#Side Guide Roller

[coralquill]

Hi there! If you don't mind writing it, between the LaDS and MC (who are not in a relationship), who would confess their feelings first? And what's your headcanon of how they would confess? Would it be accidental in conversation? Out of frustration? Planned?

Additionally, if it's not too long, how would the other respond?

ahoy, thank you for requesting! oof, that was a roller-coaster of feelings with how I think it'd go for each of the love interests. I struggled with coming up with one for Sylus, but it became my favorite at the end<3

pairings: xavier x reader || zayne x reader || rafayel x reader || sylus x reader || caleb x reader

contents: fluff, love confessions, comfort, iloveyous || wc.1731

— XAVIER

Xavier's love is constant and has always been there, and you have subconsciously accepted in your life.

On a quiet afternoon, Xavier and you strolled along the sidewalk in search of an after-lunch dessert. You stopped in front of an ice-cream parlor and smiled at him, hinting at your want.

Smiling back, Xavier stepped up to the counter. "Two ice-cream cones, please," he ordered, adding in a request you couldn't quite catch.

Moments later, he returned with two ice-cream cones in your favorite flavor and handed you one. "Here you go."

Glancing down, you noticed your ice-cream toppings were arranged in a heart shape. "Thank you." Your voice trailed off as you let the realization set in. That was when you really looked and saw his love.

You realized Xavier had always loved you—how he spent most of his time with you, how he remembered all your preferences and favorites, and how your routines became a part of his days were all quiet ways of him saying I love you without needing to say it aloud.

His love had a steady presence in your life—always there, and it had always been enough.

— ZAYNE

Zayne's love is subtle, showing it whenever it was suited. He only wants for you to confirm your feelings, too.

Zayne promised to meet up with you after work. With a text sent telling you to dress nicely, he drove his car to your house and parked in your driveway, waiting for you to come down.

"Good evening, doctor," you greeted him at the door of his car before sliding in.

Zayne smiled in response, presenting you with a bouquet of jasmines. Small petals, subtle meanings. "This is for you."

"Aw, thank you." You accepted the bouquet. "What's the occasion?"

"Can't I gift flowers to the person I love?" He smiled, sparing you an appreciative glance before driving off the driveway.

You flushed at his words and buried your face in the bouquet, pretending to take in its scent as an excuse to hide away.

The drive to the restaurant was short. Zayne parked his car across the street and got out. He circled around to your side and helped you out. Linking his arm with you, he guided you to the entryway of the restaurant.

The hostess greeted you and asked for the number of attendees. Zayne replied, "There's a reservation under the name Zayne, please."

She quickly nodded and guided you both to your table—private and secluded, away from the crowds of dining guests.

The settings were fancy. Candles lit, drinks already poured, and the gentle music played soft tunes in the background.

With a smile dancing on your lips, you followed Zayne as he guided you to your chair. "What is all of this about?"

Sitting across from you, he linked his fingers at the underside of your chair and pulled you closer. "This is my confession to you. I want to keep you to myself." He gazed into your eyes, his voice softening. "Everytime I look at you and I can't help but want you by my side. Forever and always."

You threw yourself into his embrace, nodding eagerly to accept his feelings, to confirm your own.

And Zayne hugged you back just as eagerly, his face finding purchase at the hollow of your neck. He could feel the pulses of your beating heart—pulsating in response to his.

— RAFAYEL

Rafayel is loud and bold with his confessions and love like fireworks. Though he is waiting for you to meet him halfway.

Warm weather, gentle winds, and perfect sun. All the good factors to hold an outdoor gallery by the beach, and that was exactly what Rafayel planned to do. He had invited you to an event curated just for you, sending you a dress and the venue's address and urging you to be there on time.

"Hello, cutie! You're right on time." He greeted you at the sands of the beach kissed the pavement, taking your hand in his to guide you to what he wanted you to see.

You gasped at the sight.

Carpets of white were laid out over the beige of sand, and purples and pinks of flower petals were thrown across the floor. Canvases upon canvases showcased all around the center part of the gallery. They held the warm, gentle colors of spring and summer, splashed around the vast surfaces in intricate patterns to convey feelings and views witnessed through the eyes of an artist—and they all shared one subject. You.

You were the centerpiece of every canvas, painted delicate and dainty and with love.

Overwhelmed with feelings, you glanced at Rafayel, wanting him to take the helm as you set sail through the waves of emotions.

He took your hand in his, smiling gently, "I take it as you like my little surprise for you?"

"Like it? I love it—I love you!" You blurted out.

Rafayel gasped in surprise, nodding in excitement, "Oh, yes! I love you, too!" His voice rang with the same passion he had poured into each and every painting surrounding you. Bold, and bright, and unapologetic.

He couldn't hold his excitement in any longer and smothered your face with kisses.

Rafayel had always been bold with his choices. Bright colors, flamboyant clothing, and his declarations of love for you. Though he never forced you to reciprocate, always waiting for you to meet him halfway.

And you did.

— SYLUS

Sylus has always been open with his feelings, wearing his heart on his sleeve when it came to you. He's just patiently waiting for you to accept his love.

The city lights blurred into streaks as Sylus sped through the bustling roads. He had you riding behind him and clutching at the sides of his leather jacket as you felt the air resist against your helmet.

Mirror-clad skyscrapers mirrored racing reflections of you and Sylus whenever the motorcycle roared past their glinting surfaces. Sylus drove you through the streets and roads, buildings bleeding into the background until they stood tall and unmoving once the motorcycle came to a stop.

Red light.

Your fingers twitched at Sylus's sides.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

You raised your head up and saw Sylus was already watching you with his visor raised up. He pressed a button at the side of your helmet, forcing your visor to go up as well. Your eyes met his—and you lost yourself in them.

They were captivating, alluring, and they held you with such gentleness that all your worries and woes melted away.

"Sweetie?"

You blinked, eyes flickering from Sylus's to all the prominent features of his face before wavering. You focused on a faraway building, watching its surface catch the gleaming lights of the city. You sighed, "it's nothing."

Sylus was still watching you, and the distant look in your eyes gave you away. Something was bothering you, and you didn't want to let Sylus know.

He breathed out softly, hooking his finger underneath your helmet to redirect your attention back to him. "Listen to me," he said, "no matter what it is and no matter whoever is involved, just say the word and I will take care of it."

"I will," you responded, voice tender and raw. "I trust you will."

"I mean it." Sylus gently bumped his helmet against yours. "I'd do anything for you. You know I love you."

His eyes bore into yours and they spoke of love so deep, so pure. It seeped from his heart and throughout his veins, awaiting just outside the doors of your heart—to be accepted, to be welcomed.

Green light.

The traffic lights illuminated the streets with green, and it was time to go—to move forward and finally welcome his feelings into your heart.

— CALEB

Caleb beats around the bush about his feelings for you. Though he's clear about not wanting anyone else (other than you.) He'd be surprised when you finally admit your feelings for him, too.

"You have to be careful with what you're doing, pip-squeak," Caleb sighed in frustration. "I don't appreciate getting calls during work from people I don't know telling me something's happened to you." He stood up and paced around the room, each step heavy with stress.

He pinched the bridge of his nose before glancing your way. You sat in the middle of the couch, looking guilty and all too sorry for worrying him.

His heart broke a little at the sight.

Caleb crouched in front of you, his arms resting around your knees. "It's just that... I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want to imagine living in a world without you. I love you—"

Upon uttering those three last words, Caleb clamped his mouth shut. He froze in place, never meaning for the words to slip out. He considered backtracking, playing it off as a joke, but he couldn't. He'd never do that. Not to you.

You looked down into his eyes, all quiet and unreadable.

A beat passed.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, Caleb." You smiled at him. "I love you, too."

No response.

"Caleb?" You waved a hand in front of his face.

"—Yeah?" He squeaked out, coming back to his senses. His face flushed deep red.

You laughed.

Caleb had never expected you to return his feelings. He had never meant to confess. But after hearing those three words from you, he felt at peace for the first time in a long while.

And just like that, his world stopped collapsing in on itself—and it settled. Like love had always been there, but it finally had its proper name: you.

likes and reblogs will always be appreciated ♡ let me know what you think!

— set sail for more tales, sailor: ⚲masterlist

— until next tide, thanks for docking by ｡𖦹°‧𓇼

© coralquill 2025 – do not copy, steal, or translate my work.

[soombee]

𖠋 anton lee as your cutie boyfriend !! ; headcannons ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

chanyoung x the five love languages :3

pairing ; lee chanyoung (anton) x reader

contents ; gn ! reader (period mentioned but u can ignore that if u want) , pet names , so much love (LOL) , not proofread ! :c

an ; he’s so boyfriend bruh im crying 😢😢😢 loveyouantonitoni , i was giggling when i made this hehehehhe

publish date ; dec 6, 2024

⟢ you love how you don’t have to ask him for anything. he will always know what you want, what you need. he understands all of your languages fluently, you will never ever have to spend your whole lifetime translating your soul for someone who refuses to understand your heart.

( written content under cut )

physical touch ᰔᩚ

꩜ bf ! anton who’s lifeline is your skin, always looking for an opportunity to stay close to you.

꩜ bf ! anton who’s absolutely in love with holding your waist

꩜ bf ! anton who always keeps a hand on your thigh while he drives, squeezing it occasionally, playfully rubbing circles on your skin

꩜ bf ! anton who pulls you into his lap when he’s sitting, wrapping his arms around your waist (as he watches tv on the couch, as he plays games with seunghan, it doesn’t matter)

꩜ bf ! anton who gives massages whenever you’re sore, always ready to ease your tension (and vice versa)

꩜ bf ! anton who can’t resist tickling you, even though he jumps when you even touch his sides

꩜ bf ! anton who strokes your arm ans rests his head on your shoulder in quiet moments

꩜ bf ! anton who fidgets with your hands when he’s nervous. who lets you, and only you, play with his face and luscious locks (as he calls it)

꩜ bf ! anton who loves when you do his skincare routine or put his hair in little pigtails (maybe both?)

꩜ bf ! anton who will carry you bridal style to the bedroom if you tease him a bit too much..

꩜ bf ! anton who dances with you in the middle of the night to slow love songs, pulling you close and dipping you into the softest of kisses

꩜ bf ! anton who teaches you his group’s choreography, placing his hands gently on your hips and hands to guide you

꩜ bf ! anton who puts your legs on his lap when you’re sitting together

꩜ bf ! anton who slithers his hand under your shirt as you both fall asleep in each other’s presence

꩜ bf ! anton who always holds your hand, no matter what—sweaty palms? don’t care. busy? you have another hand. you need two hands? his other hand is free.

꩜ bf ! anton who, if you’re cuddling and he’s uncomfortable, will lift and readjust you with ease, ensuring you’re still comfortable

꩜ bf ! anton hugs you endlessly, until his cologne clings to your skin, until he makes an imprint on your skin

acts of service .☘︎ ݁

꩜ bf ! anton who fixes your clothes when he notices they’re misplaced or wrinkled, always making sure you look your best

꩜ bf ! anton who ties your shoes for you, even if it means dirtying his knee (you’d feel bad) (he doesn’t care)

꩜ bf ! anton who feeds you his food on dates because he catches you staring at his plate

꩜ bf ! anton who gently wipes your face with tissues, whether it’s messy from food or streaked with tears

꩜ bf ! anton who carries pads or tampons with him just in case you’re caught off guard (stupid periods)

꩜ bf ! anton who offers to paint your nails when he notices they’re chipped, making them perfect again

꩜ bf ! anton who keeps a lint roller in his car because he knows how much you hate lint on your clothes

꩜ bf ! anton who carries you from the beach to clean the sand off your feet, knowing how much stepping on wet sand irritates you

꩜ bf ! anton who plans self care nights with matching pajamas, face masks, and doing each other’s skincare routines

꩜ bf ! anton who takes care of you when you’re sick, drunk, or just feeling down, because loving you is his favorite thing to do

words of affirmation ⋆｡°•☁︎

꩜ bf ! anton who will always want to know how you feel, how you’re doing, and loves getting updates about your day

꩜ bf ! anton who sends you random paragraphs while you’re asleep, pouring his thoughts into messages you’ll wake up to

꩜ bf ! anton who loves to writes silly love letters when you’re away, hiding them in your jacket pockets for you to find later

꩜ bf ! anton who calls you beautiful, the love of his life, his wife, his everything—making sure you always feel adored

꩜ bf ! anton who is soft spoken but intentional, leaving no room for doubt about how much he loves and cherishes you

꩜ bf ! anton who craves long, intimate talks in the dead of night, with only your voice and soft music filling the air

- but i’m falling behind. “i’m still so proud of you, my yn”

- do you still love me? “always in all ways”

- i did it!!! “i knew you could do it!”

- did you see that, toni?! “that’s my baby”

- you deserve more than me.. “you complete me”

- i look so ugly today.. “the presence of you give my butterflies”

- i hope you have fun w riize today!! don’t worry about texting me :) “don’t be ridiculous, i’ll update you, baby”

gift giving / receiving 𝜗𝜚

꩜ bf ! anton who loves giving you gifts, whether they’re expensive or handmade, because he loves spoiling you

꩜ bf ! anton who surprises you with two jellycats every week—one resembling you and the other him—because you casually mentioned wanting one

꩜ bf ! anton who immediately says, “okay, let’s go,” when a new movie you’ve been waiting for is released, happily paying for tickets

꩜ bf ! anton who fully supports your new collection, making sure to contribute whenever he can (smiskis, sonny angels, legos, etc)

꩜ bf ! anton who snoops through your tiktok reposts to find things he can buy or create just to make you smile

꩜ bf ! anton who makes pipe cleaner versions of your favorite flowers, even though they’re slightly (noticeably) wonky

꩜ bf ! anton who turns your polaroid obsession into a reason to make you a custom journal filled with your memories

꩜ bf ! anton who isn’t great at arts and crafts but always tries, just to see your radiant smile and flushed cheeks that he loves so much

꩜ bf ! anton who cherishes the gifts you give him just as much, turning it into an unspoken little competition between you two

꩜ bf ! anton who lights up and lifts you up in the air when you surprise him with the shoes he’s been wanting for months

꩜ bf ! anton who treasures the little things, like the seashell you found and thought of him

꩜ bf ! anton who proudly wears the white tee you transformed with pink lipstick kisses, saying it’s his favorite shirt

꩜ bf ! anton who notices the way you handpick his favorite candies just because they’re his favorite color

꩜ bf ! anton who doesn’t care about any material thing because to him, you’re the greatest gift he’s ever received

quality time 𖤐

꩜ bf ! anton who doesn’t care whether you go out or stay in; he just wants to bask in your presence

꩜ bf ! anton who refuses to let you spend money on him because your company is all he ever needs in life

꩜ bf ! anton who will follow you anywhere—even if he’s sore from practice—because being with you is worth the cramps

꩜ bf ! anton who stays mentally present, writing down random plans in your shared calendar and putting his phone away to focus on you

꩜ bf ! anton who never sees you as needy and never complains about the time you spend together, only that there isn’t enough time in the year

꩜ bf ! anton who drags you along to his photoshoots, shoots, and backstage moments, just to have you nearby

꩜ bf ! anton who will always ask if you want to run errands with him, knowing your answer is (and will always be) yes

꩜ bf ! anton who loves random facetimes, sleep calls, and mornings spent getting ready together

꩜ bf ! anton who “helps” you in the kitchen but really just makes a mess and watches you with heart eyes, his drool pooling below him

꩜ bf ! anton who craves the simplest forms of intimacy: skin to skin, soft words, and just being near each other

purely © soombee ‘s work ― all rights reserved !! please refrain from copying , stealing , or translating my work ( w/o permission ) thanku!

taglist (open) ! @1starqi

[hotteokyu]

who are you, who am I

Synopsis ~ No words. No sight. No thoughts. You grew here in this cell, alone. You realize there’s a person on the other side of the cell wall when you hear his cries. You can’t speak. You can’t see. You can’t touch. But he becomes your closest friend. Closer than the silence of the cell. Until that silence is disturbed. And you need more than his soft voice. You need to escape. You need him.

Pairing ~ prisoner!yunho x prisoner!reader

Word count ~ 13.8k

Genre / warnings ~ explicit sexual content MINORS DNI, romance, prisoners, cells, handcuffed, muzzle, blindfolded, mention of forced pregnancy, cult-like implications, stripped for an audience, non-consensual touching at times, a bit disturbing, kind of a roller coaster, murder, blood, cursing, forbidden love, fight for love, yunho's an idol, yunho not referred to by name for most of it, petnames: puppy / princess / baby / etc., desperate touching, desperate love, masturbation, shower sex, oral sex (male recieving), kissing, grinding, rough sex, crying, comfort

a/n ~ tell me what you think ;p

     There’s a person on the other side of the wall. 

     Tied up with thick cuffs, a tight muzzle around your mouth, dark cloth over your eyes. You see the wall with your hands as you roam your cell when master goes away. 

     The lonely, timeless days and nights are all the same, except now you have a friend. 

     He’s silly. When he wants to say hello, he taps the wall in a cute way, tap tip-tip tap tap. 

     He enjoys your company too, becoming comfortably silent as you hum him a song. Your lips can’t move because of the muzzle, so all you’ve ever confessed to him are your songs. 

     He sings for you too, and you love his voice. It’s low, and, if you press close enough to the wall, you can feel its vibrations. 

     You call him puppy in your head because whenever you want to play with him, you hear him eagerly scrambling to get to the wall, just like a little puppy. 

     You wonder what your puppy looks like. You wonder why master keeps him. You wonder if he wonders the same things about you. 

     But today is exciting. Today is a shower day. You’re not sure how often master lets you shower, but you haven’t gone out since you first noticed your new friend. You can hardly sleep, you’re so excited. 

     This could be your chance to see him. 

       The guard comes just as the black of your blindfold starts turning to a dark gray. He guides you with a padded arm out of your cell. You know the exact placement of every crevice in the cell relative to you. You stub your foot into the side of the entrance as he guides you out. You fall to the ground with a harsh slam. The concrete isn’t kind to your skin, and you feel your blood trickle onto the ground nicely. 

     The guard curses and grabs your scraped arm, pulling you to stand. He’s impatient, the tight schedule of the dungeon pulling his mind toward careless rushing. 

     He guides you again, whispering to himself in annoyance, and you stumble over his foot, almost crashing to the ground again. 

     “Fuck!” he growls. “Why do you need this stupid fucking blindfold anyway?!” He’s whispering but screaming in frustration, spitting into the air as his hand yanks the blindfold from your eyes. 

     And suddenly the light is blinding you for the first time in forever. 

     “Don’t tell anyone, bitch,” the guard spits, and you nod, blinking rapidly as he urges you to move again. 

     You go right, eyeing the next cell. Its glass is squeaky clean. He’s new, just like you thought. As you walk, slowly, stumbling in pain, you look closely into the cell, and, finally, you see him there. 

     Your puppy. 

     He’s big, hands tied up on his bed and black prisoner rags baggy on his figure. His muzzle matches yours, by what you’ve gathered from feeling it, desperately scratching to get it off. His head lays sleepily and sadly on the mattress, and his hair is a dark brown, nearly black, wavy as it falls into his eyes. And his eyes… aren’t covered like yours should be. They’re wide, and beautiful, and gazing right at you. Your puppy nearly jumps from his bed, his pupils trembling, but you slowly shake your head, and he freezes. 

     You love your puppy even more now, innocent and adorable as he begs you with his eyes to stay in his view. But the only thing you can give him is a squint of your eyes to show your attempt at a soft smile. 

     And then you turn the corner, and he’s gone. 

     You shut your eyes tight, facing straight forward as the guard guides you, though you know the route by heart. When you stop, it’s not at the showers, and when the guard suddenly hits the floor, you know he’s dead. 

     “My, look at you.” Master’s voice is chilling, but you’ve grown numb to it over time. He likes to talk, for you can do nothing but listen. “My favorite girl knows how to act,” he praises. The blindfold, lying uselessly around your neck, is yanked back over your eyes. “She knows that if she opens her eyes, she’ll be killed.” He pats your shoulder, stroking it lightly with his thumb, and you press your lips together tightly, the uncomfortable damp warmth of his skin making a quick gag approaching their seal. You feel his breath beside your ear, a thick string of drool between his teeth as he stretches his lips with his words. “I might have to reward her.”

       The shower never felt so rewarding as it does after having that creature lay his hand on you. You can hear his slime slick from his skin to the floor as he moves. As the cold water spills over your shoulders, you sigh, feeling it all melt away as if it’s steaming. 

     The water slides down your bare body, one you’ve never seen, its form unfamiliar to you, as you haven’t known yourself since being a little girl. You feel the metal of the belt around your hips. You don’t know why they cover your genitals with this belt, but it makes cleaning very difficult. 

     But now, alone where no one but the stream can see you, you could grin if not for the muzzle restricting your lips. Your mind keeps straying to his face, one you’ve, since you first heard his gentle cry from the other side of that wall, dreamed of seeing. You were able to witness for a split second. And you’re addicted.

As soon as you’re put back in your cage and the clacks of the guard’s shoes leave the hallway, your puppy scrambles to the wall. He hums softly but eagerly, quietly so that no one knows, but loud enough for you to know it's desperate. He whines softly until you hum back. You can imagine him now, head resting against the wall, hair dragging softly along its surface as he stares into the concrete as if he might see you. He wants to see you again, you can feel it in the whimpers as he scrapes against the wall. You want to see him again, too. But that desire can’t overtake you. You’ve lived here, grown here in this dungeon. You know patience is the only way you can even have the privilege of thinking about getting what you want. 

     For now, you close your eyes and think of your beautiful puppy’s face. You drift to sleep like that, listening to his soft, even breaths. 

     When you awake, the blindfold is pitch black. The dungeon is silent except for your puppy’s breath. It isn’t even or calm. He must be having a bad dream. He’s panting, soft, muffled whimpers reaching your ears. You sit up, your brows furrowing. Something isn’t right. There’s a new sound, one you’ve never heard before, from his side of the wall. Something slow and wet rubbing together. Could it be that the poor puppy was so scared in his sleep that he had an accident?

     “Mm?” you call out softly, and he gasps. The noise stops instantly, and he goes silent. You hum again, quietly, with pure concern, and he whimpers, almost guiltily. 

     No, it’s okay, puppy, you’re not in trouble. 

