ikkyuume

[xuchiya]

"stuck in this fairytale" || choi san || mini-series || seventh part

| genre: prince! san. fluff. angst. adventure | mentions: cursing. | here's the first part

When you woke up, the first thing that caught your attention was the soft murmur of palace maids bustling around just outside your chambers. You sat up slowly, blinking away the remnants of sleep, your mind still hazy. The sun’s rays streamed through the embroidered curtains, casting golden hues across your room. Confusion settled in as you heard more shuffling and hushed voices. Why was there so much commotion this early in the morning?

Just then, the door creaked open, and Wooyoung entered, dressed impeccably in fine silk robes, his usual mischievous smile playing on his lips. He looked every bit the prince he was, but there was a hint of excitement dancing in his eyes today. "Good morning nerdy girl! Good that you're up," he hummed, his voice carrying a note of anticipation.

He crossed the room with graceful ease, heading straight for the large, ornate closet that housed your dresses. Your brows furrowed as you watched him start sifting through them with swift, decisive motions. 

"Jung Wooyoung, for the love of Jungkook's seven days a week kink, what is happening?” you asked, still disoriented from your abrupt awakening.

He paused briefly, glancing over his shoulder with a playful smirk. “One, he is dedicating his love for seven days not his kink and second…" he said casually before resuming his search. "Well, it’s the kingdom’s anniversary today. Big celebration, remember?”

Nodding slowly as you try to remember if Wooyoung or any of the Kim siblings mentions the anniversary. Wooyoung finally stopped his rummaging as he reached the back of the wardrobe, pulling out a dress that immediately caught your eye. He turned to face you, holding it up for you to see with a triumphant grin. The gown was a masterpiece, a striking piece of craftsmanship. The bodice was designed with intricate embroidery, fitted into a corset style with puffed short sleeves that added a regal flair. The skirt flowed in layers of soft blue fabric, light as air, and shimmered faintly in the morning light, reminiscent of a calm ocean at twilight.

“Come on!” Wooyoung urged, holding the dress out in front of you as if it were a prize. “It’s going to be a big day!”

You hesitated, taking in the sheer beauty of the gown, and your mind drifted for a moment. But Wooyoung was already a step ahead, sensing your apprehension. He walked over to you and, with a warm smile, placed the gown in your hands. “Don’t worry," he said softly. “It’s not really a big event that needs everyone to interact. There’s a huge celebration at the square, we can go there.”

You looked up at him, his face bright with reassurance and excitement. His confidence was contagious, and you couldn't help but feel a flicker of eagerness stir inside you. With a small nod, you stood up, holding the dress close to your chest. “Alright, if I end up winning all prices, not my fault.”

Wooyoung beamed, clapping his hands together in delight. “That’s the spirit! Now, let’s get you ready. The kingdom won’t know what hit them.” With that, the palace maids hurried in, ready to assist with your transformation, and the preparations for the grand celebration truly began.  

Today’s celebration was monumental, a day of grand importance, honoring not only the King’s birthday but also the rich history and countless discoveries that shaped the kingdom into what it was. The palace was already abuzz with excitement, the walls echoing with the laughter and lively chatter of nobles and attendants preparing for the festivities. Outside, beyond the castle gates, the kingdom itself seemed to hum with life as people flocked to the streets in anticipation of the grand event. 

You stood by the entrance of the palace, your eyes drifting toward the lively streets just beyond the palace gates. The town was already alive with the colors and sounds of celebration. Vibrant banners fluttered in the breeze, strung across the buildings, and the distant beat of drums echoed through the air, carried by the laughter of children. You watched them dart through the streets, flying kites and spinning small wind spinner toys, their joy infectious as they chased each other under the midday sun.

You found yourself smiling at the scene, a sense of excitement building within you as you waited. Wooyoung had told you he’d only be a moment—just grabbing his satchel, he’d said—but as the minutes passed, you grew more curious. Your thoughts wandered between the anticipation of the festival and the conversations you'd share with Wooyoung once you were outside, away from the palace's formality.

But unbeknownst to you, chaos was brewing inside.

At that very moment, Wooyoung, his mischievous grin practically glowing with excitement, was pushing San—quite literally—toward the palace entrance. San, who had been completely unprepared for this, stumbled forward, trying to catch his balance as Wooyoung spun him around by his shoulders.

“Come on, San!” Wooyoung said with a laugh, shoving a satchel into his hands. San let out a small, surprised "oof" as the bag hit his chest. Before he could even register what was happening, Wooyoung spun him again, his hands firm on San’s shoulders as he marched him straight toward the palace doors.

“Wait—what?” San managed to sputter, blinking in confusion as Wooyoung, still moving with incredible speed, reached past him to pull the palace doors open. In one swift motion, Wooyoung pushed San out through the doors and into the bright sunlight, leaving him standing on the palace steps.

“Enjoy!” Wooyoung chirped with a wink, before slamming the palace doors shut behind him, cutting off any further protests.

San stood there, bewildered, clutching the satchel tightly against his chest. For a moment, he simply blinked, trying to piece together what had just happened. His mind spun. Wooyoung had been relentless, but this was a bit much even for him. Before he could even make sense of the whirlwind that had just taken place, a realization hit him—he was now standing outside, alone, with you waiting just a few steps away.

His heart raced. Wooyoung had convinced him that today was the perfect opportunity to make amends—to make things right after being so uncharacteristically awkward around you ever since you’d arrived in their world. But the suddenness of being thrown into the situation, quite literally, left him flustered and unsure of what to do next.

“San?”

Your voice broke through his scattered thoughts, sending a jolt of surprise through him. His breath hitched in his throat as he turned to face you, his eyes wide. There you were, standing just a few feet away, your expression warm and curious as you looked at him, completely unaware of the chaos that had just unfolded inside. And not only that, you were wearing one of Hongjoong’s masterpieces.

One of the dresses was made for a princess. San felt his heart skip a beat. He swallowed hard, clutching the satchel even tighter to his chest like it was some sort of lifeline. His mind scrambled for words, for something—anything—he could say that wouldn’t make him seem like a complete fool.

“Hi,” he managed, a shaky and somewhat awkward smile tugging at his lips. His voice came out softer than he’d intended, as if all the confidence had drained from him the moment he saw you.

For a moment, he stood there frozen, still trying to process what had just happened. Wooyoung’s words echoed in his head—this was his chance to make things right. But now, faced with the reality of being here with you, San could barely think straight. He wanted to apologize, to explain himself, to make up for all the times he had stumbled over his words or seemed distant. But right now, all he could do was stand there, heart racing, trying not to look too overwhelmed.

You tilted your head slightly, your gaze softening as you took a small step closer. “Are you alright?” you asked, your voice laced with genuine concern. There was a gentle warmth in your eyes, the kind that always seemed to calm the chaos in San’s mind. It was that look—the one that made him want to protect you, to be someone worthy of standing by your side.

San let out a small, nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m… fine. Just, uh… Wooyoung… you know how he is,” he mumbled, trying to regain his composure, though it was clear he was still a little flustered.

You smiled, your eyes sparkling with amusement, at his sudden odd attitude that he rarely shows despite knowing him for being strict, serious and seeing this other side of him made you feel at ease as it resembles the San in your universe. “He can be a handful,” you agreed, shaking your head.

There was a brief pause as San glanced down at the satchel in his hands, then back up at you. He knew this was his moment to say something meaningful, to make up for his earlier awkwardness. But instead, all he could do was offer you a small, hopeful smile.

San stood beside you, his expression a mix of eagerness and apprehension. The guilt of his earlier accusations weighed heavily on him, and today, he was determined to show you just how much he regretted them. "Are you ready for an adventure?" he asked, a tentative smile breaking through the clouds of uncertainty.

His question took you by surprise though you shook it off you hesitated, recalling the confrontation that had unfolded days before. The thought of his earlier accusations nagged at you, making you wonder if this was all some elaborate prank or, worse, a trap. "Is this a prank?" you asked, skepticism lacing your words.

San’s face fell slightly, and you could see the hurt flicker in his eyes, but he maintained his resolve. "My father would have my head if I would joke about this, I swear.” He extends his hand to the buzzling streets, “I just want to show you my world, our culture." He stepped closer, lowering his voice as if to shield your conversation from prying ears. "I have made a graceful mistake by accusing you of misdeed. You were simply helping me—us to lift this curse even if you have no background whatsoever."

You stared at him in disbelief. You never thought you would hear him apologise, heck admitting his fault, it brought you familiarity on how San would apologise even for the smallest thing, like breaking the tip of your favorite pencil and buying you a box of similar pencils. As you looked into his eyes, you could sense the sincerity behind his words. After what felt like an eternity of silence, you sighed, your heart softening. "Okay, but if this turns into a trap, you owe me," you replied, crossing your arms defiantly, yet unable to hide the hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

“Shall we…?” he asked, his voice soft but filled with a quiet sincerity, as he gestured toward the vibrant, bustling town beyond the palace gates. You have forgotten about Wooyoung as you were so focused on this new side of San and agree nevertheless.

San walk alongside you, your hands brushing against each other as you explored the market stalls brimming with sweet treats and handmade crafts. San led the two of you on sampling the festival's delicacies—warm, spiced pastries and sugary confections—your laughter ringing out as you tried to guess the flavors together. In his eyes, he saw you glowing in the soft light of lanterns, your eyes sparkling with excitement, and he felt an overwhelming urge to protect that happiness.

So when he sees your smile, a smile breaks on San’s lips as he feels his insides churning in excitement as he sees you smile. At him.

Just a few hours earlier, San had found himself standing outside Wooyoung’s room, his pride nearly suffocating him. He had replayed the moments leading up to your fallout in his mind over and over, and the more he thought about it, the heavier his heart felt. He needed advice, even if it meant swallowing his pride. 

Knocking softly, he opened the door to find Wooyoung lounging on his bed, a book in hand. "What’s wrong, San? You look like you have seen a ghost."

San took a deep breath, fighting back the embarrassment that threatened to bubble to the surface. “I know I speak words that hurted your friend but I am willing to correct them …” Wooyoung places his book down, watching his cousin beat himself up. He chuckles, “Just tell me San.”   

San sighs deeply, “I really need your help to make it right with Miss Brigid."

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? What did you do this time?"

San explained, his voice a mix of frustration and regret as he recounted the confrontation. "I may have spoken before I thought and I hurted her emotionally. And I need to show her that I care, thankful even for helping us all from this curse. I want her to trust me again."

A grin broke out on Wooyoung’s face, his heart melting. It reminded him of San in the other universe, he was a gentleman. "You’re going to need more than a simple apology for that. I know you thought of the festival which is good, she really likes them. It’s the perfect opportunity to share our culture and make some happy memories."

San nodded, a flicker of hope igniting within him. "And what if she thinks it’s another trap?"

"Convince her otherwise. Remind her how much she means to you. But I mind you dear cousin, it takes at least thirty minutes of convincing, and you’ll have her by your side." Wooyoung’s words filled him with determination— plans before Wooyoung ran off somewhere.

Now, as you traversed the lively streets, San began to share the rich history of his kingdom with you. He pointed out the various stalls selling traditional crafts, explaining the significance of each item with an infectious enthusiasm. You couldn’t help but smile at his passion, the tension from before slowly melting away.

Every moment spent with you during the festival would be a chance for him to show you the beauty of his world, a stark contrast to the weight of the curse that loomed over them. It would be an opportunity to create joyful memories that might distract both of you, if only for a little while, from the heaviness of reality. He resolved then and there to make the day unforgettable for you, to share in the joy and revelry that the festival promised. It was a chance to embrace hope amidst uncertainty, and he was determined to make it special—because you deserved that, and so much more.

The vibrant sounds of the festival enveloped you as you stepped into the bustling town square, excitement buzzing in the air like a live wire. Colorful banners hung overhead, fluttering in the gentle breeze, while the enticing aromas of roasted meats and sweet pastries filled your senses. Everywhere you looked, families and friends were enjoying the festivities, laughter ringing out like music. 

He walks towards one the stall, claiming something while the vendor bows before you watch San walk back towards you. You raised him an eyebrow, “Souvenir for your father?”

San chuckled as he kept the gift in his pocket, “No and my father has no habit of collecting such things.” You chuckle too, looking at the other stalls, “But you do.”

San nodded, surprised at your sudden guess, “Y-Yeah, I do.” His eyes trails on your figure as you peered over other stalls with their merchandise, an excited look on your face as the vendor explains the stones and other artifacts.

He moved beside you, "That’s a traditional kimchi stall! You have to try it," he insisted, leading you to a vendor with an array of vibrant jars filled with pickled vegetables. You sampled a piece, the spicy, tangy flavor exploding in your mouth, and laughed at the way San’s eyes lit up at your reaction. His delight was contagious, and you felt the warmth of connection blossoming between you.

As the sun began to set, the atmosphere shifted, and the festival transformed. Small make-shift lanterns were hung on the streets, making it lively and nostalgic as you both made your way to the riverside where the lanterns were laid.  Lanterns were lit, their soft glow illuminating the faces around you. You felt a sense of anticipation in the air, and San’s excitement was palpable.

"Tonight’s the lantern ceremony," San said, his voice laced with excitement and nostalgia. "It’s a tradition to release lanterns into the sky, symbolizing our hopes and dreams."

The crowd began to gather around you, and soon you found yourself standing shoulder to shoulder with San. The warmth of his presence was comforting, and the closeness between you felt electric. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him, your heart fluttering in sync with the excitement in the air. As the ceremony commenced, the lanterns floated upwards, their soft glow contrasting against the deepening night sky.

As the first lantern lifted off, memories came rushing back—moments you hadn’t thought about in a while.

"Nerdy girl, I’ll see you later!" Wooyoung called out, throwing his arm around you in a playful side hug before disappearing into the crowd. You frowned, puzzled by his abrupt departure. He was the one who dragged you here in the first place, and now he was off somewhere else.

Huffing in mild frustration, you crossed your arms, lips pursed as you stood to the side, feeling out of place. You had planned to stay home tonight—away from the noise and crowds. You preferred quiet, open spaces where you could finish a good book in peace. But Wooyoung had insisted, showing up unannounced and practically forcing you to come along.

It was your university's foundation celebration, and while the event was loud and bustling, it couldn’t overpower the cold bite of the season. You tugged your cardigan tighter around yourself, watching as more students gathered for the lantern ceremony.

“Hey,” a voice startled you slightly. You looked up to see San, bundled in a cream hoodie layered with a jean jacket, black ripped jeans, and high-top Nikes. He smiled, a little sheepish. "Hey, San," you greeted him back.

He glanced around before meeting your eyes again. “Did you come here alone, or are you waiting for Wooyoung?”

You rolled your eyes, letting out a small sigh. "Neither. Wooyoung dragged me here and then ditched me."

San chuckled, shaking his head. "Classic Wooyoung."

Just as you were about to respond, fireworks exploded in the sky, vibrant bursts of color lighting up the night. The crowd cheered, but the booming sound made your chest tighten, sending a sudden wave of unease through you. Without thinking, your hand reached for San’s. It was a habit of yours whenever loud, heavy booming sounds startled you—Wooyoung had always insisted on holding your hand to calm you down. San’s fingers instinctively intertwined with yours, and the touch sent a jolt through you. The simple contact felt electrifying.

You glanced up at him, expecting him to pull away, but the way he looked at you that night—a mixture of surprise, warmth, and something more—left you breathless. In that fleeting moment, it felt as though the world around you had vanished, leaving only the two of you, suspended in the beauty of the night.

And though the fireworks continued to crackle and the crowd buzzed with excitement, all you could focus on was the warmth of San’s hand in yours and the silent connection that now lingered between you.

As fireworks burst overhead, and San beside you, sharing laughter and fleeting glances. In that moment, you absentmindedly reached for his hand the booming sound echoing inside your chest that it scares you, intertwining your fingers with his, and felt a jolt of electricity at the simple contact yet the way San looked at you that night never left your face. 

It was as if the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you suspended in a beautiful moment.

But then, reality snapped back into focus. You felt a gentle tug, and as you turned, you realized San had moved behind you, his hands encircling yours as he helped you release your lantern into the night sky. The gentle pressure of his grip was both grounding and exhilarating, a reminder of his presence that sent shivers down your spine.

"Make a wish," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear, sending a thrill coursing through you. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the flickering light of the lantern guide your thoughts, the closeness of his body heightening your senses.

San watch you close your eyes and open them momentarily, a smile on your lips. San became curious, “What did you wish for?". You shake your head, “It won’t come true if I say it.” you said softly, glancing back at him. The sincerity in his gaze made your heart race, and for a brief second, you felt the weight of everything else fade away. His eyes held a depth of emotion that made you want to lose yourself in them.

As your lantern floated higher, you looked at San, the shared moment brimming with unspoken words. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you amidst the rising lights. His fingers tightened around yours, a silent promise that ignited hope in your chest.

"Brigid if I may—" he said, his voice low and earnest, "I— I am sorry. My deepest apology may not take away those hurtful words I have said to you, doubted you when all you did was act out of kindness." His admission hung in the air, heavy with sincerity, and your heart swelled at his words. In that instant, with the glow of the lanterns illuminating your faces, you felt something shift between you—an understanding, a connection that transcended words. You took a step closer, emboldened by the magic of the moment, and whispered, "You're forgiven, San."

As the townspeople retreated back to their homes, the echoes of laughter and music slowly faded into the quiet of the night. The once-bustling streets were now empty, save for the soft flicker of lanterns that lined the paths leading to the palace. You and San walked side by side, your steps falling in sync, the festival’s energy still buzzing between you like the faint hum of a melody carried on the evening breeze.

The festival had been a whirlwind of color and sound, filling your senses with life and vibrancy. Even now, as you walked through the grand palace gates, you found yourself still basking in the afterglow of the shared moments with San—the warmth of his presence, the laughter you both exchanged, and the unspoken tension that lingered beneath the surface, a reminder of the unresolved words from before.

“I must admit,” San began, his voice breaking the peaceful quiet with a playful lilt, “I was quite astonished by your reaction to the kimchi stall.” His lips curved into a teasing smile, his eyes bright with amusement. “You handled the spiciness like a true warrior.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the warmth in his words spreading through your chest, easing some of the tension you hadn’t realized was still there. “I’m hot myself so it’s nothing.”

San chuckled beside you, his gaze lingering on you with something deeper, but before either of you could speak again, the peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by the hurried sound of footsteps. A figure came bounding down the grand staircase of the palace, moving so quickly that it caught both you and San off guard.

 The familiar sight of freckles scattered across the person’s cheeks immediately clued you in—it was Prince Hongjoong. His typically composed demeanor was nowhere to be found as he scurried down the steps with such haste that it seemed as though he were being chased by an unseen force. His rich robes fluttered wildly behind him, and his usually sharp eyes were wide with urgency.

“Prince Hongjoong?” San called out, already moving towards him. But in Hongjoong’s haste, his foot caught the edge of the last step, and time seemed to slow as he stumbled forward. His body pitched forward violently, and in that instant, San lunged towards him, his arms outstretched, catching the prince just before he hit the marble floor.

 You rushed forward as well, your heart in your throat, reaching out instinctively to steady him by grabbing his hand.

“Prince Hongjoong!” you exclaimed softly, concern evident in your voice. But just as you reached for him, Hongjoong lifted his head to look at you, and the moment his eyes met yours, you froze. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, the sound reverberating in the vast hall as your heart plummeted. Your body moved on its own, stumbling back a step in shock as the breath was knocked from your lungs.

His eyes—once filled with such vitality and fire—were now clouded over, a ghostly white veil covering them entirely. They looked almost hollow, as if cataracts had consumed his sight. The image of him like this sent a cold, prickling sensation down your spine, fear creeping into your bones. Your hand instinctively dropped from his, and you staggered back, wide-eyed in disbelief.

Your voice quivered when you managed to speak, your mind struggling to comprehend the sight before you. “W-What happened?”

Hongjoong’s face was pale, his expression distant yet filled with a weight of sorrow that made your chest tighten. His hand still gripped San’s arm for support, but his body seemed fragile, as if the weight of something unseen was bearing down on him.

“The curse…” His voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse and strained as if even speaking pained him. But the weight of those two simple words hung in the air like an oppressive cloud, chilling you to your very core. Time seemed to stop. The word “curse” echoed in your mind, and a thousand thoughts flooded in at once, each more terrifying than the last. Your blood ran cold, and before you could even fully grasp the situation, dread took over.

 The realization hit you like a tidal wave—Wooyoung.

Without another word, you let go of Hongjoong’s hand, your breath growing ragged as panic set in. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest as you turned and sprinted down the corridor, your footsteps echoing off the walls like thunder.

“Brigid!” San’s voice called out after you, filled with concern, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t afford to listen or wait. You had to get to Wooyoung.

The palace hallways blurred past you as you ran, your pulse quickening with each step. The air around you seemed to grow thicker with each passing moment, the walls closing in as fear gripped your heart. Each second felt like an eternity, and all you could think about was your friend—your mind racing with the thought of him trapped, helpless, suffering because of something beyond your control.

