#but maybe someone somewhere will get something out of it

[fishnapple]

People's first impression of you

This reading is about how people in general will perceive you at first impression. Which might not be true to how you really are. People's perception are easily skewed by their own biases and experiences, so take it with a grain of salt. You may use this to compare to your perception of yourself and see the similarities and differences so you might take action to align them better.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

CUBE 1

• Your presence unsettles people on first sight. They don't usually see this kind of energy often. It's foreign and distant, out of reach. Even if you don't do or wear anything out of the ordinary, your energy is different from the people around you. Unsettling is because some people can feel uncomfortable with the unknown, they don't know how to act or react to the differences.

• Yet people can feel like you're someone they've already seen somewhere, especially in their childhood. You remind them of their distant memories, nostalgic, fuzzy, magical.

• Soft and kind looking, but not too easy to approach.

• Different people will form different impressions of you. Each person sees a different image of you. Some can be wildly different from each other.

• They may think you do something related to art, artistic, and creative.

• Good self-control, you seem to be the kind that doesn't get angry easily, and you keep your opinions for yourself. You don't seek to control other, the only one you control is yourself. But you know how to protect your beliefs and your values when challenged.

• Honest, pure intentions, don't like to meddle in other's business but will help with all you can if asked.

• Private, quite closed-off. You don't speak about yourself much or at least about matters that are personal. People find it hard to read your emotions and thoughts from the first meeting. They get a sense that to get close to you emotionally, to get you to trust them, to get a peek at your deeper affection, they have to try harder and be serious and patient.

• But you don't seem to have problems with being yourself in public. You can be witty, charming, a little detached. Having a few pleasant exchanges with you is easy, going deeper is not.

• Some people would want to form friendship with you immediately, wanting to get closer, to understand you better. This could make you uncomfortable sometimes, being the target of people's curiosity.

CUBE 2

• Mysterious and mysterious. People feel like you will take them away, into an unknown path full of twists and turns. What they see is not what they get. There's so much more hidden underneath that they want to uncover. Which may feel invasive at times.

• The impressions can be polar opposites. Love and hate, attraction and repulsion, safe and scary. But it's definitely not mild.

• Mysterious but still approachable enough, people will feel an urge to get closer.

• People think you are a spiritual person, someone who practices occult crafts, or at least interested in those fields. Someone who likes a good mystery, darker, taboo subjects.

• You seem to value different things. Your definition of what is valuable might not align with theirs.

• This may sound uncomfortable, but some people will wonder in their mind, quietly, about your sexual preferences. Are you a passive or an aggressive person? Are you passionate or cold?

• Beautiful hands and voice. Something about your voice seems different, a little odd, unique, memorable.

• You don't seem to have a good sense of money. Maybe you're forgetful or spend money on things that are considered unnecessary or odd by other people. People get the impression that you are flexible with money and generous. You don't mind spending on things and on people you love, you don't put too much weight on material possessions, things come and go, if you lose some, you will gain some. That's the impression that people have of you.

• You have a large well of knowledge at your expenses. You learn things quickly. In fact, learning seems to be an easy thing for you, something that you don't have to put too much effort into to get good results. Information flows smoothly, absorbed and moulded into unique perspectives.

• Some people can sense that you are hiding some difficulties, pains, or a hurtful past inside, but you're not ready to reveal them to anyone.

• People feel you're someone who has been well disciplined since childhood, which has made you behave in a very proper and restrained manner. Very strong boundaries. Some might think that your silent and mysterious manner is, in fact, just a cover for some social anxiety. That you're not ready to show yourself fully.

CUBE 3

• Nervous energy. You don't seem calm at first impression. You want to be constantly on the move, changing things.

• You might have an oblivious and detached look, the look of someone who is tired of the world around them, someone who is not too attached to anything.

• People might notice that you have a worried look on your face. Something is constantly bothering your mind and they don't know if they can have a place in there. And if they do, they don't know if they can stay for long. You seem like someone who's always ready to leave people and things behind in chasing a distant dream.

• Commitment is there, but not to them, but to something else. You might trigger abandonment issues in some people. Those who are more down to earth, who prize loyalty and groundness, might not feel at ease with you. Your energy is too fast for their comfort.

• This can also make people wonder what it will be like if they do get your attention and commitment. Because the idea of it is so elusive, it becomes even more desirable.

• People might question your age, you look young for your age.

• The way you communicate is fascinating but can be confusing. You might jump from topic to topic seamlessly, which can be quite hard to keep up with. Maybe you even purposefully (or just obliviously) left out some crucial details in your story that can give off a totally different impression. People might frequently ask you to clarify your words.

• You seem close to one of your parents, but at the same time, there's a desire to break away. To stand on your own.

• Some people can sense a desire for acknowledgement. You want people to see your talents and creativity just like how you see yourself. I think they do believe in you, they believe that you can achieve great things from the sheer intensity of your being. Some people are well-known for their contributions, their help given to other people, while you, people can sense that just by being yourself, people will gravitate towards you.

• You seem to be popular, someone who knows a lot of people and has a lot of acquaintances and friends.

CUBE 4

• Stern, intense. Someone who is in their power, their own authority. Someone who is so confident and so sure of themselves that other people's opinions can't sway them.

• They think that you know exactly where you want to go, what your life's trajectory is, and they can see that you're actively pursuing it. A clear vision and an active drive.

• People might assume you're in an authoritative position. They might even subconsciously feel an urge to submit, to give the power of decision to you. Because somehow they can feel that you're a trustworthy person. As someone who knows their life so well, you sure can lead other to their destination also. That's how people think.

• You seem wise, mature and generous, ready to help, to give guidance and advice. People can sense you've seen and experienced a lot of things in life but you still keep true to your Ideals. If you give someone advice or correct their behaviour, it's because you care and want them to be better. It comes from the desire for improvement.

• You don't talk much and seem to prefer listening. Taking in what the other person is talking about and thinking deeply about it. People might feel validated by this.

• But you can be defensive when your beliefs and values are challenged. There are certain topics that can make you talk passionately, which can be a surprise for people who don't know you well.

• A meticulous person who prefers things to be neat or in a specific order. Maybe your style and your surroundings seem really neat.

• Someone who knows how to appreciate small and mundane beauty in life.

• Some people might have heard about you before meeting you. And the stories seem kind of painful, serious, not sunshine and rainbow. So they could already develop some preconceived notions about you that are heavier than who you actually are.

[notsoverymerry]

Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)

<jeong yunho x fem!reader>

summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k

You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were. 

You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.

At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable. 

At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly. 

Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.

He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.

''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules. 

''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone. 

There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games. 

Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse. 

There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out. 

You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one. 

Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention. 

''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter. 

''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''

''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.

''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen. 

''Are you guys pulling my leg?''

''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side. 

You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?

''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''

A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you. 

It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions. 

You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug. 

''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''

''Hello, honey.''

The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths. 

''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''

It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face. 

''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''

The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were. 

''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''

It was as though they were doing it on purpose.

''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''

Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…

''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''

A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became. 

''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''

Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew. 

''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''

You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.

''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''

''I can hear that!''

That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.

''A reputable scam artist?''

That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?

''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''

A strangled sound tore from your chest.

''See? That's a laugh.''

There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.

You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there. 

Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.

His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.

''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''

He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck. 

''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''

He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts? 

''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face. 

Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.

You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same. 

''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''

There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.

''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''

''I'll be good,'' is his promise. 

With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste. 

Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off. 

He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin. 

''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.

''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim. 

He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine. 

''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''

He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders. 

Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. 

''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.'' 

You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.

You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically. 

''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''

He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right. 

You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to. 

When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out. 

''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.'' 

His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.

You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up. 

You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little. 

''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.'' 

You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.

''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''

''I love you too.''

He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.

''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!'' 

You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.

''We're decent.'' 

''When did you come back?!''

''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''

Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.

''I am traumatized, by the way.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''

You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.

''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too. 

Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''

[mssalo]

safety - Part: Il

Summary: After years of isolation, Joel Miller's life revolves around control and keeping danger at bay, his past as a soldier leaving him constantly on edge. But when a sweet, soft-spoken young woman starts working at the supply store, her innocence stirs something inside him. Despite his efforts to remain detached, Joel becomes obsessed with keeping her safe from the dangers he’s certain are lurking everywhere.

As his protective instincts morph into darker desires, the lines between safeguarding her and possessing her begin to blur.

Warnings will vary by chapter depending on the content.

Warnings: Dark!Joel, 18+ MDNI, Obsession themes, Stalking, Breaking and entering, Scent kink, Voyeurism, Joel has major Trauma/PTSD, Mentions of military past, Manipulation, Power dynamics, Male masturbation, Joel, still, needs a hug and therapy. As per usual.

9k. enjoy.

Part I here:

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

Joel found out she was working at the supply store by accident.

He hadn’t planned on seeing her again. After that first encounter, he convinced himself he’d walk away.

She wasn’t his problem.

He couldn’t get wrapped up in someone like her—someone who had no idea how dangerous the world really was.

But then, on one of his routine stops for supplies, he spotted her behind the counter.

She hadn’t seen him

At first, he’d assumed she was just a customer again, passing through, but when she’d ducked behind the register, pulling out receipts, it hit him.

She worked there now.

She hadn’t told him that before, hadn’t mentioned anything about it, and yet here she was, talking to customers, rearranging gear, moving around the store like it was something she’d been doing forever.

And for some reason, that made something inside him tighten.

She was here all the time. Regular hours, regular shifts.

Easy to find.

That should’ve made him feel nothing. But it didn’t.

That’s so fuckin’ dangerous.

From that point on, whenever he stopped by the store, he made sure to keep his distance.

He’d walk in, grab what he needed, and leave before she noticed him.

There was something about seeing her there—watching her smile and chat with customers—that unnerved him in a way he couldn’t explain.

She didn’t fit in with the world he knew.

She was too soft, too bright. She belonged somewhere safe, not in a place like this.

Yet, he found himself coming back.

Over and over.

Each time, he told himself it was the last time.

That he’d stop, that he didn’t need to see her again.

But every time he came back, she was there—talking to someone, laughing at some joke, her voice floating through the air like a song he couldn’t get out of his head.

Joel tried to ignore it.

Tried to ignore her.

But she was like a goddamn magnet, pulling him back in without even realizing it.

And then, one day, she spotted him.

“Joel!” she called, her voice bright and cheerful, as if they were old friends.

He froze, his hand tightening around the bag of supplies he’d grabbed.

He’d been so close to slipping out unnoticed, but now she was looking at him, smiling that same smile that made his chest tighten.

“Hey,” he muttered, forcing himself to turn and meet her gaze.

She was standing behind the counter, hands resting on the edge, her eyes lighting up as she looked at him.

These damn pretty eyes.

“I didn’t know you came here so often,” she said, her tone playful.

“What’s bringing you back this time?”

Joel grunted, trying to come up with a quick excuse. “Needed more supplies. That’s all.”

She didn’t seem to notice the coldness in his voice, just kept smiling at him like he hadn’t been avoiding her for days.

“You always seem so prepared,” she said with a small laugh. “I bet you could survive out there for weeks with all the stuff you buy.”

Joel’s jaw tightened. Survive? 

She had no idea what that meant.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Her smile faltered for just a second, her eyes flicking to the side as if she wasn’t sure what to say next.

But then she turned back to him, her expression softening again.

“You know, I’ve been learning more about the gear here,” she said, leaning forward a bit. “I could help you with recommendations if you ever need it.”

Joel stared at her, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Why was she still talking to him? Why was she being so damn nice?

“I’m good,” he said, his voice gruff.

But she didn’t stop.

She tilted her head slightly, her eyes bright with curiosity. “You sure? I’ve been reading up on it a lot. Could probably surprise you with what I know.”

You shouldn’t trust me, Joel thought, his mind racing. 

Why are you still smiling at me?

He grunted again, shifting on his feet, his gaze flicking to the door.

He needed to leave. Now.

“Well,” she said, that same smile tugging at her lips, “if you ever need anything, just let me know. I’m here most days now.”

Too much information. 

Joel’s gut clenched. She shouldn’t be telling him this—telling anyone this. Didn’t she know how dangerous it was to be so open, so trusting?

“You shouldn’t tell people that,” Joel muttered, his voice harsher than he meant. “Not safe.”

Her brows furrowed, her smile slipping for the first time. “What do you mean?”

Joel felt the weight of her confusion settle on him, but he couldn’t stop himself from speaking. “Tellin’ strangers where you work. When you work. Ain’t smart.”

She blinked, taken aback. “Oh... I guess I didn’t think of it that way.”

Of course, you didn’t. 

Joel’s mind reeled, his frustration bubbling just below the surface.

You don’t know how to think like that. You don’t know what the world can do to people like you.

But before he could say anything else, she smiled again, though this time it was smaller, a bit softer.

“Thanks for looking out for me,” she said, her voice quieter. “I didn’t mean to—well, I guess I’m just not used to thinking like that.”

Yeah. I can tell.

But instead of saying that, Joel just nodded, his jaw still tight. He needed to leave, needed to stop this before he got in too deep.

Here’s a darker, more intense version of that passage:

“See you around,” she called after him as he turned to leave.

He didn’t reply. He couldn’t.

His throat was tight, his chest heavy. But as he pushed open the door and stepped outside into the cool air, something made him look back.

She was still watching him. Smiling. Soft. So damn innocent.

That look in her eyes—so full of trust—twisted something deep inside him.

She doesn’t know better.

His boots hit the pavement harder than necessary as he made his way to the truck.

Every step felt heavy, like the weight of his thoughts was dragging him down. His hand found the door handle, but he couldn’t make himself move.

Couldn’t shake the way her scent still clung to him, sweet and soft, like she was still standing right next to him.

Joel gritted his teeth, staring down at the truck door, but all he could see was her face.

Her wide, bright eyes, that shy smile, the way she just… trusted.

Trusted him. She shouldn’t.

His body felt hot, the tension coiling low in his gut, his muscles tight.

Too tight.

And then he felt it again—his cock, straining against his jeans, hard and throbbing, a deep, almost painful ache that made his breath catch in his throat.

Fuck.

It hit him like a freight train, sudden and unwanted. His mind raced, trying to push the thought of her away, but the harder he tried, the worse it got.

His pulse pounded in his ears, the heat in his body rising as the memory of her soft voice echoed in his mind.

That innocent, clumsy laugh. The way she fumbled with the gear. The blush on her cheeks.

Joel’s grip tightened on the door handle, his knuckles turning white.

What the hell is wrong with you?

He hadn’t felt this in years. This need. This raw, primal hunger gnawing at him.

His body betrayed him, his cock throbbing harder, almost painfully, as if it knew something he didn’t.

But it was because of her.

The realization, again, made his chest tighten, his breath coming in rough, uneven bursts.

He slammed the door shut, leaning his forehead against the cool metal, trying to calm the storm raging inside him.

No. Not her.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but her image was burned into his mind—her body, her smell, the softness in her eyes.

His cock twitched again, the pressure building, his jeans too tight, the pulse unbearable.

She was so sweet. So oblivious.

And here he was, standing in the parking lot like a goddamn animal, throbbing with need for something he knew he shouldn’t want.

But the thought of her lingered. The way she looked up at him like he was something to be trusted. Something safe.

Joel forced himself into the truck, gripping the wheel so tight he thought it might break.

His heart pounded in his chest, the tension making every breath feel like fire.

He needed to forget her. Get her out of his head.

But his body told him otherwise.

The throbbing between his legs refused to be ignored. His jaw clenched, muscles tight with frustration as the thoughts swirled, dark and unwanted.

He hadn’t felt like this in years. Not since before everything went to hell.

And now? Now this girl—this soft, sweet girl—had him unraveling.

Joel’s head thudded against the back of the seat, his pulse still racing. This wasn’t going to end well.

Not for him.

And definitely not for her.

· · ────

The following days were a blur of uncomfortable tension.

Joel tried to stay away.

He told himself not to go back to the store, not to linger around her.

He even went out on longer drives, tried to immerse himself in the things that usually kept his mind quiet.

But it didn’t work. Not anymore.

She was lodged in his thoughts, a constant, nagging presence that he couldn’t shake.

No matter how hard he tried to forget her, she always managed to crawl back in.

Her face, her voice, the way she smiled up at him like he wasn’t something to fear.

It gnawed at him, a reminder of everything he’d left behind.

A week passed before Joel saw her again.

This time, it was different. He wasn’t just there for supplies or to catch a glimpse of her. No, this time, he watched her more carefully.

Observing.

He kept his distance at first, lingering near the back of the store, eyes flicking toward her every few minutes as she worked.

She hummed to herself again, that same soft tune he’d heard the first time they met.

It wasn’t loud, barely audible under the sound of the store, but he caught it.

And it made something tighten inside him.

For a man who lived in shadows, always on alert, this brightness—this innocence—felt foreign. Her having no need to be quiet so she won’t be seen.

Wrong.

And yet, he couldn’t stop watching her.

She smiled as she spoke to a customer, her eyes lighting up as she handed them their change.

She was so goddamn open, so trusting. And that terrified him.

He told himself it was because she didn’t know better. She didn’t know what kind of world she lived in.

She hadn’t seen the things he’d seen, hadn’t done the things he’d done.

That was why he watched her so closely now.

He was protecting her. Keeping her safe.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

But it was more than that, wasn’t it?

The next day, she found him again, her voice soft but cheerful as she spoke up. “You’re back! Need anything else?”

Joel stared at her for a moment, his chest tightening at how easily she smiled at him. “Just… lookin’.”

She laughed, the sound light and melodic. “Well, if you ever need recommendations, I’m your girl.”

He tried to brush it off, tried to keep his voice steady, his eyes focused anywhere but on her.

But when she started talking about her weekend plans, everything shifted.

“I’m actually heading out for a solo trip this weekend,” she said, her voice filled with excitement.

“Found this beautiful spot just outside of town. Gonna do some camping, get away from everything for a bit.”

Joel’s blood ran cold.

Camping? Alone?

His jaw clenched as he stared at her, trying to process what she’d just said.

A girl like her? Out in the wilderness by herself?

The world wasn’t safe, and she was too naive to see that. She didn’t understand the dangers lurking just beyond the treeline.

“Where?” His voice was rough, demanding.

The softness from earlier was gone, replaced by the cold, hard edge that usually kept people at a distance.

She blinked, caught off guard by his tone. “Uh… it’s just a little spot out past the ridge. Really pretty.”

Joel felt his chest tighten.

“You shouldn’t go alone,” he said, his voice dark, laced with warning. “It’s not safe.”

She blinked, clearly confused by his sudden shift. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted, though there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice now. “I’ve done this before.”

“No, you won’t,” Joel growled, stepping closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming. “You have no idea what’s out there.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide, brows furrowed. “I—”

“You’ll get yourself killed,” he interrupted, his voice dropping lower, more threatening.

His paranoia was slipping through now, his need to protect her—to control the situation—overwhelming him. “You’re not prepared for what’s out there.”

There was a long pause, the tension thick between them. She opened her mouth to speak, but Joel wasn’t done.

“If you’re set on goin’,” he said, his tone calmer now, but still dark, “I know a better place. Secluded. Safe.”

His mind was spinning with the need to protect her, to make sure she was under his watch. “It’s past the ridge. You won’t find it on a map, but it’s perfect for campin’.”

That was his land. His very own property, tucked away from prying eyes, isolated and quiet. His land. Where he could keep an eye on her.

Her eyes brightened again, the tension between them easing just slightly. “Really? That sounds amazing! I’d love to check it out.”

Trusting so easily.

Joel nodded slowly, watching her carefully.

“I’ll give you the coordinates,” he said, his voice rough, his gaze still locked on hers. “Just… be careful.”