     But then the sound continues, and he lets out a shaky breath. You smell something sweet in the air, something warm and new. Your eyes grow wide as it all clicks suddenly. Looking down at your hands tied in front of you, your mind wanders quickly to what he might be doing just a few inches away from you. He’s panting now, his breaths vocal and soft and desperate. He’s trying to hold his voice back, his nose working hard but failing to breathe. You hear him squirm against the concrete, and you can imagine it vividly, having seen him with your own eyes. And he’s beautiful, pleasuring himself. His voice, higher than its usual low, soothing tone, needy and shameless. His body, thin yet large, clinging to the wall as he bends his tied arms uncomfortably just to make himself feel good. It’s wet. It’s so wet. He’s leaking all over himself, his precum lubing himself as he goes faster and faster. 

     Puppy has never acted like this before. Why is he suddenly so desperate? And why is just hearing him like this making you so dazed?

     His breath grows heavier, his movements desperate, his rhythm lost until it suddenly stops, and his voice disappears, the wet slide of his hand going slow until it stops completely, and he’s able to catch his breath. 

     You sigh, leaning your head against the wall. He had all that fun without you and expects you to be patient with your plan? How are you not supposed to rush to see him?

     You sleep on your bed for the rest of the night. He deserves to sleep alone after making everything so much more difficult for you. You could scream into your pillow. You need more than just hums and songs through the wall. You need to be with him. 

       Master comes to visit you more often these days. He never comes inside, and you’re grateful. He just talks to you, tells you about his problems. It’s good that he’s warming up to you, that you’re his favorite. You want something from him. 

     On the seventh time he comes to visit, you come up close to the glass and put your hand against it.

     “What is it, girl?” he asks, coming closer. You can hear his breath near your face, but you force yourself to stay there. You slowly reach with your hands and grasp your muzzle, tilting your head with furrowed, pleading brows. Then, you touch the glass again, right where his breath sounds. He hums. “Now, what could my little girl possibly need her mouth for?” But, of course, you can’t tell him. You sit there, pleading with your grip on the glass, until he sighs. “I suppose she could keep me company.” 

     That night, when the blindfold starts to grow darker, the muzzle is unlatched from your jaw. Your face aches and trembles as you stretch your lips for the first time in years. It hurts, but it’s so amazing, finally having your jaw free. Finally, you can start your escape. 

     Master doesn’t come back for a while. He said he will be busy, but you should reteach yourself to speak properly for when he returns. You will. You’ll talk all night long, all day, all week, forever to your wall. For your master, of course. 

     Puppy knocks quietly on the wall, and you’re the one who scrambles to meet him there in excitement. He’ll be so happy. He’ll want to escape with you. He’ll help you, and you can get out of here. And you’ll be together.

     Your breath trembles as you gaze at the black of the cloth, sitting on the cold floor in your tightly bound clothing, staring toward the wall. He’s silent. He must have heard everything. He listens well when you have visitors. He must know that he’ll finally be able to hear you speak to him. 

     “I…” Your voice is soft, only for his ears. “I’m Y/n.” He hums happily. Maybe he likes your name. “Do you know… you’re so pretty?” you ask, knowing he can’t answer. He’s quiet, and you can imagine the soft blush on his cheeks. “I’ve been alone for years. You’re my only friend. All I want is to see you again. You’re so pretty…” You lean your head against the wall, wishing it wasn’t there more than ever. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

     “Mhm!” he immediately responds, and you can’t stop the wide smile that you can finally make without close restrictions.

     “Is that why you were so worked up? The time you saw me?” He goes quiet, even his little excited breaths disappearing for a moment. 

     “Mhm…” He’s quiet, embarrassed. 

     Your face starts to heat up, as if you could feel his warm breath across your skin. “It’s not fair,” you whisper, “that you get to touch yourself when I can’t.” He huffs, a soft laugh echoing throughout the cells. “Is that funny?” you scoff, but he just continues his gentle laugh until you can’t help but smile too, tilting your head in disbelief.

     You lay and talk to him for hours. Or forever. You can’t keep track of time, but the cloth grows grey, and you’re still talking. He’s so engaging, in all ways that he can be. You tell him stories of your life before coming here and even funny things you’ve encountered in the cell. You ask him how the world has changed, and he’s mostly responded no to your guesses. 

     “But who are you,” you sigh, laying on your back, staring at the ceiling through the thick mask over your eyes. “What’s your name? I want to know so bad.” He sighs. “How old are you? Why are you here? What was your life like?” But he can’t answer. “For now, you’ll just be my friend.”

       “My girl, your voice is as pretty as ever. You’re almost fully developed, I can see. Soon, we’ll put you on display for the elders.” Master takes your hands in his, clasping them harshly, and you fight the urge to pull away. “Since the elders would love you even more with those lips of yours bound up, I’ll let you have them out until they see you.” You force a soft smile. 

     “Thank you,” you whisper, “Master.”

     “Oh, that sounds nice,” he coos. “Is that what you call me in that tiny head of yours?” You nod. “How obedient.”

     “I want to be good for you.” 

     He sighs with a soft chuckle. “I knew you were special since you were just a little girl. Now, look at you.”

     Fuck, you’re going to throw up. No, no, hold it in.

     “Thank you for looking after me, Master,” you say, keeping the smile plastered on your lips.

     He sighs before moving away from you. “Prepare her carefully over the next few days. Make her perfect. By Sunday, I want her in the tank.”

     Your eyes grow wide in both horror and relief. This is it. 

     “Thank you, Master,” You say, and his hand taps your cheek.

     “Enjoy your voice, girl. It’ll be gone again soon.”

      “Puppy, don’t be scared,” you whisper through the wall. He’s breathing heavily, soft, suppressed sobs escaping his lips. “Shhh… It’ll be okay. I’ll protect you no matter what.”

     “Mhm,” he whimpers. “Mhm. Mhm…” His voice is breaking. He’s crying, and yet you can’t reach out and wipe the tears from his cheeks. Your fists clench, bound together uselessly. 

     “I won’t go anywhere without you,” you whisper.

     The footsteps echoing through the hall don’t belong to a guard or master. It’s someone new.

     “I’ll come back for you no matter what.”

     “L/n. Please come with me.” It’s a lady. She has a soft voice, but she raises it knowingly to something commanding yet comforting. She won’t hurt you. She’s simply following orders. No malice. No evil. You get up, staring at the wall as if you could see it or your puppy sitting with wide, tear filled eyes, desperately trying to be silent. 

     You follow her. No need for a guide. When she sits you down in a cushioned chair, she slowly removes the blindfold from your eyes. The room is dimly lit, as they understand you haven’t used your eyes in years. You keep them closed. 

     “Open your eyes,” she says, and you do. “Look straight ahead. Do not let them stray.” You do. 

     In front of you is a TV. You saw them in your home when you were younger before the day you were sold away. It’s a small box, showcasing an auditorium. You’ve only ever seen one of those once when you went to a theater with your mother. The audience on the TV is filled with old people, both men and women. They’re watching the stage, but you can’t see what exactly it is. The camera is on the stage, it seems. 

     “Have you seen their faces before?” the lady asks, and you stare harder at the screen. Glancing from face to face, you come to realize, you know only one. You nod. “Which one?”

     “Right side. Third row. Seven seats in.”

     She writes it down. 

     “Any others?”

     “No.”

     “And who is that lady then? Whom you recognize?” 

     She’s old, but, of course, anyone would recognize her if they were you. You dreamed about her face every night or whenever sleep would grace you. You dreamed about what you would do to her if you ever saw her again. Old, wrinkly, and ugly, but surely her…

     “My mother.”

     She writes it down. 

     “How many years have passed,” you ask curiously. You can’t take your eyes off of her. Senses unbound completely, your expression contorts into something small and furious, “since the day I came here.”

     “Don’t scrunch your face,” she says, and you stop. “We’ve worked hard preserving your features. Don’t ruin it, or he’ll kill you for being useless.”

     Your brow twitches at the new information. Preserving your features? That makes sense. In your muzzle and blindfold, you could hardly move your face, your smiles stiff and restrained, features moving but hardly without great pain. 

     “Will I get to meet her again?” you ask, and she writes silently, the scribbles of the pencil filling the room as you watch the old people on the screen, frustration filling you.

     “You’ll know soon enough.” She senses your body heat rising quickly. “Be patient.”

     Right, she’s right. Patience.

     “She’ll be rewarded greatly for her sacrifice,” she says.

     “Who are the elders? Them?” you question, but she doesn’t answer.  

     “Tomorrow, you’ll be groomed and then put in a new cell so you look perfect for Sunday.”

     “What day is it today?” you ask, a sudden rush of concern hitting you. Do you only have a day to figure everything out?

     “Return her to her cell.”

     No. No, that’s not enough time. You thought you had more time. You can’t figure everything out in a day. If you’re taken away… you won’t get to escape. It’ll be over. You can’t do it. You can’t figure it out.

     Rough hands cover your features with your muzzle and blindfold, and everything is once again locked away.

       Your cell is silent until it’s not. The guard has left, but there’s a body looming over you. Your eyes are wide, your lips quivering. They smell familiar, and the trembling breath is something you know well, but it’s not possible. It isn’t until soft, trembling hands scratch at your blindfold that you see him. His forehead is pressed against yours, his body pushing you into the wall. His brows are pinched as he desperately gazes from one eye to the other. Puppy.

     His whimpers would meet your lips if not for the muzzles surrounding our mouths. He’s surrounding you completely, much bigger, much stronger than you, but he doesn’t even realize it, trying to be closer and closer to you. Though your hands are bound, he wants to touch you, sitting between your legs as he brings your bodies as close as possible. 

     You’re confused, and concerned, and overwhelmed, but the happiness of seeing your puppy right here in front of you overshadows all of those feelings. Tears are dripping from his eyes, maybe from bliss or worry. It’s so beautiful. 

     You lean closer, letting your head fall to his shoulder. His whimpers meet your ear, his soft breaths matching your own. 

     You look around and immediately spot the hole in the corner of your cell. Fuck, if anyone finds that, you’re both dead. You’ll cover it with your bed. It makes you laugh, just how small the hole is compared to your big puppy. He must have been so desperate to see you, squeezing in any way he could. 

     And then your laugh fades, and a tear drips from your eye. 

     It’ll be okay. 

     You push him away gently, and even so he’s reluctant. It takes a soft, reassuring hum to get him to move away. His eyes are so pretty, big and bloodshot, just for you to gaze into. You slowly close your eyes, and he pulls the blindfold over them once again. Then he’s gone, the soft scrape of your bed against the concrete sealing him into his side of the wall. 

It’ll be okay. 

You’re stripped almost completely, the only things left being the cuffs around your wrists, the chastity belt, and the muzzle around your jaw. A body once bound tightly by clothing is now bare. Your youthful features are perfect in their eyes. They’ve done a phenomenal job preserving them. To you, they’re unfamiliar. Ugly. Not your own. The only thing familiar to you which you want at all is your puppy. The compliments they give you as you walk down the halls, eyes unbound but closed, are disgusting, if anything, but meaningless. You become deaf for the first time in years. Your only sense has always been your hearing, but now you forget that too. You are nothing for the long minutes walking mindlessly down the hall, hands tied to a man, tied to Master, tied to the audience that you will be presented to. 

     When you open your eyes again, the tank is here. It’s on the stage which was blocked on the TV. It’s full of clear liquid, but it must not be water. Its surface doesn’t dare move. It’s thick, almost solid. The final preservation. 

     “Ladies and gentlemen!” Master has never raised his voice to such an extent before. It’s always been quiet and broken, just for your ears. Now, he speaks to hundreds, if not thousands of elders much like him. “Our latest graduate! Her visuals are phenomenal, voice like a siren, and obedient like the perfect woman!” The room erupts in a quick laughter. “We’ve grown her from a young girl to a beautiful adult, donated by one amongst you! Please take a close look! She’s a beauty!” 

     You’re urged forward, your feet stumbling momentarily until you’re brought under a blinding spotlight. You can’t see the audience anymore, only imagine the faces some of them would make as he described you. Tongues darting out, wrinkly, cracked lips wetted, smirks, trembles as they said something to the person beside them. The years locked in your cell, you could never even guess as to why you were locked away. You still have no idea what’s happening, but if you had known your eyes would adjust to this light and see those faces, staring at you, drooling at you, bare in front of them, you would have risked it all to run away. Fuck patience. 

     Now your master’s slimy, clammy hands are pushing you toward that tank. And you can say nothing. Do nothing but look. Hands and mouth bound, you can do nothing but look.

     The liquid is thick. You’ve only ever touched water, so what could this possibly be? It’s sticky, drawing you inside slowly and carefully. To your legs. To your hips. Your body trembles, cold, terrified. 

     “This graduate is simply too perfect to sell,” Master explains to the audience, gently stroking your hair. You almost give in and push him away. “But, if we have one perfect girl, why not twenty more? Why not fifty?!” He laughs, and everyone follows along. “I’m sure you’ve read all about our new technology! It’s revolutionary! This fluid preserves her youthful features both externally and internally. Her eggs won’t die with age. She can produce to her full capability while frozen in the tank! Isn’t it wonderful?”

     You can hear your heart over the oohs and aahs of the creatures in the crowd. It’s loud and fast yet not fast enough to support your churning mind. Should you kill yourself right now? That thought enters twice for every three thoughts of escape entering your mind. You really should. You should just kill yourself before your body enters this fluid completely. 

     It’s up to your chest, your arms frozen practically solid already. You’re gone. You’re done. You can’t even end your life. This is your ending. 

     It’s to your neck. Your heartbeat is gone from your ears, from your chest, but it continues on. It’s odd. It’s frozen, but you move slowly into it. It stops all functions, but all of your senses are enhanced within its cold envelope. It seeps into the muzzle, filling what little space is creviced in its metal to your lips to your jaw. You can’t breathe, but somehow the fluid breathes for you, air entering and exiting your lungs at a steady rhythm. Your ears. You can’t hear any longer, as if you could before. As if everything hadn’t gone numb the second you learned the truth. The second you saw the tank. The audience. Your eyes are too late to close as they’re submerged in the fluid. They won’t close. They won’t flutter. They look out into the audience, wide and unrestricted. Finally, you can see. Forever you’ll see. This is what you’ll see. The top of your head is overtaken by the fluid, and the tank closes. Everything is silent. Everything is numb. Everything is fucking over. 

     And you have to watch it all happen.

     Master comes around the front of the tank holding a tube of sorts. He opens a little door on the front of the tank and reaches into the fluid. Nothing spills out. It stays obediently still. He reaches the tube toward your chastity belt, but freezes, his eyes darting to the tank. Through the tank. He looks terrified, eyes bulging from their sockets. He drops the tube, desperately tugging at his arm to free it from the fluid. He turns to run, but a hand grabs his hair and slams him to the ground. You would start sobbing at the sight. Puppy, livid, veins bulging from his arms to his neck to his face. He raises his arms high, and when he slams them down, an axe splits Master’s head from his neck. The blood sprays over the glass of the tank, covering it completely. You hear a muffled slam and then the entirety of the glass shatters all at once. It collapses around you, but the fluid stays all the same. You see him, panting, painted red, glaring at you as he grips the axe, now snapped in two. 

     When he finally drops it, his brows soften, his veins pulsing but calming as he reaches out. His hands rush through the fluid, faster than they should be able to. He grabs you, and he pulls you to him until only the remnants of the fluid touch your skin, and you’re held tightly in his arms. You fall limp, the coating of the fluid preventing you from being able to move much. Even if you could, you might’ve just let your puppy take you away, leaning your cheek against his chest. The hallway, as he runs from the stage, is covered in blood from the floor to the ceiling. You close your eyes, feeling his hold on you tighten the further he travels and the bloodier the stench and the sight becomes. Until you hear something you haven’t heard in years. 

     Birds. 

     Trees. 

     Wind.

     Him. 

     You let your eyes look up into the sky. It’s so blue. Who knew something could be so blue?

     You recognize the glass box, the phone, the city. It’s timeless, unchanging from what you remember. It’s familiar. How nice. Puppy sets you down, and you lean weakly against the glass. He strips his shirt from his skin and quickly fumbles it over your head. What was tight on him is huge on you, covering you from your shoulders to your thighs. His chest is bare, but he doesn’t care.

     He works quickly on your cuffs. They’re practically unbreakable. Night after night, you would desperately rub them and scratch them and bang them however you could, but they were unbreakable. He snapped them in two, the metal falling to your lap uselessly. Your hands tremble as they reach out… uncuffed. His eyes look from one to the other as your hands cup his cheeks, fingers wrapping around the latch to his muzzle. It’s much like yours, only bigger. With a few motions, it too was gone, and you could see his pretty features completely. He was adorable, soft, newly abused lips perfect and plump, trembling as he paws at your own muzzle. He must not know how to take it off. His lips form a gentle scowl in frustration as he grips and pulls at it. You let him struggle for a while, smiling softly. How nice this feels… to be wanted so desperately. To be loved so thoroughly. 

     “Y/n,” he whimpers, and your eyes twitch, tears just touching the surface at the simple sound, so low, so pretty from his voice. “Help me, please,” he whispers. 

     You cover his hands with your own, and he leans his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed as you slowly unlatch your muzzle. You set it aside and run your fingers through his hair, pulling his head just a bit closer. His breath trembles against your lips, so comforting as you start to shiver in the cool breeze. 

     “What’s your name?” you whisper, and his eyes flutter open.

     “Yunho,” he answers, gazing at your lips as they form a gentle smile. 

     “Yunho,” you repeat. “Yunho. Yunho is pretty too. So pretty.”

     “You lied to me, Y/n,” he whispers, and your smile fades. He’s hurt. “You said you would come back no matter what, but you didn’t.” His jaw clenches, and your lip trembles as you slowly slide your hands from his hair. 

     “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I’m sorry, Yunho, I-”

     He grabs your hands and keeps them there, stopping their retreat. He shakes his head quickly. “No, it’s okay,” he says. “It’s okay, Y/n, I came for you. I wanted to promise you that I would and- and I wanted to help you, but I couldn’t say anything, but now I can. I would have followed you even if you never came back.” He nods, gazing into your wide, tear-filled eyes. “Just don’t go, please. Please, don’t go. Stay here, a-nd we’ll get help, and we’ll be o-okay.” 

     You nod immediately, and his hands slowly slip from yours, a soft sigh leaving his lips. 

     He looks away, a deep blush on his blood-splattered cheeks. “Thank you,” he mumbles, a small, relieved smile shyly spreading on his lips.

     The change piled on the phone, a kind gesture by the locals, trembles as he picks them up one by one. He takes a shaky breath as he finally brings the phone to his ear. It clicks softly as the other person picks up. “Hyung…”

  You wait in an alleyway. It’s dark, the only light flickering above your heads. You’re tucked close together, your face nuzzled into the side of his neck. It’s freezing, but you have nothing but the heat of your bodies to keep you warm. His friend is coming quickly, but it’s been an hour at least. You’re both shivering, breathing the same air, holding each other close. Until the alley lights up, and a car screeches to a halt a bit away. You both glance up, eyes wide and hopeful. 

     “Yunho!” a man shouts, stumbling out of the car. He rushes over to you as Yunho slowly helps you to your feet.      

     “Yunho, I’m gonna kill you!” another man, a lighter voice, screams as he jumps out of the other side. 

     They both run, tears streaming down their cheeks as they collide with their friend. Yunho stumbles against the wall. The tinier one holds him so tightly, placing kisses all over his face as he sobs. The taller one’s eyes are wide, wiping the blood from Yunho’s cheeks, bombarding him with questions. 

     Yunho holds you close against him, unforgotten, even as they don’t even notice you at first. 

     “Get in the car quickly,” the taller one urges, pushing the both of you gently toward the vehicle. “What’s your name, sweety?” he asks, voice low and comforting to your frozen ears. 

     “Y/n,” you say, voice trembling. 

     “I’m Seonghwa,” he says softly. “This is Wooyoung.” He asks you no questions, and you’re so grateful. You just want to be warm. 

     The car is so toasty, the seats a heater themselves as you sit in its sanctuary. You want to melt into them, hardly registering as Wooyoung buckles you in before quickly getting into the front seat. You close your eyes, sighing in relief. Finally, out of the cold, out of danger, with your puppy. Everything is alright. 

     “Yunho,” Seonghwa’s deep voice softly begins, “what happened?”

     He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, taking a slow breath. “I woke up in a cell,” he says, and your heart aches. So they take everyone in their sleep. “They put a muzzle on me a-nd cuffed my hands.” He bites his lip. “And they gave me shots every day.”

     “What the fuck?!” Wooyoung shouts, turning back in horror. “They fucking drugged you?! What were they for?! Who the fuck are they?!”

     “I don’t know,” Yunho groans. “But my body feels so weird now.” You watch as he swallows hard. “I get aggressive and weirdly strong sometimes… How long was I gone?” 

     It’s silent for a long moment “About four months,” Seonghwa says. He grips the steering wheel hard, his knuckles growing white. “ATEEZ is on hiatus. Your disappearance became public after the first month.”

     “ATEEZ…?” you mumble to yourself.

     “It’s on the news daily. They haven’t closed the case,” Wooyoung says. “Though they’re close to. Fuck, I’m so glad you’re okay. We’ll go to the police and call everyone over.”

     Yunho has such a relieved, happy smile on his face, lightening his features so nicely. He’s leaning his head on the seat, his hand gently touching yours as the car silently drives through the city streets. 

     “How did you and Y/n meet?” Seonghwa asks curiously.

     “She was in the cell next to mine. We couldn’t talk or anything, but we, like, sang or.. hummed to each other… and stuff…” His voice trails off as he looks out the window with a deep blush trailing from the tip of his nose to his ears. 

     “Wow!” Wooyoung’s exasperated sound turns to a loud laugh. “You’re truly an idol, Jeong Yunho!” 

     You gasp, and his face turns deeper into the window. “You’re an idol?”

     He nods. 

     You’re about to freak out, but Wooyoung changes the topic quickly. 

     “By the way, Y/n, what uh.. are you covered in? Like, what is all that?” 

     You look down at your bare arms and almost gag at the dried, sticky goo all over your skin. You forgot all about it. 

     “I wish I knew,” you mumble. 

     “Hyung, can you take us to the dorms first? So we can get clothes and showers please,” Yunho asks, and Seonghwa nods through the mirror, smiling sweetly. 

