you finally say, smile growing wider. “Did you cut it?”

“Cut it,” he repeats like a question, hands moving to run through it. The previous night creeps back to the forefront of his mind.

When he’d gone for a walk to get some air and inadvertently found himself being drawn in by the red, white, and blue barber’s pole spiraling on the next block. It’d been ages since he’d gone to a professional, but walking inside to the faint scent of tobacco and aftershave made him feel as though he’d never stopped.

“Mhm,” you hum, certain.

The stumped look on his face vanishes like it was never supposed to be there. “I went and got it trimmed at a place called Ricky’s last night.”

“And you forgot that quickly?” Next thing he knows, you’re wrapping him in an embrace, peeking up at him after a few seconds, “I’m teasing.”

He squeezes you back tighter.

It’s you who eventually pulls away, and he finds himself trailing you as you venture deeper into his apartment, eyes roving thoughtfully. A coffee table now complements the couch in the living room. The walls are no longer bare. At long last, the space was beginning to look more like a home.

For the longest time, Bucky had only seen it as a place to rest his head after countless assignments that took him miles away. It didn’t need to be anything special, or so he thought. One of the first things you told him upon coming into his life was that he needed a constant. A place to come back to that he could make his own. That was his. He’d spent so much of his life serving other people and belonging to other people that he was finally learning what it meant to be his own.

It was exhausting not being halfway across the world with a task to busy his mind. Brooklyn was still in comparison. A place where he could recognize street names, faces, point out buildings that used to be something else when he was a kid. And now there was you, who made being stateside worthwhile in a way he didn’t think was possible. He realized then, how much he’d deprived himself of meaningful connections outside of work.

“It looks great in here, Buck. What’d I tell you?” Your earnesty is genuine. Makes him, as old and borderline cynical as he is, feel special. “You’re gonna have to start inviting me over more.” You shoot him a wink, and he freezes because of the weight of the implication. If you notice, you don’t say anything.

A few months ago you’d been strangers crossing paths. Then acquaintances. Now friends who cared about each other a whole awful lot. Only, it was more obvious on your end. He kept most of his sentiments guarded, not yet ready for them to bleed out like an open wound. It didn’t help that you were always wielding a knife, coming closer and closer to cut through the wall he built around himself.

“You can come over whenever you want,” he says. “I’m always here.”

“When you’re not on assignment,” you add. “And I know. I just don’t want to scare you away.”

Bucky frowns at the suggestion, but his lips eventually turn up. “Good thing you’re not a scary person,” he says, counting on earning a laugh. Something.

And you do, right before shaking your head. “I’m serious.”

“You couldn’t scare me away,” he assures.

You nod slowly. “So how’ve you been?” There’s something else lingering on the tip of your tongue, so he waits it out. It ends up punching him right in the gut. “You look…I don’t know.”

It hadn’t been all too long since he’d come back from Morocco. Only a week. And it would be a while before he was sent out anywhere else. His mind was in the constant process of drifting to the type of thoughts all men sifted through when they have nothing but time. Those regarding purpose, belonging, and meaning. Not to a deep, crippling degree, but enough to make him want to spring into some sort of action. Find something to indulge in that wasn’t saving the world.

Bucky swallows and shifts his weight. “Restless,” he offers. “Didn’t think you’d notice.”

“I’ll always notice.” Silence stretches between the two of you and a siren wails in the distance. “Maybe we can go out tonight, just you and me. Is that something you’d wanna do?” The question sounds shy.

What you didn’t know quite yet is that he’d probably do just about anything if it was with you.

***

At the end of the night, it’s Bucky who pulls out his card and pays for dinner. Not even giving you the chance to think about digging into your purse. As an old tune continues playing overhead, your grateful eyes sparkle at him from across the table.

Neither of you had dined here before. It’s one of the places Bucky said used to go by a different name and was run by a different family, Italians. You liked listening to him talk about what once was because it made you realize just how much he knew. Just how thoughtful and reverent he was when it came to the good memories he had.

Being listened to so intently was new for him. But he enjoyed it. Especially when you’d ask questions or bring up a point he made further back in the conversation. By the time the waiter comes back around with his card and his copy of the receipt, the two of you are basking in the memory of the evening and thinking about what the rest of the night may hold.

“This was really nice,” he says, folding his napkin and setting it aside on the table. Then his expression becomes consumed by a certain solemness. “I don’t know how well it comes across, but I need you to know that I appreciate you. A lot.”

Your heart nearly bursts. “I know, Bucky,” you promise. He still looks unconvinced, so you extend your hand face up on the table for him to take. “I know.”

The cab ride back to his place is quiet. You hold onto his hand the whole way, relishing the feeling of his thumb tracing back and forth over your skin. It’s a gesture that says I’m here with, I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me. Brooklyn passes by in rushes of darkness peppered with light. Pedestrians walk alongside the streets, some holding hands just like the two of you. It isn’t long before the driver pulls up alongside the curb of the complex.

It isn’t until you’re in the elevator that you’re sure that you want to stay.

The two of you get off at the fifth floor.

“Is it okay if I spend the night? If not, I completely understand. I know it’s such short notice,” you ramble as he’s turning his key into the door. He hopes you don’t notice the way he falters. But part of him knows you do. You don’t miss anything. Luckily for him, you’re just as fazed by your own question, holding your breath.

It’s not until you’re inside that he graces you with an answer, “‘Course you can.”

Your shoulders drop in relief. What you’re not expecting is the laugh he tries to bite back. Maybe it was mean of him, but he liked knowing he could make you sweat. Sometimes it seemed like it was only ever you who made him openly anxious.

“You’re terrible,” you accuse, failing at restraining a smile. “Absolutely horrible.” You’d forgotten to throw away an empty water bottle before you left, and it’s the closest thing you’re able to throw his way in retaliation. He catches it and tosses it in the trash himself.

Mischief written all along his smile when he starts towards you.

Partly scared and partly excited, you think to flee at the last second. After a few measly steps, you’re being pulled back into the firmness of his chest. He’s sure enough laughing now, the vibration rushing straight into your back right along with the warmth of his body. So are you. He only has one arm secured around your waist and, despite the fact that he’s not even trying, it's enough to hold you.

“Wait, wait, wait—hold on a second!” your words come out giggly both because you’re anticipating some sort of attack, and because he’s never held you quite like this before. Unlike a normal hug, this feels like he has you rather than you having each other. It’s vulnerable. Dizzying.

“You win, you win!”

“What?” he laughs in surprise. His mouth is so close to your ear that you shiver. “Thought you had more fight in you than that,” there’s a playful warmth to his words.

You shake your head in denial and relax back into him. You didn’t stand a chance of winning unless he let you, and you were more than willing to tap out early. Because even so, you were still in his arms at his mercy, and somehow that felt like the safest place to be. By the time you realize both of your laughter has faded to a thoughtful silence, he’s pressing a featherlight kiss to the shell of your ear.

