#and the present moment I am angry about a variety of things and I am permitted to make essay style art that is also sharpe art. what of it.

[chiropteracupola]

I stretch and strain with all my might Drift off into the velvety arms of the night Kick and claw and scratch and bite... Choked out, choked out, choked out!

[a sharpe, requested by @rubeau]

[icannotgetoverbirds]

buckle up, this one's a doozy

Idk if it's actually a doozy, but this is the story of how I deconverted from a cult and got my egg cracked at approximately the same time, all thanks to... weed.

Let's set the scene, shall we?

It is December 22nd, 2021. The pandemic has been raging for nearly two years at this point. I am, at this point, still a believing mormon. That said, my attendance to church meetings has been incredibly spotty, with the most reliable method to get me to worship being choir practice.

I am laying in my bed in the evening, and of all possible things, I am thinking about weed. Namely, the church's policy about weed, and the absolute failure that is the war on drugs, and my personal belief system (and also about whether or not I should try weed for my anxiety disorder).

What's mormonism's policy on weed, you ask? Well, it's surprisingly liberal for a whole-ass cult, but still has enough nonsense for the events of this story to play out. To put it simply, you can absolutely use weed for medicinal purposes, but recreational purposes is a big no-no.

This, of course, presents a dilemma: where do you draw the line between recreational and medicinal use, especially in the case of, say, using it to medicate an anxiety disorder? I'm sure that the Church-Approved™ conclusion is "That's between you and The Lord, figure it out yourself, good luck!" I don't remember if I came to that conclusion or not, but I know for a fact that my "prove beyond a shadow of a doubt before you make an important decision based off of Feelings Supposedly From God Or The Holy Spirit" ass would not have been satisfied with that answer.

So I think about it in terms of politics, and logic, and science. After all, science is just our frail and minuscule way of comprehending all that Our Father Who Art In Heaven has created, right? So if Our Father Who Art In Heaven can't give me a straight answer, science surely can.

I come to a few conclusions. First of all, there are very few people, if any, who are qualified to draw that line. I am not included in that group of people. Secondly, nobody in their right goddamned mind would so much as try to draw that line unless they have some serious qualifications in the variety of fields that it applies to. Third of all, and this is where shit starts to unravel very fucking quickly: who in the goddamned fuck are a bunch of old white men who've probably never seen a gram of weed in their entire lives to think themselves qualified to draw that line?

The shelf cracks. The prophets are fallible, even in this day and age. Not only are they fallible, but whoever made this decision is a FUCKING DUMBASS. God must be looking down at them and shaking his head disapprovingly, huh?

So I think to myself, yknow what, this is a stupid fucking rule. And my autistic-disregard-for-stupid-fucking-rules-having-ass was not about to tolerate it. So what do I do? Metaphorically speaking, I chuck it out the window. Who cares? I'm gonna do weed for my anxiety, and if anybody tells me that I'm disobeying god, I can tell them that god doesn't fucking give a shit about weed if he's as kind and loving as the prophets say he is.

A moment passes.

Now wait just a goddamned second! If I'm chucking this rule out the window, isn't there something else I should re-examine? If I'm disregarding what the prophets have said for my own pleasure and recreation, isn't there something regarding the lives, livelihoods, and joie de vivre of countless other people, myself included, that I should be looking at?

Suddenly, the years of (pent-up and suppressed) sheer fucking indignation of the way queer people have been othered by the church hits me all at once, full fucking force. I am angry, angrier than I have ever been. Abso-fucking-lutely not. No. If the prophets are wrong about weed, then they're DEFINITELY wrong about queer people.

And in this moment, I make a decision. "Until the mormon leaders get their shit together, I'm out! I'm fucking done! I'm gonna go live it up and get blazed out of my gourd for shits and giggles, and maybe I'll try a tiny sip of beer, and by god I am going to transition-"

"HEY WAIT JUST A GODDAMNED SECOND"

[Plain text ID: Text in a large, bold, italicized red font that reads "HEY WAIT JUST A GODDAMNED SECOND"]

Shelf shattered, omelette made of my egg, life ruined for the better.

The next morning, I come out to my mom and sister. I still believe in god and mormonism and yadda yadda, I just think the leadership needs to get their heads out of their asses.

Not long after, I decide to finally check out exmormon spaces. Yknow, get the full experience.

I am bombarded with "HOLY FUCK IT'S A CULT. IT RUINED MY LIFE. IT RUINED YOUR LIFE. IT TORE MY FAMILY APART. IT'S NOT EVEN REAL. READ THE CES LETTER, CHECK MORMONISM AGAINST THE BITE MODEL. THINK FOR YOUR GODDAMNED SELF FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE."

I check the sources provided. Well, I'll be damned. They weren't kidding, that mormonism sure can cult started by a con man. At this point, I am now beyond the point of no return. There's no going back. I have seen the light. I want out forever, I want my records removed, mom pick me up I'm scared.

My family never looks at me the same way again :>

[rashamarieee]

𝗪𝗛𝗬 𝗜𝗦 𝗜𝗧 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗩𝗜𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 & 𝟰 𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗩𝗜𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗬

Everything that exists is vibration. We all are made of energy. When our vibration increases we feel lighter, positive and happy but when it decreases we end up feeling low, depressed, fearful and insecure.

After all, we all are humans and on a daily basis we experience a variety of emotions. It is absolutely normal to feel sad, angry, low, joyous, happy and so on. But as we raise our vibration, these emotions flow through us easily than getting stuck within, as they generally tend to.

Raising your vibration isn’t about being constantly happy and in a la la land. It’s about attuning to the frequency of the Universe. The way we talk to ourselves and others, and ourselves determines our frequency. Let’s start with ourselves first. Are we rude to the self, feeling guilty, judging ourself, and taking life too seriously? Are we thinking, “I am not good enough, I am fat, I can never do anything right, life sucks.” What if every word we spoke appeared on our skin like a tattoo? How would we communicate then?

Honestly, every word has a vibration and it becomes your reality. The harder you are on yourself, the lower the vibration. The main tool to raise your vibration is to live joyously and find fun in the simplest things. This of course takes most of us back to our childhood where there was no fear of the future or bitterness of the past because we were always living in the present moment and mostly having fun.

𝗦𝗬𝗠𝗣𝗧𝗢𝗠𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗩𝗜𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

You are mostly happy, energised, enthusiastic and optimistic. You start attracting positive people and good things into your life. When an unpleasant situation arises, there is a deeper knowledge that it is for your good and you are protected.

𝗦𝗬𝗠𝗣𝗧𝗢𝗠𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗥 𝗩𝗜𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

You are mostly moody, depressed, lethargic, angry, insecure and fearful. Negative people mostly flock to you. ‘Why me’ attitude. You mostly play the blame game. You constantly judge yourself and often use negative words like “I’m unlucky, life sucks, I don’t like my body etc.”

𝗦𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗟𝗘 𝗧𝗜𝗣𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗩𝗜𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

• 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘦 — is the quickest way to raise your vibration. Be grateful for little things like perfect health, a great meal, family etc. Love and appreciate the self. Love your flaws as much as you love your assets. Stop surrounding yourself with negativity — negative people, news and gossip.

• 𝘕𝘰𝘯-𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 — realise that we all are on this path to learn and accept others with kindness. Let things flow, don’t be a control freak. Use positive speech. Talk to yourself and others with kindness. Stay away from negativities in social media. It is a trap.

Spend more time with yourself, go inwards and give more time to your family. Have fun. Laugh more. Live in the present. Exercise is the mantra for a healthy mind and body. Eat higher vibrational food such as fresh fruits, veggies, nuts, seeds. Stay away from processed, canned, frozen food, meat and sodas. Listen to music. Sound uplifts you and encourages a deeper connection with your highest self. Living in high vibration doesn’t promise end of bad days but it definitely guarantees a better life, making you feel truly one in a million.

𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗗𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗢 𝗔 𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗩𝗜𝗕𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗬?

𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘗𝘌𝘙𝘊𝘌𝘗𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘌𝘟𝘐𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘊𝘌

The first of these to look for is whether or not you believe your understanding of the workings of the world and the fact that you have ascended means you can hold yourself in higher regard than other people who have not yet awaken; if you believe there is any rationale in condescending thoughts toward others, chances are you haven’t yet started awakening yourself, and just that you acknowledge there is a higher form of consciousness which helps us make life better for ourselves and those around us.

𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘗𝘌𝘙𝘊𝘌𝘗𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕 𝘖𝘍 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙𝘚𝘌𝘓𝘍

Second, a significant sign of heightened vibrational frequency which we can notice, is based on our understanding of ourselves and the world in which we exist. If you see life as a bunch of sticks, stones, people, and mundane artifacts, chances are you haven’t awakened to the point of opening your eyes to reality, yet. Conversely, if you look out and see yourself as a spiritual being having a human experience, notice the beauty and light of all life as observed in absolutely everything (yes, even darkness is beautiful), then you’ve likely reached a slightly heightened form of understanding.

𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘗𝘌𝘙𝘊𝘌𝘗𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕 𝘖𝘍 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘗𝘌𝘖𝘗𝘓𝘌

A third teller is how we approach interactions with people, particularly pertaining to learning or teaching opportunities. If we approach interactions with our ego in the forefront and have a driven goal to convince them of our perspectives, or to tell them theirs are wrong, we are likely not yet awakening. This isn’t just because being of a higher conscious understanding means we are less hypocritical or less aggressive (less aggressive energy, maybe…), but the ability to stop projecting our own negativity on others as well as your focus being on your own growth more than theirs. To acknowledge that teaching is teaching and not preaching, so to speak.

𝘚𝘌𝘓𝘍-𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌

The fourth observation I’d like to mention is highly important in acknowledging spiritual growth: you find yourself practicing self-love. To understand that whatever is happening in your life can help you to reach a higher state of understanding and no longer expect yourself to maintain a reputable level of “perfection” while getting upset with yourself for not managing it. To have grown spiritually a person must see the world as it is: beautiful and stunningly imperfect. And you, as part of the world, will never be perfect either. For one to actively practice forgiving oneself, caring for oneself, and with the goal of improving oneself, is a sure sign that ascension and transcending to a higher vibrational frequency is in the process. That is, as long as it isn’t while being condescending.

[5hinee4ever]

Hi guys, it’s me again.

I’m the person who made the “if you don’t support this respect Taemin thing you don’t care about Jonghyun” post last week.

I’ve since deleted the post because I thought it was really harsh and unnecessary and I was using words to get people to see my point, but I was angry.

What I wanted people to take away from that post is that Jonghyun would want us to challenge the K-pop industry and not be complacent with it, and saying “Taemin won’t be promoted because that’s just how the industry is” is complacency, and that if Jonghyun was here he would likely vouch for Taemin to get his year end stage, although I don’t know if the outcome would be any different. Guilty may not even exist. Things would be different if he was here but he isn’t.

It’s more about the fact that some non-Shawols took what happened and made it tragedy p0rn which is 100% not ok. However I see a lot of Shawols in defense to this spreading toxic positivity and almost shutting down people when they say they miss him or whatever, and most people only want to focus on cute and funny moments or his talent and not difficult topics.

We KNOW Taemin has struggles with anxiety and depression whether or not he wants to tell us this. The Taemin hashtags came out a day after I saw Holland’s post about wanting to leave the industry and I was just thinking about how closed-minded, homophobic, and static it is. I don’t know whether or not Taemin is queer himself, but he is definitely the target of some anti-queer ideologies because of how he dresses and presents.

I also genuinely believe that SM doesn’t promote his more “challenging” comebacks like “Guilty” because they don’t want to own up to their own mistakes in how they they failed to protect their young idols from harassment. There are many variety show clips of an underage Taemin being jokingly flirted with or hit on by older men and Jonghyun was the only one who seemed to try to do something. I am NOT saying the others didn’t care, I’m sure they were in an awkward position and didn’t know what to say. Key was laughing awkwardly in some of the clips I don’t think he found it funny, he was just trying to ease social tension or it was a nervous laugh. But I guess my point is a lot of people would be afraid to say something to put their careers at risk but Jonghyun gave the guy a warning.

I guess my point was that that we shouldn’t only remember Jonghyun as an amazing singer and artist and a sweet and funny person but also an activist, and one of the only people in the industry at the time to talk about mental health, LGBTQ, and women’s’ issues. But in addition to all that he was also Taemin’s biggest fan and would 100 vouch for him to have better opportunities in a case like this. I felt that saying Taemin won’t get promoted on these shows and we shouldn’t trend hashtags was disrespectful to both Taemin and Jonghyun.

But saying that “you don’t care about Jonghyun” is wrong. Some of you don’t, some of you who aren’t Shawols and don’t get it, and some of you who claim to be Shawols but miss the damn point all the time, or they only care about keeping an image intact. But I can’t say that everyone who disagrees with my way of helping Taemin is unsupportive or doesn’t care. I know hashtags and screaming into the void can come off as pointless or stupid. But I am autistic and have a very strong internal sense of justice, and I got angry and tried to keep spreading the tags to try to help. It didn’t matter because at that point all shows were scheduled. I also feel so helpless in the general state of the world, going on with my life when people are killed in wars and famine and how society feels like it is crumbling. I took hold of something I thought I could have some sway over and did it.

I want to make a formal apology to anyone I hurt with my words. There is no excuse for saying what I said, even if it may apply to some people, it may also reach others who were hurt.

Taemin just posted on Bubble that Yeonjun “relieved him of his sorrow” according to Google Translate, and someone in my group chat translated it to say basically that Yeonjun fulfilled his desire. So I think we can say Taemin is satisfied with Yeonjun’s performance despite him still probably preferring to do it himself. As a Moa, SHINee and TXT have a lot of mutual respect for each other and this is not the first time I’ve seen our fandoms going head to head, like with the light stick thing back in 2020, which was quite frankly stupid. I’m sure Taemin would have preferred to perform himself but he seems satisfied with Yeonjun’s performance and what’s done is done.

I now want to ask you to PLEASE not harass Yeonjun or Kiss of Life for the performance. If you want to get angry at anyone, you can get angry at SM or Golden Disc, but my “conspiracy” about his promotions isn’t even confirmed. It could be a simple business thing where they got fourth gen idols to get more views. The ship on this has sailed, and I’m seeing people still pissed and trying to trend the hashtags.

You should want him to get better promos and you should want the industry to face some of its glaring issues, like debuting such young minors, which Taemin addressed his own experience in Guilty…SM doesn’t want to talk about Taemin or Krystal or Sulli and the fact that Min Hee Jin is still in the industry says a LOT, it’s not only an SM problem but industry-wide.

But this particular issue is over, and we don’t need to discuss it anymore and start fights about it, since Taemin himself said he was satisfied with Yeonjun’s performance.

I want to add one additional note to the people who said that we were infantilize Taemin or treating him as helpless with these hashtags. I respectfully disagree, and believe that Taemin has and will continue to achieve a lot on his own, but having a strong support network is good for adults too, and fans should help artists achieve their goals especially when they are subverting industry norms. Adults also need strong support networks for their mental health, and I’m sure Jonghyun would vouch for that as well, but that doesn’t excuse my wording. All I wanted to do was be a supportive fan but I ended up attacking others. I feel like I need to apologize to Jonghyun too for using him like this.

So my main takeaways are:

1) we should remember ALL aspects of Jonghyun’s life and not ignore his activism or his support of Taemin and we should honor his memory by supporting positive change in the industry and

2) this specific Taemin issue is over, and harassing others over it who disagree with you is not okay, as well as harassing the idols who did the cover.

I just want to say that I will still have the petition for a world tour in my pinned post, and I want to get as many signatures as possible to show Taemin how much support he has and hopefully have it get back to SM as well for them to see the demand. This is one constructive thing we can do for the future. Also I don’t usually say this, but stream stream stream. I don’t support streaming culture on the whole, but Guilty MV really needs it and the song is so good I’m playing it on repeat anyway.

Again, I’m sorry if I hurt anyone, and I thank you for your patience.

-Riah

[planetsparkreviews]

Planet spark reviews – Student’s reviews

My name is Shivam. It is a pleasure to be giving my PlanetSpark review because they have greatly helped my life and career. I am 23 years old and I work in Hyderabad as an IT services professional.

Entering the corporate world was a difficult thing for me. Before I could land my current jobwas so hard because I was not confident at all. I found it so hard to talk in front of people. It was so bad that one time, during an interview, I almost asked the interviewers not to look at me while I spoke. I didn’t even make it through two questions. I was drenched in sweat and stammered the whole time. It was the company I had always dreamt of working in and I blew my chances. I felt so frustrated that day, and it was not a beautiful sight at all.

The last interview I went for was worse. One of the secretaries in the company called me aside and told me I needed to work on my communication skills because, if I don’t, I may not be able to get a job in the city. She told me there were places where they teach good communication skills and I should try and enroll in one of them. I was shocked because I didn’t know there were special places for that.

Fortunately, I also reconnected with a good friend from when I was in college, who helped me to understand that I needed to stop my self-defeating behaviors. She recommended that I read some PlanetSpark reviews and share my opinions on the matter. to me and it has been a wonderful experience for me since then. I got home that day and searched for them on the internet and saw that they were legit. I went through some of the PlanetSpark reviews and I was so impressed.

However, it wasn't easy to make a decision because I wasn't so sure that it would really help me and my friend's recommendation was the only thing that prompted me to make up my mind The application process was easy and swift. I got it almost immediately and I must say that the materials were well written, accurate and relevant.

I like the fact that I can learn the most important points of the lessons and know precisely where to find them again when I need them. There are plenty of other sites that offer much less interesting materials and that have quite a lot of complicated restrictions, unlike PlanetSpark. I already knew this from the Planet Spark though.  

My overall experience was excellent, and I must say that the lessons were worth my time. My teacher, Miss Yogita, is the most patient and polite woman I’ve ever met. From the moment I met her until this day, she has always spoken with a gentle voice. She is so invested in my success and I have all my improvements to thank her for.

Even though she is older than I am and is my teacher, she treats me with care and respect. She has never yelled or said angry words to me even on days I was slow to understand her. I also learned English grammar in a very entertaining and original way, which is good for my memory. By having me read many paragraphs every day and by having me answer questions about the paragraphs she gave me, she was able to help me improve my vocabulary drastically.

Most of the time, she gives me topics to present on. Sometimes I stood in front of the mirror to practice these presentations. Miss Yugti was very helpful and gave constructive criticism for each lesson. In the first lesson, I had a lot of problems giving my presentation. I felt a lot of anxiety and I was afraid to mess up the presentation. I kept on practicing till I was able to make up for my previous mistakes and give a presentation without any problems.

Joining their debate club has been the highlight of my stay at PlanetSpark. I now feel confident with the English language. PlanetSpark is a very well-rounded school that teaches a variety of subjects. I was able to land my current job a few months after I enrolled in PlanetSpark.

Before the interview started, I was so nervous and scared that I may not make it through like the previous times, but when the interview started and I started talking. Even though I didn’t feel as strong as I wish I was, I felt that I could get through the interview with the help of my previous experience. I was nervous about the technical aspect of the job, but I knew that I could do it since I already knew how to do the job.

I also enjoyed the people aspect of the job more than anything else, but it was just a matter of getting through the interview process. I was happy to excel at the interview and I felt proud of myself. I saw the satisfied looks on their faces and that was the confidence boost I needed. I now also conduct meetings in English and make presentations to the management.

My experience with PlanetSpark has had a significant impact on my life, both personally and professionally. I was able to learn better communication skills with PlanetSpark. I went through a live training for public speaking, and now make presentations to the management and give presentations for my company. I also learned creative writing with PlanetSpark. This has certainly given me an edge over others when I want to write. I wrote so many pieces of creative writing within the year, and now I write for my website. Learning new things with PlanetSpark is quite easy. The trainers are experts in their fields and they aim to make sure that theirstudents benefit from the training they give.

PlanetSpark helps me stay focused and boosts my productivity. It is easy to use and navigate and isvery affordable. If you're looking for a school that can help you learn different skills, I highly recommend PlanetSpark.

[heyhihellowhatsup0]

Hooked On Your Feelings - Chapter One (FWB! Tom Holland x Reader)

Prologue

Warnings: Some angst, language, eventual smut in future chapters, fluff

Word Count: 4155

Summary: After a bad breakup, making an agreement with your womanizing neighbor, Tom to be friends with added benefits and no strings attached seemed like the perfect idea. Until things become messy, emotions caused your agreement to crumble.

A/N:   I have been dying to post more so the day is finally here! I am so happy everyone has given my such amazing and sweet feedback! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Needless to say, this chapter does have smut! DM me to be tagged and I cannot wait to hear everyone’s thoughts! (Also .gif is not mine. DM me for credit please, I found on google!) Thank you xx -N

You woke up the next morning with your head pounding while the sun hit your eyes as you opened them. Turning on your back you let out a sigh once you realized where you were. The same bed you figured you would be in even though you were hoping it was all a dream and what had happened didn’t actually take place. 

