#I recently learned that the official plush of hi

[starkittsy]

wisp venti is just so portable… he deserves a cozy spot to sit

[alister312]

Recently, some official South Park merch was released in claw machines across Japan! Since one of the designated machine locations was relatively near where I live, I made a weekend trip of it and thought it would be fun to share a bit of it with y’all 🥰 This will mostly focus on the info about the plushies but also touch a bit on the place I went to to get them. Read on if you’re interested!

Thanks to a tip from my good pal @allymumu, I learned about two different South Park claw machine merch drops happening in March. First were these plastic cases:

As well as these plushie keychains:

None of the machines carrying the plastic cases were anywhere near me, however one machine with the plushie keychains was! So I decided to head over to AruAru City (a 6 floor mall devoted entirely to anime/manga/games that houses the Kitakyushu Manga Museum) in Kokura to try my hand at winning these guys.

Once there, the claw machine was actually incredibly difficult to locate. I searched around for a while along with my friend who joined me on this trip. Eventually, we had to ask an employee where the machine was.

As you can see, it definitely needed to be pointed out!

Claw machines in Japan aren’t usually stuffed with prizes so when we got to it, there were only 3 of the 4 plushies available to win at a time, with employees restocking whenever the machine ran out.

This was actually perfectly fine for me because I hadn’t been planning on trying to win Towelie. Sorry to all the Towelie stans out there but I don’t care that much for him 😅 Crane games are just as much about luck as they are skill so I didn’t want to waste any more money than necessary. Plus, the claw machine was small and close to the ground, so it was kind of uncomfortable crouching down and playing at it for an extended period of time.

Surprisingly, getting Kenny and Stan was relatively easy! Probably 5-6 tries each.

Which, at ¥100 (~$0.66 USD) a try, is a reasonable amount to spend.

Butters, however… well, he lived up to his name and kept slipping out of the claw every time I got a grip on him. I’d prefer not to specify exactly how much I spent trying to get him but let’s just say it was a lot 😭 My friend was able to win him for herself though so I do have a picture of all the boys!

They’re very soft and well made, perfectly palm sized 🥰 The elastic feels a little short sometimes if you plan on looping the entire plush through it to attach it to something (I did this with my belt loop to carry them around with me) but with some squishing they get through just fine.

Since going on a trip just to win some plushies seems a bit crazy, my friend and I visited some other cool places in Kokura the next day! Of course, the plushies came with us. ケニーちゃんはかわいいプリンセスだから, I of course brought him to Kokura Castle.

Then basically right down the street is the TOTO Museum, a museum dedicated to the company TOTO. However, since TOTO specializes in toilets, this place is more colloquially known as the Toilet Museum. Considering Stan’s last season trauma surrounding Japanese toilets, I thought it would help give him closure or something to learn their history.

All in all, a very fun and rewarding trip! I really hope there’s more claw machine merch drops relatively soon. If there are and I can go, I promise to share the info with y’all just like this! Hope you enjoyed 💕

[flimsy-roost]

I'd like to talk about the latest Pokemon Center plush line!

I tend to avoid official nintendo merch, because I give that company enough of my money already. But White was the first Pokemon game I ever played (after saving my allowance for months for it and a used DS lite), so I have a very special place in my heart for gen5/Unova pokemon. When I heard they were releasing a line of Unova "Sitting Cutie" plushes, I wanted to at least check it out.

And I did! And I mildly disappointed my wallet! There are some bangers in here! But there are a lot of... decidedly un-bangers. Tippy-tappers at best. So I wanted to take the time to walk you through some of the ways this line fell short of its central claims: namely, Sits and Cuteness.

"Sitting"

I'd first like to address the distinguishing claim of the line; that each of these plush can sit up unsupported (or, more generously, could be propped up stably).

It would be easy to only give examples of pokemon that shouldn't have been considered for this line at all, of which there are many:

fig. 1) in what universe, praytell

But there were many more that were so, so close to plausibility in the face of physics, that really only needed a modified design direction.

Let's compare Eelektrik (left) to Serperior (right). Eelektrik is extremely top-heavy and prone to tipping, problems which could perhaps have been mitigated by a coiled design (like Serperior), or even as a flat. It could be argued that the current form stays true to the original art, which should always take precedent. I see you, and I hear you, and I disagree

A skosh below the "no way in hell" category of sittability, lay a group of lesser design sins broadly defined as "questionable in the face of a stiff breeze." For many plush in this category, the product designers could learn a thing or two from Toxel:

fig. 2) a well-balanced bean

Put another way, the popular rule-of-thumb "four on the floor," most commonly begged for in the context of starter evolution lines, may be applied to great effect:

Top-heavy Golurk? Four on the floor!

Tall, spindly, misguidedly "source-accurate" Genesect? Four on the floor!

Think of his poor Tepiggy spine! FOUR ON THE FREAKING FLOOR

Purrloin, look! Your big sibling has it down! Get at that generational knowledge, girl!

"Cuties"

I'm not aware of a single official merch line in existence that lacks at least one cursed artifact. Plush are particularly susceptible, and this line is no different.

While I have to give the designers props for a perfectly lovely Mienshao, they canonized my bestie as having a cringe childhood:

All this Mienfoo wants are uppies. How's she gonna kick ass when her feet go straight into her torso? Her glowup will never come if she can't even land a pound.

Entire evolution lines fell prey to design decisions here. Please compare gen5 Elgyem and Beheeyem to their inbred and deformed purebred domesticates:

fig. 3) has IV breeding gone too far?

Let us also more closely examine the full Sandile evolution line compared to wild type examples, as I consider these among the least forgivable offences:

Why is the plush Sandile so sad? Perhaps he knows what is to come.

Where sass? Why snoot so droop????

NO MY CREATCHURE?????? NO NONONO NOT THE SNOOT!!!!!!!

figs. 4-6) look how they slaughtered my boy

Finally, I would like to highlight a subset of the line that has Witnessed The Horrors. These are more subjective in their cuteness. You know the saying; one man's uncanny gremlin is another man's terrified blorbo.

Meet Drilbur, who has recently Seen Some Shit!

fig. 7) the boy who inspired this post, with WT reference

The bug-eyed-ness is what tips this into horror movie prop for me personally. I should not be able to see both his eyes from a diagonal. I could understand how some people could find him endearingly goofy, but my litmus tends to be: would I be amused to open my eyes to see him in the dark at 3am, or would I shit my pants? Drilbur here leans towards the latter.

Here is an example of a shell-shocked friend I find cute:

Crustle, normally hiding safely under their rocky shell, is leaned back to fulfill the barely-followed criteria of "sits," and so turns their eyes to god to ask why he has forsaken them. I love it.

BONUS CONTENT: KERMIT DEINO!!!!

:D

[dawnedon]

The Old Chateau - History and Overview

Eterna Forest's Old Chateau (dubbed in recent years by the locals as Mori no Yōkan (森の洋館)) is a sprawling estate situated in the north of the forest, nestled within large throngs of evergreen trees. The style of the manor is perplexing, mirror the architectural style of buildings commonly found overseas in regions like Unova or Galar.

Though a lot of the history of the family that built their mansion there has been lost to time, the style of the building makes sense upon learning of the family's overseas origin. They moved over to Sinnoh by boat, seeking to expand their business in an outside market.

This family, however, was besmirched and cursed by their own misfortune.

The boat ride over had been treacherous, as choppy waters and rough waves unlike any seen before battered the ship. It nearly capsized a couple of times, but fortunately remained righted as they made their first step into the Sinnoh region. With ungodly amounts of wealth, they were able to predetermine where they wanted their new estate built before they had even touched down on the land, having planned it all out long before they officially arrived.

Enough of the mansion had been built already for them to live in at the time, though by the time the manor had actually been finished in the early 1940's, tragedy struck.

The family dined separately from their staff of butlers and maids, and one of their rather old butlers had suffered a fatal heart attack during dinner. It happened right at the table, killing him before anyone could even think to move and help.

Since that day, both the family and the staff saw strange happening in the dining room. An apparition of this ghostly butler often seen sitting in the very place he died, sometimes moving towards the kitchen area. Upon entering, he was nowhere to be found, but the area took on an unmistakable chill.

This would not be the last of their misfortunes. The husband of the family would go on to have an affair with a woman from his now failing business - a secretary - leaving his wife to find out the hard way upon his affair partner becoming pregnant, and then dumping their child on him.

Though his wife was indescribably irate, she would stay, if only for the money.... but it became clear that this treachery had made this a woman most wicked. As the illegitimate daughter would grow older, so would the woman's ire. It was harder to look at the girl and not be reminded of her husband's betrayal.

In a fit of hysteria, one fateful autumn night, the wife would dose her husband's meal with a lethal dose of poison, before locking the illegitimate daughter in an empty, windowless room. With her husband having keeled over within the next few hours of dinner, and the daughter abandoned in a forgotten room, the wife would take the other three children and leave the manor. They left the Sinnoh region entirely, a dead father, a dead daughter, and a dying business left in their wake.

By the time police had arrived to the manor for a wellness check, it was too late. They discovered the body of the husband, sat in a plush chair in the library, eerily still... as if he'd simply fallen asleep, and would wake to return to his reading material at any moment. They discovered the body of the illegitimate daughter next. They took both of the bodies away, and with no way to contact the wife, the manor was condemned and fell quickly into disrepair due to the harsh Sinnohan elements.

The Old Chateau was quickly accosted by various ghost-type pokemon, including a Rotom that quickly overtook the family's old black-and-white television, among other appliances. There was great death in this estate, and the negative feelings and emotions that took hold of the building drew them in in droves.

This forgotten manor became a place of urban myth and legend as well to the locals, with rumors spreading quickly about the ghostly butler, along with the room housing the ghostly spirit of the little girl. In the library where the husband died, there were rumors about a painting with glowing red eyes, and a book that, when moved, housed a secret room behind the shelves.

It's become a frequent spot for teenagers and young adults to take part in 'tests of course' (kimodameshi), though as of late the amount of ghosts and their ferocity has kept many at bay.

In the past decade, the path leading up to the manor had become extremely overgrown with various bushes and small plants, becoming entirely inaccessible to the masses. Perhaps, due to the nature of the manor, that was for the best.

[akristyy]

Why Squishmallow is the best toy to have.

In 2022, Squishmallows was the number one toy sold. I’ve personally been a squishmallow collector since the beginning of 2021. However, years before I collected the toy, I was also a heavy collector of the Sumikko Gurashi plushes. Sumikko Gurashi is a tiny collectible squish, just like a Squishmallow from the San-X company. They’re almost identical, and actually, Jonathan Kelly, the man who created Squishmallow, was inspired by the Sumikko Gurashi when he visited Japan. 

Here are a couple of reasons why I believe Squishmallow is the best toy for anyone.

All of them are unique and special. If you ever bought a squishmallow, you will know each of them has a name and their character written on the tag. For instance, Tinley the Axolotl. Her birthday is on November 11, 2020. She loves to cook and recently became the head of chef for her new restaurant. She has a dish called Noni’s pasta, which is her specialty, dedicated to her Noni. Some collectors even speculate that one of the Squishmallows is inspired by the famous EDM DJ John Summit. Pyle, the lavender Squishmallow, has a description that had all the fans, both the squishmallow and John Summit, asking. The description for Pyle goes as follows:

“When the sun goes down. Pyle, the tax accountant, becomes DJ Pyle Remix, the hottest record-spinner in town. From disco to dubstep, this far-out fungus loves helping 'Mallows dance the night away. In fact, they sometimes boogie 'til breakfast! Got any requests?”

John Summit was also an accountant before his DJing career had taken off. These little details make Squishmallow fun to collect, and every time you get a new one, people get excited to see what kind of squish it is.

More information on each character’s personality can be found on Squishmallow Wiki: https://squishmallowsquad.fandom.com/wiki/Squishmallows_Wiki 

They’re actually soft and squishy. Now, I’ve been seeing and trying to find the perfect squishes this past year. Squishishable, which is a competitor of Squishmallow, also sells various plushes. I’ve touched them before, and they’re not even squishy. Squishmallow comes close to how Sumikko Gurashi feels, which is also, in my opinion, very squishy. 

The third reason I believe Squihsmallow is the best toy for anyone is its multiple uses. Obviously, you can put them on a shelf and let them sit in the corner of your room. However, they’re also used as a pillow, so the squishiness I mentioned in #2 matters a lot!! No studies have been shown, but a lot of people claim Squishmallow has helped them fall asleep when hugging their Squishmallow.

Lastly, they have multiple sizes. I know Sonny Angels is one of the top-rising toys for 2023. Yes, they’re also cute and collectible, but they don’t have multiple sizes like Squishmallows. Squishmallows can vary in size from 24 inches to 3 inches. There are also small squishmallow clips you can hang from your bags. 

Squishmallows were initially made for kids, but I really believe that Squishmallow is a perfect toy for anyone to have! Even my boyfriend has a couple of them!! 

Follow the link to learn more about different Squishmallows and to buy some!https://official-kelly-toys-squishmallows.com/

[whereisten]

Fuchsia-Colored Sunglasses 

Summary:

Your life is turned upside down when you’re transported into another reality by the enigmatic and mysterious old woman named Cyan. You find yourself an up-and-coming makeup artist whose latest client is the cocky fuchsia-haired rockstar Yuta Nakamoto. You struggle to find balance as Yuta is your most difficult client yet and you can’t seem to stop losing things in your apartment.

Meanwhile, Yuta is at the top of his game with his record-breaking band that’s about to tour and his perfect celebrity girlfriend. But he can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. When he meets you, however, he finally feels..at home.

In a reality where soulmates so rarely find each other, is it possible that the two of you will see the signs?

Pairing: Rockstar!Yuta x female reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, Fluff, comedy, a little smut, a tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 28.5K

Warnings: profanity, minor character death mention, alcohol mention

(A/N: we are so excited to finally post this for you guys!! It is for a collaborative project (A Colours AU) organized by the wonderful @neo-cult-ure . THANK YOU so much for inviting us to do this!! Please visit her tumblr for a complete list of all of the amazing works included in this project that we all worked so hard on❤️ with that being said, we hope you enjoy!! Thank you for supporting us!!)

[colours masterlist]: Click here to enjoy several amazing journeys :) 

——————

It really hasn’t been your day. There was just one problem after the other being thrown at you at work. Books often went missing at the library, but today an entire section was missing romance novels and no one seemed to know where they had gone. So you spent hours collecting them from other sections in the library, placing them on your cart as you moved through each lane. It doesn’t sound like a lot of work but for a library with 16 floors, it was just enough to make your head spin. Your day was long and boring.

And now, you learned that your favorite cafe was fresh out of your usual drink, an iced caramel latte, the perfect drink for a pick me up.

fantastic.

A sigh left your lips as you turned around the corner of the bathroom and walked face first into someone.

smack!

You stumbled back and then felt something wet on your clothes. Great.

“I..I’m so sorry about that.”  A lady’s voice caught you off guard as she quickly tried to clean up the situation.  She reached forward and grabbed your hands. A bit weirded out by the situation, you tried to pull your hands away but she didn’t let go, pulling you in closer so she could look into your eyes and capture your full attention.

“Dear, don’t be frightened, my name is Cyan and I am so very sorry...” Her eyes had a mysterious glow about them that you couldn’t understand. She seemed...otherworldly.

“Let me make it up to you.” Cyan said. “Here, pick a colour and you’ll meet your soulmate. However, you should be aware that each colour represents a different reality, and you only have one chance to bring them back to this reality.”

“Really?” you asked, clearly suspicious of the entire situation.

“Yes, now which would you choose?” she asked as she held out the tablet for you to pick a colour. You tilted your head to the side before just agreeing.

You typically liked to lay low, keep things normal and safe for your sanity. And love? Soulmates? Those were concepts that you never really thought too hard about. If it comes, it comes but you weren’t going to go out of your way for it.

But today was unlike any other day, everything went wrong, so what if...you did things differently for once? What if you took the chance to experience something...new? You had nothing left to lose, right?  

You reached forward to choose.

“Fuchsia.”

^_^

You sat at the kitchen table, your Bluetooth speaker playing your favorite song, “Breeze”. It was by the artist Mountain Man, whose identity was a mystery to the entire world. Your roommate Delilah came in to grab some orange juice from the fridge.

Delilah laughed. “I swear I dream of this song from all the times you play it.”

You replied, “This song is a religious experience. You should be so honored to dream of it.” You took a bite of your Fruity Pebbles.

Delilah joined you at the table as she searched something up on her laptop. “Today’s the bid for the Bulbasaur card I’ve had my eye on. I’m so nervous. I can’t go past eight five dollars so let’s hope my competition is just as cheap as I am.”

You rolled your eyes. “Eighty-five dollars for a trading card? Really?”

Deililah shook her head. “Sixty-five dollars for foundation, y/n? Really?”

You shut your mouth and keep eating your cereal. You and your roommate had your impulses...Well, your passions. Besides, an investment in good foundation only made sense given your profession as a makeup artist.

Delilah scrolled through her phone and frowned. “That’s weird. This looks just like your Hermosa Vida palette.”

That was impossible. You had the only one in existence. Last month, at the cosmetics brand launch for Hermosa Vida, you received a limited edition palette from two of your favorite makeup artists, Sol and Luna, who teamed up for their growing cosmetics empire. They gave you the limited edition trial of the palette before the official palette was released in stores. You were so excited to try it out but misplaced it two weeks ago. You knew you had to clean your room more often.

In fact, you’ve misplaced a lot of things recently: a pair of your favorite My Melody socks, a bracelet from your trip to Jamaica last summer, a pair of your reading glasses, and more. You knew people were bound to lose things but it seemed to happen more often to you. You didn’t think much of it as you were busy applying for your new job.

You stood behind Delilah so you could see the palette on sale for yourself. It was shaped like a clam shell and was rose gold. It even had Sol and Luna’s autographs on the bottom.

Just like yours.

You scanned the description of the product to find the username of the seller: 1026you.

“Wait, I thought I was the only one who owned this palette. It doesn’t make sense. If there was more than one of these palettes in existence, then there would be more on sale. But this one...looks exactly like mine,” you said.

“Maybe it’s a knockoff,” Delilah offered, “You know how people will fabricate anything to get extra cash.”

“The thing is...I lost my palette. It’s almost as if…”

Delilah scoffed. “You don’t think someone broke in and stole it?”

You considered it. “I don’t know, Delilah. I’ve been losing a lot of things lately...I think we should install some cameras in here. Just in case.”

Your roommate nodded. “Fine with me. It’ll make us both feel safer.”

So you and Delilah had cameras installed around the apartment. You hoped your first paycheck with your new gig would come in quickly. You contacted the seller and asked about the palette, asking where they’d bought it and how they had access to it. You asked so you could have some sort of proof that it couldn’t be the same as yours. But it looked exactly like yours. And it bothered you. Unfortunately, there was no response from the seller.

A few days after that, your Siamese cat Totoro disappeared. You weren’t too concerned as Totoro was an outdoor cat and he tended to wander. He would return soon, you thought.

^_^

Meanwhile across your hometown of Los Angeles, international rockstar Nakamoto Yuta stood in his bathroom, dumbfounded to find a portrait of a young woman looking over her shoulder.

Yuta said to himself. “Where the hell did this come from?”

His girlfriend Ashley called from the living room. “What’s that, babe?”

Yuta responded, “Nothing, Ash.” He’d rather not freak out his high-maintenance diva girlfriend.

It was strange how random objects kept popping up in his apartment. He asked Ashley about the palette but she denied it was hers. A bracelet appeared on his nightstand a few weeks ago and Ashley denied again, growing suspicious that Yuta was having someone over. But he didn’t owe any explanations to her.

Yuta always came up short with his security footage. There were glitches with the footage. The objects just...appeared from one frame to the next. This had to be some kind of joke.

Seeing a whole portrait pop up in his bathroom of all places was just part of his daily routine now. Guess I’ve got another thing I have to sell online, he thought.

Then again… He looked carefully at the painting. The woman in the painting was stunning. He wondered what her face looked like in reality. Gorgeous, he was sure of it. The woman wore an oval-shaped ruby necklace. The painting gave him both a sense of comfort and excitement. He couldn’t explain this clearly new but somehow familiar feeling. He decided to hold onto the painting for a while. He could always change his mind.

Ashley let out a blood-curdling scream. “Yuta! Get in here!” She sounded scared for her life. Could it have been the people who managed to break in and leave the painting among all of the other random objects? He ran into the living room to find Ashley standing on his plush couch.

“Is that...a cat?!” Ashley hissed as she looked down at a Siamese cat.

The cat watched her from the ground, swaying his tail back and forth. He simply watched her. When the cat saw Yuta, he walked up to him and rubbed himself against Yuta’s legs as he purred.

Yuta crouched down and pet the cat behind his ears. “Hey there, buddy. How did you get in here?”

“Yuta, you went and bought a cat when you know I’m allergic?” Ashley asked as she sneezed.

Yuta sighed. “I swear to you I have no idea how he got in here.” It was possible he ran in when Yuta opened the sliding glass door to his yard.

“Well...” Ashley sneezed as she grabbed her handbag and stormed out of the multimillion dollar mansion. “You better get rid of that thing if you ever want me to set foot into this house again!”

Ashley slammed the door and Yuta laughed as he sat down on the couch. The cat laid on his lap and pushed his head into Yuta’s hand so that he could pet him.. Yuta brushed his fingers through his fur.

“You know what, I think I’ll keep you.”

^_^

It was your first day of work with the world famous band Skylark. Sky High Entertainment reached out to you when they watched your most popular makeup tutorial. Now, you would be their makeup artist for their future engagements. Your first few weeks would be to assist the band in preparation for their first set of tour dates in Los Angeles for their Heaven on Earth World Tour. You were to meet the group and their team at the Staples Center. You weren’t too familiar with Skylar’s work because you were either fixated on the YouTube MUA community or repeatedly listening to Mountain Man’s music. You arrived early, too excited to start, and the band’s manager Baekhyun Byun told you that you were welcome to watch the group rehearse.

To say that the band was attractive was an understatement. You knew of their names and faces from the occasional Twitter posts. Plus, you had to memorize their names and faces for the job. However, seeing them in person was a whole other experience.

Drummer Johnny Suh’s muscular arms and intensity were reminiscent of Hercules as he twirled one of his drumsticks with ease. Mark Lee was the guitarist, looking like he was about to be cast for the next Spiderman with his sweet and goofy demeanor. He played a random guitar solo with his tongue out to get a reaction out of his cousin Johnny. Dong Sicheng was focused at the keyboard, looking as elegant and regal as a vampire prince. Bassist Jung Jaehyun’s every glance was more seductive than the last as he tuned his bass to perfection.

Last but not least was the frontman with the fuchsia colored mane: Yuta Nakamoto. His walk to the microphone at the center of the stage was unintentionally seductive, considering he was in a black hoodie and sweatpants like the rest of his band. He was at least six feet tall as his long strides made him walk with such grace and elegance. A man that was effortlessly gorgeous was definitely trouble. At this point, your jaw was on the ground. Every man on that stage was a god but Yuta was the frontman for a reason. He was undeniably the cutest of the group. In his all-black attire, he was the emo prince of millions of girl’s dreams: his slender face, his sharp cheekbones, his piercing brown eyes, a smile so bright it could make you go blind, his rockstar piercings which included a navel piercing and caused your thoughts to drift to places that weren’t suitable for the workplace…

From time to time, the band goofed off. Mark made a paper plane from the set list and threw it at Johnny. Jaehyun danced the latest TikTok dance while Sicheng filmed it with his phone. Yuta laughed as he borrowed the keyboard and wrote some notes down in his notebook.

When they got down to business, the boys completely transformed. They channeled angst and heartache when they began rehearsal. You recognized the song as their latest single: “Lost and Found”.

When Yuta sang, goosebumps ran down your back and your stomach twisted. Alarms were ringing in your head but they weren’t out of fear. But out of...excitement? You couldn’t describe this strange sensation.

Yuta transformed into a man who was heartbroken and confused. His voice danced into your ears and hearing it live made the lyrics more meaningful. Every word that left his plump lips lingered in the air. You couldn't get enough and felt your heart squeeze.

Yuta looked out to the audience as he always practiced how he would engage with the crowd. He earned several thumbs up from the staff, as expected. Then he turned to your section and could barely make you out as a silhouette in the darkness.

You saw that he focused on your section as he sang the second verse. Your heart skipped a beat. You’d have to listen to more of Skylark’s music from now on because they were fantastic. And maybe lurk on Yuta’s social media.

After rehearsal ended, Manager Byun introduced you to the rest of the team, including the other makeup artists. He walked you to the dressing room to introduce you to the band. For the first time in years, you were about to freak out like a fangirl.

“Boys, this is y/n. She’s our newest makeup artist. Please, I beg of you, don’t make her run for the hills.” Manager Byun laughed. You hoped he was joking.

The boys greeted you and shook your hand. Johnny was the most outgoing. “Pleasure to meet you, y/n!”

Jaehyun winked at you as he shook your hand. “Hi.”

Winwin gave you a childlike smile. “Thank you for joining us!”

Mark stuttered as he greeted you, “Uh, hi, it’s uh, really nice to meet you.” His cheeks were flushed.

You were overjoyed but knew you had to conceal your excitement. Still, you couldn’t help but hope for Yuta to greet you.

You all turned to Yuta who was busily texting away on his phone in front of his mirror.

Johnny cleared his throat. “Yuta, say hi to y/n.”

Then, you noticed he was wearing his AirPods. Johnny tapped him on the shoulder. Yuta looked up at him. “What? I was on the verge of a breakthrough, and now I won’t get it back. Thanks a lot.” Yuta rolled his eyes and looked back at his phone.

Johnny cleared his throat and you could see his smile twitch from his reflection in the mirror. “Say hi to y/n. She’s our new makeup artist,” Johnny said carefully. He sounded a lot less sweet, then.

Yuta sighed. “Fine.”

He got up from his makeup chair and walked up to you. His sour demeanor quickly shifted to bright and breezy. His megawatt smile appeared as he shook hands with you. “Hi, y/n. Pleasure to meet you.”

It was insincere and you knew it. You didn’t even bother faking a smile. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

It was the smile you’d seen all too often with celebrities and YouTubers whose egos grew faster than their subscriber count. It was the kind of smile they used to please sponsors and fans. A means to an end.

Yuta’s smile faded as quickly as it appeared. He quickly turned away and went back to his chair, put his AirPods in, and returned to his phone. You spoke too soon when you thought Yuta was your favorite member.

Mark whispered, “Don’t take it personally, y/n. Yuta is in his own little world most of the time.”

You weren’t surprised. Chances were one of these boys wasn’t what they seemed. You were disappointed it was Yuta, though.

For the most part, your first day went well. Everyone was warm and welcoming. You shared tips with the other makeup artists. But then, they dropped a bomb.

“You’re assigned to Yuta,” Manager Byun told you as you headed down the elevator. You just came back from a break.

You couldn’t control your initial facial expression.

Manager Byun laughed. “He won’t bite.”

You composed yourself. “Oh, I know…”

He understood. “He’s been working on a lot of projects. Some of which I don’t even know the full details of. So I apologize on his behalf for his rudeness.”

You shook your head. “But Manager Byun-”

He raised his hand. “Please, call me Baekhyun. Manager Byun makes me sound like I’m a father of three.”

You laughed. “Okay. Baekhyun, you don’t have to apologize for him. I get it. He’s a workaholic. I’ll gladly be his makeup artist.” It wasn’t like Yuta insulted you. He just wasn’t what you hoped he would be. Plus, you were there for a job and nothing else. So professionalism was always key.

Baekhyun put his hand on your shoulder. “Thank you, y/n. If he gives you trouble at all, the makeup team will make sure Yuta gets the wrong shade of foundation.”

You and the rest of the makeup team headed back to the dressing room where the boys were sitting in their chairs. They needed to get their makeup done for the filming of their tour diaries entry for this week. Yuta was still glued to technology. This time, he was on his laptop, and he was in the middle of producing a track, it seemed.

You gulped and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, Mr. Naka-” You began.

“Yuta’s fine,” he barked back.

“I have to do your makeup,” you said as you started off with his primer.

“Fine,” he said as he closed his eyes, “Make it quick.”

His tone was even crabbier than this morning. You told yourself to keep it together. You wouldn’t let this diva jeopardize your job. He was a challenge and you would overcome this bastard.

Because Yuta was quiet and as still as a statue, doing his makeup wasn’t a problem. You made sure you were swift but neat. You didn’t want to poke the tiger again. All that was left was his eyeliner. You gave him an elegant winged eyeliner for his left eye. You were halfway done with his right eye when he interrupted.

His voice boomed. “Seriously, what part of ‘quick’ don’t you understand?”

He startled you so much that his liner shot straight up to the middle of his forehead.

You bit back your anger and your tears. You said calmly, “I was almost done, Yuta. If you hadn’t startled me for ten more seconds, I would’ve finished.”

Yuta looked in the mirror, his venomous tone matching the anger in his face. “You clearly lack experience if you let one thing I said get to you. Well? Don’t just stand there. Fix it.”

The rest of the staff and the band stood there, stunned to silence. You swallowed your pride and redid the liner on his right eye. He said nothing when you finished. He left the dressing room first.

You turned to everyone else, feeling humiliated and fearing what everyone would say. “Why is it so quiet?”

“Because you didn’t run for the hills,” Sicheng replied, smiling at you in admiration.

“Huh?” That wasn’t the reaction you’d expected.

Rin, your fellow makeup artist who was working on Jaehyun right beside you, said, “The last makeup artist Lily only lasted a week. Yuta’s been…”

“A stuck up bitch,” Jaehyun finished.

Rin sighed, “His words. Not mine. Before Lily, there was Halle. Halle was Yuta’s makeup artist for three years before she left for another project. Even before Halle left, Yuta was in a mood. No one knows what’s bothering him. He’s not usually-”

“A diva,” Mark added.

Rin applied some setting spray on Jaehyun’s face. “Once again, not my words.”

You worried if you crossed a line by talking back at him like you had. “Was I not supposed to say anything to him when he yelled?”

Everyone laughed. Johnny said, “Are you kidding? We dare you to tell him to stop bitching if he snaps again.”

You thought about it. “I just hope he gets over whatever he’s going through.”

^_^

Days passed and the sixth day of work went just about the same. You were in your element and over the moon with all of the high-end cosmetics at your disposal. Not even your sourpuss of a client could dampen your mood.

During one of your breaks, you sat alone in one of the unoccupied meeting rooms and listened to “Breeze” on your phone as you read some of your emails.

“The breeze made your hair sway. I fell in love that autumn day,” you sang aloud.

Yuta was headed to a meeting with Cartier but at the sound of your voice singing “Breeze”, he froze in his tracks. He pressed his ear against the door of the room you were in. The cracks in your voice were endearing. He smiled to himself.

He peaked through the window and hoped you didn’t notice him. You were seated at the table. Your legs were propped against one of the other swivel chairs. You tapped your fingers against the table. You smiled as you sang. Your smile was lovely. Your eyes were so full of joy and passion as you recited the lyrics, and for the first time, he actually looked at you and took in your features. Your singing voice wasn’t as calm and soothing as your speaking voice, but he still enjoyed hearing you. For the first time in a long time, he felt..something.

Seeing you smile that way made you the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, he realized.

He couldn’t believe how much you loved his song. “Breeze” wasn’t doing as well as he hoped. The company CEO thought about scrapping his anonymous side project all together. He didn’t understand. Had he released the song with Skylark or under his own name would “Breeze” have charted better? It pissed him off. He was so proud of his composition. It was the first time he let himself be so raw and vulnerable. Because he wanted this project to be anonymous, he chose not to tell his bandmates or anyone else, really. The couple of staff members who did know were sworn to secrecy. It killed him that he couldn’t vent to anyone.

When the song ended, you said to yourself, “Oh, let’s just play this on a loop.” You played “Breeze” again and stretched your arms.

Seeing you love the song as much as he did made the dark cloud that loomed over his head fade a little. Perhaps he had been too harsh on you, he thought.

^_^

A few more days pass and you and Yuta seem to be getting closer. He’d actually put his phone down when you did his makeup, watching you as you patted his foundation in. For you, it was strange, but for Yuta he was mesmerized.

“I’m bored..let’s play 20 questions.” Yuta said as you spritzed his face with primer water one day.

“Uhhh..okay.” Your brows furrowed.

“Favorite movie, go.” Yuta asked before closing his eyes.

“Uhhh. Titanic?”

“Ew. Okay favorite group?” He smirked.

“Well..it’s not Skylark..” You huffed.

Yuta took in a sharp breath and held your wrist to stop you. “It’s NOT Skylark? Then who is it, who is worthy?” His eyes were intense, like you hurt him deeply.

“Hmmm...One Direction.” You were just messing with him, but you wanted to see his reaction.

He rolled his eyes and let go, leaning back in his chair and rolling his neck. “You can’t be serious...”

“What? They make good music! And isn't it my turn to ask questions now?”

“Shoot.” Yuta closed his eyes so you could do his eye shadow.

“Hmmm..what’s your favorite color?” You started.

“The color of your eyes...”

You froze for a moment, but then chuckled. “Yuta..seriously?”

Yuta’s eyes opened as he laughed. “I’m serious! They’re beautiful.”

You pouted. “I’m done playing this game if you’re gonna mess with me.”

“Are you going to ruin my eyeliner again because you don’t like my compliment?” He let out in a faux British accent and high pitched tone to mimic the queen. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head.

Yuta smiles widely when he hears your angelic laugh, your eyes crinkling and your cheeks becoming so round and full.

What was this new feeling that he had?

^_^

You’d be working with Skylark for a month now and you were enjoying your time with the team. However, it was pouring for the first time in a month in LA. While you would’ve been happy about it in any other circumstance, you were annoyed and on the verge of freaking out. Your second bus was running late to take you to the arena. You decided not to wait for the bus and make a run for it.

Your umbrella was helpful to a certain extent but you were drenched regardless. The rain continued to pour unforgivingly. When you were preparing to cross the street, a black Mercedes pulled up beside you. The passenger window came down and you recognized Yuta.

He was sitting there, looking amazing as usual. Only this time, his long, neon pink hair was thrown into a bun and he modeled a pair of heart-shaped, fuchsia colored sunglasses to match.

The way he held the wheel with one hand made your heart shudder for some reason.

“Get in!” He said.

You hesitated for a second. However, dryer clothes outweighed your pride at this moment. You hopped in, closed your umbrella, and shut the door.

Yuta grabbed your umbrella and put it in the backseat. “You’re soaked. I’m going to turn up the heat on your seat.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

Yuta drove you to work. He was surprised he could recognize you through the pouring rain. He had this inexplicable anxiety when he was at the red light before he saw you. He couldn’t explain it. He was doing okay for the most part. His last song for his first self-titled mini album was almost complete. Ashley was a pain but their respective managers were working towards a day when they could announce their breakup. His band was at the top of their game. His new cat was keeping Ashley away.

So what was this feeling that came out of nowhere?

And how did the feeling disappear just as quickly when you looked him in the eyes?

“Thanks for the ride,” you piped up.

Yuta cleared his throat, feeling shy all of a sudden. Very unlike him. “We’re both headed the same way.” That was Yuta’s attempt at sounding cool. He didn’t realize it could make him sound like a tool, you thought.

There was an awkward silence that suffocated you both. The traffic was unbearable so it looked like you would both be late for work.

Yuta blurted, “I don’t think I’ve said this before but...I’m sorry..”

You turned to him as he stared straight ahead. You were shocked that he was apologizing. You figured this man never apologized for anything, especially when he carried on with you at work like he hadn’t snapped at you on your first day. “Are you?”

He sighed as he slowed down. “Yes. I was a jerk and you were just doing your job. I really have no excuse.”

You replied, “Well, as long as you’re aware. Do you promise to keep the sass to a minimum? Or at least until after I’m done with your makeup?”

Yuta nodded. “Yes, I promise.”

You noted how down Yuta looked. Beneath the hostility and sarcasm, there was frustration and sadness. “I forgive you.”

Yuta smiled. “Thank you.”

Another awkward silence followed. And the rain poured down even harder so Yuta drove even slower. He turned up the radio and you both recognized “Breeze”.

You both sat back and listened to the song in silence. Without you realizing, Yuta snuck glances at you as you hummed and bobbed your head to the beat of the song.

“I love this song,” you blurted.

Yuta smirked. “Yeah, it’s great, isn’t it?”

“I would give anything to meet Mountain Man. His music is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. No one knows who he is. His identity is top secret,” you sulk.

Yuta beamed with pride that someone could be a fan of his mysterious persona. Without knowing his face or his true identity. It truly made him feel special.

