#in my mind and in the context of this it was like. A crush that was never verbalized bc Prismo didnt want to put that pressure on him

[mudkip-enthusiast18]

harry who meets tfem draco in a little bookshop she works at in muggle london while looking for a bday gift for hermione like 10 years after school, not recognizing her in the least not having known she’d transitioned and also being the absolute most oblivious person on the planet. he thinks she’s the absolute most beautiful woman he’s ever met, starts flirting with her, draco is SO confused because why in the hell is harry fucking potter flirting with her after everything that’s happened between the two of them, but hey, she’s had a crush on him since they were 11 (though it was deeply suppressed at the time), so fuck it, why not, sure let’s go out for coffee tomorrow, thank you

the next day, as they’re sitting down for coffee, harry goes “I’m so sorry, I got so caught up in asking you out yesterday I didn’t even ask your name!!” draco, thinking he’s referring to not having asked for her name now that she’s transitioned, goes “oh, I still use my old name, I just now also use the nickname drae” and now harry’s the one who’s kinda confused, as that’s not a very usual answer to asking someone’s name, what’s the context to that,,,,,? and the conversation goes on for a bit with both of them being a little confused, missing each other with all their answers, before draco thinks “wait,,,,,,,,, does he not know who I am??????????????”

draco then stops the conversation to ask, just to be absolutely sure even though she thinks it’s kind of ridiculous that he wouldn’t recognize her, at least in her mind, “I mean I haven’t changed THAT much” much to her surprise, he had zero clue 💀 draco is now panicking, cause “oh my merlin he thought I was a nice girl he met in a random bookshop and now that he knows who I am he’s going to want to leave and ofc he will he hates me I’ve done him so wrong on so many occasions this was way too good to be true etc etc etc”, so she gets up to leave before it gets too awkward, so harry, all confused, asks her where she’s going? “I’m going home, I mean surely you don’t want to be on a date with me knowing who I am” so harry takes her hand, asks her to stay, see where this takes them <3

and they fall in love and live happily ever after

[blufblucake]

SEEKER TRINE HEADCANONS

⋆˙⟡ Just a few silly little things I think about the seekers. I could talk about these three all day, I still have a few more things in mind.

WARNINGS: I don't think there's anything particularly sensitive or mature here, but I do mention mental health topics like anxiety, insecurity, and trauma.

WORD COUNT: 1,9k

STARSCREAM

✦ Starscream has FOMO. He simply cannot stand the idea of being left out of anything. So even if he's utterly exhausted, he’ll push himself to experience and do things — especially if other high-ranking Decepticons like Soundwave or Shockwave are involved.

✦ Which brings us to the second point: he's deeply insecure. He would never admit it and hides behind a facade of superiority. But deep down, he’s just an anxious sparkling. If he walks into a room and hears a group of Decepticons laughing about something, he’ll immediately assume they’re mocking him. This causes a lot of conflict, especially with his trine, because Starscream doesn’t know how to communicate and instantly jumps into defensive aggression.

✦ Absolutely praise starved. Compliment him, celebrate his achievements, acknowledge his rare good intentions, for Primus’ sake, validate this mech. And not just in a romantic context. He’ll probably act nonchalant, but deep inside he’s kicking his legs and giggling like a schoolgirl.

✦ We all know how intelligent he truly is, and that comes from his curiosity and hunger for knowledge. Despite constantly saying things like “humans are primitive and pathetic creatures,” he spends hours reading and studying human history. He devours files on the Ottoman Empire, the Qing dynasty, pre-Columbian civilizations, the Haitian Revolution… What captivates him most are the behavior patterns, political consequences, and repeating details. He’s arrogant, conceited, and absolutely thinks he’s the last cube of energon on Cybertron, but he knows knowledge is power. And he would never let a weapon like that go unused. Still, if anyone tries to ask or peek at what he’s reading on his datapad, he instantly closes all tabs like he just got caught watching intergalactic porn.

✦ He loves being challenged and proving he’s the best at something. Want him to do something, but know he’s an arrogant bastard? Just say he couldn’t possibly do it, or act like it’s the hardest thing in the universe. He’ll instantly lift his aft from the chair just to show off how great he is.

✦ Going back to points one and two, Starscream is incredibly sensitive to rejection, especially when it comes from his trine. One cold gesture from Thundercracker or a snappy reply from Skywarp is enough to crush him inside (even if he keeps acting like nothing happened).

✦ In a romantic context, he knows he’s attractive and desirable, and he absolutely flirts without any real intention — just to keep potential admirers around. But the moment someone rejects his advances, he spirals. “Why did that little thing reject my flirting?” “Who do they think they are?” “I’ll make sure they fall for me, just wait.” And that person becomes his latest obsession, at least for the next few weeks.

✦ He definitely talks during recharge. And it’s creepy as fuck. Skywarp has multiple recordings of him insulting Megatron and ranting about how he’d be a much better leader for the Decepticons.

✦ In another life, he would have made an excellent teacher. Despite his arrogant tone, he has a true passion for teaching and is surprisingly patient with younger bots. When he starts explaining something, he gets excited, smiling brightly with shining optics. He loves teaching anything from physics to flight maneuvers, but because of the war, we’ll never truly know how brilliant he could have been.

✦ He’s afraid of attachment, because the war has taken so much from him — family, friends, lovers. He knows that with the history of betrayals and death, if he truly loves someone (in any sense), it could turn into just another weakness. And he already has so many.

THUNDERCRACKER

✦ Thundercracker constantly struggles with imposter syndrome. He’s brilliant and capable of extraordinary things, but there’s a persistent voice in his processor that keeps diminishing his achievements, yelling that he’s a fraud and that any success is just dumb luck. His trine tries to help, but sometimes it’s really hard.

✦ Even though he can’t consume it, and honestly doesn’t even want to, he absolutely loves the smell of coffee. Especially freshly brewed, which he considers far superior to machine-made. He even befriended a barista using his holomatter avatar just to sit quietly at the counter and enjoy the aroma.

✦ He tends to feel invisible sometimes. He’s the most emotionally stable one in the group (if we can even call it that), and his feelings are less “loud,” so he ends up thinking no one truly cares about what he feels. But Starscream and Skywarp do care, they just don’t know how to show it.

✦ He loves flying alone at night. That’s when he can think clearly, away from the chaos of the base. It’s also when he comes up with ideas for his stories and scribbles notes into his flight logs… but deletes them before anyone can see.

✦ He harbors deep resentment toward Megatron. Thundercracker is a Decepticon, but he has his own principles. He joined the cause for a reason, and once he realized how far things strayed from the original purpose, he was deeply disappointed. Beyond that, he will never forgive Megatron for what he did to Starscream. He saw it all up close, spent sleepless nights tending to and comforting the other seeker, and he knows exactly how those experiences shaped one of the brightest yet most broken beings he’s ever known.

✦ He is fiercely loyal, especially to those he loves. And the minute something threatens them, he becomes brutally feral in order to protect them.

✦ He has the patience of a saint and can tolerate a lot, but when he finally snaps, it’s genuinely terrifying. Thundercracker never raises his voice, so when he does, it means the line was crossed long ago.

✦ Throughout all the systems and galaxies they’ve passed through, he’s always loved watching the skies. The stars, the suns, the constellations. It gives him a sense of belonging and calm. On Earth, Thundercracker can identify every constellation, cloud type, and weather pattern. He secretly keeps records of every kind of sunset he’s seen.

✦ He’s thought about deserting more than once, but right now, the only thing keeping him there is his trine. Whenever he gets too quiet, Skywarp knows what he’s thinking and casually says, “We wouldn’t even know how to live without you, TC.” And that alone is enough to make him stay.

✦ He’s the unofficial–yet very much official–counselor of the trine, even though he rarely follows his own advice and his emotions or personal life are usually a mess.

✦ Thundercracker loves reading and consuming other forms of human romantic media. His favorite author is Jane Austen, and he’s read all her works. Pride and Prejudice is his favorite, and he enjoys everything from the classic version to modern adaptations like Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. He also loves reading other romance authors and has a particular fondness for women writers. From more recent books, his guilty pleasure is The Love Hypothesis, and though he would never admit it, he fell hard for Dr. Adam Carlsen.

SKYWARP

✦ Skywarp is smart as fuck, like, genuinely brilliant. But he deliberately pretends to be dumb or clueless just so people won’t ask him to do things. It doesn’t work on his trine, though — they know exactly who he is.

✦ Which brings us to the second point: he constantly uses weaponized incompetence. He’s perfectly capable of doing tasks flawlessly but will intentionally pretend not to know how, or do a terrible job out of sheer laziness. He doesn’t care if that ends up overloading the others, he just doesn’t want the work. Again, this doesn’t fly with his trine. The first time he tried it with Starscream, the seeker made his life miserable for an entire month.

✦ He’s absolutely impulsive and gives in to intrusive thoughts way too easily. He doesn’t think twice before acting, especially if he believes he’s right, and that’s gotten him into a lot of trouble. One time, he grabbed Rumble and shoved his head into his mouth. Just because. He won’t admit it, but he actually likes the cassette — they have a total frenemies dynamic.

✦ The moment he first heard rock ‘n’ roll, he fell in love. His favorite band is AC/DC, and every time Back In Black plays, he pretends he’s the one playing the guitar solos.

✦ Skywarp also loves reading, but unlike the others, he leans toward science. As mentioned before, he’s brilliant, and his strongest area of knowledge is species biology. Every time they visit a new planet, he makes a point of learning about the native life forms. Not because he actually cares about them, just pure curiosity.

✦ He’s a total party monster, especially in his pre-war days. He was the kind to stay up for days partying and still show up to his duties like nothing happened, without a single cycle of recharge.

✦ He’s a contemporary poet. He’s capable of saying the most beautiful and profound things — then ruins it all with a dirty comment and a sly smirk, as if it meant nothing.

✦ He became addicted to reality TV after discovering The Real Housewives, and his favorite is The Real Housewives of Atlanta.

✦ Surprisingly, he’s an artist. Skywarp draws and paints extremely well. When he’s bored, he’ll sit across from someone on the Nemesis and start sketching. He’s made detailed portraits of Megatron, Shockwave, Soundwave and the cassettes, Starscream with a cape and crown, Thundercracker smiling under a sunset. But he keeps it all to himself.

✦ He has anxiety, and his trine helps calm him down when things get overwhelming. There have been times when he teleported randomly because the anxiety got too intense.

✦ He’s extremely touch-starved. He loves hugging and being hugged, doesn’t mind public displays of affection, kisses his friends on the cheek just to annoy them, and always has at least one servo touching someone he’s close to — whether it’s a servo on the shoulder or a gentle head-pat.

DYNAMICS BETWEEN THE THREE

✦ If they’re sharing the same space, they naturally align during recharge. It’s an automatic habit: their frames fall into flight formation. Intuitive. Unconscious. Deeply comforting.

✦ If they don’t do that, they’ll likely recharge in a pile. One on top of the other, simply because it feels comfortable and safe. It brings a sense of home and belonging.

✦ They fight a lot. A whole lot. And usually over the dumbest things, like a datapad out of place or someone using the other’s polish cloth. But it’s only between them. The moment someone else tries to interfere, they immediately become defensive and close ranks.

✦ They love provoking each other just to get a reaction. Two of them might be peacefully working in a room, and the third shows up, turns off the lights, leaves the door wide open, and walks away. No reason. Just because.

✦ They have shared memory logs. Small clips of flights, laughter, training, defeats, victories, rants about other Decepticons. They store these fragments in a secret memory core, accessible only by the three of them. It’s an unspoken collective diary, a sort of scrapbook.

✦ They would do literally anything to save one another. Lie, fight, kill, die, and live. Loyalty between seekers is everything, and they’re the only family they have.

✦ They have a language of their own, one only they can understand. They use it when they need to open up more deeply, where words in Standard Cybertronian just aren’t enough.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Trapped in a vicious cycle of pining? Try gay sex! (More things to learn over at Tiger Tiger!)

[mc-tums-fog]

Yeah, I went and watched Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves for the plot

The plot:

[savesavva]

There was a time when Mind didn't have his mask either

PART 1

PART 2 (you're here!)

PART 3

[scarletlight-has-issues]

Okay so I've held onto this one for quite a while bc I was self-conscious ab my art style and how it doesn't look nearly as good as a ton of other prohibited wish artists on here but I think it's time to share it-

I had this idea in my head and I just needed to get it out sooo um.

Sorry for the pain

Also I was testing out how I draw maskless Scarab (which is partially inspired by the INCREDIBLE @time-woods's design for their Carma sorry for the @ I just wanted to credit you for the inspo- btw) so it's changed a bit since I drew this bc Ive gotten more used to drawing him-

I have a ton more art in my backlog I'm just,,, self-conscious lol. trying to get better-

PLEASE [tumblr] fix the quality when I post this bc it looks like ass in the editor as Im looking at it rn

[wayfinderships]

Good morning gamers! Hope you all have a good day! <3

As for me...😔 I've perhaps developed. A 4th Yakuza crush...I gotta stop! I can't keep developing more!!

[himblebo]

Should I force myself to talk to women on hinge

[sschmendrick]

Sometimes I truly feel really dumb seeing all the people here and on the internet on general make amazing analysis of characters, of events, of parallels in books, movies, songs and whatnot. I feel very poor mentally when all I can see is cool images, amazing stories, and the best songs I get to listen to. I feel like I'm missing on so much, and always beein fed the analysis by other people because I just cannot do it on my own can be very tiring and sink the self-esteem. Especially as someone who's gonna end up working with artists I feel so out of place, like I shouldn't be there talking to them since I do not have the right tool to understand them.

What I hate most of all is that even the stuff that I adore I cannot dig into in a proper way. It's all feelings and it's not good enough.

[vanillajunmyeon]

i think crushes may be real

[unyearn]

oh gawd

[jensthwa]

we can't be friends (CS x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

San is your first love. He broke your heart and played with your feelings without even kissing you back when you two were in highschool. Now, many years later, you do your best to avoid crossing paths with him because there's just no way you could ever hate him, but there's also no way you two can be friends again. But his best friend is also one of your best friends, so there's only so much you can do to avoid San when he arranges a dinner you're forced to go to.

PAIRING: first love!choi san x afab reader.

GENRE: one shot (fluff, angst, smut)

WORD COUNT: 20k (yikes).

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, unnecesary pinning, a looot of context, bad friends :(, some arguing, tension, drinking and drunk behavior, tears, making out, description of female anatomy, oral (f reciving), fingering, love making, pet names (babe, baby), flirty seonghwa, wooyoung being a little shit again but also a genius, gyuri almost commiting a crime.

NOTES: hi everyone! this is a lenghty one, i know, but trust me when I say the context is necessary to understand what reader goes through with san. also, some of this may or may not have happened to me (have fun figuring out which part) (it's quite obvious tbh). THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE, even though there's some references and characters that you can only know if you read s&t lol. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: august 06 2024.

permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68

masterlist.

You and Choi San go way back. 

Well, it's nine years way back? You were only fourteen when you first saw him. 

He moved back to your area of the city a year after you moved from an entirely different one. You thought you knew every school secret there ever was, provided by your new best friend, Gyuri, but she didn't tell you about him at all. 

She claimed that it was because he didn't cause any stir the years they studied together before and after spending a whole first period in your eighth grade classroom with him at the back of the class, silently taking notes, you couldn't phantom why.

He was great at every subject, seemed to have a lot of popular friends and was, overall, a pretty nice guy. He was also very cute, skinny but you could tell he was the kind of guy who played a sport outside of school hours and he had a cute pair of dimples that showed everytime you scanned the classroom just to lay eyes on him. 

Choi San was a perfect boy to crush on, even a perfect guy just to have as eye candy during recess. You felt really strongly about him, not really forming a full opinion although your gut told you right away you were right. There was something about him… but you only figured that something until later, next year, starting your ninth grade. 

Gyuri and you were avid readers. Precocious girls, with minds way above your age. All your teachers praised came laced with the same compliment so you both decided that was the truth. You rejoiced in it, thinking you shared things in common with the grown ups and decided that that was the key to feeling a little superior in comparison to the rest of your classmates, who neither of you liked very much. 

Until they all decided to start dating each other and you two realized you were nothing but two kids with great imaginations and a love for school, praise and fictional men that couldn't be translated to the real world without sounding delusional and weird. 

So you decided to do something about it. And so, on a random Tuesday recess, you two scanned the crowd trying to find two boys (or a boy and a girl, because you always knew you liked girls too) worthy of your affections. One for her, one for you. Bonus points if the two of them were also best friends, of course. 

Double dates were all the buzz at the time anyways. 

Besides, only then they could understand the bond you and Gyuri had. Sisterhood like no other, nevermind Gyuri actually had an older sister and a niece at the ripe age of fifteen. 

And so when your index finger scanned the crowd and eliminated at least three potential crushes before landing on Choi San, you felt like it was meant to be. 

You see, his best friend, Jung Wooyoung, was perfect for Gyuri to crush on. He was almost as tall as she was at the time and his easy, outgoing personality was compatible with her book crush at the time as well. 

He also flirted with her on several occasions before that. 

So it was meant to be. 

Choi San, on the other hand, had never even glanced in your direction before. 

Just like your book crush did before he fell in love with the main character. 

See? Meant. To. Be. 

It was decided then that, although Choi San was not going to be your first crush ever, he was going to be the guy that motivated you to be at school for the time being, because math gets really boring after trying and failing at least ten times. 

You thought nothing of it when it felt a little forced, when you couldn't blush at all at the sight of him and you gathered that it didn't need to happen like in the books you read. You simply needed to say his name when someone asked you if you had a crush on anyone and that was enough to be in symphony with the rest of your classmates. 

Your longing glances were caught once or twice by him and you brushed the weird flip your stomach did everytime he looked away, blushing a little. You never really cared when it happened, really, knowing his crowd and your crowd (Gyuri and you) would never even cross paths in the first place. 

You two kept to yourselves and your little book unofficial book club, sitting on the floor at lunch time and cursing everyone who dared to call you weird for it. San and Wooyoung had a crowd of people at the loudest table laughing with them over stupid teen jokes and, uh, sports? You didn't even know. 

And then the unimaginable happened. 

Jung Wooyoung sat down, criss cross applesauce and everything, in front of you on a random Monday afternoon while you and Gyuri discussed the english assignment due next period. 

Gyuri was not too excited about that. 

Turns out, the only one excited to have a crush at school was you. She was very much still in the Lonely Hearts Club phase while you skipped all the way to your The Notebook phase and she was, in her own words, too afraid to admit it when you came up with your crush plan. 

You forgave her, of course, and decided to wait for her as long as needed because you were certainly not about to be an individual and have a crush on your own. 

And by the time Wooyoung smiled at you both and introduced himself to you, like you weren't in the same class for a year already, you thought your pretend crush on his best friend evaporated and joined the void superficial and fleeting interests you had. 

But then Choi San sat beside him, his knee brushing against yours in the process, and you knew you would have to issue a formal apology to your best and only friend for leaving her behind on this little thing. 

Because, oh boy, were you crushing on Choi San. 

You felt the blush rush to your cheeks and then fell silent while your friend and his friend discussed Fifty Shades of Grey for some reason you never cared enough to discover and you knew you were done for.

It was the first time seeing his dimples in full action, so close to you, so you completely stopped functioning all together. Amazing. 

When you decided to have a crush, you never took into account that you were, actually, quite shy. And he really wasn't, but you noticed that he knew when to talk and what to say and with your friend being a lot more outgoing that you were it gave you the comfort that she would speak for the both of you while you admired from the sidelines as your little duo became a group of friends you still miss deeply to this day. 

He was funny and you laughed at your jokes even though you pretended to be tired and completely worn out by the school day, resting your head on Gyuri’s shoulder and stealing glances at the boy while she kept arguing with his best friend. 

Wooyoung was popular and liked enough to have a few people sit with you later that week, people who never even knew you existed before that. They were good friends with San as well, so you tried your best to keep up with everyone until she sat down next to you one day. 

Arin was not really a bad person. She just was a bit conceited, calling herself princess type of conceited and you never really related to her even if she was nice to you to your face. She was absolutely gorgeous and, you found out with Wooyoung’s arm around your shoulder and a whisper to your ear, she had been San’s crush since they were both in elementary school. 