Remaining underneath Tom’s dark and satin sheets since you knew you had nothing on, you pivoted your head upward and saw his eyes opened and staring up at the ceiling. Clearly, neither one of you had any idea how to address what the hell happened between the two of you last night and you certainly weren’t going to be the one to initiate.

Tom licked his lips as he adjusted himself from under the covers. Did he really just sleep with you? Sure, he thought about having that moment with you. Countless times, actually. It was no secret you were breathtakingly beautiful and he always had that fantasy about you. But you were always dating that idiot for whatever reason and Tom always thought you were never into him in that way.

None of it was planned, of course. It just happened. One minute, you were both drinking and just simply there next to each other. The next, Tom and you were stumbling into his bedroom. Laughing in between kisses as you removed one another’s clothes and experiencing what was probably some of the best sex he’d ever had. His entire body was vibrating still from how he had felt and he never in a million years would have even thought you were the least bit interested in him like that. Then again, you were both clearly going through some really weird stuff last night.

You were both vulnerable and feeling things you didn’t want to admit to other people but for some reason, Tom was alright with admitting it to you and you both found a way to get rid of the feeling, even if it was temporary. He didn’t want you to regret it, because he sure as hell didn’t. He certainly wasn’t expecting any of that with you but it was a hell of a night and he was far from complaining about it. He was just worried you regretted it.

A lot could be said in your silence with Tom as you lay there, the both of you now staring up at the ceiling and neither of you were speaking. You couldn’t help but feel a little awkward while you tried to figure out what to say. Do you just thank him for the night and leave? Should you just say you had work and grab your clothes or just maybe not say anything at all? The silence was killing you for a variety of reasons and you were still trying to rack your brain trying to figure out why you initiated the first kiss to begin with. You weren��t drunk at all but for some reason you just wanted it. You wanted him. And in that moment last night, you were glad he wanted you too.

Tom cleared his throat, the stillness between you both was causing a rise in his anxiousness, “Well...we had sex last night,” he stated the obvious as plainly as possible. Maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut.

“Yeah,” you answered in an obvious tone. You held back from your laughter as you pushed your hair out of your face, “I should probably go,” you told him as you tried to cover yourself up with the sheets even though you already knew Tom saw you naked last night. There were no more secrets between you both. Clearly.

Tom sat up from the bed and began looking for his sweatpants to throw on before he started to help you find your clothes across the bedroom floor. He handed you your t-shirt as he politely turned away while you changed, “Do you want coffee or something?” he offered, something he would never offer another girl who stayed the night.

Offering any girl any type of breakfast or anything of the sort automatically made them believe Tom wanted them to stay longer. To go out on a date or to get a phone call from him later. Commitment. So he always avoided it and usually had you kick them out if they couldn’t get the hint. But obviously you were different being that you were a friend who he just so happened to sleep with. He was grateful you were there with him and he’d never dismiss you as quickly. He cared about you in the same ways you cared about him. Neighborly love. Who he happened to be attracted to and vice versa.

“Nah, I’m okay. I have some back at my place,” you answered casually as you grabbed your leggings as Tom handed you one of your shoes, “Thanks,” you said to him with a small smile as you tried not to act like you were rushing out of there.

You tried to make yourself presentable as Tom began to walk you out of the bedroom, unsure if he should thank you for the night or not. You turned to him with a sarcastic smile and pointed towards your messy waves, “Wow, I guess this officially makes me a notch on your belt, huh?” you tried to joke to make it less weird between you two.

“For the record, you are not a notch or anything like that, Y/N,” Tom said sternly to make sure you knew that last night was actually a night he didn’t regret at all, “I uh...actually had a pretty good time,” he felt his cheeks tinge a hint of pink as he admitted that to you. Another thing he knew to never say to a girl he brought home. Ever.

Making a face at him, you breathed out a small laugh while you nodded your head in agreement, “Yeah, I did too,” you told him honestly.

The two of you just stood in the kitchen by Tom’s door for a minute. Waiting for the other person to say something but neither of you did. You rocked back and forth on your heels as Tom slid his hands into his pockets, “This isn't weird, is it?” you questioned in a light tone.

“What? No!?” Tom chuckled nervously. He crossed his arms in front of his chest in an attempt to be nonchalant while the elephant of the deed you two had done remained between you both, “Wh-why-why would it be weird?” he stammered.

Leaning in a bit closer towards him, you narrowed your eyes in on Tom, “We had sex,” you whispered as if somebody else was in the room and could overhear your entire conversation.

Tom copied your motion and leaned in in the exact same way, “I don’t think it’s a secret now,” he teased you with a playful smirk, making you laugh as he pulled away. He gave you a nudge against your shoulder, “It’s only weird if we make it weird, right?” he reminded himself.

Lots of friends sleep together and continue to be friends. This was nothing out of the ordinary. Besides, you were more neighborly than friends. So it was a completely different situation than what typical friends had dealt with in the past. Tom was right, you reminded yourself.

“No weirdness on my end,” you told him with a smile as you held out your palm as if you were swearing in a courtroom, “Promise,” you added with a playful wink.

Tom smiled back, leaning forward to get the door for you but you accidentally mistook his gesture for a hug and wrapped your arm around his neck. You cussed under your breath at your embarrassingly stupid moment while you apologized profusely to Tom as he tried to save the awkwardness by giving you a half-assed hug in return. You tried to hide the wincing your eyes were making from the hug but you knew he noticed. Of course he noticed.

Looking down at the floor because you were now too embarrassed to look in his direction, you said your goodbyes as Tom promised to swing by this week with his usual pizza while you began walking faster towards your apartment. But you didn’t want Tom to think you were that flustered by your interactions that you quite literally ran away to hide out. 

You finally got inside your door and realized everything remained untouched since you had kicked Justin out last night. The bottle of wine was still open and sitting on the counter, the television was still on in the living room and there were still a bunch of clothes he had left behind that you needed to desperately get rid of.

Everything in your apartment remained frozen in time while you felt like you jumped lightyears ahead of it from your one night spent with Tom. It was a strange feeling as you walked over to turn the television off but you didn’t feel angry like you had felt last night. You weren’t exactly over the events that took place with Justin but you were on the path to accepting it and you weren’t sure if Tom had something to do with it or not.

There was no denying that you were still hurting from everything. It was still a fresh wound and you had felt so betrayed from it all, you weren’t sure how you would bounce back from it or if you even would. You never dealt with a breakup as ugly as this one so it was a new feeling for you that you were still trying to wrap your head around.

And even though when you were with Tom for the brief time that you were, it felt like it was almost exactly what you needed last night. You didn’t hold back from him and you were comfortable enough around Tom telling him exactly what you needed. Letting your frustrations and anger out on him and Tom letting his feelings out on you led to an explosion between the two of you that surprisingly left you possibly wanting more.

Wanting more from Tom.

Changing into a fresh outfit from last night, you continued to replay the night over and over again in your mind. It was unexpected to say the least, but not in a bad way. Not by any means. If you thought it was bad or awkward, you probably wouldn’t be standing in front of your closet still thinking about the things Tom made you feel.

He made you forget about the drama, if even for one night. But he still managed to make you think that you didn’t need Justin anymore. Maybe you didn’t need anyone right now other than a simple fix here and there to make you feel good. Maybe something without any strings attached was what you needed right now in order to move on and numb your pain for a bit.

You knew Tom was dealing with his own commitment issues and neither one of you were looking for anything complicated. It may not be the best idea in the world to be thinking about something like this but clearly neither one of you knew how to be alone at the moment. You didn’t really want to be fully alone anyway, and you were both comfortable enough with each other where you could be honest about this stuff. Maybe Tom was right, there shouldn’t be any weirdness between you.

Maybe some great sex and not an ounce of attachment was the elixir to the chaos Justin caused for you. No formalities. No planned out, stuffy dates. No mingling with friends and their significant others. No justin. And certainly no types of feelings that would get you in a mess you clearly weren’t looking for right now.

Just good fucking sex. And...it didn’t hurt that your neighbor might be looking for the same type of thing that you were. At least you had hoped.

And when the thoughts and memories and god, downright blissful remembrances of his touch kept invading your mind, just standing there in your apartment thinking about it wasn’t enough. The anxiousness vibrated through your body and you knew what you might be needing from down the hall.

You pulled on a new t-shirt before grabbing your keys. You had never done anything like this before, what if Tom said no? Maybe it should just remain a one time thing between the two of you. Your nerves were attacking you relentlessly as you locked your door, slipping your key ring around your finger and securing it tightly.

But if Tom could do things like this, what was stopping you? The pure rush of anxiety and adrenaline...but it was stupidly guiding you right back to his door. This was insane. Completely stupid. He’d never agree to this. 

Your mind was telling you to turn around and go back home. But that side of you that you never let come out was saying ‘fuck it. Have some fun for once. You’ve been through enough heartbreak and this is something for you.

The safe way got you hurt. More than once. And as you lifted your hand to tap your knuckles against the door, you knew you were done playing it smart. 

Barely getting through the first knock, the door swung open. You let out a yelp as you practically hit Tom in the face while he almost walked right into you. The two of you running into each other as your bodies slightly crashed into one another.

“Oh shit!” Tom exclaimed as he pulled back with an awkward laugh. He ran a hand through his still messy curls, “I was actually on my way to see you,” he admitted, pressing his lips together as he looked at you in the doorframe.  

You reached up and crashed your lips against Tom’s without warning, “Let’s make a deal,” you told him through your hungry kiss as you began to feel Tom start to kiss you back. He moaned into you as he captured your top lip in between his.

“W-what?” Tom mumbled against your lips once again, bringing you inside of his place as he kicked the door shut. He was surprised this was happening so suddenly. Especially since he was just about to be on his way over to your place to ask you for just about the same thing. He knew it didn’t feel right when you left this morning and it was because he wanted to feel this way again. With you. 

“I can still help with your horrible conquests but...in the meantime, we make up for our shit love lives with damn good sex,” you explained while catching your breath from your last kiss. You stood in the living room with Tom’s hands resting on your hips with lust for you in his eyes. 

He pulled back from his embrace with a quirked brow, “You’re serious,” he noted as he smirked at you. He was honestly surprised considering he never saw this side to you. You were always with the same guy for as long as you lived here. It was strange and new to him to see you wanting something that he did.

“No strings attached, of course,” you added. The words sounded ridiculous but you ignored that thought. 

“I...christ, Y/N. I can’t say I haven’t thought about having endless mindblowing sex with you,” he said as his eyes rolled over you. 

“Mindblowing?” you chuckled, “Someone’s cocky,” you teased. 

“Rude. But back to the point...are you sure about this?” Tom got serious. His focus on you as he stepped back to give you some space. He didn’t want to be overbearing or act like he was trying to just get you back in bed. Even though that was basically what he was doing regardless of the situation.

The bottom line was, he had an amazing time with you. And unlike the random girls he brought home, you knew him. There was an understanding between you and him that he knew you got. And he could be open with you by saying he didn’t want anything serious. He wouldn’t need to find a way to get rid of you in the morning. He could distract himself from the nonsense he would think about while ravishing you in the process. It was the perfect idea.

You took a moment. Wondering again if you were just crazy to suggest this. But the way his brown eyes were studying you, it just felt right. 

“I’m sure if you are,” you finally answered. 

Tom was silent but it didn’t take him long to make his mind up. Taking a few steps forward, he picked you up in one swift motion and brought you over towards the couch where you straddled his hips before going in for another kiss. His hand was already slipping underneath your shirt and up your back as he helped you remove it along with his, tossing it towards the empty side of the couch you weren’t using.

Helping you out of your leggings, you found your way back towards Tom’s lap and grinded your hips against him in between your kisses. The cravings you both shared for one another grew wilder as you continued, “We’re really doing this?” you muttered against his lips with another gasp as you helped release him out of his already bulging boxers.

“Think so,” Tom laughed against your skin, trailing his lips down to your neck as he pushed your hair to one side, “Unless you want to stop?” he pulled back for a minute, not wanting to overstep if you were having second thoughts.

Biting your bottom lip, your hand went down to Tom’s hardened length and ran along it. Rubbing the pre-cum seeping from his tip as you watched Tom throw his head back against the couch with a low moan, “Does it look like I want to stop?” you asked him with a playful grin.

“Fuck, Y/N…” Tom hissed as his hands gripped your sides to release some of his frustration. He breathed out a laugh as his fingers went to your clit, beginning to circle you slowly, “Let me give you what you came here for. Hm, darling?” his voice grew raspy as he looked you in the eye, his pupils black the longer he waited.

Your eyes went down towards Tom’s waist, gasping as you watched him begin to tease your entrance with his tip. Cussing under your breath, you grabbed onto his shoulders tightly as you braced yourself for his impact. Tom pressed his hand against the small of your back as he waited for you to let him know it was okay. You nodded your head silently as you gave him an amorous look, “I want you, Tom,” you whispered lowly.

That was all it took before Tom guided himself into you. Going slow as he took his time to let you get used to him while you clenched around him. You lowered yourself deeper as he filled your core up entirely while you began to roll your hips against his slowly, letting out a moan as Tom hissed against your ear while twitching inside of you.

“Mmm, Y/N,” Tom breathed out a moan as he matched his thrusts with yours. His lips parted, moaning against your neck while he pressed open, sloppy kisses against your skin as he continued to rub your clit with his opposite hand, “You feel so fucking wet,” he praised you breathlessly.

“Keep touching me, Tom,” you cried out to him while you started to ride him faster. Even though you and Tom had just started these escapades, you certainly felt comfortable enough to tell him exactly what you wanted to make you feel good. Pressing the pad of his thumb against your swollen bud, your eyes clenched shut while you pushed yourself deeper into him, “Shit! Yes, right there,” you reassured him with another moan.

Guiding you down on his cock, Tom felt his entire body tense as soon as his lips met yours once again. His breaths getting heavy like yours as your name fell from his lips while he watched you bounce up and down on him, making him feel absolutely incredible as you continued to moan in his ear.

You felt your body beginning to tense as you kept going. Everything inside of you was aching for a release and Tom was giving it to you without a doubt. Rocking your hips into him more, you knew you were getting closer to your edge and you could feel Tom about to release as well.

Opening your eyes, you cupped Tom’s face with your palms and gave him one last fiery kiss. Your tongues finding each other wildly and tangled up before you both finally reached your highs together as you whimpered Tom’s name while you finally let go for him.

Tom cussed as he unraveled from beneath you. His body writhing while he watched you bury your face into the crook of his neck, muffling the sound of your moans against him. The vibrations from your sounds set him off further while he continued to reach his bliss, still thrusting into you while you rode out your tremor together.

“Holy….” Tom trailed off with a heavy breath, finally slowing down while his back hit the couch as he tried to pull himself together. He saw you pull your face away from his body, giving him the same exact look that he knew he had on his face, “Umm...yeah, holy fuck?” he laughed.

“That just about covers it,” you agreed as you kissed his cheek with a smile. You pushed Tom’s now damp and sweaty curls out of his face to capture his lips while you brought him closer to you, “So we have a deal?” you confirmed as Tom kissed you back.

Tom chuckled as his hands fell to your sides, his thumb creating small circles against you while he pursed his lips, “You’re really serious about this? No strings? No titles? Just like...just sex?” he clarified, still trying to wrap his head around you asking for this. It felt like a godsend and that it was too good to be true. Why couldn’t more girls be like you?

Tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, Tom’s eyes went from your eyes, to your lips, and back as he sat there admiring you looking this way. You looked so effortlessly beautiful to him and even just as a friend, he was lucky to have you in his life. But now that he had you in other ways, you felt almost intoxicating to him. He couldn’t understand why that piece of garbage cheated on you. Tom had done some shady things to girls in the past and he didn’t see himself in ways others might but he knew he would have never done what that guy did.

You nodded as you turned your head to the side, “Do we have a deal, Tom?” you asked again, raising your eyebrow at him.

“Justin really did a number on you, huh?” Tom teased with a chuckle.

“We’re not talking about him,” you shushed Tom. Pressing your palm against his chest, you gave him a stern expression, “No talk about exes or...your conquests. We do this,” you gestured towards you straddling his legs before looking back at him, “Whenever we...feel like it. I guess,” even you weren’t sure of the rules but you figured you could make them your own anyway.

There was a pause as you quickly felt like you should add more, “We’re friends. Nothing more, nothing less,” you told him, wanting to be clear of at least one title throughout this whole pact the two of you were about to agree to, “Friends who...happen to jump each other’s bones?” you stated despite it sounding like a question.

Tom chuckled at your timid expression. His hands still at your sides as he leaned up and captured your lips again. “Deal.”

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[sweetestlamb]

Mostrami Amore.

Summary: Cha-young tries to move on from a certain mafia boss. 

Author’s Note: Thank for to everyone who sent in prompts for Chayenzo, it resulted in this mess. I don’t have much to say, I considered making this into a multi- chaptered story but honestly I don’t have time for another ongoing story so if this seems rushed it was a little, I wrote it in one go today. Hope you enjoy this, I stuck in some of my favorite crack ship because I am weak and obsessed. Happy reading! 

p.s takes place after final episode but han seo lives because this is my world and I get to play God. 

Another postcard.

Their delivery becomes sporadic and she’s embarrassed at the giddiness that washes over her each time a new square is sent miles across a wide stretch of ocean, the view on the card most likely lackluster in comparison to the true rendering of Malta. She has spent many hours on her laptop searching for images of the small paradisiac island, yearning to see what he sees and feel just a tad bit closer to him. Most of her life has been spent in solitude with only her work acquaintances filling the void at times, so she expected herself to be more equipped to deal with his disappearance and subsequent absence. But nothing prepares her for those moments at the coffee shop, when she finds herself smiling across a table only to realize there is no miniature espresso cup in the hand of a very dangerous Italian Korean mafia member grinning back at her. 

The smile melts off her face and she swallows the bitter cool sludge in her cup, the beverage tasting exactly as he had described it without him there. 

Nights are the hardest, loneliness coils around her like a snake. 

There was never any other fate for them, she knew that when Vincenzo murdered all their enemies this was their only real outcome. He would always be a fugitive on the run and she an accomplice if he were captured and questioned, it was in both of their best interests if he vanished from the face of the planet. But knowing that does nothing to qualm the ever present feeling of isolation that clings to her skin as she sits alone on her couch, downing makgeolli at a vicious pace. Trying to wash his taste from her mouth, that kiss on loop in her mind and the phantom grip of his hand on her neck. 

It’s those treacherous nights without the plaza members that have become a second family to her and Han Seo following her like the lost puppy he is calling her “Noona” so freely and frequently until she forgets her own name, that she allows herself to feel exactly what she’s feelings. 

Heartbroken. 

Desperate. 

Lonely. 

Rage. 

The last one she hides like a dirty secret in the closet of her heart, she knew what she was signing up for. She has no legitimate reason to be angry, or so she tries to reason with herself. But. This was the same man who had bypassed the security of one of the richest men in Korea and ultimately killed him without leaving a trace. She had watched him do despicable things, blackmailing, threatening, seducing, and murdering others as he saw fit and yet, he hadn’t used any of those dastardly ways to see her. That chance meeting at the art gallery had been the last she had seen of him, Then a few weeks later another postcard with the same message she had boldly uttered at the airport, it feels insufficient after having him in her arms again. She knew in that moment that they would never be enough again. She hadn’t even argued when Mr. Nam claimed he would leave this one on his table instead, she merely nodded and walked away to peruse the new sexual assault case she has taken recently. 

It gets harder and harder to hear Han Seo regaling the wonders of his “hyung”,  her anger boiling deep below the surface like magma waiting to explode and transform into something tangible and destructive. 

“He told me that he has a room for me too. I wonder when he’ll let us visit.” 

She nods absently, staring out the window at the sunlight twinkling in through the blinds but then his words register and the gears in her head churn before running the sentence back through to carefully process them. 

“He---what? You spoke to Vincenzo?” 

The human puppy pouts his lips before tilting his head and dealing a hard blow to her ego and her heart, “Yeah, he sends me letters. I got so scared the first time! He said the letter would self-destruct after I read it and I really thought that was true and I dived across the room to escape but I bumped my head on the table and then...” 

He sent Han Seo letters.  

She had received the same fucking postcard for months on end with the same message she had said to him, and he had time to write Han Seo letters. He hadn’t sent her even one in the time he had been gone. 

“That fucking bastard!”  She explodes interrupting Han Seo’s recount of his near death experience and he looks wide- eyed and taken back by her outburst, she almost soothes him before another wave of anger rushes through her veins. She had accepted the bare minimum because she thought this was all he could give her but it seemed she was being too naïve. He was Vincenzo Cassano after all, he could make anything happen. She had seen it with her own two eyes. If he wasn’t reaching out to her maybe that was a message and she was too blind to see it. 

“Noona? Are you okay?” Han Seo looks absolutely terrified, eyes huge and quivering. She doesn’t bother answering, grabbing her cup of lukewarm coffee and stomping out of the office ignoring Mr. Nam’s calls behind her. She’s tired of being an idiot. 

