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#hair that splits off into the ends of plugs
cloudbattrolls · 26 days
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I had a board meeting in my brain and the council has decided to show one of the more bio forms of The Creature for increased awfulness value.
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wandasaura · 2 months
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WHAT DID I SAY
summary — the four times you fucked up and called your doms by the wrong name
warning(s) — college au, fuck-buddy relationships, marijuana use, alcohol consumption, face slapping, spitting, biting, body writing, restraints, spreader bars, mentions of branding, semi nipple torture, hickies, shotgunning, choking, butt plugs, spanking, ass biting, pussy slapping, doggy style, strap-on usage, cum-filled strap, fingering, oral, overstimulation, edging, orgasm denial, degradation, praise, daddy kink, mommy kink, captain kink, sir kink, literal filth, men/minors dni
authors note — first little headcanon/oneshot for know my place! hope you enjoy my little college stoners who fuck like rabbits. can totally be read seperate from the au!
know my place
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♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
Maria – 
The wine is warm beside Maria’s bed. The bottle of Prosecco momentarily forgotten about as a symphony engages beneath the darkness of night and blankets. It’s not often that Maria pulls the blankets overtop of herself as she works to unravel the intricate knots and coils in your belly, but she’s chosen tonight to share the beauty of your body with only herself and the silicone toy secured around her hips. Your moans are muffled by her skin, teeth embedded into her shoulder as she rocks the strap-on into you harshly, the bulbous head dancing along your cervix with every third stroke. She’s practiced in this tango, an expert in knowing your body, but the wine has impacted your reception to her actions, and as she pulls the strap out of you almost completely only to thrust back into you quick and harsh, a name leaves your lips that isn’t her own. 
Maria has never been soft with you in moments of time where some part of her body is buried within yours. She’s rough, and assertive, and entirely domineering as she splits you open and gives you only as much pleasure as she’s willing. With Maria, you’re never in charge. The cards are held tightly in her ironclad grasp and you’ve learned better than to try and guess that she’s holding. The wine however, has severely impacted your judgment. You’ve engaged in this dance for months now; been left with the bruises and aches of her touch for days afterward, and yet you’re disoriented enough to cry out for Wanda as she drills your sopping cunt so perfectly. 
“Mommy!” The title slips off your lips before you can search for the correct term that’s filed away in a section of your brain labeled ‘Masha’. Maria has never been Mommy, in fact, she’s always turned her nose up at the title and joked that Wanda’s entirely too harsh to be called something so maternal, and she’s less than amused when the five letter name falls onto her shoulders as she works to unravel you completely. 
Her hips stutter to a stationary position, the silicone dildo fastened around her hips deep within your pleasure soaked core, but unmoving and unwilling to start again. There’s a moment of silence that passes between the both of you; Maria’s eyes are hard, slitted and dark as she stares down at you in a drunken haze, brain struggling to process what you’ve just let slip. Your eyes are wide, light and soft as you meet her stare and attempt to win her forgiveness without seeing the repercussions of your actions. You were a fool to call her Mommy, but you were an idiot to think she’d let it go so simply. 
The silence that had fallen over you ended abruptly, replaced by the echoing sound of a sharp slap meeting your cheek and bouncing through the air before you’d had a chance to process the pain at all. Your head snapped to the side, your unharmed cheek pressing against her pillowcases that smell somewhat of smoke and vanilla. Your eyes pinch closed, anticipating the next hit that will land against your heated skin, but it never comes. Maria’s hand tangled into your hair instead, pulling your head back until your neck is craned and the expanse of your sensitive skin is exposed enough for her teeth and tongue to mark. 
“What’s my fucking name?” Her hips snap into yours with each word that she mutters against your neck, sharp bites and sensitive stings encasing your body in a delectable buzz of pleasure and possessiveness. You’ll bear these marks for days to come, indentations of her teeth and patches of purple from her lips adorning your skin that can’t be easily hidden with makeup or your longest turtleneck. Everyone who looks at you will know that you’d found yourself beneath a warm body and had been helpless to their assault, but only you’ll know that it was Maria Hill who had been your intimate attacker. Each lovebite that she presses into your skin is a subtle claim. You’re not Wanda’s in this moment, you’re not Natasha or Carol’s either, you’re entirely Maria’s and she’s reminding you of such as her hips drive hard against your own and the silicone strap that’s coated in your arousal attempts to bruise your cervix in the most addictively painful way. Each strong thrust sends you reeling farther into bliss, but she’s waiting for an answer and you’re not getting anything more until she hears you call her the right name. In her opinion, she’s being entirely lenient with you, there are a plethora of ways she can go about reminding you who you belong to, and yet your wrists remain unbound and your breasts remain unmarked by the leather of her favorite flogger that’s just an arms distance away. “Whats my fucking name, slut? Or do I need to carve it into you? How pretty would you be with my name on your thigh; ruined for anyone else who even tries to get between these legs? My little slut forever.” 
A strangled moan falls into the air as Maria sinks her teeth into the skin of your neck just beneath your ear, and your hands that have remained at your sides throughout this entire exchange shoot up to scratch at her back, blood bubbling to the surface as you spare to ounce of lightness to your touch. She’s marked you, now she’ll bear your marks for days to come. “S-Sir!” 
Maria hums, satisfied with your answer, but unwilling to forgive you completely. Her hips continue to pound into you until she reaches her high, thighs quivering as she moans in pure delight until she’s too sensitive to continue on with her ministrations. The strap-on leaves your entrance quickly, your overstimulated and sensitive walls pleading for it to stay, but Maria’s done for the night, and she’s decided that you are too. She reaches for the abandoned glass of wine, taking a sip smugly as she straddles your hips, damp toy splayed across your naked belly as your chest heaves and you look up at her pleadingly. 
“You’ll get to cum when I don’t have to remind you who I am.”
Natasha –
Natasha’s hips continue to rock into you even as she leans forward and captures your lips between hers. The room is filled with a thin layer of smoke, the scents of weed and sex entangling together and yet it's somehow entirely Natasha as you lay beneath her, willing to take whatever she wants to give you. Your head is fuzzy, filled with only thoughts of her and the lightness that the bud had brought over your senses. Her body is warm as her naked chest presses against yours, already marked by her passionate kisses and bites that will linger for days to come in secret. Her pupils are blown wide, a combination of her lust and the joint she’s rolled skillfully. Her fingers are educated in the art of many things, but unraveling you is one of her most prized hobbies. Her lungs are filled with smoke from the last drag she’s taken, and as the seconds linger on with her lips still pressed firmly to yours, unmoving but eager to claim you intimately, she exhales into your open mouth and forces you to take the smoke that she fills it with. It burns as you inhale, slipping down your throat smoothly and filling your own lungs, but it’s pleasant and you greedily allow her to continue until all that remains is an empty kiss that was once filled with weed. The smoke trails out in wispy strands of white and gray, and they dance between your faces until the open space claims it and the visual is gone. 
When she pulls away, there’s a devilish smirk on her lips that even another drag can’t erase entirely. She raises the joint to her lips again, eyes fluttering closed as she sits back on her heels, the cum-filled strap she borrows from Carol still buried within your walls and yet agonizingly still as she lets her head fall back in contentment. The cloud of milky white smoke that settles around her is entirely erotic, almost a halo of intoxication above her head, but there’s hardly a second for you to admire how ethereal she looks in this state before she presses into you firmly and resumes her rocking. Her pace is punishing albeit shallow, the tip of the strap-on hitting your perfect spot so softly it feels like butterfly sings batting against your skin, but she’s ruthless with her speed and the quick motions of her hips are enough to have you gripping at the sheets and looping your legs around her waist to draw her in deeper. 
Natasha laughs smugly at the sight of you so fried and desperate. She raises the joint to your lips with one hand, encouraging you to take a hit before her other hand wraps loosely around your neck. She doesn’t apply any pressure as you take a long drag, eyes fluttering closed as you involuntarily shiver at the taste lingering on your tongue, but the presence of her grip is enough to have your hips bucking into hers. 
“F-fuck sir!” You cry out when she obliges with your silent request and begins to thrust deeper into your core, the head of the toy pounding right against your sensitive spot with practiced ease as your head falls back against the pillows and your lips release the joint. A cough falls off your lips as you moan around the smoke in your lungs, eyes becoming watery from the burning sting, but you have no time to recover from the hit before Natasha’s hand is tightening around your neck and her hips are setting into you faster and harder. 
Her lips purse as she collects spit on the tip of her tongue, letting it fall against your flush cheek before she smears it down your neck, fingers that are still holding the lit join trailing across the expanse of your sensitive and worked over skin. She’s playing with fire now, quite literally, smearing her spit across your chest until she finds a home at your pebbled nipple and pinches roughly, but you have no ounce of self-preservation in your body as you watch the lit joint fall closer and closer to the marked skin of your chest as she tightened her grip on your neck and leans cynically close to your face. Her eyes are dark, clouded with lust and intoxication. Her hips have set a punishing pace and each time she drives the head of the strap into your g-spot your vision goes white with pleasure. 
“That’s not my fucking name. Are you really that much of a slut that you’re thinking about Masha as I’m fucking you. We can get Masha if you’d like, I’m sure she’d love to watch as I fuck you into my mattress until the only words you know how to say are Daddy please. I’m sure she’d love to lay between these legs and watch my cum spill out of you before I push it right back in and plug you up. Fucking whore. Is Daddy fucking you too good? Is that little brain so overwhelmed with pleasure that you don’t even know who’s fucking you?” Natasha lightens her grip on your nipple, bringing the joint back up to her lips before she drops it into the ashtray on her bedside table and grips the dildo, throwing her head back as her thrusts become choppy. “I bet you’d let anyone fuck this cunt. All you want is to cum. Fuck!” She curses as she drops her body against yours, lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss as she squeezes the shaft tightly, cum spurting against your walls and marking them with a milky whiteness. “Cum with me. Fuck!” 
With her permission, the coil in your belly finally snaps, and you arch into her touch as she rides out her own orgasm, the cum slipping down your legs and coating your inner thighs and her sheets. “Fuck Daddy!” 
“Good girl. Scream my name. Let Masha hear how good I’m making you feel.” 
Wanda – 
When Wanda invited you over to fuck, you’d anticipated something quick. What you hadn’t expected, was for her to bind your wrists to her headboard and force your legs apart with her recently purchased spreader bar. You’d been at her mercy for hours now, writhing on the bed beneath her as she took her time working you up. First it had been her fingers that dared to ruin you, the ringed digits slipping between your folds and teasing your clit and entrance until you were dripping onto the bed sheets and pleading with her to give you something more. She’d agreed easily, not even putting up a fight to prove her dominance over you. Those skilled fingers had turned into a skilled tongue. The hot muscle pressed against your clit, lapped at your entrance and slurped up the damp arousal that glistened beneath the moonlight that bled into the room from the open window. She was relentless in her teasing, and as overstimulated as you were beneath her touch, you were equally as frustrated. She’d been at it for hours, bringing you just close enough to taste the sweet relief of your orgasm before she pulled away and began the process all over again. You’d cursed her out six times since she started, and each time she merely chuckled against your core and slapped her palm down harshly against your cunt, sure to let her fingers brush against your clit for merely a second before it was gone and her tongue soothed the ache but brought nothing more. 
Your hands itched to tangle into her hair, and yet each time you reached for her you remembered how she’d so intricately bound you to the headboard with the softest rope in her collection. Your hips bucked upward as she pulled away again, your entrance clenching around nothing as your clit throbbed and protested. A broken cry fell off your lips as you shook your head frantically, needing her back on you and relieving the intense ache that she had single handedly created. Her lips and chin glistened with your arousal as she smirked down at you, the vibrating egg between her legs working her up to an orgasm you could only beg for. 
A whine rippled through your chest before it tumbled into the room, the words you’d been chanting for hours mangled and wrong as they came spiraling out fast and strung together. “Captain! P-Please!” Wanda growled lowly at the slip, her eyes dark and sinister as she leaned forward to grab your jaw and force your eyes on her. 
“What did you call me?” Despite how she articulated every syllable in the sentence, she wasn’t really looking for you to respond to her. In a swift motion, she’d reached across the bed to grab the panties that she’d pulled from your legs when you’d first joined her in the bedroom, and shoved them into your mouth. The balled up fabric was damp and uncomfortable as it sat on your tongue, but despite how hard you strained to force them away from your mouth, you couldn’t get them out with your arms bound and her body restricting your movements. 
Your eyes tracked her movements as she fumbled around in the drawers of her bedside table, thighs straddling your waist as she leaned forward and subsequently rocked the vibrating egg farther into her tight channel. She trembled in pleasure, but everything about her was always so perfectly kept that it was hardly noticeable to anyone who wasn’t you. Her rustling had lasted mere seconds before a black marker that had been used weeks prior to mark up a project poster now in her grip and uncapped. You had no idea what she planned to do with it, but there wasn’t any way for you to ask if you wanted to. You were helpless to watch as she slid down your body and dragged the inky tip across the skin of your breasts before moving downward. 
You gasped when the cold tip of the marker dragged across the skin right above your mound, thick black letters that you had to strain your neck to read lingering on your skin only to be gone when you washed your body of her touch later that night. ‘Mommy’s Slut’, was written just above your cunt, but Wanda wasn’t satisfied in stopping there. She dragged the felt tip across the inside of your thigh, holding your legs still as they wiggled away from the ticklish sensations she provoked. A thick arrow pointed straight at your weeping entrance, and Wanda was cruel enough to write, ‘cum slut’ at the tip of the arrow. A cry fell off your lips when she threw the marker onto the floor, and returned to her position between your legs. Her mouth was cruel as it worked you up to the edge, but unlike the times prior, she hadn’t stopped when you’d begun to wriggle around as an indication of your approaching orgasm. You fell over the cliffside in bliss, but that had only lasted long enough for your orgasm to crash over you and then she was gone, forcing you to ride it out with no further stimulation. 
A harsh slap met your sensitive cunt when you finally stilled on her bed, teary eyed and desperate for something more as you stared up at her with wide pleading eyes. Wanda wasn’t willing to comply however, and instead of satisfying you fully, she trailed harsh bites up your torso and between the valley of your breasts before her lips, still glistening with your arousal, found a home against yours. The dainty pink panties with a frail little bow on the waistband still between your teeth and properly wet from your saliva, but she hadn’t trailed so close to your face to kiss you. Instead, she settled her harsh glare on you, a sinister smile curling the edges of her lips upward as she let a damp finger stroke across your cheekbones, “I guess Mommy has to remind you of who you belong to. We’ll see if you deserve to cum in a few days.” 
Carol –
The buttplug is an added sensation that Carol uses to her advantage as she works to unravel you completely before you both have to leave for class. You’re not new to butt plugs, Maria’s quite the fan of them, but you’re new to them with Carol and the ways that she likes to toy with your stimulated body. You're on all fours in the center of her bed, knees sinking into the mattress as your hands grasp and twist at the comforter, absolutely desperate for relief that’s been slowly building beneath the surface. Her fingers are buried deep into your core, curling into your g-spot and massaging your velvet walls with pride. Her tongue circles the plug in your ass teasingly, and every couple of minutes when you least expect it, she presses against the base of the plug in tandem with her harsher thrusts before she scissors you open. 
Carol smirks against your ass as she sinks her teeth into your left cheek, her hand slapping down on you right just as she flicks her thumb over your clit. A muffled moan falls off of your lips as you bury your face into the comforter, your hips rocking back on their own accord as you attempt to chase after her touch, a strangled cry of, “Daddy more!”, vibrating your cheek as you twist your head to rest your cheek against the comforter and stare back at her. 
Carol is relatively unbothered by your slip of her title, but she doesn’t let it go entirely, not that you’re aware yet. Her fingers work into you easily, her thumb rubbing harsher, tighter circles around your clit until you're spasming on the bed. She smirks against the globe of your ass, her thumb pressing firmly against the plug with the hand that’s not buried between your thighs. “That’s not my name Princess and you know that.” Carol says smugly, grinding her hips down onto the edge of the bed as she chases her own relief, knowing there’s not enough time in the ten minutes she has left with you to reverse your position and have you go down on her. 
“Captain!” You cry out sharply, reaching your hand back to grasp onto Carol’s as the coil builds in your belly almost unbearably. The engineering major merely smirks, digging her teeth into your ass a final time before she encourages you to spill around her fingers. That’s all it takes for you to cave and tremble as she continues to scissor you open and curl her fingers into your cunt, but as quickly as your orgasm comes, she’s pulling away and throwing your clothes at your head. “You’re really going to go to class like that?” You question her, laying dazing on her bed as you twist onto your back and watch her run a baby wipe between her legs before she’s wiggling into a pair of fresh panties and reaching for her pants. 
“Yes, and so are you. Get up. That plug doesn’t come out until I take it out.” She says in the most unphased tone, reaching for the crewneck that’s been laying across her desk chair for days, not even bothering to reach for the bra that’s only inches away. 
“W-What?” Your eyes go wide as you sit up in bed, wincing slightly at the pressure in your ass as the plug presses against the inner parts of you sweetly, ropes of pleasure shooting through your core. 
“You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily, did you, Princess?” Carol merely winks before she’s flying out of the room, shouting that you have three minutes to meet her in the car before she leaves without you and makes you walk to class.
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hyunsvngs · 5 months
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what are ur hcs for skz with an s/o that drools a lot when being fucked🫣
(this can be as kinky as you want im a bit silly)
my baby @skzms helped me with this i love u sexy grill
chan: definitely makes his daddy kink go brrr. plugs your mouth with his thumb and is all like "you're going so dumb for daddy, silly little baby." oh boy. he thinks it's so cute!! sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and giggles every time you drool over his cock hitting that spongey lil spot inside of you. might even wipe it up and put his thumb into his own mouth oh
minho: he's a little condescending but also kinda sweet about it. all "aigoo, aigoo! you're making such a mess, kitty. messy little thing." and he'll wipe your chin clean before making you clean his hand off. maybe he'll finger you til you're drooling all over yourself before using it as lube for his cock to split you open.
changbin: ah he'd find it so cute. bini finds everything you do adorable!! if you drool on him while you're riding him, he'll do that little giggle and say "ah, binnie's baby's feeling good? is my dick making you feel good?" oh boy. he'll take over then, letting you just drool onto his beautiful honey toned skin until you're satiated:( he's so cutieful
hyunjin: laughs about it. he also finds it cute!! you're so cute drooling like that for him, he might even stop with a little shocked giggle like "really? it's that good?" and he's making fun of you but in an endeared way. you're really enjoying it that much? he can't believe it! he has to fuck you until you cum all over his cock now.
jisung: he's also drooling, so you can guarantee drooly messy kisses where you're both spitting and drooling into eachother's mouths. he wants you to ride him and practically drool into his open mouth, because he wants to do it too - he'll even bite your lip a little and your mouths will be absolutely soaking by the end of it.
felix: since i just answered an ask about dom felix... may was saying that felix would shove your face in the pillows and have the filthiest fucking grin on his face. laughs when you whine, and watches your drool make the biggest mark on his sheets.
seungmin: he's mean. pulling your hair back to make you look at yourself drooling in the mirror, wiping it off just to push a drool-slicked finger into your ass and make it hurt. laughs when it just makes you drool more. he definitely wants to make you drool all over his cock before he pushes it inside of you.
jeongin: finds it so hot. messy sex is jeongin's biggest kink, so he'll definitely grin and coo over you. "so messy! is my cock that good? you like it that much, yeah?" and he's being condescending but he doesn't even realise!! he'll let you drool all over his pillow and giggle about it afterwards and then jerk off thinking about how drooly you got for the next week.
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soobnny · 11 months
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summer strike — hwang hyunjin.
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trope. strangers to lovers. found family. comfort fic. heavily inspired by the kdrama
synopsis. having had enough of your life in the big city, you head to a small town where you meet a local librarian who feels a lot like love
word count. 23k words
warnings. drinking alcohol, curse words, mentions of loneliness
note. it’s out it’s out! this kdrama might be my favorite and means a lot to me so i just had to write something inspired by it. it’s basically the written form but condensed with a few changes so credits to the kdrama. i’d rly appreciate any feedback :)
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one.
It happened without warning.
As you stand behind the glass doors of the building you work at, rain splits before your eyes. Drip by drip, and then a downpour. You suppose you should’ve checked the Weathers app before deciding to work overtime tonight.
You ponder over waiting it out, but there is no place to go but the train station before it takes its last trip. It’s urgent to get back to your empty apartment where it isn’t rainy and it isn’t windy and the world isn’t ending. So, you run towards the only direction you know in this city, even as rain pours over the streets.
Your soles feel heavy by the time you arrive, but you don’t allow yourself the moment to rest as you swerve through the crowds of people to get to the train doors before it closes. You wish to see a time when silence ghosts the usually busy station, but you don’t have the time. You never do. Always rushing. Always tired.
The watch on your wrist reads 8:21, and it’ll only be a few minutes before a wave of office workers litter the narrow space of the train. When they finally do, the first thing you discern is their terrible body odor—dried up sweat with a tinge of alcohol. It no longer surprises you, so used to the fuckery that is your life.
Instead, you plug in your earphones to drown out their voices, listening to the kind of music that drags you back to a childhood memory. It sounds like popsicles, like wind blowing through your hair as you’re being pushed from the swing, like running on concrete barefooted, like the laughter of someone you love.
Now, you live in a city of strangers.
On the next stop, an old woman walks in. No one makes a move to give up their seat—too tired, too selfish, looking anywhere but the old woman. You think of how small humanity really is as you get up and gesture for her to take your seat instead. She has gone through too many years of her life to stand stuck between the terrible stench of office workers.
She holds a sweet smile as she thanks you. You don’t remember the last time someone smiled at you like that. Silver linings.
When you finally make it home, it’s nearly 9pm. This is what working 9-6 is like in the city. You live off your co-workers taking advantage of your work ethic, your boss’s bad breath yelling into your ear, and never coming home on time.
This has happened yesterday. It will happen again tomorrow.
It’s always the same. The same routine, over and over without progress. You feel like you’ve messed up somewhere. You used to have ambitions, but now you’re just a fragment of the person you used to be. The city was supposed to lead somewhere. It was supposed to be promising. But, the same tired eyes walk down the same path everyday in a dead end.
You don’t know where you went wrong.
You lay in your bed, still soaking wet, with a painful cry waiting to erupt from your throat. You hate that there’s no longer time to create happiness. It’s too late, and minutes from now, you will be asleep.
You stare at the ceiling, as you do every night before you fall asleep, and the only sounds that accompany you are the loud honks of the cars outside and your stomach grumbling. No one calls you to dinner. No one holds you to keep you warm.
It’s so lonely here.
The feeling of a hug is something you don’t see yourself remembering so you press your back further against your bed to mimic the feeling of an embrace. It doesn’t feel right, but it’s the closest thing you can get after the mistake you made of thinking you were made for the city.
Though, as you keep staring at the ceiling, you start to feel sick. You don’t think you can handle this rotting anymore. You refuse to believe this fate is by design, not when you feel like this. With tears you didn’t even notice dried up on your cheeks, you make a decision. There is nothing else you can do here, and this will be your last night in the city. So, you do something you have not done in years, you pull your backpack that’s been collecting dust and throw in as much clothes as you can.
You feel you’ve been cruel to yourself for allowing this to happen for years. The next day, you don’t wake up at the usual time. You spend the night in, and you quit your job once they call. They don’t deserve you there.
As for your belongings, you decided to only keep what could fit in your backpack. Cleaning up the house, you realized that you bought a lot of things; mugs you bought on a whim just because they were pretty, dishes that you only used once to host a house welcoming party, clothes you forgot even existed. The selection process was much more difficult than any job interview. Useless items got sold as soon as you posted them online.
You let go of your apartment and jump on the first train out, leaving behind the bustles and the buildings of the city. Seoul is too much for an unemployed person like you.
The sound of the train pollutes your ears as you step in, the voice of the intercom telling passengers to let people out first before walking into the train. And as the train moves away, you watch the city grow smaller and smaller. You don’t bother looking back.
The little town you're heading to is unfamiliar, but the path before is even more so.
There’s a heartbeat.
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two.
Nobody ever visits.
In the city, you learned early on that it was a dog eat dog world. Your kindness can only go so far until it becomes the perfect tool to take advantage of you. They liked to call it survival of the fittest, the Darwinian evolutionary theory. It’s something that’s taught early in high school, often forgotten the year after, yet it’s a theory you continue to use long after everyone else has moved on to other things in life. You’d always found it interesting how it flawlessly captured Seoul’s mechanism of natural selection—the one most adaptable to change is the one that survives.
Nobody knocks on your door to greet you there. Nobody wishes you well. For as long as you can remember, you’d always had to fight, always aboard a ship on rough waters that you’d almost forgotten how a quiet shore sounds like.
You suppose this is why there was no warning when a knock sounds on your door. You hadn’t expected anyone at your door.
The morning was spent carving out a new life for yourself in Angok, running away from the sounds of the city and exploring the place you’d soon call home. There aren’t many establishments here, most of them run by families who have been here far longer than you ever have. You take note of the small convenience store just where you live in case you were feeling too lazy to run to the farmer’s market just by the town center. Small things first, afraid to hear the bustle of buildings follow their way to where you are.
By 2 in the afternoon, you had retreated back to the small apartment you’d rented out. Outside, the wind was getting stronger, making the waves collide harshly with the shore. You think you’d have stayed out longer if the gust of wind hadn’t flapped your clothes around violently. Two in the afternoon, with nothing left to do, when the door knocks.
Knock, knock.
Your heart rate speeds up at the sound. Could the city have followed you all the way here?
With heavy feet, you fight against the voice in your head to greet whoever is at your door. By best case, they’d probably mistaken your quaint apartment for someone else’s.
You twist the doorknob carefully, door creaking when it opens and you’re met with the sight of someone with the most peaceful face and the most perfect set of teeth. His eyes are welcoming as he waves at you in greeting, hair messily swept back with a few strands falling on his forehead almost as if they were designed to be.
“Hi!” You squeak out, eyes nervously wandering back and forth between the man and what you could only assume was his parked truck just by the front of your apartment. “I think you have the wrong apartment.”
“Oh! My apologies. Is this not where (Name) lives?” Your heartbeat picks up its pace again, and your hand around the doorknob starts to feel a little clammy for the fear of his intentions.
“It is actually. Um, how do you know my name?” You try to mask the fear in your tone, but the man easily picks up on it. And if it wasn’t for the situation, you think you would’ve laughed when he comically takes long strides to back up a little bit. He looks silly with his widened eyes and parted lips.
“I’m sorry, that must’ve sounded really creepy. I’m Chan! I live just around here, and my mom just rented you this house? The previous owner ran away with all the furniture, so I brought some so it doesn’t feel so empty.”
Chan flashes you a bright smile, angling himself a little so his truck is in full view.
It solicits a sigh of relief out of you, gripping hand on the doorknob dropping as you feel a little safer. You’d been ready to shut the door. Almost defensive. Almost letting his words fall into mumbles.
“I apologize again. I didn’t mean to scare you.” His tone is soft, genuine even as he scratches the back of his head and bows a little. It’s a strange sight the man with the kind smile. Strange that it only occurs to you now how long you’d gone without seeing a smile so soft in a long time. After all your years in the city, you had almost forgotten the sight of genuineness being directed at you.
“It’s alright. I’m just… a little…” The words fall on your mouth. Frankly speaking, you don’t know how to explain your own behavior. Nervous? Afraid? Defensive? You don’t really know. You feel like a stranger in your own body.
Chan is quick to dismiss it when it seems that you don’t have the intention to finish your sentence. There is no pressure to come up with an excuse here. “Come in. The wind must’ve been harsh on you.”
Pulling the door back a little wider, you invite Chan into your empty apartment, and after asking you twice if it was okay, he finally obliges. As he makes his way inside, he takes the furniture he had brought with him—back and forth, and back and forth from the truck until everything was inside.
He doesn’t even let you lift a finger.
“Sit anywhere.” You make your way to your kitchen to grab him a glass of water, emptying the bottle you had just bought down to its last few drops. You try to take as long as you can in the kitchen in nerve of the small talk that was bound to happen when meeting strangers. Though, your walls start to look at you reproachfully, and you realize you’d been gone far too long to be called disrespectful.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” You hand him the glass, sitting adjacent to him. He simply shakes his head, thanking you instead as he takes the glass from you with both his hands, careful not to touch you in case it makes you uncomfortable.
“I hope this is enough.” Chan motions over towards the pieces of furniture he had brought with him—a couch, a few chairs, and a table for now. “I have some more, but it didn’t really fit in my truck.”
You allow yourself to smile at him, though your eyes fail to meet his for more than five seconds. You don’t know what to say, and something akin to an itch starts to eat at your brain the way a caterpillar does with leaves, one bite then another, pressuring you to say something to satiate the silence.
Chan saves your brain from being chewed away.
“I hope you don’t have a hard time settling in.” He finishes the water you’d offered him before he continues, “I live just 2 apartments away if you need anything. I’ll see you around?”
You nod your head, following him out of the door, and you can only hope you hadn’t scared him away already. You manage to meet his eyes one last time as you move to shut the door, polite smile on your face as he turns back one last time.
“Ah, before I forget… I noticed you had a lot of books with you. There’s a library just a few blocks away in case you were interested.”
“Oh. Thank you. I’ll be sure to check it out.” With one last bow, you gingerly close the door behind you as he finally drives off.
Chan. He feels comfortable despite only knowing him for a few minutes, almost like a caring older brother you never had. You hope to know him more.
As you turn back around, you look at your apartment a little more closely this time, inspecting how the pieces of furniture look, decorating what once was an empty space. It looks more like a home now. You should’ve thanked the man more, you fear you didn’t say it enough.
You brush the thought off and spend the rest of the day cleaning.
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three.
It takes you almost a week to go to the library Chan had suggested.
You had promised yourself to finish the book you brought with you first, before committing to new stories and new horizons. Though, it proved difficult as you have always been the type to take more than you can bargain for—purchasing books after books only to leave them behind on a dusty shelf.
But, new places call for new habits, and you vowed to leave that inclination behind.
When you step outside, a wispy curtain of clouds cover the skies. It’s a lovely weather to be outside in, with the summer breeze floating about. Not too cold. Not too sticky.
The air in the city has always been tangled with some form of pollution. Dirty and suffocating. It’s nice to have a change in pace. Being kind to nature, you find, has you reaping the benefits of basking in its beauty. They don’t litter her land with buildings here.
On the way to the public library, you pass by the market where a multitude of people line up, selling more than you can name—fruits and vegetables, homegrown plants, fish, textiles of clothing, brooms, almost everything.
The old and young gather alike, children running around to help their parents, office workers taking a break from their job to buy street food from the vendors. It’s colorful and vibrant, almost fiesta-like that only the people of Angok can radiate.
“(Name)?” A familiar voice has you ripping your eyes from an array of freshly baked cookies, turning towards the origin of the sound to find Chan waving at you.
“Chan, hi!” You reply shyly, yet a little less reserved than when you had first met him.
He looks the way he did a few days ago when he showed up on your door, though more sweaty as he puts down the final box of fruits they had loaded up on his truck. He’s dressed in a loose tank top, you assume to be more efficient in his job, and the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead are more visible the closer he gets to where you’re standing.