By the time you reached Wooyoung’s chamber, the door was already slightly ajar, and you could hear faint murmurs coming from inside. Pushing the door open, you were greeted by the sight that made your heart lurch in your chest.

Several healers stood around Wooyoung’s bed, their faces etched with concern and helplessness. They fanned him frantically, their hands moving in practiced motions, but despite their efforts, Wooyoung’s condition was deteriorating. He lay gasping for breath, his chest rising and falling with sharp, uneven movements. His skin was clammy, beads of sweat clinging to his brow, and his eyes—once full of mischief—now fluttered weakly, barely open.

“No… no, no, no!” you whispered in horror, your voice trembling as you rushed to his bedside. Without thinking, you pushed your way through the healers, collapsing to your knees beside him and grabbing his hand, clutching it desperately. His hand was cold, far too cold. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gripped his hand tighter, willing him to stay with you.

 “Woo… please,” you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. “You’re going to be okay! I—We just have to find her temple or whatever, and speak to her. Please, just hold on!”

The words tumbled from your lips in a rush, a desperate plea to keep your friend tethered to this world. But even as you spoke, the panic clawed at you, threatening to consume you whole. The healers worked tirelessly, but the look in their eyes told you the truth—they were running out of time and the answer should be shown soon.

“Miss Brigid,” one of the healers spoke softly, trying to pull you away, but you shook your head fiercely, refusing to leave his side.

“No!” you cried out, your voice breaking. “He can’t… Please do something! Not like this!”

You leaned closer to Wooyoung, tears still spilling down your cheeks as you whispered, your voice trembling. “Please, Wooyoung. You have to fight. I know you’re strong. You’ve always been so strong. Don’t give up now. I can’t lose you.”

For a moment, the room was still, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched him struggle for breath. But then, like a miracle, Wooyoung’s chest rose deeply as he took a slow, steady breath. His face softened, and the tension that gripped his body eased, allowing you to breathe properly too. Relief washed over you as you let out a shaky breath, your hands rubbing his arm in comfort.

“Wooyoung-ie,” you murmured gently, your voice a mix of relief and affection.

He chuckled weakly, his voice barely a whisper, but the teasing warmth in his tone was unmistakable. “Stop being so dramatic, nerdy girl.”

A watery laugh bubbled out of you, the tears still rolling down your cheeks, but now they carried the weight of relief rather than fear. “I can’t help it,” you sniffled, wiping your face with the back of your hand as you smiled down at him.

The room fell into a peaceful quiet, the tension slowly melting away as the weight of the curse seemed to loosen its grip—at least for now. You didn’t know how much time had passed, and you didn’t care. All you knew was that you were staying with Wooyoung, refusing to leave his side, afraid that if you let him go, he might fall into another episode of the curse’s cruel grasp.

You lay beside him, listening to the gentle sound of his breathing, the silence of the night slowly engulfing his room. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the dark space, making the world feel almost serene despite the lingering fear. Wooyoung remained on his back, his gaze distant as he stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

It was Wooyoung who finally broke the silence. His voice was low, almost hesitant, as if he had been wrestling with the decision to say the words aloud. “You guys have to move tomorrow morning without me.”

You blinked, pushing yourself up slightly to look at him. “Would you be okay with it?”

“As much as I want to go with you…” His eyes met yours, filled with sadness and resignation, the weight of it almost pulling you closer. “The healers were right. I need to stay behind and recover.” His voice softened, his gaze searching yours for understanding. A moment passed in silence before you noticed a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“Speaking of that … San will be coming with you, and… what happened earlier, huh?” His eyebrows raised mischievously, teasing as always, as if he found joy in lightening the mood even when things were heavy.

You huffed, rolling your eyes in playful exasperation. “Please, he just showed me around and apologized. It’s nothing.”

“A good night, you say…” he stretched the words, eyes gleaming with a sly look, “…sounds more like a good date, doesn’t it?”

A surprised laugh escaped you, and you swatted his arm gently. “Stop it, Wooyoung.” His chuckle lingered in the air, but soon enough, the playful exchange faded into quiet.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy. You hesitated, feeling the weight of everything unsaid. Slowly, you sat up a little more, studying his face—his exhaustion, the hidden strain beneath his teasing exterior. His smile had faded too, replaced by a look of quiet resignation.

“I have a question,” you said, your voice softer now, the tension in the room subtly shifting. Wooyoung pushed himself up slightly, resting against the headboard with a sigh. He looked exhausted, but there was a seriousness in his gaze that told you he was ready to talk. “This curse,” you began, your voice quiet but firm, “you said your cousins have curses too. How many cousins do you have in total?”

His expression darkened slightly at the mention of the curse, his usual playful demeanor slipping away. He paused, considering the weight of the question before answering. “There are five of us,” he said finally, his voice low, as if speaking the truth aloud might invite more danger. “Each with our own… burdens.”

 “There’s Noella, Hongjoong… San, of course. And Yeosang and Yunho—those two are brothers.”

You furrowed your brow, the idea of more people like Wooyoung—people trapped by the same unseen forces—settling in your mind. “Five…” you repeated softly. “What kind of curses do they carry?”

His eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place, a mixture of pain and reluctance. “Each one is different. Unique to us. Some are… easier to bear. Others, not so much.” He looked away, his gaze distant, as if remembering something painful. “We don’t talk about it much, not even among ourselves.”

A sense of unease crept up your spine as you processed his words. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Wooyoung’s eyes snapped back to yours, and there was a flicker of regret in them. “It’s not something you just tell someone you care about,” he said, voice quieter now. “Not when you’re trying to protect them.”

You felt a pang in your chest at his words, understanding the burden he must have been carrying all along. “But now… I’m part of this.” The realization settling in.

His face softening as he reached out to take your hand, squeezing it gently. “And I wish I could shield you from it. But…” he trailed off, looking down at your intertwined hands, “things are changing. Fast. And you deserve to know everything.”

The room fell into silence again, the gravity of the situation weighing on both of you. But this time, the silence wasn’t awkward or forced. It was a shared moment of understanding, one that connected you both even deeper than before.

“.. If Noella and Hongjoong,” you mused aloud, “their eyes turned white, like they had cataracts or something.” You paused, remembering Hongjoong’s earlier appearance. “You… can’t breathe properly sometimes. But I haven’t seen much of a curse on San.”

Wooyoung nodded, clicking his tongue as if impressed by how quickly you were putting the pieces together. “Well, it depends on what each family line is good at. Take Hongjoong-hyung’s family, for example. Their line is all about predictions—their eyes are their source of power. The curse took that from them.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. “Wait… then you—” You stopped, staring at him with wide eyes. “You have powers too?!”

Wooyoung grinned at your sudden excitement, though he pressed a finger to his lips to shush you. “Not so loud, nerdy girl.” He winked, but his smile turned mischievous as he raised his hand, and with a simple flick of his fingers, the trees outside the window swayed violently, as if caught in a powerful gust of wind.

Your eyes widened in awe, your mouth dropping open again. “Wait… wind? Air? Your family business is trading goods… Does that mean you and your family use the wind to your advantage? That’s why your shipments always arrive on time!”

Wooyoung chuckled, nodding at your deduction. “So smart, nerdy girl,” he teased, though his tone carried a note of pride.

You smiled back at him, the another fact settling over you like a warm blanket. It was almost unbelievable—like stepping into the pages of a fantasy novel you’d once dreamed of living in. Yet, here you were, in a world where curses, powers, and ancient family lines held the key to survival. It was strange, but in a way, it felt like this was where you were meant to be. The thrill of adventure mingled with the responsibility of saving those you cared about.

But as your thoughts began to drift, another name popped into your mind. “If you have a curse related to air,” you began slowly, “and Hongjoong’s family is cursed with their vision…” You hesitated, frowning as you pieced the puzzle together. “What about San?”

Wooyoung’s expression shifted, his eyebrows furrowing as if surprised you hadn’t figured it out already. “I thought you knew by now.”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “He doesn’t show much of his curse like the rest of you.”

“That’s because,” Wooyoung replied thoughtfully, “it doesn’t have to show like ours. San’s curse doesn’t manifest physically—it reveals things.”

“Reveals?” you echoed, your mind racing as you tried to recall any moments when San might have mentioned or shown signs of a curse.

Just as you were about to delve deeper into the mystery, Wooyoung reached out and gently tugged you back down onto the bed. “Don’t stress yourself out too much,” he murmured, his voice soft with concern. “You’ve got a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

You blinked up at him, surprised by the sudden change in tone, but the exhaustion in his eyes was enough to keep you from protesting. Wooyoung was right—you couldn’t afford to burn yourself out, not when there were still so many questions left unanswered. With a reluctant sigh, you allowed yourself to settle back down beside him, your head resting on the pillow.

The room fell silent again, the faint rustling of the wind outside and the steady rise and fall of Wooyoung’s breathing the only sounds that filled the space. Tomorrow, you’d have to face whatever dangers awaited you, but for now, in the quiet of the night, you found solace in the simple act of being there—by his side, safe, for just a little while longer.

“I’ll stand by you,” you whispered, tightening your grip on his hand, “no matter what.”

Wooyoung’s lips curved into a small, grateful smile, but there was a sadness in his eyes that he couldn’t hide. “I know you will. That’s what scares me the most.”

Before the first rays of sunlight pierced the horizon, you and San had already mounted your horses, the soft clopping of hooves the only sound in the stillness of dawn. The chill of the early morning air nipped at your skin, but you both were cloaked in thick woolen garments to ward off the cold. As you adjusted the straps of your satchel, a weight of uncertainty settled in your chest. The book you had brought with you offered insight, its pages filled with knowledge, speaking of those who, threatened by curses or danger, would seek refuge in the most remote parts of the land—where the river met the open sea, deep in the mountains.

You hoped this would be the case for the person you sought.

“I believe they could be hiding there,” you murmured, more to yourself than to anyone else. The possibility weighed heavily on your mind.

San, riding beside you, tugged his cloak tighter around his shoulders, glancing at the others preparing for the journey. His eyes met yours, and a spark of determination lit in his gaze. “Are you ready, Brigid?” he asked, his voice steady, though you could hear the underlying tension. He knew the journey ahead would be long and treacherous, but his confidence remained unwavering.

You straightened in your saddle, the satchel strapped across your body securing the precious book and a few spare clothes you might need. The road ahead was uncertain, but the stakes were high. This quest could be the key to ending the curse and protecting the heirs of the kingdom. You nodded, offering him a soft smile. “I’m ready. This is for all of you.”

San’s lips curved into a smile, a genuine warmth radiating from him that momentarily chased away the cold. “Thank you,” he said, his gratitude clear in the way his eyes softened.

You returned his smile, feeling a surge of loyalty to the prince and the cause you were fighting for. “It’s my pleasure, Prince San.”

At the sound of his title, San’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, and he quickly waved it off, trying to mask his reaction with a playful grin. “Please,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “just call me San.”

Holding the map tightly in your hand, you and the others navigated through the winding path toward the mountains. The sun had now fully risen, casting a soft, golden glow over the landscape. The river beside you was calm, its surface reflecting the blue sky, while a gentle breeze rustled the leaves around you. The morning was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos and danger that had haunted your recent days. As you rode, you found yourself momentarily lost in thought, remembering how this journey was something you had once dreamed about. It reminded you of the countless times you wished for an escape from the unrelenting stress of college. Now, here you were—on a real adventure, though far more perilous than you'd ever imagined.

Above, the clouds were fluffy and vast, and birds chirped merrily, soaring across the sky. It made you feel hopeful, if only for a brief moment. You allowed yourself to believe that perhaps this journey would be okay—that you would find answers and finally lift the curse. But that fragile hope was quickly shattered. A sudden unease gnawed at you, sending a chill down your spine. Something wasn’t right.

Your gut instinct flared, a warning you couldn't ignore. Your eyes darted around, scanning the trees, the mountains ahead, the riverbanks—anything that might explain the ominous feeling creeping over you. The peaceful morning now seemed like a deceptive veil hiding something darker.

Sensing your sudden change in demeanor, San slowed his horse, gave the map to the guards and looked over at you, concern etched on his face. He reined his horse in closer, handing the map over to one of the guards. “What is it?” he asked, his voice low but tense.

“I… I don’t think we should go any further,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. Something in the air felt wrong, as if the very atmosphere had shifted.

San frowned, his eyes scanning the surroundings. “Murks?”

“I’m not sure. It feels… stronger than that. Whatever it is, it’s not just a murk.” Your voice trailed off, the growing sense of dread tightening your chest. You could feel something powerful closing in.

Suddenly, San gasped, his hand flying to his head as he clutched it in pain. His groan was guttural, full of agony. His horse sensed his distress and neighed in panic, its hooves stomping nervously. The other horses also picked up on the disturbance, becoming restless and uneasy. Whatever was coming, they felt it too.

You leapt from your horse without hesitation, rushing to San’s side. You grabbed the reins of his horse, calming the frantic animal as you called for the guards to assist. Together, you managed to dismount San from his horse, carefully laying him down on the grass at the side of the road. His face was contorted in pain, his body trembling as he clutched his head, his jaw clenched tight.

“San… San…” you called out, your voice laced with worry. You knelt beside him, feeling utterly helpless. The panic inside you grew with each second that passed, but you tried to steady your breathing, knowing you had to be strong. “This… this is the symptoms…”

San’s groans deepened, his fingers digging into his skin as if trying to tear the pain away. You had seen something similar before—the day after the festival when Wooyoung had collapsed, writhing in agony from the curse that burned him from the inside out. But San’s curse seemed different, more intense, more dangerous. His entire body was shaking, as if it were on the verge of breaking under the pressure.

“It’s like the same as the others,” you muttered, your hands hovering over San, unsure of how to help. “But worse…”

San let out a strangled breath, his voice broken and high-pitched. “Are we … close?” he gasped, barely able to form the words. You didn’t know how to answer, your mind racing.

“It… it reveals when it finds its answer…” you murmured, recalling something Noella had once said about the curse’s nature. It didn’t just manifest—it revealed truths, painful truths that were hidden deep within.

San’s body continued to convulse for what felt like an eternity, though it was only minutes. The guards stood nearby, helpless as you were. When the pain finally subsided, San lay there, gasping for air, his body drenched in sweat. His usual strength seemed drained from him, and he looked so weak, so unlike himself. His eyes fluttered open, though they were blurry and unfocused. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, and when he finally focused on you, his lips trembled into a faint smile.

“Don’t… don’t frown,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and faint. “I… I don’t like it when you frown.”

Nothing but your attention was focus solely on his hand. San's scales shimmered under the dim light, casting an eerie, yet mesmerizing glow. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from the dark iridescent scales, tracing their path as they climbed up his arm and disappeared beneath his sleeves. It felt surreal, as though the danger you’d both tried to ignore was suddenly and violently laid bare in front of you. Your heart raced, not just from fear but from guilt. Guilt that you hadn’t tried harder to understand his curse or to help him sooner.

“San… your hand…” you whispered, your voice trembling. You could hardly believe what you were seeing. The curse you had once thought distant, almost abstract, was now physically manifesting before you, inescapable and terrifying.

San followed your gaze, his own face turning pale as he saw the scales spreading further. His jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, his eyes fluttered shut. He seemed to accept it, as if he had known this day would come. But his silence—the heaviness in his expression—told you that the weight of it was something he had carried alone for too long.

The guards, still holding him up, exchanged uneasy glances. You felt their confusion mirrored in your own heart. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. This was no ordinary curse—this was far worse than you had anticipated. The scales weren’t just a sign of his affliction; they were a reminder of the power he had been struggling to contain all along.

“I’m so sorry…” you whispered, your throat tight with emotion. “I never tried to learn about your curse… I was too focused on everything else—on everyone else. I didn’t see you…” Your words came out broken, the weight of your realization pressing down on your chest.

San’s expression softened, though there was a deep sadness in his eyes. “It’s not your fault,” he said quietly, his voice strained. “I pushed you away. I didn’t want you to see this… to see me like this. I thought I could handle it on my own, after all this is my doing.”

You shook your head, your eyes filling with unshed tears. “No, I should have been more mature, I was here— I am here to help you. I should have focused on you instead of being so wrapped up in my own thoughts. You needed me, and I wasn’t there…”

San’s heart ached at your words, and without thinking, he reached out with his scaled hand. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he placed it on top of your head, ruffling your hair the way he always did when he wanted to comfort you. His hand was cool against your scalp, but the familiarity of the gesture made your heart melt. You almost cried on how much you miss this feeling, comforted and doted.

The guards around you froze, eyes wide at the sight of their prince, a figure known for his strength and stoicism, acting with such tenderness. But San didn't care about their reactions. His only focus was on you.

“You worry too much, witch,” he said with a small, tired smile, though his eyes glimmered with something softer, something warmer. It was as though in that moment, despite everything—the curse, the danger, the pain—he found peace in your presence.

His words sent a wave of warmth through you, momentarily pushing aside the fear and uncertainty that had gripped you. You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection and concern, remembering what Wooyoung had told you the night before: If the pain is slowly harming them, if it’s too much to bear, it means you’re getting closer to the answer.

You nodded slowly, determination settling in your chest. This wasn’t the end—it couldn’t be. You had a purpose here, and that purpose was San. His curse wasn’t just something you had to understand; it was something you had to help him break, no matter how dangerous or difficult the path ahead might be.

With a deep breath, you looked into his eyes, the weight of your vow clear in your voice. “I’m not giving up on you, San.”

San’s smile widened, though the pain still lingered in the edges of his expression. “I know,” he whispered softly, his hand still resting on your head as though drawing strength from your resolve. “I believe in you.”

taglist: @passerbyforfun . @seongwars . @candied-czennie . @ffenjoyerdazme

[fayesdiary]

If you though that it was weird that the Deers were less involved then the Lions, then don't because the Lions are somehow the only individuals involved. See how some of them like Ashe and Sylvain have chapter where a family member intervenes ? Happens only to them.

I think that's because there is in reality a total of 4 writers for that game and that it seems each route was writen by a different writers.

Oh believe me, I know. 3H shamelessly recycles content in a way I don't think I've ever seen and White Clouds is the shining example. At least with the Eagles you have the hindsight of Edie and Hubert planning to stab them all in the back, but the Deer don't get even that and so feel really disconnected from everything that happens.

Seriously though, if they didn't want to radically change White Clouds depending on the house you chose (as in, having different missions where the students of your house are actually directly involved) they could have at least had some chapters that give students of the other houses the same chance Ashe and Sylvain got.

[pearlcatcher-problems]

I love your OW + Echoes of the Eye skins! I never thought of Dusthides as potentially Owlk like. Great job!!!

aaaaaa thank you! I'm so glad the game was clear beyond the naming stuff ; w;

I knew I wanted to make this skin as soon as I saw antlers with the dusthide release. It was fun to play around with themes from the game and adapt it in my own little way, super excited to try new games in the future!

[elevenelvess]

Still seething over the fact i didn’t like the rwrb movie. Like, i knew better, but still had expectations so high they couldn’t possibly be reached.

[connorsui]

Bound by Diamonds - Sylus x reader

Genre/warnings: pure fluff, established relationship between the both of you, teasing, sweet kiss, darry ring (a literal soulmate ring), no warnings …unless you want to say no to his proposal..

Synopsis: Sylus carefully plans the perfect moment to present you with a lifelong promise.

Note: the most expensive darry ring is well over 150 grand in U.S currency …that is the equivalent of $5 dollars in Sylus money

w.c: 2,119

VIP: @zanyssins (I thought u might like this ...)

The night felt like something out of a dream, the kind you didn’t want to wake up from. The streets were alive with the hum of the city, the faint glow of the streetlights illuminating the sidewalk as Sylus guided you toward the restaurant. His hand was warm, steady, wrapped around yours with a casual but firm grip that spoke of his protectiveness—a gesture you had come to know well over the years.

Sylus, as always, had made sure every detail was perfect. The air held a cool crispness, carrying with it the subtle scent of rain that had fallen earlier in the evening. His steps were confident, exuding the quiet authority that made heads turn as you walked into the grand entrance of the restaurant. You caught a glimpse of the way people shifted in their seats, straightening as he passed, their gazes following him with a mixture of respect and curiosity. There was no denying Sylus held power, not just in your life, but in the world beyond it. He had a presence that commanded attention, but with you, it was softer, more intimate.

The host greeted you with an almost reverential nod, leading the two of you through the dimly lit space. The restaurant itself was an oasis of luxury—high ceilings adorned with chandeliers that sparkled like clusters of stars, and soft music playing in the background, barely audible but creating a calm ambiance. Sylus had arranged for a private room, of course. He always did when it came to moments like these. Privacy was something he valued when it came to you.

As the waiter opened the door to your secluded table, your breath caught in your throat. The room was stunning—glass walls on three sides that offered a panoramic view of the city below. The lights from the skyscrapers stretched out endlessly, flickering like tiny diamonds in the distance. You could see the entire skyline, the towering structures glittering against the inky black sky. It was the kind of view that made you feel like you were floating above the world, a private escape far away from the chaos below.

