Jun 24
Loading...
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from T1
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Slovenia
seen from United States
seen from Belgium
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Belgium
seen from Netherlands
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Slovenia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Germany
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
𝜗ৎ 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐥 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝜗ৎ
Eddie Munson x gn!reader
Summary: The first time you laid eyes on Eddie is a moment you‘ll never forget. Especially his eyes.
Warnings: None, pure fluff, Eddie-admiring, English is not my first language and I‘m a bit rusty so bare with me 👉🏻👈🏻
Word count: 298
A/N: Yall this is just me simping HARD for Eddie (Yes, still) so enjoy! <3
Masterlist
You have no idea how long you‘ve been looking at him from across the room but something about this guy was so… captivating. You weren’t sure if it was the way he moved or how his dimples showed as soon as he started to grin. His hair that was quite a mess but he made it look cool, like it was meant to be like this. His cut-off a layer over his worn leather jacket, patches sewn neatly into the denim with buttons decorating the front pockets.
To most people in Hawkins he was the freak, the outcast. A black sheep or even a satanic who performs rituals to serve the devil. But for you he seemed like one of the coolest (and prettiest) guys you ever laid eyes on. You didn’t care about other‘s opinions, you never did. Why would you judge someone you don‘t really know?
While he was gesturing with his hands you noticed the silver jewellery gracing his fingers. Your breath hitched lightly as you imagined how they‘d feel against your hot skin, the way he‘d touch you. Your heart does a ridiculously stupid flip as the images fill your mind. Suddenly you cared way too much about a boy you never even talked to, what it would be like if he smiled just for you.
But none of that compared to the moment you caught a glimpse of his eyes. The soft brown, hazel colour. It made you dizzy immediately - but in the best way. He didn’t even look at you directly, yet you were still lucky enough to see them. The softness behind them combined with a wary, always ready to protect his friends or himself from the other students.
One day you‘d find the courage to talk to him. Hopefully.
♡ Feel free to like and reblog if you enjoyed ♡
constellations | t.shoto⋆˚࿔ no warnings apply 📚
synopsis: artist! s/o drawing on pro hero! shoto’s back. tags: fluff, admiration, shoto has moles, fake tattoos, anatomy study, gender neutral! reader, shoto is a sweetheart
a/n: i put a little more effort into this bc my classes start thursday. and i needed an outlet to romanticize my major 😞 also wrote this cause i couldn’t sleep, pay no mind to grammatical errors
shoto never noticed his moles.
they live in places he never cared to pay much attention to: one tucked beneath his lip; a couple scattered along the side of his neck, down to his traps, and to the collar bone; a whole litany bloomed across his back. he believes his body is something to train, maintain, and repair when it breaks.
you notice his moles.
you assumed he knew—they were on his body, after all. but you never made an apparent effort to comment on it. saying it out loud felt embarrassing, like you were admitting you counted them when he wasn’t looking, confessing your love through the desire to ponder.
sometimes, when he leaned over the sink to brush his teeth, you’d catch the one beneath his lip in the mirror and feel something warm bloom in your chest.
and other times, your eyes would linger on the side of his neck while he talked about his day, the mole peaking out from the collar of his shirt just for you to notice.
his back was you favorite. pale, wide, mostly untouched—save for a couple scars from intense training; between them, scattered like dandelion seeds, were his moles.
the light from the afternoon sun caught his skin unevenly, warm to the touch where the light hit him, while its cooler shadows tucked along his side. you laid behind him on the bed, sketchbook abandoned and forgotten, fingers tracing the lines of shoto’s spine without thinking. he sits bare-backed, turned away from you, slightly slouched, scrolling mindlessly through his emails.
you trace the dip between his shoulder blades, following the rise and fall of his breathing. your fingers settle there, pressing just enough to feel how his body tenses to your touch. you circle the hallow, once, then twice, infatuated with it.
on either side, his scapulas shift as he breathes, wings folding and unfolding under your hands. you follow one blade outward, meeting where the bone curves into muscle, then back again, returning to that hallow as its anchor point. Your thumb brushes a mole near the left blade just briefly, but the touch makes your chest ache all the same.
“you keep staring.” he interrupts, clicking off his phone and settling it down to his side.
you freeze, retreating your hand. “…sorry.”
he glances over his shoulder, eyes soft as they stare into yours. “i didn’t mind, i was just asking.”
silence stretches between you two, and you take the moment to look at him. like, really look at him. he’s so sweet in ways that it sneaks up on you when you least expect it. adorable, yes—but devastatingly handsome too, especially when he looks like this; looks at you like this, like you’re something precious he’s afraid he’ll mishandle.
your fingers curl into the sheets.
then finally, quieter, you admit: “i’ve always wanted to connect them—your moles, i mean. like a constellation.”
“i have moles?”
his inflection makes you laugh before you can stop yourself, the sound seemingly surprising him more than it did you.
you confess to him that you loved his back, how you loved running your hands over it, feeling the lines of his muscles and tracing the bones underneath; and his moles—god, his moles—connecting them to the muscle structure.
he asks you what you’d draw, if you could. not permanently, he clarifies; just to see.
you take a skin-safe marker, hands reverent as you map him gently, dot to dot, breath by breath. he sits very still while you work, like he’s afraid the stars might scatter if he moves.
your fingers brush over the slight ridges of old scars, over the knots in his shoulders, lingering far longer than necessary. each mole becomes a point, connected from one to another, forming the constellations you’ve always imagined.
he flinches once, breath hitching slightly as your fingers touch his sides.
you pause, letting out an almost audible chuckle. “you’re really still.”
“i want to see it properly,” he admits sheepishly, facing away from you as his ears redden. “i want to see how you see me.”
the words make your chest tighten, and when you finally lean back, running your hand lightly over your work, fingertips grazing the lines, a small smile tugs at your lips.
you grab your phone and snap a photo, handing it to him once you’re satisfied. he leans over it carefully, studying your masterpiece, fingers zooming in to see all of the finer details.
“…i think,” he says slowly, “i could get used to this.”
before you can respond, he turns around, leaning, pressing a light, affectionate peck on your forehead, and tugging you close until you’re lying down beside him
you both laugh, quiet giggles spilling out into the space between you as you cuddle, feeling the warmth of his skin pressing into yours.
that photo, will surely live as your home screen for a couple months after.
maybe years, if he doesn’t notice.
Fall In Love - y.jw
Kar loon barbaadi main, tere pyar mein
IN WHICH ──── more than heartbreak, falling in love is the scariest feeling you could ever have, especially if it's with Jungwon.
pairings ─ popular!jungwon x nerd!reader
genre: fluff, angst, falling in love, college au, love at first sight warnings: kissing, suggestive, smoking, underage drinking, parties, she fell first he fell harder, two worlds apart, admiring from afar, one sided love at first, reader and jungwon are yearners
It started during your freshman year, back when the campus felt like an alien planet and you were a magnet for embarrassing moments. You spent your first week bumping into upperclassmen and wishing the ground would swallow you whole.
The breaking point came on a Monday. You were already late for class, standing in front of a campus bike with a lock that refused to budge and a bank account that had just hit zero. As panic started to tighten in your chest, a soft ding cut through the noise.
The lock clicked open.
"Wouldn't want to be late on your first week, hm?"
You looked up to see a boy lowering his phone. With his bright blonde hair and effortless posture, he was striking—the kind of handsome that felt instantly intimidating.
"Th-thank you," you stuttered.
Your nerves caught him off guard, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. "You must be a first-year, right?"
You could only nod, quickly setting your bag into the bike’s basket to hide your burning cheeks.
"What building are you headed to?" he asked, pulling his phone back out.
"Uh... Colonel Hall." You quickly unlocked your screen and held out your schedule, showing him the building name.
He glanced at the screen, then pointed over his shoulder. "There's a shortcut down that path. If you pedal fast enough, you'll actually make it on time."
"Thank you! Uh..."
"Jungwon," he said, pulling his bag higher onto his shoulder.
"Jungwon," you repeated, testing the sound of it. "Thank you for... you know, paying for my bike."
"Don't worry about it," he replied.
He gave a brief nod before putting his earbuds in, his figure melting into the crowd as he walked back toward the campus apartments.
You stood frozen, your heart performing a wild somersault in your chest. As you stared at the unlocked bike, you realized everything had just changed. From that moment on, he was no longer just a handsome stranger—he was the boy who saved you from being late.
From then on, it felt like he was everywhere. You’d spot him across the crowded dining hall or catch a glimpse of him on your walk back to the dorms, and every single time, your eyes would instantly lock onto him. You couldn't help but admire him. You watched him guide lost freshmen, step in to help struggling students, and offer rides to anyone who needed a lift. That was the thing about Jungwon—he carried himself with a quiet, effortless confidence, but beneath it was a genuine selflessness that you couldn't help but fall for.
It was a terrifying realization. You spent so much of your day thinking about a guy you had only spoken to once, fully aware that you were likely nothing more than a passing thought to him. A crush was already a fragile, frightening thing to carry. But loving someone? Loving Jungwon? That was a completely different kind of danger.
"You okay, Byeol? You've been staring at Jungwon ever since we walked in," Sera said, her voice snapping you out of your daze.
You blinked, forcing a quick smile as you looked over at her. "I was just... zoned out. Sorry."
"It's cute," she said. "What?" you replied, a little breathless from the sudden call-out.
"It's cute that you like him," she explained, giving you a warm, reassuring look. "You wouldn't be the first, anyway. When someone is as popular and kind as Jungwon, falling in love is basically inevitable."
"What's he like?" you asked, closing your laptop and shifting to give her your undivided attention.