       “Should I call a manager?” Seonghwa asks as Yunho guides you through the apartment. “Does she need he-?”

     “No,” he interrupts, and you all wince, pausing at the bite in the word. His expression is scrunched, stern, mean, but it softens quickly. “No, we’ll be okay, Hyung, thank you.”

     “We’ll pick you up in the mor-!”

     The door was closed before you could even register being dragged gently into a room. Yunho’s breath is a bit uneven. Is he feeling sick? Maybe overwhelmed? He’s looking around the room a bit frantically. Everything is nice and clean, you note. Maybe his friends… or members took care of the room while he was gone. Yunho brings you to his bed and sits you down with a reassuring smile, but it twitches softly. 

     “Yunho,” you mumble, and he pauses to gaze into your confused eyes. “Are you okay?”

     He nods. “I’m okay,” he says softly. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

     He starts to walk away, but you reach out and take hold of his fingers, and he stops. “Where are you going?” you ask, gazing shyly at him. He lets a giddy smile stretch his lips. 

     “I’m going to start the shower,” he says, and you hesitantly let go of him. “You can wash first, but wait here while I get it ready.”

     “Will…” you swallow hard, staring down at your sticky hands with flushed cheeks. “Will you go with me?” His eyes are hooded, gazing at you as you tug at his shirt draped over you. “I need help getting it all off of me, and…” You lift the shirt just enough for the metal of the belt to peak out.

     “Of course, I’ll go with you,” he breathes, staring at what you’ve exposed with a heavy breath. He gently tilts your chin, his thin eyes gazing at your plump lips as he runs his thumb over them gently. He bends down, his warm breath meeting yours. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away suddenly and bringing you to your feet. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

     The water fills the bathroom with a soft steam, but he makes sure you feel it so it’s not too hot. You’ve never had a warm shower before. You’ve never showered with another person, let alone your favorite person. You already know it’ll be your new favorite thing. 

     Yunho strips behind you as you’re testing the water with your hand. You hear his clothes drop to the floor, but you don’t turn around, until his fingers are tugging lightly at the shirt on your shoulders.

     “Do you want to keep this on for now, Y/n?” he asks, and you shiver at the low sound of his voice as he says your name. It’s sensual, weirdly erotic, even though it’s just your name. You shake your head. “You don’t have to take it off. We can clean you with it on.” 

     “No,” you mumble, turning around to face him. You keep your gaze high, watching his gentle eyes with flushed cheeks. His ears are red, the tips so bright. “You can take it off.” His eyes twitch as they lower to the top. They seem to be growing less big, less shy, and a little darker.

     His fingers slip under the shirt, grazing your skin. It’s soft in some places, sticky in others. You can’t wait to feel him against you once you're clean and untarnished from that place. You want him to rewrite everything with his hands. Make you forget. Make you his own. 

     He slides them higher, and you slowly lift your arms with his subtle command. The shirt falls to the floor, and he groans softly as he gazes at your chest, your nipples erect from the sudden chill. 

     He guides you quickly into the shower, and the warm stream feels like heaven on your shivering skin. You’re covered in little bumps as you try to drown every inch of your body in its warmth. Yunho watches as you sigh under the water, loving how it slips from your hair to your shoulders to your hands. Every part of you is beautiful. He wants to feel every inch, every crevice. He just needs that fucking metal torn from your hips first. But he can be patient. If he breaks it now, he won’t be able to control himself. 

     So, as he joins you under the stream, he distracts his thoughts with your happy little smile, indulging himself with his own. You’re soaked, and he can’t help but gently push your dripping hair from your forehead, revealing your squinted, pretty eyes, big and shining just for him. 

     “It’s gonna feel so good once you’re all soft and fluffy,” he says. The goo from the tank is softening and melting in the water. You let Yunho scrub you softly, your hair first, making it smooth and clean, your arms next. He’s focused, cleaning every speck thoroughly until your skin is perfect. Your legs are next, from your thighs to your feet, he kisses softly as he cleans, and it sends little jolts of flutters to your stomach… and to your core. You keep your eyes locked on his hair as it rubs against your clean skin slowly with his careful motions. He turns you around, and your eyes meet the tiled wall. He gently moves your hair as he cleans your back. It feels so nice, therapeutic, and it’s making you relaxed, as if he could take care of you forever, and you would entrust yourself completely to him. 

     “Here, love,” he whispers, handing you the loofah. “Do you want to clean your front?” 

     You blush as you gaze down at your breasts. They would fit so nicely in his hands, the soft scratch of the loofah teasing your nipples. Your eyes grow wide as you quickly shake away your thoughts.

     “Would you feel more comfortable?”

     You could melt at the warmth of his heart. He’s the sweetest thing you’ll ever know. 

     “No,” you breathe, slowly taking his hand and guiding it to your chest. “I need your help here too,” you whisper.

     A soft chuckle meets your ear, and you shiver as his arms wrap around you, pulling your back to his chest. “Is that right?” he hums, gently caressing your skin just under your breasts. 

     He runs the loofah over your nipples, and you bite your lip at the soft scratch. You watch as his thumb gently rubs the soap into your chest, squishing the flesh just barely, teasing both you and him as he watches every twitch of your body. He cleans your stomach, his fingers swiping lightly at the edge of the belt, and you whine. 

     “Does my princess need help here too?” he asks, and your heart flutters at the name. You nod, biting your lip hard as you watch his long fingers drape over your stomach. They cover you completely, and you practically whimper at the sight alone. “Hmm?” he hums, and you nod again. “Come on, Y/n,” he whispers, his fingers sliding between your breasts to your throat, just gently, just barely wrapping around you there. You tremble, not in fear, but in bliss. They’re hot and smooth against you, dangerous yet perfectly safe as he presses a soft kiss to your jaw. “What does my princess need?”

     “Here,” you gasp, grasping the belt. It doesn’t budge, the lock clattering against you as you hold it tightly. “Please, I need it off. I need you h-here, Yunho…”

     “Good girl,” he groans, his hand leaving your throat and grabbing the lock. With a single tug, it's gone, thrown onto the floor, and the belt follows. You feel something hot spill down your thighs, and you can’t tell if it’s the water or the desperate state he has you in, but it doesn’t matter as his fingers dip into your folds, and you melt into his chest, your body trembling as he runs his finger through your heat with a warm breath at your ear. “It’s messy down here,” he hums, his voice low, a soft growl against your skin. “Were you thinking naughty thoughts?” 

     You don’t even try to deny it, nodding as your hands travel up your body, grinding your heat against his hand. 

     “No,” he scolds, taking away all pressure against you as he places your hands at your sides. “We can’t make more of a mess, Y/n,” he warns quietly, caressing your inner thigh with his teasing fingers. You can’t handle all of his teasing, though. You’re biting your lip, your cheeks hot and heat clenching around nothing. 

     “Yunho,” you whimper, “sh-shouldn’t you also clean your body?” His hold slowly loosens on you, and you turn around, gazing at the small smear of blood on his cheek, the scratch on his neck, and the little scratches of red throughout his body. “I’ll help you.”

     You go to take the loofah, but he drops it to the floor, eyes locked on yours. “Use your hands.”

     His skin is already so soft, so perfect, as you rub the soap along his body, from his neck, behind his pink ears, to his shoulders, broad and higher than your eyes. He’s so big, even bigger now as you clean every inch of his skin. Your fingers pass over his chest, and he sighs. You feel his heartbeat, fast like yours, and… you swallow hard as your arm bumps against his hardness, moving quickly along, but he tilts his head, lifting a brow curiously.

     “That’s not very thorough,” he says, and you avoid his gaze as you finish scrubbing his arms, working hard with two hands.

     “Sh-should I help you?” you ask, finally bringing your eyes to meet his. His eyes are hooded, staring at your body as you work so close to him. “Yunho?” He hears you now, bringing his eyes to yours. Your hand slowly travels, soap bubbling along his skin as you gently wrap your fingers around him. He twitches in your hand, his eyes snapping to your touch. “Look how messy it is,” you breathe, your voice trembling as you watch precum bead at the tip. He’s so big, just like the rest of him, your fingers almost touching around its pretty base. You stroke it once, and he bites back a moan as he stops your hand quickly. 

     “Y-”

     “You’re right,” you sigh, removing your hand. The water washes away the soap, and it twitches without your touch, painfully hard now that he had a taste of your touch. “I should be more thorough.”

     You drop to your knees, and he lets out a low growl as he shakes his head. His hand grips your hair quickly, a light sensation as the stream runs down your back. 

     “Look at you,” he huffs, “so eager to please.”

     “I’m just returning the favor,” you mumble, tilting your head as you take his cock in your hand, “puppy.”

     The first fat lick from the base to the tip has him shivering. You think back on the things the guards would talk about in the hallway, learning as you go what feels good for him. You don’t tell him how you learned it all. He might get too jealous, but he seems to love the feeling of your tongue.

     His brows lift as he bites his lip in pleasure. He leans his head against the wall as you put the tip against your lips, offering a soft kiss, gazing up at him to watch each time he loses his control and grips your hair a little tighter, rolls his eyes back slightly, his hips twitching as you slowly take him in your mouth. He’s so heavy on your tongue, but the feeling is so nice. It’s comforting, watching him breathe heavily as your warmth surrounds him. 

     “Princess,” he groans, gently caressing your cheek as he holds you there, halfway on his cock. “This look suits you,” he breathes, “on your knees, stuffed with my cock. Does it taste good, baby?” You hum, and his head falls forward with a low groan. “Make sure i-it’s clean.” He bites his lip, hardly able to speak as he lets you move again, and the soft, warm velvet of your mouth runs along his length perfectly. It’s tight, so fucking tight. He can’t take his eyes off of you as your eyes unfocus, blissed out by the feeling of his cock stuffing your perfect mouth. Your lips are puffy, so cute around him. He can hardly contain his hips as he lets you go at your teasingly slow pace. He wants to fuck your mouth hard, but he absolutely won’t. Fuck, but he wants to. 

     “Can you go faster for me, Y/n?” he mumbles, slowly guiding you down his length. You gag as the tip hits your throat, your warmth constricting around him. It’s uncomfortable, but you want to please him, want to feel him twitching in you, moaning as you pleasure him. “That’s it,” he breathes. “Good job, baby, deeper. Fuck~” He lets out a long moan, blessing your ears as you relax your throat and force your nose to his stomach. “Baby, what a good girl. Fuck… ngh… so g-ood..mm... Keep going… shit..”   

     You go faster, but his grip tightens on your hair, controlling your movement as he starts to meet your mouth halfway. He’s slowly fucking your mouth, suppressing the need to thrust deeper and deeper, pushing you along his cock with each thrust. His voice is getting louder, his thrusts sloppier. He stops.

     “P-princess,” he breathes, slowly pulling you away by your hair. You suck lightly on his tip as he leaves your lips, and he curses softly, wanting nothing more than to keep you stuffed full. He stops moving as he sees his precum spread over your lips, reaching out and dragging his thumb across them to clean it up. “You keep making a mess,” he mumbles, bringing his thumb to his lips and licking it clean, gazing at you as you grow hotter at the sight. 

     “Why did you make me stop?” you whine, placing your hands on the ground to keep them from touching him again. “You feel so good in me,” you breathe, licking your lips as you stare eagerly at his dripping cock. “And taste s-”

     “Get up,” he growls, and you’re quick to scramble to your feet. “I just want to feel good together,” he admits, pushing you against the wall and stopping the water. The room goes silent, leaving only your heavy pants to be heard. “Once I saw you,” he mumbles, “walk by my cell, all I’ve wanted to do was see you like this. I know it’s so bad of me, but I want to make you feel good. I want to feel good with you.”

     “Me too,” you whimper. “I was so jealous when you felt good without me.” He smiles wide, looking away guiltily.

     His hands gently part your legs, lifting one and bringing his hips close to yours. You feel his cock rub lightly against your folds, and you let out a shaky breath.

     “I’ll make it up to you.”

     You haven’t felt such a raw sensation before, his hardness rubbing against you. The slide is so lewd, sticky and loud, echoing throughout the bathroom. His hand holds his cock against your folds as he thrusts against you. It rubs against your clit, back and forth, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You whimper, clutching his shoulders as he thrusts fast. His grunts are more like low growls with each thrust forward. It feels amazing, your voice hardly suppressed by the hard bite you have on your lip. 

     “You’re so wet,” he groans. “Making a mess when I just cleaned you up.” You whimper, rubbing your pussy against him hard as you feel the pleasure building. Your eyes are shaking, your lips leaving soft kisses against his shoulder, unsure of what else to do to distract yourself from losing your mind in pleasure. “Such a bad girl,” he growls, and you let out a soft sob as he pushes you hard against the wall, your head falling back. He kisses your chin as your head falls limp against the wall with a soft whimper leaving your lips. His teeth graze your skin, sinking down only lightly as his grunts grow to soft moans. He trails his kisses, sloppy and wet, to your neck. His hair tickles your skin, a soft contrast to the deep bite he marks into your neck.

     “Fu-uck~!” you choke, your orgasm approaching fast. This isn’t right. No, no, it’s not enough. “Yunho, please,” you whimper as he kisses away the pain in your skin. “Please, fuck, please put it in.. ngh~”

     He shakes his head. “Don’t say that,” he pants, biting his lip as he keeps his head buried in your neck. “Be good.”

     “Please,” you sob, feeling frustrated tears build quickly. “I need you inside, Yunnie, please, fuck me~ I need it so bad.” He kisses your neck with soft growls leaving his lips with each slide against your pussy. “Please, ngh, please, puppy!” 

     “I d-don’t want to hurt you, baby,” he says softly, biting his lip as he grips your body tight to gain some control over his thoughts. “I’ll m-make love to you nice, but not r-right now. I’ll hurt you.”

     Your mind flickers to the shots he talked about, how they make him feel. Tears fall from your eyes. They’re sad, frustrated, needy. You’re so overwhelmed. You need him to stuff you full. You need him to thrust hard and deep. Fuck, he’s so big. He’d rub so nicely against your walls. You want to feel him lose control. You know he won’t hurt you. Even if he does, you don’t care. 

     “Yunho, fuck me,” you pant, trying to steady your trembling voice. “I can take it. I just need it so bad. P-please, puppy, fuck me.”

     He pulls his head away quickly, dropping your leg as he glares at you, his pupils blown, his eyes heavy and hooded. As he tilts his head you see the veins bulging through his skin, his grip on you trembling as he grits his teeth. “You want me to fuck you?” he asks, voice strained. You nod eagerly. “And you think you can take it?”

     “Yes,” you whine, “I can take it. I promise, I’ll be good. Please~”

     He grabs your arm, pulling you roughly out of the shower. You’re both dripping as he rushes to his bedroom, pushing you onto the bed. He climbs over you, glaring down at you as he spreads your legs wide, sitting between them. His cock is so fucking hard, twitching against your stomach, but he forces your eyes back on his with a rough hand on your chin.

     “Every night I imagined what it would feel like deep inside you,” he growls, his hand pressing down on your stomach lightly. “What your face would look like, how your pussy would clench around me.” He scoffs. “You think that night was the only night?” Your eyes widen a little, a rush of slick wetting your folds as you listen to his every word. “Every. Fucking. Night.”

     Fuck… You whimper, biting your lip hard at the thought. 

     “All I had was your voice, but now…” He licks his lips, looking from your twitching pussy to your flushed cheeks. He gently runs his thumb along your cheek. “You think you can take it?”

     You nod quickly, but your mind is spinning so fucking fast. How dirty. Your puppy is so dirty… Making himself feel good, imagining you every night, while your hands were tied, and all you could do was imagine him, growing needy and desperate without any way to relieve yourself. 

     “Fuck me.”

     He doesn’t move his cock, his fingers plunging deep into your core. You’re wide open, your pussy drooling for him. He groans, his lips twitching into a satisfied smile as he finally lines his cock up to your folds. Without warning, his eyes, so dark, so daring, locked with yours, he thrusts in. It only goes about halfway, but your back arches with a long, pathetic moan. 

     “That’s right,” he pants, pushing further. His hair is wavy and damp in front of his eyes, but they don't look away for a second. They’re desperate to see every little twitch of your features as you take his cock like a good fucking girl. “Is this what you want, Y/n? Can you take it?”

     You nod, feeling hot tears stream down your face as he bottoms out.

     “Hmm?” he hums, rolling his lips just slightly against your quivering hole. You sob, overwhelmed with pleasure as his pelvis grinds against your clit. 

     “Yes, yes, fuuuck, yes, Yunnie, please keep going!” you finally choke out, reaching for his neck and pulling him into a searing kiss. His hips stutter as he carefully starts to move. You suck on his tongue, drinking him as you move desperately against his lips, grinding your hips along with each hesitant thrust. “Faster,” you pant. “More, baby, come one.”

     You pull hard on his hair as his hips slam against yours just once, forcing a moan from your lips. He groans into your mouth, loving your reaction. He moves faster, harder, thrusting into your heat until it's all he can feel. Your lips stop moving, just resting against each other as your eyes roll back, your vision blurry with how harshly your body is used by him. He grabs your hips and slams them against his thrusts, harder and faster, drowning in your moans and whines. He can’t get enough. 

     “Y/n,” he pants, kissing your cheek sloppily as he rolls his hips, rubbing hard against your clit with the new, slower angle. “Fuck, princess, bite me,” he whimpers. “Bite me.”

     He presents you his neck, his moans muffled by the pillow. You’re too far gone to register his words for a while, deep in the drug that he’s feeding you with each delicious thrust. But your kisses to his neck come naturally, and his words register when you hear a pathetic whine from his lips. You graze your teeth against his skin, and his hips stutter, slowing before getting harder and faster, rough but without much rhythm. 

     You bite him hard, and he sobs into the pillow, grabbing your hips and digging his nails into your flesh. You’re loving every fucking sensation, his moans, right beside your blessed ears, his cock pistoning into you, his body draped over you, and his hands gripping your body like there’s nothing else he could ever dream of holding.

     Your orgasm is approaching fast, and you can hardly grasp your mind, just drowning in Yunho. He lifts his head, his moans growing in pitch and volume.

     “I’m so close,” he sobs, and you focus your eyes just enough to see his trembling lips, his flushed cheeks, and his eyes, streaming tears as he thrusts desperately. 

     It makes you cum instantly, your back arching as your walls clench around him hard, creaming on his cock without warning. Your eyes roll back hard, your vision turning white as he whimpers and sobs, releasing thick ropes of his cum deep inside. He rides out both of your highs, your moans and gasps harmonizing in the silent room. You force your eyes to stay open to watch his features blank out in complete bliss, cumming long and hard surrounded by your perfect, soaked pussy. His head falls forward as soon as he stops cumming, his cock twitching sensitively, keeping you stuffed full with his cum. 

     You hold his head to your neck as satisfied tears drip onto the pillow beneath you. His hair is almost dry by now, fluffy against your trembling fingers. He stays there for a long time, sniffling into your neck as you gently stroke his hair, something you’d wanted to do since seeing how pretty and fluffy it was in that cell. 

     He’s holding you so tight, his arms wrapped around you completely, his member still buried inside. He’s sobbing, and you close your eyes tight, holding him just as close, not saying a word until he can cry properly, like he deserves. 

     “You’re so warm,” he cries, and you smile against his head, a tear slipping down your own cheek. “How could they torture you for so long, and you’re still so warm? How could they do that to you?” 

     “You kept me warm,” you whisper, afraid your voice would break if it’s any louder. “You saved me in more ways than you think.”

     He holds you closer, close enough to feel his heart beat, to have to affect your own, have them sink and calm and soothe together. He sighs against your neck, his breath shaky but tears slowing.

     “I’ll keep you warm forever.” 

       “Seonghwa-Hyung will bring us to the police in the morning,” Yunho says as he checks his phone. You’re wearing his clothes, big and comfy, as you lounge on his blue, squishy bed. It feels just like him, fluffy and perfect for the shape of you. You could melt into it and sleep forever. You’ve never felt something so soft. Except for him, of course. 

     You look over to make him come snuggle with you, but he isn’t where your eyes left him. You frown. “Yunho?” He doesn’t answer. Maybe he went to the bathroom? Or maybe he went to talk with someone? You pout, laying back in bed. But something feels wrong. You sit up. “Yunho?” you call out again. Still no answer. You get up quickly and go to the door. Peaking out into the hallway, it’s dark and silent. No one’s there. This is freaky. Where could he have gone? You turn around, closing your eyes for a long moment. It’s okay. Maybe he went to get some water. 

     “Yunho?” you gasp, your eyes shooting open as you lunge forward. Your legs are wrapped tightly in a thick blanket, the room around you dark, quiet, cold, without him. He’s gone. He’s… The scent here is familiar. Something distant which you haven’t smelled in a long, long time. 

     The door creaks open, and a slither of light shines against the walls. “Y/n, baby, are you alright?” Mom. Her face is masked with gentle concern, but you can’t answer, staring in confusion, in silence. “Did you have a bad dream?” she asks, and you tilt your head. A bad dream?

     “A dream…?” You gasp. What’s with your voice? You look around again. The walls are covered in posters, pink and purple and black and… colors surround you. The cell, so grey… the… what… the dream… What was it about? “I don’t remember,” you whisper. 

     “It’s okay, baby,” she coos, stepping into the room. Her dent on the bed makes you lean toward her, your head falling to her shoulder, that scent of her perfume, so familiar. “It was just a dream, whatever it was.” 

     You sigh, letting your body melt into her. Yeah, it was all just a dream. It just feels like you haven’t been in her arms forever. 

       For ten years, your life seems so… unfamiliar, as if every moment you spend growing… isn’t truly happening. Every spoken word echoes, every touch vibrates softly as if it isn’t supposed to happen, and you grow used to it, but you never shake that feeling that something is utterly wrong… something is missing. Or someone. 

     Because you dream almost every night the same dream, and you’ve never told anyone, but somehow, this dream feels more real than life ever does. It started that night when you were ten. And it never went away. You’re always brought back to the darkness. You don’t understand it. You can’t see, you can’t speak, but you’re anything but lonely. You have a friend. 

     He sings to you. Through this wall in the darkness. Who is he? Why is he here? Is he stuck in this dream, just like you? But you can never ask him. 

       “I’m telling you, it’s all real,” you whine, tugging on your friend’s sleeve as she types away at her computer. 

     “You’re crazy, Y/n,” she giggles. “Even if you’ve had the same dream for fifteen years, there’s no way it’s real. You're crazy.”