She throws herself into forgetting him, the same way he seems to have forgotten her despite his words to her that fateful night on the stairs. 

I thought about you everyday. 

Actions speak louder than words and she is done accepting his crumbs. She has never needed anyone, had even accepted when her own father wanted nothing to do with her; she has basically been prepping for this moment her entire life. 

So she goes shopping with Miri, buying gadgets that she has no idea how to use but that the other girl makes sound like things that she definitely needs such as a new home security system, her break in still fresh in her mind. She grins at the pretty smile on the other girl’s round face as she explains the specification of the machines around them and she can see why Han Seo has such a huge crush on the girl, the pretty blush that blossoms on the other girl’s cheek after stating the fact out loud is adorable and she pinches said cheek much to her chagrin. 

“You should worry about your own love life.” Miri teases but the words sting like acid on her skin and she turns away to hide the grimace on her face, but she’s not fast enough and the other girl catches her wrist halting her movement. 

“What? What’s wrong? Did something happen to Mr. Cassano?” Miri whispers the last part, looking around to make sure that nobody overhears them. 

She forces herself to stifle her emotions, trapping them in the back of her mind refusing to let him have this kind of affect on her. 

“I wouldn’t know.” She tries for a emotionless tone but even she can hear the bitterness in her own voice and Miri’s eyes fill with pity and it makes her sick to her stomach, “Don’t. I am going to be fine. Let’s just go.” 

They don’t utter single word in the car ride home. 

After that it becomes painfully obvious that everyone in the plaza thinks something is wrong with her and are teaming up to make her feel better. It’s the packed lunches that keep showing up on her desk without fail, her clothes being steamed and pressed for free, the way that they won’t allow her to be alone and there are countless spontaneous family game nights all ending with her drunk and being carried home. 

Tonight Mr. Tak is the unlucky volunteer, dragging her limp body in her father’s house and she thinks of all the times that they drank here together and a certain person was the one hauling her body to bed complaining and grumbling but that distractingly fond smile on his face that he only ever seemed to shoot her way. Her heart thumped loudly as he loomed over her and leaned in close, getting her hopes up only to brush her hair behind her ears and softly tell her, “Go to sleep now,” and she had never been obedient all her teachers could testify to that but when he looked at her like that she was powerless to do anything else but listen. 

“I miss him.” The traitorous words fall from her lips and vanish into the inky darkness of the night. 

A deep sigh from the left of her, “We know.” 

She feels vulnerable, the worst thing about having a weakness is other’s noticing too. She hates how weak she feels. 

“I am going to forget him.” 

The body supporting most of her weight tenses under her arm and she waits for his response, they all love Vincenzo- he had become their unexpected hero and leader in many ways. They would always take his side, she knows that. 

“If that’s what you need to do to be happy. Then, do it. Loving a man like Vincenzo isn’t easy.” 

She turns to look at him in genuine shock. 

“What? You thought I would tell you to keep waiting with no end in sight? You should know by now, you mean a lot to us too. Your happiness is important to us too, we’re a family.” 

“But we’re the Cassano family,” she challenges unable to accept that they could love her without Vincenzo attached, but Mr. Tak shrugs at the clarification, “We can be the Hong Family too.”

She feels her eyes swimming. 

“I should go inside.” 

She feels sober and more awake than ever, she stays up all night twirling the long strands of her hair in between her fingers. 

Thinking. 

Variety is the spice of life. 

She doesn’t know where she’s heard that but it’s those sage words that are the catalyst for her spontaneous decision. 

“Same as always? Silky with some body?” Her stylist peers into her eyes through the wide mirror and she hears herself say, “No I want a cut and some color.” Yu-jin raises one pretty tweezed brow but nods after a moment’s pause, “Okay. How short are you thinking?” 

And that’s how she starts her day with long thick hair that grazes her lower back and ends it with a short bob that tickles her neck. It feels like a weight has been lifted from her shoulder, metaphorically and literally and she loves the face that she sees in the mirror, her eyes looking brighter than they have in months. She feels more alive, like a snake shedding its skin and becoming a newer and fresher version of itself. 

“Your hair?” That becomes the running theme for her day, shocked gaping mouths and hands reaching out for the hair that was once there.  She merely smirks at their palpable surprise, especially Seol-jin who doesn’t recognize her from behind. 

“I haven’t seen a pretty lady like you aro--Oh Ms. Hong! I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you, I am so sorry please excuse me!” The interpretative dancer bolts away leaving her to watch him bemused, she skips to Jipuragi with a pep in her step laughing loudly when Mr. Nam drops his coffee upon seeing her and the brown liquid goes flying and douses him in a sticky hot mess. 

It’s an entertaining day to say the least. 

Moments later when he’s finished cleaning himself up and changing into the cheetah print track suit that he insisted to keeping in the office, he mentions that a new postcard has arrived. She nods at the information, looking at her laptop and it’s only seconds later that she finally looks up and sees that he’s waiting for her response. She doesn’t have one. 

Forcing a tight smile on her face she replies, “Oh that’s great. Just put it with the others.” 

He does. 

But she can feel his eyes on her, his concern heavy and tangible in the air. 

She pretends not to notice and keeps clicking away on her laptop, only glancing over at the card once or twice. But it’s only out of habit. 

Nothing more. 

She starts going on dates with random men. Men she meets in coffee shops, on the streets, in bars, hell one time even the bookstore. She never meets the same man twice and they never get what they want but it does make her feel desirable and that’s all she’s looking for. 

“Where are you going?” Han Seo asks her curiously, Miri by his side as she struts out the plaza new perfume on her skin. 

“On a date. I’ll see you both later.” They both gape at her and can only watch with wide eyes as she sashays away, heels clicking with every step. 

Word spreads like wildfire and no one takes it harder than Mr. An, who calls her a “jezebel” and cries at the front of the law firm for hours, she has to step over him to go get lunch shaking him off when he latches on to her ankles. 

The others just look at her with sad eyes, filled with both understanding and disappointment. 

Much to her surprise the lunch boxes keep coming and her clothes are still pressed and starched to perfection though. 

She also starts taking self defense classes, Korea is much more dangerous than she had first suspected and she has to be able to protect herself because nobody is coming to save her.  Not anymore. 

It becomes a great outlet for her built up anger and her instructor praises her for being a fast learner. She grins and nods before flipping him and twisting his arm around his own neck in a modified sleeper hold. When he taps on her arm she squeezes tighter instead of letting go and he goes limp for a moment before she comes back to herself and releases him hastily with a quick apology, “Sorry!”

He rubs his neck, panting for air and she feels guilty, there's a tinge of that but most of all she feels powerful, more so than she has for a long time. 

It’s crazy but she finds herself asking him for drinks after class and even crazier is that he agrees even with her marks still there on his skin, the area bruised and red. He looks at her like she’s challenge that he wants to conquer, she lets him believe that’s possible. It’s only a bit of fun anyway, she has no plans for anything serious. 

Drinks turn into a drunken cab ride home with his hand on her thigh, hot through the thin material of her tights and they don’t feel right- too small and not rough enough but she’s moving on and she has no time to reminisce. 

There hasn’t even been a postcard lately. Message, loud and clear. 

When she shoves the keys into her door, he’s glued to her body leaving wet kisses on the long column of her neck and she tries to suppress the nausea that swims in her stomach, everything feels wrong and she hates herself for feeling that way. Why shouldn’t she fuck whoever she wants? He is probably doing the same thing, everyday on his beautiful private island. Kissing women that aren’t her and whispering dirty Italian words into their ears as he rocks back and forth, nary a thought of that Korean woman he knew once upon a time. 

Fuck him. 

She rocks back into the purposeful grind of the hips behind her, feeling the hardness that digs into the soft flesh of her ass and finally the door opens and they both tumble in haphazardly and he thrusts a hand under her loose shirt fingering at her breasts before a dark figure moves far too quickly in her peripheral and she hears her date cry out in pain. 

She almost faints at the familiar sight of the one person she never expected to see, the hard glint of his cold eyes as he twists the same hand that had just been fondling her chest. The grip looks painful, the wrist contorted in an unnatural manner. 

“What the fuck? You have a boyfriend?!” Her instructor cries out, voice high pitched falling to his knees as Vincenzo kicks his feet out from under him. 

She rolls her eyes, of course he would come now when she is trying (and failing) to get over him. 

Vindictively she answers the question, ‘No.” 

But that makes Vincenzo twist the wrist in his grip even tighter and she can see the bones breaking so she takes pity on the poor man, he didn’t sign up for a murderous mafia leader after all. 

“Just let him go. You have no right to do any of this.” 

He doesn’t listen right away and absently she wonders if she’ll need to test out her new moves on him, it would be satisfying to deck him square in the face. She dreams of that as often as she dreams of their reunion. Her feelings are...complicated to say the least. 

Then with a grunt, he throws the other man away like he’s trash and growls out, “Get out of here before I kill you.” 

She tries not be get turned on by that. But it’s a hard sell, her body already getting revved up. He’s telling the truth. 

The man wastes no time, jumping to his feet and bolting out the door without one backwards glance. Asshole, he was really just leaving her with a clearly unstable and dangerous man. 

“We need to talk.” Vincenzo squeezes out between clenched teeth, and her blood runs cold but she stares him dead in the eyes tired of this game they’ve been playing, if he’s here to end things she wants to know. 

“Okay. Then talk.” 

She looks insanely beautiful, with her hair cropped so short bringing his eyes to the tantalizing length of her neck. His eyes close in on a spot of moisture on her neck, he feels his blood boiling imagining that bastard touching any part of her.  She’s glaring right back at him, her chest rising and falling and he can’t help but check her out, it’s been months since he saw her in person the photo of her doing aerial yoga above his bed couldn’t compare to the tempest that is Cha-young in real life. 

The flat plane of her belly is on display under the white crop top loosely stretched across her chest which leads down to her slim hips and legs wrapped in white spandex, leaving very little to the imagination not that he hasn’t imagined her in far less many, many times. Too many times to count. Spilling across the silk adorning his king sized bed with only her name on his lips. 

She looks fucking hot. 

That makes it even more frustrating because he can still clearly see that bastard wrapped around her like a snake and his hands going up her shirt---he has to take a deep breath before he breaks something. Or chases that asshole to break his face. 

There’s so much he wants to say to her, so much he owes her. 

I missed you. 

I love you. 

Come with me. 

“Who the hell was that?” He says this instead then watches her eyes glint over into nothing but pure murderous rage. Wrong move. But he couldn’t help it, green eyed raged taking away his decision making abilities. 

“That’s all you have to say? Get out.” 

He wasn’t expecting rose petals and trumpets when he returned but he definitely wasn’t expecting this, her cold glare or another man in his spot. He thought she would wait for him, just as he had done for her. 

“Are you serious right now?” He counters, flabbergasted. 

“Deadly. Get out.” 

He clenches his fist, and then stomps out. Turning back but only to watch the door slam in his face. 

What the hell. 

It had only taken a letter from Han Seo to get him on boat that would take him to an open field and hours later he was soaring through the skies on a hot air balloon, on his way back to Korea. It was insane and he barely had time to explain to his family but Luca nodded at him like this was the only choice and told him that he would take care of everything, and he trusted those words more than he had ever trusted anything in his life.

“Vai a prendere la tua donna( go get your woman).” 

He had nodded, gruffly patting the other man on his shoulder before hopping over into the waiting boat. 

But he wasn’t so certain anymore that Cha-young was his. 

She seems different. Colder almost, she leaves whenever I mention your name and she goes on dates now. I think she’s moving on hyung, what are you going to do? 

Those words had been the scariest thing he had never seen. Scarier than every gun that had ever been pointed at his head. He thought what they had was something special, something that could stand the test of time and distance. He stared at the huge pile of letters on his bedside, all addressed to her. He had written one everyday since they had been separated, but each time he was too much of a coward to send it. In those letters he could say things that he could never say to her face, things like how much he ached without her by his side and how her smile was the only thing that kept him going. In those letters he could regal the ways he loved her, and how deeply she had been branded into his soul, every atom of his body belonged to her and her alone.  He would kill for her, die for her, anything she needed or merely wanted he would provide it, all she needed to do was ask. 

He could only share those feelings in the letters. 

He walks for hours, until he ends up at his old apartment the familiar door greeting him and he sticks his hand in his pocket before he remembers that he gave the key away, with a sigh he starts to walk away before the door creaks open and he hears a voice he hasn’t heard in months. 

“Hyung!” 

A warmth spreads across his back as a solid weight almost knocks him off his feet. He reaches one arm around his body, awkwardly slapping the face that is pressing into his collar. 

“You really chose to stay here.” 

He feels the nod on his shoulder, “Of course. It made me feel closer to you hyung, I missed you.” 

He grunts in response, before turning around and tugging the younger man into a real hug. He had missed the annoying little leech too, he had missed everyone. 

They are still in each other’s embrace for a moment before Han Seo pulls away, sympathy etched deep on his face. 

“She wasn’t happy to see you.” 

“There was someone else there.” He hates the words even as they leave his mouth and Han Seo winces, looking pained for him before tugging him into the small apartment. Everything is just like he left it.  He looks around in awe. 

“I’m sorry hyung. What are you going to do?”

That’s the golden question, he pondered it all the way here and he’s no closer to knowing the answer to that. Usually she is the one that makes the move, she has always been the brave one between them. He back steps and says things he doesn’t mean and she sees through him and smashes down all his walls. That’s how this has always worked. 

“I don’t know. Maybe I should just leave her alone. Let her be happy.” 

A loud scoff reaches his ears, “Sure. Is that why you sailed across sharked infested waters and trusted a hot air balloon company run my former thugs?”

He smarts at the sarcastic reply and glares before flicking the cheeky brat on his nose, "I liked you better when you were stupid you know. Now you're a little smart ass."

The younger man looks even more youthful as he grins back at him, rubbing at his nose before shrugging.  "I learned from the best."

He has no rebuttal for that so he tries to flick him again, giving chase when he darts off.

It feels good to be home.

He warns Han Seo not to tell anyone that he's here least they give away his location.

So he's not surprised the next day to find the cavalry at his doorstep hands filled to the brim with containers of food. There are tears, mostly from Mr. Nam who won't stop screaming his name and pinching his cheeks to see if he's real and Mr. An who wraps around him like a koala despite his very detailed threats. It's all chaos and so familiar that his heart aches but her absence is like a hole in his chest. Nobody mentions her but they all keep looking at the door, so it's obvious that she was invited but chose not to come.

Because she didn't want to see him.

"You're here to win her back right?" He doesn't know who even utters the words but when he glances up they are all looking at him expectantly.

He didn't know that was what he was indeed here for thought that she would happily welcome him back and they could pick up where they left off but she's made it clear that this won't be the case. This will be the most important fight of his life.

"Yes. I'm here for Cha-young."

He gets enthusiastic thumbs up and a loud giggle from the Yeon-Jin  and Cheol-Wook’s adorable baby, her little hands too uncoordinated to do a thumbs up but she waves excitedly  feeding off the energy around her.

He wonders how Cha-young would look with a baby in her arms, their baby it's a dangerous thought. But one that he can't get out of his mind once he thinks it.

They stay until midnight, forcing him to eat and drink too much soju until he passes out to dreams filled with a round Cha-young, belly swollen and protruding from her body. 

It doesn't take much to learn her schedule(Mr. Nam hands him a laminated copy) and he has to put on a disguise but he enters the shop seconds after her, hearing her order that god awful sewer water she's so fond of.

"An espresso for me." He leans in too close, almost brushing her shoulder and she jolts at the sound of his voice, turning to stare at him as if she's a mirage.

"You're still here?" She whispers and then shakes her head and looks away as if she's hadn't meant to say the words aloud.

It hurts him that she thought he would leave without telling her but he can't blame her, he has been anything but consistent. Instead of answering, he leans forward to hand his credit card to the cashier who glances between them suspiciously before accepting the card.

Their orders are ready in seconds and he follows her as she walks to their table, butterflies in his stomach at the familiar sight.

She turns to him with a glare, "It's just the only available table."

He moves to pull out her chair and she starts at him tight lipped before sitting down. She's in a tight black suit today, two long slits on the side of her pants going all the way up to her thighs. He gulps down his drink to get rid of the drool pooling in his mouth.

"You're upset with me."

She stares at him like he's the biggest idiot on the planet, it's not a look he receives often but she's always the outlier in his otherwise organized life.

"Astute observation." She quips back, sucking loudly at her coffee.

"Why?"

He considered how to go about breeching this subject and in the end had decided on going straight to the source, he had been under the impression that this was working for them.

Her face morphs into a person he hasn't seen for a long time, the Cha-young that would berate him and make him angry enough to curse in Italian.

"Do you think this little of me?"

He's completely lost, "What do you mean? What did I do that was so wrong? Wrong enough for you to cheat on me!" He's panting now, his voice has gotten loud enough to catch people's attention he can feel them watching their table, nosy and invested.

"Cheat on you?"

Cold as ice, her voice is. It almost makes him shiver.

"How could I possibly cheat on you? We're not together. You send me the same postcard with the same message every few months. I have no idea what you're doing in Malta, who you're with. You can't even be bothered to send me a letter, do you think this is a relationship? You think it's enough to pop up like this every once in a blue moon? You've told me nothing about how you feel about me but I'm supposed to be satisfied with whatever you throw my way?"

If he wasn't sitting down his legs would have already given out he's certain about that. Her voice is deadly quiet each word landing and chipping away at his confidence.

"I'm doing the best I can! You knew it would be like this after everything was over, why are you blaming me now? How about you, I don't know how you feel either!"

"I love you! Anyone with eyes can see that, I told you that at the airport too. And again when I took a bullet for you, you didn't think that meant I loved you? I was willing to die for you."

Shit.

It's not at all how he expected them to confess their love for each other, it's hard to believe the words that are coming out of her mouth as she bares her teeth at him.

"So why are you doing this? Why are there other men?"

Why aren't I enough? He wants to say but he's scared of her answer, terrified that she'll say that she can't do this anymore. That he just isn’t enough anymore. 

She stares at him long and hard.

Waiting for something. But he doesn't know what.

"You haven't changed at all. You're still a coward, I'm not interested in guessing anymore. I’m done playing this game.” 

She stands up and walks away, leaving her unfinished coffee on the table.

Unwanted just like him.

She doesn't see him for days and she accepts that her words had done their damage, she had cried until she fell asleep that night. Waking up with swollen red eyes that no amount of concealer would save but thankfully no one commented on her state.

She goes through her day on autopilot and before she knows it she's back home, ready to face her night alone  again. She pushes the door open, half praying he'll be waiting for her but her hopes shattered when she turns on the lights and finds no one.

"It's better this way." She lies to herself, pouring herself an obscene glass of soju. She's going to need plenty of alcohol to get through this pain.

Her head is woozy and heavy when she hears a sound, suddenly alert she stills in her chair before rushing over to get a frying pan walking on the tips of her toes she prowls closer to the clicking sound, finding herself at the window peering at a long lost friend. Placing the frying pan on her window sill she pry opens the window, screeching when the audacious bird flies inside landing on her table as if he belongs there.

"Hey Inzaghi! Get your dirty bird feet off my table!"

He looks at her nonchalantly, making himself comfortable on said table and she sighs before shutting the window and drunkenly swaying over to him.

"What are you even doing there? Do you want to be my bird now, I won't be a very good owner. I won't remember to feed you. I barely remember to feed myself."

Despite being a bird he finds a way to roll his eyes at her before standing up and only then does she notice something on his leg. She looks at him cautiously before moving closer and untying the paper on his leg, the pigeon barely reacts before flying over to her couch. She sighs in annoyance, she's going to have to clean everything after this bird leaves.

She unwinds the string holding the paper together, unrolling the paper scroll. There is a message written inside: the rooftop. 9 pm.

Glancing at her clock the time shines at her.

7:34pm.

"This could be a trap."

It very much could be, she has enemies now. It was a small price to pay for taking down Babel but she's always looking over her shoulders now, so this note could easily be someone luring her to hurt her or get back at Vincenzo.

Inzaghi coos loudly at her as if he can hear her thoughts. This time he finds a way to look exasperated.

She stumbles off to her room.

She needs time to think.

"So she told you that she loved you and you didn't say it back?"

"I was shocked. She was growling at me and looked ready to kill me at the same time." He reasons back, trying to show his hyung his point of view. The younger man doesn't look even a little bit convinced by his logic.

"Okay and? That sounds perfectly normal for you too. You should have shot someone and wrote it back in their blood on the table."

He recoils in disgust at the suggestion, "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you actually insane, why the fuck would I do that?"

Han Seo stares deadpan in return.

He puts up a hand trying to stop whatever response he has, "Don't say it."

It doesn't work.

"Pig's blood. Don't forget I saw it all, I've never seen Ms. Hong look so excited before. You're both crazy."

Well, that had been different. It was an old tradition, she simply had an appreciation for the classics.

"And I bet you're defending her right now in your mind. Noona is just like you, that's why you're made for each other. She's the gasoline to your fire."