"Well, other than being kind, he’s known for being a bit of a frat boy," Sera said, leaning in. "He throws wild parties, drinks, does everything your typical frat boy would do. He's always surrounded by the rich, popular crowd. But even with all that, there’s no denying he’s incredibly attentive and actually considerate of others."
"A frat boy? Seriously?" you asked, your eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.
"Oh, please," Sera rolled her eyes playfully. "Literally every girl on campus has a crush on him. The only reason they don't have the guts to actually ask him out is because Julia, the head of the top sorority, has already made it clear she likes him."
"Does he like her back?" you asked, leaning forward.
Sera shook her head immediately. "He doesn't fall in love easily. She’s been trying to get close to him since last year, but he rejects her every single time. Still, she’s possessive. Whenever anyone else tries to make a move on him, she finds a way to threaten them."
That definitely gave you pause. It was one thing to quietly admire Jungwon from afar—you had no intention of actually confessing to him anyway. But the idea of getting threatened just for being in his orbit? That was a whole different level of scary. You just wanted to survive your freshman year, not star in a campus drama.
"Don't let it scare you," Sera added, noticing your expression. "She's not as terrifying as people make her out to be. Honestly, she's probably just insecure because she knows there are prettier girls out there for him." She gave you a knowing smile. "Like you."
A sudden warmth rushed to your face. "I'm not pretty."
Sera rolled her eyes, completely dismissing the modesty. "That is absolute bullshit. You're gorgeous, Byeol. I literally saw three guys almost trip over their own feet staring at you today."
As students began filtering out of the dining hall, your gaze drifted back to Jungwon. He was in the center of his group of six friends, all of them laughing, shoving, and teasing each other. For a long moment, you were completely captivated by how handsome his smile was—so much so that you almost missed the fresh, sharp scar cutting across his cheek, a quiet reminder of some fight he'd been in earlier.
Sera had successfully dragged you into going to a frat party for post-midterm weekend. It wasn't your cup of tea at all, but between her relentless begging and her boyfriend Riki’s teasing persuasion, you had somehow lost the argument.
"You have to look extra hot," Sera declared, practically burying herself in her closet as she hunted for the perfect outfit.
You watched in mounting dread as she tossed out a string of skimpy clothes—none of which were remote options for you.
"Sera, I'm not pretty enough to wear those," you protested, nervously pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.
"Shut up, Byeol," Sera called out, emerging from the closet with a triumphant grin. "I'm helping you. Now change into this."
Before you could object, a slip of a blue dress came flying through the air, landing right in your lap.
"Blue is his favorite color, by the way," Riki chimed in from where he was lounging.
You froze, clutching the fabric of the dress. "Whose?"
"Jungwon's," he replied with a knowing, lazy grin.
Escaping the pressure of their staring eyes, you retreated into the bathroom to change. When you finally stepped back out, adjusting the hem of the blue dress, the room fell quiet for a split second.
Then, Riki let out a low whistle.
Sera’s eyes went wide, a huge grin spreading across her face. "Oh my god, Byeol... you are absolutely beautiful."
You tugged at the hem, trying desperately to pull the blue fabric lower. "Isn't this... a little too short?" you asked, looking at yourself in the mirror with a worried frown.
Sera shook her head, walking over to swat your hands away from the hemline. "It's a frat party, Byeol. You're supposed to look this hot. Trust me, you look amazing."
Before you could argue, she pulled you over to her vanity chair, gently pushing you down in front of the mirror. You watched in a daze as she worked her magic—expertly applying makeup, replacing your glasses with a pair of contacts, and curling your hair. When she finally stepped back to let you see the finished look, your breath hitched.
Sera leaned over your shoulder, her eyes shining in the mirror's vanity lights. "Oh my god... Byeol, you are actually so gorgeous."
———
The party was a chaotic blur of bass, sweaty bodies, and neon lights. To help you relax, Sera and Riki had quickly bypassed the dance floor to get you a drink. After a couple of cups of a sweet, dangerously strong punch, the tight knot of anxiety in your chest finally began to unravel. You actually felt pretty. You felt like you belonged here.
But the illusion didn't last long.
Apologizing to Sera, you headed down a quiet hallway in search of a bathroom. The noise of the bass muffled as you walked further, searching for a vacant door.
That’s when the world seemed to stop spinning.
Standing by a half-open door at the end of the hall was Jungwon, his blonde hair catching the dim hallway light. And wrapped tightly in his arms was Julia.
You couldn't look away, even as a sharp pain bloomed in your chest. You watched as he leaned into her, his hand sliding up her neck as he kissed her passionately. In an instant, the blue dress, the makeup, and the silly hope you'd been carrying all night felt completely foolish.
The happy buzz of the party felt miles away as Sera and Riki walked into the hall. Sera's smile vanished. "Oh, baby," she whispered, her arm instantly wrapping around your shoulder to anchor you as she felt you start to tremble.
Riki stepped forward, his posture rigid. "Jungwon," he said, his voice dripping with deep disappointment. "There's a time and place for everything."
"Yeah, well, it's a party, Nishimura. This is the time and place," Julia scoffed, brushing past Jungwon to confront Riki face-to-face. She crossed her arms, her eyes flicking over to you and Sera. A cold, recognizing sneer touched her lips when she noticed how you were dressed. "Why are you guys lingering in the hallway anyway? Looking for a show?"
You shrunk back, but Jungwon’s eyes immediately snapped to you, his gaze lingering on the blue dress as a heavy, tense silence filled the corridor.
Jungwon remained quiet, his dark eyes slowly tracing over you. He took in every detail—from the delicate makeup to the way the provocative blue dress hugged your curves—and a sudden, sharp possessiveness crept up in his chest.
"Don't talk to him like that, Julia," he said, his voice dropping into a chilling, quiet tone.
Julia snapped her head back toward him, her jaw dropping in utter shock. "But, baby—"
"I'm not your baby," he cut her off coldly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Leave."
Julia’s face twisted into an ugly pout. She stomped her foot, huffing in frustration. As she stormed past, she threw a venomous glare over her shoulder. "This is your fault," she hissed at Sera, before her heels clattered furiously down the hallway.
The roaring bass of the party felt like a distant hum from where you sat next to Jungwon at the kitchen counter. The silence stretched between you, heavy and awkward, and you stared down at your hands, completely lost for words.
"Sorry for what you had to see," Jungwon said softly.
You looked up, caught off guard. He was watching you closely, studying your reaction.
"She wouldn't leave me alone unless I kissed her," he added simply. His voice was quiet, completely stripped of his usual playful attitude, and it was laced with a raw truth that made your heart skip a beat.
"You're the girl with the bike," Jungwon said, the realization suddenly lighting up his eyes as he looked at you. "The one I paid for."
Memories of your chaotic first day of college came rushing back—the embarrassing crash, his unexpected kindness, and the lingering warmth he'd left behind. "Yeah..." you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
He took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze never drifting from your face. "I never did get your name."
You looked down, suddenly finding the floor very interesting as a blush crept up your neck. "It's Byeol."
"Byeol," he murmured, his voice wrapping around your name like a quiet secret. He leaned in just a fraction closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you forget how to breathe. "A pretty name for a pretty girl."
Your breath hitched. First Sera, and now him? You definitely weren't prepared for Jungwon to look at you like you were the only person in the room.
The praise hung heavily in the space between you, sweet and dizzying. You swallowed hard, desperate to find some sort of anchor before you completely dissolved under his gaze.
"Thank you," you managed to whisper, your fingers tightly interlaced. Desperate to steer the attention away from your burning cheeks, your eyes involuntarily flicked upward, landing on the faint, raw mark on his cheekbone that you had noticed earlier in the dining hall.
Up close, the scar was much more prominent. It was a jagged, pale line cutting through his otherwise flawless skin—a quiet proof of the rougher, darker world he apparently walked in when he wasn't playing the golden-boy campus idol.
Jungwon noticed the direction of your gaze. Instead of flinching or trying to hide it, he slowly traced the jagged line with the tip of his finger, his eyes softening as he looked at you.
"Ah. You're looking at this," he murmured, his voice dropping to a quieter, more intimate tone.
"I'm sorry," you stammered, heat rushing to your face as you tried to look away. "I really didn't mean to stare."
"It's fine, Byeol," he said gently, leaning a bit closer on the counter so his shoulder was almost brushing yours. "Usually, people just whisper about it behind my back and make up some wild story. I’d much rather you just look."
He let his hand drop, his dark eyes holding yours.
"I got it last weekend," he explained quietly. "There was a guy at a diner off-campus who was getting aggressive with one of the freshman girls. She was clearly uncomfortable and trying to leave, but he wouldn't let her go. I stepped in to pull her away, the guy lost his temper and took a swing at me, and his ring caught my cheek."
Jungwon gave a small, casual shrug, though his gaze remained intensely focused on your reaction. "It looks a lot worse than it actually was. But I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
The sheer honesty in his voice made your chest tighten. The campus rumors always painted him as a reckless, hot-tempered guy who looked for trouble, but sitting here with him now, you realized the truth was entirely different. He was just someone who couldn't stand by and watch someone else get hurt.
You reach out, your thumb grazing the scar. The moment your thumb brushed against his skin, the noise of the entire party seemed to completely cut out.
Your touch was incredibly gentle, a featherlight warmth tracing the jagged edge of the healing cut. Underneath your fingertip, you felt the sudden, sharp hitch in his chest as his entire body went completely still. He didn't pull away. He didn't even blink.
Jungwon’s eyes widened, his usual cool, untouchable facade instantly cracking. For all his smooth talk and effortless charm, this simple, quiet gesture caught him completely off guard. Inside his chest, his heart did a sudden, violent summersault, hammering against his ribs so loudly he was certain you could hear it.