     You roll your eyes. “I’m crazy? You’re fighting teenagers for a ticket, thinking an idol is gonna fall in love with you,” you laugh, but she eyes you with puckered lips, clearly offended. 

     “I could pull them,” she huffs. 

     “Uh huh.”

     “Anyway, you’re coming with me,” she says, zoning back in on the computer.

     You quirk a brow. “I don’t have that kind of money.”

     “Please,” she scoffs. “I’m paying for your ticket. In return, you have to drive me there.”

     “Whaaaat?” you groan, letting your head fall dramatically to her bed, melting into it with a deep frown. “How far away is it? Can’t you just drive yourself?”

     “It’s, like, two hours away.”

     “Whaaaat…”

     “Stop complaining,” she grumbles. “You’ll get a free- fuck, shhhh, it’s starting. Be silent.”

     You furrow your brows, burying your head into her pillow with a long, deep sigh. Whatever. It’s not like you have anything better to do. 

         You’ve heard of ATEEZ, but you’ve never actually ventured into their music. Standing outside the venue with a squirming, dolled-up bestie, you’re not really looking forward to it. She scored barricade seats, right up on these idols. It's going to be so embarrassing. You should have just agreed to drive her without getting a ticket. But… you’ll make the most of it and have fun with her.

     To say you get a weird feeling when you walk inside, though, is an understatement. You get immediate chills, pausing in your tracks as you look around. Something isn’t right. Or it is. Whatever it is, it’s weird, and you want to get out of there. The show hasn’t even started. 

     Your seats truly are right up at the stage. You’d be able to see every detail of the performance from here… every drop of sweat, every twitch of a lip, every step in the dance. 

     “I’ll be back. Bathroom,” you whisper, getting up from your seat. 

     “Hurry…” she whines. “Soundcheck starts soon. I have to introduce you to my man.” You roll your eyes before walking slowly toward the ladies room. You’ll be back in time. 

     But the uneasy feeling from earlier is growing stronger, and it’s making you nauseous. You thought it would be a quick trip to the ladies’ room, but you’re bent in two, sitting on the toilet seat, fully clothed, sweating and panting as you try to catch your breath. What the fuck is going on? Your mind is spinning around and around, only stopping when it gives you a moment’s witness of that familiar darkness. You hear the crowd erupt. The group must be on stage. They must be singing, greeting the crowd. You hear them, but you can’t hear anything as your ears tune in on his voice in that darkness, his hums which were your only company as you dreamed each night. Why are you suddenly hearing him? He’s just from your fucking dream. You grab your ears, groaning as you try to focus on the crowd, on the singing. 

     There’s a knock on your stall door, and you open it hesitantly. Knowing by the little black Mary Janes that it’s your girl.

     “Y/n,” she gasps, “Are you okay?” She kneels in front of you, gently stroking your cheek, and you can finally calm down, taking slow breaths. You realize the crowd is quiet, and the singing is over. 

     “Sorry,” you sigh, “I missed soundcheck. Had a huge-”

     She playfully slaps your cheek, standing up with a groan. “Gross,” she giggles.

     The uneasy feeling is gone for the next few hours as you relax and eat with her until the show starts. All is well, all is good. And you have a lot of fun in the end. 

     The lights dim, and the music starts, and you quickly regain that weird feeling. The members are wearing cloaks. You can’t see their faces, only watch as the cloth flows with their movement. It’s freaky. It’s cool. Even as they perform a few songs, you don’t see their features clearly until they begin their little solo dances. That’s when you really feel weird. Your heart is racing in anticipation. For what? Maybe you’re so invested into the show, but when three members dance around, collapsing at different sides of the stage, you’re met with big, wide, horrified eyes, and you realize exactly why.

     Your knees grow weak, your pupils trembling. He’s staring right at you; he knows too. Everything returns to you. Every moment, every word, every touch. 

     You’re both frozen there, just a few feet away. His hand trembles as he reaches out… for you. He reaches out, maybe he can grasp you. Maybe he can touch you. Maybe he can hold you close because why were you suddenly taken from him? Why were you suddenly sent back, separated? 

     His arms are grabbed, and he’s pulled away, aggressively taken away from you. You shout his name, but it’s drowned by the crowd, by the music. 

     A tear slips down your cheek. How could you forget everything? How could you… You think back on the last fifteen years, how you awoke that morning, just a child again, oblivious, memory wiped, living knowing something wasn’t right, something was missing. And there it is. Yunho.

     You sit down, bringing your head to your lap as tears fall from your eyes. Never have you betrayed yourself so horribly, betrayed him so unfairly. How could you leave him like that when you had promised him you would always return, that you would never leave him?

     You don’t watch the rest of the show. You can’t lift your eyes from your lap. You can’t. 

     You remember everything.  

           “Y/n, it’s really okay if you’re not up to it,” she insists, rubbing your arms gently as you eye the crowd moving toward the last event. “You’re not feeling well.”

     “No,” you mumble. “I need to go.”

    She huffs a laugh. “Were you so entranced by their performance? Did they woo you?” She snickers as if she told a joke, but you don’t get it. Rolling her eyes, she urges you forward. “Let’s go get a good spot then.”

     You’ve calmed down by now. You realize it wasn’t a dream at all. It was all real, and, by the look on his face, without a doubt, he remembers too. You need to see him again. Even if… now he wants nothing to do with you, you need to see him again. 

     You’re close to the front but hidden by other fans for the most part. They don’t come out for a while, and you’re a little nervous. You’re a lot nervous, playing with the fabric on your girl’s top. She doesn’t mind, too deep in her thoughts, probably delusional, romantic. 

     And then they come out. And your eyes search frantically for them, but there’s a lot of people blocking your view. It’s frustrating, but you have to be patient. The members go around and stop by your section, smiling, taking pictures, signing, talking. It’s cute, how they interact with their fans.

     You recognize two of them. Seonghwa looks just like he did back then, or, maybe this is around the same time as back then. Wooyoung is snappy and loud, like each person he talks to is another close friend. You recognize them, know them. It’s weird… to see more of that dream appear in front of you. 

     And him. Yunho appears, looking anxiously around as he signs and talks and smiles. He’s not paying attention to any of it, but you can tell he is. You smile, finally able to see him through the small crowd. He’s just like you remember. As his eyes find yours again, they give you that look, like you’re the only thing they’ve ever been looking for, just like in his cell, in the auditorium, and on the stage. 

     He nearly stumbles as he comes closer, eyes never leaving yours. He doesn’t look scared like he did on the stage, and neither do you. There’s a deep understanding in your gazes now. 

     Your friend’s squealing beside you, shaking your arm as he stops just a few feet away. He looks around, head low. He knows there are cameras lining the crowd. All eyes are on him. He can’t say anything, and neither can you. You want to reach out, want to touch him, see if he’s real.

     “Tiny~” He smiles wide, eyes squinting cutely, but you can see a soft layer of tears hiding there. “Do you want a selfie?” He points to your phone, held tightly in your hand. You hesitantly nod, and he motions you closer. The crowd parts a bit, and you can walk forward. He takes your phone, his fingers grazing yours, and you could melt at how warm he is, how soft he is. You can smell him as he motions you closer and closer. His cheek bumps gently against yours as he holds the camera up. “Smile, Y/n,” he whispers, and your cheeks tint a deep pink as you see yourself in the camera, listen to his words, hear your name, and feel him around you. His hand curls at your opposite cheek, like a heart, and your face completes it. 

     He takes at least four pictures, all the same, but he stays there for so long, he doesn’t want to leave. As he pulls away, so slowly, and he hands you your phone, you feel a piece of paper slip into your palm. His eyes stay gazing into yours for only a moment longer before the manager beside him urges him to move on, and he’s pulled away.

     You don’t look down at the paper. You don’t make it known. Not even to your friend, who’s tugging on your sleeve and fangirling over the whole thing, practically begging to see the photos. You carefully put the paper in your pocket with a hidden, shy smile.

       “Stay. I arranged a driver for your friend.” How do you explain something like that to her? 

     But before you can even go to tell her, she’s nowhere to be seen. Your phone vibrates and lights up with a message from her. 

     “I’m gonna stay in town for the night. I want to try out the cat cafe!!! You can head back alone.”

     You stare at the message for a long moment. How convenient. 

     You’re interrupted by a clearing of someone’s throat. Startled, you lock eyes with one of the managers and nearly squeak an apology. This is so embarrassing. How do you explain that Yunho is…

     “Come with me,” he says quietly, and you eye him skeptically. “Yunho is backstage.”

     He starts to walk, and your shoulders lose some tension without his glare. It’s replaced with a growing excitement. You bite your lip as you’re guided to the back. It’s busy, and you feel so strange, like you’re not supposed to be here, but you know soon, you can finally see him again. For real, alone, where you can finally talk, and touch, and see, and everything constantly stripped from you. 

     You sigh as he comes into your sight. The door closes behind you, the room silent except for his quick footsteps. Your back hits the door as he pushes his body against you, his lips on yours instantly. You whimper, feeling his fingers run through your hair, stroking you with pure love and relief. His lips are soft but urgent as they move against yours, he breathes your name between fast kisses, and your eyes roll shut, falling deep into the feeling of him. 

     “What happened?” he pants against your lips, gazing into your eyes, forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath. “Where did you go?” His voice breaks, and it squeezes at your heart as your lips tremble into a frown. “Why does no one remember?” he asks, gently caressing your cheek as he holds you just a little closer. “Why were you gone?”

     But he kisses you again, lifting your chin to keep your lips on his. He’s panting against you, his hands sliding down your neck as he feels your delicate body, your soft skin, your light shivers. They rest on your waist, gentle yet big against you, his fingers sliding just slightly under your top. 

     “Please,” he mumbles. “Don’t leave me again.” His jaw clenches as he stares into your eyes, his words growing darker as he becomes used to you back in his arms. “Come home with me.” 

       Yunho’s room is warmer than you remember. Or maybe your desperate breaths as he pins you against the wall are filling the room with a desperate heat quickly. You can tell he’s exhausted from the concert mentally and physically, but he needs to be close to you right now. 

     You walk him to the bed and lay him down. He doesn’t object much, trusting you with himself completely. You climb onto his lap and lean against his chest. He sighs with the warm weight of you, letting you stay there for a long moment. 

     “I dreamed about you,” you whisper, working on the strings of his pants lazily. “Every night.”

     “Me too,” he sighs. “I dreamed about the cell, but I thought I was going crazy.” 

     You giggle. “Me too.” 

     You pull down his sweatpants, leaving him in his briefs. Then, you strip off your own pants. You work on his shirt next. He lets you do as you please, nodding off but keeping his eyes wide just to keep you in his sight.

     “Do you remember everything?” you ask, glancing away as you’re met with his bare chest. You slip off your own shirt, and he looks away too, his ears growing red, just like you remember.

     “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Except… I don’t remember what happened after I found you in the tank… until we were outside and safe,” he says. 

     Your eyes grow wide a little. “Really?” you mumble, and he nods. 

     “How did we get out?” he asks, and you avoid his curious gaze.

     “You broke me out… and we ran away,” you say, which is mostly the truth. He accepts it, smiling as he thinks back at the look on your face as you finally saw the sky for the first time in years.

     You plop down beside him, and he curls into you as you pull the covers over you both. 

     “How do we know something like that won’t happen again?” he asks, bringing you close to his chest.

     You’re silent for a moment. “Even if it does, we’ll find each other no matter what. Even when I couldn’t remember… I knew you were missing. I can’t live without you,” you say, gazing at him as he smiles. 

     “Even so, let’s promise,” he whispers, digging out his hand from the covers to hold out his pinky. “Promise that we’ll never disappear again.”

     You grin, latching your pinky with his, giggling together as you snuggle close and fall asleep.

       For years, you stay by each other’s side. You move into an apartment and change jobs to live in Seoul. You never speak to your mother again. You love your life by his side, perfect and sweet, even if his fans are a bit crazy about your relationship. You don’t mind. Everything is perfect.

     Best of all, you keep your promise to each other… for six years. 

     You don’t feel uneasy… nor warned… nor any different that night as you go to sleep in his arms. 

     And suddenly you can’t move. You can’t speak. You can’t hear.

     Your vision is foggy, your limbs bound in place, floating in a thick fluid. The tank. 

     Oh, fuck, the tank.

     The glass is clear, built around you. It was never shattered. You were never saved. 

     The room is silent. The audience… they’re bones. Bones, melting into the seats. They’re gone, dead. For years, they've been dead. For decades, maybe, and you’ve been here. It was all a lie. You’ve been here. You…

     You hear a faint cry. It’s distant, a truly saddening cry… of a child. 

     Your heart sinks. It slows amidst the sudden chaos of your mind. How long have you been here in this tank? How many… children… have you had? That is… the true use of the tank. 

     Your eyes can hardly move, and it hurts so bad, but you need to look toward the sobs. There’s more. More cries, more children. 

     But you don’t see them when your eyes finally move to your left. Instead you see another tank. Floating, much like you, is Yunho. Your eyes meet, and your heart stops. 

     You were never free. You were never free. You were never free. 

     You were here the whole time, with him, locked in this tank, forced to reproduce. You were never free. And now even your dreams are gone. You have to stay and watch as you live… like this… for how long? How long will it be until you die? Because you just want to die right now. Before you forget everything… You want to die when you can see his eyes and remember it all. 

     You want to die. You want to fucking die. 

     What’s the point? You can’t even kill yourself. You want to die. What’s the fucking point?! What’s the point?! What’s the point?! Die! Why can’t you just die! They can’t give you something and take it away again! And again! They’re fucking with you! They can’t take him away from you again! You'd rather just die! Die! Qhy can’t you just kill yourself?! No fucking way you’re going to live if you can’t have him! You’ll just fucking die!

     Tears are streaming from your eyes… Warm arms are wrapped around you as you sob. Your fists clench his shirt, nails digging into his skin. You feel his hitching breath against your nose, his tears wetting your lashes and mixing with your own. 

     “No,” he sobs, curling into you as he opens his eyes. “No, it’s okay.” His breath is trembling, unsure, but you nod anyway. Fuck, you were so scared. You were so scared. “It’s not real,” he whispers, his lips quivering as his hands grip your body so tight.

     “It’s not real,” you repeat, and he nods quickly. “W-we promised we wouldn’t disappear again,” you whisper, and he nods again. “S-so it can’t be real. It’s okay.”

     Your ears are ringing, heart pounding, but it’s all soothing as you hold him close. If you hold him close enough this time, maybe he won’t disappear. You whisper again and again to each other nonsense, comforting nonsense, just to stay awake as tears softly dampen the pillow beneath your heads. Just to survive the night, you won’t fall asleep, won’t let his eyes leave yours. 

     This is real. 

     You won’t disappear because this is real.

     It’s real.

a/n ~ thank you so much for reading ♡

mwaᯓᡣ𐭩

    taglist ~ @wisejudgedragonhairdo @prettiestttprincess @tomarisela @hypnocomedyfunnyhero @laudyadee @ari33y @sweetnsua @forestroute @sleepyheadyunho @hyukalvrr @acetyu @idktrix @alienfromneptune @cyberteez @hannahdiazsblog @aftertherain-atr @civeua @kcf4e @clut0 @mscumberbatchedhiddlestoned @tiny2018 @yoonshiiu @suki-lele @shikigamihwa @dearkys @catarinastar1 @sanniebabes @thechaotictheoryy @mulloey @cryingstudent @atinyprincesss @boo4youss @babuis @niall-itsharrysfault @everyonewooeverywhere @neptunesutopia @wooyoungiesworld @jiamoon3525 @miniaturegardenwitch @jaesmthg @midnightrebel1028 @freezedsoul @certifiedmoa @miyaluvvsyou @clxudss @zaynsfl4m3s @mariana-mmtz @mingismangi @jinxtheta @smally97 @haerinimiku @pixheu @yunshakes @yun-fangz @midnightreader-06 @uhhheather @teeztopia @dubuyunho

[yoiisa]

Hello XD

I HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL :>>

1st time requesting (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) hehe and I really enjoy Ur writing btw!! it's amazing :3

Would it be possible to ask for shidou with a really soft-hearted reader who's kinda his opposite all calm and rational but can be too sensitive sometimes

U can go as far as you'd like wink wink ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄

NO PRESSURE if U don't wanna!

Ty<33

-🐞

why yes!!

➜ people are genuinely so shocked whenever the see you and the fucking loose canon shidou ryusei together ➜ like, they'll see you in public with a gentle smile on your face, smelling like fresh daisies and vanilla, and decked out in pastel colors and then suddenly this neon gyaru fucking explosion just appears next to you

"Hey, hey, look over there," a boy mutters to his other friend while elbowing him. "Wha- oh shit!" the second boy's face instantly reddens as he sees you staring at a dressed up mannequin in the windows of a department store. You're so wonderstruck and excited by the cute outfit, you don't even notice the pair of boys staring at you from a few feet away. "Should we ask for her number?" the first one asks, already ready to pounce. "Y-yeah, lemme just get my phone out- wait, who's that-" "BABE-UH!!" You turn around and see Shidou just in time for him to practically jump on top of you. His arms wrap tight around your shoulders and he yanks you into his side, grinning. He smothers the side of your head in kisses and then looks up at the mannequin. "Ooooh, you'd look perfect in that~" he teases, before guiding you into the store. "C'mon, let's get it."

➜ when the u20s meet you, sendou shuts down completely. there is absolutely no universe in which someone as adorable as you should be dating shidou ➜ even oliver is like what the hell ➜ the two of them will pull you aside and ask questions about your life. not your love life, but just your regular life, trying to find out if shidou's blackmailing you or you're in any danger

"You know, there are other boys out there who like pink," Oliver says sheepishly, his hands on your shoulders. You know from Shidou that Oliver has a reputation with the ladies, but from the way he's interacting with you right now, he seems more concerned than flirtatious. "I know," you say, your voice sweet and even-toned. "But Ryusei-" "Be honest, like, just level with me for a second [name]," Sendou interrupts, diverting your attention to him. He gently pushes Oliver aside and stares deep into your eyes. "Are you in any-" "Whatcha guys talking about over here?" Shidou calls out, coming up behind the two of you. Sendou jumps back at least three feet and Oliver completely straightens up like he's an army man that's been called to attention. Shidou gently pulls you back and away from the two older boys. His voice is still playful, but you know he's a bit jealous. His smirk is a little too wolfish. "Oh, nothing," Oliver replies, waving Shidou off. Off to the side, you see Sendou wrap his thumb in his palm with his fingers, and his eyes practically beg you to return the gesture. You sigh and shake your head.

➜ all this being said though, shidou is genuinely such a fun boyfriend ➜ despite his loud behavior, he's so attentive and caring ➜ if you're upset, he will drop everything to make sure you feel better ➜ he's constantly sending you flowers, especially if he's overseas. while he's in france you have at least three vases at all times filled with different bouquets of sunflowers, tulips, roses, daises, baby's breath, and anything else you can possibly imagine ➜ he has a particular love for the really weird flowers too

It's Sunday, which means you haven't moved from the couch in the past two hours. The bowl from which you ate your ramen is crusting and you've made considerable progress on the book your reading. Your bangs are in rollers and you're fresh from an everything-shower. But what's really tying this all together is the soft smell of the flowers Shidou sent you. They sit on the window sill, baking in the sunlight. They're just so beautiful. After you finish the last page of the book, you shut it and stretch like a cat, arching your back as you raise your arms above your head. You flip onto your stomach, the blanket you were under slipping off of you and onto the floor. You reach a hand out and gently stroke the petals of a sunflower with your finger, marveling at how soft they are. You take a photo of the flowers, the petals and even more vibrant color thanks to the sun and send it to Shidou. you: they miss u not more than me tho ٩(๑`^´๑)۶ You end up falling asleep right there on the couch, and when you wake up, the sun's already gone down. It must've been a few hours. You check your phone and see that Shidou responded to you. ryuuuuuu: AHHHH IM COMING BACK RN WAIT FOR ME MY BABIES Yeah, he's perfect.

a/n: honestly, im not the biggest shidou fan in the world, but writing this oddly made me grow a very strong soft spot for him lol

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗕𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 || 𝗜𝗮𝗻 𝗠𝗰𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗹𝗲𝘆 ||

A/n: Au where Ian never road the coster because his preppy girlfriend fucks him. Also I could have sworn he had tattoos , i haven't seen this movie in a while

For my dear friend @sacredwarrior88 , ily and hope you like it

The hallway echoed with distant laughter and excited footsteps. The group was off to ride the park’s infamous coaster Devil's Flight— a monstrous thing twisting above the lights like a steel skeleton. But you didn’t care.

No.

You only cared about the boy behind you, his dark hoodie half-zipped, combat boots scuffing the carpet as he shut the hotel room door with a dull thunk.

“I still don’t get it,” Ian muttered, voice low, gravelly. “You seriously dragged me back here just to not ride the coaster?” A bored tone to his voice as he shoved his hands into his pocket.

You turned slowly, your pale pink sundress slipping off your shoulder, lip gloss shining in the dim hotel light. You smiled.

A slow a dangerous smile.

“I dragged you back here because I didn’t want to scream on a roller coaster tonight,” you said sweetly, backing toward the bed. “I wanted to scream under you.”

His eyes darkened instantly.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he rasped, striding toward you like a storm. “You know what that dress does to me.”

"It's why I wore it." A little giggle escaped your lips as you tilted your head to the side as you dropped onto the mattress, legs spread just enough to make his breath hitch. You weren’t wearing panties. He noticed.

“Oh, fuck me,” Ian muttered, kneeling on the bed as his hands slid up your thighs, rings cold against your skin.

“That’s the plan,” you whispered, curling your fingers in his shirt and yanking him down into a kiss.

It was messy — all tongue, teeth, and heat, your gloss smearing between you. He groaned as you tugged at his hoodie, pulling it off to reveal inked skin and muscle beneath. You kissed your way down his neck, licking the pulse just to feel it quicken.

He shoved your dress up over your hips, eyes fixed on your soaked cunt.

“Already dripping?” he growled, dragging two ringed fingers through your folds. “Damn, baby…”

You whimpered as he pressed his fingers inside you, curling them perfectly — the heel of his palm rubbing your clit while you bucked against him. But it wasn’t enough. Not tonight.