When he lowers his arm from around your waist, you turn around to face him.

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. He suddenly looks boyish, younger. Having crawled out of whatever shell of crushing expectation and responsibility he usually resided within.

When he cups your face and presses his lips to yours, his shoulders relax and his breaths slow. And for once, he indulges. In you. In the prospect of having someone to lean on and being leaned on in return. It’s a reminder that he’s allowed to experience nice things. To have a life to look forward to outside of lending himself to cause after cause.

You’re soft, and warm, and everything good a person could be. He pulls away slowly after a while, blinking down at you with heavy eyelids. You’re looking right back at him like he’s the world itself.

“Maybe you’re not so terrible,” you whisper, smiling.

Of everything he was feeling now, restless wasn’t one of them.

Thank you so much for reading! I promise I see every like, comment, and reblog and appreciate them all very much.

To join my “taglist,” follow @taleseverlasting

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x fem reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n

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xoqox · 1 month ago

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・┆✦ʚ ꜱʜᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀ(-)ᴡᴀʏ ɞ✦ ┆・

𖹭.ᐟ Prologue

𓍼 cw: use of kms/kys as jokes 𓍼 wc: 629

m.list || next chapter

Shit. Holy fucking shit.

Mouth full of noodles, hand instinctively gripping harder on your chopsticks, eyes wide and staring right into Atsumu's brown orbs from right across the room.

“Shit,” the blonde man mutters under his breath, immediately recognizing his old teammate sitting in the booth in the back of the restaurant.

Kuro waves a hand across your face, oblivious to the three men behind his back who just walked inside. “Hey, yn? You still with us?” You only swallow in response, nearly choking on your food before your lips finally part. “Atsumu?”

It doesn't take longer than a couple of seconds for him to reach your table. “l/n y/n?!” Atsumu exclaims with both shock and excitement as he looks down at you. He huffs out a chuckle, and then a smile follows: “Holy fuckin' shit, it is you!”

That's what I said!

Whatever nervousness took over you when you first saw him moments ago practically evaporates the longer you look at him. His genuine smile, the way his whole face lights up when he says your name. You almost forgot how easily Atsumu can spread his warmth to those around him.

“It's been a while!” You say softly with a smile of your own.

After a few awkward introductions, a very loud and excited greeting from Bokuto, and a noise complaint from one of the tables nearby, the two groups decide to have lunch together.

“What's m'favorite manager up ta nowadays, hm?” Atsumu hums as he turns to face you next to him. “Besides stealin' m'heart as usual.”

You scoff with your eyes rolling at the setter's familiar flirty teasing, “I'm studying in college; just did a presentation this morning, actually.”

Atsumu's eyes widen, and a grin spreads on his lips. “Here in Osaka?” You raise a brow, yet nod nonetheless, “Since graduation, ya've been here?!”

“Yes?” You can't help but chuckle, finding his shock amusing for whatever reason. “What's so exciting about that?”

Instead of replying, Atsumu pulls out his phone with a grin plastered all over his face. “We gotta get the band back together!”

Your eyes widen, gaze instantly dropping to his phone, where he's already typing to god knows who, “W-wait, Atsumu! What the fuck do you mean—”

“C'mon! Me, Samu and Gin moved t'Osaka after graduation. Kita and Aran are here too, last time I checked...” You watch as his fingers keep tapping on his phone while the implications of his words slowly start turning the cogs in your brain, “We just need t'get the rest of the guys here!”

“For what, Atsumu?”

“Duh! A reunion!”

A reunion.

With your old classmates and teammates.

Your wide-open eyes instantly turn to look at Kiyoko on the other side of the table, who somehow, amongst the endless chatter from the rest of the guys at the table, caught your nervousness at Atsumu's suggestion.

No, not suggestion.

Announcement is the better word for it.

You shake your head just enough for Kiyoko to understand that you clearly don't know what to do. She only presses her lips in a thin line and raises her shoulders slightly in reply.

Unluckily for you, Kiyoko isn't the only one on the table with keen observation. “Yer like pale as a ghost,” Atsumu huffs out with a laugh. “C'mon! It'll be fun! Just like the ol'days!”

God this man can't read a room for his life.

“Is it Samu? I'm sure yer gonna be just fine; it's been ages since that.”

Point proven.

“No, I—” You sigh with your eyes closed, “I just don't know if I have time for a reunion right now. I'm very busy with classes and—”

“Buuuullshit.” Atsumu looks at you, visibly disappointed by your excuse. “I'll give ya till tonight ta give me a yes.”

𖹭.ᐟ fun facts

༝༚༝༚ the clique gc includes the twins, suna, gin and yn. they made it during their first year in Inarizaki

likes & (<) reblogs are very much appreciated ♡

#haikyuu smau #osamu smau #suna smau #haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #suna x you #suna x y/n #osamu miya x reader #osamu x you #suna rintaro x reader #miya osamu x reader

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callme-darling · 1 year ago

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₊˚⊹ ᰔ ok but what about vincent who likes to see his pretty girl squirm??

word count: ~625

warnings: smut, vincent renzi x fem reader, implications of oral sex (f receiving), fingering, poorly used french, dom vincent, throat holding (no choking), implications of p-in-v

a/n: this is just a quick lil drabble i thought up while making dinner (i need to be sedated), also the way he looks in that gif legitimately makes me lose control of my frontal lobe

“ba- baby, wait.. wait-“ you plead, what feels like a futile attempt to get the man between your legs to give you a moment of reprieve.

through fluttering lashes, you’re able to glance down and see soft locks of ash-grey pull away from your core, a pair of blue eyes, shining bright in the glow of the golden hour, peering into you.

wet lips brush against the inside of your thigh, his smirk evident as he kissed the skin. “yes, my love?”

fuck, the teasing tone should irk you, but the butterflies in your stomach can’t seem to stop pulsing against your ribcage. your heart is nearly hammering in your chest as you attempt to calm down, stabilize yourself. when you don’t say anything, vincent merely chuckles quietly. his sharp eyes study you for a moment longer before he lets your knee fall from his shoulder and slides his body to hover over yours. you admire him up close now, cheeks flushed with want.

the quiet rasp in his voice sends a chill down your spine as he speaks close to your ear, his breath warm against the skin. “what does my pretty girl need from me?”

you swallow, a newfound shyness overwhelming you as you feel your pussy clench around nothing, embarrassingly wet as if he hadn’t just spent the last 45 minutes using his tongue til you were begging for a moment to catch your breath. your thighs twitch as his right hand teasingly cups your poor pussy, his fingertips tracing your wet folds. the lewd wet-clicking sounds only served to make your blush grow fiercer, your chest rising and falling as he kept his cool gaze trained on you, seemingly nonchalant.

if it weren’t for the prominent buldge in his boxers, a small spot of precum already staining the material, you would’ve fallen for his indifferent demeanor.

with a skillful brush of his finger against your pulsing clit, you’re drug from your scattered thoughts, a sharp whine coming from the back of your throat.