He stared down at you, his dark eyes locked onto yours, utterly captivated by the soft, genuine worry in your expression. Nobody touched him like this—not to soothe, and certainly not with this kind of raw, quiet tenderness.
"Byeol..." he whispered, his voice suddenly sounding a little breathless, his gaze dropping to your lips before snapping right back up to your eyes.
"S-Sorry" you say, pulling your hand away.
The sudden loss of your warmth left a cold patch on his cheek. Jungwon’s hand twitched slightly on the counter, as if his first instinct was to reach out and catch your retreating fingers before you could pull them completely out of reach.
Your face burned a brilliant crimson. You stared down at your lap, your fingers instantly tangling together in your lap as you wished the kitchen floor would just open up and swallow you. Why did you do that? You barely knew him, yet you had just reached out and touched him like—
"Don't be," Jungwon said softly, cutting off your spiraling thoughts.
When you reluctantly looked up, you didn't see any annoyance or tease in his eyes. Instead, his expression was incredibly gentle, his dark eyes searching yours with a quiet intensity.
"You don't ever have to apologize for that, Byeol," he murmured.
He raised his own hand, his fingertips lightly covering the spot on his cheekbone where yours had just been, a soft, genuine smile returning to his lips. "If anything... I think it actually stopped hurting just now."
The heavy, humid air of the kitchen and the thumping bass of that sophomore frat party felt like a lifetime ago. Two years had passed, blurring into a whirlwind of late-night study sessions, endless cups of coffee, and the quiet rhythm of university life.
Now, you were in your junior year, finally finding your footing and feeling far more grounded than the shy girl who had nervously tugged at a short blue dress.
A lot had changed since then. Jungwon had graduated, trading the chaotic campus life for the structured, exhausting routine of a corporate job and grad school. He was entirely focused on his future now, navigating a world of professional responsibilities that kept him miles away from the undergraduate bubble. You hadn't seen him—or touched the faint trace of his cheekbone scar—since those college days.
Sera and Riki, however, were still your constants.
Though Riki was the youngest of his group of six close friends, he was the only one left on campus as a senior, preparing to finally cross the graduation stage at the end of this year. Sera, of course, was as fiercely devoted to him as ever, her loud, protective energy keeping your little trio tight-knit even as the older boys drifted into their post-grad lives.
Yet, as you sat in the campus library, staring down at your open textbook, your mind drifted. Riki's upcoming graduation meant the end of an era—and with all of his old friends bound to return for the ceremony, it was only a matter of time before the past caught up with the present.
The quiet of your apartment was suddenly broken by the sharp buzz of Riki’s phone vibrating on the coffee table.
Sera was curled up on the other end of the couch, scrolling through her phone, while you were trying to pretend to focus on your laptop. Riki reached over, picking up the device, but he didn't answer it immediately. Instead, he stared at the screen, his expression shifting into something quiet and deliberate.
He looked up, his gaze locking directly onto yours.
"It's Jay Hyung," Riki said, his deep voice cutting through the silence of the room.
A sudden, sharp knot formed in your stomach. Riki didn't need to explain why he was looking at you like that. You all knew the unspoken rule of their friend group—wherever Jay was, Jungwon was never far behind. If Jay was calling Riki, it meant the post-grad boys were officially back in town, and Jungwon was likely sitting right beside him.
Sera’s head snapped up instantly, her protective best-friend radar pinging as her eyes darted between you and her boyfriend.
"Put it on speaker, babe," Sera said softly, though her eyes remained fixed on your face, watching for your reaction.
Riki glanced at you one last time, a silent warning in his eyes, before tapping the screen to accept the FaceTime call.
Immediately, the bright, high-definition screen lit up, showing Jay’s familiar, handsome face. He was in the passenger seat of a car, the streetlights of the familiar campus strip reflecting off his sunglasses as he grinned.
"Hey Riki! How's our little brother doing?" Jay asked, his voice booming through the speaker. He tilted the camera slightly to the left, revealing the driver's seat. "I'm with Jungwon right now, we're close to campus if you're not busy."
Your breath caught.
There he was. Jungwon’s profile was sharp against the dim light of the car interior. He had his eyes on the road, one hand casual on the steering wheel, wearing a tailored dark coat that made him look every bit the corporate post-grad he now was. But as soon as Jay mentioned being close to campus, Jungwon darted a quick, curious glance toward the phone screen.
The moment his eyes registered the background of your apartment—and then, inevitably, you sitting on the couch next to Sera—he froze.
The cool, professional composure he’d been wearing instantly flickered, his dark eyes widening slightly in surprise as he looked at you through the screen for the first time in two years.
"Yes actually! Sera, Byeol, and I were just about to bake some cookies," Riki said, his tone casual but his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief as he looked at the screen.
On the other end of the line, Jay’s face instantly lit up. "Cookies? Seriously? You can't just say that to two starving grad students who have been living off convenience store ramen and caffeine for the last month."
He immediately turned the camera fully toward Jungwon, capturing his reaction.
Jungwon’s grip on the steering wheel visibly tightened. His eyes darted from the road to the phone screen, locking directly onto you. The cool, exhausted expression he had been wearing just moments ago completely vanished, replaced by a sudden, intense focus.
"Cookies, huh?" Jay teased, nudging Jungwon's shoulder. "Hey, Jungwon, aren't you suddenly craving something sweet? And look, Byeol is there too. We haven't seen her in forever."
Jungwon cleared his throat, his voice low and smooth as it filtered through the speaker—sounding deeper and more mature than you remembered from two years ago.
"If... if it's not a bother," Jungwon said, his dark eyes holding yours through the screen, a quiet, hesitant hope flickering in them. "We could bring over some drinks? Or help you guys bake."
Sera immediately nudged your elbow with her shoulder, a massive, knowing smirk spreading across her face. The quiet apartment suddenly felt very warm, and your heart was already racing at the thought of Jungwon standing in your kitchen in just a few minutes.
"It's no issue!" Sera says quickly "hurry and come, bring back some coke if you can"
"Got it. Coke and cookies, a classic," Jay laughed, giving a mock salute to the camera. "We'll stop by the convenience store on the corner and be there in five. See you guys!"
With a quick wave, the screen went black, leaving the apartment suddenly, deafeningly quiet.
Sera instantly threw her head back on the couch cushion, a victorious grin spreading across her face. "Oh, this is perfect. A little reunion," she said, nudging your shoulder playfully. "And did you see the way he looked at you the second your face popped up on the screen? Two years and the boy still looks like he saw a ghost. A very pretty ghost."
"Sera, stop," you mumbled, your cheeks instantly burning as you stood up and headed toward the kitchen to hide your face.
Your heart was pounding against your ribs. Two years. You had spent the last two years convincing yourself that the quiet, hyper-charged moment in the kitchen during your freshman year was just a fleeting college memory. But now, he was on his way to your apartment.
Riki followed you into the kitchen, a faint, knowing smile on his face as he opened the pantry to grab the baking ingredients. "He looked good," Riki noted quietly, glancing at you. "A lot busier, but... he hasn't changed as much as you think, Byeol."
"I highly doubt he cares Riki.. he didn't even message me once he graduated"
Riki paused, the bag of flour still in his hand as he looked at you. The easy, teasing atmosphere in the kitchen suddenly softened, replaced by a quiet, heavy reality.
Sera’s playful grin instantly faded. She got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen, leaning against the counter next to you. "Hey," she said gently, bumping her shoulder against yours. "Is that why you've been so quiet about him?"
"I'm just being realistic," you muttered, keeping your eyes on the mixing bowl. "He got his degree, started his life, and completely moved on. We had one nice talk at a party two years ago. It’s not like we were dating."
"He didn't message you because he thought he'd lost his chance, Byeol," Riki said quietly.
You looked up, caught off guard by his serious tone.
Riki set the flour down on the counter and sighed. "I talk to Jungwon Hyung all the time. After he graduated, he went straight into a sixteen-hour-a-day grind between his corporate job and grad school. He told me once that he felt like he'd completely ghosted on the life he had here. He didn't think he had the right to just pop back into your inbox after months of silence without looking like a jerk."
Before you could process Riki's words, the sharp, distinct sound of the apartment buzzer rang through the air.
Your stomach did a violent flip. They were here.
"That's probably not true, he's just trying to be nice"
"Byeol," Sera said, her voice dropping all its usual teasing playfulness as she stepped closer, grabbing your wrists to stop your frantic hands from organizing the baking bowls. "Look at me."
You reluctantly met her eyes, your chest tight with a mix of anxiety and stubborn self-preservation.
"Jungwon is a lot of things," Sera said softly but firmly, "but he is not a 'charity' nice guy. He doesn't do things just to be polite. If he didn't care, he wouldn't have looked at the screen like he just found water in a desert."
"She's right," Riki added from the doorway, his hand resting on the intercom button. "Trust me on this. But you can ask him yourself in a second."
Riki pressed the buzzer to let them up, and the heavy click of the building's downstairs door unlocking echoed through your small apartment.
Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Within three minutes, the elevator would open on your floor, and Jungwon would be standing right in front of you. Two years of quiet, unresolved questions were about to walk straight through your front door.
"Okay," Sera whispered, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to give you some space. "Deep breaths. We're just baking cookies."
The heavy click of the apartment lock turning made you freeze.
When the front door swung open, Jay walked in first, his loud, boisterous laughter instantly filling the quiet entryway. But your eyes immediately locked on the figure standing right behind him.
You held your breath.
Jungwon stepped into the apartment, and for a second, it felt like two years had evaporated into thin air. He looked breathtakingly familiar, yet undeniably different. His blonde hair was swept back, styled with a casual precision that showed off the sharp, striking lines of his jaw and cheekbones.