That would explain the sudden tension at the table when she sat down next to you, said hello to everyone, offered you a sweet she just bought from the cafeteria, and stared at San for the remainder of lunch time. 

You also noticed Wooyoung glaring at her a little and he later explained to you that he didn't really like her all that much. She loved attention and San gave her attention, so she would intentionally flirt with him to get her ego stroked in return. 

It didn't really matter how he felt about the girl, though, he didn't have to like her just because his best friend did. And when you caught her batting her eyelashes at San, you knew you didn't even stand a chance.

You tried to hide the disappointed look on your face but both Gyuri and Wooyoung looked at you while the two of them flirted endlessly for the remainder of lunch time and you figured you were doing a pretty shitty job at it. He didn't glance at you once either way, so it didn't really matter. 

Arin did but she just complimented your eyes and then started a conversation with someone across the table, her annoying sweet and fake voice making your right ear ring in disapproval. 

Either way, you ended up becoming her friend. Gyuri was not very fond of her and neither were you, but you all went to the bathroom together, did your makeup together, did school projects together and then sat everyday at lunch together with the rest of the guys who were, in one way or another, trying to get her to like them. 

Because, once again, she was a sight for sore eyes. 

It wasn't until later, in the middle of the year, that one of them did. Not Choi San, but Choi Yeonjun. 

You remember the day you found out they were together and the gut wrenching concern you felt when you found out that San was not at school that day. 

It was after summer break, you remember Wooyoung telling you that San and his family took a few more days of vacation and if you couldn't believe your eyes when you saw the new couple sharing a sweet kiss at the designated lunch table, you could only imagine how San felt the next day when he saw the same image right in front of him. 

Yeonjun was his friend, right? He knew about his crush and decided to get together with her anyways. Surely, San was devastated. 

But he wasn't. He just cheered them on and then laughed along when Yeonjun shoved his arm playfully after the hollering. 

But you saw through it. 

Your crush on San made you observant. Made you believe you knew him better than everyone else and so, after lunch, you took out your phone and pulled up the notes app. Writing a simple “are you okay?” in it and passing it to him the next second, you were surprised with yourself before you saw him frown a bit. And then he understood what you meant. 

Nodding, he passed you the phone back, before giving you a reassuring smile that you treasured in your heart and saw in your dreams. 

You didn't believe him, though, but stayed close enough to everything related to the situation to hold Arin in your arms when Yeonjun inevitably broke her heart. 

Starting your tenth year, he moved back to his city and decided to play the I thought we weren't even that serious card on her. Which was nasty, considering love it's very, very serious for a sixteen year old girl. 

By this point, you were all a little family and hanging out after school and on the weekends was not unusual, so it didn't surprise you when Arin invited you, and only you, to her house after choir practice on a Thursday. 

She lent you her older sister’s clothes to wear (because her's would never fit you. Her words, not yours) and took you to a walk in the park just to break your heart for the first time ever. 

“You know… I thought love was something I couldn't find in highschool anymore. But San it's really making an effort, you know? He's been there for me ever since Yeonjun left and… Well, I think he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend tomorrow.” 

Grasping the park bench she forced you to sit at, you only nodded and let out a shuddering breath that gave away what she was trying to figure out since earlier that day. 

“I'll say yes but only if you say it's okay to do so.” 

Arin was not really your friend, the same way Yeonjun was not really San’s friend. 

Because there's no way you would ever be okay with it. 

And yet, you tried your best to give her a smile and pretend the sound of your heart breaking didn't bring tears to your eyes “Of course it's okay. Why wouldn't it be?” 

A week later, they were officially dating. The rumors spread around like a wildfire and it took out of you with everyone calling San a nasty rebound and you doing your best to prioritize the ghost of the friendship you had with him. That whole fiasco lasted a few months. 

Months in which your friendship with everyone just grew stronger. Gyuri was still your best friend, Wooyoung was crushing on her hard and everyone knew, Arin and San were a steady couple, a new girl joined your class that year, named Yeri, and the principal assigned her to you because she thought you two would get along really well. 

“I like girls,” was like, the third thing she ever told you while you were showing her the school “I'm just telling you now because I don't plan on hiding it and you are wearing a pride pin.” 

“Oh, that's cool. I like girls too,” you smiled, looking at your pride pin “I didn't hide it either and no one gave me shit about it, so, don't worry.” 

Yeri also liked the mainstream music that you liked and soon she became a new addition to your group. And with Arin spending all of her free time with San, you, Gyuri and Yeri only grew closer and closer. You didn't have Arin’s voice in your ear telling you the million reasons she found Yeri uncool, but you saw it in her face every time the table laughed at one of Yeri’s jokes. 

And so, it went on for a while: 

Your mom driving all of you around in her car to the beach, to dinner, to the movies and letting you have mixed sleepovers at your house (meaning you, Arin, Gyuri, Wooyoung, Yeri and San) was fun and all, but it was not enough to distract yourself entirely. Everytime you glanced at the couple, that sinking feeling in your chest would appear and sulk your whole mood for, at least, fifteen minutes.  

Fifteen minutes of pretending you were okay with them before forgetting completely for an hour or so and then the cycle would repeat until you were alone staring at the ceiling and doing your best to not cry about it.

All it took was your first kiss being Yeri of all people for you to decide that it was time to retire your crush for Choi San once and for all. 

And for a while, it all went according to plan. You decided to tell Gyuri that it was okay because he was your friend first and the guy that you liked second and that you were not fourteen and desperate for love anymore, that it was time to go on with your life as if nothing really happened in the first place. 

You were hooking up with Yeri anyways, so it seemed like you were doing just fine. 

You grew closer to San as well and even though he mostly talked to you about Arin and whatever tantrum she was throwing at the time, you really started to feel some sense of normalcy within you when it came to just speaking to him. 

You no longer blushed when he made you laugh, you no longer looked at him with the longing of a past life lover and you were really happy for him because, at the end of the day, he was really happy with his relationship. 

Until winter break came around and Arin decided to give San his first heartbreak ever. 

She decided to call for a break in their relationship because she was, in his words, too overwhelmed with the amount of love and attention she was getting from him. 

Which was completely fucking insane considering the fact she forced him to save her contact as Princess Arin and all. 

So naturally, you sided with him. And she didn't take it to heart because everyone knew you liked San anyways. 

She told you the news herself through Facebook after asking you to explain to her the English assignment due next day and then she decided to tell you something you'll never understand because you no longer are on speaking terms with her: 

Princess Arin: u know i broke up with him because of u right? :) 

Princess Arin: one day I'll tell u all abt it. 

She never told you anything about it. And by then, you were starting your last year and San was your best friend who hung out with you everyday after school, calling you late at night and helping you with assignments through Skype. So you didn't really care. 

And as the day passed, you started understanding the connection they talked about in books and movies. You thought you did before, Gyuri being your eternal person in this world, but it felt so different with San. 

Different and good. Different and achy enough for you to want to keep it in your life. 

Your dynamic was friendly, sure, but it was alright. It consisted of banter and daring stares as well as laughter and soft moments you treasured till this day. 

“It's way too early to be this annoying, Choi San.” 

“Oh, you think this is me being annoying?”

You both got an hour of detention for disturbing the class that day. 

You loved it. 

But then, after almost a month of picking up the broken pieces of his heart one by one, and your mother giving him a self-help book to make him regain the confidence he lost during the breakup process, you realized that you were in love with him and there was nothing you could do about that. 

You noticed one friday afternoon, when he offered to pay for your and your mom's ice cream at the drive through, when he scrambled to get all the change he had on him to leave a tip for the person who handed you guys the sweet treat, that there was no way you didn't love him. 

And it was confusing as fuck when everyone else started to tell you he had feelings for you as well. 

“Think about it. You text each other good morning everyday” Yeri listed with her finger and you nodded “Then, you go to school, sit together and spend the rest of the day together” another nod “Then after school you either go get ice cream together or hang out for a bit with your mom while she drives him home. And after that, you get on Skype for the reminder of the afternoon and then he calls you on your house phone and you two spend the rest of the night talking before falling asleep on the line together,” she looked at you like you were insane for even denying the accusations made against San, but she continued anyway “And then it's rinse and repeat and it has been that way since… What? Three months ago?” 

You nodded again, defeated. 

“Girl, he likes you.” she sighed, annoyed and a little tired, before sitting on your lap and kissing your lips affectionately “And you're here making out with me instead of him. You really are a lost cause.”

That didn't stop you from hooking up with her until she found a girl who's heart was not reserved for someone else, though. Said girl went to a different school and was a year younger than all of you, but she looked very happy and stopped secretly kissing you in the school bathroom like a week after they met. 

And when she finally told everyone, you were really happy for her, but San not so much. 

It was the night you thought everything was about to change. The night you thought he was about to kiss you or you were about to kiss him, whatever happened first. 

Laying in your bed, facing each other in the dim light, he thought it was the biggest form of betrayal and pouted the whole time he explained to you why. 

He thought you liked her and you realized he didn't really pay attention to you after all. Not the way you did with him. 

Bless his heart. 

You didn't kiss him that night because he wouldn't shut up about you and Yeri. 

“I mean, why couldn't it be you? She clearly liked you if you two were hooking up for over a year” and when his hand came to rest on your back, under your shirt, you breath hitched enough for him to notice it but not enough for him to just don't do anything about it except trace the curve of your silhouette with the pad of his thumb “I don't understand why anyone would pass the opportunity to be with you.” 

Huh. Maybe he did have feelings for you. 

No. He's just being a great best friend. Don't take that for granted. 

But it was impossible for you not to take Yeri’s words seriously as time went on. 

You didn't want to think he was giving you mixed signals, but yet again there was that one time when you reached behind your passenger seat in your mothers car to pinch his leg playfully after he pulled on your hair a little bit from behind, only to end up holding his hand the rest of the car trip to his house. 

His fingers slowly caressing the back of your hand were just too much for you not to get everything mixed up. 

Or that other time when your school held a Woman's Day event, and your class president decided that all the boys in the class were going to give roses to the girls.

When it was your turn to get a rose, you knew no one would give you one. But Yeri stood in line and collected a rose from the bin before the class president had the opportunity to say anything else. 

“I'll take that, thank you very much.” She turned to you, smiling. San blocked her way to you a second after. 

“And just what do you think you're doing?” 

“Giving my best girl a rose, of course.” She peeked around him, giving you a wink that you could only roll your eyes to. 

San turned to you, the fondness in his eyes making you question the decision of not pretending to be sick that day. It was too much for you to handle. 

“To the back of the line, then. I already called dibs on her,” he turned to your friend, snatching the rose from her hand in one swift move “I'll take that, thank you very much.” 

He had no idea what that meant to you back then. It was true that, at school, he behaved a little differently than when you two were alone. 

He was athletic, so he had some friends that you were sure used to ask him what the fuck was he doing wasting his time with a girl like you instead of getting a new girlfriend. 

He had a family that didn't approve of yours, too. You felt it the first time you met his mom and, even though she was nice to you and your mom, you could feel the judgemental stare she gave both of you when your mom told her she was a single parent. 

San told you that it didn't really matter, that his mom didn't have to like you because you weren't her friend, you were his. 

He played with your feelings a little too well. Wanting him, adoring him and letting yourself be consumed by the thought of him loving you back was enough to keep it going. To ignore the fluttering way your heart kept beating whenever he talked to you which was all the time. 

You assumed the way he behaved with you in private was the real him. The one who didn't care about appearances or his family approval. 

The one who cared about you. 

It was dizzying and fantastic and you thought he just might've been the love of your life. 

But then he would tell you how much it hurted when he saw Arin at school and how much he missed her, the intimacy they shared before, and reality would come crashing down and setting your delusions on fire again. 

He had sex with Arin. You would never stand a chance. 

Or so you thought he did. Except when you overheard Arin speaking to her friends and that was the first time you ever got mad at Choi San.

“And, you know, me and San were never intimate like that so I wouldn't know but I think boys have no idea how to please a woman if they tried to.” 

What? 

Oh. So he lied to you. 

And you were so upset by the thought of him making up stories of their intimate time together that it didn't even cross your mind that Arin might've been lying to save face. 

So when he came back from the bathroom and sat at his usual desk in front of you, you didn't even think about his feelings when you decided to treat him like shit for lying about something so important like sex to your face. 

“Leave me alone, San! I don't want to fucking talk to you right now!” 

The hurt expression he gave you after that is one you would never be able to forget. 

But you grew to be stubborn and a little overprotective of your own feelings, so you thought him playing the part of your best friend all these months and sweet talking to you was just another one of his lies. 

“You guys not being friends right now doesn't make any fucking sense, sweetheart.” Wooyoung's tone is careful and laced with affection, but you knew he was playing the devil's advocate on behalf of San. With his arm around Gyuri’s shoulder (by that point, they were a thing for over two months) you could swear you saw him smirk when the nickname brought a scowl to your face. 

He might've been worried, but he was also a little shit. 

“You really are going to let Arin ruin what you two have?” Your best friend was, of course, on your side. But she was your best friend for a reason and her love included pointing out when you were behaving like an infant at the age of seventeen and a half. 

“You two are practically dating and you're going to let the evil ex-girlfriend get in the way? Over something you weren't even supposed to hear in the first place? Come on.” 

Again, Wooyoung was a little shit. And you were so upset about everything that you shyness couldn't even help the fury behind your reply: 

“Stop saying that! We are not practically dating, he's in love with Arin and I'm not sure I even like him like that anymore!” Getting tired of everyone and their mother (your mother) feeding your delusions, you came to the conclusion that putting a stop to your friendship with Choi San was for the best. 

And, in doing so, you ended up breaking your own heart for the second time in your life. 

But he didn't put up an easy fight at all. You remember the feeling of pure joy when he grabbed your hand on the way to the cafeteria one day, pulling you so hard you almost ended up sitting in his lap, and the way his pleading eyes begged you to listen to him one last time. 

“Us not being friends doesn't feel right, Y/N…” he said and the word he used to categorize what both of you had hurted you, but you pushed the feeling away “Please, let's not fight anymore. I don't even know what happened, but I forgive you for yelling at me and I hope you forgive me for whatever it is you think I did.” 

Of course, you forgave him the next second without thinking too much about it. And for a while, everything went back to normal. You Skyped as usual and occasionally you let your other friends join the call even though it didn't really feel like it used to before. 

The next thing you knew, your feelings were in full bloom again and when you realized it, it was too late. 

Because by then, you had already let your childhood friend, Sunhee, join a few Skype calls and by the fourth one she invited her friend, Minseo, to them as well. 

Terrible, terrible mistake. Because even through the screen, you could see that Minseo looked a lot like Arin with the added bonus that she was down to earth and cool and liked the same things San liked.

You liked the same things San liked as well, but it never seemed to matter. 

Because not even two months after you decided to stop talking to San over a lie you weren't supposed to find out in the first place and then became friends one more time, he gets together with Minseo and you're sick to your stomach all over again. 

You hated her. Not because she was, suddenly, his girlfriend (not girlfriend girlfriend, but in a friends with benefits arrangement you never even knew why he agreed on in the first place) but because suddenly she was so fucking obnoxious and didn't seem to like you either. 

Was it not painfully obvious San didn't have feelings for you? Why was she mad at you then? You literally brought them together! 

And all you got in return was her telling him she didn't feel comfortable with him having a girl best friend. That ungrateful bitch. 

He stopped calling. He stopped texting, he stopped carpooling with you and your mom after school and he stopped caring whether your math assignment was done or not. 

He stared pulling away more and more and it didn't matter how hard you tried to get him to talk to you, it seemed like he never really fucking cared about you in the first place. 

And by may that year, you didn't speak to San anymore. Granted, the only person he did speak to was Wooyoung, but even their friendship was falling apart. 

For the first time ever, San broke your heart firsthand. And it felt really, really fucking bad. 

You cried to your mom about it, she reminded you that you were nothing but a great friend to him and that, if he didn't take the time to appreciate that, that was his loss not yours. 

And she started hating him from that moment on. But you couldn't hate San, not even a little bit. 

Why would you hate him for not liking you back? For not loving you the way you loved hi— 

Your laptop closes down right in front of you and when you try to look up to find out who's responsible for interrupting your writing time, you get interrupted again. 

“Ouch! What the fuck, Gyuri?” The slap to the back of your head is quick and filled with rage. 

“What the fuck are you even writing. I can read from here, you know?” 

“I'm just laying my feelings down and— Ouch! Stop that!” You try to hit her back but she turns away quickly when your hands almost knock her coffee mug out of hers. 

“You can't possibly still have love for San, Y/N. It's been years.”

It's been four and a half, to be precise. But who's counting, right? 

“And why are you writing it in third person? You don't usually do that.” 

“I don't really know, Gyuri!” 

“I’m telling you, this celebratory dinner bullshit it's affecting you way more than it should,” she sighs, plopping down on the couch of your shared living room, and you leave your seat at the table to join her “He might not even show up. He has that thing with Kyungmi.” 

Kyungmi. 

You couldn't get to that part on your open document, but San left Minseo when he met Kyungmi at one of the frat parties they love to attend. Wooyoung told you that he said that it was love at first sight and you even met her briefly when you picked Gyuri up from the apartment he and San got when they started college together. 

She’s gorgeous and doesn't look like Arin or Minseo at all. It’s a different type of gorgeous. She's a year older than San and went to the same school as them and Gyuri. 

You think you might even like her better than him. 

You tried to be happy for San when you found out, but you two barely even speak a word to each other and you convinced yourself a while ago that you couldn't care less if he sees right through you and your fake smiles. 

You gathered, after everything happened, that San knew you liked him and took advantage of that. Unintentionally, but he did anyway. 

You sigh, resting your head on your best friend's shoulder. “It’s his best friend's celebratory dinner, though, he needs to be there.” 

Two seconds pass and then you both say it at the same time: “He’s in love.” 

And when San is in love, he has a one track mind with the name of his lover as the goal. 

You nod, but you can't help but to be insistent “It's Wooyoung's celebratory dinner, he needs to show up, right?” 

“I might not even show up, he's a pain in the ass.” She replies but you can tell her annoyance is not genuine and it makes you smile. 

Gyuri and Wooyoung broke up towards the end of your first year of college but you all stayed close friends. A one year relationship was not enough to fuck up the friendship they had and they decided to stay civil until, eventually, they became close friends again. 

To this day, you wonder why you and San couldn't rekindle your friendship when it became clear to you that you missed your friend and not the guy that you liked. 

Because San was always your friend first and your first love second. 

But it doesn't really matter anymore, because Gyuri is forcing you to shower and reminding you that you two need to keep Wooyoung on his best behavior tonight. 

“That girl he used to like before me is going, he said. I looked her up, she's single and he needs to get together with her because I can't take him whining about it anymore.” 

They keep things with each other way too civil, you think. 

“I'm telling you, if we don't show up he's going to do that thing where he gets drunk and makes a fool of himself. I can't have that, I'm on a mission.” 

“A mission to get your ex laid?” You ask, shampooing your hair. 

“A mission to get him a girlfriend so he can stop crying to me about feeling lonely.” 

“Maybe he wants you guys to—” The shower curtain opens and you see your best friend’s scowl before covering yourself up with your hands. 

“Gyuri!”

“Don't you dare say what you were about to say or I'm divorcing you.” 

You chuckle “Sure you are.”

You're left alone again with the water stream and she goes back to do her makeup “I told you back in ninth grade that we weren't a great fit and I was right. We can't get back together,” she sighs “It'll ruin everything.” 

“I doubt it will but you guys have been friends longer than you were boyfriend and girlfriend, so I'll just have to deal with my parents being divorced and civil.” 

“God, don't ever refer to us like that again— Oh! Speaking of parents,” you see her beam at her phone when you move the shower curtain to search for your towel and then she shows it to you “Mingi and Love just celebrated their one year anniversary!” 

Love being Mingi’s best friend. Gyuri talks to you about her college friend group all the time. The drama fuels your dinner conversations, you even follow a few of them on social media. 

“What does that have to do with parents?”

“They're the mom and dad of the group.” 