"You know that would just make an even larger fire right?"

"Yes. I'm smart now remember? I know what I said."

He sighs falling into the comfortable familiarity of the couch, a spring digging into his thigh.

"Why didn't you say it back?" His stills at the barely whispered question, his chest constricting as he recalls the passionate confession. He had frozen, like he'd always known she was the brave one between them. Always doing the unexpected and the time was no different, her words had knocked him off his feet.

"Because I was scared."

Han Seo huffs at his honesty. He doesn't know where the words are coming from but he's tired of keeping it all in.

"Because if anything happens to her it'll break me, I thought it would be better if I kept her at a distance. I thought this was enough. I thought this would be easier. When I think about her I want to drop everything and just be with her and that...was too dangerous. I had to keep my distance."

There's a pregnant pause, just the sound of their breathing filling the void.

"Was it?"

"What?"

"Easier. Is this better? Enough?"

He thinks about Cha-young getting married to a faceless man, exchanging vows and sealing it with a kiss, happy and in love on their honeymoon wanton moans and screams from their room, learning that they're having a baby and her round and glowing with someone else's child smiling brightly as she rubs her belly and it's too much. He wants to smash it all into little pieces.

"No. It's not enough. I need her, without her nothing is enough."

"That's what you should have said to her. Don't glare at me I'm right, but I have an idea. I saw it in an American cartoon."

And that's how he lets his younger brother convince him to send a note to Cha-young using Inzaghi, the pigeon had shown up one night and he'd been so happy he almost kissed the bird.

"How will he know where Cha Young lives?" He asks skeptical even as he ties the note to the birds leg.

"I showed him a picture of her house. According to the cartoon, birds just know.” 

He stares at the younger man, wondering why he's listening to this ridiculous plan.

"This is stupid. I should just text her, Inzaghi is never going to deliver this. He's just a regular pigeon." 

"This is more romantic." He answers matter of fact.

"How is a pigeon delivering a message in anyway romantic?" He challenges already knowing from the shit eating grin he won’t like the response. 

"The same way pig blood was." The brat counters and he doesn't get a chance to respond before Han Seo picks Inzaghi up and throws him out the window, "In the name of love!" He only barely stops himself from bashing his head into the wall, the younger man has to wrestle him to the ground.

It's stupid. They did all of this for nothing the cool breeze makes him pull his coat tighter around his body, exposed to the weather on the open space of the rooftop.

He checks his watch, 9:48.

She's not coming and the worst part is that he doesn't know if it's because that damn bird never delivered his message or if it's because she really doesn't want anything to do with him. The burden of not knowing hurts more than anything.

Expelling the air in his lungs he walks back to the single door that leads off the roof, twisting the doorknob in his hand and pulling it open.

Meeting the shocked face of one Cha-young.

They both just stare at each other before he speaks, "You came."

He can't believe it. Inzaghi had actually delivered the note, somehow the pigeon had found her house and she was here. He almost pinches himself to see if he'd passed out on the roof and this was just a dream.

"I didn't know Inzaghi was a carrier pigeon." She futilely tries to change the subject and he takes a step back, gathering the tattered pieces of his courage. The same courage that had propelled him to kiss her all those months ago on the stairs.

"I'm so happy you're here. I waited for you."

She stares at him like he has two heads before blushing, and avoiding his eyes.

"Come with me." He extends his hands and tries not to be too hurt when she bypasses it and steps around him instead.

At least she was here.

With a quick swipe of his hand he sends the message to his accomplices.

Now.

The lights come on, fairy lights decorating the roof top in a heavenly glow. She spins around in wonder, eyes nearly as bright she's so beautiful it's almost painful to look at her.

Then the music starts.

The soft notes filling the space.

When I walk down a road I don't know well....

She looks around in wonder, staring back at him she can’t believe what’s happening. 

Then the letters start falling from the sky, all the letters he had written to her alone and missing her thousands of miles away. His plaza family smiles down at him, throwing letters from a higher building.

Cha-young stares up at the sky in surprise, hundreds of letters landing all around her.

It had taken a few days for Luca to send them all over and then another day to get the guts to do this, there was no turning back now. He had never willingly made himself vulnerable to anyone else, but according to Han Seo it was the only way he was going to win her back. 

“She just wants to know that you love her too. Show her.” 

He watches anxiously as she picks up a letter, stroking lightly at her own name on the front looking at him with stunned wet eyes. 

“You wrote me a letter.” Her voice is revere and awe that he doesn’t deserve, not after everything he has put her through in the sake of protecting himself but he’s too elated to see her looking at him like that again, like he’s someone important to her. 

“182. For each day we were apart. I told you I thought about you everyday, and every time I did I wrote you a letter.” 

She stares at the letter in her hand, gently ripping it open and devouring the words on the page. Nerves shoot up and down his body as he watches her read his most private thoughts about her, her expressive face for once empty of emotions as she silently reads the letter. 

He waits. 

Breathless and terrified. 

“Why didn’t you ever send them? They were mine so why did you keep them?” He hears an edge in her voice that makes him wonder if she’s only talking about the letters. 

“Cha-young, I don’t think you understand.” 

She breathes out loudly, stomping over to him until they are inches apart and he has no choice but to look into the deep pool of her eyes. 

“I don’t! I don’t understand anything, I thought you had found someone else in Malta and the postcards were just your way of being nice. I thought you didn’t feel the same way I did, you were sending Han Seo letters but you wouldn’t do the same for me. What was I supposed to think? Why didn’t you try to help me understand, you were gone for six months!” 

There’s so much wrong with everything she said, how could he find anyone else when his heart beats for her? How could he forget her when everything he did reminded him of her, he saw her every night in his dreams. But he doesn’t make the same mistake this time, he says what’s important. 

“I feel the same way. I love you Cha-young. I thought this was better for you, that this could be enough. But I was wrong, I missed you every minute of every--” 

“Come home with me.” 

He stops, stares, gapes and then stares some more. 

“What? I wasn’t finished confessing though.” Actually offended that she interrupted his planned speech. He was about to recite one of his favorite Italian love poems for her and then ask her to dance. 

She rolls her eyes dragging him towards the door, “Don’t you think we’ve wasted enough time? It’s been six months and you have been here for too long, you have to go soon.” 

She’s right, he has a flight in two days for an identity he borrowed for his escape. 

“Listen to her, just go back to her place and have a good night!” That sounds like Cheol-Wook and then they all erupt into applause and start cheering and hollering, chanting their names and then to his embarrassment they start chanting, “Go have sex! Go have sex!” complete with the monks banging on their drums and he doesn’t think he will ever live down this moment, especially when he sees Miri capturing it on the new video camera he had gifted her. 

He flips them off as an eager Cha-young pulls him away their laughter following them all the way. 

The car ride is too long on the way over and she wonders how quickly she can undress them both as soon as they reach, there is simply no time to waste. 

But once they get to the doorstep he suddenly freezes, tugging her backwards into his chest. 

“This looks familiar doesn’t it?” His voice is dark and smoky and she immediately knows what he’s referring to, and she refuses to give him any reaction. 

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” 

“You let someone else touch you. Here.” He runs a hand up her neck, briefly squeezing, “And here,” she gasps at his hands suddenly on her breast, squeezing harshly at the tender flesh. 

“So what are you going to do about it?” She knows that she’s playing with fire, but that is their foundation. She has never aimed to cool him off or tone him down, she sees the dark side inside of him and loves it, encourages it and feeds on it herself allowing it to bring her darkness out too. 

He kicks the door open, shoving her side and she delights at the rough treatment. She hopes that she is filled with his bruises tomorrow. 

She doesn’t wait for his next move, pulling her shirt up and over her head before tugging off her skirt leaving herself in a barely there lace panties and a matching lace bra that is translucent, her nipples peeking through the sheer material. He stares at her transfixed, his hunger evident in his eyes and in the tent forming in his tight dress pants. 

“Take those off.” She commands and he smirks before obeying, peeling the pants off his thighs standing in his button down shirt and tight boxer briefs that leave nothing to her imagination, every delicious inch of him visible. She steps forward bringing their bodies in contact, before thrusting her hand inside the opening of his briefs. He feels hard and smooth, liquid pooling at the tip and she twists her hand collecting it to ease her slow strokes up and down. His voice hitches as she fingers his balls and without warning she tugs his boxers off, leaving him bare to her eyes. 

Mesmerized by the unencumbered sight of him, she drops to her knees using her hand to guide him to her eagerly waiting mouth. 

His flavor explodes on her tongue and she swallows more, grabbing his hips to drag him deeper into her mouth until she can feel him in her throat, but even after her eyes start to burn and she feels herself choking she doesn’t stop, bobbing up and down hungrily, sloppy wet sounds filling the room in a filthy symphony. At first he lets her control the movement, pliant in her hands but as she increases her speed and suction he starts groaning and huffing loudly and then she feels his hand on the back of her hand, keeping her in place and when she looks up at him he looks wrecked. Eyes dazed and his face red and flushed, she ingrains that image in her mind, for when he’s gone and all she has are her toys. 

She stares back defiantly before he draws himself out of her mouth, a single line of spit connecting them and then he thrusts back into her mouth roughly and she opens her mouth wider to accept the abuse, loving every second of it even as a her throat aches. He sets a frantic pace, his balls slamming against her chin and she doesn’t realize at first that his grunts have transformed into words, too much blood rushing to her head. 

“Mine. Mine, nobody can---ah fuck! Nobody can see you like this. Only me. You’re mine.” 

He fucks her mouth like it’s his to use and do what he pleases, and she’s wetter than she’s ever been listening to him claim her verbally and with the wet push of his dick in her mouth. 

She starts grinding on the floor like a cat in heat and without preamble he grabs her under her armpits and lifts her like she weighs nothing, his dick sliding free from her hot mouth, “I want to make you scream.” He says this like a declaration of love and she throws herself at him, kissing the words off his lips. His tongue swirls in her mouth and she wonders if he can taste himself in her. It makes her hotter and she grinds her barely covered pussy onto his naked length, groaning at the friction even though the thin layer separating them. 

He tosses her onto the bed and she doesn’t even remember them walking, his tongue and his wondering fingers had completely distracted her. 

She lays sprawled across the bed as he stares at her, like she’s feast he can’t wait to devour. 

“Nobody has been in here.” She doesn’t know if he’s asking a question or making a statement, but she feels that his jealousy is real. Seeing her with someone else had done something to him, guilt washes over her. If she had seen him with someone else she would have lost her mind too. 

“Nobody. I never brought anyone home before, that guy was a mistake. I was just hurt and missing you. I’m sorry.” 

He had abandoned her for six months and she didn’t owe him anything but his pain is her pain and they are stronger now, everything has been said. 

“Good.” 

Then he rips her panties away and buries his face between her legs, prying her wide open with his hands and lapping at her with his searing hot tongue. Immediately he has his wish and she screams, loud enough to fill the entire room. 

“Already screaming amore? It’s going to be a long night, I want to make you hoarse.”  

She doesn’t get a moment to respond before he’s back to licking and sucking at her most sacred part, fingers deep inside her as he thrusts and strokes alongside his tongue, his fingers and tongue moving in tandem and she tries to stifle the scream but a particularly deep fuck makes the sound erupt from her throat and her head feels dizzy from the overwhelming sensation. 

He has boundless energy it seems, as time drags by and she feels her body tightening up as he systemically destroys her, he never takes a break or pauses, slurping up all the liquid that drips from her and the sounds of him swallowing are beyond erotic. When a hand runs up her stomach and squeezes at a bouncing breast she can’t contain her moans of pleasure, crying out as his fingers pinching the tight bud of her nipple. 

“Please.” 

He coos in her, “So pretty when you beg.” Then he sticks his tongue as far as it can go and she hears the rush of blood in her head as her body shakes apart and her release gushes from her body, twitching when he laps it all up her oversensitive body recoiling from the overstimulation. 

She has never come like that before, most men have never put in the work necessary to make her come and she wasn’t one to fake it so her experiences with sex with someone else were few and far in between. 

This feels like nirvana. 

“You still with me amore?” The bastard looks so smug, looming above her naked arms on the side of her head, and she had no idea when he took his shirt off. 

“I can’t feel like my legs.” 

He chuckles loudly at the statement, grinning growing wider. 

“Well I can assure you that they’re still there and they will look great wrapped around my waist.” 

Raising to his challenge, although her body is still buzzing she wraps her legs around his waist, they feel like jelly but she finds the strength to follow through with her movement. 

“I was right they do look great.” 

“Well this would look great in me.” She counters, grabbing at his thick ruddy red dick jutting from his body and he rocks into her hand before knocking her hand away and taking himself in his hand. 

“Do we need a condom?” He asks her, looking like he is ready to stop at nay minute if she tells him that they do. 

“No.” 

She has been on birth control since she was a teen and there’s been no one for her since she met him, and she trusts that it’s been the same for him. 

“Thank goodness, I want to feel everything.” He barely finishes his sentence before he’s easing into her, slow and steady. She lets him continue for a moment before she tightens her legs around his waist and pulls him in roughly, as deep as she can get him in this position. “Fuck, you’re so impatient.” 

“Shut up and fuck me already.” 

He grumbles at her calling her bossy, but she sighs when he draws out and slams back in with a quick snap of his hips. 

“Yes just like that!” 

He takes direction very well, repeating the motion until the bed starts to creak from their movements, he pistons in and out of her gone all semblance of gentle or slow, they have teetered into a speed that can only be defined as “break neck” and she feels her body sliding up the mattress as he pounds into her over and over again, she latches onto his neck eager to leave a branding mark on him and he groans at the suction, grinding harder into her and gripping her ass to force her to meet his vicious thrusts. 

Absently she feels him peeling her bra from her body, the only remaining item of clothing that has survived their coupling and she knows exactly when he sees the scar. The grotesque knitting of skin that had left a permanent scar on her shoulder, she almost covers it up but when she peels her eyes open he is staring at her mesmerized. 

“Don’t look.” 

He leans down to kiss it, the softest more precious kiss she has ever received in her life. 

He peppers more kisses all over, then strokes at it with a single finger. 

“I should have realized, this was your confession. I was an idiot. I will never be that stupid again, I love you so much. I would do anything for you. Anything.” 

He puts her legs on her shoulder, nearly bending her in half before resuming his thrusts but they are less frenzied now, it feels like lovemaking. Her eyes prickle when he kisses her scar with every downward thrust, whispering, “Beautiful, so beautiful. Every inch of you.” 

She cries out. 

With every thrust he kisses her scar, making her feel lightheaded and naked. 

When he moves them into a new position, her back to his front giving him better access to her scar, she loses herself as he whispers sweet nothings into her ears and litters the spot with warm kisses. 

She falls off the edge with his lips on her scar and him deep inside her, warm bursts filling her up before leaking out onto the bed sheets. 

“Today’s our last day.” 

Waking up next to him is torture, she tries not to ingrain that in her mind but it’s too late it’s already there. He blinks away the sleep in his eyes at her words and then nods solemnly in agreement. 

“Yes for this visit. But I’ll always come back for you.” 

She smiles brightly, “Don’t keep me waiting for too long.” 

They don’t leave the bed except to get breakfast and that ends with her laid across the kitchen table getting taken from behind after teasing him. He can’t seem to keep his hands off her new hair, twisting the short strands in his hands and yanking on them. She catches him looking at her heatedly more than once. 

Then they wind up in the shower, trying to clean up and getting dirtier instead, his hands tight in her hair and around her waist as he hoists her up to pound her into the wall. Making up for lost time. 

They get messages from their entire family, Vincenzo showing her a message from Han Seo asking if he’s going to be an uncle soon. She promises to embarrass him in front of Miri very, very soon. 

Both pretend they don’t feel the day fading away, bringing them closer to their goodbye. 

Tomorrow he will be gone again, but there’s no guessing now. She knows what she means to him now and that’s more than enough. 

She wakes up to an empty bed and a ticket to Malta, the ball is in her court. 

[reiven2017]

Happy birthday to you.

His son was a professional killer, Robin, the grandson of a bloodthirsty psychopath, and an insufferable child. Damian could have been expected to do anything and more, but when he approached Nim, his expression more somber than before, and quickly asked what seemed like a simple question, Bruce fell into a stupor.

Bruce was busy working in his office, completely focused on the documents and didn't even hear the door to his office open. He glanced briefly over the top of his glasses before returning to his work. "I'm listening, Damian. "it's been a few minutes. Damian wasn't happy about the idea of asking Bruce for help, but he wasn't going to listen to Dick's taunts, and Alfred, with his stiffly English manner, wasn't the right person to turn to with this question, so he didn't have many options. Wayne finally asked.

Bruce stopped writing, raised his head, and looked at his son with a strange expression on his face.

"Did he hear correctly?»

-" Damian?" - "What? I didn't think I asked anything so weird. " The boy said irritably, frowning and watching intently. "No, I said. Of course not. Just...why would you do that? " He could see his son pondering the answer for a moment, unsure whether to trust Bruce. - "You need to. "Damian's voice was cold, and there was an impenetrable mask on his face, and the man realized that he would not get a more detailed answer from him. — "So, what do you usually get for your birthday? "The boy repeated the question more impatiently. Despite his cold tone and stony expression, the slightest bit of nervousness in his demeanor was conspicuous. "Usually?" Bruce looked thoughtful. —" It depends on who exactly you are giving to, a woman or a man, and what else this person loves or is interested in. Probably the most common gifts are books or some useful things." Bruce continued to watch his son, finding his behavior strange, to say the least. Damian was still a rather obnoxious and sullen child, he had no friends and it didn't seem to bother him much, but his son never did anything for nothing, so there was something to worry about. He could see the gears turning in Damian's head as he pondered Bruce's words. It was several minutes before he seemed satisfied with the answer, and with a curt nod to his father, Damian left.

A week had passed since that incomprehensible conversation between him and Damian, and Bruce was still wondering why his son needed this information. Just as he was beginning to forget about it, the man standing in the doorway caught Damian doing something very strange. Sitting in his room, surrounded by a variety of new, apparently just bought things, from the TV to the candy, the boy stared intently at the wrapping paper in front of him. His gaze, pinned to the object in his hands, did not bode well for this colored piece of paper, and over his angry mutterings, Bruce heard a couple of words. —" It shouldn't be any harder than holding a gun." the man heard his son repeat it a couple of times, as if to convince himself of this, but the crumpled pieces of paper, scattered and viciously crumpled, said otherwise. Bruce could see how Damian was annoyed by this activity, but despite this, the boy continued to try to wrap something that looked like a box more or less neatly. Alfred stopped beside the man, carrying a tray. "Master Damian has been doing this since this morning. I am absolutely sure that I heard a couple of obscene expressions in Arabic and saw a spot of glue on the carpet, but despite this, he makes a success. This box looks neater than the last one." "The last one?" Bruce asked. "Yes, sir. If my memory serves me correctly, this is the 8th box in his hands in the past five hours. The first two were painful to look at. "The butler spoke in a monotone, but then his lips stretched into a small smile. —" I'm surprised Master Damian is so diligent and patient." "Me, too. Patience is not the best side of his character. Do you know who this is for, Alfred?" "No, sir. Master Damian didn't tell me who we owed this debacle to, but I think we'll find out soon enough. Bruce heard a crash in the room and turned away from the other man to look at his son. Damian struggled furiously with the tape, his eyes burning madly, and Bruce wasn't entirely sure that he wouldn't tear down the mansion by the end of the day.

November 15. An unremarkable day for everyone else except Damian. A whole week of effort, his frayed nerves, and his unequal battle with scotch had been all for this day. He got up, a few hours early for school, and in less than a minute, his nervousness had reached its limit. Thinking about it, he squeezed out almost the entire tube of toothpaste, then spilled coffee on his pajamas, forgot to walk Titus, and the most terrible thing for him almost lost the object of his efforts. Gift. Beautifully packaged, with purple bows at the top. He ignored the questioning looks from his father and Alfred as he stalked back to the car, clutching the gift in his right hand and the flowers in his left. Amazing white roses from the main garden of Gotham City. Don't go into the details of how he got them. Damian continued to ignore the strange smiles of the butler and Bruce, mentally rolling his eyes and realizing that this was not all they had to do.

When the stone mass of Gotham Academy finally came into view, Damian was already nervous. Not that it was so difficult for Damian Wayne to walk up and hold out his hand with a gift, saying a few words, but now he was as worried as ever. It was the first time he'd ever given her anything.< i> Yes, it was the first time when he gives something. . He just didn't know what to expect or what to be prepared for. Maybe she wouldn't like the gift. Or she doesn't like gifts. Or something else, and that was all he was thinking about right now. But the moment X has arrived. Alfred dropped him off at the main entrance, smiling calmly at him and wishing him a good day. Damian stumbled out of the car, almost tripping over his own feet, and frowned grimly. As if it's his shoes that are to blame for his being such a mumbler. His gaze swept the landing in front of the main entrance, and Damian stiffened as his eyes caught the girl. Rachel found Damian's gaze as well as his, and smiled at him warmly, waving her hand vigorously. The boy sighed softly, mentally urging himself to calm down, and in one superhuman quick step, he was at her side. Raven stared in surprise. Damian, without taking his eyes off the floor, in some uncoordinated movement, handed her the flowers, literally thrusting them at her, and quickly began to repeat them. - "Happy birthday, Rachel Michaella Roth! I bought you a present and I'm going to give it to you and I really said it." he pulled out the gift with the same quick movement, placing it in the girl's hands, without looking up from his shoes in embarrassment. It was a few agonizing seconds before he caught a movement from Rachel, and then the warm touch of her lips on his cheek. Damian blinked dumbfounded, pinned to the spot only by touching the tips of his finger to the cheek where the girl had kissed him.