He had filled out a little, his shoulders broader under the dark, tailored wool coat he wore over a simple black sweater. The youthful, boyish edge he’d carried as a college sophomore had hardened into something far more grounded and mature—the quiet confidence of a man who was finding his place in the world.
Yet, as he stepped over the threshold and kicked off his shoes, his dark eyes scanned the room, bypassing Riki and Sera entirely.
The moment his gaze landed on you, he stopped.
The mature, collected exterior he’d walked in with suddenly cracked. His eyes softened, his lips parting slightly in a silent, breathless recognition as he looked at you standing there in your kitchen, a mixing bowl still in your hands.
"Hey, Byeol," he said, his voice lower and richer than you remembered, yet carrying that same gentle tone that had kept you awake two years ago.
"H-Hi" you stutter, just like the day you first met
The stutter slipped out before you could stop it, instantly transporting both of you back to the crowded, humid kitchen of that sophomore frat party. Your face burned, a fresh wave of mortification washing over you as you squeezed the mixing bowl in your hands just a little tighter.
Jungwon paused. For a split second, his eyes softened even further, a quiet, nostalgic warmth flooding his gaze. The corner of his mouth slowly curved into that familiar, dimpled smile you had spent the last two years trying to forget.
"Hey," Jay’s loud voice broke the sudden spell as he walked past Jungwon, holding up a plastic bag. "We got the Coke! Riki, show me where the cups are, I'm parched."
Sera immediately caught Jay's arm, steering him and Riki toward the dining table with a sharp, knowing look. They slipped away, deliberately leaving the two of you standing on the threshold of the kitchen.
Suddenly, the space between you felt incredibly small.
Jungwon took a slow, deliberate step forward, slipping his hands into the pockets of his dark coat. The faint scent of the crisp night air and a subtle, sophisticated cologne drifted over to you, wrapping around you like a physical presence.
"Still stuttering when you see me, Byeol?" he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register meant only for your ears.
He stopped just a couple of feet away, close enough that you had to tilt your head up slightly to meet his eyes. Up close, you could see the faint, silvery trace on his cheekbone—the scar you had gently touched two years ago, now completely healed but still a quiet, permanent mark.
His dark eyes locked onto yours, searching your face with an intensity that made your heart do that familiar, chaotic summersault.
"I was worried you'd be mad at me," he confessed softly, his chest rising with a quiet, heavy sigh. "For... not reaching out after I graduated."
"No no it's okay! Yo-you're not obligated too"
Your frantic, polite defense tumbled out of your mouth, and you immediately wanted to take it back. You're not obligated to. It sounded so formal, so distant—like you were trying to draw a neat, polite line between you, as if the memory of your touch on his cheek had never happened.
Jungwon didn't move, but the dimpled smile on his face faded, replaced by something much more quiet and intense. He took one more step closer, closing the remaining distance until he was standing just at the edge of the kitchen counter, shielding you from the view of the living room where Jay and Sera’s voices faded into background noise.
"Obligated?" he repeated, the word sounding heavy on his tongue.
He took his hands out of his coat pockets. For a second, his fingers twitched, as if he wanted to reach out, but he kept them at his side. His dark eyes searched yours, incredibly earnest.
"I didn't stay silent because I felt 'obligated' to move on, Byeol," he said, his voice dropping to a low, rough whisper. "I stayed silent because I was terrified."
He gave a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head slightly.
"I walked straight into a sixteen-hour-a-day grind the second I graduated. I felt like a ghost, just moving between an office and a library. And every time I picked up my phone to text you, I stopped. I thought... 'She’s still at university, living her life. What right do I have to drag her into my mess when I don't even have time to breathe?'"
Jungwon leaned down slightly, bringing his face level with yours, his eyes locked onto yours with absolute sincerity.
"I didn't want to be a distraction. But I never, ever wanted you to think I didn't care."
Your chest tightened, a sudden, breath-stealing flutter blooming behind your ribs. You stared up at him, completely defenseless against the sheer honesty pouring from his eyes.
For two years, you had built up a wall of logic to protect yourself. You had convinced yourself that you were just a fleeting, insignificant blip in his busy life. But hearing him lay it all out—confessing that he had held back out of a quiet, protective fear of dragging you down—shattered every single defense you had painstakingly put in place.
"Jungwon..." you breathed, his name slipping out of your mouth before you could stop it, soft and fragile.
The kitchen around you seemed to shrink until there was nothing else but the hum of the refrigerator, the distant, muffled sound of Jay laughing in the living room, and the intense warmth of Jungwon’s presence standing right in front of you.
He noticed the shift in your eyes, his gaze dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before rushing back up to lock onto yours. He took a tiny, cautious step closer, his hand rising from his side to rest lightly on the edge of the kitchen counter, just a hair’s breadth away from where your hand gripped the mixing bowl.
"I thought about you a lot, Byeol," he murmured, his voice so quiet it was almost a confession. "More than I should have."
Hearing him say it was one thing, but looking into his eyes, you realized he wasn’t just saying it to be sweet. He was completely, utterly serious.
For the past two years, Jungwon’s life had been a relentless, exhausting blur of demanding professors, endless corporate spreadsheets, and high-pressure projects that kept him awake until the sun rose. By all accounts, his brain should have been entirely occupied by his career and his degree.
Instead, it had been occupied by you.
During those grueling sixteen-hour days, whenever he was staring at a glowing laptop screen at 3:00 AM, or sitting through a dry lecture, his mind would inevitably drift back to campus. He’d wonder what you were studying, if you were eating well, or if you still wore that soft shade of blue. He had spent the last two years so thoroughly preoccupied by thoughts of you that, looking back, he honestly didn’t even understand how he had managed to graduate or keep his job. You had been his quiet, constant anchor in the middle of all his chaos, even from afar.
"I’m serious," he whispered, his eyes searching yours as if trying to convey two years' worth of unspoken thoughts in a single look. "There were days I’d be staring at a project for hours, and the only thing running through my head was how you were doing. It was... actually a little ridiculous how much you were on my mind."
He let out a soft, breathy laugh, his fingers on the counter twitching just a fraction closer to yours.
"So please," he murmured, his voice dropping to an incredibly gentle, pleading tone. "Don't ever think I just moved on."
All of those thoughts rushed through your mind in a silent, overwhelming wave.
For the last two years, you had been terrified that you’d never see him again. You’d spent countless nights wondering if he had found a girlfriend, if he was living a bright, busy life where you were nothing more than a blurry, forgotten memory. You didn’t even understand why it still affected you this deeply, but the truth was, you had waited. You had fallen so hard for him that night in the kitchen that you hadn't known how to move on, choosing instead to keep a quiet, painful vigil in your heart.
But you couldn't bring yourself to say any of it out loud.
The raw vulnerability of those thoughts felt too massive, too terrifying to lay bare in the middle of your brightly lit kitchen with Sera and Jay just a room away. If you confessed all of that now, there would be no going back.
So, you swallowed the lump in your throat, forcing the overwhelming rush of emotion back down. You looked down at your hands, which were still tightly gripping the edges of the plastic mixing bowl, your knuckles turning slightly white.
"I... I didn't think you'd remember me that clearly," you whispered, your voice quiet and heavily guarded, a sharp contrast to the storm raging inside your chest. "With how busy your life got. I just figured... you had more important things to focus on."
Jungwon’s eyes searched your face, tracking the subtle shift in your posture, the way you suddenly closed yourself off. He was incredibly perceptive; he could clearly tell there was a massive chasm between what you were feeling and what you were actually letting him see.
The tension in the air stretched, thick and almost tangible.
Instead of pushing you, Jungwon slowly reached out. He didn't cup your cheek or make a grand gesture. Instead, he simply placed his hand on the counter, his index finger gently brushing against the side of your hand where it gripped the bowl.
It was a tiny, fleeting point of contact, but it sent a jolt of warmth straight up your arm.
"There's nothing more important than this, Byeol," he said softly, his voice a low, steady promise. He didn't bridge the physical gap between you entirely, but the intensity in his dark eyes made it feel like he was holding you anyway. "I'm not going to let two years of silence happen again. I promise."
Jungwon had always been someone who moved through life with a quiet, deliberate focus, rarely distracted by his surroundings. But that chilly afternoon on campus, everything changed with a single glance.
He was walking back to his apartment after a grueling three-hour lecture, his head down as he aimlessly scrolled through his phone just to kill the time. The campus was busy, a blur of students rushing past him, until his eyes caught on a figure standing near the bike-share rack.
He stopped in his tracks.
You were standing there, looking utterly defeated by a stubborn metal bicycle. He had never seen anyone so pretty in his life.
You had a pair of round glasses sitting slightly low on the bridge of your nose, and your eyebrows were knitted together in deep, adorable distress as you stared at your phone screen, frantically tapping at the bike-share app. A cold breeze blew a strand of hair across your face, and you tucked it behind your ear with a frustrated sigh, completely unaware of how breathtaking you looked in that exact moment of quiet chaos.
Jungwon’s heart did something strange and sudden—a sharp, heavy thud against his ribs that actually startled him.
Without a second thought, his feet started moving before his brain could even formulate an excuse. He didn't want you to be stressed, and more than anything, he desperately wanted a reason to talk to you.
As he closed the distance, he quickly opened the same ride-share app on his own phone. He stepped up beside you just as you let out another quiet, desperate huff.
"Here," he said, his voice surprisingly steady despite the sudden rush of adrenaline.
Before you could even look up, he reached out and scanned the QR code on the bike frame with his phone. Within a second, the heavy metal lock gave a loud, satisfying click, freeing the bike.
He slid his phone back into his pocket, his heart hammering against his ribs as you finally looked up at him through those low-hanging glasses, your wide, startled eyes locking onto his for the very first time.
Even then, he was already completely goner.