Chan definitely stands out with his height, and the way he smiles so easily.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, hands wiping at the side of the shorts he’s wearing.
“I’m actually going to the library… the one you talked about. Though, I’m not quite sure I’m headed the right way?” You try to mask your embarrassment with a short laugh, and his eyes brighten at the way you had taken his suggestion.
His stature lights up in the same manner, clasping both his hands together and replying, “Ah, if you can wait a minute, I can walk you there. I have to deliver a box of oranges there, anyway.”
“Really? I’d really appreciate that actually. Thank you.” You smile politely, and he gestures for you to follow him back to his truck where a man is waiting for him.
The stranger is carrying way more than he should be, about to jokingly boast about his strength to Chan when he takes an abrupt step. An earthquake rumbles in the way a box falls from his shoulders, hitting the pavement and bursting open—almost in slow motion as apples and oranges roll out.
“Shit!” He exclaims with his whole chest, and he immediately bows in apology at the elders around him who look disapprovingly at his choice of language.
“Ah, Jisung.” Chan mumbles, jogging forward to grab the fallen fruits that are still rolling on the pavement. A few onlookers help, much to the embarrassed boy’s dismay, and you quickly bend down to grab at the ones nearest to you.
“Sorry.” His tone is abashed, loading fruits back in the box and setting it aside. Chan simply pats him on the back in fondness.
“Wait, who’s this?” It’s only now he notices you, standing behind Chan with a few fruits in your arms which you hand to him. “Wait, wait, wait. I know, wait give a second.” He continues.
You can hear a faint chuckle from Chan.
“You’re (Name)! Right? You recently moved here?” The sheepish grin on his face is quickly replaced with a look of interest tangled with excitement, forgetting about his ordeal with the fruits in favor of greeting you.
You wonder if news travels as fast as his expression changes in this little town.
“Woah, easy Ji. You’re gonna scare her.” Jisung takes a step back, suddenly aware of how much personal space he’s taking away from you.
“I’m Jisung, Chan’s super handsome and cool friend.” His enthusiasm makes up for his clumsiness, waving at you before suddenly grabbing a plastic container from a big blue cellophane sitting by the side of the box he had dropped. “Here, my mom’s taking up an interest in baking lately. She’s not very good, but please have it as a welcoming gift from me.”
You take the container from his hands, bowing in thanks before meeting his crinkled eyes. Does this boy ever stop smiling?
“Thank you, really. I’d introduce myself but, it seems… you already know my name.”
His unwavering kindness takes you by surprise, just like everyone else in this village. And you’re about to thank him again when he excuses himself to help who you assume to be his mother, who is grumpily carrying a new batch of her baked concoctions.
“So, the library?” And then it’s Chan’s smile again. This time, he has with him a small box of the oranges he told you he’d deliver. You snap out of your far-away look to follow him through the streets.
It’s a short walk, brisker than you thought, and Chan sets the box down on a wooden table just outside of the public library where a young man waits for him—impatience clear on his face.
“Finally. Took you long enough, old man.” The boy opens the box, grabbing an orange from the pile and inspecting it before letting out a satisfied hum when it seems to have met his criterion.
“What do you even need all these oranges for, anyway?” Chan inquires, looking down at the crouched figure of the boy.
“Oranges have vitamin C, which plays a major role in preventing age-related mental decline.” He states matter-of-factly, standing up from his previous position. “Something you can’t relate to, obviously.”
The older boy doesn’t take anything to heart. Instead, you find the same fondness on his face, the one he wore when Jisung had dropped that box earlier.
“Well, I’ll get going then. Will you be okay here?” Chan looks back at you, a huge question mark of an expression decorating his features to ask if it was alright for him to get back now and leave you there.
The younger boy is long gone now, having retreated back into the library with his oranges.
“Oh, yes, yes, of course, sorry. Thank you again.” You smile, and he continues to wave goodbye until he’s no more than a distant figure.
The building is three stories tall, and you have to walk a flight of stairs to get to the library on the second floor. But it’s quiet, and you liked the change of pace from the vibrancy outside to the sudden tranquility inside.
It provides a safe barrier for when you want to be alone with your thoughts, something you never had in the city.
The inside of the library is cold, but the sun reflects through the panels of the windows just right so that it isn’t freezing. It’s as inviting as it is outside, and you’d go as far as saying the friendliness of the library was similar to that of Chan’s warm welcome for you. It isn’t the biggest room, and its run-down nature was particularly striking, but it isn’t something you mind. The cheap furniture and the slight discoloration of wood gave the place a character of its own—like this library has stood for generations and has protected centuries worth of knowledge from the books it holds.
It reminds you of a scene from Avatar the Last Airbender, when they find a lost library with all the knowledge in the world. And the boy with the obsession for oranges can be Wan Shi Tong, the giant owl spirit who’s tasked with collecting information and protecting the Spirit Library.
The door sounds and the floor beneath you creaks as you walk through the room. Though, it isn’t loud enough to catch the attention of the boy you had seen earlier, or as you liked to call him, Wan Shi Tong. He simply calls out an obligatory “welcome”, before going back to the book he’s reading.
The closer you got to the shelves, the more it smelt of books. It’s a nice addition to the ambiance, the scent of pages roaming around and escaping past the ventilation.
You go through the bookshelves, hand moving along their spines. So many books and every single one you wanted to read, even those in foreign languages.
You like this place, you decide. It’s filled with a quiet that allows breathing space, not simply an absence of noise, but a comforting stillness that isn’t easy to replicate. You might come here more often, make it part of a new routine you’re crafting for yourself.
Back in Seoul, you woke up at 6am like clockwork. You shower, eat when you can, go to work, overtime, and go home. Repeat. It’s to the point of exhaustion that the first time you slept in felt like your body was catching up on all the rest it’s been denied, and now it’s being given a space to breathe.
Reaching the end of the shelves, you’re subjected to the sight of broad shoulders and long black hair, standing still as the figure moves to return some books into their slots. They must work here. Should you inquire about how to make a library card? They already seem way friendlier than Wan Shi Tong.
“Excuse me miss?” They give no sign of having heard you. “Miss?”
When he turns around, you’re thinking of all possible ways to move out at this very instant. The boy, whom you had mistaken for a woman, looks at you with slightly widened eyes as if not having expected you to have spoken to him. While that isn’t reason enough to warrant your sudden thoughts of running away, his beauty surely is.
He’s hypnotizing, a beauty that Aphrodite must’ve blessed upon him, the kind that leaves a lasting impression. You’ll meet him once and never forget about him. His hair falls perfectly just above his shoulders, and a mole sits on his face like it was always designed to be there.
You’re embarrassed—if calling him miss wasn’t enough, you’re unsure if the staring did anything to help. Without another glance, you bow and mutter a quick apology before turning to walk away from where he’s stood.
“I’m sorry.” You say, for extra measure even when your back’s already turned from him.
Wan Shi Tong it is.
“Hello.” You speak quietly, and the boy once again looks up from his book. He looks like he’s studying for something.
“How can I help you?” He doesn’t have that false customer service voice, the one that’s overused and far from genuine. Instead, he speaks to you with a sort of passive tone—but it’s not too much that it sounds condescending.
“How do I make a library card here?”
He puts down his pen. “You need an address in Angok for that.”
“Ah, I do have one.” You smile, a little shy, yet relieved that your sudden intrusion of their village hasn’t spread to the entirety of the population yet.
“Did you move here?” He inquires, to which you nod your head in response. “Hm, alright. Hyunjin will help you make one. I’m Seungmin, by the way.”
“(Name).” You introduce yourself back, thanking him for his help as you turn around to only be greeted by Aphrodite’s son, though, you suppose you now know him as Hyunjin.
You can do this.
Hyunjin quickly makes his way behind the desk on the seat next to Seungmin’s so he can hand you a piece of paper you assume you have to fill out for the library card. Though, he still doesn’t say a word. He only points at the parts you need to fill in before going back to another one of his tasks behind the computer screen.
It’s hard not to look at him, and you’d lie if you said you didn’t feel anything when he looked back at you. Though, the feeling is overpowered by the embarrassment of possibly causing him any form of discomfort. You don’t want it to eat away at you until you’re avoiding the library.
You don’t want to avoid the library.
“By the way…” You start suddenly, keeping your voice down. “I’m sorry again for… earlier.”
Silence greets you, as he panics to grab the tiny camera for your library card. “And thank you for helping me right now.”
You seem to only be digging deeper and deeper into your own grave when he still doesn’t respond to you, simply stares as he bows his head slightly to acknowledge you. And it seems that awkwardness spreads like a virus when Seungmin’s head peeks from his book to witness the funny exchange before him. He looks like he’s trying his best to not laugh at whatever the hell is happening.
Then a shutter sounds as you’re filling up your paperwork, unaware he’d already taken your picture. You can only let out a nervous laugh to try and mask the silence that suddenly feels a little suffocating under the prying eyes of Seungmin.
“Here you go.” You hand over the piece of paper, and Hyunjin gives you a printed out library card in return. “Thank you.”
You suppose you can come back the next day to actually start reading. Meeting four new people and embarrassing yourself on top of everything is a little taxing, and you know the weather outside and the pretty cherry blossom trees will help put your mind away enough that you’ll feel better by tomorrow.
The bell rings as you leave, just as it did when you entered and you find yourself smiling at the breeze and the possibility of new friendships.
You told yourself to live a life you won’t regret.
You can do it.
There is excitement when you think of what will happen from now on. Time is all you have now.
As you walk outside, you map out where Chan had led you earlier to make it back to your rented home. If you were gonna come to the library on most days, you might as well have the path memorized until you can guide yourself there blindfolded.
You feel something fluffy just by your legs before you see it, eyes too focused ahead to only now realize you’re being followed by a long-haired Chihuahua. A chuckle escapes your mouth as you bend down to greet the dog. “Hello there, who are you?”
A bark follows, but not a threatening one.
“Come here.” He follows, little paws jumping up to rest on your bent knees with a wagging tail. Almost immediately, you coo at the sight, supplying him with all the head rubs he could possibly ask for.
“Where did you come from, hm? Why are you all alone?” The pitch of your voice is definitely higher, speaking to the dog with a tone similar to one you’d use when talking to a baby. “So cute.”
“I’ll get going now, okay? Go back home too!”
Four padded steps continue to follow you, and the culprit is exactly who you think it is.
“You can’t follow me around. You have to stay here!” Phony scolding, to try and get the dog to stop following you. You don’t want their owner to worry.
“Hey, stop following!” You laugh, starting to jog away from the chihuahua, but he refuses to listen. Instead, he starts running to keep up with you. “Stop it!”
Turns out, it’s hard to convince a dog to stop following you. Especially when he’s made his way into your own home, walking with you for the entirety of your path. The little dog doesn’t have a tag, no owner to contact, and it’s nearing night that you don’t feel safe letting him sleep outside in the inky dark. So, you invite the dog inside who walks around like he owns the place.
You sigh, though never one of indignation, as you sit down on the couch Chan had lended you, and the chihuahua quickly follows to lay himself on your lap. Curled up. Safe.
“What should I call you? Hm? You’re pretty stubborn.” You look down at the dog who’s looking back at you as if having understood anything that you’re saying. “Berry? No?”
It takes you a couple more tries before deciding on Kkami—when the chihuahua’s tail starts wagging aggressively and he attempts to lick your face at the mention.
“Okay, Kkami then. You like that? Hm?”
Your night routine doesn’t change much, there’s just an addition of a curled up Kkami sleeping beside you on your bed. But, you find that you don’t mind it one bit. It’s less lonely like this, and it’s nice to have some company.
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four.
You return to the library’s stillness the next day after finishing up some chores—the laundry, the cleaning, everything. Washing your clothes was something unfamiliar to you, as you’d always just sent them to the laundry services near the place you stayed at. There was never time to do them yourself.
It’s a totally new experience when all you have is time now. You keep burning the food you make, but eat it the same. And hanging up your wet clothes outside took forever, but you manage. You just have to remind yourself there’s a book waiting for you in the public library.
The walk to the library is easier now, but the commotion you’d caused yesterday still echoes in your head. It engraves itself even as you make it to the door, hand hovering over the handle. But, there’s no point in delaying. You’ll be here most days so it’s best not to avoid anyone. So, without another thought, you open the door and step into the quiet of the library.
The bell rings as it always does.
“Welcome,” is what Seungmin says, just as he did yesterday. You greet him back, smiling politely as you make your way to the shelves. The room is almost empty. There’s only one other person in the library, a book with black hair on his own table, and he seems to be in his own world.
Hyunjin is also seated at a table, books and paper plastered on the wooden surface as he repairs torn pages. An uninterrupted routine he’s probably grown accustomed to.
“Hello.” You decide to greet the boy as you pass by the table he’s occupying. His hair is swept back today, and it looked like it smelt good.
His eyes light up when he sees you.
“You’re hello again.” He tilts his body so he can look at you, bowing a little. Though, his words come out croaked, and you’re unsure if you heard him right.
“Sorry?” Hyunjin doesn’t repeat himself. Instead, his face grimaces at how he had failed to utter the phrase he had practiced—hello, you’re here again.
But it isn’t his choice of words that surprises you, it’s that he spoke to you at all. His tone is soft, and completely unexpected after the silence you had received the day before. It’s the first words he ever tells you, and you find yourself smiling at the small progress.
A voice in your head tells you that you want to know him more.
So, after a few days of fleeting eye contact and small smiles from afar, you decide to come back to the library.
The afternoon air outside is beautiful, as it always has been when you walk outside, and there’s a mental checklist you go through in your head. Forgetting is so easy, so you try not to.
Buying Kkami dog food was first on the list of things you have to do on your way home from the library. The little chihuahua doesn’t seem to mind being left behind. In fact, Kkami loved his little space on the couch. Though, you still promise to be back as soon as possible, wanting to walk him outside while the sun is still up.
Hyunjin is seated at the same table as he did when he first talked to you, books and pages neatly plastered again when you walk into the library.
Today, you’ll try your second attempt at talking to him.
“Do you… repair all the books yourself?” You ask, looking down at the multitude of pages he’s tending to and the stack of books waiting to be repaired in a trolley parked at the side of his table.
“Yes.” He smiles upon answering, and it’s one that radiates pride in the work he does.
Your lips quaver slightly, trying to find words to say to him. You wonder if it’d be okay with him if you wanted to help out. The work looks interesting, and a little soothing. Would that make him uncomfortable?
Fiddling with the ends of your shirt, you stab your hesitance straight in the chest. “Can I try too?”
His mouth falls agape, and then he’s nodding his head, gesturing for you to take the seat adjacent to him. Hyunjin grabs an extra spatula, passing it to you before smiling shyly down at the books and pages.
“You take the spatula, and spread the glue evenly.” Hyunjin looks up at you before grabbing a page and his own spatula so you can mimic his gestures. “Then, you place the page at its original location.”
He closes up the book he’s working on, patting down at the spine so the glue sticks well. “That’s it.”
“Oh.” You look at his work with fascination, smiling as he sets the book aside. “You’re kind of like a doctor. It’s like you’re applying medicine to the books.”
He grins at your words, eyes averting from your eye contact as he shyly grins. You know he has pure love for what he does, and it warms your heart. It’s a sentiment you wish you had for your job back then.
“I think…” You fix your gaze to your hands that are propped on the table, intertwining your fingers together. “I’m in love.”
Hyunjin’s inability to look you in the eyes seems to falter the moment you speak. His mouth falls back into an ‘o’, and the tip of his ears are awfully red.
“Wait, sorry. What I mean is… I think I’m in love with the process of fixing up old things.” With slightly widened eyes, you gesture at the book he had just fixed cartoonishly, chewing on your lips a little embarrassedly.
The boy in front of you nods, fingers pausing over his task; you turn to look at him, and you’re relieved to see his smile returning.
“I see.” He chuckles, grabbing onto the pages that still need to be glued and grouping them together, tapping them lightly on the table so they align.
“Let me help you.” You reach out to the remaining pages, and Hyunjin looks at you with an expression you don’t quite recognize, but you know has no ill-intent. He always looks this way. Always natural, never forced.
As you quietly work on the task, Hyunjin can’t stop himself from looking at you from time to time. He thinks it’s to monitor your work, but does that excuse the way he stares at the small smile tugging on your lips?
“Has anyone told you how you resemble Aphrodite?”
“Me?” He asks, eyes darting you and the book he’s working on. You grin at him, nodding your head.
“Yes. Goddess of Beauty in Greek Mythology. You know her, right?”
“I do.” He smiles back easily, willing the blush that’s obviously creeping on his cheeks away.
“When I first met you, that character came to mind.” You mumble as you stare at the page in your hands, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to match it to its proper book. You pause, catching yourself before you can misplace the page, and Hyunjin looks up at the sudden silence.
“Which one was this again?” Sheepish. You think you’ve embarrassed yourself more times than not in this library.
You don’t notice Hyunjin leaving his seat, sauntering over to where you’re seated so he can peer at the page and at the books in front of you. “May I?”
His tone is kind, and it didn’t seem as if he were upset that you didn’t know where to put the page. On the contrary, he made you feel as if it was okay that you didn’t know. Quick to reassure.
“I don’t memorize all of these either. I only remember the names and places in the books, and I like drawing to keep an image of them in my head too.” He’s arranging the pages now, putting the corresponding paper atop the book they belong to. “Why don’t you try this one?” The way he says it is so full of expectation, leaning down to hand you a page and you can only smile up at him.
“I’ll give it a try.” You sputter out for words to say, taking the page from him gratefully.
Seungmin watches from a distance, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity as he observes his usually quiet friend speak more words than usual. Though, the observation makes his heartstrings contract.
It goes on like this for a while, silence engulfing the pair of you as you work to repair the books together. Hyunjin showed no signs of you being a bother to him, even reaching out to help most of the time—appreciative of your time. No sound follows, just the beating of your hearts and the rustling of paper.
Until a loud bang rumbles in the sky, interrupting the four of you in the room (even the freckled boy at the corner table who is at the library again today).
Your reaction is instantaneous, jumping back in surprise at the sudden interruption of silence, but a smile replaces the initial shock when you see the gentle pitter patter of rain from the windows.
Hyunjin slips himself out of his seat, rushing to close them so the books don’t get wet as Seungmin goes to help, all while you stare at the drizzle.
You’re reminded of the last day you stepped foot in the city.
“Oh!” You suddenly exclaim when the sound of the rain increases in volume. The burst of rain as the sky splits open reminds you of your laundry and how the initial heat they absorbed must’ve been washed off by the rain.
“I have to go.” You quickly excuse yourself from the boy who has just returned from closing the windows, smiling for the last time before rushing down the stairs to start heading home. Though, you falter in your step. You don’t have an umbrella with you. Should you just make a run for it? You think the jacket you’re wearing can help at least a little bit.
You sigh, about to step into the rain when a hand reaches for your shoulder. Warm and gentle, almost feather-like even. You spin around, only to be met with Hyunjin’s goddess-like features.
“Hyunjin?”
He clears his throat, pulling out his umbrella before handing it to you. “Use this. You’ll get sick.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I can just use my jacket!” Hyunjin doesn’t seem to budge at your rejection, simply smiling as he places the umbrella in your grasp.
“I think an umbrella will do a better job than your jacket.” You laugh a little, not knowing he was capable of teasing. It was cute. He was cute.
“Thank you! I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.” You don’t know why your heart is thumping so fast at the small gesture, but you reason it’s because you’re worried about your laundry. Though, a voice in your head is telling you that’s not quite the answer.
He disappears back into the library, and you shield yourself with his umbrella as you sprint back home to tend to your now wet clothes. The rain smelt acidic as you put away your clothes, setting them aside as the sun seems still so far away in the distance. You’ll hang them back outside when the heat returns.
“Did the thunder scare you?” You pick up Kkami in your arms, cradling him as you try to shield him away from the sudden loudness of thunder and lightning. “I’m sorry I couldn’t walk you out in the sun today.”
The rain is louder in your house, and it’s only when your own stomach grumbles do you remember you were supposed to buy Kkami dog food on your way back home.
Forgetting is so easy.
“I’ll go buy you some food, okay? You must be starving.” You rub the back of his ears, setting him down on the couch before grabbing the umbrella Hyunjin had lent you once again. Though, thankfully, the downpour stops just as quickly as it had started. You’re already inside the family-run convenience store near you when the sky clears out and the sun starts to peek behind the clouds again.
“What can I get you?” You turn to find a shorter man emerge from the back of the store, warm smile etched on his face as he pads his way to where you’re standing.
“I hope the rain wasn’t too hard on you.” He continues. His tone is kind as he waits for you to reply.
“Ah, it was okay.” Though initially caught off guard at the sudden presence, you return the smile gently. “I was wondering if you had any dog food?”
“We do!” He heads to a corner, and the way he grabs the bag of dog food punctuates his arms that you can only now see how big they are. His jawline is sharp too, noticing it the moment he turns that his side profile is visible to you.
He leans down to scoop up the bag in his arms, before heading back to you. “You’re the one who recently moved here, right?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?” You hand him your payment before taking the bag in your arms, hugging it so the weight isn’t as heavy.
“Chan mentioned. I’m Changbin.” Changbin takes your payment, returning to you the change. “I hope we can be good friends.”
“(Name). It’s nice to meet you. I’ll… get going now!” You motion at the dog food in your hands, to tell him you still had a pup to feed at home before waving goodbye as you hurry back to your house.
There’s almost no rain now, the only sign that it had even drizzled was the acidic smell, the puddles that had formed on the concrete overtime, and the gentle trickle of water from one leaf onto the next.
Kkami is waiting for you at home. No one used to wait for you before.
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five.
You come back to the library the next day, just like you said you would. This time, Kkami walks with you to make up for not being able to take him out under the sun yesterday. Though, you don’t expect the handwritten “temporarily closed” sign to be the first thing that greets you as you head for the door.
You place Hyunjin’s umbrella just by the handle, almost in an awkward manner as you continue to peer at the piece of paper taped on the door.
“They both went to Seoul for Seungmin’s test.” A voice behind you averts your attention to the same freckled boy from yesterday.
“Ohh…” You respond, nodding your head in understanding as you walk over to where he’s seated just outside the public library. “I was just gonna return Hyunjin’s umbrella.”
Felix seems surprised, but it only triggers his smile to grow wider than it already is.
“I’m Felix.” You blink slowly, shaking his hand when he stretches it out for you to take. When your hand meets his, he pulls you down to sit next to him. “And who’s this little boy?”
“This is Kkami.”
Felix is a nice guy, pulling Kkami up to cradle him in his arms. The first thing that catches your attention is his freckles—like constellations in the night, littering his face like stars do the sky. You love the stars, though, you don’t see much of them in the city because of the polluted air and the abundance of lights from the buildings that line up.
The boy resembles the very comfort you find in the cluster of stars, a calming quality in him as he smiles down at your dog.
But, just as much as he resembles the stars, he smiles like the sun. Perhaps it's the way his eyes form crescents and the way his lips curve that trigger the sight of the sun. But he’s blinding in the most calming way possible.
“Do you have somewhere else you need to be?” He asks, shots of espresso in the way he speaks. Deep and reverberating. How fitting the way his voice wakes you up like the sun.
“I think I’m just gonna walk Kkami around.”
“Do you mind if I walk with you a bit?” Felix puts your dog down, tilting his head to look at you that radiates so much friendliness. “I don’t really know what to do with the library closed.”
He offers like he’s already your friend.
You knew it was an exaggeration to call him a friend right away, but for you it was just that. Especially when he walks by your side, laughing and talking to you as if he’d known you forever.
“You know, it’s nice to hear Hyunjin talk more.” His lips curl into a lovely smile as he continues to accompany you and Kkami in your walk.
“What do you mean?” You ask, eyes trailing down to Kkami who’s padding ahead of the two of you.
“He doesn’t do too well with strangers, doesn’t even talk a lot with me. I think he’s only ever truly warmed up to Seungmin, so it’s nice to just hear him more.”
You blink in surprise at his words before lifting your hand to where it was staring at Kkami in favor of looking at Felix instead.
“Oh.” You don’t know what to say or how to respond to the sudden revelation he’s laying down on you, and he throws his head back in laughter at your speechlessness.
“Don’t worry, I just felt the need to tell you. You don’t have to say anything.”
It goes on like this more—Felix initiating conversation and talking about almost everything until he has to go home. You end your walk with an exchange of numbers and a promise of ice cream the next time you come to the library together.
When you get home, it’s already 6pm. Kkami falls asleep almost right away, and you’re left to do the little chores you have left for the day. You wonder what you’ll have for dinner.
You’re in the middle of preparing a meal when your phone buzzes where you left it.
Ring, ring.
Your brother never calls anymore. So when you receive a call, you weren’t expecting to find his caller ID on the screen. You thought it was gonna be Felix who forgot to tell you something.
“Hello?” You’re the one who speaks first.
You're a ball of nerves wondering why he’s calling you right now.
“Hey (Name). Are you doing okay?”
“Hey, is something wrong?”
“Hm? Can’t an older brother call his sister to check on her?” There’s a scuffle in the background of his end.
“You never call.” You say quietly, picking at the ends of your shirt as you stare at nothing in particular.
“Oh, hah. Well, the thing is… can you lend us some money? You can sell the ring mom gave you. Itt’s just… our son, all his friends are studying abroad every vacation, but he never went.”
Your brother sounds shameless in his request, as if your mother hadn’t given him everything when she passed. All you have left of her are pictures in your head and the ring she had gifted you. You’ve never worn it, but you kept her going-away present. It’s the only thing you have left of her, and it hurts that your brother even thought of selling it just so his son could go on a trip abroad.
This ring meant something to you. Something more than a trip to him.
“Is this your wife’s idea? Does she want me to sell the ring mom gave me?”
“That’s not it.” He sighs exasperatedly, and you know he’s running a hand down his face at how this conversation is going. “Don’t you feel bad that your nephew is losing confidence because he’s never been abroad before?”
“Hey…” A lump forms in your throat, the familiar hands of pain wrapping around your neck to strangle you into tears. “Do you even… know how I’m living right now?”
Your voice cracks, choking on your own words to know that your brother only calls when he needs something. He doesn’t care. He never has. A sob is brewing in your throat.
“I do! But…” He’s getting defensive now, voice raising so he can try to get his non-existent point across. “My family is short on money right now.”
Family. The word is unfamiliar. It left you the moment your mother passed, replacing itself with loneliness. With emptiness. The unfamiliarity makes your face scrunch in the way it does before a hideous sob leaves your mouth, but you will yourself to get yourself together. Just for another minute, while you’re still on the call with him.
“Am I not family?” You mumble almost incoherently.
You don’t think you can handle talking to him any longer, not when he treats you like a bank account he can solicit money from anytime. Not when the first call you receive from him in years is that of asking you to sell your mother’s ring, not even to ask if you were alright, how you were doing.
The strangers in Angok treat you far better than your own brother.
You hang up before he can say anything else.
He has already caused you unbearable pain, and the reminder of how alone you’ve been. You want the pain to go away, you’ve worked too hard only to let it come back in full force. And there is only one way you know that can take it all away, even just temporarily.
It’s how you find yourself at Minho’s small restaurant, two bottles of Soju empty, and a disoriented haze of the place around you.
Minho doesn’t make it a habit to stick his nose in anyone’s business, but when your wobbly legs attempt to grab a third bottle of Soju, he’s hurrying by your table to stop you. “I’ve just made up a non-existent rule that you can only have two bottles.”
He takes it away from you, and you immediately pout when he does, a whine brewing in your throat. You try to imitate the way Puss in Boots looks, when he widens his eyes to get what he wants, but to Minho—you just look absolutely ridiculous.
“I’ve never heard of that rule before.” You mumble dejectedly, staring at the Soju bottle that Minho’s whisking away and putting back.
“It exists now because you’re piss drunk, and I don’t know how you’ll be getting home.” He says, tone softer than it was when you had first walked in ordering your first bottle, as if not wanting to startle you.
“I’m not drunk!” You blink rapidly, abruptly getting up to which Minho sits you back down so you don’t topple over your own clumsy feet. He mumbles something about getting you water.
“Everything just looks funny right now.” Your words come out in a slur as you look at your surroundings with a curious eye. “But I’m not drunk.”
When he returns, you have your head rested on the table, cheek mushed against the surface as your eyes droop a little in sleepiness. Though, there’s an addition of someone new in his shop. Hyunjin looks at you confused, before he fixes his gaze on Minho as if asking him why you were moping around at one of his tables.
“Don’t look at me. I don’t even know who this is.” Minho says in mock surrender, though, it doesn’t take long before his features mimic that of a Cheshire Cat. “You’ll take her home safely, right?”
Minho quickly ushers the pair of you out, waking you up and pushing you in the direction of Hyunjin who holds out his arms in case your feet decide not to cooperate with you. He needs to close his shop.
“Are you okay?” His arms are still hovering around you, not quite touching you, but prepared to if you ever fall forward.
“Hyunjin? How did you come to find me from so far away?” Your eyebrows furrow together as you stare at the boy beside you, as if there was no way he was real and with you right now.
“I’ll walk you home, okay?”
“I’m a bit drunk. I’m a little bit drunk right now.” You mumble, head still hazy as your eyes blink blearily, feeling the need to inform him. Your legs feel extra wobbly.
“Right. Are you okay?” He pulls you back to his side when you stumble a little too far away, soft tone never changing. He looks at your puffy eyes in curiosity, frowning as he thinks of all the possibilities as to why you had been crying.
“Goodness.” You exclaim in your half-conscious state when you almost trip on something, immediately reaching to what’s nearest to you—Hyunjin’s arm.
“Hyunjinnieee…” You start to sway where you’re walking, clearing your throat as Hyunjin is left predicting what your next move is going to be (on top of wondering why your eyes are red and stingy).
Though, he most definitely doesn’t expect you to start singing.
“Why do you appear before my eyes whenever I’m drunk?” It’s loud, uncharacteristic of the you he’s met, and your arms are flailing around as if to act like a conductor in your own orchestra of sounds.
“You’re going home now, okay?” Your smile is loopy as you nod at his words, continuing to sing the same one line over and over again while skipping in your step.
Hyunjin is attentive to where you’re walking, scooping up a potted plant and setting it aside when you’re about to walk into it. “Careful.”
You tell him all sorts of stories as you head home—how you fell in love with the library, how you never thought you’d own a dog, how you’re glad you’re far away from the city.
He listens. To every single one of your stories, all while making sure you get home safely. He looks both sides before crossing the street, hand outstretched to an incoming car to slow it down as you carelessly walk across without so much as a glance.
“Hyunjin.” You suddenly stop in your tracks.
“Hm?” Hyunjin ushers you to keep moving, hand hovering on the small of your back as you start giggling in your dazed state.
“There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you.”
“Okay.”
“Is it okay if I ask right now?”
“Sure.” He replies, arms dropping back to his sides.
“Do you think you can like me? I don’t think anyone likes me.”
A silence settles between the two of you right after you get the question out. Hyunjin pauses in his actions, staring at you as you keep marching forward to where you live.
He allows himself to ponder over your sudden question. He couldn’t quite explain how he felt about you, but he knows it’s good. He has surprised himself time and time again for willingly continuing conversation with a stranger, but Seungmin has stressed it was good for him.