[thelittlequeerpumpkinwitch]

Oh, for the ship ask, how about 💖 and 😒 for roloceit?

Hello this came out absurdly long. Also I started, stopped, and forgot this twice because I had to go out for dinner, and then the new Asides dropped.

💖- How do each of them feel about pet names?

I think it goes without saying that Roman is just about the biggest fan of pet names and quirky nicknames there is. He probably dedicates an entire journal to lists of nicknames for each of the sides, and makes little marks and notes to indicate which ones got particularly strong reactions. This one made Janus laugh, use again. Logan was frustrated he didn't understand this one, do not use. He's a dork, is what I'm saying.

Janus gets a lot of snake and scale themed nicknames still because Roman actually thinks his scales are lovely and wants him to know that, always. References to musicals, plays, and mythology are common place in his nicknames. Space themed nicknames are Roman's favorite for Logan, because they're romantic and fit so well, and he loves when Logan reacts to a new nickname in a way that lets him go off on a passionate ramble where he compares him to the sun and the stars until Logan is beet red and mumbling for him to please have mercy and stop his gay heart can't take this?? His nicknames are often themed around novels, sci-fi, science, and also mythology. Roman will also add specific references to Logan's current hyper fixation.

When it comes to simpler, more common terms of endearment Roman's favorites are things like my love, my treasure, my heart, my muse. Sweet and classic, and letting his loves know in a casual way that they're important and beloved and invaluable to him. As for being called pet names? Roman loves it. He's weak for being given affection in any form, honestly, but pet names give him this warm wobbly feeling in his heart. Janus's casual endearment, like loving Roman just comes so naturally and effortlessly to him, makes him melt. Logan's carefully curated nicknames, that he puts so much thought and effort into because nicknames don't come naturally to him but he loves his boyfriends so much that he wants to try anyway, always leave him beaming.

Janus is the second biggest fan of pet names here, because of course he is - he's just as much of a dramatic flirty theatre boy as Roman is. His arsenal of affectionate nicknames is smaller than Roman's, because he doesn't really plan them out like Roman often does. He'll make them up on the spot most of the time, just say whatever comes naturally at the moment. He's made up plenty of little situational nicknames that are almost forgotten as soon as that situation passes, until he says it again like four months later and it immediately reminds Roman or Logan of that exact situation and they start yelling (affectionately). He has a set of favorite nicknames for each of the sides, though, that he uses most often. Roman is his Prince Charming, his Braveheart, his ... terms themed around royalty, bravery, creativity, and charm. Janus is good at this, I am not. Logan can expect to be flustered with My Starlight and My Night Sky fairly often, and also Sherlock Holmes and references to his curiosity, because Janus finds that particularly endearing about him.

Janus's favorite pet name is darling and he uses it constantly, but he can also frequently sprinkle in terms like my beloved, my sweet, dearest, dear, dove. A lot of classic and sweet nicknames, which again, he uses often because terms of endearment just kind of come naturally to him. As for being called pet names, he's fond of it, and certain ones can fluster him, which his boyfriends love. Mostly he enjoys the simple reminder that he's cared for.

Logan's thoughts on pet names are a bit more complex but hey, he's a complex side. He's not good at nicknames, and he admits this. He's not that much better at terms of endearment in general, really. That kind of thing doesn't come as naturally to him, and he tends to express his affection in other ways. He knows, though, that Roman & Janus both enjoy them, so he does make the effort to use them every once in awhile, to cheer them up or just to see them smile. Because he thinks he's bad at them, Logan puts a lot of thought and genuine research into a nickname before he'll use it, because he wants it to be accurate and expressive and liked. Roman & Janus appreciate the effort he puts into them, especially because he doesn't really have to.

Logan always considered himself fairly neutral on the idea of nicknames and pet names, maybe even leaning towards dislike. He has a perfectly acceptable name and there's no reason not to use it, thank you. But that changed pretty fast when Roman & Janus started flirting with him. It flustered him for awhile, because there's a world of difference between pet names and the kind of mocking nicknames he's used to, but once they're all together they just kind of ... make him feel a bit warm and fuzzy.

😒- Who is more protective/gets jealous more easily?

Well, I can tag Logan right as the least protective and prone to jealousy. Not that he isn't protective at all, because he can and will shutdown anyone upsetting his boyfriends, but he has confidence that they can handle themselves and he's pretty good at being level-headed when he's not, you know, angry. He doesn't get jealous often and when he does it's mostly that insecure type of jealousy where he turns it in on himself.

Janus is very protective once he's attached to someone, and obviously his boyfriends are at the top of his list of attachments. He's protective in the way that he won't let anyone talk shit about them, only he can do that, how dare they? And he's very protective of like ... their excitement? If something is really important to them, Janus will bend over backwards to make sure no one else fucks it up, or he'll ruin their lives. He's like ... moderately prone to jealousy? He doesn't particularly like anyone outside of the circle flirting with his boys, and if he spots it he'll usually sweep in and out-flirt the offender and offer some scathing sarcasm and passive-aggression. Sometimes he gets caught up in the fear of being pushed out again and left alone, and he gets snappy and defensive.

Roman is a lot more protective in the physical ways. He's the one that would start a fist fight in public because someone got handsy with Logan or said something especially nasty to Janus. If someone or something is a threat to either of them? Roman will throw down at a moments notice. He'd take a bullet for them, but he's also definitely jumped in front of frisbees and tackled a wild Remus for them. Jealousy ... that's a bit of an issue for him. We all know his self esteem is in tatters, and that can get in his head and in the way of his relationships. He can caught up worrying that Logan & Janus love each other more than they love him, or that they're interesting in someone else and want to replace him, and why wouldn't they, he's so easily replicable-- Roman has definitely cried over his jealousy before, and him starting fights because of it is definitely a bit of a problem early in the relationship, though it is one that's eventually dealt with because of healthy communication and also therapy.

Uh, final verdict is Janus is the most protective but Roman is the most insecure, and Logan loves these fools.

BONUS HEADCANON.

Logan & Roman both own an absurd, insane amount of notebooks and journals dedicated to a vast variety of topics, including nicknames and relationships and random interests. Janus finds it such an amusing thing for them to have in common, and starts keeping a little relationship journal of his own where he keeps notes of all the little things and moments that made him think "wow, I love this person" and presented it to them on their anniversary. They loved it.

[sunsoothed]

partnership

sorry for not working on the prompts. here's a uhhh. [checks notes] 2.7k words canon-divergence fic for you. fixing episodes 19 and 20! dedicated to the corn salad support group. thank you all! hope you like it. and sorry for any errors!

word count: 2719

read on ao3

enjoy!

-

When Vincenzo watches her go, ready to pull his hair out for the is it for women only question, he senses it. Something behind them, a lurking presence. He taps his foot for a moment, considering, still watching her go.

“Byeonhosa-nim!” He calls. The presence moves, as well.

Chayoung turns.

“Call me when you reach?” It’s meant to be a command, but Vincenzo never really lives up to his tiring image around her. “If- if you’re fine with that, of course.”

Chayoung laughs. “Seriously, byeonhosa-nim, I didn’t expect you to be so worrisome.” She shakes her head. “I’ll call you. Don’t forget to eat!”

Vincenzo nods. Chayoung finally disappears out of sight, to her car, and Vincenzo turns to try and discern whether his worries were unfounded. But there is no lurking presence anywhere, nobody watching them. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and debates lunch.

-

Chayoung had called him when she reached, all teasing and light, easing his worry and mounting his mortification. She hangs up with a cheery don’t wait up! And Vincenzo keeps his smile to himself as he hums at the dead line.

Don’t wait up, she had said.

Vincenzo still thinks about it as the evening progresses. When it grows dark out, he finds himself in need of a distraction, so the TV’s turned to one of the variety shows Hanseo had introduced him to, and he’s plucking his wine glass out of the cabinet, when —

Vincenzo knows bad omens when he sees them. He’s not surprised by the sounds outside his unit. Even less so at the letter.

It’s what inside that sets his insides frozen, still. Chayoung’s earring, covered in blood. Vincenzo bites his lip, caught between disbelief and a consuming fear. Turns back, contemplating, and eventually washes hs hands in a rush, picks up his phone, and runs down.

-

When Chayoung picks up her phone, he’s beyond relieved. “You’re okay?”

Chayoung’s greeting is cut off. “Of course I am. Are you?”

“I got… a gift.”

“Is gratitude something so foreign to you that you need to come running to me?” Chayoung asks drily. “Byeonhosa-nim, you really —”

“I think,” Vincenzo cuts in, probably breaking a speeding law, “I think Jang Hanseok is out.”

“What did you get?” Chayoung asks, and she moves, Vincenzo can hear. She sounds like she’s standing up.

“You earring,” Vincenzo admits. “It was covered in blood.”

“Now that you mention it,” Chayoung murmurs, “There are some suspicious people here.”

“I’m on my way,” He replies. “Just be careful.”

“You’re really making me feel like I can’t fend for myself, byeonhosa-nim.”

Vincenzo blinks. He can’t exactly discern her tone, is she… angry?

“I’m sorry —”

“Don’t,” Chayoung sighs. “Don’t start. I’ll wait for you, okay?”

Through some uneasiness, Vincenzo answers, “Okay.”

-

Yeonhwa will admit, she hadn’t expected Chayoung to show up. Her classmate’s always been rather flaky about these events, she doesn't usually come unless she has bad blood or business (or both) with someone.

So it was definitely a surprise when Hong Chayoung walked through the doors of the banquet hall, suit impressive and gait confident. Yeonhwa wasn’t sure what her intention was, but she had that tenacity in her that she’s always had, so it musn’t be anything out of the ordinary.

“Hwang byeonhosa-nim,” Chayoung greets her with a mock-bow. “It’s been a while.”

“Hong byeonhosa-nim,” Yeonhwa mimics, “I haven’t seen you around these parts lately.”

It takes a moment for the screen to shatter, and they both laugh before they take their seats.

“Remember Professor Eun?” Yeonhwa asks, leaning close, already slipping into their old familiarity. “He’s the dean now.”

“Really?” Chayoung asks, genuinely surprised. “Why’d they pick such a bore?”

Yeonhwa shrugs, and they return their attention to the speeches being presented. Her leg begins bouncing under the table, and she’s unsure if Chayoung can sense it or not.

“By the way,” Yeonhwa says, unable to keep to herself even for a moment into the next speaker’s presentation, “Have things been okay with you? I haven’t been keeping up much with the news, but I heard about your father.”

Chayoung smiles at her gratefully. “Thanks for asking. I’ve been… dealing with it.” Dealing with it, Yeonhwa thinks to herself. It doesn’t really seem like it.

She sees something in Chayoung’s eyes, something raw beyond comprehension, some hurt. She places a hand on Chayoung’s arm, aiming to reassure. “I know we don’t keep in touch much, but if you need anything…”

“Thanks, Yeonhwa-yah,” Chayoung says. Odd. She actually feels the sincerity this time. “You’ve always been so kind.”

Has it been so long since she’s just had… a friend?

Chayoung swallows. Yeonhwa notes this, from the corner of her eye, and she realises that this must be why Chayoung’s been so distant.

It’ll be a long night, she supposes. Hopefully she can take Chayoung out for drinks after this.

-

Turns out, Yeonhwa cannot take Chayoung out for drinks after this, because she first gets a phone call that makes her sigh in a fond way, then makes her jittery in a terrible way, and second — Yeonhwa thinks this is the most confusing thing — there’s a man here to see Chayoung.

They were really just minding their own business after the speeches had ended, piling their plates with food and actually having a pleasant conversation when this trenchcoat clad man had burst in, fast on his feet, and Chayoung had stood up.

Yeonhwa blinks, uncomprehending, as she watches the interaction in front of her. The man — Mr Black Trenchcoat — is walking rather swiftly towards Chayoung. There’s some decided determination in his steps and when he reaches her —

Yeonhwa blinks even more. He cups Chayoung’s face. His thumbs brush her cheeks, and it’s so… unlike Chayoung to just stand there and take it.

Or, well, it doesn't exactly look like she’s taking it, she’s… enjoying this. Oh, Yeonhwa registers. Obviously Chayoung knows his man, but she hadn’t mentioned a boyfriend, or a partner or a husband or an anyone. Yeonhwa watches, puzzled, as they look into each other’s eyes and Chayoung finds some reassurance there.

Chayoung puts her hands against the man’s, and she says something to him, and he nods and backs down.

“Yeonhwa-yah.” Chayoung turns to her abruptly. Yeonhwa is shocked out of her confused stupor. She’s picking up her stuff, her phone goes into her pocket and her handbag to Mr Black Trenchcoat. “I need to go. I’ll keep in touch.”

“Chayoung!” Yeonhwa calls, a little louder than intended, “Promise.”

Chayoung blinks at her, halfway out of her chair. “Promise?”

“Promise me you’ll keep in touch,” Yeonhwa elaborates. “You always say you will but you never do. Promise me.”

Chayoung swallows, and Yeonhwa’s sure they’re feeling the same thing now. She bites her lip, then she holds out her hand, fisted, save for her pinky finger. “I promise.”

Yeonhwa smiles. She reciporcates, twining her pinky with Chayoung’s, and sealing the promise.

“I’m here for you, remember?” Yeonhwa implores, before Chayoung can take off.

Chayoung nods, and then Chayoung hugs her, squeezing tight. “Thank you, Yeonhwa. Thank you so much.”

Yeonhwa smiles wider, tightening her arms around Chayoung for a moment before letting her go. “Take care, hm?”

Chayoung nods. “You too.”

And she runs off with Mr Black Trenchcoat who holds her handbag for her and seems to treasure her, because he holds her hand tight. She can tell, by the look on his face, what Chayoung means to him. He’s also well-versed in loving Hong Chayoung, Yeonhwa thinks, and Yeonhwa smiles, for if her first love is happy, then she’s happy.

-

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Chayoung says, as she meets Vincenzo outside Geumga Plaza, after parking her car. They had maintained their speed well within the permission of the law.

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Vincenzo replies.

Chayoung sighs, walking to him, and then pushing him along as they enter the plaza. “I need to talk to you about something,” She says, “But let’s get to the bottom of whatever you were gifted first.”

Vincenzo gulps. He’s in for a scolding, isn’t he?

Reckless, he prepares himself. Reckless, thoughtless, inconsiderate.

Jipuragi is cold when they enter, no sign Mr Nam around. Vincenzo retrieves the earrings, the envelope, and presents it to Chayoung.

“It can’t be anyone else,” He says. He stands at the table, leaning over Chayoung, who’s sitting at the head. “It has to be him.”

Chayoung hums, finding the earrings she’s wearing now extremely unnerving. She reaches up to undo them. “Do we have any way to confirm it?”

Vincenzo tilts his head. “Jang Hanseo?”

Chayoung sets the earrings down on the table, drums her fingers over it. She doesn’t like this idea — she still hasn’t warmed up to him. “I suppose he’s our best bet.”

Vincenzo nods, retrieves his phone from his pocket, ready to call but he’s not sure what stops him.

“Something’s wrong,” Chayoung says, to a pin-drop silence.

Vincenzo stares at the door, something sinking in his gut.

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Chayoung says, now desperate. She stands. “Did you see anyone when we came in?”

Vincenzo wants to shake his head, but he can’t take his eyes off the door. “Byeonhosa-nim,” He says, a warning. “Get down.”

That’s when the first bullet comes.

-

It’s cramped in the space between Vincenzo’s sofa and the bay window, but it’s their best bet. Chayoung tucks her knees to her chest, scooting closer to the corner to accommodate Vincenzo.

“No one’s picking up,” Vincenzo whispers. “We can’t go out.”

Chayoung swallows. Her throat is extremely dry. “So we wait it out, then.”

Vincenzo exhales, nodding. “Do you need anything?”

She shakes her head. “Come closer, they’ll see you from side of the sofa.”

So Vincenzo comes closer, and in this narrow space, the tension is undeniable.

“I’m sorry,” He says abruptly. “About earlier today.”

“What about earlier today?”

“For coming to… rescue you.”

“Rescue me,” Chayoung scoffs. “I should’ve seen something like this coming, you know.”

“What…” Vincenzo bites his lip. “What exactly are you referring to, byeonhosa-nim?”

“A showdown. Maybe one of us getting shot or something,” Chayoung lets her head fall back against the wall. “Losing.”

Vincenzo doesn’t want to snatch hope from his partner. Not after all he’s already taken from her. We haven’t lost yet — “We —”

“Also your… overprotection.”

That certainly makes the gears in his head still. “My…”

“I mean, I know it’s practical. I’m not a member of the Mafia, I can’t fight people like you. I’m just a regular lawyer, only fucked up slightly more than the system usually makes us.”

Vincenzo pulls his knees up to his chest as well, then settles his forehead against them and just… looks.

“I hate that I can’t fend for myself.”

“Who said you can’t?” Vincenzo tries, but it sounds empty to his own ears as well.

“Stop it, byeonhosa-nim. You of all people know I that I can’t. You saw me that day, when they came to kill me in my house.”

Vincenzo blinks up at her. “You can still learn.”

Chayoung glances at him, sideways, through her lashes. “You think so?”

He hums. “You can learn some martial arts. Or do it the organic way.”

“The organic way?”

“Let yourself loose out on the street. Offend some people. I’m sure you’ll find a sparring partner eventually.”

Chayoung snorts. “A sparring parter? Is that how you learnt?”

“I’m sure it added to my experience,” Vincenzo considers.

“But seriously,” Chayoung says. “Martial arts?”

He nods. “They don’t only help with strength; balance of mind, self-control, expelling worldly desires…”

“Expelling worldly desires,” Chayoung mocks. “Sounds like your exact opposite.”

Vincenzo has nothing to add. The unbearable silence roots itself more firmly, solidifies itself in their dark surroundings.

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Chayoung says, a timid moment later. “Once you get your gold out… what will you do?”

Vincenzo finds his eyes looking away from Chayoung for the first time since they’ve settled here. He swallows. “Genuinely?”

“Genuinely.”

“I want to stay here.”

“In Korea?”

“With you.”

Chayoung goes still. “With me?”

Vincenzo finds it in himself to look at her again. “Do you still not know?”

“Of course I know,” She says. “I just… didn’t expect a confession in a situation like this.”

“I’ll be more predictable in the future,” Vincenzo promises. “Can I have another chance?”

Chayoung laughs, now, high, hysterical. “You don’t get another chance at a confession.”

“So that’s how it works,” Vincenzo says, to his knees. “Then I suppose your expectations can’t get worse.”

Chayoung glares at him.

“I love you.”

Chayoung stops glaring at him. “You love me?”

Vincenzo nods. “I do.”

“You…”

“I just want you to know,” He says. “You don’t have to reply.”

So Chayoung doesn’t. She stares ahead, at the arm of the sofa, and says nothing.

Well, Vincenzo thinks. This wasn’t how he had expected this to go.

“Byeonhosa-nim,” Chayoung says. “You can’t practice law here.”

“I’ll study for the bar exam.”

“You won’t have to, though,” She continues. “You don’t have to work another day in your life.”

“What do you suggest I do, then?”

“You can stay home. Maybe you can learn how to cook. Or clean the place.”

“You’re trying to domesticate me.”

“Is it working?”

Vincenzo tilts his head. “... A little.”

Chayoung laughs. “That won’t be too bad, though, would it? You could be my house-husband.”

“Getting a little ahead of yourself, byeonhosa-nim?”

“We’re engaged,” Chayoung argues. “I’m just discussing our marriage.”

Vincenzo smiles, huffs out a laugh. “I adore you.”

Chayoung glances at him, shy. She looks at her knees for a moment, then speaks softly. “Me too.”

There’s a lull in conversation. The air is solid. Chayoung gulps, and she shifts closer.

“Tell me if you’re not okay with this, hm?”

Vincenzo looks at her leaning in and closes his eyes. She’s steeled herself, coming closer with purpose. Vincenzo waits for the softness to come, for something to go off within him, because if being with Chayoung sets him alight, kissing Chayoung —

Doesn’t happen.

Vincenzo’s apartment’s door is kicked down in a flourish, and there are footsteps everywhere, and Chayoung is holding her hands above her head now.

Vincenzo turns to face the music. It’s about time, he supposes. He isn’t supposed to have good things in life, anyway. He’s a murderer.