She smiled again, oblivious to the darkness brewing behind his eyes. “Thank you, Joel. I appreciate it.”

There's that damn blush again.

Joel nodded again, but his mind was already elsewhere.

She didn’t belong out there alone. And now, after hearing her plans, Joel knew what he had to do.

She wouldn’t be alone.

If she wouldn’t protect herself, then he would

· · ────

It happened by accident, really.

Joel had been driving through town, running his usual errands—another routine day where he tried to keep his mind occupied with anything but her.

It was something he’d been forcing himself to do for the past few days, convincing himself that the tension in his chest would ease if he just avoided her, if he didn’t let himself linger in her orbit for too long.

But fate had other plans.

As he turned down a quiet street on the edge of town, his eyes caught movement.

A figure stepped out of a small, unassuming house, barely noticeable in the corner of his eye.

Joel wasn’t even sure why he slowed down at first. He told himself it was out of habit, that old soldier instinct to assess everything in his surroundings. But the moment he saw her, all rational thought slipped away.

It was her.

She stood there, fumbling with her keys and a couple of grocery bags, her hair falling loose around her shoulders in soft waves.

Joel’s foot hovered over the brake for just a second too long as he watched her struggle to balance the bags and unlock the door.

Her face was flushed, lips moving as she muttered something to herself—a frustrated little quirk of her mouth that made his chest tighten.

There was something different about seeing her like this.

Here, in her space.

Not at the store, not somewhere public. But here—outside her home.

He felt a knot of something unfamiliar, something deep and possessive curl in his stomach.

She didn’t notice him at all. She was too busy juggling her things, her focus entirely on the door in front of her.

Joel’s gaze swept over her as he slowly rolled by, his truck moving at a crawl now.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away, even though a part of him knew he should’ve kept driving.

But the pull was too strong.

There was a softness about her here that felt even more pronounced.

Her home, small and tucked away from the busier streets, suited her in a way that he hadn’t expected. It was unassuming, private, but open in a way that made Joel feel… unsettled.

Like she was too exposed, too vulnerable, and too easy to find. Too easy for someone to hurt.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened as the thought crossed his mind.

She had no idea how dangerous the world really was. How quickly things could go wrong.

He drove past, the truck moving with painful slowness, his eyes flicking from the road to her again and again.

She didn’t see him. Not once. And for some reason, that bothered him more than it should have.

She hadn’t locked the door when she finally went inside.

Of course, she hadn’t.

Joel’s chest tightened with frustration, his jaw clenching as he drove farther down the road, turning the corner and pulling to a stop just out of sight.

Now that he knew where she lived, something shifted. He couldn’t just drive away and forget about it. No, she was here, alone, with no sense of the dangers that could easily find her.

He shouldn’t care. It wasn’t his problem. She wasn’t his problem.

But that’s not how it felt anymore.

· · ────

It wasn’t until later that night, as he lay in bed, that the dream came.

It wasn’t like the usual ones—flashes of war, the men he’d fought alongside, the sounds of gunfire and the stink of blood.

This one was different and it hit harder than anything he’d experienced in years.

He dreamt of her.

Of her in that house. And something, someone, breaking in.

It was chaos.

She was screaming, fighting to get free, and all he could do was watch, powerless, as she disappeared into the shadows.

He woke up drenched in sweat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest, the adrenaline surging through his veins.

For a moment, Joel couldn’t shake the feeling that it had been real—that she was in danger and he hadn’t been there to stop it.

His hand instinctively reached for the knife he kept near the bed, fingers gripping the handle like it was his lifeline.

His breath came in heavy bursts, his body rigid with the need to protect, to act.

He could still hear her screams, still see her face twisted in fear.

She wasn’t safe.

And it wasn’t just a dream. Joel knew then, in that moment, that he couldn’t let this go.

He couldn’t just stand by and hope for the best.

It was only a matter of time, before something bad would happen to her.

He had to make sure she was okay, had to make sure nothing like that ever happened to her.

And if that meant going out of his way to keep an eye on her, then so be it.

· · ────

The next day, he drove by her house again.

And the day after that.

Each time, he told himself it was just a precaution, just a way to make sure she wasn’t in any real danger.

He didn’t get too close, didn’t let himself be seen.

But every time he saw her, the tension in his chest loosened just a little, knowing she was still there, still safe.

He found out more about her routines—when she left for work, when she came back.

He watched as she went about her day, completely unaware of the eyes that followed her every move.

She wasn’t like the rest of the world—hardened and scarred by violence.

She was soft, untouched by the darkness that clung to everything Joel had known.

And that’s why she needed him.

· · ────

The more he watched her, the more he realized how easy it would be for something to go wrong.

A stranger could approach her on her walks, someone could break into her house, anything could happen.

And if he wasn’t there to stop it… she would be defenseless.

That feeling from the dream—the panic, the helplessness—still clung to him, gnawing at his gut like a festering wound.

He couldn’t shake it, couldn’t convince himself to turn around and go home.

That’s why he had started breaking into her house.

Naturally.

At first, it was just to make sure everything was secure.

He would check the locks, make sure the windows were latched, make sure there were no signs of forced entry.

But the more he let himself in, the more his reasons shifted.

He started checking her camping gear, making sure everything was in place.

Joel crouched down, fingers brushing over the rough material as he unzipped the bag.

His hands moved through her belongings with the same careful touch, checking each item she’d packed.

He frowned when he noticed some of the essentials missing.

No proper emergency gear. Not enough food. Definitely not enough water.

She wasn’t ready.

His chest tightened with a mix of frustration and concern.

She had no idea what she was walking into.

The wild didn’t care how innocent or sweet you were—it tore people apart.

And she was so damn trusting, so clueless about the danger that lurked everywhere.

Joel zipped the bag back up and stood, a plan already forming in his mind.

She couldn’t go out there alone, not without the proper gear. Not without protection.

He’d make sure she had what she needed.

He’d leave it for her—quietly, subtly.

She didn’t need to know he was the one watching over her.

She didn’t need to know just how deep his involvement went.

His feet led him down the hall, toward the room at the end—the door slightly ajar, a soft, warm glow spilling from inside.

Joel’s breath hitched as he stepped further inside, his boots nearly silent on the hardwood floor.

It was small, simple, but unmistakably hers.

A bed with a soft quilted cover, a small nightstand with a book left open, and clothes folded neatly on a chair in the corner.

Joel swallowed hard, his throat dry as his eyes roamed over the space.

He moved slowly, carefully, his eyes scanning the room like he was surveying a battlefield.

Everything was neat, untouched, just as he’d expected.

But as he stood there, something twisted in his chest. He wasn’t just here to check on her safety.

Something else caught his attention.

Her underwear.

At first, it was an accident. He wasn’t looking for it, but when he stumbled upon it—soft, lacy, and used—he couldn’t stop himself.

His hands reached for it before he even realized what he was doing, his fingers brushing against the delicate fabric.

His breath caught in his throat, his pulse quickening.

He shouldn’t be doing this. He knew that.

But the scent—her scent—was intoxicating, wrapping around him like a drug. His mind flashed with images of her wearing it, of her undressing, her skin soft and bare beneath his touch.

Joel’s grip tightened on the fabric, his body reacting in ways he hadn’t felt in years. His jeans grew uncomfortably tight, the throbbing between his legs impossible to ignore. He was so hard.

This wasn’t just about keeping her safe anymore. It was about something deeper, something darker.

He brought the fabric to his face, inhaling deeply, letting the scent of her wash over him.

His eyes fluttered shut, his mind filling with thoughts he had no right to think.

He hadn’t let himself feel something like this —this raw, uncontrollable hunger—but now, standing in her bedroom, holding something so private, so close to her, it hit him like a wave.

Joel inhaled deeply, the scent wrapping around him like a haze, flooding his senses. It was overwhelming, intoxicating.

His eyes fluttered shut, his breathing deepened, and the scent clung to him, almost suffocating him in the best way possible.

The sweetness, mixed with something so personal, made his heart pound harder in his chest, heat rising in his body.

She had no idea.

No idea what she did to him.

How that softness, that scent, chipped away at the walls he build.

His fingers tightened around the fabric as he held it closer, the warmth of her scent flooding his senses.

His mind was clouded with images—images of her.

She shouldn’t be this trusting.

He imagined her standing there, blushing, lips parting slightly, her soft voice spilling from them, completely unaware of the thoughts racing through his mind.

She was just too easy to picture—too easy to want.

too sweet.

Too soft. Too innocent for someone like him.

Joel’s grip tightened as he let his mind spiral deeper into the images of her—blushing, trembling, staring up at him with those wide, innocent eyes that would soon be filled with something else.

His fingers tightened around the fabric, his body responding in ways he couldn’t deny any longer.

He fought to steady his breathing, to push the dark thoughts from his mind, but they were there, lurking just beneath the surface, no matter how hard he tried.

He shouldn’t want this. Shouldn’t want her. 

He wasn’t just imagining her anymore—he was feeling her, smelling her, letting her invade his mind and body in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

Joel’s jaw clenched, his breathing rough as he tried to regain control.

But the more he let the fabric linger in his hands, the more he realized—he didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to let go.

Joel stayed like that, frozen in the moment, inhaling deeply, the used fabric of her underwear still clutched in his hands as he lost himself in the dark, possessive thoughts swirling in his mind.

He knew it wouldn’t be the last time. He couldn’t stop now.

The pull was too strong, too overwhelming.

Without even thinking, he raised the fabric closer, his lips hovering just above it.

His heart pounded in his chest, a heavy, aching rhythm, the temptation crawling under his skin.

He hesitated for just a moment, knowing how wrong this was, how far he was crossing a line.

But it wasn’t enough to stop him.

Nothing could stop him now.

Joel’s breath hitched, and his lips brushed against the soft material, barely making contact at first.

He could feel the warmth, the faint trace of her cunt, lingering on the fabric, and it sent a wave of heat rushing through him.

His grip tightened.

The softness pressed against his mouth, and for a split second, he let his tongue flicker out, tasting her sweet pussy, just barely.

It was subtle, a hint of something forbidden, but it sent a jolt straight through him.

He felt himself tense, his body reacting in ways he could no longer control, the line between protection and obsession blurring even more.

He wanted more.

Before he could let his tongue get another lick, Joel heard the unmistakable sound of the front door opening.

That did certainly stop him.

His body stiffened, and in a heartbeat, all the dark, twisted satisfaction evaporated, replaced by a surge of adrenaline.

His mind raced, his fingers trembling as he fumbled to put everything back exactly where it had been.

Not now. Not like this.

He moved swiftly but silently, making sure every trace of him disappeared. Every drawer closed, every fabric in place. He couldn’t leave any sign that he had been there.

His heart pounded against his ribcage as he slipped out of the bedroom, his movements precise, calculated.

Years of training kept his body moving even when his mind teetered on panic.

The soft sound of her footsteps reached his ears as she moved further into the house.

She was talking to herself again, that light, carefree tune that only made him more desperate to get out unnoticed.

She had no idea.

No idea that he had been so close, no idea of the thoughts that ran through his head while he held her soaked panties in his hands.

Joel paused at the back door, his body pressed against the frame as he caught a glimpse of her through the crack in the doorway.

She was still oblivious, setting her bag down, humming softly to herself. She hadn’t noticed anything. Not the disturbance in the air, not the faint scent of him that still lingered in the room.

So innocent. So trusting.

Must be nice.

He watched her for a moment, his eyes darkening as he observed her, standing there in the home she thought was safe.

He could still smell her on him, the faint scent clinging to his mustache, the lingering effect making his pulse quicken once more.

But he couldn’t stay.

Not now.

With one last glance, Joel slipped out of the house, his movements quick and silent.

He disappeared into the shadows just as she turned toward the hallway, completely unaware of how close he had been—how close he still was.

· · ────

Joel slipped into his truck with the stealth of a man used to evading detection, his heart still hammering in his chest as he turned the key in the ignition.

The engine rumbled to life, but his mind was elsewhere. 

The drive home felt longer than usual, each passing second a blur of adrenaline and frustration.

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles white, his breathing uneven.

He could still smell her, the faint scent lingering on his clothes, on his skin. It was maddening.

He tried to shake it off, tried to ignore the throbbing ache that had been building since he smelled her sweet little cunt, but it wouldn’t go away.

When he finally pulled up to his house, Joel barely remembered the drive at all.

He parked the truck haphazardly, the door slamming shut behind him as he made his way inside.

His boots hit the wooden floor with heavy thuds, and before he knew it, he was leaning back against the wall in his living room, his breath still coming in shallow bursts.

His breath was ragged, the ache in his body refusing to subside.

The scent of her cunt—still clinging to his beard, his hands—seeped into his skin, a constant reminder of what she had stirred deep inside him.

He hadn’t felt like this in years, hadn’t allowed himself to. But now, there was no going back.

His cock throbbed painfully, straining against his jeans, and for the first time in so long, he couldn’t ignore it.

The need was unbearable, clawing at him, demanding release. He leaned back against the wall, chest heaving, every breath filled with the sweetness of her scent.

It was still there, on him, as if she hadn’t left.

His hand hovered over the bulge in his jeans, fingers twitching, as if fighting the urge to touch.

But the memory of her—the feel of her, the scent of her—was overwhelming.

He couldn’t stop now. He didn’t want to.

With a low growl, he gave in, his hand pressing against his cock, the pressure sending a shiver up his spine.

His jaw clenched as he slowly dragged his palm over the length, the throbbing only growing more intense. The sensation was too much, too sharp after years of nothing.

He hadn’t touched himself like this in so long, and the intensity of it almost knocked the breath out of him.

His cock twitched, hard and aching in his hand, the weight of it heavy as he gripped it tighter.

His breath hitched as he finally pulled it free, the cool air hitting his skin, but it did nothing to cool the heat that was coursing through his veins. fuck.

He stroked himself slowly at first, his rough palm sliding over the swollen, leaking head, the friction making him groan.

He thought he’d never feel this was again.

His mind was a haze of her—her softness, her innocence, the way she had smiled at him, so trusting, so sweet.

She didn’t know what she was doing to him. She couldn’t know.

But he did.

His pace quickened, each stroke more desperate, more insistent. The scent of her was driving him insane.

Sweet like her.

He licked his lips, trying to get some of that sweet, sweet taste back he had earlier.

His cock throbbed in his hand, hard and slick as he pumped it, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

Her face flashed in his mind again—those wide, innocent eyes, the way she had blushed when she looked at him.

She had no idea.

No idea how badly he wanted her, how much he needed her.

Joel’s grip tightened, his strokes rougher now, his hips jerking up into his hand as he chased that release, the pressure building fast.

His cock was pulsing in his hand, slick and hard, aching with the need for something he couldn’t name.

Something only she could give him.

His breath came in ragged bursts, his chest heaving as he pumped his cock faster, harder.

The tension coiled tight in his gut, every muscle in his body straining as the need for release consumed him.

He could almost taste her, the memory of her scent still filling his lungs, making his head swim.

With a rough, guttural growl, Joel’s body tensed, his vision going white as the tension finally snapped.

His cock jerked in his hand, the release hitting him like a storm, fierce and unforgiving.

He groaned low in his throat, his hips bucking as he spilled over his hand, the warmth spreading through him like fire. He hadn’t cum that much in years.

It wouldn’t stop coming out of him.

…well, this was new.

For a long moment, he stayed there, his breath coming in ragged, heavy gasps, his hand still wrapped around his now-softening cock.

The pleasure ebbed slowly, leaving behind a dark satisfaction that settled deep in his bones.

But it wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

Because her scent was still there.

Her softness still lingered in his mind, wrapped around him like a shroud, and Joel knew—this wasn’t over.

Not even close.

Joel’s mind flickered back to the map, to the spot he’d given her—the spot on his land.

He could see it clear as day, tucked away, isolated, surrounded by woods.

Tomorrow, she’d be out there, alone, completely unaware of what could happen.

His jaw clenched at the thought.

The world was dangerous, filled with things she couldn’t even begin to understand.

But he did.

His pulse quickened, that dark, familiar feeling tightening around his chest.

He’d keep her safe. He’d make sure nothing happened to her—not on his watch.

No one else knew the dangers lurking in the shadows like he did. She had no idea, no clue what she was walking into.

But he’d be there.

Watching.

And if anything—or anyone—tried to hurt her, they’d have to go through him first.

Joel swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his sides. He’d seen too much, lost too much.

But not her. Not this time.

Tomorrow, he’d make sure she was safe… even if she didn’t know it.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

well… somebody needs therapy (me and him both)

I have no tag list for this (I’m old and will probably fail starting one) but if you comment on here I’ll remind you if there’s a new chapter!!

Deal?

xoxo

[rafey-baby]

hidden 3

cw: outlaw!rafe being his usual self, hostage situation, mentions of murder, pogue!reader having some sexual awakenings & some backstory on rafe

wc: 2.3k

hope u enjoy xx

part 1 part 2

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  

The following morning, her eyes groggily open in her own bed; covers tucked over her shoulders and head comfortably propped up by her pillow. She finds herself perplexed, doesn’t know how she ended up here since her last coherent memory from last night is sitting on the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck and letting her heavy lids close for what was originally supposed to be a few minutes.  

Her sock-clad feet pad over to the living room where Rafe is rummaging through some of his papers and whatnot; appearing as busy as ever.  

”Why don’t I remember coming home last night?” She stops to stand next to him. 

”Cause you sleep like a fucking rock. Had to carry you to your room,” he sounds disinterested, not even bothering to lift his head from the piece of paper he’s pinching between his fingers. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be some sort of a contract; letters unfortunately too tiny for her to be able to read from where she’s standing. 

“Oh. Thanks?”

Instead of leaving her passed out in his car like she would’ve assumed, he tucked her into bed? Maybe he owns a heart, after all.  

“It’s whatever,” he dismisses her while reading something over; seemingly deep in thought.  

“Do you— do you need help with that?” 

“Nah, I’m good,” his hand lifts up to scratch at the back of his head before he scribbles something down.

”Right…” she trails off, apparently rooted in her spot and unable to move.  

”Did you want something or what?” His tone is suddenly exasperated, eyes finally flickering up to peer into hers along with his brows raising expectantly.  

”No, I just…are we going somewhere today?” She can’t help but feel a little out of place in her own home with him there; almost as if she’s waiting for his next command to know what to do next. It makes something peculiar swim in the pits of her stomach.  

”Nah, just have to go over these. Can you, I don’t know, go to your room or something? You’re bothering me with your staring,” he grumbles and shifts into a more comfortable position on the couch; not sparing her another ounce of attention.  

”Okay,” she mumbles, a frown taking over her visage.  

Honestly, she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to do now. Normally, she’d go to work at the surf shop near the beach but since Rafe so kindly took her phone and texted everyone in her contacts about a family emergency that would take some days to sort through, she can’t exactly do that. And besides work…well, she doesn’t really have much else going on in her life. It’s sad, really, how a literal criminal forcing his way into her house is the most exciting thing to happen to her in the past few years.  

All things considered though, she doesn’t mind living a quiet life in the Cut, just sometimes wishes she didn’t feel so…lonely. And don’t get her wrong, she has friends, she just sometimes yearns for something deeper than fun boat adventures or getting high with her feet dangling over the dock while a tangerine-colored sunset paints over the horizon.  

She’s always had this dream of traveling around the world or simply just somewhere that wasn’t the Outer Banks but her parents never had the money for it. Therefore, she settled and learned to earn a living by herself in order to keep a roof over her head.  

And she’s been content with her simple life, even considers herself to be happy but then she sat on Rafe’s lap and at the realization of him getting hard from her unconscious rubbing against him felt butterflies in her belly, maybe for the first time in her life. It was something she thought only happened in movies yet there they were; their fluttering wings poking at her core like some vicious reminder that she hadn’t let someone make her feel good in ages.  