“i asked you a question.” his voice vibrated in your ears, his accent more prominent as he willed his composure to endure. the tip of his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip as he sucks in a sharp breath. “putain (fuck).. you’re so wet..” as if to prove his point, he slipped two fingers into your heat with an embarrassingly wet squelch, barely audible over your sweet moan.

you felt your eyes flutter as he slowly began to tease his fingers in and out, falling into a soft rhythm that had you digging your prettily manicured nails into his shoulder, mouth agape as you pant and whine in time with the thrust of his experienced fingers.

he couldn’t pry his eyes from you, his own lips parted as he watched your body react so readily to him. before he could stop himself, his lips were against your cheek, his eyelashes tickling your skin as he whispered, “tu es tellement jolie, putain- je vais me faire jouir, merde.. (so fucking pretty)- (gonna make me come, shit..).”

you squeeze your eyes shut, damn near whimpering as he pulls his fingers away from you. you open your mouth to complain, but a gentle hand on your throat pushes any thought of objection out of your mind.

vincent’s face ghosts over yours, his pupils blown. “i’m going to fuck you.” his eyes flick to your swollen lips and then back to yours, “think you can handle that, ma chérie?”

you suck in a breath, your own hands coming to wrap around the wrist of the hand holding your throat. you nod dumbly, your mind empty aside from the man above you.

“mots (words), words love, i need to hear you say it.”

“please, vince, please fuck me.”

your pussy clenches as he smirks at your admittance. his lips are warm against yours, his tongue teasing your bottom lips before he pulls away an inch. “that’s my girl.”

#♱₊˚✧ filth .#swann arlaud #anatomy of a fall #anatomie d'une chute #vincent renzi smut #anatomy of a fall vincent #vincent renzi #actor

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palmolli · 3 months ago

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Kinda wish that dlc where you play as sksw Zelda actually got made. Imagine it had the memory recovery system of Breath of the Wild. That would be so freaking sick, but Nintendo doesn't have the balls. The implications of what happened during the war between Hylia and Demise is honestly horrific. In the opening cutscene with the cave paintings, it showed a LOT of people just being straight up BURNED. Hylia definitely saw a lot of that. So... in theory, Zelda was ALSO subjected to that, AGAIN. SKSW ZELDA HAS WAR PTSD. IM TELLING Y'ALL. And to relive all of that at the ripe ol age of seventeenish... is not good for the psyche. Nobody talks about her trauma enough, and it makes me big sad. ALSO. If I'm remembering correctly, Zelda's way of speaking sorta changed? Like... uhhmmmdjdj...

You can't convince me something didn't fundamentally change in her brain. Is this a stretch??? WHY IS SHE TALKING LIKE THATT??? gosh, the agnst potential here is CRAZY. Like. Be Link. Save the world or whatever, and now your girlfriend is suddenly spitting out philosophy and talking like a poet out of nowhere. That'd be kinda disorienting. Even more disorienting is having the memories of a past life along with your own. Like, uh... what if she asked Link about something she thinks happened, and he's just like... "Huh?" And she'd just be like, "Oh, that happened when I was Hylia, nvm."

ALSO IMPA!??!?!? like she DEFINITELY had a close relationship with her as Hylia maybe, I headcanon she saw Impa as a daughter, and then the roles got swapped when she became Zelda. Or... oh God PLEASE DONT MAKE THIS A PEARL AND ROSE QUARTS SITUATION PLEAAAHAHEEESEEEE 🙏🙏

Anyways. During that journey, she definitely grew attached to Impa, especially because she already knew her in a past life, which is kind of a special connection my dudes. And then BOOM she disappears. Bye bye warrior woman you will be missed dearly.

Cough. Okay to sum this up:

Live life normally as just a girl in school. Yippie, everything is awesome. Everything is cool when you're part of a team. Oh, sick, your crush won the race thing despite not studying a day in his life, and you've built up the courage to FINALLY ask him out-

Uh oh! TORNADO! and now you're in an entirely different land basically surrounded by monsters, defenseless, apparently despite the fact you've been attending a knight school for twelve or so years, you freaking nepo baby (affectionate). Grandma lady saves you. Then uh cool mysterious lady starts guiding you, and apparently you've known her in a past life-

War flashbacks. Some ash baby lookin ahh dude slaughtered a bunch of people bc he wanted some golden doritos, also, you used to be a goddess, the same one you worshipped and prayed to all the time. What the flip. What's Link gonna think about this? WHAT? YOUVE BEEN BASICALLY USING HIM? WHAT? PARDON? NO?! WHAT THE FLIPPITY JIPPITY. You tell him after he does some stuff belehsiebr then get sealed away and have to see him claw at you at bawl his eyes out. Not traumatizing at all. Then when you finally get reunited, a RuPaul's Drag Race reject pops in and kidnaps you and steals your soul to revive Temper Tatrum Ash Baby. Link beats both of them up. Also that dude who bullied him and had a crush on you is cool now. How sick! But OH SHART. IMPA ISNT COMING WITH YOU BACK TO THE PRESENT? oh haha she was just the old lady this whole time she's right there-

And she exploded.

Just great!

Not traumatizing at all.

idk, I just feel like she's such an interesting character who gets kinda mischaracterized all the time without taking into account that she suffered too. STOP VILLAINIZING MY BABY, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE SHE'S NOT EVIL.

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ceaseless-exhauster · 1 month ago

Text

If you don’t actually read everything I have to say on this then don’t fucking interact, I’ve run out of energy to repeat myself in new ways for people who don’t have reading comprehension to begin with.

I’m actually fucking speechless (I’m not, as you will soon see, but fuck). Because here’s the thing: I have no doubts that these tweets are from real people who are afraid. I see plenty of bot activity online created by scammers trying to monopolize on a crisis like they always do, and this doesn’t strike me as that. I have never said and will never say that things are not terrifying and tragic in Gaza and the West Bank, nor that the Israeli government is doing things that are right and clearly justifiable.

All these things are true. And yet I’m fucking FLABBERGASTED. “Countless new Anne Franks in real time”?????? Are you shitting me? Are you actively pissing down my back right now. Let’s start with the simpler issue of: fuck you, Anne Frank was a teenage girl who actually lived, not a fucking character archetype. The phrasing is truly insulting. More important than that though is the implications.

If Twitter had existed during the Holocaust and Anne Frank had tweeted fucking ANYTHING. ONE WORD. SHE *HERSELF* THE INDIVIDUAL WOULDVE BEEN HUNTED DOWN USING THE LOCATION DATA AND FUCKING SLAUGHTERED.

Because the Nazi regime was deeply concerned about eliminating every single Jew, as in every Jewish *individual* not just generally targeting some groups. And THAT is the difference between a genocide and state-sponsored violence. Genocides can be carried out using state-sponsored violence, and often are, but they are different things.