"Th-thank you," you stuttered, your voice so soft and quiet it was almost swallowed by the chilly autumn wind.
The sudden tremor in your voice caught him completely off guard. Up close, you looked even smaller, your wide eyes blinking up at him through those round lenses. Your nerves were so raw, so incredibly transparent, that he felt a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips before he could even try to play it cool.
"You must be a first-year, right?" He asked, keeping his voice low and gentle. He didn't want to startle you any more than he already had.
Instead of answering, you just gave a quick, flustered nod. You practically threw your bag into the bike’s wire basket, your head ducking so low your hair fell forward. But you weren't fast enough to hide the bright, rosy flush creeping up your neck and painting your cheeks.
Cute, he thought, a strange, warm flutter blooming in his chest. It was ridiculous how quickly you were getting to him without even trying.
"What building are you headed to?" He asked, pulling his phone back out. Honestly, he knew every single square inch of this campus by heart. He didn't need a map. He just desperately wanted an excuse to stand there with you for a few seconds longer, to hear you speak again.
"Uh... Colonel Hall," you murmured.
Before he could even offer to give you directions, you quickly unlocked your phone and held it out toward him. Your hand was trembling slightly as you pointed to your schedule, showing him the digital map and the building name.
He leaned in, pretending to study your screen. But as he did, the faint, sweet scent of your perfume drifted over to him, and his eyes drifted from the screen to your small, delicate fingers gripping the phone.
He had never been the type to believe in clichés, but standing there under the campus trees, looking at your flushed face, he realized he was already completely, hopelessly lost.
His mind was still completely occupied by you long after you rode away on that bike. He hadn't even gotten your name, but those wide eyes behind your glasses were burned into his brain.
A few weeks later, the only thing anyone on campus could talk about was the massive party Heeseung wanted to throw at the Enhypen frat house.
Honestly, he didn't want to go. He dreaded the thought of it—specifically, he dreaded having to deal with the exhausting, superficial crowd, and finding ways to dodge Julia. She had been hovering around him for weeks, and he just didn't have the energy to politely decline her all night in a crowded room. He was ready to lock himself in his room with a stack of textbooks and call it a night.
But then Jay barged into his room, throwing a clean shirt at his face and refusing to take no for an answer.
"Come on, Jungwon," Jay had groaned, leaning against his desk. "You've been acting like a hermit. One drink, and if you hate it, I'll let you escape back to your cave."
With a defeated sigh, he finally agreed, throwing on a black jacket and heading downstairs.
The house was already packed to the brim, the bass rattling the floorboards. He kept his head down, grabbing a drink and trying to blend into the shadows near the kitchen, desperately hoping the night would pass quickly.
He had no idea that you—the girl he’d been secretly looking for in every crowd for the last three weeks—were about to walk right through the front door.
He gripped the condensation-slicked glass in his hand, the pounding bass of the living room vibrating through his chest, but his mind was still miles away. He was thinking of you. He wondered if you were somewhere on campus studying, or if you were already asleep, completely unaware of how heavily you were weighing on his thoughts.
"Hi, baby," a voice purred beside him.
He didn't even have to look to know who it was. He rolled his eyes, a heavy sigh slipping past his lips as he took a slow sip of his drink.
"I'm not your baby, Julia," he said, his voice flat and entirely devoid of interest.
Julia just giggled, completely unfazed by the cold shoulder. She leaned against the bar, trying to catch his downcast gaze. "Oh, come on. Don't be so boring, cutie."
"Leave me alone," he replied, his tone hardening as he deliberately turned his shoulder to her, facing away from the bar to scan the crowded room. He just wanted to find Jay, tell him he was leaving, and go back to his quiet room where he could think about you in peace.
But Julia wasn't taking the hint. She stepped into his line of sight again, a playful, stubborn pout on her lips.
"Only if you kiss me."
That's how he found himself pinning her against the wall near the bathroom, kissing her with frustration. "Jungwon," he heard riki say, his voice dripping with deep disappointment. "There's a time and place for everything."
"Yeah, well, it's a party, Nishimura. This is the time and place," Julia scoffed, brushing past Jungwon to confront Riki face-to-face. She crossed her arms, her eyes flicking over to you and Sera. A cold, recognizing sneer touched her lips when she noticed how you were dressed. "Why are you guys lingering in the hallway anyway? Looking for a show?"
You shrunk back, but Jungwon’s eyes immediately snapped to you, his gaze lingering on the blue dress as a heavy, tense silence filled the corridor.
The air in the narrow hallway turned suffocatingly thick.
Under the dim, flickering hallway lights, Jungwon felt a sudden, cold wave of reality crash over him. The heat of frustration that had driven him to pin Julia to the wall just to get her to stop pestering him evaporated instantly, leaving behind a hollow, bitter taste.
He didn't care about Julia's defensive scoffing. He didn't even care about the sharp sting of Riki's disappointment.
Because his eyes had just landed on you.
You were standing right there behind Riki, trying to shrink back into the shadows of the corridor, looking smaller than ever. And you were wearing a soft, dusty blue dress—the exact shade he had spent the last three weeks picturing in his head.
Jungwon’s heart stopped. It was you.
The girl from the bike rack. The girl with the low-hanging glasses and the flushed cheeks who had completely ruined his focus for twenty-one days straight. You were actually here, standing in his house, witnessing him in the middle of this toxic, messy drama.
A heavy, suffocating silence filled the corridor.
Julia was still sneering, waiting for a reaction, but Jungwon didn't even hear her. His gaze locked onto you, lingering on the blue fabric of your dress before slowly rising to meet your eyes. The realization of what you must be thinking—what he must look like to you right now—hit him like a physical blow to the chest.
For the first time all night, the cool, indifferent facade he wore like armor completely cracked, replaced by a sudden, desperate panic.
"Don't talk to him like that, Julia," he said, his voice dropping into a chilling, quiet tone.
Julia snapped her head back toward him, her jaw dropping in utter shock. "But, baby—"
"I'm not your baby," he cut her off coldly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Leave."
...
"Sorry for what you had to see," He said softly.
You looked up, caught off guard. He was watching you closely, studying your reaction.
"She wouldn't leave me alone unless I kissed her," he added simply. His voice was quiet, completely stripped of his usual playful attitude, and it was laced with a raw truth that made your heart skip a beat.
"You're the girl with the bike," Jungwon said, the realization suddenly lighting up his eyes as he looked at you. "The one I paid for."
Memories of your chaotic first day of college came rushing back—the embarrassing crash, his unexpected kindness, and the lingering warmth he'd left behind. "Yeah..." you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
He took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze never drifting from your face. "I never did get your name."
You looked down, suddenly finding the floor very interesting as a blush crept up your neck. "It's Byeol."
"Byeol," he murmured, his voice wrapping around your name like a quiet secret his heart racing like no other. He leaned in just a fraction closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you forget how to breathe. "A pretty name for a pretty girl."
"The cookies are almost done," Sera’s voice called out from the living room, sharp enough to break the quiet, heavy bubble that had wrapped around the two of you.
Jungwon blinked, suddenly snapping out of his daze.
While he was still processing the quiet distance you were keeping, you had stepped back over to the counter to check on the oven. Jay had wandered into the kitchen, immediately cracking some ridiculous joke that actually made you break into a genuine laugh.
Jungwon’s gaze followed you. Standing a few feet back, he watched as you smiled warmly at his friend. Your laugh was soft, and your smile—bright, effortless, and entirely unguarded—struck him with a sudden, quiet ache. To him, seeing you like this, in the same room, looking so incredibly pretty and real after two years of existing only in his memories, felt completely surreal.
He wanted to be the one making you laugh like that. He wanted to be the reason your eyes crinkled at the corners.
Slowly, Jungwon walked over to the counter, stepping up next to Jay. He kept his movements casual, but his eyes never left your face.
"What's so funny?" he asked, his voice low and quiet, trying to thread his way back into your space.
"I was just telling her about that time you confessed to your crush in middle school" Jay says, Jungwon tensing a little "hyung.. it was embarrassing" he says but you thought it was cute "I actually think it's cute"
At your words, Jungwon’s eyes snapped directly to yours.
The embarrassment that had tensed his shoulders seemed to melt away, replaced by a quiet, flustered surprise. A faint, warm color crept up his neck, standing out against his blonde hair. He stared at you, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, completely caught off guard by your defense.
"You... you do?" he asked softly. He ignored Jay entirely, his focus narrowing down to just you once again.
"Oh, look at him," Jay laughed, nudging Jungwon’s shoulder with his elbow. "One word from Byeol and suddenly he’s not embarrassed anymore. Where was this energy when I was teasing you in the car, huh?"
Sera walked back into the kitchen, holding a pair of oven mitts and wearing a knowing grin. "Exactly. Besides, middle school confessions are always a disaster. It builds character." She slid past Jay and opened the oven door, letting the warm, sweet scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies flood the kitchen. "Alright, they're done. Jungwon, grab those cooling racks from the cabinet. Let's see if your baking skills have improved since college."
Jungwon tore his eyes away from you, clearing his throat as he reached up to open the cabinet Sera pointed to. Even as he reached for the racks, his shoulder lightly brushed against yours in the narrow kitchen space.
It was a small, accidental touch, but he paused for a fraction of a second, his side lingering against yours just a beat longer than necessary before he pulled back with a quiet, appreciative glance.
The lively chatter of the evening finally wound down, leaving the apartment quiet and heavy with sleep.
Jay had claimed the spare room, immediately crashing after a long day. Riki and Sera bid you both a quiet, knowing goodnight before retreating to their shared room, leaving a lingering, charged silence in their wake.
Now, it was just the two of you in the living room.