Sylus gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he led you to the table. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, that signature teasing note dancing in his words.

You turned to him, catching the way the city’s lights reflected in his eyes—those mesmerizing crimson eyes that never failed to draw you in. They burned with intensity, as if every emotion he felt for you was captured in their depths. You smiled softly, feeling your heart flutter as you nodded. “It’s far greater than beauty… it’s stunning.”

Sylus’s gaze never left you, a smile playing on his lips as he leaned closer, his voice soft and intimate. “And yet, as stunning as this view is, it pales in comparison to the radiance you bring into my life. To me, you are the true masterpiece—more breathtaking than any cityscape, more precious than anything im bound to give you”

He countered smoothly, pulling out your chair with the kind of grace and charm that was so uniquely Sylus. “Tonight, let me show you just how much you mean to me,” he said, his eyes holding yours with a deep, earnest gaze. “Because you deserve to know that, no matter where we are or what we’re doing, you are the center of my universe.”

Heat flushed your cheeks, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Please, if you keep talking like that you might as well make me believe in total perfection ” you teased, lowering yourself into the plush seat. The cushions were soft, molding to your form, and the table was adorned with a single candle flickering in the center, casting a warm, romantic glow over everything.

Sylus took his seat across from you, his long fingers playing with the edge of the menu, though his attention never wavered from you. “It’s not about being perfect, sweetheart,” he said, leaning forward slightly, the flame of the candle reflecting in his eyes. “It’s about being honest”

There was something in his tone tonight—something deeper, more deliberate. You could feel it, the way his gaze lingered on your face, the way his fingers tapped idly against the table as if holding back some secret. But for now, you let it slide, content to fall into the easy rhythm of your usual banter.

For a while, the two of you talked, slipping effortlessly into conversation like you always did. You told him about your day, about the little frustrations and victories at work, the mundane details of life that seemed so much more interesting when shared with him. Sylus listened with the same rapt attention he always gave you, his eyes softening as he watched you speak, a small smile playing on his lips.

“ — I would love for the both of us to have some peace together …alone” you smiled, leaning back in your chair, “I know everything has become so demanding these days – so, having something cozy as a cabin would be sweet”

Sylus tilted his head slightly, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his wine glass. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you want a getaway?” His smirk widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Because you know I’m always game for spoiling you.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips. “You spoil me enough as it is. Sometimes I think you’re trying to make me a little too used to luxury.”

He chuckled, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Only the best for my love. Besides, why wouldn't you think you deserve it. You deserve everything.”

His words were so sincere, so full of warmth that it made your heart swell in your chest. You looked down at your glass for a moment, trying to hide the way your pulse quickened under his intense gaze. “You’re too good to me, Sylus.”

His eyes darkened slightly, a more serious expression crossing his face. “I don’t think you realize how much I mean that,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

Before you could respond, the waiter arrived with the bottle of wine Sylus had chosen—a rare vintage, no doubt, something he’d picked specifically for the occasion. He poured two glasses with expert precision, and Sylus raised his in a silent toast.

“To you,” he said, his voice soft, reverent. “To us.”

You clink your glass gently against his, taking a sip of the rich, velvety wine. It was perfect, of course, just like everything Sylus planned. But as the conversation continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was on his mind, something unspoken.

It was in the way he watched you—his eyes never leaving your face, even as you spoke about the most mundane details of your day. He was always attentive, but tonight, it was different. There was a weight in his gaze, a quiet intensity that seemed to hum between you like a current of electricity.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sylus leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the table in that familiar, thoughtful way. He reached into his pocket, his movements slow and deliberate, and your breath caught in your throat when you saw the small, black velvet box in his hand.

Your heart pounded as he set it on the table between you, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows over the velvet. “Sylus…”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently, his voice barely above a whisper. His crimson eyes were locked on yours, filled with a tenderness that took your breath away. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment, the perfect time, the perfect setting, but I realized…that each moment I have tried — my mind couldnt conjure the right words out of my mouth …the right sentence ..or the right feeling ..everything felt out of place ..but tonight is different–this ring is different”

He slid the box across the table, his fingers brushing yours as he did, sending a spark of warmth through you. “This is a promise, sweetheart. A promise that no matter what happens, no matter where life takes us, I’m yours. Always.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you opened the box, revealing a stunning diamond ring nestled inside. It wasn’t just any ring—it was a Darry Ring, a once-in-a-lifetime promise. You’d heard of them before. The kind of ring that symbolized true love, loyalty, and commitment. Sylus had chosen this for you.

“I… Sylus..” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked up at him, the tears threatening to spill over.

Sylus stood then, moving around the table to kneel beside you, his hands gently cupping your face as he smiled softly. “You don’t have to say anything, love. The only thing I would ask is for you to please stay with me”

Your breath hitched as you nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks as you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Yes, I’ll stay with you. Forever.”

He pulled you closer, his lips capturing yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It was soft and gentle at first, but as the moment deepened, it became more passionate, filled with all the love and promise he had for you. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect bubble of intimacy.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were sparkling with a mixture of love and mischief. “A promise ..more of a bound between our souls, don't you think?”

You smiled through your tears, the weight of the ring on your finger a beautiful reminder of his commitment. “gods, you say the most ..its perfection is what it is���your voice still tinged with emotion.

Sylus stood, helping you to your feet, and pulled you into a close embrace, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pressed another tender kiss to your lips. This kiss was soft and full of promise, a sweet punctuation to the heartfelt words and gestures that had defined your evening.

He guided you towards the glass walls of the private room, where the breathtaking view of the city seemed to sparkle even more brightly now. The air outside was crisp, carrying the faintest scent of blooming flowers from the terrace. Sylus led you to the private terrace he had arranged—a cozy space adorned with plush cushions and blankets, perfect for a serene escape under the stars.

The terrace was illuminated by a soft, ambient light from string fairy lights that twinkled overhead. The city lights below glittered like a field of diamonds, their reflections mingling with the soft glow of the lights above. Sylus settled you into the cushions, his hand gently brushing against your cheek as he sat beside you, pulling you close.

“This is where we’ll end our evening,” he said, his voice tender and filled with affection. “Just the two of us, surrounded by all the stars of the night.”

You nestled against him, feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence as you both sank into the soft cushions. Sylus’s arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you into a snug embrace. The peaceful quiet of the night was punctuated only by the occasional distant murmur of the city below and the soft rustling of the wind.

As you looked out over the city, Sylus’s gaze never wavered from you. His eyes were filled with a love so deep it seemed to shimmer in the gentle light. “In a world full of fleeting moments” he murmured, his lips close to your ear, “this is one I want to hold onto forever with you”

You turned your head to look up at him, your heart swelling with a profound sense of happiness. “it almost feels surreal…”

Sylus’s eyes softened even further, his expression a blend of affection and admiration as he pressed a final, soft kiss to your lips. “It's a reality I wish to keep you in”

The night stretched out before you, filled with the promise of many more moments like this. As you lay together on the terrace, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city lights below and the stars above seemed to echo the love and commitment you had just sealed with a kiss. In that perfect moment, you knew that no matter what the future held, you had found something truly special—a promise of forever, made in the glow of love and a diamond ring.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧

Note Part two: I wrote this while listening to Mario Kart Rainbow Road Music! Also a darry ring is a fancy French ring that once you get it — you must sign both of ur names that this relationship is forever and ever and you can't get a second ring for another relationship!

[riki-dazed]

Riki can't help but shower you in hickies

suggestive · wc: 649 · requested

"Rikiiii—" you squirm beneath your boyfriend's large frame, a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth. He hums in response to your whines, his actions against the side of your neck not slowing down in the slightest of ways; your noises only turning him on that much more.

What started as an innocent-enough make out session on your bed, has now taken a sudden turn for the.. better. After some playful bickering between the both of you, Riki managed to pin your figure against the mattress. His hands hold your wrists down by either sides of your head, his body practically laying on top of yours, not allowing you to escape him.

"So pretty for me," his breathy voice purrs beside your ear, soon before grazing his teeth lightly along it. "Wanna taste you..."

The tickling sensation sends you into a fit of quiet giggles beneath Riki, he returns you a sultry smile, his lips now trailing along the skin on your jaw. His actions continue to follow down your neck, causing the playful expression on your face to twist into one that emits pure bliss, and pleasure.

The fact that you can feel him making small movements against your thigh, considering how close your bodies are pressed against one another's, doesn't help your overly flustered situation at all.

Riki's soft lips trace the contours of your neck, as he leaves traces of his warm saliva behind. Feeling his wet kisses against your skin causes you to arch your back off the mattress, your chest meeting his in the process.

He settles his lips on a spot right beneath the back of your jaw, knowing exactly where you like having him. The needy boy wastes no time in beginning to make out with the delicate skin, muffled moans escape his mouth as he starts to suck on it shortly afterwards. He lets go of one of your wrists, his hand now cupping the side of your face, holding you in place for him as he continues sucking on the opposite side.

"Fuck, baby—" you barely manage to utter beneath your breath as your freed hand gravitates towards his hair, your fingers grasping the strands at the back of his head. "Mm, r-right there."

With a final kiss against your skin, and tauntingly slow lick along it, Riki slightly lifts his head back up. His gaze stays focused on the obvious mark his mouth has left behind on you, he can't help but admire it for a short moment.

Feeling a sudden longing for Riki's lips to be back on your skin, you guide his head back down to where you need it. Your fingers, yet again, tug at the strands of his hair at the feeling of having him graze his teeth along your neck. You tilt your head back, surrendering yourself to him completely.

"Does that feel good?" his low tone speaks against your skin. "Hm?"

Feeling lightheaded, your bottom lip finds itself between your teeth again at his question, "Mhm." The smile on his face only grows cockier at your breathy reply.

Riki helps you remove your top before moving his actions to your chest. With the both of your hands now being free of his grasp, you take the opportunity to tug his muscle tee off too, discarding the piece of fabric somewhere across the bed.

He lifts himself off your body, straddling your thigh, as one of his knees settle in-between the both of your thighs. Riki looks down at your figure, admiring you through his hooded eyes. He had become an artist, you, his masterpiece. A canvas for him to leave his marks of desire all over.

As he continues to eye your chest, the newly scattered marks he's left across it causes something within his sweatpants to twitch.

...

Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.

[baeshijima]

hmmm.... thoughts about composer!reader, whose pieces are always created for and featured in mr reca's films/projects.

people aren't sure when it first started, but in the release of one of his prior films was an ost. of course, it's not unusual to have music in such projects, but that one had felt... different, somehow — in the way its composition struck the chords of many, with billions across the cosmos instantly scouring for who made that piece.

it, of course, didn't take all that long when your name was featured in the credits. however there was barely any information aside from your name and credentials. (seriously, how could there not even be a single photo?!) no one knew what you looked like for quite a long time, only ever recognising your name and your music; even despite the numerous interviews, mr reca had never disclosed anything about you other than your talents. it came to a point where everyone believed they would never see your appearance.

well, until all hell broke loose during the annual intergalactic film awards, that is.

everyone already knew the drill — if mr reca had directed a film that year, it would undoubtedly win the adapted/original screenplay, cinematography, directing, production design, sound, music (original score and song), and film of the year awards, which also led to you winning both the music awards. usually, the composers would be the ones to collect said awards. however, the masses have become used to mr reca being the one to collect them on your behalf with thank you's also on your behalf.

that's how it's been ever since you made your mark in the universe, and so it really is understandable the uproar created by those in and out of attendance when the one who went collect the two awards wasn't the esteemed director, but a completely unfamiliar person; you.

you are definitely younger than they originally thought, having believed it must have been someone of a senior status of sorts to have consistently created such masterpieces. all eyes are trained on you as you step on stage and into the limelight for the first time, the light enhancing your features and formal attire when approaching the mic with a small flashcard in hand. your mouth opens, and the audience leans in with baited breaths as they await your first words.

...only for nothing to come out.

everyone watches a little dumbfounded as you try to talk once more but, aside from gaping like a fish, your efforts remain futile. it doesn't take long for you to clamp your mouth and eyes shut, even raising the awards in front of you in an attempt to shield your face from the crowd.

you... you were just really shy. or maybe a little...socially awkward, perhaps...? if this was the reason you never showed yourself, then they're beginning to understand why...

it passes in a blur — quite literally in that of brown. one moment you are alone on the stage, the next you have the presence of the renown director standing slightly in front of you, as though acting as a shield from the many prying eyes.

"apologies," he begins, his usual smile on display, "but my dearest composer has been suffering with a sore throat these past few days. on their behalf, we thank you all kindly for your support in our work."

and then he swiftly leaves with you tucked under and shielded by his coat, murmuring unreadable words to you as you both disappear backstage and leave everyone in a state of frenzy; to both those inside the ceremonial hall, and to those watching live elsewhere.

(it was only discovered after the awards ceremony concluded what the director had said to you, with the uploader being dubbed as a holy saint for their contributions to society. while the visual aspects of the video itself were not the clearest, barely anyone had it within themselves to complain when the audio was clear as crystal:

"and here i thought you were going to be brave and face your stage fright after all that pep-talk you gave yourself on the way here."

"i'm sorry... i really thought i could do it this time..."

"now, now, i'm merely teasing. you made a big step just making an appearance here today. i know how much courage this took for you, and i'm proud of you for facing it."

"really...?"

"but of course. i'm always proud of you, [name]. there is not a moment where i haven't been.")

(it also was not long until the cosmos was taken by storm when various pictures snapped during the awards ceremony spread. the millions of candids featuring you were one of the most liked and shared, with the top spot joined by the sequence of pictures taken of mr reca's soft expression when watching you onstage, into his realisation of your predicament, into him running onstage and shielding you from the cameras when making your way backstage.)

(...the drastic influx of fan accounts dedicated to both you alone and to you and reca should really be a studied phenomenon.)

[solxamber]

Hello! I humbly request Skully J. Graves for the spooky season, please and thank you! (Ps, I LOVE YOUR VILLIANESS SERIES SO MUCH. if you put him in the series, I would love it. Thank you.

Frights and Fancies - Skully J. Graves x reader

I've finally finished the first part of the Halloween event story and here we go! Skully J. Graves for the spooky season!

(this was written before part 2 of the event was out so it might be ooc)

It was almost Halloween, and the Ramshackle Dorm looked like it had exploded in pumpkins, cobwebs, and fake skeletons. Well, not fake enough for Skully, who was currently trying to rearrange a skeleton to perfectly mimic Jack Skellington’s iconic pose.

“This is it! This is exactly how Jack looked when he stood atop Spiral Hill!” Skully beamed, leaning back with a gleeful twirl. “I could cry!”

“Please don’t,” Grim muttered, slumped on the couch like a cat who’d had enough of life. “I’ve seen way too much Halloween today. I’m exhausted.”

You stifled a laugh as Skully pranced across the room, his long coat flowing behind him dramatically. He stopped by a cobweb you’d just hung, delicately adjusting it with reverence. “Ah, this is a masterpiece! The precision, the artistry—oh, Jack would be proud!”

“I bet Jack has a restraining order,” Grim mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Skully didn’t seem to notice the sass. “You don’t understand, Grim! Jack Skellington is the Pumpkin King! He is the very soul of Halloween! Imagine... if I could bring him here, right to this very dorm... oh, we would throw the greatest Halloween party the world has ever seen!”

“You’re throwing it right now, and I hate it,” Grim muttered, pulling a pillow over his head.

Skully, undeterred, rushed over to the pile of pumpkins by the door, holding up the largest one like a trophy. “This one’s going to be the pièce de résistance! I’m going to carve Jack’s face into it—oh, the precision, the skill! It’ll be a tribute!”

You were barely able to stop yourself from laughing as Skully started sketching an intricate face into the pumpkin. It was hard not to get caught up in his excitement, even if it was a little... obsessive.

“Hey, uh, shouldn’t we maybe, I don’t know, check the snacks or something?” you suggested, trying to save Grim from further mental collapse. “We’ve got a whole room full of sweets to prepare.”

“Oh! Of course!” Skully jumped to his feet, pumpkin forgotten. “We must create a feast worthy of Halloween Town itself! Grim, you’ll love this—there will be so many sweets, you won’t be able to handle it!”

“Sounds like my personal hell,” Grim groaned, finally sitting up. “Do we have to? I was kinda hoping to nap.”

Skully was already halfway to the kitchen, humming some eerie tune under his breath. You shot Grim an apologetic look, but he was too busy glaring at the ceiling like he was making a pact with some unseen force to end Halloween forever.

The kitchen was soon filled with the smells of spiced pumpkin and sugary treats. Skully was in his element, flitting around like a Halloween-obsessed ghost, talking nonstop about Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King, and all the Halloween traditions from his foggy village.

“And no one here at school even knows about Jack!” Skully was saying for probably the twentieth time. “Can you believe that? It’s like they’ve never even heard of Halloween!”

“Maybe they’re lucky,” Grim grumbled, stuffing his face with a pumpkin tart.

Skully either didn’t hear him or didn’t care. He had already moved on to decorating cookies, carefully icing tiny skeleton faces onto each one. “Jack’s elegance, his charisma! He’s the epitome of what Halloween should be.”

“Jack this, Jack that...” Grim sighed dramatically. “If I hear that name one more time—”

“I could name the pumpkin Jack,” Skully suggested, completely serious.

“No!” Grim snapped. “Let the pumpkin live its own life! Let it be free!”

You snorted, almost dropping the tray of cupcakes you were setting out. Skully blinked, confused for just a moment, before smiling his usual charming smile. “Ah, Grim, you always know how to liven things up.”

“I’m this close to being a ghost myself,” Grim muttered.

By the time the evening rolled around, Ramshackle Dorm had been transformed into a veritable Halloween haven. Cobwebs draped across the walls, pumpkins lined every surface, and the faint glow of eerie lights filled the air. Skully stood in the center of it all, arms wide open as he surveyed his masterpiece.

“This... this is the Halloween of my dreams,” Skully said softly, his voice full of awe. “I couldn’t have done it without you two.”

Grim gave a halfhearted wave from his spot on the couch, already half-asleep again, but Skully’s gratitude was genuine. You smiled, watching as he twirled around one more time, completely in his element.

“Well,” you said, “if Jack Skellington could see this, I’m sure he’d be impressed.”

Skully’s face lit up like a jack-o’-lantern. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, adjusting a crooked pumpkin. “You’ve done Halloween proud.”

Skully gave a deep bow, flourishing his coat as if he were addressing royalty. “Then, in Jack’s name, I thank you both!”

From the couch, Grim groaned. “I’m gonna need a vacation after this…”

As Skully danced around the room, humming Halloween tunes and praising Jack Skellington, you couldn’t help but smile. Sure, it had been a lot of work, but seeing Skully so happy—and hearing Grim’s constant complaints—made it all worth it.

This was going to be a Halloween to remember.

Masterlist

Also I'd love to add him the the villainess series, but I'll wait till atleast part 2 of the Halloween event to completely understand him before I do!

[suhsweet]

tied up ⟡ hhj

wc: 3058 | pair: hj x afab!reader | genre: established relationship, 18+ (minors go away) | tags: sub!hyunjin, tied down!hyunjin, blindfolded!hyunjin, needy!hyunjin, he's desperate for reader, mirror stuff, he swears like crazy

summary: when you had the brilliant idea of tying hyunjin to a chair, blindfolding him, and driving him insane.

authors note: CONGRATULATIONS TO SKZ FOR ATTENDING THE MET GALA, OT8 IS INSANE <3

Hyunjin was confused when he saw the lone dining chair in the middle of your shared bedroom.

He was also confused when you had him by the wrist, pulling him towards said chair, and had him sit down.

But the moment he saw you pull out the blindfold from your pocket, he instantly knew.

And was instantly hard.

You giggled at the tent in his pants while you secured his arms behind the chair with a knot you had learned online, specifically for this moment.

“Baby,” he whispered breathlessly, the kind of whisper he used when observing his favorite artwork. With awe.

“Relax,” you nipped at his ear before standing before him, admiring a masterpiece of your own.

You were very well aware of your lover’s otherwordly good looks. One would think that the blindfold would mask his beauty. You couldn’t see the siren eyes that always burned with desire when focused on you. Yet, the blindfold only enhanced the bottom half of his perfect face.

Your eyes were drawn to the sharp tip of his nose, which you knew he loved to bury between your legs. To the pillowy lips which you could kiss all day. And to the sharp jaw, which was currently clenched.

“I don’t know where to start,” you sighed with mocking defeat as you observed his body. His lap looked so inviting that you just wanted to ride him already.

Hyunjin could hear the soft padding of your feet circling him. The change of air told him you were nearing, and his body grew warm in anticipation of what was to come. Since he couldn't see you, he was eager to feel your touch.

Where would you touch him first while he was restrained like this? He couldn’t help fidgeting around, but he wasn’t going to try to break out of the restraints.

“Touch me already,” Hyunjin groaned. “Please.”