Yuta bit back a laugh. “I know who he is, actually.” He wondered if he would regret telling you this.

You looked at him in shock. “What?”

“I can introduce him to you if you’d like but you have to promise me one thing.” Yuta was elated to see you so thrilled.

“Wait, really?!” You exclaimed as you unconsciously moved closer to him. “You’re not messing with me, are you?”

Yuta shook his head as he finally turned into the arena parking lot. “When we break for lunch, I’ll take you to him. I’ll call him over.” You gaped. “Oh, you don’t have to. He must be so busy. He doesn’t have time to meet me. I-”

Yuta felt a flash of jealousy over your consideration for someone whose face you didn’t even know (even if it was his other persona). “He won’t mind, I promise. Now promise me one thing when I introduce you.”

“What is it?” You asked cautiously.

Yuta put his car in park. “Promise me you’re free tonight. I need to go over some looks for my concept photos next week. I know it’s after work but I’ll buy dinner.”

Yuta did a full 180 on his personality. You were still recovering from the whiplash. And now he was doing you favors and confiding in you? You were on the fence but if you could meet Mountain Man, surely it would be worth it.

^_^

When it was lunch time, Yuta took you to the conference room. “Take a seat, y/n. Mountain Man just texted me. I’ll bring him in.”

You sat down in your unofficial swivel chair and fought the urge to pick at your nails. You were so nervous. To be in the presence of such talent. To be in the presence of the man who touched your heart with a three minute and fifty five second song. You had no idea what to expect.

Yuta came back quickly. With no one. He looked at you expectantly.

You got up to check if anyone was behind Yuta. “Uh, Yuta?”

���Uh huh?” He asked.

“Where’s Mountain Man?” You frowned.

He threw his arms up. “You’re looking at him.”

You got up from your chair and wrapped your arms around your chest in frustration. “Come on.”

Yuta was shocked at your reaction. “You don’t believe me?”

You shook your head. How can such a high-profile celebrity be an anonymous artist?

Yuta rolled his eyes. “Wow, you’re really making a guy work here, aren’t you?”

“I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t you just release your music with Skylark or under your real name? Why the anonymity?” You asked as you went back to your chair and collected your belongings to leave.

“Wait, don’t go,” Yuta pleaded, “I can prove it.”

He offered his notebook to you with lyrics that dated back two years.

“This is your lyric book?” You asked.

Yuta nodded as you flipped through the pages. “Songs I’ve written for Skylark. Songs I’ve written for my solo mini. And songs I’ve written for Mountain Man.”

You sat down and carefully absorbed all of the contests inside. You went to the first pages of the notebook and found the early drafts of “Breeze”, which dated back to a year ago. And right after those lyrics, there were the lyrics for Skylark’s Grammy-nominated song, “Hope and Flame”.

You looked up at him. “You…”

“Yeah,” he said as he put his hands in his pockets. “If you’re not convinced, I’ll take you to the studio and show you how I’ve used a voice modifier. Plus, you’re looking at lyrics of songs that won’t be released until next year. So if you’re willing to wait until then to see your proof, well…”

Well, he hoped those songs would be released next year. He prayed you would believe him.

You choked. “I...believe you.”

Yuta exclaimed. “Really?”

Yuta was acting very childlike today, you observed. You thought it was kind of cute. He may have dropped one of the biggest secrets in the industry but he was still your moody client.

“I can’t believe…you’re Mountain Man…”

Yuta sat down beside you. “You owe me.”

“After you introduced me to...you?” You laughed in disbelief.

He nodded. “You said you would give anything to meet me.” He was smug as he gave you a knowing look.

You scoffed. “I didn’t think you’d use it against me.”

He replied as he leaned back on the chair. “I’m not. I just thought I might impress you.”

“And why would you want to do that?” You teased.

He leaned closer and shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. I guess I just wanted to.”

You blushed at his proximity and quickly turned away. “There you go again with the teasing.”

Yuta smiled wide. “So what do you want for dinner? Pizza or Chinese?”

^_^

You helped Yuta explore a few looks for his upcoming photoshoot before dinner that night.

You were adding some final touches to his heart-shaped lips. “Your lips are so pretty,” you said without realizing.

Yuta knew to hold still but his eyes opened at hearing you say that. You were so caught up in making up his face that you didn’t realize you were thinking out loud. Yuta chose not to bother you. He owed you that much.

“Okay, I’m done,” you said, “I gave you a more understated look. More neutral tones in your eyeshadow and highlighter. And I chose a brighter shade of pink for your lips. I get more of a romantic vibe from this look,” you said as you looked at his reflection in the makeup mirror.

Yuta looked straight at you. “I love it.” He was impressed with your careful attention to detail and how natural you made his makeup look. Out of all the makeup artists and stylists he’d worked with, you were the most attentive and cooperative. You always surpassed his vision for his look. You asked him for his opinions in case you needed to change anything. Most of the time, though, he was very satisfied with your work on the first go. You were the best makeup artist he’d worked with, he had to admit.

“You don’t want more eyeliner? What were you thinking with your piercings?” You asked.

He shook his head. “It’s perfect, y/n. Every look you showed me is perfect for the shoot. I just need you to be by my side when it starts. No one else touches this face but you.” Yuta explained with no trace of mockery in his voice.

Yuta was so open with you all of a sudden and all you did was breathe. How was that possible? And you felt a little more intimidated now that you knew that Yuta was behind your favorite artist. You remembered that first and foremost you were his makeup artist so you shoved your confused feelings aside. You would panic when you got home.

Blushing and still processing, you said, “Thank.”

“You?” He finished for you.

You blushed even harder. “Yeah.”

He laughed as you tried to compose yourself.

You removed his makeup so his skin could get a break. “What’s next?”

Yuta sighed. “We’re done, y/n. Let’s order something and I’ll drive you home. It’s late.”

You cleaned up your supplies while Yuta ordered pizza. You both liked extra Mozzarella cheese on top.

“So,” you said, “Can I ask you something?” You’ve been dying to ask him questions for hours but you’ve done so well to hold it in. You figured you’d indulge by asking at least one.

“Yeah?” Yuta sat up straight.

“Did you compose all of Mountain Man’s releases?”

He nodded.

“What instruments do you play?” You dared to ask one more question.

“Guitar, piano, drums, violin,” he said as he got up and grabbed his guitar from his case. “Thanks for reminding me. I have a melody stuck in my head, and I want to see if I can make something out of it.”

Yuta tuned his guitar and hummed to himself. He played a few chords.

“Whoa,” you said. “Just like that?”

He chuckled in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You can make something so incredible and unique in an instant?” You asked, clearly in awe.

He shook his head. “I could only get to this point because I practiced every single day in grade school.”

You heard how lonely he sounded, then. “That must have been…”

“A pain in my ass, yeah. I gave up many trips to Chuck E. Cheese just so I could master the piano,” he grumbled.

“And you never gave up on practicing?” You asked, impressed. Had it been you you would’ve given up and found the next hobby.

“My parents pushed me hard from a young age,” he started, “They wanted me to become a world classical musician. Family honor and all.”

“What changed, though? Skylark isn’t exactly classical,” you observed.

Yuta replied, “I didn’t tell my parents but I started a rock band when I was sixteen. Johnny and Jaehyun have been by my side from the very beginning. We rehearsed in Johnny’s garage until we graduated.”

You grinned, just thinking about teenage Yuta rebelling against his family’s wishes. “That’s sweet.”

He laughed. “Yeah, Johnny and Jaehyun claimed they joined to meet girls but I knew they loved music just as much as I did. Johnny’s cousin Mark and Mark’s best friend Sicheng joined us a few months later and we were a force of nature. That was our first band name, by the way.”

You bit back a laugh. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Force of Nature,” Yuta replied, deadpan. “What’s so funny, y/n?”

You laughed, almost falling over in your seat. “That is so cute. You guys thought you were being edgy.”

Yuta grabbed a throw pillow and threw it at you. “I won’t tolerate mockery from the staff.”

You gasped. “I won’t tolerate a DICKtator.” You grabbed another pillow and threw it at him.

You both laughed so hard. Yuta grabbed an eyeliner pencil you forgot to pack up.

“You know, y/n,” Yuta started as he moved closer to you. “You’re alright.” He took your hand and slipped the eyeliner into it.

“You, too, Nakamoto,” you said, “You’re still paying for the pizza, though.”

Time passed as you two talked about your childhoods, your hobbies, and all about Skylark and Mountain Man.

“Man, what I wouldn’t give to go back in time and learn the guitar,” you said as Yuta mindlessly strummed his guitar and produced heavenly melodies.

Yuta innocently offered, “I can teach you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “In exchange for?”

He laughed warmly. “Nothing. Come over here and sit down.” He patted the seat next to him on the couch so you could join him.

You sat down and he placed his acoustic guitar over you. He moved closer to you, moving his arms over you. You could feel his chest against your back. He radiated warmth and your throat almost went dry.

Yuta took your left hand. “Now...you’re going to place your fingers up here. These are called the frets. I already tuned the guitar, okay?” His voice was very close to your ear and for a moment, you held your breath.

He took your right hand and placed it on the body of the guitar. “Let’s try an A chord.” His deep voice lowered even more and you felt your face heat up.

He took your left fingers and adjusted their positions. Never letting go of your hands, he instructed you to strum the guitar.

The chord sounded more beautiful than you’d expected it to be. “Whoa.”

“Nice,” Yuta said, “Then again, I did most of the work.”

You turned your head to him and his face was mere centimeters away from yours. “You are so-”

Yuta moved even closer. “Finish your sentence, y/n. I’m dying to hear what you have to say.”

You retreated. “Irritating.”

Yuta’s phone rang. The pizza arrived and you two fought over the last slice.  He was ridiculous, considering he ate four slices to your three. It was only fair you’d eat the last slice. Yuta got creative and used a plastic knife to cut the last slice in half. You accepted but you were determined to get your revenge.

Yuta drove you home. The night was calm, and the traffic was light.

“You live pretty far if you’re walking to the arena for work, y/n,” Yuta said as he pulled up in front of your building.

“I take two buses. Normally, it’s not a problem. It was complicated today because of the rain,” you said.

“Yeah, I thought we were going to get a massive flood,” he said, “It’s very unlike LA.”

You nodded as you took off your seatbelt. “Well, thanks for the ride.”

Yuta smiled and tipped his imaginary hat. “Thank you for your help tonight.” His smile was at its most radiant, then.

^_^

You wake up the next morning thankful for the weekend but a little sad that…Wait a minute.

You didn’t miss Yuta, you told yourself. The boy gave you whiplash and you were only beginning to get to know him. You had time to do some cleaning around the apartment. Maybe you could find a lot of your missing stuff so you could put that eBay account out of your mind.

It was already 2 PM and you couldn’t find the palette, your primary concern. You sighed. You looked around your spotless room and found some solace in the fact that it was clean and organized. Tidying up was its own therapy.

You called your mom and asked her about her day. You went through your jewelry box.

Your mom chattered on, excited like a schoolgirl, “Anyways y/n, Fred wanted to take me to a costume party tonight so I wanted to know...Do you think the black flapper dress would be better than the mod dress?” Fred was her serious boyfriend of three years. You had a feeling that he would propose anytime now and you were happy for them.

That good feeling quickly dissipated. “Oh, no.” Your most prized possession was missing. You knew it was missing because you always kept it in your jewelry box.

“y/n? Honey, are you okay?” Your mom asked over the line.

You couldn’t tell your mom that your grandmother’s ruby necklace was missing. “Yeah, sorry mom, it’s nothing. I got a little dramatic. Ran out of whipped cream for my sundae.” You lied.

You finished your conversation with your mom. You had no choice but to log onto eBay again. You searched 1026you and your suspicions were confirmed.

Your grandmother’s one-of-a-kind family heirloom was for sale. For one hundred dollars. It was a priceless heirloom that was worth at least ten times as much. You clenched your fists. “Son of a bitch.”

You messaged the seller again but knew he would never answer you. He’s ignored your other messages so what made you think he would respond to this one? You read through the site’s terms and conditions and there was no way to contest that the item was yours. You noticed that the item was up for bid and the bid would end in…

Ten minutes.

The current bid was at $100.

You scoffed. “Why the hell do I have to bid on an item that’s mine?”

You swallowed your pride and prayed that no one else would bid higher.

You placed a bid for $101.

Right away, someone else bid higher. $102.

This went on and on until your competition outbid you and won the necklace for $127.

“Son of a bitch!” You cursed again.

You sent 1026you ten consecutive messages telling them that they stole your necklace and begged them to respond as soon as possible. You knew it was hopeless.

^_^

You knocked on Yangyang’s door. He lived a few doors down from you and Delilah. You used to babysit him when you were in high school and college. Yangyang was a child prodigy, having graduated from MIT with a master’s in computer science at age sixteen. His parents still needed you to babysit when he was acing Physics at age ten. He always insisted he didn’t need a babysitter but you two developed a bond. It was to both of your surprise that he became your neighbor. He had a side hustle as a hacker. You hoped he could help you track down 1026you so you can give him a piece of your mind.

He opened the door. “y/n, what’s up?” He smiled wide. He still had that boyish wonder in his eyes.

“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting,” you started.

“Not at all, come in,” he moved to the side so you could walk into his messy apartment. Video games were scattered all over his living room floor. He was in the middle of eating a bowl of ramen.

“Yangyang, I know I’ve been relieved from my babysitting duties for a while now but...ramen is not a proper meal,” you said.

“Shut up.” Yangyang laughed. “I’ll grill some meat later. Don’t worry.”

You laughed as you sat at his kitchen table. He gave you a can of Pepsi, knowing it was your favorite. “I need a favor, actually.”

Yangyang rejoiced. “At long last, you need my help. Never thought the day would come. You never let me help you with precalculus, even though you definitely needed it.”

Ignoring his roast for once, you responded, “Well...I need your hacking expertise. I know that this is going to sound crazy but...someone has been stealing things from my apartment and selling them online.”

Yangyang’s smile faded. “What the hell? So that’s why you installed security cameras at your place.”

“I didn’t get into it because I thought I was crazy but my grandmother’s necklace is missing and it’s one of a kind. And now…” You showed him the item that was sold.

“That’s your necklace,” Yangyang replied in shock. He recognized it from having known you for so long. You wore it on rare occasions like birthday parties. You preferred not to be photographed with it because you wanted to preserve it and keep it secret from strangers and acquaintances. You never knew who you could trust.

“Can you help me track down the seller?”

“y/n, that goes against eBay’s terms and conditions,” he replied.

You sighed. “I know but-”

Yangyang chuckled mischievously. “This should be fun.”

Yangyang worked magic on his computer to track down 1026you’s location. He was in Los Angeles, to your surprise. “Can’t get you the seller’s name but will an address do?”

“It’s perfect,” you said.

^_^

Yuta woke up from a nap on the couch. Totoro was sleeping on his stomach. He chuckled as he pet him. Yuta’s phone rang, indicating a notification. He checked his phone and saw that the ruby necklace he put on sale was sold to the highest bidder at the deadline. He also saw a bunch of messages from one account claiming he stole the necklace and he’d better respond to her.

“Crazy,” Yuta said as he ignored the messages.

^_^

“What do you think I should use for today’s luxurious bath, Totoro? The  ‘Cotton Candy’ bath bomb or the ‘Madly In Love’ bath bomb?” Yuta carefully picked Totoro up from his lap and placed him on the cold marble floor before standing up and stretching.

Totoro let out a loud “meow” and walked away from Yuta.

“I completely agree.”

Yuta threw his shirt off and headed to his bathroom, but he jumped once he opened the door. He had completely forgotten about the beautiful portrait that leaned against the counter. He stopped and tilted his head, really taking in the depth of color in the painting. He gazed at the stunning profile of the woman and the necklace she had on. He couldn’t understand how he had this undying urge to remember a memory he never had, to remember the moment he met this strange woman from the portrait.

He shook his head and started to run water for his bath, oblivious to the eyes that watched him through the small opening of the door.

^_^

You watched a shirtless Yuta stare at something for a few seconds. You couldn’t see what it was, but you really didn’t care, for Yuta’s abs were the real star of the show. Your mouth fell open, your heart started to race. Yuta was perfect in every way, and the twinkling piercing in his navel was the cherry on top.

But...wait.

You had to remember why you were here. Yangyang’s research found that this was the address of the person that was selling your precious necklace so you had to work fast. You already got lucky when you found a window in a first floor bedroom that was open.

You were shocked to see that it was Yuta’s house that you would have to break into, but once again, you just had to get your priceless possession.

Was Yuta messing with you? How could he do this and when could he do this? When would he have had time to sneak into your place and steal your necklace? Or was it his girlfriend?

Yuta shook his head before turning it to the side slightly. You jumped out of sight by moving to the side quickly. He interrupted your thoughts, but you had to get moving before he got out of the shower.

You looked around his enormous mansion, heading for what seemed to be his bedroom, for it was the biggest one at the top of the grand staircase.

Surely, there had to be an explanation for how your possession became his possession. Nonetheless, you were pissed that he decided to ignore your message and proceed to sell it. How could he steal something so meaningful to you then sell it? It’s not like he needed the money.

You looked on top of the California King-sized bed and then under it to see if you could just catch a glimpse of the shimmering ruby stone. But you found nothing. You then looked at his black dresser before stopping to gaze at his extensive earring collection. It was incredible.

A case full of hundreds if not thousands of earrings and jewelry stood beside the dresser. Your mouth fell open and your eyes widened. What if he stole jewelry? No-no, you shook your head at the absurd thought. This man had way too much money.

Then you heard him singing in the bathroom beside his bedroom. But his voice grew louder as he exited and entered the hallway to make his way to his room.

“Shit,” you whispered.

Your heart started to race. You're just moments from being caught so you look back to the dresser and spot it.

Your necklace.

It’s next to the small brown bag that it would have been sent in today, but you grabbed it just in the nick of time.

“BABAY!! Why DON’T YOU JUST MEET ME IN THE MIDDLEEE??” Yuta sang in the hallway and thanks to his boastful voice and the large ceilings that allowed for a beautiful echo, you heard him when he was just about to enter. You quickly dropped to the floor and rolled under the bed.

You covered your mouth to muffle your heavy breathing. He was pacing about, walking to and from his closet.

“Nah, don’t like this…” he threw a flannel onto the bed. He went into his closet and grabbed a black T-shirt, the 56th black T-shirt in his collection, to be exact.

“Nice.” Yuta continued to hum while spritzing on some cologne.

Yuta smelled amazing, like vanilla and roses, but you couldn’t help but be worried that you would be late for work if you couldn’t get out of his house right NOW.

“Hey, babe..” You heard a female voice say. It was his girlfriend. “Damn it,” you mouthed. Ashley was known for being one of the most gorgeous celebrities alive today. She had the perfect face with a dazzling smile to match, but rumor had it that she was a complete bitch behind closed doors.

You heard Yuta sigh and you could almost feel his eye roll. He was thinking of how much he hated himself for ever giving her a key to his house.

“What’s up, Ash?” He spoke to her like he was being forced to communicate with an Uber driver.

“Oh, don’t sound so excited to see me…” Ashley responded. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Yuta was fixing his earrings onto his ears when she embraced him. He looked at her through the mirror in front of them and gave a look of annoyance when she tilted her head to lock eyes with him.

“So...where were you yesterday? You missed our dinner date at the Venetian...Do you know how much it cost me to lose that reservation AND call off the paps?”

“I’m sure you can afford it.” Yuta walked away from her and looked at the dresser with a puzzled expression. Something’s missing, he thought.

You watched Yuta’s footsteps as he hesitated for a moment, but then he continued on into his closet.

Your eyes grew. Did Yuta really blow off his date at the most expensive restaurant in the city to be with you? He ditched $1,000 caviar and steak just to eat $12 pizza with you?

“You really like making me beg, don’t you, Mr. Nakamoto?” Her voice lowered as she leaned against the dresser and watched Yuta put his socks on.

“Where were you, daddy?”

Yuta hesitated for a moment. He didn’t like the fact that she thought he had to report his movements to her. She acted like she had to know everything that went on in his life. She was overstepping and Yuta wasn’t about to fall for it.

So he decided to piss her off.

“I was with..the new girl.”

Ashley stood up straight and crossed her arms. You nearly yelped out under the bed and revealed yourself.

“Who’s the ‘new girl’?” Ashley asked and you could just hear the fire in her tone. Even Charizard would be jealous.

“The new makeup artist..she’s sweet, I bought us food and we talked.” Yuta smirked and walked closer to Ashley who didn’t even try to hide her jealousy. Her perfectly plucked brows furrowed.

“I taught her how to play the guitar...she’s lovely, really. We had a great time.” Yuta was definitely twisting the knife and you couldn’t tell if he spoke of you fondly just to piss her off, or if he genuinely meant it. Either way, his words filled your chest with butterflies, and a smile tugged at your lips.

“Yuta...baby, you missed our date at THE Venetian to spend it with some talentless random who probably has a failing Youtube channel?” Ashley pouted. “Let me show you what’s lovely, Mr. Nakamoto.”

Yuta was about to protest, but Ashley held his chin and tilted it down towards her before placing a kiss on his lips.

The sound echoed in the large room and made you roll your eyes. She insulted you without having met you? What a bitch, you thought. No wonder Yuta was miserable.

She then took his hand and led him to the bed, pushing his chest lightly so he’d sit on the soft surface. She dropped to her knees and ran her hands along his thighs.

Oh no...please don’t do what I think you’re about to do. You squeezed your eyes tightly and prayed that Yuta would tell her to wait until later.

Yuta huffed and puffed but indulged her, allowing her to have her way because he just couldn’t be bothered. She unbuckled his belt while looking into his low eyes.

“You’re stressed, baby, that’s why you spent time with a total stranger. But don’t forget you have me.” Ashley licked her lips before taking his pant zipper in between her teeth and dragging it down.

“I can’t wait to taste you, Mr. Nakamoto.” Ashley kissed his pelvis. She was too busy to see Yuta cringe at the name she called him. God, did it feel weird.

“Just...m-make it quick. I have to go.” Yuta licked his lips, letting his head fall back as he closed his eyes in anticipation.

Shit. You mouthed again. You were about to hear the most disturbing sounds of your life and there was nothing you could do, nowhere that you could go. Could you sneak out on the other side without them noticing? Shit shit shit shit.

Ashley sneezed before she could place her mouth on Yuta again.

Yuta looked down in annoyance.

She quickly swiped at her nose then retook her position.

She puckered her lips to lay a kiss on his growing bulge, but she sneezed again.

Several more sneezes followed and Yuta was getting frustrated. He slowly became turned off.

“Damn it, do you still have that ugly cat? I’m suffering here!” She yelled before laying out four back-to-back sneezes.

“So am I.. I gotta go, Ashley.” Yuta rolled his eyes and stood up. He brushed past her, where she still knelt on the floor, and walked towards the dresser.

“Make yourself useful and mail this-” Yuta’s sentence trailed when he didn't see the necklace. The brown envelope was there but the necklace was no longer beside it. “What the hell, I could’ve sworn...”

He looked into the brown bag then onto the floor and the rest of the dresser. Sure enough, the necklace was gone. “So it disappears just as quickly as it appeared? Shit.”

Your brows furrowed. What did he mean by “appeared?”

“Have you seen-?” Yuta was about to ask.

But suddenly, your phone started to vibrate in your back pocket. You quickly reached towards it to silence it so it would no longer make that grinding sound while shaking on the floor.

Luckily, Ashley was still sneezing so it covered up the sound..or so you thought.

“What was that?” Yuta turned and looked about the room for the source of the sound.

Ashley finally stood up and walked towards him. “I’ll just drive with you to work! We can finish what we started...” She gave him a wink before sniffling.

Yuta grimaced and grabbed his keys, brushing past her once again to head out the door.. “Whatever you say, Ash.”

Ashley practically skipped behind him. Finally, the room was empty. You swiftly dragged yourself from under the bed and stood up.

You heard them argue downstairs so you decided that you would climb out from the patio attached to Yuta’s room. Yangyang made sure to deactivate Yuta’s entire security system, including his cameras, so you could enter and leave without detection.

You took a deep breath before jumping from the porch and into the bushes below it. You tried not to scream as loudly as you wanted to. How you didn’t break your legs, you weren’t sure, but you were somehow able to leap back onto your feet and book it for the main road, sliding through the gate while Yuta and his girlfriend waited for the garage door to open so they could drive out.

By the time you got to work, you were covered in sweat, leaves, and dirt. You smelled and looked like you had been camping for at least 23 days in the Appalachian mountains, but it didn’t matter. You finally had your necklace.

“You good, y/n?” Manager Byun gave you a puzzled expression as you hurriedly took your tools out of your kit and placed them on the vanity for Yuta. You were somehow able to get there just minutes before him.

“I’m okay! Had a slightly...difficult time getting here, but I’m ready!” You gave him a smile so forced, you thought your face would be stuck like that forever.

He nodded slowly but still looked confused.

Just then, Yuta entered. His smile was bright and so beautiful. You melted like chocolate in his sunny smile when his eyes were glued to yours as he entered.

But your feelings of admiration soon dissipated when you saw his girlfriend behind him. She held up a compact mirror and was fixing her lipstick as she walked in.

I guess they did finish what they started...

Your smile fell. You didn’t know why you were sad and disappointed. It’s not like your one night with Yuta actually meant anything. He had a girlfriend, and not just any girlfriend. A celebrity girlfriend that was just listed as the person with the second most beautiful face in the world, behind Zendaya of course. Yuta was lucky, there’s no way he’d drop her for you.

You looked away as he walked over. He could feel a shift in your mood immediately. Your eyes were so big and bright when he entered and now you shifted your focus to organizing your makeup and covering a look of sadness that he could clearly see.

Yuta said ‘hi’ to everyone but stepped quickly over to you.

“Hey...y/n...it's nice to see you again.” Yuta gave you a half smile that really tugged at your heartstrings. How could he manage to make you so weak?

“Hey, Yuta.” You gave a short answer, and he could tell you were upset. You weren't nearly as cheerful as you were yesterday. Then..he noticed how disheveled you were.

His face became serious. He touched your arm and it felt like sparks dancing along your skin.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly while the other members and the manager went about their business.

You tried to avoid his magnetic gaze, but couldn't.

Your mouth opened as you looked into his eyes. “I’m-”

“Hi! Nice to meet you, are you the new makeup girl?” Ashley pushed herself in between you and Yuta and obnoxiously smiled in your face to push you further away from Yuta.

“Yes.” You pucker your lips and glance at Yuta who looked beyond annoyed.

“Well, you certainly don’t look like a makeup artist..” Ashley chuckled.

You scoffed. “What?”

“I mean, look at your nails.. Are you sure you want to touch my boyfriend's perfect face when you’ve got an entire ecosystem under your nail bed?” She grabbed your hand without warning and held it up for both you and Yuta to see the dirt that had gotten under your nails when you had jumped off of his patio and held on to the ground for support. You were running late so you didn’t get a chance to go to the restroom to clean up, but of course you would wash your hands before touching his face.

“I-” you started, but she interrupted you once again.

“That’s not very professional of you...”

“Ashley! Stop, don’t you have a photo shoot to get to?” Yuta took your hand from her and lowered it to your side, but he didn’t let it go. He stood beside you and looked onto Ashley with disappointment. Your heart became warm as he squeezed your hand to let you know that he had your back.

Ashley chuckled. “People come and go pretty fast here sweetie..let’s see how long you last.” She rolled her eyes before pushing herself in between the two of you, breaking off your linked hands in the process. How could someone so beautiful also be so ugly?

“I’m so sorry about her.” Yuta turned to you.

You nodded. “She’s right. It's very unprofessional of me to come to work like this.”

Yuta shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, y/n. Things happen..Let me show you where the shower is.”

^_^

Yuta led you to the locker room where the shower was. He handed you a tshirt and sweatpants that he had asked the manager to keep in a locker for him just in case he needed to change after sweating too much.

“Why are you dating someone so...mean?” You asked while you followed Yuta. You didn’t think twice about your question, and really, you had no right to ask him. He was just your client, not your friend.

Yuta chuckled. He turned to you and raised his eyebrows. “I smell some jealousy.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, she’s pretty or whatever, but trust me I am not jealous. I just don’t understand how you could be with someone like that..”

“I’m not a saint either, y/n..we’re perfect for each other..or at least our agencies think so.” Yuta paused. He wondered if he should let you in on yet another secret, but he didn’t notice that his eyes had trailed to your lips, adoring the way they formed a small pout.

You laughed. “You have a point, you weren’t exactly the nicest to me when I first started working for you...”

Yuta grinned when he saw your bright smile and your doe eyes as you laughed again. You were like a breath of fresh air, unlike anyone he’d ever seen. His spirit was instantly drawn to you, for you calmed him. You were just a stranger yet you felt like home.

“I’ll make it up to you...How about I teach you more about the guitar after the shoot?” He stepped closer, anxiously awaiting your approval like a boy that just asked his crush to prom.

You started to blush, his face was so close to yours, you had to look into his eyes.

You took in a sharp breath. “Are you sure your girlfriend will be okay with that? I don’t want you to stand her up again, she’ll probably stab me with an eyeliner pencil.”

“Again?” Yuta’s brows bunched together, but he still gave a teasing smile.

sHIT.

“O-oh i mean, surely you’ve stood her up at some point, right? She’s a total b-”

Yuta burst out into laughter.

You looked at him with worry on your face. “W-what did I do?”

“You’re adorable, but I just can’t take it anymore.” Yuta reached his hand out to the side of your face and gently removed a long vine that was tangled in your hair. He then removed a large, green leaf that stuck out of your disheveled do.

He calmed down. “There we go..much better. Even nature loves your beautiful face.”

Beautiful face.

Your heart began to race for the third time in one day. Too much was happening, you thought you would pass out. Did Yuta really just say that you were beautiful?

He cleared his throat when he realized that the words he was thinking actually came out while the two of you stood awkwardly in the locker room.

“Yuta?”

He smiled, just the sound of you saying his name made him weak for some reason, what was happening to him?

“What?”

“You’re staring..” you chuckled.

“I’m getting inspired.” he gazed at your eyes then your lips as he spoke in a softer tone.

“By what?” You tilted your head.

“By you.”

“Mountain Man, you really have a way with words, I bet you say that to all your groupies.” You rolled your eyes and brushed past him, walking towards the shower.

He spun around and grabbed your hand. Your breath hitched when you turned to look at him, his full lips parted and eyes begging for something.

“I...have to tell you something..”

He looked so serious for once.

“Ashley and I are in a fake relationship. It’s all a publicity stunt that our labels set up. I don’t love her...But I’m telling you because I feel like..I can really talk to you.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised, Yuta.” you gave a small smile. “I’m just your makeup artist, but if you want to talk to me, I don’t see why not. You’ve already told me two major secrets.”

Yuta laughed out at your response, a strand of his beautiful fuchsia hair falling into his forehead, making him look even more handsome than he did before.

He stepped closer.

“Wash up quickly, for me..the shoot starts soon.”

Yuta winked and walked away leaving you a blushing mess.

“Also, remember we have a guitar lesson later.”

For me.

Why did he have to say it like that? Wait, why were you even affected by that? Could your heart calm down when you were around him for more than five seconds?

^_^

You walked into the dressing room in your new comfy outfit and headed straight for your section. The sweatpants Yuta gave you didn’t have pockets, so you had to wear the necklace around your neck. You tucked it under your shirt to make sure that no one would see it on you.

“Wow, I wish I was wearing that instead of leather pants right now...” Johnny pouted when he saw you in Yuta’s Nike sweats.

“You look great! Always remember, beauty is pain,” you gave him a wink and continued to place your tools in order.

“You must be in pain all the time then, y/n.” Yuta exclaimed as he approached his seat.

Everyone in the dressing room let out ‘oooooo’s’ like primary school students.

You blushed but turned away quickly so he wouldn’t see. “Always teasing me, I swear one day you’re gonna pay.”

“Can’t wait for that day.” Yuta relaxed into the chair.

You leaned forward and started to place the concealer under his eyes with a small brush. You took your time and blended carefully, but felt your face become hot when you realized that he was staring at you intensely.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You stepped back to laugh and shook your head.

“What’s wrong? Am I making you flustered?” Yuta smirked.

You rolled your eyes then leaned in towards his face. He suddenly sat up straighter, moving forward so that his lips would be just a few centimeters away from yours.

“Stop teasing me. We don’t have time.” You blushed once again and stepped back.

Yuta bit his lips and chuckled. “Oh, so demanding.”

You were doing his eyeliner when you tugged at the collar of the men’s shirt. It was choking you slightly because it was higher than a regular T-shirt. That’s when your necklace popped up and rested on top of the shirt instead of under it.

“Wait...where did you get that?” Yuta leaned back.

“What?” You narrowed your brow, for you didn’t understand why his demeanor became so serious.

“That necklace...”

Shit.

“Did you steal that..from me?”

Then it all clicked for Yuta. You were in his house. You eavesdropped on his and Ashley’s conversation. That’s how you knew that he stood her up the night before. And that’s why you came to work all sweaty and out of breath.

“What are you talking about?” You backed away from him, but he stood up quickly and snatched the necklace from your neck furiously. The sound of the chain breaking frightened you and you became just as furious. This bastard had no idea what he had just done.

“Yuta!”

Everyone turned to you two once your voice rose.

“What the hell are you doing? Give it back!” You demanded.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he examined the necklace, the shape and cut of the ruby stone and the unique gold chain that it hung on.

He compared the necklace to the picture he posted on his eBay account, and sure enough, it was the same necklace.

“You stole this from my house! You stole from me! I thought I could trust you! What are you, some crazy stalker?!”

“Wait, you’re user 1026you! You’re the crazy one! You stole from me so that you can sell MY jewelry online! You also stole my limited edition eyeshadow palette!” Your voices escalated and everyone else in the room became quiet.

“This crazy bitch! Why the hell would I steal from someone like you?” Yuta gave you a look of disgust and looked down on you like you were a poor dog. You really hated his guts now. He towered over you as he yelled, but you weren’t scared. You were just angry that he had the audacity to lie in front of everyone like this.

“I can’t steal something that was already mine!”

“It was never yours! It was in MY house, and I have the proof right here!” He held up his phone as Manager Byun walked over.

“What’s going on here?” The manager was both puzzled and surprised that you were in a yelling match with the member that no one dared to fight.

“This delusional girl that you decided to hire is a stalker! She broke into my house and stole my necklace.”

“YOUR necklace? You’ve really lost your mind! You stole it from me first.” You shouted back.

“Okay, okay everyone calm down. y/n.. Did you break into Yuta’s house?” the manager turned to you.

“No-I mean, yes, but only because he was going to sell it and it’s precious to me. He ignored my messages and blocked me on eBay before I could explain!”

“You broke into my client’s house?” Baekhyun gaped.

“She sure as hell did. Security!! She tricked me and got close to me just so she could steal from me and learn my secrets. How much were you gonna sell this for, huh? But the worst part is that I trusted you like a fool,” Yuta stepped forward as he spewed hateful and untrue words.

Your eyes started to water, you struggled to hold back tears. “Yuta, you know that’s not true. The necklace was never yours! It belonged to my grandmother and means so much to me.”

“Prove it.” Yuta was angry beyond words, he felt betrayed.

You struggled to think of any way to prove that it was yours. The security guards took your arms and placed them behind your back while pulling you away and out of the room.

The only thing that could prove that the necklace was yours would be the painting that your grandmother made of you when you wore the necklace. The painting that you just now realized had also gone missing.

“No! Don’t do this! I’m not a stalker.” You struggled to stay still as the guards dragged you out.

“She’s delusional! How could you hire someone like that? She put me in danger!” Yuta marched off to the bathroom so he could cool down.

“Yuta-wait. y/n...We will be pressing charges, I’m calling the police.” Manager Byun pulled out his phone.

^_^

A few hours passed and the news broke of what happened.

Crazy Stalker poses as Makeup Artist to Break into Yuta Nakamoto’s home!

BREAKING: MUGSHOT OF DELUSIONAL STALKER OF YUTA NAKAMOTO RELEASED

How did she pull off the perfect plan and is Yuta Nakamoto in danger?

You sat on the bench in your cold cell and wiped your eyes. Everything went bad so quickly. Yuta and basically the entire world thought you were a stalker and there was nothing you could do to prove your innocence. Yuta had the audacity to accuse you of stealing something that was never his to begin with.

And now, you could hear his fans chanting hurtful messages.

“She’s a crazy stalker, We will protect Yuta!”

“Yuta, we love you!”

“SHE DOESN’T DESERVE FREEDOM”

You were so confused, but the part that hurt the most was that your most prized possession was gone and probably in the air on some shipping company's airplane being delivered to some oblivious buyer.