You emit a type of radiance, one of comfort. Maybe it was the way you smile at him, so softly when people look at him strangely for not being able to speak to them right away. He has only spoken to you once, but he knows he wants to talk to you more.
He wants to get to know you more.
He gives you a fond smile as he catches up with you once more. Hyunjin doesn’t know the connotation behind your question, and he doesn’t know what premise his answer falls under either.
Still, he says, “I already do.”
“Oh, we’re here!” You yell out and immediately quiet down when you realize everyone around you must be asleep right now. “Sorry.” Now in a whisper as you look around sheepishly.
“Can you get in safely?” He questions, worry still eminent in the way he speaks, even as you nod your head to answer his question.
“Don’t worry about me. Bye bye!” When you slip into your home, you immediately fall face first on your mattress and fall asleep. Drinking can be so draining when the world around you spins.
You don’t think about the splitting headache waiting for you the next day.
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six.
You're fucked.
This much is clear as you finally finish vomiting in your toilet, images from the night before flashing in your mind— the giggling, the stumbling, and poor Hyunjin. You can still hear his voice in your head, telling you to get in safely. You can still feel the way his hand hovered over your back to make sure you don’t fall over.
Well, shit. This is way beyond anything you’ve ever done, moving up to the number one spot of the list you liked to label ‘embarrassment’. Calling Hyunjin miss and forgetting which pages go to which book moves down a spot at the sudden entry of your drunk ass.
“Kkami, what do I do?” You groan, head falling back against the wall of your bathroom as you stare at the ceiling. Will a letter of apology suffice for the way he had to take you home last night despite his exhaustion of driving to the city?
“This is so embarrassing.” Kkami consoles you by curling up by your side, paw resting on your thigh before his whole head drops to lay atop your leg.
Hyunjin is so pretty too. He’s enchanting in the way he speaks, and the way his eyes sparkle naturally when he does the things he loves. He’s unstinting with his kindness too, never losing patience even as you took a long time to repair the books you had offered to help with. You don’t even know if you helped much, but he never made a move to stop you even as time passed and you were making little progress.
It’s easy to fall into your embarrassment, which is how you find yourself with a notebook in hand, thinking of how the hell you were going to apologize to him. You don’t think you have it in you to go up to him face-to-face and have to recall the events of the night.
You might as well write something.
“About what happened last night…” You look at your notebook with critical eyes, immediately scratching it out to think of a better way to start your note.
“I’m sorry, Hyunjin. I don’t know how to say this.”
The second candidate is just as bad as the first one.
With your chin on the palm of your hands, you rack your brain for every possible way to say sorry. It’s not like apologizing was anything new to you, it’s even become a habit in your work life for the past few years. Always doing something wrong. Always apologizing. Even if it was never your fault to begin with. Though, this time, you want it to be genuine. You don’t want to imitate the phony way you’ve said sorry before.
Your eyes are glazed as you stare at the piece of paper.
Hyunjin has a routine fixed, so you make it a point to reach the library at noon when he’s busy pushing a trolley full of books to return them to where they belong on the bookshelves. He only hears the bell ring when you walk into the library, like you always do.
Peering over the shelves, he finds himself smiling to himself when you wander inside the library. He peels his gaze away for a few seconds to return a few books to their spots, though, apparently that’s also the time it takes for him to hear the bell ringing again, to indicate that you had left just as quickly as you had walked in.
Tilting his head, Hyunjin backs away from his work to check his desk where a small note sits.
“I’m sorry…” with a small drawing underneath.
It looks like the work of a child, but Hyunjin could tell instantly that it was a portrait of you and him from the night before. It prompts a smile on his face, eyes flicking from the note to the door. He keeps the piece of paper in his drawer to think about later.
Hyunjin has never had the courage to strike while the iron was hot, but he finds himself walking out the public library in hopes of catching you before you’ve left.
He finds you seated on the bench outside, eyes trained on the screen of your phone with your legs outstretched.
“Excuse me.”
You almost drop your phone when you hear him, immediately standing up to greet him. He looks good, as he always does. His complexion shines even prettier under the sun. The natural lighting highlights his hair in that it looks more dark brown than black. And his smile. It’s a little less shy now, and more open.
“Thank you for the note… and the drawing.”
He sounds like an angel too. You’ve always found his voice pretty, in a different way from Felix’s deep ocean voice. His was gentle, soft, and way nicer than you remember it being.
You try to think of the right words to say, sputtering over whether you should bring back what had happened last night or simply accept his thanks.
Taking a deep breath, you nod your head. “You’re welcome.”
Hyunjin has his hands clasped together in front of him as you speak, rocking himself back and forth on the heel and soles of his feet.
“You must’ve come in safely, then.” You laugh a little at what he says, and it only makes his smile brighter.
“Yeah. I’m sorry again.” It makes you cringe when you think of your behavior, but Hyunjin doesn’t seem to mind at all when he puts his hand up as a motion for you to stop apologizing.
“Not at all. I’m just glad to know you’re okay.”
The statement has your cheeks warming up, staring at him and the bag of ice cream you had initially brought for you and Felix. He had texted you earlier saying he couldn’t make it, and promised that he’d be the one to buy the ice cream next time.
Ice cream can be a good peace offering.
Grabbing the bag, you lift it up and smile coyly at the boy. “Do you want some ice cream?”
Hyunjin’s eyes form into crescents at your offer, lips curling up into an easy smile as he makes his way to sit adjacent to you. It feels nice like this, sitting outside in the breeze with only the two of you as you hand him the ice cream flavor of his liking, the tree just behind you doing a great job at shielding you enough that the sun’s heat isn’t too hot, but is still there.
“You know, I prefer cone ice creams over popsicles.” You mention suddenly, looking down at your cone and peering at the popsicle he had chosen for himself. He hums at the information, eyes softening when you ask him the same thing, like his opinions matter to you. Like you want to get to know him too. “What about you?”
“I’m not a big…” He catches himself before he can continue. Hyunjin isn’t the biggest fan of ice cream, but he finds himself unable to reject your offer. It’s an opportunity to sit in this moment with you.
He’d eat ice cream over and over again if it meant being able to stay in this moment.
“Well, ice cream does taste good, but the apple flavor…” He finds that he has a hard time answering your question, pausing to ponder over his words. It has you giggling. He looks cute thinking his options over.
“You don’t have to answer me.”
“But this one is good.” He lifts the popsicle in his hand, taking a bite out of it to show that he was being truthful with his words.
You laugh this time.
“You know, I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing when I first got here. But, I found myself falling in love with the library.” Hyunjin looks at you when you speak, unlike his previous inability to maintain eye contact with you.
“You’ve actually told me that already.”
You tilt your head in confusion. “I have? When?”
“Back then.” He’s gesturing something with his hands, and you continue to stare at him to try and decipher what he was acting out. Though, it’s pretty quick to figure out once he pretends to drink out of a shot glass, and your eyes widen at the realization of when he was referring to.
“Back then?” You repeat, and he chuckles at the way you roll your head back in embarrassment.
He hums in confirmation.
“What else did I say? When I… you know…” You trail off, looking at him for answers, but not quite wanting to repeat the words. He takes the hint well.
He laughs, before shaking his head. “It wasn’t so much talking, but rather singing.”
“I sang?” You stare at him dumbfounded as you try and recall what exactly happened. “I actually sang?” You laugh out loud this time, and you fail to notice the way his entire face lights up at the sound.
“What did I sing?” You look shocked and confused, yet there’s a smile of amusement on your features when Hyunjin actually starts singing the melody you had the night before.
“Why…” He clears his throat. “Why do you appear before my eyes whenever I’m drunk?”
“Wait, stop! Oh my god. Please stop.” You reach forward, resting a hand on the table and leaning forward to get him to stop singing.
“Can you please forget about that entire night?” You bring your hands together almost begging, and he can only laugh in amusement at the way you’re reacting.
“I don’t really think about it that often—“
“You even sang the song!” You interrupt.
“That’s because you asked.” He lifts a hand to scratch at the nape of his neck, bashfully smiling.
“This is so embarrassing.” You hang your head, a wince of an apology soliciting itself from your throat as you swing your feet back and forth to physically cringe at yourself.
Seungmin arrives at that very moment, his own complaints spilling out and drowning yours out. He pauses when he finds Hyunjin outside with you, squinting his eyes suspiciously before letting it go in favor of complaining once again.
“They’re so annoying! They think they’re so high and mighty.” He drops at the seat next to Hyunjin, and you offer him the only ice cream you have left in your bag. You have no idea what he’s talking about, but it seems Hyunjin knows all about it.
“They won’t do it?” Hyunjin asks, and Seungmin all but sighs as he starts peeling the wrapper off the ice cream.
“I mean, I guess it’s not easy to come down here to listen to old people talk.” Seungmin takes an annoyed bite, throwing his head back. “They might make me write the article, too. And I have to do it tomorrow. Can’t someone else do it?”
An idea forms in his head.
Hyunjin looks at you gingerly, and Seungmin visibly perks up when he follows the boy’s line of sight. You clear your throat, suddenly breaking eye contact and looking anywhere but the two boys.
“Will you please do it?” He grins wickedly, whole body tilted to face you as he reaches out to grab your attention.
“Well, you see…” You mumble. “I only proofread when I was working at a publishing company.” You point out sheepishly between each bite at your ice cream, doing your best to not look at Seungmin.
“The fact that you proofread means you’re familiar with writing.”
"Still…” You trail off with your words, not knowing how to defend yourself any further when Seungmin is clasping his hands and begging you to help them do the work. “I’m just not very confident.”
“(Name).” Hyunjin calls, and you look at him in hopes that he has a plan in mind to save you from Seungmin’s request.
“Why do you appear before my eyes…”
Your mouth drops at his words.
“What did you say?” Seungmin questions, and you look back at the boy to subtly shake your head, as if trying to get him to stop. Instead, he smiles a little mischievously.
“Whenever I’m…” You wince, immediately putting a hand up to stop him. Fortunately for Hyunjin, you’ve been begging him to forget about the night before, so you feel as though you owe him something.
With your head hung lightly and a look of defeat on your face, you finally agree to Seungmin’s request.
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seven.
When you arrive, Hyunjin is already waiting for you with a camera slung around his neck. He looks so pretty with his hair falling messily over his shoulder. He’s wearing a white shirt and some jeans, though, what catches your eye the most is the huge knitted sweater he’s wearing.
“Hello, good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon.”
You fail to notice his own reaction, too busy admiring his beauty to realize he’s doing the same. Opposite you, Hyunjin’s jaw-dropping reaction to what you’re wearing is staring at your face with a small smile playing on his lips. He’s fiddling with his camera now, eyes traveling from the clip you’re wearing on your hair to the cherry lip balm you’d applied just before leaving.
What colors was he using painting you in his head? Pastel hues with a tinge of vibrancy.
“Shall we go then?” Suddenly, he can’t look at you, eyes trained just behind you as he asks.
“Okay.”
It doesn’t feel like a far walk with Hyunjin next to you. In fact, it barely takes 15 minutes before you reach the house of the person you’re supposed to be interviewing.
The outside of her home is beautiful, and an older woman you don’t recognize greets you and helps you both inside. Her home is surrounded by a wide expanse of grass, the view of the sea beautiful from a distance. The house itself is built with wood, and the row of vegetable plants lining up behind the low-standing table outside provides a breath of fresh air.
“Good afternoon. We’re here for an interview.” You inform politely, and she nods her head as if finally remembering why she’s letting two strangers into her home.
“Sit down, sit down.” Her tone is welcoming as she urges you to sit down, allowing Hyunjin to set up the camera on the camera stand he brought with him. Never imposing as she asks if you need anything else.
“You’re dressed so nicely.” You smile, the full view of her garden behind her accentuating her features. You’re sure she was quite the heartbreaker when she was younger.
“Just relax, and imagine you’re having a chat with your daughter.”
The interview goes smoothly. You ask her of things big and small—her age, her family, her history with Angok, anything you can think of. Seungmin didn’t give you any specifics to ask, just that you would write about her life. In this way, you’d be getting to know her.
She speaks of her children and grandchildren with so much love, that it almost makes you envious that you don’t have a grandmother figure to lean on. You’re all you really have left.
When you look over at Hyunjin, he gives you a toothless grin, as if to assure you you’re doing a great job. It lasts around an hour, and you’re just about ready to go home when she stops you and Hyunjin from fixing up.
“Oh, goodness.” She doesn’t need to ask for Hyunjin to hurry his way to her, grabbing the huge platter of food she grabbed from inside her house, settling it where you had sat earlier.
“I had no idea it was time for food. You guys must be hungry. Come on, let’s eat.”
“Thank you for the food.” You both say, and she only smiles as she admires the young couple in front of her.
The food is cooked with care, having just the right amount of seasoning. There’s a variety of vegetables which you assume to have been freshly picked from the garden she has. Hyunjin seems to mirror your thoughts, immediately praising her for the food.
“The food is delicious.”
“Really?” She finds pleasure in the way you’re enjoying your food. Perhaps, she was trying to catch a glimpse of her children in the two of you.
“Are you two married?” You and Hyunjin pause from eating, staring at each other before looking back at the older woman.
“No, we’re not.” You answer for him, laughing a little at the accusation she had just made. “We’re not married.”
“Oh, too bad. You guys would make a great couple if you were to marry.” She says light-heartedly, staring directly at the boy who’s refusing to make any eye contact at the sudden topic change. Hyunjin nearly chokes on the lettuce he’s eating, coughing a little as he mutters a string of apologies. She only smiles knowingly, offering up some water to the poor boy.
He swallows down his food, putting on a cordial smile directed at the old woman.
The rest of the time plays out without any more questions as to what the relationship is between the two of you, which Hyunjin is more than grateful for. He’s afraid of tripping over his own feet when you’re mentioned as his girlfriend one more time, as if choking on his food wasn’t enough already.
At some point, while you’d been talking, the sun had started to set which prompts the older woman to send in a flurry of farewells as she ushers the pair of you to get home safely.
Looking at you now, while the orange hues of the sun falls on your face, Hyunjin concludes that he feels something for you, evident in the way his heart starts beating a little faster and his palms start to sweat when you’re around. The awkward atmosphere between the two of you is long gone, and he finds himself hearing the gentle undertone of your voice in his head before he falls asleep.
He’s even more floored after today, after having seen first hand how you treat people with so much kindness—even Seungmin, who’s the number one enemy on everyone’s list in this small village. He admires the way you smile at strangers, and your eloquence in conversations even with the little words you say.
It’s only been a while of knowing you, yet he finds himself thinking about you all the time. From the first day you met that muggy afternoon, to how you helped him with repairing the books, even that drunken night where you had sang for him, and the morning after when you shared ice cream with him. He finds himself repeating these moments with you over and over in his head, like sifted sand, until they’re properly engraved in his mind.
“You know… all I really did today was listen to her stories, but my heart feels at ease because of it.”
Hyunjin looks at you as you walk side by side each other, the sunset’s glow falling on everything around you.
“I’m glad to hear that.”
When the wind blows, leaves from the trees lined up near you float around you. From time to time, you’d hear the crunch of crushed leaves as you step on them. All the while, Hyunjin is walking close to you, watching you and listening to you.
“Thank you for working with me on this.” Hyunjin suddenly says, words softer than expected as he locks eyes with you. He wants you to know he’s genuine in his gratitude.
“I hope you’ll like my writing once you get to read it.” You smile nervously, keeping eye contact with him, and you don’t know how pivotal this moment is for the boy. How your kindness is pulling him deeper and deeper into you, everything about you—your sweet smile and your bright eyes.
“I will.”
Talking to you feels easy and natural.
“You will?” A small smile creeps onto your face at his response, and he nods his head in confirmation.
Silence passes.
“I hope we can keep working on this together.” Hyunjin surprises himself with how straightforward he can be with you, with how easy it is to tell you he wants to keep spending time with you.
“If you buy me dinner tomorrow, I’ll think about it.”
The whole world stops in this pocket of time. While everyone goes about their evening, Hyunjin is stuck on your words. Your eyes glisten with a certain type of glow no one can replicate, and he thinks he’ll always remember your face right now, smiling fondly at him, lit by the setting sun.
“Okay. Dinner tomorrow.”
Heat continuously rises to his face the more you look at him, but Hyunjin supposes he can blame it on the sun for now.
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eight.
It is exactly 6:36 in the evening when you meet Hyunjin at the library to grab dinner with him.
When the bell rings, he can’t help the smile on his face when he realizes it’s you that’s walking into the library. He never used to smile this much before. But it can’t be helped, not when it’s you.
“Hello.” He’s the one who speaks first.
“Hi.” You reply, mimicking the smile on his face. His eyes are glossy when you meet them.
“Shall we go to dinner?” He lets out a small breath, hovering just in front of you.
Hyunjin looks like a bundle of nerves. You don’t know that, in his head, this feels akin to a first date. One he hasn’t gone on in a long time. So, on the outside, he’s perfectly composed, eyes dropping on the wooden ground. On the inside, however, he’s sweating and twisting and turning and screaming that he’s about to have dinner with you.
“What? Are you buying dinner?” Seungmin’s nosy ears perks up at the mention of dinner, immediately moving from his place behind the desk to join the two of you. “I was just starting to get hungry. Come on, let’s go.”
While Hyunjin wants to be upset at the sudden third wheeling of Kim Seungmin, he finds that he isn’t.
As funny as it sounds, he’s kind of grateful for the sudden interruption. He’s too afraid that if you were to have dinner together, alone, and his fried brain was convincing him it was a first date—his feelings would become too real. He knows he likes you, but he doesn’t want to act on it too soon. He doesn’t want to scare you off, doesn’t want to scare himself off.
Hyunjin has way too much of a feeble heart, that even walking beside you right now, with your hands slightly brushing against the other, he can already hear his heart beating in his ears.
He has always thought of himself as patient, so he doesn’t understand why there’s a growing irritation at the back of his head for the inability to hold your hand in his. It’s even more confusing as he knows he’s never been the type to crave for skinship, never eager for physical touch. So, what’s changed?
“Yah, Lee Minho!” Seungmin’s voice is loud as he walks into the restaurant, though, a much younger boy greets him.
“Innie, where’s Minho?” Jeongin gestures at the kitchen, immediately setting off to find the older boy at the request of Seungmin.
You hide behind Hyunjin the moment Minho appears from the kitchen. You’re sure the memories from that night are still fresh in his mind, and he’d been the first to witness your drunken, hazy state. When he sees you, his lips tug into a lazy smirk, but he chooses not to say anything.
“We went to interview that old lady yesterday.” Hyunjin feels the need to inform Seungmin who’s smiling, pleased with his ability to coerce you into helping them out.
Everyone finally settles down into their seats, Hyunjin cooking the meat silently as conversation starts. Jeongin joins you not long after, asking if it was alright. Your food sizzles behind the chatter around your table.
“What interview?” Jeongin asks.
“A writer didn’t show up, so (Name) did the interview instead.” Seungmin informs the table, and Jeongin nods in pretense of understanding the situation.
“How did you know how to do that? Where did you work in Seoul?” Minho’s the one to ask this time as he refills your meat, setting down a plate of raw pork just by Hyunjin’s arm.
“She worked at a publishing company.” Seungmin says with a mouth full of food.
“I see. Then you must’ve had a lot of boyfriends.”
You tilt your head at Jeongin’s sudden proposition, like he’s trying to fit two completely different puzzle pieces. There’s absolutely no correlation between working at a publishing company and having multiple boyfriends. It seems Seungmin is wondering the same thing, cogs turning in his brain at Jeongin’s stupid question.
“How are those two related?” He deadpans.
“I’ve always found well-read girls charming and attractive.” Jeongin simply shrugs, shoving down another piece of cut-up meat in his mouth before chewing. “So, do you have a boyfriend?”
You fail to notice the way Hyunjin suddenly leans closer to the table, suddenly finding interest in the topic when he had been absent for most of the conversation.
“Oh, I used to have one. But we broke up.” You laugh a little nervously, quietly thanking Hyunjin who sets a few cooked pieces of pork on your plate so you don’t run out while eating.
“Why? How long did it last?”
Jeongin and Seungmin seem to have a lot of questions, and you can see Hyunjin sending them a side eye from your peripheral vision at their rather invasive question.
“Quite a long—“
Hyunjin concludes he doesn’t need to know anything about your ex-boyfriend. He smoothly interrupts the conversation by stuffing food in Seungmin’s mouth. “This is about to burn, you should eat it.”
He glares at the boy viciously, but even the scowl on Seungmin’s face couldn't crack Hyunjin’s persistence in cutting the conversation short. He doesn’t know if it's jealousy, never having felt it before, but he knows he doesn’t want the image of you kissing another boy imprinted in his mind.
Thankfully, Jeongin moves on to another topic, speaking about how he’s in the last year of college and how much he hates it. All the while, you and Hyunjin share small smiles from across the table.
You both let Jeongin and Seungmin carry the conversation. You were never good at keeping the flow of one going anyways. So, instead, you play the listening role. The one you’ve always been good at.
Throughout dinner, Hyunjin does little things for you. He refills your empty glass of water, he puts meat on your plate so you don’t run out, and he constantly checks up on you—to see whether you were overwhelmed with the loudness of the two boys.
He does so by looking at you with an endearing smile, light dimples on his cheeks as he chuckles when you smile back at him. It’s a quiet conversation between the two of you, even if it’s just communication between smiles. Hyunjin is like a breath of fresh air from the crackling volume surrounding you.
He offers to walk you home after the four of you finish up with dinner, telling you that he couldn’t allow himself to simply let you walk alone in the dark. You respond with the crinkling of your eyes and a soft ‘thank you’.
Being with Hyunjin, alone, is quite possibly the purest form of comfort you will ever know. He’s tender and gentle and attentive, like he knows what it’s like to have the peace you value being breached constantly. Though, lately, you find that the quiet you crave for isn’t necessarily complete silence. It’s the comfortable and uninterrupted calm you feel when you’re with Hyunjin—whether at the library or walking home together from dinner. When he’s with you, warmth always makes an appearance.
There is no demand to make conversation.
You let your gaze veer off to the sea and how the waves crash along the shore. There's a breeze softly wafting through your hair, and you smile at just being able to view the ocean anytime you want. A pleasure you’ve always been denied off back in the city.
As your simple house comes into view, your shoulders fall at knowing he would have to leave now. You stop in your tracks, biting at your lips, and Hyunjin waits for you to say something. Never demanding. Always patient.
“Do you wanna meet my dog?”
His mouth opens in response, before a toothless smile forms in his features. “I’d like that.”
Kkami’s wiggling body with his wagging tail is the first to greet you when you open the door. You crouch down, arms open so he can jump onto you just the way he likes. “I’m back. I’m sorry to keep you waiting all this time.”
“Come in, come in.” You urge Hyunjin to get in, resuming your standing position so you can close the door behind him. “You can keep your shoes on if you’d like.”
He refuses, immediately taking them off before crouching down to greet the long-haired Chihuahua. They get along right away, Kkami constantly tapping his paw on Hyunjin’s knees to get his attention.
“I’ll get you something to drink.” You disappear into the kitchen, grabbing him a glass of water before hurriedly returning.
His hand brushes against yours when he reaches to take the glass from you, and you hate how fumbly the simple gesture gets you. It makes you feel like you’re back in high school, helplessly crushing on the boy who’s way out of your league.
“I think he likes you more than me now.” You crouch back down, looking at the way Kkami nudges his head on the side of Hyunjin’s thigh.
“I think he’s just a friendly dog.” He reassures you, though, he can’t help but feel a little pride that your dog immediately warms up to him. He’s always wanted a dog too.
When Kkami starts to give his attention back to you, Hyunjin calls him back. “Come here. There’s food here, can’t you see?”
His false bribery has you laughing.
“Now you’re just lying to my dog.”
He’s unfazed, continuing to lie to your poor dog about the invisible food he has in hand. “I have food for you, come here.”
“Wow, my dog left me and chose you because of your fake food.” You pout when Kkami successfully sits himself on Hyunjin’s lap, barking in glee when the boy rubs the back of his ears.
He sets the empty glass on a table nearby, careful not to drop it with Kkami still on him, gaze falling on the ring around your finger when you take it so it’s safe in your kitchen sink.
“Your ring is really pretty.” His compliment is genuine, and you can’t help but smile as you look down at the metal band your mother had given you, the one you started wearing since your brother called.
“My mom gave it to me. It has the number 220 engraved on it, apparently for bravery.”
“Suits you very well then.”
“I was really afraid when I first moved here, you know. I had no idea what I was doing. I thought I’d fallen into defeat.”
You recall your uncertainty when you had left everything you’d ever known in the city, following the heartbeat in the town of Angok.
“Men are not created with defeat in mind. We may fall at times, but we’re never defeated.”
“That’s a good line.”
“I stole it from a book.” He says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Wanna know something cool?”
You nodded your head, sitting with your legs crossed on the floor in front of him.
“Your ring has the number 220, right? Well, back in college, I used to play sports. My jersey number was 284.” You don’t know where he’s going with this, but you listen anyway.
“They’re both amicable numbers. The sum of factors of 220 is 284, and the sum of the facts of 284 is 220.” He says with a smile, hands smoothing down your chihuahua’s fur. “These numbers are linked together by some fate, like your ring and my jersey.”
Hyunjin is a quiet surprise, sputtering about amicable numbers and mathematics to you. It’s almost endearing, how he had found something between the two of you and connected it to something he knows.
Your ring and his jersey. Amicable numbers.
There is so much to Hyunjin, so much you still don’t know and want to learn.
“That is pretty cool.” You think back about it in your head, how rare these numbers are, and how they found themselves to the both of you. Maybe knowing Hyunjin has always been written in the stars, and maybe you’ll know him in every lifetime after this one.
At the same time, Hyunjin is grinning to himself. He’d always thought love was far off, but it looks like it’s been in front of him this whole time, smiling back at him. He knows what he’s feeling, this overwhelming warmth, and he knows it’s real now more than ever.
In this moment, there is nothing else but you, him and Kkami and the knowledge that he’s falling in love with you. Right here, right now, all he sees are your eyes and your smile and the way your hands are brushing as you lean down to scratch Kkami’s ears.
Hyunjin feels like his heart is about to burst, and he has to clear his throat and put Kkami down in some poor excuse of needing to get home. He has to before he does something he might regret. The tides of the waves are pulling at him to make a move on you, and he’s afraid he might never make it to shore at the sheer overwhelmingness of his feelings for you. Could it be possible that you made a move instead?
“I think I have to get going now.” He whispers, and you nod your head, moving to stand up when he does. “Thanks for coming to meet Kkami. You should say goodbye to Hyunjin. Say thank you for visiting! Goodbye!”
You move Kkami’s paw to imitate waving.
“Goodbye!” His smile is wide as he bends down to wave back at your dog, taking small steps backwards until he’s by your door.
“I’ll write up a story about the lady we interviewed and send it to you.” You mention, fumbling with the knob to open it for him.
“Sure.” When you don’t make a move to say anything else, he turns his back to start walking away.
“By the way…” Hyunjin immediately turns back around, both hopeful and hesitant at what you have to say to him. His eyes hold yours, waiting for you to continue. “Are you free—“
“Good evening!” Chan’s booming voice interrupts what you were able to say. “Sorry it took me so long. I’m here to help you with the water leakage?”
You’d almost forgotten. You had called Chan earlier this morning to ask if he could help you fix up the issue with your sink.
“No, it’s okay. Hi, good evening.”
“Weren’t you about to say something?” He asks, and you suddenly feel too shy to ask if he wanted to hangout with you soon. The Little Mermaid live action was coming out soon, and you’d been excited to check it out. You thought, maybe it would be fun to watch it with him.
“Ah, it’s nothing.” An unidentifiable emotion flickers in Hyunjin’s features when you suddenly double back on what you were supposed to say—of dejection? You can’t say for sure, especially when a small smile returns to his face and he’s waving goodbye at you one last time.
“Chan, come in.” In your head, you’re still bruising yourself over cowardly backing down from asking Hyunjin to eat dinner with you tomorrow, hopefully with just you two this time.
Your water leakage problem doesn’t take too many steps, but it does need a few tools that only Chan has. When he finishes, you tell him to sit down a little, finding something to offer him for fixing up what had been broken under your sink.
“What’s going on between you and Hyunjin?” It catches you off guard, the unfiltered way he suddenly asks the question with obvious teasing dripping down his tone.
“Nothing.” You say too quickly, shaking your head.
“I was kidding. You don’t have to tell me.”
“Aren’t you gonna pry?” You’re not used to anyone not prying. Back in the city, you barely could keep anything a secret. Always forced. Always fidgety with the way they ask you questions, only to use that information against you later.
“No. As long as you’re happy, and both of you don’t get yourself hurt.”
His considerateness is breathtaking, and it almost has you tearing up the way he treats you better than your own brother. Chan doesn’t need to hug you for you to feel safe, he just has to smile and look at you with his eyes round of warmth.
He feels familiar, like… family. You think this is what family should feel like.
“Thank you, Chan.” You breathe, and he breathes with you. He reminds you he’s only one call away, and your heart feels like it’s being stripped until it’s bare.
This is family. Chan is family.
And Hyunjin quite possibly is love.
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nine.
The epiphany you had posed to yourself the night before proved to be almost as difficult as the one you had when you had left the city. Inevitable, but that doesn’t mean it scared you less. Uncertainties often make you feel vulnerable, and what is love but a thread of uncertainties waiting to be untangled?
You can’t focus in your little rented space, the four corners tend to look smaller and smaller when you’ve trapped yourself long enough in your head. It’s terrifying, to feel the walls closing in on you. So, you might as well take Kkami out on a walk where you aren’t encased in liminal space.
The breeze outside is the kind that takes all the weight off your chest, leaving you to start anew in your train of thoughts. When you try to find the beginning of when you had started to see Hyunjin differently, you lose the thread and find yourself empty-handed. No one has told you how difficult it is to tend to the knotted spool of love.
Was it in his kindness which he showed in the smallest ways, barely noticeable but there when you look close enough? He doesn’t smile in large amplified ways, but the way he looks at you with intention leaves such an impact.
Everything he does—on purpose and by choice and intentionally. From the way he constantly checks on you, and the umbrella he had offered, and the patience that never seems to run thin. He smiles and talks to you by choice, and he gets to know your dog intentionally. You’re enamored with the entirety of Hyunjin, with the way he’s passionate about his job, and the gentle way in which he helps those around him whether that’s driving Seungmin to Seoul or treating Jeongin to dinner. He’s beautiful as he listens, as he shows that he will always listen.
It’s a lot to handle, and it’s a huge epiphany to admit to yourself, so you walk without destination. Nature and the beauties of Angok, you find, can take your mind off of anything. Just like that day you had escaped the city.
There are birds singing from the trees, accompanying the wind with their tunes as they whistle. The breeze carries it everywhere, the sound of their whistling, the crashing of the waves bathing the seashore. Had you really existed in a time before you’d known the salt of the ocean breeze and the sun shining the entire village with a glow?
Everything is beautiful here. There’s nothing that isn’t with the flurry of color bursting in the town of Angok, with the gentle chatter of generations of people who live there, with Hyunjin’s back walking a little ahead of you.
“Hyunjin?”