A hand fisted his hair gently from behind, making him jump. Your other hand slid onto his shoulder to feel the firm muscle under the fabric of his shirt. It slithered towards his collarbone and trailed up to the expanse of his neck. The pads of your fingers softly grazed his Adam’s apple.

Your face buried itself onto the side of his neck, leaving a trail of kisses and nips as you smelt his cologne and body wash. Everything that made him, him. Made him yours.

“You always forget your manners Hyun,” you said.

“You drive me crazy.”

“You make me crazy too.” You kissed his cheek loudly.

The erotic, wet sound so close to his ear made him slump in defeat. With his hair freed from your fingers, his head lolled back limply and his blindfolded gaze looked towards the ceiling. The sight of his lips looking so presentable, like dessert on a plate, stole any restraint from you, and you couldn’t help but kiss his lips this time.

Hyunjin eagerly responded by kissing you back with more force than you had first given him. He nipped, and licked, and sucked at your lips like he was a starved man.

Which, to him, he was.

You eventually caught yourself, and abruptly pulled away. Hyunjin's lips were now swollen, a shade of cherry red. The sheen of your mixed saliva around the border of his lips caught the light as you moved yourself back in front of him.

He cursed softly at your sudden absence with a soft ‘fuck’. It was more to himself, than to you.

You kneeled in between his legs this time and rested your hands on his thighs. You giggled at the sight of Hyunjin’s head immediately tilted towards you as if he had x-ray vision that allowed him to see through the blindfold.

His breathing became more shallow as he barely felt the hint of your lips kissing from the side of his left knee, to his inner thigh, and onto his erection.

Your fingers expertly undid the button and zip of his pants and he was obedient when you had him raise his hips for you to slip them and his boxers off. You gripped his length firmly, not moving, not providing him any ounce of pleasure at all. You were simply holding it upright. You smiled up at him. “So hard for me.”

“All because of you.”

“That’s right baby. Say it again, louder.”

His response came out as a desperate sigh. “Mm, all because of you.”

You teased him by breathing hot air onto the tip, right where he was most sensitive. You pressed another wet kiss, making another of those erotic sounds. “What’s because of me?”

Hyunjin’s brows were furrowed under the blindfold. He was distraught, and desperate at this point. Your teasing was pushing him so close to the brink of insanity that he didn’t have the thought to be embarrassed of his pure desperation anymore.

“You make me so hard! Fuck! I’m so hard because of you. Fucking hard, because of you. So fucking hard. I need you, baby, please, please.”

You smiled, pleased as he continued to babble on.

His reward came in the form of a thick glob of saliva dripping off your tongue and onto the tip of his pretty cock. The sensation of it silenced him immediately, aside from his crazed breathing.

Your lips followed as you started practically making out with the tip of his erection, your saliva dancing in between your lips and his skin. Hyunjin groaned in response, the soft breathless sounds only egged you on.

As you finally brought him into your mouth, you looked up at him and tugged on the blindfold so that it fell around his neck.

He blinked at the sudden change of light, after having his eyes closed for so long. But when his vision cleared, and looked down at the sight of you between his legs, he immediately closed his eyes again.

His eyes fixed themselves on the ceiling as he tried to distract himself, trying to ignore the filthy sounds you made while pleasuring him. He didn’t stop the drawn-out ‘fuuuuuuuck’ that left his pretty lips.

“Don’t look away from me Hyunjin,” you warned him. He immediately brought his attention back onto you, and you could see that it pained him to do so from the way his face screwed up.

“I’m going to cum faster if I do.”

“Why’s that?”

He huffed at your innocent tone as if you were licking a lolly pop and not sucking out his soul. “You look fucking beautiful like this.”

“Good,” you replied. Maintaining eye contact, you slowly took him into your mouth. When your lips finally met the base of his cock, and he was at the back of your throat, you bobbed your throat twice before your gag reflex had you pulling away. He shouted your name sharply at you deep-throating him.

Hyunjin found it so hot that his cock had your eyes watering.

He sighed in relief, thanking whatever deity for giving him a brief break as you stood up and removed your hand. He didn’t want to cum yet, not without feeling your tight pussy wrapped around him.

But he went back to cursing as he watched you strip yourself. You even dared to turn your back towards him and bent over to drag your panties down your soft thighs. It gave him the view of your ass all up in his face. The scent of your pussy had him ready to bust right then and there.

You turned back towards him. Your hands gripped the back of the chair he sat on as you bent down to his level. You both gazed into each other’s eyes deeply. The eagerness, and the desperation in his, tracked your every moment.

He could see that you were enjoying this, taking control for once, and fuck, if he wasn’t enjoying this either. He wanted to be good for you, to make you feel good first and get his release after.

You watched as his gaze followed your lips and rewarded his attention with your kisses. His teeth clashed with yours, as you both drew your fill of each other.

Was anything going to be as addictive as your lips? Hyunjin decided that the answer was no. You sucked on his lips in a way that had his toes curling. Definitely not.

When you pulled away to kiss his cheek, then his jaw, he gave an annoyed groan. You stopped kissing him too soon.

“Baby, ride me already.”

You stopped and levelled him with a look.

“Fuck, please!”

“You forgot your manners again, my love.” You sighed loudly as you brought your legs to rest on either side of his legs and sat down on his lap. You purposely sat away from his cock, positioning yourself closer to his knees.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Hyunjin eyed the distance between your pussy and his arousal.

“You were doing so good until you had to forget one important word,” you pouted in mock disappointment. His chin was gripped in the palm of your hand. You took your time, taking in the view of such beauty so close to you.

His brows drew together as his eyes never left yours. He bit his lips roughly before he started pleading. “Shit, I’m sorry baby. Please ride me. I’ll remember my manners, hmm?”

You smirked cruelly as you started moving your hips on his lap. You barely brushed against his cock as you lifted and lowered your hips repeatedly in place. Your arms roped around his neck, pressing your breasts together.

“Oh Hyunjin,” you moaned despite not feeling any pleasure. The sound of your bare thighs meeting him replicated the sound of him fucking you.

“W-what are you doing?” When he checked, Hyunjin’s cock had become an angry red shade. He desperately wanted to bury it inside of you.

“Riding you. You didn’t specifically say what,” you teased.

“My cock! Please, ride my cock! Baby, I’m seriously going crazy.”

“I think I like you begging,” you smirked in his face as you stopped fake-fucking him.

“I’m begging you to fucking fuck my cock already, please!”

“You remembered to say please,“ you laughed as you finally moved your hips closer to his erection. “Wasn’t so hard, was it it?”

Hyunjin shook his head obediently, he bit his lip as he watched your pussy near his cock.

“Okay, okay,” you giggled. You took the blindfold from his neck and brought it over his eyes once more. You were fixing his hair as he asked about what you were doing.

You kissed his nose. “Just making sure you’ll remember your manners. You don’t deserve to watch your cock slide into this pretty pink pussy just yet.”

“Nooo, please, please, please,” Hyunjin’s plump lips murmured the words like a prayer.

You answered him by lining his arousal with yours, running the tip through your slit to gather the wetness that accumulated while you were busy torturing Hyunjin.

When you felt ready to take him, you finally sheathed him into you. It drew a sweet, breathy moan from your lips and a guttural sound from his chest.

“Fuck, thank you!”

You smiled to yourself, pleased at his thanks. You busied yourself with tugging on his hair and nipping at the flesh of his neck. You knew that he loved it when you tugged at his long strands, and he confirmed it when he moaned louder in response.

It took you everything not to start fucking him like a crazed animal while he was so responsive to everything you did to him. He gasped whenever you licked a thick stripe up his neck, and he shuddered when you circled your hips. He bit his lips as he felt your hands greedily groping his rippled chest, and firm arms.

With both hands pressed into his neck lightly, you made out with him lazily. The sound of wet kisses joined the sounds of your flesh meeting. He hummed with approval, taking anything you’d give him.

Hyunjin was becoming used to being blindfolded. It enhanced his other senses, like the scent of your sweat and perfume, your warm soft hands running all over his body, and the soft sighs of pleasure that came from you.

However, he wanted to see you. Needed to see you.

“Baby, please take the blindfold off,” he moaned.

You didn’t stop riding as you considered his question silently.

Your silence had him speaking again. “I need to see my baby ride my cock, please!”

His answer came in the fabric being ripped off his face, and thrown somewhere behind you roughly. Once his vision returned, he almost busted on the spot. Your chest was right in his face, your perfect tits bouncing.

You gripped his face roughly and turned it towards the full-length mirror that sat against a far wall. Your cheek pressed against his as you made him watch.

The mirror showed the view of the two of you in such a filthy, erotic state. The floor lamp behind you highlighted the silhouette of your joined bodies. Hyunjin’s long, slim legs were stretched out in front of him. Your naked breasts were pressed against his clothed chest rippling like water as you piston yourself onto him.

“Look at that pretty view,” you breathed hard. “Do you like it? Being tied down while a pretty girl uses you however she likes?”

You could see Hyunjin’s eyes rolling to the back of his head at your words, his bottom lip pressed between his teeth to keep animalistic sounds from coming out.

You kept his face firmly in your grip as you hid your face onto his shoulder, biting at the skin. The never-ending slap, slap, slap of your thighs meeting his lap was starting to become a countdown to your climax.

You were so close, and so was he.

“Hyunjin, fuck,” you whined. Now that you could feel your incoming orgasm, you were slowly going back to your needy self. “Answer me. Tell me how good you feel because of me.”

Hyunjin knew that when you were close, his words were what brought you over. Yet in his moment, his mind was so intoxicated by you that he could hardly form a complete sentence. His words came out as a drunken slur. “S’ pretty bouncing on this cock.”

You moaned responsively, tugging harder on his hair.

“Yes pretty girl,” he hissed harshly. He let his dominant words come out. “Fucking use me. S’ cute. So sweet and innocent in public, but you’re using me like a fucking toy when we’re alone. I love it. I want more.”

You rode him harder, faster, ignoring the burn of your thighs. Hyunjin watched in wonder as you threw your head back, revealing the graceful curve of your neck. He wanted to mark it up so badly, but the restraints on his arms kept him in place.

His eyes followed the bead of sweat that rolled from your neck, down to the valley of your breasts where the nipples were pebbled. He closed his eyes, licked his lips and trapped the bottom lip under his teeth; all while throwing his head back. “Fuck.”

“Hyunjin,” you started chanting his name like a prayer. “Gonna cum.”

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” Hyunjin’s head remained thrown back over the back of the chair. He was desperately trying not to cum before you. “I want to fill you up, so cum now.”

You obeyed, giving yourself three thrusts on his cock before your eyes clenched shut and you saw stars. Hyunjin kept on calling you a good girl as you came down from your high. Your lids fluttered open to find Hyunjin gazing up at you with a sweet smile.

You kissed him once and wrapped your arms around his neck in an embrace before starting to ride him once more. “You’ll let me make you cum now, hmm?”

“Please,” Hyunjin sighed. He turned to watch the two of you in the mirror once more. He was mesmerized by how perfectly you fit against him, and watched the way your hips moved to pleasure him.

Just as he was about to cum, his face whipped towards you. He needed to look at you as he came. You looked at him with so much love and desire. All for him. All his.

“Mine,” he whispered. You pressed your forehead to his as you nodded. You kissed him.

“All yours. Cum for me Hyun.”

He nodded, switching from looking at your eyes to your lips until he couldn’t take it anymore. His hips involuntarily started to buck as he began chasing his high. You didn’t stop slamming your pussy down his cock, and even started clenching around him.

He responded to that with a loud, “Yes! I’m cumming!”

As you felt a warm pool inside of you, you slowed your thrusting to milk his arousal. Hyunjin breathed out long, deep breaths whilst you lazily kissed his jaw, murmuring praises into his ear.

The two of you sat there, breathing heavily as you recovered. You sat back and ran your fingers through your hair in an attempt to tame it. Hyunjin watched you with stars in his eyes, and when you caught him, you blushed.

You stood up slowly, wincing softly at the tired muscles in your legs. Hyunjin’s release slowly dripped out of you, and the sight was enough to make him slowly harden once more.

“Let’s get you out of these,” you laughed softly.

Hyunjin shook his head fervently. “If you kept me like this forever, I wouldn’t complain.”

“Maybe later. I’m tired from riding, and need to be buried in your sexy, muscular arms.”

He stretched his arms as soon as they were free. They were slightly sore from being in the same position for so long, but he didn’t have any complaints. When he saw your face mould into concern for his sore arms, he immediately lunged for you, pulling you into his arms.

You shrieked at suddenly being carried bridal style. The bed drew closer in your vision. You were thrown onto it. Hyunjin watched as you fixed yourself on the bed while stripping off his white t-shirt. His body joined yours soon after, and he caged you onto the mattress. You giggled as he brought his face down to yours, kissing you like a crazed man.

[seonghwaddict]

not just a distraction — park seonghwa

in which it’s too easy for the new literature professor to pick a favourite.

literature professor!park seonghwa x fem!reader. genre. fluff, angst. warnings. LEGAL teacher-student relationship, implies age-gap, an argument, suggestive, nickname (baby, angel, doll, princess). wc. 10.4k. rating. pg-13.

lilo’s notes. this is my comeback yessss~ anyways, this is part 1 of 2 because the next part will have some… fun activities >:) i hope you guys enjoy this, i’m sorry for being so inactive for the past month but i have lots for you guys to look forward to! excuse any errors i did not proofread this.

listening to. training wheels, melanie martinez / angel, kali uchis.

masterlist.

the first class of the new literature course at your campus garnered the attention of quite a few of the students from the arts department.

there was, of course, a literature class that existed before that one, though a few students had been unhappy with it since the introduction of more contemporary works. the classic masterpieces, they thought (including you), should not be bunched together with colleen hoover.

with enough pressure, the faculty were able to introduce a new course; classic literature. the few students unhappy with the initial course switched into this course instead, delighted by the fact they were allowed to keep their previous credits. a completely new teacher had been hired too, stirring anticipation. all you knew of him was his name, given in the description of the course when you signed up.

so you found yourself in one of the many lecture halls, around fifty others surrounding you. when you walked in, the new professor was at the long chalk board at the front, looking down at a book in his hand while the other wrote something down. you tried catching a glimpse of him, but his positioning faced him away.

but from what you could see, he was quite slender. his grey slacks, neatly ironed, were secured around his hips by a thin black leather belt. his white button up seemed a little large, though it complimented him well, tucked into his trousers with the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms elegantly—his blazer, a grey matching his slacks, shucked off and placed around the back of the chair at his desk. you could also see his hair was dark, a slight waviness to it, a little longer in the back.

finding the most convenient seat, you chose to sit in the left-most seat on the second row, next to a girl you recognised but couldn’t remember the name of even if you tried.

you catch a glimpse of professor park glancing down at his watch, prompting you to do the same. nine in the morning, on the dot.

“literature,” he starts, underlining the bold word on the chalkboard before turning around. and you nearly choke at the sight of his face.

he’s handsome, almost impossibly so, and a lot younger than all your other professores. dainty glasses sit atop the bridge of his nose, carefully placed strands of his hair framining his face as he begins pacing in front of the seats, making sure to look at each students individually.

“it’s many things, but at its core, it’s all about the manipulation of language. language, simply put, is food, nourishing literature. and so, with the intricacies of the art, literature becomes one of the sweetest passions known to man. because what is it if not love and hatred and disgust and every indescribable feeling thrown into a melting pot of prose.”

his voice is captivating, making you feel just a little lightheaded as you listen to his passion intently, all precise words and confidence as he paces, his hands clasped behind his back. you’re hanging off his every word, watching as he stops by his desk to place down the chalk.

it isn’t after a few moments that you realise you were admiring his hand, how it moves to elegantly. the way his fingers gently curl around the little white stick is almost artistic in itself.

he turns around, resting his hips against the edge of the mahogany desk behind him, legs crossed at his ankles and arms crossed over his chest. his eyes scan the room as he continues speaking, occasionally locking with yours. “is it not poetic? how morphemes, for example, or adjectives or conjunctions are the morsels of literature, small parts that are put together to create meaning? of course, something may be described in one word, but there’s something quite magical about being more metaphorical, more intimate.”

he catches you leaning forward in your chair slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips at how captivated you look before he schools his expression. but his focus is quickly redirected when another student raises his hand.

“yes?” professor park pushes himself off the desk, clasping his hands behind his back.

“professor,” he begins—you recognise him as a jock that calls himself dylan, but you know it’s not his real name and he’s probably here to fulfil a requirement to keep him on the volleyball team—his tone incredulous, “don’t you think all this romanticisation of literature is a bit dramatic? we don’t need fancy words to describe everything.”

professor park arches his eyebrow, a soft huff escaping his nose as he took steps in the direction of dyland’s seat. “dramatic? perhaps,” he nodded, eyes fixed on him, “however, as a literature professor, i enjoy the romanticisation of it. my job is to introduce others to the passion that is literature, and therefore i will romanticise it all i wish… what is your name?”

“it’s, uh, dylan?”

his eyebrow quirked once more as he gave the jock a once over, evaluating him. “i see… well, dylan, have you ever felt the rush of emotion when reading something truly spectacular? have you ever read a sentence and felt it like a punch in your chest or a sudden breath of fresh air?”

dylan’s opens his mouth to respond before he is interrupted with a raise if professor park’s palm. “think before you answer, please.”

you nearly laughed at his baffled look, never having seen him so silent, pondering the question for a moment before answering. “well, yes i have.” he answers honestly, earning a nod of approval.

“describe that feeling for me. can you find the correct words to explain the way you felt in that moment?”

dylan tries to explain it the best he can, but your teacher only shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “close, but no. see, it’s difficult putting into words such strong emotions no matter how many synonyms of ‘joyful’ you use.”

he turns away from him to address the rest of the class. “and that is the beauty of literature—it can be used to describe the most indescribable feeling, stringing together individually meaningless words to create something so much more.”

you smile at that, enjoying the link he made. your eyes meet for another moment, a split second that made heat rise to your cheeks under his perceptive gaze. but you blink and his pretty brown eyes are gone.

he takes a moment’s pause, glancing over at the clock in the room before finally addressing the rest of the class again. “i want an assignment from each of you by next class that demonstrates the true beauty of the language we know. it can be anything you feel like writing. a short story, a narrative, an essay, a poem,” his eyes flick over to land on you once again, “i want to see the feeling you want to convey in this written form. and i don’t just mean the happy feelings—get raw and descriptive. write something from the heart.”

the class is dismissed and you pack up your things, heading out but not before trying to catch another glimpse of him in the moving horde of students.

though you hadn’t noticed it, throughout the lecture his eyes lingered on you as well. of course, there were so many students for him to focus on, but none of them seemed quite as captivated as you. judging by the evident fascination on your face as he spoke, he knew you understood every word he said. unlike dylan, apparently.

the next class is on friday, four days away. you take that time or write the assignment. instead of writing a story or a poem, you decide on writing an essay. something where you can really write without the constraints of sticking to a plot. when you’re not in any of your other classes, you’re at your shared house, writing. and if your roommate is being too loud, you take the short bike ride to campus, sitting in your usual corner in the library, also writing.

by the time friday comes around, it’s ready and you’re happy with it, confident in your works as you walk into the lecture hall between some other students. you follow them as they stop at his desk, placing their papers on a stack of other turned in assignments, following suit before sitting at the same seat as last time; far left, second row. this time there’s more people sat at the front, whispering and giggling as they gaze at the professor.

he’s sat at his desk, a similar suit to last like on except a beige colour. his glasses are off and placed on the wooden desk, a book partially obscuring his face as he reads and waits for it to be nine on the dot.

he can vaguely hear the students talking amongst themselves as he reads, but he doesn’t pay it too much mind. it was normal. a lot of his students found him attractive, and that was clear just by the way they talked while he was around. after a while, he glances up at the time, noting it was almost time for class to begin.

he closes his book, setting it off to the side before standing up behind the desk. his hands clasp behind his back.

he glances around the room as more students trickle in and take their seats. he notices you at the second row almost immediately, and he can’t help the small smile that crosses his face. he lets his eyes roam over you for a second before he looks away, noticing the other students chattering in their seats. he clears his throat, loud enough to make them stop and look at him.

“good morning, class.” he says loudly, glancing around once more before resuming, “i’ll be looking over your assignments after class, but for today i’d alike to talk about some literary devices. i know this is classic literature and you’re all expecting to be reading classics, but some groundwork should be set before we jump into analyses. for example, can anyone tell me what a hyperbole is? any guesses?”

he scans the room, as if challenging one of the students to answer. the students in the class are quiet, no one wanting to take the challenge. he hums after a couple minutes and walks around to the front of the desk to lean against the edge of it.

“no one? how about you,” he suddenly says, nodding to you.

you blink, taken aback by the fact he chose you in the sea of fifty-something students. after clearing your throat, you simply say, “an exaggeration, sir.”

he gives a small nod of approval, a smile accompanying it. he expected you to know it, one of the most basic terms in the subject, but could he really be blamed if he just wanted to hear your lovely voice?