The only light came from the soft, warm glow of the corner lamp, casting long shadows across the floor. Jungwon sat on the opposite end of the couch, having shed his heavy wool coat. In his simple black sweater, he looked relaxed, yet there was a quiet tension in the way he sat, his dark eyes fixed on his hands before slowly drifting up to meet yours.
The space between you on the cushions felt both incredibly small and miles wide.
"They turned out really well," Jungwon murmured, his voice incredibly low in the quiet apartment, breaking the silence. "The cookies, I mean."
He offered a small, tentative smile, but his eyes held that same intense, searching look from earlier—the look of someone who had waited two years for this exact moment and was trying desperately not to rush it.
"yeah.. Sera is serious when it comes to perfecting something" you reply
Jungwon let out a soft, breathy laugh, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I can tell. She hasn't changed at all."
His laugh quietly died down, leaving the gentle hum of the apartment to settle between you again. He shifted slightly on the couch, turning his body to face you. He rested his arm along the back of the sofa, not quite touching you, but bridging the distance just enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.
"And you?" he asked quietly, his dark eyes locking onto yours, steady and unblinking in the dim light. "Have you been trying to perfect anything these past two years?"
The question felt loaded, hanging in the warm space between you. He wasn't just asking about your classes or hobbies. His gaze was heavy, searching your face for any sign of the girl he had left behind, and trying to read the guarded walls you had put up tonight.
"not really, I think i grasped topics really well, what about you?"
"I survived," Jungwon said, a quiet, self-deprecating smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "But honestly? I think I spent the last two years just trying to keep my head above water."
He looked down at his hand resting on the back of the couch, his fingers tracing a invisible pattern on the fabric. The dim light of the lamp caught the sharp angle of his jaw, making him look incredibly tired but strikingly handsome.
"I kept telling myself that if I just worked hard enough, if I got the promotion and finished the degree, everything would make sense," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intimate frequency.
He slowly lifted his head, his dark eyes locking back onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.
"But the truth is, no matter how much I grasped or how busy I got... there was always this quiet space in my head. And nothing I did could quite fill it."
He paused, the silence stretching between you, thick with two years of unsaid things. He didn't move closer, keeping the distance slow and agonizingly deliberate, but his gaze felt like a physical touch.
"I think I was just waiting to come back here," he whispered.
"do you want something to drink? the cookies made me thirsty" you ask
"Yeah," Jungwon said softly, the heavy intensity in his eyes instantly shifting into a warm, gentle gaze. "Something to drink sounds perfect."
He started to push himself up from the couch, but he paused, looking down at you as if waiting to see if you'd let him help.
"I can get it," he offered, his voice low and incredibly quiet in the silent room. "Just sit. What do you want? Water, or is there some of that juice Jay brought left?"
You scrambled up from the couch so fast you nearly tripped over your own feet, slipping past him before he could even fully stand.
"No, no, I can get it!" you insisted, your voice a little too high, a little too hurried.
You practically bolted the few steps into the kitchen, desperately needing the physical distance to let your racing heart catch up with you. The cool linoleum floor beneath your socks felt grounding, a sharp contrast to the suffocatingly warm, heavy air of the living room. You opened the fridge, letting the cool, bright light wash over your face as you pretended to deeply analyze the beverage selection.
Behind you, still sitting on the edge of the couch, Jungwon let out a quiet, breathless laugh.
He watched your hasty retreat, shaking his head slightly as he settled back against the cushions. The panicked rush of your voice, the way you darted away the moment things got a little too quiet—it was so entirely you. After two years of dealing with stiff corporate colleagues and calculated academic peers, your genuine, flustered reactions were the most refreshing thing he had experienced in a long time.
He rested his chin in his hand, a warm, soft smile tugging at his lips as he stared at the kitchen doorway, waiting for you to come back.
You stared up at the top shelf of the cabinet, your heart sinking. Of course. The drinking glasses were pushed all the way to the back, completely out of your reach.
"Fuck," you mumbled under your breath, standing on your tiptoes and stretching your arm as far as it would go. Your fingertips barely brushed the smooth glass.
"Need some help?"
The quiet, deep voice sounded right behind you, making you jump.
Before you could turn around, a warm presence closed the distance. Jungwon stepped up right behind you, his chest almost brushing against your back. The faint, clean scent of his cologne wrapped around you instantly.
He reached up, his long arm extending easily over your shoulder. His black sleeve brushed against your hair as his hand effortlessly grasped two of the glasses from the very back of the shelf. He was so close you could feel the steady warmth radiating from him, trapping you gently between his body and the kitchen counter.
He didn't pull back immediately. Instead, he held the glasses just above your shoulder, tilting his head down slightly so his breath fanned the side of your neck.
"You know, you could have just asked," he murmured, a quiet, amused smile in his voice.
Your breath hitched, the soft sound catching in your throat as the realization of his closeness fully registered. The space between you had completely evaporated.
Jungwon didn't move a muscle to retreat. Slowly, deliberately, he set the two glasses down on the counter next to you with a quiet, solid clink.
But instead of stepping back, he shifted.
He placed one hand flat on the counter right beside your hip, and the other on the edge of the cabinet door just above your shoulder, effectively boxing you in. The movement was incredibly fluid, trapping you completely between the solid line of his body and the cold edge of the kitchen counter.
"Yeah?" he echoed, his voice dropping to a low, husky murmur.
The heat radiating from his chest felt overwhelming in the quiet, dim kitchen. Up close, you could see the dark intensity in his eyes, the way his pupils dilated as he looked down at you, refusing to let you run away this time. His chest rose and fell with a slow, heavy breath, brushing just a hair's breadth against yours.
He was close enough that if you tilted your head just a fraction, your lips would touch.
"You always run away when things get quiet, Byeol," he whispered, his eyes dropping to your lips for a agonizingly slow second before locking back onto yours. "You did it two years ago, and you're doing it now. Why?"
"I-I uh.. I'm just shy" you say, truth was, you liked him all those years, you could never be normal around him from the way your heart would rapidly beat.
Your voice was barely a whisper, the confession trembling in the small, warm space between you. You looked down, unable to meet the sheer intensity of his gaze when your heart was practically hammering against your ribs, loud enough that you were terrified he could hear it.
Shy. It was the safest word you could find to cover up the massive, terrifying truth: that you had liked him for two whole years, and that even now, your body couldn't seem to function normally whenever he was anywhere near you.
Jungwon didn't pull away. If anything, your soft admission made him soften completely.
He let out a low, breathy sigh, the tension in his shoulders finally giving way. The hand resting on the counter beside your hip slid just an inch closer, his fingers lightly brushing against the fabric of your shirt.
"Shy," he repeated, his voice incredibly gentle, almost fond.
He tilted his head slightly, trying to catch your downward gaze, refusing to let you hide from him. When you finally glanced up, his dark eyes were swimming with an emotion so deep it made your knees weak.
"You make my heart beat like crazy, too, Byeol," he whispered, his eyes dropping to your lips before slowly rising back to yours. "If you're shy... then we can take it as slow as you want. But please, don't run away from me."
In a sheer, desperate state of panic—needing to silence the deafening roar of your own heartbeat and the overwhelming weight of his confession—you leaned up on your tiptoes.
You pressed your lips to his.
The moment your lips met, Jungwon froze completely. The sudden, tentative contact of your mouth against his caught him entirely off guard, his body locking up beneath your hands.
Panicking even more at his lack of reaction, you immediately pulled away, your face burning. You mentally cursed at yourself, screaming internally at how stupid you were to have just done that. What did you just do? Why did you—
Before you could even open your mouth to stammer out a frantic apology, Jungwon’s hand shot up from the counter.
His fingers slid into your hair, gripping the back of your head, while his other hand locked firmly around your waist. With a sudden, desperate surge of movement, he pulled you flush against his chest and leaned down, kissing you even harder.
This time, there was no hesitation. The kiss was deep, breathless, and filled with the pent-up longing of two long years. He parted your lips with a soft, demanding sigh, his body pressing you firmly back against the counter as if he were trying to make up for every single second he had spent away from you.
The kiss deepened, the desperate rush of it melting into a heavy, intoxicating heat that made your knees buckle.
Jungwon felt the shift instantly. He slid his hand from the back of your neck down to your lower back, his arm wrapping around you like a vice to lift you slightly, pressing you even tighter against the edge of the counter. His other hand anchored itself on your hip, his thumb digging into your skin through the fabric of your shirt, grounding you both in the sudden, overwhelming friction of your bodies.
A soft, quiet whimper escaped your throat, and Jungwon drank the sound in, a low growl rummaging deep in his chest. His tongue slid past your lips, slow and possessive, tasting like the sweet chocolate from earlier and the warm, clean heat of him. He tilted his head to angle the kiss deeper, his mouth moving against yours with a bruising, desperate hunger that made your head spin.
You reached out blindly, your hands tangling into the soft knit of his black sweater, pulling him closer as if there weren't already a complete lack of space between you.
He shifted his weight, crowding his thigh between yours. The sudden, hard press of his leg against your center made your breath hitch sharply. He paused against your mouth, a shudder running through his entire frame, his chest rising and falling in ragged, uneven pants.
"Byeol," he breathed against your lips, his voice raw, dark, and completely stripped of his usual composure.
He dragged his mouth away from yours, but only to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive line of your jaw, his teeth lightly grazing your skin until he reached the hollow of your throat. He sucked gently, his hand on your hip sliding underneath the hem of your shirt, his warm, bare palm making direct contact with your bare skin.
His fingers were slightly calloused, sending a shiver straight down your spine as they traced the curve of your waist.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured, his breath hot against your collarbone, his fingers flexing against your hip. "Because if you don't... I'm not going to be able to."
you look at him, still shy "I trust you, jungwon"
Those four words hung in the warm, heavy air between you, shattering whatever quiet restraint Jungwon had left.