What could you possibly do to make everything right at this point?

Yuta, on the other hand, was at home being coddled by his oh so caring girlfriend.

He laid down on his plush, velvet couch and pouted.

“It’s gonna be okay, Yuta. I swear we’ll get the best lawyers. She’ll never see another day outside!” Ashley got up from the couch and paced about.

“I knew I had a bad feeling about her.”

But Yuta disagreed. He never had a bad feeling about you. He thought you were sweet and kind, he thought everything about you was genuine especially when compared to the fakeness that surrounded him in his lifestyle. How could he have been fooled like this?

He told you two major secrets and now he’d probably have to drop the charges in exchange for your silence.

You really got to him because you seemed to be the biggest fan of Mountain Man, you seemed to appreciate his hard work, but now he didn’t think any of your praises were genuine. He couldn’t even go on social media. All the hashtags were ALWAYSHEREFORYUTA, WEWILLPROTECTYUTA, CRAZYSTALKER.

And they just reminded him of how weak he became.

“LOOK! TMZ just got her mugshot! I’m so happy they’re exposing this bitch, I hope they release her address and family information.”

Ashley smirked when she pulled up the picture of your mugshot on Yuta’s phone.

“Ashley...you need to leave...” Yuta sat up on the couch and looked at the floor. He couldn’t take anymore of Ashley’s annoying voice and he really wanted to be alone to relax and decompress after what happened.

“Oh, my poor little meow meow, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Ashley sat back down on the couch beside him and tried to take his jaw in her hands but he backed away.

“Not now, Ash..I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ashley scoffed and slowly got up from the couch.

“Okay...let me know if you need anything.”

Yuta breathed a sigh of relief once he heard the front door close. He could hear tons of fans outside of his front gate cheering for him when she opened the door and it made him sick. He doesn’t feel proud. Because the truth is, the necklace wasn’t his. It just “appeared.” But here he was defending his possession of it and it didn’t feel right.

Yuta bit his lips then looked down at his phone which was still open with the article that included your mugshot.

He looked away at first, but then looked back down when something caught his eye. He looked more closely at the photo.

Your eyes.

He’d seen them before. Of course he had, but this time..they were different. They reminded him of something, someone.

The color of your cheeks and the depth of your beautiful eyes, the tone of your gorgeous soft skin and the curve of your lips. He had seen it before.

It took him a moment to realize.

The painting.

You were the woman in the painting that found itself in his bathroom. You were the same woman that wore a necklace just like the one he sold.

He looked over the messages you sent him on his seller account. It was like clockwork, every time something appeared in his house and he posted it online, you would message him about it to ask that he return it.

She was telling the truth. Yuta thinks to himself. He could punch himself right now. He was so rude to you for no reason. It was your stuff that kept popping up in his house and he didn’t understand why, but he knew that you were innocent. The painting was huge so it’s not like you placed it there by yourself to mess with him.

He threw on his jean jacket and headed out the door to go to the police station.

He had to fight through the screaming fans outside of the station that were waiting for a chance to attack you, the police officers gathering around him to move him through the hectic crowd.

Once inside, he went to the front desk and immediately told the officer that he wanted to drop all charges against you.

“You’re one lucky girl...” The officer said as she opened the gate of your cell.

“What?” You looked up at her questioningly and stood up from the wooden bench that had made your butt sore.

“He’s here for you..you know, the good looking rocker dude.” She unlocks your handcuffs and walks you out of the cell.

You’re relieved but can’t seem to smile, what’s going on?

Yuta was signing paperwork as you walked up to him.

“Yuta..you asshole.”

“That’s no way to speak to the man that just got your ass out.” Yuta looked up and sighed.

You scoffed. “You’re the one that put me in there! And I’m supposed to thank you?” You pushed past him and headed for the door. You started to walk down the stairs, but you were quickly stopped by the officers that stood out front.

“What the-“ you started when you saw the enormous crowd outside of the station. They were Yuta’s fans and paparazzi. They rapidly snapped so many pictures of you, you had to close your eyes and cover your face, the flashing lights being all too much for you. All you could hear were the thunderous ‘boo’s’ of Yuta’s fans.

Yuta was used to noise and flashing bright lights so he quickly came up behind you and turned you around. He held your head and pressed it onto his chest lightly.

You started to cry when you heard the names everyone was calling you over a simple misunderstanding. How could you be a ‘normal’ person after all this? All you wanted was your necklace and now you were overwhelmed by this new and unwelcoming spotlight.

“Shhh..don’t cry, it’ll be okay..I got you.” Yuta whispered into your ear as he patted your head softly.

You relaxed into him more, enjoying the comfort of his broad chest.

“Put your arms around my neck. Just trust me, okay?” Yuta’s soft tone made you shudder even though you still hated him.

But you did as he instructed.

He then picked up your legs and held you in his arms bridal style. The fans roared even louder but Yuta ignored them. He marched down the stairs towards his car while police blocked them from the two of you. He was able to lay you down on the backseat of his Range Rover before jumping into the front seat and speeding away from the madness.

Once the two of you were somewhat safe and far from the police station and his fans, Yuta exhaled.

He turned to look at you when he got to a red light. You were huddled up with your back facing him while you laid down on the surprisingly comfortable backseat. You had stopped crying, but you were still angry.

“Listen, I’m just as frustrated as you are. But we need to talk about this. What the hell is going on?” Yuta let out.

“I don’t know, maybe we should’ve talked before you had security take me away. Then all of this shit wouldn’t have happened. Oh and frustrated?” You scoffed.

“Did you just spend over 8 hours in a cold prison cell for stealing a necklace that belonged to you in the first place?!”

“You’re the one that broke into my house! Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I tried to message you but you insisted on being a jerk to make quick cash off of someone else’s belongings.”

You pulled your phone out of your pocket.

“Have you seen this shit? Your girlfriend just had a press conference and is calling for all makeup brands and agencies to swear to never hire me! I hate you, I can’t believe you put me in jail and essentially, ended my whole career!”

Yuta sighed. “I’m sorry, y/n. I really am, don’t look at social media right now, and your career isn’t over, we’ll get this sorted out.”

“How did you find out the truth anyway?” You asked.

“I recognized you in the painting, you had the necklace on.”

“The painting? Wait, you have that too?” Your eyes widened.

“Yes, and I was stupid to not realize it was you sooner. I—was an idiot, y/n. I hope you can forgive me. As a matter of fact, you can expose me as the Mountain Man if you want, you can expose everything.” Yuta was genuinely sorry for what he put you through. The whole world knew who you were now. You were famous, but not in a good way. Yuta had millions of fans and you were pretty sure you were the second most hated person in the world on twitter right now, behind Donald Trump of course.

“Yuta...I don’t want to get even with you, I want my life back.” You closed your eyes and started to drift off into a deep sleep while he drove.

Yuta cursed himself, he felt a bond being created with you and now he ruined it. And he had to admit that he had started to admire the woman in the painting, the woman he wanted to know even though his soul felt he already knew her. And now, the beautiful woman was right next to him, and yet, so far away.

^_^

When you got back to Yuta’s place, you entered through the garage so no one could see you get out of his car.

Yuta took you to his security room where he could watch footage from all of the cameras inside and outside of his house.

He reached for your hand to guide you through the large mansion, but you didn’t take it this time.

You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Explain to me why you keep taking my stuff.”

“I don’t take anything. It just..appears.” Yuta walked quickly to the room.

“I'm gonna prove it to you right now.”

Yuta pulls up footage from the night the painting appeared in his bathroom, but every time he fast forwards to the exact moment that the painting appears, the footage cuts out.

“Did you see that? The second that my camera cuts to black is the moment that the painting just magically appears.”

You blink rapidly. “Play it again.”

Yuta replays it and you both watch the unexplainable. Chills run down your spine as you are creeped all the way out.

“I’ll show you the night your necklace popped up in my kitchen.”

It felt like you were watching something from Paranormal Activity and although you were a big fan of horror movies, you sure didn’t like being in one.

The same thing happened. There is a second of footage that is cut out and right after, the footage plays again with the new item in frame. It didn’t make any sense.

Yuta looked at you as you stared at the screen and tried to make sense of what he saw.

You were so beautiful, your long lashes batting slowly, your pursed lips and cute nose. Why was he so drawn to you? The magnetic pull he felt towards you became even stronger now that he knew you were the woman in the painting.

“Where is it now, Yuta?”

“Where’s what?” Yuta was only thinking about your face. For a moment, he forgot what you were even doing there.

“The necklace.” Your doe eyes shifted upwards to his.

Yuta sighed and looked away to the floor. “I—was upset, so I already sent it to the buyer.”

You closed your eyes and let out a slow breath.

“Yuta...we have to get it back, you don’t..you don’t understand.”

“They won’t give it back to me, y/n. They already know that I’m the user that sold it, it’ll be even more valuable now.”

“But it’s priceless to me, Yuta!” You yelled before tears ran down your cheeks.

“y/n..” Yuta stepped forward to hug you, and you let him. His arms held you tightly. “We’ll work this out, I’ll get it back if it means that much to you.”

“My grandmother was a painter, she’s the one that created that painting for me. She was the best..” you sniffled as you rested your head on his chest again.

“She was the one that taught me about creativity, color and believing in your art.. she’s the one I looked up to when I was growing up. I spent most of my time with her when my parents would fight..which was pretty often.”

Yuta smoothed your hair as you spoke.

“But one day, she lit a candle..she forgot to blow it out before falling asleep on her couch and a fire started to spread..”

“y/n..I’m so sorry.”

“The oil paintings allowed for the fire to become huge and made it impossible for her to escape..she died before firefighters could get to her, the only thing that survived the fire was that necklace. She held onto it..for me. She said she would give it to me one day when I was old enough.” You sobbed once more.

“y/n..I promise you I will do everything I can to get it back.”

You sniffled then looked up at Yuta. “Please, Yuta.”

He nodded. “ I promise.”

Just then you felt something walk between your ankles. When you looked down, you were startled to see your cat, Totoro.

“What the hell? Why do you have my cat? I’ve been looking for him everywhere, but he’s old and just kinda does what he wants.” Totoro’s abrupt entrance makes you stop crying.

“What? YOUR cat? He’s in my house, he’s mine now.” Yuta says sternly.

God, why was he so possessive?  

You looked back up at him and pushed his chest away, you suddenly remembered the kind of man Yuta was.

“He’s MY cat, you fool. You didn’t even raise him. You probably lured him in here by giving him food!” You picked Totoro up.

You still hated Yuta, however, it was like a weight had been lifted once you told him about the significance of the necklace.

You turned to leave Yuta’s place through the back entrance you entered through.

“Prove it, prove he’s yours, what’s his name?” Yuta looked hurt that you were taking Totoro away from him.

“It’s Totoro, bitch.” You rolled your eyes and continued walking straight-faced with your cat in hand.

Yuta’s eyes grew, he was left speechless.

The two of you finally got to the garage.

You turned to him.

“You owe me a ride home, and after that, I never want to see you again.”

^_^

Yuta drove you back to your apartment, apologizing multiple times. This day he apologized more times than he has ever apologized for anything in his life. It had to be some sort of record.

You were tired because this truly had been one of the longest days of your life. You wanted a warm shower and to hug Totoro to sleep.

Yuta parked his car in front of your building and turned to look at you. “y/n...”

“Thanks for the ride back,” you muttered as you and Totoro walked back to your apartment.

You looked so dejected and devoid of any emotion. This entire misunderstanding did a number on you. And it was his fault. He had to act fast if he was going to make this up to you.

Little did you know that a pair of serpentine eyes watched you from across the parking lot. Ashley laid low in a car she typically wouldn’t be caught dead in and watched her man drive that freak home. That was when she saw that you were carrying that mangy cat in your arms.

“So it was her cat?” She asked herself. She pulled out her phone as she took pictures of you leaving Yuta’s car and pictures of Yuta’s license plate.

Once you were out of sight, Yuta just idled there. For a little too long. It drove Ashley crazy. How could Yuta be so kind to this nobody? After everything you did?

You were inferior to her in every way, Ashley thought. Yuta was a fool for looking at anyone but her. She had to do something so you could be out of the picture forever.

She would be damned if Yuta left her for an unemployed, disgraced nobody. Ashley pitied you because she wasn’t finished with her reign of terror on you. Not by a long shot.

^_^

A few days have passed since your name became the most searched on all social media platforms. You prayed something juicier could distract the public so you could become insignificant again.

A news article came out that Yuta dropped the charges against you and that you were innocent. Unfortunately, the deranged and delusional members of the public (aka the Yutastans) already made up their mind about you. And today, shit hit the fan once again.

Delilah sat with you on the couch as you binge watched Riverdale. It cheered you up to roast the show with your best friend. Things almost seemed like they hadn’t changed.

Delilah checked her phone and nearly choked on her glass of water.

“What is it?” You asked. “Are you okay?”

Delilah set her glass down as she stared at her phone. “That’s our apartment complex. Fuck.”

“Delilah, what’s wrong?” You had a bad feeling.

“y/n, it’s going to be okay. We will get through this,” she began and you motioned for her to hand you her phone.

Delilah reluctantly handed it to you as you read the article on her phone.

Yuta Nakamoto’s Crazy Stalker Is Actually His Side Chick?

That was the headline and your heart plummeted. There were pictures of you holding Totoro as you got out of Yuta’s car when he brought you home.

“What the hell,” you started, “Who took these?” You demanded.

Someone knocked at your door and you shrunk into the couch. Delilah looked at you in concern and she went to answer the door. You both feared who it could be.

She checked the peephole and exhaled. “It’s Yangyang.”

She opened the door and Yangyang ran in. “y/n, are you okay? I saw-“

Shutting the door. Delilah raised her hand up to stop him. “We just saw the article.”

Yangyang cursed. “Someone leaked those photos to the paparazzi. I‘ll help you track down who did this, y/n.”

You sat there in silence. What could you say? What was the point? It was your word against the public who never believed in you. Not only do they think you stole things from Yuta but they now considered you a homewrecker.

And it was only a matter of time before your home address was leaked.

Delilah and Yangyang looked at each other in concern. Delilah deliberated. “She came home with Totoro that day. It was last Thursday. Around...4 PM?”

Yangyang nodded and sat down at the kitchen table. “It’s been a while since I’ve hacked into the complex’s security footage.”

That got a reaction out of you. “You mean you’ve done this before?”

Yangyang smiled wide, happy to see you react to that. “Someone paid me a hefty sum to catch their cheating husband in his shenanigans. I use my powers for good. You know this.”

Delilah scoffed. “You are such a little weirdo.”

He rolled his eyes at the word “little”. He typed away at his keyboard. He chuckled. “Amateurs. They changed one number in their password. Lazy.”

Yangyang navigated through the parking lot security footage. Based off of the angle of which the photo was shot, he was able to pinpoint where the culprit was hiding.

“A 2019 Lexus,” Yangyang said, “License plate ASHL3Y.”

Delilah let out a sarcastic laugh. “Golly gee, whoever could that be...”

You got up from the couch and checked the footage with Yangyang. “I believe it. She hated me even before she met me.”

“She’s the crazy stalker, if you ask me,” Yangyang said.

You sighed. “What will it take for her to leave me alone?”

Your phone rang. It was an unknown number and you chose to ignore it, knowing damn well it was probably a Yutastan who was going to cast some sort of evil spell on you.

Then, immediately you got a text.

Answer the phone. Unless you want an angry mob to break into your apartment tomorrow. -kiss emoji-

^_^

“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” Ashley started. “Can I offer you a glass of lemonade? Some Brie and crackers?”

In Ashley’s penthouse suite, you sat with her in the living room. She sat across from you in a leather loveseat while you sat in a massive L-shaped leather sofa.

“What the hell do you want? You want to throw it in my face that you ruined my life and put not only my life in danger but my friends’ and family’s lives in danger, too?” You snapped.

Ashley laughed. Her voice was as irritating as that of any early 2000s socialite. “Don’t be so dramatic. No one knows about your family. Your friends at the complex are safe with some of my best security guards.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said as you rolled your eyes.

“None of this would’ve happened if you knew your place and left my Yuta alone,” she said, “So, how long?” She demanded.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“How long have you two been screwing around behind my back?” She asked.

It was your turn to bust out laughing. You almost cried. “I helped him with his shoot last Wednesday night. The closest I’ve ever gotten to Yuta was when he gave me one guitar lesson. He drove me home twice. Once from work and the second from when he picked me up from my jail cell. It was the least he could do after selling my stuff and oh...I don’t know...SENDING ME TO JAIL.“

Ashley didn’t believe you. “Right. Well, whatever happened between you two...It ends now. Or else I will keep making your life a living hell and destroy the lives of everyone around you.”

“Ashley, the last thing I want to do is see Yuta. I want to be a makeup artist and go back to the life I had before I met him.” Damn the connection you thought you two had. It would surely fade as quickly as it appeared.

Ashley began, “Which is why I have an opportunity for you.”

You frowned. “What?”

Ashley filed her nails as she spoke to you. “Timothée Chalamet’s new horror film begins production next month in Paris. There is an opening for the makeup team, y/n.”

You coughed. “What are you-“

She interrupted you, “Take the job and your name will be cleared. Your friends and family will be safe. Your dreams of becoming a successful makeup artist will come true...”

You knew she wasn’t finished so you waited for her to continue. She was so melodramatic.

“In return, you never come back to LA and leave Yuta alone forever,” Ashley said.

“I’ll have to come back to the city. You can’t ban me from visiting...That is, if I take the job,” you deliberated.

Ashley scoffed. “If?”

You sighed. “Ashley, LA is my home. It’s a big city.” You figured there had to be a way to compromise.

But you realized you were dealing with an unhinged diva.

Ashley said, “It’s a big city, sure. But as of now, every single person knows you as Yuta’s crazy stalker. It will stay that way if you don’t take this opportunity.”

You kept your mouth shut.

“I think I’m being pretty generous, all things considered,” she said as she flipped her bleached hair behind her shoulder. “You would be stupid to turn this down. Want to stay a jobless pariah? Be my guest.”

Your hands were tied. As much as you despised Ashley for making things so much worse for you, she had the answer to your problems. And since you were done with Yuta, agreeing to never see him again didn’t even feel like a big price to pay. And Timothée Chalamet was a mega Hollywood Star. Participating in his film would surely open doors for you. If Ashley kept her word to clear your name. And Paris? You’ve dreamed of going to Paris for years. Your grandmother told you incredible stories of when she studied abroad and lived there for a few years. It was a chance to be closer to her. The sightseeing and the art were enough to make you giddy.

You refused to let this girl drag your name through the mud and jeopardize your loved ones’ lives because they were associated with you. It wasn’t right. This way, everyone could win.

“Okay, you win,” you said.

“Actually, y/n, we both win,” she said as she clinked her glass of champagne at you and drank from it.

^_^

Ashley’s driver took you back to the apartment. When you unlocked the door to your place, you were shocked to see Yuta seated on the couch with Totoro on his lap.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

Yuta shrugged. “You break into my house. I figured it’s only fair I break into yours.”

You sighed as you took your shoes off as you sat beside Yuta. Naturally, Totoro left Yuta’s lap to greet you.

He nodded. “Delilah let me in. I had to check up on you.”

Yuta kept in touch with your best friend without your knowledge. You realized that now. You’d have to talk to her about that later.

“Well, that’s nice and all but you have to leave,” you said as you averted your gaze from him.

Yuta ignored you. “Where did you go? I was worried sick.”

“I’m fine. I…went to an interview,” you said. There was no way you’d tell him about your meeting with Ashley. He had the mind to intervene and you didn’t want things to escalate any further.

He stared at you in disbelief. “What? For another job? y/n, I told you that you could come back to work with us.”

You shook your head. “If I so much as go to the same supermarket as you, there will be a bounty for my head.”

He shook his head. “The charges have been dropped, y/n. What happened today was…”

“The second of many hits to my career if we don’t stop this now,” you said.

Yuta replied, “y/n-“

“Which brings me to this…Did you get my necklace back?” You asked. If he said no, then you had the ammunition to kick him out. If he somehow got your necklace back…you would have to get even meaner.

Yuta’s face fell. “No, y/n…I reached out to the buyer and they haven’t responded.” He wondered if the buyer already sold it for more or if the buyer was biding his time to ask Yuta for money. “I traced the buyer’s address but they disappeared without a trace. I am so sorry.”

You sighed. “Okay.” You got up from the sofa and headed for the door. “Then, I guess that’s all that needs to be said.” You opened it and motioned for him to leave.

Yuta got up from the couch. “y/n, please we can fix this. As crazy as this sounds, I think I’m falling-“

You stopped him. “Yuta, we can’t. You need to go. You can’t get caught in this complex again. For your safety. And if you care at all about mine.”

Yuta froze. “I will do everything I can to clear your name. Please give me time.”

You couldn’t respond to his sweet voice. You had to resist. As much as you denied it, you felt something for Yuta. From the moment you heard his song “Breeze”, you connected with him before you even met him. His hard work, his talent, his sense of humor, his admiration of your work, his way with words with you before everything went to shit, even the way Totoro gravitated towards him. There was something special about him. Given other circumstances, you would’ve considered exploring a friendship with him. But even that was out of the question. “Goodbye, Yuta.”

He slowly walked out the door and looked back at you. His captivating brown eyes trying to pull you in again but this time, they were full of hurt and longing.

You shut the door, not waiting for him to walk away.

^_^

A couple of days have passed as Yuta reached out to multiple media outlets to clear your name. He admitted that he accidentally sold your necklace. Unfortunately, he couldn’t explain exactly how he’d come into possession of your necklace. So he said the best thing he could come up with: a family friend bought it at a garage sale and thought he might like to have it. Yuta started the account 1026you to sell the items he found around his home in order to raise funds for the LA LGBT Center. Aside from his regular donations from his earnings, Yuta thought he could sell your stuff to make some extra cash for the organization. Had he known that these random items belonged to you he wouldn’t have done that. Which begged the question:

How is it that you lived all the way across town and your stuff just magically appeared in his house? And why?

It seemed like some kind of divine intervention, if anyone asked him. For you two were connected and he only wanted to grow closer to you.

Except now he couldn’t. He failed to get your necklace. You were still blacklisted no matter what he said to multiple companies. He was thankful that you were still able to get an interview like you told him. He wondered if that company hired you. He hoped you were doing well.

Rehearsals for Skylark’s LA shows were still underway. Lily was rehired and Yuta apologized to her for being so rude. The dressing room wasn’t as lighthearted as it’d been when you were around. It was a short time that you were there but he missed you so much.

With Yuta’s heartache, he used music as an outlet. He thought about the night he first taught you how to play the guitar. There was one melody that lingered in his mind every day since. Now he took his time to work the song out of his mind. It was a song that you inspired him to write and he knew it was his best work. He hoped he could play it for you soon.

Yuta missed Totoro’s presence in his home. He didn’t realize how lonely he was until he lost you and your cat. Ashley popped in every day, insisting she stay over. So he begged his sister Suzuka to let him babysit her cat Thorn. Yuta claimed it was out of his hands to babysit Thorn so Ashley stayed less frequently.

Yuta drank a cup of green tea at his kitchen island. He had the day off before his solo press conference. His management wanted him to promote his album but he would also take the opportunity to clear your name.

He pleaded with his agency to let him cut ties with Ashley but Ashley’s agency wouldn’t budge. If Yuta broke up with Ashley, then Ashley’s agency would cut ties with Sky High Entertainment.

He hoped to convince Ashley to cut ties with him today. It was almost as if she was avoiding the conversation as the minute she came in, she ran into the bathroom to take a bubble bath.

“Yuta! Can you be a doll and rub this shower gel on my back?” She asked suggestively.

Yuta knew she was trying to get him in bed so he wouldn’t be able to think straight. These days Ashley seemed more repulsive than usual. Yuta was getting tired.

“No!” Yuta yelled outside the door. “When you finish up, meet me in the living room.”

She didn’t respond right away. She lowered her voice. “Okay…”

Another hour went by and Yuta still waited in the living room. Ashley was avoiding him. He was fed up and he went to look for her. Surely, she’d be out of the bath now. She couldn’t afford to let her skin prune for that long.

He overheard her laughing in his bedroom. “I gotta tell you, Melissa. You should’ve seen the look on her face when I picked her up from that ghetto apartment complex.”

Melissa laughed over the phone. Yuta recognized those nails on a chalkboard from whenever his band had a fan meeting. Melissa Lee, his fanclub president. Yuta frowned and tiptoed as quietly as he could.

Ashley continued, “All I had to do was offer her a job in Paris. Frankly, I’m being way too nice for my own good.”

Melissa replied, “Well, at least you got her out of Yuta’s perfectly shampooed hair.”

“That I did. So when are you going to post the YutAsh tribute video to your website?” Ashley asked as she fell onto Yuta’s bed.

Paris? What the hell did Ashley do?

He remembered how you were unaccounted for that day he went to see you. She said you had an interview. It was interesting how this interview fell on the exact same day those photos of you leaving his car were leaked. Who followed you two that day?

Of course, it was Ashley. Yuta realized how stupid he’d been. She’d basically conspired against you right under his nose. And he was furious.

But he had to be strategic. There was only one way he wanted to take Ashley down. And it would be in the way that hurt most.

^_^

Yuta’s press conference was at The Grove. Hundreds of fans were lined up from the night before. The media was in a frenzy. Your members and team were also in attendance so this was the talk of the town.

The announcer called you in. “Ladies and gentleman: Yuta Nakamoto.”

Yuta, in a gray custom-made business suit, radiated elegance and lethality, which many of his fans said was his unique charm.

Yuta got up to the podium and adjusted the microphone as he spoke into it. “Hello, I’m here to announce the release date of my first solo mini album.”

The crowd roared while the cameras flashed. There was a lot of talking from the journalists in the front.

He smirked. He was ready to give them something to talk about.

“The album comes out July 15th. Ashley and I have been fake dating and I’m here to say that it’s over.”

The crowd was in an uproar. The press yelled out questions. Yuta’s team was full of mixed reactions. His bandmates cheered and laughed. Baekhyun looked panicked. The company executives looked paler than they’ve ever been.

Ashley, who couldn’t have been more obvious as she gossiped with Melissa, almost fell over in her Jimmy Choos.

Yuta laughed. “I’ll take a few questions.” He pointed to a representative from Teen Scene Weekly.

“Yuta, is your breakup with Ashley because of y/n?” They asked.

Yuta sighed. “First off, Ashley and I dated to strengthen our respective companies. We were friends. We had a good time. For a while now, I’ve wanted to cut ties with her but out of respect for my company, I held on a little longer…However, after I politely asked for a breakup, I was denied. Now tell me…do you think that’s fair? After everything Skylark has given to the company? That we get used this way? I’m fed up with it.”

Yuta knew he only had a minute at most before he was pulled off the stage. Ashley yelled out, “Yuta, please stop!”

He continued, “Which brings me to y/n. She never did anything wrong. As I have gone on record to say twenty times in the past week, she never stole from me. She lost her necklace along with other possessions. Friends and family got these possessions for me from garage sales. That’s all I know. y/n is innocent. I made a huge mistake by having her arrested. She is an excellent makeup artist. One of the best in the business. I should know because I’ve been in this industry for seven years now. So if you’ve blacklisted her, then the joke’s on you. Because she has more talent than most of your employed artists ever hope to have. Lastly, to answer your question…y/n is not the other woman. She never was. I started falling for her but I never acted on it. Until now.”

The crowd was in a frenzy. A lot of the fans were crying and it made Yuta wonder if he had any true fans at all. If they cared so much about who he dated, then they didn’t see him as anything else other than their property.

Skylark’s security guards went to pull Yuta off the stage but he walked out on his own with his hands up in surrender. The guards escorted him to his car.

Yuta got into the driver’s seat and nearly screamed at seeing Ashley in the passenger seat.

“What the fuck?” He demanded.

“I had extra copies of your car keys made,” she said like she knit him a pair of mittens.

“Get out,” Yuta said with clenched teeth.

“You ruined me, Mr. Nakamoto. How are you going to make it up to me?” She asked. Her eyeliner ran down her cheeks. Her critically acclaimed face made her look like the wicked witch from Snow White.

Yuta laughed humorlessly. “I don’t owe you anything, Ash. You ruined y/n’s life and pushed her away from me. You knew I never loved you so why? Why keep this charade up?”

“We need each other We are perfect together. With your music and your bone structure and my beauty and me being a triple threat, we would be unstoppable. We can only help each other. Why can’t you see that?” She traced her fingers over his chest.

“I’ve heard enough. Please leave before I call security,” Yuta said in a low voice.

“Security?” Ashley scoffed. “Fuck off. No one calls security on me.”

Yuta rolled his eyes, already having dialed Tom, one of the security guards. “Yeah, Yuta?” He asked.

“Come back. Ashley broke into my car,” Yuta said quickly.

Ashley grabbed his phone. “Yuta! What have you done?”

Yuta sighed. “What I should’ve done a long time ago.”

He unlocked the door as the guards came running over to pull Ashley out of the car. She put up a good fight but the guards successful got her out.

She yelled out, “Well, you’re too late! Her flight to Paris leaves in a couple of hours.”

Thankful that Ashley always had a big mouth, Yuta backed away from the scene and raced to the airport.

^_^

You were on the plane, happy to have the row to yourself. You had to find some joy somehow. It wasn’t like you were being exiled from your hometown.

Totoro stayed with your mom. Once the shoot finished, you would get him back so you can relocate from LA. It still hurt to leave everyone.

Yangyang and Delilah agreed to move in together so he could save on rent and she wouldn’t have to pay for the apartment by herself. But you had a feeling there was something they weren’t telling you. You couldn’t wait for updates from both of them.

In a matter of eleven hours, you would be at the Charles de Gaulle airport, ready to embark on a new chapter in your life. You put your earbuds in and put your music on shuffle. The first song from the shuffle was ironically “Your Type” by Carly Rae Jepsen. It was a song about unrequited love and you were tempted to skip. Instead, you chose to wallow.

As much as you suppressed it, a part of you held onto thoughts of Yuta. Losing your possessions and finding them in Yuta’s place. You were both confused. Part of you wondered if there was something paranormal about it all. Maybe paranormal wasn’t the right word. Maybe…something magical?

Even so, too much damage had been done for you two to return to the friendship you had for a such a short but sweet time. And Ashley drove an even larger wedge between you two by threatening you. As much as Yuta frustrated you with everything else, you were even more frustrated that he was still with her. If it was fake, why did he keep it up? Didn’t he want to be with someone he loved?

Well, it wasn’t your problem. He was a big boy. He should be able to handle problems like this since he talked such a big game all the time.

So irritating, you thought, but also irritatingly cute.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a commotion on the plane.

“Sir, your seat is in 5A. Come back here!” A flight attendant yelled.

“y/n!” Yuta yelled as he ran down the aisle looking for you. He wore a large beanie and sunglasses so no one could recognize him.

The passengers looked alarmed at the disguised man yelling frantically. Yuta realized screaming wouldn’t help his case so he scoped out for you.

And then he saw you.

Your face was made up but you still looked like you lost many hours of sleep the past few nights. But still, you were the most stunning creature he’d ever laid his eyes on. Your eyelashes brushed against your cheeks as you slept. Your lips slightly parted and Yuta bit his lip.

The flight attendant caught up to him. “Sir-“

Yuta raised his finger and nodded towards you.

The flight attendant calmed down. “You’re assigned to 5A. Why are you all the way back here?”

“Can I switch with whoever is supposed to sit here?” He asked.

The attendant frowned. “Why would you want to-“

“Please,” Yuta pleaded, “Sitting towards the front freaks me out.”

The attendant sighed. “Well, sir, you’re the last one on the plane so that seat appears to be available. Go ahead.”

Yuta smiled genuinely. “Thank you.”

The attendant was stunned and she had a feeling she recognized him. She shrugged it off and resumed her duties to get everyone situated on the plane.

Yuta exhaled in relief as he sat beside you. You looked so cute curled up in your chair but also very uncomfortable. He was tempted to offer you his shoulder but that would ruin the surprise.

Half an hour went by and you turned to your right to see the seat had been occupied by someone in glasses and a beanie. So much for having the row to yourself, you thought.

The stranger beside you said, “Morning, sleepyhead.”

You frowned as you opened your eyes more. “Hi…?”

But when you sat up, you saw his piercings and the curve of his lips. “Yuta?” You whisper-yelled.

He flashed his perfect set of teeth at you as he lowered his glasses. “Hey.”

You laughed in disbelief. “What are you-“

Yuta shrugged casually. “I felt like a trip to Paris.”

“Right…Who told you?” You asked. You dropped your defenses. For now.

“Surprisingly, it was Ashley. She may be a schemer but she’s never been the sharpest tool in the shed.”

You looked at him, noticing how disheveled he looked. He was soaked in sweat. He must have ran through the airport to catch this flight.

“Why are you so sweaty?” You asked.

“I ran,” Yuta said as he realized he must have looked as gross as he felt. And taking off his beanie was almost out of the question since his fuchsia hair dye made him stick out like a sore thumb.

You felt for him so you pulled some wipes from your bag and gave them to him. “That beanie looks uncomfortable so take this.” You handed him a cap instead. It was a Dodgers cap.

“Thanks,” Yuta said as he swapped the beanie for his hat and cleaned himself up.

“Well, good night again,” you said as you turned to the window and shut your eyes.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked. He mistook your acts for kindness for wanting to talk to him.

“We’re done here, aren’t we?” You asked. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“y/n, I…You can’t move to Paris,” he started.

“I accepted the position, Yuta. I can’t go back from an obligation.” You turned away from him and stared out the window. The attendants were giving their airplane safety spiel. You know you were about to ascend. “Unless you have a schedule in Paris, then you should leave. Before you’re stuck on this flight.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be, y/n,” he said softly.

His voice sent shivers down your spine but you pushed your feelings down. You couldn’t let him get to you. “You hurt me.” You let it out. Maybe if you kept this up, he would leave you alone.

Yuta sighed. “I know and I’m so sorry.”

Upon hearing him apologize, you perked up but you chose to keep your back turned.

Yuta went on to say, “I screwed up. Getting you arrested, fired, and hated by everyone. I screwed up even more by selling your grandma’s necklace. And I hate that I couldn’t get it back. More than anything. I know what Ashley did to you. It was wrong of her. She had no right. I finally broke up with her. In front of everyone.”

You turned to him, worried about the repercussions of the break up. “By everyone, you don’t mean…”

“At my press conference…”

You put a hand to your mouth in shock. “Ashley must be furious.” What did this mean for you now? What if Ashley retracted the offer and then you were truly left without a job or a home?

Yuta chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about that witch.”

You shook your head. “If you broke up with her, then she’s on the warpath.”

Yuta replied, “She’ll find another big name to terrorize soon enough. I’m close to contract termination anyway.”

You gaped. “What?”

“At the conference, I told everyone that Ashley and I were a fake couple. I broke up with her and then…I told everyone how I felt about you. I really like you, y/n,” He turned bashful, putting his hands in pant pockets.

“Yuta, are you crazy?”

He didn’t expect that response.

“How could you jeopardize your career for me? You barely even know me. Sure, we shared pizza and…we had a moment when you taught me guitar…But that’s not enough reason to put everything on the line.”

“y/n, you don’t understand. I feel like we really know each other. I can’t explain it,” he said, “Why do you think it is that your stuff kept popping up at my place? There’s some sort of cosmic connection between us. That’s not something we can ignore.”

He thought the same way you had about the things you lost and later found. But you were scared. Ashley made you a human target and you knew you could end this stress by leaving. You didn’t want to jeopardize anyone you loved.

You didn’t even want to jeopardize Yuta. Especially since he just risked his entire career for you.

“Yuta, we can’t. Being with me will ruin your career,” you said. The plane started moving across the tarmac.

“y/n…”

Now you two were stuck on the plane. You weren’t planning to budge and you prayed that when you landed in Paris that Yuta would catch the next flight back to LA.

Hours passed. You were so exhausted that you nearly fell asleep the entire plane ride.

Apparently, so was Yuta. You woke up finding yourself leaning against his shoulder and his neck was nuzzled against the top of your head. He still smelled like roses and vanilla, even after working up a sweat to get onto the plane. He was a fool, you thought to yourself.

But you were an even bigger fool because you didn’t remove yourself from him.

The pilot announced overhead, “Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Paris. Bienvenue à Paris.”

You realized you’d been awake too long and hadn’t moved away quickly. You felt Yuta move so you pretended to have just woken up from the announcement. You quickly pulled away from him. Yuta rubbed his neck and watched you.