San is in that friend group, you can see him in the back of the picture and you recognize his apartment layout too. He's not the main focus of it but he's all you can see until you notice the couple sitting near him on the couch. 

The picture shows both of them, her in his lap and Mingi looking at her with stars in his eyes. 

Good for them. 

“Is that the girl he was friends with forever before they finally realized that they were in love?” 

“Yeah,” she sighs in contempt, looking down at the picture again “I was there the day it happened. I mean, not physically with them, but they left Yunho's party together and I told Wooyoung that it was finally about to happen!”

Gyuri is not a romantic person at all. Her excitement shows you that she really loves them and so you soften at the news that would usually give you and your dry love life a headache “It was the day before you called me to get you out of that awful date.” 

Ah, that also happened back then. You shudder at the memory.

“Tell them I say congrats, babe.” 

“I'm bringing you as my plus one.” 

You laugh, confused “To where?” 

“Their wedding, duh.” 

“They practically just got together,” you remind her, a year is not enough time to propose “And I don't really know them, Gyuri!” 

“They love you,” she assures you as you step out of the shower “I have been speaking about your antisocial ass for years. They can't wait to meet you.” 

“So you've been shit talking behind my back for years? Is that what I'm hearing?” 

She laughs “No, babe, that's Wooyoung's job.” 

Clearing your throat and looking at your friend through the mirror, you try to be as nonchalant as you can when you ask: “Has he… Did he tell you if…” 

“No, Y/N, I have no clue if San is going or not and Wooyoung is actually mad at him at the moment.” 

“Why?” 

She looks at you, sighing “He's been lacking as a friend lately.” 

“Hm.” 

“I hope you're not planning on swooning if you see him. Fuck him, Y/N.” 

“I know…” 

“And by fuck him I mean he doesn't deserve you or your forgiveness.” 

“He didn't do anything to me, Gyuri,” you remind her, shrugging “Not reciprocating my feelings is not a crime so I don't have to forgive him for anything.” 

You can practically feel her starting the San hate train engine, so you step out of the bathroom but her voice follows you. 

“And what about that time he ditched you for Minseo when you asked him to go with you to that medical appointment, huh?” 

“Cut it out, Gyuri…” 

But her head peaks around the corner, into the hall where you're rushing towards your room “Or that time when—” 

“Can't hear you!” Turning to look at her, she gives you an affectionate middle finger and heads back to the bathroom.

Closing the door, you lean into the thin wood and sigh, getting San’s face out of your mind so you can focus on getting ready and actually show up for Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. 

He just got a permanent position after completing his internship at a company that's your company's rival. He's going to crush you and steal clients from you but you are genuinely so happy for him. 

You should've guessed he enjoyed books as much as you did back in highschool. The debates he used to have with Gyuri were not all about flirting with her but also because he has a passion for books. 

And now he's going to work in the same field as you.

You're so proud of your friend. 

As you get ready, you remember the excitement cruising through your body when your boss trusted you enough to give you the first manuscript of a new client so you could edit it. You're sure Wooyoung is going to do better than you, taking into account that he actually went to college for this. 

You didn't. 

You met your boss at the part-time job you got in senior year, when you were trying to distract yourself from all the pain and the horrors of becoming a grown up. She was chatty, got a little too drunk on soju and told you she was starting her own book publishing company. 

When she returned months later after remembering that you told her you loved books and would love to work for as a publisher one day, she offered you a job in her company right after graduating highschool. 

You took it because you didn't think an opportunity like this would show up ever again. 

She was truly a blessing, the kind of person you never really believed in until she taught you all you needed to know about publishing and editing and encouraged you to take online classes during the nights so you could get, at least, a certification on what you do. 

You're proud of yourself too. The opportunity found you in a specific moment of your life where both your heart and your self esteem were destroyed and now you're not the person you used to be. 

Maybe that's why the possibility of facing San makes you so nervous. Collective memories are dangerous because the details never match the ones on the other person's head. 

You know who you were back then but… Are you the same person in San’s head? 

You don't even want to find out. 

Scanning your outfit in the mirror for the last time, you take the shoes you're wearing tonight out of your closet and walk over to the living room. 

Only to find Gyuri laying on the carpet under the coffee table, half dressed and on her phone. 

“You're going to mess up your hair.” 

“I don't care, I'm not going.” 

Sighing, you sit down on the couch and staring at the wood of the table covering her face. 

“What happened now?” 

“The bitch canceled!” 

“Wooyoung?” 

Poking her head out, she frowns at you “No, his first love.” 

“You were his first love.” 

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/N!” 

Laughing at her, you offer her your hand “Get dressed. Who cares if she's not going? He's not going to sulk because he's going to have you and his best friends there.” 

She whines like a child when you pull her up from the floor “I had a plan!” 

“Then make a new one, babe. We're going to be late.” 

She starts to whine again but then stops mid-groan to give you a once over. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance for the first time in years. 

“You look really hot…” she tells you and you fake gag at her words “Really pretty. Like a fairy and a smoke show at the same time.” 

You can't possibly look like that when you have such a simple outfit on, floor length high waist black pants and a flowy sleeve top that ties in the middle. It's barely formal but now you're thinking too hard about it. 

Blushing, you wave your hand to dismiss her compliment “Oh, my god. Go and change!” 

She rushes to her room on the opposite end of the hall and you finally breathe, looking down at your choice of fit and wondering if it's too much. 

Gyuri would've told you if that's the case, but either way it haunts your mind in the car on the way there, leg bouncing up and down under your best friend's judging gaze that only softens when you pout at her. 

“They are going to love you, babe. I'm so serious, they've been waiting years to meet you.” 

You nod because, yes, you're concerned that her friend group is not all as welcoming as she paints them to be. 

And you wish your doubts would go away but you're really, really not good at making friends. You're cautious, extremely closed off to new people and not as good with conversation no matter how much confidence you gained over the past years. 

When you walk to the loudest table at the laid back restaurant their friend Seonghwa made the reservation at, you think you won't be able to fit in with everyone else. You feel like an intruder, like Gyuri is supposed to enjoy this part of her life without you here. 

That's why you rejected every invitation they ever made. 

You celebrate birthdays with her, with Woo as well, but it's all very intimate and separate from their social circle, the one that includes the man you haven't fully faced in years. 

But you can't exactly back out now, not when one of them turns to you and seems to light up when they see you. 

“Oh? Is this her?” you recognize Hongjoong from pictures, he's the only one facing you when you approach the table, lowkey hiding behind Gyuri like a child. 

“Who?” 

“Huh?”

San is nowhere to be seen. Thank god. 

Slowly, everyone turns around and you see their faces light up with both delight and surprise. Your heart is pounding, you feel it in your throat, in your eyes, in the heat that colors your cheeks. 

But Gyuri just steps aside and presents you with a smile “This is her!” 

“Oh, Y/N!” Wooyoung gets up, rushing towards you and crashing into your frame with a crushing hug “I'm so glad you're here,” he murmurs into your hair and then turns to his friends, quiet them down “Everyone, this is Y/N, one of my best friends in the entire world.” 

He's such a dramatic human being.

You love him so much. 

Raising your hand, you shyly wave at them “Hi.” 

The entire table erupts with joy. Some of them greet you, some of them are saying that they are happy to be finally meeting you and Wooyoung grabs your arm and plops you down into the seat next to Gyuri, at the edge of the table. 

Laughing, you apologize for not meeting them sooner and then you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders. 

Panic raising, you quickly turn around to see who it is before releasing a shuddering, but calmer, breath. 

“She's a very busy woman, guys. She works for the competition, my competition,” everyone gasps at that but Wooyoung is smiling at you “and she's very good at what she does. Which means she's busy, get off her case,” he puts a glass and a can of beer in front of you “Drink, babe.” 

“Thanks, babe.” You whisper back and he leans in to peck your head before going away. 

Gyuri groans “Stop stealing that from us! It's our thing, Y/N, don't indulge him.” 

“It's his celebratory dinner…” you argue with a laugh that Hongjoong and Mingi follow. 

“Yeah! Can you get off my case tonight, Gyuri?” 

She huffs, wrapping her arms around you “I hate you all.” 

“No you don't!” 

The table laughs and everyone returns to their individual conversations when Woo sits down on his spot. 

There's a few seats left, one besides Mingi and one right in front of you but you don't think too much about it because soon Gyuri gets up to ask Yeosang something and Seonghwa occupies her seat right beside you. 

You think he can sense that you're more shy than you let on, because he doesn't include you in whatever he and Yunho were talking about and waits until he stops talking to him to turn to you. 

“So, you work for a publishing company?” 

The question catches you off guard and you swallow the beer quickly before nodding “Y-yeah, I… Yeah.” 

He chuckles “You're nervous.” 

“I'm just not as good at meeting people as Gyuri is. She usually does the job and I tag along.” 

“I feel like I know you already, though.” He says, leaning back on his chair. 

“Because she talks a lot about me?” he nods “Yeah, she tends to do that.” 

“Wooyoung also talks a lot about you, San too… Sometimes,” your cheeks heat up and he misinterprets what it means “All good things, I promise.” 

You doubt that. 

Your brain gives you a hundred and one possible things San could've said about you. 

For some reason, none of them are good. But you choose to believe the gorgeous, long haired guy in front of you. 

“Well that's good to hear,” you take another sip of your drink before smiling at him “I was sure Woo was trash talking about me.” 

He shakes his head with a smile “He wouldn't dare, he has Gyuri on his ass all the time and I'm sure she would kill him.” 

“I'm sure she would kill him even if he didn't do it.” 

His smile grows wider “That's true,” he says, looking over at them who are, very coincidentally, fighting about something. You let out a sigh and he laughs again before clearing his throat “So, the publishing company. What kind of books do you like to edit the most?” 

Your smile grows wider too. 

For the next hour, you talk to Seonghwa about your job and how you started in it. He asks you about your classes and the challenges that you face on a daily basis and Wooyoung overhears and ends up joining the conversation as well.

You don't even hear footsteps nearing until a voice cuts everyone off. 

“I'm sorry I'm late!” 

“Baby!” Mingi gets up from his seat, but no one else does so he's stuck between the table and his girlfriend. 

“Oh, that's Love, huh?” you ask Seonghwa, Wooyoung too entertained messing with the couple to hear you anyways. 

“Yeah… Is that how Gyuri refers to her?” He frowns.

“Mhm,” you answer, leaning into him like you're about to tell him an important secret “I'm not supposed to call her that, don't tell her.” 

Seonghwa leans in too, pretending to zip his mouth shut and you laugh. 

The girl wiggles her way into the seat reserved for her and everyone lets out a groan when they smooch each other. You can only giggle and the sound draws her attention to you “Y/N?” 

You quickly nod “Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you! Finally, I thought Wooyoung and Gyuri had an imaginary friend,” you laugh, shrugging at the joke “Love your outfit, by the way, are those— Oh, San, hi— Are those jellyfish?” 

You want to answer. You truly do, the yes right at the tip of your tongue, but words leave you when you turn your head around and find San already looking at you with wide eyes.

He looks great, he's a bit more muscular than what the pictures show and than the last time that you saw him, his arms hugging the fabric of the dress shirt he's wearing like it was tailored for him and everything. 

How dare he. 

You wonder if his heart is beating as loud as yours is right now. If he's surprised, disappointed or happy to see you at all. 

“Her favorite animal.” He answers for you “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi…” you whisper back and it feels like you're in a trance. He doesn't look away but the table quieting down once again snaps you out of it and you turn to the girl with a wide smile that you hope conceals whatever the fuck you're feeling at the moment “I love jellyfishes. Had a phase as a child when I would exclusively talk about them, too,” you chuckle, nervously, reaching for your earrings instinctively “Gyuri gave them to me as a present last Christmas.” 

You definitely overshared just now. From the corner of your eye you catch your best friend getting ready to step in if needed. 

Love looks at you, then at San (who's just standing next to you without uttering a word) and then back at you again, smiling like she just figured something out “Well, I love them.” 

“Thanks…” 

Coughing unnecessarily loud, Wooyoung gets up from his seat “You're late.” 

It takes a second but San tears his gaze away from you to look at his best friend and you take the opportunity to chug down the rest of your beer “Sorry, something came up.” 

Seonghwa turns at that and looks at him as well “You good?” 

“I am. Did you guys already eat? I'm starving.” 

“Nope. We're about to order. Let me get you a drink, come here.” And just like that, he disappears from your view and you almost sigh in relief. 

“Are you good?” Seonghwa asks you next and you reckon he's very observant. But then again, you're not the most gracious human being when you're in San’s presence, so, you figure everyone else noticed your change of mood as well. 

“Yeah, I just… I haven't seen him in a while and I didn't think he was coming. I was surprised, that's all.” 

“I can see that,” his eyes move around your face for some reason, frowning a little bit but then he seems to let it go, getting the menu closer to you “Okay, good, um… I actually made the reservation here because they have the best samgyeopsal in town.”  

“Do they?” 

“Mhm, so…” 

He helps you pick your food and when it's time to order, he moves back to his seat. Gyuri asks you with her eyes if you're okay, you nod and grab her hand under the table with a tiny smile and then everyone is moving around to make space for San and Woo once they return. 

He doesn't sit in front of you. 

Relief floods you and you can finally feel your muscles relax as he is so far away, at the other end of the table and in the same row of seats, so you don't really see him unless you really try. 

Which you don't, so your food goes down easy and the rest of the night as well.

Until everyone but you and Seonghwa move around their seats and he ends up right in your point of view as you do your best to ignore him and focus on his friend. 

Seonghwa asks you about your hobbies, you tell him that you love to write movie essays on websites no one even cares to read and he asks you to show it to him so he can look it up when he gets home.

“And you've always done this? Since highschool?” 

You nod and he beams “I read like the first three lines and it looks really good, Y/N. Is that why you love books so much? Because you're a writer?” 

“I wouldn't consider myself a writer but… Sure, I love to write.” 

“Did you know this?” he turns to San and your smile drops a little. 

“Know what?” 

“Your friend is an excellent writer.” 

“Oh, I know. She, uh… Used to write stories on her notebook instead of paying attention in math class,” he sips on his drink and at the detail you didn't know he knew, you turn to him fully “I used to read over her shoulder sometimes.” 

“She's really good.” Seonghwa is looking at your phone, still reading “Really smart, too.” 

San’s jaw tenses a little and you can't understand why “I know.” He says again. 

His friend is none the wiser, blocking your phone and returning it to you “I like it,” he says, smiling and you blush “The essay.” He clarifies after a second, prompting a laugh out of you that he joins. 

San doesn't laugh, but you don't pay attention to him because Seonghwa is asking you something else. 

When it's time to leave the restaurant, Wooyoung suggests going back to his apartment to milk the get-together as much as you all can.

You all throw your napkins at him in feign disgust at the choice of words but you all accept his proposal either way. 

So now you're sitting on the couch, legs crossed and head on Gyuri’s shoulder while you listen to all of them talk (more like argue) about something that happened at their university last week, their voices drowning the soft music playing out of the tiny speaker resting on the counter. 

San is on the floor, to your right. It's hard to keep your eyes off him when you feel him looking at you when you close your eyes and let the noise fade into the background. It's not like you're able to add something to the conversation anyway and Gyuri seems to be drinking her sorrows (not being able to hook Woo up with the girl she told you about) away. 

Your best friend is slurring her words already, drink in hand and index finger pointing at Jongho accusatively because, apparently, the fight they're talking about was his fault. 

“You don't—” she hiccups “You don't even know why it was your fault and it pisses me off even more, you know?” 

“Okay, let me take that.” Taking the drink from her hand and before she starts complaining you stand up to make your way into the kitchen. 

The sink is full and a mess, so you pour the liquid into it and leave the glass sitting right beside it. Distracted by the dilemma of helping Woo out with the dishes or not, you don't notice someone else also entering the space.

That's why you jump a little when you turn and catch Seonghwa leaning on the wall by the entrance. It startles you enough to laugh the nerves out afterwards and he shakes his head, smiling. 

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. They're boring me to death with the fight story.” 

You nod, realizing that maybe that's because he doesn't attend the university anymore. He told you he graduated last year “They're too drunk to let it go.” 

“Too drunk to dance to this amazing song, too. Who's playlist is that?” he frowns and you rest your back into the sink, rolling your eyes because he's pretending he doesn't know “Oh! Right, it's mine.” 

“And they just don't know how to appreciate it, huh?” he shrugs and you click your tongue “They're such bad friends, Seonghwa, I truly don't know why you keep them around.” 

“You appreciate it,” it's your turn to frown and he leaves his spot at the wall to walk towards you “You were singing along to it,” he explains and you let out an ah, nodding as he extends his palm to you, clearly inviting you to dance. 

“Oh, I don't… I don't really know how to—” 

“I'll show you.” 

His kind eyes are asking you to trust him. You really, really shouldn't. 

No matter how hard you try to bury the hopeless romantic little girl who decided to have a crush on a guy back in ninth grade, she's still there, begging you to let loose and live a little. 

When you grab Seonghwa’s hand, you think the smile he gives you was worth listening to her. 

You can't even tell the song that's softly playing anymore, a mellow r&b melody reaches your ear but you are not listening. You're focused on him, on the way he spins you around even if it doesn't fit the bit, on the way he laughs softly against your ear when he pulls you close by your hand and then pulls away just as quickly. 

Laughing as well, the spell of this beautiful stranger (because you remind yourself you don't really know him that well) is hard to break. 

Until it does. 

Someone clearing their throat behind you stops you and Seonghwa's feet from moving any further. When the tall, older guy turns you around, you're face to face with San and his scowl. 

“Sorry to interrupt but I need to get started on the dishes. Everyone else is heading out too,” he looks behind you, at the man who's still standing close to you and grabbing your hand “In case you want to ask Mingi for a ride.” 

“They finally stopped fighting!” he fakes excitement, finally letting go of your hand and walking in front of you, blocking San with his body. You chuckle, barely clapping your hands to join the pretense as he's pulling up his phone “Can I ask for your number, Y/N?” 

Blinking a few times, you're not sure if your heart speeds up because he's asking or because you hear San sigh exasperated behind him “S-sure.” 

When you put your information on his phone, he bids you goodbye with a pat on your head and hugs San on his way out the kitchen. 

Now that you two are alone, you suddenly want to run and join Seonghwa. You were doing so, so well. 

Avoiding San like the plague it's much easier when you're safe hiding behind your two best friends. 

Ignoring his stare would be much easier if you weren't stuck into place. 

“I—” 

“You—” 

You both speak over each other and you force out an uncomfortable laugh that he doesn't return. Instead, he motions you to go first while he occupies the space in front of the sink, turning the faucet on. In doing so, he has to grab your waist and move you out of the way which makes you short circuit for a second “I was going to help you with that.” You finally stammer out. 

He lets out what you take as an annoyed chuckle. 

“You seemed busy, I don't know how you would've done it.” 

Ouch. 

Why do you allow his words to cut so deep when you stopped caring about what he does a long time ago? 

The band aid rips, the stitches come undone and all it took him were five seconds to melt your resolve away like it was never there in the first place. 

“I'll… I go get Gyuri so we can leave Woo and you to get to it, then.” 

“Bathroom.” You hear him mutter under his breath as you are taking the final step to leave. 

“Huh?” 

“She's in the bathroom, probably puking her breakfast out,” he looks up at you to give you a tiny smile “You left her alone with Jongho and Woo for five minutes so she got ahold of another drink.” 

“God damnit.” 

Rushing out, you run into everyone else at the door and Mingi has to let go of his very intoxicated girlfriend when she reaches you to give you a hug “Don't be a stranger, Y/N! It was lovely to be around you, hm?” 

The sudden physical contact almost makes you gasp but you cover it up with a shy giggle “O-oh. Yeah, um, lovely to meet you too. All of you.” 

“Sorry about that,” her boyfriend grabs her arms and breaks the hug “She's right, though. Don't be a stranger.” 

You nod once, smiling a little more sincerely now and everyone says bye to you, including Seonghwa, who grabs your hand one last time and gives it a squeeze before closing the front door of the apartment. 

You think you feel your heart skip a tiny bit under all the shit San’s words pulled up to the surface a minute ago. But there's no time to dwell in that: you hear Gyuri opening up the bathroom door before gagging and closing it again with a slam. 