“Need your cock,” you gasped, grinding into his hand. “Please, Ian…”

"You're so fucking needy."He was already unzipping his jeans, pulling his cock free — thick, hard, and leaking at the tip. You reached down to stroke him, loving the way his breath caught in his throat when you teased your thumb over the head.

“You sure you don’t want to ride a coaster?” he teased, smirking.

“I am riding something,” you whispered, guiding him to your entrance and rolling your hips forward.

The moan that tore from his throat as he sank inside you was filthy. You were tight, wet, clenching around him so perfectly that he had to pause, arms shaking with restraint.

“Fuck,” he muttered, forehead resting against yours. “You feel like heaven…”

He started to move — slow at first, dragging his cock almost all the way out before slamming back in. You gasped, nails raking down his back.

“Harder,” you begged. “Please—fuck me like you mean it.”

He obliged. Ian grabbed your hips and began pounding into you, every stroke making your breasts bounce, your cries growing louder as the headboard tapped rhythmically against the wall. His name spilled from your lips like a prayer.

“God, you take me so good,” he growled. “My perfect, filthy little prep…”

Your orgasm built fast — that sweet, tightening spiral in your belly until you were clenching around him, legs trembling, voice cracking.

“Ian—I’m gonna—fuck—Ian!”

You came with a cry, arching under him, pulsing around his cock. He barely lasted a moment longer, groaning deep as he buried himself to the hilt and filled you with thick, hot cum.

The room went quiet, save for your breathing and the far-off sound of park fireworks.

You stroked his hair gently as he collapsed beside you, still inside, his hand resting over your belly like he never wanted to leave.

He chuckled softly, breathless. “Best decision you ever made was skipping that coaster.”

"Hmm...I love my cute little goth boyfriend." You muttered ranking your fingers through his dark hair as Ian let out a snort.

"And I love you, my preppy, pain in the ass girlfriend.."Ian's voice softened for a moment as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "That somehow managed to choose me between anyone else."

[gatitties]

Hey hope you having a good day, I was requesting for one piece one shot. So can we do that child reader doesn't act like their age instead they act like a grownup and are VERY mature. Causing them to be like an entire grownup and having worries and feels the need to fix a promblems on their own like a groen up. If its alright can we do the (SH) , (WP), (HP) that try to help child reader feel more like a chuld so reader dosent overthink over things that are not for their age. Thank you. Love your books ♡

─Strawhats, Whitebeard Pirates & Heart Pirates x child!reader (Platonic)

─Summary: The crew takes you on a surprise trip with the intention that you enjoy and behave like someone appropriate to your age.

─Warnings: none

Everyone noticed your strange behavior from the beginning, at least, strange for a child of your age, when normally children were carefree, naive or whiny, you never stopped worrying about things that you definitely shouldn't worry about.

Expenses, proper nutrition, daily exercise to keep fit, you had a notebook where you had a rigorous table for each month, an organization that prevented the anxiety of not knowing what to do or how to act from bothering you, you didn't need 'unnecessary' or 'wasted' time in your life.

What completely confused Luffy was why didn't you want to play with him and Ussop? Normally children are a bunch of inexhaustible and elastic energy, but you prefer to do some problems to train your mind, which is fine in a way, but you didn't even like stuffing yourself with candy with Chopper, you were a child for god's sake! Your arms and legs were small, you still struggled with psychomotor and coordination problems in some situations, but you behaved like someone divorced and with debts piling up non-stop.

Of course, Robin and Sanji noticed that all that maturity disappeared from time to time, in your most vulnerable moments, when mental fatigue takes its toll on the deepest part of you, that's when you let out your true behavior, the one you should have at such a young age.

"Aren't we deviating from the established route?"

"Don't worry about it, we just took a detour, we need to buy somethings before the island we were originally going to."

Nami frowned at the exaggeration in your voice, always so exasperated at the slightest change, thinking it would cause some trouble, of course you were worried because you hadn't noticed that the supplies were running out, but luckily Zoro was able to keep you distracted enough for you to notice that they didn't really need to go shopping.

Your expression was completely indecipherable when Franky put you on his shoulder, pointing at the strange city that was on that island, something similar to the roller coasters and attractions of Sabaody, but on a smaller scale, that they came across this island was luck, Brook read about it in the newspaper and they all agreed that a break wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Are you sure we can take a break? The log pose will get deconfigured if we take too long."

Jinbe patted your head, pointing at one of the milder attractions, silently asking if they should go there or to other intensities.

"We have everything under control, where do you want to ride first?"

"I don't know, I've never been in an amusement park"

You rested your chin against Franky's head, a little embarrassed at not knowing what to do, the fish man smiled softly at you and decided to guide you all to the more childish area, everyone divided and joined together depending on each one's tastes, although at first you felt insecure, you began to enjoy and appreciate the time off, letting your mind go unconcerned about things that were beyond your reach, bringing out your most capricious and childish side, you allowed yourself to be a child during the day. The crew still had to fight your worries, but they were relieved to see that your childish mind was still there.

They're worried, very worried, Marco was the first to notice how you seemed to lose hair for every little problem that happened on the Moby Dick, was there a shortage of food? You were making a shopping list, did the cannons have a malfunction? You'll read books about them so that the defenses don't go down, was there a mess after a party? You got up early to leave everything spotless.

You didn't even bother to run around the deck with Ace, he adored you and used to drag you around to play little pranks on the crew, but you always left him hanging, excusing yourself by saying that they were absurd things and that there were problems to deal with. So everyone has a meeting to talk about why you act like a grumpy old person and not a carefree child, Izo really thinks he'll see wrinkles on your face when you reach adolescence.

"We have to keep the child from thinking about that kind of thing, the other day asked me if I had done the inventory of the medicines."

"My god… the other day the kiddo asked me if could start shooting."

"Mmmh, the child asked me if could start hand-to-hand defense training too."

"Kiddo was worried because the portions didn't have enough vitamins that an adult needs to ingest."

Whitebeard listened in silence, his face darkened as he continued to listen to the others' conversation, he needed to end this, you're not at the age to occupy your mind with that kind of worries, you should worry about getting enough sleep, having fun, getting into mischief, being a little fussy or whiny… it caused him deep pain to see you like that.

"The discussion is over, let's make the child behave like a child."

Everyone listened to their captain's strict orders, his absolute word spreading throughout all of his subordinates immediately, leaving you confused when you were prevented from doing anything the next day, unable to enter the kitchen, Marco's office, or the small armory, you had no time to get angry at the fact that they were delaying your work because Ace dragged you into mischief. It wasn't what you had planned to do today, but since you had no other options, you preferred to keep your mind occupied than to think about why your captain wouldn't let you do what you usually did.

With your thoughts much less occupied, the simplicity of spending a good time with the people who love you made you show a facet much more in line with your age, you laughed carefree at how Marco tripped over a bucket that Ace left lying around, you escaped from Thatch after throwing flour on his face, Izou caught you trying to steal his makeup… your mischievous attitude gave years of joy to the crew, your laughter sounded throughout the ship like a melody, something you usually didn't do.

"This is much better, I hope you can take things more calmly, you will have time to grow up."

Whitebeard directed his words towards you, although you were completely asleep on his lap, he smiled tenderly, caressing your head, he didn't want you to worry about adult things again, you don't need to grow up so fast, you have to give him time to cry when you are a full-grown adult, but you need to enjoy your childhood first.

Law appreciates you, he really does, he loves that you understand that everything has to be clean, disinfected, organized... it's okay that you want to have a healthy routine and he doesn't prohibit you from taking care of yourself, but my god, you have the behavior of an impulsive parent who has twenty children and doesn't have time to take care of them all.

Ikkaku takes care of the food, Bepo takes care of the navigation, Law is a doctor, Shachi and Penguin… well, they are there, but you don't need to occupy all those positions when you think something is going to cause problems. Law understands that you may be a little ─too much sometimes─ more mature than most children your age, he himself had to face childhood in a hard way, but you didn't have to go through that, everyone was there to take care of you, pamper you, you can have a totally normal childhood without worries, however you decide to make all the problems yours.

"You have to stop, I've already told you that you don't need to worry about those things, I'm the captain."

"But-"

It only took one look from your captain to stop you from ranting, he confronted you directly because he knew you would understand what he meant, but you got to the point of worrying about things that he didn't even care about, you need to relax or your heart would stop. No one has died from a little disorganization, some junk food or not washing their hands after eating with nothing but a napkin. But it was too hard to put all those thoughts aside, the crew made sure not to let you think about it too much, but with each passing day it seemed like you were blowing more and more smoke out of your ears like a locomotive at full speed, you could stop doing things but not overthinking them.

He had to pull you out of the Polar Tang, the idea was from the idiot duo, but it was what he needed right now, a stupid and fun idea, ─although Law didn't find it too funny─ he stopped at the first snowy island he found and let the chaos begin on its own.

"This is war, eat snow!"

It only took one of Penguin's snowballs to hit you to activate a switch in you, you don't know if it was out of frustration or because you were having a good time, but you started throwing snow left and right, Ikkaku, Bepo, Law, Jean Bart… they were all fired without discrimination, you didn't stop to think about how the snow got under your clothes or that you'll catch a cold after this, you enjoyed the moment without your mind plagued by unnecessary problems.

"That's our child! ack-"

The crew smiled upon hearing your malicious grin at having hit Shachi, who was celebrating that you had hit his friend, unleashing your most childish and hyperactive side, however he also suffered the consequences of your change of mentality, they still had a long way to go before you stopped behaving like a complete adult, but you let those more childish hues that you hid from yourself show.

[voitier]

Blame Morpheus for your sins - 04

𝒾𝓃 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽... you and jungkook had been attached by the hip since you were little toddlers learning how to live in your own bodies, which led you two to spend most (if not all) of your life together. one weird dream makes your whole view about your best friend change. how will you live with that?

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝓈... [mini-series!] friends to lovers, college au, jungkook is whipped for reader but she's oblivious to it all, descriptions of wet dreams, second-hand embarrassment, learning how to deal with new found feelings, sex and all the good stuff, HEA.

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔... angst, mentions of sex, mentions of cheating, a whole lot of crying, JK and reader will definitely piss you off (they're both dense), Jimin is moments away to a mid-life crisis

▸ 𝓔𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓲𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮

▸ 𝔀.𝓬. : 2.9𝓴

< previous ● next > series masterlist

Some time ago your bad habit of doomscrolling through your social media brought to your attention a post. It was a citation of who knows who, and it stated that life is like a roller coaster: once you reach the peak you’re doomed to fall back down at full speed, but no matter what, the train will always bring you back on top, and then the cycle would repeat until the ride stops completely. 

You didn’t think much of it at that time, agreeing that the author was right yet without really stopping to feel, to understand what message they were trying to convey.

But now? Oh, now life pushed you inside the train with no warnings at all, no sweet talk, no coaxing. Just deemed correct that you tasted the taste of failure. Of disappointment. Of empty nights and empty days, of a closed stomach and constricted throat. Of days slipping from your fingers with no intent of being meaningful, or sticking by your side. Each hour, minute, each second dripping like the clocks from Dalí’s Persistence of Memory and pooling at your feet, mocking you for wasting them, for letting them dissolve into thin air instead of doing something. 

Doing anything, really.

But the more you tried to act, the more life pushed you down. Eventually, even getting up from your bed became an exhausting chore. If you managed to do it most morning, it’s only thanks to Jimin. The poor boy took it upon himself to throw you off your bed each morning, push you in the shower, throw you an apple then drag you to class every single time. More than a friend, he was a saviour for both your mental health and your grades.

One week.

That’s when you last spoke to Jungkook before he had hung up. One whole week ago.

And oh, it was eating you from the inside, clawing at your stomach, your throat, bruising and burning until you were left sobbing. No breakup you had gone through prior had hurt as much as Jungkook’s radio silence was hurting you now. 

“I don’t get why he has gone fucking MIA. And I asked some of my friends that go to class with him, Taehyung and Yoongi. Do you remember them? Anyway, apparently he hasn’t been showing up to class either.” 

You sniffed lightly, wiping the tears streaking your cheeks with your sleeve. Jimin sighed, sitting down in front of you. With gentle hands he cupped your jaw, bringing your eyes high. “Hey,” he whispered softly, carefully fixing stray wet hairs that stuck to your face. “It’s alright. Things will be fixed soon, I’m sure of it. Just hold tight a little longer, okay? You can do it, I know you do.”

A choked sob escaped your lips, a new fit of tears coming up and out of you. Jimin’s hand traveled to the back of your head, guiding you to his shoulder, holding you lovingly. You clung to his shirt, desperate to anchor yourself to something before you spiraled into complete madness, drowning in destructive thoughts that had a name and surname: Jeon Jungkook.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Jimin was right when he said that Jungkook had gone MIA.

No amount of calls, texts, emails or missed classes could bring him outside of his dorm. Heck, his neighbors weren’t even sure anymore if he was still there.

Except, he was still inside. 

He stood in front of his desk, watching his phone ringing nonstop from your desperate calls, each one being sent to voicemail.

“Kook–” a broken sob echoed in the small dorm room, and the boy sat back down on his bed as the rest of the registered voicemail played. “Please pick up, I’m so– I’m sorry, please.”

His heart tugged a little in his chest at your voice break at the end of the note, yet he couldn’t bring himself to do what you were asking - no, pleading - him to do. Not because he wanted to torture you, or because he was angry. Actually, scratch that, he was still angry at you, but that wasn’t the real and complete reason for his absence.

The reason for his disappearance was a soft, elegant and reserved girl with a big love and understanding for classics and a crazy amount of hatred for the contemporaries, the type of girl that looks like she could break under the weight of life, from his Contemporary Literature class. He had noticed her the first day of class as she hurriedly ran past a group of students hogging the door, sitting down at the back with all her things. Head always low, as he would then learn that she only raised it when something really sparked her attention. 

Later on, Taehyung had found out that she was half French and half Korean, born and raised in South Korea until the age of ten, then moved to France until her early adulthood. She had won a scholarship thanks to her high GPA, and that’s how she found herself at their college. Her name was Nari, but a lot of her friends, mostly international students, also called her by her French name, Amélie. 

Anyways, it was soon clear that the girl had developed a certain liking towards Jungkook, never making it too obvious, yet evident enough to grasp on it quickly if you were observant. And Jungkook’s eye was built to catch every single detail, whether it was something physical or a change in demeanor. 

The poor girl had no idea, obviously, she thought that no one had ever noticed her cheeks flushing pink whenever the man talked in class, or when they would accidentally make eye contact. She was quick to divert her gaze each time, almost too quickly to pass just as embarrassment. 

She was so pure, so naive. 

So infatuated with a man who was destined to be someone else’s entirely.

She didn’t know that, though.

So she decided to shoot her shot, after being thoroughly coaxed by her friends to act before it was too late. 

The plan was simple, really. Nothing extraordinary, no face to face confrontation needed, not too intricate like kids do. She had written down on a piece of paper her number, signed with her initials, hoping that Jungkook would immediately guess who it was (he did), then slipped it inside his book when everyone left to go grab a snack before the second half of class started. When he returned he didn’t suspect a thing, and the day proceeded as usual.

This was approximately two weeks and a half ago. She hadn’t heard from him though, and even in class he didn’t act differently. She was almost on the verge of giving up truthfully. 

But then, a week ago things changed.

The rain pattered heavily on the city, big drops of water splashing on the ground and wetting the hem of Amélie’s jeans. She tried to squeeze under the roof of the overpacked bus stop, brimming with college students like her trying to get home without too much damage. Rain kept falling on them, and a few drops ran down her cheek and arm as she wasn’t completely protected. She huffed annoyed, wiping away the single rain drop from her face, silently praying that the bus would arrive soon. 

Somewhere, a group of students sighed in relief at the sight of a blue and white bus coming from the end of the street. And she almost joined them, if it wasn’t for her phone suddenly ringing with a new notification.

[Unknown number] (2 new messages)

⤷ hey, is this nari? from contemporary lit. class?

⤷ it’s jungkook

She gasped at the messages, clutching the phone in her hands as she read the words over and over again. She rubbed her eyes, making sure that they were not deceiving her. J-U-N-G-K-O-O-K. Yeah, no, they were definitely not deceiving her. So not only he had found the note, but he also guessed whose number it was. 

Shit. 

She didn’t think she would have made it until this point.

Now what?

Anyway, in the midst of her internal turmoil she hadn’t noticed that the bus stop had emptied drastically, and now the vehicle was driving away, without her.

All because of Jeon fucking Jungkook.

Great.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Generally speaking, Amélie would not describe herself as someone who takes part of hookup culture. Growing up around friends who did, she saw the aftermath: countless calls lasting hours and hours on end, friends sobbing in her shoulder cause they realised that not even sex would bring them their desired person, a dark cloud walking around with them until somehow, someway, they pulled themselves out of this depressive state.

It seemed miserable, to be honest, definitely not worth for a fuck every once in a while. That’s why she had decided to wait until she got a boyfriend, which would not save her from a heartbreak but at least it would spare her from crying about a relationship that was built on nonexistent foundations to begin with.

Which is exactly why she had no idea how she ended up in Jungkook’s bed, her naked body lying spent on top of the bedsheets, chest heaving as she recovered. Jungkook rolled off her with a groan, muttering something as he got up to throw away the used condom, then sitting back down on the bed with a huff.

This wasn’t the first time it had happened, but for some reason, something felt off this time around. She could sense that there was something up in Jungkook’s mind, yet she knew better than to force him to talk.

In a way, without knowing, she was preserving her sanity. Sometimes, being clueless is the best cure to an illness you do not know to have.

She turned to lay on her side, watching quietly as Jungkook slipped inside a clean pair of sweatpants, running his hand through his hair to revive them. His shoulders were tense, and there was an eerie silence inside the room. Amélie’s brows furrowed, a little voice at the back of her head nagging about a bad vibe it had caught on. 

She let her eyes travel from the boy sat at the edge of the bed to the door, a glimpse of something pink catching her attention. Sitting by the door was a sort of open closet, with all sorts of jackets and shirts hanging on their hangers. Under them, there was a long drawer filled with god knows what, but the pink glimpse she had caught on was stored inside a basket on top of said drawer. She squinted her eyes, trying to focus on the object she was looking at.

She gasped, quick, soft, reflexes fast enough to silence herself before he noticed. Her heart jumped up in her throat, and her skin broke in goosebumps all over.

A pink hair straightener. Inside Jungkook’s basket. A quick glance at the mass of hair that was now bent forward – focused on his phone – gave her the confirmation of something she already knew: those weren’t hair that are straightened. Heck, he probably didn’t even brush them.

She swallowed hard, mouth going dry as her eyes scanned the room for more.

Why didn’t she think of it before?

Her breath picked up as more and more signs of a woman being present in Jungkook’s life were presented to her unbelieving eyes: a hair tie hanging from one of his pens, another charger discarded on the kitchen table, a black mascara and a lipgloss sitting side by side on his desk, right by the keyboard.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, fuck!

She got up abruptly as panic started to settle in, grabbing her underwear and shirt before running for the bathroom, not even acknowledging Jungkook’s confused “what’s going on?”

She let her body collapse against the door, clutching her clothes to her chest desperately like it would change anything, letting the cold feeling of both the door and the fabric cool her burning skin and bring her back to the moment. Slowly, the realization began to settle heavy on her stomach.

Was she… the other woman? 

Her eyes ran frantically all over the place, noticing only now things she hadn’t paid attention to before: two toothbrushes, two different brands of toothpaste and a hairbrush that looked like a woman’s one, all close together by the sink. Bottles of perfume that read “eau de parfum – for her” at the front. Tears pricked at her eyes, her throat burning with the need to scream and cry all her frustrations, all her anger and disappointment. They weren’t together and he had made it clear from the beginning, but using her to cheat on another woman? How vile can a man be to act this way?

Quickly she slipped her clothes on, twisting the bathroom door knob open, ready to scream at the man sitting on the bed how disgusting he was, how angry she was at him, when suddenly the door to the dorm room bursted open.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

Life’s a bitch and you knew it. Your parents never forgot to remind you that, and you never did. Or at least, so you thought, cause while standing frozen at Jungkook’s doorway with him in only his sweatpants and a girl dressed in a shirt and panties, one thought crossed your mind: you didn’t forget, but you took it for granted.

And now it’s time that you remember that you revise your parents’ lessons, since you clearly need them.

The human body has a weird way to react to unexpected situations: time seems to stop and dilate even though you know that it's only a weird illusion, your body freezes, standing there stone-cold, your heart rate suddenly spikes.

What you weren't ready to feel, though, was the sudden pang of... what was it? Uneasiness? Hurt? Either way, whatever it was was twisting your heart in its grasp, squeezing and pulling until you felt like it was moments away from jumping out of your ribcage.

Your eyes jumped from side to side of the room, taking in the absurdity of the scene: from Jungkook, rising from the bed still half naked, to the girl you did not know, trying her best to cover her bottom half with the hem of her shirt. You couldn't help but notice the tears streaking down her cheeks, and the way she looked at you suggested that she knew something you did not know of. Whatever it was it didn't matter, cause without speaking a word you turned on your heels and headed back outside, ignoring Jungkook's urgent tone as he called you back in.

"Wait! Y/N! It's not what it looks like!" he yelled from his doorway, cursing under his breath as he saw you get far away from him. He snatched his shirt from the ground, putting it on hurriedly before bolting out of the door.

A soft voice from inside stopped him in his tracks. "What is it, then?"

Jungkook turned around, watching with a stoic face as Amélie's eyes drowned in tears.

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend," she whispered, trying her best to appear as put together as possible.

Jungkook sighed, shaking his head side to side. He leaned against the doorframe, running a hand through his hair before admitting in an almost tired voice. "She's not my girlfriend. It's... more complicated than this."

He paused. He looked at her, and he saw that there was no trace anymore of the naive, innocent girl he had met the first day. In a way, his touch had corrupted her, stained her with a sin that she did not deserve.

"You should leave," he concluded, turning around and closing the door behind him, letting silence take over the room.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

You should have listened to Jimin. You really, really should have.

He told you it wouldn't be a good idea, told you it would probably end up in chaos right now.

He didn't tell you that there was the chance that your bestfriend had disappeared cause he was busy getting his dick wet, ignoring you for a week straight for some other girl you had never met before.

Truthfully, Jungkook having sex wasn't exactly the reason for his absence none of you expected. Mostly because... it didn't make any sense.

Who the fuck disappears cause they've got a girlfriend?