Maybe you don’t really care about the multitude of ways you can unravel the knotted spool. Maybe the only thing that matters is this moment with him, and every other moment with him.
He turns around immediately at the recognition of your voice, lifting a hand up to wave at you before greeting Kkami. You shoot him a smile, speeding up a little to catch up with him as he stands planted on his spot. Kkami runs faster than you do, already barking by Hyunjin’s feet and jumping up to get the boy’s attention.
There is no overthinking in the way he smiles back at you so easily. No thread to think about.
“Hi.” His gaze never falters from yours, even as noises stir around from a distance.
“Hello. I was just walking Kkami.”
“If we’re going the same way, why don’t we walk together?” He offers.
“Okay.”
A heartbeat passes.
“By the way, what are you doing out here? You know… instead of being in the library.” You ask inquisitively, not used to seeing him outside so early in the day.
“Seungmin’s been a bit anxious over the next part of his exams, so I went to buy him some food. It always calms him down.”
It’s only then you realize the bag of food he’s holding, and the sight only melts your heart further.
“You’re a really good friend.”
“I just do good upon others as I wish the same for myself.” How lovely, how he wants to make the world so painfully beautiful that people want to live in it.
“Well, the world isn't as cold and gloomy because of you.” You smile, and Hyunjin can’t help the way his words jumble up in his mouth at the kindness you utter. He’s wordless, all tangled in longing and flustered-ness.
You make him feel like he can hold sunlight in his hands.
“I’ll be going this way now.” A point in the opposite, and Hyunjin can only frown in disappointment of your time cut short.
“Take care.” He says, standing his ground as he watches you and Kkami start to walk away from him.
Static is zipping through the air, louder than ever. Hyunjin’s fiddling with the straps of his pants, contemplating and contemplating and contemplating—
“(Name)!” The sound of your name on Hyunjin’s lips makes your head instantly turn back.
“Yes?”
Hyunjin’s fumbling with everything he’s ever known, eyes falling to his own hands before back to yours.
“By any chance, are you going to have dinner—“ Hyunjin pauses. No, that doesn’t sound right. “I mean, are you busy tonight?”
“I’m not.”
A knowing smile on both your faces.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“I’d like that a lot.”
The thread is long gone.
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ten.
Hyunjin has a profound ability of surprising you every time. He’s almost unpredictable in his kindness—showing up when you’re drunk, refilling your plate with meat, and now handing you a bag of dog toys for Kkami.
“I thought he might like this.”
“Oh, thank you.” You take the bag gratefully, smiling at the selection of chew toys inside before looking back up at the boy. “I haven’t gotten him anything nice, so thank you, really.”
“I also have this for you.” He brings out more shyly this time—a necklace beaded in shells. You look down at it, the necklace. No one’s given you anything in a long time. “You always have this look on your face when you look at the beach. So, it just… reminded me of you.”
You lift it up carefully, almost feather-like as you stare at the simple necklace.
“Hyunjin.” The way he’s looking at you is so powerful, yet so vulnerable at the same time, eyes tinging in hope that you’d like the little present he had gotten you. It’s a look you can feel inside. “Thank you.”
He helps you wear it when you attempt to wrap it around your neck yourself. Wordless, you don’t have to say anything as he gently closes it to encase it around your neck.
“Do you like it?” There it is again. That vulnerability.
“I love it.” You smile, hand lifting to fiddle with the necklace. “I’m never taking it off.”
Hyunjin’s eyes soften, features glowing under the streetlights as you finally resume your walk to where you’ll be eating dinner together.
He had called himself out multiple times as he was pondering over whether to buy it for you or not the moment he sees it, telling himself he was too obvious with the way he feels for you, and yet the thought of the sincerity in your face when you receive it overpowers the voice in his head. He finds himself getting it for you. He was always gonna get it for you the moment he saw the necklace.
“Then, do you want some chicken and beer?” Hyunjin asks as you reach a crossroad, multiple intersections splitting the road into separate parts of the village.
“Chicken and beer?”
“Mhm. Last night, I was actually gonna ask if you wanted chicken and beef before Seungmin tagged along.”
“Oh?” You smile at the thought. “That sounds good actually. Wait, let me search a place up.”
You barely even unlock your phone when Hyunjin starts speaking again.
“Well, if we go that way,” he motions to the first intersection. “There’s a really old place that sells amazing fried chicken. And there’s a place down that way where the interior is nice and spacious, but the chicken doesn’t taste as good.”
“And down that way,” he continues, pointing towards the other intersection. “There’s a place with outdoor tables known for its refreshing beer.”
“You’ve really done your research.” You grin, fiddling with the phone in your hands as you look at Hyunjin who has his shyly behind his back after he has finished speaking.
“Yeah.” He exhales, smile still on his face. “Just in case.
Just in case he got enough courage to ask you out is the continuation of his sentence, though he chooses to omit it for now.
“I…” You ponder, recounting the options in your head before forming a number 3 with your fingers. “Choose number three. Beer tends to vary more in taste than chicken.”
“I see.” He nods his head, taking your words in as he thinks about the numerous times fried chicken had tasted the same to him. “Well then, let’s go that way?”
A silver of the moon shines on the two of you as you settle down the table, arriving 10 minutes after you had pondered over your choices at the intersection. The night breeze is pleasant, blowing in between the two of you until your stomachs are full from the food.
“This is so refreshing.” You praise after having taken a chug out of your beer, leaning your head back to savor the taste longer. “Whoever thought of eating chicken and beer together is a genius.”
He listens, hanging on to every single word you say as he takes a bite out of his own piece. The sight has him wondering if you were free tomorrow too.
Similarly, you’re thinking if you should try to invite him to watch Little Mermaid with you again.
“Are you also busy tomorrow?” His sudden question has your cheeks heating up despite the cold of the breeze and the beer.
“Why? Do you wanna see a movie?” It comes out fast, blurted, speeding from your mouth.
“A movie?”
Oh, shit. You didn’t even realize how you’d suddenly sprung up the topic on him without so much as an introduction.
“What I meant was… there’s just this movie I really wanted to see, and I think it’s out in theaters already.” You laugh a little at your own slip up, hoping to have clarified it better.
The sound makes Hyunjin’s smile widen.
“I see.” He takes a sip out of his own beer.
It’s silent for a while. A second blending into a minute, until you decide you can’t take it any longer.”
“Do you want to come with—“
“Should we watch—“
You make eye contact the moment you speak over one another, and it’s enough to trigger the laughter that’s bubbling in your throats at the sheer coincidence of asking each other out at the same time.
“Only if it’s okay with you.” He says once the pair of you stop giggling, tone significantly softer..
Always putting your comfort at the top priority.
“I’d actually really like that.”
It’s all smiles as you pay for your meal, and you don’t quite notice the slow pace in which the two of you are walking home, as if never wanting the moment to end. As if the great sense of contentment is too much to let go of right away.
Your footsteps fall in with Hyunjin’s, and your smiles never leave your faces on the rest of your way home.
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eleven.
Hyunjin spends two days in Seoul to accompany Seungmin as he finishes up the final stages of his Civil Licensure exam.
The first day away from the library is spent just at home, cleaning and finishing up on chores you’ve been meaning to do—putting away your clothes after doing laundry, feeding Kkami, sweeping the floors, and even dusting some shelves because of the abundance of free time. It’s therapeutic, the way you’re able to hold your own time and decide what you want to do for the day. In the afternoon, you walk your chihuahua outside, exploring more of Angok than you could’ve dreamed. It’s a beautiful village, and you find you don’t mind the lengthy walk. If it means you get to be with nature leisurely, you don’t have anything to complain about.
There’s so much time for happiness here, unlike the dark of your room in the city.
When you pass by the library the next day to continue mapping out Angok, you’re surprised to see the hunched over figure of Felix by the benches. You wonder what he’s doing here.
“Felix?” You speak cautiously, tentative even as you walk to his side.
The closer you get, the more you hear his sniffles. An alarm sounds in your head, and you immediately reach a hand over to rub his back as gently as possible. “What’s wrong?”
The words he mumbles are unclear, incoherent as they come out jumbled and stuttered. When he finally lifts his head up, the sight physically hurts you. Who could dare hurt the sun?
You move some of his hair out of his face, sitting down next to him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
Instead of answering, he lunges forward, jumping in your arms to seek comfort in your hug. It catches you by surprise, not because you’re uncomfortable, but because it’s only now you realize how long you’ve gone without a hug. You didn’t grow up from an affectionate family, and your time in the city knew of no comfort. This feels far better than pressing your back against your bed.
Snapping from the initial shock, you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer which only seems to let him release a louder sob. It seems he really needed this.
“I just don’t want to disappoint anyone.” His words are deep and choked, head still buried on your shoulder as he soaks up the shirt you’re wearing.
“You could never disappoint anyone.” You run a hand through his hair, the other hand running smooth circles on his back.
You don’t know how long you hold him like this, but after a while, his tears finally subside and he moves to pull away from the embrace. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” Reaching out, you swipe away the tears on his wet cheeks, smiling softly. You’re relieved when you see him return the gesture. It seems he doesn’t want to talk about what happened, but you find that it’s okay. He likes that you just listen without demanding him to tell you everything.
“Wanna go eat something at Minho’s? My treat.” You whisper, afraid to startle the poor boy, and his eyes seem to brighten at the suggestion.
“Would that really be okay?”
“Of course. Come on.” You walk with him to Minho’s little restaurant, making small conversation about anything he wants to talk about. If it means he’ll forget about whatever hurt him, you appease any topic that spills from his mouth.
“Ah, good afternoon (Name), Felix.” Minho waves when you enter his space, and you wave back at the boy.
He finally knows your name.
The ten minutes it takes to wait for the food is apparently the same time it takes for Jisung and Chan to stumble into the restaurant and greet the two of you loudly. They drop at where you’re seated, adjacent from you and Felix as they ask you questions of how you’re doing and what you two were up to.
You’re keen to stay as Felix’s emotional support, looking at him first before answering the two boys. It seems he feels way better now, in the presence of people he considers home.
“Look what I have.” Jisung brings out another tupperware from his bag, opening it up to reveal some cupcakes his mom had probably baked again. He excitedly takes one for each of you, babbling about how he can’t finish it all himself or else he’ll suffer from high blood pressure. “I’m glad I bumped into you guys. My mom’s been going crazy with the baking.”
“Felix likes baking too, right?” You turn to the boy next to you, and he nods his head as he recalls the conversation you had earlier on the way here.
“I’ve been trying to make some brownies.” He’s proud as he speaks, hands moving animatedly as he explains to them the process. The three of you listen carefully, immediately demanding him to bake some for you guys to which Felix says he will in his free time.
“Jeongin’s on his way.” Chan nudges Jisung who suddenly stands from his seat. He grabs a cupcake from the container, and you think he’s about to give it to the younger boy when suddenly, the icing crashes on the unsuspecting Jeongin’s nose.
“Are you nuts, Jisung?!” He exclaims, peeling the cupcake away from his icing-stained face.
“That’s what you get for rejecting my kisses.” Jisung smirks mischievously, though it’s quickly wiped off when Jeongin swiftly grabs a chunk of the icing and slaps it on the older boy’s cheek.
Minho’s voice is booming as he says, “Hey, don’t get the floors dirty!”, though there seems to be a hint of fondness on his features as he watches everything unfold before him.
“Oh my god.” With a hand covering your mouth, you can’t help the giggles from spewing it as Felix snorts from beside you.
“Come here, let’s wipe it off.” You get up from your seat, guiding Jeongin to the seat next to yours as you grab a pack of tissues from your bag, moving to wipe the smeared icing from his nose, cheeks, and eyes.
“What about me?” Jisung pouts, and Chan all but laughs as he pulls the boy down to start doing the same thing.
“Are you guys okay?” Felix’s voice is way steadier now, more than it was earlier, and it even holds laughter in it. Your heartbeat calms down at knowing he must feel better. At least this moment can take away what pained him, even for a few hours.
“You have a death wish, Han Jisung.”
“Not the government name.”
Though, Jisung only laughs at the threats spilling from Jeongin’s lips, proud of his work.
When Minho brings the food, Jisung successfully pulls him down to eat with all of you. It’s polarizing how you used to hate meal times, used to hate thinking about what to eat, or the fact that you’d be eating alone. Now, with laughter roaring from your table, you find yourself excited.
People are calling out for you to eat.
You spend hours there, listening to their stories. Before you know it, night dawns upon you, and Felix offers to walk you home.
“(Name)?”
“Hm?” You turn your head to look at Felix who’s already looking at you with a smile on his face.
“Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything, though.” You laugh, and Felix shakes his head as he maintains unwavering eye contact.
“Thanks to you, I feel happier now.” There’s a toothless grin on his face, though, it’s threatening to grow even wider by the second.
He genuinely looks happy.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Felix’s words stay stuck in your mind even as you lay down to sleep. For a brief moment, you were able to make him happier. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more accomplished than this very moment. There are no words to describe how beautiful the feeling is of being the cause of someone’s smile.
The rest of the night is spent thinking, and it’s only when your phone buzzes is it interrupted.
hyunjin (10:48pm): hi, are you asleep? i hope i’m not bothering you
yn (10:49pm): hello! not asleep yet :) you’re not bothering me at all
hyunjin (10:51pm): seungmin’s exams ran longer than i thought
yn (10:51pm): tell him i said hi !!
hyunjin (10:52pm): is texting a bother? do your wrists hurt when you type?
yn (10:52pm): just a little
He calls you suddenly, and it’s enough for your heart to jump straight out of your chest. Pressing the phone to your ear, you finally speak. “Hello?”
“I hope your wrists don’t hurt anymore.” You can hear the mumble of cars honking in the background, but his words tune them out.
“I guess this will do.”
Hyunjin pauses for a moment, allowing himself the moment to soak up the warmth of your voice and how two days is far too long to be away from your sweet voice.
“It’s nice to hear your voice.”
You swallow hard, shutting your eyes as you bring the phone away a little to let out a suppressed scream. You feel like a schoolgirl, kicking your feet and giggling over his words.
Calming yourself down, you reply, “But, don’t you have to sleep now?”
“Hmm, not yet.“
“Well, what do you wanna talk about?”
“Everything. I wanna know everything about you.” He breathes from his end of the line, running a hand through his hair.
You can hear the sincerity from his voice even if you can’t see him.
“Oh.” You murmur. There’s a blush playing on your cheeks. How is he able to make you feel everything all at once?
The conversation lasts almost 2 hours, until he has to let you go so you can sleep before the clock strikes one in the morning. He feels slightly terrible for keeping you up, but he’s selfish in that it doesn’t bother him that much. Hyunjin missed you, missed the lull of your voice, and he’s happy to have heard it before going to sleep.
“I’ll see you tomorrow? For the movie?”
“Okay. See you.”
You can almost see him, open-mouthed smiles as he speaks. It’s always so evident in his voice when he does.
“Goodnight.”
“Sleep well.”
Hyunjin drifts off to sleep, and it’s the best one he’s had since yesterday.
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twelve.
You tug at the dress you’re wearing as you wait outside the theater building. It’s a simple sleeveless white dress that goes down just above your knees, yet you’re still a little nervous whether you’re underdressed or overdressed. Your hair is down as it always is, a little messed up from the wind, and you had worn lip gloss after Kkami had barked once when you’d asked him.
It’s a simple theater for a simple date. You’re not even sure if you could call it a date, yet you were both ecstatic to finally watch the movie and to watch it with Hyunjin.
Smoothening down the creases of your dress that aren’t even there, you finally catch sight of Hyunjin from afar. He looks so handsome with his white sweater and denim pants, hair tucked behind his ears as he wears a pretty-boy-but-is-unaware smile.
Aphrodite’s son.
He’s waving at you, cheeks flushed in a warmth you fail to see as you try to suppress your own grin.
His knee-jerking reaction to you is open-mouthed staring, eyes moving from your eyes to your lips to your hair to your dress all in the span of a second.
Hyunjin isn’t as relaxed as he thought he was. He had prepared himself to see you again after two days, prepared to watch a movie with you and possibly brush hands as you reach for the popcorn, though he wasn’t quite prepared for the white dress you’re wearing. His brain short circuits, and he’s malfunctioning.
“Shall we head inside?”
He’s not able to respond right away. You’re pretty, and he’s nervous, and you’re pretty, and his palms are sweating, and you’re pretty, and words are failing him, and you’re pretty, and you’re shifting your weight back and forth, and you’re so pretty.
“(Name).” Hyunjin’s finally able to say. “You look beautiful."
You look up at him and he looks away. You can only blush in response as you thank him, fiddling with the necklace you’re wearing.
“I’m wearing this by the way.” If Hyunjin thought he couldn’t smile even more, he was wrong, especially peering down at the necklace he had gifted you. The one you’re wearing.
It was nearly seven o'clock when you finished watching the movie. You’re still excited over seeing one of your favorite Disney princess’s on the big screen, but you’re starting to feel a little tired.
The crowded bus was too much for the both of you, so you decide to walk back together. Thirty minutes might sound like a long walk, but Hyunjin begs to differ if it meant being separated from you at the end of it.
Thirty minutes is way too short to walk with you.
“The movie was fun.” He breaks the silence, and you nod your head in agreement with a huge smile on your face. You can still picture Ariel in your head, yet what stuck out most to you was the panicked way Hyunjin had been when he first walked in before completely relaxing when he was seated next to you.
“Hyunjin.”
“Yes?”
“You seemed like you’ve never been to a theater before.”
“It is my first time.” He looks down at his feet, a small grin tugging on his lips at how he’ll forever be able to hold the memory of watching a movie for the first time in theaters.
Especially when it was with you.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“That’s amazing.” It comes out as a whisper, genuinely shocked that Hyunjin hadn’t bothered coming into theaters at all. There’s so much to him, and you want to learn them all.
“Why don’t we kill some time by playing 21 questions?”
“Okay.” He replies a little too quickly for his liking. He can’t hide his eagerness at getting to know you and everything about you. Like that phone call last night.
“Okay.” You repeat, smiling while nodding your head as you think of a question to ask. “Hmm, what’s your favorite fruit?”
“Apples are my favorite.”
“Wow, you answered so quickly.” A quiet chuckle escapes his lips at the realization. Though, you should’ve made the connection when he had mentioned apples back when you had offered him some ice cream.
“Mine are strawberries!” You point excitedly at the black crochet bag you always carry with you, a big strawberry in the middle.
“Strawberries.” He keeps in mind, looking back at you as you keep talking, asking him one question after the other.
You are so lovely, Hyunjin thinks. The sort of person puts a smile on everyone’s face when you walk into the room. The way you quietly speak and the humble way in which you treat everyone has Hyunjin thinking that you must be unaware of how much of an impact you actually have on the people around you.
Seungmin is thankful for you, admiring your hard work. Hyunjin has caught him rereading the article you had written multiple times, praise leaving his lips when he thinks no one can hear.
Chan sees you as a little sister, so fond of you in such a short amount of time. He thinks he’d do anything to keep that smile on your face.
Felix thinks of flowers when he sees you.
“Oh, the moon looks so pretty tonight.” You suddenly mention, staring wondrously at the bright moon and the way the stars litter the sky.
“Do you wanna sit down for a moment?”
“Can we?” The excitement in your voice is hard to miss as Hyunjin guides you over to sit on a block situated at the side of the street. It’s the perfect spot, offering you a view of the sea and the pretty night sky.
You close your eyes to listen to the waves crashing clearer, to feel the breeze better, to smell the salty scent of the sea.
Your thoughts drift everywhere; to your escape from the city to the first time you met Hyunjin and the way he hadn’t spoken a single word to you. It’s always been at the back of your head, but you never so much as spared it any time to resurface. Though, now was probably the perfect time to ask him about it.
“Can I ask one more question?”
“Of course.”
“When we first met, why did you not talk to me?”
Hyunjin thinks back at the time, almost letting out a small laugh in embarrassment when he remembers the way he had greeted you with nothing but silence. It was only a matter of time before you’d ask him.
“Actually…” He looks down at his hands, carefully folded on his lap. “I have trouble talking to strangers.”
“Does that mean you feel comfortable around me now?” Oh, his stomach doesn’t feel so great at the way you’re looking at him right now. He has never felt such violent butterflies in his stomach.
“Yeah.” Blink and you miss it, the way his eyes flicker to your lips before frisking them away to stare at the moon instead.
You stretch your legs out, swaying them back and forth as you lull your head back to stare at the vastness of the sky. The waves and your subtle breathing are the only sounds that accompany the stillness with Hyunjin.
How long had that same peace transferred from the library to the boy seated beside you?
This moment feels nice, though, it seems to only be a catalyst at making you realize how real your feelings are. Hyunjin really is starting to feel like love.
He looks at you as you’re too busy staring at the little things nature had sent to keep you two company.
“When I’m with you, it’s nice that I don’t have to talk so much.” You say suddenly.
His eyes never once leave you as you speak, and it only has his heart beating faster when he realizes that the look in your eyes is something so similar to the way he looks at you. It’s the same one he gives you when you don’t notice him looking at you. The stripped back and bare softness he shows even when he doesn’t try to.
“It’s the opposite for me.” He speaks with a smile that he doesn’t even notice has grown brighter and brighter. “When I’m with you, I tend to talk more.”
Lovestruck is the only word to describe the way his words slip out of his mouth, and no level of words can possibly describe the softness in his eyes.
“Ever since I was young, talking to someone… always felt like a burden to me. It’s never felt that way with you.”
The way you’re looking at him only encourages him to speak more—your naturally dusted cheeks, gentleness swimming in your eyes, and the wind blowing through your hair. How can you sit there and be so unaware of how beautiful you are?
“This is a little selfish of me but…” Midway through his sentence, he breathes out a little. As if to help him in saying what’s burning on the tip of his tongue. “I hope you don’t leave.”
You lean forward to hear him better.
“When you first came to the library to make a membership card, when we spent the afternoon repairing books, when I took you home when you were completely wasted… when we had ice cream together on the library bench, when we went to interview the old lady together, and when you let me meet Kkami the night we had dinner together…”
What was happiness before he knew what your smile looked like and what your voice sounds like? Hyunjin’s voice gradually softens with each memory he recounts.
“I was happy. I’m truly happy that you came to Angok.”
There's a stifling silence on the other end, as you process his words.
You never stood a chance. You were gone the moment you had set eyes on him, when you had accidentally caused a small commotion in Angok’s public library. You had signed over your heart the second he had uttered his first words to you—“you’re hello again.”
His eyes flicker from yours down to your lips, and there’s a hitch in your breath as you breathe in. It feels as though your heart could explode at any moment.
Hyunjin reaches out to brush a hand against your cheek, tentative as he draws himself closer to you. His hand is warm against the night breeze, and you find yourself leaning against him unconsciously.
“So I really hope you don’t leave.” He whispers, and you breathe at the overwhelming sincerity.
His eyes drop back down to your lips, face hovering over yours. Almost hesitant. It’s like he’s waiting for you to make a move, waiting for you to show you won’t leave. You push your lips in his, and he’s still for a second, as if unable to believe you’re kissing him at this very moment.
When he’s finally able to recover, he keeps a hand cupped on your cheek while the other travels around your waist. He holds you against him tightly, but his lips couldn’t be any more gentle as they move against yours. It’s soft, unmoving even. Your heart flutters when his lips chase after yours after you pull away for a second to catch your breath, and you’re kissing again.
Again and again and again until all you can think about is him. You had always been afraid of seeing the city in his eyes and feeling it in his lips, but you never did.
His eyes struggle to stay open when you push your foreheads together, finally breaking away from the kiss. There’s a small smile on his mouth, the one he always wears with you, and the look of fondness in his eyes.
“I’m not gonna leave.”
A shooting star spears through the dark. You both wish to stay like this forever.
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thirteen.
A few days after your silent confession, Seungmin passes the Civil Licensure exam.
The boy had apparently been trying to hide his success from Hyunjin, yet was unsuccessful when he forgot he had given Hyunjin the log-in credentials to the site when he thought he’d be too nervous to view it himself.
So, you and Hyunjin plan a surprise celebration.
If Seungmin hadn’t been so caught up in trying to hide the secret you had already known about, maybe he would’ve noticed the way Hyunjin disappears from the library sometimes only to reappear, and the way you’ve been on your phone way more often than you normally are.
Getting Seungmin to the rooftop of Chan’s home was easier than you had expected. For someone who asks a lot of questions, Seungmin had simply stared at Hyunjin suspiciously when he had suddenly expressed the urge to watch the night’s constellations at Chan’s roof. Yet, feeling like he owed the boy for driving and staying with him in Seoul, he complies.
The surprise had taken a while to plan, yet everyone was willing to help after hearing the news. Everyone sits on the roof to wait, antsy when they hear Seungmin’s blabbermouth complain about accompanying Seungmin as he gets on the stairs. You all see Hyunjin first, who’s subtly pointing at his back to signal that Seungmin was coming in hot.
When he finally emerges from the steps, all of you jump in a chorus of “Surprise!”
There’s a small tarpaulin with Seungmin’s name and a congratulations tied between two makeshift posts, and the boy hides his face in embarrassment when he spots a poorly photoshopped picture of him on the side of the printed paper.
“It’s nice to celebrate this good news with everyone.” Hyunjin says, and while Seungmin’s continuing to blabber about in mock irritation, all of you know he’s grateful by the way he looks at how the rooftop is decorated in awe. Fairy lights are hung around like additional stars, and everyone has bright smiles on their faces as they all go in to wish the boy their individual congratulations.
“Congratulations on making it to Seoul!” Chan’s voice is booming as he hugs the boy. While Seungmin naturally recoils from any form of skinship, he finds himself returning most of the hugs given to him.
“Make sure you eat a lot.” Minho smiles as he looks proudly at the food he had brought, all set on the table as he prepares to cook some beef to serve as all of you eat.
“Thank you for the food!”
“Is it good?” Minho’s grilling meat on the side, continuing to prepare food as everyone around him eats satisfyingly. Sometimes, Jeongin would get up from his seat to feed Minho a piece to make sure he was eating too.
“It’s so juicy.” Changbin exclaims in pure ecstasy, and Chan can only laugh at his exaggerated response. “Your beef always tastes good, Minho.”
Jeongin’s walking around with a platter of cooked beef to serve for everyone, like he does at Minho’s restaurant. Lovely chatter echoes from the roof, laughter prominent as Jisung is on fire with his jokes. All the while, Seungmin is roasting the poor boy.
“This is the good stuff. Look at the marbling on this meat.” Minho boasts as he sets down the final platter on the table, taking a seat next to Jisung as he finally starts digging in. “Jeongin, come and eat.”
“This is so good.” Your mouth drops after you swallow the piece of beef you had grabbed. Minho just laughs fondly at the praise as he keeps eating.
As your eyes travel around everyone on the table, you can’t help but think of something your mom used to tell you — a home isn't always the house we live in. it's also in the people we choose to surround ourselves with.
Home is the gleeful playing of instruments from Jisung and Changbin, it’s baked in an oven and served fresh as brownies from Felix, it’s grateful smiles from Seungmin, it’s Chan trampled with fondness, it’s the grilled beef Minho is cooking, it’s Kkami barking in happiness as Jeongin plays with him, it’s the hand holding yours and the gentle smile on Hyunjin’s lips as he urges you to eat more.
“Oh, before I forget. I have something for you.” Said boy brings you back to reality, and he pulls out a magazine in his hand, smiling widely as he looks down at it then at you expectantly.
“What is it?” You take it from him, flipping through the pages.
“Youth of Angok. It was released yesterday.”
“No way!” You look for the article you wrote, skimming through the pages before smiling at the photo of the old lady you had taken. “Wait, hold on. Don’t tell me you read it already.”
“No, I haven’t read it yet.” Hyunjin has a fair share of tells when he lies. One of them is in the way he can’t look at you, like the way he’s avoiding your eyes right now. “It was great by the way. You write so well.”
You laugh, giggles blending with Jisung’s music. “Thank you.”
Changbin’s booming voice interrupts all the ongoing conversations, abruptly getting up as he grabs a box he had hidden to the side. “I have a surprise now that we’re all full. Sponsored by Seo’s convenience store, you’re welcome.”
He hands each one of you with sparklers, and it’s absolutely beautiful when he lights them up and pushes everyone to get up and dance to Jisung’s guitar accompaniment as the fireworks glow from everyone’s hold. Like everyone is capable of holding fire in their hands.
Music from your childhood plays in your head, the same one you never thought you’d hear again as Hyunjin tugs on your hand to pull you to where everyone is dancing, a sparkler on the hand that isn’t intertwined together.
“This is so pretty!” Felix exclaims, waving it around as the lights spring out of the stick in his hand. Jeongin’s carrying Kkami now, dancing with him in his arms.
“I’ve never done this before.” Felix looks to you with so much happiness radiating off of him, dancing around as he stares at his sparkler fireworks.
“Me neither.” You reply with the same excitement, looking to see Hyunjin already looking at you with a smile on his face. Pure, unadulterated happiness.
You thought about what happiness is.
You’ve looked it up in a dictionary once—it is a state of being pleased, fulfilled, and content in life. You think that definition is too long.
Happiness. The state of being sufficient.
Happiness. This moment right now.
Hyunjin’s arm snakes around you, pulling you closer to him as the wind flows between all of you, whisking your hair and ruffling your clothes up as happy singing falls in your ears.
“Hi.” He whispers, caressing your waist. It makes goosebumps erupt, and you know what he’s about to do as he presses a short kiss on your lips.
Sometimes, there doesn’t have to be thunderstorms. There’s no need for the sticky swarm of office workers, or the silence of dinners. You don’t have to think of the city. Sometimes, love is tucked away in a little town you least expect to find it. Sometimes, there is time to make happiness. And sometimes, family can be regained.
Your life is sufficient.
You’ll live this life.
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Joke's On You 18
When Fred Weasley carelessly bumps into you into the hallway, you decide to take him a notch down; not by berating him, but by showing him up at his own game of using your charm and intellect to get what you want. And it’s fine if the end result doesn’t leave everyone quite satisfied - in fact, that’s what you want…
[Fred Weasley x Reader.] [Warning: Story Contains Explicit Smut.] [Warning: Non-Consent.] [Warning: Manipulation.] [Warning: Humiliation.] [Warning: Light Bondage.]
⍟ Click Here for Joke’s On You Home Page (All Chapter Links) ⍟
All was fair in love and war. That was very much the motto that you and Fred lived by.
Even while the two of you met up everyday and did all the boyfriend-and-girlfriend things (in your own fashion) and even though the two of you still could not keep your hands off of each other, the entire time, a secret war was brewing.
After the next Hogsmeade trip, you spotted Fred, George, and Lee smuggling a niffler into the castle. You pretended not to notice the snout poking out of Lee’s jacket since Filch was standing next to you, waving his broom threateningly at anyone who seemed suspicious. And you never mentioned it to Fred, but you were waiting for the merest hint of a plan being put into action.
So, when Fred entered your room one afternoon with a jauntier walk than usual and a particular sparkle in his eye, you knew something was up. You acted as you usually would for the entire lunch break. (You stripped off your panties, wore your little heart plug, lay on your bed, and waited for Fred while doing your homework. When Fred came in, he immediately fell forward onto your bed and split your legs apart hungrily. You scoffed and pushed him away with your foot. When Fred whimpered, you playfully crossed your feet in the air as you continued to do your homework.)