You left the plane with Yuta trailing behind you. You picked up your bags at baggage claim. Yuta grabbed one of your bags.

“Yuta, it’s fine. I have this,” you said as you pointed to the luggage cart.

Yuta relented and helped you put your bags on the cart.

He followed you to the arrivals section where drivers had their posters with the names of people they were picking up. You saw your name and identified yourself with the driver. The driver helped you with your luggage.

“Bye, Yuta,” you said quickly, not about to linger. You turned away when he took your hand.

“y/n, please…” He begged.

“Take care, okay?” You said as you pulled your hand away and caught up with your driver.

Heartbroken but unrelenting, Yuta was about to follow you when someone pulled his hat off.

“Oh my God, it’s Yuta! C’est Yuta. Skylark!” A girl yelled.

Yuta ran for cover, the gears shifting in his head for his next move with you.

^_^

It’s a few days later that you finally get to explore Paris. You haven’t heard a word from the fuchsia-haired boy, but you were trying to get over him anyway so you didn’t mind.

You had to realize that at the end of the day, he had his devoted army of fans and you..only had yourself. He didn’t need you, so surely he’d forget about you soon enough. You two had only known each other for a short time, regardless of it feeling like an eternity.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you get to the Eiffel Tower. It’s kinda cold, but the dreamy sunset draws in.

When you felt a sudden gust of wind, you closed your eyes and remembered Yuta’s warm chest on your back, the way his long fingers comforted and guided yours on the stiff strings of the guitar. His breath dancing along your ear while you shivered and felt goosebumps expose themselves.

The echoing bass in his voice that hit your heart..and other places too.

The sun was slowly retreating from the sky, but it was still bright..as bright as his smile, you missed it, even when he only showed it during his sarcastic, asshole moments.

His lips so full and soft, even the brush you used over them had a difficult time coloring to perfect something that didn’t need perfecting.

Ashley was one lucky girl. It was only a matter of time until she and Yuta got back together.

You looked to the ground and sighed. Why did you have to think of him? Even when one of the most beautiful pieces of art towered over you.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something so great in your life now. The connection you felt with him hit you like a train and there was nothing that could compare to it. It was so strong, it could probably compete with the earth’s gravitational pull to your body.

“Yuta..I hate you, I really do.” You whispered to yourself as you clutched your long jacket around your body. You tried to convince yourself that this was true so that you’d finally be at peace. Key word: tried.

In the front of the Eiffel Tower was a board that read the rules, opening times etc.

“Le Jules Vernes Restaurant..’closed tonight for a special event..damn it.” You had planned on treating yourself to a meal at the top of the Eiffel Tower so you could take in the view as long as some fresh air. But lucky for you, it was closed for that evening.

You licked your lips and sighed.

Would you ever have things go your way?

You were about to walk away when you heard a speaker being plugged in. The feedback was obnoxiously painful and loud, and got everyone’s attention. You all turned to see the source.

A guitar riff played soon after and you heard a chorus of whispers from people on the lawn.

“Oh my God..OH MY GOD ITS YUTA NAKAMOTO FROM SKYLARK!” A girl screams as she runs past you with another girl in hand, just barely holding on.

Shit.

You squint your eyes to look at the person that a crowd begins to form around and sure enough, it is your nemesis with the pink hair. He’s smiling widely and saying ‘hi’ to everyone as his bodyguards put their arms out to stop anyone from getting too close. His guitar is in his hands and his microphone has already been set up.

“Time to go back to the hotel.”

You turn and start to brush past all the people running to see Yuta perform.

“Yuta?! What is he doing here?”

“Holy shit! Yuta is about to perform for us!”

“Yuta from Skylark? Aren’t they about to go on tour?”

You overhear some of the comments and the last thing you want is for them to realize who you are, the infamous “crazy stalker,” so you duck and push through.

You don’t feel his eyes peering the crowd and eventually locking into your body as you walk away. His smile fades and he realizes he has to act quickly.

He strums out one chord on the guitar and the girls go into a frenzy.

“This song..is for someone that just entered my life. It’s only been a few weeks, but she’s changed it for the better. She knows me more than anyone else does and I honestly don’t know how I lived without her before.”

Yuta speaks into the microphone, making the growing crowd of listeners go silent.

You slow your pace but still don’t turn around. There’s no way he could be talking about you.

“Who is he talking about? Didn’t he just break up with Ashley?” You hear a few girls whisper.

“She doesn’t know it yet, but I don’t plan on living without her anymore..she makes my head spin, she makes me forget the words to songs that I’ve sung everyday for the past 3 years, she gives me the WORST case of butterflies...she truly is a nuisance, but I need her. y/n..”

You stop in your tracks and stare at the grass below your planted feet.

“Please don’t go..” Yuta’s eyes are wide, he just needs you to turn around and look at him, to give him a second chance.

The people turn to follow his line of vision, eventually seeing your body standing alone and far away.

“Oh my god it’s her.” They whisper.

You start to walk again when you hear the whispering yet overwhelming gossip. You’re just so tired of all of the attention you’ve been getting. Yuta was trying to make some grand statement to get you back, but he didn’t realize that this was the opposite of what you wanted.

“She’s like the rain on summer days when the garden needs some nurturing...” Yuta strums his guitar and sings.

“She’s like a constellation of stars, oh she’s beautiful, and very gorgeous to me.”

You’re still walking but he continues.

“But I don’t even know her name, I only see her in a frame, yet her face is stuck in my mind..she’s the girl in the portrait, the girl with the necklace..the girl with my heart, but the girl I don’t know..I could give her the world, but it’s not like she needs it from me. She’s a work of art, she’s the only thing I see.”

You stop again, this time turning around to finally face him.

“No one knows me like you do, yes, you see the right through..and I know you won’t forgive me, I just hope you won’t forget me..because I know I’ll be thinking of you, yes you, the girl in the portrait.”

Your eyes start to tear up. The Mountain Man, the singer you so adored had written a song about you. And the melody was just as charming as his other songs. Were you that important to him that he created this song for you?

You stood there frozen as ice and stunned, with a thousand eyes on you.

“That was The Girl In the Portrait, I wrote it for y/n, because, well, it’s a funny story actually.” Yuta said as he put his guitar down and stood up. The crowd chuckled and clapped but people were still focused on you and waiting for your reaction.

This was one level above a public proposal and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Please..” Yuta said quietly.

You cursed silently. Your heart felt weak and you couldn’t just turn away like your conscious told you to. Your heart told you to forgive him and start over.

Yuta went all the way to Paris for you, he wrote a song for you and ditched his first tour date. He did it all for you. If that didn’t show his sincerity towards you, you weren’t sure what would.

‘I Hate You’ you mouthed before smiling.

Yuta ran towards you abruptly, making his bodyguards scurry behind him to push his fans away from him, they struggled to keep up as he dashed like Bolt towards you.

You braced yourself for impact from the 6-foot something man about to collide into you.

Yuta’s teeth showed brightly as he held out his arms and wrapped them around you. Wrinkles formed at the sides of his eyes.

He’s so filled with excitement, he lifts you three feet about the grace and bends backward.

“Yuta!” You laugh out at the sudden move, but he chuckles and brings you back down.

You breathed in his amazing scent before closing your eyes and adoring his warmth. You felt so at ease in his arms, everything faded away. The cries as well as cheers from his fans soon faded into the background. You rested your head in his chest and exhaled.

You lifted your limp arms that were once at your side and wrapped them around him while he rubbed your back. Having you in his arms tonight made it feel like Christmas Day. He never wanted it to end. Even with all the people staring and all the phones recording, he didn’t want this moment to end. He prayed that you would stay in his arms forever, for you were the only thing that made him feel comfortable and happy. You did for him what music could no longer do.

“y/n...”

“Mhmm?” you hummed, your eyes still closed while you enjoyed his embrace.

“I want to kiss you..”

Your neck nearly snapped when you looked up at him.

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“But not here..up there..will you let me?”

Yuta smirked and tilted his head towards the tower.

“Nice try, user 1026you, the restaurant is closed tonight.”

“For a special event, I know...that’s why it’ll just be me and you.” Yuta chuckled when your brows furrowed.

“Yuta..”

“I’d give you the world if you let me.” Yuta grew serious as he searched your eyes and swallowed hard. He ignored the fact that his bodyguards were having an increasingly difficult time with holding back his fans.

The two of you were surrounded by complete madness, but you felt alone..lost in each other’s eyes.

Your mouth was open slightly, you couldn’t believe that he actually booked the entire restaurant just for the two of you.

“So..You gonna let me give you a night in Paris to remember?”

You laughed and Yuta felt his chest weaken by the sight of your smile.

“You owe me big time..”

Yuta’s teeth twinkled. “We gotta run, ready?”

He took your hand and the two of you hustled to the entrance of the Eiffel Tower.

His fans ran after you two while you laughed and held onto each other tightly.

Everything happened in slow motion, the two of you moved like runaway lovers, chaos surrounded you but it didn’t matter, for you had each other. You looked over to see Yuta’s goofy smile.

The tour guide at the entrance was able to quickly let you in and close the door behind you to stop anyone else from following.

You found the elevator and got on.

Once at the top, you let go of Yuta’s hand to walk around and see the magnificent view. A million tiny lights decorated the streets of Paris. It was darker outside now, but you could still see the large crowd that surrounded the tower start to dissipate.

They looked like ants below you, slowly dispersing from the ants nest to get more food.

You were so stunned by the view, you didn’t notice that Yuta was watching you, your eyes gazing in amazement, your hair blowing softly in the wind and your bright smile that made even the moon seem bleak.

“y/n..” he called your name. There was something he wanted to see.

You turned to look at him over your shoulder.

“Yeah?”

And there it was. The pose from the portrait. You glancing over your shoulder so intensely. Your eyes large with wonder, your lips full and slightly parted, your hair shining in the moonlight. You are beautiful, Yuta can’t describe it, but he knows he is happy to be able to see an artwork come to life.

“Yuta?” You turned to him full and walked over. “What’s wrong? You’re staring again” you giggled.

“I’m happy.” Yuta smiles and looks down at you.

“Well, we’re in Paris at the Eiffel Tower! Of course you’re happy.” You chuckled and turned to look out at the city from a different angle, but Yuta took your hand in his and spun you around.

You tripped and fell onto his chest before looking up into his eyes.

“No...I’m happy because I’m with you.”

He whispered and your body felt weak. Luckily, he was holding you up so you could balance yourself.

He held you close and looked onto your lips which were just a few inches from yours. His breath slowed to match yours, you look into his lips and swallow hard.

“Y-Yuta.”

He leaned forward, placing a small kiss on your lips. Your eyes closed, his kiss made you feel like fireworks had been set off right there in your chest. It was magical even though it only lasted for a second.

Yuta was nervous, he wasn’t sure if you were ready. You held his head in your hands and looked into his eyes.

You then kissed him hard while tilting your head to the side. Yuta finally relaxes in your hands and kisses you back, opening his mouth so that he could lick your top lip.

His lips were fluffy and felt exactly like how you imagined them to feel. Silky, smooth. Even as he pressed harder, you couldn’t help but feel fragile like you’d collapse at any moment, your legs threatening to give out at any moment.

Soon, your tongues found each other and playfully danced while you struggled to keep your breathing stable.

Time slows down once again as you kiss for what feels to be days.

Yuta draws small circles and lines on your back as he pushes your body into his more. He wants more, so much more. He wants to feel you everywhere, and he can’t get enough of your touch, the way your dainty fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck.

But you have to pull away to breathe.

“Wow..you could’ve gone on for days, couldn’t you?” You try to catch your breath as you look up at him.

Yuta smirks. “I’m a singer, it’s called breath control.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’S cALleD BrEATh coNtRoL.” You mocked him.

The two of you laughed. Yuta took your hand to guide you to a table that had been set for the two of you.

It was weird being so high above the rest of the world. But you liked it. It was just you and Yuta. Nothing else. There was no Ashley, no fans, and no drama.

Yuta rubbed his reddened lips with two fingers.

“Let’s hurry up and eat..I want to finish what you started.”

“What I started? Sir, I recall you being the one that started that kiss!”

“Nah you gave me those eyes..” Yuta was teasing you again.

You rolled your eyes and sat back in your chair.

When you finished eating, you looked into the city again and felt an internal peace. There was something so comforting about being away from the madness. Yeah, your life wasn’t what it was two months ago, but you sure as hell felt all the madness was worth it.

Getting Yuta was worth it.

You leaned forward, placing your jaw on your hands.

“What are you thinking about?

Yuta watched your eyes searching the city again. The moonlight and single candle lit on the table brought out your smooth skin even more, as well as the outline of your nose and lips. He could watch you all night.

“I like the view,” you answered softly.

“You do?” Yuta’s brows raised.

“Yes..” you nodded.

“You’re my best view..” Yuta smiled widely.

You blushed. “Ehh.. I don’t know about that line.”

“Okay how about this one?

“I wish you didn’t have a name..so I could call you mine?” Yuta leaned forward to match your pose and place his head on his hands.

“Oh no..it’s getting worse.” You held your face in your hands, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise. You’re both a little tipsy from the alcohol you had at dinner.

“Are you from Paris? Because Ei-FELL for you..” he smirked and took your hands in yours so he could see you blush.

You laughed and melted into your seat. “Oh God, Yuta make it stop.”

“Okay, okay I’ll stop..but before we leave, I have something to give you.”

You sat up straight and gave a puzzled look.

“I’m sorry again about your grandmother’s necklace. I tried..I even called up your hacker friend YangYang for help, but he couldn’t find it either..I’m so sorry. I know I can never make up for that.”

Your face straightened and you blinked slowly as the reality settled in that you would never see your grandmother’s necklace again.

“But..I did get you this..I hope her memory can still live on through this..”

Yuta reaches into his pocket and hands a small box. When you open it you find a gold necklace with a shining stone surrounded by small pearls as the pendant . The resemblance between it and your missing necklace is strikingly similar. Your mouth falls open.

“My grandmother’s necklace was the only one of its kind...how..how in the world did you find this?”

You looked closely to see that the one difference was the stone in the center.

“I searched online and went to a few antique stores and met this strange lady..what was her name again? Was it Celeste or Cerulean? Hmm..wait! It was Cyan! Yeah I showed her a picture and she found it in her store for me.”

“Yuta..that’s amazing.”

And that’s when you realized what the color of the center stone was. It’s not purple, nor red. Not pink, nor magenta..no it’s..fuchsia.

Yuta was your soulmate..that’s why your things were disappearing. The universe was pushing you to him. You were destined to meet and fall in love. How could you  not realize it sooner? That’s why you felt this undeniable pull towards him.

“What’s wrong?” Yuta grows concerned when he sees your eyes start to tear up.

“Nothing..nothing..it’s perfect, Yuta.” You decided not to tell Yuta because you couldn’t really explain it. Things were finally falling into place and you just wanted to spend time with him, for you didn’t know if you’d have the chance to be with him again..in this universe..or in another one.

“Let’s go home.” Yuta kneeled down and wiped your tears with his finger.

————

Yuta helps you out of the limo once you get to your luxurious hotel. He had the driver take you to a back entrance so his fans wouldn’t see the two of you.

“Thank you.” You let go of his hand and are about to start walking but Yuta grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder. You yelp out in surprise. Your ass is in the air as you dangle over him.

“Ahh!! Yuta!”

“Shhh we came through the back for a reason.” Yuta chuckles then gives your ass a hard smack with his hand.

“Ahh! Damn it, Yuta!”

You lay out a string of curse words as Yuta gets into the elevator. He only smiles while strangers stare and wonder what in the world is going on.

When you get to the room, Yuta flips you from his shoulder and onto the bed. You plop down and feel your body bounce back up from the plush mattress.

“I swear to-“ you start but Yuta leans down over you, attacking your lips as soon as you open them to make some snarky comment.

He liked hearing you talk back to him, but he liked kissing you even more.

You lick his bottom lip, then kiss his lips again, enjoying the way both of your lips grow wet from each other.

He was just as playful with his tongue, letting it place kitten licks on the soft surface of your lips, he kissed softly, teasingly. It was almost ticklish. You felt your chest rumble.

You closed your eyes and traced your hands up Yuta’s back, pressing him into you more.

The bitter taste of alcohol stayed on your lips and your head felt light, you both felt like you were getting drunk all over again.

Yuta presses into you more, running his hands along your sides before holding your face as he guides the passionate kiss.

You pushed your body upwards and grinded onto Yuta, feeling his member poke through his jeans. You placed a finger into his belt loop, pulling him downwards. You then wrapped your legs around his waist and crossed them over his back to bring his body closer to yours even more.

Yuta took the hint and pushed into you slowly, grinding his covered member against your covered, but increasingly wet entrance.

You moaned into his mouth when you felt him press onto your weak spot teasingly. You trembled under him, hands shaking as they clawed at his back lightly.

It felt like a bouquet of flowers were slowly opening up in Yuta’s chest. You were the most beautiful melody, the graceful echo of godly chords being played in a church organ, you were the angelic singing heard all the way from heaven. That’s what you felt like to Yuta. And he had to write about you, he had a hundred songs already in mind to write about you.

He prayed that you wouldn’t stop kissing him this time, that you wouldn’t have to pull away to breathe.

He didn’t know that you felt the same way, that he felt like a day at Disney that you didn’t want to end. He felt like a birthday surprise happening over and over and over. He was the glass of water after a long run. He made you feel euphoric just from an embrace like this. With the two of you finally being alone together, it was like the stars had collided to create something so beautiful, extraordinary and new.

But still, you were scared. Now that you found your soulmate, would he disappear? What if this was your last night in this universe? You couldn’t remember anything about your life before, but you knew that you were somewhere else before all of this.

And could something this good last? Were you really away from all of your troubles?

You were deep in your thoughts and without realizing, you kissed Yuta so hard, you accidentally bit his bottom lip.

Yuta pulled away. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” He rubbed the blood from his lip, eyes growing wide.

“N-no, Yuta..I’m sorry. It’s just..” you swallowed hard then licked your lips.

“What if..this is it? What if we won’t be together after tonight?”

You played with the collar of his shirt to distract yourself.

Yuta tilted his head then placed his hands on either side of your head to hold himself up.

“y/n..I don’t plan on letting you go..ever. You make me feel..” Yuta didn’t know how to describe it either.

“Amazing.” But that wasn’t enough, it was much more than that. So much more. No word in the entire dictionary could suffice for the feeling he had.

“And if the universe allows..It won’t be the last night. It’ll just be the first of many.” He gave you a wink. “What do you say? Let’s give it a try?”

You nodded and licked your lips.

“And uh..how far do you want to go because I..” Yuta looked down at your linked bodies.

You blushed when you realized what he was looking at. It was the outline of his member sticking out in his jeans and aiming towards the apex of your legs.

You thought about the chances of this being your first and last night together, and knew you wanted to experience it with Yuta. If just kissing him made you euphoric, how would making love feel?

You nodded. “I want you to make love to me Yuta, love me like it’s the last time.” You rubbed his flexed biceps and he grew weak. The combination of your gentle touch and doe eyes while those sweet words left your mouth made him feel like he’d lost all feeling in his legs.

“It won’t be the last time, but it will probably be the best time since we’re in the city of romance. Don’t expect too much from me when we do this again, okay?”

You nodded, giggling as you held his belt again. He glanced down at your hands as they fiddled around.

He chuckled then looked back up at you. “Is your name Paris, because I think my Eiffel Tower belongs in you?”

“Yuta!! I swear to G-“ you started again, but he quickly placed his mouth on yours, taking the air as it left and circling your top lip with the tip of his tongue.

You both ran out of patience, taking each other’s lips in between your teeth. You shimmy out of your jacket and Yuta tosses it to the side. You tug the hem of his black t-shirt and help him take it off over his head, his hair becoming rustled in the process but it gives him a cute, messy look. You can’t help but laugh.

Yuta smirks and rubs his hands up and down your thighs while gazing into your eyes, pressing into the soft squishy skin to massage them.

You bite your swollen lips, knowing that he’s watching your chest rise up and down under him.

“I could stare at you all night.” He whispers.

“I know..but I want you to make love to me first.” You say as you start to unbutton your blouse.

Yuta watches your fingers play with the buttons, allowing for several inches of your skin to be revealed each time. He licks his lips but waits for you to finish and reveal yourself to him, gripping the crook of your knees while he waits.

“Yuta..” you breathlessly call out his name before biting your lips. Your voice makes him dizzy, he wants to hear you say his name over and over again like a broken record, because you just sound so..heavenly. No song could compare.

He leans forward, placing his hands on yours and gripping the bow separated fabric. And it’s like he’s opening his curtains to see a bright, sunny day after a scary thunderstorm.

He opens it slowly, staring at the small space between your breasts that he wants to decorate so badly.

You stare at his neck and then his abs, all the places you want to kiss passionately while listening to his low groans.

Yuta takes the sleeves of the shirt down your arms, his fingertips lightly touching your skin but still leaving an intense rush flowing through your veins.

You lock eyes as he tosses it to the side with the jacket.

He lowers his head to your chest and breathes over it, leaving a steamy breath over your nipple. You shiver under him and let out a moan.

“Yuta..” You arch your back, desperate to feel him on you. Having him inches away from your skin just isn’t enough, especially when he’s shirtless and daunts his stunning body over yours.

But Yuta doesn’t respond. He licks your nipple and looks up to see you tremble once again. He can feel the response from your body under him even though he’s not touching you.

“Please..” you put your hand onto his back and rub it softly to push him along.

He kisses in between your breasts, then sucks hard, biting the skin to leave a mark.

You cry out his name again, this time, your fingers going through his thick hair as he moves on to suck your nipple.

He presses his tongue firmly and flat against it, then pleases a sloppy kiss onto it.

He massages your other breast while his mouth continues to work on the first, sucking hard so he can hear you say his name once again. He circles around the areola with the tip of his tongue at a pace so slow, you start to go insane. He then flicks the tender tip with his tongue as you throw your head back and moan.

You push your body upwards but Yuta pulls away. As expected, he teases you, wanting to draw this moment out for as long as possible.

“Yuta..please touch me.”

He looks into your large eyes as you beg, but then he looks down to your breasts and isn’t satisfied so he pays attention to the other breast, switching between gentle and firm sucking. Your moaning gets louder and louder, and you’re happy that Yuta paid for the suite that takes up one floor.

His large hand cups your breast, his fingers pressing into the skin and pumping it slowly.

His plush lips kiss everywhere, lighting fires of feeling across your sensitive skin.

Yuta then starts to grind down into you. Your opening is still covered by the rough fabric of your jeans, but aching nonetheless. The sudden contact made you jolt upwards. You’re so wet and needy, you’re sure you’re soaking through your jeans at this point.

Yuta quickly drags your jeans down your legs, you start to kick them off and let it fall to the floor.

“You’re so wet, baby.” Yuta stares at your soaked panties and smiles.

He retakes his position, placing his hands on either side of your head again, and sucking on your nipple.

This time he sucks harder, humming as he grinds down into you to hear you whimper loudly. The vibrations allow for a tingling sensation to echo through your skin, you feel lightheaded, your jaw locking, and your vision fading.

“Yuta!”

You say before releasing. Your grip on his hair tightens as he continues to suck on your skin while you cum. You moan loudly and breathe heavily..you slowly start to come back to Earth.

“Oh, you’re loud..but I like that.” Yuta gives you a wink then runs his fingers over your underwear.

“I didn’t even touch you and you came.” He says smoothly.

You jerk at the feel of his fingers parting your folds to collect your essence.

“You cocky bastard.” You say breathlessly.

Yuta only smirks as he walks around the bed and to a wall beside it.

“I forgot to show you this..” he presses a button and looks up at the ceiling.

You kneel on the bed and move to the center of it.

The white covering separates from the center, opening up to reveal a window.

Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open when you see the beautiful night sky, dazzled by twinkling stars. And even though it is late at night, you can still see traces of sapphire blue and small, faint lines of indigo.

There’s nothing like it. You can see why Van Gogh painted Starry Night.

“So we’re gonna fuck in front of the stars?” You ask bluntly, gaining a loud chuckle from Yuta.

“I promised to give you the best night you’ve ever had so..yes.” His eyes squinted when he laughs again.

“Yuta..this is..”

“Amazing? Legendary? Extraordinary? Yeah I know” he put his hands on his hips as he watched you gaze.

You roll your eyes and turn to him. “Come here..”

You head over to the edge of the bed and get on your knees. Yuta walks over to you, watching your hands unhook his belt and tug his jeans down.

You lean back and fall into the center of the bed while waiting for him to kick off his jeans and get on the bed.

Yuta nearly trips and falls as he struggles to take his jeans off while watching you. You start to take your panties down your legs but Yuta stops you.

“No! I wanna unwrap the present.”

“Ugh, you’re so weird.” You hold your face in your hands again.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Yuta grabs your ankle and squeezes hard.

“Oh!” You yelp out at the pain and look down at him, watching as he crawls over your slowly on the plush bed.

He takes the waistband of your panty in between his fingers and slowly drags it down while looking into your eyes. Your heart starts to race again. He’s so close to your wet and needy entrance, but you feel the sharp, icy slap of cold air once you’re exposed.

“Beautiful..” Yuta adores your naked body below him.

He traces his fingers on the surface surrounding your folds, just pressing shy of them to make you writhe.

“Yuta..please.”

He rubs two fingers along your folds painfully slow, using the side of his long fingers to part them.

Yuta retreats his fingers and puts them into his mouth.

“So good.” He breathlessly lets out. He teases your entrance again, his spit and your essence now mixing as he presses nearly perfect circles into your core.

You can feel the knot in your stomach start to build again. Your mouth falls open as you moan.

You arch your back and hold onto the sheets with a grip so tight, you felt your knuckles become white. You look up at the stars and think to yourself how beautiful it is out there. You feel your spirit start to ascend while Yuta plays with your clit.

Your legs start to shake and threaten to close completely as you grow more and more sensitive to his touch.

Yuta uses his other hand to pump then align himself with your opening.

His length glistens with pre cum, the tip red and veins pumping fiery blood through it.

He’s more than ready now and you can’t wait to take him.

“Open up for me.”

You don’t hesitate to spread your legs further apart so your hips align with his.

He leans down and holds himself over you with both hands, looking into your eyes before kissing you enthusiastically, tugging your lip between his teeth so you can call out his name again.

He pushes into you slowly while you kiss.

Yuta drinks in your moan and groans when he feels your silky walls surround him.

He lets go of your lips and buries himself into the crook of your neck. He breathes deeply, pushing into you again.

“So tight, fuck.” He whispers.

You take a deep breath and look at the stars above you to stop yourself from coming already.

He starts to thrust into you again, but you let out a quiet whimper.

“Shit..I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Yuta. K-keep going.”

You rub his back to push him along.

He begins to rub your clit, your mouth falling open into a silent cry.

He pushes all of himself into you then pulls out, groaning once again when he buries himself back inside.

He grinds against your silky walls while holding you close and rubbing small circles into you.

Your heated bodies comfort each other as they are finally connected, working towards the same goal.

Yuta smells like a combination of amber and musk, but feels like a soft blanket during winter, his muscular arms holding your body still while also hugging you in the most passionate embrace you’ve ever experienced during sex.

His heart beat matches yours, his breath attaches itself to your neck. His throaty moans begin to get louder and louder.

Your fingers run through his hair while you whimper.

You’re so close.

Yuta moves faster, harder, pushing into you so hard, the bed starts to move.

He lifts himself from your chest and looks down at you. Your saddened by the coldness you feel between your bodies now but Yuta is so beautiful. His magenta hair now wavy, some strands sticking to his forehead, leftover eyeliner smudging and bringing out the depth of his eyes.

He grabs your ankles, completely enclosing his fists around them before placing them into his shoulders.

He grinds into your entire body at a different angle now, the pressure on your g-spot increasing significantly. “That’s feels good, Yuta..oh my G-“

You start to clench around him, making him groan and push into you harder.

“y/n..” he whispers while looking into your eyes. “You’re beautiful..in every way.”

His surprisingly sweet words make you smile.

You gaze at the stars, but your vision starts to blur. You can’t think of anything but Yuta, the feeling is so amazing, you can’t describe it. To be filled up by him, to be completely enraptured by him, there is nothing like it. The knocking of the headboard against the hotel wall and the sounds of skin on skin brings you to the edge.

You grip the sheets tightly as your eyes close.

They roll into the back of your head and your back arches. The euphoric feeling takes over and you swear your spirit leaves your body for an entire minute.

Yuta fucks you through your high but pulls out and releases onto your belly soon after, experiencing the same overwhelming feeling in his spirit too.

He collapses onto the bed beside you and looks up at the stars, taking your hand into his and squeezing it gently.

You look over at each other and laugh, it’s as if you were both thinking the same thing. How did you climax so hard?

Several minutes pass and you’re about to get up to get a towel but Yuta holds your hand.

“I’ll get it, just relax, baby.”

He comes back with a wet washcloth and gently cleans you up.

“I love you..” he says quietly.

“Yuta..it’s a bit early for that.”

He nods while cleaning up the strings on your belly. “I know..but I can’t shake this feeling. I think you’re the one..I think you’re my..soulmate.”

You’re stunned to hear Yuta speaking like this. If he realized you were soulmates, what would happen now?

“I mean, I don’t know if you believe in that kind of thing, but..”

“I agree, Yuta..I think you’re my soulmate, which is why I’m scared to lose you..good things never last.” You say quietly and avoid his eyes.

“Don’t say that, we’ll be okay..I know we’ll be okay. Just trust me, okay?”

Yuta crawled over you and gave your forehead a light peck.

You made love again then cuddled all night, but when morning came..so did reality.

————

You jump up at your desk, startled by a harsh gust of wind against your back.

What just happened? Where are you? Where is he?

You look around you and see towering wooden shelves filled with books.

How did you end up here?

“y/n? You okay?” You hear a young voice call to you.

You turn to see Charlotte, the 13-year old volunteer at the library.

The Library

Shit. You’re back.

You hold your head in your hands and wail.

Charlotte rushes over to you, hugging you tightly while shushing you.

“Y/n! Y/n! Be quiet! We’re in a library, you can’t be loud like this!”

You sniffle. “I know! But it was so good! I was so happy there!”

“What? Are you talking about your dream?”

That’s all it was..a sweet dream, an imaginative universe you only had a quick taste of...nothing was real now. How on Earth would you find him? You were back to reality.

Totoro walked across the desk and meowed.

You looked at him and pouted.

You knew who you were..a boring librarian that owned a cat named Totoro..but who was Yuta in this universe?

How would you find him?

“y/n?” Charlotte called out to you. “Do you want to go home?”

Several weeks passed and you slowly started to assimilate back into your old life. You googled his name but found nothing, he was nowhere to be found.

You just had to accept that it was a dream, a dream followed by the nightmare of reality.

You hoped that you would find your soulmate again, but you knew the chance was little to none. So you did what you did before. Work, eat, spend time with your best friend and roommate Delilah, sleep, then wake up to do it all over again.

Love didn’t have a place in your life, could you even come to accept a loved other than Yuta? Damn him for giving you a night in Paris to remember.

———

“The true crime section is in row 13.” You pointed to a large sign hanging from above reading “TRUE CRIME NOVELS.” You wondered how anyone could miss it, then again old people were usually the ones that needed the most help when they came to your library.

You turned back around to your returned-book cart that you were taking books from to stack the shelves with. But you noticed that it was now empty.

You were 75% sure that you didn’t put away ALL of the books before turning to help the senior citizen, yet all of them were gone.

All..except for one that had fallen to the floor. It was open  when you picked it up. When you looked at the page that it was open to, you realized that it was a book of poems.

The poem it was opened to read:

She’s like the rain on summer days when the garden needs some nurturing...

She’s like a constellation of stars, oh she’s beautiful, and very gorgeous to me.

But I don’t even know her name, I only see her in a frame, yet her face is stuck in my mind

You squint your eyes, where have you seen this before?

she’s the girl in the portrait

the girl with the necklace

the girl with my heart

but the girl I don’t know

I could give her the world, but it’s not like she needs it from me

She’s a work of art, she’s the only thing I see

The girl with the necklace..

That’s it! It’s Yuta’s song! He wrote this, he’s out there somewhere. Perfect! Now you could track down the author and find him-

But wait.

You looked down to see the author’s name.

The One in the Middle

“Shit. It’s just like him to not put his real name on his work.”

You opened your laptop and immediately went to google.

“Who is the author named ‘The One in the Middle’?” You said as you typed.

Nothing. Nobody knew who he was. Many asked about his other poems, but there were no answers, only fan groups that praised the mysterious writer. ‘No one knows who he is but that adds to his ‘sexiness’ that’s what their Facebook post stated.

And none of his works were posted or published electronically, so you couldn’t ask someone to track his IP address like you did the first time.

You sigh and hold your head in your hands. “Damn it Yuta, why do you make things so difficult?”

It was comforting to know he’s out there somewhere, but you couldn’t help but lose hope. Was the universe messing with you?

———

A few weeks pass again and Delilah decides to drag you to the opening of a new art gallery downtown.  Normally, she’d take her boyfriend with her, but he had basketball practice tonight.

“Thank you for coming with me, y/n! You know my professor, always making us look at other works for “inspiration” I mean, why can’t I just look at works online?” Delilah spoke as you two walked around. She was a musical theatre student, but had to visit an art gallery at least once a week to pass her art appreciation class.

She didn’t see the point in it, but you always had a connection to art that you couldn’t explain. No one in your family was a visual artist. Unlike in your “dream,” your grandmother wasn’t a painter and passed away before you could even meet her.

Nonetheless, color and technique was something you grew to appreciate.

There were about 50 people in the gallery, all high class looking. You felt underdressed in your black turtleneck, black jeans and jean jacket. That’s one thing that you did miss, wearing color all the time like you did in your dream. Now, you were back to wearing black. It was like a metaphor for how you felt. Your colorful and intense world has turned to black.

The only thing that stood out from your outfit was your necklace.

“I’m going to the restroom, I'll be right back!” Delilah skips away.

You nod then walk around a wall in the middle of the room. When you turn the corner, you see..yourself.

It’s the painting from your dream..the one of you slightly turned around. Your necklace is still in it too except..

You step closer and see that it’s different. The stone isn’t ruby anymore, no..

“It’s fuchsia..” you whisper. You glance down to see that the author’s name is The One with Many Friends.

“It’s funny because I was thinking it was more magenta, but you’re right..it really is fuchsia. You’ve got good eyes.”

You slowly turn when you recognize the voice.

Time starts to slow down. You can’t believe your eyes. It feels as though the world has stopped moving and it’s just the two of you once again after so much time.

It was Yuta.

Yuta smiles brightly when you look up at him, he recognizes you right away as you make the same pose you have in the painting.

“Yuta..” the name barely leaves your lips.

“It’s you..y/n.” He walks towards you, pace increasing with each step before taking you in his arms as all of his memories flood his brain. He had seen your face every night in his dreams but he couldn’t remember who you were. He painted you in an effort to figure out who you were, but it didn’t help.

Now finally, he got his answer.

Everything that was missing found its rightful place.

“I read your poem, but you used a pseudonym..again! I thought I would never find you.” You cry into his shoulder while holding onto him tightly.

Yuta smiles and caresses your hair.

“I told you...just trust me, we’ll be okay.”

[its--fandom--darling]

Cover Me Up

Pairing:; Captain Syverson x Fem!Reader

Song prompt: Cover Me Up by Morgan Wallen

Rating: F for Fluffy, hints at Angst. SOFT!SY

By the time that you and Sy got married, you’d lived what seemed like lifetimes together. Being together during numerous deployments, PTSD episodes and therapy sessions made your 6 years together feel like more. But despite the ups and downs, the two of you had come out on the other side stronger. You’d battled the demons, both yours and his as a team and conquered them.

You couldn’t have been more overjoyed to marry Sy, to become a Syverson officially after all these years. The ceremony was beautiful and the reception was fun, but the part that you were most looking forward to was the time after. You and Sy were bone tired and slightly drunk from the festivities by the time you got to your hotel room. You’d be leaving for your honeymoon tomorrow at noon and you were looking forward to passing out in the massive, plush hotel bed with your husband and sleeping off the wine you’d had. Sy had been uncharacteristically quiet on the ride home and once you’d slipped out of your dress, into one of his t-shirts and taken your first full breath of the day, you approached him.

“Sy? Is everything okay?” you ask, softly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his neck.

              He grunts and then turns his head towards you. “Yeah, I’m just nervous, that’s all.”

You furrow your brow, “Why are you nervous? We’ve already gotten through the hardest part of today.”

              He kisses your head, “Cuz I’ve got one more present for you and I’m trying to work up the nerve to give it ya.”