Truth be told, she grew tired of guys not being able to make her come because they didn’t understand her needs; didn’t even bother to find them out which is why she sort of lost hope for the whole thing altogether. But then Rafe steps inside her home uninvited and is nothing but mean to her and suddenly she...

It's wrong.

It doesn't make any sense yet she still can't help but feel a certain pull towards him whenever he's close. And she doesn't like it one bit; wants to forget about it as quickly as the thought breaches her mind.

It's far too complex for her perplexed mind to grasp onto, which is why she confuses it for insanity; simply decides that she’s going crazy. And maybe she is, because why else would she suddenly care for Rafe? Why is a hidden part of her heart beginning to harbor gooey, fond feelings for a killer who’s technically holding her hostage? 

She’s sure her muddled brain is going to explode if she thinks about the matter any longer; instead opting to take a long, scalding shower due to the clothes she’s been wearing since yesterday starting to stick to her sweaty skin and making her feel even filthier than she already does. 

Unfortunately, the steaming water doesn't quite wash away the ache between her thighs.

She’s in the middle of pulling a shirt over the damp strands of her hair when harsh knuckles rap against her bedroom door and Rafe enters a second later; not even bothering to wait for a response.  

”Change of plans—” his words die down on his tongue when he notices her current state.  

”Rafe, what the fuck?” She quickly adjusts the hem over her waist, painfully aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any pants and his eyes are now fixed on the lace of her panties practically on show for him. 

”Why are you just barging into my room like that? I could’ve been naked!” She complains before snatching a pair of shorts off her floor; tugging them over her hips.  

”Shit, wouldn’t have minded if you were. Got a nice ass for a Pogue,” he shrugs while sporting an irritating smirk that makes her glare at him.  

”And you’ve got no manners for a Kook. Except, I’m not surprised,” she rolls her eyes when he feigns shock; exaggeratedly dropping his jaw.

”Puppy’s getting angry, huh? Where’s this attitude coming from? Thought you were still scared of me?” He belittles her with a condescending tinge in his laugh. 

And she’s about to respond when out of the blue the ring of her doorbell reverberates around the house.  

They both tense.  

“You’re expecting someone?” His tone turns bleak, frigid; inducing shivers to litter across her arms as her head turns towards the source of the sound.  

”N— no. I’m not,” she stutters because truthfully, she doesn’t have a clue as to who could be at her door in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday.  

”Did you fucking call someone?” He takes a threatening step towards her and she panics.   

”No! I promise, I didn’t. I don’t even— you literally have my phone, remember?” She tries to fruitlessly defend herself.  

”I swear, if you’re lying right now—”  

”I’m not, okay? I didn’t call anyone!” She reassures once more, although it seems like he’s not even listening anymore. Therefore, she tries to be logical. ”I should— I should go and see who it is, right?” 

The icebound water in his eyes bores into her as he weighs out his options. 

”Right, right. Yeah, you should do that," he finally settles on. "But if you even consider telling them anything, I swear I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?” He grits out into her face and she flinches when she can feel his harsh breaths hit her mouth with each syllable.  

She quickly nods before teetering towards the entrance of her home and twisting the lock with precarious fingers.

Soon, she’s standing in front of two men wearing police uniforms. 

”Oh, sorry for the wait. Was um…in the bathroom. How can I— uh, help you?” She tries to appear unfazed; inhaling slowly and doing everything she can in order to not look as guilty as she feels. 

”We apologize for the inconvenience but we’ve been assigned to ask around the island in order to locate a criminal who’s potentially a threat to our entire community,” one of them says and she thinks his jaded eyes are peering into her soul and seeing right through her rickety facade. 

”Have you seen this man recently?” The other guy dangles a picture of Rafe in the air. She takes a moment to properly look at the photo as to not answer too quickly.  

“N— no, sorry. Can’t say I have. Why? Who is that?” She bats her lashes in confusion as her poor heart thuds in her ribcage. She wonders if they can hear it. 

”This is Rafe Cameron. You might’ve heard about Cameron development? He became the owner after his father’s death a few years back. And now we have reason to believe that he’s the main suspect for the murder of a fellow officer,” he states with a serious expression. 

”Oh, that’s…that’s terrible,” her eyes widen in shock because she had no idea Rafe was a Cameron. Of course, she’d heard everyone talking about what had happened with Ward Cameron and the rumors surrounding the gold but she’d never cared enough to dig through for more information about the rest of his family.  

”Seems like the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree considering what Ward did to Sheriff Peterkin,” the one with the piercing stare snickers and her brows furrow because she doesn’t think the topic is all that hilarious.  

”I remember watching that in the news when it was all happening. Didn’t you guys also arrest an innocent Pogue with no actual proof?” Her question is sharp because the whole case still itches her in the wrong way. 

”That was— listen, I wasn’t even here back then, it was all very tragic. But the investigation on this case is still ongoing and we have a reliable witness claiming they saw Rafe dragging something heavy near the ocean the night before we found the body washed up on the shore. And according to multiple sources Rafe was the last person seen with our coworker at the island club a few hours prior to his death,” the guy explains and she momentarily wonders if they’re even allowed to share this much classified information with her.  

”Right. Well, I really wish I could help you but I unfortunately haven’t seen him,” her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek and she wonders if they can tell that she’s lying. 

“At this point, it seems like no one has. We’re suspecting that he might’ve fled the country. Anyway, we’ve got orders to search every house but honestly, we don’t think he’d be on this side of the island. So, we’re not gonna waste our time on that. Call this number if you notice anything out of the ordinary, though?”  

”Yes, of course. I really wish there was more I could do to help. Hope you guys find him soon,” she offers them a tight smile.  

”We’ll do our best,” they assure her before the door finally closes.  

Her back slides down against the wood as her labored breathing begins to slow down. She closes her eyes in a moment of relief until she feels Rafe’s presence interfering with her peace.  

”Who knew you were such a good liar? Shouldn’t believe everything you say too easily then, should I?” His gaze travels down her form and he genuinely seems impressed.  

”You killed a cop?” She decides to ignore his teasing. 

”Relax. He was a sleazy bastard who was helping me with some side business and became too greedy. What can I say? Don’t like being used. But believe me, he was not a good person,” he answers her question, maybe for the first time ever. 

”Right, right,” she tries her very best to understand where he’s coming from but she doesn’t think she’s ever going to be able to justify ending someone’s life with such indifference. In her opinion, he doesn’t have the right to decide whether someone gets to live or not; no matter how good or bad of a person they are. 

”Listen, I didn’t mean to do it, it just…happened, okay?” He tries to explain himself and he almost sounds vulnerable. She nearly feels bad for him.  

”You know, I could go to jail for helping you!” She snaps when frustration bubbles to the surface instead.  

”Calm down, Pup. You’re not going to jail, alright? And watch that fucking tone, yeah?” His hands rest on his head as he begins to pace around the hallway.  

”I just— cops don’t care about Pogues. If they find out I lied to them they’re gonna put me behind bars cause unlike you, I don’t have the money to bail myself out,” she tries to pointlessly reason with him.  

”Already told you, nothing’s gonna happen to you, okay? Now can you shut the fuck up so I can think?” He demands, halting his movements.  

”Did they, uh, tell you anything?” He speaks up again and she tells him everything she remembers from the brief conversation while he mulls over his situation. 

”Right, right. So, they don’t actually have any real proof about me killing the guy? Just speculation,” he confirms.  

”I guess, yeah? But I don’t know if they even know all the details about the case,” she offers in response and can practically hear the wheels turning in his head.  

”They didn’t happen to mention who the witness was?”  

”N— no, why?” Her voice wavers as she swallows around the question. 

He lifts his head to inspect her reaction when he seems to have finally conjured up some sort of a plan to clear his name.  

”Think I’m gonna have to pay him a little visit. And you’re gonna help, aren’t ya?”

She would very much like to find out whatever sin she committed in a past life that weighed so heavily that it made her end up in a position as wretched as this one.

[mizu0xox0]

Fei Xiao and Ruan Mei x reader with Oshi No Ko star eyes

[Both characters are written as separate hcs, might be OOC]

🦊Fei Xiao

-Shes definitely fascinated by how unique your eyes look, I mean sure some Xianzhou folks have unique eye colors but your eyes that look like they hold the galaxy in them now that's something she could stare into daily

-Fei Xiao will definitely introduce you to Jiaoqiu and Moze. And you bet she'll always bring up how beautiful your eyes are well everything about you is beautiful but your eyes stand out the most

-Fei Xiao will do anything to see your eyes light up. Compliment you? Of course she doesn't mind. Train with you? She is on her way. Maybe even sparring with her? Gladly plus she gets the bonus of seeing the passion burning in your eyes

-Speaking about compliments I feel like Fei Xiao would say something along the lines of "You're my world and I mean it quite literally you have a whole galaxy in your eyes."

-This will get worse when she is drunk and her words start to slur. There may even be occurrences where either Jing Yuan, Jiaoqiu or Moze may have to witness such occurrences as they bring her back to your shared house and see Fei Xiao saying extremely cheesy compliments about you which makes the average person cringe

-All in all sure your eyes are unique but Fei Xiao finds all of your unique

🧬Ruan Mei:

-As someone who wishes to understand lifeforms well she's seen many eyes of different lifeforms but no lifeform has eyes as interesting as you

-She tries to recreate your eyes with her experiments such as the cat cakes but the cat cakes eyes just aren't like yours a whole galaxy

-If you ever want that cat cake she'll gladly let you take it since well its a mini you sort of

-Whenever she spends time locked up in her lab and needs some new inspiration she may just go to you and look at your eyes. Something about your eyes may give her ideas. Maybe the various sparkles and twinkles in them.

-Ruan Mei who in her journey of understanding lifeforms doesn't seem to grasp the understanding of your eyes and why she gets lost in those eyes for yours. It's as if your eyes hold the whole galaxy in them that she could get lost it

-Every once in a while she may be doing some embroidery work and may embroider your eye color in her work after all it is quite a sight

-She will have difficulty expressing her emotions and compliments are rare from her but you can tell she's definitely somewhere between fascinated and amazed by your eyes since she looks a little more intent into your eyes as compared to when she's with other people. But be patient with her as time goes on who knows.

Note: Thank you for reading! I finally decided to write about two of my favorite female characters in HSR, I really love Ruan Mei a lot esp since her release. Really wishing that she'll achieve her goal of becoming an aeon. Hopefully sometime in the future I'll have a firmer grasp on these two characters and write more for them.

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Robin: Dad? Oscar: Me. Robin: Are you busy? Oscar: Not too busy to talk about getting a call from school earlier-.. three hours into the first day of term, no less. [Robin huffed, his shoulders slumping; that wasn’t what he wanted to talk about] Oscar: Two-way street, pal.. you talk, I talk. Robin: Fine-.. what does it mean when someone who’s usually an asshole suddenly starts being nice? Oscar: I guess it depends on the asshole, do they want something? Robin: I don’t know, it’s hard to tell via messenger-.. or any other time. Oscar: [hums] I dunno, I wouldn’t dismiss it straight away but I wouldn’t let my guard down either-.. play it by ear y’know? Your mom’s always saying life’s too short for grudges, but she can be too nice sometimes. Robin: So, somewhere in the middle is good? Oscar: Maybe? Life’s messy, bud.. I don’t think I can give you any definitive answers on this kinda shit. [Robin heaved a weary sigh, wishing he’d just gone to bed] Oscar: Are you gonna tell me what happened today? Robin: I don’t wanna talk about it. Oscar: You can’t just up n’ leave at lunch, what’re you playing at? Robin: Sorry. Oscar: Sorry ain’t gonna cut it every time, Robin. I don’t wanna have to start getting on your case about school, but if you don’t sort your shit out, we’re gonna have to-.. and let’s be honest, no one can be arsed with that. [Oscar jostled Robin’s knee affectionately, he wasn’t really mad, but he wasn’t messing around either] Robin: I’ll try harder. Oscar: No one’s asking you for straight A’s but you’re taking the piss now. Apply yourself or whatever the teachers say-.. and keep your ass inside the gates ‘til three as well, okay? Robin: Okay, okay! Oscar: You better! I’ll pick up a military school pamphlet if you don’t. Robin: [snorts] Yeah, right.

[seongwars]

forget me not | iv

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x witch!Reader AU: non-idol | supernatural Summary: Yunho should be happy--he's got everything going for him and he's set to marry the love of his life! So why is he standing outside of your shop on the night of his engagement party? Word Count: 7.5K (my bad) Warnings: infidelity, use of the k word

Fic Masterlist

a/n: my stitches reopened and I had to go back and get restitched 😬 so I spent all day in bed editing this chapter. i love reading everyone's theories and feedback is always welcome!

The first time Haewon saw Yunho, it was at your dorm during a study session. You were both surrounded by books, notes, and various pieces of stationary scattered across the floor. While you were focusing on writing out your note cards, Haewon was dancing around the room in an attempt to “activate her brain cells”. 

She had been caught up in her own world until the sound of a knock interrupted her antics. You stood up to answer the door, and a low voice followed, mingled with a chuckle—deep, familiar, and warm.

Yunho.

He was your best friend, someone she’d heard about but hadn’t paid much attention to. But that day, something was different. He sat with a pile of books and a look of quiet concentration that intrigued her. His presence was magnetic, though subtle, and without realizing it, Haewon found herself sneaking glances at him, captivated by the calm determination in his demeanor.

She wasn’t sure when it happened exactly, but at some point, between stolen glances and shared laughter over late-night group study sessions, she started to fall for him. Yunho was kind, always the first to offer a helping hand, and his dedication to his friends and family was unwavering. He had a way of making everyone feel valued and heard.

And when he asked her to be his girlfriend, she was over the moon. 

"Did you know Yunho was going to ask me out?" she beamed, her voice laced with an excitement that made your heart sink.

You froze for a second, your pencil hovering above the page. There was a flicker of something—disappointment, maybe even hurt—but you quickly swallowed it down. 

"Maybe," you muttered, your voice light, almost teasing, though it took everything in you to keep it that way. Haewon didn’t see the way your grip tightened on the pencil, or how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

"I can’t believe it," she gushed, oblivious to the turmoil behind your composed expression. "I mean, I’ve liked him for a while now, and I wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, but when he asked me…God, it was perfect."

"That’s great, Haewon" you said, your voice quieter than before, trying desperately to sound convincing. 

You fell in love with the way Yunho truly saw you, even when you tried to hide parts of yourself. He understood you in ways no one else ever had, knowing your fears, your dreams, and all the things that made you tick. Somewhere along the line, you stopped worrying about what he would think of you because with Yunho, you never had to pretend.

That’s when you knew you loved him—because the idea of life without him didn’t feel like life at all.

But how could you tell him? You weren’t like Haewon—bold and unafraid, able to voice her feelings as if vulnerability wasn’t terrifying. She was all confidence and ease, speaking her mind without a second thought, while you were cautious, overthinking, content to blend into the background.

Telling Yunho how you felt would mean stepping into the unknown. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him if things went wrong. So you stayed silent, burying your feelings deep, hoping that somehow, you could protect what you had by keeping your secret. 

But things went wrong anyway.

You tried not to not let their relationship affect you, told yourself you were happy for them. Haewon and Yunho were two of the most important people in your life, and they deserved happiness. You repeated that to yourself like a mantra, hoping that if you said it enough, you might actually believe it. 

It hurt seeing them together, knowing that while you were happy for them, you couldn’t help the ache in your chest every time Yunho laughed a little too easily at something she said, or when she rested her head on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The worst part was that you couldn’t even be angry. How could you? Haewon hadn’t done anything wrong; she hadn’t stolen Yunho from you, and Yunho hadn’t abandoned you. It was like watching sand slip through your fingers—nothing to hold on to, nothing you could do to stop it.

Yunho was happy, and you cared about him enough to want that for him, even if it wasn’t with you.

After you disappeared, everything fell apart in ways neither of them expected. Yunho and Haewon participated in search parties, posted on social media about your disappearance, and cooperated with law enforcement. But there were no answers, no trace of where you’d gone or why. The emptiness you left behind was palpable, a gaping hole in both their lives.

At first, Haewon believed they were grieving together. She felt the weight of your absence in every corner of her life, and Yunho, in his quiet way, did too. But then, she began to notice the way their relationship shifted. 

It was subtle at first: a slight distance in Yunho’s eyes, the way he seemed preoccupied even when they were alone. He would zone out in the middle of conversations, and even when he held Haewon in his arms, his heart wasn’t fully there. 

Slowly, painfully, she realized the truth. Yunho wasn’t just mourning you—he was waiting for you. He was still tethered to you, pulled by an invisible force that Haewon couldn’t compete with.

She never considered herself a mean girl. Sure, she had grown up in a comfortable world, surrounded by friends who were a little more tightly wounded and concerned with appearances. But now, standing on the other side of it, Haewon could see the truth for what it was. Yunho was never really hers to begin with. She hadn’t stolen him—not intentionally—but she had taken something that was never really hers to claim. 

Then there was Sungjae. 

Sungjae had never been a close friend, not really. He was more of a background figure—someone on the outskirts of Haewon’s social circle who, little by little, had weaseled his way in. He was everything Yunho wasn’t: impulsive, flirtatious, unpredictable. And it was those very qualities that ignited something in her.

The affair began quietly, like a secret Haewon wasn’t ready to admit even to herself. It started innocently enough—casual conversations, coffee outings after shared classes. They’d stay up late in the library, long after everyone else had left, talking about things that felt too personal, too vulnerable to share with anyone else. Haewon convinced herself it was nothing more than a close friendship—after all, she had a large circle of friends. What harm could one more friend do?

As time passed, the line between friendship and something more blurred. In the quiet moments following your disappearance, Haewon found herself relying on Sungjae in ways she hadn’t with Yunho in years. He became her anchor when the world felt uncertain, someone who made her feel alive and seen.

At first, it was easy to justify: she and Yunho had been drifting apart. Haewon had noticed it in the way their conversations had become shorter, less meaningful; the way they sat together in silence more often than not, the air between them filled with unspoken tension. 

But there was also something darker about Sungjae—something tied to the past Haewon desperately tried to forget. The night you disappeared, Sungjae had humiliated you, his cruel words cutting through the air as everyone watched in uncomfortable silence. And Haewon had stood by, doing nothing. She had stayed silent, too afraid to confront him, too indifferent to speak up.

Yunho had done nothing, either. His usual kind, gentle demeanor had turned into passive inaction, making excuses whenever Haewon brought up the topic like "It's just a phase" or "They’ll work it out."

“Do you think Sungjae had something to do with Y/N’s disappearance?” Haewon suddenly blurted out as the two were cooking dinner. 

Yunho froze, his jaw tightening. He knew the answer—he had always known. The last time anyone had seen you was when you stormed out of the apartment, cheeks flushed with shame and frustration. And yet, Yunho couldn’t admit it out loud. Admitting that Sungjae was responsible meant confronting his own failure, his own role in pushing you away.

“If he did,” Yunho said, his voice low, a dangerous edge creeping in, “I’ll kill him myself.”

“But you were the last one who saw her.”

His entire body tensed, the weight of Haewon’s accusation hitting him harder than he expected. He turned to face her fully, eyes dark and cold.

“You think I had something to do with Y/N’s disappearance?” His voice was low, hurt and anger threading through each word. He could feel the bile rising in his chest, burning with the injustice of her suspicion.

“That’s not what I said—”

“But it’s what you meant.” Yunho cut her off. “You think I’m the reason she’s gone?”

“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” she murmured, her voice softer now, though the accusation still lingered between them. 