“that’s correct. a hyperbole is an exaggeration. it’s also a useful tool in literature to convey specific emotions. i’m sure you’ve come across sentences such as... ‘i could kill him’ or ‘i can’t believe it. this assignment was a literal death sentence.’” he adds the last part in a joking manner, and the few students in the room who were paying attention let out a quiet bout of snickers. he gives you one last small smile before moving on.

he spends the rest of the lesson talking about all sorts of techniques used to enhance literature and the effects they have on the readers. sibilance creates a smooth flow and double entendres are often used to amuse the reader.

nearing the end of the class, he instructs everyone to start on their reading of “the picture of dorian gray” by oscar wilde while he starts going through the turned in assignments. you pull out the book, having borrowed it from the library the other day. you’ve read it before, but it was entertaining enough for you to be willing to read it again, leaning back in your seat comfortably as you flip to the first page.

professor park gets through the first couple of assignments, grading them and adding comments here and there. he finds your essay on the third assignment, and glances up to look at you sitting at your seat, reading so serenely. he takes the time to look you over for a moment before his focus turns to your paper in his hand. he can’t help the slight curiosity as to what you have written, so he begins reading.

he can tell from the quality of the writing alone what kind of writer you were. not like the others, you weren’t rushing with each sentence. no, each word was well thought out, each word placed delicately in the paragraph. it was obvious you had taken the time to write it, and it was obvious that you enjoyed writing even before he finishes reading the introduction. there is passion in the way you laid out your paragraphs. the way it seems so effortless for such words to spill onto your pages.

he finds himself rereading some of the sentences and paragraphs, just to see the way you had worded things. the way you describe how literature can make a person feel could be compared to a piece of art itself. a smile tugs at his lips as he finished reading, having become completely entranced in what you had written. he wanted more, he wanted to read even more of your writing, see more of your passion, more of you. he had expected to have to read through mindless writing but instead he had been surprised by something actually worthwhile.

at the end, he writes a decently-sized comment, a perfect grade circled in his black ink right below.

as he dismisses the class, it takes you a moment to register his words and the people filing out of the hall around you. but once you do, you fold over the corner of the page you’re on and start packing away your items.

as the class is now empty, the only person left in the room besides himself is you. he watches from behind the desk as you pack up your things, noticing the slight hesitation in your movements when you glance towards him. he takes a moment to just watch you before speaking up, his voice firm and clear.

“stay a moment, if you don’t mind.”

you glance up at him before looking around, making sure he was speaking to you before you nod, taking the steps down from the second row to the first, standing at the end of the seats expectantly.

he picks up something from his desk before making his way over to you, his long legs carrying him effortlessly.

he studies your face for a moment, holding up the stapled stack of papers that were your essay. he takes in your features as he speaks, his tone softer now that you’re alone, “you enjoy literature, i take it?”

you glance at the papers before meeting his eyes again, heat rising to your face at the realisation that his full attention was on you. that he was standing so close, just a step away, looking down at you ever so slightly. you give him a nod.

he hums softly in acknowledgement, his eyes looking at your face curiously. he can see the flush of your cheeks clearly, the way you’re keeping your gaze averted from his for the most part.

he glances down at the paper in his hand, tapping it against his fingers gently before looking back at you.

“your assignment. i read it,” he starts, flipping through the pages absentmindedly to keep him from staring at you too long, “it’s quite well written, and i can see the care you put into the language of it. i enjoyed reading it.”

he watches as your eyes queen ever so slightly, a certain sparkle that does not go unnoticed by him; can see the gears turning in your head as you take in his words, your face growing to an endearing mix of shy and embarrassed. he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what he was feeling, couldn’t describe it in any way other than a bloom of warmth in his chest, akin to familiarity.

“oh, thank you, sir.” you smile at him lightly, having been worried you were in trouble and about to be in the receiving end of his scolding.

he hums again, still looking at your face. he can’t help the slight grin that forms on his face as he hears you call him ‘sir.’ he liked the sound of it coming from you. he glances down at the paper again before speaking again, holding the stack out to you.

“i should be thanking you, really. you seem to be the only one to have put some effort into it,” he gave you a soft smile before nodding towards the door, “you may go now, i’ll see you next class.”

you smile and nod, giving him a slight bow before straightening up again. “have a nice day, sir.” and with that you leave, making a beeline to leave campus since you didn’t have anything else to do for the day.

the next time you see him is on monday, in class. he teaches as usual, introducing some context for the book you’re all supposed to be reading. he doesn’t talk to you during the class, though occasionally his eyes find yours and you can’t help but think they soften ever so slightly.

soon enough, you pick up on the fact that you have a similar routine on wednesday evenings. usually, you stay in the campus library for a little longer on those days, whether it’s to read or to work. you like it then because there’s usually barely anyone there, the library big enough for the students that are there to disperse out of each other’s views.

you notice him on your way in, talking to the librarian with a stack of three or four books on the counter. but sometimes you’d see him at a table or couch, or browsing through the shelves. and each time you smile at the sight of him before making your way straight to the second floor, ducking between some bookshelves on the far end to sit in your usual seat.

this may be your favourite spot on campus, maybe the whole city. a little sofa tucked against a big window, two bookshelves—historical fiction—on either side hiding you from the prying eyes of your peers. at this time, the sunlight is just right, a copper glow feeding the two little plants on the windowsill and providing a warmth that felt like a blanket on a cold winter day. it wasn’t too bright, able to look outside without squinting your eyes, enough light to read comfortably. there’s also a little round table that you use to place your laptop on if you need to work, though often you push it aside, favouring to relax on the plush sofa against the soft pillow and get lost in the pages of whatever book you got your hands on.

he’s noticed you there before, on his way to pick up a book from the bibliography section, right next to the historical fiction section where you resided. he soon comes to notice your form among the bookshelves that he passes by, doing a double take before he forces himself to continue along his way. when he finishes the bibliography exactly a week later, he offers to bring it back to its previous spot; in reality, he just wanted to see whether or not you’d be there again.

and sure enough, you were. and he slows down in his movements, looking at the way you’re curled up comfortably in the sofa.

he finds himself watching you silently from a distance for a while, just watching you flip to the next page in your book as you lay comfortably against the pillow, to absorbed in the story to notice him. you look completely at ease there, he finds himself thinking. the sunlight from the window seems to caress your features softly, and a part of him wondered what it would be like to be the sunlight for once, to touch your skin so softly and admire the details of it.

he watches you for a while, taking in your expressions as you turn the pages, before deciding to make his presence known. he takes a step, his leather shoes clunking against the polished wooden floors, “mind if i join you?”

your eyes dart up at the sound of his voice, flinching as you were caught off guard. once his words process, you offer him a smile, nodding as you retract your feet from the sofa to make some space for him. “yeah, of course, professor.”

he smiles warmly at your reply, settling into the newly available space on the sofa. now sitting, he realizes just how small the space is. it’s a two seater, so he ends up sitting very close to you, his side pressed right up to the armrest to prevent from being pressed against you. he glances at your face, noting the small reaction you had when you weren’t expecting him to approach. cute.

he leans back a little to get comfortable on the sofa. it’s quiet between them for a moment, both of them looking outside or at their books. the silence isn’t awkward, he finds. in fact, he quite enjoyed it in such proximity to you. he turns his gaze to watch your face, studying you; the curve of your nose, your lips that are pulled into a frown ever so slightly as you concentrate. his gaze then flicks down, to your sweatpants-clad legs tucked under you on the sofa, and lower to the hand holding the book.

you sit together in silence for a while, reading your respective books. you can’t stop yourself from glancing up at him occasionally, however, just wanting to catch a glimpse of his soft hair or perfect plump lips or the slope of his neck.

but when the sun go too low and the lights too dim and you could barely keep your eyes open, you let out a soft yawn, stretching. he glances up, opening his mouth to say something before his throat suddenly feel to dry to produce any words, distracted by the arch of your back and the curves of your hips. you look so inviting.

“tired?” he manages to force out with a slight chuckle, watching you slump back into your seat. he has the urge to brush away the stray hairs that fall over your cheeks.

you glance at him, nodding as you pull yourself off the couch for one last stretch before gathering your stuff and facing him. “i should probably head home,” you mutter.

“alright,” he pushes himself off the couch, closing his book, “i’ll walk you out.”

too tired to argue and insist he didn’t have to, you just nod, turning on your heels to walk out of the shelves, waiting at the end for him. the walk is silent, holding your breath and heart thumping in your chest each time his fingers brush against the back of your hand as you walk side by side.

this became a new routine. every wednesday, you’d find him or he’d find you, sitting in the little brown leather couch. and you’d stay there together for a while, talking or laughing or working or reading. there was no longer an awkward space separating the two of you, happily resting against each other, far from worried that anyone would see.

neither of you mentioned it, but it was the elephant in the room. you didn’t know what to call it, whatever was happening between you. but it felt good, it made you want to cling to his shirt and bury your face into the warm curve of his neck and never let go. but you couldn’t, no matter how much either of you wanted to.

and as the lines between professor and student blurred, you found yourself looking forward to your wednesdays with him.

and so did he. still, he often thought about how he behaved around you, like it was a secret meant for him and you and you and him.

the way he would find himself sitting closer and closer to you. the way he’d find his gaze lingering on you for too long. the way his mind would wander on how it would feel to run his fingers through your hair, trails them along your thighs. oh, how badly he wants to feel your skin against his own. the idea of what he was doing was dangerous, foolish for someone of his position.

but it’s hard to care when you’re right there next to him, in the soft light that makes your skin glow, your face relaxed and content as you read beside him.

one particular friday evening, it’s pouring, and you’re standing outside under where the roof of the humanities building entrance protruded, protecting me from the rain. this morning you had decided to walk to school instead taking the bike, though you suppose it wouldn’t have been much better with a bike.

your shoes are already wet from the puddle you had accidentally stepped into on your way out, your clothes soaked from having walked into the rain for a minutes as you hug your messenger bag close to your chest.

he’s on his way to his car when he spots you standing by the doorway, and he frowns as he notices you, soaked from the rain that pours mercilessly. he glances around, noticing the lack of anyone nearby thanks to the weather, before making his way towards you.

he stops a few steps in front of you, opening his umbrella to block the rain above both of you. "what are you doing standing out in the rain?"

“i walked to school this morning,” you look from him to the pouring rain, just a step away, “didn’t check the weather.”

he takes you in for a moment, taking in the way your clothes are sticking to you, your hair slightly damp. a small part of him found it quite adorable to see you like this.

"you’re soaked," he says, his voice firm and concerned, "you’re going to get sick like this." as if on cue, a shiver racks through your body. he notices, his expression softening as he takes a step closer, offering his free hand. “come on, i’ll drive you home.”

“oh, you really don’t have to,” you smile at him, grateful at his offer, worried about getting his car wet with your clothes, “i can just wait here until the rain stops.”

his eyes narrow slightly, taking your wrist lightly. "don’t be ridiculous," he scolds, "you’ll freeze to death if i leave you here."

you blink at him, not used to being on the receiving end of his firm tone. his concern making the corners of your lips tug up, you sighed softly, nodding, “alright, lead the way.”

a small smirk pulls at his lips as he watches you relent, giving in to his words. he steps to your side, releasing your wrist and putting a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the parking lot.

he pulls a tissue from his pocket, unfolding it and using it to gently pat your face. you giggle softly at his attempts to dry your face, reaching one of your hands up to take the handkerchief, your fingers brushing against each other before you dry your face yourself, your other hand helping him hold the umbrella in the strong wind, hand a little lower than his on the handle.

he looks at you with a small smile as his hand rests on the umbrella’s handle, moving to cover yours. his hand is a little bigger and warmer than yours. but as he guides you further towards the parking lot, he notices you shivering again, the cold air starting to get to you.

"if you get a cold, it’s your fault." he teases slightly, pulling you closer to his side, making you stumble a little before you regain your footing.

“oh no, i won’t be able to attend your 9 am lecture on monday, whatever will i do?” you gasp dramatically, holding back a laugh as you joke around, instinctively glancing around in case anyone saw. but everyone was gone, rushing home in the midst of the downpour.

he lets out a low laugh at your dramatic response, rolling his eyes playfully at you.

"stop that," he chastises, his hand on your waist keeping you from falling. it was hard to miss the nervous looks your threw around, and he knew exactly why.

“hm?” you glance up at him as he stops in front of what you assume is his car. it’s a black mercedes, sleek and modern. you clasp your hands behind your back, tilting your head, “no idea what you’re talking about.”

he pushes open the passenger door of his car, gesturing for you to get in. he shakes his head slightly with a scoff, his gaze raking down your figure for just a moment.

“sure you don’t,” he says in a slightly teasing tone, “just get in the car, angel.”

you blush lightly at the nickname but shake your thoughts away, looking down at the leather passengers seat before looking up at him again “but i’ll get your seat wet and mess it up.”

it takes him a moment to process your words, distracted by how the flush of your cheeks makes you look even lovelier. the thought that he was able to make you blush like that because of a simple nickname makes him bite back a giddy smile.

he shakes his head. “i’ll take my chances. just get in, you’re shivering.”

you don’t move for a moment, weighing your options; get his seat a little wet, or walk in the rain. deciding the former is obviously the better choice, you thank him silently as you slip into the passenger seat, securing your seatbelt after resting your bag in your lap

he shuts the door behind you and circles the car, walking to the driver’s side. his steps are a little rushed, eager to get out of the rain and into the warmth of the car.

he gets in the car, pulling the door shut behind him before he looks over at you. you sit quietly, your head down and hands in your lap.

it’s silent for a brief moment before he speaks up. “i’m gonna need your address, you know.”

“oh, right.” you hum, leaning forward to the screen on the dashboard to type in your address. it takes some effort, your muscles mostly focused on your legs as you try not to seat my full weight in an attempt to not ruin his seat despite what he said earlier.

he says absolutely nothing, his gaze glued to the arch of your back. he swallows hard, clenching his jaw as he keeps his eyes trained on you, fighting the urge to reach a hand and touch you.

he clears his throat, “just lean back into the seat.”

before you can protest, he’s pushing down on your thigh until you’re fully seated. you give him a playful glare as you finish typing the address. it’s just over a five-minute drive, while walking in this weather would’ve taken you nearly twenty.

he looks at you with a chuckle, his hand still on your thigh, giving it a slight squeeze.

“now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he jokes, giving your thigh a tap before pulling his hand away, turning the ignition on and pulling out of the parking space.

the drive to your place is quiet except for the sound of the rain outside. he has the heat on full blast to keep you warm. every now and then he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

the heat makes you shudder, holding your fingers up to the air to warm them up a bit.

he can’t help as his mind thinks of how cute you look, all bundled up with your bag in your lap. and the urge to touch you, god, the urge to run his fingers through your hair.

“we’re almost there, don’t worry,” he mutters as he tears his gaze away from you.

“hey, um,” you start after a few moments of silence, glancing at him, “if you want, you can come up and we could have some coffee or tea or something together. if my roommate doesn’t mind, which she probably won’t, she’s really nice so i wouldn’t worry. but you don’t have to if you don’t want to! i just, uh, wanna thank you properly… for this.”

he watches with a fond smile as you ramble, stopping at a red light. he’s about to accept the offer, tell you that he’d love to, but the realisation of your roommate being there changes things, his expression turning solemn.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea…” he mumbles, avoiding your piercing eyes.

your brows furrow ever so slightly, a frown threatening to override your features. “why not?”

he swallows, pulling over in front of the address you had typed into the gps.

“i’m your professor,” he starts, his tone firm, “it would be unprofessional if we’re caught.”

he hopes you can’t notice the way he’s gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary.

“that hasn’t stopped you so far, though,” you muse, chuckling lightly despite your confusion of his suddenly change in sentiments, trying to ease the tension.

“but don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious that we’ve been sitting together in the library every week, completely hidden away?” he mutters, “if someone saw us, someone who didn’t know, it would look bad. this could be worse.”

“i thought you liked being there with me…” his words get to you this time, actually frowning as you turn to look out the window instead of at him, noticing you were in front of your house.

shit.

he mentally berates himself upon noticing the slight change in your expression, realizing with a pang of guilt that his words bothered you, having come out the wrong way.

“oh, angel,” he starts, letting go of the steering wheel. his hand reaches for you, and before he can stop himself, it’s cradling your face.

“i do. i like being with you there,” he sighs, gently pulling your face to make you look at him, his thumb caressing your cheek. “you have no idea how much i enjoy it.”

his touch on your face feels warm, and his words even warmer as his directs you to look at him. you don’t say anything.

he’s not used to this, to you being quiet and still. he’s too used to your carefree self being full of jokes and laughter. he doesn’t like you like this, looking at him with disappointment written on your face.

“what i meant is,” he murmurs, the pad of his thumb moving across your cheek to your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes meet his, “i’m just worried about your roommate.”

“i like spending time with you, princess,” he continues, his tone firmer this time, “i like it a lot, alright?”

your frown eases at his words, nodding as you answer in a whisper, “okay.”

he lets out a small sigh of relief, his fingers tracing down from your chin to the side of your neck, and then your collarbone. he gently caresses your skin with the lightest of touch, letting the pad of his fingertip graze your skin.

he tries to ignore the voice in the back of his mind telling him to tug you across the console and kiss you. he shouldn’t.

he shakes himself out of his thoughts, pulling his hand away reluctantly. glancing out the window, he sees your place right in front of him.

“we’re here,” he murmurs, looking back at you. his gaze softens when he sees the remnants of the frown still on your face, and his hand gently reaches out to give your thigh a light squeeze.

“come on,” he says quietly, “let’s go.”

you look out the window before nodding, unbuckling and stepping out, walking to your front door as he accompanies you with an umbrella. you rummage around in your bag, trying to find the keys. groaning as you realise you were in such a rush this morning you must’ve forgotten them in the bowl where you and your roommate place your keys so you don’t lose them. with a sigh, you ring the doorbell, waiting for her to answer.

but she never comes. and that’s when you realise she had the late shift at work today. you groan, frustrated as you thump your forehead against the wooden door.

great, he thinks to himself as he watches you struggle trying to get inside. and then you turn around, with a frustrated sigh, and a thump of the door.

he can’t help but feel like the world is against him. the universe wants to punish him, to test his limits.

he bites the inside of his cheek, watching you and listening to you as you mutter about your locked door.

“i don’t have my keys, my roommate isn’t home,” you explain, kicking the door light before burying your face in your hands, your voice a little muffled, “oh, i’m so sorry, hwa.”

he stands there, watching you explain your situation, and he fights back a smile at your last sentence.

hwa*.*

he likes it when you call him that. spending three months growing closer, you’ve evidently given each other little nicknames.

he glances over at the parked car behind him, before back at you. “do you need a place to stay?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral again.

“i don’t wanna bother you too much,” you shake your head, running your hands over your face “please, i can just wait here for her to get back.”

he doesn’t like how you’re trying to push him away. frowning, watching you as you shake your head and run your hands over your face in defeat. he closes the distance between you, taking hold of your wrists and pulling your hand away from your face gently.

“it’s pouring,” he reminds you, “your clothes are soaking wet. and you think you can just sit here on the front porch until your roommate comes back?”

“i don’t want to inconvenience you any more,” you murmur, your hands relaxing as he pulls your wrists away from your face.

his chest tightens at your words, at how stubborn you’re being. he sighs.

“you’re not inconveniencing me,” he insists, “i’d feel better knowing you’re inside with dry clothes and a warm drink than out here soaked to the bone.”

you contemplate his offer for a moment before sighing, nodding, “okay, if you insist.”

his heart nearly skips a beat at your agreement, and it takes all his willpower not to visibly show the relief that washes over him.

he tightens his hold on your wrist for a moment, before gently guiding you back to his car. he opens the passenger door for you, waiting until you get in before he shuts the door and circles around to the driver’s side.

he starts the ignition again, the warm air blasting through the vents yet again. you hold your hands in front of the hot air again, glancing over as you hear his door open and close as he slips. “in is it a long drive?”

he lets out a scoff, looking over to you with a teasing smile. “it’s a whole two minute drive. i’ll try not to bore you too much.”

he turns back to the window, pulling out of the parking spot. the rain starts again, and the sound of it pounds against window before he turns on the wipers.

“oh dear me, i can already feel myself falling asleep,” you slump your head back and pretend to snore, back to being playful.

he turns to look at you, watching your dramatics with a fond grin. “shut up, you,” he says, reaching out to pinch your side gently.

you giggle as he pinches your side, opening your eyes again to look out the window, watching buildings and cars glide past as he drives smoothly. true to his word, just a few minutes later he’s pulling into the underground parking lot of an apartment building.

he parks in front of a spot numbered ‘407’, cutting the ignition as soon as he does.

he glances at you briefly before nodding almost to himself.