You smile and kiss his jaw. “Baby, you know I’m gonna love anything you get me.”

              He smiles, “I know, alright, let me get it.”

You slip your arms from his shoulder and settle yourself on the bed, tucking your legs under you and pulling his shirt over your knees.

              He shakes his head when he sees and moves towards the closet in the corner. Sliding open the door, he pulls out his beat up guitar case.

You smile and chew at your lip. “Baby, when’d you learn to play?”

              He clears his throat and opens the case, tenderly running his fingers up the neck of the guitar before plucking the acoustic instrument from his case. “Highschool, but I stopped playing for a long time, only just recently picked it up again.”

You shake your head, “I’ve been with you for six years and married you before finding out that you play guitar?”

              He laughs and shrugs the strap over his shoulder before settling onto the thick coffee table. “Like I said, I haven’t played in years, but once I decided I wanted to do something special for ya today, I was racking my brain and I came up with this.” He strums the guitar tentatively taking a  moment to tune it before clearing his throat.

“Oh my god, are you about to sing for me?” You ask, your heart in your throat.

              He gives you a shy smile. “Yeah, bug, I am.”

“Oh, Sy, you know how much I love it when you sing,” you murmur, wetting your lips.

              “Bug, you can’t start crying before I even start to play.

You huff a little bit, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

              He clears his throat again and lets his fingers begin to float over the string, forming the chords with ease.

After the first few notes, you recognize the song and your throat seizes. He’s playing your song, the song that had gotten you through so much, the song that had come to stand as a pillar of everything that you’d been through and how your love for each other could get you through it. You felt a tear run down your cheek and he hadn’t even opened his damn mouth yet.

              Finally, he begins to sing, “A heart on the run keeps a hand on the gun, You can't trust anyone, I was so sure what I needed was more, Tried to shoot out the sun, The days when we raged, we flew off the page, Such damage was done, But I made it through, 'cause somebody knew, I was meant for someone.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat as the tears start to stream down your cheeks, you close your eyes against the tears and let the timbre of your husband’s voice wash over as he goes into the chorus.

“So girl, leave your boots by the bed, We ain't leaving this room, 'Til someone needs medical help, Or the magnolias bloom, It's cold in this house and I ain't going out to chop wood, So cover me up and know you're enough, To use me for good”

              Sy looks up at you and stops, “Bug, are you alright?”

You open your eyes and nod at him, “Please keep going, I’m alright, baby.”

              “you sure?”

You nod, eagerly, sniffling. “I’m sure, Sy. Finish your song.”

              He nods, swallows before resuming the song at the second verse. “I put your faith to the test, when I tore off your dress, In Richmond on High, I sobered up, I swore off that stuff, Forever this time, And the old lover's sing, “I thought it'd be me who helped him get home”, But home was a dream, One that I'd never seen 'til you came along. So girl, hang your dress out to dry, We ain't leaving this room, 'Til Percy Priest breaks open wide, And the river runs through, And carries this house on the stones Like a piece of driftwood, Cover me up and know you're enough, To use me for good”

You watch him closely, never having seen the side of your husband, the musician, watching his face closely, you admired his long lashes and the smooth slope of his nose and the cut of his brow, until you noticed a stray tear as he hit the last chorus. So many memories, good and bad were tied to this song for the two of you and couldn’t help but move from your spot on the bed and slip onto the coffee table behind him to cling to Sy as he finished out the last chorus, his strong voice wavering slightly.

“So girl, leave your boots by the bed, We ain't leaving this room, 'Til someone needs medical help, Or the magnolias bloom, It's cold in this house and I ain't going out to chop wood, So cover me up and know you're enough, To use me for good, So cover me up and know you're enough, To use me for good”

His thick fingers play out the last chords slowly and you tuck your head into his neck, brushing your lips there.

“Thank you, Sy, it was perfect,” you whisper, against his skin. He unhooks his guitar strap and leans forwards enough to free himself from it and then rest back against you.

              “You’re welcome, Bug. I couldn’t think of anything else to give you.”

You shake your head slightly. “This is the only thing that I could have ever needed besides you.”

              “Thank you for loving me even though I’m bull-head most of the time. You’ve treated me with such tenderness in times when I treated you with such anger.”

You pull your face from his neck and press a kiss against his cheek. “And I’d do it all over again if it meant that I’d get this moment, right here, right now with you. I love you.”

              He sighs and turns slightly to look at you. “How’d I get so lucky, Bug?”

You shake your head. “The God Lord and lots of luck,” you tease.

              He rolls his eyes, “Seriously, thought, (y/n/n), I owe you so much.”

“You owe me nothing but our future. The past is behind us, we’ve made it through it so we don’t have to look back. You went through it to get to this moment and we made it. Let’s not relive it. Sy, baby, you can let it go.”

              He sighs and leans back against you as his body relaxes. “I love you, Bug.”

You kiss his cheek again. “I love you too, now, let’s get into bed because I’m exhausted and we’re gonna have a long day tomorrow.”

              He nods, sleepily, but pushes himself to his feet and takes you with him, piggybacking you across the room to the bed. He sets you down gently and strips to his boxers before approaching the bed. “Bug?”

“Yeah?” You ask, already snuggled under the covers.

              “Can we spoon?”

You nod, “Of course, do you wanna be the little spoon or the big spoon.”

              “Can I be the little one tonight?”

You smile at him and lift the blankets, “Of course, come on.”    

              Your massive, bear of a husband, breaks into a sweet grin before sliding under the covers and letting you wrap yourself entirely around him. He heaves a huge Sy as he relaxes into your touch once more.

“Goodnight, Sy,” you whisper against his ear.

              “Goodnight, Mrs. Syverson.”

You smile into his neck and close your eyes. You splay your palm against your husbands chest and let his strong, steady heartbeat lull you to sleep.

 Tagging: @foodieforthoughts thank you for requesting mushy sy @persephone-is-here-omg @angryschnauzer @salimahbicharara-comun @summersong69​ @feralrunaway​ @henrythickcavill​ @hope-to-hell​ @hoeforhenry​ @inlovewithhisblueeyes​ @hell1129-blog​ @cavillryarchive​ @killjoy-assbutt-1112​ @soldatsaleannan​ @madbaddic7ed​ @connieisland​ @poledancingdinos​ @gearhead66​ @tapismyforte​ @maizyistrash​ @cavillsbestgal​ @geralt-of-baevia​

[zotlel]

Fall Into You (M) - 01

pairing: jaebeom x you 

genre: romance, angst, series, eventual smut

synopsis: Your love life has been filled with nothing but bad experiences. Determined to give up on the idea of finding the one you meet a man who is desperate to change your mind and have you see him as more.

word count: 5.0k

This was it, you thought. It was something you had feared for months, something you wanted so desperately to not be true. You felt empty, dead, barren, all the things you told yourself you would never be, yet here you were.

The thought had finally occurred to you as you felt your recent Tinder meetup thrust inside of you. His name was Xavier, a Spanish entrepreneur in his mid-20’s who just so happened to be in town testing a study group on his latest business venture. Yet the only thing this man had come close to doing all night was testing your patience. From his sleaze-ball attitude to the way he aggressively attempted to fuck you. Let’s just say you were grateful he couldn’t see your distasteful facial expression as he took you from behind. 

You were depleted of all emotions in this moment as the man attempted to make love to your empty womb. You didn’t even feel anger or sadness at this point, your body felt like some sort of abandoned amusement park. The rides and attractions were there for everyone to see, they were just void of life. You feared that eventually, a dead body would feel warm compared to yours. The fear for you was so real, so scary, to think that you were just some damaged goods.

You started to feel suffocated from the motel’s disgustingly tacky red satin bed sheets that your head was currently being shoved deeper and deeper into. So you decided to end this God-awful encounter early. Sitting your body up causes the poor Xavier to lose his rhythm effectively allowing you to overtake power and position his dumbfounded body beneath you. Luckily the man lasted about as long as you had the capacity for, he gripped your hips tightly, possibly leaving a bruise, causing you to at least enjoy one sensation that night. 

Once the man had finished he attempted to grab your naked form in one could only assume to be a cuddle, you had absolutely no capacity to even humor the idea. Feigning an early morning you quickly gathered your things and headed directly for the door, not so much as even pretending to want to see him ever again. 

The walk of shame. 3 AM, unknown neighborhoods, brisk weather, and a clearer state of mind all accompanied you on your walk home. You officially felt at a total loss with yourself. You had tried the relationship thing, the casual dating, and now here you were attempting one-night-stands, and yet nothing helped you feel complete.

“If only he could see me now,” you say quietly to no one in particular.

Morning light hits you like a bucket of cold water. Apparently in your self-loathing state last night you completely neglected to change out of your cocktail dress and close your blinds. You groan audibly pulling your plush pillow to cover your head from the obscene light. The damage had already been done, you were now officially awake and forced to begin your day.

Dragging yourself to your bathroom you start by turning the shower to the hottest temperature possible and begin to strip from your attire. The woman staring back at you in the mirror is one that you had unfortunately been well acquainted with recently. With the smudged raccoon eyes and red nose that had broken through last night’s foundation, she was an absolute mess.

You scrub and scrub your body under the hot water as if it were some kind of remedy for the way you felt inside. No matter how raw you made your skin you still couldn’t erase the emptiness you felt throughout your core.

That is enough, you think to yourself. Enough of this vile attitude that you had towards yourself. Did you really need to remind yourself daily about what an amazing life you had? A great job, amazing friends, and a beautiful apartment in which you shared rent with a great roommate. Had you really stooped low enough in your womanhood that you would consider yourself empty just because you lacked the place of a man? Your mother would be so disappointed if she could see you now.

You had grown so tired of these men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close to you, their breaths thick with alcohol. Men who didn't come to the emergency room with you, men who left you alone on Christmas. Men who slammed their bedroom doors, who made you love them then changed their minds. You decided you would no longer let this gender be oppressive, you were a warrior.

“Well someone got in late last night,” your roommate, Sofie, called to you over her morning coffee. You had just made your way down to the kitchen in need of caffeine to help break through your early morning fog.

“Please don’t remind me,” you say to her as you begin searching for a clean mug.

“What? Did you not like this guy? Was he not good in be-”

You cut her off promptly by slamming the cabinet door, yourself being surprised by your own actions you turn to face her. 

“I’m sorry I just really don’t feel like talking about it.”

Sofie nods her head in understanding instantly making a pool of guilt form in your stomach from the way you acted. This aggression was a new thing of yours that you had yet to get used to. Rage had begun to take a grip on your life, and on your friendships. You never wanted to be this way. It sickened you to imagine you would have ever become a person to hurt a close friend of yours because you couldn’t contain the fire that you felt inside.

“I’m really sorry Sofie I didn’t mean to snap it’s just-” your words stop as Sofie patiently waits. 

“Last night was hard because it made me realize,” you take a big breath, “I am broken.”

“Sweetie you are not broken! You have just been burned, badly might I add, and you are having a hard time coming to terms with it that’s all.”

Is that all? Could Sofie finally have cracked the code that all of this just so happened to stem from one incident? There was no way you could allow this to be true. You were not just a victim who gets to bear her scar for the rest of the world to see. Your story would not end like that.

“No Sofie, you don’t get it, when I say that I am broken I am really not looking for sympathy,” her back straightens at your serious expression. “I just mean that I am giving up on relationships, all kinds of relationships with men, for now.”

“So no more dating?” You shake your head to confirm. “No more hookups?”

“When I say no more. I mean it,” you say with an icy tone.

“I don’t think that is such a bad idea,” Sofie begins. “I think you may just need to take some time before you go out again, learn about yourself, love yourself. Y’know all that shit that Teen Vogue used to tell us.”

You laugh at this, your roommate was a sweet girl, older than you but innocent enough. You envied her star glazed eyes when she talked about love and romance. Her heart was so pure and untainted, you hoped that she would never change, you prayed that she would never know. 

“I think you may be right Sof.”

“Right about what?” 

In the most perfect of moments Sofie’s boyfriend, Jake, comes down the stairs to join in on your impromptu counseling session. Jake and Sofie were long-time boyfriend and girlfriend since your guys’ days in college. They were each other’s first everything's, love, relationship, they had even lost their virginities to one another. The first day the two of them had met during your study session you could see it happen, the sparks. And throughout the years you were able to watch their love bloom and unfold.

“Oh you know the usual, my life is fucked,” you joke responding to Jake’s question.

“What fucking men with no feelings is finally getting old?” Jake says.

“Ouch, you don’t have to be so harsh,” you respond back to him in which he just shrugs you off. 

Sometimes you wondered how a person as blunt as Jake managed to win over the tender-hearted Sofie. Jake reaches above Sofie’s head to grab his own mug for coffee while pressing a kiss to her forehead causing her face to flush with joy. Some couples just couldn’t be scrutinized, Jake and Sofie just worked.

“Hey, you’re still gonna come with us to Dominic’s New Year’s party on Friday, right?” Sofie asks you.

“That depends, will Dom stay far away from me for the entirety of the night?” you respond back.

“Oh come on, he’s really not all that bad!” Sofie says making your eyebrows go up in disbelief. “And if I recall correctly you hooked up with him a couple of months ago so you obviously don’t hate him that much.”

“First off, I was drunk,” you begin to feel yourself getting worked up. “Secondly, my heart was just broken, if you haven’t forgotten, so let’s just say my judgment was a little fucked.”

Sofie takes a long sip of her coffee and avoids eye-contact. You turn your body from her and breathe deeply from your nose in order to regain your composure.

“Okay, ladies let’s take it down a notch,” Jake effectively breaks the tension. “Y/N, I would love it if you came to celebrate with all of us. And I promise I will be keeping Dom busy so you don’t have to worry about him.”

“Fine, I’ve never been one to say no to free drinks anyways,” Sofie perks up at your response and excitedly hugs you causing you to smile.

Your workweek drags on leaving you anxious to get absolutely trashed at the upcoming party. You’ve had enough corporate bullshit to make certain that when Friday came no one would even be able to recognize that you played as a stock manager by day. One last sweep of your ruby red lipstick against your lips and your look is complete. Despite the bitter winter air you opted to show skin tonight in your tight black body-con dress. You knew that this look would attract lots of attention, but you didn’t care. You would relish in the way men would stare at you, and then doing something you have become unfamiliar with, you would deny each and every one of them. 

You, Jake, and Sofie all share the same Uber from your apartment to Dominic’s swanky new penthouse. The four of you had all met in college, each of you finding different paths in life yet always keeping in touch. Back then Dominic was a promising young student swiftly on his way to becoming an engineer. Until suddenly he decided to leave school and follow his true passion for cuisine. Now he was one of the most successful restaurant moguls in the city. 

His hard work truly paid off, you thought to yourself as the three of you entered his pristine penthouse suite already packed with people ready to celebrate the new year. The ceilings were high and the interior design was entirely bachelor-esque, true to his lavish lifestyle. Waiters attended to people throughout the room holding silver platters of champagne and the occasional finger-food. The scent in the air was lofty with alcohol and the various types of cologne worn by desperate men looking for a lay. 

“You guys made it!” 

Speak of the devil. Dominic makes his way through the crowd to greet his old friends. The four of you exchange hugs and hello’s but you were more than ready to end the interaction with him as quickly as possible. You look around the room until your eyes land on the small minibar across the living room.

“I need to be drunk,” you yell in Sofie’s ear causing her to giggle and excusing the two of you to the bar being worked by a dashing young bartender. It was a bit of a challenge to remember why exactly you weren’t going to be hooking up with anyone tonight. Until the young Colgate smirk shot you a knowing look. It all came rushing back, you fucking hated men.

Quickly you order a shot for both you and Sofie which she reluctantly agrees to, what a great friend, you think. The burn of tequila crawls its way to your stomach lighting a pleasant fire. You settle on champagne to sip on the rest of the night after taking the beverage from the bartender to promptly end his suffocating stare on you. 

“I’m gonna go find Jake, are you okay here?” Sofie asks you.

“Yes of course I’ll be fine as long as the bartender can keep it in his pants.”

Sofie laughs and hits your arm for speaking so loudly, but you truly didn’t care. You begin to move away from the bar towards the floor-to-ceiling windows exposing the city life below. Upon approaching you can’t help but ogle at the beautiful scenery. The life of the city could be seen even from fifty floors up. The hustle and bustle of people eager to celebrate the new year had mesmerized you along with the mass of skyscrapers glittering against the deep purple horizon.

Once you and Sofie had left to find the bar, Jake and Dominic were across the room talking of old times while Dominic showcased his new apartment. Jake could tell that Dominic was proud in the development of his empire, it was obvious in the way he had to mention price tags on every item in his home. Just when Dominic was about to go on and on about a particular piece of art a man whom Jake had not met before interrupts their conversation by placing a hand on Dominic’s shoulder.

“Jaebeom you made it!” Dominic says to the man while pulling him in for a hug. Dominic, as anyone could tell, had a bit too much to drink tonight, hence the sudden affection.

Jaebeom didn’t seem to mind Dominic, perhaps already familiar with this behavior, he pulls back from the brief embrace and gives Dominic a tight smile. Jaebeom had dark hair that was tucked neatly behind each ear. His ears were littered with silver jewelry while his nose also adorned a single stud. His eyes were set deep giving him a mysterious aura.

“Jaebeom this is my good buddy from college Jake,” Dominic introduces the two while both the men shake their hands in a greeting. “Jaebeom is a photographer, he did all the shots for my new restaurant.”

“No kidding, that’s really awesome man,” Jake says trying to make conversation with the stranger.

“Thanks for saying so, I really appreciate it,” Jaebeom says.

A silence fills the space before Dominic asks, “So did Claire come with you tonight?”

Claire, from what Jake had heard, was Dominic’s newest conquest. She was a hostess at one of Dominic’s restaurants and apparently good friends with Jaebeom. Jake found it odd that Dominic could not work up the courage himself to ask out a girl instead of having someone he hired to be his wingman.

“Unfortunately she wasn’t able to swing her shift,” Jaebeom tells Dominic to which he shrugs in an attempt to seem unaffected. Jaebeom then suddenly turns to Jake.

“I’m sorry if this comes off as too forward, but I couldn’t help but notice the girl you came in with earlier.”

Jake laughs, this wouldn’t be the first time that he had to break it to some poor bastard that Sofie was his girlfriend. She was absolutely gorgeous and he knows that his girlfriend Sofie does garner lots of attention. Not that he feels jealous, he just hates having to break it to these dudes that they stand no chance.

“That would be my girlfriend actually,” Jake says.

“Both of them?” Jaebeom raises his eyebrow quizzically causing Jake to facepalm at the way he is handling this interaction.

“Oh no sorry,” Jake searches the room to see Sofie and you leaning against the bar on the other side of the room. “My girlfriend is the one in the white dress over there by the bar.”

Jake points out the two of you and watches Jaebeom’s eyes follow.

“Oh I see, I was actually going to ask you about her friend.”

Jake sputters the champagne he is sipping feeling caught off guard at the question. If Jake remembers correctly you had completely sworn off men not too long ago. Then again, Jaebeom does look like a nice guy and seems genuinely interested in you. As your friend, Jake feels at a standstill with what to do. Although Jake was harsh in words when it came to you, he always had a soft spot for you. And he knows when you put your mind to something, you do not tolerate when people disregard you. But before Jake can say anything, Dominic beats him to the punch.

“Are you kidding? Y/N is practically fucking anyone that even looks her way these days.”

Now Jake remembers just why Dominic and you never got along. He was a complete asshole to you.

“Hey dude come on, don’t say that shit about her,” Jake comes to your defense.

Dominic raises his hands in surrender while wearing that typical shit-eating grin, “I just call it as I see it.”

Jake begins to become increasingly frustrated with the way that his best friend was being talked about, but he is even more afraid of your image being potentially slandered in front of a total stranger. And perhaps a potential match.

“You know better than anyone that she is going through a lot right now. Besides just the other day she said she had absolutely no interest in dating anymore,” Jake internally cringes at himself for potentially scaring Jaebeom away with that last point, but he really couldn’t let Dominic continue to trash you.

“Oh, Jesus don’t give me that. Ever since she got dumped she has been acting like a complete who-”

“Alright I think that’s enough,” surprisingly Jaebeom beats Jake in coming to your defense by putting an end to Dominic’s drunken rant. 

While listening to Dominic trash you and Jake attempting to defend you, Jaebeom was continually getting more and more upset. It was bad enough that Dominic has just shown himself to be a terrible friend, but now he was going to stoop as low as calling his friend such a derogatory term? 

He thought again about the girl that caught his attention. His eyes were on you the moment you walked through the door. Even with the masses of people in the penthouse, he felt like he was on another world with you, floating distantly away in a turquoise sea. To your beautiful skin, gorgeous locks of hair, and even just the way you carried yourself. Jaebeom had found himself completely enraptured with this complete stranger. And he was not going to let one of your supposed “friends” go on ruining your image.

“It’s not very cool to talk about someone like that when they’re not here to defend themselves. Especially to someone whom they have never even met,” Jaebeom told Dominic with a stern tone.

If Jake was impressed before by this man, his respect for Jaebeom increased even more. If only you were willing to put yourself out there again, he thinks Jaebeom might be a really good change for you. He clearly was a person who stood for what they believed in, and Jake knows how much a person like that could have such a great impact on you.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Jake waves to Jaebeom too stunned to even say anything as he walks off.

“What the hell is his problem?” Dominic starts as Jaebeom leaves, “Does he think that Y/N will blow him with that bullshit Mr. Nice Guy act?”

“You are such a prick, you know that?” Dominic just shrugs off Jake taking a large gulp of his beer.

While roaming throughout the penthouse you would stop occasionally to scope out the room around you. The people, the music, even the drinks were just so mind numbingly dull to you. You thought to yourself either you were truly broken like you thought so earlier that week or you were perhaps just a narcissist. Neither of those options made you feel particularly good about yourself, but if you weren’t going to be the one to say it, who would?

“Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

Over the loud bass of the music somehow you were able to hear the question coming from the man who had just approached you. You turn towards him slightly startled. Only once you turned to the voice you felt your breath leave your lungs. He was handsome, no beyond that, you had seen handsome men before, fucked handsome men, he was something else. There was no word in the English language to describe his looks.

His cheeks were set high on his face along with his straight nose. The dark locks of hair that framed his face rested softly on his moonlit skin. The way he held your eyes with his stare had you almost in a panic until you remembered, you had lost all your patience for men. 

Still, there was no harm in just conversing, your drunken state thought.

“I’m going to have to say no to that one,” you reply back honestly while setting your empty champagne glass on a waiter’s tray. Had it not been for the few drinks you had already you would not have even spared this man a second glance, right?

“Can’t say I blame you,” the man says. “I am Jaebeom by the way.”

He flashes you a tender smile with his perfectly straightened teeth, you quickly tell him your own name hoping to God this conversation could die. Your resolve while standing next to Jaebeom was slowly dwindling. You need to leave his side. Continuing this conversation leads to dangerous territory that not you nor your heart was ready for.

“I’m sorry, will you excuse me? I need to find my friends, I haven’t seen them all night,” you inwardly cringe at your lame excuse. Yet Jaebeom seems completely unaffected, holding his arm out to his side to allow your departure. A man that doesn’t get angry when you deprive him of attention, that was new.

Somewhere amongst the sea of people Sofie appears at Jake’s side effectively easing the growing anger Jake felt towards Dominic’s drunken antics. 

“What were you two boys talking about,” Sofie says sweetly while looping her arm around Jake. Jake knows that if Sofie were to hear the things Dominic had been saying about her best friend, she would have an absolute fit. So he thought it best she didn’t know.

“Oh you know just guy talk,” Jake says smiling.

“My photographer has the hots for Y/N,” Dominic slurs while it takes everything in Jake not to strangle his friend.

“Your photographer? Who is that? I want to see what he looks like,” Sofie replies sounding interested, to which Dominic scans the room before landing his finger on Jaebeom talking with some other guests.

“What really? He is so perfect I have to go tell her,” Sofie tries to walk away until Jake pulls her back.

“Okay first of all, ouch, I am your boyfriend. How can you say a guy is perfect while I’m right here?” Sofie rolls her eyes but let’s Jake continue. “Secondly, wasn’t it just a couple days ago that she mentioned never wanting to date again?”

“Oh come on you know she doesn’t mean that, and besides that guy is so her type. The second she sees him she will forget her hatred of men altogether,” Sofie says.

Jake sighs but lets Sofie go over and tell you about your secret admirer. He didn't appreciate the way people took your words so lightly. Was he the only one listening to you for the past couple months to know that you needed time to heal? Then again Sofie was your closest friend and perhaps she knew what was best for you.

“Okay you are never going to believe this,” Sofie approaches you from behind as you finish off your third glass of champagne.

“Tell me quickly I can feel the alcohol beginning to fog my brain.”

“Literally the hottest guy here asked Jake and Dom about you, they say he is interested in you!”

Through your slightly buzzed state you can still feel the burst of annoyance come over you. You have to breathe deeply through your nose in order to not completely go off on your sweet enthusiastic friend. Did your words a couple days ago mean nothing to her?

“Sofie, like I told you, I am not at all interested,” you tell her causing her excitement to dwindle. “So you can pass along that message to this mystery man too.”

“Oh come on! At least let me show you who it is, you will just die,” Sofie says causing your eyes to roll.

You decide to play along, “Fine show me.”

Sofie excitedly turns both your bodies to the crowd of people, she scans for a minute until she finds the said man, excitedly pointing him out to you. Jaebeom was in the middle of a conversation. The man who was interested in you was him? The guy you completely blew off just moments ago? 

You could feel yourself start to become overwhelmed. First when you started to talk to Jaebeom you began to have these feelings that you had never felt before. The fact that you couldn’t identify them frustrated you and made you want to leave this party. Now come to find out the whole reason he approached you was because he was interested? For reasons unexplained you began to feel the anger turn in your stomach again.

Who did this guy think he was? Was he just someone who felt he was so charming that just a simple greeting would have you spreading your legs for him? You felt so angry with yourself for even faltering for a moment on the resolution you made with yourself. This just proved your theory that all men want the same things from you. How could you be so stupid to think differently? Your head was turning into a swirl of red, clouding your judgement, perhaps the cheap booze was stronger than you anticipated.

It wasn’t until Jaebeom turned his body towards you, locking his eyes on yours. You expected to see the smirk, the smirk that all the men wear on their faces when they just want their dick wet. Instead, he smiled. Not a forced smile, it was genuine, you could feel the warmth of it from across the room. His smile had you faltering. You’ve been with so many men these past few months that you thought you had them all figured out. So why was he so unpredictable? 

For this, the rage overcame you.

With all your might you are able to look away from him and down at the floor. Your chest felt tight, all the air around you had been sucked away as you struggled to get a grip on where you were. Breathing exercises were not going to help you at this point.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sofie looks down at your shaken figure.

“No, I’m not, I think I’m going to leave. I really don’t feel well,” you say as you begin to make your way through people not wanting to let anyone submit to your anger.

Sofie grabs your arm, “It’s almost midnight you can’t leave now!”

“Sofie please, I am being very serious right now. Let me go,” your tone is icy as Sofie draws her hand back in fear.

Taking the opportunity you start your journey towards the exit needing so desperately to get out of the sea of people. Your chest began to heave as you felt the world closing in on you. Tears prodded in your eyes as you clenched your fists. The crowd was suffocating, you felt like you were about to burst, until finally you made your way to the door. You hurried down the hallway to the elevator practically throwing a punch at the call button.

Jaebeom was across the room when he had seen the entire exchange. He noticed your change in expression and then proceeded to watch you suddenly turn to leave the party. Jaebeom had a hard time understanding why, but he felt worried for you. Suddenly he begins to weave in and out of the drunken mass as the countdown from ten begins to be shouted out. He sees only a glimpse of you as you finally slip your way out the front door.

He reaches the door, opening it to find there is no one in the hall, he looks down and sees the elevator doors slowly closing with you inside. He tries to make a run for it, what will he even say when he reaches you? He doesn’t care at this moment, all Jaebeom knows is that he doesn't want you to be alone. 

Running fast towards the titanium doors you look up and catch his eye. Tears can be seen falling down your flushed cheeks. Your eyes were wild and bright as you stared through Jaebeom, making his steps come to a halt. He was shaken by the look in your eyes, so much so that he lets the elevator doors stop him from reaching you.

FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE, HAPPY NEW YEAR!

He hears the party happening behind him. The cheering and laughing as people celebrate with their friends and loved ones. Yet the noise is completely drawn out as Jaebeom thinks of you.

This girl he had only just met, yet he longed for so desperately so.

[be11atrixthestrange]

Waking Up In Vegas Chapter 15

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M.

Ao3 | FFN

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*Six Weeks Later*

[Ron]

The flat is small but well-arranged. Bookshelves line the walls from floor to ceiling, maximizing the vertical space that only one of its residents can fully use. The kitchen is sparkling clean, save for two empty red wine-stained glasses in the sink. Usually, the dishes would be washed and stacked away before the clock strikes bedtime, but last night other, more fun activities got in the way.

The apartment's decor is simple — it has to balance the strikingly orange accent wall behind the television. The only other thing commanding attention is the large painting of a cityscape hanging on the wall across from the entry. It's an artistic rendering of a well-known skyline, characterized by neon lights, a replica of the Eiffel Tower, and a series of flashy hotels. Although the portrait might be recognizable to many, it's meaningful to only a few.

As the morning light peeks through the windows, the bedroom's blinds give up on filtering it out. The sun casts a ray across the pillows, illuminating the two sleeping figures entangled together in bed. Gentle and mild, the light is easier to ignore than an intense desert beam, and it takes a few moments for the tall, red-haired man to open his eyes.

When he does, he turns onto his side to bury his face into his pillow. The bed is warm and comfortable — the satin sheets were a worthwhile investment. Same for the pillow, which somehow maintains the perfect combination of cold and cozy. Ever since they bought a new, albeit expensive mattress, his back problems have become a thing of the past.

He smiles at the mountain of fluffy blankets beside him, topped with spirals of bushy brown locks. There's so much goddamn hair. It looks like a plush volcano of cushions is erupting with curly brown hair. He can't decide what he loves more: the explosion of brunette, the bright orange Chudley Cannons t-shirt, the black mens' boxers that have a little too much fabric for a woman, or the person it all belongs to.

Well, technically, the Cannons t-shirt and boxers are his, or at least, were his. But marriage is about sharing.

"Morning, wifey."

Hermione groans and covers her face with a pillow. "Too early."

Ron slips an arm around his wife, encouraging her to turn toward him. She obliges and snuggles up into the crook of his arm, where she fits perfectly. He presses a kiss to her forehead and nuzzles his head into her hair.

It would be easy to stay like this forever, ignoring real-life responsibilities. In a way, their bed has become an escape from reality, an oasis built upon the lessons they learned in Las Vegas. Defined by frequent 'I love you's, reprieves from work, and late-night explorations fueled by a glass of wine and the need to destress, it's the place that keeps them anchored to the magic. Who wouldn't want to stay forever?

But alas, they can't, as they have Maid of Honor and Best Man duties to attend to. Today is Harry and Ginny's wedding, and within a few hours, they need to transition from the carefree vacationers they became in Vegas to the highly organized planners helping to orchestrate the festivities.

Ron groans. Although their friends know they're together — they put on quite a show back in Las Vegas, after all — they haven't revealed the extent of their relationship, and the worst part about being in public together is pretending that Hermione's just his girlfriend.

"We should just tell everyone," murmurs Ron into Hermione's hair.

She chuckles and snuggles closer. "After the wedding. Let's not steal their thunder."

Steal their thunder. To be honest, Ron has frequently fantasized about stealing Harry and Ginny's thunder. A small part of him is jealous of their hen and stag weekend in Las Vegas and their elaborate wedding. Ron wants everyone to celebrate him and Hermione, and as time passes, he grows more desperate for them all to know.

"I want to steal their thunder."

"I know." Hermione gently pushes him over on his back and slides on top of him. The movement is swift and natural, and as always, she fits like a glove.

"Hmmm, hi," he says right before their lips meet. The kiss lingers; Hermione's teeth lightly latch to his bottom lip, driving him wild. Without breaking their kiss, Hermione shifts some of her weight onto her hips. She knows exactly what she's doing, and if Ron doesn't stop this train, they'll be late.

"Er-my-nee," he groans, pulling away. She pouts at him with her wide chocolate brown eyes, and it's all he can do to resist tangling himself back up in her arms. "Can I ask you a question?"

"What?"

"Do you wish we had more thunder?"

Hermione brushes a tuft of hair from Ron's forehead. "Sometimes. But I still wouldn't change a thing."

Ron smiles as she leans down for another kiss. Her fingers thread into her wild curls, prompting him to flip her over and land on top. He groans when she wraps her legs around his waist.

"You know we don't have time for this," he says between kisses. "We should get rea—"

"Shhhhh." She pulls him into her embrace and tightens her leg lock around his hips. "There's always time."

"Hey!" he teases, then leaning down toward her ear to whisper, "I take offense to that."

Ron doesn't give her time to respond before connecting his mouth to hers for another kiss. He can smell his cologne from the night before on her skin, yet it still tastes like Hermione when his lips travel from her mouth to the nape of her neck. A soft moan escapes her lips and sends him into a tizzy that leaves nothing else to do but get lost in her.

Six weeks in, and he's still convinced he'll never get sick of snogging Hermione Granger.

Plus, she's right — there's always time.

x

Harry and Ginny's wedding is just as elaborate as their weekend of partying in Las Vegas, but of course, classy. The venue is a converted warehouse, which initially horrified Molly, Ron and Ginny's mum, but it's unrecognizable after a few hours of decorating. They tie the knot underneath a trellis of climbing vines and twinkling lights illuminating the exposed brick wall behind them. Cafe lights drape from the ceiling beams, filtering the room's color just enough that everyone appears to glow. Each row of seats is marked by a simple bouquet and a periwinkle ribbon that matches the color of the bridesmaids' dresses, and the aisle appears to have been assaulted by flower petals, courtesy of Victoire, Ron and Ginny's niece, who recently discovered the true strength of her throwing arm.

Ginny has insisted that she and Harry walk down the aisle together as equals. Although originally disgruntled at the pushback on tradition, their father, Arthur, chokes up when he watches the pair approach the altar. Ginny's eyes sparkle with rare tears, and Harry can't keep his gaze off her radiant smile.

They're a couple in love, and there's not a doubt in the room.

Ginny's dress is simple — Hermione had said something about satin, but Ron doesn't remember the details. It's one of those dresses that doesn't dare pull focus from the woman wearing it, not that any dress could. Ron's always resented the Weasleys' fiery red hair and the way it sticks out like a sore thumb, but Ginny makes him think that maybe it isn't so bad after all.

While everyone watches the couple, Ron chances a glance at Hermione across the altar. He can hardly stand seeing her in her periwinkle bridesmaid dress, and he hopes to heaven his gawking isn't too noticeable. When he shifts his eyes in her direction, she turns her head back toward the bride and groom.

She was checking him out, too.

He doesn't have to keep his eyes on her for his imagination to run wild. That periwinkle dress turns white, and suddenly it's Hermione walking down the aisle. Her hair is tucked up into a spiral on top of her head, a few wisps escaping to frame her face.

Since it's his sister's wedding, Ron forces the image out of his mind, but he can't stop a wistful smile from forming on his lips and staying there throughout the ceremony.

When Harry and Ginny arrive at the altar, the music slows to a stop, and the officiant steps out from behind a curtain.

"Well, hello, folks!" says the blonde-haired man in a thick, mumbling American accent.

The wedding guests stare in silence at the man, who's dressed in white from head to toe, a greasy black wig barely covering his blonde locks.

Harry and Ginny burst into laughter, which breaks the seal for everyone else to follow suit.

"Yes! You got an Elvis impersonator!" shouts Fred, Ron and Ginny's brother, from the front row. "Someone check Mum's pulse."

With that, Ron snaps his head toward his mum, whose face has collapsed into her hands. Her body is heaving with what can only be sobs, or…

Laughter. Ron grins when he realizes that his mother's laughing hysterically.

At Molly's outburst, the tension and stuffiness of a formal event dissipate, and the ceremony continues flawlessly, having now been marked by Harry and Ginny's personalities. Elvis speaks to their bond, and even though he doesn't know the couple, he manages to capture how they approach life, always wearing their hearts on their sleeves and marching to their own beat. They've written heartfelt but humorous vows, expertly eliciting laughs and tears from their guests while they read them with shaky hands. They share their first kiss as a married couple to a round of applause and a standing ovation. Emboldened by the support, Harry picks up Ginny and drapes her over his shoulder as he skips back down the aisle to a chorus of cheers and whistles.