The Israeli government is using both state-sponsored violence and coordinated individual empowerment to take actions that directly harm and kill Palestinian civilians. I won’t use this specific post to get into the logistics, caveats, or non/justifications of that fact, I will simply move forward acknowledging it as a fact.

The fact that Palestinian citizens can utilize a public forum to air their fear and despair at all is a huge piece of evidence against the “it’s a genocide” argument. I am BEGGING white westerners to understand that posting on any social media is NOT tantamount to keeping a diary; it is not a guaranteed universal human right; it is not screaming into the void; it is not passive record keeping; it is most certainly not something someone who is being INDIVIDUALLY targeted is safe to do.

And that’s why I don’t cotton to the line about the war in Gaza or any part of Israeli occupation being a genocide. That word actually means something real fucking specific. Everyone loves to trot out mostly inaccurate shit about the Holocaust when they try to invoke the word genocide, because 1) Israel is involved in this conflict so duh, press on Jewish pain points and 2) that’s really the only genocide any of the people who like to throw the word around FUCKING KNOW ABOUT.

So I’m not gonna talk about that right this second, I’m gonna talk about the Mau Mau rebellion and subsequent genocide that began in the 50s, which I studied at length in college. This genocide was considered as such under the Lemkinian definition, which is the same one that could even potentially be used to apply to the war in Gaza and Israeli occupation since it is NOT the definition that deals exclusively with threats to human life, but also threats to culture, legacy, and identity.

British occupying forces attempted to crush the Mau Mau Rebellion by instituting detention camps - official British records claimed that around 30-80,000 people were detained, but extensive research in the 21st century has revealed the true figure to be somewhere between 160-320,000 individuals.

This massive number was achieved by British soldiers capturing ANYONE who was even suspected of being Mau Mau or sympathetic to the Mau Mau cause and detaining them. It’s important to know that Mau Mau was (and still is, because there are survivors still alive today) a political ideology marker identity, despite the fact that a cursory search on the subject will try to tell you it’s interchangeable with the ethnic identification term Kikuyu.

To bring this back to my general point about genocide: in a genocide, the state’s goal (and it MUST be a state or at least a group that is allowed to wield the monopoly of force held by a state, individuals or powerful groups cannot, by definition, commit genocide) is to eradicate the existence of a specified group, through eradication of life, culture, legacy, self-identification as part of the group, or any combination of these. The specified group must be separable based on immutable characteristics (ethnicity, religion, gender identity, etc) OR a political belief system, or a combination of any of these.

This is the GOAL. The MEANS by which this is achieved vary, with many commonalities (detention camps, death camps, mass murder, forcible “reeducation,” etc.), but for something to be a genocide, whatever means are used must be those which can select and target individuals. It can get confusing, I guess: genocide is about groups, but it has to focus on individuals in order to actually be achieved.

The war in Gaza cannot be a genocide. Civilians are not being targeted individually - they are being harmed and killed as casualties of war. Their quality of life is being eroded by harsh and inhumane international regulations on and interference with humanitarian aid and flow of services. In the West Bank, Palestinians are being displaced, harmed, and killed as casualties of unethical land grabs and improperly carried out transfers of land ownership.

Despite these terrible things, things I wouldn’t argue if you dubbed them atrocities, they are not features of genocide. No facet of the Israeli state is hunting down individual Palestinians to detain or kill or strip of their identity. The very fact that any Palestinian can safely tweet about anything at all is proof of this.

You can call Gaza an open-air prison all day and night, the fact remains that enforcing legal borders, WHETHER OR NOT THEY ARE BORDERS THAT MORALLY SHOULD EXIST IN THE FORM THAT THEY DO, is NOT an act of genocide. Engaging in large-scale combat as an act of war that incurs civilian casualties, even avoidable ones, is not an act of genocide. Did the Nazis do both of these things? Yeah, they sure did. They also presumably ate, slept, and shit. None of those things were part of the genocide.

You do a disservice to Palestinians themselves when you bandy about the term genocide, or when you make false comparisons like the one above. There is certainly a crisis happening, there’s no arguing with that; and yet, when we inflate and stretch the language we use to talk about it, often by invoking arguably one of the most compelling terms we can possibly use to talk about humanity’s crimes against one another, we water down the reality.

This isn’t a virtue signaling competition, and most certainly not one for the very folks who are tweeting about being afraid to die. Let’s be real: there’s very little ANY of us can do to impact the war in Gaza or any other situation in the Middle East, especially those of us who live in the global west. Perhaps one fucking thing we CAN do is choose our language carefully, and give even half of a shit about whether or not we’re trying to serve accuracy or instead serve propaganda machines.

TL;DR - you don’t get one, if you didn’t take the time to read it, examine whether you actually give a shit about the topic. If you don’t, then shut the fuck up.

#i/p conflict #i/p war #palestine #genocide #jumblr #jewblr

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tinfoil-jones · 8 months ago

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Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 2

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

Prev - Next

CH.2

"Don’t get me wrong, I stand in solidarity with all assortments of criminals, felons, and anyone who sticks it to the man, but damn do I hate being the man who gets stuck."

"This is for your own good."

"You're not the first kidnapper to tell me that.”

“...We’ll touch on that later. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been kidnapped by some delusional maniac.”

“...I meant physically. How are you handling your stitches?”

“They’re slightly better than the last set of shady back alley stitches I got. I thought you said you weren’t a medical doctor?”

“My fields of study are wide and varied, of course I’ve covered some basic medical topics.”

*Ford tosses a book titled ‘Battlefield Medicine and Emergency Blood Transfusions For Dummies’ into a drawer and closes it*

“Where are we, anyways?”

“We’re still in Gravity Falls, but in my research facility in the woods; right now we’re in my below-ground level lab. You’re in one of the containment cells I use for cryptids, monsters, and anomalies.”

“So, what, you're some kinda mad scientist? Are you gonna do some depraved experiments on me?”

“No, you’re staying there until you heal, and you admit you’re lying.”

“Lying about what, specifically? It’s a long list.”

“Lying about not knowing who I am. You’re only doing this so you can pretend you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That does sound like something I’d do. Did I sell you something that blew up or gave you a rash?”

“What-? No! You know what you did. Stop playing this ‘Not what he seems’ card, Stanley-.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“It’s your name.”

“Is it?”

“...What do you think your name is?”

“Stan.”

“And...?”

“And what?”

“Your surname. What's your surname?”

“Malone.”

“That’s your fake name this time? Stanley Malone?”

“Just Stan. I guess Stan might be short for Stanley? I don't think too hard about it.”

“It is short for Stanley. It can only be short for Stanley or Stanford and the latters already taken.”

“My ex used to joke around that my name must be Staniel... Heh, Rick you asshole.”

“Malone- Mr. Mystery, or whatever fake identity you’re using this time, it isn’t going to work on me. You’re a liar, Stanley Pines. And you’re staying in that cell until you admit it.”

“Ok, I’m a liar. Now let me out.”

“...No.”