He exhales, cracks his neck, and turns, ready to stand and fight at any moment. But it’s Mr Nam, who holds a torchlight to his face, blinking owlishly.

“So you’re here,” He says, then looks at Chayoung. “Did I interrupt something?”

-

“You… took them down by yourselves?” Chayoung asks for the third time, in disbelief.

Around the large, make-shift table at Toto’s, the tenants nods and chorus a we did for the third time.

Chayoung looks at Vincenzo. “They took them down by themselves.”

Vincenzo nods, and for the third time, says, “They did, tesoro.”

Chayoung processes it. “So… there’s nothing left to do now?”

“We need to clean up,” Heesoo-unnie says. “Those bastards are all still laying dead on the floor.”

“Right,” Chayoung says, nodding. “I’m sorry, you said you took down Jang Hanseok’s men all by yourselves?”

-

In the end, it’s not too hard to find Jang Hanseok, even less hard to confine him to his suffering. Choi Myunghee is served as she deserves, and Vincenzo and Chayoung lay low for three months for the discoveries to blow over.

It won’t be enough to cover their trail, they know, but the gold and the Guillotine file are in their hands, and the world could use some order in chaos.

Vincenzo does, eventually, end up as Chayoung’s house-husband. He has her dinner ready every evening she returns from work or her taekwondo class, and his world’s a happier place for it.

In deep evening, when the city picks up life and the city scents sleep, they sometimes go out for dinner and drinks, or game night with their Geumga family, or Chayoung catches a movie with Yeonhwa.

And at late night, when it’s just them against the dying cityscape, Chayoung will cup her husband’s face in her hands and remind him of his place in the world. Vincenzo will be grateful for it until he can handle it, and then some more, for what is love, if not growth?

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 7 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Sakura went to her shift a little bit giddier than usual for a variety of reasons despite the busy holiday season; it was nearing Christmas after all. The first one – having finally tied with Sasuke in their recent exams, and the second – the approval of her personal project. There was also a third reason, but she was unresolved of what to feel.

Kakashi met with her alone after their monthly council meeting. It was the usual talk, the heavy administrative concerns they do not bother other council members with, reminders about problematic behaviors among the student body or personal problems that faculty or students were plagued with that needed intervention. He said an apology just as she reached the door.

“Sakura?” Kakashi asked, turning in his chair.

She looked back at him with a neutral expression. While she knew she wasn’t overtly passive aggressive in her actions, he might have noticed a change in her cheerful disposition towards him. Her clumped fingers anxiously fidgeted with the rubber band on her wrist, his rubber band that she didn’t use anymore to tie her hair. “Yes, sensei?”

“Were you offended with what I said during the school trip?” he asked, but his expression already seemed to know the answer.

Her eyes downcast, she turned the knob of the door, knowing that she was free to leave without replying, but as the door stayed ajar, she decided to come clean. “Yes.”

“I thought as much. I’m aware that I belittled you like a child. Your money is yours to spend however you want. Please know that I only have good intentions with what I’ve done,” her sensei told her. “But isn’t it also unfair for you to shoulder that much problem? I’m a paid employee and before that, I am your adviser. I have a responsibility just as much as you do. Next time you are presented with that, learn to ask for help.”

Sakura didn’t see the expression he had on his face. She was too flustered to compose a comeback and she can only settle for a meek nod before shooting out of the room like her tail was on fire.

“Girlie!” Her coworker’s voice brought her back to reality – a reality of a long queue of customers waiting for their to-go coffees, mini-cakes, and boxes of pastries to share with loved ones in this cold night while she’ll be likely stuck in shift well past beyond midnight, tolerating the café uniform, the itch of her black weave on her scalp, and the heavy makeup she wore for tonight. She flashed an apologetic (yet charming) smile to the other person, and they gave her a thumbs up.

The queue has thinned out by eleven, to be replaced soon by stragglers hoping to catch a last dose of caffeine pump. She stretched her neck and stifled a yawn, forgetting to say Welcome to a customer that walked through their doors.

“Your sweetest drink please and a half dozen of hazelnut cookies,” the customer said. “Thanks, Sakura.”

She almost broke her already strained neck when she raised it up quickly to meet the owner of the voice. No gel blonde hair Naruto with black circles under his eyes. Rookie MVP looked shit as hell.

She barely formed an excuse in her head when he waved his hand in front of her. “You can drop the act with me. I already knew the week you got discharged from the hospital. I just passed by after dinner with the team when I saw a girl manning the cashier with the same band-aid on her nose which I gave you a day before.” Naruto grinned at her in the off chance that it would reassure her.

“Will this be to-go?” Sakura asked as she busied herself with Naruto’s order, unsettled with her carelessness. At the back of her mind, she was yet to answer herself why she was adamant to use a disguise while working.

“For here. Apartment’s kinda bare during these times.”

As what she expected, Naruto was still seated when they were about to close, and ironically, he chose the corner table with no windows, contrary to what his other friend would have chosen. Like those usual nights with Sasuke, she slid in front of him, her disguise gone.

“Let’s go see the amusement park tomorrow?” It was as if she saw sadness being lifted from his shoulders the way they transitioned from slouching to an alert stance.

She found then that Naruto was always that person that found happiness at the simplest things.

--------------------------------

“A horror house!” Naruto pointed at the very moment they stepped inside the park. He somehow absorbed his captain’s fashion persona, undercut prominent with his baseball cap, loose plain black shirt, and gray cargo pants.

“All right. Treat me if we reach the other end with you clinging to my arm,” Sakura teased. She was dressed in a mauve smocked crop top with high rise flared jeans and platform white sneakers that allowed her to reach Naruto’s shoulders. She wondered if her getup was too much what with the number of heads that turned her way as she littered in the entrance earlier.

Sasuke begged off through their group chat, saying he was unavailable. He was yet to explain that group hug last time, but he was evasive every time Naruto brought it up while she simply cannot find the right timing.

She guessed she was still taken aback by how warm his hold felt like. If she was right, whatever defenses he had around them were toppled down by himself that day. But what triggered it – she’d probably never know.

Naruto placed a fist on his chest. “This is one bet I’ll never lose.”

And he lost – spectacularly. His baseball cap was long gone thanks to a zombie who panicked when he almost punched it. He was also hyperventilating and sweating out of his wits, his throat may have gone hoarse by now with all his screaming inside.

Sakura cannot get rid of the long string of laughter that bubbled. “Come on, let’s cool off for a while.”

To help calm Naruto down, they had to line up with all the other kids in the merry-go-round, then off to paddle a swan boat on a manmade lake. She went all out in the shooting range and won Naruto a frog plushie while he blitzed through the basketball hoops, sneering at the kids beside him who were waiting for their turns.

They capped off the afternoon with a ride on the ferris wheel. They sat opposite each other, and Sakura suddenly felt queasy. She remembered she was apparently acrophobic, and so she focused instead on Naruto who was still in awe of the scenery. The park had a busy crowd today – it was the holiday season after all and families, friends, and lovers were up and about. She just hoped Naruto didn’t catch on yet.

“So why are you stuck with me instead of your family, Sakura?”

Ah he caught on. “They’re busy,” she simply replied. “Besides I’ll see them later in the evening.”

Naruto smiled at her, a smile that knew she was hiding more but he chose not to prod further. Sakura silently conveyed her thanks.

“I don’t know how to thank you. I was really in a slump when we lost, but this day made me recharge my drive and gave me a newfound resolve. You, Pres, is the first to hear it!”

Sakura can only grin, urging him to go on.

“I will bring our school team to the nationals and we will win.”

Sakura clapped her hands and gave him a thumbs up. “Of course, you will. I know you’ll do it.”

“I just wish I told Captain Haru before he left town for vacation.” Naruto slid lower in his seat. “Apparently, he and Hinata broke up. You’re friends with both of them, right?”

Sakura shook her head, shock at the news. She had an inkling from her previous conversation with Haru, but she didn’t expect it would come this early. “I am, but I haven’t really heard from both parties lately.”

“Well, Hinata’s father offered an athletic scholarship to Cap, but he turned it down, saying he was undeserving, and it might just be because of Hinata’s prodding.”

If she recalled correctly, Hiashi Hyuuga was the chair of the Sports Council that spanned all districts of their state. She could see why Haru was angry and disappointed enough to break it off with Hinata. “But they were so good together. Did he ever tell you how they first met?”

Naruto rubbed his hands together and leaned forward. “Do tell please!”

“There was a student exchange of some sort and Hinata ended up in our class for a month. Of course, she was the takane no hana and this immediately gathered a bandwagon group of shallow admirers. Haru, oh Haru, he found pretty people depth-less, but he was the class representative that time – “

“And you were?”

“Of course, a student council president. But wait pay attention Naruto!”

“Okay I am paying attention! But you really are an overachiever!”

“Yeah and what about it!” Sakura almost chuckled in exasperation. “So anyway, he had to escort Hinata back and forth at the school gates because of the unreasonable crowd. He would ask her random things, but most especially on archery since he was so bad at it. And they found a common ground and the topics expanded beyond the arrow and bow. The guy had the nerve to cover it up from me at first, saying they’re fake dating and it was just an arrangement to keep creeps at bay.” She sighed, suddenly saddened by the breakup. “I thought it would last forever.”

“But Hinata never introduced him to her family, did she?” Naruto asked. “Because Cap also told me that when Hiashi called him up for the offer, he didn’t know he was the boyfriend, he was simply a person her friend referred.”

Oh Haru. You must have known what family you were entering when you loved her.

“Hey? Time to get down,” the operator said. Their turn was already finished.

As they walked to the gates, Naruto asked her. “Love is too scary. You’ll never know if you’ll end up hurt or happy despite everything. Besides, can you even say it’ll be worth fighting for?”

Sakura’s fingers immediately went to the rubber band on her wrist, “It’s always a mix of everything, all the good and the bad, and somehow it’s all convoluted into one hodgepodge of memories that will be a part of you forever. It’s your decision what you want to do with it, and in between all of those, you’ll know. Like one big realization in your head that lights up like fireworks and splayed in big capital letters.”

Her eyes met Naruto’s gaze and his eyes slightly widened at her response.

“I talk vague, don’t I?”

“Not at all,” he replied.

--------------------------------

January couldn’t come fast enough, and Itachi was out of the country just as quickly as he entered his apartment unannounced on Christmas Eve. A holiday break, he said, but if he wasn’t annoyingly checking up on him in the evenings, he was otherwise holed up in his hotel. The truth was, he had a conference and a simultaneous workshop with the state hospital. Sasuke was just a side trip, an obligation that his brother didn’t want to take care of.

He could have told him about Naruto and Sakura and how he now knew all the technicalities of baseball because of the former and that he can consider calling them as friends, but their brotherly bond was too frayed to bridge all of those thoughts.

It was a week before the start of the spring term, and he found himself re-reading Naruto’s texts over and over again.

Grumpy.

So how was your date?

AHHHHH SO IT WAS A DATE. I NOW FEEL SO SHY.

Idiot.

SHE LOOKED SO BEAUTIFUL IN HER GETUP.

Yeah as if you two didn’t already spam the group chat with your pictures.

HEY AT LEAST WE EDITED YOU IN.

Why are you typing in all caps? Your phone broken?

GRUMPPPPPPYYYYY. Grumpy, I have something to tell you. I think I like Sakura – not the ‘like’ like others have for her. It just came to me, like fireworks in big capital letters. I LIKE HER.

Sasuke wasn’t able to reply. He didn’t know what to reply or what to feel, really. These recent nights, his mind only brought him to the first moment he saw her in the café, and there was an unfamiliar pang he couldn’t name.

Then, suddenly he was in front of her in the café itself, ordering an iced americano and bruschetta with tomato and basil. Her eyes lit up in recognition; today she wore her black hair in low pigtails and a light dab of tint on her cheeks and lips.

She sat across him when it was her break time, cheery and still in disguise, the winter cold making the blush even more prominent. “I’m gonna bounce some ideas to you.”

Sasuke kept mum, relishing the sacred combination of tomato and basil in his mouth, but let his stare level with hers.

“The school board approved my personal project. I proposed to set up a mental health committee since our infirmary – get this – and guidance office don’t actually have a psychiatrist. The school will be asking a medical professional to come in for monthly guidance counseling and will be an official partner for outpatient concerns.” With her face on her palm, she leaned forward, seemingly surveying Sasuke’s minute expressions.

“That’s tricky,” he remarked. “How will you encourage them though?”

“I think just the mere availability and accessibility of it is enough to encourage students.”

“Hmm.” He took a sip of his coffee.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me why I did it?”

Sasuke knew that he already broke his resolve to remain uninvolved in the remaining years of his life here in this town. He knew that sometime ago, the walls he built up since the accident broke down in the constant presence of her and the blonde idiot. But in spite of, he knew that there was another layer of wall that withstood the recent onslaught. Unfortunately, something has started to leak from its crevices. Something that made him understand the overwhelming emotions that raged behind such walls.

He missed having her all to himself, like a little secret, a safe abode he could always retreat to – her with her black hair and makeup, her with her bouts of vulnerabilities laid out in front of him in rare moments, her with her emerald eyes and tufts of rose hair that peak from the weave, her in this table in front of him and the world outside divided by a glass window.

If he could name it, it was a feeling of loss, a loss he stole and a loss he never had the privilege of feeling in the first place.

“Because you’re a good person and you always think of others,” Sasuke started, still holding her gaze. “And I think you want it because you might need it more.”

Sakura was the first to break off. She soon excused herself and resumed her shift. By the time Sasuke finished his coffee and bread, it was almost closing time. His words may have struck a chord so he decided not to wait for her. Maybe he’ll talk it through with her next time, if she allowed him to. He was almost out of the doors when the new pair of customers passed by.

A glint of silver hair.

“Oh, hello there Sakura.”

And a brunette on his arm.

Sasuke never saw color drain as quickly as the blush did from Sakura’s face.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 8

[ncssian]

just another graceless night

merry christmas 🎄here's my secret snowflake gift for the lovely sayo @sayosdreams. if u didn't guess it already, surprise! i hope u like it <3

a/n: this is part of my series of crescent city aus found in my masterlist, and is sort of a continuation to family therapy. you don’t need to have read family therapy to understand this fic, but it helps!

summary: it's nesta's birthday, and her loved ones have special plans for her (that may or may not go awry). featuring nessian and nesta/lucien friendship.

The ring caught the late morning light as Cassian twisted it over and over in his hands: a gold band studded with two pearls and an oval pink diamond at the center.

It was nothing like the female he wanted to give it to, and yet it was perfect for her. Because Nesta Archeron, despite all her walls and best efforts, was inside as warm as daylight. Or at least she was to Cassian.

The familiar beep of the security system sounded as someone unlocked the apartment door, and Cassian stood up quickly from the kitchen barstool. By the time the Archeron sisters entered, the ring was shoved deep in his pocket.

He affected a huge smile, though it may have been tinged with a hint of panic. “Back already?”

“Did you miss me too much?” Nesta padded over to the open-plan kitchen and dropped a paper bag of leftovers on the island next to Cassian. “I brought you macarons.”

He murmured his thanks into a soft greeting kiss.

Feyre and Elain remained in the living room, setting gift bags onto the coffee table. “We should probably get going,” Elain smiled and clapped her hands. “If only I could see more of my own sister on her birthday, but I suppose fancy breakfast and gifts will have to do.”

Nesta scowled at her younger sisters. “I told you both you could come with me tonight. I don’t care if you’re around my friends, really.”

Feyre made a face. “No, thanks. Not that your friends scare me or anything, but I have a hot date this evening.” She flushed at the idea of her boyfriend and Elain held back an eye roll. “I don’t,” Elain stated, “but I’m taking the night to myself. Don’t worry about us, go get wrecked tonight.”

“If you insist.” Nesta moved in for a goodbye hug, something Cassian knew she still had to force herself to initiate with her family. A chorus of happy birthdays and goodbyes went around, and then the sisters were pulling apart. Cassian watched contently from the threshold between the kitchen and living room, and straightened up once Feyre and Elain were gone and Nesta was turning back to him.

She pulled slowly at one of the small ties on the neckline of her blouse, letting it come undone. “So,” she said slowly. “It’s my birthday.”

Cassian was well-aware. He’d woken up an hour early this morning to show Nesta, slowly and thoroughly, just how glad he was that she’d been born. He wasn’t so lazy that he considered orgasms birthday presents, though, so he raised his brows at Nesta starting to undress in their living room.

“You want a repeat of this morning already? If I’m being honest, I thought there would be more variety on your birthday agenda.”

Nesta’s smile dropped at the same time her shirt dropped to the ground. “Don’t delude yourself, angel. I’m getting ready to change into my sweats so we can marathon Fangs and Bangs all day.” To prove her point, her jeans fell to the ground next, and she kicked them away before spinning around to head for their bedroom.

Cassian picked her clothes up and followed after her. “Wear whatever you want, sweetheart, but put a pin in that marathon plan.”

Nesta glanced at him with a frown. “Why?”

She didn’t actually think that Cassian hadn’t planned anything for her, did she? He huffed a laugh and chucked her clothes into a hamper. “I’m not going to be seeing you all night, which means,” he flicked her nose, “I have to give you my present now.”

Getting put on patrol duties the same night of Nesta’s birthday was not ideal, but if anything, it ensured that Cassian couldn’t chicken out of his plan at the last minute. The ring sat heavy in his pocket, and he would give it to her this afternoon no matter what.

Nesta glared at him, but it was halfhearted. “I told you not to get me anything,” she said. “There’s nothing I want today except spending time with you.”

“We are spending time together,” he promised. “Just not here.”

“Then where?”

***

Their destination was beyond the borders of the city, too far for Cassian to fly them. Their motorcycle ended up rumbling to a stop some hours later at the edges of a great sunflower field.

Nesta pulled off her helmet and stared in rare wonder. Yellow and green stalks spread out in every direction, touching the horizon and going on.

She turned to Cassian, a softness in her eyes that only he ever got to see. “I’ve never seen this place before.”

“Because you haven’t wandered more than twenty miles outside of the city in years,” he ribbed.

He led her to a clear space among the flowers that was laid down with a checkered picnic blanket and spread of food. Nesta glanced at Cassian, questioning.

“This field is private property,” he explained, “but I called in a favor ahead of time.”

Over a year of dating Cassian had taught Nesta how to be more familiar with sweet gestures and moments of vulnerability, but she still lacked the words to properly respond to this.

“It's very— thank you.” She cleared her throat.

Cassian only grinned and flicked her nose, a careless gesture that told her he understood how she was feeling without her having to say it.

Their lunch date was warm and full of light, two feelings that Nesta had been a foreigner to before meeting Cassian. She’d used to think she would never be fit for soft or pretty things, but here, eating strawberries in a sundress, she felt this was as pretty as life was ever going to get.

Not long after eating, Cassian’s hand found the back of Nesta’s calf, dragging up her bare leg and pulling until she was on her back, his hulking body stretched over her. Gasping for breath between laughter, Nesta succumbed to a barrage of kisses that soon moved lower, until her giggles turned into light moans.

“I love you, you know,” he whispered from between her legs.

A bright blue sky dotted with a few wispy clouds was her view while Cassian tortured her with his mouth, and her last thought before her eyes slipped shut and she slipped into release was How perfect.

***

In a shimmery dress layered with swaying fringe, Nesta picked through the dancing bodies of Vanir and mortals alike to get to the private area off to the back of The Seven Devils club.

Nesta had made the mistake of falling asleep in Cassian’s arms after their afternoon delight, and had woken up to the sky turning ablaze with the colors of the sunset and her phone buzzing insistently.

“What are you doing,” Amren demanded when she answered. “It takes you two hours to get ready and you’re an hour away from home. Did you forget we had plans tonight?”

“Shit— wait, how do you know where I am?” Nesta said as she began grabbing for things and starting to pack, Cassian watching in alarm.

“I know where everyone is,” the mercenary said. “Get your ass back to Crescent City now.”

“Wait— we’re leaving?” Cassian had said after Nesta hung up the phone. Nesta kept packing their picnic basket, trying to hurry before it got dark.

“Thank you so much for today, angel,” she paused to say to him. Grabbing his face with both hands, she put her gratefulness into a sweet kiss and hoped it would be enough. “But we need to go. Now.”

Cassian’s hand drifted to his pocket. He looked conflicted, angry, even, but he only nodded and led Nesta back to their motorcycle.

Once they were about to part ways hours later, Cassian for his job and Nesta for her party, she’d apologized to him once more.

“It's nothing,” he assured as he smoothed down her stray baby hairs. “I just thought we'd get more time together.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek with a smile. “But we already have lots of that, don't we?”

Now, at the black velvet rope tying off the reserved area, Emerie caught sight of Nesta and greeted her with a hoot. Nesta grinned.

“Over here, birthday girl.” A drink was shoved into Nesta’s hand as Emerie led her to the circle of couches where their friends awaited.