“come on,” he says with a jerk of his chin, gesturing for you to follow as he gets out of the car.

his longer strides have him walking faster than usual, and it takes him a conscious effort to slow down for you to keep up.

he presses the ‘up’ button and the elevator doors part within seconds. he steps into the elevator, holding the door open for you to enter.

it’s a silent ride up. his mind is racing, though he doesn’t show it outwardly. his hands are in his pocket, and he keeps his eyes trained on the blinking numbers signifying each floor.

the elevator dings and the doors open and he steps out without looking back to see if you’re following, striding down the hallway, making a turn to a door marked ‘407’.

he fishes for his keys in his pocket, pulling them out before unlocking and opening the door as you look around the empty hallway, your gaze lingering on the mass-produced paintings hanging on the wall that he knows can be seen on every other floor of this building.

the apartment is spacious, with plenty of open floor space for the front room. the color scheme is simple and neat, with a large armchair and a small couch that sits in front of a flat screen tv, as well as a wooden coffee table.

he steps in, taking a moment to kick his shoes off and set his stuff down. he looks over his shoulder, watching you step into the apartment as he places his umbrella in the umbrella rack and hangs up his coat.

you grimace as your shoes squelch when you step in, muttering apologies as you take them off and leave them outside of the door in the hallway instead, not wanting to mess up his flooring.

he raises an eyebrow, watching you as you leave your wet shoes in the hall. he’s about to say something when he’s interrupted by the sound of a small meow.

a ball of black fur appears at his feet, nuzzling against his ankle, and he smiles, scooping the cat into his arms without a word.

he scratches behind the cat's ears as it purrs in his arms, the sound of its soft mews filling the room. he can see a hint of confusion on your face, watching the cat with interest as he holds it, its front paws resting on his chest.

"his name is kuma," he explains, bringing the cat up to his face and letting it rub against his cheek.

you nearly melt at the sight, stepping into the house with wet socks as you coo at the cat, the front door falling shut behind you automatically. “i didn’t know you have a cat.”

he has to physically stop himself from grinning as you nearly swoon at the sight of his cat, covering up his smile with a cough. he shakes his head, lowering the cat gently to the floor. it runs over in your direction, nuzzling against your ankles much like it did to him moments ago, before disappearing down the hallway into the heart of the apartment.

"i got him a couple months back," he says, taking in the sight of your soaked clothes once more. he lets out a sigh, tilting his head toward the hall.

he glances down at your feet, eyeing your soaked socks, before looking back up to your face.

"you can shower if you'd like. I can lend you some clothes to change into," he says, pointing down the hall toward the bedroom.

“oh, yes please,” you nod, relieved that he offered instead of you having to ask.

he nods and starts down the hallway, motioning for you to follow him. as you follow, you look around. just like his car, the design of his apartment is sleek and modern, glowing in warmth as he uses a variety of floor lamps and shelf lamps to light up the interior instead of headache-inducing overhead lights. the furniture and walls are light in colour, a variety of whites and beiges.

it’s an open floor plan, the kitchen and living grouped together, separated by a counter island and some stools. the countertops of the kitchen have a glossy white finish, everything clean. a narrow hallway leads to some three doors, which you assume are his bedroom, a bathroom, and guest bedroom or office.

he stops first in front of a door, where the cat lies on the floor, tail flicking back and forth. he bends down to pet the cat briefly.

"that's the bathroom. the towels are in there. I'm just going to grab some clothes for you," he says, giving you a quick glance before striding away toward the bedroom.

your eyes follow him as he walks away, before letting out a soft yelp at the feeling of something furry wrapping around your ankle. looking down, you realise it’s kuma, giggling as you crouch down to pet him.

he returns a few moments later, taking a moment to watch as you play with his cat so nicely before clearing his throat, making you stand back up as he hands you the stack of clothes.

“feel free to use whatever you need in there,” he nods towards the bathroom door, “you can leave your clothes in the basket, i’ll put them in the laundry later.”

“thank you, hwa.” you grin at him, accepting the clothing before disappearing into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

you shower with warm water, relaxing every muscle in your body as you wash off the rain. without any other choices, you’re left to use his shampoo. it smells of him, a deep vanilla. when you finish, you dry off and change into the clothes he brought, using your own previous undergarments as he obviously didn’t have those on hand.

the clothes are quite large on you, hanging off your body as you tighten the string of the sweatpants. you pat your hair partially dry with the towel before tossing everything in the laundry basket, stepping out to go to the living room.

only to see he wasn’t there. shrugging, you figure he’ll return soon as you flop onto the couch, kuma coming to sit with you after a moment. you sprawl out a bit as you realise just how spacious the couch is, the cat padding all over your body, playing with the drawstrings of the hoodie he gave you before curling up on your stomach.

meanwhile, he’s in the shower of his bedroom’s en-suite bathroom attempting to get himself together, both physically and mentally. the water feels amazing on his skin as it beats down on him, and he tries to relax his muscles as he lathers shampoo in his hair.

but his mind keeps going back to you, and how you’re probably already in his living room.

wearing his clothes.

he sighs, leaning his head against the shower wall as he tries to push those thoughts out of his mind. he stands there for what feels like hours, letting the hot water hit his skin before shutting off the shower and stepping out. he dries himself off, quickly drying his hair enough so that it’s not dripping all over his floor before he getting in record time, pulling on an old pair of sweats and a loose black shirt.

he takes another deep breath, opening the bathroom door as he ruffles his damp hair. he starts to make his way toward the living room, hoping that you’re just as nervous as he is.

he turns the corner and enters the living room, nearly freezing in his place at the sight of you sitting on the couch with kuma. you look good. comfortable.

by the time he makes it back, you’d be kuma are no longer sitting calmly, practically rolling around on the couch as you try to get away from the playful punches of his paws. he feels his heart flutter at the sight and the sound of your laughter.

there’s just something about seeing you getting along with his cat that makes his heart nearly skip a beat. he silently watches from the hall for a moment, just gazing at the two of you playing together before clearing his throat to make his presence known.

you look up at the sound, grinning at him stupidly. you glance at his clothes, noting that he’s wearing comfortable clothes now rather than his usual suits. “oh, hey,” you say between giggles as kuma continues to jump all over you.

his heart stutters at the sight of your grins and the sound of your giggles, at the joyful look on your face. he swallows, forcing his arms to cross over his chest to keep himself from reaching out and pulling you against him.

trying to appear nonchalant even though he’s having a hard time doing so, he walks over to the couch, standing at the end of the coffee table and looking down at you.

“seems like you’re having fun together,” he remarks with a slight nod towards kuma.

“uh huh,” you nod before squealing, covering your face as kuma’s paws swat against your cheek, attacking you, your stomach hurting from laughing.

he lets out a scoff, watching kuma pawing at you and your failed attempts to shield your face from the attacks. he can’t help but let a small smile settle on his face, his heart fluttering again at the sight of you two.

“he’s playing rough,” he comments with a smile, walking to the couch and plopping down beside you.

you crawl over to his other side, hiding your face under his arms as kuma chases, “help me, hwa.”

his heart skips a beat as you hide under his arm, ducking away from the harmless kitten. he can’t help but laugh, finding the situation both endearing and adorable.

“I think you can handle kuma, doll,” he teases, grinning down at you as you continue to use him as a human shield.

“he’s a beast,” you try to sound serious, your voice muffled against his sleeve as kuma starts attacking him instead.

“he’s not that bad,” he teases, grabbing the cat by his little body and lifting him up in front of his face, “see? look at this face. he’s not even one bit menacing.”

“that’s the face of evil!” you exclaim, sitting up and placing the back of your hand on your forehead to fall into his lap dramatically, feigning death, my body draped over his thighs faced down.

he looks down at you as you go limp against him, and he can’t help but laugh at your antics.

“don’t be so dramatic,” he grins. he lets kuma go, watching as he climbs down your combined bodies to muzzle against your cheek before moving away to curl up in his usual spot in the corner of the couch. “i think he’s gonna end up liking you more than me.”

“good,” you hum, closing your eyes and relaxing in his lap, forearm under your chin so it doesn’t dig into his legs.

he rolls his eyes jokingly, resting his hand on your back and tracing down your spine, “very funny.”

you chuckle at his response, sighing softly, content where you are. in the privacy of his home, you’re not scared of being affectionate, especially not as his hand traces down to rest against the small of your back, eliciting a faint shudder.

his heart hammers in his chest as his hand trails further down to the back of your thigh, the feeling of your plump flesh beneath the fabric, under his touch igniting something in him. he has to remind himself to breathe, trying to control the rush of blood that is steadily flowing downward.

enjoying the feeling of his hand kneading the back of your thigh, you go a little silent before turning to look up at him, a question that’s been balancing on the top of my tongue for three months finally spilling out.

“hwa… what exactly are we? what is this?” you point between the two of you as you mutter the question.

his hand freezes the second he hears it. he’s been avoiding that question since the two of your really started seeing each other every wednesday months ago, but he knows he can’t anymore. not when it’s thrown straight at his face.

he takes a deep breath, avoiding your gaze for a moment. he lets the silence sit for a few more seconds as he considers his answer, then looks down at you.

“i don’t know,” he mutters, his hand moving to rest on your waist, “i’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

“well, what is this to you then?” you ask softly, sitting up to be eye level with him, kneeling beside him.

the question sounds more demanding coming from you face to face, eye to eye, and his heart is beating fast enough that he fears you can hear it. he swallows, looking into your eyes.

“a distraction,” he mutters, his gaze flitting to your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes, preparing his next words.

but before he can continue, you visibly deflate at his answer, sitting back as i nod. a distraction. “i see,” you tear your gaze away from him, getting up, making his hand drop from you, “i’m gonna go to bed, wheres the guest room?”

he feels his heart twist at the sight of you leaving his touch, a dejected look on your face.

he’s never seen you back off so quickly before. not like this. he watches you get up and stand over him, a step too far for him to reach for you agajn, his heart tightening in his chest.

“wait, doll-“ he starts, reaching out to take your hand.

“what? you said what you said.”

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, his tone firmer. he stands up from the couch, towering over you. he holds a hand out to you. “come here, please.”

“then how else could you possibly mean it,” you scoff lightly, eying his hand but not taking it.

“listen, doll,” he mutters, holding back a huff of frustration. “you can’t seriously think that I would call this a distraction,” he gestures between the two of you. “a distraction. you really think that you are just a distraction to me?”

“well is that not what you said?” you mutter, trying to prevent your lips from trembling as a lump latches itself onto your throat.

he lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. he reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him. he can feel the tension in your body, and he hates it. he hates himself for causing it.

“you didn’t let me finish. i didn’t mean it like that,” he mutters, looking directly into your eyes, resting your hands in his chest. “you’re not just some random, meaningless distraction to me.”

your fingers flex slightly as he holds them up to his chest, right over his heart, “then tell me how you really feel about me if i’m not a distraction”

he looks into your eyes, holding onto your wrists firmly but gently, his thumbs rubbing against your skin, the inside of your wrists.

he’s never seen you like this before. this vulnerable and open in front of him. he can feel the tension in your body, the stiffness in your shoulders and the tightness in your jaw.

he wants to smooth out those frowning lines on your face, erase that look of uncertainty in your eyes.

“you’re more than just a distraction to me,” he mutters. “you’re an obsession. you’re all i think about, doll. i think about you constantly. i don’t know how else to describe it other than an obsession,” he continues, his voice getting softer as he speaks. “i can’t shake you. you’ve gotten in my head and you’ve been living in there rent free for months and you refuse to get out. even when i try to ignore you,” he lets out a scoff, looking into your eyes, “even when i pretend to ignore you, you’re still there. you don’t leave my mind.”

his heart races as the words spill out of his mouth, like there’s a dam bursting inside of him. the feelings that he’s been bottling up for months finally coming out, and he doesn’t want to stop, letting those words tumble out and onto you. he can see that you’re listening intently, that you’re listening intently as his grip on your wrists tightens, almost as if he’s scared that you’re going to run away from him.

“you’ve got me so distracted i can barely focus on anything that doesn’t involve you,” he admits in a low voice, glancing down at your wrists. “i can’t even teach my own goddamn class without thinking about you.”

you’re speechless, even as he finishes, staring up at him with wide dumbfounded eyes, feeling his hammering heart beneath your fingertips just as how he feels yours under his as his thumbs continue to rub the inside of your wrists.

you suppose you can always rely on a literature professor for an extravagant, dramatic confession.

he continues to hold onto you. he’s never seen you this speechless and dumbfounded before, and he’s torn between how good it feels to see you like this and how bad it things could go now that his feelings were out.

he swallows, looking down at your wrists. he can feel your pulse point under his thumb. “say something, angel,” he murmurs, a pleading tone in his voice.

instead, you pull your hands out of his grip to wrap them around his neck, pulling him down, placing your lips against his urgently, your eyes falling shut.

his heart hammers in his chest as he kisses you back, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you against him, his fingers curling into your hoodie. he wants to kiss you forever, wants to make up for all those months of holding back, but his lungs are burning from the lack of air and he’s forced to pull away to breathe.

he lets out a sigh, his forehead falling to the crown of your head. his hands stay on you, still holding you against him. he can still feel your heart racing against his chest.

“that was your idea of saying something?”

“uh huh,” you hum, chuckling softly as you thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, mind full of him. seonghwa, seonghwa, seonghwa.

he closes his eyes as he feels your fingers, enjoying the feeling of your fingertips against his scalp. he still has his arms around you, unwilling to let go yet. he leans down just enough to press a kiss to your temple, his lips brushing softly against your skin.

“but seriously,” you snicker, pulling away from him a little “i am kinda tired, wheres the guest bed?”

he almost lets out a whine when you pull away from him, opening his eyes reluctantly. he looks down at you, a frown on his face.

“you’re really gonna go sleep by yourself?” he mutters, an almost petulant tone in his voice as he quirks his brow.

“is that not what i’m supposed to do?“

“you really think i’m going to let you sleep alone after… that? come on now, you’re not that dense.”

“i know, i just wanted you to say it,” you giggle after a moment, grinning up at him as you lean down to scoop up kuma from the couch.

he lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes, but he’s unable to hide the small smile of his own. he reaches out and ruffles your hair, letting out a scoff. “you’re insufferable.”

“and you just said you’re obsessed with me,” you shrug, kissing his cheek as his hand find the small of your back, leading you don’t the hallway, “where does the kitty sleep?”

he looks down at kuma, still curled up in your arms, practically purring himself to death. “baby, he’s a cat. he’ll sleep wherever he wants.”

you snort, setting him down on a little armchair in the corner of his room, next to some bookshelves stacked with books upon books, and more books. you lean down to pet him a few more times as seonghwa watches you with a fond smile.

he watches you as he sits on the bed, his heart clenching at how good you look in his bedroom. it feels almost surreal, having you here in his home. he pats the spot next to him.

“get over here, baby.”

networks. @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl

@likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd

@coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf @okdudeiime

[pushingdaisies1]

Kinda hate you, kinda love you . . . ♡

(✧ ˚.) PAIRING-> James "Logan" Howlett {A.K.A} Wolverine x Reader >_< (✧ ˚.) SUMMARY -> Being an X-men was a lot for you to sign up for. Well.. you didn't have a chance to deny this safe haven. The school became your home and the people that made up the X-men like a weird little familial unit. You had many reasons for staying as long as you did, but one was more prickly and jaded. The feelings you harbored for a stern and calloused Logan were.. weird for you to feel firsthand. One day, you are stuck overlooking a danger room drill between Gambit and Logan. With the new member of your world-saving team Jubilee by your side, it's too dull to NOT talk with each other. She was a good kid, hyperactive and spirited that's for sure. You talk, and talk a lot you do to the human embodiment of the fourth of July. It makes you think a little bit too hard about yours and Logans... predicament. (✧ ˚.) AUTHORS NOTE -> Hiii!!! This is my first time writing stuff for Logan so - bee tee dubs it may be complete and utter horse shit. I'd like to thank @velvrei for helping me ignite some well-dead thoughts. Genuinely love ur work sm and reading that and a lot more new/old logan content helped TONS. This is linked to the {♡x-men animated series/x-men97♡} series. I do wanna write more for the Deadpool timeline xmen/early 2000s timeline xmen!! But after seeing the masterpiece that is Deadpool and Wolverine, I lowkey just clung to those shows. I love animated Logan!! He is even more emotionally stunted/sassy sad!! (✧ ˚.) CWS (?) -> Logan nd u are sad ppl who don't know how to voice ur feelings!! , pining from afar/one-sided not so one-sided yearning, UHM HURT/KINDA COMFORT??? MAYBE??? I THINK??? , unprompted suggestiveness from logan , mentions of struggling to connect with other ppl/fears of the future (bay bay jubilee my love) , u and Jubilee just kinda bond, off topic idk cajun dialect so..... , and u infodump as a weird suto older sister/mom in her life, this was all very spur of the moment so uhm - not proofread!!! kinda!!!!!!!

The dangeroom was a room a lot of the X-men team spent their time in. To either train for a new threat or for general movement, drills were a common theme. Especially after world-shaking events, which were always somehow a constant, the professor was the equivalent of an alarm clock. Drills this, always having to run down into the war room. You didn't mind the training sessions if it was one-on-one or even with the whole team. Sometimes though, it was almost nagging. 

Though there were little things you'd do to pass this time. If you were made to overlook it or otherwise. Most of the time there didn't need to be supervision within the training center itself. Everyone was on high alert, and off days were few and far between. Logan had been hashing it out with Gambit all morning and wanted to do a specific procedure setting. You held your head in your hands as you sighed at the grown men's demands. Gambit was a professional sweet talker, Logan wasn't when needed. Of course, you complied, understanding the sudden want for more extensive training. When Jubilee volunteered you started to not loathe the idea of sitting in on Logan and Gambit - literally butting heads. 

Jubilee was a nice kid, you felt bad for her sudden entrance into life within the school. The professor was welcoming as always. With your push and her foster parents wanting her to be safe from threats like the sentinels, she was a bonified member.

Being the "newbie" always had its drawbacks. From day one you made sure to have her back, you could relate to her whole fish-out-of-water point of view. Logan saw the way you attached fast to the kid. He was like a vault of thoughts and feelings. Thoughts and feelings he never wanted to bring up or even let alone talk about. But it made your heart flutter just a tad when he sat his hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing a thumb against it.

He had stopped you before you were about to retire to your room. In the doorway to your personal, pillow escape he made sure to reel you down to earth. "Give the kid some breathing room. I know you want to help but there's no use for you smothering her."

You were almost baffled. What was he going on about? You were just looking out for her? Deep down, you did know what he meant. He might have not been a long-term X-Men member. But he did know you and the fragments of "memories" you held so dearly close to your chest. You two were so different and yet one in the same. Before you could even argue, he gave you a small .. somewhat comforting pat on said shoulder. "Just a friendly word of advice bub, don't take it so close to heart. Oh wait, that's inevitable." He joked at you with his signature toothy grin. You couldn't help but scoff in surprise and laughter as he jabbed at you with his SINGULAR witty remark.

Logan could be many things. Rough around the edges, even a total asshole when he felt like it. But to you, he was your kryptonite. It was pathetic the way you'd always eventually be pulled to bend at that man's every word. He just did that to you, and you had no answer to it. 

Making your way up to the upper room with Jubilee, you watched with tired eyes as the door to the observation room slid open. Cold - walls and floor head to toe with this sleek metal texture. There were two chairs, right behind the control panel where the training sequence(s) would be initiated. Your eyes were trained on the window as you watched Gambit and Logan make their entrance inside the training room itself. Gambit of course was rapidly shuffling a deck of cards. They were almost flying in the palms of his hands as he prepared them. Logan was of course blabbing his big mouth, in his signature suit "lumbering up" as he would call it. Finally, as you just now sat your bottom into the smooth-cushioned observation chairs, Jubilee was already starting the conversation. Thank god for you as you were still shaking the morning off of you."So what? , we just watch them throw around with each other, or what?" She cracked with a curious glance at the two men down below. You rested your chin in the palm of your hand as you leaned back. "Pretty much, we're here just in case the system doesn't shut down in time. Sometimes it does that."

She paused before she gave you a pointed look, her chunky pink sunglasses almost falling off of her black head of hair. "We're babysitting them!?" She retorted with a sort of faux annoyance. "I mean it's 'something' to do but - come on...." She groaned as she crossed her arms, heavy in on the air quotations. Cutting in, you directed your hand to the control panel. "No no no, not just that.”

Gathering your thoughts, you pointed out each scenario on the deck. You couldn't help but crack a smile at Jubilee's small "ohs" and "ah's". With the development, you two were brought into a nice steady stream of conversation. Hunched in her seat, yellow boots crinkling in this position, she poked and prodded you about your style and so on. it was nice to be looked at with such idealization. Her eyes were huge with wonder as she jumped to questions and searched for answers. Though it was only so nice until the two of you were interrupted by the impact of a card deck. As it smacked against the window, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

Hitting the intercom, you cleared your throat. "So sorry gentlemen! You two ready or what?" You retorted as you leaned over the panel. Gambit gathered back the cards into his hands. "Me? , 'course cher! Any day I would love to stick it to da fuzz ball over der." He remarked with a scheming smirk. Logan growled as his claws immediately sprouted from his knuckles. "I'll show you fuzz ball you pest." His lip curled up almost like a predator ready to pounce.