---

“Last year Ma tried to call me and update me on whatever antics you were pulling at the time. I always hung up before she could try to get me invested. Is that what this is about? Are you angry I didn’t bail you out of whatever trouble you were in?”

“Last year’s a blur, PhD. But there’s nothing I did that a second mad scientist could have possibly helped me with.”

“I’m not a- second?”

“Sure you’re not a mad scientist, sure. You just have an evil basement sub-lab in the middle of some creepy woods. And you conveniently already had a prison cell with a one-way forcefield ready. And there’s a jar with eyeballs in it on your counter. A normal, sane scientist has all of these things.”

“Don’t patronize me, Stanley. I told you my specialty is anomalies. Of course I’d have a containment unit for anything human sized or greater.”

“And would a not-mad scientist miss their brother so much they go around knocking out and kidnapping the first person who looks like him?”

“I did not miss you-.”

“What happened to him, anyways? Did he die or something and this is how you're coping?”

“That- that isn’t funny Stanley!”

“And you’re a barrel of laughs yourself.”

*Ford gets up and approaches the cell, before reaching into his trench coat and pulling something out to show him*

“I don’t hate you, if that’s why you’re pulling this stunt. I still have this. I’m still mad, I haven’t forgiven you, but I never hated you.”

“Gee that’d be such a nice sentiment if I knew what the hell you’re talking about, and what that picture’s supposed to be.”

“It’s us when we were children.”

“Huh. Guess you do have an identical twin.”

“And that boat is the Stan O’War, we found it as boys and tried to fix it up. You always talked about sailing the world one day, and dragging me with you.”

“No thanks. I hate the ocean.”

“... What?”

“The ocean creeps me out, Doc. Really, any big enough body of water. They swallow you up, and you disappear. I wouldn’t sail the ocean, and I wouldn’t take some maniac like you with me.”

“... You’re not lying.”

“About not liking the ocean, or you being crazy as fuck? Because both are 100% no bullsh-”

“You… Truly don’t remember, you’ve lost your memory. Stanley, you have amnesia.”

To be continued...

#gravity falls #early amnesia au #he did it guys he said the title #mystery trio #ford finally tells his brother that he doesn't hate him but its all for nothing #ford isn't beating the mad scientist allegations anytime soon #Stan calling Ford anything but his name #fanfiction #fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #stanford pines #ford pines #stanley pines #stan pines #mullet stan #implied past stanchez

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ambiguous-avery · 2 months ago

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Moon Without Stars, Part 5

Sam Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 5448

Summary: Hunters – the people who lived fast and lawless – had one rule they all abided by. No attachments. And in a world where your first touch with your soulmate would leave a brand behind, No Touching was an unspoken second rule. Not everyone followed that, but you did. Or you tried to. The last thing you needed was for fate to be cruel and bind you to someone. Least of all someone like Sam Winchester.

Tags/Warnings: Soulmate AU, sad Sam (that’s a warning all of its own), idiots fighting fate, strangers to enemies to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, angst, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like men

A/N: Finally we can let these two start getting to know each other. Nothing says relationship building like forced proximity! Moon Without Stars Masterlist

Sam’s words were devastating.

They were a wrecking ball that crashed through the walls you had spent so long meticulously building up brick by brick. A breach that tore through the dam you had spent years building. A match that kindled your entire world to ashes.

And the worst part of it all? He didn’t say a goddamn thing about it. No gloating. No shoving your face in it. No smug smirk would’ve given you all the fuel you needed to hate his guts over it.

Instead, he simply came in the next morning with a plate of eggs and bacon and toast and a glass of orange juice. Freshly showered with his hair still damp, framing his face in soft waves. You wanted to run your fingers through it. He offered you a soft,

“Good morning,” as he held the plate out for you. “You should eat,” he said simply. “Need the energy if you’re gonna walk out of here in a week.” It wasn’t sarcastic. It wasn’t taunting. It was just… a statement. No different than if he had said that the sun was bright or the rain was wet.

“I don’t need your charity,” you muttered, even as you reached up for the plate.

“It’s not charity. It’s breakfast.”

You had to fight the smile that tugged at the corners of your lips and instead chose to stab the eggs with more force than necessary. Smartass. That was a line you might’ve said if the roles were reversed.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked.

“Doing what?” Sam’s voice was so maddeningly calm. So devoid of the triumph he should’ve been parading around in your face. He set the juice down next to your empty water cup.

"This." You gestured at the food, at him, at the room around you. "Taking care of me. Acting like... like we're..." The words died in your throat because you weren't sure what exactly you were trying to say.

Sam shifted his weight and loosely crossed his arms over his chest, those hazel eyes studying you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

"Like we're what?"

"Like we're friends," you managed, stabbing another piece of egg. "We're not friends, Winchester."

"No?" There was that small smile again, the one that barely lifted the corners of his mouth but somehow reached his eyes. "What are we then?"

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications you weren't ready to face. You chewed slowly, buying yourself time.

"We're... temporary allies," you decided. "Sharing space until I can get the hell out of here." Sam chuckled, and the sound did something warm and dangerous to your insides.

“Temporary allies,” he repeated, as though he were tasting the words. “Is that what you call someone who stitches you up and makes you breakfast?”

You crammed an entire piece of toast in your mouth to avoid answering, but Sam just stood there, patient as ever while you chewed. It was infuriating how he could just wait, like he had all the time in the world for you to find your words.

"I didn't ask you to do any of that," you finally muttered.

"No, you were too busy bleeding out in the back of the Impala.” Even though his tone was gentle, there was still a bite in his words. "Look, we don't have to be friends. But you’re stuck here for now, so can we at least play nice while we share space?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"I don't play nice, Winchester. I hunt alone for a reason."

"Yeah, and how's that working out for you?" He gestured to your bandaged side with a pointed look. You wanted to throw the plate at him, but the food was too damn good to waste. Instead, you took another aggressive bite of bacon and glared.

"Fine," you conceded. "I'll play nice. But don't expect me to braid your hair or share my deepest darkest secrets over a bottle of wine."

The smile that spread across his face was like sunrise breaking through storm clouds – unexpected and annoyingly beautiful.

"I'll cancel the slumber party I was planning, then." Despite yourself, a laugh escaped your lips before you could swallow it down. Sam's eyes lit up at the sound, and something in your chest tightened uncomfortably. You covered your traitorous mouth with your hand, silently cursing yourself for giving him the satisfaction. But the damage was done. He'd heard you laugh, and judging by the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, he was entirely too pleased with himself.

"Don't look so smug," you grumbled. "I'm delirious from pain meds."

“Sure you are.” And you didn’t have to look at him to hear the smile in his voice. “When you’re done with breakfast, I need to change the dressings on those wounds and make sure things look okay.”

“I can do it myself,” you said automatically, the words coming out before you could stop them. It was a reflex at this point. A constant need to keep everyone else an arm’s length away.