Jesus Christ. 

You two are really getting old. You stopped drinking like an hour ago, when you were starting to feel tipsy after your second beer, and you know she didn't drink as much as she used to maybe four years ago, but the visage that welcomes you when you open the door and find her crouched down in front of the toilet certainly brings back memories of those times. 

“I left you alone for like… five minutes.” Sighing, you lean in to hold her flimsy ponytail and pat her back. 

“I'm good,” she gags again and then holds up her hand to stop you from saying anything else “I'm fine.” 

Smiling, you help her up and she grabs the counter as she's washing away the taste of whatever she ate earlier today and alcohol “Me when I lie…”

“Y/N!” she hits your arm but the movement somehow almost makes her trip. 

“You want to lay down?” 

“Is she okay?” Woo’s head peaks into the bathroom and when he sees his ex, he makes a face. 

“Does she look like she's okay?” you help her out of the bathroom and start heading for Wooyoung's room. 

“Wow, wow— Where do you think you're taking her?” 

“To your room, dumbass!”

“Why mine? San's is literally right there.” He whines, pointing at the door you pass by without a second thought. You don't want to know where his room is or what it looks like at all. 

“Yeah, well, did San get her this drunk?” 

“How was I supposed to know that she was at her almost black-out phase? She never drinks that much in front of me!” he complains again but you're already tugging Gyuri in, who mumbles something incoherent and then flips Wooyoung off “Na Gyuri if you puke on my bed I swear to God!” 

If you didn't know Wooyoung so much, the whining and the attitude would probably make you think he didn't care for her at all. But he's brushing her hair out of her forehead, securing the blanket around her and moving to take her socks off when you reach the door. 

“I'm guessing you're okay with her staying the night?” 

“Of course you guys can stay the night, Y/N.” He says and he stumbles a little to get to you, so you smile and shake your head, about to let him know that you're not staying anywhere near his roommate when he continues “You can come over whenever you like. You know that, right?” 

“I know, Woo.” 

“I barely even see you these days, I… Oh! I forgot!” he points to the end of the hall, towards the kitchen “You guys don't really like each other so maybe don't come over when he's here because I don't want to see you sad!” 

“Lower your voice,” you whisper to him, bringing a hand to his face and patting his cheek a few times to wake him up “Did the alcohol suddenly hit you or something?” you sigh for the umpteenth time “Anyways, you should lay down and I'll get going. I'll come pick her up tomorrow and—” 

“That's such a great idea! Oh, I'm a genius.” 

“You didn't come up with it, Wooyoung.”

“San!” he calls all of the sudden and you wish he was sober enough to read the panic on your features. He seems much, much sober when his best friend starts walking down the hall and stops right beside you “Take Y/N home, please, she's going to give you a bag that you must protect with your life.” 

Said best friend looks at you, his eyebrow arched in a silent question “Gyuri’s stuff.” 

“Ah.”

“Go, go. It's getting late, I'll just… I'll cuddle with my ex until you get home.” 

And she has the nerve to say he doesn't want her back. 

When the door to Wooyoung's room closes and you're left with San on the poorly lit hallway, you make a mental note to never step foot on this place or allow your friends to drink ever again. 

You don't even look at the guy before practically running down the hallway and reaching for your bag. You make sure your phone is secured in your pocket as you slip your shoes on and soon you're grabbing the front door knob and twisting it. 

Keys jingle next to you but, again, you don't spare San a glance. 

“So—” 

“I'll get out of your hair, you don't have to… walk me home or whatever he said.” 

“Y/N, it's late.” 

Turning to him, your smile is as fake as the ones you've been giving him the past couple of years “And I'm a grown up, San, I can walk myself home.” 

“What about Gyuri’s stuff?” 

“She can wear Wooyoung's clothes, it's not like they never shared before. Anyway… Thank you for having me, it was nice to see you. Goodnight.” Your response comes out fast and it sounds as planned out as it actually is, kinda robotic and devoid of actual emotion. 

San can't see through you the way you see through him. It's okay, he won't mind it. 

He probably won't mind that you close his own door on his face either. 

If that door is what you hear when you're making your way down the stairs in order to make a fast escape, you choose to ignore it. 

You have to stop mid-way to compose yourself. You don't know why you feel like crying or why your heart is beating so fast. 

You knew going in that there was a possibility of seeing him tonight. You know how San affects you, so effortless and seemingly like no time has passed at all in between senior year and present day. 

You know all of this already, it's an endless loop that will keep repeating until you either move away or decide to stop agreeing to Wooyoung's plans all together. 

So why is your chest heaving with emotion? Why is nostalgia playing mind tricks with you? Why do you want to turn back and hug him and beg him to turn back time so you can do it all differently now that you know how to look like and what to say to make him love you back? 

Ah, you're definitely not sleeping tonight. So you start distracting yourself while walking down the stairs again. You remind yourself to tell a much sober Wooyoung how proud you are of him. You think about Seonghwa, about his kind eyes and the way he grabbed your hand to dance with him just half an hour ago. You wonder how long it will take you to get home if you jog all the way there. You—

Why the fuck is San outside when you get there? 

In a comedic way, you can see your attempt to distract your mind off of him slipping through your fingers and evaporating in the warm summer night breeze. 

In a realistic way, you're fucking pissed at him for taking the opportunity of a good night sleep away from you. 

You pass him and start jogging like you planned a minute ago. Footsteps follow you until his arm brushes yours and you take a step to the side to stop it from happening again. 

“Go home, Choi San.” 

“Stop fighting it, Y/N. I'm walking you home.” 

“It's a twenty minute walk—” 

“Drop it.” 

You do. And for the first ten minutes, no one utters a word even if the tension feels electric and the street is so quiet so you can hear when his breath accelerates when he jogs to catch up to you whenever you try to leave him behind. 

Isn't that ironic. He was the one who left you behind all those years ago. 

“I didn't know that you danced.” 

He breaks the uncomfortable but safe silence to say that? 

“Well, you saw me dance so I clearly dance when I want to.” 

“You never danced with me.” 

“You never asked me to.” 

He laughs “I'm pretty sure I did on several occasions, Y/N.” 

“Well, you're wrong,” you're getting annoyed. How dare he think he remembers better than you? “It doesn't matter anyway, what's past is past and—” 

“You also gave Hwa your number,” he interrupts, his long legs taking two strides to get in front of you, still walking, facing your direction with his hands on his pockets. 

It's dangerous and stupid, even if the streets are practically empty and the sidewalk barely has any bumps. 

You hope he falls on his pretty face.

“I did.* 

“I don't have your number.” 

“Well, I changed it and you never asked for it, so…” 

“You could've called me or texted me to let me know you did it.” 

He's getting on your nerves.

“San,” you start, taking in a deep breath you hope calms you down “We don't even text anymore, why would you want my number?” 

“Do you like him?” 

“Seonghwa?” you ask, frowning and he nods “Like… As a person?” 

“As a potential love interest.” He clarifies matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes. 

“I met him today, San. Why do you want my number?” 

“Because we're friends?” he offers after a second, shifting so he's walking by your side again. 

“Are we?” you ask, laughing bitterly at that “Because we haven't spoken a word to each other in years.” 

“That's not true.” 

“It is, San.” 

“You… You don't speak to me anymore, so…” 

“Well your girlfriend at the time told me she didn't feel comfortable with me speaking to you anymore,” you sigh “so I didn't and you didn't try to talk to me either.” 

“Well, I want to talk to you now.” 

“And is your new girlfriend aware of that? Is she comfortable with that? Because I don't want anyone telling me what to do anymore and—” 

“Why wouldn't she be comfortable? We're friends, Y/N.” 

“Are we?” you insist, petty, bitter and overall very, very hurt. 

He looks offended at that “I assumed we were?” 

He's getting on your fucking nerves. 

“We stopped being friends the second Minseo asked me to stay away from you because she didn't like me, San.” 

“She’s not in my life anymore—” 

The words are coming out of your mouth without even thinking it through. His demeanor, the way he's somehow reproaching you for whatever he saw between you and his friend, the way he pretends nothing happened between you and him, thinking that you two are still friends. 

“We stopped being friends when you pulled away from me, saw me do the same and did nothing to stop it from happening, San.” 

He stops in his tracks at that. You don't, pushing forward and quickening your step even if your calves burn. 

“Either way,” you speak up “Make sure you tell your girlfriend about wanting my number and then you can ask Seonghwa for it if you want—” 

“She's not my girlfriend anymore!” 

Now that stops you, just a few buildings down from yours, you turn around just to find San closer that you thought he'll be.

“O-oh. I… I didn't know that. I'm sorry.” 

“You didn't do anything to be sorry for.” 

“Still, it must suck so I'm sorry you're going through that.” 

“We didn't want the same things and so we ended it. It is what it is.” 

You nod. 

He walks the few steps separating you and you have to raise your chin a little to look him in the eye for the first time since you left his apartment “I wanted to tell you.” 

“That you broke up with your girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, I don't know why. It happened when I broke up with Minseo too, I just… You're the first person that I thought of calling when it happened. I texted you, too, but the messages didn't go through.” 

You hum at that. 

Why would he even say that? 

You resume your step, not really knowing what to say until you reach the stairs that lead to your building’s entrance. 

“And you didn't ask Woo for my number?” 

He follows you up. 

“I don't think he would've given it to me if I asked.” 

That sounds like an excuse, so you don't let it slide as you enter the code to your building and let yourself inside, San holding the door so he can get in as well “Why would he do that?” 

“Because he…” San sighs, pressing the elevator button “Nevermind. He just wouldn't.”

Frowning, you turn to him “No, now you have to tell me.” 

“It doesn't matter, really—” 

“Tell me, San.” 

He stares for a second and then looks away, like a child, vulnerable and you can't help but soften at that “He didn't like the way I treated you.” 

Eating your words from before, you shake your head “You didn't treat me like anything.” 

The elevator dings and you get inside. 

San follows you. 

“Exactly,” he says, resting his shoulder on the metal “Like you said I just did nothing and—” 

“Well, sometimes that's just what happens,” you want to end this. You want to pack Gyuri’s bag, give it to him and never see him again. 

This conversation hurts, it reopens barely closed wounds and it creates new ones you don't really need when it comes to whatever happened between you two. 

There's only so much a person can handle and it really doesn't help that you're a fool for San. He takes advantage of it, of the fact you can't really push him away at this point and the fact that he wants to have this conversation now instead of four and half years ago? 

Mean. 

He's mean. He's evil. He's… He's staring at you with a spark in his eyes that you recognize too well. 

Hope. 

When you get to your floor, you try to wipe the image away while busying yourself with your keys. Your hands tremble a little but you're able to open the door of your apartment and get in without inviting him. 

He gets in anyway. You take off your shoes as he closes the front door. 

He stays silent as he follows you around the apartment and you don't worry about turning the lights on. You get into Gyuri’s room and start picking out a comfy hangover outfit for your friend. Some clean underwear, sweatpants, two shirts and socks. 

When you drop to the floor, in front of the closet, to look for a bag to stash all of it in, San silently clutches beside you. 

“It shouldn't have happened to us. Never us.” 

You can't take it anymore. 

“San, what is this? What are you doing? I mean, why are we—” 

“I know.” 

“It's been years…”  

“I miss you.” 

He's so mean. But the softness in his tone resembles the one he used all the way back in highschool, when he told you that not being friends with you didn't feel right and you want to cave in right there and then. 

Your heart screams at you to do it, your reason warns you that you both have been through this before and it never ends right. 

You simply can't stay friends with Choi San. 

Your love for him must run too deep, your resentment claws at it and tries to hurt it but it's an immovable force that won't budge even if you try to bury it under the years that have passed, the things he has done. 

Tears gather in your eyes and you try to blink them away as you stare at your best friend's clothes on your lap and try to come up with something to close this path up again, reconstruct the picket fence you built around it the second he broke your heart for the first time. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back, letting the walls fall a little “I miss you too but I don't think I miss whatever version of you you are right now, San.” 

“W-what?”

His shaky voice makes the walls crumble and crash. 

Turning to him, your hand shakes as you place it on top of his “And you don't miss the version of me I am right now. You miss what I was back then, the comfort and the shoulder to cry on I offered you when Arin and you broke up. You miss my availability and the way I didn't press my feelings on you because it didn't matter if I liked you or not, you were my friend first and the guy that I had a crush second but—” you choke up, tears falling down your cheeks even if you don't want them to “I can't do it anymore. I'm not that girl anymore and I won't be there for you now that you and Kyungmi broke up because I can't handle it. I can't, I'm sorry.” 

He doesn't deny any of it.

He stares at you, tears wetting his cheeks as well and it hurts even more this way. You wish you had the strength to hold it together, to treat him like you did on the street a few minutes ago, but you can't. 

There's no way you could ever hate him like you want to. 

“You know…” he starts in a whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle “That's what I used to tell myself too.” 

“Hm?” 

“That you were my friend first and the girl that I had a crush on second.” 

How dare he mutter the words you always wanted to hear, the ones you picture being said in a different setting, the ones that haunted your every waking thought that period of time you doubted your friends, your mom, yourself for even believing Choi San could ever have a crush on you. 

He doesn't get to say them. You want to tell him but the words die on your throat and form a lump that you can't swallow down. 

You don't get to say that. You don't get to say that. 

Your hand drops from his and you look away again only to grab the first bag you find on the closet floor and shove Gyuri’s stuff in it. 

If the lack of response it's what prompts the hurt in his voice the next time he speaks, you don't want to think about it. 

“I wish I didn't. Now it's too late to do something about it, huh?” 

This time the rage comes back with a mask on. Feing settlement for all the what if’s covers you like a blanket on a really hot summer night: unwanted, unnecessary. 

But you can't sleep without it, so you do nothing to push it away. 

“I guess it is.” 

You get up from the floor, leaving the room and wiping your face with bitterness coating your movements as you wait by the door for him to get out. 

When he does and he steps in front of you, you extend the bag and he takes it without missing a beat. 

Voice robotic and words premeditated, you open the front door for him “Thanks for walking me home and taking this back.” 

He leans a little into your space and you don't move away. But just as he did in highschool, he takes in your hitched breath and does nothing more.

“Thanks for letting me talk to you.” 

He didn't give you much of a choice there but it's okay. This is closure, this is the end of your story with Choi San and you convince yourself you're glad that it is. 

“Sure,” you whisper back and he steps outside, turning around to watch you slowly close the door “goodnight, San.” 

He doesn't say it back. 

When the darkness of your apartment engulfs you, that's when you let yourself breakdown. Covering your mouth with your palm, you descend until your knees are against the wood on the floor and closing your eyes you make it a point to let it all out. 

You'll let it all out, drink some water, text Wooyoung and Gyuri to let them know you're safe and go to bed. 

And tomorrow you'll begin your day with the freedom of finally knowing what would've happened if you or San ever took the next step. 

This is fine. This is moving on. This is— 

The doorbell rings. 

Opening the door again, you crease your eyebrows in a silent question that San doesn't care to answer, so you look around the floor in case he forgot something you're missing. You wipe your cheeks and under your eyes as you turn to him again “Did you—” 

Time slows down when he makes it past the threshold and you can't move an inch, gaping at who you once thought was the love of your life “What are you doing, San?” 

“Something about it.” 

“What?” 

“Forgive me,” he asks, breathless and in a murmur, fueling your confusion. And then he's closing the distance, dropping Gyuri’s bag and cupping your face so gently that it hurts “but I'm doing something about it.” 

You stopped dreaming about the possibility of San kissing you that one time you two were on your bed and, another time, you told yourself that, if it ever happened, you wouldn't kiss him back. 

It's too late to kiss him back. 

But sparks fly when he crushes you against the wall and takes in a breath before slothing his mouth against yours like he's been waiting to do this every single day for the past nine years you've known each other. 

There's nothing you can do to conceal the way yearning takes over you, pours out of you, making you breathe into his open mouth and kiss him back like you always wanted to. 

You already know it is a mistake by the time you grab his shirt to keep him in place but does it really matter when this is all you ever wanted? 

Feeling warmth leave your face, you notice the way he desperately crowds your space as his chest bumps into yours, leg claiming its place in between yours, the palm that leaves you pressing against the wall, next to your head. 

The kiss is filled with emotion, with longing and desire and it steals the air out of your lungs tragically and beautifully at the same time. Before, you used to dream about his lips making everything feel right, making you fit in in a world you didn't feel like you belonged to. 

But this kiss drops you into uncharted territory, drags you into the depths of something that should be buried by now, after all this time. It brings the flame back to life and it's dangerous. 

The fact that it feels this way, both marvelous and catastrophic at the same time, makes you so sad. 

Sorrow descends down your face until your mouth is picking it up and your tongue is mixing it with whatever emotion is cruising through San right now. 

You have to know. 

He spent your entire youth and early adulthood keeping it to himself, knowing when to show his true colors and when to hide them, choosing who to do it with and you realize the San that lives in your head is nothing but a figment of what you wanted him to be. 

Because him holding to your waist like it's his only lifeline doesn't fit the San you remember, him telling you he liked you back then doesn't fit the guy who was just your best friend. 

You need to know. 

“San,” brokenly, you speak into his mouth and he pulls away just enough to see your face. Your eyes remain closed, your chest heaving and your lips trembling “Why are you doing this?” 

“Because I want you, Y/N.” 

You push him away, weakly, almost like you don't really mean it because deep down you don't but he steps away like you're asking to. 

Because, of course, your mind scraps the bottom of your resentment to give his words a completely new meaning. 

“You can find another girl to fuck and be your rebound, San,” more tears spill down and you wipe them away in anger but more threat to fall down so you cover your face with your hands and groan, desperate “I can't do this, especially not when I know that you know how bad I wanted you. Y-you know what you do to me San so stop—”

“I want you in my life. I don't— What? I don't want you like a rebound, I… Can we sit down and turn on a light so I can look at you when I say this?” 

His words should be reassuring but they're not, the way you tend to feel unlovable around him coming up to the surface, preventing you from thinking clearly. 

You can also feel his lips on yours still. It's dizzying but you manage to push yourself off the wall and pad around until you hit the switch of the warm light lamp near the couch and the apartment comes to life just like that. 

He takes in the space he's never seen before, walking slowly towards the living room and looking over the bookshelf that screams your name all over it. He smiles a bit as he looks over the book titles and you look away before your heart starts acting up again. 

You can't stay mad at him for long if he's looking through something so personal to you and smiling that fondly at it. It feels even more intimate than the kiss you two just shared. 

Wiping your cheeks once more, you are sure you look a mess but he doesn't seem to mind it once he comes into your point of view, sitting down on the couch, in front of your standing form. He grabs you by your hands until you're sitting next to him, close to him, cologne intoxicating your senses. 

“I told you I liked you when we were in highschool, right?” 

You nod. 

“You seemed surprised but it was dark so I'm not really sure. I thought you knew, everyone knew.” 

Oh, he's a comedian. 

“How would I have known, San? I… Yeri told me you liked me one time, in senior year, but I denied it. Then, my mom told me you seemed to want me in a non-platonic way and I dismissed her as well,” you take in a deep, shaky breath “For me, the thought of you liking me just didn't make sense. You loved Arin and she's… She doesn't look or act like I did back then at all, so how would I have known?” 

You didn't need clues and puzzles and what if’s, you needed words and actions that weren't confusing. You needed him to tell you back then, because telling you right now and kissing you senseless after he broke up with a girl he supposedly was very in love with means nothing but pain. 

“I didn't realize you liked me too,” you make a face, about to tell him off, but he interrupts “I didn't! I thought you liked Yeri and I thought you saw me as the annoying guy who wouldn't leave you alone. I only just realized it a couple years ago, because Woo told me.” 

You raise your eyebrows and mutter under your breath “I'm murdering him tomorrow.” 

The corner of his lips twitch before he shakes his head in dismissal of what you said “I liked you. I really, really liked you and never told a soul because… Well, it's scary when you fall in love, right?” 

“San, you had no problem telling Arin, Minseo or Kyungmi that you liked them.” 

He looks down to the floor, lost in thought and you want to open your mouth to take what you just said into a new direction, but you don't “Maybe that's because I didn't love them the way I love you.” 