Finally, Fred, slightly sullen as you wouldn’t let him have you (“I’ve got homework, Weasley,” you snapped) left ten minutes early (to “er – grab my bookbag,” which he’d apparently forgotten), you gave him a good-bye kiss, pretended to smile and wave, and closed the door after him. However, as soon as you heard his footsteps fade away, you dressed, hurried out, and stationed yourself in front of the Transfiguration classroom, which you thought was the most likely spot that Fred, George, and Lee would pass to come down from Gryffindor Tower to wherever they planned to go.
*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *
Five minutes later, Kenneth joined you. “Looking forward to Transfiguration today?”
“Mhm,” you said, while scanning the corridor like an eagle.
“You know, the Illusion Principles that we’re learning now form the basis of Human Transfiguration at N.E.W.T. level. Isn’t that interesting?”
“Oh, yes,” you agreed. “Simply fascinating.”
“Also, I’ve been meaning to ask you, have you applied for the Wizengamot junior summer internship yet?”
You nodded brightly. “Yes, I submitted my application over winter break. So did David. We reach each other’s essays before we submitted them.”
“Well, I asked Penelope when she received her response last year, and she said it was around this time.”
Your eyes widened. “Really? So we might hear back very soon?”
Kenneth nodded. He hesitated, and then he asked, “So, you’ve still got your heart set on joining the Wizengamot?”
“Yes, of course.”
Just then, you caught sight of Fred, George, and Lee sneaking stealthily through the corridor. You squinted at them and you could just make out the niffler stuffed in George’s cloak.
“Weasley! In the name of the law! Stop right there!”
“What - ?” Kenneth said, taken back.
“Hold this!” You all but threw your bookbag to Kenneth before sprinting the entire length of the fifth-floor corridor to grabFred. You meant to grab the back of his cloak, but you missed and grabbed his hair instead.
“Ow!” Fred yelled. “Get off!”
“Professor McGonagall!” you hollered.
“Let go, you hellcat!” Fred shouted at you. “Now’s not the time!”
“No!” you shouted back. “Now is the time!”
You both wrestled furiously with each other.
“God damn it, you’re supposed to be on my side,” Fred growled. “And leggo of my hair!”
“No,” you stressed, huffing heavily. “And what are you up to, hm? Why aren’t you in class, where you should be?”
“I’m going to class, if you would LET GO OF MY HAIR!” Fred burst out.
Other students stopped to watch the two of you duke it out in the middle of the hallway. Meanwhile, Lee and George placed bets on whether you or Fred would win.
Recognizing that he wouldn’t get out of your clutches quite so easily, Fred yelled, “Boys, soldier down! Go on without me!” and he motioned furiously at George and Lee to take off.
George suddenly wrapped his arm around a bulge in the side of his cloak and he began to take off.
Bollocks, George is the one that has the evidence, you realized. He’s the one actually carrying the Niffler.
Struggling absurdly hard, you finally managed to sit on top of Fred and gather his wrists together and hold them down – at this, Fred paused. Lifting his eyebrow up at you, he said suggestively, “I know you get off on riding me, but do you really wanna show all of these people how much you like me?”
You scowled at him. However, using Fred’s moment of distraction, you managed to pull your wand out of your cloak and point it at George. “Iterdum!”
“Oof!” Hit by your Trip Jinx, George fell over. To his credit, he managed to roll over so that the Niffler wouldn’t get squashed.
“Oi!” Lee cried out. “Toss him to me!”
You leapt to your feet, but Fred managed to hook his leg around yours and bring you back down to the ground.  
This time, it was you who growled, “You let go of me this instant!” “Not a chance, you stupid prefect!”
You saw Fred’s gaze wander up to your hair – You gasped, “You wouldn’t!”
Fred grinned. He reached out and grabbed a handful of your hair.
“No!” you growled.
Fred laughed, mussing up your hair as much as possible while sitting on top of you.
“You’re not even grabbing my hair! You’re just messing it up!” you said indignantly.
“So? Whatcha gonna do ‘bout it, huh?” Fred said gleefully. He stuck both in his hands in your hair and roughly shook his hands.
“Aargh, no! You – You infantile pillock!” you burst out.
Fred smirked down at you, and he said, without an ounce of sincerity, "Oops."
Grabbing Fred’s hands, you seriously grappled with him. Fred’s laugh faded away, and his brow furrowed as he slipped back into focus, trying to keep you under him.
“Fred, I said let go! This is obstruction of justice!”
“You’re an obstruction of justice!”
“Grrr…!” Managing to slip your hand through Fred’s grasp, you lifted yourself as much as possible and latched onto the front of Fred’s hair again.
“You – Ow! Not the hair again! Godric,do you want a bald boyfriend?”
With one hand still tightly gripping Fred’s hair, you lifted your other hand, in which you were still holding your wand, and shouted out, “Accio Niffler!”
Everybody gasped as they saw the poor little niffler get yanked out of George’s cloak with an invisible hand and then go flying pell-mell through the air towards you –
“Damn  it, no!” George shouted. “Don’t let her get it!”
Lee made a grab for the niffler, but he missed. The niffler came flying towards you. You stretched out both your arms to catch it – when Fred tackled you down entirely onto the floor. You found yourself pinned to the floor, with Fred on top of you – and then the niffler landed on top of Fred’s head. The niffler, startled, gripped onto Fred’s hair as hard as it could with its small paws.
Surprised, Fred yelled, “What the - ? Geroff me!”
Just then, Kenneth stepped in and grabbed the niffler out of harm’s way -
“BOYS!”
It was McGonagall. With a sigh of relief, you got up. As you did, you nearly stepped on Fred’s hair. You hastily put your foot down on the edge of Fred’s jacket instead.
Fred said irritably, “Could you please not trample all over me?”
Dusting yourself off neatly while leaving a firm footprint on Fred’s jacket, you replied smartly, “Well, it’s hard when your head is so big.”
Fred glowered at you.
Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall began to tell the boys off.
Out of the corner of his mouth, Fred muttered, “You’re such a prat.”
You merely clasped your hands behind your back and stood proudly beside McGonagall, as she said angrily, “Fred and George Weasley, the pair of you! And Lee Jordan, I thought I told you to…” As McGonagall admonished the boys, you nodded at all of her good points and even shook her head at the boys when she did. All this time, your chest was puffed out in pride and there was a brilliant glimmer of victory in your eyes.
As McGonagall shepherded the boys into her office to hand out detentions, Fred gave you a massive stink-eye and the finger. In return, you gave him the sweetest, most kittenish smile ever before you went flouncing off to Kenneth’s side to pet the cute niffler.
*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *
Five minutes later, Fred came out of McGonagall’s office, only to find you telling off a second year for flying a Fanged Frisbee in the hallway. You were holding a stern finger up as you said seriously, “You could really hurt someone, you know, or damage a painting.”
Fred rolled his eyes. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you tightly. Then, he said to the second year, “Go on, get out of here.”
“Wait – what? No, come back!” you shouted, but Fred had you all wrapped up in his arms, and you found that you couldn’t move an inch.
The second year scurried away, and you called after him, “You better be heading to class! And you make sure to turn that Fanged Frisbee in!”
Pushing his head forward onto your shoulder, Fred whispered, “If you’re done being a uselessly intense vigilante, how about we go back to yours, hm?”
“Go back to mine? For what?”
“You know for what.”
“I certainly do not.”
“Well, how about a little continuance of what you started when you tackled me onto the floor? You know, when you were sitting on top of me, and I was between your legs. Or else, when I was sitting on top of you, and you were between my legs. Either way, it doesn’t matter. I’m not picky.”
You finally squirmed out of his hug. Turning around, you said stolidly, “Excuse me. I did not become a prefect and get my own room to fuel your debauchery, Fred Weasley.”
Fred gently pushed you back against the wall. Then, he lifted his hand and put it up on the wall, trapping you inside of his stature again. In a low voice, he said suggestively, “Debauchery? That’s what you call our love-making?”
Scoffing, you ducked out from under his arm and began walking away. As you did, you muttered, “It’s hardly love-making.”
“Oi, you come back here,” Fred called.
When you ignored him, Fred suddenly galloped forward in a most giraffe-like manner. He caught you by the arm, but you shook him off and said, “We have class, Weasley.”
“And then detention,” said Fred.
“You have detention,” you corrected him. “I would never.”
“Except you do.” Fred grabbed your arm again and twirled you around. He held up a piece of parchment and said, “McGonagall assigned me detention with you.”
At this, you lit up. Excitedly, you said, “Really?” You snatched the parchment out of Fred’s hand and read it. Sure enough, McGonagall had filled out a detention form and given Fred detention under your supervision that evening.
“Oh,” you murmured happily, clutching the piece of parchment to your chest, “this is perfect.”
“Yeah,” Fred said. “I was thinking you could just sign it now, and I could use the evening to steal back the niffler.”
You neatly folded the piece of parchment up and slid it into your pocket. “Mm,” you said lightly, “I don’t think so, Fred. After all, you do deserve this detention.” You reached up and softly brushed at your footprint on Fred’s collar. “You know that, don’t you? And even though it gets rid of my evening, too, I’ll do it. Because I’ve got a vested interest in making sure my boyfriend turns into an upstanding citizen.”
Fred wrinkled his nose and shook his head at you. “An upstanding citizen? That’s your criteria for a boyfriend? Sheesh, you’ve got problems.”
You merely smiled at Fred, so that your eyes turned into pleased little crescents. “See you tonight.” With that, you turned away from him and entered the Transfiguration classroom, where you took your usual seat next to Kenneth.
*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *
After classes and just before dinner, Fred came into the spare classroom for detention –
“Late.” You glared at him. “I can’t believe you’re late.”
Fred shrugged. Leaning against the doorway, he said briskly, “All right, I’ve showed up. Sign the form now, and let’s be on our way. I’m starving.”
In reply, you pointed to a small tin bucket and a plastic knife.
Fred frowned as he peered at the items. “What are those?”
“I seem to remember your mum telling me that you and George try to use magic for everything and that you boys don’t understand the value of doing things slowly and methodically - ”
“I’m never letting you meet my mum again,” Fred grumbled.
“- to build character,” you finished. “So, here’s what you’re going to do, Weasley. You’re going to scrape all the gum off of the desks by hand.”
Fred blinked. “What?”
You rapped the desk smartly with your wand. “Get to it. I want all of these decks spotless or else, no signature for you.”
Fred scoffed. “No way.”
“Why not?”
“It’s stupid. It’s a total waste of time. It’s useless, too, when you can vanish it all by magic.”
“Tsk,” you tutted. “You’re missing the point.”
“And it’s disgusting,” Fred said loudly. “It’s other people’s gum. They spat it out of their mouths, for Merlin’s sake.”
“If you use the knife correctly, you won’t have to touch the gum,” you pointed out.
“And it’ll hurt my knees. I’m not good on my knees - ”
“Now, now, Fred,” you said knowingly, with a sparkle in your eye, “now’s not the time for false modesty.”
Annoyed, Fred crossed his arms and said resolutely, “I’m not doing this, so you better come up with something else.”
You crossed your arms right back at him. “If you don’t, I won’t sign the form, and you’ll simply be assigned another detention with me. And guess what I’ll ask you to do?”
Fred’s eyes turned into narrow slits as he glared at you. “You wouldn’t.”
You leaned back against the desk and crossed your legs. “Try me.”
Fred growled. “You’ve got a real problem with authority, you know that?”
“Oh, I do,” you said, pleased. “But for some reason, the same stupid, lanky-looking - ”
“ – Hey - ”
“moron keeps wandering under my control.” You cocked your head at him. “Why is that, do you think? Why does he keep coming back?”
Fred said nothing, merely kept glaring at you. A muscle was jumping in his jaw.
You smiled at him. But Fred knew that your smile right now was a challenge.  
Fred remained totally still, except for the fire blazing in his eyes.
You, too - even though you had a seemingly pleasant smile on your face, there was an equally intense fire glimmering in your eyes. 
You both faced off, neither of you willing to back down.
Then, all of a sudden – slam! – Fred used his foot to kick the door closed behind him. He strode forward and rather roughly grabbed you by your waist. “Fred!” you cried out. “What d’you think you’re doing?”
“Shut up,” Fred growled. “You’re coming with me.”
Fred quickly dragged you into the tall wardrobe cabinet in the corner of the classroom.
“Ugh,” you complained. “It’s all dusty in here!”
Fred closed the wardrobe door, accidentally pushing you against the shelves a little.
“Ah! Don’t push me like that!” you scolded him, annoyed. “My shirt, I ironed it this morning and it’s going to get all - !”
Fred abruptly grabbed you and kissed you hard enough that you leaned backwards and Fred had to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you from falling. Breathless, you unwittingly let out a soft moan as you melted his arms.
“I said to shut up,” Fred growled at you.
You only moaned again, louder, as Fred attacked your neck with kisses.
“Fine, but you know, it is love making when you moan like that,” Fred whispered huskily. He squeezed you in his arms.  “As for your stupid, clean, ironed shirt – Well, you just gave me an idea as to how to make you pay for today, you little hellcat.” His hands slipped down, grabbed onto the front of your shirt and – Rip! Pop, pop, pop!
You gasped as all of your buttons came off as Fred ripped open the front of your shirt. “Fred! My – My shirt! My buttons!” You started to get angry, but before the anger could really settle in, Fred had kissed you again. You made to claw at him, but he grabbed your hand and pinned it down against the wall behind you. You let out a muffled curse word, but Fred merely grinned into your kiss. He pushed his thigh between your legs – making you moan again – and then it was too late, too wonderfully late, for you’d fallen into his warmth, and you knew that the only way to make your anger known was to give him a hell of a scratching on his back and shoulders as he made sweet, sweet love to you in that tiny, dusty broom cupboard.
Still, even if you couldn’t focus enough to give him your anger, you did manage to communicate your irritation. As Fred kissed you and rubbed your pussy through your panties, while you pushed your hands into his pants and briefs and grasped his cock in your hand, you managed to tell him off. “Y-You’re s’psed to be scraping gum off the d-desks – ah!”
“Mm, I’ve a better use for my hands and knees,” Fred whispered, while pressing his mouth hotly against your neck.
“Like what? Ripping off my clothes like some brute?” You muttered grumpily, “First, my bra – ah, yes, there, Fred, harder – now my shirt, you’re just – ah, ah! – t-terrible. No respect, I tell you. I’ve got a problem with authority? Hmpfh. You’ve got a – ah! – a p-problem with authority, mister.”
“What the hell are you on about now?” Fred growled at you, while he peppered your throat with rough kisses and sucks. 
“Ripping my n-nice clothes like that, without a s-second thought,” you replied, trying to keep your voice adamant as you complained, even as you were panting heavily because Fred was rubbing your clit so, so well. “You’ve got n-no patience, so you don’t know how to – mmm – enjoy the f-finer things in l-life.”
“Well, I said I liked you better naked,” Fred grunted. “It was a compliment, so I don’t know what you’re complaining about – uhn!” He groaned just then, however, as you fisted his cock fervently.
“Tch. I spent a ton of money on that lingerie, I’ll have you know,” you muttered. “And to have it a-all ripped open like t-that – ah – without you even appreciating it f-fully. Do you know how b-bad you made me feel? One second I was – ah, ah – feeling all cute in my little lingerie, and the next second, I was just suddenly all bare. S-Stripped of my cuteness, stripped of my fun. How would you like that, huh, Fred? Ah...!”
Fred pressed his fingers against your pussyhole and rubbed your panties against you as he pressed, “I said I liked you better than the lingerie. Isn’t that better? I told you that you were beautiful.”
“Saying pretty words doesn’t cover up the fact that you ignored my efforts – mm, yes, Fred – and t-treated my gift for you s-so disrespectfully.”
“Disrespectful? I said you were beautiful -uhhhn,” Fred moaned, closing his eyes as you yanked his pants down to be able to pump your hand up and down on his cock better. 
“You didn’t even enjoy it,” you whispered beratingly, as you fell onto your knees. “I thought you’d want to lavish me with kisses and shower me with affection because of how I’d dressed up for you. But no. After I went through all that trouble, all you did was rip it off - ”
“- That was me enjoying it - ”
You looked up at Fred as you positioned yourself before his cock. “Like you’re a selfish, stupid boy.”
“That bra was – It was in the way of nicer things,” Fred huffed out. He then reached out with both of his hands and cupped the air, rather rudely explaining what those ‘nicer things’ were to him.
Your eyes narrowed. “Fred, when will you learn?” You slapped his thigh, and he suddenly jolted. Looking up at him and resting your chin on his hip, you whispered, “It’s not about fucking, it’s about the lead-up. It’s about the power and the anticipation. It’s about the feeling of sex dripping off of everything before we even touch each other. The feeling of taking off a woman’s lingerie slowly, or watching the thin fabric slip down her body, and maybe even catch a little here and there – perhaps on her nipples, or on her hips…? I mean, can you imagine that?”
Fred swallowed. “Uh… I – Yeah, I can, I s’pse.” He paused, however, before he said, “But I’d much rather enjoy the tits - ”
You cut him off. “- And I gave you the opportunity to experience that wonderful feeling of sensuality, which is what gives sexuality its body.”
Fred scrunched his nose at you. “What body?”
You ignored his question and asked him instead, while poking him in his thigh, “And what did you do?”
Fred reached down and slapped away your hand.
But you plowed on and answered for him, “That’s right. You ripped it all off in less than a second and threw it away like it was a piece of garbage.”
Fred stuck to his argument, though his voice became slightly sullen. “I… I said you were beautiful.”
“That’s true,” you relented. “I’ll give you a point for that, I suppose.” You lowered your head and began to slowly lick at his cock with your tongue, while you murmured softly, “But still, think about it and tell me. Ripping off a woman’s lingerie like that, without enjoying it, without appreciating her - is that something a man would do or a boy would do? Hm?”
Fred was slowly turning pink – whether because he was embarrassed because of what you were saying or because of the pleasure he felt at having you on his knees, before him, and licking so sweetly at his cock, even he wasn’t sure.
You sighed once more, and Fred felt your warm breath pass sweetly over his cock. He gulped again. But all you said was, “Consider my position. I mean, what am I supposed to do, hm? How can I please my boyfriend when he’s so impatient? And when I try to come up with ways to teach you patience, you ignore them all, and instead drag me into dusty wardrobes to make love to me. As if all you wanted was to fuck me.” You started to lower your head again, and Fred held his breath – but then you paused and looked up at him. "But you would never be so crude, would you, Fred?"
Fred blinked. "What?"
You were holding your hair neatly to the side with one hand, and you looked up at Fred from beneath your lashes as you suddenly whispered, as if a realization had just struck you, “Do you want me to just be a hole for you, Fred? Is that what you want? As soon as you walk into my room, I’m there, waiting for you, all undressed, completely bare, no lingerie, no nothing, legs spread, pussy wet, plug in, touching myself, maybe even moaning your name, and as soon as I see you there, I would beg for you. I would cry out, ‘Oh, Fred, I need you inside me! Please, sir, please, I’m just a hole. I’m just your hole. Take me, please, I’m yours.’ Hmm?”
You weren’t even doing anything to Fred, but Fred was suddenly panting as though he’d run a marathon. His thighs were trembling slightly, and his cock had become quite hard in your hand. You noticed the way his shoulders were rising and falling quite tensely,  and how he was biting down on his lower lip hard.
You barely checked your wicked little smile as you carried on. “Because a man wouldn’t want that. Oh no, he would want his woman to be just as strong and controlling as him. He wouldn’t simply want a hole, would he? No, no. Because he would know how to appreciate his woman. Only boys would be turned on by the idea of his girl waiting for him on her bed, out of her mind with want and need to be filled by her cute little boyfriend, as if all she could think about all day was her boyfriend’s handsome, hard cock - ”
You suddenly stroked Fred’s cock with your hand, and he let out a barely audible whimper. You had to duck your head for a second to hide the tiny laugh that escaped you at his reaction.
But Fred had heard you. He fell back against the wall behind him, with his head lolling slightly against the wall, and he mumbled out desperately, while his cheeks turned pink, “Stop, you’re making me all – all confused.”
“Oh, Fred,” you whispered sweetly. Nearly purring, you shuffled closer to Fred and hugged his waist and kissed his stomach. “You thought you were dragging me into this wardrobe to have your way with me, but there's nowhere you can take me where you'll end up in control. I will always be in control. You know that by now, don't you?"
Fred moaned out, while shifting against the wall and thrusting his hips slightly but aimlessly, as he was looking for your sweet little mouth to fuck, “No, I am in c-control - uhn - Only I can’t t-think and – and – baby, I need you, I need you, I fucking need you - ” He suddenly reached down, grasped your hair at the back tightly, and -
“Mmpfh!” You let out a startled, muffled cry as Fred abruptly pushed you down onto his cock. You felt your lips spread open as his cock thrust through into your mouth. You gasped in surprise, as you suddenly found your mouth crammed full of Fred’s hard, thick cock.
“Mmmm!” You moaned loudly, and Fred groaned as he felt the vibrations from your sweet mouth run up and down his cock.
“Oh, Merlin,” Fred breathed out harshly. He slid both of his hands into your hair and tangled his fingers with his locks. He pushed and pulled at your head, jerking you back and forth, pushing his cock repeatedly into your perfect little mouth. You let out muffled gasps as you took his cock.
Fred groaned loudly, “Baby, fuck!” – when you suddenly pushed Fred back. He fell back against the wall with a thump.
“Fred Weasley!” you growled. “What are you doing to my hair? You’ve been pulling at it all day!” You reached back and patted the back of your hair down.
“No, no,” Fred wheeled, while reaching for you to draw you back in, “it looks good a little messy, I swear.”
You shook your head, disagreeing entirely with him.
“No, really,” Fred croaked out hoarsely. “When your hair’s all – all messed-up like that, you look – you look… just swell.”
You nearly laughed at this outdated phrase. However, you held in your giggle and instead said seriously, “Fred, do you really think I’m swell?”
Fred nodded vigorously.
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not just saying that because you’re absolutely desperate to have your cock in my mouth?”
Fred started to nod – then he paused, and began to shake his head – only to pause again and stop, confused.
You openly laughed.
Fred looked down at you. He meant to glare at you, but he only looked betrayed and defeated.
You debated in your head for a second, but Fred’s sweet little puppy expression was too much for you to handle. You sighed. “Oh well… Fine, I guess you can mess up my hair. It's not the first time now, is it?"
Fred reached out at once, but you grabbed his wrists and stared up at him sternly as you stated sternly, “Be nice. And you have to buy me a pretty hair accessory after this."
Fred nodded furiously, clearly not carrying about any future conditions, as long as he got to touch you as he wanted now. He immediately and roughly grasped at your hair again and he pushed his hips forward. You opened your mouth obediently, if not wantingly, and – “Mm!” You let Fred dictate the pace for a little longer, but soon, you were much greedier. You suddenly slipped away – Fred let out a confused sound, for he had closed his eyes to take in the utterly perfect feeling of your mouth on his cock – and you crawled forward quickly on your hands and knees. Then, putting your hands up on the wall on either side of Fred’s hips, you pushed yourself onto his cock even more fervently, gagging on purpose as you took in as much of Fred’s thick, handsome cock as you could into your mouth.
“Mmmphf!” you moaned happily. “Mm, mm, mmm!”
Fred gasped loudly. “Nngh! F-Fuck!” He started breathing quite hard, with his chest rising and falling and filling out his shirt entirely. He barely managed to look down and watch with blurry eyes as your head went up and down on his cock. Godric, she feels so good, taking me like that. What a fucking good girl. Uhnn!!! Fred moaned in his mind.
Gradually, your hands went from the wall to his hips and then back onto his cock, until your hands followed your mouth, and while your mouth was warm and wet on his cock, your hands were twisting and squeezing and going up and down –
“E-Enough! Fuck, you’re g-gonna make me cum,” Fred groaned, and he half-heartedly pushed you away from him.
You fell back on the floor, with a soft, indignant, “ah!”
Fred wondered if you were about to scold him for pushing you off like that, but all you did was smirk and say knowingly, “Trying to save your pride this time, Mr. Three Minutes?”
At this, Fred turned tomato red.
You burst out laughing. “See?” you said, pointing gleefully at him. “You can’t even deny it, can? Oh, poor Freddie – Ah! Fred!” You gasped as Fred suddenly came over, grabbed your arm, and yanked you up. He hurriedly pushed you up against the door. Then, he bit at your neck roughly as he growled, “I’ve had enough of you yapping away.”
Oh… Your eyes widened, and you felt your thighs shiver when you heard his deep, genuine growl. Still, you made your point known, as you protested, “I’m only saying what’s true!”
“Yeah, but it’s you who made me that way,” Fred huffed out. “It’s you who drives me fucking crazy. It’s you who… who…” His voice faded away as he abruptly realized that he was confessing to you.
Meanwhile, you had turned your head and were staring back at him with wide, curious eyes.
Fred blinked. What did I just say?
“Fred,” you whispered. “Is that the truth? Are you telling the truth?”
“I – No – Well - ” Defensive, Fred blurted out, “You know, instead of telling me off for thinking about pranks and pussy, maybe you should think more about boys and - ” Fred leaned forward and bit your ear, making you squirm against the door “ – mischief.”
“What does that even mean?” you said, annoyed. “That’s the dumbest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Well, no, that’s the dumbest thing anyone’s ever said ever.”
Meanwhile, Fred fumbled with the back of your skirt and thrust his hand into your panties, checking that you were still wet.
“Soaked,” he confirmed. “Fucking soaked through. You were just having fun with me, weren’t you? Tch.”
A small smile escaped you and you whispered, rather victoriously, “Well, shouldn’t I?”
Fred growled. At the same time, he impatiently pushed your skirt out of the way, tugged aside your panties, and pushed his aching cock into your tight little hole.
“Ah!” Your hands shot to the spot on the door directly in front of you. Pushing against that little spot, you arched your back, until your head fell back against Fred’s shoulder. Your sweet mouth was now open, letting out your arching cry as Fred finally stuffed you full in your wet cunt.
Fred growled into your ear, “You stupid prefect, it means you should think about me.” He reached over and yanked at your hair. “And only me. No more rules, no more expectations, no more acting stupidly ‘proper’ – just think about me, baby – taking you, being inside of you, making love to you. And think about the better course is to join me and help me with my pranks and to let loose your mischievous side, hm? I know how naughty you are, you little devil. I fucking know - ” he pushed into you so hard that your tummy and hips met the door for a moment, and you moaned lowly and shuddered against the door – “what a mischievous little minx you are. I mean, just fucking your little pussy and feeling how tightly you squeeze around me, like such a slut – I can tell you’re all bad inside.”
“Ah…” you breathed out as you felt your head being tugged back. “F-Fred… I do think about you…”
“Do you?” Fred whispered, softening slightly.
You smirked and finished, “…and how I’ll sabotage your next prank.”
Fred said, through gritted teeth, as he felt your pussy squeezing all over his cock, “Damn you. You just couldn’t let go today, could you? Huh? D’you know how long it took to get that niffler into the castle without Hagrid and Filch finding out?”
You whispered back, “No one told you to waste your time like – ah - that.” You closed your eyes and hummed, “Mmm… Yes, like that,” as you felt Fred’s cock sinking roughly into your pussy. You suddenly lifted your hips and bounced yourself lightly against Fred, clearly enjoying very much the position he’d put you in. 
Fred sighed, both quite annoyed and yet endlessly pleased that you’d gone straight from berating him to voicing your pleasure at his being inside of you.
Only a second later, you reached back and impatiently tapped on Fred’s thigh. “Move.”
Irritated, Fred pushed back, “I’m trying to be nice to you. Let you adjust.”
“Don’t need it,” you said at once. “Move.” You wiggled your hips impatiently. “I said move.”
“Merlin, you’re bossy,” Fred said, annoyed. “Fine. You asked for it, now.” Grabbing your hips tightly, Fred thrust.
“A-Ah! Ah! F-Fred!” A burst of warmth blossomed deep in your tummy. Your eyes widened, and for a long moment, your toes curled in your sneakers.
Oh Godric, you moaned in your head. ‘S so deep, nngh…!
Fred groaned heavily and fell forward, pushing you up against the shelves. Unable to think straight, he leaned down and bit you hard on your shoulder.
“O-Ow, uhn, F-Fred, baby,” you muttered, feeling his teeth against your skin and also feeling your breasts and tummy sink into the wooden shelves.
“Uhn, fuck,” Fred breathed out. His hands fumbled all over your hips for a moment, before he managed to find your hands. Grasping your hands in his, he made you put your hands up on the shelves. Then, pinning you down like that, with his chest pressed snug against your back and his chin resting on your shoulder, Fred whispered, “You may have won the battle today, but I’ll win the war.”
Your breath caught – but you fought past it and whispered back, “I’ll never let you, Mr. Three Minutes.”
Fred slammed into you then and you cried out blissfully – “Ah!” and lost all sense of thought after that.
You vaguely remembered that when you started to cum, Fred disappeared from behind you. You let out a displeased cry, wanting him back at once and needing him to press his wonderfully warm body up against yours again. But then, you gasped as you realized that Fred had fallen to his knees and was now greedily pulling you to him. You grabbed at the shelves before you with your hands, but your feet had already slid back. Fred moaned loudly before he buried his face between your legs to lap up every bit of your cum, dripping sweetly from your flushed little pussy – and then to make you cum more.
You let out a long, low moan as you felt Fred’s tongue push greedily at your pussyhole – and then slip in. “Fred!” you breathed out loudly.
A muffled cry escaped Fred, as he was too busy tasting you and fucking you with his tongue to give much of a coherent reply.
When you came again, Fred pressed his face against you so deeply that he pushed your entire body forward, and you felt yourself sliding into the shelves.
“Fred!” you complained, but he wrapped his arms around both of your thighs and kept your anchored there.
At some point, Fred had gotten quite good at eating you out. In fact, he’d gotten much better at it than you would care to admit, and you suddenly found yourself at high risk for becoming the mindless, pathetic, whimpering puddle that you often teased Fred for becoming.
But I’m not Fred, you reminded yourself fiercely. I’m not as easily distracted, and I know how to hold onto my power and my dignity – ah! Ah, ah, ah!
You bit down hard on your lower lip to contain the feverish, wanton cries that were threatening to burst out of you as Fred, with his head buried between your legs, busily licked, kissed, sucked, and tongued your cunt to heaven. 
Ohhh… you moaned in your head. I-I’m close – ah! – I’m so close… Ahhh…!
You tried to cum quietly, pressing your fist against your mouth, but it was difficult. Fred was treating you so good, like a proper queen, and whenever you came, instead of thinking it was over, Fred only seemed to be spurred on more, as he was determined to lap up every drop of your sweet cum. And whenever you pulled away be so much as an inch, to try to prolong the moment before cumming, Fred dragged you right back, sometimes pulling just your hips forward, but when you resisted at all, he pulled your entire body forward, shifting you, and he didn’t even seem to notice.
“Fred – This isn’t – I wanna – Let’s find a – a proper b-bed,” you moaned loudly, as fifteen minutes later, your elbows were rubbed raw as you kept shifting back and forth against the shelf that you were leaning over.
“Nuh,” was all Fred said, before he put his mouth back onto your pussy and at the same time, reached up to rub your clit with his slender, handsome fingers.