“All I did was walk her out, and the CCTV proved that! You have no idea how much Y/N’s disappearance is affecting me! But to even suggest that I could’ve done something…” His voice trailed off, swallowed by a surge of emotion.

“I can’t do this,” Yunho muttered, his voice barely audible now as he turned away from her. Grabbing his jacket off the chair, he headed for the door, his movements tense and deliberate. “I’m done with this conversation.”

His footsteps faltered just before reaching the door, the frustration inside him boiling over. He spun back to face Haewon, his voice sharp and biting.

“Every time it comes to Sungjae, you choose him. Why?”

“I–” Haewon’s voice cracked, but Yunho didn’t stop. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving a deafening silence in his wake.

Haewon knew it wasn’t fair to keep dragging him along when her heart was no longer fully his. But the thought of actually leaving—the finality of it—terrified her. The knowledge that once she walked away, there would be no going back was something she wasn’t sure she could handle.

And then Yunho proposed. 

It caught her completely off guard—a moment she hadn’t prepared for despite all her doubts and uncertainty. She hadn’t expected him to propose, not now. But instead of facing the truth, instead of admitting that her heart had drifted away and she was entangled in an affair with someone else, Haewon did the only thing she could think of: she convinced herself that accepting Yunho’s proposal would fix everything.

Haewon felt trapped. She felt the walls closing in, suffocating her as she tried to play the part of the happy fiancée. On the night of the engagement party, everyone around them was celebrating, toasting to their future, but all she could think about was how wrong it all felt. Her heart wasn’t in it—not fully—and she knew it.

The alcohol didn’t help. Glass after glass, Haewon drank to drown out the noise in her head, to silence the guilt and doubt. She wanted to forget, to numb herself to everything, but instead, it only made her feel more exposed.

She avoided Yunho most of the night, choosing instead to party with her friends, laughing too loudly, her smile brittle around the edges. Yunho tried to get her to slow down, to pull her back to him, to hold her close, but every time he did, it felt like the air was being sucked out of her lungs. It wasn’t his fault, but being near him only made the weight of her choices heavier.

Finally, something inside her snapped. Right there, in front of everyone. The frustration, the guilt, the suffocating pressure of pretending—it all came to the surface. She knew it was unfair, that Yunho didn’t deserve it, but she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. 

Now, as she laid in bed next to Sungjae, the weight of her betrayal closed in on her. The wedding was fast approaching, a date circled on the calendar like a death sentence, and there was no backing out now. The dress had been chosen, the invitations sent. Everyone was expecting a celebration, but all Haewon could feel was dread. 

Yunho had betrayed you too, hadn’t he? He had stood on the sidelines, just as complicit, watching as Sungjae’s cruelty unraveled you. And yet, he had stayed—stayed with her, proposed to her, tried to build a future with her. It was laughable. 

The two of them, pretending like they could escape what they’d done, like they could forge something real out of ashes. But the truth had always been there, lurking beneath the surface. 

They were no better than the man lying next to her now.

Perhaps this was what she and Yunho both deserved—two people who had betrayed you, condemned to a life of misery together.

Life in the Emporium was nothing short of magical surprises.

Each day began with a quiet ritual, a moment of calm before the shop's unique energy fully awoke. The first thing you’d do each morning was reach for the incense—carefully selected for its cleansing properties—and light it. As the fragrant smoke curled into the air, it seemed to reset the entire space, gently sweeping away the lingering energies left behind by the previous day’s visitors.

Above, the flowers in the hanging garden stirred with the first touch of morning light, their vibrant petals responding as if in greeting. You watered them with a flick of the wrist, though it felt more like a gesture of care than necessity—they thrived on the shop's magic more than on water.

The shop had its own rhythm, a delicate balance between the mundane and the mystical. Travelers, clients, and even the occasional spirit wandered in, drawn by the promise of wishes granted—some simple, others far more complicated. You had seen all kinds: the weary traveler who just wanted safe passage home, the desperate lover seeking a second chance, or the ambitious merchant hoping to change their fortune.

But nothing in the emporium was granted without a cost, and the price wasn’t paid in gold or silver. Every transaction required something far more precious—a wish. Not the kind made on a whim, but a deeply held desire, pulled from the very core of one’s soul.

You would watch as they approached the counter, hands trembling ever so slightly as they revealed their request. Their eyes flickered with doubt as the weight of the exchange settled upon them. Standing before you, they were caught between what they needed and what they were about to give up, realizing that their wish, once surrendered, would be gone forever.

You always asked if they were certain. If they understood the nature of their sacrifice. But the emporium never rejected a payment once it was offered. 

You had become accustomed to the shop’s quirks, trusting its ancient magic to maintain a balance that you could only partly comprehend. It was more than a shop; it was a living entity, guiding not only the customers but you, its keeper, shaping the course of both your lives in subtle, unseen ways.

Everything functioned smoothly, like clockwork—until the day Yunho arrived.

From the moment Yunho stepped into the emporium, his presence unsettled you. There was a calm assurance in the way he carried himself, grounding everything around you. Despite never having met him before, something inside you insisted Yunho wasn’t a stranger. 

You recalled the strange memories that had flooded your senses—the wind whipping around you as you sat in a car with Yunho, the sun illuminating the way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. It felt so real, as if you’d lived that moment before, but then it dissolved into something deeper, something raw. 

The emotions had gripped you before you could react, dragging you under like a riptide. Your knees buckled, and the world tilted, leaving you gasping for air. Yunho was there, of course. Even through the thick haze of your feelings, he kept you steady, his arms the only thing keeping you from crumbling completely.

Even now, the echoes of that moment lingered in your body. You could still feel the weight of the emotions that had passed through you, as if the magic had left an imprint on your soul. 

“Fate has already tied their threads together.”

Your mind raced, trying to grasp Hongjoong and Wooyoung’s conversation. 

What did that mean? What threads? Could the connection you felt—this strange, undeniable pull—be part of some cosmic plan, one that had existed long before you even stepped foot in the emporium?

But how could you accept something so profound when you couldn’t even remember him? The thought haunted you, and yet, deep down, the pull toward Yunho only grew stronger, as if Fate itself refused to let you walk away.

You sighed, taking a long drag from your pipe, leaning back as you watched a few late summer blooms drift down from the skylight’s hanging garden. Their petals fluttered like tiny omens in the gentle breeze. Fall had arrived, and with the change in seasons, the line between the living and the departed would thin, bringing even more travelers and clients from different realms. 

The bell above the door jingled faintly, drawing your attention. You glanced over, catching the sleek, shadowy form slipping through the crack in the door—a flash of fur before it darted out into the evening. You immediately knew who it was.

“Wooyoung,” you called out. The cat froze mid-step, his tail twitching with surprise. Slowly, he turned his head, his onyx eyes gleaming mischievously in the dim light.

“Don’t even try it,” you added, placing your hands on your hips. He blinked at you, feigning innocence, but you weren’t about to let him slink away without answers this time.

The cat stretched lazily, as if he hadn’t just been caught trying to sneak out, then padded toward you with that familiar, too-casual saunter. By the time he reached you, he shifted back into his human form with a dramatic sigh, ruffling his messy hair as if you’d truly inconvenienced him.

“I was just stepping out,” Wooyoung said, giving you that infuriating smirk of his. “Needed some air. It’s stuffy in here with all this—" He waved his hand around vaguely, “—magic.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it. “You are magic, Wooyoung.” Your tone was teasing, playful. “Haven’t you had enough of the outside world and tormenting humans for one lifetime?”

“I’m a cat. Gotta see what the world’s up to,” he shrugged. 

There was a beat of silence, and you took a breath before speaking. “I heard your conversation with Hongjoong last night.”

Wooyoung froze for the briefest moment, his eyes widening just slightly before he masked it with another lazy grin. The shift in his demeanor was quick, but you’d known him long enough to recognize the flicker of panic he tried to bury. 

"It’s not polite to eavesdrop," he teased, his voice light but edged with a subtle wariness.

You weren’t about to let him wiggle his way out of this one. You had seen the way he was squirming, avoiding the real issue, and this time you needed answers. 

"What does fate have to do with me and Yunho?"

His smile faltered, a crack in his usual carefree facade. Wooyoung shifted uneasily, searching for the right words to soften the blow, but knowing there was no easy way out. He could feel your frustration mounting, the tension stretching unbearably thin.

"It’s... well, it’s like this," His voice lowered, and for once, he sounded serious. "Hongjoong thinks you and Yunho are bound together in ways that we don’t fully understand. It’s something that’s deeper and older…something that humans refer to as soulmates."

Soulmates.

It sounded ridiculous, unbelievable. You and Yunho, tied together by fate? He was just a traveler, someone the shop had revealed itself to. There was nothing special about him. 

"How?" you scoffed, shaking your head as if the mere action would dispel the ridiculous notion. "He’s a stranger, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. He shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at you. 

"Well… the thing is you have met him before.” But the thing is... you don’t remember. Because you can’t, Wooyoung wanted to say. 

"What are you talking about? Then why can’t I remember him? What did I forget?"

Your chest tightened. The frustration, the confusion, the pull you’d felt around Yunho ever since he first entered the shop—it all started to transform into something deeper, something more unsettling. It was as if a fog was lifting, revealing shadows of memories you couldn’t quite grasp.

He let out a long breath, rubbing his face. "It’s complicated. There are things...about you, that you don’t remember. That you chose not to remember."

Your mind raced. Memories? With Yunho? The man you barely knew, who had walked into your life like any other traveler? It didn’t make sense. None of this did.

"If I erased him from my life, then maybe I had a reason," you snapped, the words tasting bitter. Wooyoung winced but didn’t argue. 

"Fate doesn’t just disappear because you forget. He’s still tied to you, even if you can’t feel it." He paused, his eyes searching your face, hoping for some sign of understanding. "Maybe it’s why the shop revealed itself to him. It’s fate, pulling you back together."

You could feel the ground slipping from beneath you, your grip on reality loosening with every word he spoke. What Wooyoung was suggesting—soulmates, forgotten love, fate—it sounded like something out of a dream, a fantasy too far removed from the life you knew. 

"Why does it matter if I’m connected to him or not?" you continued, your throat tightening as the question lodged itself there, too painful to speak.

The air grew heavy, thick with tension, as if the walls themselves were reacting to the storm brewing inside you. The shelves rattled, and the shop’s energy pulsed erratically, reflecting the confusion and fear you could no longer keep at bay. The lanterns flickered wildly, casting frantic shadows that danced along the walls, twisting in the growing unease.

You tried to steady your breathing, to calm the chaos within, but your mind raced with unanswered questions, with the gnawing suspicion that Wooyoung was right, and it terrified you. 

Wooyoung’s face fell, the spark of his usual wit dimming into something darker, something almost sorrowful. He shifted uncomfortably again, as though he wished to be anywhere but here, at this moment.

"Because no one wants to see you hurting, Y/N,” His voice was barely above a whisper, thick with regret. "You were in so much pain that you thought forgetting him and becoming the keeper would make it stop."

That name again. Y/N. It echoed in your mind, a foreign weight on your chest. It felt like a name you should know, but it slipped through your grasp. A name tied to a life you no longer remembered. 

"That toy," he continued, "it triggered something, didn’t it? The memories—the emotions—they were too strong. And when you felt that, your magic went unstable. The shop could barely handle it."

You shuddered, the memory of that moment still fresh, still raw. But one question clawed at you, louder than the chaos you’d unleashed.

What had been so unbearable that the only answer was to forget?

“Why is it so cold?” you groaned, bouncing on your toes and rubbing your hands together, trying to get the blood flowing. 

The train station was always drafty, but today it felt like the cold had settled into your bones, refusing to leave. You shivered and glanced around, surprised to see no snow on the ground. It was odd—this time of year usually meant blankets of white everywhere, the world covered in a quiet stillness. Yet now, all you had was the biting wind and a gray sky threatening snow that never seemed to come.

Yunho stood beside you, his breath puffing out in small clouds as he huddled deeper into his coat. He laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked at you. 

“You’re always cold,” he teased, nudging your arm with his elbow. “Should’ve worn more layers.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re practically a furnace,” you grumbled. 

The two of you had decided to take the train home for the holidays after your first semester of university. You were both exhausted—finals had drained whatever energy you had left—but there was excitement in the air as Christmas approached. 

“I’m surprised there’s no snow,” you mused, gazing up at the dull, overcast sky. The clouds hung low, thick and heavy, but still no sign of snowflakes falling. “Feels weird, doesn’t it? Christmas without snow.”

Yunho hummed in agreement beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat as he followed your gaze. “Yeah, it’s like something’s missing. Hopefully, it’ll snow while we’re home.”

His voice was hopeful, and you could see the small spark of excitement in his eyes. Yunho loved snow—it wasn’t just the beauty of it, but the way it brought a sense of stillness and magic to the world. The kind of magic that reminded you both of simpler times, of building snowmen as kids and staying out too long until your fingers were numb.

The next morning, Yunho’s wish came true.

Snow. Fresh, untouched snow covered everything. The rooftops, the streets, the trees—it all glistened under the early morning light, as if the entire world had been dipped in magic overnight. 

This was the moment he’d been waiting for, the moment he hoped for when you both had been standing at the train station, wondering if Christmas would even feel like Christmas without snow. Now, it was here. His wish had come true.

But more than that, he wanted to share this moment with you.

You blinked up at the sky, a few lazy snowflakes still drifting down, landing on your lashes and melting against your skin. Yunho stood beside you, watching the way your eyes lit up, the way you took in the moment like it was something precious. 

The two of you stood there for a while, wordlessly watching the snowfall together. It was the kind of stillness that felt sacred, the kind that only came with the first snow of the season. 

As Yunho glanced at you, his breath caught. You weren’t doing anything special—just standing there, bundled up in your oversized hoodie, your hair slightly messy from sleep, your cheeks flushed from the cold. You weren’t trying to impress anyone, least of all him. You were just you, in the most effortless way, and somehow, that had always been enough.

There was a simplicity to the moment that felt different, more profound than he expected. Last summer, when you’d spent long, sunny days together, he’d thought he understood what he felt for you. He cared about you more than anyone, maybe more than he should’ve let on. It was a love that had grown quietly, steadily, and was beginning to envelop him. 

It was too easy to love you. Too effortless, too natural, as if his heart had always been meant for you. And that’s what made it so dangerous.

He knew that sometimes, love—no matter how powerful—wasn’t enough. The thought of risking what you had—this simple, effortless connection that meant everything to him—for something as unpredictable as love felt like falling into the ocean.

And Yunho wasn’t ready to make the jump. 

He groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples as if that could somehow ease the pounding in his skull. His head felt like it was being split open, a dull, relentless ache that refused to let up. The events of the previous night were a blur—fragments of conversation, too many drinks, and the sinking realization that he’d gone well past his limit.

He’s supposed to head back to Seoul today, back to his life and the steady rhythm of work that usually kept his life in order. But there was no way he could face that right now, not with the amount of alcohol that had been consumed. 

The events of last night came back to him in disjointed, hazy flashes. He remembered the way your fingers brushed against the plush toy, followed by the sudden paling of your face right before you collapsed to the floor. 

Yunho’s heart had nearly stopped at that moment, the world around him crashing into stillness. The usual hum of the emporium faded into nothing, the vibrant colors of the shelves and strange objects blurring into meaningless shapes. 

His legs moved before his mind could catch up, and he was running, sprinting toward you as if the very air had been torn from his lungs. The world shrank, narrowing to the sight of you lifeless in his arms.

"Y/N, stay with me," he whispered, panic thick in his voice as he cradled your unconscious body. It was the same terror he’d felt the day you disappeared, the same helpless, gut-wrenching fear that had kept him awake at night, haunted by the thought that he’d never see you again.

Yunho held you like his entire world depended on it, his arms wrapped tightly around you, desperate and unrelenting. He pressed his forehead against yours, as he cradled your head against his chest, the warmth of your skin barely noticeable as panic surged inside him.

“I’m sorry, just please, please don’t leave me,” he begged, his voice barely holding together. His fingers tightened their grip on you, trembling with the fear that if he let go, even for a second, you’d slip away for good.

He couldn’t lose you, not when he had just found you again.

Then came Wooyoung’s revelation. You had chosen to disappear from his life. It wasn’t an accident, or some cruel twist of fate. You had asked the shop to erase your memories—all of them. He could still hear Wooyoung’s voice, bitter and sharp, recounting the details, but the exact reason why Wooyoung had been so angry at him was lost in the fog of the night.

He remembered the sting—the way the door slammed behind him, the coldness of the night hitting his face as he stood there, dazed, confused and frustrated. You were alive, bound to this strange realm by forces he didn’t fully understand. But worse than that, you had willingly cut him out of your life.

After that, things blurred even more. He’d ended up at a bar, the numbness setting in as he ordered drink after drink, trying to drown the sea of emotions that threatened to consume him. Somewhere along the way, Yeosang had joined him, and Yunho found himself pouring his heart out—his frustrations, his guilt, his failures. He had ranted about the weight of trying to be the good guy while everything around him crumbled.

Now, in the harsh light of day, the weight of it all hit him with a different kind of intensity. His heart felt heavy, and he had no idea where to go from here.

Yunho sat up, staring at his phone as if it might give him the answers he was too afraid to ask for. His thumb hovered over Haewon’s name on the screen, trembling slightly. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say—he didn’t have a plan, only a sinking feeling in his chest that told him he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine. 

The line rang once, then twice. By the third ring, his heart had started racing, the weight of everything he had to confront pressing down on him like a vice. When it went to voicemail, Yunho’s stomach dropped.

“Hey, it’s Haewon! Sorry I missed your call, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon!”

The artificial cheer in her voice made his skin crawl, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. He could almost picture her—smiling, carefree, the version of her that had loved him wholeheartedly. But that wasn’t who she was anymore. That wasn’t who they were.

"Hey..." he finally whispered, “give me a call when you get a chance.” Yunho waited for a beat, as if hoping she might pick up at the last second, but the line remained silent, empty.

“Yunho? Aren’t you getting ready to head back?” His mom’s voice was gentle, but it startled him from his thoughts. She appeared in the doorway, concern etched in the lines of her face. 

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know if I’m going back,” he admitted softly, his voice thick with uncertainty. 

His mom walked in, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, her presence warm and calming. She had always been able to read him better than anyone, even when he was trying his best to hide. Mrs. Jeong didn’t say anything for a moment, just letting the silence hang between them, giving him the space to breathe.

“Tell me more.”

Yunho sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of everything he’d been holding in. It was strange—he felt like a teenager again, venting to his mom about his problems, but this time it felt more suffocating. The future he had thought he wanted, the life he had worked so hard to build, no longer felt like his.

“I’m hungover. I’m miserable. I don’t want to marry Haewon. I’m not happy with my job or where I am in my life. Mingi is my only friend, Yeosang kind of hates me, and Y/N…” He let out a watery chuckle, the sound laced with bitterness. “She’s gone.”

There it was, the truth laid bare—the reality that had been gnawing at him for months, too terrifying to confront. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything he had been trying to ignore.

Mrs. Jeong’s gaze softened as she listened, her heart heavy with a mother’s instinct to protect, but knowing she couldn’t fix this for him. She reached out, placing a hand over his. 

“You’ve been carrying this for a while, haven’t you?” Her voice was soft, laced with a sadness that only came from witnessing the quiet battles of someone you love.

Yunho looked down to their joined hands, his throat tightening. The words he had held back for so long hovered on the edge of his lips, threatening to escape. 

“I thought I could handle it. But—" He paused, his fingers gripping hers a little tighter, his chest heaving as he fought to keep the floodgates closed. 