Jubilee sat back quiet as a mouse as she watched you talk through to the two. "Alrighty alright! Save the pouncing for later." You barked with a small chuckle at the end. You couldn't help but feel buzzy at the way Logan reared his head up. Gambit was too busy swapping cards from hand to hand. But all of Logan's attention was just on you, it was always just on you.

 "Okay, how are we feeling about the ruined city for today?" You asked the two as Gambit started to twirl a card in between his middle and pointer fingers. "Yes yes yes, dat will do just nicely, right Wolvie?" He asserted - training a hard on the hard-headed "foe." Logan's voice was low and gruff as he found his stance. "Don't get so ahead of yourself Gamby." He retorted as he turned back to you in the window. "Start it up doll, before this one here loses all of his spice." He barked with a laugh as Logan jostled his mask on. You rolled your eyes with a faint smile. "If you say so, bee-tee-dubs .. don't kill each other! Please and thank you." You affirmed as the array of buttons were clicked. As the scenery shifted into a torn-down cityscape, foes were already on the two men. The only fun thing about watching over the training sessions was getting to watch fellow X-Men in action. Just not with the risk of losing your life in the process. Leaning back into your chair, you took in a nice breath of air. Peace, for now at least. Jubilee sat up more straight, letting her bright yellow duster-like jacket collect at the sides of her chair. She brought her legs to her chest as both you and she watched Gambit and Logans fighting. You could feel her eyes wander to you in the quiet. You looked directly towards her, a sympathetic smile gracing your face. "How are you feeling?" Your voice was small but warm, comforting almost. This was the first time someone had even really asked her. "I don't know... it's like everything is just changing at once. I feel like a big Rubix cube." She said with a frown as she got more comfortable where she sat. You nodded your head in almost remembrance. "Trust me, becoming an X-men isn't the hardest part. It's living like one." Admitting with a soft sort of comfort, Jubilee was already warmer than before. The training session flew by as you two just talked and talked. She lamented about what life would be like now, what she would and wouldn't miss. How she was stripped of living like a normal teenager. "I mean everyone here has already been so nice to me, but this is just gonna take a lot of getting used to. ", she would lament to you in honesty. You tried to be as insightful as possible. Telling her that living as an X-men will always be tricky. But there will always be the people around here that'll keep you steady. Her ears perked up when you listed off your so-called "anchors." She immediately butted in after you listed off the Wolverine himself, Logan. "That guy? You two seem to be always at each other's throats?" She cracked at you with an inquisitive grin. "Well I mean yeah - he can be .. overly confident a lot of the time." You were almost reminding yourself. You didn't realize how long you spent talking about your scruffy metal-clawed 'friend.' You went on and on about how he combated with you in the best possible ways. How with his time in the X-Men, he opened up your worldview in many instances. He did so much to you and for you. He was almost like your escape in a way, and he maybe shared the same view. You didn't get into the nitty-gritty details of it, 'cause ew. But the moments away from daily life hecticness within the school you and he shared were your favorite. His arms were the sweetest embrace anyone could ask for. But that's what friends do, that's what friends are for.

 Though you always wondered if maybe you were wrong. Maybe you were holding on to nothing. Maybe there was an intimate connection between you two hiding under the surface. But you had a track record of getting your hopes up. You dashed those daydreams away as Jubilee yanked you back down into the now of things. Time flew by as the training sequence ended. Logan was immediately gloating his way out of the danger room. You and Jubilee met the two halfway. Gambit sang your high praises as he lamented about kicking Logan's ass in the drill. As the two grown men bickered Jubilee made her exit known. Since the professor was already summoning them all to the war room. Gambit waved you off with a small wink and another grand shuffle of his cards. Which just left you and logan ... fun. 

He quirked his brow in your direction as he realized your quiet demeanor. “Can you believe the guy? - come on bub you saw me!” He said in astonishment at Gambit's gambit tendencies. You crinkled your nose in a small giggle. If you were seeing straight, you couldn’t help but notice a small dash of a smile on Logan's face once he saw your mood brighten. His smile always found ways to make your knees weak and arms all jelly. “Yeah yeah, dont get your panties in a twist Lo.” You said with a twinkle in your eye. A grin followed spreading almost ear to ear.

His eyes softened ever so slightly with your jokes. He grumbled out his poorest joke yet. “Oh, I’ll show you.” He retorted before yanking you into him. Your back met his chest plate as you felt his collection of sweat. His muscled arms wrapped around your midsection as he whirled you around like a windmill. You ignited with laughter and “yucks” as you felt his sweat spreading onto you. You fought out his hold with a grimace and a sheepish chuckle, wiping your eye. “Christ man, you got all your .. muck on me!”

By now his claws were already dashed away. So his hands were now placed on his hips. He rolled his eyes as he looked you up and down. “Come on, you’ll live to see another day shrimpy.” He claimed with his eyes slowly wandering. “I look like a wet dog thanks to you.” You frowned jokingly, shaking your arms out. “On and on with you.” He remarked once again with his eyes rolling AGAIN soon after.

Closer and closer the two of you got as you both threw phony insults back and forth. Before your lips were inches away from one another. He drawled his quick mouth up and spat back something that would leave your mind in utter… shock. Was confusion the right word?  “Don’t play around with me, dimples. I know you’d like more than just my arms around you.” You quickly gasped out the pocket of air you were holding onto. A long pause was felt throughout the hall before you two darted in separate ways.

“I need to change!” You sheepishly shouted as you headed in the opposite direction of him. He did the same, mumbling whatever under his breath. “Don’t slip and fall!” He coughed out as you rubbed your face in annoyance. “Eat shit, Logan!” , “That’ll be a long time coming!” The both of you remarked to the other in unison. Both of your voices share the same sort of flustered frustration. You raced into the showers as you soon stumbled towards the sinks.

You splashed your face with cold water as your heart was still racing. Your cheeks were burning up let alone from his words. But you were soon able to catch up with your breath. Regaining your composure you looked yourself in the mirror. Gritting your teeth as you looked at the fool Logan made you. The Wolverine could be a hard-headed buffoon. Always on his way to making a snide insult with whichever X-men member was disagreeing with him. But god damn it was he your poison. You hated him and he hated you. That was the thing that kept you steady as you changed into uniform and raced towards the ongoing meeting. You knew that same smile still lingered on your face once you made your entrance into the war room. Able to brush off the team's sudden accusations as you made sure to remind everyone about the issue at hand. The Professor thanked you as he went back to discussing what new threats plagued human life. Your eyes always made their way back to Logans with small lingers. Making eye contact with you, his eye-line was diverted by you as you turned your attention back to the professor. The Wolverine was a fool, and he had already found purchase in your foolish heart. 

ꔫ✉ reblogs/interaction is appreciated <3 part two - ⭐️

[sugurugetofavoritemonkey]

Dry humping with Ethan Landry while giving each other love bites.

Giving Ethan Landry so many love bites while you both rest in bed as the morning sun begins to shine between the curtains of his room. The only sounds that can be heard are the pretty whines that escape from his mouth while you nip at the sensitive skin of his throat. Ethan can’t explain why but the feeling of his lovely girlfriend marking him for everyone to see makes him feel flustered and needy for more as his big hands grasp your hips with more strength.

When you lift your head back up to look dreamily with a proud smile at your masterpiece, letting your fingers dance across the newly formed hickeys, you can feel Ethan’s covered bulge poking at your naked thigh slightly. You don’t seem to notice how Ethan’s gaze has darkened just the slightest while his hand comes to gently rest on your jaw, bringing your gaze back on him before his body gets on top of you. A blush still adorns his pretty cheeks while his lust and love drunk gaze seems to lose itself in your own eyes.

His hand cups your face as his thumb caresses your cheek slowly, only breaking eye contact when his head bends down to kiss below your ear, nibbling at your lobe timidly at first then leaving a trail of soft kisses along the column of your throat that pulses beneath his lips. His tongue joins his kisses as they become more intense on your skin while he whispers against your neck with new-found boldness that you’re the only one to have triggered within him.

« You’ll let me leave some marks on you as well, right baby ? »

You can’t see his face at the moment but you know his eyes hold an innocent gaze even though his actions are contradicting his features. Ethan’s right hand holds your jaw a bit tighter while his left hand tightens around your hip that starts to rub against his moving crotch, making you whimper softly at the intimate situation that turned against you all too quickly.

Ethan starts to kiss and bite at your neck more passionately as he tentatively covers your skin in his own love bites, the pretty boy moans against your face when the two of you are starting dry humping each other. Ethan kisses your now reddish skin with ragged breath as he murmurs the next words with a more intimidating tone, nearly possessive.

« I can’t let anyone steal you away from me… If these marks don’t hold them back from you…my most precious treasure…then I’ll just have to use more…drastic measures. »

Another Ethan Landry thing

[clericofgale]

The stars will be our bed

I'm seeing a very popular narrative that asking for physical sex during Gale's act 2 scene is better for his character development, and the astral scene is bad for him. Or at least not as good. While I do prefer the astral version more, I disagree with the notion that either one is better for Gale's plot development. I've done both options depending on the what felt right for that specific Tav at the time. As always, if that's the narrative you want to build, there's nothing wrong with it.

For me personally I think both are narratively sound for his character development. Yes Gale needs to know he doesn't need magic to be loved, but Gale also loves magic. It's his life, his passion and his artistic medium of choice. What he needs is balance, not total rejection. You want the man, and the magic.

"Tactful, Bowing to the player's desires"

If you insist on regular sex, that's the devnote that's attached to it. Gale is acquiescing to what you, the player wants. Gale wanted to share his magic with you, but you refused. He doesn't care either way, as long as he's spending the night with you. The approval numbers are the same. He obviously prefers the astral sex because it's what he's used to and confident in, but either is fine.

One thing we have to remember is Gale also uses magic to find connection. In the act 1 weave scene, Gale and you share thoughts over the weave. It's exactly what he's trying to do in Act 2 as well. It's a mind meld sequence using the weave. I don't think Gale is trying to use magic to as a front in this scene, despite the "I can wow you" sentence if you refuse. I think he's trying to share his inner self with magic as the canvas, and connect with you in this most intimate way. It's akin to Fane's scene in DOS2 where you share Source with each other and also mind meld.

Gale wants to distill a lifetime's worth of affection into one night because he feels he will die soon. The scene is his "Last Night Alive". Gale, the artist of the weave puts on his final and private show for his beloved. He weaves stars and invites light to the land of shadows. He's prepared for days for this whole sequence, and you only need to trust him.

If you do he leads you into his innermost world. First, where he feels safest, and the balcony that brings him comfort. Then the book of a thousand days and nights filled with his love for you. The amount of time he wishes he had left to show you his affection, physical or emotional.

But he only has one night.

"There are endless worlds out there. Countless ways to declare love. Infinite ways to express it. Too much for one night.. but we shall try."

The astral scene is him trying. He multiplies as he refuses to let go your hand. He caresses every part of your mind, body, and soul. Gale tries desperately to sear every fiber of your being, of the one he loves onto his own soul. He wants to feel everything you do, and the weave is capable of that.

"Your bodies and minds weave together in a masterpiece of intimacy. Never have you felt such wonder, such love - as vast as the universe itself, and just as heavenly. "

You are one and the same that night. Where Gale ends and you begin is a mystery; he is lost in you and you in him.

"We are all sensual vessels. Illusory magic lets us sail farther, and feel more deeply."

The scene is beautiful, both narratively and visually. This is not a man trying to use magic to demonstrate his worth so you won't leave him. This is a man trying to use magic to weave a tapestry from two spools of thread in one night. It's ok to let him do so. It's also ok to remind him he doesn't need to. Whichever feels right in that moment is the right choice.

They all end in giving Gale renewed hope. Magic was merely the medium on which it blossomed and thrived. Whether from a bed of stars or a bed conjured under it, your love is what gave it life.

Thanks for reading this way too long cold take.

[neil-gaiman]

Greetings, Mr. Neil! I don't even know if you'll answer, but to start, I wanted to tell you that I love your job. I love your shared work with Mr. Terry, the book I consider a masterpiece. I'm also sure Mr. Terry is looking down at you from up above, smiling, with a pleased face, because he is proud of you that you managed to make his wish come true alongside a great group of wonderful actors and directors.

I wanted to share with you this little thing that means a lot to me. It was the year 2019, I was going around various cities to do visits and check-ups for my mental health problems, when one day I decided to enter a bookstore, and there I saw "Good Omens" for the first time. I picked it up and looked at it, but I was in a hurry so I didn't buy it. On the night of that same day I had a dream, a very realistic dream where I saw myself enter that bookstore, pick up the book, pay for it and come out of that store with it in my arms. I didn't pay much attention to it, but then, the next night, I had the exact same dream. I had this dream three nights in a row. On the fourth day I had to go back to the city where that bookstore was, and I finally decided to buy the book. Since that day, I haven't had that strange, all too real dream. It was as if the book itself was calling me. It was an eerie feeling but also very beautiful and intriguing. I read the book and then found out that a TV series was coming out soon! I bought the book of the series, the DVD, and recently also the Script Book! I'm a huge fan, and I'm very proud of being one. Good Omens has helped me a lot in particularly difficult moments and continues to help me to this day.

Now, the question... I have so many I can't make up my mind, but... it's about when Gabriel remembered something for the first time.

He remembered what God had said to Job. He said it, too, but his voice was kind of distorted, and in that distortion, I could hear the voice of God overlapping. Why is it? Was it meant to be heard? Because I remember you saying you didn't need God's voice for this second season...

Thanks for reading this far, and thanks again for bringing such a masterpiece into the world together with Mr. Terry. <3

That's Frances McDormand as God, yes. I didn't need her voice as narrator, but we needed it as God in Episode 2...

[chocsra]

✧ "Salvation; Devotion"

16! stormbringer! Chuuya x fem! reader

✧ summary: being targeted by paul verlaine after being chuuyas friend, though when he comes to talk to you with a european detective, it seems to be more than friendship. ✧ content: small oneshot, fluff, angst (kinda), adam + angsty teenagers ✧ w/c: 1.4k

Chuuya - meaning "loyalty, devotion"

Nakahara - meaning "central plain"

His devotion was not only his strongest attribute, but his most tender weakness.

You knew a boy. He was young and short, but fiery and strong. He was mysterious, born with unknown origins, and walked the wrong path, that's why he's not only humanity's most destructive weapon but a lowly, pitiful, criminal.

It was something you weren't, though you didn't mind much.

But under the guise of celestial imperfections, Chuuya was a constellation falling into place. He was beautiful. Sunkissed with the kind of foreign beauty you’d see in actors that would play some sort of prince. Your first examination of him was his wealthy and neatly ironed clothing—the kind of blazers and shoes that you’d find in a modelling campaign. Even the accented cuffs of his clothing were underlined with emerald or other precious stones. Then, his silky russet hair, one thrown into a low ponytail—the hairstyle itself still retained a strong masculinity despite the length. Or maybe that came from the musky cologne he constantly wore. A hint of cigarettes, strawberries and that strong scent of virile.

The soft glow from his copper locks then shifted to the fitted collar around his neck—an odd fashion choice, but it really accentuated the ivory of his skin. Soft, sun-kissed skin that’d make its way to his face. A beautiful face, really. Delicate and angelic features with a permanent scowl tugging on his lips—soft pink lips. Chuuya's eyes reflected a fine smoky quartz. His cheeks and nose kissed with a few scattered freckles.

You wondered why a boy so sublime had the status of an onerous beast. Even he took the words that held the weight of a blade and cut himself until he was reduced to the slit of a knife.

You met that same boy, a masterpiece ripped at every edge, not in the dangers of the mafia, but where a silver line stretches to the sea. Where the sun meets the sky, where the light shines.

But even then, you treated him differently. You didn't treat him like he was something fragile. Neither did you treat him like the monstrosity he was sought out to be. You didn't worship him, nor did you greatly depend on him. Instead, you found his humanity and treated him as such. Once a stranger, then a friend, then..

Nevermind.

"Chuuya?!"

You heard the calamity of each step he took to reach you, the boy stopping to pant. "[Y/N].. we need to talk." next to the redhead, was a tall European man with short brown hair, he didn't look tired at all compared to Chuuya. "Greetings, my name is Adam Frankenstein." You cocked a brow at his monotonous voice, the way his mouth moved didn't seem in sync with his words either. "You're rather special, Master Chuuya spent almost 7 hours looking for yo-" Adam explained briefly, causing the redhead to grimace and cut him off, "Shut it, will ya?!"

...

You heaved a bothersome sigh, elbows planted on a cafe table as the two men sat in front of you. "So.. why do you need me, Chuuya?" you question, fiddling with your fingers, "And who's he?.." your gaze uplifts to the brunette foreigner, which the man carefully takes a pack of gum and begins to unfold it, popping a piece in his mouth, before swallowing it. Your eyebrows furrow in a moment of youthful distaste.

Chuuya clutches the cup of tea between his gloved fingers and murmurs something intangible, "Adam's a detective from Europole, investigating Verlaine. He wants to know more about him, which is why he's been following me around.." he finally explains, taking a calculated and almost frustrated sip of his tea.

"Verlaine. Who's Verlaine?" You ask momentarily, causing the redhead to part his lips to answer, but you quickly halt as the detective swallows another piece of gum down his throat. "And why is he chewing gum like that?"

"That's what I'm sayin'!" the teenager half-seriously slams the cup of tea on the table, "He swallows it like a nutjob. You need help, tin man." Chuuya scoffs, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat almost nervously.

"You need help. You spent 6 hours and 47 minutes looking for h-" the brunette explains with a hint of sass in his voice, the redhead's eyes widening in shock, "I said shut up!"

You shuffle in your seat awkwardly as the two men argue. Scratching the back of your neck before Chuuya finally settles down, patting down the cashmere of his suit.

"So here's the thing about Verlaine.. he's this batshit crazy assassin, and uh.. here's the real kicker.." the mafioso mutters, fiddling with his gloved fingers uneasily. "You're gonna be the bait."

Your jaw immediately drops, a hand clasping over your chest in the offence. "Excuse me?! For what?.. to get killed?!" Chuuya looks distressed at your response, seeking Adam's gaze for at least a little help in his later response.

"Your safety is ensured. We just need to lure Verlaine out, so Master Chuuya can eliminate him." the detective explains rather calmly, fishing for something in the pocket of his suit before handing a chocolate bar to you. "Here, sugar helps with stress." the redhead smiles awkwardly at Adam's response, giving a nervous thumbs up.

You snatch the chocolate bar with a bit of attitude, eyes narrowing to Chuuya as the boy inhales sharply, "I thought I wouldn't get involved in your mafia affairs, now I have to die?" you ask with furrowed brows, anger cracking in your voice. Causing the teenager to gulp in slight fear, a rare sight to Adam, as he's never sensed fear from Master Chuuya. Especially to a young girl like you.

"Well, you won't die... More like, almost die." The detective explains, hoping he'd ease your nerves at least a bit. "Doesn't matter! M'not doing it!" You shout in vexation, hopping up from your seat as you pick up your school bag. "Plus, I couldn't if I wanted to, anyway," you murmur,

"Wait.. why?" Chuuya asks with conviction.

your gaze adverts to the different sights in the area: the park bench, passersby, and the cafe's menu. Anything but Chuuya's confused face.

"Uhm.. I have a project that's due tomorrow, and I didn't start yet."

"You can't be serious!"

The teenager runs up to you in frustration, you clutch your bag as you turn to him. "Oh, but I am!" you remark, walking faster as the brunette detective catches up. "I'm very serious! After all, this is a serious project!"

The redhead pants and wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead, "You're really gonna prioritise a school project over your own life?!" he cries out, still trying to catch up to you.

"Anything is better than being bait for the Port Mafia!" You yell out, settling your argument atop a bridge, ignoring how the sun was starting to set in an arrangement of oranges and pinks. "Shit- Don't say that so loud!"

"I'd rather finish a school project than become bait for the Port Mafia!!"

You repeat again, louder this time. Chuuya pinches his nose bridge in frustration, tilting his head up towards the setting sun. And upon you halting your swift steps, the redhead finally catches up to you, and to your surprise, he grabs your hand to spin you around.

"Look, I had a shitty week too!" the boy lets go of your hand, making you huff a little bit. But instead of letting you go, he cups both of your cheeks and pulls you close, his gaze never averting from yours. "People that mattered to me died, so many of them," the teenager explains, a melancholic glint lingering in his pretty eyes, you could see it all from the close proximity of his face. "and I'd do anything for you to not be one of those people."

You gulp hard as your eyes scan over the glass of his eyes, the once stormy grey now welling holding back tears.

Silence.

Adam clears his throat, standing beside you and the mafioso awkwardly, "Apologies for interrupting. But this whole exchange is very childish. Master Chuuya, don't you think there are better words to articulate your romantic feelings towards [Y/N]?.. Perhaps after this all over, you can solve this by getting into a relationship-" you and the boy both retort at the detective in unison:

"Shut up, Adam!"

...