Jeon Jungkook, apparently.

You huffed, running a hand over your chest. Jeez, why did it feel like you've been stabbed over and over again?

"Y/N!" you turned around, looking around the dorm lobby until you found Jimin waving at you from the other side. Close to him were Taehyung and Yoongi, the three of them having just entered the building.

"How... oh no."

"Oh no what?"

"You look like shit."

"Thanks, Jimin."

"Hey, not my fault! I suppose you two had a fight?"

"Oh," you chuckled nervously, going around in circles like an encased tiger. "We didn't even make it to that point. Mr. no-where-to-be-found was busy getting laid. Can you believe that? I cried for days on end because he wouldn't reply and he was just... having fun. Crazy, right?"

"Y/N–"

"I'm the stupid one, though. I could have done the same, instead of bothering you and feeling like shit all this time. I could have said, oh that's how life is, and moved on. But no, I had to cry myself to sleep every night first, then fucking explode and burst his door open just to find him with someone else."

"Y/N, shut–"

"And you know what's worse? That I feel like shit, too! It's like someone's fucking squeezing my heart and torturing me to see–"

"Petal."

© voitier 2025

a.n: it's finally here! I'm sorry I have edged you all for so long, truly had a rough time lately. I've read all the messages under the last post where I've explained what's going on and I appreciate each one of them! truly cannot thank you all enough🤍

I hope this chapter was worth the wait, let me know what you think of it! love you all so so much <3

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[writingjourney]

Here in the After

!!! this fic contains spoilers for RHRN, do not read on if you wish to remain spoiler-free!!!

It is an involuntary trust exercise. To give up what he built for half a decade, the legacy he took over, being forced to let it rest in the hands of someone else. Or: Copia is taking up his new position. It’s not an easy feat.

content: 1.8k words, gn!reader, angst, grief, hurt/comfort, some fluff and kisses, post!rhrn so spoilers, established relationship

Masterlist – Ao3 link

1 – White dust sheets cover the furniture like ghosts of a life left behind. The path forward is hidden underneath layers of insecurity and grief but as he packs up years of work in pre-used cardboard boxes it almost feels as though he cannot see the path at all.

His new office is just down the hall. It is a fast job. Two trips and his desk has become another ghost. One more trip and he has emptied out all personal belongings from the dusty shelves. The rest stays, not useful to him anymore in his new function.

It is an involuntary trust exercise. To give up what he built for half a decade, the legacy he took over, being forced to let it rest in the hands of someone else. Unlike his brothers he had no way to prepare who follows his footsteps and perhaps that is where the ache in his belly comes from – the uncertainty.

He cannot quite bring himself to unpack the boxes in his new office yet. But it is not his office anyway, Copia thinks. No, it is his mother’s office and he feels like an intruder placing his things on her desk. Her smell clings to the old fabrics, clings to him, a strong perfume that Copia has not been able to get out of his nose ever since he covered her body with yet another white sheet.

Yet another ghost.

It has not been long, he tells himself, a weak comfort. As he stands here with an old card she wrote him – Welcome Home, C! – he can hear the clicking of his mother’s shoes on the tiled floors like a faint echo that haunts the hallways of the Ministry. Everyone is busy preparing for this transitional period, mourning their Mother Superior, but now it is Copia who has to guide them, navigate them through this darkness.

He realises that he himself has footsteps to follow and that he is just as unprepared. A new era, for all of them.

“Love?”

He turns and his world lights up for a brief moment. You occupy the doorframe in a black mourning habit, the one all Siblings chose to wear in honour of his mother. Of course he finds that it suits you better than anyone else. But perhaps that is because he has felt the sturdy fabric against his wet cheeks so many times now that it means comfort, home.

“Do you still need help with the boxes?” you ask.

All he can do is shake his head. You approach and he wants to close the card, hide it away, not even sure why. You have seen the fallout, you have held him through the worst of it. Perhaps he is ashamed, in a way, that he cannot move on as fast as his new role demands of him.

“Was this from her?” you ask, nestling up to his side.

“Mhm.”

His hand is trembling lightly as you lay yours to rest on top of his. The swipe of your thumb against his bare wrist sends goosebumps down his spine and when you wrap the other arm around his waist his eyes are watering.

“Perhaps you can frame it, together with some photos,” you suggest.

He nods, leaning into your embrace as a solid rock forms in his throat. You hold him and he lets the silent tears run down his cheeks, gathering at the dip of his chin. Your thumb continues to draw slow crescents over his pulse. He can’t speak. He does not have to.

✦ ✧ ✦

2 – He is glued to the mirror.

You try not to fuss, he is nervous as is. It is first official day, after all.

“I didn’t know you had a new uniform,” you say with a lint roller in hand, joining him in the bedroom. The jacket is brand new, all black but unusual in its ornamentation, satin lapels that run from his neck towards his armpits. A clerical collar underneath sparkles against his Adam’s apple.

“I eh… splurged,” he says, cheeks dusted a bashful red.

He says it like he is wasteful, does it whenever he treats himself to something, but you also know he is wearing the same black winklepickers he wore as a Cardinal ten years ago, never replaces any pieces of clothing until he finds holes in the fabric, that he only bought new jackets when he could use them on stage to look his best for the audience. The suit is no different, it is as much a boost to his confidence as it is a display of his new status. A performance.

“It is a rather nice suit,” you note, running the lint roller down his back.

“Mhm.” He pauses, looks down at himself and tugs at the sleeves. “It is… unfamiliar.”

“You wear it well, Copia.”

He smiles and his confidence resurfaces. You find that he looks handsome in a completely new way. You have seen so many facets of him that you can tell he is beginning to mold himself into this role, even if he might not see it himself yet. In the mirror, a stranger is looking back at him through black-rimmed eyes but in time he will see himself again, a grown version.

“It is not all,” he says. “I… found something. In the desk drawer.”

He points to a velvety black box on the dresser. Inside, you find a beautiful ornament, two ruby brooches holding a bejewelled black grucifix, another ruby at the bottom. It is one of the most beautiful, elaborate pieces you have ever seen.

“A gift, I think.”

He looks uncertain when you glance up. But you have no doubt that it was meant for him, meant for today. You carefully take it out of the box, delicate as it looks it feels sturdy and well-crafted. One brooch to each lapel and the grucifix dangles over his heart. Light from the window catches in the gemstones, a prism splitting the ray into sparkles that reflect in the mirror, a spectacle of multicoloured beams flickering across the walls.

Copia watches the dancing lights, mesmerised, until the sun hides behind a cloud and the room is gloomy yet again. When you focus back on him a tear pearls from his left eye, running down his cheek and leaving a black streak in its wake. The piece is more than jewels – it is a memory, a promise, a token of trust.

“It is beautiful,” you say. “As are you, Copia. So beautiful.”

His smile is tinged with sadness but there is hope, now, too. You smooth out his jacket, admiring him for a moment, unconcealed, and he must see it in your eyes because the smile shifts until one corner of his mouth pulls into a lighthearted smirk.

“Do I get a kiss?” he asks.

You grab the satin and pull him close. One day you are going to peel him out of this jacket and it won’t feel heavy anymore.

✦ ✧ ✦

3 – You gently wipe at his under-eye. The black smudge is persistent and you stop when the skin turns red. Copia’s eyes are closed even as he holds you. Wrapped around you he feels hot to the touch, almost feverish. He has gone non-verbal since he came home and you give him the space he needs, soft touches, rest and quiet.

The tension of the day still sits in his muscles, you can feel the knots when you run your hands over his back. The hot shower did not help, nor did the pasta he barely touched for dinner. He did well, everyone said this to you today. Whether he feels it you are not so certain.

You lean in and press a kiss to the round tip of his freckled nose. He blinks at you through tired, reddened eyes, lips curving into a lazy half-smile. His hand tightens at your waist, slides underneath your shirt to feel your skin. He’s your whole world molded into the shape of a man. Love, stored in the crinkles of his crow’s feet, every line on his face, in the brushstrokes of grey at his temples, an endless supply.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper, trailing the curve of his spine.

His eyes open and you feel guilty for disrupting his peace. But then he pulls you ever closer, squishing, the softness of your bodies mingling with a comforting warmth.

“I don’t…” He stops, brows pulled together. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I have no doubt that you can.” You study his features, move your hand to trace the lines of tension and smooth them out. He lets you, eyelids fluttering at the soft touch. “Every day from now on will be easier, Copia. My baby, I have such confidence in you. Unshakable.”

The words stir something in him. Some wetness gathers in his odd eyes but he blinks it away. You have to fight your own tears, good tears, for how far he has come. Then Copia nods, nods again but with more conviction. A deep exhale through his nose and he swallows the doubts away.

“You are right, always,” he says. “I was Papa Emeritus IV, eh? I did that.”

“You did.” A smile, proud and amused. “And now you are Frater Imperator.”

“Mhm, I am.”

“You are the head of this church, they are still your flock, adoring you, admiring you, trusting you. None of this has changed.” You cradle his face in both hands, a firm press of your thumbs to his cheekbones. “And you are still the man I love.”

“I am?”

“Forever.”

He closes the gap himself, a grateful kiss, seeking. You try to give him what he needs, firm and soft kisses, hands roaming, legs entangles. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, deeper still until all air escapes you and a dizzy fog fills your head. He is all you know, all you want for the rest of this life you live together.

The kisses slow down, not any less deep, and he cradles your head, keeping you pressed together. There is some need building, a languid wave that fades out in ripples. You feel him stir against your leg but he is not quite here with you, not entirely, and it subsides after a moment.

He breaks away with a heavy sigh, keeps his eyes closed.

“Perhaps not tonight,” you say, stroking his hair.

He nods and rests his forehead against yours. His breath tickles your nose, the embrace tighter than before. It feels easier now, somehow, and you can picture it so clearly. The future, him, and even in your head the world is quiet as you hold him close.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed – kudos, comments, rbs etc are as always much appreciated ♡

Masterlist – my Ao3 – Join my tag list

[frostiexavier]

˖⁺(hold on tight)_🖤

☆ photo taken from game ☆

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆꒷꒦꒷⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

✮♱✮ summary: For Sylus’ birthday you took him to your favorite amusement park. He is happy to be spending the day with you but he has to face his fears. He could probably avoid it, right?

✮♱✮ warnings: fluff, sylus x fem reader, birthday sylus tehe, cute sylus, slight jealous sylus, fear of roller coasters, idk what else its just cute and soft

✮♱✮ word count: 3.6k

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆꒷꒦꒷⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

“Here are your passes, enjoy your day!”, the ticket lady said as she smiled at you and sylus. You thank the lady with a smile. You place Sylus’s wristband pass on his wrist and he helped you put yours on as well.

“Are you excited? I got the fast passes so we can skip the lines and go straight to the rides”, you smile and he nods. He silently gulps just thinking about it.

“You know kitten, you should have let me pay. I know these fast passes must have been pricey, you could have gotten the normal ones”, he smirks and you grab his hand. You look up at him with a teasing grin.

“I’m not going to let the birthday boy pay for his present. Now hush about money and follow me.”, he snickers and follows along with you. He curses in his head, why did you have to get the fast passes??

You enter the amusement park and you are astounded by the crowd today, it's busier than normal. You make your way through the crowds of people and pull Sylus to the side. You both take shelter under a table with an umbrella placed in the center, giving you both shade from the beating sun. You take a seat next to him and look up at his face, your expression serious.

“Okay here is the game plan”, you grab Sylus by the back of the neck and tug his face closer to you so he can hear you.

“So I was thinking, let's do some small rides first, then we can take a break and eat lunch. After that, we can do the bigger rides and then on the way out we can do the small carnival games”, you set your game plan but Sylus is too busy staring at your lips to notice what you are saying. He finds your serious tone adorable and can’t help but admire your dedication to his birthday plans.

“Sylus!”, you wave your hand in front of his face to get his attention and his eyes flicker back up to meet your eyes.

“Sorry sweetie, I got distracted”, he says deeply and you give him a blank stare. He smiles and kisses your forehead before leaning away. He grabs your hand again, standing up from the table. He starts walking with you as you head towards some of the small and slow rides.

“Alright small rides first”, he says and you smile knowing he was actually listening to you. You both walk towards the small rides and there is alot to choose from.

“Which one should we do first?”, you ask him and he looks at you with a small grin.

“Whatever you’d like, kitten”, he says softly but in reality he is panicking. Don’t get him wrong, Sylus can handle anything but roller coasters? Not his thing, he hates them. He likes getting adrenaline from other sources, not being thrown around in the air like a rag doll. His motorcycle is enough for him, anything other than that he doesn’t want it. However, he is willing to hide his fear for you. You were excited to plan out his birthday and he didn’t want to disappoint you with this absurd little fear. What is one day? What are a couple roller coasters? He refuses to let this eat at him, he can conquer it.

“What about the tea cups? Or is that too kiddish for the leader of Onichynus?”, you ask teasingly and he chuckles deeply.

“Sweetie, you really think some spinning cups can make me look less intimidating? If anything you should be scared for the tea cups, they may break as soon as I sit in them.”, he says and you hide your laugh. He has a point, how was he going to fit in those small cups? You skip right to the front of the line with your handy dandy passes and the ride operator guides you to a pink teacup. You smile imagining seeing Sylus in a pink teacup from a 3rd person point of view.

You watch as he struggles to get in with his broad body, he has to man spread to be able to sit down. You can’t help but chuckle when he lets out a big sigh after getting situated.

“Having fun?”, he scoffs and smirks at you.

“So much fun”, you try to hide your giggle.

“4 to a tea cup please, 4 to a teacup”, you hear the operator state and you immediately look at sylus. How are two more people going to fit in this tea cup?

“Here is an open one”, two guys slide into the tea cup right next to you, they have to sit pretty close to you due to the lack of space.

“Sorry”, the young man says and you shake your head.

“No worries, it's a bit cramped in here”, you lightly laugh and you can hear sylus scoff.

“I’m Michael by the way”, he says but before you can say anything the teacups start to move. You grab the small wheel in front of you and start to spin it. Sylus has his elbow propped up on the side of the teacup and his chin resting between his index finger and thumb. He leans back slightly to enjoy watching you spin the teacup. This way okay, he thought. This ride wasn’t too fast and it wasn’t making him dizzy, maybe this amusement park thing wasn't bad after all. He smiles watching you but it quickly fades as he sees “Michael” glancing at you and trying to reach his arm over your shoulder.

Sylus quickly wrapped his free index finger around one of your shorts belt loops and slid you toward him, he grabs your hips and sits you on his lap.

“Sylus!”, you exclaim, cheeks burning red as you look around at the people watching. He looks over to Michael as he gives him a glare that he will never want to see again. Michael quickly turns his gaze back to the wheel and keeps spinning.

You also just continue spinning the wheel and sylus reaches from behind you and places his hand atop of yours, helping you spin it. You smile at his gesture but after a few minutes the ride comes to an end. Michael and his friend quickly leave the teacup first making Sylus chuckle under his breath. You have to help Sylus get out of the teacup because his legs felt like they were going to give out.

“Did you enjoy the teacups?”, you ask, walking away from the ride.

“I…didn’t hate it”, he says, making you frown. He pats your head and you look up at him.

“But I may enjoy that more”, he smirks and points to the bumper cars. You look back up at him with doe like eyes and nod your head. He laughs and you both make your way to the bumper cars.

You get individual cars and avoid all the people around you and just focus on each other. You both hit each other's cars from different angles, each hit making you both laugh. Sylus was starting to actually smile which made butterflies erupt in your tummy. You both do a few more smaller rides such as the water boat ride and go karts.

“Do you want to take a break and get some lunch? There is a really good pizza place here”, you smile and he nods immediately, not even thinking about your offer.

“Grab us a table kitten, I’ll order our food”, he squeezes your hand and makes his way to the line to order food. You find a nice picnic style table with an umbrella shading the area. You sit down and grab the small box in your pocket that you have been hiding from sylus all day. You are nervous to give him a gift since it's the first one you have ever given him but you hope he likes it.

You see sylus’ shadow tower behind you before he moves to sit down next to you at the picnic table. He sits a water bottle down in front of you along with a slice of cheese pizza.

“This is nice, if you want more just tell me and I’ll go get it for you.” , he smiles and opens the bottle of water for you. He does the same with his own and takes a drink before biting into his pizza. He is so considerate it makes your heart melt. You fiddle with your fingers and sylus notices you haven’t started eating yet.

“What's wrong? Do you want something different?”, he asks and you shake your head.

“No it's not that…”, you trail off and take the small box you were hiding and slide it over the table top towards him.

“What's this?”, he chuckles as he wipes his hands on a napkin then picks up the small box.

“It's your birthday gift”, you nod at him and he looks confused but slightly smiles.

“I thought this was my birthday gift”, he says gesturing to the amusement park.

“This is just us spending time together for your birthday, I wanted to actually gift you something”, you say with a slight blush on your face. His gaze on you is so strong you can’t help but blush.

“You’re a sly one aren’t you kitten?”, he says, making your face burn even more. He smirks at your reaction and then slowly opens the box.

The box contains a silver chain connecting a small circular locket at the end. He pulls it out and opens it, the locket is empty and he turns to look at you.

“I-It’s empty”, his voice softens like his gaze when he looks over to you.

“Yeah I thought I would let you choose what goes in it”, you say and Sylus smiles then looks back at the locket.

“I love it, thank you”, he says and places the locket back in the box, he places it securely in his pocket. He leans over to give you a kiss on the cheek and you can’t help but blush again. You both sit in silence as you eat your pizza and enjoy the gentle breeze of the wind. Once you both finish Sylus takes your trash and throws it in the nearest bin.

“Alright what’s next on the birthday agenda?”, he asks and your smile widens.

“It’s time for the big guns, let's ride the eagle. You are literally hanging in the air the whole time, I heard it even goes backwards!”, you say with excitement as you grab his hand and make your way over to the line for the ride. Sylus’ heart starts to pound, his anxiety starts to kick in.

“Oh man, I guess alot of people bought fast passes this time, looks like we will have to wait a bit”, you say looking up at Sylus, who doesn’t seem annoyed.

“That’s okay, we can just wait”, he says with a small smile and you raise an eyebrow at him. He has a tight grip on your hand the whole time and you feel him squeeze it each time the line starts to move.

As you both were next in line Sylus finally speaks for the first time.

“Hey sweetie, uh I need to use the restroom”, he says frantically.

“We are next, you can’t hold it?”, you ask him and he shakes his head quickly.

“Its emergent, we can get back in line after”, he says already pulling you out of the line and heading towards the nearest restrooms. He lets go of your hand and practically runs into the mens restroom.

Once sylus enters he goes to the sink and runs cool water over his face multiple times. Bystanders give him a strange look and proceed to walk out of the bathroom.

“It’s practically like your evol, you can do this. You aren’t afraid of anything. This is nothing, you are not weak”, he says to himself in the mirror. He takes a deep breath and grabs a paper towel to wipe the water off his face. He gives himself a motivated nod in the mirror before he exits the restroom.

“Sorry kitten, let’s get back in line”, he says and you slightly laugh.

“No worries, it happens”, you smile up at him, his heart melts everytime you flash him that adorable smile. You get back in line and Sylus’ hand remains in yours. The line wasn’t as long this time so you quickly make your way back to your previous spot. His hand grips yours as the ride operator gestures you both to step onto the ride.

You both are still standing as the operator helps hook you and sylus both into the ride. Your chest is the only thing secured as your feet will dangle during the ride. While the operator was helping others get secured you look over at sylus. He is staring at the ground and his hands are gripping the handle bars for dear life. His forehead is sweaty and his skin is a bit paler than normal.

“Sylus are you okay?” you ask him and his head quickly turns towards you.

“I-I’m fine kitten”, he says, his breathing shaky and his hands trembling.

“Sylus, are you sure? We can get off if you want, we don’t have to ride this”, you say grabbing his hand. His hand is clammy and cold.

“I can do this, I’m not scared.”, he says but refusing to look at you. He looks at the ground and tries to focus on calming himself down.

“It’s okay to be scared, seriously Sylus we can do something else”, you say, squeezing his hand tightly.

“Okay”, he says and you turn to ask the operator to let you both off the ride but it's too late. You get interrupted by an announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen please hang on tight as you soar through the sky”, the operator announces and the ride starts to lift and you feel your feet start to dangle. You look over at sylus who is looking at his feet dangling with wide eyes.

“Sylus look at me”, you say and he meets your gaze.

“I’m right here, it’s going to be okay. It will be over soon, I’m right here”, you grab his hand and squeeze it. He squeezes it back and nods at your words. He closes his eyes as the ride starts and it takes off at full speed. His grip on your hand got tighter and he scrunched his face up as the ride started at full blast. You held onto him as tightly as possible.

The ride starts to slow down as you are going up, building up for a big drop.

“Sylus you okay?”, you yell and he looks over at you and nods briefly. Thankfully the ride slowed down a bit to give him a break.

“Listen, there is going to be a big drop once we get to the top, just hold onto me okay?”, you yell and he grips your palm again. His other hand grips the hand rail and he closes his eyes again, bracing for impact. The ride eventually gets to the top, all the passengers erupting into a scream. Sylus opens his eyes from the noise and sees the drop, his eyes widen. Within seconds you are falling with the drop and you hear sylus scream from beside you.

You hold onto his hand and throw them both in the air and scream excitedly. He looks over to you and sees that you are enjoying the ride. After the drop the coaster goes at a fast speed like it did before. He loosens his grip on the other handle and puts his hand in the air, trying to enjoy the ride.

He looks over to you screaming at the top of your lungs with the wind blowing your hair as far back as it can go. Your face is plastered with a smile and he can’t help but admire you. Suddenly he isn’t scared anymore because having you right by his side, there is nothing to fear.

Within minutes the ride is over, you both look at each other and laugh. You are still holding onto his hand until the operator helps you both out of the roller coaster. You grab his hand once again and you both exit the ride and back into the park. His hand still trembling, you rub his arm to calm him and lead him to the nearest bench so you both can sit down. He takes a few deep breaths and you speak once he has calmed down a bit.

“You didn’t tell me you had a fear of roller coasters”, you say looking up at his now calm expression. He clears his throat and meets your gaze.

“I didn’t want to seem fearful and I wanted to overcome it without you noticing, I’m sorry”, he says and you pull him down to where he is eye level with you. You trace your thumb over his cheek and look into his eyes.