The usual group was there: Amren, Varian, Nuan, and some Aux guys she’d gotten to know while working for her firm. But a new face made her smile drop.

“Lucien,” Nesta said stiffly. She plopped down next to him on the couch, but pointedly ignored his mocking grin.

Elain had stayed home alone tonight just so Lucien and Nesta would have the chance to spend time on their own. Nesta still wasn't sure if she appreciated the gesture or not.

They had agreed, although reluctantly, that they would try to rekindle whatever they’d had in their teenage years. Lucien hadn’t participated in one of Nesta’s birthdays as anything other than Elain’s plus one in ages, and now… Nesta snorted to herself. It was like she was eighteen again.

“What’s so funny?” Lucien asked.

“Your face.”

A crumpled straw wrapper bounced off Lucien’s head before he could reach over and pinch Nesta. “No one's tackling anyone into the cake tonight, or else it's over for the both of you,” Amren warned. Her threats were mild, but both Nesta and Lucien knew enough about what Amren did for a living to shut up and go back to ignoring each other.

Music pounded, and while her friends chatted excitedly about meeting up after so long, Nesta eyed her drink in consideration. There was no amount of alcohol in the world that would ever get her to play nice with Lucien Vanserra, but maybe a few drinks wouldn't hurt.

She took a deep swig.

***

Nesta and Lucien drunkenly stumbled out of the club, giggling while holding each other up.

“We should call a cab,” Nesta said.

“No— let's walk!” Lucien gasped. “It’s so nice out tonight.”

“Yes, yes,” Nesta nodded adamantly. “Good idea, you're so smart, Lucien.”

It was far past two in the morning, and the rest of Nesta's group had scattered like roaches over the course of the night. Many of them had left her with a big smacking kiss on her cheek and a final birthday wish; Amren had dragged Varian into a dark corner some while ago and hadn't been seen since.

Her pile of presents, most of the gifts being either wildly inappropriate or outright hilarious, had been whisked away with the help of fae magic back to her and Cassian’s apartment. She only hoped Cassian didn't return home before her and find them.

Nesta had forgotten how much fun partying with Lucien was like. They hadn't danced— or drank— together like that in years. And the huge stuffed dolphin he’d gifted her hadn't hurt. She hadn’t slept with one of those babies since she moved out of her childhood home, but he had remembered her favorite animal anyway.

Now, she leaned her head against his arm as they set off in a random direction, trying not to topple over in her high heels.

They made it only a couple of blocks before Nesta decided that fresh air was not as nice as Lucien had promised. With every breeze, a discomforting nausea grew, and the longer she walked, the more aware she was of the sharp pressure on her bladder.

“Lucien,” she finally whined, “I have to pee.”

“Hold it until we get home.”

Nesta blinked and for the first time, looked around at their surroundings. How many blocks had they walked again?

The buildings had become worn down and older, and neon lights flickered over dim alleyways. The trees that usually lined every sidewalk curb had virtually disappeared. Even while seeing double, Nesta knew something was off. “Luc,” she said slowly, “where are we?”

“Uhhh…” Brown eyes squinted up at the decaying buildings. He was drunk out of his mind. “We’re close to the Old Square, I swear.”

But Nesta recognized this area, even if she had no clue where they were exactly. “This isn’t the Old Square.” Her grip tightened on Lucien’s arm. “We’re in the Meat Market, Lucien.”

They were both quiet for a moment. Then Lucien said, “Oops.”

Oops was an understatement. They were on the other fucking side of town— the bad side of town. The shadows in the alleys had suddenly elongated, becoming darker as if they were hiding nefarious activities. The buildings seemed to stretch and curve, and it took Nesta a heartracing moment to realize that was just what alcohol did to her vision. There were no monstrous creatures, at least not this far out on the edges of the Meat Market. The crime-ridden district wasn't anything a straightminded Nesta would have ever feared, but in her current state—

“Ohh, now I’m really gonna be sick,” she muttered.

“I thought you had to pee?”

“I need to do both.” Gagging on bile, Nesta sprinted to the nearest bush to empty out the contents of her stomach. She just barely missed her dress and shoes with her aim, but she was no amateur. At least her hair had stayed in its ponytail.

“Gross,” Lucien mumbled from somewhere behind her.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Nesta closed her eyes as her insides clenched once more. When she could breathe clearly again, she rasped, “Don't look.” She started wriggling her panties down her legs. In any other state, she would have felt bad for the lone bush, but now she was just grateful that this road was seemingly deserted.

Inebriated Lucien seemed to handle urine better than vomit, because he only crossed his arms and stood guard by Nesta while she did her business, as if he could protect her in case anyone walked by (he could not, but she thought it was sweet of him to try).

When she finished, Nesta was disappointed to find that she had not sobered up in the slightest. Clarity danced right on the edges of her grasp, but she was too exhausted to reach for it. Also, her feet were killing her.

Swaying, Lucien tugged on her hand and began pulling her along. “C’mon, we’ll call a ride home and find somewhere to wait.”

“Mm, good idea.”

Lucien pulled his phone out, and Nesta paused in the middle of the road to unstrap her shoes and kick them off. Gravel bit into her bare feet, and she shivered while Lucien sloppily tapped at his phone. She hadn't noticed the cold so much while she was still having fun, but suddenly it was freezing.

After a painfully long moment of silence, Lucien finally said, “Uhh… my phone’s dead.”

Nesta hissed, but was too tired to curse him. She wrangled her own phone out of her purse, hopping back and forth on her toes. The gravel almost hurt more than her shoes, and she was pretty sure the roads were littered with glass.

Turning her phone on, she made it all the way to Cassian’s contact info when she noticed the lack of bars on the corner of her screen. She clicked on his number anyway, hoping she could reach her boyfriend through whatever obstacles technology threw at her.

Of course, the call didn't go through. An animalistic noise escaped through her gritted teeth.

Lucien jumped in fright, his gaze still hazy and out of it. “What was that?”

“The sound I make when there's no fucking signal and we're both fucking lost.”

“Wha—? Gimme that.” Lucien sloppily swiped for her phone and missed, his hand passing through the air two feet in front of Nesta. Nesta ignored him and kept tapping at her phone, starting to walk in a random direction. “There has to be a signal somewhere,” she laughed somewhat high-pitched. “You can't have organized crime without a strong mobile network, right?”

After a few minutes, however, it became clear that whatever reception the drug lords and gang members were using, Nesta couldn't get it.

Hopelessness and bone deep exhaustion setting in, she started weeping, her shoulders shaking.

“Nooo,” Lucien slurred, trying to pull her up from where she crouched on the ground, her hands over her face. “Don't cry, Nesta, ’s’your birthday.”

“It’s not my birthday anymore,” Nesta sobbed. “It's the day after and we’re lost and we’re this close to getting mugged by a gang of vampires. And it's all because you have terrible ideas.” She cried harder.

“You’ve gotta get up.” Lucien tugged at her again, letting out a whiny grunt when she didn't move. “Why are you so heavy?”

Nesta wasn't moving because he was not, in fact, pulling at her very hard. Lucien was incredibly dizzy, though, and he wanted nothing but to be back home with Elain while he regained his senses.

As he was about to give up, a great boom sounded, and a dark hulking figure dropped down onto the street before them.

“AHH, A HUGE BIRD!” Lucien shrieked and stumbled backward into Nesta.

Another winged shadow dropped from the sky, landing beside the first.

“TWO HUGE BIRDS!”

Nesta blinked, finally looking up, only to shove Lucien off herself and drunkenly run forward. She hurled herself into the arms of the first figure. “Cassian!” she cried with relief.

“Are you okay?” Her boyfriend's voice was urgent. “How’d you get all the way out here?”

“We got lost,” she wept deliriously.

“Soso lost,” Lucien slurred from behind her.

Off to the side, she heard the familiar eternally-exhausted sigh of Azriel, second-in-command of the 33rd Imperial Legion. “I’ll take that one home,” his deep voice muttered. He gestured with his chin to Lucien.

He moved to hold the fae male upright, but Lucien smacked Azriel’s arms away. “Get your ’ands off me, Ihaveagirlfriend.”

Cassian bundled Nesta up in his arms and swept her off her aching feet. “Can you handle flying, or are you gonna be sick?”

“Uhnnn…” Her head was still throbbing and spinning, but her stomach had already been emptied out into those bushes. “I’m okay,” she lied. “Take me home, Cass.”

He still looked concerned, but was about to shoot into the sky when Nesta gasped, “Wait, my shoes!”

In the background, Lucien was now poking at the toned bicep of the arm keeping him upright. “Woah there, big guy,” he said. “You single or somethin’?”

“You just said you have a girlfriend.”

“Well, we're lookin’ foraboyfriend.”

Before Azriel could respond, Cassian gritted his teeth and called for him.

“Get her shoes,” Cassian gestured. Without letting go of Lucien, Azriel bent to pick up Nesta's heels and turned and walked the both of them back to where Cassian and Nesta waited.

Nesta gratefully accepted her heels and rested them on her stomach, so her hand was free to reach out and rest on Lucien’s face. It was more of a light slap, but the affection was there. “’m so glad we did this,” she said, sleep and liquor weaved through her words.

“So am I,” Lucien mumbled tiredly. He leaned in with a kiss aimed for her forehead, which ended up glancing off the side of her nose. “See you.”

“Bye-bye,” she said quietly, and then Lucien and Azriel were off in the opposite direction, and Cassian and Nesta were in the air.

***

Back in the warmth of their apartment, Cassian helped Nesta stumble toward the bedroom, pulling her away from the living area before she could collapse onto the couch and not get up again.

Herding Nesta onto the bed, Cassian got to work on shimmying her minidress down her body. “You’ve had quite the night,” he noted as he pulled off her dress and reached to unhook her pushup bra. “Good birthday?”

“Would’ve been even better with you,” Nesta said sweetly. His heart caught at the sleepy smile she gave him, and he cursed the ring weighing down his pocket for the hundredth time that day. He would have to wait for the right moment— again.

Nesta started babbling drunkenly about how fun her night had been, and then how terrible it had become, and how much more she liked Lucien now, even if he did have terrible ideas, before eventually circling back around to the topic of presents. “I can’t wait to show you what I got.” She tried winking at him, but in her state, it was just a very slow blink.

Cassian had indeed spied a red scrap of lace sticking out of a gift bag on his way through the living room, but lingerie was the last concern on his mind right now. “I’m glad you had fun with Lucien,” he said honestly as he eased Nesta into one of his T-shirts.

“Will you get me his gift?” she yawned. “It’s the soft…” she struggled for the word, “big fishy. Go get it, Cass.”

Chuckling lowly, Cassian dutifully searched the living room until he spotted a freakishly life-sized stuffed dolphin. When he returned to their bedroom with it in tow, Nesta was dead asleep.

Carefully, he tucked the plush dolphin next to her head before covering her with a throw blanket.

Yes, Cassian had ended up being the only person who hadn't given Nesta a present— not her real present, anyway. But perhaps it was for the best, he thought as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her sore feet into his lap. Nothing about the woman in front of him was worth rushing, and as long as she was happy tonight, tomorrow, and all the days after…

Well, what more could Cassian want for?

***

taglist: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool

[ppangjae]

made to fall in love | seven

SERIES MASTERLIST

prev | seven | next

SUMMARY. Seoul’s finest 30 under 30. The country’s youngest billionaire. 2019′s richest bachelor. But of all the women he could go after, he goes after… her?

GENRE. fluff and angst | ceo!jaehyun | nerd!reader | enemies to lovers!au | long lost friend!au

WORD COUNT. 2.1k+ words

warnings. tooth-rotting fluff, swearing, and tons of bickering!

author’s note. just wanted to remind you guys that this series will be updated every Thursday! let’s get this bread :-)

SEVEN. boy • tell me how you feel

Not long ago…

“We have a couple of applicants who passed the first round of assessment.”

The HR department head, Donghyuck, lays out four folders of different colours right in front of Jaehyun. He scans the folders one by one before starting with the first folder on his left. As he opens the folder, he purses his lips into a tight line. 

“His resume is too plain,” he criticizes. “It’s lacking experience and variety.”

Donghyuck barely utters a word as Jaehyun is handing him back the first folder. He moves onto the next one, and Donghyuck stands there, awkwardly. “Sir, the majority of the HR department has been wondering why you’re looking for a new structural engineer—”

“This applicant’s resume is great, but a little too perfect. Besides, Jung Architects is a company built with perfectionists but another perfectionist makes it too many.” He cuts the HR head off and hands him the second folder. As he reaches out for the third applicant’s folder, he decides to answer him. “I think we need a new structural engineer. Wooyoung has been slacking lately and you know I hate slackers. He’s getting pretty old too, don’t you think? He should start planning his retirement.”

Donghyuck frowns. But Wooyoung never slacks? All he can remember is seeing Wooyoung barging out of his office with anger blowing up his face into a deep red. The next day, he sees him walking out of the building with a box packed with his things. “Oh, is that so, sir?”

Jaehyun hums in reply. “I think we need someone new, someone refreshing. Don’t you think?”

“I—Well, the final decision is up to you, sir. My input doesn’t really matter—” 

He grins. “Exactly. Now, this applicant can move on for the interview. I don’t need to look at the fourth applicant, I think I’ve found the perfect one.”

“E-Excuse me?” Donghyuck asks, completely taken off guard. He eyes the last folder on Jaehyun’s right that’s been left untouched. He’s surprised that Jaehyun barely even touched it, not even sparing it a single glance. 

“I said what I said,” he shrugs his shoulders. “I have many other things to do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be getting back to work.”

Donghyuck stares at him as he gets up from his seat and hands him the folder before leaving the meeting room. He looks over his shoulder to get one last glance at Jaehyun. He tilts his head in confusion.

“What’s so special about this applicant?” Donghyuck asks himself as he opens the folder that Jaehyun chose. His eyes scan the resume. “Y/N, not much experience, worked at only one company since graduating university, won many awards during her undergrad, studied at the most prestigious university in the country, specifically for mathematics, physics, and architecture.”

He closes the folder and feels his eyebrows knit together in thought.

“But why does her name sound so familiar?”

There’s a knock at the door. Startled, his head snaps at the door.

“By the way, do you mind sending me an extra copy of that applicant’s folder?” Jaehyun nods his head at the folder in Donghyuck’s hands.

He nods his head vigorously. “Y-Yes, sir. I’ll forward and send it to your email.”

Jaehyun smiles.

“Perfect.”

“Are these our new interns and engineers?”

All of the newly hired interns and engineers turn around to face him. His eyes scan each and every one of the new hirees before his eyes land on you. His hard, strict gaze softens at the sight of you fiddling with your fingers.

“Yes, Mr. Jung.”

He smiles and just in time, he looks away when you glance at him. He approaches the small group of hirees, matching their names on their ID cards to their faces. Once he stops in front of you, he looks down at your name tag. Y/N. A smile threatens to spread across his lips. He can feel his heart do cartwheels.

Jaehyun’s always been fascinated by you. Your resume stood out from all the applicants. Your sense of style is completely different from all of your coworkers. You’re out of touch with the current fashion trends but it’s probably because you don’t focus on your outer appearance. You mainly shine from within and through your dedication to your work. Jaehyun hired you for many reasons aside from your resume. 

You remind him of someone special.

You remind him of someone he used to know.

You are someone he used to know. 

He raises an eyebrow. “Y/N?”

You nod your head vigorously. “Yes, sir.”

“Welcome to the company. I remember seeing your resume. You stood out the most from all of our applicants. I can’t wait to work with you.” He compliments you and you look at him in shock.

“Thank you, sir. I will work hard.” You smile at him.

Just before he moves onto the next hiree, he stops and looks at you one last time. He has so many things he wants to tell you. He wants to hug you. He wants to tell you all of the countries he’s travelled to. He wants to tell you all of the good things that have happened since he started building up his own future. 

“This is completely out of context but you share the same name as my childhood friend.” He adds, watching your eyes widen like saucers. 

Not now. He can’t let you find out now. 

“S-Sorry?” You stutter.

He smiles. “I have a childhood friend that shares the same name as you. Her name is Y/N.”

Present day…

It’s an emergency meeting, is what you remember Johnny telling you the moment you’re left in a room all by yourself. You feel like you’ve been kidnapped. You nervously fiddle with your fingers. 

“What kind of emergency meeting is this?” You mutter to yourself. 

Seconds and minutes begin to pass and you’re starting to wonder if Johnny forgot about you. You’re starting to grow anxious and jittery. You’re tapping your foot against the floor, getting up from your seat to open the blinds to allow sunlight to come through. While you’re opening the blinds, you hear the door open and your name being called out. 

You freeze up. 

“Y/N?”

You turn around to see Jaehyun standing at the door. He looks at you as if he’s in a sudden daze. There’s no stress or anger lingering on his face. 

“Sir.” A small smile begins to form on your lips. 

His eyebrows raise, as if he’s taken aback. “Y/N.”

The second time he says your name, you can read his mind. But somehow, you still feel unsure. He says it in a way that it feels and sounds familiar to him. 

You clear your throat. “Is there a reason why you wanted to see me, sir?”

He snaps out of it. “Yes. Have you seen the news this morning?”

“Y-Yes?” It comes out as a question.

“Great. I called you in for a meeting with me because I just want to make sure you are safe. Jia Park of Park and Co. Architects is wound up in an imposter scandal involving the usage of your name.” He explains. “The press are going to speculate whether Jia has been trying to steal your identity but until we find out Jia’s true motive, we have to stay alert, especially you.”

“But, sir—”

“I’m not sure why she planned on stealing your identity, but it is what it is.” He cuts you off, avoiding your gaze. “There’s nothing we can do about it.”

You wish you could laugh. Does he not know who you are? Is he playing pretend? You’re standing right in front of him, after your true self has been laid out in front of him. What kind of tricks is he pulling? Is this all a game to him? What is going on in that mind of his? What are you supposed to feel?

“So… you know who I am?” You ask and it seems like a stupid question but it has different answers.

You’re Y/N. You’re Jeong Jaehyun’s childhood friend. You’re the little girl he grew up with. You formed a strong bond with him. You, along with Johnny, were his only friends. 

But you’re also Y/N, who is nothing but an employee who works under Jeong Jaehyun. He can simply pretend like he doesn’t know who you are, but for what?

It just didn’t make sense. He has to know who you are now. Jia has been exposed of pretending to be you, therefore, you’re the childhood friend Jaehyun has been looking for. Why would he pretend?

He purses his lips into a line. It takes him a while to answer you.

“Of course,” he nods his head. He hesitates before saying, “You’re Y/N, the structural engineer of Jung Architects.”

You stop yourself from letting out a scoff.

To him, you’re Y/N, the structural engineer of Jung Architects.

It’s crystal clear to you, he surely has something planned. 

You feel like you’ve been let down. You feel disappointed. But at the same time, you feel angry, you can feel your blood boil. It’s painfully obvious who you are and how you’re related to him, but why is he still oblivious? He can’t be oblivious. He’s pretending—

“You’re pretending.” You blurt out.

He raises an eyebrow. “Me? Pretending?”

“Drop the act. You’re pretending that you don’t know who I am, Jaehyun—”

“Sir?”

He looks over his shoulder to see his receptionist peeking her head through the door. “Yes?”

“Your father’s on the phone. He wants to speak with you. It’s urgent.” 

He glances at you. You look heartbroken. He clears his throat. “Excuse me.”

He can’t tell you. He can’t let you know. There are so many things holding him back. There are so many things that can be put to risk, with you being one of them.

“You’ve changed.”

He hears you say softly with his back facing you. He stops himself from looking at you over his shoulder. He hears you let out a scoff.

“I’m disappointed in you, Jaehyun.”

Not long ago...

“What are they doing?”

“It seems more like a business meeting rather than a father-daughter dinner.”

Jungwoo hears Jaehyun let out a soft chuckle through his earpiece. He stabs a slice of his medium rare steak with his fork before shoving it into his mouth. Seated a couple of tables away, he watches Jia Park and her father engage in what seems like a secretive conversation. 

“It was a stupid decision of them to be having this business meeting at a public restaurant,” Jungwoo snorts. “I can hear them.”

“What are they talking about?”

“Who else would they be talking about?” Jungwoo quirks an eyebrow. “You, of course. They’re after you and your business. You’re filthy rich and they want all of it.”

“What’s their plan?” Jaehyun questions.

“Stop rushing me, I’m trying to pick up the details of their conversation. I’ll call you back when they leave.” 

“Don’t forget—”

“I never forget, Jaehyun.” Jungwoo cuts him off, feeling slightly offended. He pouts. “Well, maybe there was that one time—”

“Just call me when they leave.”

“Jaehyun—” Jungwoo hisses until he hears him hang up on him.

Jungwoo sighs, continuing to finish his dinner that’s been prepaid by Jaehyun himself. He adjusts the tightness of his tie, making sneaky glances at the two every now and then. Looking down at his phone, he makes a double-check to see if their conversation is still recording.

Just as he finishes his plate, he calls the waiter to order himself a nice glass of wine. As the waiter takes his order and leaves him to wait, he hears a familiar name rolling off the tip of Jia’s tongue.