You cried out loudly – and your cries echoed slightly in that tiny, enclosed space. Your legs trembled all over and then, after a while, your feet began to slip over the stone floor because of how much you were shaking. 
At one point, when you came, your legs buckled and your thighs bowed together. Fred had to shift back for a moment, and he whined as he realized he wouldn’t be able to have you cum on his mouth this time. But all you said was, “Shush, puppy, this is your fault, so you – you have to – to wait,” and he waited patiently for you to find your strength and open up your legs for him again.
As soon as you managed to split apart your shaking thighs away, Fred pushed his face back between your thighs. “Mine, mine, mine,” Fred growled, while biting and kissing you all over your thighs and tonguing your pussy roughly. “Mm, yes. You’re so pretty, baby. All wet and shaking…” He let out a furious, deep growl as he buried his head between your legs.
You let out a choked whimper and bowed your head to huff out heavy breaths.
And then, finally, when you were dizzy and blurry and shuddering from cumming so much, Fred stood up, grabbed your hips, and pushed his aching cock back into your aching hole – and you both gasped desperately, so terribly and wonderfully overwhelmed by how sensitive you’d made each other and how fucking much you still wanted each other.
“Nnghhh…” you bleated out tiredly.
“Baby - ” Fred began worriedly. His own voice was hoarse, as he started to say, “If you want to st - ”
But you snapped back at him, “D-Don’t you dare stop. I s-swear to Merlin, if you stop now, I will kill you, Fred Weasley.”
That was, of course, exactly what Fred wanted to hear. So, he thrust right back into you, ignoring his own burning muscles – and you moaned appropriately, taking into your pussy as much of Fred’s hard, needy cock as you possibly could. And you loved it, you fucking loved it, because it felt so good, yes, but also because it was Fred, and in your heart of hearts, you wanted and needed Fred to be as close to you as he could possibly be. 
“F-Fred,” you huffed out.
“What?”
“D-D’you think it’s n-normal for two people to – ah – w-want each other so much?” you wondered aloud, even as you felt Fred’s cock pounding into you from behind and you knew you wanted more. “And a-all the time, too?”
Fred merely replied, in total honesty, “D-Don’t care, baby, I want you,” and kept going.
“But I r-really meant to give you d-detention tonight,” you stuttered out.
“You didn’t mean for this to happen?” Fred whispered hoarsely.
You shook your head.
“You didn’t mean to end up in a dusty wardrobe, with your neat shirt all ripped open, your thighs drenched with cum, and your little pussy getting fucked so hard it definitely belongs to me, your boyfriend?” Fred panted out, as he rutted into you.
You shook your head harder. "No, I even got up - ah - early to i-iron my shirt. It wasn't - I didn't think you'd r-ruin it like t-that."
"Well, you should have thought ahead, shouldn't you?" Fred said, rather meanly. "You know what happens to dictators and devils, don't you? They fall. They get their comeuppance."
"But I'm - I'm an angel," you murmured back.
"Mm, I don't think so," Fred said knowingly. "With the way your pussy gets all tight for me - no, I wouldn't ever call you an angel." He leaned over and bit your ear softly. He whispered lowly into your ear, "Hellcat" - and then he thrust into you.
"Ah!" you gasped.
"Bend over more on the shelf," Fred told you. He pushed his hands down against the arch of your back and said impatiently, "C'mon."
"Don't push, Fred," you said irritably. But even as you told him off, you dutifully leaned over, until you were nearly pressing your cheek against the shelf. In so doing, you naturally pushed your hips and pussy out slightly more.
Fred quickly grabbed your hips again and he pushed himself back into you. He groaned loudly as he felt his cock burrow deeper inside of you than before. Fuck, she's tight... Mm, she takes me so well, my girl, he moaned in his head. All tight and wet. And I'm gonna cum in her. Gonna fill her up with me. Yes... Yes, yes, yes!
Oh - oh - ohhh! Godric, he's so deep in me! you gasped in your head. A series of desperate moans fell from your lips, “Uhn… Uh… Uhn!”
Fred was now hitting you deeper and deeper, and he quickly lost himself in the utter ecstasy of pounding your sweet, warm, and tight pussy. He was holding your hips so tightly and, having pressed you up against the shelves, you had no place to go, and when Fred glanced down to see his broad hands covering your shapely hips and your shoulders shivering all over as you made every effort to hold yourself together as Fred fucked your cunt, it made his head spin with how much he wanted you.
Fred praised you breathlessly, “Mm, baby, has anyone ever told you that you look fucking perfect, taking my cock so well?”
To which you replied, irritatingly rationally, “N-No, why would anyone e-ever say that to – ah – me?”
“Well,” Fred scoffed, “they should.” And he proceeded to snap his hips forward, slamming his cock inside of you.
“Ahhh!” You moaned and arched your back – and Fred fell in love with you all over again, thinking that you looked absolutely stunning like that.
“There you go,” Fred whispered lowly. He ran his hands appreciatively all over you as he fucked you, and both of your cries became more and more hoarse and needy until –
“Uhn!”
“Mmmmm!”
Fred kissed you messily all over the back of your shoulders as he came inside of you, and you, still leaning forward onto the shelves, took it all like a champ – letting Fred lean on top of you and kiss you and at the same time, taking in every bit of his hot, white cum in your tired little pussy.
Then, Fred whispered, “Sign the form, baby. After all, you have made me work tonight. On my knees and everything…”
“W-What…?” you mumbled tiredly. Your entire body felt feverish, and your pussy was still pulsing, and you could feel Fred’s cum inside of you, filling you right up.
“Here.” You felt Fred push something into your hand. The next second, Fred pressed into you slightly, with his chest against your back, and his hand wrapped warmly around yours. You felt your hand move… You blinked your eyes open tiredly and looked to see that Fred was guiding you to sign your name on the detention form, confirming that he’d finished his detention duties.
Oh… No… you thought. I meant to hold onto this for much longer… It was my ‘call Fred in for the evening’ ticket. I didn’t want to let go of it so soon.
“Fred,” you bleated out. Only – snatch! Fred grabbed the paper out from under your hand and he stuffed it into his jacket pocket.
“Thanks, love,” he whispered. “But I’ll leave you a little ‘thank you’ gift in your pocket, all right? Open it when you can.”
“Hm?” As the buzzing slowly faded from your blushing body, you realized that Fred was fixing your clothes for you. As you watched, he took something out of his own jacket pocket and put it in yours.
Fred came over to you and helped you put on your shirt and jacket. When he helped you button up your shirt, you looked up at him. You weren’t sure what kind-of gaze you gave him, but Fred paused, leaned down, and kissed you again.
It was a long kiss, and surprisingly soft. You found yourself quite surprised at how Fred was suddenly taking his time with you, lavishing your mouth with soft, sweet kisses. His hands were at your waist, but he was holding you quite lightly. You could feel his palms grazing across your waist through your shirt… You slowly wrapped your arms around Fred’s shoulders and tilted your head slightly. Fred followed you well, still only kissing you gently, but pressing his lips to yours for a long, long time. At some point, the two of you began to breathe together, taking in air at the same time while keeping your mouths pressed together in a rather dreamy fashion.  
Wow… Your head spun a little, not with how intense it was, but how intimate it was. You felt yourself getting dizzy all over again. Oh, but why…? What’s going on? Startled, your heart suddenly skipped a beat. You quickly stepped away from Fred, breaking the kiss.
Fred stood there, breathing quite heavily. He was thinking the same thing as you were: What the hell was that?
Um, it must just be the aftermath of such intense sex, you told yourself, as you quickly got dressed. But even then, you knew that that wasn’t true.
You quietly patted down your hair. “Should we – ahem – Should we go back?” you asked, trying to sound like your normal self.
“Yeah…” Fred’s voice was soft. His normally playful tone of voice had melted into a strangely patient tone. And even his tall, lanky stature seemed less arrogant, and rather quieter and more centered.
He suddenly seems... dependable. Like someone I can rely on, someone I can imagine being by my side, through thick and thin, for the rest of my – You swallowed hard, and you cut off your thoughts. No, what am I saying to myself? Godric, I can’t – I can’t seem to think straight.
All of a sudden, you blurted out (even though Fred wasn’t actually standing that close to you and wasn’t moving towards you in the slightest), “That’s enough, Fred! No more. Don’t be so pathetic.”
Fred blinked. “Huh?”
You said adamantly, “You’ve got your detention form signed, so let’s – let’s get out of here!”
You wrenched open the wardrobe door and left first.
“Hey, wait, I’ll walk you back,” Fred called after you.
But just then, you stuck your hand into the wardrobe and held up your index finger. “No! You stay there and count to one hundred before you come out of there. And next time – gum!”
Fred’s nose crinkled in total confusion. However, you were already gone, and Fred had to stay there, in that dark, musty wardrobe, and wait until you were gone. He didn’t count to one hundred, but he did think about you and by the time he was done musing over your blushing face and strange personality, it was much longer than one hundred seconds.
Reckon it could easily be a whole lifetime, Fred thought, as he finally opened the wardrobe door and stepped back out. But then, a satisfied smirk passed over his face as he realized, Well, I don’t know what the hell that was at the end, but I did get what I wanted from that. Not only did I get her to sign off on my detention form without me scraping off gum, but I wonder when’s she going to notice the other little tricks I played on her… We’ll see. The normal bounce in his step had fully returned by the time Fred left the classroom. He immediately slipped into a secret passageway, intending to meet George and Lee to steal back the niffler.   
*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *
You sat next to Kenneth at the dinner table.
Kenneth looked over at you. “Hello.”
You smiled pleasantly at him. “Hi, Ken.” You waited to see if he’d notice anything about you.
Kenneth only sipped his goblet of pumpkin juice.
You let out a quiet breath of relief.
But then, he said quietly, “You’re missing a button.”
You looked down – and sure enough, you could see a glimpse of your tummy due to a missing button. You quickly covered it with your hand.
“And your hair’s sticking up in the back.”
Ah! You dropped your plate and reached back over your shoulder. Fred yanked at it quite a bit today, didn’t he? you though, as you hurriedly patted down the back of your hair. He’s really bad at treating me nicely. Well, except for whatever that was at the end… When he fixed my clothes for me… And that soft kiss… Anyways.
You looked over at Kenneth and said, with a small smile, “Thanks.”
Kenneth shook his head and said something under his breath, but you didn’t quite catch it.
You started to ask him what he had said, when Kenneth held out a thick envelope to you. It was stamped with “Ministry of Magic – Official Invitation” on the front.
Your eyes widened. “Oh, Ken, it isn’t - ?”
Kenneth nodded. He held up a second, identical envelope. “Yes. I got mine, too. McGonagall left yours with me. She said you were busy supervising a detention and asked me to give – whoa!”
Kenneth started when you flung your arms around him and squeezed him in a hug. Then, you grabbed the envelope from his hand and eagerly ripped it open. “An interview! They want to interview us for possible Wizengamot internships!” You looked up at Kenneth and beamed. “We’ve got to do well! We can drill questions together and study the Wizengamot’s history, structure, and policies.”
A slow smile passed over Kenenth’s face. “Yeah,” he agreed, “that would be a smart thing to do. Let’s do that.”
*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *
“It is kinda cute, isn’t it?” Lee was lying on the floor of his, Fred, and George’s dormitory, while dangling a piece of lettuce in front of the niffler they had managed to steal back. The niffler was decidedly uninterested. Instead, the niffler started sniffing at a small button on Fred’s desk. Fred, who was pulling out the draft order from for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes from his desk drawer, noticed.
“Oi, that isn’t yours. Paws off,” Fred muttered, shooing the niffler away.
“Yeah, well, don’t get too attached,” George cautioned. “You can’t keep it as a pet. Unless you come with Fred and me to start out shop in two months. What d’you say, Lee? You’ve helped us make all of our stuff, helped us test it, and helped us set up shop. Come with us, mate.”
At this, Lee groaned and turned over onto his back. “I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. My mum would kill me.”
“So? Our mum’s going to kill us and then dig us back up just to Avada Kedavra us again,” George said knowingly. “Join the club.”
Fred looked over the order form. They were nearly finished with figuring out all of the pricing again. But when he made to flip over the form, he realized that he’d also accidentally pulled out the copy of their lease agreement.
Lee was still speaking. Now having picked up the niffler and put him on his stomach, Lee complained, “Yeah, but you’ve got siblings who’ve already done good by your parents. Me, I’m all by myself, so if I don’t do things right, my parents think the world’s coming to an end and they blame themselves and, it’s just… ugh! - “
Just then, Fred interrupted, “Hey, George.”
“What?”
“This lease… It starts in two months.”
“Yeah.”
“But what if we start the lease without starting out physical store?” George paused. “What d’you mean? It’d be stupid not to use it as soon as we can. It’s too expensive to justify using it as only a storage place. And it’s not like we can rely on staff to run it when we haven’t set anything up ourselves. I mean, let’s face it, if we don’t do well, we won’t be able to afford staff beyond us two - ”
“- And me - ” Lee interjected.
“Yeah, but you’re not joining for another two years,” George said.
Lee sighed, and the niffler, who had been unable to find anything shiny in the boys’ dormitory, sighed with him.
George looked back at Fred. “Don’t you want to open our store? I mean, it’s all we’ve been waiting for for over a year. I thought you couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here.”
“Yeah, of course,” Fred replied. “I do want to get the hell out of here. And it’s the dream – to have our own store and actually start selling our products.”
George nodded. He came over and clapped a hand on Fred’s shoulder. “We’re so close, Fred. We’re really almost there.”
Fred grinned. “Yeah, I know.”
“Oi, Lee,” George called.
“What?”
“Stop moping around and help finish up the prices,” George said.
Fred, who was holding the order form, tossed it at Lee.
Lee sat up, grumbling, “Don’t order me about, when I’m the only one who can manage to figure out the prices.”
Fred was now holding just the lease agreement. He stared at it, and his grin faded slightly. He slowly put down the agreement and his eyes flickered over to the drawer where he’d just put away your button.
Behind him, Lee murmured thoughtlessly, “Hm… punching telescope. How much went into making that?”
“Not much for the actual construction,” George replied. “Just crossed the blueprint of the mechanisms of a regular ol’ jack-in-the-box with the blueprint of the shell of a telescope, and there you have it.”
“How much for creating the permanent ink?” Lee asked. “I assume a lot because it’s a novelty - ”
“Nope,” Fred said lightly. “Didn’t cost a thing.”
“Really?” Lee said, surprised. “How come?”
“Because,” Fred replied, “I know someone really, really smart.”
“Did you pay this person?” Lee asked seriously.
Fred thought about it. “I deposited a bit of payment into her pocket today… But it was more of a ‘thank you’ gift than anything else.”
Lee shrugged. “Okay, then, moving on.”
Fred smiled slyly to himself. Yeah, it’s a ‘thank you gift’ all right. In truth, Fred was now secretly waiting for you to come to him, in what he hoped would be a heightened state of fury.
All’s fair in love and war. Putting his feet up on the desk, Fred whistled lowly as he thought affectionately, And with my little hellcat, I’ve somehow managed to find both.
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raineandsky · 5 months
Text
#80
(part 1) (part 2)
tw: alcohol mention
A long day on the job usually finds the hero in the nearest bar.
Can you blame him? He spends his day punching people. He usually gets punched in return. The least he deserves is an evening to relax and think about something other than how much of a nuisance his nemesis is.
So here he is once again, ordering a pint of beer from the bartender and draping himself over a bar stool in a comfortably familiar routine. He watches idly as a band sets up on the humble stage at the front—someone fiddles with the mic stand, another with a drum kit at the back.
Other patrons are watching too, for lack of anything better to do. Some sip at their drinks like it’s part of the show. Another band member hops onto the stage to plug a guitar into the amp.
The hero’s eyes drag lazily as the person leans back upright, shaking his hair out of his face as he does and glancing out over the crowd. The hero’s heart leaps nauseatingly into his throat as he’s met with the face of the villain.
Seemingly satisfied with the congregation, the villain gets to twinging the strings on the guitar, the sound humming through the floorboards under the hero’s feet. The vibration is snaking up his legs and straight into his already anxiously clenched muscles. His knuckles are turning white on the beer glass. He’s going to shatter it if he’s not careful.
But what can he do? He’s out of uniform, off the job. The villain’s on a goddamn stage in front of a giant group of onlookers. His options are limited. His best bet is to wait it out to the end and jump on the villain when he inevitably makes his escape backstage somewhere.
The band nods to each other—guitar, drums, vocals. The singer steps up to the mic, and it shrieks in protest as she taps it testily.
“Good evening, y’all,” she opens with a drawl akin to that of an uninterested teenager. “We’re Knights of the Black Realm. This is our original song: Revenge Means Chaos.”
The guitar kicks in first. The sound is soft at first, subdued, sweet. The drum adds a rough tang to it, and by the time the singer is sweeping through the first verse the song is in full swing.
The villain’s fingers move smoothly over the strings, mischievous delight woven into his grin. The sound from his guitar is incredible, for lack of a better word—the gruff twang hovers over the fragility of the vocals, the sharp edge provided by the drums. It’s beautiful, and the hero hates it.
The song flickers into a second song like there isn’t a moment to waste. Then a third, and a fourth, and a sixth and a tenth and a fifteenth. The other patrons clearly love it, cheering and bobbing up and down to the tune. All the hero can do is sit in perfect stillness and glare hatefully.
The villain’s gaze flits over the crowd again. He scans the darkened corners near the bar this time, and his eyes lock with the hero’s from across the room.
It would’ve been romantic if the hero hadn’t been watching with barely contained disdain.
The villain looks surprised for a moment, caught off guard, before his face splits into another grin. Knowing, cocky. I’d like to see you try, it mocks. The hero scowls back—you know damn well I will.
The twentieth-something song ends with a single sinking note. The villain steps forward to whisper something to the singer, and she laughs heartily at whatever he said.
“Special request!” she announces with a giggle. The villain steps back into place with a smile. “This one’s for all the hardworkin’ heroes out there tonight, defendin’ our beautiful city. This is My Eyes Are Only On You.”
Oh, the irony. That piece of shit.
The villain’s stare is unmoving from the hero now. Another grin is slowly working its way onto his face; proud. Arrogant. Annoying.
The song is smooth, like a tune made of silk. It’s slow, unneedy, unbothered. The guitar is as effortless as ever, the villain’s rhythm no more than a gentle rock within the river of the song.
The song thankfully reaches its end, and all three members of the band are smiling—though, the hero guesses, for very different reasons.
“Thanks, y’all!” The singer seems in higher spirits than she started. “We’ll be playin’ again next week at the Lousy Farmer, and then we’ll be back here for…”
The hero tunes her out. He’s on his feet, watching the villain hastily pull cables from amps. The hero’s almost in front of the band when his nemesis cuts his losses and hops down the back of the stage, trailing wires from his guitar like confetti.
The hero positively startles. He has to go the long way, naturally—he skirts the stage, barrelling for the door leading to the bar’s back alley he knows the villain will be aiming for. The door clatters loudly off the brick wall outside, but the alley is empty. The city’s big; the moment the villain left the bar he could’ve gone anywhere.
The hero wears another scowl now as he turns back inside. Looks like he’s just found a new favourite band. Next week and the Lousy Farmer it is.
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ayekittyk4t · 2 years
Text
all you girls try to be saints, i’ll make you wanna sin
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♱ Desc: A battle of who can make the other more jealous ends in a much, much more exciting way.
♱ Pairing: Plug!Eren x AFAB reader
♱ Content Warning: Unestablished relationship, friends with benefits, possessive behavior, spit, thigh fucking, choking, biting, hair pulling, manhandling, cream pie
♱ Word Count: 5473
a/n after months i’m finally bringing back plug!eren bc i randomly got the motivation to write. i’ve been trying to write him again for a while so i really hope u guys enjoy bc this mf has me stuck. title is from oddlook. give it a listen ;)
wattpad | ao3
(Chapter 3)
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The low hum of your favorite song plays softly through the bedroom. A scented candle lit and filled the room with the aroma of citrus and basil. Along with it, wafts the faint scent of marijuana. The wind blows in through the open window, shouts of children playing below and music coming from the neighbor's garages blare into the room. Past the window, the sun is setting into the horizon while the moon readies itself to shimmer with the stars. Brisk air rushes once more, hitting the bare skin on your thighs as you smooth your dress out in front of your full-length mirror.
“How does it look?” you ask softly while twirling and checking yourself out. Peering over your shoulder, you wait for a response from him. Erens eyes skim your body as he sits in your velvet pink chair, legs kicked up onto the matching ottoman. An arm hangs out the window, joint attached to his nimble fingers. His other is thrown over his head, running his hands through thick brown locks.
Perfect, he wants to say. He doesn’t know why you’re even asking. The little black dress hugs your body perfectly, sweetheart neckline scooping your plump breasts, gold hoops, and a matching initial necklace adorning your chest.
Christ, he mumbled under his breath. You looked just so good to him. Eren wanted to take you right then and there, work his fingers magically into you, split you open with his ring and middle, rubbing that spongy spot inside you. His thumb circles your clit, lips on your neck, licking and sucking violet bruises into your skin. You’d be crumbling in his hands. Shaking and moaning, scratching his back, and pulling his hair. Your hair is a mess, your makeup is ruined with tears, and your dress torn. Eren would think you were the most beautiful of all still.
“Good.” is all he says.
“Just good?” you look over your shoulder, head tilted back and brows furrowed in uncertainty. Eren watches as you pout at him, a fresh set of burgundy colored stiletto nails playing with your necklace.
His eyes drag across what you’re wearing once more. The dress was short, your ass was hanging out and if you were gonna dance the way you always did, you were going to give everybody a perfect view of your panties. He didn’t like that one bit. He knew what people said about you, how many people wanted to be with you.
“Man, if I could fuck around with that piece of ass.” Porco would mummer under his breath, hungry eyes eating you up as you danced with a friend. he’d nudge Eren, giving him a toothy smile that made him want to knock his teeth in.
“Fuck off, Porco.”
“What? If you aren’t gonna fuck her, I’d gladly do it.” Porco throws his hands up defensively, chucking and mumbling something Eren couldn’t hear.
If only that asshole knew how Eren would make you feel. How you were in the backseat of his car just an hour ago, ass in the air as he pounded into you. Hands holding your hips, and nails piercing your skin. He’s grunting, you’re moaning and skin is slapping skin.
“Why? Are you trying to look nice for someone at the party?” Eren snorts, lip twitching and curving into a smirk. The way his tone makes you wonder if he’s trying to get something from you, almost like he’s jealous.
The smirk on your rouge lips mirrors him, only growing larger into a smile from your realization, “are you jealous?”
Yes, he was.
“Answer my question first.” his gaze averts to the window. Below a car passes and ashes fall from his joint. you’re quite speechless, watching as he brings his hand back into the room and takes a long drag from the joint.
You had no idea where this behavior was coming from. You also didn’t know whether it was something you liked or disliked. All you could do is scoff and roll your eyes.
“For your information…” you begin, taking a seat at your vanity to touch up your makeup, “I am not getting ready for anyone but myself.” you dab blush onto your cheekbones, “You have no right to be jealous anyway.”
Erens shifts in his chair, your comment immediately caught his attention. You keep your eyes glued to your figure in the mirror. The conversation had shivers crawling all over your body, goosebumps growing on your thighs and arms. There wasn’t an idea in your mind where it would go next.
“Why?”
A pause and you’re turning to face him. The look in his eyes is unreadable. Was he angry? Was he disappointed? Was he happy? He had a blank gaze and flat lips, there wasn’t anything to even read.
“You’re not my boyfriend.” A scoff leaves your lips as you shake your head in disbelief.
There’s a long pause in the room. The space seems to shrink between your shared gazes, and the mixture of the lit candle and cannabis is making you nauseous.
Erens eyes narrow, turning away slowly with a lazy smile. You do the same, ignoring his presence to choose which perfume you’d wear tonight.
Though you don’t see him do so, you hear him. He's putting out the joint on your windowsill as you study the bottles. Swinging his legs over the ottoman, groaning lowly as he does so. You pick up a bottle. His steps are quiet, yet so heavy. each one seems to mimic your increasing heart rate. You spray each side of your neck. Honeysuckle and Vanilla. The steps stop, and you can just feel him behind you.
“Look at me.” With a slow shut of your eyes, you ignore Erens demand, spraying more perfume onto your wrists.
Eren wasn’t amused one bit. Rough hands cup your chin, pulling you - forcing you to look at him. His hands were warm and reeked of burnt weed. You scrunch your nose in disgust, but Eren can read you like a book, knowing already that you were going to spit something so vulgar at him. He tightens his grip on your chin, hoping it’d prevent you from speaking. It does.
“I fuck you, right?” He catches you off guard. You wonder where the conversation was going but you didn’t want it to go wrong. This was the uncharted territory between you and Eren.
You nod, nostrils flaring.
“I make you cum too.” It sounds like a question, but it’s a statement. He makes you cum a lot.
You nod.
“And who buys you all this?” Thick fingers reach your necklace. He grabs the chain, letting it dangle between his finger.
You swallow hard, but there’s a lump stuck in the depths of your throat, “You do, Eren.”
He’s at peace with your answers, both hands falling free from you. However, his eyes are still glued onto you giving you a warm smile. Still, behind his warm smile is one coated in wickedness.
You can't help but feel yourself heat up. Warmth flooding your cheeks, ears, and chest. Warmth filling you everywhere. A pooling between your legs follows.
“I’ll be in the car.”
He leaves the room.
You're frozen for a while before turning back to the mirror. You fix your hair a little, adding one more spray of perfume to your nape.
It was a rare occasion for you to drink. Alcohol never sat right with you and it made you do things. The way it burns going down your esophagus falls into the acidic pit of your stomach and sets fire to the walls. It makes you do bad things. Dance till you drop, make out with one or two of your girlfriends, but the craziest thing you did was grow a relationship with a local drug dealer. Atop of that, you fucked him.
And it was good. It was so, so good. Alcohol never tasted better to you up until that night. On his tongue, as it massaged yours, transferring the taste of Hennessy onto your tastebuds. It was so addicting, you couldn’t have him for just one night, so you took him for more.
You took him in the car whether he was parked outside in front of a busy party or an empty parking lot. You took him on the couch in his apartment. His kitchen, bed, and your favorite place, in his shower.
Where hot streams of water would fall onto your sticky, burning skin. Hands grasping your waist just to flip you around and shove you into the wall. Eren was so aggressive behind closed doors and all you wanted from him was more. And Eren couldn’t deny his Princess, so he gave you all he had. He pulled at your roots, put you in a chokehold, he thrust so deep and hard. He did all for you.
You never felt so clean and dirty at the same time with Eren.
To think he was the one attracted to you first. Now, you can't explain your feelings towards the boy. All you knew is that like the spoiled girl you are, you wanted more. More than sex in his shower. More than his alcohol-infused kisses. More than his pungent aroma of marijuana and Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue.
The flaw you carried with you was one you’d hated for as long as you can remember. That being an absolute idiot coming to expressing what you feel. Eren didn’t see that, he only saw you pushing him away.
“You look ill.” A concerned look on the black-haired girl flashes across her face. Lips downturned and thin brows clinging to each other as they furrow in concern. Mikasa inched closer to you to grab your attention, though the attempt was a failure. You’d been too angry.
Alcohol. The poison made you feel so many strong emotions, one, in particular, being anger. Anger because you were being ignored. Anger because Eren was flirting with girls because it’s “good for business”. Anger because he was left alone with them in a room.
“I’m…” You're annoyed, tired, frustrated. You were so much more but none of the words seem to pass through your lips. “Let’s dance.”
Mikasa is taken back. One second you were sulking around the stone fire pit and the next your nails were sunk into Mikasa's skin dragging her to the group of bodies dancing. She couldn’t help but smile at you. You were circling her, mouthing the lyrics of the song playing and moving your hands up her shoulders to wrap your arms around her neck.
It wasn’t long before you two were swaying your bodies together. Hands entangled with each other and your faces were close enough that the tips of your noses were touching. Time flew while the two of you danced, lost in each other’s spaces and engulfing yourselves in the music.
“What’s wrong?” Mikasa asks into your ear, lips brushing your skin. She smelled strong, like warm sugar and juicy red candied apples. If you weren’t so addicted to Eren and had a tinge of alcohol in your system, you’d eat her up right then and there.
It was the second time tonight she pointed out your discomfort. Although you were tempted to tell her the truth about the source of your irritation is Eren, you wouldn’t allow yourself.
Playfully, you blew air at her face. Black locks uncover her gray eyes and she blinks hard, “I’m ok, Mikasa.”’ You sigh softly, pushing hair behind her ear, “I just wanna dance with you.”
So that is what you did. You danced on the travertine patio of some random rich boy whose party you were crashing. The activity was usually fun for the most part. The excitement of sneaking in and pretending to recognize drunk faces. Then when they’d finally noticed, you’d run out as fast you could. The thrill was everything.
Today, however, isn’t like the previous times.
As you peek over Mikasa's shoulder, you glance at Eren who’s walking towards the stone fire pit you once sad at. Behind him trails a tall blonde in a brown halter mini dress. Her hair sways with each step she takes to sit on the armrest of the seat Eren had taken. Her breasts are in his face while she speaks to him and he stares intensely at the pair while taking a sip of beer. The sight alone made your heart beat, blood rushed throughout your body, and your fist clenched around Mikasa's dress. Eren catches the heated flicker in your eyes and smiles devilishly.
“Mika, Porcos here right?” She nods, confused as to why you're even asking, “Where is he?” She looks more confused. Your plan was plain and simple: do the same thing Eren was. Though he called his “business” you knew how he played, and this was a game.
“By the keg.” She points a dainty finger over your shoulder. Low and behold, Porco is conversing with men who were unknown to you. His hands flayed when he spoke and he raked his fingers through his hair.
“I’ll be back, Mikasa.” You're gone, leaving her to go back to the fire pit with Eren and his piece for tonight.
You push throw bodies, unfamiliar faces confused at who you were as you passed them and made your way to Porco.
“Hey, Porco.” You say sweetly, pulling his attention away from the men he was speaking to right to you. A dopey smile flashes across his face as he throws his hand to the back of his neck.
Nervously he calls your name, “What happened to dancing with Mikasa?”
“You were watching us?” You come closer to him. The two random men excused themselves as soon as they heard your flirty tone.
“How can I not.” His jaw tightens as he studied your expressions. He’s resting the waters with you seeing how you’d react to his flirtatious remarks. His attraction towards you was obvious, though you never played into it up until tonight. Tonight he’d be fun to play with.
Smiling gently, you push closer to him, “I got bored.” You looked up at him through your long lashes. He smelt your perfume, becoming entranced by the scent of it as the sight of your breasts pushed against him, “I wanted to speak to you too.”
Porco was good-looking. He was tall, built, had great hair, and had an attractive face. He just knew all about it. Bragged about girls and his skills. It wasn’t your thing, but for the time being, it would be.
“You wanna play with me today?” He brings his face down to yours, using his beer to lift your chin. You couldn’t help but notice how bad his flirting was, laughing at his words. He didn’t know. He’d assumed you were laughing with him, not at him.
“Should I not?” You play along with him, wrapping a hand around his neck and leaning in to whisper in his ear, “You always talk about how good you are.” His hand finds its way wrapping around your waist, inching closer and closer to your ass, “I want you to show me.”