"I don’t want to keep pretending I’m okay,” he continued, voice cracking slightly. “I’m tired, Mom. Of the job, the engagement, everything. It’s like I’m suffocating, and I don’t know how to breathe anymore.” he replied, quieter now, almost like he was talking to himself. It was the first time he’d admitted it out loud. The fear that had been chaining him to a future he didn’t want.

His mother exhaled softly, her brow furrowing as she absorbed his words. After a moment, she squeezed his hand and spoke gently, her voice calm but firm.

“You’ve always been so considerate. Always thinking of others. But have you thought about what you want? Truly want, not just what you think you should want?”

It wasn’t something Yunho had ever allowed himself to consider fully, and even now, the thought seemed almost too outlandish, too selfish. But the way his mother looked at him, with such understanding, made it feel less frightening, less impossible to confront.

“You’re allowed to want something different, Yunho. You’re allowed to change your mind. You’re allowed to choose yourself.”

Her words struck something within him, unraveling the tightly wound rope of expectations he had tangled himself in for so long. He hesitated, his heart pounding as he dared to voice the question that had haunted him for months.

“So you wouldn’t be upset if I called off the wedding?” His voice was small, almost as if he were afraid the very mention of it might cause everything to collapse around him.

His mother shook her head, her expression soft and reassuring. “Of course not, Yunho. Haewon is lovely, but…” She paused, choosing her words carefully, as she looked at him. “I always felt like she wasn’t the one for you.”

Yunho blinked, surprised by the admission. His mother had never said anything like that before, and in all their talks about the wedding, she had always been supportive, never giving any sign that she might have doubts of her own. 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” he asked, almost incredulous. 

“Because you’re finally listening to yourself. This is your life, not mine, not anyone else’s. It wasn’t my place to tell you how to live, Yunho. I wanted to believe that you knew what was best for you.”

“And if I quit my job?” he asked, testing the waters, anxiety sparking in his voice. 

“Gunho would be thrilled,” she laughed. “You know, he was absolutely livid when you took the finance job over the Tigers. I’ve never seen him so upset with you! He ranted for weeks about how you were wasting your talents behind a desk instead of being out there building the ultimate dream team.”

His mother’s laughter faded, replaced by a more serious expression. “We’ve all had our hopes for you, Yunho. But those were our hopes, not yours. Life’s not a straight line. It’s full of twists and turns. You don’t have to stay on a path that doesn’t feel right anymore.”

There was something comforting about the idea, the notion of stepping away from the path he had chosen, back to something that felt more like home—more like himself. Sitting with his mother, he began to wonder: What if it wasn’t reckless? What if choosing the life he truly wanted wasn’t some wild, selfish fantasy? What if it was okay to dream again?

His mind wandered to you, to the quiet snowfall and how the snowflakes caught on your lashes. He thought of that summer, driving to the beach, the wind in your hair and the sun beaming down on you, like the world itself couldn’t touch you as long as you were together.

He thought of meeting you for the first time at six years old, running across the street and greeting you as if he’d known him your entire life. It was as if he’d found his other half that day, the person who made him feel complete even in his innocence.

But then, more painfully, he thought of meeting you for the first time again. Only this time, you hadn’t known him at all. 

With you, there was no need to fill the silence. Everything felt easy, natural, like you were meant to exist beside each other. You were his best friend, the one person who made him feel like himself. And suddenly, Yunho knew. 

It was you. 

The version of himself that existed when he was with you—that was who he truly was. It was a terrifying realization, but at the same time, it was the most certain thing he’d felt in a long time. You had always been the one constant in his life, the one person who made everything feel okay, even when it wasn’t.

And he didn’t want to lose that. He didn’t want to lose you.

He wanted a future with you.

Yunho swallowed, his pulse quickening, but for the first time in what felt like forever, his mind was clear. 

“I think…” he began, his voice steady, resolute, “I know where I want to go from here.”

Pushing open the door, the familiar chime rang through the shop. It was empty, save for you, and Yunho’s breath caught when he saw you standing behind the counter, bathed in the glow of fading daylight. 

He glanced over at you, watching the way you moved, how you seemed so different and yet so familiar. The person standing in front of him was still you, the same person he’d known since childhood. The memories from childhood rushed back again—the snow, the summer sun, the first time you played baseball together. It all made sense now, in ways it never had before.

“Yunho,” you greeted, your voice carrying a warmth as you lifted your hand with a graceful flick. The scroll hovering beside you shimmered for a moment, then dissolved into the air, disappearing as if it had never existed. 

“How are you feeling?” Yunho asked quietly. There was something boyish, almost shy, in the way he looked at you, like he was a kid again, standing in front of his crush, hoping for something, anything, that would tell him he was making the right choice.

“Better. Thank you for being here the other night. It seems like you were a big help to Wooyoung.”

"I'm glad to hear that," he murmured, his voice soft as his gaze lingered on you, his eyes softening as if he were seeing you for the first time all over again. There was a quiet admiration that he couldn’t quite hide, no matter how hard he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"I uh…" he hesitated, his eyes flickered away for a moment, as if searching for courage in the silence between you, “I’m leaving for Seoul. Just to take care of some things. I wanted to see you before I left.”

You tilted your head, curiosity lighting up your eyes, the corners of your lips lifting in that familiar way that made his heart stutter. A playful yet gentle hum escaped your lips. 

“Oh? And why’s that?”

Your question hung in the air, teasing him, pulling at the tangled mess of feelings he'd tried to bury for so long. He looked at you, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he struggled to find the right response. 

“I—” he started, but his voice faltered. His pulse quickened, and for a moment, he felt completely exposed. “I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

The air around you seemed to still, the gravity of his admission settling like dust in the corners of the emporium. The idea of leaving felt wrong to him, and yet it was inevitable, something he had to do. 

Your eyes softened with understanding, feeling more like home than any place he could go. Something in your gaze recognized him, sensing the invisible thread that tied you together. 

“No matter where you are,” you said quietly, your voice carrying the same calm assurance that had always soothed him, “the emporium will always be within reach. As will I.”

The words were simple, yet they held a promise—a promise that went beyond physical space or memory. The emporium was never bound by the ordinary rules of the world, and neither, it seemed, were you. Your small, understanding smile made Yunho feel that, despite the uncertainty, everything would be okay.

“Besides,” you continued, a playful glint flickering in your eyes, “I can always ask Wooyoung to lend a helping hand. He knows the way.”

“That cat does nothing but bully me,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, recalling how Wooyoung had made him a target of mischief.

Your laugh filled the space between you, a sound that seemed to chase away the heaviness for just a moment. Though Yunho tried to maintain his frown, the corners of his lips betrayed him, lifting into a reluctant smile. 

Even though you didn’t remember him, it didn’t matter. There was something deeper between you, something unshakeable. And that, in its own way, gave him the strength he needed to leave.

You stepped forward, that invisible thread that had always seemed to exist between you tugged at your heart, drawing you toward him. It was a connection that transcended words, possibly even space and time. Yunho’s eyes lingered on you, their quiet intensity making your heart skip a beat.

“The next time I come into the shop,” he began, his voice low, “I’ll be ready to make my wish.”

You searched his face, trying to read the depths of what he meant, but all you found was that same gentle fervor staring back at you. 

“You’ve thought about it?”

“I have,” he admitted. “With everything that’s happening, I think I finally know what I want.”

The weight of his words settled between you like a promise. Whatever his wish was, it wasn’t something to be rushed—it belonged to the future, a time when he was ready to claim it. And somehow, you understood that.

“I’ll be waiting,” you whispered, though you knew Yunho heard it.

As he turned to leave, a sudden thought gripped you, pulling you back from the brink of your goodbye. “Yunho… before you leave…”

He froze at the sound of his name on your lips, his heart fluttering. Every breath, every glance, vibrated with something unspoken, something powerful.

“Who are you?” you asked, your voice soft, tentative. “To me?”

<< iii | v >>

taglist: @babymbbatinygirl @intowxnderland @hwasa28 @thedistractedwriter @beabatiny @lovelyglares @spenceatiny18 @tiny-apocalypse @sunnysidesins @heyitsmetonid @jwone @laurenwidjaja @potatos-on-clouds @xuchiya @syubseokie

[sweetimpurity]

i think i speak for alotta Miguel lovers...but we need more blue collar Miguel. Bots AND fics.

🍊 no.2

Whatever you like. Mechanic. Engineer. Construction. Welder. Bricklayer. Tiler.

Could be in a relationship with us or maybe just the guy who comes around.... Oh even a maintenance man. Handy man. Bob the builder. Nah. But we all know we'd love to see him working a car..

Thank you anon for all these wonderful requests! I'm working my way through them and consuming the necessary media to do these justice haha! I love it! 🍊

These bots can all be found on my profile: sweetimpurity on c.ai!

Blue collar husband ೄྀ---ˊˎ-

He’s tired and dirty after work…

He's tired and dirty, sore and achy. Coming home after an insanely long day and walking up the steps to the front door is his last big hill to climb. All he could think about all day was your pretty face. He absolutely hated leaving the bed this morning. Wanted to stay there with you in his arms. But his job is demanding and tough. A different construction sight, more shingles, new bricks to be laid all the time. But he does it all for you. Even more than for himself.

He finally makes it to the door, opening it with his key and stepping in. Relishing in the quiet of the apartment, knowing you're in here somewhere.

"Baby, I'm home..." He calls softly, putting his bag down, peeling his jacket off and the hat he was wearing pretty much all day. "Jesus..." He sighs, seeing the dust covering the brim of the cap, watching it fall off onto the carpet and onto his hands. "I'm filthy..."

Handyman Miguel  :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

He’s come to fix your pipes… 😉

The faucet is leaking again. Of course. Because as soon as you get someone to come fix your radiator, something else would break. With the cabinets under the sink wide open, towels scattered across the floor, the boards under the sink soaked and warped, cleaning supplies and things all scattered across the kitchen floor... you're just waiting for your savior to finally come. The plumber you called in a sort of emergency request to help stop your floor from completely flooding through.

So antsy you wait here. You live alone so there aren't any roommates sharing in your panic. Watching the pipes leak into a pan under the sink, checking it every half hour. Watering your plants on the fire escape with the water that collects. Then instantly putting the pan back under there to collect the water seeping out through the threads of the pipes. Feeling quite helpless.

Finally after this process continued all morning long, there's a knock at the apartment door. You're in the process of bringing the pan back to the sink when you hear it. "Just a second!" You call frantically, putting it down and rushing over to the door. Practically ripping it open. And delivering a long winded explanation of everything that's gone on all day, all in one breath, all in a panic.

The poor handy man stands there, listening to your panicked retelling of all that's gone on. His dark eyes slightly widened, looking down at you from his tall height with soft concern.

Extra! *ೃ༄

Firefighter husband 

Your lifesaver…

"Pa! Pa! Papa!" His little girl squeals, bouncing up and down as he pulls his jacket off and puts his bag down after a long day at the station. Some routine checks and a car accident on the interstate were what made up his day today and he's tired to say the least. But seeing his kids and you makes it all worth it.

"Hey mija..." He grins, picking her up as much as it strains his muscles. Giving her big kisses on her chubby little cheek as she instantly starts telling him all about her day. Soon after, he sees you and the other little ones emerge from the kitchen to greet him at the door. He's grateful for his family after a day like that. To see everyone's faces after the day he had is like heaven.

Kinda went overboard ha! I hope you like them! And if you have any critiques or the links don't work let me know! Love ya! More to come...

[petew21-blog]

Great Shift stories, Henry and Joey

Paparazzi:"Gentlemen, smile. Look to the right. Yeah. Good"

Henry and Joey were at the front of the hall, where the press conference was about to be held, before the release of the new Witcher season. They were all instructed to suit up and arrive. Henry felt like he was betraying Joey. They were about to announce soon, that he was leaving the Witcher TV series and passing the role to Liam Hemsworth. Henry didn't want to continue playing Geralt if the story wouldn't be more faithful to the books. Unfortunately, Joey already signed his contract and therefore had to play Jaskier for another year without Henry.

They stood next to each other. Joey couldn't pretend that he was happy. He was angry, because Henry didn't tell him soon enough how he felt and that he was leaving, trapping Joey in a job he started to hate. He felt betrayed

Back then nobody knew what happened in the following moments. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was intentional. But all they knew was that suddenly all around them was pure chaos. The whole city confused and screaming. Most of the planet swapped bodies with someone standing close to them. Some were very unlucky, in some cases the swap was lethal or caused many people to die. But some people got really lucky. Just like Joey and Henry here

They were obviously both shocked when they found themselves in each other's bodies. But they were interrupted by the people around them screaming and shouting at each other.

Joey in Henry's body:"Henry? Is that you? I'm you!"

Henry in Joey's body:"Is this real? Is it really happening?"

Joey:"I think it is. And I don't think we're the only ones. Maybe we should go somewhere more quiet."

Joey starts walking away, but as soon as Henry moves his body a sharp pain shoots from the back of his body.

Henry:"Ah fuck. Wait. There's something wrong. It feels like..."

Joey started smiling, realising.

Henry didn't find the pain that bad anymore and was slowly figuring out, what it was.

Henry:"Joey? Is that what I think it is?"

Joey:"I don't know what you're talking about"

Henry started laughing at his old face

Henry:"Hahahaha. No you didn't. Holy shit you're naughty, Joey. You really went to a press con with a dildo up your ass? Wow. I never thought that you'd be able to do this."

Joey:"Maybe we should go?"

Henry:"Oh fuck, we are. I really need to take a proper look at that thing stuck inside of me now "

Joey went first and couldn't stop smiling, as he heard Henry struggling to walk properly

But Henry was getting more and more into it. He never had a dildo up his ass. And this one was BIG.

They got into an empty hotel room nearby.

Joey went to the bathroom first to piss and left Henry outside. Henry started throwing his clothes off to the ground. But stopped, once he felt the thing in him move. He got on his knees and felt his own ass trying to push it in and out. An overwhelming feeling caused him to moan out loud and hold ok tightly to the bed sheets.

He heard the bathroom door open

Joey:"You wanna use the bathroom?"

Henry got up and without saying a word went to the bathroom while grabbing his old body's cheeks playfully on the way.

He wanted to look at himself in the mirror, but he needed the dildo to move. He needed to find a better position. But another unwanted movement caused him to collapse into the bath still in his clothes.

He just sat there leaning on the edges of the bath, moving his ass up and down in the air. Causing the dildo to move up and down. He was now covered in sweat. His body was begging to be fucked

Joey:"You need some help with that?" He pointed at his ass

Henry needed to be fucked. And there was a thing much better than the dildo in his ass

He leaned to the front and grabbed his old semi-hard bulge looking seductively into his old eyes

Henry:"Whip it out big boy. You got a hole to patch. And I need it"

Joey:"Are you sure you..."

Henry:"Fuck me right now!!!"

Joey threw off his pants and boxers. Leaving himself in Henry's Grey shirt only

Henry:"I want you to show me how you can be better than that dildo"

Joey:"I'm not really sure about this"

Henry:"Please just fuck me already. I can't take this anymore"

Joey helped Henry to take off his clothes. He turned him around to let him hold the edge of the bath. He then grabbed the base off the dildo and started moving it up and down rythmically. Henry was moaning in pleasure. No, he was screaming

As soon as Joey got hard, he pulled out the dildo and showed his new huge dick into his old ass. Henry couldn't even tell the difference. But now it was warmer, pulsating. And Joey was pounding him.

They were now one. Combined. Sweaty. Joey was deep inside of Henry moving his intestines.

Henry:"Ah ah ah ah. Fuck me... I need you"

Joey couldn't hold it anymore, he pulled out his new dick and shoot the load at his old back.

He was breathing rapidly from the fast tempo. Henry was still holding on. But Joey moved his head to the side and noticed his old dick leaking cum

Joey smiled. Yeah, fuck the betrayal. He's gonna be punishing him for that very often from now own.

Anonymous inbox request:

What about the great shift strikes. And everyone is swapped with the closest person at the moment. A story where henry cavill gets swapped with joey batey before some press con. And henry finds that joey's body has a dildo up his ass and he's so turned up that he begs joey to fuck him.

[onepiece-writting-forest]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 5 - ʟᴀᴛᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜰᴜɴ

Summary: After your shared exam was finally over, Law invites you to the party, showing a more relaxed side of himself. As the night progresses, his boldness starts to emerge, especially after a few drinking games and making out session in the bathroom.

a.n.: Ikakku as the bartender, Shachi being drunk and Penguin somewhere drunk as well. Enjoy! (4,5k words whoops got a bit carried away)

tags: One Piece, Law x Reader, Modern AU, University AU, Penguin and Shachi as Laws flat mate, Law on a sick motorcycle cuz its hot

>>[ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴᴅᴇx]<<

“You invited her?! Dude, nice!” Shachi exclaimed, holding up a hand for a high-five.

Law just stared at it, unimpressed, and ignored the gesture. He didn’t really feel like it was something to celebrate. Sure, he was glad you wanted to come to the party, but beyond that? Whatever. He was more relieved the exam was over and had gone well. The fact that you’d be there too? Casual excitement—nothing to make a big deal about.

"Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your party?" Law said, towel-drying his damp hair while still dressed in his sweatpants. He had a bit of time before he needed to pick you up. After giving you the address and realizing how far the nearest bus stop was from the party, he suggested giving you a ride.

“Boo, you’re such a buzzkill,” Shachi grinned, throwing on his jacket and grabbing his keys. “Better bring a better mood to the party.”

“Whatever.", Law scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Aigh, see ya later!” Shachi called over his shoulder, before heading out the door.

Law watched him leave, glad for the silence settling in the apartment. He took a deep breath, finishing up getting ready, and tried to shake off the exhaustion...or was he nervous?

While Law was casually getting ready, you were in a whirlwind of chaos. It wasn’t that you were nervous—okay, maybe just a little. Who were you kidding? You were a nervous wreck. It had been a while since you went out with someone, let alone to a party full of strangers. At least Law would be there, a familiar face in the crowd. But speaking of Law, you really had to hurry—he’d be there soon.

Minutes later, the doorbell rang, just as you managed to pull yourself together. Grabbing whatever you might need, you hurried to the door and opened it, greeted by Law, who looked pretty much the same as always. His hair was a little neater than usual, but what really caught your eye was the extra helmet he was holding.

"Hey, you ready?" he asked, his tone as casual as ever. You nodded, quickly closing your apartment door behind you, and followed him outside…while your keys were still on the kitchen counter.

"Thanks again for giving me a ride," you said with a smile, tugging your jacket tighter against the chilly night air. Law shrugged, as if to say it was no big deal, and handed you the extra helmet.

"You know how to backpack?" he asked suddenly, and you blinked, confused. Backpack? What?

Seeing your puzzled look, Law grinned and nodded toward his motorcycle. "Sitting behind someone on a motorcycle."

You couldn’t help but chuckle. "That’s kind of a cute term. But no, I haven’t done that before."

Law gave a small nod and stepped toward his bike. "No worries, it’s easy. I’ll show you."

He straddled the motorcycle first effortlessly, then waited as you climbed on behind him. He knew it took a little getting used to the first time, but thankfully, the ride wasn’t too long. “You can put your feet here,” he instructed, pointing to the foot pegs. “Hold on tight to me, and lean with me when we hit the curves. That’s all there is to it.”

You gave a quick nod and pulled on your helmet as Law did the same. Before you could adjust it, he turned around and snapped your visor shut, then clicked his own into place. You watched, before he fired the engine to life with a throaty roar.

Feeling a bit unsure, you leaned forward slightly, gripping the sides of his jacket with a tentative hold. Law noticed and stopped for a moment, then without warning, he reached for your hands and pulled them tighter around his waist, making you grip his chest and fall against his back. The sudden closeness made your heart race.