Oh. 

Love you? As in… He loves you right now too? 

No way. 

“You didn't love me, San. You don't love me right now either, you… Maybe we both were in love with the idea of love? Maybe that's what happened and—” 

“Quit telling me what I'm feeling, Y/N. You always do that, you always assume you know what I'm feeling but you don't!” 

Raising your voice a little more, you try to get your point across in the worst way possible: by being stubborn “You don't know me! How can you possibly—” 

“I knew you back then, Y/N! And I loved you back then, too!” He looks like wants to say something more but he doesn't, instead, he takes a calming breath and then leans into your space for the third time tonight “And I might not know you now but I want to. That's what I meant when I said that I want you. I want you in my life, I want to know the person you became when we stopped talking, I want to talk to you every single day and I want to hold you and kiss you and be by your side however you want me to, I just… I can't lose you again.” 

His confession renders you speechless and you notice his chest is heaving, going up and down in sync with yours. 

But the way he pulled away from you senior year still hurts, it paints a picture of what's going to happen if you accept this. 

You can't believe his words. 

He must feel lonely and confused, like he did when Arin broke up with him. He must be looking for a shelter you can't provide. 

“And when you find another girl that's more to your liking? What then, San?” 

“There's no one that I love more than you, Y/N and I'm sorry I was shit at proving it back then and I'm sorry that it took so many years for me to come to my senses.” 

He's tearing up and your heart pangs absurdly loud at that. 

“I saw you with Seonghwa earlier today, laughing and dancing and flirting and I thought: Oh, maybe if I didn't waste that much time pretending I'm someone I'm not, that would be me.” 

You stare for a second, you watch a single tear drop down his cheek and then look away. 

“Is that what you were doing? Is that why you pulled away?” 

“Maybe?” he offers and you turn to him again. Is not enough and maybe he can see it in your expression, because he goes on “I mean, I… I thought I wanted Arin. I thought I wanted Minseo. I had people in my life who were really happy to see me with them and I just…” 

“Wanted to keep them happy,” you nod, understanding. He doesn't have to say his mothers name for you to know he's referring to her and maybe his other highschool friends outside of Wooyoung “Were you pretending with me as well?” 

“No,” he answers right away “You and Woo were the only ones who saw me for who I really was back then.” 

“And why do you think you love me now, San?” you ask, deflating against the couch and ignoring the way your heart soars at his quick response.

“Because I never stopped,” he stammers out and then clears his throat “Because I looked for you in Minseo and Kyungmi and I wondered for years why they couldn't make me feel the same way. And I told myself I didn't need to feel the same way and that I deserved to wonder for the rest of my days but seeing you tonight? I can't.” 

Straightening your spine, the pained look you sent in his direction is not intentional but it prompts him to lean closer and closer until he's cupping your cheek again. 

“I can't keep wondering.” His voice is a sweet whisper, a siren song that draws you in until your forehead is resting against his. 

All these years, you were so self-focused on changing to a better version of who he used to know, learning from your mistakes and closing off to the opportunity of letting him prove himself a better man, you forgot that time passed for him too. He’s telling you he changed, too. 

Imagination is a safe space. Is where you hide, where desire can take its wings and fly high without hurting you too much. Make belief has rescued you before but this? The way his nose nuzzles softly into yours and your breaths tangle? This is very real. And reality is prone to hurt you. 

But the want you feel is undeniable. The way your entire being wants to cave in and give him an opportunity is suffocating, it makes you choke out a sob that he follows with one of his own. 

You kiss him, softly at the beginning, but his hands on you tighten and you let yourself get lost in the way they go down your neck and your arms, caressing you softly until they reach your waist and pull you into his lap. 

Pulling away, you grab his chin with two fingers and force his teary eyes to snap open, searching for an answer on yours.

“If you hurt me,” you start, breathless “If you're mocking me, if you're using me to get over Kyungmi, if you are pulling me back in to break my heart again, Choi San, I swear to God I will kill you.” 

“I won't do that to you ever again, Y/N,” he returns softly “I love you, I'm sorry if I ever hurt you but I love you.” 

Others would argue that it is pathetic how quickly you forgive him. But then again, you could never be mad at San. 

You were only mad at yourself for how everything turned out. 

“I love you too, Sannie.” 

Saying something never felt so freeing before. 

“Oh, Y/N…” you can see the way relief washes his worries away “Y/N…” he starts to say but then leans in to kiss you again and never finishes his words. 

You don't mind it. 

Pouring out all the pent up affection you pretended to bury for years, you explore his mouth and carve into your memory the way he feels. The way he sighs into it when your tongue brushes his, the way he pulls you in closer when your fingers reach the nape of his neck and pull on his hair there, hands splayed on your back so he can keep you in place as he leans down and places you against the worn out couch. 

He maps you out, hands going down your waist in a familiar feeling that brings back that memory of you two laying down on your bed. Only this time, he's actually touching you with a purpose. This time, you two have made up your minds and your limbs are tangled in a way you can feel all of him pressing up against you. 

It starts to get stuffy, the space on the couch not nearly enough to have him the way you want to. Soon, you're both standing up, mouths still moving against each other and hands roaming everywhere until you're undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

He pulls away to fully take it off, eyes never leaving yours, dropping the shirt to the ground, next to the couch and then he's on you again, making your back crash into the wall as he works the knots keeping your blouse together. 

He walks you through the hall, stopping only to take your top off and then he's walking you to a room that has a familiar scent that doesn't belong to you.

“Wrong room, wrong room,” you say into his lips and he laughs, looking to your surroundings “Mine’s over there.” you point to the other end of the hall, taking his hand and pulling him towards it. 

You don't make it far before he's yanking you towards him again. He looks down, taking your body in and you do the same, his firm and defined stomach a sight you never thought you would be able to see. 

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, backing you against the wall again and kissing your cheek “So, so beautiful.” 

Turning your head to chase his mouth, he lets out a heavy sigh when his lips trail a path to your neck and murmurs against the skin there “I never told you how beautiful I found you before but you're so perfect, baby.” 

“I always thought I wasn't your type, San,” you let out a noise when he grabs your hips and pulls you forward, crashing his into yours “Fuck.” 

“And I always thought you were too much for me, too smart,” he kisses his way back up, focusing on your jaw and chin until he's kissing your cheek again “too pretty,” he moves to your ear, pecking right under it and you hold him closer “too good for me.” 

It doesn't really matter that this is all new to you, the way he's speaking, the tenor of his voice, the things he's saying… It sparks something familiar in you. You're pulling his hair back to make him look at you, a moan slipping out of his lips at that. 

You want to hear it again. 

He's smiling at your reaction, hand tightening on his locks.

However, that smile drops when he seems to recognize the gleam in your eyes. 

You gather up courage, feeling empowered by the way his hooded eyes darken but wait patiently for you to speak your mind. 

“Maybe I'm too good for you now, too,” you lean in, your lips softly tracing his “Maybe you should prove to me that you deserve me, San.” 

It's a dare. One that he seems to like a lot because his eyes sparkle with the same fire they used to back in the day. 

“Oh, I'll prove it to you, alright.” He whispers, panting when you let go of his hair and he leans into you to kiss your lips briefly before pulling away again.

His hand tilts your head back and you rest it against the cold wall, his fingers touch your bottom lip before going down and down and down until they rest against the seam of your pants, unbuttoning them in one swift movement. 

Going back up, his nails softly dig into your skin and you preen, taking the soft sting of his ministrations like you two have done this a million times before.  

His mouth is on yours again, his hands are pulling you off the wall and into your room until you two land on your mattress, a moan spilling out of your lips when he sloths his knee in between your legs and pulls them apart with expertise. 

You don't have the mind to break down what that means. 

Opening your eyes when he kisses down your neck again, you notice your room is barely lit by the street lights outside, curtains pulled open and windows closed but, this way, you can see the way San kisses between your breasts and your belly, catching his eyes when he looks up to measure your reaction. 

You sigh, already feeling some sort of build up going on down there and he hasn't even touched you properly yet. 

You don't even want to think about how wet you actually are. 

He leans back, open palms going down your legs slowly until they reach your feet. It tickles and you can't help but let out a giggle that he joins short after, his gaze never losing the edge because of it, though. 

“San…” 

He guides your hips up so he can take off your pants and you sigh when his hands return, raising your leg up “I missed your laugh,” he says low, attaching his lips to your calf “I miss being the one making you laugh too.” 

You feel like crying again but then he's letting your leg down and grabbing the other one to give it the same treatment, so your tears can wait. 

This time, he moves upwards till his mouth nears your clothed center and your breath hitches. 

Yeah, you can definitely cry later.

“You want me to prove to you how much I want you, Y/N?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting your mound now “How much I love you?” 

“San, p-please…” 

“Fuck, look at you.” He sounds like he's too lost in the heat of the moment and you're kind of grateful, because the moan you let out when his fingers hook on your underwear and pull them to the side to expose your pussy to his hungry eyes is loud. 

When he kisses you right where you need him, you let out another moan. And when he parts your folds to lick a stripe up to your clit, you curse him under your breath until he's laughing against you softly, the vibrations accumulating heat on your belly. 

He doesn't tease you much longer and you look down at him just to catch the moment his self control slips, eating you out like a man starved while his hand stays on your hip to hold you down and keep you underwear from interrupting his feast. 

“This is like,” he dives in again for a few seconds and you grab the sheets beneath you “All my fantasies coming to life but better.” 

He's so chatty during this and the only thing you can do is stammer a yeah? and pray for it to reach his ears.

“Mhm,” He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue and your legs shake “It tastes even better than what I dreamed, too.” 

The heat of his mouth leaves you, lips spreading your wetness through your stomach until he fully reaches your face, your eyes closed and lips already waiting for him. 

Tongue caressing yours, your hands trail down his torso and focus on getting his pants off. You're shaking with excitement so it proves to be more difficult than you imagined at first but he helps you in unbuckling his belt. 

Once the piece of clothing is on the floor (or the bed, you're not really paying attention to where it lands), you don't waste time in feeling him up through his boxers. 

The hiss you get in return makes you smile. 

Bringing your lips to his neck, you suckle on this pulse point and gain another pleased noise before grazing your teeth against skin and moving to his collarbone next.

In a way, you get what he means. If he truly was pining over you the way you were pining over him, the thought of exploring his tan skin and making him moan feels like a dream. 

So you kiss him again in order to make it all last longer. 

The minutes pass between the both of you, softly making out and figuring out what gets both of you going, discarding your underwear in the process. 

You realize your moans make San’s cock twitch against your leg and he seems to notice the way your hips buck up everytime his hands handle you more roughly. 

After a few minutes of just this, you feel his hand making its way down again and the pads of his fingers circle your clit until you're grasping the sheets again. He gathers your arousal and then enters one finger slowly and when it slides in and out with ease, he enters the next one. 

There's really not much prepping he needs to do, already soft and compliant under him, you relax into his comfortable touch before you're aching for something else. And your mouth is preoccupied with his, so you do something else to catch his attention. 

Hands caressing his back, you let them drop to his ass with a soft smack that wins you a soft huff on amusement and then a whine when you move his hips towards yours. 

“Condom?” 

You shake your head “I'm clean and I have an implant.” 

“Oh?” he smirks, about to tease you but you squeeze his butt again and he moans “Fuck. I'm clean too.” 

“Good,” you whisper against his cheek, laughing as he arranges his position. 

And he might've been touching you all this time, kissing you until your mind emptied and your lips are all swollen up, but the look on his eyes when he slowly enters you is what might drive you over the edge. 

Grabbing your hands, he pins them on the side of your head as he moves, dropping his head down with a groan as you take him in, nose touching yours and moth whispering sweet things you can't quite pick up. 

He feels so good. 

This all feels way too good to be real. 

In the cloud you're at, you allow yourself to dream a little more before the reality of what your confessions mean dawns on you. 

For now, you allow San to make love to you. Sweetly, slowly and with a passion you never were lucky enough to encounter before. 

Maybe it's because your previous lovers didn't have your heart the way San does. 

He rams his hips into yours hard, closing his eyes and resting his warm cheek against yours, kissing your face inch by inch when you accompany his movements with your own. 

When his pace picks up, you hug him close and secure your legs around his hips as you moan. 

“Y-yes, fuck.” 

“Like that?” he repeats the movement from before, pulling out and then in with such force it rocks the entire bed. 

“Just like that, baby, fuck.” 

“God, you sound so good,” you smile a little, forehead resting on his shoulder before your head falls down against your pillow again “I love you,” he repeats against your lips, letting your hands go to cup your face with both of his again “I love you so much.” 

Teetering over the edge, you feel happy tears stinging in your eyes. Though closed, you can feel San’s stare on you, on your face, on the way you react to his sweet words and relentless pace. 

You say it back in a whisper and he repeats it again and again and again until you're both coming and tears are spilling down your cheeks. 

He kisses them away. 

You wipe his with trembling fingers as you come down, having trouble breathing from everything that just happened. 

You don't feel suffocated anymore, you feel like you've been freed. Like this was supposed to happen at some point and you two finally got around to it. 

“I love you,” he says once more before slipping out of you with a parting kiss. 

Holy shit. 

When San gets up from the bed and you point him to the bathroom, down the hallway, you're left with a sticky mess in between your legs and a lot to think about but you settle on four things. 

San just made love to you. There's no way that was just sex. 

There's also no way you're coming back from this. 

Gyuri is probably going to kill you. 

And that, obviously, your feelings for San never left. You feel the familiar warmth of them spreading through your post-orgasmic state. They're there, mocking you, asking you who the fuck you thought you were for pushing them away. 

He returns, toilet paper in his hands before leaning in and cleaning you up, lips immediately finding home on your skin as he does. 

You both giggle at that.

You probably need to shower but you've been crying and there's no way you're leaving this bed tonight. He throws the paper away on your bedroom’s trashcan and then crashes into the bed next to you, still naked, still looking at you with so much love you're wondering what stopped you from seeing it was there before. 

Taking his hand, you bring it to his lip and give his knuckles a peck “That was really good.” 

“It was.” 

“I can't believe we actually just did that…” 

He smiles and what he says next shocks you even more than his confession “I want to take you out.” 

“San… You just came inside me not even ten minutes ago.” 

“And?” you laugh and he shakes his head, leaning into your space again “I spent many years doing everything wrong, let me do it the right way.” 

“Making love to me one time and then taking me out on a date is not the right way, sir.” 

He nuzzles your cheek with his nose and you let out a pleased sigh “Who said it was just one time, huh?” Attacking your neck with his lips again, you push him away with a laugh. 

“Oh, come on!” 

He laughs as well “Give me ten minutes and I'll make it two!” 

San makes love to you two more times. And by four in the morning, you're snuggled into his arms and sleeping soundly. 

When you wake up and find the space next to you empty, you think it was all a dream. Your naked form begs to differ and you quickly put the t-shirt you usually wear to bed on and your panties underneath it to go out and face the feelings of your actions fighting with the blender in the kitchen. 

“How do you two live with this stupid thing?” 

“We don't,” you answer, startling him “We don't use it. What are you trying to make?” 

San’s shirtless, wearing his pants and his hair messy. Looking back at the living room clock, you see it's just five past ten. 

Smiling as he approaches you, you forget you must look a mess too when he pecks your lips and barely pulls away “Good morning, beautiful.” 

You pretend to cringe at that, pulling away “Oh, God. Morning, dumbass.” 

“You like it, you're blushing,” he points out and the pink on your cheek deepens as he's going back to the blender “Does anything work here?” 

“The microwave,” you shrug “And the stove. Were you trying to make yourself a…” you look over the ingredients he has pulled out of your fridge “Green juice?” 

“I was trying to make both of us a green juice,” he corrects and your heart skips at the immediate domestic attitude he has with you “But now I can tell neither of you drink anything like it, hm? I'm buying you a blender.” 

“Please don't.” 

“Why?” 

“Why do you think that one is broken?” 

He hums, huffing out a laugh seconds later and you walk over to him, unsure on how to approach him even though what you did yesterday night and earlier this morning didn't allow your shyness to step in. 

Now you're feeling it. 

He can tell, because he stops fighting with the steel appliances to grab your waist and pull you close “I wanted to make you breakfast.” 

“We can make breakfast together and I can order your green juice,” you compromise and he nods, but he doesn't let you go “And later we can go out on that date you promised me yesterday and we can go over what we're going to tell the two idiots.” 

His smile drops. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Grimacing, you nod “It was the second thing I thought about after waking up.” 

“What was the first?” 

“Oh, I was trying to remember if you ever asked me to dance before,” he nods with a smile “Guess what? You didn't.” 

He fake gasps at that “I did!” 

“No, you didn't!” 

“Babe, yes I did,” he insists and you laugh, which prompts him to wrap his hands around you tighter when you try to get away from him “It was when—” 

“Oh. My. God. I'm going to be sick again.” 

Now when the fuck did Gyuri come back. 

And why is Wooyoung with her too, jaw slack as he watches both of you pull away from each other and create a safe distance that doesn't help whatever your best friends just saw. 

“It worked?” he asks and you can barely hear him until he hollers like a crazy person “Oh, it worked! I am a genius!” 

“Wooyoung, hold me! I'm going to kill them!” Gyuri looks like she's about to launch towards you at any second now, so you close your eyes and accept your fate. But nothing happens “Wait— What worked?” 

When you open them again, San is hiding behind you and Gyuri’s back is to both of you as she looks at Wooyoung with, what you assume, murderous intentions. 

“Gyuri, let's talk about this,” the black haired guy puts his hands up “You were too drunk to discuss it so I made the choice of— Gyuri, no!” 

You burst into laughter when she starts chasing him around the apartment and San giggles as well, only more nervous than delighted by their little cat and mouse game. 

He's probably sensing he's next on her hit list. 

As if you would let anything happen to him in the first place. 

“Stop, stop! I'm sorry, please leave me alone!” you hear Wooyoung’s voice echoing through your hall and in a second he's entering the kitchen, rounding you and San “I'm so happy for you guys, really, this was meant to happ— Stop!” He cries when Gyur catches onto him and yanks his hair to stop him from running.  

“Y/N,” she starts, chest heaving and you take a step back, crashing into San’s chest. He holds onto you only to push you a little and protect himself from the fury of your best friend “When I told you fuck him I didn't meant this!” 

“I know.” 

Wooyoung whines but he can't get away from her grasp so he just accepts it and pouts like a child. 

“A-and you!” She points towards the guy resting his chin on your shoulder “How dare you! If this is something casual for you then—” 

“I love her.” He defends himself quickly and your heart all but stops at that. 

“You do?” Wooyoung coos, amazed at his best friend’s confession. 

Gyuri's anger falters at that. 

“You… You do?” 

“And I love him,” you let out in a shy whisper, smiling a bit “But you already knew that.” 

“Of course I already knew that, bitch, I am your other half,” she makes a point to stare at San as she says it, letting Wooyoung go and he massages the part of his scalp that was targeted by his ex “Don't forget that.” 

“Y-yes ma'am.” 

You laugh again and Woo joins the embrace, eyeing you both expectantly and rolling his eyes when neither of you say anything to him “Well, you are so welcome guys. What are we having for breakfast?” 

You and San don't get to go out on that date. 

But when you do, he asks you to be his girlfriend the next day. 

And when you say yes he almost breaks down in excited tears.

Eventually, even Gyuri comes around and threatens him into treating you right, which means he earned her seal of approval. 

You delete the document on your laptop when you find it a month into being his girlfriend and, instead, start drafting your new beginning on it, in first person this time because the story doesn't feel like it belongs to someone else now.

The first line read as it follows: 

How did I ever think San and I could be just friends? 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[lighting-and-shadow]

Ikigai, Part 9: Shifting Dynamics

Summary: Old friends, new friends, and two not-so friends.

Ikigai (n.) (Japanese): "A reason for being," the thing that gets you up in the morning.

Trigger Warnings: brief mentions of suicide, romanticization of suicide, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of murder

Part 8 | Part 10 | Series Masterlist | LADS Masterlist

“Have fun.”

His voice is light, teasing like it usually is. But you can tell there's something more underneath that facade. Even as Sylus hands you his black card, you know there's more there.