"Okay, I'll help you." you frown with conviction, "You owe me a school project, though."

The redhead presses two fingers to his glabella, "I'll send someone to complete it for you."

✧ chocsra™

taglist for those who interacted in this post:

@loserzai @juice1231 @silverbladexyz @soleelia @cherylpoptarts @jackiepackiee @sapphire-tears013 @sstarshroom @n0thum4ny @roujira

[gvnvks]

// zb1 boys wanting your attention / affection.

> pairings: non-idol!zb1 x fem-reader

> warnings: pet names, a lot of touch, lowercase intended, not proofread

> song recommendation: crazy by luminous (DRIVE ME CRAZY CRAZY OOH CRAZY CRAZY)

> a/n: i think im back but like fr now… thank yall for 500 followers!!

// 김 jiwoong.

seated at a corner table, you were engrossed in your work, laptop open, fingers dancing across the keyboard. lost in your world of words and ideas, you hardly noticed jiwoong, your ever-adoring boyfriend, quietly sipping his latte at the opposite side of the table.

he gazed at you with a warm, affectionate smile, his eyes sparkling like sunlight on a tranquil lake. with a playful twinkle, he began, “you know, ive always thought that if words were colors, the ones you type would paint the most beautiful masterpiece.”

you looked up, surprised by his poetic remark. a soft blush tinged your cheeks as you replied, “oh, come on. you're just saying that to distract me.”

jiwoong chuckled, his laughter like a soft melody. “maybe i am. but can you blame me? i can't resist stealing your attention away from those words for just a moment.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “you're shameless.” he leaned forward, his voice turning slightly serious. “i'm shamelessly in love with you.”

a delighted giggle escaped your lips. “flattery will get you everywhere, you know.”

jiwoongs gaze turned thoughtful as he looked out of the window, his eyes fixed on the swaying branches of a nearby tree. “you know, watching the leaves dance in the wind reminds me of you. effortlessly beautiful and always moving forward.”

you leaned back, your heart fluttering at his words. “smooth talker.”

“im just speaking from the heart,” he said, his fingers tracing an imaginary path on the table. “and my heart tells me that i miss you even though you're right in front of me.”

your fingers paused over the keyboard, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “youre the one who chose to come with me to the café, remember?”

your boyfriend sighed dramatically, a hand on his chest. “ah, but my heart didn't get the memo. its been pining for your attention.”

with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, you pushed your laptop aside. “alright, you win. what do you want, mr. heart-pining?”

he grinned, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “just a kiss to tide my heart over until youre done conquering the literary world.”

a delighted laugh bubbled up from your chest as you leaned across the table, meeting him halfway. your lips met in a sweet, lingering kiss that felt like a promise of forever.

as you pulled back, jiwoongs eyes held a mix of adoration and playfulness. “thank you for indulging my heart.”

“youre welcome,” you replied, your fingers now entwined with his. “but only because youre my favorite distraction.”

// 장 hao.

you stood by a large window, your voice weaving a gentle tapestry of words as you spoke to your mother over the phone. the room itself seemed to listen, its walls echoing with your laughter and the comforting words exchanged.

unbeknownst to you, hao watched from a distance, his heart swelling with affection for the beautiful scene before him. his tousled hair and sleepy eyes hinted at a man who had just risen from dreams, but his determination sparkled brighter than the morning sun. a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he plotted his charming disruption.

with a soft, silent step, your boyfriend closed the distance between you. his fingers brushed over the piano, and a soft melody trickled into the air, a backdrop for his silent advance. your voice continued to flow, but his eyes met yours, a playful gleam dancing within them. as his fingers reached you, they brushed against your arm in a featherlight touch.

your startled laughter bubbled through the phone, a melody that blended with the piano's notes. “mom, i think there's a tickle monster on the loose!” you teased, glancing toward hao. he chuckled, his fingers stilling on the keys.

“im innocent, i swear,” he chimed, his voice a gentle harmony to the symphony of the morning.

your mothers laughter resonated through the phone, a distant yet warm presence. “well, it sounds like you two are having a wonderful morning.”

haos fingers now traced patterns along your forearm, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. “speaking of wonderful mornings, i think this one could be even more wonderful if someone would spare a moment for her boyfriend.”

you rolled your eyes in playful exasperation. “hao, youre not going to give up, are you?”

his gaze held yours, his eyes twinkling. “never, especially not when it comes to winning your affection.”

a soft sigh escaped you, one that carried the depth of your fondness. “mom, ive got a persistent charmer here who wont let me concentrate.”

her laughter flowed through the line, a soft caress. “well, dear, enjoy these moments. love like that is a treasure.”

your boyfriends fingers found their way to your cheeks, his touch warm against your skin. “see, even your mom agrees. now, how about a kiss?”

you glanced at him, feigning resistance. “oh, fine. but only if you promise to behave afterward.”

his eyes danced with playful mischief as his lips met yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. “deal,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a whispered promise.

// 성 hanbin.

a gentle hum of laughter and conversations filled the air as you and your friends sat around the table, immersed in your chatter. the table was adorned with a bouquet of vibrant wildflowers, their colors echoing the joyous atmosphere.

hanbin leaned back comfortably in his chair, a playful glint in his eyes. hed been trying to catch your attention all evening, but you were engrossed in your friends' anecdotes.

as one of your friends animatedly recounted a hilarious work story, hanbin softly cleared his throat from beside you. you glanced at him, and he flashed you an endearing smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“you know,” he began casually, “i heard they have the most amazing desserts here. maybe we should order something sweet to share?”

you nodded in agreement, and your attention returned to your friends. your boyfriends hand found its way to the back of your chair, his fingers gently grazing your shoulder, sending a tingling sensation down your spine. he leaned in a little closer, his voice a hushed whisper only you could hear.

“i think youre the sweetest thing here, though,” he teased, his lips brushing against your earlobe. you stifled a giggle, trying to keep your composure as his words sent warmth rushing to your cheeks.

just as you thought hanbin might be satisfied with his display of affection, he took it up a notch. your friend was now sharing a particularly amusing anecdote, and hanbins fingers lightly traced patterns on your forearm, his touch featherlight and barely noticeable to anyone else. your skin prickled with awareness, and you shot him a sideways glance.

“what are you doing?” you whispered, a playful glint in your eyes as you caught on to his game.

hanbin grinned mischievously. “who, me? im just appreciating the fine art of touch communication.”

you chuckled softly, leaning closer to him. “well, mr. communication expert, what else do you have up your sleeve?”

his eyes sparkled with excitement as he leaned even closer, his lips now barely brushing against your ear. “how about this?” he murmured, his fingers tracing a heartwarming pattern on the inside of your wrist.

you couldnt help the soft sigh that escaped your lips. hanbin always knew how to make your heart dance with delight. as the evening progressed, you found yourself stealing glances and exchanging secret smiles with him, a silent dialogue of affection that only the two of you shared.

and as the night drew to a close, dessert plates now cleared, hanbins hand found yours beneath the table, his fingers interlocking with yours in a silent promise of forever.

// 석 matthew.

in the clinking of weights and the hum of machines filling the air, you were engrossed in your workout routine, headphones on, completely absorbed in the rhythm of your exercises.

your boyfriend stood nearby, a playful and yet proud smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he watched you lift dumbbells with focused determination, your brows slightly furrowed. unable to resist any longer, he strolled over and leaned against a nearby machine, his warm brown eyes fixated on you.

“youre looking incredibly impressive there,” he quipped, his voice a playful whisper that barely reached your ears above the music.

you blinked, momentarily taken aback before a grin broke across your face. “oh, so you think im finally lifting as much as you?”

matthew chuckled, his gaze dancing with amusement. “well, i wouldnt go that far. but youre definitely getting there.”

as you continued your set, matthews fingers lightly grazed your arm, causing a pleasant shiver to race down your spine. “need any pointers?” he asked, a hint of boyish charm in his tone.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “i think ive got this, thank you very much.”

he leaned in closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “ive seen your squats, and i must admit, theyre pretty impressive.”

a soft flush crept up your cheeks, but you tried to hide it by focusing on your next set. your boyfriend seemed determined to keep your attention, however. with a grin, he gently adjusted your posture, his fingers guiding your movements. “here, a little shift in your stance will give you better balance.”

you complied, surprised by how his touch not only corrected your form but also sent a pleasant warmth radiating through you. “thanks, i can feel the difference.”

matthews fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary, his touch becoming a lingering caress. “anytime, my personal training services are always available,” he teased.

betwixt the exchanged flirtatious glances and playfully bickering comments, matthews care and affection were evident. he fetched a water bottle for you, making sure you stayed hydrated, and subtly encouraged you through the more challenging sets.

as the session continued, he surprised you by joining in, effortlessly matching your pace. “you make this look so easy,” you huffed, sweat-drenched and slightly breathless.

matthew grinned, his shirt clinging to his chest as he mimicked your exercises. “well, someones gotta make sure youre not the only one suffering here.”

// 김 taerae.

as you stood by the stove, carefully flipping pancakes, your boyfriend entered the kitchen with a rascal expression. “hey there,” he chimed, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. his touch was both affectionate and reassuring.

you chuckled, focusing on not letting the pancakes burn. “good morning, taerae. whats the occasion for this sneak attack?”

he rested his chin on your shoulder, observing your culinary skills with genuine admiration. “no occasion. i just realized how lucky i am to have a girlfriend who can turn flour and eggs into something magical.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “yeah. youre just buttering me up because you want some pancakes.”

“guilty as charged,” he admitted with a chuckle. his fingers traced gentle circles on your waist, sending shivers down your spine. “but also because i want some of your attention too.”

you finally turned off the stove and turned to face him, your eyes meeting his twinkling gaze. “you have my attention now. what do you want?”

taerae feigned innocence, his lips curling into a youthful grin. “hmm, maybe a kiss to start with?”

you pretended to consider his request, tapping your finger against your chin. “lets see. pancakes or a kiss… tough choice.”

he gasped in mock astonishment. “are you saying my kisses arent as delicious as your pancakes?”

you leaned in, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “definitely not as delicious, but close enough.”

he pulled you into a warm hug, his arms encircling you tightly. “ill take close enough.”

as you both swayed gently to an imaginary rhythm, the aroma of breakfast filled the air. taeraes fingers idly drew patterns on your back as he spoke softly. “you know, i think im addicted to your touch.”

you chuckled, nuzzling your head against his chest. “oh really? do you need a daily dose of my touch to function properly?”

“absolutely,” he replied without hesitation. “its like a warm, comforting energy that i cant get enough of.”

with the pancakes ready, you playfully extricated yourself from his embrace and set the table. “well, i guess i cant deny you your daily dose of affection then.”

he helped you with the plates, his eyes never leaving your face. “you know, im starting to believe that the best moments in life happen right here in this kitchen.”

you handed him a plate with a smirk. “are you saying that my cooking is the key to your heart?”

“among other things,” he teased, winking at you. “but honestly, its the love and laughter that fill this space that make it so special.”

// 리키 ricky.

as you saw the sun dipping below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the quaint little restaurant, you found yourself seated at a beautifully set table alongside your family. the ambiance was serene, with gentle music playing in the background and the distant sounds of laughter and clinking cutlery from nearby tables. the scent of delectable dishes wafted through the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation.

ricky sat beside you. he was dressed in a crisp white shirt that accentuated his blonde, tousled hair and his beautiful grin. you could feel his leg occasionally brushing against yours under the table, his way of seeking connection even in a crowd.

as the first course arrived, ricky leaned in slightly, his lips almost grazing your ear as he whispered, “hey, have i told you how stunning you look tonight?”

you chuckled softly, feeling a warm blush creep up your cheeks. “if im not mistaken, you already mentioned it thrice," you replied with a playful twinkle in your eye.

across the table, your sibling raised an eyebrow and grinned knowingly. “are you two whispering sweet nothings over there?” they teased.

your boyfriend leaned back, a sheepish grin on his face. “just trying to keep the romance alive,” he quipped, earning an amused chuckle from your parents.

as the main course was served, rickys fingers found their way to yours beneath the tablecloth. his touch was gentle and reassuring, a silent reminder of his presence amidst the family gathering. you intertwined your fingers with his, giving his hand a tender squeeze, and he responded with a loving smile that melted your heart.

between the clatter of cutlery and the hum of conversation, rickys foot subtly brushed against yours. you shot him a questioning look, and he raised an innocent eyebrow, feigning innocence. “oops, sorry,” he said, barely suppressing a mischievous grin.

your mother, ever perceptive, couldnt help but notice the exchange. she leaned in, a knowing smile on her lips. “just be sure to save some affection for dessert, you two,” she advised with a wink.

dessert arrived in the form of decadent chocolate cake, accompanied by a scoop of velvety vanilla ice cream. rickys eyes lit up as he took his first bite, and he couldnt resist offering you a forkful with an impish grin. “here, a taste of heaven.”

you indulged in the delicious treat, savoring the sweet and creamy flavors. “mmm, youre right. this is amazing,” you agreed, your eyes locked on his.

as the evening drew to a close, with your family engaged in cheerful chatter and laughter, rickys hand found its way to the small of your back. his touch was light yet possessive, a silent promise that he was there by your side, no matter the setting.

with a satisfied sigh, you leaned into his touch, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. the restaurants warm lighting and the soft buzz of conversation created a cocoon of intimacy around the two of you.

as the night wound down and your family began to bid their farewells, your boyfriend stood up, helping you with your chair. his fingers brushed against yours again, his touch lingering as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “thanks for letting me crash your family dinner,” he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

you turned to him, your heart full of affection. “anytime, as long as you keep bringing that charming smile of yours,” you replied with a grin.

with a final, lingering touch, he intertwined his fingers with yours and led you out of the restaurant.

// 김 gyuvin.

as you sat on your plane seat, you decided to put on your favorite playlist, drowning out the noise of the plane engines with your favorite tunes.

beside you, gyuvin shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. he glanced over at you, an affectionate smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “hey, you,” he said, leaning in closer to you.

you looked up from your phone, surprised by his sudden closeness. “hey there,” you replied, taking out one earbud and offering him a curious smile.

“mind if i join your musical adventure?” he asked, gesturing to the empty seat next to you.

you grinned and removed the other earbud, handing it to him. “sure, pick a song.”

he scrolled through your playlist, his eyebrows raising in pleasant surprise. “you have great taste,” he noted before selecting a song.

as the music played, you both bobbed your heads slightly in time with the beat. the melody created a light, carefree atmosphere, perfect for the journey ahead. gyuvin leaned back in his seat, but his fingers couldn't seem to stay still. they tapped rhythmically against his thigh, his hand occasionally brushing against yours.

“you know,” he began, his tone casual, “ive heard that couples who listen to music together are destined to stay together.”

you chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. “is that so? and whos your source for this theory?”

he pretended to ponder for a moment, his lips curling into a mischievous grin. “well, the source might be me, but its still a valid theory.”

you playfully rolled your eyes, but a warm feeling spread through your chest. his playful nature was one of the things you loved most about him. as the music continued, gyuvins leg brushed against yours more frequently. he let his pinky finger graze against yours, his touch sending a tingle up your spine.

turning to him, you teased, “is this your subtle way of asking for affection?”

he chuckled, his cheeks taking on a faint rosy hue. “maybe just a little,” he admitted. “i mean, its a long flight. a guy needs some cuddle time, right?”

you laughed softly, your heart swelling with adoration for this man beside you. “well, i guess i cant argue with that.”

leaning a bit closer, gyuvin intertwined his fingers with yours, his touch warm and reassuring. “see, thats better,” he said with a grin. “much cozier.”

the two of you shared a comfortable silence, the music playing in your ears as the plane continued its journey. the sun had now fully set, painting the sky with shades of deep purples and blues. the cabin lights were dimmed, creating an intimate ambiance.

your boyfriend leaned his head against yours, his breath tickling your ear. “you know, i wouldnt mind if this plane ride lasted a little longer,” he whispered, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness.

you turned your head to meet his gaze, your heart fluttering at the affection in his eyes. “whys that?”

he shrugged, his lips curling into a tender smile. “just means more time for us to listen to music, share some cuddles, and maybe steal a few kisses.”

blushing, you leaned in, capturing his lips with your own.

// 박 gunwook.

you lay in your bedroom, your peaceful slumber untouched by the world around you. your room was like a haven of serenity, decorated with gentle shades of pastel and sunbeams filtering through the sheer curtains.

with you being unaware, gunwook has arrived earlier that morning. a playful smile danced on his lips as he watched you sleep, cherishing the quiet moments when he could admire your beauty without your witty retorts. he sat at the edge of the bed, his tousled hair giving him an endearing charm.

“gosh, youre so adorable when you sleep,” gunwook mused to himself, his voice a tender whisper.

a faint snore escaped you, and he chuckled softly. leaning in, he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. his fingers lingered on your cheek, caressing it ever so gently, as if he was painting his affection through touch.

your lips curved into a slight smile in response to his touch, even in your slumber. he leaned closer, his lips hovering just above your ear.

“hey sleepyhead, time to wake up,” he murmured, his warm breath tickling your skin.

you stirred, a sweet sigh escaping you. “five more minutes,” you mumbled, your words laced with sleep.

gunwooks fingers traced a delicate path down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. he chuckled again, the sound like a soothing melody. “you say that every morning, sweetheart.”

he let his fingers dance along your arm until they reached your hand. taking it in his, he gave it a gentle squeeze. “come on, the world is waiting for us today.”

you finally cracked open an eye, meeting his adoring gaze. “hmm, cant we just stay in bed forever?”

he laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with affection. “as tempting as that sounds, theres a whole day ahead of us. and ive got plans.”

your curiosity piqued, and you sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “plans? what kind of plans?”

gunwooks grin widened. “ah, thats a secret for now. but first, i need you to be fully awake.” he tugged playfully at your hand.

you smirked, a playful glint in your eye. “so, waking me up is just a ploy to get my attention, huh?”

he leaned in, his lips brushing your forehead in a soft kiss. “well, that and the fact that i missed you.”

your heart fluttered at his words, a warm feeling spreading through you. “okay, okay, im up. but only because youre cute when you're desperate for attention."

your boyfriend feigned shock, a hand placed dramatically over his heart. “desperate for attention? me? never.”

you both shared a laugh, the sound filling the room with joy. as you got out of bed, gunwook wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“ready for the adventures of the day, my love?” he whispered, his voice filled with anticipation.

you leaned back into his embrace, a content smile gracing your lips. “always, as long as youre by my side.”

한 yujin.

pages were turning, notes were being jotted down, and equations were being solved as you were studying for your upcoming exam. little did you know, your doting boyfriend had something entirely different in mind.

with a twinkle in his eyes, yujin strolled over to your table, his tall figure casting a gentle shadow on your books. “hey there, brilliant mind,” he whispered, his voice a warm caress against your ear.

startled, you looked up, a surprised smile dancing across your lips. “yujin, you scared me…”

he snickered, his fingertips tracing invisible patterns on your back as he leaned down to peck your cheek. “sorry about that, but i just couldnt resist interrupting your study marathon.”

you playfully rolled your eyes. “oh really? and whats the occasion?”

he smirked, his hand moving to ruffle your hair affectionately. “no occasion, just missing my favorite person.”

returning to your notes, you raised an eyebrow. “mhm, and how exactly do i know youre not just craving snacks?”

yujin leaned against the table, his elbow barely grazing yours. “well, i might be a bit peckish too, but mostly i wanted to spend some time with you. just the two of us and these captivating textbooks,” he winked, his voice dripping with playful sincerity.

you couldnt help but chuckle, your annoyance at the interruption melting away. “youre something else, yujin.”

he grinned, his fingers now drawing soft circles on the back of your hand. “thats why you love me, right?”

you sighed dramatically. “i suppose so. but only because youre cute.”

yujins laughter filled the air, warm and melodic. “ah, youve discovered my secret weapon.”

with a mock sigh, you finally surrendered, closing your book and turning your attention to him. “fine, you win. what do you want to do?”

his face lit up, clearly thrilled that he had your full attention. “how about a study break? we can explore that garden outside. i heard theyve got roses that rival your beauty.”

you playfully nudged his shoulder. “smooth talker, arent you?”

he winked, his fingers now tracing your palm. “only for you.”

as you both stood up, yujin took your hand in his, his grip gentle and warm. the two of you walked towards the french doors leading to the garden, your steps light and laughter echoing in the air.

the garden was a riot of color, with vibrant flowers swaying in the breeze. your boyfriends arm found its way around your waist as he pointed out various blooms, narrating stories about each one. you couldnt help but be charmed by his enthusiasm.

as you both found a cozy bench beneath a blossoming cherry tree, yujin pulled you close, his head resting on your shoulder. “you know, i think i could get used to studying like this."

you smiled, leaning into him. “well, its definitely more enjoyable with you around.”

he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his fingers idly drawing circles on your thigh. “ill always be here to distract you, you know that, right?”

you tilted your head to look at him, your heart swelling with affection. “yeah, i do. and i wouldnt have it any other way.”

© gvnvks 2023. do not copy or translate any of my works.