“Really? You’re going to reach around and take care of the ones on your back?” When you glanced up at him between bites, you could see that he had arched an eyebrow. You chose not to dignify that question with an answer.

“Don’t suppose I can get a shower before the dressings go back on, can I? Feels like I got mauled by a pack of werewolves.”

“Those stitches are fresh. You should probably wait at least until tomorrow before getting them wet,” he said. You sighed and gingerly leaned back against the pillows.

“Fine. But I’d like to get a real shower as soon as possible.”

“I can help you with that,” Sam offered before immediately backpedaling when you stared at him wide-eyed. “I mean– not– I can pick up some stuff for you. Not actually, uh, you know...” His cheeks flushed pink, and you felt a flutter of amusement. He looked good when he was flustered. What else could you do to fluster him like that?

“Careful, people might think you care.”

“Heaven forbid,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. You couldn’t help but notice the way the damp strands curled slightly towards the ends. “I’ll, uh, I’m just gonna go grab some things. I’ll be back in a bit.” And with that, he excused himself from the room.

Left alone, you stared at the empty doorway, feeling strangely bereft without Sam’s presence. You poked at the remaining food on your plate, irritated by how much you had enjoyed the interaction with him. And how long had it been since someone cooked for you? Years, probably. The life of a hunter wasn’t the most conducive to home-cooked meals. Or any kind of domesticity. You let out a frustrated sigh.

The problem wasn’t that Sam was unkind. He was the exact opposite. He was too kind. Too gentle. Too damn understanding. It would be so much easier if he were some self-assured asshole that gave you more than enough reasons to hate him. But he wasn’t. You didn’t have a single genuine excuse to despise him.

You liked Sam. A lot.

And that was the problem. You had told yourself that leaving those last two times was the right thing to do. That the universe was wrong to mark you as his. That someone like you – broken, sharp-edged, foul-mouthed – had no business being tied to anyone, let alone someone as good as Sam Winchester. He deserved someone who still believed in the magic of soulmates like he did. Who still believed that the mark was a gift. A cosmic reassurance that you weren’t meant to be alone in the world.

Because to you, it was more like a curse. A reminder of what you weren’t allowed to have.

You finished your breakfast, surprised by how hungry you had actually been. The plate had been scraped clean by the time Sam returned with an armful of medical supplies.

“Good to see you’ve got an appetite,” he said, setting everything down on the bed.

“Food’s food,” you replied with a shrug that you immediately regretted as pain shot through your side.

“Careful,” Sam warned, his voice dropping to that low, concerned tone that made your stomach do strange things. “I need you to sit up a bit more and lift your shirt on the right side.”

You hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t that you were shy – modesty wasn’t a luxury you could afford in your line of work. You’d patched yourself up in gas station bathrooms, motel rooms, and the back seats of stolen cars. You’d stripped down in front of strangers when necessary, all in the name of survival.

But this felt different. More intimate somehow. Knowing that Sam’s full attention would be on you. His hands on your skin. If you made a move on him, just how long would his touch stay innocent and gentle?

“I can turn around if you want,” he offered, misinterpreting your hesitation.

“Wha– I’m not some maiden clutching my pearls,” you scoffed before tugging the borrowed t-shirt up to expose your bandaged side and shoulder. You slid your arm from the sleeve and let the extra fabric bunch up at your front to maintain some semblance of your dignity. “I’ve been stitched up by shadier characters than you.” Sam chuckled as he knelt beside the bed.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he said, carefully peeling back the adhesive tape. “Though, the bar for ‘shadier than me’ might be lower than you think.” You tried to focus on the ceiling rather than the jolts of electricity his fingers sent through your skin as he worked.

“What, you got a dark past I should know about?”

“Don’t we all in this line of work?” His tone was light, but when you glanced at him, there was something in his eyes that made you wonder just how many ghosts of his own he was carrying. But before you could dwell on it too much, he gently pulled away the old dressing, and you couldn’t suppress the hiss that escaped you as the cool air hit your wound.

“Sorry,” he murmured, inspecting his handiwork. You looked down at your side, finally able to get an idea of the damage you had sustained. There was a single, long gash that ran perpendicular to your ribs that had been neatly stitched back together with black thread. The edges of the wound were jagged and swollen and angry. “It’s looking better than it did. Less inflamed than when I put the stitches in.”

“You can thank my superhuman healing abilities,” you quipped, trying to keep the tone light and ignore how close his face was to yours. How you could smell the clean scent of his shampoo. Your eyes found the desk that sat in the corner of the room, and you spent way too much effort memorizing the little details of it.

The room fell silent as Sam worked except for the occasional sounds of crinkling gauze packaging and medical tape ripping. Despite yourself, your gaze drifted back to him, studying the concentrated furrow of his brow and the way his lips pressed together as he focused. And his goddamn hands. They were impossibly gentle for their size, careful not to do anything that would lead to unnecessary tugging or discomfort.

Though, no amount of mental distraction was enough to fully tune out the way every brush of his fingers against you sent pure electricity through your system. It was no small feat to hold still, but even when you twitched or jerked slightly, he didn’t say anything. No reprimands. No chiding. Just wordless care. It was unsettling. For you at least.

“You’re good at this,” you admitted reluctantly. “Not your first rodeo, I’m guessing?”

“Dean and I have had a lot of practice patching each other up over the years,” he said, his mouth quirking up slightly.

There was another deep wound that curved from your collarbone, over your shoulder, and down across your shoulder blade, and Sam had a point that there was no amount of twisting or contorting that would let you take care of that one by yourself. Two others on your mid-to-lower back added to that point. When Sam was done, he set about cleaning up the mess he had made, tossing wrappers into the garbage before moving to grab your empty plate from where you had set it down.

“Dean and I are going to do a supply run here soon. I can grab some things for you. Do you still have my number?” Memorized it. Forwards, backwards, upside down, you could recite it in at least three languages. Just in case.

“It’s somewhere around here,” you said nonchalantly.

“Well if you need anything specific, just text or call,” Sam said. “I know being stuck here isn’t ideal.”

You nodded, tugging your – Sam’s – shirt back down. The bunker was stifling in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature. The weight of the domesticity, of being cared for, was what made it hard to breathe. You weren’t used to staying in one place for more than a couple of nights, let alone being confined to a bed while someone fussed over you.

“Some clothes of my own would be nice,” you admitted. “And I don’t know what kind of soap situation you guys have here, but if all you have is a five-in-one bodywash-shampoo-conditioner monstrosity, then I’m going to walk out of here by the end of today.”

Sam laughed, the sound rich and warm, and your mark decided that it was singlehandedly the best sound you had ever heard in your entire life. No contest.

“Noted. Text me your sizes. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Hey,” you blurted out before he could leave. He paused in the doorway, turning back to look at you with those patient eyes.

“Yeah?”

Your throat constricted. What were you going to say? Thank you? Sorry for being so difficult? I’ve been running from you because I’m terrified that the second I give in the universe is going to take you away from me? Instead, all that came out was,

“Nothing floral. With the soap, I mean. I don’t want to smell like a flower shop exploded.” You saw the ghost of a smile tug at his lips.