The wedding party follows the happy couple back down the aisle, starting with Ron and Hermione. They link arms and lock eyes, sharing a small, knowing smile. Ron wonders if she's also imagining the roles reversed, everyone clapping and celebrating for them as they traipse down the aisle after tying the knot.

What would the pseudo-Elvis have said about them if this were their ceremony, not Harry and Ginny's? Would he have spoken to how they disliked each other when they first met, and the utter disbelief they felt when they woke up next to one another in bed? Maybe he'd have talked about their strong determination to get a divorce and straighten everything out, followed by the looming 'what ifs' that kept knocking. What if they gave it a chance? What if they opened their hearts and it worked out? What if it was meant to be?

Maybe Elvis would have told a white lie at their request, saving their families the heartache of learning that they missed the original wedding, even though Ron and Hermione kind of missed it too.

That would be best wouldn't it? They could hire an Elvis to spin a new love story for their family, so they could keep the real one to themselves—not due to shame, but the simple fact that it's theirs.

Ron can't help but wonder.

Rather than a formal sit-down dinner, the ceremony transitions straight into a party. The delicate set-up of chairs and flowers clears into a dance floor. The doors to the warehouse open to an outdoor deck complete with a buffet and a dessert table, and a crowd forms at the bar.

Tugged away by Ginny, Hermione disappears into the crowd, and Ron becomes absorbed by friends and relatives. He'd rather stick with Hermione, but before he can locate her again, he's trapped in a conversation with long-lost family members. Old cousin Barny, Auntie Muriel and her flavor of the week — a scruffy looking man who introduces himself as Argus, and a neighbor who used to babysit when he was a toddler — he smiles through it all.

"Anyone special in your life, Ron?"

"I noticed the way you were looking at the brunette."

"Is it serious?"

"Should we be marking our calendars for another wedding?"

He deflects the expected questions — the ones that could draw attention away from the happy couple — with suggestive 'maybes' and 'we'll sees' although the truth, or at least a version of the truth, is evident on his face.

Yes, there is someone special. Yes, he was probably gawking at the beautiful brunette. Yes, it's serious enough that they live together.

"You're living together before you're married?" Auntie Muriel chimes in her most dismissive, judgemental tone.

Ron gives her a guilty look, a 'we're already married, you just don't know,' but to her, it's an admission of living together in sin.

"Well, I hope for your sake, she's the one."

"She definitely is," he says, nodding in a way he hopes ends the conversation.

Ron eventually negotiates an escape from small talk and heads to the bar for a slight reprieve. He slides into a seat and accepts a generous glass of champagne from the bartender. One sip reveals just how thirsty he is, and he lets out a satisfied sigh of relief before indulging in the rest of his glass.

"Another?" asks the bartender once he finishes.

"Erm, sure. Thanks."

While the bartender refills his glass, Ron takes a quick scan of the room. He's looking for Hermione, but she's nowhere to be found. His search doesn't last long as a certain someone slides into the barstool next to him and interrupts.

"Thank you for being here," says the dark-haired man beside him. "It means a lot."

"Ugh, not you," groans Ron, but his tone is laden with a touch of sarcasm only his best friend can decipher. "Should I say congratulations?"

"Yes, please," grins Harry. "Even though you've said it a million times."

"Well, you should soak it up because tomorrow, I'm done congratulating you," he says. "So needy."

"Cheers to you too," says Harry, clanking his champagne glass against Ron's.

"I've been meaning to ask you," says Ron, remembering Harry and Ginny's elaborate ceremony. "Why Elvis?"

Harry laughs. "Oh, Ludo? We met him at one of the casinos in Vegas."

"And you just asked him to officiate your wedding?"

"Well, he offered, and we didn't have anyone else," shrugged Harry. "To be honest, we were kind of drunk when we agreed, but Ginny wanted to bring some of Las Vegas into the wedding, so it worked out."

"Well, I liked him. I thought it was brilliant."

"I agree," grinned Harry. "So, will I get to congratulate you anytime soon?"

"Congratulate me for what?"

Harry rolls his eyes, aware that Ron is playing dumb. "Do you think you and Hermione will ever get married?"

"What makes you ask that?" Ron looks over at his best friend, and his expression that's full of excitement. Part of Ron loves that he and Hermione are the only people who know about their marriage. Another part of Ron just wishes he could share it all with his best friend. It doesn't feel right keeping him in the dark.

"You live together and seem pretty happy," continues Harry, oblivious to Ron's internal debate. "I'll admit, at first, I thought you two were moving fast, but you seem well suited for each other."

"After Hermione, you'll be the second person to know," says Ron, grinning at his friend.

"I'll take it!" says Harry. "Can I give you one piece of advice?"

"Sure, mate." Ron can't help but smirk — Harry's been married for barely two hours and is already touting marriage advice. Typical.

"If you know she's the one, don't overthink it. You'll just waste time."

Ron laughs softly. "I don't think that will be an issue for me."

"Good. I'm going to find my wife," says Harry, emphasizing the word like he's trying it on for size. "And you should go dance with your girlfriend. She looks like she could use a hand."

Harry motions across the room to where Hermione and Luna are alone at a cocktail table. There she is. Hermione's stiff body language is a stark contrast to Luna's eccentric gestures, and it appears that Hermione has become an unwilling audience for one of Luna's wild conspiracy theories.

"Happily," mutters Ron as Harry saunters off to find Ginny.

Ron meanders across the room to rescue Hermione from Luna's verbal clutches. Since she doesn't see him approach, he decides to surprise her by sneaking up behind her and looping his arms around her waist.

"Hi, girlfriend," he whispers into her ear.

"Hmmm." She seems to melt into his touch ."Hi, boyfriend."

"Sorry, Luna," says Ron, as he slides a hand down Hermione's arm and interlaces his fingers with hers. "I'm going to steal Hermione away for a dance."

"Of course! Have fun, you two," Luna says before turning around toward the crowd and skipping away, presumably in search of another unsuspecting guest to engage with.

"She's a lot, isn't she?" asks Ron.

"She's not too bad, once you get to know her. She's just talkative, that's all."

Ron tugs Hermione toward the dance floor where a smattering of couples intertwine, swaying to one of the rare slow songs in the D.J.'s repertoire. She wraps her arms around his neck, and he tightens his embrace, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"It's a little weird to call you my girlfriend."

"It sounds wrong," she says, her voice muffled by his dress shirt. "I was never your girlfriend. It's probably how people feel when they first start saying 'wife' or 'husband.'"

"I reckon you're right."

Ron reflects on the first time he called Hermione "wifey." It didn't feel weird at all, probably because it was a joke. Eventually, the joke just turned real.

"Hubby suits you better, anyway," says Hermione. She always seems to know what he's thinking, but he doesn't mind one bit.

"I agree, love." Even now, Hermione can still make his cheeks tinge red with a simple statement. "Are you enjoying the wedding?"

He can feel her nodding against his chest. "Yeah," she mumbles. "Although, it was a lot of work. Are you?"

Ron shrugs. "Ours was better, I think."

Hermione laughs. "I'm sure it was. Too bad we can't remember it."

Out of the corner of his eye, Ron can see Harry and Ginny embracing on the dance floor, surrounded by his grinning family. A spotlight shines on them, and at the sound of clinking glasses, they lock eyes and share a kiss. When they make contact, the bystanders whoop and whistle. "Maybe they should have gotten hitched in Vegas like us. This is a lot of commotion."

"Well, you know Harry and Ginny," says Hermione as she loosens her embrace to glance over at the couple. "They like their parties."

"They do," he says, tugging Hermione back into his arms. "What would you have done if this was your wedding?"

Ron expects Hermione to take some time for her answer, but surprisingly, she has one at the ready. "It would have been smaller. Maybe a live band instead of a D.J. And red velvet cake."

Ron smiles into her hair as she continues.

"I probably wouldn't have had a huge wedding party. Probably just a maid of honor. Intimate rooftop ceremony. I'd write my own vows. I even have photos of my dream dress."

Ron chuckles. "You have it all planned out."

"I never really planned it, I just knew." She's smiling when she pulls away and meets his eye, but her smile fades into a frown. "But seriously, I wouldn't change a thing."

She must have interpreted his pensive look as disappointment. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Let's plan it."

"Plan what?"

"Our rooftop wedding," he says as the color pink creeps up his neck.

"Ron, we're already married." Despite her deadpan tone, there's a twinkle in her eye and a soft smirk hiding behind her lips.

"Then let's get married again."

She narrows her eyes at him, and Ron can almost see the gears turning inside her head. "You don't think that would be a waste of time and money?"

"No. Not at all. Plus, I couldn't stop picturing you walking down the aisle today, and I'd love to see you in your dream dress."

She leans back and stares at him for a few moments, clearly running questions through her mind. When she finally speaks, her eyes are glassy with held-back tears, and a smile lifts her words. "You're serious?"

"Hermione Granger," he states in his most serious tone. "Will you marry me again?"

Their feet stop moving, and she bores her gaze into his. Her answer is swimming in her eyes, but he waits for her to verbalize it. "Of course I will. I'd marry you every day."

Ron barely has time to smile before she's pressing her lips against his. He responds so enthusiastically that it could very well be their first or thousandth kiss, lifting her gently off her feet. They're probably drawing attention to themselves, but Ron doesn't mind. It's like she's the only person in the room.

That seems to happen a lot.

Ron sets her back down and slides his hands down her arms, landing at her unadorned fingers. He rubs a thumb across her left hand, desperately wishing he had brought the ring. He didn't think to bring it to the wedding.

The ring — a modest emerald-cut solitaire in yellow gold, is still safely stashed in his bedside drawer, hidden by a few football magazines. He had a whole plan that didn't include a quiet proposal at someone else's wedding, but sometimes the best things in life are accidents.

"I have a ring, you know."

"You do?" she asks, her eyebrows raised. "You planned this?"

Ron laughs. "Well, sort of. But I wasn't planning on asking you tonight. Didn't want to steal anyone's thunder."

"When were you going to ask?"

He had it all planned out. A surprise candlelight dinner at their flat. A homemade cocktail — his best attempt at Liquid Luck. Slow-dancing in a dimly lit living room, furniture pushed against the wall to make room. Dropping to one knee in the middle of a dance. Strawberries and whipped cream. It would have been perfect.

But this is perfect too.

"I was going to propose six months in. Since that's when you can finally divorce me if you want to—"

"Right. Divorce," she scoffs. "When did you buy the ring?"

Ron averts his gaze when he answers. He hasn't planned on telling her this part. "In Las Vegas."

"That early?" she asks, her tone suspicious.

He nods.

"You knew you wanted to stay with me?"

"Of course, I did. Didn't you know, too?"

She smiles and answers him with another kiss. This time it's slow and loving, taking its time. Their bodies seem to melt together into one.

"That would have been so sweet," she says when they eventually break free.

"We can stick to the original plan if you'd prefer that—"

"No!" Her eyes widen as if she's afraid he'll take it back. "When have we ever followed plans?"

Ron grins. There it is — that spontaneous Hermione that only he gets to see. "And you were worried 'Vegas Hermione' would disappear completely," he says, tucking a hair behind her ear.

"I guess she's here to stay," says Hermione as she nestles her head into the crook of Ron's neck where it fits so perfectly. "I love you so much, Ron."

"I love you more, fiance."

Ron can't help but wince at her new title. 'Fiance' sounds just as odd as 'girlfriend,' and it'll only be true for a small fraction of their lives together — not enough time to get used to it.

"I still like 'wifey' better," she says as though reading his mind.

He does too. "Then I guess we have another wedding to plan."

"I guess we do," she says. "And what about our real wedding? Do you want to tell people?"

"Should we?"

"No," she says before securing her arms around his neck. "That wedding can stay ours."

Ron smiles as his lips meet hers. The desire for everyone to know is still there, but less so. They'll get to celebrate a 'real' wedding together, their guests blissfully ignorant of Ron and Hermione's little secret. It's a perfect plan, really.

Someday they might reveal the truth. They might let it slip in conversation, or accidentally admit it to Harry and Ginny after a few cocktails, or decide to tell their future children.

But until then, their original wedding can just be theirs.

*THE END*

[lil-scout-precure]

My own selves (Autism Awareness Month post). First Part

Sometimes, I imagine things like: How do people see me? What's the perspective anyone else has about me when I do something? I sometimes imagine that my own identity has a special shape, representing me.

However, as my mind started to develop a kind of coexistence between two of my hyperfixations likings since the Rio 2016 Games, I would say that, as both of those worlds are WAY different one from the other (One is a world full of cute and agile sport beings who like people and wouldn't hurt anyone (unless by accident or against a villain); the other is a universe of gigantic ancient or alien beings who would be either your gentle giant fella, a neutral planet guardian or the unmatched destroyer of worlds), my mind would have two versions of itself, as my identity forms. Those who, apart from being the tokens of my own passions, also fit to represent parts of what I wouldn't accept before, but now I embrace and see that it just became part of me: my place on the Spectrum.

And I will start explaining them, as a post for this special month:

This would be the youngest but most present of my two own selves. An Olympic and Paralympic mascot hybrid creature. Mixing three of the pairs I liked: Wenlock and Mandeville (London 2012), Vinicius and Tom (Rio 2016), and Miraitowa and Someity (Tokyo 2021/20); it's a school backpack-sized being who, despite its cute looks and friendly appearance, it can fight back when necessary.

What she would represent on me and my ASD?:

Mainly, the recent liking I got for sports mascots, let them be mostly Olympic and Paralympic ones, since the 2016 Games. While I started appreciating FIFA and UEFA mascots these last years, they were not the first ones who made me like this topic. Vinicius and Tom were the main responsibles of her birth.

Masking: As mascots were the bridge between me and most of my friends I met because of them, she is the responsible of my mental attempts and methods to emphatize with people. She acts like a mascot would do: listen to its friends, try to make them smile or at least help them as it can. And so do I, adapting to my classmates' points of view, even if faking it, to at least blend with them.

Appreciation for cute or nice things: Since mascots are cute beings, who wouldn't enjoy having a plush of them, if not watching a fanart or their animated shorts? And if not being their official presentations, what about things that remind me of them? Dogs, cute drawings, music...Anything counts. However, this brought a disadvantage: Like a late-bounce effect, some things and topics that I didn't notice and didn't care (or laughed at) about started to upset me. Bad and harmful things people suffer, those that you would wish only happened in movies and any shape of fiction, and yet they occur as the daily bad news on your TV and reality itself, with real victims. While this form acknowledges one can't change those events as he or she wishes and not accepting them would be like covering the sun with a finger, she sometimes feels like she's the culprit of making my empathy, while being healthy on new friendships and bonds, go too far until feeling what does the suffering character of a movie or cartoon do, mostly if it reminds of me.

Lots of knowledge from small facts: A snowball effect. Once she incites me to like a cute new mascot, there's the possibility both start learning more about the world it belongs to: Its creator and style. The country or city it is a symbol for, and the period of time the event occured into. The Games or Cup it represents: from ceremonies and special sport events to mere facts like the logo or their thematic vision/mission. She knows Usain Bolt had his last Olympic Race because of Vinicius' presence during one of his marathons. She knows about the Daidalas because of Athena and Phevos. She knows about the Ichimatsu art style because of Someity and Miraitowa. The list would go on for years.

Being the youngest of the duo, despite her friendliness and masking aura, she is still developing her abilities, and is not the leader of my mind. She would be powerful, but she wasn't the firstborn of the two identities. Someone else took that spot.

And you will see who did it at the second post

[haikyuu-appreciation-club]

•Closer to You•

Sugawara x Reader

warnings: like one curse word

genre: fluff

word count: 1.8k

Just an fyi, this oneshot was written for one of my friends and modified so that anyone could enjoy sooo if there are some parts that you don’t relate with i apologize, lets just try and use our imaginations pls + ty. anywhooo enjoy lovelies <3

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You and Sugawara had been dating for a little while now but hadn’t really gotten the opportunity to have a proper first date. Both of you were busy with school and extracurricular activities so your schedules didn't really allow any room for spending time with one another. You knew Suga felt bad so you constantly tried to reassure him that you were content with the current flow of your relationship. However, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss his company. You supported him whole heartedly. Always showing up to all of his games no matter their importance and cheering for him no matter how much time he spent on the court. Even so, despite the swelling pride you felt in your heart as you watched him pursue the sport he loved so dearly, you couldn't help but wish you could steal more of his time. 

Despite you painting that pretty smile on your face and telling Suga that you were fine, he knew better. To be completely honest he missed you too. He loved volleyball but he loved you so much more. He had been in love with you for years now but only recently had he been able to muster up the courage to confess. Never in a million years did he expect you to accept his confession so when you did he was stunned to say the least. None the less, he was over the moon that you reciprocated his feelings, but it seemed that ever since you two made it official, time was not on your side. This is why he proposed that this weekend you would have your first official date. You two weren’t big on things like dinner dates and long walks on the beach so you decided to have a little movie night at Sugawara’s house. You both were very excited that you would finally have the opportunity to just be in each other’s company without the stress of messing up anyone’s schedule. 

Saturday rolled around and you walked up to the door of Suga’s home. His parents had gone away on a business trip so you two had the house to yourselves for the weekend. You knocked on the door and eagerly waited for an answer, bouncing from one foot to the other. The door was pulled open, letting out a small creak in the process, allowing your eyes to meet the beautiful hazel ones you were so familiar with. You didn’t allow him time to properly greet you, already wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into your embrace. He wrapped his arms around your waist and chuckled. While still holding onto him you allowed yourself to address him, a smile evident in your voice, 

“Hi Kōshi!”

“Hey Y/N, you ready to get this movie marathon started?”

You pulled away from him as you smiled and nodded your head. He grinned and intertwined your fingers with his, pulling you inside and towards the couch. You sat down on the plush sofa, moving yourself into a position that was comfortable for you while still leaving room for Suga to get cozy as well. Suga threw you the remote as he walked to the kitchen. You cocked your head at the now empty door frame and began to project your voice to be heard from where he stood,

“What do you wanna watch?”

“Your pick tonight, sweetheart”

“You sure?”

“Positive Y/N, now hurry up and pick something before I start scrolling through the horror section.”

You shuttered. You could not tolerate horror movies. Last time you watched a horror movie was when you got invited to a sleepover at Daichi’s house with the team. You had known the boys for quite a while so hanging out all together was nothing new. However, on that particular occasion Noya and Tanaka had gotten word of your hatred for the specific genre and decided that it would be a good idea to scare the shit out of you. This resulted in you huddled up in Suga’s arms for the rest of the night, not allowing yourself a wink of sleep in fear the memories of the film would fill your dreams. Safe to say, you were not too keen on interacting with the two the morning after.

Quickly sifting through the different titles, you decided on a Disney movie. You didn't really know what type of movies Suga was interested in so you thought settling on something that was enjoyed by a wide variety of people would be the best choice. Setting the remote down, you took in the atmosphere of the room. It was very serene, as was the rest of his home. There weren’t many pieces of furniture littering the room but the pictures on the wall made up for any feelings of vacancy. Your eyes scanned each frame, smiling to yourself as you took in the happy memories that were on display. However, there was one picture in particular that caught your eye. Suga couldn’t have been any older than three as he stood in his bathtub, butt naked might you add, hugging his mother around her neck and soaking her in the process. You let out an audible laugh as the boy in question reentered the room.

“What are you laughing about?”

Suga set down the bowls of popcorn and candy as he turned to look at the picture you were pointing at. His gaze settled on the frame and his cheeks heated up, a hue of red now painting them out of embarrassment. He sunk into the space beside you as he buried his face in his hands and mumbled,

“I knew I should’ve taken some of those down.”

Your laughter filled the room once more as you pried his hands away from his face,

“Don’t worry about it Kō, I think it’s cute.”

He looks up at you and melts. The way your soft eyes meet his, slightly crinkled at the corners due to the beautiful smile tugging at your lips. You body was slightly turned, facing him, giving him a perfect view of his wonderful lover. In that moment, he fell in love with you all over again. Cupping you’re cheek and planting a kiss in the middle of your forehead, he picked up the remote to start the movie. 

He leaned back and wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you snuggle into him. You two stayed like this for a few movies. Occasionally letting out a laugh or humming the tune to a familiar song. However as you peered up, you noticed that Suga’s facial expression seemed bored. You could tell that he had grown tired of the childhood films and if you were being honest, you were growing tired of them yourself.

You wiggled out of his grasp and reached for the remote. Suga was watching you with a slightly confused expression as you paused the movie and stood up.

“Bathroom break? Need me to refill the snacks?”

You smiled at his motherly antics as you reached your arms to the ceiling,

“No babe, just stretching. I am getting a little bored of the Disney movies though, can we watch something else?”

He hummed and grabbed the remote, exiting out of the movie and returning the the main menu,

“Sure my love, what do you got in mind?”

You sat back down and returned to your original position, leaning up against him once more,

“I heard that volleyball game was on tonight, wanna watch that?”

You watched as his eye lit up, the boredom that was stitched into his face had been replaced by pure excitement that you could tell he was trying to contain. After a minute though, his expression faltered slightly as he looked up at you,

“Are you sure that’s something you wanna watch Y/N? It’s a little different then seeing my games in person. I don’t want you to be confused or get bored.”

You sighed and poked the middle of his forehead, trying to relax the concerned expression that he held as you smiled at him.

“Yes Kōshi, i’m sure. Besides, i’m sure you could tell me a thing or two about what’s going on anyways, i’d like to learn more about volleyball.”

His excited expression returned as he nodded and grabbed the remote, quickly switching to the channel that the game was airing on.

You sat there in his embrace and listened as he talked to you about the game. Truth be told, you knew what was going on. You’ve played volleyball before and even though you were definitely not the most skilled player you didn’t exactly need Sugawara explaining it to you. However, you couldn’t break that news to him. He looked so overjoyed to be talking about something he loved most with the person he loved most that you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt. So, you sat there with your head rested on his shoulder as he spoke. Slowly but surely, his soft voice pulled you deeper and deeper into sleep. The events of the night had tired you out and although you tried to stay away until the game concluded, you ended up drifting off.

Suga didn’t realize you fell asleep until he noticed you were no longer responding to his commentary with nods or soft hums. He peered down at you, watching the rise and fall of your chest as breath flowed in and out of your slightly parted lips. He smiled at your sleeping figure as he slowly got up, being careful not to wake you with his movements. He slid one of his arms behind your back and the other underneath your knees as he picked you up, bridal style. He carried your silent form to his bedroom, carefully pulling back the blankets before placing you down softly. Suga discarded his shirt, placing it into a hamper as he turned off the bedroom light. He slowly climbed into bed with you and wrapped one of his arms around your waist, the other resting underneath his head. He buried his face in your neck, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

All felt right in that moment, the world stopped and all that he knew was you. As he drifted off to sleep he thought about how lucky he was to have you in his life, he wanted to get to lay down next to you every night for the rest of his life. So before he was pulled into his dream land, he had to let you know,

“I love you Y/N.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[solivagusdraco]

From the Depths of a Lab: Boundaries Between Nonhumanity and Creativity through the Journey of a Potential Silvally 'kin

I'm a dragon.

That's a fact I've known for over a decade at this point. It was pure chance that I ever even learned of otherkin - somewhere along the line, one of my best friends mentioned being a therian, and so I asked what that was. If I ever had any doubts about my draconity just being something developed because I heard this new fascinating thing… the fact that I still feel my wings and get sense memories when I search for them, even after this long, would eliminate those… we'll call them worries. Perhaps a poor choice of words, but it's what fits in my experience - I'm firmly in the spiritual otherkin camp.

And perhaps that, and my continued journey to understand psychological 'kin, is part of the "problem" that spurred this essay.

Again, perhaps a poor choice in words.

This isn't some discussion about facets of the community, or debate on origins. My experiences aren't another's, just as theirs aren't mine. This is an essay on personal exploration, and the adventure of trying to confirm or deny a kintype whilst sifting through muddy water, years after I've last done any serious introspection on such topics. But if you're still interested in the personal ramblings of this dragon, then I welcome you and will pull up a nice rock for you to sit on. All I ask is patience, for words are hard for me. Talking about myself is even harder.

I awakened as a Dragon in 2010. I found a hearttype in Painted Dogs in 2014. Both of which were… simple.

I found my dragon in meditation and introspection, finding memories of both sense and the more traditional kind. The senses persisted, and still persist. Perhaps one day I'll wake and realize I'm not a dragon, but that doesn't change what I am now, nor how I feel. I am a dragon, and I found that through soul searching.

I found a home in painted dogs during a chance trip to the zoo. They had just recently finished a new exhibit for those fancy canines, and for some reason I just felt so excited to go see these creatures I'd never heard of before that moment. And then I saw them and while I didn't feel like looking in the mirror… It felt like looking through a photo album. I'm not them, yet still they're so familiar.

But this isn't an essay about dragons or canines. Or perhaps it's an essay about them both, just in a different, chimeric form.

Pokémon has always been a part of my life. As of writing this, I'm 27 and the franchise is 25 - the only part of my life without Pokémon are years I don't even remember. I learned the TCG, my first video games ever were Gold and Silver, I had plush and played pretend with my friends. I had favorites… but I never made a character. Not a trainer, not a Pokémon. Rather, it was literal decades before I made a proper Pokémon OC.

Sev the Silvally was made out of a desire to try and run a Pokémon ask blog as a means to improve my art skills through regular practice. I don't even remember the thought process that made me choose a Silvally over any of the other hundreds of Pokémon - I just knew that I'd started drawing and suddenly I had a crime against Arceus with a broken RKS Drive. Granted, Type: Null and Silvally had been my favorite Pokémon of that generation, and my inspiration for the blog was a Type: Null blog.

Later on, Sev would become something of a comfort and coping character for me.

I had been abused by someone I considered one of my best friends in high school, and while I had since recognized it as abuse by the time of Sev's creation… It still bothered me. So I decided to have Sev's escape from the Aether Paradise be that he was stolen by an abusive trainer, and his evolution happened when that trainer turned her abusive hand to a Rockruff pup - an evolution not through love for his trainer, but rather through a desire to protect. Sev escaped his abuse and got the chance to learn how to live without the shadow of his trainer looming over him, just like I hoped to do. Escape that shadow. Let Sev be my guide through the nightmares and hate scrolling that still persisted.

He stopped being just a character.

But what does this all have to do with otherkin?

As I mentioned, Pokémon has been a part of my life for effectively my whole life. Yet despite that… There's never been a Pokémon that gripped me with the intensity that Silvally has. I've hungrily looked for merch, official and unofficial. I'm in the midst of making a fursuit, complete with electronics. One of my Tumblr usernames is multi-attack, and oftentimes now when making an account on a website, the first thing I check is if 'Silvally' is taken as a username. The design I painted on my mailbox is of my dragon and Sev, in a sort of "coat of arms" reminiscent style. This chimeric Pokémon latched on to some part of my mind and refused to let go.

And yet it wasn't until this past year that I even considered that Silvally could be something other than a "mere" favorite character.

Perhaps it's a hearttype. Perhaps it's a kintype. Perhaps it is just a mere favorite character. Introspection is the answer, regardless. My way to find just what Silvally is to me. But then there comes another question. Another problem.

With my dragon, the hunt for memories was clear cut. I had no existing thoughts to sway the hunt, and what memories I eventually found… They had little comparisons to various dragon media I'd consumed. But I start this investigation with Silvally at a disadvantage - I've made a character with crafted backstory, and consumed what little canon information exists on the species. There's no blank slate for me to start from - whatever search I do will always be colored by Sev and his tale.

So then I have to ask myself:

Is Sev his own character, or is he me?

I've never had a character that I was able to just write. Perhaps it's akin to soulbonding, but what I've read on that experience just doesn't quite taste right for the circumstance. I'll create a path for my characters, a baseline for their personality to grow on… but all too frequently, they end up bucking those guidelines and becoming their own person, as it were. They don't keep me company in my mind, but they still make their own minds clear should I try to direct their story or actions in ways they don't agree with.

Where does one find the boundary between self and other, when those "others" make their own decisions yet aren't their own entities?

To say nothing of my tendency to dole out my flaws and traits to each of my characters. Each little facet of myself being the seed from which a character will grow. Sometimes as the simple fact that the familiar makes creation easier. Sometimes as a means to work through a problem. But regardless of reason, it doesn't change the fact that almost every character I've ever made has had some piece of me in their core.

But… When every character you make is a facet of yourself, the moment you consider that they might be more than just a character gets muddy. Is it a hearttype, born from a facet of yourself that your subconscious decided you needed to care for more? Or is that facet just a part of you that recognized what you were, long before your consciousness connected the dots? And if kintype it is, then how do you determine what memories are real? Were the plot points and character biology you designed mere fabrication of the mind? Or were they flashes of another life, fleshed out, recorded, and/or adapted in the name of writing?

As if the discovery and determination of memories wasn't already complicated enough.

Sev's name was the only decision I consciously made whilst creating him - shortened from 'severance', as his creation was for the partial purpose of finally separating myself from old memories. Everything else just… happened. There was no rhyme or reason or choice to anything. Not his color, not the reason he and the other Silvally of his world were created. Every plot point, every musing on his biology was a simple moment of "Oh, so that's how it happened".

In what way is that different from how I found my dragon, with her quiet nights of meditation and introspection until the memories and feelings fell into place?

Now don't misunderstand - this isn't me saying that discovering a kintype is nothing more than making a character. That couldn't be farther from what I'm saying! Rather, I'm musing on the question of where the boundary is between the creative process and the discovery process. If Sev (or just Silvally in general) isn't a kintype, then it's still fascinating to me that his creation was so similar to me discovering my dragon. And if he is a kintype? Then is that particular creative process something to be mindful of when contemplating "original character" kintypes?

Perhaps this question would be easier to find an "answer" to if I knew what Silvally was to me… but I don't! That's almost the point of this essay - a vague attempt to knock some solid feeling thought loose from my mind.

It just happened to lead to a fascinating line of thought.

[xmint-conditionx]

☆ flanked ☆ ch1 | knj

(verb) flank - 

guard or strengthen (a military force or position) from the side.

attack down or from the sides, or rake with gunfire from the sides.

☆ pairing: soldier!namjoon x widow!reader; namjoon x fem!reader ☆ word count: 4.7K ☆ summary: you’re a recently widowed military spouse who is stationed at camp walker, south korea. you’re dealing with the tragedy of your husband’s recent death, and in the process, you accidentally meet a k-pop idol you’ve had a crush on for years. who knew you’d both be at the same post while he’s doing his compulsory service? who knew he’d be so damn nice? who knew it would be impossible to get him out of your head? ☆ warnings: angst, mentions of death, grieving, feelings of guilt, brief description of sexual acts. ☆ a/n: hey everyone c: glad to be putting this gem back up into the world. please do let me know if you want to be added to a taglist for this, i’d be happy to oblige! this was one of the first things i’ve written, and so i hadn’t quite found my style yet, but it’s not that bad??? i pretty much have the whole story planned out, but i want to take my time with it. this is my lil baby, and i wanna treat it right uwu this starts off with a lot of angst and tough emotions, but there will be eventual smut!!! huge thank you to my supportive spouse who is in the military and has helped out with some of the realism aspects of this story. hope y’all like it! enjoy!

- minty <3

It’s raining today. Again. The clouds hang low, like a weighted blanket covering your whole world. Aren’t those things supposed to help with anxiety? If only the clouds comforted you, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to go to… therapy. The word stings in your brain. Another cruel joke of the universe: the un-comforting weighted cloud blanket, and the need for you to go to therapy to ease your pain about a dead therapist. 

The light of the day is beginning to leave as you walk towards the address the man had given you the day before. You really should have been nicer; he really didn’t mean to hurt you. And you really should have asked his name. Mentally kicking yourself, you vow that you’ll do it tonight. After all, this is the only other time you’ve left the house by yourself this week. It was nice to not have the Casualty Assistance Officer breathing down your neck for once. There has to be some good in that. Hell, this little outing might actually be helpful.

The old government building is dull, like both the sky and your feelings. If you died right now and were reincarnated into an object instead of a being, the building in front of you would probably be the best fit. Shades of brown and grey cover tired and worn brick. Government funding has tried its best to keep it presentable but truthfully, it’s barely holding on. It’s definitely seen better days. The more you think about the similarities, the more pathetic you feel, so you push on ahead and push the thoughts out of your mind. The door creaks as you walk in the cold and dark foyer and it all just... makes sense. As empty inside as you are. Jesus, you’ve never been this morbid. There are no lights on other than one at the end of one of the hallways, and you hesitantly step towards it. You don’t like the thought of what that light is going to expose. 

As you reluctantly enter the beam of offensive fluorescent light, someone takes notice of you. Already? They’re walking towards you, hand extended. You’re busy blinking back at the new bright sensation as you reach your hand out to introduce yourself. After blinking back the harsh light, you can see the little folding chairs placed in a circle in the room. Great, you think, just like AA. 

The man before you seems to be in his late 30s, a little on the short side, with a little bit of hair recession. As you finish your short bow to the man, he says in Korean “Yes, someone told us you might be joining us tonight.” as he sends a meaningful look over to one of the chairs in the circle. You follow his gaze to see the man from yesterday grinning up at you, dimples on full display, this time in civilian clothes. After sending you a goofy little wave, he pats the chair next to him and not so smoothly motions for you to sit there. 

“Go ahead,” the older man says, “make yourself comfortable. We’ll be starting in a few minutes.”

You walk toward the empty chair, and take in how truly different he looks in plain clothes. His KATUSA uniform was extremely flattering to his large frame, but this is just downright cruel. The black beanie he’s sporting looks way too good on him. His short sleeved v-neck shirt is a little tight, revealing the finely defined shape of his chest and his arms. He catches your eyes lingering on his body, and you quickly look down as you feel a blush creep up. You tell yourself to just pretend nothing happened, and it’ll all be fine. 

After you sit down, you open your mouth to ask for his name, but he does the same, your voices awkwardly echoing each other. Realizing what happened, your cheeks grow even warmer and you can’t help but turn away as you both share a laugh. You shake it off and give him your name, family first and individual second, attempting to at least make eye contact with him. 

“Nice to officially meet you. I’m Sangbyeong Kim Namjoon, but please don’t feel the need to use titles or honorifics with me. We’re equals here as far as I’m concerned. I’m really glad you decided to come tonight.” 

So, it is him. You can’t even begin to believe it. He looks so different than he did in the tour pictures you saw only a few years ago, but as you look up at him knowing what you know, it all falls into place. Some things for sure didn’t change one bit- his button nose, his deep and smoldering eyes, and the signature dimples really should have given it away. His smile is still just as genuine and reassuring and gleaming and... beautiful?

You immediately squish the thought and offer him back a tight smile. You’re not going to let him know you know who he is. It would probably only make him feel weird and you’ve already been so awful to him. You’re not going to allow yourself to make a big deal about this, and you’re definitely not going to allow yourself to... like him. 

“Look,” you start, “I appreciate your concern. I... I just don’t think something like this will help me. At least not right now.” You sigh, studying your shoes as a distraction. Your hands busy themselves fiddling with your necklace. There’s no way you can be here sitting this close to Namjoon. 

As if he can read your panicked thoughts, Namjoon leans in closer to you, so close you can feel his warm breath on your jaw, and with a hushed and more gravelly voice, he says, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Hell, I didn’t say anything for almost a whole month. It just... felt good to listen. You’re not going to be forced into anything. This is going to go at your speed and be what you’re comfortable with. I promise.” With that last sentence, he places his large, warm hand on your knee. 

Shit. You suddenly feel your entire body ignite. What is this? A bolt of lightning rushes up your spine. Your heart starts to pound in your chest. No, this isn’t happening. Your legs begin to tingle. This can’t be happening; this is not allowed. You swallow hard. 

You don’t want to be aroused. You straight up shouldn’t be aroused. This is messed up. Really messed up. You blink some sense back into yourself and cross your legs away from him which thankfully removes the cursed hand.

You’d imagined being touched by this man for a pretty considerable amount of time some years ago; you had filled your head with countless fantasies, knowing they’d never come true. You’d read countless imaginings of his other fans and admirers. This man had fueled so many hidden desires within you. You’d thought of his hands exploring your frame, his strong arms throwing you around, his plush lips leaving marks along your inner thighs...

Thinking of him had been your guilty little pleasure, even something your husband had liked to playfully tease you about. To actually have him here next to you in the flesh, though, was still somehow unfathomable. Why now, you mentally screamed to the god you didn’t believe in. The universe’s cruel jokes just won’t end, will they? What can you possibly even do about this? You can’t sit here and allow your panties to be wet when your husband hasn’t even been buried yet for fucks sake. God, you’re so ashamed. You’re just going to have to keep him at a polite distance. That’s your only option.