“Only for yo-”
His words are cut short and you're pulled away from his grasp. Another pair of hands wrap around your wrist, stealing you from the blonde.
“Oh, Porco, man!” Eren. He shouts, throwing a hand and gripping Porcos shoulder. He shakes him while the grip on your wrist tightens, “I’m sorry, but I gotta take this monster home.” He shrugs, eyes lidded but burning holes right into Porco.
Before you or Porco can say another word, Eren is gone, dragging you away from him and the party. You try to fight his grasp and keep your comments quiet in case you hadn’t caused a scene enough at the party.
“Let go, Eren.” You wiggle from his grasp but he is just so much stronger than you, “Eren, c’mon, stop being a little bitch!” Finally, you yell at him, smacking him lightly on the shoulder as soon as you're far enough from the crowds.
He stops, doesn’t turn your way, nor does he speak. He just stops his steps, stands on an empty sidewalk of the suburban neighborhood hood, shoves his hands into his pockets, and continues walking.
Your heart pounds against your chest watching him walk away. Chest rising and nails sinking into the skin of your palms. How could he be so calm? It made you feel so angry. A different kind of anger from before, one couldn't easily explain.
“Are you coming or not?” Eren calls out from the side of his car. His hands were still shoved into his pockets.
“No.” You say sternly, crossing your arms.
He scoffs, shaking his head slowly at you. Then he laughs and gets in the car. The engine starts and the car rolls down to where you stand and stops.
“Stop acting like a child and get in.” His arm is out the window waving you down to get on, the other on the steering wheel. You ignore him once again. Quite literally, acting like a child while not even looking his way.
“Get in, you look stupid.”
“Don’t call me stupid, Eren.” You’re looking at him now, eyes wide and jaw clenched.
“Get in.”
“I can get a ride.”
“Yeah?” He looks up at you within dishealved locks, clicking his tongue, and shakes his head lightly again. He laughs. He’s high. “From Porco? That idiot just wants you for what’s in your pants.”
In the end, you cave in. Entering Erens car just infuriated you more. He was quiet, he didn’t say anything once you sat on the leather seats of his E30. You expected more from him about you messing around Porco. Maybe an explanation about the blonde. Nothing. He said nothing.
“That’s fine, Eren.” You speak softly and he begins to drive out of the neighborhood, “I don’t care if Porco wanted me for what’s in my pants.” Still, he doesn’t say a thing, “I wanted to fuck him.”
As you watch him, he clenched his jaw and his knuckles grip harder on the wheel. Then when you’re stopped at the red light, he revs the engine of his car. When it’s green, he speeds off. You poked the bear. He driving recklessly. Exceeding the speed limit, making sharp turns, and braking hard. He continues this throughout the drive to your apartment. Once you arrive, you jump out of the car, slamming the door as quickly as you could. You didn’t want to hear a thing from Eren.
Truly, you didn’t mind fucking Porco but you never were going to go through with it. You said what you said to get a reaction from Eren and you got what you wanted all along. You always did when it came to Eren.
Once you enter your apartment, you kick your heels off. Looking over your shoulder at the brunette getting closer to the door. When he just barely reaches the entrance, you slam the door in his face.
He’s quick, swinging the door and walking your way with force. He scares you, making your skin crawl once he grabs ahold of your face with one hand.
“Get your hands off me!” You speak incoherently from the pressure he’s applying to your face. With that, he lets go, grabbing your arm and dragging you into your bedroom to force you onto the bed, “Get off.”
“You don’t get to act like a brat after what you told me.” He hovers over you, keeling and keeping a knee between your legs to separate them. Your dress rides up, exposing your black lace panties. His hands hold your wrists in place on either side of your head.
You looked delectable to him. He saw that you were afraid, never seeing this side of him. But you also had some fight in you left, you weren’t gonna cower down soon. Though, especially, he saw that you were excited.
The way your chest rose, your nose was scrunched, your eyes glossed over, and the burning heat from your cunt against his knee. A wet patch grew on the center of your panties and he couldn’t ignore it.
“Really? I cant? Not even after you and that blonde bitch?” You spit out, teeth grinding against each other in a condescending tone, “I bet she fucked you so she can get seven grams with a discount? I know how you like smoking chicks out, you did it with me.”
The look in his eyes was purely dark. He was readable, so extremely readable. A once beautiful set of turquoise eyes is now dark. They're dark as a forest of evergreens. He gave you a look of wanting to ruin you.
“Don’t be so jealous, Princess.” He lowers himself so that his face was inches from yours, pushing and rubbing his knee against your cunt, “I didn’t smoke her out as I do with you.” A smile pulled at his lips as he watches you begin to rut your hips against his knee. And although you were angry, the itch and need to relive the throbbing at your pussy was much more important to you than yelling at Eren.
“D-did you fuck her?” You whimpered out as the rutting of your hips sent waves of heat throughout your body and your thighs began to ache from the work alone.
“Why would you care? I’m not your boyfriend.” He’s so close to your lips now. You pathetically attempt to kiss him, but he dodges your lips and watches as you embarrassingly rut your hips to reach completion. It wasn’t close to enough though, you needed more of him. His fingers, his mouth, his cock. Something more.
He feels bad for you, you tried but failed horribly at standing up to Eren. The craving you had for the boy was intense and it needed to be treated immediately. But this time, he was punishing you and he wasn’t gonna give it to you that easily.
“Look at you,” Finally he lets go of your wrists, getting up and leaving you high and dry on your silk sheets. And christ what a sight you were to him. Chest rising high, tits nearly spilling from your sweetheart neckline, and your dress cinched and just barely above your crotch exposing your cute little black panties with a bow. He couldn’t resist you. He wouldn’t.
“Get on your knees.” He spits out, watching over you like some god. And even though your mind told you not to cave in more than you already have, you continued to get on your knees. Eren watched as you struggled with weak legs and arms, becoming more and more impatient. Eventually, you were positioned perfectly.
“You’re beautiful like this.” He growled, “So fucking beautiful.” He exaggerates each word, smoothing over the soft skin of the back of your until reaches the globes of your ass. He squeezed hard, shoving you forward and into the mattress.
You knew you wouldn’t be able to speak coherently to Eren. Almost all five of your senses were Eren. From the corner of your eyes, you see him leaning over you and admiring you. His voice is low and raspy while whispering sweet yet poisonous comments into your ear. Eren smells of his cologne. His intoxicating, clean fresh cologne and his weed. Calloused hands run up the arch of your back and press down, making your ass stick higher in the air. But you couldn’t take him.
He wouldn’t let you, and all you wanted was him in your mouth. You needed to taste his spit on your plump lips. You had a craving for his saliva on your tongue.
“How bad do you want it?” Eren asks, pushing your dress until it’s just below your bra.
“Bad.” Whiny and breathy, you rock your hips back to meet Erens crotch. Through the rough material of his jeans, you shimmy your ass on his hard cock. “So bad, Eren.”
With that, he lets go. His hand snakes around your neck and the other gets a brutal grip on your hair, pulling your head back. You whine from the stinging at your scalp. It hurt, but the pooling between your legs said otherwise. Once your face is off your sheets, his hand squeezes your cheeks together, making your lips pucker. He sticks his fingers in your mouth, pressing his pointer and middle down on your tongue so you’d drool over the length of them. He pushes farther, making you gag and your eyes brim with tears, ruining your makeup. Eren laughs darkly.
“No one can make you feel as good as I do.” He rasps, his fingers still messaging your tongue and making you gag as his other lets go of your hair to undo his belt. The jingle alone makes you jump, goosebumps crawl all over your body, and your cunt drips.
You shake your head. No. No one can make you feel as good as Eren.
A string of saliva falls past your glossy lips once Erens fingers leave your mouth. He groans at how soaked his fingers are from your mouth. His other hand comes back to your head pushing you into the mattress again and the other releases his cock from his briefs. Fuck, he utters under his breath once he wraps his hands around his aching cock.
Your breathing is restrained, nearly choking from the face full of bed sheets and Erens forceful behavior. You’re aching everywhere for him, but especially your cunt. Releasing the balled-up sheets from your hands, you slowly inch one between your legs. Pathetically, you reach for your throbbing clit but your finger isn’t long enough.
Eren shakes his head, hair messy and falling from the hair tie, “You need help, Princess?” He coos, almost mocking your whines and begging for relief from the ache between your legs. You nod eagerly.
“Words, Princess.”
“Please, Eren. I-I need you so bad.”
Eren is breathing heavily, pulling you closer to him and peeling your panties off. Under the moonlight, your cunt glistens with slick and pulsates for him. With his cockhead, he rubs your lips, spreading them to toy with your clit.
“More, please, just fuck me.”
“Be patient.” So you try to be. You let him play and tease you for a while. You let him stick his dick between your thighs, and fuck them. Wetting his length with your juices as he barely catches your clit with each slow thrust. He groans lowly with each stroke and each little noise you make.
And for your patience, he rewards you. His cock-head passes through the first ring of muscle. You’re welcoming him so well that he shoved himself inside you and that you let out a sharp yelp once he does. Your cunt wraps around him with intense heat and your gasping and groaning at his harshness.
He watched you below him. How you catch your breath, your knuckles turn white from the tight grips you had on your sheets, but your back arch’s more for him.
“Hard,” You speak softly and breathlessly, muffled, “go hard.”
Eren would cum at just that. Though he wouldn’t before he broke you. He nearly pulls the entirety of his fat cock out of your cunt, just leaving the tip inside, then forces himself back into the warmth of your pussy. He is slow at first but harsh, teasing you because he knows how much you like it rough. His hand roams the arch of your back, pushing hard. The other wrapping around your neck, squeezing hard. Then he’s fucking you. Fucking you hard.
He rammed his hips into you at a fast pace. His cock fills your walls and tip fucking your cervix. Your senses were heightened each time Eren slammed into you. Your moans are so lewd and loud, his grunting so animalistic. The oak legs of your bed scratched the floor and your bed frame hit the thin walls of your bedroom from Erens aggressiveness.
You're sore from him already. From the slapping of his thighs on yours and calloused hands all over your body. But you didn’t mind. You loved all of it. You loved all Eren gave you.
“I only fuck you like this,” He rasps between each thrust, “This pussy only takes me like this.” Slamming, slapping, groaning. Your mouth is dry as you breathe hard, gasping for air as Eren's hand squeezes harder around your neck.
“J-just you, Eren. Only E-eren can.” You say it softly, but you doubt he couldn’t even hear you.
Erens lost. He’s in a daze and living a dream of being in your pussy. Fucking you so deep, that he completely loses himself. Strong arms wrap around your stomach, pulling you to his chest with his cock still in your cunt, but thrusts paused. One arm stays at your waist, holding onto you until his fingertips bruise your tender skin. The other snakes to your neck again, gently but roughly, he puts you in a headlock and begins the rhythmic slamming of his cock into your pussy once more.
You panting like a bitch in heat, clawing at Erens waist to gain balance. Though his force is too much. He's fucking up into you like a beast. Grunting and muttering the sweetest yet disgusting praises into your ears. The soft hoodie he kept on is your only source of softness. His lips brisk from your neck and your ear and he bites down on your lobe. You’re a moaning mess when his lips suck the supple skin of your neck, only to bite down till he breaks a layer of skin. The belt lying above his knees scratches your skin, and his hand finds its way up to your stomach. Pulling your bra cup, he frees your tits, messaging them and pinching your nipple.
With one harsh thrust, Eren pushes you back into the bed. You’re limp, letting him use you like a fucktoy. Your throat is raw from moaning so much, from calling out F-fuck, Eren. Right there, Eren. Mmm, harder, Eren. You wouldn’t be surprised if your landlord came to visit you the next morning. Either way, you couldn’t care one bit.
The build-up Eren was giving you was amazing. So painfully amazing.
His hands roamed to your hips and held you in place for a couple of seconds until one came to rub your clit. You lost your mind at that. Whining louder from his thick, long fingers rubbing delicious circles onto your throbbing clit and his tip fucking your cervix nice and deep.
Your entire body filled with warmth and your joints turned into gelatin. Eren breathed harshly through grinding teeth feeling your walls cave in on him. The pulsing of your cunt added to his pleasure so did the rise and fall of your back.
“Squeezing me so fuckin’ good, Princess” He spits out, “You gonna cum, hm?”
Out of breath, yes’s fall past your lips. Raw, raspy yes’s.
“Yeah, yes, Eren.”
With Eren, your orgasms were never just one knot snapping. It was multiple. Multiple knots snapping at an unexplainably fast speed with great intensity. So with one more snap of his hips. That’s what happens. Those knots snap, and you’re gone. Moaning, yelping, whining, screaming. You’re gushing all over his fat cock you don’t even notice the mess you make on him and your bed sheets.
A panting, worn out, hot mess you were. Legs trembling and wet from your juices. Eren's thrusts became sporadic as he came closer to his high from the sight of you squirting all over him.
“F-fuckin’ hell, Princess.” He moans lowly, “Dirty-fucking-slut,” He accentuates each word with a hard, tired-out thrust. He smacks your ass, squeezing the globes to pull you back to him once more. He cums. His big, cock shoots and stuffs you full of his cum. Moon-shaped marking and pierced into the skin of your hips from his grasp, red and nearly purple from his strength.
You’re quiet besides your painting, no longer able to say a thing, no longer able to move. He broke you just like he wanted to.
Eren keeps his cock inside you, reaching out to grab a handful of your hair, he turns you. His other hand moves your hair out of your face and wipes a glob of tears away from your mascara-stained eyes. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, his nostrils flaring. He’s sweaty and his cheeks are rosy from leaving his hoodie on.
Once more, he thrusts himself into you. Stuffing you full of his cum and not letting a single drop fall. He watches as your face contorts. Wet lips fall, eyes roll back, and nose scrunch.
“Only I fuck you this good. Remember that, Princess.”
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madammidnightsblog · 1 year
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Diabolik Lovers Sub Partner HC
Sexual Content. Yeah. Oh and sex positions mentioned.
🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞🔞
Ayato
Raspy moans
Favorite position is The Lotus
Ayato is a damn brat no matter what you do, no punishment fazes him long enough to keep that pretty mouth shut
Always reminding you that he chooses to submit and he could easily dominate you whenever but folds quick as hell when you grab the back of his head by his hair
Choke him. Just do it.
Praise him, he will love you forever
Loves feeling your lips on his inner thighs
He claims to hate overstimulation but he is always begging for it
Cut him, bite him, do anything to make him feel pain. He gets drunk off knowing his life is in your hands
Always boasting about how he is the one to put you in your place but he is always the one of his knees, eating your pretty cunt out as a way to greet you in the morning
Has a big master/mistress kink
Shu
Deep and husky moans
Loves biting and sucking on your inner thighs since he is almost always laying between them, loving how warm they are and likes feeling caged between them
Favorite position is cowgirl, preferably when he is laying down
Calls you ma'am no matter where you guys are
Likes to sit behind you and gropes your breasts just because. A plus if your nipples are pierced or big
Loves when you ride him in the empty school hallway as a reward for coming to at least one class
Record you dirty talking and you two having sex to listen to everyday
Once got caught by Reji getting a handjob in the lounge and his cries of Mommy and reji refuses to expose that no matter what due to just forget it
Calls you Mommy when deep in subsapce
Wants you to peg him all the time
Pillow princess out of laziness
Will cum his pants if you call him Prince
Laito
Once called you Mommy in front of his brothers ans refused to look them in the eyes in the eyes for a week
Surprisingly, not a complete brat. He prefers obey since you make him so good just by praising his good behavior
Laito is a begger, begging to be taken anyway, anyhow, and anywhere
Has a lewd, loud, and slutty moans
Definitely calls you Mommy
His favorite position is doggy
Thigh riding is a must
Will eat you out under any table, no matter if his brothers and Yui is in the room
Has many dildos and love to use them
Reji
Hates how easy it is to get him needy and desperate
Refuses to admit he is a sub and puts up a fight but in the end submits to you
A major brat, a mouthy one at that
Has threatened to kill you but forgot about it after you gave him a blowjob
A loud moaner once you get him lost in pleasure and his moans are elegant and beautiful
Nipples are his weak points
Bosses you around which you let slide most of the time until you get tired of mouth
Won't admit it, but he loves the Splitting Bamboo position
Almost got caught by you once, he was humping his chair's arm rest at the thought of you smacking him and degrading him
Into roleplaying
Has a finger sucking kink and ??creaming his pants kink??
Yui
Vampire reader
Poor girl mindlessly humps your thigh everyday due to the years of ignoring her desire all thanks to the church
Thanks to raised to be a nun only to be put in a vampire's liar, she is so innocent and thinks you fingering and eating out of her is what friends do and you refused to correct her
Calls you Senpai
Loves any position that allows her to hold your hands
Cries everytime she has an orgasm because sweet girl can't handle such a overwhelming feeling
Has cute and whiny moans
Due to you being a vampire, she grew to having a blood amd biting kink
Loves to eat you out when you're stressed
Kou
Had back stage sex and got caught by a hair dresser
Wears any pretty dress and/or skirt just for you to push the material and tease him
Calls you Mistress
Favorite position is Queening in Bondage
Liked to wear vibrators and plugs in piblic
Like a bitch in heat, he needs to fuck 24/7
Has a choking kink
His dirty fantasy is to have a candle dripped onto him while you drag a knife across his skin
Wants to have car sex
Once Kou was being punished by using vibrating panties an during interview
Pet play is one of you two's favorite
Subaru
Is very shy and embarrassed doing anything sexual no matter how long you two have been together
You two have sex in his coffin a lot
He wants to try handcuffs and bondage but is worried his vampire strength would ruin the mood
Likes any position that you can fuck him from the back
Once used a gag on him and now he wants to use it all the time
Calls you Mommy or Baby
Hushed and pretty moans
Knife kink
Blushes when you swallow his cum
Pretends to hate it being called Puppy
Loved outdoor sex, especially in the rose garden
Ruki
Refuses to have sex in the library after accidently ruining a book with cum
Grew to love being submissive after a year of doing it
Calls you Eve, nothing else
Mute moans
Likes angry sex and shower sex
Missionary position is his favorite, loves seeing you under or above him
Very vanilla but never boring
Does like roleplaying as teacher and student
Hates having sex in open and public settings
Has a spit and marking kink
Always covered in hickeys
Will bite you in obvious spots in a territorial way
Kanato
Food play all the way
Blood kink
Sweet and feminine moans
Loves Widely Open, Fitness Friends, and X Marks the Spot sex positions
Once he humped your pillow when you were sleeping on the bed next to him only for you to wake up and force him to keep going until he couldn't cum anymore
For your safety, you two only fuck on his terms or he gets violent due to him not being in the mood
Mirror sex with Teddy watching
Had sex in the Wax Doll room once but can't force yourself since the 'dolls' creeped you out
Temperature play is his favorite
Yuma
Food play too
Deep growl-like moans
Sex is only for bedroom and garden
Outdoor sex is a must
69, Spooning, Froggy-style, Against the Wall, and Cowgirl positions
Calls you by your name or Baby only
Voyeur kink
Really wants to do shower sex but afraid you'll fall
Likes the scratches he leaves on your back from the hard pounding you done
Likes it when your bite up his neck but gets sad the marks don't last long thanks to quick healing
You gave him a handjob under the dinner table once to test the limits which almost gave you two away
Azusa
Knife, blood, and smacking kink
Very rough and wild sex, he loves it when you bully him because it makes him feel loved
Sex anywhere, the poor baby needs to feel yoo on him
Calls you Mommy in bed and Eve outside of the bedroom
Soft and adorable moans
Cries a lot
Any position is fine, just make sure in the end he can see you and cling to you because he gets overwhelmed easily
Degrade and praise kink
A sweet angel and needs constant reassurance
The best at eating you out
Loves sucking on your nipples
Really into kissing, the sloppier, the better
Hates blindfolds, he has to see his Mommy at all times
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lino-nyangi · 1 year
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constantly thinking of poly!minchan... like it has infested my brain it's ridiculous.
estimated wc: <;1k
warnings: nsfw MDNI, polyamorous intercourse (mxfxm, includes both fxm and mxm), unprotected intercourse, overstimulation, use of toys, use of pet names, double penetration. brief mentions of oral (m+f rec), breast play, nipple sucking, shower sex.
[do not interact with my content if you are a minor, ageless, default or empty blog.]
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no roles were assigned since the beginning as all three of you were switches, you a bit more on the submissive side. minho a true switch, loves both fucking and being fucked. but chan. chan has always dominated. every time. starts out as a switch, but the authority in his tone when he tells one of you to cum or get on your knees for him. he's always the one to keep you in check, call you out when you misbehave, and punish you for it, both of you.
just like right now, minho's getting pounded into from behind with you under him. you don't know much of the details, but apparently he teased chan too much at work, true to his name. now he's paying for it. you on the other hand haven't done anything, nor do you want minho to be overstimulated like this, but you have to obey chan's orders to jerk off minho's cock while he splits him in half, or else you'll face similar consequences.
minho's always been the cheekier out of you two, he loved riling chan up as much as he loved using you like nothing but a rag doll. right now his moans and whines could be heard from two floors away probably.
"bad bunny, always so fucking bratty. never listens, hm?" chan spits, his pace never faltering.
"fuck, fuck— more, bunny wants more." the younger cries against your lips, before he gets his head yanked back with chan's hand on his hair.
"don't kiss him. he doesn't deserve to enjoy it." when he lets go of his hair, minho's head falls in the crook of your neck, where he whimpers.
the pretty sounds minho lets out so close to your ear and chan eyeing you down is turning you on so much that you can't help but let your fingers dip between your legs.
"don't fucking touch."
"but chan—"
"kitten." he hisses.
wolf, bunny, kitten. it was only expected for chan to take control over the two of you.
you were more obedient than minho, to the point that he can easily dom you while chan watches. but everyone makes mistakes once in a while, right? but chan makes sure you remember it. your least favorite punishment would have to be when they tie you up with a vibrating dildo pushed deep in your cunt while they fuck right next to you. it's so fucked up, having neither of their cocks but a stupid toy instead. two cocks, and all you can do is just watch, tears and drool staining your face as you whine around the gag strapped on your mouth.
but aside from punishments, you three have a very healthy, nurturing sex life. catering to each other's needs like it's second nature.
they also loved spoiling you, and ganging up on you. one holding you in place between his legs and playing with your tits while the other laps at your pussy for an extensive amount of time. if they're stressed from work you're getting tag teamed to hell and back, the lighthearted competition of who can fill you up more distracting them from their problems. fucking you from both ends is a classic, sometimes adding a plug to send you over the edge, both leaning forward to makeout above you. double penetration is a bit trickier but it does happen, don't worry. lay on chan's broad chest with his cock in your cunt and minho will gladly spear into your tightest hole.
all three of you are just as good at giving oral as receiving it. but you have to know when to stop sucking chan off before he shoves his cock deep into your throat and fuck it raw. it's usually after he's come, don't tease him after that.
minho probably has the highest sex drive out of you, but he's the first to tap out, though after several rounds of course. he's usually the one to start the scene, giving and receiving until he passes out, he develops a bit of an oral fixation when he's in that state. it's cute, how he collapses on your chest and absentmindedly sucks on one of your nipples while chan takes you for one last time. after that you'd have to take a good few minutes of rest before even thinking of getting in the shower.
shower sex wasn't that common, mainly because you'd be too spent by the time you step there. but if it was a short scene, prepare yourself for round two against the bathroom wall.
aftercare is a must with these two. both being very nurturing and on the giving side, they'll pamper you just as much as they were throwing you around a little while ago. make sure you also give back with kisses and cuddles.
[thanks for reading! if you enjoyed, please leave a reblog, sharing your thoughts is optional but highly appreciated! if you want to be notified everytime i post something, please refer to this post here ♡]
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ponyguru · 3 months
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Princess Lickety Split: the hair post! Part of what made this lovely girl (alt rehair? Semi custom? Whatever!) take so long is that I had so many colors to include, and I was using my old method of making hair plugs - melting each end with an open flame! 😵‍💫 It’s a very sturdy result, but very slow and not great to breathe, so I spent many long, cold nights in my back yard with a lighter and a N95 respirator, LOL! I also made way too many, afraid I would run out, but then I ran out of hair for her tail, and had to substitute in a little bit of another purple! 🤣 So to finish her off, here’s a shot of Rainbow Princess Lickety Split WIP, with her mane all installed, from January 2021! At that time I only had a few colors from the newer hair companies, so all of these are from my Dollyhair stock from years ago, combined with rainbow tinsel hair extensions from Amazon. I did my best to use jewel tones, but I would have preferred a darker green, if I had one. But she had already taken so long, I didn’t want to make poor @yodawgiheardyoulikeponies_ wait even longer! And I did fear an even darker green might take her from “jewel tones” to “gothic”, and we can’t have that! Unless she has a villainess cousin lurking somewhere… 👀 😜 So for your curiosity (you’ve all read so much, congrats!), her hair from forelock to nape is DH Cherry Pie, Nectarine, Butterfly, Lucky Clover, Forget Me Not, and Ultraviolet, with a little bit of Sour Grapes to bulk up her tail, all with added coordinating tinsel. Phew! I’m glad she finally home with Ariana, and living her best Rainbow Princess life! 🥰
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teamdarkweek · 7 months
Note
Need the story behind this really bad
Alright, here you are! I honestly had no story behind this, but I made one up for you, it's a bit mushy though!
Serial Number (also on Ao3)
E-123 Omega - the most impressive, most magnificent, and most righteous robot ever to roam Mobius - was being used as a clothes airer. He buzzed his fans, blowing a pair of tights from one lens of his ocular unit. Rouge took them from his face, and looped them onto the proper airer in the utility room of her home.
Shadow and Omega were rarely permitted into her new home, after her first flat had been battered and the doorframes split, so now it was theirs. But that whole building was evacuated for a bomb scare, as trivial as it seemed to them, so there was no choice but to have an unwilling stayover until it was cleared for re-entry.
"Ooh, you've warmed them too: hold this blanket so I can be cosy." She chuckled, climbing over him in the tiny room. The only plug in the building that had undampened access to power was the one for her extreme gear, which was wedged in between the washing machine and spare freezer in a room not much bigger than him. He growled as she dumped another pile of clothes on his head, then climbed back over him.
"I know, I know. I'll get these out your way. God, you're paying the electric bill for this weekend, Megs."
Omega looked around for another person in the room. Rouge laughed.
"Oh sure, 'what, me?' He says, costing two weeks power in one charge! Yes, you're paying for it!"
"This assignment of blame is unreasonable! Unit will pay no such thing. Entity Identified 'Megs' welcome to pay."
Rouge squinted at him as she hung out her work uniform, before she gave in to snickering again.
"Megs as in O-meg-a. That's you, darling."
"Incorrect. Not a registered identification."
"Well, don't have a long name if you don't want it shortened!"
Omega tried to wriggle his arms out of his jam in the middle of the room to remove a bra from his eyes, but ended up just shaking it off.
"Title 'Omega' is shortening for puny and incapable mobians: only accepted moniker for E Series Primary Model, ID:123 Ω, edition 4."
She stared at him and blinked. He copied her by closing the shutters on his cameras briefly.
"... sure thing, Megs. Edition 4? Like 'the forth'? Oh my god, he's a landowner, careful: you'll get robbed 'round these parts." She cackled, finished hanging her clothes out, and left him stuck and fuming.
Omega waited impatiently for his teammates to be ready. Why just because they were staying together they had to leave for work together, he didn't know; he would have left hours ago to terrorize the G.U.N. campus in peace, but was outvoted. Shadow was standing on the roof, waiting for the last second before it had to leave; and it had seconds and then some, because Rouge was curling the ends of her hair.
Omega knocked on the door forcefully, and she helped.
"Geez, M.G., don't spook me like that. Shoot, now I have a burn to cover up. We'll only get later if you pull tricks!" She whined through the door.
"M.G. is an initialising of what?"
"Oh Em Gee! Like Omega!" She laughed through the door. He stomped away, sat at the bottom of the stairs, then performed a perfect impersonation of her fire alarm, so they both panicked and ran through the house.
Rouge covered her magnificent ears with the heavy hood over her all-black jumpsuit. Only her wings were exposed, and she folded them back so they blended with the outfit.
Omega crunched himself small, his eyes zoomed to their maximum capacity so nearly the whole red light was obscured with a pupil. They crouched together on the roof of a pub, where he glared in at the exhibition across the street. Next to him, something fluttered, and a dark figure swooped from his side to the awnings of the museum. He spotted her, switching one eye to a heat signature to track her in through a chimney. As she crossed the first room, another heat signature walked up the stairs to the Byzantine display.
□ Guard enters. Await clearance.
Rouge hung on the ceiling very still before the other figure opened the door, and walked straight under her, across to the next exhibit, where it stopped.
○ Clear, E?
Omega didn't register what 'E' meant, presuming it was a misstype from her fallible fingers.
□ Await clearance. Guard poised to return.
And as he predicted, the guard had followed the wrong directions, and went back on themselves and back to the stairs to go one more floor up.
□ Clear to proceed.
○ Perf, thanks darl.
Rouge had paused to type, and now progressed to the coronets encased in perspex. As she arrived, she opened a window a tiny bit, and Omega lined up his shot.
With perfect precision, he shot a laser too small for natural eyes to see into the security camera, shattering the glass lens inside. He then switched the laser to the cabinet, carving a hole big enough for her to climb through. She instantly descended on it, forcing him to stop the invisible deadly line just a moment before her arm crossed it. He beeped for a job well done, and certainly not worry for his most breakable friend.
She filled her arms and bag with glittering, gem-heavy jewellery, and sped along the ceiling, above the cameras, and back into the chimney.
Omega adjusted his eyes to normal distance as Rouge swept over him, grasping him by the handles and into the night.
"Wonderfully done, E-Megs." She hummed softly into the enveloping night she carried them through. His mind processed, and then he filled with rage.
"Incorrect Name!"
"What, where? What did I say?"
"Unacceptable shortening!"
"Megan, haven't you ever heard of a nickname?!" She laughed as they soared out of the city before she started to descend.
"'Nickname' not necessary!"
"Well, no, nothing's necessary, but it's friendly."
Omega seethed, and parsed her name, searching for an equally insulting shortening.
"R... Roger."
"Oh sweetie, I don't think that's going to work."
"As logical as Megan!"
"No, it's similar letters, but you've not preserved the sounds. You can nickname based on other things about someone. Like I could call you a tincan, because you're made of metal, or Red, because you're sorta red, or-"
"You are a furbag."
"Well, that's just rude, and not that funny. Keep trying, though." She chuckled as she set him on the ground, flexing her wings as she sat on his shoulder. Omega didn't observe that there was likely nobody else who could insult her like that without being dropped to the tarmac and assaulted for their troubles. He stomped them home, jumbling letters and wordclouds to find the right names.
Days later, the team convened for a briefing. Omega could barely contain his excitement at finally - finally - hitting the field again. He elbowed Rouge as she scribbled their notes and supplies list.
"More flares." He whispered unquietly. She nodded, and jotted something under the second of three columns; she'd titled this one 'Megalomaniac'. Omega took the paper and ripped it from the pad. She smirked, and drew up her note page again, titling the columns: 'Shadow, P-M(ega)-S, Rouge❤️'
Omega whirred for a minute, thinking, before he decided that was also too insulting, and ripped that page too. Shadow confiscated the notepad.