He let out a shaky, ragged breath against your collarbone, his forehead resting against your shoulder for a split second as if trying to anchor himself. When he looked up, his dark eyes were incredibly intense, filled with a mixture of disbelief, deep affection, and a hunger that made your chest tighten.
"You have no idea what saying that does to me," he whispered, his voice thick and strained.
With a sudden, effortless movement, his hands gripped your hips securely and lifted you, seating you firmly on the edge of the kitchen counter. The change in height put you eye-to-eye, your legs naturally parting to accommodate him as he stepped even closer, burying himself in your space.
His bare palm slid further up under your shirt, his warm fingers splaying against your ribs. The heat of his hand against your skin made you shiver, but his gaze held you entirely captive. He leaned in, his lips brushing yours with agonizing slowness before he kissed you again—not bruising this time, but deep, slow, and devastatingly sweet, sealing his unspoken promise to cherish every bit of the trust you were giving him.
"I've got you," he murmured against your mouth, his thumb stroking your skin in slow, dizzying circles. "I promise."
The quiet of the kitchen dissolved, replaced by the hushed, shadowed privacy of his bedroom.
The door clicked shut behind you, sealing out the rest of the world. In the dim, filtered light of the window, Jungwon didn't waste a single second. He backed you up until the edge of the mattress hit the back of your knees, his hands already sliding up from your waist to the hem of your shirt.
With a low, quiet breath, he pulled the fabric over your head, his eyes darkening as they swept over your bare skin in the shadows.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick and rough.
He pressed you down onto the cool sheets, his heavy body immediately following you, settling between your thighs. The sudden warmth of his bare chest against yours made you gasp, the friction of skin on skin sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. Jungwon caught the sound with his mouth, kissing you deeply, his tongue tracing yours in a slow, rhythm that mimicked the heavy ache pooling between your hips.
He slid one hand down your side, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts and slowly, deliberately pulling them down, his knuckles brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You arched into his touch with a soft, needy whimper, your hands tangling into his hair, pulling him down harder against you.
Jungwon let out a ragged groan against your lips, his hips shifting to press his hard length firmly against your center through his pants. The friction was agonizingly perfect. He hovered over you, his chest heaving, his dark eyes locked onto yours as his fingers slid higher, finding the damp heat waiting for him.
"Jungwon..." you breathed, your head rolling back against the pillow.
"Right here," he murmured, his breath hot and uneven against your neck as his fingers slowly slid inside, making you gasp and tighten around him. "I'm right here."
He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was slow, deep, and filled with a gentle warmth. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he lay back, bringing you down with him onto the soft mattress.
The heat of his body beneath you felt grounded and safe. Jungwon’s hands slid under the hem of your shirt, his bare palms resting warm against your waist, sending a soft shiver through you. He angled his head, deepening the kiss, his breath hot against your lips as his touch grew more possessive, tracing the curve of your hips.
Every touch felt deliberate, a silent promise of how much he had missed you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, losing yourself in the steady, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest as the rest of the world completely faded away.
"is now a good time to tell you i've liked you ever since you paid for my bike?" you tell him as he collapses next to you
Jungwon stiffened, his entire body freezing for a second against the mattress. He slowly lifted his head from your shoulder, his dark eyes wide with a mix of utter shock and sudden realization in the dim light.
"The bike?" he repeated, his voice dropping into an incredulous whisper.
He stared at you, a soft, breathless laugh escaping his lips as the memory clicked. A hand came up to rub his face, his shoulders shaking with quiet amusement.
"Byeol, that was literally two years ago," he murmured, his gaze softening completely as he leaned over you, resting his weight on one elbow. He reached out, his thumb gently tracing your lower lip. "You carried that around for two years? And you chose now to tell me?"
He shook his head, a warm, bright smile lighting up his face. He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, his hand sliding up to cradle your jaw.
"If I knew that was all it took to get you to like me," he whispered against your mouth, "I would have bought you ten more."
"when did you like me?"
Jungwon’s smile softened, his gaze turning incredibly tender as he looked down at you. He let out a quiet, breathless laugh, shaking his head at the irony of it all.
"The exact same day," he whispered, his voice warm and intimate in the quiet room.
He leaned down a bit closer, his thumb gently brushing your cheekbone.
"You really think I just randomly decided to be a good Samaritan and pay for your bike?" he asked, a faint, amused smirk playing on his lips. "I saw you standing there, looking so stressed out and flustered as you searched your pockets, trying so hard not to cry. The second you turned around and looked up at me with those wide, panicked eyes... it was over. I didn't even know your name yet, but my heart did this ridiculous, violent flip."
He rested his forehead against yours, his hands sliding up to gently cradle your face.
"I paid for it because I was completely desperate for an excuse to talk to you," he confessed softly. "I fell for you the very second I saw you, Byeol. It was love at first sight for me. You just took two years to find out."
you hug him around his abs, tracing circles around his skin "I guess we both fell for each other" you smile
Your arms slid around his waist, your hands resting against the warm, firm line of his abs as your fingers began to trace slow, lazy circles against his skin.
Jungwon let out a soft, contented hum at your touch, his muscles relaxing completely under your hands. He wrapped his arms securely around your shoulders, pulling you up so you were tucked perfectly against his side, your head resting over his beating heart.
"Yeah," he murmured, his voice rumbling softly against your cheek. "I guess we did."
He looked down at you, his eyes curving into a warm, beautiful crescent smile that made him look younger, entirely stripped of the guard he usually kept up around everyone else. He leaned down to press a soft, lingering kiss to the crown of your head, his hand gently stroking your hair.
"two years of being completely clueless about each other," he whispered, a quiet laugh vibrating in his chest. "We really wasted a lot of time, didn't we? But I'm glad we're finally here."
"That's the thing about love isn't it? the feeling is scary because we don't always know if it'd end happily"
Jungwon’s hand stilled in your hair. He went quiet for a moment, the only sound in the room being the steady, calm rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. He tightened his arms around you, pulling you just a little bit closer against his chest.
"It is scary," he agreed softly, his chin resting against the top of your head. "I was terrified the entire time I was away. Terrified that I'd come back and you'd have moved on, or that I'd missed my chance with you forever."
He shifted slightly, nudging your chin up with his knuckles so you had to look at him. In the shadows, his eyes were incredibly earnest and steady.
"But being here with you right now? I'd rather take the risk of a messy, unpredictable ending with you than have a perfectly safe, easy life with anyone else," he murmured, his thumb gently wiping across your cheek. "We don't know what's going to happen, but we're together now. I'm not letting you go."
end
wowowowowo if you guys enjoyed it please make sure to like and comment! I'm open to requests, feedback is much appreciated!
@flowermoonmay @kristynaaah
Break time 【 Metalocalypse 】
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
After @missnatzooie 's redraw of Ragatha's lil pout in Ep 2 from @skellyjingles 's post, I had to draw something with it. Since Pomni missed getting to see her like this, I decided to let her admire how cute she is when she's angy.
(Edit: YAY, I can finally tag Nat directly now!)
@lovelylivelyv @deathfangirl9 @royaledevil @bluequeerio @nightsoulvixen @chocohedgie @cobbled-catastrophe @mine0560 @tapwaterx
Tempted to touch! Men of One piece x Fm! Reader (Multi Character fic)
Pairings: Ace x Reader, Shanks x Reader, Mihawk x Reader, Crocodile x Reader, Smoker x Reader
Synopsis: Can someone write like a lil thing for Ace, Shanks, Mihawk, Crocodile and/or Smoker or any One Piece character (secretly) seeing their S/O being able to whine (dance) and having crazy waist control (being able to bounce their ass without movin anything else)? 🧍🏻♀️
A little something for @mororona who gave me the prompt.
Use this song: Tempted to Touch by Rupee
I'ma also tag @fanaticsnail I know you're sick rn, and I hope this helps, I added ben for you! Plus you love dancing and this music.
As a caribbean latina, I couldn't resist.
On with the show!!~
______________________________________________________________
Ace
The ship's corridors echoed with the distant sound of music, drawing Ace's attention as he passed by [Name]'s room. His curiosity piqued, he couldn't resist the urge to investigate. Quietly, he approached the door and peeked through a crack. What he saw took his breath away.
[Name] stood before the mirror, bathed in the soft glow of the room's ambient light. They wore a simple tank top that hugged their curves and shorts that accentuated their toned legs. The music pulsed in the air, setting the rhythm for their movements. With each beat, their hips swayed with an otherworldly grace, their waist seemingly moving independently of the rest of their body.
Ace's jaw dropped at the sight. He had never seen [Name] like this before—so carefree, so alive. His heart skipped a beat as he leaned against the doorframe, unable to tear his gaze away. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, a mixture of amusement and admiration swirling in his chest.
"Damn," he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the music. He crossed his arms, feeling a rush of warmth spreading through him. "I never knew you had those kinds of moves," he thought, his mind buzzing with excitement. He watched in silence, savoring the intimate moment.
As the music faded into the night, Ace lingered a moment longer, committing the image of [Name]'s dance to memory. With a soft chuckle, he straightened up and continued on his way, a newfound appreciation blossoming in his heart.
Shanks
The Red Force sailed smoothly through calm waters, the gentle lull of the ocean providing a rare moment of tranquility. Shanks, ever drawn to the call of adventure, found himself wandering the deck in search of excitement.
As he strolled along, the distant strains of lively music reached his ears, beckoning him like a siren's song. Curiosity piqued, he followed the melodic trail until he came upon a secluded corner of the ship. There, hidden from prying eyes, he discovered [Name].