He’s unsatisfied with something. He wants something.

It's the way he looks at you. Like he's craving. Hungry. You don't see this side of him often, but it usually comes out during when you need to dress fancy for some party or gathering.

Don't dwell on it. You have work to do.

You snatch his card from him, careful to not even graze his skin. His touch has a way of distracting you. And those kinds of distractions are the last thing you need.

“We shall.”

Sylus gives you a strange look. You just stare on forward, beckoning him to give you the card. Then he chuckles and his eyes soften to that special gaze that makes your heart melt before he hands it over. God are you glad things are at least semi-normal between the two of you.

You lean into Miss Hunter, loop your arms through hers, and begin to walk away.

“Me and Miss Hunter are off. Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on her and make sure she isn’t too good of bait.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Miss Hunter mutters.

“And I am hardly a babysitter,” you smile at her. “I’m merely looking out for my new friend because she’s clearly a trouble magnet.”

Miss Hunter scoffs at you. Sylus just watches the two of you with a smile that speaks to something deeper in you.

“And you? Who will keep an eye on you, sweetie?”

“Everyone,” you reply with a smirk. “Because that’s my job.”

That’s why he called you Gamayun, after all. Because you bewitch and charm people with the words from your mouth. Sometimes you told truths, hidden prophecies and tales of the past. Sometimes you told lies, dark exaggerated whispers and catatraphizing things from the smallest details.

Gamayun wasn’t just an empty promise of Sylus’ love. It's more than that. It’s your story. It’s you. And that’s why you love the nickname so much despite the pain it causes.

You exchange a look with Sylus before he leaves to deal with the traitor. His carmine eyes and heartfelt expression draw you in. For a moment, he’s the siren between the two of you.

But than the god of death that he is, and the origin of your own nickname for him, claws its way to overlap that beautiful face of his. That part of him is struggling to come out right now. He doesn’t want to become that fearsome person, and just remain in his other state.

He stays loyal to his duty, though. Much like you do. You wish you both didn't have to.

You focus on Miss Hunter in order to drown out those thoughts. Watching her go wild with Sylus’ card, after you encouraged her multiple times to do so, brings a smile to your face.

But, at the same time, you can’t help but mentally check out. Your mind drifts to simpler times. Times before you were in love with a taken man and the two of you were just boss and employee.

The hostess of the gala stands out in her intricate blue dress. Crushed seashells along her trim dazzle like diamonds. Her deep blue makeup perfectly complements her pale skin.

Just her getup alone reminds you of the mermaids you've seen in books as a kid. Her flickers make the semblance all the more obvious.

Flashes of tattoos on her face and a scaly tail where her legs should be. They bring with them a hum in the air, and the scent of salt. But they vanish just as quickly as they come.

She's beautiful in both states. Beautiful and deceptively fragile.

Because if someone was just looking at her for the first time with no context, they couldn't imagine the sheer amount of blood on her hands.

Kai is a delicate woman, small and unassuming. But you know better from the stories you’ve dug up and the ones your boss has told you.

”A woman with an ice-cold heart,” all the rumors said. Sylus just said she’s a ruthless cockroach unwilling to die, which he could respect.

She seems so untouchable. You and Sylus make your entrance to her gala, you in his colors and arms locked, yet she doesn’t even spare a glance. She just talks. Talks and ignores all gazes that turn to the new people in the room.

She may ignore your presence, but you can’t ignore hers. Not with that color that bleeds into her thread. Not with the stain of death that hangs upon it.

A dead soulmate, her thread reads. One that took his own life.

It’s the rarest of threads for you to see. Because most tended to follow their soulmates. A soulmate’s love is the most treasured love, after all. And to live without that love isn’t a life worth living in the eyes of most.

Maybe that’s why she has such a vicious repetition? Maybe that’s why she’s known for having such a dead heart? Because people sensed there was something fundamentally wrong with her, much like they do with you.

You chase those cursed thoughts away as soon as they come. They only bring misfortune, and tonight, you need anything but that. You need Kai’s fortune.

”This place is rather stuffy,” you comment loudly enough for the hostess to hear once you’re close.

Kai’s expression doesn’t change, but the look in her eyes do. They shift to one of curiosity and inquiry.

Most people wouldn’t dare to insult a party to straight to the hostess’ face. Especially when said party is being thrown by her. So as you've hopedd, she's drawn to you, even if she's unaware of that.

From what you've researched about her, she is a woman who values honesty. So while it may pain you to be so blunt, being forthcoming is the best way to sway her. That, and if you can find her single weak point.

Because someone like Kai doesn’t do all this without reason. You need to find that reason.

Of course, there were rumors. Secret children. Dying parents. But, seeing her in person confirms only one: a spouse.

Kai doesn’t wear a ring on her finger. She doesn’t even have a tan-line to indicate that she wears one outside of work. It’s her thread that tells you of another. You don't get the details. But this person, this mystery spouse, is kind. With a heart so warm it thawed even Kai's.

That’s who you need to find.

”Apologies, Mrs. Kerr,” you plaster on a genuine smile. “Didn’t know you were so close. I may look like a dragon at the moment, but I assure you, I do not possess the eyes of one.”

You fiddle with the fake, but realistic, horns on your head as you say this.

”Seems you got my gift,” Kai’s voice is smooth, but absent of any emotion.

”Gift, you say? That’s what you’d call this?” Sylus gestures to you and him.

For whatever reason, Kai decided to make her gala themed. Non-humans, to be exact. And you and Sylus are dragons, fiends, according to what she sent you alongside the two invites. Said invite had clear instructions on how you wouldn’t be let in if you weren’t wearing your designated outfit.

You knew from the second you saw the outfits (after getting over you initial shock that she had your measurements for some reason, and knew of your employment under Sylus so quickly) that Sylus wouldn’t be in a good mood during this gathering.

He’s already glaring daggers at anyone who dares to gaze at him for too long. And he’s touched his horns so many times, you’re surprised they don’t have handprints in them.

However, he still manages to keep that same arrogant smirk and carefree attitude. Or, at least, he manages to fake it enough to make it seem that way. You know better due to your power.

Kai seems to know better as well. She keeps her eyes locked onto Sylus as she briefly greets and waves off other guests. Her face remains blank, but her eyes and thread tell of amusement. She notices your boss’ discomfort just like you do.

”Of course it’s a gift, Sylus,” she casually says his first name when others would say it in fear or would just use his last name. “What else would you call this?”

”You don’t want to know what I would call this, Kai,” he spits out her name like it’s an insult.

”You’re right, I don’t. Maybe your new employee can tell me what she thinks of her outfit? Everyone else has just given me the best of compliments, so I’d like to hear something honest for a change.”

The two most dangerous people in the room give you their full attention. You take it in stride, relying on years and years of practice not to shrink under their judging gazes.

Starting to feel like we’re not on the same side, you think as Sylus’ eyes in particular bare into you.

”I find them quite telling, Mrs. Kerr.”

”Telling of what?”

”Telling of your relationship to my boss, and why he decided to drag me here of all place for our first outing,” you give your full attention to Sylus before you continue. “Speaking of which, said boss needs to make himself scarce if he wants this to work properly.”

Sylus tilts his head at you, leaning to whisper in your ear, “What do you think you’re doing?”

”Setting you up for success. Now shoo,” you whisper back into his ear.

”How demanding you are, Miss Negotiator. And here I thought I was your boss.”

Sylus’ tone is the same as ever, but the glint in his eyes tells a different story. One of how he doesn’t appreciate you ordering him around and disrupting your dynamic. One of danger and cautioning you not to cross a line.

You soldier on, “You brought me here to work. So mind your ego, and let me, because she and you clearly have bad blood and I’d rather not have to navigate that all night.”

Rather than taking offense by your blunt words like a normal person, Sylus just gets more amused.

”What makes you think we have bad blood? This could just be our way communicating.”

You scoff, glancing quickly to see if Kai noticed, but she's already back to greeting guests.

”Don’t insult me, boss. Even a blind and deaf person could notice how much you two want to rip into each other.”

A thought suddenly pops up in your head after you say this.

”Why in the world do you want to do business with a woman you clearly despise, and who hates you in return?”

”Ever heard of keeping your friends close, but keeping your enemies closer, sweetie?”

You jab him in the arm for the stupid nickname, one you’ve told him repeatedly not use on you because that sort of nonsense should only be used with his soulmate. He’s ignored you every time, too entertained by your flustered reactions.

”Business requires mutual trust, does it not?”

He laughs. “Not here, sweetie. Here, business can come about merely because two people want to spite someone else.”

He looks you dead in the eye with a sinister smirk, “Or because the desperation to live is just that powerful.”

Sylus finally walks away once he says that. Shivers run down your spine. His words are a reminder of why you’re really here, on why Sylus decided you persuading one of his enemies to work with him was your first task.

He’s measuring your worth. He’s seeing if he should keep you around.

For all that you two joke and banter, there’s always a voice in the back of your head that wonders if he’ll change his mind about sparing you. You may not have known what your old auction house was doing precisely, but there may have been others that died there that were the same.

You’re here to prove that you were different than those buried in the rubble. And prove it you would.

Kai turns back to you, “Finished?”

”Of course, Mrs. Kerr. Apologies for my boss’ behavior. Listening to reason isn’t his strong suit.”

You feel a bit guilty about insulting Sylus, but than you remember his numerous threats during your first week at his base and immediately brush that off.

”I get the feeling you and I know that better than anyone.”

”Tell me about it,” you roll your eyes before schooling your expression to a more serious one. “And now that he’s gone, how about we talk business?”

”Bold one, aren’t we?”

”I was under the impression you valued honesty, Mrs. Kerr. I’d rather not insult your intelligence, and instead would like to negotiate in good faith than deceit.”

”Good faith? From Sylus?” She sneers, the most emotion she’s shown thus far.

”Not Sylus. Me.”

”You work for him. Isn’t that the same thing?”

”If we were remotely the same, I highly doubt you’d give me the time of day.”

”Maybe I’m giving you the time of day because you’re similar,” Kai takes a sip of a drink someone had offered her, frowns, and than says, “Because at least Sylus is never boring. Two of him equals twice the fun, right?”

You laugh, “Two of that man would drive me insane. And I'd imagine that would be the same for you, no?”

Kai shakes her head in humor, face still as blank as ever.

”No, you’re right. Just the image in my head of that is nightmare fuel enough. Two of him means twice the explosions every time we meet, and I don’t think my people would want to deal with that anymore than I do.”

Her words give you pause for concern.

”Explosions? That’s a theme with him?”

Kai gives you a questioning look for you to continue.

”The first time we met he blew up my old workplace. Granted, my old boss deserved it, but still… didn’t think that was an every day occurrence for him.”

”I don’t know about every day, but he tends to explode something every time I meet him. Usually me. Granted, this is usually after we’ve had another… disagreement.”

She sounds proud of herself. That pride is wiped away in a second, and she levels you with a harsh gaze.

”He knows we aren’t friends. Or allies in any capacity. And that we’ll turn a gun on one another for the right price. So why has he sent you to me?”

That ice cold gaze of her beautiful eyes would freeze anyone else. Years of customer service and dealing with others far more trigger happy than her allows you not to waver.

”Because he’s testing me,” you decide not to beat around the bush. “Getting you of all people to work with him will prove my worth.”

Kai isn’t fazed by your words.

”And you think you can do that?”

You shrug. “Why not? You’re a woman of extreme intelligence, and you’ve worked with him in the past for the right price. I just need to find out what price will make you stay and what it entails.”

Silence falls between the two of you. And you almost believe you see the ghost of a small fall on her lips. But her face is back to its usual blank expression before you can even blink.

”Ya know,” there’s a drawl in her tone, an accent leaking out that wasn’t there before. “Most people are never this upfront. Even when being honest or acting in "good faith" like you claim."

”I worked at an auction house before Sylus hired me. Trust me, I’m well aware. But I find such conversation to be desperately dull. Much like most parties.”

”I hope you’re not including mine.”

”We shall see,” you glance around, looking for a certain something for a moment, but you spot your destination easily. “Aw! There’s something to spice things up.”

You gesture to her open bar.

”I wonder who suggested that? It stands out from the usual things at these gatherings.”

”My spouse,” you’re a bit surprised at Kai’s admittance; it isn’t public knowledge that she’s married, after all. “Sylus knows I’m married. And even he didn’t, you’d of all people would’ve figured it out.”

”You flatter me.”

The two of walk to the bar. Many eyes follow you, but no one dares to approach Kai.

You see Sylus in your peripheral vision, sipping on some expensive drink you’ve seen your old boss drink occasionally, and surrounded by people who talk at him. Sylus just looks at them bored out of his mind. His signature smirk is plastered on for appearance's sake.

There’s desperation in those people. For his attention. For his cooperation. For his money. And he just stands there with that familiar, arrogant, expression.

His eyes flicker over to you. You put on an award-winning smile, and that smirk of his deepens to a real one. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand upright.

Because he’s judging you, studying you in ways you didn’t think possible. This is the first job where you had any danger from your own boss; the others hired you under different circumstances.

You brush him off as soon as you get to the bar. You had a plan to enact, after all.

When the woman behind the counter turns to you and Kai, you give her a sweet smile.

”Why not take a break, honey?”

The woman gives you a look. Kai doesn’t react.

”I’ll take over. I was a mixologist not long ago, and I believe your employer wants a drink more to her tastes. You seem tired, and I’d hate to put any pressure on you when I’m the one being so nosy.”

Kai tilts her head at you before she addresses the woman, “Do as she says.”

The woman thanks you profusely, and practically sprints out of the ballroom. You walk yourself to behind the counter, scanning the spread of high quality ingredients with a keen eye.

My old place was never this decked out, you think to yourself as you search for just the right things.

You get to work pretty quickly, Kai watching as you fly around from shelf to shelf. But you avoid any alcohol like the plague. From what you dug up on Kai, and your observations of her thread, she hates alcohol.

Her father drank so much to the point where she had to raise herself and her brother alone. On his rare days of coherance, he'd throw bottles at the siblings, screaming how Kai's brother murdered their mother.

Her soulmate used to use it on their bad days before their death. Alcohol is symbol of dread to Kai, a painful wound that will probably never properly heal.

You can relate to that somewhat, with you aversion to romance. Not on the same level, but that’s what empathy’s for; you don’t need to have the same experience to have an idea of what she’s been through. That, and you can read her soul.

There’s turmoil as she watches you work, curiosity and a bit of fear mixing together to make a cocktail of emotions in her heart. Outwardly, she doesn’t show any of this. Her inner world is locked away.

Another thing you two have in common. You’ve been burned by the world far too many times to trust it with your fragile heart.

And it’s why you’ve been so truthful with her so far. Kai and you’ve been lied to and lying your entire lives. Shedding that skin and becoming someone that isn’t like that for her, someone she can trust… that will do far more good than any savvy business proposal or story.

So you work to give her a flavorful drink she’ll love, reading her thread and working in your experience to create the perfect blend. The second she takes a sip of it once you slide it towards her makes all the effort worth it.

”Not bad, Miss Negotiator,” it’s as much of a compliment you’ll ever get from the woman, and you'll take it gladly.

”Why thank you for the kind words, Mrs. Kerr.”

You give a little bow as begin your next drink. No one’s ordered yet, but some of Kai’s guests are curious and look at you.

The waiters obey your orders, delivering each personalized drink to correct person. An arms dealer here, and a jewel thief there. Each have varying reactions from mirth to shock to almost a little bit of fear over the strange woman who entered with Sylus knowing them so well.

Speaking of your boss, you save his drink for last. Both for the drama and because than that puts him into the spotlight once more. The mysterious bartender and her boss… eyes will turn to the both of you.

But, eyes are apparently already on your boss. And not for anything good. You watch the last waiter go with his drink and spot the towering man in a scuffle. He stands with his arms crossed, clearly having the time of his life. You can barely see him, but that much is obvious.

Now the woman that stands in front of him is anything but that. Her face is scrunched up in ways you didn’t think possible. And judging by how she looks, she’s screaming at him. Her getup suggests a rich heiress, and there’s only one of that here from what you remember of the guest list.

Miss Andrea Crimson, the only child and heir of one of the many gangs in the N109 zone. But the Crimsons were different; they’ve been here the longest, have one of the farthest reaches, and are infamously ruthless to the point where even Sylus and you cringe.

People have died by that girl’s command for the smallest infractions. Her father gives into her every whim. And there were rumors of there being a second child that was pushed out of the family because of her jealousy.

She also has a history with your boss. Once in love him, now full of a hatred you can almost admire for how deep it runs. To Sylus, she’s a nuisance he can’t get rid of; to you, she’s yet another obstacle for you to conquer.

You politely excuse yourself to Kai, who waves you off while sipping her drink. She watches you go, though. From interest in what you’re doing, or the commotion you’re going to, you don’t know. Either way, that little bit of attention she’s paying to you will work out in your favor.

Once you arrive at Sylus’ side, you’re not given much of an opportunity to speak.

”What?” Andrea spits at you. “You his new toy, now?”

That pisses you off. Originally, you were going approach this woman with kindness, respect. A little firmness, but nothing too crazy.

That goes out the expensive, decorated window to moment she addresses you as a toy. Maybe because of that phase you had as a late teen, throwing yourself at anyone as some poor way of getting the love you crave? Maybe because you’ve worked in several places that saw you as a mere decoration?

Or maybe it’s because of what she said says about Sylus? Your new boss is harsh, but fair. Terrifying, yet reliable. And hearing her say that, imply that he treats lives and people so cheap, chips at your very soul.

Moments like these make you wonder if your lack of soulmate makes you care so much, or you were stripped of one because you’d care for others more than them.

”Oh, get a hold of yourself, Andrea. I and many others do not have the time for to interrupting important business because this man would not fuck you.”

That shuts her up quickly. But you’re not finished.

”I get that you’ve gotten everything you’ve ever wanted in life until he said no to you. The drugs. The money that keeps coming despite all your failed businesses. The multiple affairs, some of which whose spouses are here. Even the murder of your own sibling was covered up for you." 

You speak these words with certainty and authority as you get closer to Andrea. Her expression drops, and the blood drains from her face. Her dark skin doesn’t blush, but you can practically feel the warmth from her body.

”How did you…”

”I know more, Andrea,” you speak quieter, in her ear. “I know that you’ve stolen every little accomplishment from them. I know you framed them as the problem child while you were the perfect daughter. I know you stole their voice from them. And I know why you’ve really come here.”

”Why…”

”Do you really want me to spell it out for you? Surely there’s enough of a brain in that head of yours to not want to hear it?"

She trembles, and you relish in it.

”What do you want?”

”Leave my boss and me alone, and I’ll consider keeping my mouth shut. Because you have a treasure trove of secrets that I’ll be happy to spill if you don’t.”

Andrea shuffles away, head still hung up high despite her embarrassment. You can respect her for that much.

A slow clap from behind you causes you to drag your eyes away from her.

”Nicely done, Miss Diplomat,” Sylus’ ever present grin both amuses and frustrates you.

”I wouldn’t have had to do that if you’d have learned to keep that mouth of yours shut.”

”What would be the fun in that, sweetie?”

You internally roll your eyes at the foolish man before you. But, you plaster on your best customer service smile on the outside.

“Anyone ever told you that you’re far too aggressive?” Your tone is sickly sweet.

“Any suggestions I don’t consider are filed under “never heard of it”. Besides, you handled yourself quite well.” 

“Only because I must in order to keep your organization from collapsing and from you being constantly on everyone’s most wanted list. And if anything I tell you to do is in that “never heard of it” file, I will being killing you myself.” 

Maybe your conversations with Kai have made you stupidly bold. You mentally scold yourself for being so… insolent. But Sylus just seems to find the whole thing hilarious, so you relax.

At least you can have fun with your new boss. Even if he does tend to like threatening you. A lot.

“After all that effort you went through not only to get me to let you work with me, but also today?” 

“It’s all a part of my elaborate scheme.” 

“What scheme?”

“One filed under “Sylus is not privy to this.” Deal with it.”

He chuckles at you. Then, his tone takes on a more serious one.

”How do things with Kai fare?”

”Swimmingly, all things considered.”