You don’t speak through the meeting. But Namjoon was right, it is kind of nice to hear other people’s stories. Even though it’s only been a week since you found out, there’s a lot of feelings and thoughts you can relate to with these people. You’ve found out why Namjoon comes to these meetings every week. That was a question you didn’t want to linger on, much less learn the answer to. You didn’t want to imagine him experiencing a loss like this. Even when you weren’t convinced it was really him, seeing that same pain in another’s eyes only made yours hurt worse. 

One of Namjoon’s fellow soldiers had died in a training accident, and the whole fire team was there doing group therapy. They spent most of their time remembering the funny things he would do to cheer everyone up during their long ruck marches and their annoying and boring bouts of equipment cleaning. Private First Class Derek Williams was the goofball of the group, and he was definitely well loved. Namjoon’s eyes never fully lit up when everyone’s anecdotes hit their punchline.

As the meeting draws to a close and people begin filing out, the group leader comes over to the both of you and asks Namjoon how his thoughts have been over the past week. It’s interesting that the man takes special interest in Namjoon. He nods and just casually replies, “I keep thinking it should have been me instead.”

His relaxed confession is absolutely shocking. Why would he say that? The older man seems to be as surprised as you are.

“Namjoon-ah, please don’t say such things,” the man urges. 

“I know how it sounds, I really do. I’m not going to do anything crazy, and I know it’s a pointless thought,” he shrugs. “It’s just how I’ve been feeling.” 

The older man nods. 

“Go in well-being, Namjoon. Please, call me if you need to.”

You find yourself walking out together. The sky is now fully dark and there’s an added chill in the air, urging you to pull your scarf up a little higher. At least it’s not raining anymore. It’s not usually this cold in Daegu at this time of year; you’re practically begging Spring to come. Although you’re in stride with each other, Namjoon feels like he’s a million miles away.

 “Hey,” you begin, hoping to ease the tension. “I’m sorry about your friend. He sounded like a really nice guy.” 

“Yeah, he was. Thanks. I’m sorry about your husband too. You seem to miss him a lot.” 

“Yeah, I do. Part of me still doesn’t believe he can really be gone. I feel like I’ve been walking around in a daze for the past week. All the paperwork I’ve had to sign. All the logistics. It’s all a little overwhelming so I… just kind of shut down most of the time. Our dog is still looking for him around the house, too, which is probably the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Oh, shit. I couldn’t imagine. I have a dog too and... I don’t want to think about how confused they must be. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

You both stop walking, because you realize you’ve allowed him to walk you all the way to your car. He didn’t even ask.

“Speaking of my son… I... actually need to go walk him. He’s been inside all day and it’s finally stopped raining. Huskies need exercise... So...”

Namjoon lights up a little. “Do you walk him on post?”

“No actually, we go to Duryu Park. He likes the ducks that gather at the pond. Although they probably won’t be doing very much at this time of night.”

“Hey, why don’t we go together?” he asks, “It’s dark out and it’s not a good idea for you to be by yourself.” 

“Excuse me?” you snap. He doesn’t know you’re a brown belt, but he sure is about to.

A flustered Namjoon begins stumbling over his words. “I’m just saying, you’re like really small and someone could easily—“

“Namjoon,” you laugh. “I think I can handle myself.”

“No, uh, what I’m trying to say is that there’s safety in numbers, you know? It would be difficult to fight off bad guys while keeping hold of your dog...” He has a good point. You’ve never walked Draco this late before. You don’t want to admit it, but your recent lesson in mortality has left you a little more than uneasy, especially now that Namjoon has made you think about it.

He continues his word vomit, mistaking your furrowed eyebrows for reluctance instead of consideration. 

“Look, I’m sure you’re very intimidating but—“

Oh my god, you can’t take it anymore. 

“Namjoon!” you exclaim and he finally, finally stops the verbal deluge. “Fine.” 

He seems astonished. “Really?”

“Yeah, meet me by the bridge that leads to the little island in the middle of the pond in like... 30 minutes. We usually do two laps around the water. And...” you pause, “thanks.” You’re a little annoyed at how persistent he can be, but he is really considerate.

His eyes sparkle in the light of the street lamps and you notice his gaze linger on your pursed lips. He does a... weird little hop and finally fully smiles at you. You’ve forgotten how utterly striking his full smile can be. Jesus Christ, how many teeth does this man have? His cheeks have become even more round and his eyes shrink into little half moons. Your stomach does somersaults as you bask in the glow of his happiness. Ugh, not again.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon!” he says, hurrying away. You don’t notice him glance back at you, and that’s probably a good thing.

You get in your car and put your forehead against the steering wheel. Why can’t you just say no to this man?

___________________________

You walk up to the start of the bridge with your pup in tow, who is obviously very pleased to be outside and at his favorite park to boot. The street lamps don’t cover much, but you can just make out a leggy figure standing next to a small white fluff ball. You’d forgotten he said he had a dog too. As you get closer, you see he’s got the leash handle around his wrist, because both his hands are holding two white cups with steam pouring out of the top. 

“What’s this?” you ask, as he extends one of the cups to you. Your dogs are busy sniffing each other, ears back and tails wagging. 

“Hot chocolate! It’s really cold out and I noticed you shivering when we got out of the group therapy building and I was going to get you coffee but I didn’t know what kind you like or how you take it plus it’s late and caffeine might keep you up all night and I didn’t want to—“

“Namjoon,” you cut him off before he explodes. “Thank you.” you reply, taking a sip of the hot drink and relishing in how it warms you up. You look back up at the handsome man, who is beaming down at you, enthralled in your pleased reaction. Warmth is beginning to spread through your body, and as your eye contact with him deepens, you begin to wonder if it’s just the hot chocolate. You can’t help yourself. “You do know that there’s a lot of sugar in hot chocolate though, right?” 

He furrows his eyebrows and panic soon consumes his face.

 “Oh! Right! I’m sorry I—“

“Relax, I’m just teasing you. I’ll be fine, promise. And if I’m not and you end up keeping me up all night, I guess I’ll just have to kick your ass.” you deadpan, which takes more effort than usual because now, you’re picturing him… keeping you up all night.

He starts laughing and you can’t help but to join him. He has a good, hearty laugh, one that makes his entire face light up. It feels really good to be laughing with him. 

“Oh!” he exclaims suddenly, “this is Moni!” gesturing down to the adorable American Eskimo at the end of the pink leash. 

You squat down to formally introduce yourself to Moni. You let him sniff your hand as your dog takes the opportunity to sneak some kisses on your face. 

“Bananas, stop!” you light-heartedly scold, but your pooch doesn’t get the message. He seems encouraged instead, and you are given no mercy by your big fluffy boy. 

Namjoon just laughs at how adorably frustrated you are. After he’s had enough entertainment, he extends a hand and helps you back up. This is the first time you’ve touched skin to skin, and your body is keenly aware of it. His hands are softer than you thought they’d be, and really warm. With how cold it is, you wish you could keep holding onto his strong yet elegant hands. Even after he’s released you, a symphony of tingles play in your legs, betraying you once again.

“Shall we then?” Namjoon asks, tilting his head down slightly so he’s looking at you through his eyelashes. Why does he have to do that? He can’t look at you like that. It’s illegal. Not allowed. He’s torturing you, and surely he has to know that. Or is he oblivious? He’s probably not even trying, because he has no reason to. He doesn’t even need to try. Which is kind of the problem, because you can’t exactly tell him to stop being so damn hot.

You can only answer him by tugging on your leash with a “let’s go!”

Over your walk, you talk about favorite places to eat in town and the different attractions you’ve come to love during your stay here. He talks about one of his best friends who grew up here in Daegu, so he knows all of these nice little spots only a local would typically know. You don’t have to wait for him to say Yoongi’s name before you know who he’s talking about, bringing up a hint of stinging remorse at your secret. He says they’re still in contact as much as they can be, but it tends to be difficult when they were both doing their compulsory service. Yoongi had finished his obligation, and is back in Seoul working on music. For his time, he was stationed right outside of Seoul working with the Korean Military Police, so he never really had to totally put down his work. He talks about Yoongi like they’re brothers, and it’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever seen. Namjoon doesn’t even try to hide how much he misses his friend.

He asks about where you grew up, and the question is kind of startling. It’s not that you’re not wanting to tell him, but you’re surprised that he wants to know.

“I grew up in Georgia, in the United States. It’s in the Southeastern part of the country.”

“Ah okay, so you grew up close to Atlanta?” he asks, full of curiosity. 

“Kind of! I was about a 4 hour drive from there. I grew up closer to the ocean.” you say, and notice his eyes light up when you mention the sea.

“There’s a guy in my unit,” he begins, “who did his training in Georgia. He said that there isn’t much there other than Atlanta...” he says, quickly noticing your bemused look. He catches himself and finishes, “but in hindsight he was likely biased.”

“He probably trained at Ft. Benning. If that’s the case, I don’t blame him for thinking that at all,” you say, “He’s actually kind of right, if that’s all of Georgia he got to see,” you continue, laughing a little.

“Well, what do you think of Georgia?”

“Hmmmm. I think I wouldn’t have wanted to grow up anywhere else. The area where I grew up was close to the beach, but there was also a lot of agriculture. My grandma even had a peach tree in her backyard. She’d let me go back there and pick a peach and eat it if I had behaved that day. Peaches are my favorite, so it was a pretty good motivator.”

“Georgia is known for their peaches, right?” he asks, but his tone tells you he already knows the answer to that. You had always thought people were exaggerating at how smart he is, but you can’t deny the fact any longer.

“Yeah, we’re even called the peach state. Peaches, pecans, sweet onions and peanuts all grow well there.” you say and he nods with understanding. 

“So what about the town you grew up in?”

“The town was pretty small, my high school maybe had 500 people in it. But the bigger city by us was great. A lot of different types of people. A lot of good food. God, I miss southern food a lot.” you gasp, grabbing his bicep with your free hand, “Namjoon! You haven’t lived until you’ve had good collard greens!” 

“Collard greens? I’ve never heard of that,” he says, scrunching up his eyebrows.

“It’s a side dish we eat down south. It goes with just about everything, but it’s best next to fried chicken and macaroni and cheese.”

“Macaroni and cheese…” he muses, letting the English words roll off his tongue, “I really want to try more American food. I’ve had plenty of hamburgers, but I want to try everything. PFC Williams always let me try his lunch if I asked him. He brought this thing called potato salad one day… that was an interesting experience.”

You sigh, “there’s much more to American food than just hamburgers and potato salad. Too bad there aren’t any real authentic American food restaurants here. Although, there is a Johnny Rockets on the other side of town. Is that where you get your hamburgers?”

“Yeah… it is. Chain restaurants are cheating though, right?”

“Yeah, basically. If you want real American food, you’ve got to get a real American to make it for you. I thought I really liked Korean food until I moved here. Americanized Koean food is not half as good as the real thing,” you assure him.

“I could have told you that,” he teases, giving you a light bump with his shoulder. “Do you have a favorite restaurant in town?”

You discuss the places you have come to love in Daegu, from restaurants to parks to shopping areas to museums. You both realize you enjoy art, although he prefers looking at it while you enjoy making it. The conversation ventures to Pollock and Monet and Van Gogh and you go on about how you just don’t get Picassos. He just lets you just rant about how much you hate his works for probably too long, until you’ve run out of breath and are forced to take a break.

“Wow, that bad huh? What did he ever do to you?” Namjoon chuckles.

“He destroyed my corneas with his kindergarten level bullshit, that’s what.” you snap, which only makes him laugh more.

“So it’s safe to say that you hate Banksy too, then?” 

“No way!” you say, “Banksy is a genius!”

He just continues to chuckle, clearly amused. “I will never understand you, woman.” 

“Are you trying to?” you quip before you can stop yourself, and his laughs die down. Oh, no. That was so direct. Way too direct. He’s got to know you’re into him now; he’d be a moron to not pick up on it. Your stomach is doing somersaults again, but not the good kind this time. You’ve known him for less than two days, so why did you think that was a good thing to say?

You chew your lip, worried of what he might be thinking. Or worse, what he might actually say. After an excruciatingly long silence, finally, it happens.

“Yes. I am.” 

What does that even mean?! Your thoughts are beginning to spiral again, and thankfully, he continues, albeit way too nonchalantly. 

“And honestly, it’s been really enjoyable to do.”

It’s been... enjoyable? Has he already forgotten how you met? This man must have a death wish if getting verbally murked by a strange woman in public was something he considered to be ‘enjoyable.’ You’re immeasurably grateful he isn't looking at you right now, because it’s nearly impossible to hide your astonishment. 

“So…” he begins slowly, “I hope you’ll continue to let me.”

What do you even say to something like that? Namjoon is so much nicer than you ever expected, and that fact is only making things more difficult for you. You’ve had more enjoyment in this one walk than you’ve had this whole week, but there’s about a million different reasons why you should stay away from him. If you only could have met under different circumstances, this might be something you could explore. Honestly, you would still love to explore the possibilities with him, even here and now, but the thoughts of your husband are difficult to push away. 

You recoil at that and curse yourself. 

They shouldn’t be pushed away! It’s not fair to your husband or to his memory. It wouldn’t even be fair to Namjoon! You can barely give yourself a hundred percent right now, much less a new friendship. On top of everything, you’re going to have to go back to the states in less than 6 months, which is an eventuality you’re not looking forward to facing. 

The only sounds now are the soft contact of your shoes against pavement, the tinkling of metal dog tags, and the cold breeze rustling the trees around the four of you. You were correct about there being no ducks out this late, and you find yourself missing their chatter. Anything to distract you from this confrontation would be welcome right now. As the silence grows longer, it becomes more and more difficult for you to respond. You’ve never been great with words, but what do you have to lose besides looking like an idiot? Besides, you’ve already done that. Like, yesterday. You take a deep breath and offer up the most broad explanation.

“Namjoon, I just can’t be a good friend to you right now.”

“That’s not what I’m asking for.” he simply replies, not missing a beat. Why is he being so stubborn? You’re going to have to elaborate. Forget trying to not make a fool out of yourself. He’s a good person, and he deserves your honesty-- at least most of it.

“I can’t be a good friend to you ever. I’m too consumed in my own baggage right now to help you carry yours. Plus, I’ll have to return to the States soon. I just… don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“That’s… not what I’m asking for,” he says again.

Frustration building up causes you to sigh at him. You’re going to need a little help from this infuriating dimpled tree-man, so you make him give it to you.

“What are you asking for, then?” you inquire with a little sting in your tone, leaving him with no room to continue being vague.

“I am asking to continue spending time with you. That’s it. I enjoy your company.” he says. This answer is still unacceptable to you because...

“I literally yelled at you in a parking lot yesterday, Namjoon,” you say.

“Yeah, but that was…” he trails off and scratches his head, “kind of my fault.” 

“You can’t be serious. You… didn’t know.”

“That might be true, but I still hurt you, and I’d like the chance to continue making it up to you. At risk of sounding really cheesy… Part of my job as a KATUSA is to be a symbol of the friendship and mutual support of our two fine countries... To learn from and assist each other... I don’t see why we couldn’t do that too...”

“That… really was cheesy, Namjoon,” you chuckle.

He smiles down at you, and your heart skips around in your chest. When he speaks again, he draws out the first word, clearly in a teasing mood now.

“Okay, but… did it work?” he teases with a sly grin as he side-eyes you.

Part of you wants to tell him no, but he does deserve honesty after all. At least mostly honesty. You want to reveal to him that you know who he is, but you’re unsure of the words to say. He seems eager to stay in your life here, for whatever reason. Compared to what you’ve just been through, nothing can really hurt you again. So what’s the harm, really? It’s not like you have anyone else to spend time with. 

“Yeah,” you confess. “It did.”

“So,” he begins, “does that mean you’ll let me show you the museum you haven’t been to yet? There’s this once piece in there that is spectacular. You have to let me show you.”

After a considerable silence, he looks at you with soft, begging eyes and lets out a soft “Please?”

“Okay, Namjoon. You got it.”

You cannot say no to this man.

“Saturday then? In the morning? We’ll want to beat the crowd, especially if you want to explore the whole thing!”

“That works for me. You know, I’m actually looking forward to you being my personal tour guide.”

“Great! I guess you really must be from Georgia. You’re sweet, just like a peach.”

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 11: Formality

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (FINALLY!)

Warnings: angsty angst angst

Notes: Does anyone still like this series? The last part kinda flopped 🤨

Anyway, I’m back and super excited bc my babies are FINALLY official and they only had to almost die like three times to do it!

P.S. Lydia has terrible taste in men, Y/N still sucks at being a psychic, and the high school desperately needs more security

                                                  ————————

Have you ever had a day go so unbelievably sideways that you honestly can’t even comprehend how fucked up it is?

Yeah, welcome to my Friday.

“This is the worst! My life is literally over.”

I huffed in annoyance, my jaw dropping at the pure absurdity of that statement. “Scott, Peter tried kidnapping you this morning and you’re worried about a dance?”

He frowned from beside me, his shoulders sagging. Last night, Deaton tried making Stiles and I leave the clinic once he was all patched up, but we both refused. I still wasn’t completely convinced that he was alive until he woke up with a start this morning.

It didn’t take long for Peter to show up, demanding that we hand him over. Actually, I can’t really say we because the three of us hid in the back while Deaton somehow took care of it.

Derek was still hanging out in the Argent’s basement, probably being tortured by Kate but most likely dead by now. I tried talking to Allison when I got to school this morning, but she practically ran away from me when I brought it up. I had no idea how much she knew at this point, and it was freaking me out.

And, to top it all off, Scott was flunking so many classes that coach banned him from the dance tonight.

Clearly, that was the most pressing issue.

He was so desperate afterward that he asked Jackson to watch over Allison, since he is her date. He apparently refused because it’s Jackson, so Scott had been losing his mind with worry all day. He was convinced that Peter would be after her next, but I wasn’t so sure.

She wasn’t an obvious choice. I mean, her family is literally just a bunch of professional werewolf hunters. Adding her to his pack wouldn’t make much sense.

“I just—I can’t sit by and watch him try to kill everyone I love.” Scott forced a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh.

My steps faltered and I peered over at him, my eyebrows raised in surprise. “You love her?”

“Oh,” His eyes widened as he realized what he said. “Yeah. I do. Holy shit. I love her.”

I watched as his lips slowly pulled into a grin, relieved that he wasn’t freaking out for a moment. It’d been pretty obvious for awhile that they loved each other, and I was honestly shocked it had taken him this long to acknowledge it, but happy for him nonetheless.

“That’s it. I’m going tonight.” His face hardened with determination before he turned on his heel and walked away briskly.

“Okay. Bye to you too!” I chuckled, curious to see how he’d manage to sneak in.

I only made it a few steps before someone rammed into my side forcefully. A pair of hands gripped my arms to steady me as I nearly toppled over. My eyes narrowed as they landed on Stiles’ sheepish expression.

“Hey. Sorry.” He let me go quickly and scratched at the back of his head. “Where have you been?”

“Class..?” I drawled slowly, my eyes trailing over his twitchy frame slowly. He seemed more wired than normal, which was saying a lot. 

His chest was heaving as if he’d just run a mile—which I’d recently learned he was surprisingly incapable of—and his eyes were shining with barely contained anxiety.

“I just...uh—I have a, I’ve been trying to...will you go to formal with me?” He rushed the words out so quickly, it took me a second to process them.

I just stared at him, waiting a moment to see if he was going to follow that up with anything else. “You mean the one that’s tonight? Are you serious?”

His honey eyes widened, as if he wasn’t expecting that response. I mean, what else was I supposed to say? I’d been waiting for him to ask me for almost two weeks now, and he waits until the day of? Who does that?

“Uh,” He glanced away from me quickly, his cheeks turning pink under the fluorescent lights. “Not if you’re going to say no.”

I just rolled my eyes, ignoring the way my heart began fluttering at the thought of going with him. I took a step forward so that there were only a few inches separating us and leaned up to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“It’s a date.” I patted his chest before walking away, an amused smirk pulling at my lips at his stunned expression.

                                                      ————————

I let my fingers trail over the frilly materials hanging in front of me as I took in my options. I was failing miserably at finding something decent to wear tonight. I wasn’t used to dressing up or being overly girly, so I had no idea where to start. I’d really just been standing here for the last several minutes, overwhelmed by all the colors and textures.

Allison was standing to my left, inspecting a few dresses in a full length mirror. Lydia was long gone somewhere behind me with a mountain of cloth in her arms. I picked up a knee-length blue dress and decided it wouldn’t hurt to try it on.

I saw someone approaching Allison out of my corner of my eye and glanced her way fleetingly, but froze as my gaze locked with Peter’s. I looked around, not fully believing that he was here, before jerking my attention back to him. He gave me a slow, amused smirk before shifting his eyes toward her. My head whipped back to the dresses in front of me, my entire body going rigid as I tried not to alarm her.

Maybe Scott had been right this afternoon. But would he really try to turn her now? In the middle of the mall?

“That’s not your color.” I heard him murmur, and stole another look their way. I didn’t want Allison to catch on that I knew him, or that anything was wrong. Very, very wrong. 

Allison shifted her weight, looking uncomfortable as he stared at her intensely. “Sorry if that was intrusive but, considering your skin tone, I’d go lighter.”

“Because I’m pale?” She asked quietly, somehow not questioning the fashion advice from a strange man.

“Fair.” He corrected, his head tilting as he tried to look well-meaning. “I mean, you can’t call skin like yours pale. Not skin that perfect...”

“Okay.” She laughed awkwardly and put the dress she was considering back on the rack beside her.

“Trust me, I have a...unique perspective on the subject.” She nodded and turned to walk away with a tight smile, obviously weirded out, but he stepped to the side so she couldn’t get away. My skin crawled at the predatory gleam in his eyes as he practically sized her up.

She watched nervously as he grabbed a new dress from the rack behind him and took her hand in his. She reeled back instantly at the unwelcome touch, but that didn’t stop him from bringing her skin up beside the material for comparison. “See? Much better.”

I’d heard enough. I took the few steps needed to close the distance between us, my heart racing in my chest. I wasn’t convinced that he was stupid enough to try anything wolfy in public, but I wasn’t about to take any chances, either. I stopped at her side and grabbed her wrist gently. Her wide eyes jerked toward me, swimming with relief. 

“Hey, Lydia needs help in the dressing room.” I rushed the lie out quickly, barely registering that she nodded in understanding before pulling her away.

I didn’t even spare another glance at Peter as I weaved through the narrow isles briskly, not stopping until I found Lydia clear on the other end of the store. She actually was by the dressing rooms, posing to herself in a full length mirror. I staggered to a halt at the sight of the champagne dress she had on. It was somehow...familiar?

“That was so creepy.” Allison muttered quietly as she shook my hand off and plopped down onto one of the plush chairs beside the mirrors.

I walked right up to Lydia, unable to stop myself as I continued inspecting her dress. She watched me for a moment and raised her eyebrows expectantly when my gaze rose to meet hers. My face pinched in confusion. There was a persistent nagging at the back of my mind as I looked at her, like there was something I should be picking up on. But I just couldn’t place it.

“I think that’s the one.” I jumped as Allison suddenly spoke up from behind us. I cleared my throat and took a step away from Lydia, realizing how weird I was being.

She turned away from me with one last questioning glance before giving herself a satisfied smile in the mirror, her hands smoothing down the silky material before resting on her hips.

“Me too.” She spun around excitedly and disappeared behind one of the dressing room curtains.

I couldn’t explain it, but I suddenly felt my stomach twist as a dark cloud of dread washed over me.

                                                    ————————

I looked over Stiles’ shoulder, the hardwood floors beneath my feet vibrating as loud music rang throughout the space. We were slow dancing for the second time tonight, my arms locked around his neck and my head resting against his chest. It was really nice, being this close to him. It helped lower the base level of anxiety I’d been fighting all day.

It’d been nearly an hour since I last saw any of our friends. We all met up with our respective dates at the start of the dance, Lydia having brought a random lacrosse player since Jackson was with Allison. Just then, my eyes found them dancing stiffly a few couples away, but the sight did little to calm my nerves. 

He was completely wasted at this point, since he thought it was a good idea to bring a flask of vodka with him, and she was just trying to make the best of it until we all went home. It was clear that neither of them wanted to be here together, but Scott had pretty much threatened him into watching over her, and she didn’t want to be without a date.

Scott successfully snuck in through the roof—don’t ask me how—and was managing to keep an eye on them while dodging coach all night. My eyes swept over the room, seeing nothing but familiar faces, just not the one I was looking for. 

Stiles suddenly pulled back and my arms loosened from around his neck. His eyes rounded as they flickered around my face with concern. “You okay?” 

I glanced over his shoulder again, feeling uncomfortable under his intense gaze. I didn’t want to lie to him, but I also didn’t know how to explain the uneasy feeling I’d had since we got here. My dancing faltered as I noticed that Jackson and Allison were gone.

“Have you seen Lydia recently?” I asked absently, my eyes still sweeping around the gym quickly.

I took a step away from Stiles and turned all the way around, my chest tightening with anxiety. For some reason, I felt like I needed to find her. Right now. Or something terrible was going to happen. My anxiety was quickly rising to panic when I didn’t see her anywhere. 

“Y/N?” Stiles put a hand on my shoulder and I glanced back to see him watching me closely, his brows pinched in confusion.

“I have to...” My skin was crawling with the intense need to get out of here. Something was wrong. I could just feel it. I leaned forward to place a quick kiss on his cheek, already feeling guilty for what I was about to do. “I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.”

I started jogging away before he could try and stop me. My legs had a mind of their own as I stumbled through the dense crowd toward the exit. I braced my hands against the gym doors and pushed my way through, stopping for a moment as they fluttered closed behind me to consider where she could be. I huffed, feeling an urgency deep inside me that was only growing with each passing moment. 

I turned on my heel to keep moving, and slammed right into a hard chest. I reeled back, ready to brush past whoever it was, but stopped when I saw that it was Jackson. His chest was heaving, as if he’d been running, and his eyes were wide with fear. 

“Jackson?” I asked tentatively, the look he was giving me only increasing my unease.

He stammered silently for a few seconds, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly. His eyes fluttered as they glanced away from me apprehensively. He was acting like he’d just seen a ghost, or maybe something worse. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I pressed, taking a step toward him. 

He gulped and let out a shuddering sigh. “I-I was out behind the school and...and I was...”

“What? What did you do?” My voice hardened with frustration as I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously. He had definitely been up to something, if his guilt-ridden expression was any indication. I momentarily forgot what I was supposed to be doing as my curiosity peaked. 

“I-I told...Allison’s dad, he was...”

My heart skipped a beat with panic at his words. Mr. Argent was behind the school? Why would he...

Oh shit. 

Oh my God. 

Without even sparing him another glance, I rushed past him and straight down the hall. Within seconds I was outside, the freezing night air causing my skin to rise with goosebumps instantly. My head whipped from side to side as I tried to figure out which way to go. On instinct, I starting running toward the lacrosse field. 

My heart was hammering painfully in my chest as I sprinted as fast as humanly possible. I was suddenly very glad that I’d chosen to wear ballet flats tonight, instead of the heels Lydia had tried forcing me to buy. I let my intuition guide me as I kept going until I reached the edge of the field. 

I staggered to a stop, my eyes widening at the sight of Lydia standing at the other end. Her back was to me as she walked around slowly, looking lost. I opened my mouth to call her name, feeling my chest loosen just slightly at the fact that she was okay. 

I froze, my whole body growing rigid with fear as Peter suddenly emerged from the tree line just outside the field. His figure was mostly cloaked by the bright stadium lights as he approached her, and it didn’t seem like she’d seen him yet. 

“Lydia!” I screamed, finally finding my voice through the panic coursing through me. I started running in her direction again, having no plan but just needing to be there with her. 

She whipped around at the sound of her name, but made no move to get away. There was nothing I could do but watch in horror as Peter stalked toward her and opened his mouth wide, his eyes flashing bright red. She didn’t react nearly fast enough. 

By the time I reached them, she was laying in a crumpled heap on the turf, blood splattered across her dress. All the air rushed from my lungs as a heavy sense of déjà vu washed over me. 

Of course, how could I be so stupid? It was the vision I’d seen when Derek helped me, finally playing out in real life. 

I let out a trembling breath, my chest feeling like it would collapse any second from the intense pressure. My mind went blank as Peter kneeled over her body, blood dripping down his face. His eyes, still red, slowly swept up to meet mine. 

“Well, they don’t usually run toward me, but I’ll take it.” He muttered lowly, an amused smirk twitching at his lips.

My eyes were still locked onto Lydia’s unconscious frame beneath him. Her new dress was ripped, the red stain at her hip growing alarmingly fast. My heart clenched painfully and tumbled down into my stomach at the sight. 

I was too late.

Peter took his time standing to his full height. I could feel his intense gaze on me, watching me closely, but I couldn’t look away from Lydia. She was so...broken. A wave of nausea washed over me and I forced my eyes to meet his.

My vision blurred as I tried desperately to catch my breath. “Is she dead?”

My voice was barely above a hoarse whisper, my entire body trembling. It was from the overwhelming terror being this close to Peter initiated, but I wasn’t just scared. I was angry. I knew something was going to happen all day, and I ignored my instincts. I saw this very thing happen weeks ago, but did nothing. And now, Lydia might be dead. Because of me. 

Peter hummed low in his throat, his eyes scanning me from head to toe before glancing down at her fleetingly. “Not at the moment.”

A few tears escaped down my cheeks as I tore my gaze away from him to look at her again. I wasn’t even sure if she was breathing. If she was still alive, it was just barely.

My panic only rose as I thought about how unlikely it was that I’d get out of this situation in time to bring her to a hospital. Her chances of survival were dropping by the second. And mine too, probably. 

“Tell me, Y/N, what do you see in my future?” Peter look a slow step toward me, and I stumbled back to keep some distance between us. 

My eyes jerked up to his as I stiffened, a shiver wracking my body as I became more aware of the freezing temperature. “How do you know about that?”

The earth crunched beneath his shoes as he stalked toward me. I stood impossibly still, knowing I wouldn’t be able to escape him. He didn’t stop until he loomed only inches away.

“How does anyone know anything?” He murmured hoarsely into my ear, and I recoiled back, my stomach clenching painfully in disgust. My eyes pinched shut as one of his hands came up to brush a stray lock of hair away from my face. “You, my dear, would make a fantastic beta.”

My eyes jerked open again and I took a miniscule step away from him, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “Trust me, I wouldn’t. I’ve been told I can be really annoying. I wouldn’t make a good beta. Or a good anything, really. I’m hardly a psychic. You should just keep searching because, you know, whatever it is you’re looking for...isn’t me.”

“Oh, I think I’m willing to take my chances.” Time seemed to slow as his eyes flashed bright red, his mouth opening wide to show his razor sharp canines. 

I whipped around, ready to at least attempt running for my life, but instantly froze at the sight of Stiles barreling toward us. 

“No!” I shouted frantically, my heart leaping into my throat with panic.

A strong arm wrapped around my stomach and wrenched me backward. I slammed against Peter’s chest, hard. The air was knocked out of my lungs from the force, just as a clawed hand snaked around my throat.

Stiles lurched to a stop in front of us, his dress shoes slipping on the damp turf. He flailed to the ground before popping back up instantly, his eyes wide with horror as they glanced down at Lydia before landing on me.

“Don’t kill her. Please.” His voice was trembling with desperation as he held a hand out toward us hesitantly.

The tips of Peter’s claws dug into my skin and I winced, tears now running freely down my face. I was terrified. For myself, Lydia, and now Stiles. Peter had killed many times before, and there was literally nothing stopping him now. Stiles’ eyes flickered to my neck, his jaw clenching tightly. 

“Of course not. Just tell me how to find Derek.” Peter drawled, as if he wasn’t currently poised to do the opposite. 

“W-what?” Stiles stammered, seemingly surprised by that request. His gaze was still firmly planted on Peter’s hand.

I felt a sharp stabbing at the base of my throat and my lips parted as a shuddering gasp escaped me. He was surely drawing blood at this point. Stiles’ eyes widened with alarm at the sight and his hand jerked toward us as if he were itching to intervene. 

“Tell me how to find Derek Hale.” Peter leaned down, his warm breath fanning my shoulder. I tried jerking my head away, my heart lurching in my chest at his close proximity, but didn’t get far with his tight hold around me. 

“I don’t know that! How would I know that?” Stiles’ voice rose to a frantic shout, his chest heaving as his glistening eyes finally moved up to Peter. 

“You’re the clever one, aren’t you? And because deception has a very particularly accurate scent, Stiles. Tell me the truth. Or I will rip her apart.”

As if to prove the validity behind his words, his hand tightened around my throat. I instantly started pulling at his fingers as I felt my airway closing. My lips parted in a silent gasp, my lungs spasming painfully as I tried to force a breath in. 

“Look. I don’t know! Okay?” Stiles rushed the words out in a complete panic, his eyes darting between Peter and my neck. Tiny black spots dotted my vision as I felt myself growing faint. “I swear—I swear to God I have no idea!”

Peter hummed low in his throat, his chest vibrating against my back. “Wrong again.” 

Everything that happened next must’ve taken place in only a few seconds, but they seemed to drag on and on. Peter’s head jerked down to my left shoulder, his teeth digging into my skin easily. A scream tore through my throat as he finally released it, my vision blurring as unbearable pain rippled along my upper body. 

Stiles face crumbled in utter horror and he lunged toward me just as Peter’s arms disappeared. I tried gasping for breath as I sagged to the ground, but my body just wasn’t cooperating. It felt like Stiles caught me, but I couldn’t be sure as I lost all feeling in my limbs.

Then, everything went black. 

                                                    ————————

I stirred, already wincing in pain as I slowly regained consciousness. A high pitched droning was the only sound in my otherwise quiet surroundings. My eyes fluttered open and instantly squinted against the harsh fluorescent lights above me.

Everything felt heavy. I sluggishly started turning my head away from the lights, but jerked to a stop as searing pain radiated from my shoulder. My face fell into a grimace as a pitiful groan escaped my lips.

Something shuffled at the foot of my bed and I froze. My heart jumped in my chest with panic. Memories of Peter came flooding back all at once, and I started trembling with fear at the unknown presence.

Stiles jerked upright, appearing at my side a split second later. I let out a small sigh of relief, wincing as my lungs angrily protested each breath I took. My body began relaxing as I realized I was safe. 

“Oh my God! Y/N!” He practically yelled in my face as he leaned down over me. “Are you okay? Wait, that’s a stupid question. How are you feeling? Does it hurt?” 

One of his hands disappeared beneath the thin mesh blanket covering my body and he pulled out a hallow cord with a small switch in the middle. “If it hurts you can push this button as much as you want and I won’t tell. You’ll be higher than a kite, but—”

“Stiles.” My voice was barely above a hoarse whisper as I interrupted his frantic rambling. “I feel okay. Just tired.”

Truthfully, I hadn’t been awake long enough to know how I felt. I’d gathered that I was in the hospital, but obviously didn’t know much else. My entire left side hurt like hell.

My eyes trailed over Stiles quickly, noting that he was still wearing his clothes from the dance. His white button up was stained with blood and dirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His black jacket had been discarded on a table by the door.

Maybe it hadn’t been long, then?

“Seriously?” He sagged down into the chair that sat beside my bed, his eyes widening in surprise. “You were asleep for almost thirty hours.”

“I was what?” I planted my hands on either side of my hips and pushed myself up, ignoring the pain that ripped through my shoulder at the movement. 

How the hell had I been out that long? That meant it was already Sunday, although probably somewhere around midnight. Too many panicked thoughts invaded my mind at once to make sense out of any one of them. 

Stiles bolted back to his feet and pushed me against the bed with a disapproving glare. “It was actually twenty eight hours, forty seven minutes, and sixteen seconds, if that makes you feel better.”

“You know what, somehow it does.” I huffed sarcastically with a roll of my eyes, wiggling around on the hard mattress in an effort to get comfortable again. 

Stiles twitched his eyes at me while he sat back down apprehensively, as if not trusting me to stay put. He brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck as he glanced down to my injured shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Y/N...”

“For what?” My brows furrowed in confusion. I really had no idea why he would be apologizing. There was definitely a list of people that should feel bad right now, but he wasn’t one of them. 

“I should’ve listened. If I’d just told him what he wanted...” He let out a heavy sigh and rested his elbows onto his knees before dropping his head into his hands. 

I reached out and took one of his hands in mine, rubbing my fingers across his skin soothingly as he looked up at me cautiously. He had no reason to blame himself. Peter had already proven time and time again that he’s literally insane, and I’d made the stupid decision to run toward him mid-attack. I had a feeling he would’ve bitten me either way, regardless of anything Stiles did. 