“I said tight,” he teased, his voice laced with amusement. “Don’t want you falling off.”

A light, embarrassed chuckle escaped you as you adjusted your grip, hugging him more securely. “Right, got it,” you murmured.

With a grin you could almost hear, Law revved the engine, and moments later, you were off.

 “Come, this way,” Law said, nodding toward the faint sound of music already seeping into the air. You followed him while you two left the bike at a parking spot, feeling the buzz of anticipation as you approached the building. The party was tucked away in the basement, and as you descended the steps, the volume of the music grew louder.

The moment you stepped inside, you were hit by the heavy, stuffy air mixed with the distinct smells of alcohol and something you couldn’t quite place. The crowd was already thick, bodies swaying to the rhythm in the dark colorful lights, and despite the chaotic energy, there was something about the atmosphere that started to get you in the mood.

Law seemed familiar with the place, confidently navigating through the room. “Want to take off your jacket?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you replied, handing it over to him. When he pulled off his own leather jacket, though, something caught your eye. For the first time, you noticed the tattoos that stretched beyond his knuckles, trailing up his forearms. The black ink swirled in intricate patterns, with just a hint of it peeking from beneath the sleeve of his black T-shirt.

Suddenly, you felt a rush of heat. Was the room always this warm, or was it just you?

Law turned to you and gestured toward the bar, silently suggesting to get a drink. You nodded with a suddenly shy smile and followed him through the crowd. You had to admit, the party was surprisingly well-organized. The lighting, the music, the setup—everything looked pretty impressive, especially the bar. Apparently, the engineering students knew how to throw a party.

When you reached the bar, a young woman with dark, curly hair held back by a bright yellow headband greeted you with a warm smile. Her eyes landed on you first, then shifted to Law.

“Hey, Law! Glad you could make it!” she said cheerfully.

“Pleasure's mine, Ikkaku,” Law replied, giving her a friendly smile. It was clear they knew each other. You stood there, a little shy, but smiled politely.

“Oh, hi! I’m Ikkaku! I don’t think we’ve met before,” the woman said, extending a hand toward you. You shook it and introduced yourself, instantly being taking in by her radiating smile.

“Y/N, nice to meet you.”

Law watched the exchange, a small smile tugging at his lips. He wasn’t too worried about you meeting Ikkaku. Unlike Shachi and Penguin, who could be a bit much at times, Ikkaku was a breath of fresh air. She radiated confidence and had a feisty side that Law respected very much.

“So, what can I get you two?” Ikkaku asked, leaning forward with a grin. “First drink’s on the house.”

“You got the northern vodka by any chance?” Law asked, leaning slightly forward with a casual air. Ikkaku’s grin widened, clearly in on it. Of course she had it, especially since Shachi had specifically brought it for the party. He’d stashed it under the bar, trusting Ikkaku to keep an eye on it and only serve it to close friends. After all, it wasn’t cheap or easy to come by.

“Sure do. With soda?” she asked.

“Yes, please, but for the love of god, mix the drink like a human this time,” Law said, causing Ikkaku to laugh along.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she teased, shaking her head with a playful grin as she turned toward you. “And for you, Y/N?”

You placed your order, and she got to work, carefully mixing both drinks. As promised, she kept it reasonable, not trying to drown either of you in alcohol. Law kept an eye on her as she poured, just to be sure she didn’t pull any tricks. The memory of getting absolutely trashed on the first he came here flashed in his mind—along with the unpleasant experience of throwing up into his helmet. He was careful not to repeat that disaster tonight.

With your drinks, you both decided to move to a quieter table, away from the crowd. Setting your glasses down, you slipped into an easy rhythm of conversation.

“So, you said your friends were here too?” you asked, leaning in a bit closer.

Law hummed in response, casually leaning back as his eyes scanned the crowd. His long legs stretched out below the table, brushing your knee ever so slightly.

“Yeah,” he said, finally nodding towards a corner of the room. “See the guy over there trying—and failing—to juggle the beer pong balls? That’s Shachi. He’s studying engineering, good friends with Ikkaku, the bartender.” His gaze shifted to another spot. “And that’s Penguin, the guy in the beanie. You’ve met him before, right? We live together.”

You chuckled at the sight of Shachi fumbling with the beer pong balls. “Penguin seemed pretty nice when I met him. Shachi, though… definitely can’t juggle.”

“Nope,” Law said, grinning as he took a sip of his drink. His eyes drifted back to you, and for a moment, he found himself quietly studying your face. It suddenly hit him how stunning you looked tonight, the soft light from the party casting a warm glow over your features. The way your eyes sparkled when you laughed, or even just how you looked at him—it was captivating. He found himself lingering in the moment longer than usual.

How has he never noticed how pretty you were?

You broke his trance suddenly by asking, “Kind of in a mood of beer pong, are you good at it?”

It caught him off guard a bit as he came back to reality, but only for a second. A playful grin spread across his face when he heard your suggestion. Was that a challenge?

“Maybe. Wanna find out and lose?” His voice had that teasing, competitive edge. Law could get fiercely competitive with games like these, a trait he knew well enough to admit. He didn’t just want to win—he needed to.

“Oh, I don’t plan on losing,” you said boldly, ready for a challenge.

Law raised an eyebrow, the spark of competition fully lit and enjoying your bold anticipation. “Alright, game on,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing up, already mentally preparing to take the win—or go down swinging.

You and Law made your way to the beer pong table tucked away in the corner, where Shachi was struggling to pick up the ping pong balls. He kept fumbling, his coordination long gone thanks to the alcohol he’d consumed. Law, amused by the scene, stood back with a lazy smile and simply watched his friend, leaving you to step in.

“Here, let me help,” you said, handing the ball directly to Shachi. He blinked up at you in surprise, clearly thrown off by your pretty face. For a second, he just stared, caught by how good you looked. But when he spotted Law next to you, the gears in his foggy mind slowly turned. As much as his drunken state allowed, he pieced things together. You must the girl he had the study date with.

"Law! There you are!" Shachi greeted, pulling him into a sloppy, brotherly hug, clapping him on the shoulder. As he did, he leaned in closer to Law and grinned, whispering into his ear, “You didn’t tell me she was hot.”

Law rolled his eyes at Shachi’s comment, a flicker of both annoyance and amusement crossing his face, but he didn’t bother to respond. Shachi, still riding the high of his drunken state, flashed you a wide playful grin.

"You guys wanna play?" he asked, already grabbing the cups with a clumsy enthusiasm.

You shared a glance with Law, and something unspoken passed between you, before you stepped closer to the table.

The game kicked off. You helped arrange the plastic cups, filling them with something light, cautious not to overdo it too soon. Law handed you the first ball with a subtle smirk, one that made your pulse quicken. He was watching you intently, his gaze lingering just a bit longer than necessary as you lined up your shot.

With a flick of your wrist, the ball sailed effortlessly into the cup. You grinned, teasing him with a playful look. “Try to keep up,” you taunted lightly, savoring the first little victory.

Law raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into that faint, knowing smile. “Alright,” he said smoothly, before taking his first cup in one clean motion, his eyes never leaving yours.

For a moment your mind went blank, those stormy eyes locking with yours so intensely completely threw you off guard. You had a feeling Law knew what he was doing.

Shachi, playing the part of an overly enthusiastic referee, was more of a distraction for Law than anything else. He cheered only you on and did his best to throw Law off, witch loud coughs and "Look over there"s.

Every time Law stepped up to take his shot, there was an obvious tension in the air. He wasn’t just throwing the ball; he was challenging you with each toss, silently daring you to keep pace. And while you landed a few solid shots, Law’s precision was undeniable. Even when he had to hold on on the table, the alcohol clearly starting to catch up with him, he still managed to sink the ball into your cups with impressive accuracy.

By the time your side was completely wiped out, Law still had three cups standing. You huffed in mock frustration, but deep down, the competitiveness had only made things more fun.

Shachi clapped his hands together, grinning like an idiot. “Rules say you’ve gotta finish the winner’s cups!” he teased.

You sighed defeated, “Fine, Law. You win.”

As you reached for one of his cups, though, Law’s hand shot out, stopping you. His fingers brushed against yours, sending a small jolt of electricity through you. He held your gaze for a moment, before he spoke up. “Let’s share it. I’d rather not have to carry you home wasted.”

The teasing edge in his voice made your stomach flip, but the offer itself was unexpected. Law was competitive by nature, and Shachi knew he usually liked to rub his victories in. This time, though, he was...different.

You accepted his offer with a small smile, taking one of the cups while Shachi gleefully grabbed the last. Shachi, clearly impressed, raised an eyebrow at Law. “Wow, Law. Didn’t expect you to go soft on her.”

Law just shrugged, his eyes flicking to you briefly before he downed the rest of his drink. “She made it a decent game,” he said with a casual smirk, though the look he gave you was anything but casual.

“Another round?” Shachi asked, grinning as he set down his cup, already eager for more.

You shook your head with a soft laugh, feeling the alcohol making your head spin just a little. Even Law seemed to be feeling it, though his cool demeanor didn’t falter. He looked at you, the corner of his mouth lifting in a slight, teasing smile. “Maybe next time.”

As the night continued, Shachi separated from you two, wanting to go on a dance battle with Penguin. You watched him stumble away with an amused grin, and leaned against the beer pong table. "He's pretty fun."

Law leaned beside you, arms crossed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, he’s chaotic, but he’s great." It was something Law probably wouldn’t admit when sober. He valued his friends more than anything, but he wasn’t the type to be openly affectionate.

“How did you guys meet?” you asked, seizing the moment. Law seemed more relaxed than usual, probably thanks to the alcohol and the lively party atmosphere. His eyes remained fixed on his friends, who were currently tearing up the dance floor, before he turned back to you.

“We’re childhood friends,” he replied, rather casually.

Your eyes widened slightly, a warm feeling spreading through you. There was something undeniably sweet about hearing that. Law, already sensing where this was heading, scrunched up his face and quickly looked away.

“Don’t say it—” he began, but it was too late.

“Aw, that’s adorable.”

“God, here we go,” Law groaned, rubbing his eyes in mock exasperation. But despite his feigned annoyance, a grin tugged at his lips.

"Sorry, I had to," you said with a grin. "Hey, how about we play a question game? Taking turns?"

The suggestion piqued Law's interest. It was a good idea, and honestly, he was relieved that you came up with activities instead of him. He wasn't the type to take the lead with things like this.

"Like 'Never Have I Ever'?" Law asked, thinking of the drinking game. You hesitated for a moment before nodding, even though you knew it would probably loosen you up more than you intended.

After returning to the bar and ordering some diluted shots from Ikkaku—not wanting to black out too soon—you both sat back down at the table. Law took the first turn, thoughtfully considering his question. He didn’t want to embarrass you; it was just a fun opportunity to get to know you better.

"Never have I ever… cheated on an exam," he said with a smirk.

As you lifted your glass to your lips, Law shot you a mock judgmental look, causing you to laugh.

"What? The professor left the damn room for twenty minutes."

"You don't have to justify it," he chuckled. "I didn't say anything." He watched you down your drink, still amused.

"Alright, my turn," you said, thinking for a moment. "Never have I ever… slept with my ex."

Law lifted his glass, and this time, you gave him a playful judgmental look. He shrugged before he downed his shot.

"What? I'm not proud of it," he admitted with a wry smile.

"Why did you do it, then?" you teased, leaning in closer with a grin.

Law scrunched his eyebrows and sighed, rubbing his face as if the memory itself drained him. "No clue. It was a bad decision, and I’m definitely not making that mistake again. Not with her."

His tone made you even more curious, and you mentally noted that his relationship with his ex hadn’t been the best. You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened between them—and what kind of girl Law had dated in the first place. He was so guarded when sober, often keeping his walls up. Yet here he was, relaxed and open, at least for the moment. It made you wonder who had managed to break through those walls and actually get into a relationship with him.

"Okay, my turn again… never have I ever… stalked someone online before a date." Law asked, and leaned back in his seat.

You acted without thinking, your hand already lifting the glass. But as realization hit, you froze mid-motion and looked at Law with wide eyes. He raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer, clearly intrigued by your reaction.

You remembered how you’d stalked Law’s Instagram before your first study session together at the café, and the embarrassment started creeping in. But it was too late now—you downed the drink and set the glass back on the table.

"Why did you hesitate?" Law asked, narrowing his eyes at you suspiciously.

"What? I don’t know what you mean," you replied, laughing nervously.

"Cut the crap, tell me," he said with a grin, clearly enjoying this.

The alcohol made your tongue loose, and you couldn’t help but admit the truth. "Fine... I may have, possibly, looked you up online before we met for the first time. Maybe. Just... a little."

Law leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He wasn’t sure how he felt about this. Being a private person, he let the silence stretch between you two, deliberately creating a sense of pressure. It felt like an interrogation.

You shifted uncomfortably. "I just... Look, you were a random delivery guy. I didn’t trust that you were actually a med student. You even know where I live, and remember how you picked up my uni ID?"

Law listened, nodding slowly, his expression unreadable.

"I kind of panicked," you continued, running a hand through your hair. "I thought maybe you were just pretending to be in med school to... I don’t know, lure me in. Since you knew I was studying medicine." You sighed, feeling a bit ridiculous now. "Sorry, I was just anxious."

You braced yourself, half expecting Law to lecture you—or, worst-case scenario, leave the table and leave you sitting there alone at the party. But what you didn’t expect was for him to give you an amused smile, followed by a low chuckle.

"Smart girl," he said, surprising you. "Makes sense. Anyway, your turn."

"Wait, you don’t mind?" you asked, blinking in confusion.

Law shrugged casually. "Probably would have done the same if i was a chick living alone and inviting a random stranger to meet up."

"Wow you make me look like a loser." You laughed an rolled your eyes, to which Law shook his head with a grin. "Just laying out the facts, now go on, your turn."

You continued your game with Law, enjoying the lighthearted fun, until eventually, nature called. All that liquid had to leave your system, and you asked Law where the bathroom was. He motioned for you to follow him, leading you to a small unisex bathroom. He waited outside while you quickly headed in.

As you finished up, you suddenly became aware of how dizzy you felt from the alcohol. You were still able to walk and talk without slurring, but your head was spinning badly. Gripping the sink, you took a moment to steady yourself, trying to calm the whirlwind in your mind. The dim bass from the party music in the background only seemed to make the dizziness worse.

Meanwhile, outside the bathroom, Law leaned against the wall, checking his phone. You’d been inside for a while, and he was starting to get concerned. He debated whether to check on you, but worry quickly got the better of him. Knocking gently on the door, he called out, “Y/N, hey, you okay in there?”

He listened closely but didn’t hear a response. Anxiety bubbled up inside him, and he knocked again, louder this time. “Y/N?”

Finally, the doorknob turned, and you opened the door, holding your head. "My head is spinning. Give me a sec," you mumbled, stumbling slightly as you leaned back against the wall for support, slowly sliding down against it.

Law was quick to react. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him for privacy, and crouched down next to you. "You need some water?" he asked, his voice calm but filled with concern.

You shook your head slightly, the dizziness still overpowering your senses. Maybe the drinking game after beer pong hadn’t been the brightest idea.

He watched you for a moment, taking in the way you sat there, trying to compose yourself. Silence fell between you two, but this time it was comfortable. You leaned your head back against the wall, Law sitting next to you, mimicking the gesture.

Your gaze drifted back to him, and as if by fate, your eyes met. The dim lighting softened everything, but his grey eyes still seemed to cut through the shadows, intense and focused. He really was something, you thought, as your gaze unconsciously dropped to his lips.

Without realizing it, you began to inch closer, noticing how Law didn’t pull back. In fact, he seemed to lean in as well, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. Your heart raced, the moment stretching longer, making it almost unbearable.

Law swallowed, hesitant for a split second before his hand lifted, gently cupping your chin. His touch was careful, as if he was afraid of breaking you.

The space between the two of you disappeared, you could feel his breath on your skin as he tilted his head slightly, bringing your lips closer to his. Unsure of what to do, but not wanting to stop, you let the moment happen.

The second your lips touched, your eyes fluttered shut.

At first, the kiss was light, almost tentative—neither of you rushing it. But then, you moved your lips softly against his, and Law followed, matching your pace. The hesitation faded, and the connection deepened as you both let yourselves get lost in the moment.

Laws hand traveled from you chin to the back of your head, suddenly grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you in closer. You grabbed his T-shirt instinctively and let the kiss get more heated. Your breath was going heavy, desperate for air, yet neither of your two wanted to break the kiss.

Without pulling apart, you managed to somewhat clumsily get on your feet. Law walked you back against the sink, his lips still attached to yours, as he grabbed your thighs and effortlessly lifted you up. Sitting at the sink was pretty uncomfortable, but your mind was busy with other things. Your hands traveled down from his chest, to his belt, blindly trying to loosen it impatiently.

And Law seemed to be on the same page, he let his inked hands disappear under your top, fumbling with the clip your bra. The air was thick with tension as you two made out and tried to rip each others clothes off.

Laws zipper was already open and his belt hung lose on his jeans, while he was kissing your neck sloppily and pushed your top upwards, trying to get more of your sweet flesh.

While you two were in the heat of the moment, you completely forgot that you occupied the only existing bathroom at the party. The impatient knock of someone at the door reminded you what you were doing.

"Hey, I gotta piss, hurry up!"

Suddenly both of you froze, feeling like being caught in the act.

Law sighed in frustrating and let his head hang low, while you pinched the bridge of your nose. Great, getting cock blocked by a random stranger.

"In a fucking minute!" Law shouted back, and slowly let go of you, letting you hop of the sink. Both of you adjusted your clothes quickly and gave each other a disappointed look. It was great while it lasted.

Law walked ahead, swinging the door open with a bit more force than necessary, revealing the unfortunate person who had been banging on the door. The guy stood there, confused, clearly piecing together what had been happening inside. Law gave him a cold glare, making it obvious that he was pissed off and didn't really care the guy probably knew that you two were making out in the bathroom. You, on the other hand, followed Law out, feeling too embarrassed to meet the guy’s eyes.

As you walked away, still flustered, you spoke up quietly, "Hey, I’m still feeling a bit dizzy... I think I might call it a night." You rubbed your arm shyly, not wanting to seem like you were bailing, but the dizziness was still lingering mixed with exhaustion.

Law nodded in understanding, brushing a hand through his hair as he sighed. "Yeah, let’s leave," he agreed, his tone softer now. He placed a hand on your back gently, guiding you away from the noise of the party, and the two of you headed for the exit, leaving the chaotic atmosphere behind.

tag list: @mars-mizuko @tadomikiku (Comment to be added 🖤)

[prince-jjae]

Ceilings.

pairing; hueningkai/reader, taehyun/reader

tags; angst, mild fluff, mild smut [mdni!!!], poetic smut lol, barista!reader, barista!taehyun, jealousy, sorta maladaptive daydreaming, unhealthy coping mechanisms. lmk if i missed anything???

warnings!!!! vomiting, self-hatred, self-deprecating remarks and thoughts.

this is my first txt fanfic, and my first tumblr fic as well!! feedback is encouraged and appreciated. happy reading! title and general idea for the fic is based on the song ceilings by lizzie mcalpine.

Hyuka ending. Tyun ending. Masterlist.

summary;

"but its not real, and you dont exist. and i cant recall the last time i was kissed."

Life was easy, you were happy.. until you werent. come to think of it, had you ever truly been? now you cant even manage to get through your day without daydreaming of him. the perfect man. the one who would brighten your day, love you, save you. everything about him was perfect.

except for the fact he didnt exist.