”And what things are you considering?”

”You,” you say before leaving. You can hear Sylus laughing again as you do.

The journey back to Kai is a quick one, with people already back to their normal business as if nothing had happened. Perhaps because most of them see drama like this every other day.

”Apologies,” you say to Kai as soon as you get behind the bar again. “But I simply could not let such a woman make a scene at your gala. And my boss certainly wasn’t doing anything to stop her.”

”It’s fine. I invited Sylus because he attracts drama and entertainment like that. For some reason, people are too afraid to say things like that to my face."

Because you’re far more dangerous than even Sylus, you think.

Kai’s reputation is even more brutal than Sylus’. Drowning entire companies in deserts. Creating jewelry from the bones of those she’s killed. Driving people to suicide with her voice alone. Even rumors of cannabalism.

The woman is deadly, terrifying. But, for good reason.

”Well… no matter how entertaining he is, there’s a limit to how much I’m willing to stand being thrown at him. He may not be swayed by anyone’s opinion of him, but I sure am.”

Your words are flowery, targeting what you know of what Kai feels towards her spouse. There’s tinges of worry in her thread. There’s brief flashes of her mystery spouse being a doormat, and the fear that incites. Time after time, the person she loves lets their family walk over them.

Your words strike that cold heart of hers. Strike at the very core of who she is, and honestly, who you are: a protector. Because those flowery words weren’t just that. They were the honest truth.

You’re grateful to Sylus. You’ll never say that to his face, but you are. For this new job. For the freedom he allows you. For the bits of kindness he shows like ordering things you like to eat to the base or giving you the latest tools for jewelry making or giving you a rare gem or entertaining your drink mixing hobby.

Because despite how he threatens you, he still manages to treat you well. Which is far more than any of your previous bosses did.

”You care an awful lot for a man you haven’t worked with for long.”

You don’t ask how she knows this. Kai probably has an extensive information network, and she’s not stupid. With her history with Sylus, if you weren’t new, she would’ve met you sooner.

So you don’t ask that. No need to insult a woman who would, without hesitation, smash the glass in her hand to slit your throat and stain her pale skin a deep red. She’s killed over less.

”Do I need a reason to care for another? It’d be a lonely existence without it.”

”Yes it would,” she mumbles with the most emotion you’ve heard from her all night.

Once again, you tap into Kai’s deeper feelings. There’s a sense of loneliness that permeates her thread. An aching, festering, loneliness not unlike your own.

There’s a weight to that loneliness. One of responsibility. One of duty. And one of longing. Again, so similar to you, yet so different.

Part of you thinks that this why your boss and her don’t get along. Because they feel like they’re staring into a mirror.

You, on the other hand, take that similarity in stride. It’s another way for you to connect to your target.

”Why’re ya taking such an indirect approach to getting what you want from me? After all, ya clearly know ye way around getting to know people and their secrets. Why not use mine against me?"

Kai’s voice is back to her usual flat tone. Her body language is lax, but blank. She gives nothing away to normal people.

But you aren’t normal people. You see her thread, a piece of her soul leaking into your field of vision. And it tells you the real story.

It tells of wariness, of woman scorned and burned by kindness in the past. It tells of broke promises and what that did to her family. 

It tells of hopefulness, of her praying that maybe you’ll be different from the rest. It tells of how the logical side of her wants to squash that hope and snuff it out before it can see the light of day.

You appeal to that part of her, “Such methods aren’t needed here.”

”Why?”

”Because a deal made with you that’s not in good faith isn’t a deal at all. And as I said before, I'd rather our deal come out of one of good faith than deceit. That, and because both parties already have bad blood, and you deserve more than some silly scare tactics.”

”Besides,” you laugh a bit. “I doubt such a thing would work on someone like you. Andrea has nothing real in her life, nothing for her to hold on to, hence why I scared her. You do, Mrs. Kerr. And that makes you all the more fierce and all the more respectable.”

”Still on with te flattery, ya?"

She hides it well, but you can tell she has a storm of emotions at how well you read her. Fear for her spouse. A bit of awe at you and your continued boldness. Skepticism.

”It’s my greatest weapon,” you smile. “And it’ll work on you, I’m sure.”

Kai swirls the rim of her drink with her fingertip.

”And why do you believe that?”

”Because you and Sylus ultimately want the same thing: change to the N109 zone.”

Kai finally finishes her drink and turns her full attention to you.

”Why do you think that of someone like me? Surely you’ve heard the rumors?”

You almost laugh at her words. Because despite her coldness, her endless cruelty, and the way Kai carries herself... you know what she really wants.

You know her type well. You know how scarred her heart is. You know how much the child in her cries with every person she protects.

Because why was there no one like her when she was a child? Why did no one protect the little girl who grew up too fast?

”Simple. Because you’re capable of love.”

Kai has nothing to say after that. Her face is still cold. Her body is still relaxed and not giving anything away. But you know you’ve struck a chord with her.

She keeps her eyes away from yours. Perhaps because they’re so expressive despite the icy chill she tries to keep in them?

You follow her eyes. You follow her eyes as they follow someone in the gala, one that walks not too far from where the two of you sit..

They flicker. They flicker like Kai did earlier that night, and the night you first met Sylus. But they don’t show draconic traits like your boss did, nor the scales or tattoos the woman before you did.

No. This person flickers with machines. Armor and mechanical wiring crawling across their skin. Black, deep black, twined with silver. A destructive weapon in their hand.

A voice calls out from them.

”Run X-02,” it calls. “Run.”

You blink, and it’s all gone. Vanishing in a flash, but still so disturbing that it makes you feel nauseous. Because while Kai and Sylus flickers were shocking, they weren’t so… empty.

Devoid of any feeling. A machine. A weapon. A being whose parts were carved out time and time again until nothing remained but the single order to obey.

You could feel your heart pound despite your effort to calm down. You focus on the current details of the person: dark skin, black hair with streaks of silver that remind you of the stars.

No calm comes from looking at them. Because Kai has decided to make them a cyborg for their themed outfit. That, coupled with you and Sylus’ own get up, made you wonder if she knew. If she knew of the shapes certain people's souls once held. If she knew that person was an android once, just like Sylus was once a fiend.

”You seem awfully distracted.”

”Apologies.”

”No, it’s fine,” Kai waves you off, tilting her head before the whisper of a smile appears on her lips. “You’ve had to deal with a lot for your first outing with Sylus. Why not visit the gardens? My spouse takes great care of maintaining it.”

You want to take her up on the offer. To escape into nature and just settle down your thoughts and racing heart. But you can’t. You have a job to do.

”As much as I appreciate your offer, I—“

”I insist. You wouldn’t want to disobey an order from your host, now would you."

”No. No I would not, Mrs. Kerr.”

”Good.” 

She gives you the directions to the gardens. And you memorize them easily.

As you leave your station to go where she commands, you notice her glide her way to Sylus and other guests. And judging how their threads behave, you figure Kai’s in a good mood.

You think about her as you meander around her mansion. Priceless artworks are casually on display in the hallway, all of the same artist. Rafayel. You recognize his style from your auction days.

The second you see the garden, you let out a huge sigh. It’s gorgeous. Sprawling rows upon rows of flowers that you were sure were extinct. 

Towering trees that reach to the sky, their branches home to many birds. You swear you see Mephisto among them.

Whinding pathways that are easy to follow, but you can get lost because of the sheer beauty that surrounds it.

You’re in awe that such a place can exist in the N109 Zone. There’s no sunlight for these plants to gain nutrients from. So how are they growing?

Placing a hand on one of the trees, you dig into them. Plants don’t have souls, or at least, not in the way that humans and Wanderers do. They have no threads of fate. They have no real desires, fears, or secrets.

But you can speak to them on occasion. If they’re old enough.

You’re drawn to one tree, and it’s the one you place a hand on. All you get is the flashing image of the person you saw earlier, the one Kai was staring at and the one whose past emanated such emptiness.

You see them and another tending to this garden. The only thing you can make out from the other is they’re a man and he feels like sunshine. He and the person from the party are what made the plants grows.

You wander further into the garden. Birds chirp. Foxes scatter about. Gentle winds sway. And, eventually, you run into another person. It’s the one from the tree’s memory, and from the party. It’s the former android. They’re crouched on the ground, grass and dirt crawling up their fancy clothes.

The moment you see them up close, you feel bad about your early assumptions and how you let their past life cloud your judgement. Because this person has one of the most beautiful souls you’ve ever seen.

They feel like nature itself. Like all the plants, animals, and maybe even planets themselves have been meshed together to create one person. They’re thread glows with a kind of compassion and gentleness you’ve never seen from another.

Their thread is weaved together by sorrow, love, and hope. And in that love lies someone familiar: Kai. This is her spouse. This is the person she’s willing to do anything for.

Every plan you had for this meeting goes out the window. They stare at you with their tender green eyes for a moment before they reach into their pocket for something. 

A pen and notepad comes out. You’re left there, just watching this person write something down before they rip off the slip and hand it to you.

”I’m sorry if I frightened you,” it reads. “I’m Alex, and this is my garden.”

Alex stays on the ground. You introduce yourself with your own name, and they nod.

”Can I help you? You seem in need of some assistance.”

Alex blinks at you. You offer a shaky smile. They think for a moment before standing, and you’re able to see into the bushes they were previously sheilding.

A wolf cub, hardly old enough to be away from its mother, trembles in the bushes. Clearly injured—one of its ribs is poking out of its side—,malnourished, and dripping wet. In short, its condition is horrible.

Alex is writing again. You let your palm out from them to give it to you once you see they’ve finished this time.

”I found her a few hours ago on a trip outside the zone. Poor thing was on her own and stuck under the corpuses of her slaughtered family, probably for days. She was unconscious, and her rib ripped through her skin when she woke up in a strange place. I’ve tried calming her down, but nothing seems to work.”

The sorrow in Alex’s words is evident, even if they aren’t using their voice. Their expression falls, eyes downcast and fists clenched in frustration. They’re so open with their emotions. It’s a sharp contrast to their wife’s way of doing things.

”How about I try? You’d have to relay my intentions, but I’d like to think of myself as quite good at persuading others.”

Treating a wolf cub like any other customer or dealer wasn’t something you thought you’d ever do in your life. But, the poor baby needs help. And it’ll make Alex happy.

Already attached to them within 30 seconds of meeting them.

Another paper is put into your hands, "Why?"

”Because I’d hate to see her suffer more. She deserves some kindness after what she’s been through.”

Part of you wonders if you’re still speaking about the wolf cub. And judging by their reaction, Alex thinks the same.

Deep down, you believe the same about Kai. A girl forced to step up at a young age and raise her little brother.

A woman who became a monster to protect those she loves and what remains of her people.

A woman who time and time again has forced herself to carry insurmountable burdens.

And maybe, you too, can relate to this. Maybe you also deserve some kindness after all you’ve been through. And maybe, just maybe… that’s the real reason you got this job.

To distract yourself, you do what you do best: you talk. You talk and Alex relays and repeat. Until, finally, the little cub walks out and into Alex’s arms.

They get to work immediately. You use the little one’s soul to soothe her, guiding the pup to sleep while Alex mends her fur and resets her bones.

They also summon a large falcon to perch on one of their arms. In its beak it carries a milk bottle that Alex lets the little one drink from when you coax her out of a deep sleep.

You two stand in silence for a bit. The falcon occasionally squawks.

It takes the notepad into its beak, and Alex writes, “Would you like to stay longer? I’m sorry, but I really should be heading back.”

”As should I. My foolish boss might be making a mess again.”

Alex smiles, and you both begin your walk back. They still cradle the wold cub in their arms. The falcon flies just slightly overhead. The trees and plants seem to lean and reach out to Alex as the two of you walk by.

More animals begin to join. A white tiger follows closely on their heels. A polar bear walks beside you (and it takes everything in you to remain calm). Both a crocodile and an alligator walk in front of you.

As a result of this, your re-entrance to the party turns many heads. Some afraid. Some in shock. And one enraged: Andrea. She says nothing. She just glares at Alex while they look down in embarrassment.

You reach your boss and Kai quickly. The falcon swoops down again with the notepad, Alex writes, and hands it to Kai. She reads it quickly.

She taps a fork on her glass, "Alright. I'm calling an end to tonight’s gathering. Get the fuck out before I feed you to one of these fine creatures."

Kai pets the head of the tiger and polar bear as she speaks. People hurry out. But the gaze that Kai and Alex give you and Sylus roots the two of you in place.

Kai turns to Sylus, “I’ll work with you.”

He immediately turns to you and whispers. “Seems your first job went well.”

”I told you my method would work,” you grin.

”Aww, but mine’s more effective and time-saving, sweetie. We’ve been here for far too long.”

”It hasn’t even been an hour, you big baby.”

His eyes widen at the insult, "You've become quite bold."

”I just talked to a supposed cannibal who also happens to be someone with a body count many times higher than yours and who’s been killing since she was mostly likely around the age of 5. I’m allowed to have a little bit of attitude.”

”Whatever you say.”

”And about your “method”… mine’s clearly superior to it. And better in the long run. Evidenced by how a woman who hates you is now working with you.”

”And how exactly did you do that?”

”Through her spouse. A spouse you didn’t tell me about,” you lightly gesture to Alex. Kai and them are too busy chatting to notice you do so.

”Forgot to mention them."

"No you didn't," your whisper becomes harsher with annoyance at his obvious lie. "And you did that on purpose."

Sylus' grin widens, "And why do you think that?"

Your own smile mirrors his, “It’s written all over your face.”

Sylus just laughs.

”You finished?” Kai calls out, eyebrow raised.

You two turn your full attention to her again.

”Good,” she continues. “Now, we have one condition for our business deal to go forward.”

Sylus crosses his arms. “And that would be?"

”She will be our communication. Our liaison, so to speak,” and she points at you. You snap back to the present when a hand touches your forearm. It’s Miss Hunter, and her haul of protocores.

“For someone who was so hesitant not so long ago, you’ve spent quite a lot.”

Miss Hunter ignores your words, worry lining her expression. “You okay? You were spacing out…”

Her eyes look you up and down.

“I’m not going to collapse again, sweetie. I’m quite alright.”

You give her a smile to sell the whole thing, your little act. Because what else could you tell her? That you were drowning in memories of a simpler time?

I’m fine, Miss Hunter. Just thinking about the past, before I fell in love with your soulmate and I was just an employee under him.

You couldn’t say that. For so many reasons.

Due to those reasons, you try to focus on the world around you, and anchor yourself in the present. People dancing around you, minding their own business and lost in their own worlds.

You have half the mind to join them. That is until some men start badgering Miss Hunter. And, strangely, you’re thankful for it. They’re a welcome distraction.

You quickly place yourself between the men and Miss Hunter, shielding her from their eyes and their grabby hands. However, you don’t get even a word out of your mouth before a familiar voice interrupts.

“Her schedule’s full.”

Sylus comes up behind the men. They scatter upon his arrival. Their departure allows you to get a good look at your boss. He looks pissed.

Arms crossed tightly against his chest and scowl evident on his face, he watches the men leave you all in disgust. He looks like an animal ready to pounce. The dragon in him is bubbling to the surface, appalled and enraged someone dared to get so close to his treasure.

Will he be that way with me in future? Or is he already that way, raging at the mere idea of me being near his soulmate?

You speak because any more thoughts like that, and you might begin to cry.

“That was quick."

Sylus' expression relaxes upon hearing your voice, “You know how I detest wasting my time on boring things. The meeting was predictably that, so I wanted to speed things up.”

“You sure that’s not because you were worried?”

You say the words in jest, but part of you truly hopes he was worried. Not for you, but for her. For his soulmate. For his destined love. For his sorceress and the only woman worthy of him. Because if that’s the case, well… you have all the more reason to leave.

You can justify that voice in your head that screams at you to run if he cares for her. If he cares for her more than you, that is.

“Worried about what, sweetie? You can handle yourself just fine. And I know a little extra baggage won’t hinder you.”

Miss Hunter, for some odd reason, doesn’t comment on his obvious dig. You give her a look. She looks away, almost like she’s embarrassed.

There’s something going on between them again.

You brush it off. Last time you got involved in their drama, it didn’t end well for you. No use in you sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.

Because of how lost in your thoughts you are, you almost don’t hear Sylus’ next words, “Care to dance?”

You don’t look at him because you expect his hand to be stretched out to Miss Hunter. You do look at her again because she’d need someone to hold her bunch of protocores. But she just gestures her head at Sylus, and you turn to him in confusion.

Sylus hand extends to you . Not his soulmate that carries a mound of protocores.

You hesitate. But something in his eyes compels you to take his hand, so you do so in the next moment. Sylus gives you a precious look as he whisks you away. Miss Hunter gives you a small thumbs up, and you don’t know how you feel about that.

Sylus and you easily fall into a rhythm with one another. Years and years of familiarity shadows all your earlier turmoil. You can just embrace his touch, his scent, and his care with no reservations. Each step to the music, choreographed but comforting.

Sylus leans in to whisper in your ear, “Sherman has been taken care of, Gamayun.”

That brings a smile to your face. A sick, twisted, and evil smile that you tend not to show. But Sherman had it coming.

He betrayed you. He hurt Miss Hunter and took her family from her. He got himself into this mess. And you only wished you’ve could’ve been there to rip out his soulmate thread, one attached to a woman who was long gone.

“Good. You better not have been quick about his punishment. Otherwise, I’m going to have to drag him out of his grave.”

Sylus spins you, and pulls you close for a moment.

“So aggressive.”

“I’m taking your advice: anything I don’t consider is filed under “never heard of it”, and I definitely don’t consider myself aggressive.”

He releases you and you step back.

“Then what do you consider this?”

“My bleeding heart acting up again.”

The two of you step into the back and forth dance again, box steps and making circles around the dance floor.

“Your bleeding heart gets you into far too much trouble.”

“Better than the trouble your loose lips gets us both in.”

“And what trouble are you referring to, exactly?”

“Kai,” you begin to list off. “That old records dealer in Siberia. That one arms dealer in Canada. James.”

Sylus’ face makes a strange expression at James’ name.

“Still hung up on that man?”

“That man,” you tease, speaking directly into Sylus’ ear when you get closer. “Would’ve been quite a help to our business.”

“You sure your interest in him isn’t personal?”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he sounded jealous. But a quick glance behind him at Miss Hunter, protocores taken away by some of Onychinus men, gets you to give up that idea.

Why would he be jealous when he has her?

“Guess we’ll never know,” is all you can get out.

You and Sylus dance in silence for a bit longer, a beautiful display of your synergy. You keep looking for Miss Hunter at any given opportunity. Her presence reminds you of your place. She reminds you that despite the inherent intimacy of this dance, you will never get more.

You’ll never get what you truly want.

“You see, this is why I worry whenever your bleeding heart acts up,” Sylus suddenly says.

“Why?”

Your voice sounds airy. You cringe at the sound, hoping Sylus doesn't notice how it wavers.

What is wrong with me?

“Because despite me being right in front of you, your eyes are focused on her.”

You feel so hot. Your head is in such a fog.

“And you care about that because…”

Sylus pulls you in close, closer than any other previous time. You two no longer dance, and his arm is tightly wound around your waist.

When he begins to lean in, your heart pounds and your stomach flutters. It's a thumping bass that drowns out all other conversations and music around you. All you can hear is your heart. All you can smell is his cologne.

All you can see is him.

Warmth flutters and circulates through your body. A warm that whispers comfort and safety. A warmth that draws you into Sylus just as he draws into you.

This warmth calls to you. Beckons you. It smuthers all the guilt, denial, and determination to stay the course.

It says, kiss him, kiss him.

“Don’t you know by now that I adore you?” He mutters into your ear.

The two of you just stare at one another. The world stops dead in its tracks. Because did he really just say that? With his sultry voice that glides over your ears and sends shivers down your spine and makes your legs tremble and causes you to be so very weak? With a softness in his eyes you’ve never before in your life?

No. I’ve seen it somewhere.

It’s how Kai looked at Alex and vice versa. It’s how James would look when he talked about his lost love. It’s how so many soulmates would look at their other half.

But, that couldn’t be true, could it?