“Got it. No flowers. Any other preferences I should know about?”

“I like mint. Or… citrus is fine.” You fidgeted with the edge of the blanket, suddenly feeling ridiculous for making such a silly request.

“Mint or citrus. I can manage that.” And with that, he left.

You sank into the pillows with a heavy sigh, your weight sagging into them with a tiredness that permeated through your bones. You drained your glass of water before pulling the blankets up a little higher over you and letting the warm feeling of safety lull you into a surprisingly peaceful sleep. Thoughts of Sam’s hands on you chased you into your dreams.

When you woke, you found yourself bathed in darkness. The lamp on your bedside table had been turned off, and without any windows in the room, it was hard to say how long you had been out for. Everything felt stiff and sore from sleeping in one position for too long, and your mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. You fumbled around for the lamp, wincing as soft, golden light flooded the room when you found it.

Your water glass was full. And four pills had been set out in one of those plastic dosage cups that came with liquid medicines. You groaned as you sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed, testing the give of your wounds. You were achy for sure, but not so much that you couldn’t manage a small walk. Anything to get out of bed. You downed the pills with a happy gulp of water, sighing in content as you did so.

There was a small bag sitting on the chair Sam had occupied earlier, and curiosity got the better of you. When you peeked inside of it, you found clothes that weren’t yours but were definitely meant to be. A simple pair of black sweatpants, a soft gray t-shirt, and a pack of underwear that still had the tags on them. There was also a small toiletry bag with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a bottle of citrus-scented body wash. No floral nonsense, just as you had requested.

You went back and double checked the tags on the clothes, realizing that you hadn’t ever texted Sam. You had meant to, really. But he seemed to have guessed your size just fine regardless. You grabbed your phone off the bedside table and checked it.

2 New Messages

1 Missed Call

You navigated to your calls, and you swore your heart skipped a beat seeing HIM on your missed call list. The call had come in several hours ago. Unsurprisingly, the two texts were from him too. When had he gotten… right. When you had texted him in a moment of weakness during the time you had spent avoiding him. How could you forget?

What size shirt and pants do you wear?

I guessed on the sizes. Hope I wasn’t too far off the mark. Let me know if you need anything else.

You stared at the messages, warmth spreading through your chest despite your best efforts to squash it. You glanced at the time on your phone: 9:43pm. Jesus… you had slept the entire day away. You changed into the fresh clothes, hesitating when it came to stripping out of Sam’s shirt. You weren’t ready to give that up so soon. So you simply changed into a fresh pair of underwear and the sweatpants.

It hadn’t even been a full 24-hours since you first woke up here, but it would be nice to get to know the layout of the place a little better, especially if you were going to be stuck here for the next week. Not to mention there was an uncomfortable pressure in your bladder. And the idea of leaving the confines of your room was too tempting to ignore.

The hallway outside your door was well-lit. The bunker was quiet except for the dull hum of electricity and the occasional creaking that every old building seemed to make. You moved slowly, one hand trailing along the wall for support, bare feet against the cold bunker floor. The place was much larger with far more rooms than you had initially expected. There was a number ‘20’ on your door, and you briefly wondered how many other people called this place home. Or at least home base.

You had no idea where anything was, but your stomach growled. It echoed in the hallway and reminded you that breakfast had been your only meal of the day so far. Okay, new plan. Kitchen then bathroom. Sam had brought in freshly cooked food earlier which clearly meant there had to be a kitchen around. Or a hot plate. Maybe a stash of MREs? It took you a few wrong turns before you finally found the kitchen in question. But not before you had stumbled into a library of sorts. You filed the location of that away for later. For now, food.

You flipped the kitchen light on and dug through the cupboards, trying to find something edible that wouldn’t take much effort to put together. Just the walk to the kitchen had quickly burned through what little energy you had, though you weren’t sure if it was the lack of food or your body healing that took it more out of you. The cupboard was surprisingly well-stocked. Whoever lived here clearly shopped regularly, which struck you as odd for hunters. Most of the ones you knew lived off of convenience store food and booze, you included. Then again, Sam had mentioned earlier about a supply run, so more than likely it was just the aftermath of that.

You moved to the fridge and opened it, the light inside casting a soft glow that spilled onto the tiled floor. Carefully, you scanned the shelves, reaching for an apple but pausing when you spotted something better on the top shelf. Sitting in the corner was a pie tin with a single slice remaining. It took you all of three seconds of consideration before you reached for it. Leftovers always tasted better at night. It was a secret of the universe that anyone would’ve agreed with you on.

You moved with quiet precision, a habit you had developed in your years of hunting. It had been ingrained in you from the very beginning to never make more noise than necessary. As your fingers closed around the pie tin, the cold metal of it bit against your skin. You slid it from its spot carefully and set it on the counter before closing the fridge door with a soft thump, sealing the pie’s fate as your prize. Lost in the sweet indulgence of stolen pie, you missed the way your mark had warmed, and it wasn’t until Sam cleared his throat that you swiftly pulled one of the kitchen knives from the block on the counter and whirled around to face him, your stitches pulling uncomfortably with the sudden movement.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there!” Sam’s hands went up in a gesture of surrender, palms facing you like a shield. “It’s just me.” You huffed out a sigh, your grip on the knife relaxing ever so slightly as your shoulders sagged.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed, “Don’t you know better than to sneak up on someone?” Your heart hammered against your ribcage, adrenaline coursing through you. Sam’s lips quirked upward, his eyes flicking between your face and the knife still pointed at him.

“Says the person stealing pie in the middle of the night.” He took a cautious step forward. “You gonna put that down or…?”

You slowly lowered the knife, watching his slow movements towards you.

“I was hungry,” you explained, setting the knife down and gesturing vaguely to the pie. “Didn’t want to wake anyone up.”

“So you decided to steal Dean’s pie instead?” Amusement was laced in Sam’s voice as he spoke. “That’s bold of you. He counts the slices, you know.”

“Oh.” You glanced down at the dessert. “Sorry, I didn’t realize–”

“No, no,” Sam chuckled, moving to your side and pulling out a fork from a nearby drawer. His arm brushed against yours, and you felt your mark hum in response. “This is actually perfect. He’s been annoying me all day.” He handed you the fork. “I’ll just tell him a stabby raccoon got into it.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, a slow smile spreading across your face despite your best efforts.

“Stabby raccoon? Really?”

“If the knife fits.” Sam leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement drew your attention to the way his flannel stretched across his shoulders. They were so damn broad, and with him standing right next to you, it was impossible not to notice just how tall he stood. He was an absolute mountain of a man. A mountain you’d like to climb. You’d gotten pretty decent at identifying which thoughts were your own and which ones were coming from your mark. And that was definitely the mark talking. Though… you might’ve agreed with it… just a little bit.