“Sylus I don’t want you to hide your fears from me, I want you to express your emotions. I would never judge you for being scared of something, that’s not who I am”, you say to him and he smiles as he relaxes under your touch. He was silly to think you would have thought less of him if you knew his fear.

“I know sweetie, thank you, and I’n sorry for ruining the fun”, he says, grabbing your hand and placing a gentle kiss on your palm.

“Stop apologizing, you didn’t ruin anything! I have been having fun all day with you!”, you smile and he pats your head and runs his fingers through your hair, all the way to the end.

“Is there something else you would like to do? There are a ton of carnival style games we could play too”, you suggest.

Sylus noticed the sun was starting to set as the day had passed by quickly, his gaze met a small photo booth. He smiled and pointed to the booth.

“There, let's get a momento”, he says and you return his smile. He grabs your hand once again and leads you toward the photo booth.

Sylus gets in first and his figure takes up the entire seat, leaving you to have to sit on his lap for the second time today. You giggle as you enter and take a seat on one of his thighs. You both pick out a theme together, getting 4 pictures in total so you both think of poses.

The first pose you both hold up finger guns in an intense pose. You both laugh at the photo and for the second pose decide to go with giving each other bunny ears. You can’t help but smile wider seeing sylus smile into the camera as well. The third pose he takes your face in his hand and squishes your cheeks making your cheeks puff out. Before you can protest the picture is taken and he laughs.

“Sylus!”, you lightly smack his chest and he rubs it acting like you actually hurt him. You roll your eyes and the countdown for the next photo is already at 3 seconds. You look at him hurriedly and grab his face. He closes his eyes and you place a sweet kiss to his cheek and you hear the snap of the camera.

His eyes flutter open and he meets your gaze. He closes his eyes again and leans down to properly kiss you. He places his hand gently on your cheek as you close your eyes, feeling his lips meeting yours. He moves slowly, making sure to savor the moment. He pulls away and smiles against your lips.

“Happy Birthday Sylus”, you whisper to him and he whispers a small “thank you” back and kisses the top of your forehead.

Like it was perfect timing, the photos printed but 3 copies were printed by accident.

“Look Sylus, we have three copies, I thought we were only supposed to get two”, you say looking at all 3 copies of the prints.

“It must be birthday luck, can I have two copies then kitten?”, he asks, teasing you by taking two copies from your hand without hesitation.

“I guess that's a yes”, you chuckle as he holds the pictures and looks at them, admiring your cute face.

“What else would you like to do? The park closes soon I think”, you ask and he shakes his head.

“Let’s go home, I am a bit tired from all the walking”, he says and you laugh, grabbing his hand to hold.

“Are you already getting old on me, Sylus?”, you laugh as you both walk toward the park exit. He chuckles and looks down at you.

“No matter how old I get, I will still use all of my strength to walk alongside you and hold your hand”, he says, intertwining your fingers together. His sweet statement makes your cheeks burn from heat and your heart flutter.

When you both get home you surprise Sylus with a birthday cake that you had luke & kieran pick up while you both were at the park. You ended the day eating cake and watching a movie in bed, cuddled up of course. Once Sylus notices you are asleep he quietly sneaks out of bed and to his study. He brings the locket chain you got him and places it gently on his desk. He takes the extra copy of printed photos and a pair of scissors, he then cuts the picture of your squished cheeks out to fit into his locket.

He places a tiny piece of doubled sided tape and presses it into the locket, it's surprisingly a perfect fit. He smiles while tracing the edge of the locket with his index finger. He places the locket next to his infamous brooch and goes back to bed. He tugs you closer to him, his chest meeting your back. He kisses your temple and whispers, “goodnight kitten”.

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆꒷꒦꒷⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱

a/n: I’m sorry this was

1. Trash

2. Super late

and 3. that I feel off the planet for almost a month

BUT IM BACK, I loved this at first then hated it so sorry to my Sylus girlies but Happy Late Birthday Sylus!!

Next will be Xavier fluff then back to my smut series muhahahaha

[avroravia]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ “OH HONEY, HONEY, I COULD BE YOUR BODYGUARD…”

- bodyguard! dallas winston x spoiled!actress! reader

: ̗̀➛ summary. when spoiled!actress! reader makes it as the star of hollywood’s latest blockbuster, her parents are desperate to keep her safe; which is why they hired dallas as her bodyguard. (even if he probably has a longer criminal record than the men her parents are worried about!)

: ̗̀➛ warnings. old married couple bickering, swearing, striptease(?), very flirty.

: ̗̀➛ taglist. @diorgirl444, @r0seb100d, @johnnycadesslut, @twobitsblade, @browneyebby / @isasweetie, @glxsyymads, @mystiqueonfleek007, & @beyondbluess. (send an ask or dm to be added! <3)

you sat facing your vanity, freshly straightened hair neatly tucked in rollers and setting powder patted under your eyes. you were still in your pink silk robe, white fur lining the hems, because you wouldn’t dare to risk ruining your gown.

your hair and makeup team ran around the room to ensure you looked perfect for the big night. from coffee to hairspray, every need of yours was met instantly.

dallas was tucked by your side like always, sitting in the chair beside you. he had been ready hours before you, your team having been on it as soon as possible.

dallas hadn’t been one for a pampered lifestyle. in fact, he applied for the job as a joke, but when your parents read 6’2 and 200 lbs, they decided he was perfect for the job. and who was dallas to deny 6-figures, hanging out with a gorgeous actress, and a free place to stay at night?

he couldn’t complain, however. dallas had every single one of his needs met fully. and he couldn’t lie, it was fun bragging to tim that he got paid to hang out with a hot soc actress all day.

regardless, you can take a greaser out of the grease, but you can’t take the grease out of the greaser. dallas was living proof of this, and despite having walked his fair share of red carpets by now, he never got quite used to the whole fame thing.

he sat in the wooden foldable chair of your dressing room, bad posture, manspreading, and itching for a cigarette. dallas was like a greaser trapped in the body of a soc.

“christ, doll, this fuckin’ tie is choking my neck…” dallas groaned, fingers tugging against the grey satin fabric.

you turned over to look at him, brows furrowing at the sight of him loosening his tie. tugging at his wrist, dallas winced when you slightly dug your fresh pink acrylics into his pale skin.

“will you stop that?” you hissed, arms crossed. “gonna ruin all of my pictures… and will you quit slouching?”

“alright-alright, cool it, doll…” dallas brushed you off, quietly fixing his tie back to your liking

your makeup artist quickly chided you for furrowing your brows and creasing your concealer. she quickly fixed it, before you shut your eyes so she could apply the final touches to your eye makeup.

once she had finished, and your hair stylist had removed your rollers, you were ready for the finishing touches of your look. despite this, dallas had other plans.

“hey- look, give her a little space, yeah?” he told your hairstylist and makeup artist, standing up to meet their gazes when he realised you were almost finished.

the two girls looked at him, confused at his sudden conversation considering he usually ignored them.

“are you sure? we have to make sure she puts it on right-” your makeup artist was quickly cut off by him.

“she’s got it.” dallas assured them, guiding (forcing) them out of your dressing room. “she’s a big girl, she can put on a little dress by herself.”

the two of them didn’t argue, dallas was intimidating after all. when he had shut the door in their faces, and clicked the lock on the room shut, he turned around to look at you.

“well aren’t you going out too, dally?” you teased, looking up at dallas through thick, false lashes.

“nah. see i’m your bodyguard, doll. s’my job to make sure you’re safe.” dallas told you, sitting back down in his designated chair. “who knows what kinda weirdo’ll sneak in if i ain’t around, huh?”

you only sighed, getting up to grab the freshly steamed pink silk dress off of the hanger. as you were about to change, you noticed that dallas was very obviously watching.

“aren’t you gonna turn around?”

“no way. gotta make sure nobody’s sneakin’ up on you, baby.”

despite murmuring something about dallas being a ‘perv,’ you accepted his decision without a fight. he was your bodyguard after all. he only wanted to keep you safe… right?

letting your robe fall to the floor, exposing nearly your entire body to him. dallas watched, eyes wide and grin big. he couldn’t help but admire the sight of you in a little pink thong and matching bra.

in true dallas fashion, he was quick to let out a low whistle and a cheeky remark about your ass. you just rolled your eyes, and slipped your dress on.

“dal,’ you wanna help me zip it up?” you offered, turning your back to him.

“yeah, i gotchu, baby.” dallas hummed, emerging from his seat.

his arm wrapped around your waist, making you giggle. he quickly zipped it up, before accompanying it with a kiss on your neck and a light pat on your ass over the soft fabric of your dress.

“god, i can’t wait to take this off tonight…”

[dejwrld]

ʚ₊˚‧ ✿ no distractions, ushijima wakatoshi x black fem reader / nsfw + mdni

┊ •° ੈ ⋆° ┊ warning readers discretion is advised — black reader with descriptors, her/she pronouns, female anatomy described, established relationship (reader & ushijima are engaged), just some thoughts, quick drabble, mentions of reader being an influencer, nicknames (reader calls ushijima bear), alluding to smut but it ain't long just a paragraph or two, mentions unprotected intercourse, unedited, consider this a sorry for how long it's taking me to drop part 2 of marry you

He understood why Coach Susaku decided to rent out a traditional Japanese home for some of the players. Most likely to keep a close eye on some of them to ensure they make it to practice on time, keep their heads screwed on correctly before the season comes, and have no distractions.

He wasn't the one prone to break rules, especially with the start of the season so soon (in three days to be exact)—but he just missed her so much that he couldn't resist. A hot shower and an eager you up text later, he's guiding her in the darkness attempting to make as little sound as possible. Which he was sure was impossible because he weighed in at a whopping one hundred and ninety-nine pounds of muscle and was over six feet tall. Moving around stealthily even if he tried was going to be a challenge.

He wanted to mentally curse himself for switching rooms with Kageyama because he wouldn’t have to worry about going up the stairs. His original room was right down from the kitchen, closer to the back entrance of the house that was connected to the way of the hot springs. So here a 6’3, Ushijima was tip toeing up stairs the best he could so he can get to his room upstairs.

When him and his girlfriend finally made it to his room, he finally let out a sigh of relief. The first hardest thing he did tonight was done and he had to only worry about sneaking her back out before everyone else woke up the following morning. His muscular toned thighs can already feel the burn of the laps his coach was going to make him take if he found out he snuck his fiancé in a home where no distractions was allowed.

She was his distraction. He couldn’t help that he was strolling on social media and saw her post from earlier and his body got warm all over. He couldn’t help that he missed his girl. His true love. His other half. The two of them being so busy with their schedules by time they settled in bed, they’re snuggled up together or on their sides of the bed sleeping. Now that he was on the road, it felt like they were drifting apart. Not in a bad way, but more-so a way where their careers had them on a nonstop roller coaster. If he wasn’t away for a game, she was at a brand event in London. If she wasn’t at a brand event, he was training and practicing for a game.

“My bear is breaking the rules for little ole’ me. I feel flattered that he’s risking the most gruesome workout punishment for me.” Y/N giggles lowly while gently placing her sandals on the floor. She discarded them at the door to make the journey up here a little easier for the both of them.

Wakatoshi always cringes when she calls him that, but his cheeks always mask the cringe look he gives us by staining a rose pink color every time it rolls off her tongue. A silly nickname she gave him when they made their first red carpet debut. Quote on quote because of how big and stoic he was when they first met.

“Shh.” He brought his finger to his lips. “Not too loud. Hirugami’s room right across from mine.” He warns her before he’s sliding his white t-shirt off his upper half to get comfortable on the futon below him.

Y/N who came over here in just leggings and one of Wakatoshi’s worn out sweatshirts would nod and begin to slide her leggings off her legs. Ushijima felt like a horn dog for even looking, but who could blame him? They haven’t had sex in weeks. But he didn’t invite her over and possibly broke a house rule for that. He just missed her. Plus, he slept ten times better when she was in close proximity of him.

He climbed under the duvet first before she followed snuggling close to him. The warmth of her body forced Wakatoshi to swallow the harden lump that formed in his throat. His fingers running comforting circles on her body. They’re breathing practically in sync with the crickets that chirped outside.

“How the hell am I going to sneak out of here tomorrow?” She asks quietly.

“Just have to wake up early before everyone else does.” He responds placing a kiss at the crown of her head. The scent of her coconut scented conditioner engulfed his nose in a good way. A comforting way.

He had known she must have rushed over here because she didn’t bring her scarf for her hair. She simply just came with herself and her tote bag.

“I’m not much of a morning person, but perhaps that’s the consequence of sneaking in here.” She snuggles closer to him and lets out a satisfied sigh after bringing her leg to intertwined with his. Her foot teasingly rubbing up and down his calves.

“Baby.”

“Hm?”

“Don’t hm me, you know what you’re doing.”

“I can’t cuddle with my favorite bear.” She says

“Stop with the feet thing,” Wakatoshi warns.

“Fine. But can I get a goodnight kiss before we go to sleep?”

Even in the darkness of the room, he can tell she’s poking her full lips out at his words. She came over here with intentions to rile him up in some type of way. While he thought they was simply going to cuddle and fall asleep, she had something else slithering up her sleeve. She wanted him, which of course made sense. Her texts within him being away oozed with need of him. With how busy they were they simply helped the need with FaceTime calls and invisible ink videos. he still remembered the voice note of her sultry voice moaning out his name while she toyed with her pussy.

So, he's giving her what she wanted. Large hand bridging at the nap of her neck and tugging her into a kiss. He missed the feeling of her lips on his. Soft, delicate, kissable. It always made him feel like he was on cloud nine—laying on the softest clouds, receiving the softest kisses from an angel above.

When the two of them get started, you never can stop them. Wakatoshi knew this. One little kiss turns into making out. Making out trembles to him being in between her stretch-marks decorated thighs. Here he was rubbing his hardened cock on her clothed folds teasing her until her panties stuck upon her pussy lips. Soon he was on top of her, deep inside of her as her teeth bite at his broad shoulders to muffle her moans.

For some reason, through the harsh bites from her—he thought it was so hot. The thought of her poorly attempting to be quiet so they won't get caught. But as soon as he pumped forward one last time, her head fell back into the pillow to let out a dragged-out moan that Ushijima quickly muffled with his hand.

"Are you trying to get us caught, hm?" Ushijima questions through inaudible grunts, his words hitting the shell of her ear and sending a chill down her spine.

When Ushijima looked into her eyes, he saw a glint in her eyes that he'd seen many times. She always had this thing where she challenged him—he has grown to notice she does it so he fuck her a little more harder. Nibble a bit harsher on her skin. Kiss more passionately. The woman was going to drive him insane.

"Fine then.." was the last thing Ushijima Wakatoshi mumbled under breathless pants before hooking her thighs under his strong arms.

His coach said no distractions and he fumbled not even the first day in. But he couldn't help himself, he had such a beautiful girlfriend that he just had to be near her when they did have time. If he had to endure the most tiresome practice drills, he would take that risk, especially for her.

Days when the season started, Ushijima Wakatoshi was forced to run laps until he could remember the last fifty brands Y/N collaborated with all because Nicollas Romero let it slip out in front of their coach that Ushijima had his girlfriend over.

[writersblockedx]

Winter's Protection: Chapter Two

Pairing - Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader Summary - Your bodyguard takes things a little too far when you're threatened at a party. Warnings - Reader experiences sexual assault, violence, drinking Words - 2.4K

Read Part One Here Masterlist

It was a strange norm to get used to. Coming down to the solider cooking, reading, living a life in your own room - without any invitation. You barely spoke. Odd bickering moments when you begged for privacy, but he always won such with the threat of your father.

But of course, the time came when you were once again invited out for drinks with your friend group. A time when you would usually let loose, leave any kind of security and escape into a free city. Alas, you highly doubt the winter soldier was going to let you go so easy. You did as you always did. Getting ready without even mentioning the fact you were leaving. Maybe then he would let you slip away, maybe.

Though, it hadn't taken him long to realise what was going on when you wandered downstairs with your hair in rollers and your glamour makeup glistening. "You're going out." The soldier observed, taking in your frame for just a moment before he stood from the sofa.

You pulled your handbag over your shoulder as you faced the man, "Is that a problem?" His head shook. He stayed silent; how predictable. "And, let me guess, you're coming with." Another silent nod of recognition that he had heard you.

A sigh fell from your lips as you headed for the door, the soldier trailing behind you. "If you've got to join, will you at least drive me?" You turned to him, uncertain of his response.

He gave no nod or shake of his head. He took a moment, and thought on it, before speaking, "Sure." 

The soldier slipped into the front seat, slowly revealing his metallic hand that was once hidden beneath the safety of his leather glove. You watched him carefully, placing your bag at your feet in the passenger's side. "Where to?" He requested, switching on the engine, barely glancing at you.

"Roxie's." Your eyes followed him cautiously like he couldn't be trusted. The truth was, none of your bodyguards had ever driven you anywhere. Most of them didn't care to do so, some of them too incompetent. "It's downtown area, near the east quater-"

He cut you off, "I know where it is." He answered ever so bluntly.

So you kept your lips shut as he drove, taking all the back roads and shortcuts. You pretended as if you weren't wondering about how the Winter Solider knew where everything was, how he knew the bar you and your friends attended religiously every weekend. Each thought you had seemed tainted with blood. That seemed your only answer as to why the Winter Solider would ever attend anywhere you had been. He didn't have his freedom, he didn't have weekends, he didn't have nights off, he just had orders. Orders to kill. Or, in your position, to protect.

Even to your surprise, he was able to grasp a spot right outside the front doors of the bar. You didn't move until the engine was switched off. From there, you threw open your door, heel grazing the concrete pavement as you grazed over the neon light which seemed ever so inviting at this time of night. You took one step to the right as to join the queue which waited behind a red rope.

And then a firm grip took a hold of your forearm, forcing you to a stop. "No." He stated and guided you towards the front door.

He ignored your resistance. "What are you doing? You can't fight your way in." Your words were hushed but angered nonetheless. "It's fine, I don't-"

Your words became silenced as you faced the security of the bar. "What can we do for you?" One of them asked, obviously irritated at the pair who had stopped her from doing her job of letting in the crowd of customers.

You could only watch as the soldier placed his metallic hand on the woman's shoulder. It wasn't so much of a threat, it was an introduction: he was the Winter Solider. She quickly sucked in a breath and nodded, "Just through this door." She pointed behind her before stepping out of the way for yourself and the Soldier to walk through. 

The two of you slipped into the sea of flashing lights and booming house music. One of which should have helped you ease. Alas, you found yourself in the mix of drunken youth, glaring back at the man. "What the hell was that?" You snapped at him, fury building up within your pupils.

"You wanted to party," He said, nonchalantly. "You're welcome."

You bit your tongue as to not let more anger fall from your lips. You didn't know what might happen if you were to fight back against the Winter Soldier. For now, you were happy not knowing, not testing the limits.

 "Y/n!" Came a booming voice from behind the two. You turned, facing your friend once again, she smiled your way until her lips snuck into a smirk at the sight of the bodyguard once again. She gazed him up and down like she about to bite her bottom lip. If she wasn't your friend, you might rolled your eyes. "See you've brought your bodyguard, once again. What's your name, pretty boy?"

The soldier didn't reponce, barely seemed to even have it in him to look down at the girl. "Where are we sat?" You interjected, sensing the irritation that your bodyguard suddenly extruded. Though, it did have you wandering what the Winter Soldier name truly was, if he even true, if he even cared to remember a past memory.

At such question, your friend interlocked your arm with her own. "This way." She pointed to a back booth where old money kids and inspiring lawyers mingled. Also known as your only group of friends. "Oh, and you should know," Her voice became hushed before she continued, "Ryan's here."

The soldier must have sensed the way your chest tensed at the name drop, before you knew it, he was right at your side. You swallowed, "What-? What do you mean? I thought we all agreed to stop inviting him." You protested against the thought of such a touchy man slivering his way back into your life.

"He sort of just invited himself." She shrugged before tugging you along. "Come on,"

The two of you, with the Solider right behind, wandered up to the booth. It was already littered in empty shot glasses, glitter and vapes. Your friends all invited you in, even Ryan passed you a smile which you didn't return. One of the boys, one which came from a famously wealthy family, smirked at he gazed at the bodyguard. "Whose this? New boyfriend?" The soldier didn't move an itch but you still caught the way Ryan seemed to grit his teeth.

"New bodyguard." You answered, taking the glass of champye which was offered.

One of your other friends scoffed between her red lips, "Thought you were ditching all that?"

You gulped at your drink, "Can't upset Daddy dearest anymore, think he'll throw me in a cell if I run away from any more bodyguards." You explained, intending to leave out the part where said bodyguard was in fact a nortious assian for the taskforce your father ran.

Ryan drew forward towards the soldier, a firm hand landing on his shoulder. A movement of which was returned with a harsh glare. "Well, I hope you no how to have fun." He was silent. You watched carefully, wandering if he was about to snap. A moment passed. Ryan let his hand drop from the shoulder and grazed past your figure. "What great company you've brought us, Pierce." He laughed to himself. "Why don't you entertain me on the dance floor?"

There was a sick tone in his voice that made you want to throw up. "Never happening." You snapped back.

"Really?" Ryan smirked to himself. "I recall you having quite the night last night we danced together."

The memory flooded your brain in blurs. It was still disconnected after the month which had passed, still parts missing, yet the thought of what you did remember made your skin shiver. "I was drunk." You seemed to have to remind him - not that he seemed to care.

"Sure," He replied before returning to seats in the corner of the booth.

What you hadn't realised was that the expressionless soldier, had been listening to every word. He was smart like that. Trained to be an eavesdropping, trained to gather information. He watched as you tugged at your friend's arm, dragging her away from the wanna-be lawyer. "Hey, can we go somewhere else?" You begged.

"Bar?" With your nod, the two of you practically rushed away from your group, towards the back of the bar where you placed an order.

For a second, the solider lingered, his eyes trained on Ryan and then way he seemed to be flirting with every girl sat at the table. When he had enough of watching such, he returned to your side. "I want to punch him." He heard you say.

"I know." Replied the friend before offering you a shot of something alcholic. "Here."

You sucked in a breath, chugging the substance as it burned your throat. "I still want to punch him."

And so, another drink was handed your way. This time, with mixer. "It's a double, don't worry." Your friend assured.

Sipping at your drink, you leant your back against the bar, staring across at the crowded booth. "I can't go back up there."