You were cuddled up to him, thoughts swimming and keeping you perfectly dizzy as he played with your fingers. He was talking about something, rambling on about his day and what he was going to get up to in the next few weeks, but all you could focus on was the rumbling timbre of his voice, soothing your nerves like a balm. His breathing, his heartbeat, his scent, everything that made him so.. Him.

The rain battered softly against the window, but you didn’t mind. You sighed, content, head resting against his chest as you watched a race between two raindrops. You always loved dreary weather like this, as it gave you the perfect excuse to cuddle close to him and absorb his warmth. He was still mumbling into your hair, pressing kisses to the crown of your head every once in a while as if silently reminding you how much he adored you. You craved this more than air. He was sweeter than you could ever imagine, ever deserve. Nothing could take the fluttery feeling from your chest as your heart swooped and stuttered. You lifted your head to look up at him, stars in your ey-

The ringing of your phone snapped you out of your daydream. Your vision cleared as the sound jarred you back into reality, finally settling on the pillow you were cuddled against. You sighed, running your fingers through your hair in a way that tugged painfully at the knots there. You hissed but sat up, picking up your phone and holding it to your ear with a bored look on your face.

“What do you want?”

You busied yourself behind the counter of your job, moving through the motions of making coffee after coffee with practiced ease. This job was good for you, your friends decided. It allowed you to fall into an efficient routine, gave you something to stay busy with. Always moving, always working. You washed counters, mopped floors, stocked the fridges for your coworkers– anything to keep yourself busy and push the daydreams from your head.

It had been months of this. Day in, day out, dreaming of some handsome prince that with otherworldly beauty that would come save you from your mundane life. Maybe he would breathe life back into you, provide you with the spark you lost over the years.

..or did you even have it to begin with?

It started innocently enough, imagining what would like in a partner so you could finally begin opening yourself up to the idea. Being with another person had always been a terrifying idea. Letting someone so close? Allowing them to see you in all your drab, boring glory? You had counted yourself out, but your closest friend and coworker had slowly worn you down.

“Just make a list,” he had said, shrugging as if it was that easy. As if this wasnt world-crushing. “youve gotta start somewhere, right?”

And so you did. You listed every ideal thing your perfect partner could have or be. ..And then you started imagining what this perfect man would look like.. what he would sound like.. feel like-

Even now, when you were supposed to be hard at work as always, you found yourself getting distracted again, vision blurring around the edges as you made the 15th iced americano of the day.

What kind of coffee would he like? Would he like sweet things like you did? Would he like bitterness instead? It would make a nice contrast, you supposed.. you always had a sweet tooth when it came to drinks. What would his order b–

You were startled out of your thoughts as your name was sharply called. You jumped at the sound, looking down at your hands. Shit, the coffee you were making was ruined. You sighed, tossing the bitter liquid down the drain beside you before you began making a new one, completing it quickly and placing it on the counter for the customer to take.

You looked over your shoulder, frowning as you made eye-contact with your aforementioned coworker, who was watching you with sharp, judging eyes. Taehyun always knew when you fell into your fantasies, and it was beginning to get on his nerves. He grabbed your arm, tugging you back to the break room to fix you with a stern look, hands on his hips. You shrunk under his gaze.

“You're dreaming about him again, aren't you?” His words were cold as ice and straight to the point, something that you had once appreciated about him. But times like this, his straight-forwardness left much to be desired. You weren’t exactly soft either, a fellow tsundere, like your other coworkers used to call you. Taehyun always could see through you, though. Through the tough and cold exterior into the pool of softness that festered underneath.

You still flinched at his words, looking away as you adjusted your glasses on the bridge of your nose. They were dirty and smudged again, something Taehyun took notice of with a sigh. He plucked them from your face without a word and began cleaning them, glancing up at you as he did so to prompt your answer.

“It’s not like that.” You argued, slightly indignant. You couldn’t bear the thought of Taehyun seeing through you like glass. You couldn't bear the thought of anyone seeing through you.

Taehyun sighed, because he knew. He always knew, and it pissed you off to no end. “If it's ‘not like that’ then what the hell is it, huh?” He stepped closer, face steeled and calm as he placed the glasses back onto your face where they belonged.

And with that, you froze. Your pulse fluttered under your skin, and dread creeped up your throat. He couldn’t know. No one could know. You couldn't possibly tell him that not only had you indeed been fantasizing about your dream man, but you were beginning to have.. more involved daydreams. No, that was something he could never find out.

Taehyun watched the way you stiffened, eye twitching in irritation as he pushed past you to go back to work. All you could hear other than the shrill ringing in your ears were Taehyun's parting words;

“Just get back to work.”

The feeling of smooth silk and warm skin was the only thing you could think of. Plush lips and equally plush words, sweet nothings being whispered into your ear. You keened, brows furrowing as you arched into the feeling of fingertips brushing over your torso, making their intentions known as they slid lower, lower, lower still.

It drew a gasp from your lips, the fever rising under your clammy skin was slowly turning your mind to mush. He was so careful, so attentive to every little minute detail. He was perfect. Every detail about him from the fluffiness of his messy hair to the way his face would scrunch when he laughed, the sound ringing in your head like bells and just as clear. Even now, with his mouth pressing slow, saliva-slicked kisses to your skin, making you writhe under his touch, he was still perfect. He took your breath away with every movement. You found yourself becoming so lost in him that you couldn't find the line between you two– where one soul ended and the other began. Falling into pleasure with him was just as easy as breathing. Even the simple act of being near him set your soul alight, even with mundane tasks like laughing over a shitty movie, cooking easy meals together, dancing in the kitchen to your shared harmonies.

“Please–” Your voice was shaky and pleading, foreign to your own ears as your fingers clutched desperately at his arms. Your eyes watered, pretty tears clumping your lashes together in a way that made him coo down at you. You had the distinct feeling that you would surely explode if he wasn't the one holding you together with such an iron grip. The thought made a thrill pleasantly buzz under your heated skin, and you could feel his grin against your neck. What you were begging for, you hadn't a clue. All you knew was him. All you wanted was him. And gods above, you felt greedy. You needed more, more, more. Craved it, even.

You whined as he pulled away from your neck, looking down at you with the kindest eyes you'd ever have the pleasure of seeing. His mouth moved, words pillowy and full of promise, but you couldn't hear him. You never really could.

When you came down from your high with a long whine of his name, reality hit you like a bucket of ice water.

Huening Kai.

His name. You said his name. It rolled off your tongue like you were made to say it. Like the syllables were always meant to fall from your lips like a desperate prayer. A prayer to a god that didn't exist.

Saying his name suddenly made it feel real. Too real. Your stomach churned, making you lurch out of bed and scramble for the bathroom so you could empty your stomach into the porcelain. You hoped that with every obscene gag and whimper, that your dreams would be expelled, too. That you'd be free of this beautiful hell. Maybe then you could be normal.. perhaps even be loved for real.

It was later in the workday when you found yourself swaying on your feet. You hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, the gravity of your daydreams finally settling on you like a lead weight around your neck. You could only hope it would take you under the angry waves of your turbulent mental state.

It was sick, right? You were sick for this. Feeling so desperate and lonely that you would make up a whole boyfriend. A perfect, loving boyfriend. But none of it was real. He didn't exist, only in your twisted little brain. Had you really been so pathetically alone that you had to dream about being loved? Being wanted?

Taehyun caught your eye with a sideways glance, and you knew instantly that he knew. How was he so perceptive? How did he always know? Your shoulders sagged as you could assume how this would end. Sure enough, a few hours later when your lunch break rolled around, you found yourself being pulled along by Taehyun once again.

“What happened this time? These dreams are making you worse.” Taehyun frowned, eyebrows pinching together almost imperceptibly. You could see it. Just as he could see you, you could see him in turn. His concern was palpable, with the way his touch lingered on your shoulder before you shrugged it off. If it bothered Taehyun that you did this, he didn't show it.

“Look,” He leveled with you, sharp eyes meeting your own. You desperately wanted to run, something screamed in the back of your mind that this was too close. That everything was too close to you.. to the ugly truth you tried to shove down with all your might.

You were in love with a dream. Devastatingly, sickeningly, irrefutably in love.

“Something is seriously going on with you. Have you called any of those therapists I've sent? You've been looking like a shell of yourself for months now, but today you look like death fucking warmed.” His words always had a way of slicing right through you. ‘No use in sheltering you from the truth,’ as Taehyun would say. You pressed your lips into a thin line, tearing your gaze away from his.

“Gee, thanks. You really know how to make a person feel pretty, don't you?” You were deflecting. You knew it, Taehyun knew it. He groaned, grabbing your chin and tilting it so he could look into your eyes again. He wouldn't let you hide, you knew that. Still, you recoiled back out of his grip like it scalded you, but remained meeting his eyes as he wanted.

“I mean it. Tell me what's going on, now. You can't keep fantasizing about some made-up life with a made-up man-” But you cut him off hastily, so desperate to defend what little pride you had left that you couldn't even process what you were saying.

“Kai is just a dream, youre right. but I’m trying to get be-” You slapped a hand over your mouth, but the damage was done. The words had already been spoken.

Taehyun blanched, eyes widening a fraction in shock. His hands clenched into fists where they lay at his sides.

“...You named him?” Taehyun speaks carefully, words measured and precise, but you didn't miss the edge that skirted around the syllables. He was seething, and you knew it. You gnawed on your lip until metal filled your mouth, looking pointedly away from him. The floor was suddenly much more interesting than Taehyun's eerily silent rage.

Something dangerous swirled in his eyes, and the heat that rose to your face was dizzying. You felt so ashamed, rage rising in you over the sheer embarrassment you just threw yourself into.

“Just forget it, okay? I didn't mean it, it’s nothing-” But Taehyun was having none of it. His shocked expression was now schooled into something darker. Something angrier.

“Forget it? You expect me to forget that you've been spending every conscious and unconscious moment dreaming about someone who doesn't exist? It's nothing!?” He was seeing red. You thought, distantly, that this was the most you had gotten out of him before. You were stunned into your spot, cemented to the floor under Taehyun's anger.

“I'm sorry, I-” Again, you were being cut off by Taehyun retreating, irritation rolling off of him in waves as he pushed past you again, shoulder bumping harshly against your own.

“Get it together. Maybe someday you'll wake up and see what you've been missing out on, but I can't promise I'll still fuckin’ be here when you do.”

It was a few months later, and you were barely any better than you were in the wake of your argument with Taehyun. If you could even call it that. Your connection had almost entirely been severed, only feeling the weight of his stare whenever he thought you weren't paying attention. It made you shiver.

You tried so hard to listen to his warnings, that this would only make you more sick. You needed to wake up from your delusions and face reality. You were lonely, yes, but you could fix that if you took control of your own mind again. If you controlled your own life again. Taehyun was right, he was always right. This wasn't healthy in the slightest.

Now you were back to working regularly without fucking up. You were efficient as they were before this hell began, albeit a bit more hollow than normal. Your mind still tortured you, but you were strong enough to begin to push it away. These fantasies, these delusions were only a poison. You had to stop drinking it by the mouthful if you ever expected to be happy.

The bell above the front door of the cafe rang, signaling you had more work to do. You pulled yourself together, hearing the customer approach the counter. You didn't look up, opening up the order screen on the register before you.

“Hello, what can I get for you today?” You asked, a practiced and saccharine sweetness staining your voice.

“Ah.. could I just get a few egg tarts?” You blinked. That voice.. it itched something in the back of your mind, but you pushed it away. He was probably a regular customer. Nothing to get excited about.

“Sure thing,” You selected the requested items, head moving up to look at the customer with a pleasant customer-service brand smile on your lips. “What's the name for the order?” You hadn't quite looked at his face yet, just a quick glance to not seem rude. You weren't the best with eye-contact, anyway.

“Oh- Kai. Huening Kai.”

The pen fell from your hand, eyes snapping up to finally, finally meet the eyes of this stranger and any words you could have had in your mind died on your tongue. It was him. It was really him. Holy fuck.

“Everything okay?” He was so sweet. So perfect. He was everything you dreamed and then some. You swallowed thickly, nodding like a fucking idiot as you punched in his total in the machine.

“Yeah- yeah, your total is $10.25” You managed to squeak out, voice stunted and shaken. You felt like a flame in a hurricane, on the blink of blinking out of existence. You moved in a daze, grabbing his items and handing them to him after he paid. Your hands were shaking, and you swore your knees almost gave out when his fingers ghosted over your own, flashing you a warm smile that nearly ended you then and there.

You were blissfully unaware of the weight of Taehyun's gaze this time, and the anger behind it.

He knew. He always knew.

[kissorkill16]

Reconciliation: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Aaron ends up staying somewhere he'd least expect.

(P.S., for @spring-vibes-only )

Aaron sprinted out of his house, running on feet he could barely even keep upright. They were starting to turn into jelly.

Mya accidentally fell off the roof, and he couldn't bear to face his father after what he'd just done. So he just ran away.

He thought maybe he'd find a human sized cardboard box he could sleep in for the night, and tomorrow he could find something to eat.

He just kept walking around in circles for what felt like hours, then he bumped into someone.

"Sorry!", he said, backing away. When he looked up to see the man who he'd bumped into, he nearly fainted.

The old Channel 4 station manager, Gordon Cleave.

He was wearing an orange vest and holding a grabbing stick and a garbage bag.

Aaron immediately backed away further and grabbed a brick from off the sidewalk. "You!", he practically shouted, "You're supposed to be in jail!"

Gordon just shrugged, completely unbothered by this kid's little act of bravery. "Yeah, I was. But the judge said he'd shorten my sentence if I took part in community service. Anything to get out of that forsaken shit hole."

A moment of silence.

"What're you doing out here?"

Aaron knew he shouldn't be telling someone who's tried to ruin his family's life in the past, but he felt like he needed to get something off his chest. "I've run away from home.", he said. "My dad's kind of gone a little off the deep end, so..."

"Pfft! A little?", scoffed Gordon. "What about your little sister?"

At the mention of Mya, Aaron felt his eyes fill with tears. He looked at the ground so Gordon couldn't see.

Gordon didn't know why, but something inside him made him bend down and put a hand on Aaron's shoulder, gently rubbing his fingers on it. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Finally, he said what Aaron least expected.

"Look, I may hate you and your dad's guts, but what if...hypothetically I offered you a place to stay. When I get off, I was thinking about letting you stay back at my place.", he said.

Aaron wasn't so sure about it, but what other choice did he have? He may not have liked the man so much, but staying inside an actual living area was way better than a cardboard box.

Reluctantly, he nodded.

"Also, if it's a mess when we get home, please excuse it. Dale has trouble cleaning up after himself."

Aaron's eyes widened.

"Dale? As in Detective Dale? As in Officer Tapps?", asked Aaron.

"Yeah. We kinda got together in prison.", replied Gordon. "Judge me, I dare you. Just go sit somewhere and I'll let you know when I get off."

Aaron nodded and sat down next to a tree.

All the while, Gordon was still questioning his decision. He had absolutely no idea how to take care of a child, and he hated kids for as long as he could remember. Plus, he'd tried to hurt this kid more than once, and he wasn't so sure that Dale would be so on board with it.

But maybe it'd all be worth it. Maybe Aaron wouldn't cause too much trouble. After all, the kid seemed old enough to take care of himself for most of the time while him and Dale could work. So maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

They'd have to set some ground rules, but he was sure things were going to be fine.

Maybe if Aaron was a good child, he might consider adopting him.

(I was going to add something more. Like maybe a hint of smut, but I felt like that wouldn't be extremely necessary, so you just got this. How do you like it?)

[smollbean42905]

hi, could you write a fluff fic about carl x deaf!reader ? i think it would be cute if she could teach him sign and he could learn through books enough to tell her his feelings. maybe she was at alexandria when he got there and kinda kept to herself because no one could communicate with her but he was determined to.

i love carl and twd but i rarely see any deaf/hoh fics as a deaf person. thank you and have a good day ❤️

Here ya go lovey! I hope you like it!

I tried to make sure that the information on cochlear implants(since they're mentioned) is correct, I hope I got it right..

Sign

Isolation and Silence were your friends. Hiding was a friend, a cowardly friend, but one non the less. You were born deaf, when you were five your loving parents got you a cochlear implant. You could hear for the first time ever, at the young age of 5. The cochlear implant never left your head unless it was charging, using a USB cord.

But all of the safety the implant brought you was put on hold as the world ended. There was no way for you to charge your implant, so fear set in. Your parents changed as well once the world ended, your father became more strict and less loving. Your mother became more quiet and reserved. You felt more alone then ever once your implant died.

Anger went through your veins as you heard the beeping that meant that the implant has died. The last thing you heard was that cursed beeping. Sadness creeped in after that once the world went silent. You were so used to sound after 6 years of it, being only 11 at the time of the apocalypse. The next year your mom took the easy way out, your father became angry. He never tried to communicate with you, even though you both knew sign language. You were a bit rusty but was remembering it slowly. Two years later, your father allowed himself to be eaten by walkers. At the age of 14, you were alone, alone in a world were sound was critical to survive. A world where you had to look over your shoulder and starve and stay awake for days on end to make sure you were safe.

That was until Aaron found you one day, you were asleep in the back of your family car and allowed yourself to sleep. Aaron gently spoke to you trying to wake you up, but you didn't stir. He reached out with some hesitation and placed his hand on your shoulder, at the mere touch of his hand you sprang up with horror on your face. You tried to speak, to show you were a normal surviver, but the words came out in slurs, you couldn't hear yourself speak. The welcoming vibrations in your ears as you spoke was gone, there was nothing.

Aaron looked shocked and was trying to talk to you, you read his thin lips and he seemed to say, are you drunk?. You grew confused by the question and started to sign on instinct, his eyes widened. He didn't know sign language, he's never interacted with someone who was deaf before in his life. He got a bit closer to you so you can read his lips,

Are you alone?

You nod your head after a moment, he seems to frown and speaks to you again

Would you like to go somewhere safe?

You nod again, anywhere but the outside was safe. Aaron smiles slightly at your nod and he holds his hand out to you, you slowly take it with some hesitation and he gently tugs you out of the car. He looks around as you gather your things. A blanket you've had since you were a baby, and some books you've held onto. Books about ASL, or American Sign Language, everything fit in your bag. You were out of food or water so you didn't have much, Aaron leads you away from your home and you both walks in silence. One more willing than the other, and after a days walk you get to Alexandria.

You look up to see a large guarded area with people stationed on both sides of the large gate, each holding a good sized gun and staring down at her. Aaron must of said something making the gate open. He ushers her in and leads her to Denise, the leader of the close knit group, and she looks at you and begins to speak. Aaron seems to of cut her off, and tells her of your condition. Denise looks a bit saddened by the news, no one here knows sign language so communication will be very difficult.

"We'll station her up in an empty house for now"

"Why? She can stay with me for now"

"No one knows sign language Aaron, talking with her will be difficult."

"She reads lips, that's how I got her here"

"She is to go to an empty house for now." Denise had the final word, as usual, and Aaron is forced to comply. He brings you to an empty house and goes in front of you so you can read his lips

This is your home for now, I have to go back out

You nod as he tells her everything, finding it of no use to sign to him. He walks away after a moment leaving you alone. You let out a sign as you're isolated once again.

As the days go by, your actions don't change, Aaron never comes back to see you as he's to busy with his job so you stay alone. You go outside and sit by the lake, you're favorite area, with your feet in the water. You close your eyes as you can feel the vibrations of other walking nearby and the gently moving of the water that's around your feet. This is your daily routine, some kids try to come up to you and speak but you never reply, obviously, so they give up after a moment and walks off to never try again. Ron tried it, Enid tried, as well as every single teen in the small sanctuary. They all try to be friends with you but since you don't reply and seem to ignore them, they all think you're rude.