“I’ve been asleep all day,” you defended, popping off the plastic cover of the pie and digging your fork in. “I’m starving.” The first bite was heavenly. Sweet but not overwhelming. With just the perfect amount of cinnamon to offset it. Even cold, it was delicious. You briefly closed your eyes, savoring it. You couldn’t think of the last time you had treated yourself to a simple indulgence like this. When you opened your eyes to go for another bite, Sam was watching you with an expression that made you pause.

“Good?” he asked, his voice softer than before.

“Really good,” you admitted between bites. “Though now I understand why your brother would count the slices.”

“Dean would be happy to hear that. Well… after he murdered you for eating his last slice.” Sam’s smile was infectious, and you took another bite in an attempt to stifle your grin. The kitchen was quiet except for the soft scrape of your fork against the metal tin. You were painfully aware of his presence beside you. The silence between you stretched, though it wasn’t quite as uncomfortable as you remembered it.

“I’m surprised you’re up and walking around already,” he said finally. “Those were some pretty nasty wounds.”

“I’m not the type to stay in one place for too long. I’d go stir-crazy if I stayed in that room the whole week.”

“I can imagine. You don’t strike me as someone who likes being cooped up.” You paused mid-bite, studying him with a sideways glance.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re stubborn,” Sam replied without missing a beat. “I know you’re resourceful enough to survive on your own for years. You’re brave to the point of recklessness. And I know that you’re good at what you do.” His eyes never left yours as he spoke. The fork stilled halfway to your mouth, pie precariously perched on the tines. How could he do that? How could he peel back your layers so easily? It wasn’t fair. You had spent years building your walls, but here he was, walking right through them like they were nothing.

“Those are generalizations that could apply to any hunter,” you countered, setting the fork down with more force than necessary. “That’s not knowing me.” Sam shrugged, his shoulders rolling with the movement.

“Maybe not. But I’d like to.”

The simple honesty in his voice caught you off guard. It would’ve been so much easier if he just kept his distance. If he treated you with the same guarded suspicion that you gave to everyone else. That was a dance you knew by heart, and you could do it all day long. Keeping people at an arm’s length away and never letting them any closer was something you could do as easily as breathing. It kept them safe, you told yourself. It kept you safe.

“And what if you don’t like what you find?” The words came out as a whisper, far more vulnerable than you had intended. Sam moved a fraction closer, his side just barely touching your shoulder. You could feel his warmth through the fabric of his shirt. Your mark practically sang at the contact, and you couldn’t deny that it felt nice. You didn’t flinch away.

“I’m willing to take that chance.” His voice was low, almost a gentle rumble that you could feel in your chest. “You know what I think?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not,” you muttered, stabbing at the pie.

“I think you’re scared of something that isn’t a monster.”

And for the second time in less than 24 hours, his words hit like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from your lungs. Your fingers tightened around the fork until your knuckles turned white. You were exposed. Flayed open like a fish on a cutting board with your insides laid bare for him to see. Your knee-jerk reaction was to deny it. To cover it with your bravado you wore like armor. To push him away. To bare your fangs and claws to protect yourself. But wasn’t that what you had been doing? It was exhausting. The running. The hiding. The fighting.

“Aren’t we all afraid of something?”

Sam’s gaze was soft in the kitchen lighting. It simultaneously made him look younger and older. He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached for a second fork from the drawer and scooped up a bite of pie for himself. Your instinct was to protect your prize, to live up to your ‘stabby’ title and jab your fork into his outstretched hand. But something about the shared moment kept you from following through.

“Yeah,” he finally admitted, savoring his stolen bite. “We are. But most hunters run towards the things that scare them. Not away.” You set the pie down on the counter between you.

“That’s different,” you said, gingerly crossing your arms over your chest. “Monsters are predictable. You know what they want. What they’ll do. How to kill them.” You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Sam’s gaze on you. “People are messier.”

“Is that why you run? Because I’m messy?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications and unspoken secrets. You could lie. You could deflect. You could do what you had always done: run. But for the first time in a long time, you found yourself wanting to stay. Wanting to face this head-on.

“No. I am.” And something in you cracked a little more, the fracture spider webbing outwards. Sam’s eyes softened, and he set his fork down.

“We’re all messy. It comes with the territory.”

“No. Not like this. Not like me.”

“You wanna elaborate on that?” Sam asked, leaning his hip against the counter, his full attention on you. It was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating to be the sole focus of those hazel eyes. You liked how he looked at you.

“Not particularly.” You reached for the pie again, using it as a shield. A distraction. Anything to avoid the way he seemed to see right through your carefully constructed layers.

“Fair enough.” He didn’t push, and somehow that made it worse. The way he just accepted whatever you were willing to give. You ate the rest of the pie in silence, and he didn’t try for another bite even when you offered it to him.

"You should probably head back to bed," Sam suggested, his voice gentle in the kitchen's quiet. "Doctor's orders."

"You're a doctor now?" You raised an eyebrow, setting the empty pie tin aside.

"I've got more medical experience than most ER residents." There was no arrogance in his statement, just a simple fact. "And I say you need rest."

"Fine, Dr. Winchester." You pushed away from the counter and immediately regretted it as your legs wobbled beneath you. The short excursion had drained what little energy you'd managed to recover. Sam noticed instantly, taking a step toward you with his hands hovering near your elbows, ready to catch you but not quite touching.

"You okay?"

"Just peachy," you muttered, steadying yourself against the counter. Your pride wouldn't let you admit how weak you still were, but your body was betraying you with every trembling step. The journey to the kitchen had seemed manageable earlier, but now the prospect of walking all the way back to your room felt like scaling Everest.

The two of you walked back to your room in silence. Sam stayed close enough that you could hold onto him to steady yourself – you didn’t – but far enough away that you wouldn’t accidentally brush him against him. The message was clear enough. Any contact would have to be initiated by you. Which was good. That was how you wanted it. No touching beyond what was strictly necessary. Just how you liked it. Why were you disappointed?

“I’m right next door if you need me,” Sam said, motioning to the door with a ‘21’ on it. “And you can call or text anytime. If you’re up for it, I can show you around the bunker a bit tomorrow.” You studied him for a moment, trying to find the angle. The catch. But all you could find was sincerity.

“I’d like that,” you admitted, surprised by your own honesty. “I think I saw a library earlier?”

“Yeah. It’s a good one; you’ll like it,” he smiled slightly, a soft, gentle one that made your stomach flip. “Good night.” He said your name, and it was like you were hearing it for the first time. There was no edge to it. No underlying tone that suggested he was annoyed with you. Just… Sam.

You hesitated, parting your lips like you might say something more. But instead, all that came out was a quiet,

“Night.” The door clicked softly behind you, and you didn’t see how Sam lingered a moment longer, staring at the space where you had stood. You leaned against the door, heart thudding in a way you were too terrified to name.

The world was tilting towards Sam. And you were falling.

---

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Part 4 --- Part 6

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