[Name] stood in the embrace of the sea breeze, their form swathed in a loose-fitting sarong that billowed around them with each movement. The soft fabric accentuated their every sway, casting shadows that danced across their skin like fleeting whispers.
Shanks, ever the playful observer, couldn't help but grin as he watched from behind a nearby barrel. His eyes widened in awe as he beheld [Name]'s dance, their waist moving with a fluidity that seemed to defy the laws of nature. Each motion was a symphony of grace and control, weaving a tapestry of enchantment that ensnared his senses.
"Well, well," he murmured to himself, his voice lost amidst the music's intoxicating melody. His heart quickened with a rush of excitement as he continued to watch, his admiration mingling with a newfound sense of desire.
As the last notes faded into the night, Shanks remained rooted to the spot, reluctant to break the spell that had enveloped him. With a soft chuckle, he finally emerged from his hiding place, his grin widening with each step.
"Someone's been hiding some talent," he remarked, his voice laced with playful teasing. He approached [Name] with a glint of mischief in his eyes, ready to share in the dance they had unwittingly revealed.
Mihawk
The courtyard of Mihawk's imposing castle was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, the air heavy with a sense of quietude that seemed to envelop the world in its embrace. Mihawk, ever the solitary figure, made his way through the shadowed corridors, his footsteps echoing faintly against the stone walls.
As he passed by a window, a flicker of movement caught his attention, drawing his gaze. Through the glass, he beheld [Name], bathed in the ethereal light of the setting sun. They wore a fitted top that hugged their curves and leggings that accentuated the elegant lines of their form.
The distant strains of music reached Mihawk's ears, a delicate melody that seemed to dance upon the evening breeze. And dance they did—[Name], with a grace that transcended mortal bounds, moved with a fluidity that spoke of hidden depths and untold mysteries. Each movement was a testament to their skill, their waist control impeccable, their every motion precise and mesmerizing.
Mihawk stood in the shadows, an enigmatic figure shrouded in darkness, his keen eyes fixated on [Name] as if they were the only star in a vast, empty sky. A rare smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a whisper of admiration that lingered like a wisp of smoke in the still air.
"Remarkable," he whispered to himself, his voice barely more than a breath against the canvas of the night. In that moment, amidst the quietude of his solitary vigil, Mihawk found himself captivated by the hidden depths of [Name]'s abilities, drawn to the allure of their silent dance like a moth to flame.
In the courtyard below, [Name]'s movements flowed seamlessly, each gesture a tantalizing blend of strength and elegance. The fading light cast long shadows that danced along with them, creating an almost otherworldly spectacle. As they twirled and spun, their eyes briefly met Mihawk's through the window, a spark of recognition passing between them.
For an instant, time seemed to stand still. The world outside the castle walls faded into insignificance, leaving only the unspoken connection between the two. Mihawk felt a stirring within him, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation. It was as if [Name]'s dance had unlocked something deep within his stoic exterior, a flicker of warmth in the cold recesses of his heart.
[Name] continued their dance, unaware of the profound effect they had on the man observing them. Their movements grew bolder, more daring, as if sensing the intensity of Mihawk's gaze. The music swelled, and with it, the emotions that had been carefully kept at bay.
As the last notes of the melody faded into the night, [Name] came to a graceful stop, their chest rising and falling with the exertion. Mihawk remained in the shadows, his expression contemplative. He knew that this moment, this dance, had changed something within him.
Stepping away from the window, Mihawk made his way back through the corridors, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The quietude of his castle had been shattered, replaced by a new and intriguing possibility. The allure of [Name]'s silent dance had left an indelible mark on his soul, a mystery he was now determined to unravel.
Sir Crocodile
The echoes of Crocodile's footsteps reverberated through the empty corridors of his stronghold, the weight of his recent meeting still heavy upon his mind. As he neared his quarters, a faint sound reached his ears—a melody so delicate, it seemed to hang in the air like a whispered secret.
Intrigued, Crocodile followed the sound, his curiosity piqued by the mysterious allure of the music. It led him to one of the spacious rooms, where he found [Name] dancing in the soft glow of candlelight. They were clad in a stylish ensemble that hugged their figure in all the right places, accentuating the graceful arc of their movements.
Silent as a specter, Crocodile lingered in the doorway, his keen eyes fixed upon [Name] with a gaze as sharp as the blade of a scimitar. He watched as they moved with a fluidity that seemed to defy reason, their waist swaying with a skill that mesmerized him. Each movement was a testament to their prowess, a silent symphony of elegance and finesse.
A predatory smile curved his lips, a silent invitation lingering in the depths of his gaze. "Remarkable," he whispered to himself, his voice a husky murmur against the canvas of the night, a flicker of amusement dancing in the depths of his steely eyes.
[Name] spun gracefully, the light playing off their form in a tantalizing display, each motion drawing him in further. The candlelight caressed their skin, creating a shimmering halo that only added to their allure. Crocodile's eyes followed every move, every sway, as if committing them to memory.
With a silent nod of approval, Crocodile made a mental note to compliment [Name] later, in his own subtle way. But for now, he remained rooted in the shadows, content to bask in the intoxicating beauty of their silent performance. There was a predatory grace in the way he observed, a sense of possession mingled with admiration.
As the music reached its crescendo, [Name] executed a final, breathtaking spin, coming to a poised stop. For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of their breathing, the air thick with the lingering echo of their dance.
Crocodile stepped forward, his presence finally known. The movement was deliberate, almost languid, like a predator approaching its prey. "You dance beautifully," he said, his voice low and smooth, carrying a hint of the power and danger he wielded so effortlessly.
[Name] turned, their eyes meeting his, a spark of something electric passing between them. The dance had ended, but the night had only just begun.
Smoker
The ship creaked and groaned as Smoker made his rounds, the steady rhythm of his footsteps echoing through the corridors. His ever-watchful gaze swept over the decks, his stern expression softened only by the glow of his cigar.
As he passed a door slightly ajar, a faint melody drifted out into the hallway, luring him like a siren's call. Intrigued, Smoker pushed the door open a fraction and peeked inside. What he saw took him by surprise.
[Name] stood in the center of the room, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, clad in comfortable workout clothes that hugged their form in all the right places. The music pulsed in the air, setting the rhythm for their movements. With each beat, their hips swayed with an otherworldly grace, their waist moving with a precision that defied logic.
Smoker's eyes widened in astonishment as he watched, his cigar dangling forgotten between his fingers. He took a long drag, the smoke swirling around him like a wisp of shadow. Despite himself, a look of admiration crept into his stern features, softening the hard lines of his face.
"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered to himself, his voice barely more than a whisper against the backdrop of the music. In that moment, he found himself captivated by the mesmerizing rhythm of [Name]'s dance, drawn to the raw power and grace that radiated from their every movement.
The way [Name] moved was a tantalizing blend of strength and elegance, each motion more hypnotic than the last. Smoker's heartbeat quickened as he continued to watch, his breath catching in his throat. He had never seen anything quite like this, and the sight stirred something deep within him, a mix of admiration and an unfamiliar, burning desire.
With a silent nod of approval, Smoker decided to let them have their private moment, content to linger in the shadows and watch from afar. But deep down, he couldn't wait to see the look of surprise on [Name]'s face when he casually mentioned it later, a secret shared between them like a hidden treasure waiting to be discovered.
As the music swelled and [Name] executed a particularly daring move, Smoker felt a smirk tug at the corners of his lips. He could already imagine the playful banter they would exchange, the way their eyes would light up with that spark of recognition. For now, though, he remained in the shadows, savoring the intoxicating beauty of the dance.
Benn Beckman
On a different vessel, Benn Beckman strolled through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Force, the hum of conversation and laughter from the crew fading as he ventured deeper into the ship. A faint, alluring melody reached his ears, drawing him toward one of the private rooms. Curiosity piqued, he approached quietly, the sound of music growing clearer with each step. Balancing a tray with a steaming bowl of soup, he pushed open the door slightly.
Gently pushing the door open, Beckman found himself captivated by the sight before him. [Name] was in the center of the room, their form illuminated by the soft, flickering glow of candles. Clad in cute pajamas that accentuated their every curve, they moved with an elegance that left him momentarily breathless. The rhythm of the music guided their motions, their hips swaying with a hypnotic grace that seemed almost unreal.
Beckman leaned against the doorframe, his usually calm and composed demeanor giving way to an appreciative smile. He crossed his arms, his gaze never leaving [Name] as they danced. The fluidity and precision of their movements spoke volumes about their skill, each motion a silent testament to their mastery.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he remembered something important—[Name] was supposed to be resting in bed, recovering from an illness. A mix of amusement and concern flickered across his face as he watched them, clearly defying orders.
"Adorable," he murmured, the word a low rumble in the stillness of the room. His eyes followed [Name]'s every move, a mixture of admiration and intrigue shining in his gaze.
As [Name] continued to dance, unaware of their audience, Beckman found himself drawn in more and more. The way they moved was enchanting, each step a perfect blend of strength and grace. The soft light played off their form, creating an almost ethereal aura that only heightened the allure.
When the music finally came to an end, Beckman stepped forward, his presence no longer concealed. "You dance beautifully," he said, his voice smooth and warm. "But you were supposed to be resting, weren't you?"
[Name] turned, surprise evident in their eyes as they met his gaze. Beckman’s smile widened, a hint of playful mischief in his expression. "Maybe you can teach me a move or two sometime," he added, the suggestion laced with a subtle challenge.
For now, though, he was content to let them savor their private moment, the memory of their mesmerizing dance a new secret they shared.
______________________________________________________________
I wanna add more characters later, Lemme know what characters you want! DM's are always open.
To be posted on the ao3 account soon.
Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a fic for almost everyone here in the master list. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.
I promise I bite~
Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33