"Okay, so don't." Your brow raised at her comment. "Come here." She extended a hand out for you to take. When you did, even with reluctance, she dragged you towards the sea of flashing lights and intoxicated customers.

From there, the two of you sipped at your drinks while letting yourself sway to the music. Smiles gracing at your lips, focused on nothing but each other. A while back, the two of you would have been on the hunt for someone to make your night worth wild. Alas, for this night, all you needed was one another. And the solider that still watched from afar, not seeming to dare let his eyes from your body.

But such bliss was short-lived. The booming chatter of voices your recongised soon came into earshot. Your entire group had moved from the booth onto the dance floor, Ryan included. Your eyes glanced to your friend, worry written in your pupils. You preyed he kept his distance. But that wasn't ever in Ryan's nature. For the first couple of songs, he kept his distance. For a second, you even relaxed. Maybe he wasn't about to try anything.

"I'm gonna get another drink!" Your friend yelled over the far to loud music.

Even when you shouted back, "What?" She didn't hear. Before you knew it, she was walking away, leaving you seemingly unprotected.

It didn't take him long. He clocked on to your vulnerability the moment your friend left. And like that, he swooped along side you. "You don't seem to want my company tonight?" Ryan observed, his words whispered against your ear.

"No, I don't." You thought you had made it abundetly clear. Maybe he was just dim-witted, or maybe he thought you we're playing a long game of hard to get. Knowing the size of his ego, you were betting on the latter. 

"That's just too bad." He continued to speak into your ear. As his words left his lips, you suddenly felt the presence of his hand on your hand. You wanted nothing more than to swat it away, but your body seemed to bretay you; you froze in the same way you did whenever you thought of your last night out with the boy.

Your breath hitched. "What are you doing?" Seemed to be the only question you could muster, despite the desperation to yell at him to get his sticky fingers away from your body.

"Nothing." His smirk returned, as did your sudden want to throw up.

Such only worsened when his hand slipped further down. And it kept going. "Ryan don't-"

"What?" He acted smug, like he wasn't making your whole body crumble from the inside out.

When you felt his hand on your arse, you forced yourself to snap out of it. "Ryan." His name said with a stern snap. He didn't stop, we you felt him pinch, you shoved him away from you. "Ryan!"

Even with your words, he wasn't giving in. His smug expression never left his eyes. "What? Come on, I'm just having fun." You wanted to scream, and you wanted to punch him now more than ever. But God forbid a woman make a scene.

You put a firm hand at his chest, pushing him away with enough force that his hands finally let your skin. "Yeah, well I'm not." You snapped back at him. 

You barely had a chance to take another breath before Ryan was suddenly bleeding. A harsh punch to his chin, enough to cause a brusie in the morning. Everyone stopped, staring at the soldier and his metallic hand, now tainted in spots on red. No one had time to do anything before Ryan was thrown onto the floor, alerting the fellow dancers of the scene. Several punches in and more blood casted against Ryan's sickly pale skin.

It wasn't long before a sea of the bar's security crew rushed in. But either their attempts to prey the soldier off were futile. So you found yourself stepping forward, "Stop!" Your hands gripped at his arm, yelling once again, "Stop."

When the soldier raised his hand for the next punch, he slowed. His furious eyes turning to yourself. They seemed to ease. "I'm going." You tugged at him further, a silence instruction that he needed to follow, because they were his orders, not to continue punching some egotistical dick. "Leave him." Suddenly, you felt a rush of power. Oneof which always made you feel sick. Having a human at your will, for whatever you needed, to obey anything you requested. A role you dad had seemed to take on effortlessly in the past.

And so, with the winter solider at your side, you slipped away from the scene. Your body still shaking. Though, you weren't sure if that was at the fault of Ryan's behaviour or watching how easily the Winter Solider could have broken the man in two for you. You wondered what else he had done to men. How easily he seemed to let his hands turn red, dripping with blood. You wondered how you would sleep at night knowing that was the man who now lived alongside you for every breathing moment. 

[robboyblunder]

Because I love making more work for myself I decided to draw my boy flick's entire crew, team "Hell to Pay", an espionage group of rag-tag off-shoot element ghouls from random era mixes going on! If you wanna know more about their roles and such, it's under the read more :)

(also depending on their reception I'll consider making that third ghoul guide about their elements...) (ID in ALT text!)

-Gravitate (Element: gravity(subversion of air)) aka Grav (to some) or Tate (only to friends) {male(He/him), Gay; tall/wide typical wall of meat; handsome in a roughened/scarred way; wears the era 1 mask and cult robes but they’re shortened and tailored for movement} - [Muscle #1: strong bodied, durable, high endurance; slower in speed, but can camouflage]

[About: powerfully strong and level headed, rarely lets things visibly get to him- able to make almost any situation bend to his advantage in some way. Good at clearing heavy issues, and is also into physics; he seems blunt and scary but he’s shy and likes cute things.] ------------

-Frosty aka Os (said like Oz) (Element: ice(subversion of water)) {Nonbinary(She/her and He/him), Lesbian; average height with wide fatter body build; butch; wears the masculine prequelle era mask and outfit with changes for utility} - [Muscle #2 and Healer: Also strong and durable, but agile and has good aim; good at quick decisions]

[About: Loves ice skating, roller blading, or anything that moves fast; adrenaline junkie who also doesn’t get fazed easily and laughs loud and easily while taking on challenges with excitement. She’s trained in combat medicine but also fine motor skill tasks, adept with his hands.] ------------

-Crystalline aka Alli (Element: crystal(subversion of earth)) {female(She/her), Bi; Short with a smaller average build; has the impera era uniform and mask that is decorated by her to be “cuter”} - [Diversion/Support: Able to make incredibly strong shields and structures with sharp projectiles]

[About: incredibly jumpy and anxious, she is constantly swinging on choices but loves to settle in with anything cozy; doesn’t like getting dirty, but will do what it takes and can get extreme when fighting. Introverted except for her favorite people, but friendly to most- she loves crafting and stimming with beads and stickers.] ------------

-Fizzle aka Fizz or Fizzy (Element: plasma(subversion of quintessence)) {Nonbinary(They/any), Unsure of sexuality but likes everyone; on the taller side with a bent back due to habits; lithe skinny; wears the impera uniform and mask but has the era 2 mask tied to the back of their head as well as lots of added pockets, pouches, and a ripped up trench coat} - [Analyst/Co-leader: helps make plans and comes up with unusual ideas/angles- bad at talking though]

[About: technology engineer/chemist who often runs around grunting more than talking leading to them emoting a bit like a cartoon, but loves helping others/butting into whatever they’re doing. A bit hard to read and chaotic yet organized in their own system; any science makes them delighted, as well as cheesy novels and a good pastry. Almost always somewhat burnt.]

[bennyboyfics]

Ben x tennis player!reader and her new physio who Ben doesn’t like because he thinks he’s too flirty with reader and they’re messing around in the players lounge until she injures herself and Ben snaps and becomes protective

Keep you safe || Ben Shelton x tennis player!reader

A/n: tysm for the request xx

Wc: 1,121

Warnings: none!!

MASTERLIST

-

The hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter filled the players’ lounge, a rare pocket of calm between matches and training sessions. You were in the far corner, legs slung over a foam roller, laughing at something your new physio, Leo, said. He was young. Cocky. Smiled too easily, too brightly. And, truthfully, a little too handsy when it came to correcting your form.

“You’re gonna love this one,” Leo said, grinning as he guided your leg into a deep side lunge. “Opens up the hips, fires the glutes.” You rolled your eyes with a smirk, pushing into the stretch. “If I pull a hamstring, I’m blaming you in the press conference.” “Oh, come on,” he laughed. “You’re way too flexible for that. You’ve got bounce. You’re built like a damn panther.”

That earned him a snort of laughter from you. “You’re ridiculous.” He winked. “Just observant.” Unbeknownst to you, Ben had just stepped into the lounge. He spotted you instantly, your smile bright, your laugh echoing—and Leo’s hands a little too close for comfort. Ben’s jaw ticked. That guy again. You didn’t even notice him at first, too caught up in your playful banter.

It wasn’t until you heard the low, familiar drawl—edged with something sharp—that you turned your head. “Careful,” Ben said. He crossed the room with the same cool confidence he had walking onto Centre Court, though his eyes were fixed on Leo now, not you. He stopped a few feet away, that familiar territorial presence rolling off him like heat.

“Wouldn’t want you tearing something messing around like that.” You looked up, surprised. “Ben—hey. Didn’t know you were back already.” “She’s fine,” Leo said, tossing Ben a casual smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’re just working on mobility.” Ben’s eyes narrowed slightly, catching the possessive undertone. He walked forward slowly, the look in his eyes unreadable—but definitely not friendly.

“Yeah?” Ben replied coolly. “Because last time I checked, ‘working on mobility’ didn’t mean messing around like she’s invincible.” You sat up straighter, immediately sensing the brewing storm. “Ben. Relax. He’s just helping.” Ben ignored you, eyes never leaving Leo. “Helping? Because from here, it looks more like flirting than physio.”

“Maybe you should focus on your own training,” Leo shot back, half-laughing like he thought Ben was joking. He wasn’t. “Maybe you should focus on keeping your hands where they’re actually needed,” Ben replied, his voice low and tight. “Okay—” you cut in quickly, trying to defuse. “We’re literally just stretching. Let’s not turn this into a thing.”

But Ben’s chest was rising and falling too fast now, his whole body taut with restraint. “You really think now’s the time to be messing around, after you tweaked your hip last week? You need recovery. Not some dude trying to impress you with glute activations.” You huffed in frustration. “You’re blowing this out of proportion. I’m fine.”

Ben’s eyes flicked down to you. “You’re not fine,” he muttered. “You just act like you are because you hate being told to slow down.” You were annoyed now—half because he was right, half because you refused to admit it—so you stood up abruptly, determined to prove him wrong. “Watch,” you said. “I’ll show you I can handle it.”

Leo hesitated. “Y/n, maybe don’t—” But it was too late. You launched into the lunge, foot planted, knee bent deeply as you reached forward—A white-hot, stabbing pain tore through the back of your thigh. You cried out, collapsing onto one knee with a sharp gasp as your hand flew to your leg. “Ow!”

Leo reached for you instantly, panic in his voice. “Y/n, are you okay?!”But Ben was faster. He was there, practically shoving Leo aside without apology, dropping to his knees in front of you as his hands caught your waist. “Don’t touch her,” Ben snapped at Leo. “Back the hell off.” Leo held his hands up, startled. “Dude, it wasn’t—”

“I said back off.” Ben’s voice was low, but lethal. His arm slid around your waist, steadying you as you winced in pain. “You were just pushing her when she was already near injury,” Ben barked, eyes blazing. “You were too busy trying to be funny to realise she wasn’t warm enough for that stretch.” Leo backed up, flustered. “She wanted to do it.”

Ben turned to him, slowly, like he could barely trust himself to stay calm. “She’s a competitor. Of course she did. That’s why your job is to know better.” You sat there, heart racing, tears prickling the corners of your eyes from the pain and the humiliation of it all. Ben looked back at you instantly, his tone softening like a switch flipped. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

He gently moved your hand away to assess the damage, his thumb brushing the back of your thigh where the muscle had seized. “You pulled it bad, baby,” he murmured. “It’s already swelling.” Carefully, he slipped one arm under your knees, the other around your shoulders, and lifted you off the floor as if you weighed nothing at all. You clung to his shirt, burying your face in his neck.

“If she misses even one tournament over this,” Ben said, not bothering to hide the venom in his voice, “I’ll make sure everyone knows exactly who to blame.” Leo followed a few steps. “I didn’t push her into doing it—” Ben turned on him, eyes blazing.“You didn’t stop her either. You were too busy flirting and playing games when she needed to be protected from herself. That’s your job, isn’t it? Or were you too distracted by how close you could get to her?”

Leo looked taken aback but he said nothing. And then Ben walked away, holding you tightly against his chest, jaw tight, fury simmering just under his skin. In the quiet of the physio room, once the door shut behind you both, Ben gently set you down onto the table, brushing your hair away from your face. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

He shook his head quickly. “Don’t. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” There was a pause. Then, softer: “Maybe just… listen to me next time, yeah?” You nodded, your head resting against his shoulder. He held you closer. You blinked through the sting in your eyes. “You were right.”

Ben cracked a sad little smile. “I usually am. You just don’t listen.” You smirked despite the pain. “Guess you’re stuck with me anyway.” His smile faded into something deeper — more protective, more vulnerable. “I want to be stuck with you,” he said softly. “But only if you let me keep you safe too.” And this time, you nodded.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

2D, Murdoc, Noodle , Russel - Relationship Headcanon

warning : implied drinking&smoking, fluff, hurt/comfort, no use of Y/n, reader is gender neutral

Info : I came back with Cracker Island into the lore and I love the four with all my heart so here have a little something. Have fun reading ;)

~~~~~~~~~~

Murdoc :

°The band founder himself is someone who either disappears after a one night stand or stays with you forever (of course if there's a chance of breakfast and alcohol he'll always stay anyway)

°Even if you don't believe it, he's a great romantic and love maker. Especially intimacy is a way for him to show love when it's not playing his guitar. That this closeness to his body means more to him than it seems he only feels safe with his beloved when you look at his past is a step forward.

°Because his past also haunts him from time to time, especially on bad days when everything seems hopeless, but it is the moments when he appreciates his loved one the most, when he feels the arms around him and the embrace before.

°Private concerts for his partner are a must, no matter if the other three are "forced" into it or not, his sweetheart deserves the best.

°Insists that during the cult time his hot flame is the chosen one. ,,Our Holy Pink Flame!" he had shouted through the street with a megaphone as his favorite walked beside him wrapped in pink.

°But even when he wasn't trying to escape from death, the devil, Bruce Willis or others, he tried to shed this "bad" side, to put away the alcohol, not to smoke and not to be violent, all for his darling.

°In the free time he has besides the band, he also likes to play tennis and dederball with his lover, which he is impressively good at.

~~~~~~~~~~

2-D :

°Roller skate dates are a must on a sunny day or when you are at the beach. He will hold the hand of his bunny the wide smile on his lips nothing but love and joy.

°Zombie movies even though he is always a little scared are somehow his favorite movies and on movie nights when they both have time together he loves to watch them.

°Of course, small private concerts are a must when he has given his heart to someone.

°2-D loves to watch his bunny with a gentle smile on his lips while he puts his love for them into song lyrics. Whether it's just a little insider between you or your whole being 2-D builds it in.

°But besides the lyrics the others casually perform with him, he teaches his heart to play the guitar and piano. Gently guiding his darling and rewarding them with kisses.

°But of course tea time must not be neglected and if his partner is not from England he explains the importance of tea and especially peppermint tea for breakfast.

°But even in the darker moments when he has been beaten by Murdoc, injured again or something else happens to him, he is most grateful that his bunny takes care of him.

°His heart tries to help him with his painkiller problem, stays with him, takes his hand and tries to wrestle through the pain by humming his songs.

°And trips on his motorcycle every now and then to a little cafe or music store just another outing for his love for his heart.

~~~~~~~~~~

Noodle : 

°Noodle energetic, cute and friendly a companion she met at one of her many concerts. Her cherry blossom is everything to her and a way to experience love for the first time, not love for her "family" but love for a single person.

°The guitarist, like the others in the band, insists on giving private concerts. Sometimes together with the other three to show a nice overall picture but also more often alone, the guitar mixes with traditional Japanese sounds and it becomes a special experience.

°Noodle always tried to be cheerful and cheer up her darling when things were not going well. Whether it was playing the guitar, going on a date to dance in one of the many clubs or playing chess. She knows that her partner is there for her when she is not feeling well, especially once a month, but otherwise every day.

°She just loves to ask her cherry blossom and try to teach them to play the guitar. Whether on a children's instrument or her own with the right music and Noodle's gentle instructions and songs she sings along.

°Above all, the relationship between them only grows when they travel to Japan. The country she actually came from and tried to get closer to her inner side there. They immersed themselves in the culture together and had a wonderful time.

°From trying on kimonos, the traditional Kabuki theater or eating mochi on New Year's Day. There was a lot to do together and even more love to share. In a land of endless possibilities, there were always new things to see.

°Especially when they both come back, they make soba noodles, the guitarist's favorite food, for everyone in the kitchen.

°But there are also quiet moments together cuddling and hugging and taking care of the common pet: Noodle's beloved bonsai tree.

~~~~~~~~~~

Russel :

°The band's drummer lost his heart to his cookie when he fell asleep somewhere and was woken up by the very person who stole his heart and drove away his demon.

°It was a meeting in the evening and he was talking about musk, he brought his love home just to get the number and from then on, boom, it just happened.

°A trip to an all you can eat buffet for breakfast followed by a visit to an instrument store and it was the perfect day for him and his partner.

°Because as it turned out, his cookie would love to be able to play an instrument and how could he say no. Which is why he promptly set about teaching his lover to play the drums.

°The two of them practiced together, alked, cuddled, gave each other rewarding kisses and ate cake that they had baked together.

°But even on the not-so-good days, when he thought about his dead friends, the demon or anything else that happened, he loved his sweetheart for always giving him a hug, a hand on his shoulder holding him and saying everything would be okay.

°It was a hold he needed all too often and was happy to get from his cookie, something he especially appreciated. Because no matter when, where or how, they were there for each other and that was what mattered.

°Even together or alone to help Russel, they would try to play ghost hunter and catch the demon. the main thing was that he could sleep peacefully but he usually did that without it when he was cuddling with his sweetheart.

~~~~~~~~~~

[blenselche]

replacing an old insert

Ky AU excerpt this is meant for under the cut

“Shoko?”

She stares back at him, only a few inches away and inspecting his face with narrowed eyes.

“I’m stuck being your guide again,” she surmises. “Subtractional. We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” She blows a sigh out, pushing a hand through her hair. “I should have stayed in the deadworlds.”

Finn snorts, elbowing her. “Well, for what it’s worth I’m glad you didn’t. Is it actually you this time, or- or is this just part of the hallucination?”

“I’ve been dragged out of your subconscious. I’m still with you, after all, as you’ve aged you’ve grown closer to me. You remember my life,” she turns, and they’re back at the gang’s open bathhouse, overgrowth creeping backwards. “Why is that?”

The Plant Teacher metamorphoses into a bath boy, poking at its hair rollers. “Your future is debating removing you from the cycle of reincarnation.”

Shoko looks over her shoulder, quirking a critical brow at him.

“I—“ Finn's hands raise in defense of himself. “Maybe. It was just a stupid thought,” he muffles into his palm as he stares at their feet, uncomfortable and edgy. “Fern is immortal, he doesn’t have to die unless I do, and- and if I don’t die, then…”

“You’re afraid you won’t be able to find yourself in the next life,” she guesses, and he lifts a finger gun to the air without looking up. “You found the Princess, Finn, and we were barely friends. You found our closure, what makes you think you wouldn’t be able to find it again?”

“Maybe I’m tired of finding myself! Maybe I’m tired of going through painful junk and learning the same lessons just to find something good under it all,” his hands raise and slap back down to his sides as he walks in a circle on the concrete platform. “I’ve never- I’ve never been in love in any of my lives, and I finally have that. Why can’t I get off the ride if I have the chance? What if I want us to stay like we are?”

Shoko stops him, dragging him to sit on a cracked step as her life bustles around them in blurry, fluid dreamscapes. Finn watches with tired, drooping eyes as she releases the Ice King from a group of old witch women.

“That’s what life is, Finn. Sometimes we have our arm cut off by our father, sometimes we lose it trying to cling to him. It’s just how the cycle works. You can’t stop it.”

“I want to,” he murmurs, muscle of his jaw jumping. “I’ve finally got some stability.”

“Life is change,” the entity reminds him, lifting a slice of cucumber over its eye. “You cannot cross the stream without getting wet. You are not prone to give yourself to indolence, child, you are always moving, always changing. Do not falter to the soul erosion of a middling existence in vampirism, it is counterintuitive to your purpose.”

Finn groans, chest deflating. “I hate that determinism gunk. I’m not made for anything. I don’t believe in destiny.”

“No, I know you don’t. That does not stop it from being true.” It settles lower in the water, watching him. “You are a very purposeful being, Finn. You, a cosmic force trapped within a man cannot remove yourself from the cycle even if you wish it. You have yet to find your final method of being.”

“Not this comet crap again,” he whines, face tipping to the sky and eyes screwing up tight.

“Yes this comet crap again.” It snaps its fingers and they’re hung in the vast nothingness of space.

Shoko scrambles to grab onto him, terrified. “Finn!?” she screeches. “What’s it talking about?”

He curls an arm around her waist and hefts her higher. “We were put here to commit acts of ‘great good’,” Finn says, tense, “Davey stopped Orgalorg, you released Simon, I defeated the Lich, Penny blasts the cosmic elementals…” he pauses, brain skipping on the realization that he remembers her, “and some day we’ll ascend to the fourth dimension. I refused last time.” He nods with a rigid jerk to the comet, to Martin and the moth. “We’re… some godlike entity. But we forgot.” He swallows dry, throat constricting. “I don’t think about it. It makes me feel like- like my skin is on too tight.”

“You may reject predeterminism, but that does not stop it from affecting you,” the Teacher announces, loud enough to rattle his bones. “I can only help you if you’re open to it. Will you open yourself? Or will you pursue this dead ended, disillusioned passivity borne from the fear of your truth?”

He feels Shoko tremble in his arm, smells the sweet spices they used to use in her hair and sighs out a dejected “okay.” His feet hit the hardwood of the tree house’s kitchen, and he lets Shoko dismount his side, knees shaking and wobbly as she falls back into the dingy cushions of the wrap around sofa.

“That was terrifying,” she chokes with an airy laugh, forehead thunking to the table.

“… our bones are like, six feet away,” he thinks out loud and she shoots him a freaked out glance. “Sorry. Nerves.”

“Are you ready to face yourself, little hero?” It hangs from the ceiling, having taken on Marceline’s form.

A smarmy, weak grin stretches across his expression. “I already am, technically.”

“Don’t be tiresome, the other half of your soul gives me enough trouble.”

Finn snickers unevenly in the face of this unknowable tutelar, at the sensation of bantering with some infinite providence when he’s such a tiny animal.

He nods, and the strings of his being unravel as Shoko keeps hold on the red piece of yarn that connects them, steadying the knot at his center.