Y/N?

“Do you have a backup plan in case they find out that you’re not her?”

“Who? Y/N?”

The middle-aged man chuckles. “Who else do you think I’m talking about?”

Jia places her fork and knife on the sides of her plate. She clasps her hands together and leans back against her chair. “Of course. Uncle Wooyoung has great connections.”

“Smart. I guess I raised you well.”

Jungwoo squints his eyes in suspicion. As their conversation gets deeper and deeper, Jungwoo leaves his glass of wine untouched. The two of them pay their bill and leave a huge tip for the waitress. Jungwoo makes sure not to blow his cover when he makes eye contact with Jia’s father.

The waitress comes to pick up their payment and she lets out a huge gasp when she sees how much they’ve tipped her. Right when they leave the restaurant, Jungwoo falls back against his chair in disbelief. 

Goosebumps. He feels goosebumps all over his arms.

He immediately makes the phone call.

“What happened, Jungwoo?”

“We need to talk, Jaehyun, I—”

“What do you mean?” Jaehyun laughs.

“Things aren’t looking too good.”

author’s note. thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed this short update. as i said in the author’s note at the beginning of this chapter, i will be updating this series every Thursday! 

tag list: (if you want to be included in the tag list, please send me a message through my askbox!)

@riverdale-kpop @cupofjae @jae-canikeepyou @crystxlkpop @befikel @justineasian @frankenstein852 @mymonbebecarat127heart @hoshitaro @ilymarkchan @hyluvjk @fantasircle @yourchasingsunsetslove @jae-bam @starryhyun​ @kriselynne @jaeismytamtation​ @etaerealboy​ @irrelevxntstxr @johnnyseosabs​ @jaeveil​ @doublepeace 

[bilbao-song]

heres an ask because i too am desperate to engage with people. i know u dont care about roxy music but you did say you would accept something as incoherent as a keysmash so here is an equivalent: admittedly i find the dynamics between ANY band and their fans very interesting, but roxy music in particular. there is a peculiar divide between those who are staunch bryan ferry fans (these people typically dont give half of a shit about anyone else in the band), those who are fans of the group as a whole and dont particularly care about individual members at all, and those who are most interested in phil manzanera and andy mackay and sometimes the other guys, who generally quite dislike bryan (i being the latter)- and often there is resentment between the groups. i think its so interesting that a group of people can be presented with the same exact material, love it and enjoy it for years, and yet latch onto different parts of it and make it such a part of their identity that should you confuse one with the other they become insulted, or if nothing else will tell you "no no, i like roxy music but i REALLY like bryan, i think hes the best", or "no no, i love roxy music and im a fan of andy and phil in particular but i dont care for byran much at all, dont get it twisted", etc. are there bands you're more familiar with who have this sort of divide amongst the fanbase? do tell me about them, if you like :>

first of all i absolutely love that u sent this ksdhgkshg this is like. exactly the kind of thing i wanted

sorry for taking 39485949 years to post this lmao. i wrote like FIVE entire paragraphs and then had to edit it but it was getting super late and anyway it’s still absurdly long (as in, i can say whatever i want in the below text bc no one is going to want to read it) and definitely devolved into a huge general rant about the annoying and creepy behaviors of some people within band fanbases (specifically ELO-related bc of course) as well as vagueing about my own controversial opinions but......nonetheless.

anyway!!! i find this kind of thing really interesting too!! and i know EXACTLY what you’re talking about. there are just sooo many facets to this, and i guess it’s different for every band. on the one hand i do think it’s kind of an interesting phenomenon bc if you think about it, they’re basically enjoying the same thing but taking wildly different/opposing stances on it. as a whole i would find it a lot more interesting/amusing and less frustrating if people could like...manage these kinds of differences without turning it into some kind of overly vitriolic/super hostile opposition that you would think is about politics or something and not a band we r supposed to be listening to for entertainment purposes. i mean, i 100% get that things don’t have to be Extremely Important to be worth discussing, but it just seems wild the way some people get SO intensely angry about these things, sometimes to the point of being kind of inappropriate. i have a lot of issues with the way some people within band fanbases tend to behave lol

.......anyway the Full Rant is below here (idk why i wrote this bc it’s long enough to be turned in for a grade and it’s only partially relevant. read at ur own risk):

so!! thankfully with most bands i enjoy i just kind of watch the fanbase from the sidelines and don't get too involved in or even aware of all the drama. like...i know about the band and enjoy the music but just manage to not get involved in whatever the community happens to be collectively freaking out about at any given moment. i feel like the kind of divide you mentioned is actually pretty common within band fanbases (i think there are things like this with like...styx and three dog night? among others? but i don't know all the details 👀) but like, FORTUNATELY with most of them i just would not know. that's very nice because i unfortunately do not always have that kind of luxury with the ELO fanbase...idk i have a lot of very strong ELO-related opinions that i usually don't like to discuss in great detail bc i get disproportionately frustrated but yeah basically what you described does kind of happen among ELO fans, although thankfully i'd say it's to a somewhat lesser extent? people are commonly at each other's throats about a variety of topics including (but not limited to) who they support or don't support, but there are still plenty of people who (thankfully) are not so aggressive lmao. there is sort of a divide within the fanbase but i feel like it's probably not so 50/50 as what you're talking about...maybe more like 85/15

THAT SAID, i have frequently commented on the fact that the ELO fanbase is largely a dumpster fire and there is a whole entire sector of the fanbase that is comprised of people who i absolutely cannot stand, and most of them do fight a lot lmao. this is only partially related to the subject at hand, but a good portion of the bickering is relevant to The Divide. like, i'm 100% okay with having a different opinion than someone else as long as they aren't acting like a complete freak about it, but idk, aside from the fact that most of these people are like?? needlessly aggressive?? there are certain opinions held by certain members of the Greater ELO Community that just give me that vibe of like...hmmmm this is a person i probably would not want to associate with at all, even in matters completely unrelated to this. Unsavory Person Vibes. i mean like, “opinions” that just boil down to "i am very very entitled and also incapable of seeing anyone else's perspective on literally anything ever BUT that isn't going to stop me from openly whining about this absolutely whenever possible." like!! it's one thing to have some kind of legitimate, reasonable criticism of an individual or band but some, if not most, of the things i've seen people losing their minds over within this fanbase have been so hilariously trivial that i just CANNOT understand how these people actually managed to get to be (presumably) functional adults who are probably like 50+ years old. i mean like, full-blown tantrums and calling someone all sorts of nasty things over something that shouldn't even be an issue because without exaggerating i cannot fathom how anyone could even be majorly upset about it in the first place. to give an example: someone once had a whole entire little strongly-worded, excessively presumptuous freakout because a guitar was no longer on loan to the rock and roll hall of fame. like...it was there for quite awhile and two out of four inductees loaned absolutely nothing but you're whining because one who DID loan something eventually took it back? do we not know what the word "loan" means? anyway the best part is that basically every time something like this happens, if someone tries to point out that the person is overreacting or perhaps just needs to look at a situation another way, they will then go off on that person bc god forbid we try to be level-headed about things. everything has to be Very Horrible All The Time or we’re doing something wrong or being stupid or something. idk i'm convinced that some people just want to be angry

also just...some of these people do some really shady things that i personally feel are morally questionable but there's nothing i can do about it so i try to just kind of avoid dwelling on it lmfao. like, it's not okay to violate people's privacy just because they're famous and you're overly entitled/nosy/desperate for clout/blatantly trying to profit off of them? i know in the Sane World that's a completely non-controversial idea but band fanbases apparently often aren't based on sanity skhglkshgks idk i could probably write a small novel on this and make a specific list of all the things they do that are just like...bafflingly tone deaf and kind of appalling but i digress. idk the worst part to me is the way they'll be like, saying/doing something that's just awful or like, maybe even totally factually wrong while acting like they're in the right. absolutely wild

to at least somewhat bring this back to what we were ATTEMPTING to talk about!!! personally i've reached a point where i pretty much no longer care about like 90% of anyone who has ever been in ELO (jeffrey/richard/roy/mike de albuquerque supremacy) but i'm not like, actively a Hater of the others lmao. i appreciate that they were there and enjoy the nostalgia(? i wasn’t alive) of it and i’m glad they’re out there existing but i just...don’t really care about anything they do at this point?? a good portion of it is a result of me taking issue with certain things some of them have done, which has impacted the way i feel about them, but MOST of it is really not that deep and it’s just that some of them just don't particularly interest me on that kind of level/i don't feel the need to get that invested in like 927509257 different people (fun fact: during the 1970s every third person in existence on earth was, at least briefly, a member of ELO). there's really only one ELO-adjacent person who i actually very strongly dislike and a) luckily i feel like they barely even count as a member b) the reasoning is kind of its own Thing and has very very very little to do with anything related to the band so it's kind of another subject entirely. anyway that’s as close as i’ll ever get to actually getting involved with any of the Drama sgsdgsdgfhdh. my primary beef is with the fanbase anyway because, as previously mentioned, there are too many insane people. i guess what i’m getting at here is that yeah there’s a divide and it does affect me BUT i also don’t really get why people allow this to make them act in a way that goes beyond just having a difference in opinion and is so overly hostile towards each other as well as the people they’re discussing. like...if anyone involved is a serial killer or something even remotely similar then yeah, being outraged on an extreme level and absolutely hating them even as an outsider makes sense. otherwise? calm down!!!!!

anyway. to wrap up this mostly incoherent rant that i hope no one read: i have always suspected that band fandoms kind of attract certain kinds of very distressingly weird people and i just think it's funny how there's always like, a little cluster of people within the fanbase who basically seem like they actually hate the band (those are almost always the Weird Ones bc i can’t tell you how many times i’ve witnessed a person who is like, into a band to a CREEPY extent and then one day they just flip and become a hater). at that point i'm just like, okay? so why are you still here lmfao. i guess that's the Main Idea of all of this lol. i just don't get why these people stick around when 98% of all they ever do is complain and act overly judgy? i just feel like if my so-called favorite band was making me that miserable i would try to find another band to like instead of becoming a menace to society. that’s just me tho

to bring all of this together i guess i just assume that some kind of phenomenon like this occurs within basically every band fanbase. idk it just seems pretty universal for some reason. certain kinds of people just love drama i guess and will turn any difference of opinion into some kind of shitshow

tl;dr: yes

[savethelastdan]

Sesskagu

As the taste strokes my tongue

Thawed is the frozen past

Sweeping over me

Your scars a memory of my affection

The deeper the wound

The fonder my love

The “modern” time, Kagura decides, is boring as hell. 

All the same sins exist in this world - the suffering, the greed, and most of all that desperate clawing for power that paves the streets in blood - and yet, it’s as though someone’s wrung all the color out of it. A life of gray. 

It’s a life, at least, she sighs to herself, jumping from circle to circle of light that the streetlamps paint along the corridor. One that’s more my own than the last. 

Because though there’s a pocket-knife and taser in her purse instead of a fan, and she’s alone this time, having been abandoned by her parents at a temple; and there’s black ink shrouding every inch of skin that her past self would have worn the spider-mark on - 

With every thud of a new heart in her chest, Kagura knows that she’s the same as she ever was. 

She pauses to rest, wincing at the pinch of the too-small shoes against her heels. Her body in this round of living is weaker than the last, and she’s lost the power of flight. But even that is not as painful as the grief that sings within her when the wind runs itself through her hair, and she knows it is not her place to wield it anymore; still, she is not alone in that loss. With the variety of weapons at the humans’ disposal in these times, demons have all but been destroyed or chased away. Perhaps it is a blessing that she cannot locate demonic power inside this version of herself, or else Kagura would suffer again - simply through different means. 

With a sharp swear that echoes throughout the street, she starts walking again. Another figure on the opposite side of the road, just far enough that she can’t make out any of their features, slows as she approaches. Kagura’s hands fold into fists automatically, and she lifts her chin in a clear signal. Don’t fuck with me, pal. I’m not the girl to mess with. 

As they get closer to one another, a burst of cold air rushes past her. It twists her dress to send chills up both legs. She comes to a sharp stop, as the wind’s message rings in her ears. Clear as the lamp’s glow in the night: 

Look.  

The other figure stops too, both hands in their pockets, and twists to face her. Kagura’s heart shudders; for the first time in her new life, she is startled to be reminded of the organ’s presence. 

What on earth...

Night’s shadows pull away from the man’s face, and the rest of the world melts away with them. Kagura has the faint sense of her purse slipping from her shoulder, landing on the concrete with a solid thud. On the other side of the street, Sesshomaru stares back with no less surprise. 

He’s too far away for her to hear, but she sees his lips form her name. The shadows shift, and a pain rips through her chest at the splotches of purple and maroon on his face. 

It takes him only a second to fully turn in her direction. By that time, Kagura’s scooped her purse from the ground and taken off down the street, the heels of her shoes cutting deep into her ankles. 

-

It’s no surprise that he finds her; after all, she had no reason to think this life would be fair to her, either. 

That doesn’t mean that Kagura makes it easy for him. Leaping out the second-story window of the hostel and skinning both knees (and all of the screaming her stupid coworkers do over it) is worth the few days it gives her to mentally process the whole thing. By the time Sesshomaru finally hunts her down again (at the overhang in her favorite park, where she likes to go and people-watch some evenings) Kagura has any of those inconsequential feelings left over from before locked up nice and tight. 

Although, she’d only been able to prepare on the pretense that Sesshomaru is also the exact same as he always was. So, when he sits on the bench next to her and breathes her name in a tone that she never would have imagined was possible, it does catch Kagura a bit off guard. 

“I did not expect to see you again,” he states plainly. 

"Trust me, the feeling’s mutual.” Crossing both arms over her chest, she bites her tongue hard to hold back the litany of questions on her mind - does he still have the sword? Is he alone, and if so, how long has it been? What does he mean, that he didn’t expect it - in the obvious way, or in the way that means he’s wondered?

Gold eyes shift in her direction. “I never would have thought you’d run.” 

Pain - the ghost of a killing blow, one that time patched up but couldn’t undo - heats the skin beneath her blouse. “I didn’t know there were any demons in this time.” 

His jaw softens, and she’s horrifically confused because of course he had to have noticed - the body holding her soul is nothing like his own, her blood sapped of all power. She thought it was a bearable fate, but now...sitting here with someone whose aura still burns with an energy that Kagura recognizes a hundred years after the first time... 

She hunches, feeling sick with jealousy. 

At her obvious discomfort, Sesshomaru leans away an inch. After an excruciating few moments of silence, he speaks again. 

“Are you happier this time?” 

Sheer force of will prevents her from falling off the bench into the grass. “Why do you care?” 

He frowns, and the familiarity of it is a slight comfort, though his next words quickly send her heart back into fierce palpitations.

“Because I have always wondered.” 

“Oh.” She pretends to scratch one ear, trying to hide the stupid blush that this stupid human face wears much too easily. “Well, it’s okay, I guess. Some parts, anyway.” 

The response is a loosening of his shoulders so sharp that it makes her own back ache. 

“It’s a bit lonely, though,” she finds herself saying. “It’d be nice to catch up with someone from the old days.”  Idiot, idiot, idiot -

But Sesshomaru doesn’t look disgusted at the idea, not even when Kagura starts coughing in a manner that only poison could have wrought in her former demon self. Instead, he is almost too quick to agree to her suggestion that they go get something to drink. 

And, after several hours in a coffee shop filling in the gaps of between the past and the present, it’s his idea for him to walk her back to the shitty apartment where she’s staying. 

It’s him who grips her arms before they reach her door, with a balance of firmness and gentleness that should make her suspicious that he’s done this kind of thing before and yet she’s not really all that interested in hearing about it. 

“I am glad,” he says, as seriously as she can remember him saying anything, “that time has given you another chance.” 

And it’s so ridiculous, because Kagura knows that he’s wrong - she should be angry with time! Furious that it separated her from the wind, that it didn’t give her riches and endless comforts, that it sapped her power while allowing Sesshomaru to keep his even though it’s not like he even deserves it -

"I don’t know,” she retorts, gripping his jacket collar with both hands to keep him there. “I think I deserve more.” 

Crashing their mouths together hurts; not just because she maybe could have used a bit more finesse, but also because it brings everything rushing back. Just like when she first noticed him on the other side of the street, all of the past’s feelings reverberate through her in a breath-taking echo, reminding Kagura of centuries worth of yearning. 

Perhaps she’s been running from it. Perhaps he brought it here. Regardless, as Sesshomaru’s hands grip her waist and pull her closer, Kagura swears to herself that, human or not, she won’t accept less than she deserves ever again. 

[breaddaerb]

What do you think the agents {of your choice} would do to try and calm another agent down if they were upset?

[ valorant headcannons VI ]

✎↷: thanks for this, anon! i am going to go. HAM. a thanks and credit to @itisi-james for contributing so many valuable ideas about sage and viper with me in the middle of the night :D in this post, i’m gonna write more about relationships between characters instead of just a broader topic, so here we go!

if i get anything incorrect or something that requires criticism and tweaks, let me know!

sage and skye

sage doesn’t get upset often. it’s not because she’s softer and easier than anyone else, but as her teachings and guidance have influenced her, forgiveness and patience stem from the core of her thoughts. all she asks is that someone listens and understands her views and her points and respects it without having others try to deny her of her thoughts and mind. a friend and equal on all fronts who does not belittle her or raise her for what she does and how she does it.

skye is the best person for this. she and sage’s history extend beyond the valorant protocol during a time of skye’s development into becoming a much more positively-reinforced character, and sage learning the ways of letting her hair down and taking it easy. she is a familiar face in a crowd of unknown, and the two friends are close enough to the point of best friends, as healers and those who view the world similarly. she’s the first person sage goes to when she is upset or frustrated, and the australian accommodates her the best way she can.

what we should know about sage is that she is self-critical and progressive, always taking the opportunity for self-betterment and analysis. she is aware that she’ll never be fully prepared for what her occupation with the valorant protocol, nor will she always be fully ahead of herself, so she takes the extra steps to enforce that she will be able to conquer it when it arrives, failure of not. this method of thinking has paired with carefully tracked meditation and a keep on her thoughts and beliefs, and sage operates within herself and relies on rational judgement and thinking to get her through.

skye is.. a bit of the opposite. she is laid-back and emotional, but doesn’t worry so much into the future as she does stay in the present. skye isn’t passive all the time and instead she uses the thoughts of those she loves and cares for to clear her head, and utilizes a less-tempered judgement to come up with better solutions for issues that come her way. she prepares less for what comes to her but at the ends of it, both healers build a firm foundation of skill sets to use in their everyday lives.

so when sage announces that she is upset to skye, raspy in her doorway, the australian is languid as she invites the healer to join her by the edge of her bed. skye knows sage as well as she knows herself, and she places her cup of tea into sage’s arms as welcoming to talk. she knows sage is more than capable of solving her own issues, so advice is never really necessary unless the monk asks for it, and they spend the evening together working out the drinks of their days while staring at the lush community garden (it’s actually sage and skye’s garden, but all are free to enter) through her window.

this method of stress-relieving and re-learning how to breath is a technique that both healers go to, and what they’ll provide for anyone who asks. sometimes, if the time is right, the healers indulge themselves and each other in a needed spa day and sit back with the door to whatever room they’re in locked.

killjoy and raze

it isn’t hard to tell when raze is mad. she throws a tantrum and storms off to her room, preferring loneliness over fights and seeing her friends get angry at each other, and killjoy is the one that rushes over as soon as she catches wind of her friend’s emotional peril. killjoy is not your emotional support, and hasn’t she said anything on those lines that suggest anything so empathetic as to proclaim that, but raze carries importance to her despite her wishes to lower personal attachments to anyone within the protocol.

look. i know people hc a lot of different things about killjoy, but in my hcs, she reigns as a childish adult who acts by the means of survival and seeing through that her abilities and her machines work themselves out. she is innovative and progressive, but narcissistic and cruel (not upfront— snarky, peppy kind of way) to those who stand in her way. she can’t take no for an answer because she knows her worth and what she carries, and is insensitive to the way others feel about her and what she does.

raze takes the edge off of it for killjoy. things aren’t serious and don’t have to be with the brazilian woman, and as tinkerers and inventors, killjoy respects raze’s bots in the way where they too are improvements, though ones killjoy won’t use herself. but for the times when raze is going through rough patches, the engineer will be by her friend’s side within moments. there isn’t a lot she can do to reassure her, so often times killjoy will end up entertaining the a variety of her projects and providing her with more sources for.. explosions, as regrettably as it sounds.

the engineer will also spoil her with junk food that definitely isn’t allowed under protocol standards, which is a rule that killjoy has long placed aside when it comes to taking care of her demolitionist friend. she’ll also order the entire menu of mcdonald’s if it comes down to it, but raze hasn’t had that bad of a melt down in a long time. it’s terrifying to see how many orders of fries raze is willing to shove down her throat while playing a version of bootleg roblox off of her laptop.