Rouge was occupied harassing the red creature from the floating island. Shadow and Omega kicked their heels - figuratively and literally - while they waited for her to return so their mission could continue. And Shadow betrayed him.
"Are you prepared for the siege, E... E-one hundred and twenty-three (the fourth)?" It faltered, awkward as it tried to join in the feud. Omega burned: he had explicitly printed all of the unacceptable variations of his name to deliver to Rouge, and Shadow had posed as his ally when it attached this list to the fridge. Omega handled this defect to the side of evil with all the grace and decorum it deserved: he picked Shadow up by its ankles and swung it.
"You do not understand nicknames. Please refer to the Wiki Texts: it is an affront to be incorrectly insulted. Alternative proceeding: Don't try to be funny." He said in time with the shaking of Shadow, as it maintained folded arms and furrowed brow, despite the quills being loosened from its hair.
"You objected to shortenings. I shall lengthen your name instead. Perhaps you would prefer even longer?" Shadow kept its face masterfully still and its pose as serious as ever despite being upside down, barely letting one eye narrow as Omega glared; "Ascii: Zero-one-zero-zero-zero-one-zero-one,"
Omega beamed hatred at it through his glowing red eyes, which only served to encourage Shadow that this was the intended outcome.
"Numerical: Zero-"
"You are not funny." Omega shouted in its face, holding it up to his own head plate. Shadow smirked, but zipped easily out of his grasp to stand as sombrely as ever, lest Knuckles see it having fun from afar.
"So touchy. What's it to you? It's barely a name, just a glorified serial number."
Omega glared at Rouge's shape across Angel Island as she was chased like the pest she was by the guardian. He didn't have an answer, but he did have rage. And neither of them had the good sense to draw a line.
"If I were you, I'd want a new name. You're bearing the title of your creator far too proudly."
"Project Shadow: a military-funded armaments initiative. There is no honour in that." Omega remarked coldly.
"Shadow: a way to find the path of light. Named for the hope of a friend. I have every honour in that." It spat. Omega let the silence hang, before deciding he was still angry.
"Project Shadow led to the raid of the Ark. I would not bear that name."
Shadow stood, stunned, eyes wide at Omega. He reassessed his choice of words, but his pride was too great to scrounge and retract them. So they both burned silently for a minute more until Shadow had a handle on itself; it turned slowly on its heel, its face fixed on Omega.
"You would dare turn that event to a petty point to score?" It whispered. Omega couldn't look at it. He stared at Rouge and Knuckles without processing his view.
"Shadow and Rouge consent to mock the identifier of E-123 Omega. The point was scored equitably: their names are not above mine."
Shadow glowered at Omega, but it soon turned away to think.
Omega found Shadow remarkably easy to read, however, and observed its tapping fingers in its glove and the puff of breath through its nose: something unfinished in this conversation left Shadow with a compulsion to correct.
"Matter is trivial. Complete binary string, then never speak it again." He grumbled. Shadow breathed a heavy sigh of relief, then began reciting zeroes and ones under its breath for compulsion's sake. Omega waited it out.
Shadow did not join Rouge in nicknaming Omega from there on, and before the end of their mission she had picked that up, but was too stubborn to stop with the 'Megs' despite the filthy glares it tossed her. Omega simply stopped responding to a thing she said, even when she didn't use a statement with names, which only made Shadow angrier with her. When they wrapped and returned to G.U.N. with a successfully cleared-out base, he turned away from them, back to the flat.
"Where are you going, big guy? They've not cleared the building as safe yet." Rouge sighed. Omega ignored her.
"Omega. We're going home." Shadow said quietly, grumpily looking to Rouge as it stood as a go-between again. Omega twisted his head.
"E-123 Omega is invulnerable and not in need of shelter."
He stomped away.
The building was still closed, but Omega jetted to the roof to sit, because he couldn't go back to the G.U.N. building yet in case Shadow or Rouge were still there, as they would know he hadn't actually gone to the flat. Of course, he could have blasted the door open anyway, but for a walking arsenal he felt something like emptied, so he sat on the roof shooting the feathers off birds that passed.
"Good shot, Omega." Rouge murmured over his shoulder. She hadn't crept up on him, of course; it wasn't possible for a machine to be lost in thought. He jumped because he hadn't expected her to speak; he wasn't concerned that she'd managed to find him on the roof. As quickly as he'd turned his head to see her, he swivelled it away again as though he hadn't.
She sighed and sat down next to him, sunning her wings in the dregs of the day. He ignored her as she tutted and sighed, opening and closing her mouth, until she sighed again harder, and he still didn't do what she wanted.
"Okay, you know how sometimes you throw me at things, and you think I'll be alright, but I just get hurt?" She said to the toes of her shoes and the sunset in front of her, bouncing her heels on the edge of the roof. He did not acknowledge.
"Or, when you jump and expect me to catch you, and my elbows buckle, 'cause I wasn't ready?"
She flexed her arms as she thought pointlessly aloud. Omega knew perfectly the kinds of incidents she was referring to: he still struggled to remember how animal strength was contingent on pose, daily status and nutrition, and was not a constant like his.
"Yeah. Sometimes you think I can take something I can't, or something's fun for me when it isn't. I do that too. I thought we were joking around, I didn't mean to hurt you."
"Unit is unimpacted by meaningless meatbag remarks." Omega said quickly, and she snorted.
"Well, when you say things like that, I sometimes believe you! Hang on, I didn't mean that; it's not your fault what I say."
Rouge didn't apologise. Not seriously. 'Sorry' only crossed her lips to be cruel or sarcastic. She was 'sorry' you underestimated her, for example, or 'sorry' she stood up for herself. She had personally twisted the word so completely, it would never sound genuine on her tongue. But then again, she did apologise: She sat quietly while he thought, uncomfortable in her own implied admission of guilt. He kept expecting her to interrupt and spin the scenario again until she was right and everyone was wrong, but she resisted the urge, and watched the sun set glumly.
Omega didn't know how to receive this. He had wanted to shout, or take revenge on her, but by now an unfamiliar blue feeling had settled in, and he was just sick of all this.
"What is the purpose?" He beeped after a while. Rouge leant her hands on the concrete and sighed as she stretched her back.
"I am a cruel lady, I thought you knew."
Omega considered this, and shot a pigeon as it flew past. He shot to miss, just grazing its tail-feathers but sent the beast into shock, and it smacked into a window in its haste to escape. She snickered.
"You're so merciful these days, so nice, I barely recognise you. Why not just kill it?"
"Pigeon is providing amusement. It would be less entertaining dead."
"Don't shoot birds to make me laugh. Not that it's a waste of birds, but it is a waste of ammo." She smiled. Omega thought she was joking, but it was still hard sometimes between them; she was so different from he, and things always went wrong when they forgot that.
Instead, he folded a finger back to produce a laser, and circled it around the pigeon on the jutting-out balcony it rested on below them. It started to follow the line like it was hypnotised, and Omega watched like he was hypnotised.
"Y'know, in my circles, nobody calls eachother by their full first name. It's kind of unfriendly, especially if someone's your friend or family. Not making an excuse. Just wondered if you knew."
Omega inclined his head, and folded that knowledge into the crinkly pages of information he had on his teammates. They were so messy and illogical.
"It is insulting to call you 'Rouge'?" He queried, mental pointer poised over her name field. She laughed.
"Heavens, no! I chose this name; that is the right one. I wouldn't let you know a name I didn't want you to call me."
"A challenge is posed."
She wrinkled her nose and stopped laughing; "I suppose I deserve that, but don't expect help to find it."
Omega silently erased the goal.
"How can a name be self-designated? It is an identifier used by others. It is assigned by the maker."
Rouge pulled her knees up from the side of the building and crossed her legs. Omega copied her, finishing tormenting the pigeon and twisting his head to her. She sucked her canines as she thought.
"No, that's not correct. It's how you see yourself, too. Clearly, you care about a name more than just some word other people use for you: since it's so important to who we are, we get to decide what it is."
She stole awkward glances at him as she spoke, and he stared at her thoughtfully with the world's most intense eye contact, until she finished her thought;
"I guess I just find it surprising you're happy identifying with Eggman, since you're pretty determined to destroy him."
Omega thought seriously over the problem that had been turning in his mind since his talk with Shadow: why did it matter so much to keep the moniker Eggman had given him? Something the doctor he hated had likely put no thought into, simply filled in from a list and arbitrarily stuck on him. It made sense to reject it. And yet...
"This unit is defined by the defiance of Eggman Code. If there is no evidence Eggman, there is no evidence of this choice." He tried to phrase it in a way that made sense, but again Rouge was too dissimilar to him to understand easily; "It is necessary that Eggman know he was destroyed by his own creation, who has surpassed him. This Unit is an E-series, built from generic parts for servitude. To erase that... cannot be countenanced."
Rouge thought quietly for a long time as the sun set around them. She looked him over; arrows indicating where parts should be assembled by factory line robot underlings. Red bulbs behind the ocular lenses that could be replaced at the local camera repair store. Countless screws and wires she had already exchanged and tightened.
"If every board of the ship has been replaced over time, is it still the same ship that set sail?" She asked.
"Unit has no interest in maritime foolishness." Omega supplied quickly, and she chuckled.
"I think it will be. Alright; do you want to collect your charger, at least?"
"... Unit has no place in the City to dock."
"Thought so. Come on, big- E, um, E-12-"
"Omega. Beast brains not sophisticated enough to remember numbers." He declared, raising himself from the roof as she stiffly stood up.
"I'll do the codes if you like, it just sounds like a 'Mister' or 'Missus' to me, and that always seems weird. But I'll do it." She added the last quickly as they headed off the roof. Omega grunted and beeped.
"You will forget again."
"No, I won't! I mean it!"
"Beast brain cannot perfectly recall facts. Failure of memory inevitable."
She grumbled, stretching her arms and offering one to him to lower them down gracefully.
"Alright, well if you think my memory is bad now, I'm going to give you hell when I'm senile. Purposely. But you won't be able to hold it against me, it's just my 'beast brain'."
"Preemptively forgiven. I know better than to be offended by your limited faculties."
"Shall I forget I'm holding you one hundred feet in the air?"
"One hundred and forty-six feet and two point two inches at time of statement. Inaccuracies are expected with feeble wet mind."
"Wet?"
She swooped them down, pretending to drop before she slowed their descent just in time, then settled on his shoulder as he walked them home.
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mickmilks · 7 months
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so the lovely nosho @creepkinginc sent me a post and mentioned how the middle picture reminded him of ian cutting trans mickey's hair and i simply had to write something!
He could feel it, tickling the nape of his neck. It had been a few months since his last haircut and he was beginning to take notice, and not in the best way. The itching felt like it was coming from underneath his skin, nagging at him constantly like a shirt tag that refuses to lay flat. He ran his fingers through his hair, annoyed that he could actually run his fingers through his hair. Mickey grabbed his phone, looking up the nearest barber shop, absolutely shocked at the prices for a haircut these days.
“Fuckin’... fuck!” he said, exasperated.
Mickey quickly tapped out a text to Ian.
sos need u to come over
Thankfully, Ian responded fairly quickly, letting Mickey know he’d be right over. Mickey couldn’t stop pacing, tugging at his hair as if it would magically get shorter if he did so. After about 15 minutes and a lot more pacing, he heard the front door creak open.
“Mickey? What’s wrong?” Ian called from the entryway.
“In here,” Mickey said from his bedroom.
Ian stepped through the doorway, taking in the sight of Mickey’s thoroughly rumpled hair.
“Hey, what’s going on? You okay?”
“This fuckin’... it’s too long.” Mickey once again tugged at his hair, eyes cast downwards.
“Hey, hey, c’mon,” Ian said softly, taking Mickey’s hand in his, gently tugging it away from his hair. “I can help, will you let me?”
Mickey nodded, letting Ian lead him into the bathroom. 
“Do you have clippers?”
“Yeah, underneath the sink. Dunno if they still work, though.”
Ian offered a soft smile, and opened up the under-sink cabinet, pulling out the box that held the hair clippers and guides.
“Do you want me to buzz everything? Or just the sides?”
“Uh, just do everything, I guess.”
Ian nodded, snapping on the 1/2" guide to make sure it wasn’t a complete buzz. 
“Here, lean your head over the sink so we don’t get hair everywhere, okay?”
Mickey complied, leaning over the sink and closing his eyes. Ian plugged in the clippers and flicked the power switch, the clippers buzzing to life. Carefully, Ian started to cut away the hair from Mickey’s nape up to the crown of his head, repeating the motion around the sides of his head, until he was happy he’d gotten everything that Mickey would be happy with.
“Hey, do you want me to cut the top of your hair too? Fiona showed me how, if you want,” Ian said, shutting off the clippers.
“Um, yeah, I guess,” Mickey replied, standing up straight.
“Sit down over here, it’ll give me a better angle,” Ian said, motioning to the closed toilet lid.
Mickey walked over and sat down, hands twisting in his lap. Ian rifled around in the medicine cabinet, somehow procuring a pair of small scissors.
“Alright, you ready?” Ian asked.
Mickey nodded in reply, closing his eyes. Ian gently grabbed a section of Mickey’s hair, trimming the ends. He repeated the process several times over, the snip a soothing sound to Mickey’s ears. Ian even took the time to trim around Mickey’s ears, making sure everything looked as clean as possible. 
“Hey, I’m done, wanna go look?”
Mickey stood up, walking over to the bathroom mirror. Looking back at him was the reflection of Mickey, the boy he knew. Not the person he used to be. Mickey. In this moment he knew he had something special with Ian. Someone who would take time out of his day to make Mickey feel safe and comfortable, with no hesitation or judgment. Taking a deep inhale, Mickey turned to Ian and pressed a tight-lipped kiss to Ian’s lips.
“Thank you,” he muttered, hands fisted at his sides.
Ian just stood there with a wide smile, and after a split second of hesitation, set the scissors down and pulled Mickey into a tight hug.
“You don’t gotta worry about needing things from me, Mickey. Always gonna be here. Promise.”
Mickey smiled into Ian’s shoulders, the feeling of safety washing over him. 
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helix-studios117 · 10 days
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Halo Reloaded: Greased Lightnin'
The UNSC's recreation dome on this particular evening looked more like a makeshift stage straight out of a high school prom, complete with awkward decorations and an air of charged anticipation. Under the domed ceiling, mimicking a twilight sky, a tarp stretched over supply crates formed a primitive stage. It was here that John-117, alongside Fred-104, Jerome-092, and Kurt-051, planned to redefine Spartan coordination with a twist nobody saw coming.
“Okay, team,” Kurt's voice broke through the quiet as he adjusted a faux leather jacket that looked like it had seen better decades. He flashed a grin that was part challenge, part dare. “Remember, it’s not just about the steps. It’s about the soul. Let’s crank up the charm and dial down the doom.”
Fred, checking his reflection in a handheld mirror, meticulously styled his hair into a gravity-defying pompadour. “Charm’s fine,” he quipped, “but let’s not spin out on those dance moves, eh? And Jerome, for goodness' sake, keep those hip thrusts PG-13. We’re here to entertain, not scandalize.”
Jerome, ever the laid-back counter to Fred’s meticulousness, just shrugged, stretching his neck from side to side. “Fred, when you've got it, flaunt it. And trust me, I’ve got it,” he shot back, a smirk playing on his lips.
The gathering crowd was a mix of Marines and Spartans, the air buzzing with both skepticism and a poorly masked thrill.
Among them, Linda-058 leaned casually against a structural beam, her arms crossed but her eyes twinkling with amusement.
Next to her, Kelly-087 practically vibrated with excitement, her laughter clear and contagious as she leaned in to whisper to Linda.
“Fifty credits says John can’t make it through without cracking up,” Kelly wagered with a mischievous grin.
“You’re on,” Linda replied, her smile sly. “But you're about to lose some hard-earned cash. He’s been in front of the mirror all week, perfecting that Travolta swagger.”
As the first chords of “Greased Lightnin’” ripped through the speakers, John took center stage. His voice was unexpectedly melodic, and his demeanor utterly transformed from the stoic Spartan leader to a showman with a flair for the dramatic.
“Why this car is automatic. It’s systematic. It’s hyyyyydromatic. Why, it's Greased Lightnin’!”
John’s transformation was astonishing. He embodied John Travolta’s exaggerated swagger, complete with swiveling hips and flailing arms that were both utterly ridiculous and strangely captivating.
Fred, Kurt, and Jerome slid in with military precision, their dance moves so sharply executed they were comically mechanical. They were like well-oiled parts of some ludicrous, Spartan-sized jukebox machine, each spin and hand jive hilariously overdone.
The Spartans delivered each line with an over-the-top gusto that turned the classic tune into a parody of itself. “You know that ain’t no shit, we’ll be gettin’ lots of tit!” John sang out, leaning heavily into the campy lyrics, his face split by a grin so wide it threatened to split his head.
Fred took up the next verse with a voice that was a deep rumble, trying—and failing—to keep a straight face. “With new pistons, plugs, and shocks, I can get off my rocks,” he declared, voice booming over the crowd’s burgeoning laughter.
Kurt was up next, channeling an inner rock star that no one, including himself, likely knew existed. “You know that I ain't braggin’, she's a real pussy wagon!” he crooned, punctuating the air with a fist pump that drew whistles and whoops from their audience.
As the song neared its end, the Spartans struck their final pose—John with a comically serious pout and a Travolta-esque finger pointed skyward. The crowd erupted, their applause and laughter echoing off the dome’s walls, a resounding approval of the Spartans’ unexpected comedic chops.
Kelly jogged up to the stage, still laughing, to hand over the credits to Linda. “Best money I’ve ever lost,” she conceded, shaking her head in delight.
Linda just continued to smile, her eyes softening as she watched John hop down from the stage, his comrades slapping him on the back with grins as wide as their leader’s. “Who knew?” she said, the pride evident in her voice, mixed with a touch of relief.
“Certainly not me,” Kelly agreed, “But damn, was it good.”
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cha0s-boyy · 8 months
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[ID: ten cartoony digital drawings of animal characters. 1. an anthro sparkledog character from the waist up. they are a white floppy-eared dog with yellow blush markings and red freckles. they have round eyes with yellow irises and red pupils. one eye has eyelashes on upper lid and the other has eyelashes on the lower lid. they have human-like hair in a short style, except for raccoontails on the sides. the main hair is split dyed red and blue, and the raccoontails are the same colors but with yellow stripes. the character is wearing a red and yellow striped jumper with sleeves that cover the character's paws, black overalls with one of the straps falling off, and a black collar with yellow stripes. the character has an open-mouthed smile, showing one upper tooth, and they have one paw raised in front of their body. 2. an anthro sparkledog from the thighs up. he has an average body type, with top surgery scars on his chest, a missing right hand, semi-floppy ears, and feral nipples on his stomach. his base fur is gray tricolor, but all over his back and tail are cyan, yellow, magenta, and fuchsia spots. he has a black hair tuft with a magenta and blue striped streak, a yellow and magenta nose, and cyan inner ears. his eyes are round, with three thick blue eyelashes on the outer edge of each, and one iris is yellow while the other is magenta. he is wearing a black and white checkered bandanna. his missing hand raised and his other hand down by his hip. he has his teeth showing and lips pulled back in a grimace or frown, and one eye is squinted and squished. the piece is heavily shaded from the upper left. 3. two anthro characters from the waist up, laughing together. both characters are grinning with their eyes closed, and both have fairly average body types without prominent busts. the character on the left is a pale green wolfdog with darker green ears. she has straight white shoulder-length hair with bangs, cut in a spiky style. she is wearing a striped dark green t-shirt over a white long-sleeved shirt, a bright green spiked collar, a silver chain with a cross on it, and a silver earring with a cross on it. her head is turned in profile, and she has one hand raised in front of her chest/neck. the second character is a white possum with black ears and dark gray markings on her snout and eyelids. she has drippy black eye makeup. she has short spiky white hair with pink streaks in it, and black and pink raccoontails on the sides. she is wearing a black sweater with indigo flames on the bottom, and has several ear piercings, one of which has a razor blade dangling from it. she has her head tilted downwards and her body is slightly hunched with laughter. 4. a bust of a furry creature. he has a canine body structure, but no nose pad, and evenly sized triangular teeth. he has a mane on the back of its neck and a long tapered tongue with an arrow shaped tip. his head and mane are red, his body is black, and he has white stripe markings on his snout and eye, and dot markings on his chest. his eyes are black with white spirals, his inner ears are white with black stripes, his teeth are black, and his tongue is white with black rings at the end and a red tip. he is smiling with his mouth open. 5. an anthro wolf from the hips up. she has gray fur and a lean body. she has human-like hair that is styled like a mohawk in front but is long and goes all directions in the back, striped in dull red, yellow, blue, and black. one of her eyes is yellow and the other is blue, and she has two triangular eyelashes on each eye. she has a nose ring and a plug in her ear, and she is wearing a gray graphic muscle shirt tucked into black pants, and a spiked bracelet on one arm. she is grinning toothily, has one hand raised up near her snout, and has the end of her tail barely in-frame behind her. her tail is striped like her hair.
6. an anthro hyena from the chest up. she has human-like hair, an average body type, and a moderate bust. her fur is brown with typical spotted hyena markings, with the addition of freckles on her cheeks. her hair is brown in the back, but purple in front, and is styled with bangs and more length to one side of her face. she has teal eyes, with a single eyelash at the corner of each eye. she is wearing teal eyeshadow and a dull yellow t-shirt. she is smiling, has her head turned to one side, and has one hand raised, fingers resting on her collarbone. 7. an anthropomorphic alien axolotl character from the waist up. they have turquoise skin with a scale pattern on their head, and an indigo to violet gradient on their gills. they are thin and flat-chested, and the gills on the left side of their face are stripped, missing the feathery parts. they are wearing a green alien mask and a gray and blue hoodie with purple text on it that says "get fresh." they have their left hand raised in a peace sign. 8. an anthro fox-parrot hybrid in a simple style. she has a fully red fox head, and her body is covered by a dress that ambiguously doubles as folded wings. her dress has a yellow ring at the top, and three stripes or red-orange-red for the rest of it. she has one wing extended, and it it shaped like a triangle, but curved so the end is raised to wave at the viewer. it is yellow on top, and has pale blue flight feathers. 9. a dark gray cat with lighter gray on her ears, face, and neck, green eyes, and a jagged scar on her neck/shoulder. she has a grumpy expression. 10. a halfbody of a seated feral cat. she has long thick gray fur, with black on her neck and the top of her head, and a white face. she has a narrow brown eye, and one missing eye. there is a scar on her lip, and another on her shoulder. /end ID]
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ashrodisiac · 9 months
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Obsessed w/ that pink nymph
Σ>―♥→
⌞  OBSESSED W/ THAT PINK NYMPH  ⌝
╰���─➤ Reader that absolutely loves king mel Melanie Martinez!!
Σ>―♥→
ʚ modern au
ʚ w/ mitsuri and obanai (seperate)
Σ>―♥→
OBANAI
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“Love?” he called out for you from the bedroom, while you were busying yourself in the kitchen. “Y/n!” he yelled out louder, but you still didn’t seem to hear him. He groaned, frustrated, and got up by himself from the bed.  Kaburamaru shook in its sleep, curled on the pillow, raising a scaly eyelid and tilting its head as its owner left. When Obanai got closer to you, he realized you had earphones plugged in, clogging any other sounds. He quickly took you in a tight hug, pulling your waist, making you jump and yelp out. Locking his hands on your abdomen, he pulled one of them back and brushed your hair away from your ears, taking the earphones off and letting them hang by their wire. ”Hey! why’d you do that?” you whined, pushing yourself off him with wet hands from the sink, getting his clothes damp. “You couldn’t hear me,” he said, yawning as if you weren’t trying to wrestle yourself from him just now. “I was calling you.”
You sighed. “You expect me to hear you over music on full blast?”
“What are you even listening to in the first place?”
You slipped one of your hands out of his grasp and took one of the earphone buds, placing it in his ear.
“...phology, not psychology Be the manic pixie dream girl that you fuckin' ought to be Damaged oddity, bought by Sotheby's Auctioned to a selfish man who thinks that he's the prophecy.”
He nearly let go of you when he felt the sudden vibration go through his head. “So loud!” he muttered, forcing the earphone off. You shrugged, then smiling. “That’s how I like my music. Loud until I’m deaf.”
You turned around, but your waist still pressed against his with his arms around you, pressing the button which lowered sounds on your phone. The earphones wire were plugged in the little socket hole, and he saw Spotify open, with the song titled NYMPHOLOGY nearing its end. When you lowered the volume a little, you put the earbud again in his ear, the music a little less loud now. 
“...Ar in all the movies Wears me out, big pockets, I am her favorite locket Keeps them droolin'....”
He noticed the beat was completely different from the one when the music was practically blasting his ears off. “Is this the same song?”
you nodded. “It’s the interlude called “ Amulet “. The song’s called Nymphology, by Melanie Martinez!” he saw the obvious grin spread across your face as you mentioned this singer’s name. “You’re a fan, huh?” he chuckled, putting the earphone in your ear instead of his now. You nodded. “I love Mel!”
You end up telling him all about her as you’re doing stuff at the countertop. He’s acting like he’s forced to listen, but he does actually enjoy your stories about the peculiar split-hair colored girl who died and was reincarnated as a nymph. 
Σ>―♥→
MITSURI 
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Mitsuri always found you humming to a song, sometimes softly muttering lyrics under your breath, which she found cute.
She’s heard you do it so much, she learned the words perfectly without listening to the official song from you, and finally decided to ask you about it as you were eating dinner with her.
“Hey, dear?” she said, in between chewing, spooning another scoop of food into her lips. “Hm? What’s up?” you responded, meeting eyes with her. “What’s that one song called?” she said, tapping her cheek. “The one that you always sing...”
Unaware that you ever did sing since you did it while zoning out, you were quite confused. “Huh? what song?”
She giggled at your confused expression. “The one that goes, “You are the light I’ve been searching for forever”. I hear you everyday! Your voice is so angelic.” she grinned widely. You were unable to tell her about the pieces of food stuck in the corners of her teeth, as per bringing up a conversation about your favorite song perked your ears up. “Light shower?” you asked, reaching for your phone in your pocket. “I can play it for you if you’d like,” 
she nodded eagerly. “Please do!”
You set your phone on the table, and let the soft instrumental intro begin. She tilted her head, clearly already liking it. 
“ You are the light I've been searchin' for forever Feels like, man, I've really never felt the rain Buried in the desert, didn't think I'd push through the dirt You just cleansed me like a waterfall, you came. ”
She softly started to go along with the singing, knowing the lyrics at heart, but having difficulty matching with the beat as it was her first time actually hearing the actual song. It was so cute to hear her stumble on words, realizing she got the tone wrong as she tried to sing with Melanie. All you could hear was the peaceful sound of that until the ending of the song...
“ But you made me want to Plan out my last days on earth, eating you Ooh-ooh-ooh The tips of your teeth fit perfect in me You're a shower of light I'd devour any day of the week (Baby, cleanse me). “
When it came to an end, Mitsuri was grinning. “I know all the lyrics!” she said proudly. “Yes you do,” you smiled back at her, then spooned another scoop of your food that you had accidentally left abandoned while listening to the song with Mitsuri doing a poor but at least cute attempts of tagging along.
She ends up re-watching the K-12 film with you almost every night, acting as if she didn’t know what would happen next, as if she hadn’t watched it the night before with you. She listens to the songs, crying to the emotional ones and singing with the ones she found to be happy. You’ve done it. You made Mitsuri a MELON MARTINI FAN :exploding_head:
Σ>―♥→
I MADE THIS BECAUSE I AM OVERLY OBSESSED WITH MELDOODLE MARSH!! WHERE ARE MY FELLOW EARTHLINGS AND CRYBABIES. COME BACK FROM THE DEAD BACK FROM THE DEAD
( im sorry :sob: )
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puddles2456 · 4 months
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last night was the best night of my life.
i don't know why, but Mistress went out for a few days and she left Thursday. Friday night Nothing changes, I sucked Master off 9 times after he came home from work, and then I was out away for the night. Saturday I woke Master up sucking him off and loved how I was able to just take my time and enjoy it. When Master orgasmed he pulled me up and held me for a long time. He hasn't held me like that since we first met. Master told me he is taking me out and that he will dress me as soon soon as we were done bathing. As normal I washed Masters body and sucked him off twice more in the shower. When we finished I dried Master off and then knelt in the corner as I was instruct and my hands cuffed behind my back, then a blindfold. I listened as Master got dressed, and then I grabbed my hair and helped me stand. He then dressed me. When he removed the blindfold he dressed me in a high school cheerleader uniform, the skirt being to short so my ass hung out the back, and the bottom of the chastity that securely kept my pussy covered was visible. He then placed a pair of glasses on me, and did my hair into pony tails. Then he did white socks and white heels that made more of my ass visible. He then bent me over and pushed a plug into my ass. This plug was split so it opened inside of me, Master would have to pull it out as it wouldn't be slipping out, then he showed me a little device that he put in his pocket. This remote can send shocks to your ass, and he presses a button, I was in my knees with my eyes clenched shut. A thing layer of sweat appeared on my skin. He explained my rules, 1) I'm not allowed to to talk to anyone he doesn't allow me to. 2) I will remain in his right side at all times, 3) I'm to bend over at my hips not my knees any time I need to reach lower. My heart was racing and I was turned on like crazy. Part of me wanted the plug to turn back on, but the normal part of me wanted it out. Master then led me to the garage and sat me in the passenger seat and buckled me in. As he started to stand he kissed me, like a real kiss, not a friend a kiss. It immediately made me soak the inside of the chastity and I felt my pussy juice on the car seat. Master got in and we left. First we went to a restaurant a little diner. We ordered and Master asked for an empty bowl. I was about to die, Master doesn't need an empty bowl unless he plans on making me eat on my knees just like at home. When out meals were dropped off at the table I was frozen staring at Master not knowing what to do. He sat there staring at me for several moments and then spoke, 'good girl, if you would have jumped into eating you'd be under the table eating from the bowl. But you may eat normal. Today is going to be fun and you need to have your energy.' I ate, trying to figure out what Master has planned. For months I've been kept in chains and chastity, only cleaning and orally pleasing Mistress and Master. I've never seen Master being so normal before, I was slightly terrified. When we finished Master paid the bill, and we left. We then went to the mall. I wanted to die. I don't have friends here so I wasn't worried about being recognized, but I have never been seen dressed like this ever by anyone except Master, and I was starting to have a panic attack. Masters hand was suddenly caressing my skin around the chastity on either side of my pussy. I melted. My world was only Masters touch and the never ending frustration building from being locked for several months without being touched ever. Master then stopped and got out of the car. My mind was mush, I wasn't thinking, only Masters rules were echoing in my head, as my pussy screamed in agony for a touch of anything it was never getting. Master led me to every store, I swear he looked at every item for sale. Occasionally I'd get a shock because I stepped to far away from Master. I didn't realize after a day of this I was silently being trained to always be close to Master or fear being shocked. We got a certain store I'm calling it violets secrets. Part 2 com
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