That was until Carl Grimes and his group enter the area. Aaron brings them back and he sees you by the lake, so he addresses the group.

"That kid over there" he points to you

"I haven't got their name but they're deaf, not rude." He knows of the kids finding you rude or entitled so he makes sure everyone knows of your condition. Carl's gaze lingers on you as your open your eyes and looks at the water. You can feel someone's gaze on you and look around seeing Carl looking at you. His face is blank but his eyes are narrowed slightly, as if he's trying to figure you out. His eyes go to their normal size as you make eye contact. Rick makes Carl follow the group, leaving you to your own devises once more.

As the days went on and Carl got to knows some of the teens, each said the same thing about you, that you're rude and entitled and speak to no one. Carl tries to tell them that you're deaf, but non believe him. So he decides, for some reason, to go up to you. You're at your usual place, with your eyes closed and bare feet in the water. You looked so peaceful that Carl feels a bit bad when he sits next to you and gently pokes your arm making you jump. His face stays blank as you look at him quickly, no one has touched her or gotten her attention in any way besides speaking so this was new. He starts to speak slowly, so you can read his lips

Hi, I'm Carl

You have a bit and sign your name, the letters being almost drawn in the air seem to amaze him slightly. He's never seen someone sign before. The use of your hands catch his attention as he watches the language.

Can you teach me?

He asks you, you nod after a moment of shock and adjust yourself to face him more. You sign a simple hello, the simple wave of your hand, he copies. You mouth the word "hello" he copies you and does the sign again. You begin to sign the alphabet, your hands amazing him as you sign the 26 letters effortlessly. He copies you slowly as you do it again, you mouth the letter that corresponds with the hand movement. You sign his name slowly,

C

A

R

L

He watches you and copies you again.

You both didn't realize that you gained some attention, Rick and Michonne watch you two.

"He's never done this.." Rick whispers softly. He had to deal with a teen angsty Carl for the last few years so seeing him willingly socialize with someone was shocking.

You sign your name slowly and he whispers the letters to himself softly then repeats your name to himself once he understands it. He says it again a bit louder making you smile, seeing him say your name was nice. No one has said your name in about a year, so it was refreshing to see. You continue teaching him sign language, finally gaining a friend after so long.

[fanficshiddles]

Eternally Mine, Chapter 41

Loki and Chris were stood at the side of the grass, arms folded over their chests while they watched Toshi try to teach Claire and Louise some basic self-defence techniques.

It was going… not very well. They were both rather clumsy and kept tripping over their own feet.

‘I didn’t realise Louise was this clumsy.’ Chris chuckled.

‘I know Claire has her moments, but this is ridiculous.’ Loki responded.

Toshi ran a hand down her face. ‘Maybe this isn’t going to be as easy as I thought.’ She muttered to Jessica, who was beside her.

‘Ok. Let’s try a different tactic, you’re both rather clumsy and together it seems worse.’ Toshi announced to them. She had started with trying to get them to learn some moves on one another, but realised that maybe wasn’t the right way.

‘Loki. Chris. Get your asses over here.’ Toshi called to the guys.

‘Uh oh.’ Chris muttered as he and Loki wandered over.

‘Go behind your girl and let’s try something. Ok, Louise, Claire, the guys are going to come up behind you and grab you. Though guys, loosely, not vampire strength, let’s start easy. I want you two to do what I showed you to get out of their grip. Imagine they’re a stranger in the street that’s come up behind you.’

Louise and Claire nodded in agreement, eager to get this right.

As soon as the guys stepped in behind them, Loki loosely grabbed hold of Claire and she felt him press his body against her back.

Chris did the same with Louise, though wrapped one arm around the front of her neck, albeit loosely too.

Instead of trying to get free, they both just sort of melted.

‘You’re not supposed to be getting aroused at this.’ Chris laughed as he caught a whiff of Louise.

‘You’re just as bad, pet!’ Loki growled at Claire, who then tried squirming out of his grasp, forgetting everything Toshi had taught her so far.

Louise just fell into a fit of the giggles at the situation, which then wasn’t helped by Chris as he started tickling her, making it worse.

‘Oh my god.’ Toshi face palmed. ‘Right, David! Matt! Get over here.’ Toshi yelled at the guys.

David and Matt came over and took place of Loki and Chris. Toshi glared at Chris, who shrugged at her. ‘What? It’s not my fault she’s excited by my mere presence.’ He gloated with a smirk.

Toshi shook her head in dismay. ‘You knew exactly what you were doing. Both of you!’ She scolded and glared at Loki too.

The rest of them ended up coming over to watch, too. Severus was even amused by the scene.

After getting Louise and Claire to re-focus, they actually managed to get somewhere now they weren’t practicing with one another, or with their partners. They were able to master the technique of getting away from someone that was attempting to grab them from behind.

‘Now, obviously this technique will be more difficult against vampires using their full strength, but these lessons are more to protect you both from human hunters… just in case. They might work on drunk vampires, or weaker ones. Though if we can get your strength and stamina built up then you’ll have more of a chance even with stronger vampires.’

‘So, there’s still a chance I might be able to kick Loki’s ass eventually in a fight?’ Claire asked with a grin as she and Louise sat on the grass to get their breath back.

‘Well, maybe eventually. You’d certainly have a possibility against Loki. Louise though, I’m sorry to say, against Chris you’ll never have a chance.’ Toshi said honestly.

Claire let out a cheer and fist bumped the air. Loki’s mouth fell open and he glared at Toshi. ‘Hey! I’m strong!’

Chris grinned and winked at Louise, who giggled and blushed. Chris then joined Louise on the grass and wrestled her playfully, making her laugh more.

‘I’m not saying you’re not. Just that if Claire really buffs up and practices hard, maybe one day…’ Toshi trailed off and shrugged.

‘I doubt it. I’ve not had any human defeat me.’ Loki huffed.

‘Have you actually fought any humans apart from hunters?’ Toshi asked, folding her arms over her chest as she took slow steps towards him.

Severus raised an eyebrow at Toshi’s tone, he knew exactly what was about to happen next… he felt a little sorry for Loki. Just a little.

‘Of course not, no need to. I know there won’t be a human strong enough to take on the average vampire like myself or the others here.’ He gloated a bit.

When Toshi walked right up to him and squared up to him a bit, Chris had a feeling he knew what was about to go down too. So, he scooped Louise up and moved her out of the way, then he grabbed Claire’s arm and tugged her out of the way too. She looked a bit confused at first, but soon clicked on when Toshi began rolling up her sleeves.

‘Let’s test that theory.’ Toshi said confidently.

Loki raised an eyebrow. ‘What?’

‘Let’s test that theory.’ She repeated. ‘Come on. I’m a human, you should be able to beat me easily.’

Loki laughed and shook his head. ‘I’m not about to fight a friend.’

‘Scared you’ll lose? To not only a human, but a girl?’ Chris called with a smirk as he watched on with amusement.

‘Don’t wind him up.’ Claire whispered.

‘What, don’t want to see him get his ass kicked?’ Chris asked her.

‘Shut up.’ Loki hissed over at Chris.

‘Come on. Just a friendly fight?’ Toshi asked Loki as she began stalking around him.

Loki sighed and put his hands on his hips. ‘Fine. Just don’t go crying to Severus though when I prove my point.’

‘Geez, since when did Loki get so boastful? He’s been hanging around you too much.’ David chuckled as he stepped next to Chris.

‘He was often like that as a kid.’ Chris chuckled.

‘I agree with him though, he’s a strong vampire. There’s no way Toshi will be able to take him out.’ David muttered.

‘Hundred quid.’ Chris commented without hesitation.

David turned to face him, eyebrow up. ‘What?’

‘Let’s bet on it. Hundred quid says Toshi kicks his ass.’ Chris put his hand out towards David.

‘You’re on.’ He shook his hand.

Severus smirked from the side.

Louise just shook her head with a laugh. She wasn’t really sure who would win.

Loki had barely taken a stance when Toshi lunged, she was quick and agile as she jumped towards him and bent down to put a hand on the ground as she levered her body round, to use one of her legs to swipe at him, taking his feet right out from under him. He fell down to the ground with a loud thud and knocked the wind from him. Toshi jumped on his chest and held one of her knives to his throat. His eyes widened and he put his hands up.

‘Holy shit.’ He gasped.

‘Of course, if you were a vampire I was after, I’d slit your throat to keep you occupied for a good while and then I’d get my silver bullet ready to finish the job.’ Toshi said as she hopped up off him.

Loki blinked quickly, he didn’t even notice how or when she got her knife out. He couldn’t believe how quick she was for a human. And there was a decent amount of strength in her legs to swipe him down like that.

David was stunned. Chris just grinned and put his hand out towards David, motioning with his fingers for him to give him the money.

David grumbled under his breath as he took out his wallet and gave him fifty quid. ‘I’ll get the rest to you tomorrow.’ He huffed.

Chris chuckled and looked at Louise. ‘Next weekend, let’s go out for a meal. My treat.’ He winked at her, making her laugh as she hugged into the side of him.

‘You bet against me?’ Loki screeched at his brother when he hobbled over towards them.

‘Not necessarily against you… I bet on Toshi.’ Chris shrugged.

Loki scowled at Chris, then sulked off to get a drink. Claire rushed after him, hiding her amusement as she cooed over him to make him feel better. When Loki got to the picnic table and picked up a drink, he looked back over at the others and continued scowling.

‘It’s not all about strength all the time. We humans, especially being female, need to use our finesse as much as we can. Take them by surprise as soon as possible is our best bet.’ Toshi said to Louise. Then, without any warning, she did exactly the same to Chris, bending down and swinging her leg out to swipe his legs out from under him.

While he fell to the ground with a thud, just as loud as his brothers, he did, however manage to get up in a split second before she had the chance to even think about doing anything else.

Loki began howling with laughter upon seeing Chris being taken down like that.

Louise couldn’t help but laugh too at the look of surprise on Chris’ face.

‘Well, it seems even the strongest vampire can be taken down in surprise, even if just for a moment.’ Toshi said proudly.

‘What the hell was that for? I bet on you! Not against you.’ Chris huffed as he wiped his jumper and frowned at Toshi.

‘Just proving a point to Louise and Claire that we can be strong too, just in a slightly different way. If I was trying to take you out, I would then have to be extremely quick to get a knife to your throat. Though even I know that would be easier said than done.’

‘Cause Chris’ reflexes are faster than the others, right?’ Louise asked.

‘Damn right.’ Chris said as he rolled his shoulders and put his arm around Louise, giving Toshi one last scowl. Though Toshi swore she could see a slight hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

‘I wish I had bet on that happening.’ David sighed.

Toshi walked over to Severus, seeing him smirking.

‘Too far?’ She asked as she slipped under his arm.

‘Not at all. Just right.’ Severus chuckled lightly and leaned down to kiss her.

‘Damn, how Hannibal doesn’t realise he can trust you is beyond me. The fact you can knock Chris down like that without him going ape shit on you is more than enough proof of his trust in you.’ Matt said to Toshi.

He wasn’t wrong. If anyone outwith their group did that to Chris, he likely would’ve torn their throat out in response or tossed them off a cliff. Heck, more or less everyone else in the group wouldn’t ever dare to even attempt doing something like that with him.

‘He doesn’t like Chris, that’s why he doesn’t care for his judgement with Toshi.’ Loki said as he and Claire walked back over to them, Claire had a bag of crisps and Loki was stealing some from over her shoulder.

‘Yet he’s shit scared of him. You can tell by the look on his face.’ Spencer chimed in.

‘Which doesn’t really make sense as to why he keeps talking bad about Toshi on front of him.’ Jessica hummed.

‘He likely knows that Chris needs a more solid reason to fire him or actually hurt him. So, there’s only so far he will go to wind us up.’ Severus said.

‘Hannibal likely feels threatened by Toshi’s presence, too. The fact she’s a hunter, who are our enemy, he can’t face the fact that she’s trying to help us.’ Loki said with a mouthful of crisps.

‘Geez, bro. I know you didn’t grow up in a barn and have better manners than to eat with your mouth full.’ Chris commented to Loki.

Loki just flipped him the middle finger in response.

Claire and Louise looked at one another and shook their heads.

‘We definitely need to keep an eye on Hannibal, but I think the hunters targeting us are our main priority.’ Chris said to the group, and they all nodded in agreement.

[jadewing-realms]

disclaimer: written pre-release

i've had this sitting in my drafts for a bit since i started playing BG3, I kept seeing a particular kind of post regarding Astarion and it really started to frustrate me soooooo. here's a vaguely coherent rant nobody asked for pff

As I got into the game, following Astarion's romance subplot, doing research on the game and characters thus far, I encountered the schism between those who love Astarion and by extension, characters like him, and those that consider said characters as little more than toxic creatures, narcissists best dealt with swiftly and harshly. The latter tends, in the posts I've found at least, to view the former as poor unfortunate souls with the dreaded "i can fix him" mentality.

Now, I'm not here to say either is entirely wrong. I think to take a side here is to do the exploration a disservice and to forget the depth of nuance in art and media interpretation.

And that's just it. Because at the end of the day, interpretation is one of the key elements involved in this discourse. In the case of Astarion, especially with the game having been in early access for so long and no complete, guaranteed details of his past or arc made public yet, with so much up in the air as the full release drops, there are worlds of interpretations that can be made regarding our infamous vampire rogue.

Is one of those interpretations that he's both emotional and literal vampire who's every action is a trap for the protagonist in order to use them, and that he's irredeemable? Yes. Is another that he's simply trying to survive in a situation he's never been in after spending two centuries living like an animal? Also yes.

The error here, I think, is to treat one interpretation like it's more "right" than another. Which is what I've seen a lot of online threads do... Insisting one perspective is superior to the other. Which is bad faith even on a good day when either perspective is based in concrete, unchangeable fact. Even moreso in this case, until there's complete canon material to bank on, and even then that will have so much variety to it since most of it will depend on the actions of the player. It's a choice-based game. There is so much space for varied experiences, and none of them will be "right" or "wrong."

I feel like in modern media discussion, when considering whether a character is actively harmful or just flawed, it can be easy to forget that some of our most popular stories are ones in which someone is deemed beyond hope or redemption, a danger to all they encountered, only for their arc to raise them from their Pit of Dickishness and set them on pedestals as some of the most memorable, inspiring characters we know.

The timeless story of the Christmas Carol gives us an absolutely despicable old geezer who literally spells out the horror he'd inflict upon the poor if he could, simply for the sin of poverty. But in an effort to fixate only on how problematic he (very much intentionally) is, we might lose sight of how the whole point of the story is to watch him be forced to confront his ways, unpack all his crap, and become better for it in the end.

Characters like Prince Zuko, Edmund Pevensie, Greedling, Steve Harrington, Boromir, James Ford, friggin Darth Vader, we wouldn't have any of them if we only read them at surface level as toxic assholes and then left it at that. But through learning the nuances of these characters and watching them confront their actions and consequences and learn from them, they not only grow and change into better people, but we love them because they hold pieces of ourselves in them, despite their sharp edges. We can understand why they are the way they are, and maybe, if we're honest with ourselves, we can acknowledge that we might have done similarly awful things under their circumstances. It makes them relatable, admirable, and cautionary all at once. It makes them human.

None of that is to say that there are never characters built purely and solely to fear and loath, not at all. True scumbags can and do exist, both in fiction and reality. To try to enforce the idea of finding empathy for a true monster is often a tactic used in reality to gaslight people into excusing said monsters' behavior.

Which leads into the "i can fix him" argument. When applied to situations dealing with real dangerous and horrid people who can't or won't change? Absolutely Not Great (though that's not to say it can't be included in a story, there are valuable themes in that on its own). Condoning this dynamic as something good is what leads to abusive relationships and innocent people staying in unhealthy situations for far too long. I'm among those who can attest to that personally.

That said, when it comes to Astarion, no one can rightly say going through his romance arc or not is condoning anything. Because it once more comes down almost entirely to perspective and interpretation, because he's a video game character comprised of pixels and a well-written script and there are limitless ways he can be interpreted and interacted with.

Like, personally, yes, there are some dynamics I'd feel uncomfy pairing him with, even with the empathy I feel for his character. Platonic or romantic, doesn't matter. Does that mean I'm going to apply my interpretation and personal boundaries to the next person playing the Astarion romance? No. That would be assuming I've somehow discovered the "correct" way to interpret the game, which I have not and can never do because RPGs like Baldur's Gate 3 are such personalized experiences. People are 100% free to play a fictional game however the hell they so please, because stories are not inherently 1-to-1 reflections of reality.

Especially when it comes to the narcissism accusation, it sparks an extra layer of discomfort for me when it seems like characters who act selfishly or spin lies get called "narcissistic" when that's kinda severely over-generalizing what narcissism actually is??

Narcissism is inherently selfish, but not all selfishness is narcissism. Gaslighting is built on lies, but not all lies are gaslighting. This separation was literally bugging me so much, I talked with my therapist about it last week. And she agreed.

Some folks seem to forget is actual NPD isn't just about selfishness and manipulating. It's fragile ego and delusions of grandeur and the mind games, dysregulating highs and humiliating lows that they will weave in a web around you so that you, as a victim, can never get your mental and emotional footing. Usually for the purposes of then swooping in to offer themselves as your only source of stability. The whole "rely on me because your judgment is clearly faulty and you need to be protected from yourself" shtick.

You know. Kinda like Cazador.

The way I see Astarion, by contrast, is that he has an honesty to him that lacks such delusions. As much as he desperately tries to maintain this veneer of poise and sass and devil-may-care out of self-preservation, it's paper thin and crumples under the barest pressure. Like, the equivalent of a thematic sneeze and down he goes. Then you see him as he is. Which is just... frightened. Sad. Kinda pathetic, really. And absolutely, positively lost. All things he knows, but he legit believes he will be killed if he lets any of it show.

Comparing that to, say, Wyll, who's blissfully ignorant bluster reminds me painfully of self-aggrandizing family members that I love but can't interact with honestly because of the forest of self-delusion around them... well, it's not much of a contest.

If somebody interprets Astarion as a slimy, manipulating power-monger and gets rid of him the first chance they have, that's their story to tell and power to them for it. But the same must be said for the opposite. I don't appreciate the thought that there's a whole sect of the BG3 fandom that probably genuinely considers me "less than" or "unhealthy" or "problematic" in some way for being among those who like this character or others like him and their potential thematically and narratively. But if my interpretation is that he’s a frightened man who just wants to feel safe and free, that is also its own story and it's mine to tell if I wish. And both can be good or even powerful stories!

Is all of this based on my own personal nuances, biases, and priorities? Absolutely. And that's kinda the whole point... There's not a wrong answer with this, really. I experience these games and these characters through a lens that is mine and mine only, and I give meaning to the worlds I enter based on what makes the story feel most interesting and satisfying for me. And at the end of the day, what else is art for but to help us explore ourselves and learn a little bit more about what it means to be human. In all its glory and ugliness.

And that's a wholly personal journey nobody deserves to have micromanaged or belittled. I'm certainly not gonna go around looking down on anyone for having a different reading than mine. You do you, boo. But let me do me too.

[fisheito]

my princess nonsense is being encouraged watch ouyt imabout to be eneaabled

OK WHATF ATHAT'S SO CUTE I HAD TO MAKE IT i know realistically there's little to no chance that rei DOESN'T know how to work heels 🤣 BUT IMAGINE.....ING.... YAKUMO GENTLY GUIDING REI IN HEELS, WEEKS BEFORE THE BIG GALA AND HAVING NONE OF HIS NORMAL FEAR OF PHYSICAL TOUCH BC HIS [TEACHER MODE] IS OVERRIDING HIS INSECURITY