“It’s not your fault.” His lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes glistening with a slew of intense emotions. 

I didn’t even have time to start deciphering them before he sat forward in his chair, his face hardening with determination. “I should’ve brought this up before I had to watch you almost die, but...you’re not—you know, how you are with me...with any other guys, right?”

His voice was timid as he struggled to stutter out the words. My heart swelled in my chest as my lips pulled up into a small smile. That was the most adorable, perfect, Stiles way of phrasing that question. For a moment, I forgot about all my worries.

“Stilinski, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” 

His eyes twitched as he squeezed his fingers around mine minutely. “Only if you’re gonna say yes.”

I didn’t even have to think about it for a second. 

“Of course I’m saying yes, you dork.” I let out a breathy giggle as a big grin took over his face. 

His caramel eyes shined with happiness as he brought my hand against his mouth to place a gentle kiss on my fingers. It was about damn time we had that conversation. I honestly shouldn’t be surprised that it took us this long to make things official, considering how stubborn we both are. Regardless, it felt amazing to finally be able to call him my boyfriend. 

My boyfriend, Stiles. It had a nice ring to it. 

I only let myself relish the moment for a few more seconds before finally asking about the one thing I’d been dreading thinking about since waking up.

“How’s Lydia? Is she...?” I trailed off, not able to say the word out loud. 

When I’d seen her last, she was only moments away from death. I was sure of it. If I’d been here this long from a bite to the shoulder, I couldn’t imagine the damage that had been done to her. My heart clenched with regret as I thought back to all the moments I could’ve done something differently that would’ve saved her. 

Stiles winced beside me, hesitating for a long moment before answering in a quiet mumble. “She’s uh...missing.”

“Excuse me?” I instantly tried bolting upright at his words, my anxiety skyrocketing. Missing? How could she be missing?

He guided me back down gently with a hand on my uninjured shoulder, his eyes narrowing again in warning. “Yeah. She just kinda disappeared from her room this morning.”

It was like he could sense that I was about to try getting up again, as he peered down at me sternly and pressed his hand down more firmly. “My dad already has the entire department out searching. There’s nothing you can do.”

My mind was racing with anxious, jumbled thoughts. She could’ve been taken if no one was sitting by her bedside like Stiles had clearly done for me. Or, she could’ve run away. But why would she do that? She was in the hospital. Where she was safe and getting treatment. I guess, there was always a chance that she’d taken to the bite and shifted already...

I didn’t know what any of this meant for me. I could only assume at this point that I wasn’t a werewolf. I mean, my shoulder clearly hadn’t miraculously healed yet. I figured, if I were, it would’ve done so by now. I was just incredibly glad—and lucky—to be alive. 

My eyes met Stiles’ as he leaned back in his chair and inspected me closely. He kept glancing toward the place where Peter had bitten me as he drummed his fingers against his lips. It was like he couldn’t tear his gaze away. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I breathed, suddenly nervous. His anxious expression couldn’t mean anything good.  

“There’s something I keep—something Derek said awhile ago that I can’t get out of my head.” He mumbled, his eyebrows furrowing in apprehension. 

I looked at him expectantly, urging him to continue. He was seriously starting to freak me out.

“The bite—he said it either kills you...and I think we’re good on that one...”

I glowered at his poorly timed sarcasm as his eyes continued flickering between my own and my shoulder. He swallowed thickly, and I could practically see his heart racing as he let out a ragged sigh. He finally caught my gaze, twitching uncomfortably in his seat. 

“Or it changes you.”

Well, shit.

Episode 10                 Episode 12

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Can I get some soft huwu? Chillin n bein in love?

Hope you were looking for some sappy, sentimental nonsense because THAT’S WHAT’S ON THE MENU!!!! Also this fic was heavily inspired by the song Honey and Milk by Flower Face, with the lyrics being from Hawks’ point of view, so I would highly recommend it.

Minor Trigger Warning: Mentions/ References to Physical and Emotional Abuse

Hawks the Pro Hero had been known for having his large, ritzy penthouse in the heart of Fukuoka. It took up the entirety of the last floor of the complex building, with large double-pane glass ceilings for a ridiculous amount of natural lighting. The building had top notch security cameras on every floor and an elevator that required a special card key to make it work. He’d held a handful of swanky festivities there to grease some palms and rub elbows at the Commission’s insistence, but he knew the place was really meant to be a glorified cage. 

The security camera and card key elevator were so they could track his movements. Make sure he wasn’t engaging in any salacious indulgences. Sure, he could fly out through the balcony window, but there were cameras and a barrage of questions waiting for him any time he did. The penthouse was luxurious and he should delight in spending his limited free time there, but something about how impersonal the place was felt draining. Everything had been selected for him by his handlers. Almost nothing in that place was something he had selected to be there himself, as if he was too stupid or too lazy to do it himself.  It was stifling to think he was 23 years old and was still monitored like a toddler in their pram. They claimed if he could just buckle down and fully commit to what it was they wanted, there would be no problem.

So, Hawks decided to use that to his advantage. Insist that if they let him keep a “toy” with him, he’d be much better.

Keigo hated having to frame it that way, to try and treat things like they were just something to pass the time and not something he wanted for all of it he had left. But if he didn’t twist things to fit the narrative the Commission had in mind, he wouldn’t be able to have the things he wanted. He learned pretty quick that the only way to win against them was to play their stupid head games the same way they did, and really, he couldn’t put all the blame on himself. After all, this was what they wanted him to be. A perfect little performer, able to flit from side to side on the battlefield to try and gain leverage, try and change the tide as tensions escalated.

But he needed to breathe. He needed something more to keep him motivated now. The idea that he was no longer pushed forward by how useful his handlers considered him had been infuriating for the President. She’d hurled insults and accusations at Hawks, berating him for being made weak and soft, and he’d taken the verbal beatdown without batting an eye. He was used to it from her. She’d said worse things to him, anyway, so there was really no point to getting too ruffled. “I don’t ask for much,” he had drawled, letting his shoulders slump as if relaxed, “so I don’t think this should be too difficult. Give me this one thing and I can promise you’ll get more than what you want.”

Two days later she’d all but tossed the new set of card keys at him, snarling about what an ungrateful little leech he was.

He’d been happy to take the verbal lashing and then the two items to his girlfriend, Todoroki Fuyumi. It had been a chance encounter a few months prior to his promotion to the Number Two slot and collaboration with her father, Endeavor. At the time, he hadn’t even realized who she was, too focused on giving another great performance to really think. It had been some charity event where autographs and pictures were being offered at discounted rates for renovations to a nearby children’s hospital. He hadn’t been expecting much of the event, but he’d seen her amongst the unpaid volunteers and decided to strike up conversation with her. There had been the expected pleasantries - thanking him for his work, thanking him for taking the time out of his day to do this event - and then he expected her to start fluttering her eyelashes and putting the flirt on.

But then she didn’t.

Instead, she got to work, talking to him no different than another organizer, guiding him to his booth and going over how it worked. She milled about and helped with crowd control,  managing the excitable young kids with a gentle and experienced hand. It was interesting to watch, watching frosty blue eyes light up at the looks of glee on the children’s faces as they reacted to whatever it was she said. Heeded up offering to help with clean up afterwards to get another conversation in with her, putting in enough charm to exchange numbers. It wasn’t until their second official date that her family name clicked in his mind. The revelation changed nothing for him, though, and he continued to treat her just as well as he’d done before.

Even then, he was already falling for her fast and hard, he could freely admit.

He groaned as he stepped through the threshold of the apartment, toeing off his kicks and swapping them for the house slippers. He could see Fuyumi’s own carefully tucked away, but he’d already known that she’d be in the apartment that night. He headed to the kitchen and smiled at the covered dishes settled on the table, waiting for him. She’d mentioned wanting to leave him a hearty meal for when he got back in, since he would be off the next day and she felt he deserved it. He chuckled as he reheated each little dish before eating, letting his eyes scan the kitchen.

Just a few short weeks ago, the place had been practically untouched, filled with cooking utensils that had never once been touched. Now, however, the rice cooker sat on the counter instead of the shelf above, clearly having been used recently. For the meal he was reheating, in fact. There was a small pastel pink strawberry-shaped kitchen timer on the counter beside it, but it normally sat nestled at the far end of the bottom row of the now-full spice rack. Matching porcelain dishes sat neatly washed in the drying rack by the sink, these ones more ornate with cherry blossoms decorating them in a blue backdrop as opposed to the militant grey ones he had before, and there were a few splotches of tan and green on the small decorative towels hanging off the oven door. The towels were of an apron-clad mother hen mixing something in a bowl, while a small baby chick chirped at her feet.

The towels were incredibly hokey, but he couldn’t help but love them all the same.

He made quick work of his meal, making sure to take the time and utter a quiet thank you before chowing down. Even if she wouldn’t hear him, he wanted to. Home-cooked things were a rarity in his life, both before and after he became a ward of the government, and even reheated a handful of hours later it was better than any restaurant he could name. before taking the time to wash and dry his own dishes. He paused for a moment before also taking the time to put them all away again, figuring it was the least he could do for the delicious meal.

The short trek from the kitchen to the bedroom for the rest of his pre-bed routine reminded him again of how things were different now. The plush leather couch in the living room now had a plush, pastel yellow throw blanket hanging along the back. The old glass and steel coffee table had been instead replaced with a kotatsu, a small bowl of fresh oranges settled in the center, a small stack of papers and a few colored pens on the far left corner. Pictures now hung in the hallway, in stained birch frames with cleaned glass, depicting moments where he felt the most alive, moments of her own with her mother, brothers or friends, her infectious smile even in a photograph filling him with a warmth he’d never known before.

It was strange but invigorating. How little things could break down the metaphorical bars of his cage and turn it into an actual home. He didn’t dread coming back here on the nights that he knew she was going to be here. He moved carefully through the bedroom to the adjacent bathroom, glancing over at the bed in the center of the room. Even in the dark light, he could see her rumpled white and red speckled hair spread across the pillows, glowing like a halo against the dark burgundy covers around her. The dark coloration of the bedding had been the one point he’d been insistent about, simply because he knew it would retain heat better.

Even if he wasn’t there himself, he wanted to make sure that she was always wrapped in a warm embrace of sorts.

Even as he showered, the evidence that he wasn’t alone was there. His black bath towel hung on the rack beside her blue and white striped one. The bright purple loofah hanging off the shower head. The blackberry scented women’s shaving cream, the pink shaver, and the variety of differently scented body scrubs - one for every special time of year, because she had a fixation with being as coordinated as possible - on the shower rack and their affiliated lotions tucked under the sink until the were needed. The drawer now dedicated to her make-ups and hair accessories, her toothbrush and cinnamon toothpaste - cinnamon because mint would be too on the nose, what with her Quirk - poised beside his and her make-up removing wipes resting just beside his shaving cream and razor. The few smudges of mascara or eyeliner at the edge of the sink, implying she’d dropped one of them while getting ready, all sang the song of an apartment shared by more than one individual.

He was hyper aware of it; partially because of honed instinct and partially by choice. 

Even in his youth, he was alone. His parents were around, sure, but it was clear that he was only to be dragged out when they needed something from him. To make use of him in some way, as either a punching bag or his Quirk for survival. And even with the Commission, his handlers were not affectionate people. He was kept in his room until it was time to do Quirk training, run exercises, practice application of what he was learning through scene plays… And even then, the most he had ever gotten was a gruff, “Acceptable work.” When he’d been given a bit of freedom upon his entrance into Heroics, it had been a breath of fresh air. To mix and mingle, to have an adoring public, it had all been something new and gifted him something that he had craved. The part of him that yearned for meaningful connections with others had been filled by it.

For the first few weeks, anyway.

Far too quickly, however, he realized that the connections he made were not genuine. Not entirely, anyway. The swarms of fans were swarming to Hawks, to the puppet on the Commission’s strings, and not Keigo himself. The other Pros and sidekicks that pleaded for the chance to work with him only wanted to work with him to bask in the bright glow he cast, to gain some of that light to propel their own careers to those same heights. It was never something born out of interest in him, in who he was under the Pro Hero schtick, in the aspects of him that weren’t created by the Commission for the widest array of appeal.

But things were different now, he thought, as he dabbed at his mouth after brushing his teeth. He stared at his own reflection in the mirror for a beat or two. Just a few months ago, he’d been completely miserable with big, dark circles under his eyes that were normally masked using make-up. After all, dark circles wouldn’t play nicely into his Devil-may-care persona, or so claimed the Commissions President. Even now, the bags were still there, but they weren’t as dark and pronounced. Probably because he slept through the night more times than not since Fuyumi started staying regularly. He flashed a small smile to himself before stepping out into the bedroom proper to slip into some sleep pants.

He perked up immediately when he noticed her form sitting up in bed. He could feel her eyes shifting to watch him as he stood in front of the dresser. “Sorry,” he said quietly, "I didn’t mean to wake you.”

She shook her head while stifling a yawn. “Mmm, don’t worry, you didn’t. I was kinda dozing in and out of it for a while,” He nodded before dropping the towel from his waist to shimmy into some boxers. A small huff came from her at the act. “Make sure to hang that towel back up before you come to bed.”

“Of course I will, babe,” he chuckled, already sending two feathers to handle it as he fished out a pair of sweats. He preferred going shirtless at night as it was more comfortable for his wings. Once he was redressed and the feathers had safely returned, their task complete, he made his way over to the bed.

Fuyumi lifted the covers to him as an invitation while she shimmied back down herself. “Did the mackerel reheat well?” she asked, gently patting at her clavicle once he was sitting on the bed.

He was quick to take her up on the offer, swooping down to nuzzle his face into her, breathing in the scent of apple and honey lingering from her shower gel. His arms looped around her waist and her hands found his hair, carefully shifting through the still damp locks. “Mhm. It was delicious. Thank you for the meal,” he murmured against her skin

“It was my pleasure, you know that,” she giggled, pressing a quick peck to his forehead.

He had come to live for the delicate, tender moments with her. The suggestion for her to start moving her things into his apartment had been his, once they’d hit the ten month mark. He knew he was committed, that he’d sooner die than live a day without her. They hadn’t, however, broached the subject with her Father yet. No one knew that they were together, actually, simply because he wanted to keep her protected and respect that she wanted her privacy. He knew her hesitance to outright tell Endeavor came from an ugly place and so didn’t go chasing those battles with her. He knew how it upset her and he didn’t want to force her to confront things she wasn’t ready to. And so, they decided to take the move a step at a time. First, to add personal touches to make the apartment more homey, more like their space, and they’d tell Endeavor the truth once things were a bit more calm. She spent four to five nights a week at the apartment, and at least 80 percent of her things were already moved over, and for now that was enough for them.

The hand in his hair continued its gentle work while her other slid down to caress along his spine. She had learned early on exactly how to relax him best, and her hand made its way to the base of his wings. She took her time massaging at the muscles at the base of each, her touch firm yet still somehow soft. When she massaged them, they would flare out wide and long, to their full height and width, before slumping lax against the pillow top and trilling chirp-like sounds would emanate from his throat to highlight his approval. He remembered a long time ago when he’d feared those noises would startle her away, but she had never found the few avian characteristics he had to be off-putting.

With his wings put to rest, her hand moved from his back to stroke his cheek instead. He shifted his head a bit to chase her fingers, pressing lazy little kisses along each one as they skimmed past his lips, and a small giggle escaped her. “You’re always so beautiful like this,” she breathed, looking at him with such pure adoration. He never got tired of how she watched him, as if he was so much more than he was, the look something that he couldn't put the word to but was certain he knew. Her touch moved to thumb over the mark at the corner of his eye, cool skin soft and soothing. “So relaxed, at ease. Just… Letting yourself drop the Hero moniker. Just breathing and being completely yourself. You never look quite as pretty as you do in these moments.”

His chest tightened at the words and he felt his heart sputter, practically drowning in how head over heels he was falling all over again, suddenly able to place the look. Because he had seen it before, directed at others but never at himself. Something he knew he had looked at others with before, back when bruises and harsh words held the same weight as a kiss or gentle praise. He took in a shuddering breath and burrowed himself back into her, body shaking as he tried to compose himself. He felt overwhelmed but in such a good way, in a way that he'd never known before, and to finally have a word for it filled him so, so much.

It was unconditional love.

“Eh? Keigo? What is it? Did I say something wrong?” Fuyumi fretted, feeling the dampness from his eyes leaking onto her skin and the hem of her nightgown.

He loved her so much but he hated how she'd been conditioned to assume she was always at fault. “No,” he breathed out in a shaky whisper, a shuddering laugh pairing off with it, “no, no. These are good tears, Fuyumi.” It took a moment before she relaxed again and pulled him in closer. Her lips brushed against his hairline, the hand in his hair resuming its work while the other slid to gently rub soothing circles between his shoulder blades. Once he was settled enough, he tilted his head to press a few fleeting kisses along her clavicle. “Didn’t mean to freak you out. Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t need to apologize for getting emotional,” she said, reaching out to tilt his head up and press a proper kiss to his lips. He hummed and kissed back, letting himself relax into her arms again.

He flashed her a smile when they pulled away. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Keigo,” she hummed, peppering a few kisses along his face. He smiled and leaned into it, basking in the affection of someone who loved him, warts and all.

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 16//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

Happy Winter Solstice everyone! In honor of this day, and our girl Feyre’s birthday, here is chapter 16 to celebrate! I hope you all have a fantastic week celebrating the holidays! Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, and an overall Happy Holidays! ❤️

X

"Rhys?"

My soft whisper was met with silence; my mate remaining in the depths of slumber, an arm draped over my waist as we lay entangled in our plush sheets. It was still dark outside, only a couple of hours having passed since we turned in for the night and yet I awoke; overcome with an urge I had never felt so intensely before.

"Rhys?" I whispered again, touching his cheek gently and saw a flicker in the muscle of his jaw.

"Rhysand…" I pressed, my heart racing in hopes I could coax him into consciousness as tenderly as possible.

"Yes…?" He muttered, voice thick with sleep and eyes remaining closed.

"Rhys…" I hesitated, moving in a little closer to him as I murmured sheepishly. "I'm...hungry,"

His dark brows pulled together in confusion, "Hungry?" he asked.

I nodded, my head rubbing against his shoulder with the motion. "Starving, actually," I admitted as I traced circles along the dark whorls of his tattoos.

I grinned as he opened his eyes, still perplexed as he turned to me. "You didn't eat at dinner?" He asked, concerned, and I giggled.

"I did. You were there remember?"

"That's right," he closed his eyes again with a sigh of relief, the hand on my waist drifting to my rounded stomach pressed against his side. "We went to Sevenda's with the others and you had the prime rib special."

My stomach growled at the memory, and I choked back a rising sob. "Yes…"

He opened his eyes again, alarmed at the sound of unshed tears in my voice. "What's wrong, Feyre?" he asked, fully alert now as he shifted onto his side to look down at me.

I felt my eyes burn, suddenly overcome with guilt for making him worry and for waking him up, but I couldn't resist the ache in my stomach.

"I want more," I whispered.

He blinked, taken aback as he stared at me. "Of the prime rib?" He clarified.

I nodded with a hiccup. Cauldron damn these hormones. "I need it Rhys. We need it." I said, placing my hands on my stomach.

Rhys breathed a sigh of respite, laughing breathily as he dropped his forehead against my collarbone. "Oh Feyre, you scared me."

"I'm serious, Rhys, I'm so hungry and that prime rib was so good. I need more of it, or else-"

"Of course, my love, whatever you want," he hurriedly reassured me, kissing my cheeks before pulling back to meet my gaze.

I sniffed as I stared into his violet eyes, sparkling with amusement. "Really?"

My heart lifted at the feline grin on his lips, "Yes. Would you like everything that came with it too?"

I brightened and nodded, "Yes. Please."

He chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips before pulling back and climbing out of bed. "I'll be right back, then."

I beamed as I pushed myself up slowly, a month of growth on my abdomen now weighed me down and I required a little more effort when rising from any laying or sitting position. In the month that passed since the summit, since Eira's birth, we had all fallen into a sense of ease. Prior to the summit, Rhys and I did our best to compose our nerves over the rising coup, but now with the full support of our friends at our back, we finally felt a sense of solace. We were still in a period of waiting—of gathering more intelligence on Keir, Kallon, and now Beron. Thanks to Azriel's continued spy work, we were assured that no advancements were being made on either front, so we all allowed ourselves to breathe easier—for now at least.

The only wild card that remained was Eris, but after a brief meeting with him at our moonstone palace above the Court of Nightmares, things seemed...placated, for the time being. The eldest of the Vanserra sons, and heir to the Autumn Court, assured the earlier theory Rhys had—that the male wanted our support in overthrowing his father. What surprised me, however, was that it was all he wanted. He swore he played no part in his father's plans with Keir, and to prove it he provided us with detailed, secret, reports from his father's general; whom he had rallied to his side as well. The reports accurately lined up with the intel Azriel's network of spies had collected, and as of recently divulged a lack of movement as well.

It seemed the trio of traitors were biding their time, presumably attempting to adjust their plans now that the entire continent was aware of my pregnancy. We knew better than to assume they would reel back on the coup because of this; instead deciding to strike before my child had a chance to be born. The threat still haunted us all, but until we had news of any change in plans, we had to wait. In the meantime, Rhys, our family, and I were making the best of it. True to the promise I made myself, having seen how curious and eager Cassian had been in learning about my pregnancy, I spent as much time with them as I could. To aid in our efforts, Rhys and I hired a personal assistant to help balance our workload as High Lord and High Lady; agreeing that we needed the help while we transitioned into preparing for parenthood. That assistant was Clotho, the mute priestess who served in the library of Velaris, and one of the only other fae Rhys or I could trust outside of the inner circle. The priestess humbly agreed and now split her time between our estate and the library. Despite not being able to outwardly express herself, Rhys assured me that she was ecstatic to hear of my pregnancy and wanted nothing more than to help us balance our work between ruling and parenting.

In the month that passed, not only were we able to de-stress a bit and enjoy leisure time with our family, but I had also observed a notable change in myself. While my belly, now an impressive, rounded mound that was pronounced no matter what I wore, continued to grow with the promise from Madja that our son was still as healthy as ever; I noticed a myriad of developments in my emotions. While I did find myself with more energy than I had in the early days of my pregnancy, that frequency in fatigue now seemed to trade places with erratic mood swings. One minute I would be as happy and content as ever, and in the next beset with unexpected gloom. However, everyone seemed to take it in stride—especially my mate, who simply smiled and listened to me rant or just held me when I needed to cry.

Along with my renewed energy, my appetite returned with a vengeance. The same three meals I ate everyday no longer sated me, and I found myself snacking on various things throughout the day. There had been an incident a few weeks ago where I watched in total envy as Azriel snacked on dried meat in between training with Cassian and Rhys—something the brothers had picked back up in part due to the looming threat, but also as a means for entertainment. It wasn't until Cassian noticed me on the verge of tears and snatched the meat from Azriel, casually offering it to me, that I realized I had officially started with pregnancy-related cravings. The cravings hadn't been so intense; until tonight, when I had been ripped from sleep by my growling stomach and the desire to have another helping of dinner had me waking my mate from his sleep.

"Do you think she still has those leftovers?" I asked as I watched him dress.

"I'm sure she has plenty left reserved for you, Feyre darling. She saw how much you loved it," he replied with a knowing grin.

My face warmed as I recalled how the restaurateur offered to pack up extra servings for me to bring back to the estate, but I had been too embarrassed at the extra helpings I already consumed during our stay and politely refused.

"I didn't want to look like a glutton," I admitted sheepishly.

He walked over, resting his hands on the bed as he leveled our gazes. "No one would think that. You're pregnant and feeding the heir to the Night Court. They know he needs to eat, even in the middle of the night," he said and gave me another chaste kiss before stroking a hand along my stomach affectionately.

I smiled. "That's true. It's just hard to keep up when I feel absolutely ravenous every few hours."

He smirked appreciatively as he rubbed my stomach again, "Is there anything else my son wants?"

"Strawberries," I answered quickly. "With chocolate, or whipped cream."

Rhys laughed and pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Whatever you want, my love," he repeated and stood upright.

I waited for him to return as patiently as I could, pacing between our bedroom and balcony every few minutes before finally pacifying myself by sitting with a book on the cushioned bench of the balcony. In order to keep myself distracted, I read a book of plays aloud in hopes that my growing baby would be patient in his insatiable appetite. The sound of my voice must have appeased him, because as I continued to read, my hunger seemed to dull a bit. However, after a few minutes passed, I felt his kicks of protests and rubbed at the spot.

"If you have such a problem with my reading, then talk to your father. He's the one that taught mama how to read," I said, and my heart warmed at the memory of my lessons with Rhysand in my early days at the Night Court. "Maybe he'll teach you to read too."

"We both could," I heard Rhys say from behind me and I whipped my head around to see him holding a bundle of food.

I pushed myself up unceremoniously, eager to eat as the smells hit my nose. "That's so much food!" I exclaimed as he walked over and placed the bundle on the small table we kept on the balcony.

"Sevenda might've given us some more food she thought you might enjoy," he answered with a laugh before snapping his fingers and the food instantly displayed out before me.

I gasped in admiration before Rhys pulled out a chair for me and I happily sat, digging into my meal immediately and moaned with relief as the savory juices of the prime rib hit my taste buds.

Rhys sat next to me, casually grabbing a strawberry from the bowl he had also laid out and snacked on it as he regaled me while I indulged myself. "You truly are a sight to behold, Feyre darling."

I felt my face warm and dread filled my chest as I swallowed a mouthful. "Do I look like a pig?" I asked, that dread beginning to ebb into shame.

"No, no." He quickly reassured me, moving closer until our knees were touching. "I meant the sight of my expecting mate enjoying herself, of nourishing my growing child, is one I never dreamed I'd see," he explained. His hand came to rest on my stomach again as those beautiful amethyst eyes grew tender.

I squeezed his hand gently, "You deserve it Rhys. This child is a culmination of everything that is good about you; of all the good you've done in your lifetime."

His eyes were lined with silver as they met mine, and I moved my hands to cup his face. "He will be all the best parts of you, Rhysand."

"And of you," he swore. "You brought out the best in me Feyre. Everything that I am, that I have now, including this child, is all because of you."

My heart pounded with joy as I beamed and pulled him in for a kiss. He returned it with just as much fervor and heat began pooling in my core. When he pulled away too soon for my liking, I kissed him again-slowly, and nipped at his bottom lip.

I felt the fiendish smirk of his lips on mine as he muttered, "I thought you were hungry?"

"I'm hungry for something else now." I whispered, staring at him with half-lidded eyes.

I shrieked with a laugh as he scooped me up in his arms, my legs easily hooking around his waist as the food from the table suddenly disappeared and he carried me over to the nearest wall.

XXX

The following morning, I was pleased to see Rhys still in our bed and even more delighted to still be wrapped in his arms. He had a tendency to wake before I did these days and often got a head start on his work, allowing me the opportunity to sleep in and get the rest my body needed. However, after the night we had, I wasn't too surprised to see him needing the extra sleep. I smirked mischievously as I lightly traced along the tattoos on his chest with my own tattooed fingers, relishing in his scent as I recalled the details of our night that extended into the early hours of the morning.

It was a welcome change of pace after the stress that weighed on us; one we needed now more than ever with a youngling on the way. The days of just the two of us were set to expire in a few months; soon to be filled with a new life we would have to work together to sustain—all while balancing our duties of presiding over the Night Court. I often tried not to let the weight of that responsibility stress me out; knowing we had our whole family to rely on, but now that I was nearly halfway through my pregnancy, I wanted more of this time alone together.

I felt dark talons gently caress my mental shields and I smiled as I lowered them enough for my mate, who kept his eyes closed despite now being conscious. I allowed him into my thoughts; letting him know of my yearning for the quality time we had just experienced together as a lazy hand caressed my stomach.

"Let's go to the Cabin for a few days," he said after a couple of minutes passed.

I pushed myself up on an elbow, staring down at him as his sleepy violet eyes met with mine. "Really?" I asked, already keen on the idea.

He nodded in affirmation. "Cassian and Azriel are keeping the appropriate tabs on everything, and Clotho is set to meet with Mor and Amren today to go over some paperwork from the Palace Lords in Velaris," he explained.

I nodded. "My sisters also have their own agenda," I added. "Elain plans to drag Nesta to the market, or one of the palaces, today."

"So, we can get away," Rhys said. He brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face and I nodded again.

"Let's go now." I said, eager to escape with my mate.

It had been months since we set foot in the Cabin together. There were times he or I visited alone to let off some steam, sometimes meeting each other by the end of the day, but it was the first time we would go together since Winter Solstice; the first time since I fell pregnant, and I couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic.

Rhys smiled languidly. "Right now?"

I nodded and pushed myself up carefully, staring down at him with a grin. "Right now," I confirmed.

His smile shifted from lazy to determined as he sat up in the bed. I reached over to pull on my silky dressing gown and robe as he climbed out of bed and dressed. I laughed as he scooped me up in his arms and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"We'll have to bring the baby too," I said in mock disappointment.

He chuckled as he walked over to the balcony. "That's all right. We'll consider it our first trip as a family."

The next thing I knew, we were in the sky, Rhys's powerful wings easily propelling us from our balcony and into the air in a matter of seconds. I held onto him as I felt the warm breeze encircle us and whoosh through my hair as he took us to our destination. I watched his wings as they moved; strong and beautiful, and felt a kick from inside my stomach.

"Do you think he can tell we're flying?" Rhys asked.

"Maybe," I said as I felt another swift kick and rested a hand on the spot. "It's okay baby, daddy won't drop us."

"Never," Rhys affirmed.

I looked up at him, "Do you think he'll have wings?"

The corner of Rhys's lips twitched upwards. "Of course he will. Maybe not at birth, but they'll come."

"Were you born with your wings?" I asked, admiring how the sun reflected off the iridescence of them as they moved in unison.

He shook his head. "My mother was hopeful they would develop as I matured, and a day after my eighth birthday they appeared," he said.

"Just like that?" I asked with a smirk.

"Magic."

I laughed and traced a finger along the membrane of one as it moved within my reach. He stiffened at my touch and I grinned playfully.

"Illyrian baby," I teased.

"If it weren't for my son in your belly, I would demand you fly us to the Cabin and see how you fare while I stroke your wings," Rhys taunted.

I giggled and pecked his cheek, keeping one arm draped around his neck while the other rested on my stomach. I paused as realization struck.

"Is that when your mother brought you to the mountains?" I asked.

Rhys nodded, already knowing what I referred to. "I think she was going to bring me regardless, but she was eager for me to fly and learn the Illyrian traditions."

The silver in his violet eyes flecked with a hint of sadness as he recalled the memory of his mother. The current status of our relationship with the Illyrians put a strain on his heart. He grew up with them, found his brothers amongst them, and their participation in the coup was the last thing he ever wanted. I laid my head on his shoulder in order to provide him with some comfort, not wanting either of us to dwell on that heartache during our little getaway.

His fingertips brushed the side of my stomach lightly as he held me closer. "I want him to learn, to train, like I did," he said.

Although he didn't ask, I heard the question in his words and I nodded. "He's Illyrian, just like you."

He pressed a kiss to my temple and landed on the steps leading to the Cabin, setting me on my feet carefully and I smiled reassuringly at him before taking his hand as we both walked to the entrance. As soon as we walked in, the fire in the hearth ignited and the rest of the house sprang to life with a wave of Rhys's hand, immediately accommodating us. A second later, platters of food appeared in the kitchen and I beamed.

"I love it here," I said as I strolled over to the counter, picking up a piece of perfectly crisped bacon and took a bite.

Rhys smiled roguishly as he joined my side, taking a slice of bacon for himself. "It's just what we needed, especially after your ravenous cravings kept me up all night. In more ways than one," he said with a wink.

I threw my hand up in a vulgar gesture. It's not like you were complaining. I said through the bond.

Indeed not, my love.

I sat at one of the raised chairs beside the counter, looking over the paintings I had filled in the room all those years ago—when I escaped here for the first time after learning he was my mate. I ate as I reflected on the last decade; at how it had brought us here, with our son now growing inside of me.

"I want to give birth here," I said after a comfortable silence had befallen us.

Rhys paused. "Really?" he asked.

I nodded, resting a hand on the apex of my belly. "It feels right. This is where I accepted our mating bond; where we decided to start trying for a baby, and I'm pretty sure this is where he was conceived too," I said with a smile, having done the math in my head. By the time I realized I was pregnant, on Starfall, I was already a couple of months along; meaning our attempt to conceive on Winter Solstice—as we did every year, had been successful

He smirked in return at the memory; it was somewhat of a tradition he made of bringing me here on my birthday. "My mother gave birth to me, and my sister, in this cabin," he said. "With the help of some Illryian midwives and some camp-mothers."

"Then it's perfect," I said softly.

He reached down to stroke my stomach gently. "I want to be there," he said. "In the room, while you give birth. Through all of it actually. I know it isn't traditionally done, my own father waited outside the room both times, but I want to be there and hold your hand when my son comes into the world. Just the thought of you going through labor, of enduring all that pain alone," he shook his head as if to erase it from his mind. I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"I wouldn't want you anywhere else, Rhysand." I said, not at all surprised at his declaration.

A week after Eira's birth, Viviane and Kallias had both sent us letters-informing us of their daughter's arrival, fawning over her beauty and detailing how infatuated they already were, but also informing us of their own accounts of what the birthing process had been like. At the summit, Viviane expressed that she knew what to expect, but in her letter, she elaborated just how excruciating it really was. Luckily, Kallias had also been there with her, providing her with whatever support she needed and relieving as much of the pain as he could through back massages, also letting her clutch onto him for dear life as she suffered through pain after pain. I wasn't sure what Kallias had told Rhys in his letter, but shortly after my mate had summoned Madja and asked the healer to guide us through exactly what to anticipate.

"Are you nervous?" He asked.

I chewed on my lip in thought, recounting the gruesome details that both Viviane and the healer had laid out for me. The pain alone would come in constant, violent waves, and could last as long as a day.

"A little," I admitted. "But I know I'll be much more comfortable here; with you there."

"I'll be there every step of the way and do whatever I can to ease the pain." He promised, taking my hand and pressing a lingering kiss to it.

I smiled. "It'll be just the two of us, Madja, and the midwife."

The healer had told us that she worked with her sister, who served as a midwife for just as long as she had been a healer, when delivering younglings. Rhys and I readily agreed to have her along and made a plan to meet with her once I came closer to the end stages of my pregnancy.

I squeezed the hand that held mine, staring at the new tattoo that had formed from his renewed vow he made at the beginning of my pregnancy—when he promised not to let his male-bonded instincts shelter me unnecessarily. I ran my thumb over the crescent moon design.

"Do you think," I hesitated, mulling over my words. "Do you think...I'll be good at it?"

He paused. "At what? Giving birth?"

I laughed humorlessly, "No, not that. At...being a mother?"

I avoided his gaze, feeling the weight of those smoldering violet eyes as I continued to stare at the blue-black ink of his tattoo. After a few seconds of silence, his other hand came to grip my chin gently, tilting my head up so that I could meet those beautiful eyes.

My heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in them. "You will be an amazing mother, Feyre," he swore, his voice earnest.

My eyes burned as I thought of my own mother; of how imperious and cold she had been towards her daughters. I often wondered how she had felt when she was pregnant with us, because once we were born, she hardly bothered caring for us at all. Did she ever love us? She worshipped my father, her "one true love," but how could she not dote on the fruition of that love? Perhaps she had loved my father for what his wealth provided her instead, and the lavish lifestyle she lived-before she died.

"You are not your mother, Feyre." Rhys said, his hand moving from my chin to my cheek. "I already see the love you have for our son in your eyes, in your actions, every day."

I sniffed as I looked down at my stomach, heart swelling as I thought of my son—of how eager I was to hold and cherish him, and I couldn't fathom pushing him away. I nodded lightly as I wiped at the few tears that managed to escape.

"I just worry sometimes," I admitted.

Rhys nodded in understanding. "I worry about myself too," he said, and frowned. "I worry about being like my father; that I might be too hard on my son, and that I might age as cold and calculating as he did."

I shook my head, taking hold of the hand still on my cheek. "You could never Rhys," I said with the same smile I had given him last night—the same emotions in my eyes as I reminded him what this child meant for us.

I felt the tension leave as he sighed in content, resting his brow against mine as we both stared at my stomach; our thumbs caressing either side of it, holding our baby. I felt him move, sending kicks at both our hands, and we laughed; my chest swelled with hope that perhaps he could feel the love between us—at the love we shared for him.