Your eyes are deceiving you. Because Sylus is leaning in closer to you. His scent becomes stronger and your body become warmer. You don’t care about anything else around you. All that matters is him and you and your pounding heart.

It’s like you’re waiting for something, studying him to be prepared for what it is. You’re still, as if any movement will scare him off or make him change his mind about whatever he's about to do.

And, for a moment, you swear you see him glance at your lips. You stop yourself from breathing. You, stupidly, lean into him.

Your brain screams at you to stop. Your heart sings for you to move faster, to get what you've wanted for so long. You listen to your heart.

You cup Sylus' cheeks. You tilt your head to the side. And that heart of yours—that foolish, foolish muscle—is so very loud that it consumes all your senses.

All you feel is your heart. All you see is your heart. All you taste is your heart.

What would Sylus taste like?

The thought is indecent. It's a fantasy. It's a trap. It's something you should never want, never think about, never wonder about.

But it's the siren song that pulls you in. It's what makes you tenderly glide your tongue against your lips as Sylus draws you closer.

That seems to break Sylus out of whatever trance he’s in, and his hand leaves your waist. You drop your hands from his cheeks when he does.

And just like that, the warmth in you is sucked away, as if his hands were the supplier of it. Your heart still envelopes you, consumes you. But no longer do you think about the taste of Sylus.

You perse your lips together, your mind conjuring the image of something else pressing against them. You blink several times, still in awe at all that did—and didn't—happen.

Am I… disappointed?

That’s ridiculous. You knew from the moment you fell for Sylus nothing would ever happen between the two you. You knew that, and you told yourself that everyday when your urge to kiss him or cuddle him especially close or flirt with him became too much.

To distract yourself, you ask, “How long until the bombs go off?”

Sylus doesn't seem affected by the strange atmosphere that was between you two. He gives you that familiar arrogant and confident smile.

But there's a glimmer in his eye. A glimmer that tells you so much and so little. You don't dare look at his thread in case there's more confusion there.

“Why do you assume I’m doing that, Gamayun?”

Because, unfortunately, I know you all too well.

“Because it’s you, Sylus. Now, when do they go off? I need to warn Miss Hunter.”

A sudden explosion is the last thing she needs. You couldn't bare to see her buckle under the weight of such panic, of such grief and pain.

Miss Hunter hides her grief well. But, it peaks out occasionally. Sometimes when she laughs just a bit too much. Other times when she looks at Sylus, for some reason.

Her suffering is palpable to everyone at the base. You've all collectively decided to pretend you don't see it and let her shield her fragile heart.

Because, otherwise... she'll shatter. She'll shatter and break and fall apart into so many pieces that not even expert crafters like you and Sylus could put her back together.

And no matter how her existence breaks your heart, you could never—will never—wish such a thing on her. No for any reason. Not even if she begins to hate you. Not even if she turns you in to the Hunter's Association.

And certainly not even when she ineviably takes away the man you love for good.

Sylus' response brings you out of your spiral, “I’ll come tell you when it’s time.”

He brings you close one last time, pressing a kiss on your forehead and murmuring, “I do love that heart of yours.”

You speed walk away. Body and mind in turmoil. Frustration. Embarrasment. Hope.

You can't control yourself. It feels odd, considering how composed you normally are. Control is everything to you. Control is literally your job and your life.

Right now, you're anything but that. You're flustered from head to toe, still feeling the ghost of Sylus' lips on your ear and forehead. You have to actively stop yourself from touching those places.

His lips were so soft. Softer than you ever imagined on those rare days you let yourself indulge in the fantasy of a future with him. How much softer would they have been against your own? Would he kiss you gently with those lips?

Or would he be rough, possessive? Like he's trying to claim your lips as your own?

You feel hot all over again just imagining it: his arm on your waist becoming tighter, his other hand gripping the back of your head, his hot breath against your lips when he dives in for more...

You want to scream at your own vivid fantacies. Thoughts and images so vivid, you can almost feel them.

His arm around you, muscles tensing on your hips as he tries to pull you impossibly closer to him.

His hand on your back, fingers spread wide and holding you in place, but featherlight as to not hurt you.

His other hand on the back of your head, making sure he's getting the perfect angle to kiss you.

His lips on yours, trying to mold them to his. Tongue in your mouth, eyes with blown pupils on you when he backs up for air, and whispered sweet nothings that only you can hear that spill out for a moment before he dives in for more.

For more of you.

What the devil is wrong with me?

Your walk to Miss Hunter feels like an eternity with the company of your delusions.

The moment you’re by Miss Hunter’s side, your embarrassment multiples. You were just fantisizing about her soulmate, her other half, and the man she will one day marry.

She wears a shit-eating grin.

“Sooo, what was that about?”

“What was what about?” You attempt to deflect.

“Don’t give me that,” she rolls her eyes at you. “I may not be as smart as you, but I do have eyes.”

“Don’t insult yourself like that,” your defense of her comes out before you can really think about it.

“You’re dodging the issue.”

She turns to face the dance floor. Or, rather, where Sylus stands near it. Just the sight of him makes you feel all warm and fuzzy again.

”Don’t you know by now that I adore you?”

”I do love that heart of yours.”

And just like that, you’re flustered again.

“Dance with me,” you blurt out, escaping from Sylus’ line of sight and dragging Miss Hunter behind you.

Miss Hunter giggles, grin still on her face. You can practically hear the teasing questions and words that beg to fall off her lips.

Is this what it’s like to have friends?

Your social life took a dive years ago, far before you met Sylus. After your best friends in high school ditched you for each and their new love, reaching out for companionship was… hard, to say the least.

Kai and Alex filled that void for some time. The three of you stopped talking about a year ago for some reason. Kai’s been very quiet in the “business” world since then. And Alex has always preferred to stay out of the spotlight, so you didn’t worry much when they dropped off the grid.

They were, and still are, probably two of your closest friends. People who get not only the lighter side of you—the one with a bleeding heart—but the dark side, the lonely one with a cynical out look on love.

But, as much as you love them, they are anything except normal. Kai’s killed more people than anyone you’ve ever met. Alex prefers the call of nature to the voices of humans. They both carry pains you couldn’t even begin to understand.

You love them. You love Sylus. You love the twins. But, you need some reprieve from your bloodstained world.

Miss Hunter appears to be the key to that. Someone who reminds you of the good in the world, rather than the bad parts you’re determined to destroy. Someone who reminds you of that innocent little girl you once were before you got your powers (ironic, given that she’s more or less a symbol of everything your powers have taken from you).

She’s a kind and gentle soul, one who hasn’t been stained by the world and still believes in good. She reminds you of Alex.

But unlike Alex, Miss Hunter is fierce. Unwavering. And because of that, you couldn’t ask for a better soulmate for the love of your life.

Imagining her and Sylus together still hurts. It still claws into your heart and shreds it without mercy. But, in a little corner of your heart, there’s joy. There’s happiness for your new friend and the man you love.

Because no one else could make each other as happy as the other will. You’ve seen it time and time again.

As for her other soulmates… well, they aren’t your problem. You’ll deal with that problem too once you come to it.

“Still thinking about your boss?” Miss Hunter pipes up, her tone teasing and lighter than you’ve ever heard it.

Yes.

You still feel his touch, phantom imprints. You still want more of his touch, the ghost of his taste still on your tongue. You want more and more and more.

But you will never have it. You need to remember that. All you'll ever have is the dreams and nightmares of that with Sylus.

And your dreams are meant to be crushed. They're meant to be broken beyond repair. Why should someone deemed by the universe unfit for love be able to dream?

Why should they be able to wish, to wonder?

Why am I allowed to live?

“What ever are you talking about?”

Stepping into your usual role is all you can do to make the thoughts stop.

“Seriously? You’re pretending not to know again?”

No. I just don't want to know. I don't want to remember my mistakes and my errors and my stupidity, and my—

“Why don’t just spit it out?” You quip back with a smile.

“Fine,” she huffs as you twirl her. “You and Sylus—well, mostly Sylus—it’s obvious you're in love.”

“You’re still on about that?”

You thought you cleared this up earlier. Your stomach twists at the thought. Having Sylus’ soulmate believe the two of you are in love, and not just extremely close is a problem. A huge problem.

“And you’re still in denial about that? I mean, come on! He looked like he was going to kiss you. I had my imaginary popcorn out and everything!”

“You’re ridiculous,” she giggles as you pull her close. “Preposterous. Delusional.”

“I know what you are, but what am I?” You roll your eyes at her.

“His friend and employee. Not his soulmate.”

The word “soulmate” causes a shadow to fall over her eyes.

“How… are you so sure?”

You want to laugh.

Because I can see it. I see how your souls are tied together. I see how he’ll love you and only you through every lifetime. I see how I’m merely a footnote in your love story.

You, of course say none of that, and can only say, “I just do.”

The cheery and playful atmosphere dissipates between the two of you. You stop dancing and you guide her away from the dance floor to somewhere more hidden. You don’t know what to say.

The airy and warm feeling you had early is gone, sapped away by your own stupid words and your own stupid love. Why, oh why, did you have to do this to yourself?

Maybe part of you loves the pain of a broke heart?

The tap on your shoulder comes as a welcomed distraction.

“60 seconds,” is all his whispers in your ear before he goes off to talk to other people.

For once, you’re grateful for Sylus’ tendency to do big shows of power. The ensuing chaos and combat will keep your mind occupied.

“What was that?” Miss Hunter inquires, tilting her head at you.

“A heads up I requested,” her expression pushes you to answer further. “Sylus has a flare for dramatics. And those dramatics tend to involve explosions.”

You continue in a much gentler tone, “I know an explosion took your family. Springing one on you isn’t very polite, so I asked Sylus to give me a heads up.”

Miss Hunter trembles. You hold her close.

“Thank you,” she whispers, trying to sound brave.

“No need,” you check your phone for the time. “We have about 30 seconds. Ready?”

“Does it matter if I’m not?”

You sigh. “I suppose not.”

The seconds tick down. Miss Hunter’s breath is shaky. You feel her heart pound in her chest. You squeeze her even closer to you. You count each breath, and remind her to stay calm.

Then, it comes. Multiple explosions rock the building. People scream. Some are crushed, while others die in a blaze. Others still are picked off by the twins or Sylus himself.

You don’t focus on them. You focus on keeping Miss Hunter shielded and calm. Her heartbeat is out of control, so you mess with her threads a bit. Just small nudges to keep her tranquil, to remind of her of better times.

The whole thing is done in an instant. Sylus casually walks over to check on her.

“You alright, sweetie?”

“She will be. Give her time,” you snap.

Sylus laughs, sticking his thumbs into his pockets, “I meant you, silly.”

He takes a hand out to flick your forehead when he says the stupid nickname.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

You brush him off because today has been just a bit too much. Your hear has always been weak to Sylus, but you've never had such real... material in your mind.

You've never thought of how he would kiss you. You've never thought about how he would touch you in throes of such intimacy. You've never let your thoughts get so far.

But that look in his eyes when you two danced. That look he gave you before you went to Miss Hunter... it gives you ideas. Foolish, unrealistic, and dangerous ideas.

“Because I seem to recall you prioritizing helping our guest over your own safety.”

He leans over Miss Hunter who was still buried in your arms, and tilts your head so that he could get a better look.

“Look, your face is bleeding.”

His touch makes you feel hot all over again. It gets worse when you remember how it made your imagination run wild.

You can almost pretend you're somewhere else. Somewhere private. Somewhere where this simple touch on the chin to look at your cuts and bruises could become something else.

Your knees almost buckle. But you hold it together.

“Minor cuts, you fool. I’ve had worse.”

“And that makes that better because…?”

“…Shut your mouth.”

“Or else what? You’ll shut it for me?”

You flush at the implications. Sylus’ smirk tells you that he meant it in the way you’re thinking of. Your heart rate picks up again. You’re warm all over. And there’s this sense of… anticipation and hunger as you stare at one another.

That warmth is back. It begs to take a chance, a leap of faith. It screams at you to just grab his neck and finally have what you've craved for so long.

“Could you please not flirt so close to me?” Miss Hunter mumbles.

You almost scream. But the crushing guilt keeps you silent. Her words remind you of your place, of the line you've been treading far too close to.

You step back from Sylus. Miss Hunter is no longer buried in you, so she doesn't follow.

You ignore her question because you have no way of really responding, “How are you holding up?”

“Fine,” she grumbles. “Let’s finish this.”

You guide her to the rooftop, glancing at Sylus to be sure he follows. He shakes his head.

“I’ll clean up here. You go.”

“I seem to recall that she’s your guest.”

He shrugs, “she likes you more.”

You splutter. Then, you let yourself hug him and whisper in his ear, "Be safe, Morana."

You follow Miss Hunter up to the rooftop as quick as you can. The sharp winds in your face make the burn of emotions dampen down. That, and the giant Wanderer that roars above.

“Stay back!” She yells over the racket, shooting at the foe. “You don’t have an Evol, right?! It’s dangerous!”

“Ever the diligent Hunter, protecting civilian, eh?”

“Now’s not the time for jokes!”

“The only joke here is that you think me,, of all people, need protection!”

The fight against the Wanderer is short. After all, Wanderers were once people. They had souls and threads for you to mess with. So you help her, weaving threads and shooting after she handed you one of her guns.

You hand it back as you walk to the pedestal that held the Aether Core, beckoning her to that the power that belongs to her. And you watch her threads react.

You never really paid attention to Miss Hunter’s Aether Core, not when they were more pressing issues at hand. None of this issues exist now in this moment.

Now, you can. Her glitching threads that emerge from it. The strange energy that flows from it, an energy that seems to call to you. It tries to drag you in, to swallow you.

You don’t know why.

And when the energy from the new core begins to leak out into her, the very universe shifts around you.

You hear her heartbeats, and your own heart seems to sync with it. Thump. Thump. Thump. A resonate of sounds that are so familiar yet so foreign.

And underneath those thumps, there’s a hum. A song. A whisper of melody you’ve never heard before and can’t describe despite how it echoes in your brain.

It’s beautiful.

The sound is like home. Like a gentle kiss from your mother or the safe embrace of your father. Like the boisterous laugh of the twins or the comfortable touch of Sylus.

It brings a tear to your eye. With that tear comes visuals. Planets. Stars. Galaxies. They all lay over your eyes and block the vision of Miss Hunter taking the power of the new Aether Core.

So, so beautiful.

You think you can stay here forever, basking in that wonderful melody and the sights that it brings. But the moment the energy flow into Miss Hunter stops, it ends. A blip in time. A small moment of absolute peace.

Quickly wiping your face before she turns around, you snap out your trance. There’s things to be done, after all.

You do all the things needed to be done: help Sylus and the twins clean up, settle Miss Hunter, and escort her out of the N109 Zone.

“You should come visit me,” she says, bright smile on her face.

“Maybe I will…”

After all, what better fresh start is there than the city of the woman who drove me out? You take my place at Sylus’ side… maybe I’ll take yours in the Hunter Association.

It’ll be a sick, twisted, heartbroken exchange. One not equivalent in the slightest. For how can you compare a woman loved by many to one loved by none?

Author's Note: Also, please go to the original blurb to ask to be added to the taglist (it's impossible for me to keep checking every part every time I update).

2nd Author's Note: How long is too long for a chapter?

Taglist: @eolivy, @rafayelridesfisheatsfish, @animegamerfox, @jasperjokester, @schrodingerskimdokja, @just--crys, @snowdynasty, @shi-thats-kiera, @mansonofmadness, @dwuclvr, @ameilli, @katiedoesstuff101, @everythingistaken00, @napa-the-yappa, @hanaluxx, @lovesick-sylus, @tenaciouszombiewombat, @ladyparamount, @applepi405, @midnight-reverie, @69-gojos-wife-69, @bellagrayson-wayne, @phisen, @idkmanimjusthorny, @munchychuusy, @autumn2534, @poptrim, @sillyfreakfanparty, @zaynesfirefly, @flamedancer13, @thissmartdumbass, @mrsllawliet, @jeondyy, @ssetsuka, @dels-page, @that-lost-one, @johnnysactualgf, @mariquitas-en-verano, @toelady, @sinnamon-bunn, @yesbiaswrecked, @doggyteam2028, @little-rays-of-darkness, @albatrossblue, @vyntheria, @silverianni, @browneyedgirl22, @tiklestar, @beaconsxd, @pepperushia

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

How To Break In Your Darling 101

➾In Which: Soobin is head over heels for you and has no idea what to do. It's a good thing his big brother Yunho is there to guide him.

RATED X. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY.

❥Jeong Yunho x fem reader x Choi Soobin

➯a/n: @ramadiiiisme is to blame (thank ?!) for this !!! "hey have you noticed soobin looks a lot like he could be yunho's little bro-" STAAAAHP. where'd my pants go — hhhhhanyway !! this isn't the entirety of the story her and i had our feral conversation over, not in the slightest, so there is definitely going to be a part two (if anyone is even interested😖)

♡'･ᴗ･'♡genre: yandere, smut + non-con, DEAD DOVE. RIP. non-con disclaimer: non-con is NOT okay in real life. this is ONLY EVER acceptable in FICTIONAL settings (and even then it's fucked up)

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: where the fuck do i even start, platonic yandere big bro yunho x little bro soobin, yandere yunho x reader, yandere soobin x reader, sb and reader described as a few years younger than yh, captive reader, physical restraint, forced affection, unhealthy brother relationship (distinctly NOT incest tho), yunho is a MEAN control freak, like- he's a fucking sadist, slapping + hair pulling + spanking in a non sexual context, emotional manipulation (towards reader + soobin), conditioning + mind breaking, humiliation, name calling: bitch + brat, non-con and dub-con: shy but pervert virgin (not for long) soobin, dissociating, threats (of sexual violence, none get followed through on), monster cock runs in the family ig, sloppy blowjob + face fucking, cum eating, brief somno, kissing, spit, size difference, pet names: sweetheart, pretty girl, darling / yunie, sir / binie

♡masterlist + navigation !♡

₊‧⁺stardust˖⋆ @sunnysidesins @onyxmango @devilzliaison @ateezswonderland @queenofdumbfuckery @emilysecresy @kyomiingi @pansexual-and-eating-pancakes @klllerwaifu @seonghwasslytherin @yoonglesbae @wolviejex @estrnrea @lover-ofallthingspretty @willowwyy @jaerisdiction @peelingpaint-heavyheart @satsuri3su @bubbly-moon @hannahstacos @vipysl @hard-l0ver

18+, MINORS FIND THE NEAREST EXIT.

Lesson One: "Ground Rules"

Soobin should have known whenever his older brother asked "what will make you feel better?" when he was crying over his pathetic school-boy crush on you for the fifth time in a week. He should have said anything other than "I just want her to be with me.", because he knows Yunho would do anything to make him happy.

Maybe — well... truly, deep down, he did know what his brother was planning whenever he hugged him and kissed his head; telling him "Yunie will take care of it." But he will never admit it. Not even to himself.

Because then, he'd have to admit he's partially responsible for you now being tied up on his bed.

He stops in his tracks as he opens his door, eyes landing on your sleeping form; arms bound to your sides and legs roped together. His heart is in his throat and makes his voice come out strained as he calls, "Hyung...? Hyung!" He turns around quickly, yelping as he comes face to face with Yunho.

"Do you like your surprise?" Yunho grins, looking over his shoulder into the room, "awe, poor thing is still tuckered out."

Soobin eyes him with an unreadable mix of emotions storming in his gaze. Confusion, on the very surface — maybe a bit of fear that's coming with the realization that Yunho actually did what he thought he was going to. But just below that, a spark a joy.

"Did-" He breathes heavy, looking back over to you, "is she okay?" His first instinct is to know that, and his second is to pounce on the bed and finally hold you like he's wanted to for so long — but he restrains himself.

"Of course she's okay," Yunho says, a 'duh' like tone in his voice as he gestures the younger man into the room. He grabs your socked foot, shaking it lightly, "she's just tired from all of the crying she did when I grabbed her, I bet. Hey, wake up!"

Soobin's heart is about to leap out of his chest as you jump from your sleep. Your wide eyes are teary the second you open them, looking around frantically and stopping as you meet his stare. "Soo-"

Yunho cuts you off, an imposterishly sweet smile on his face as he looks between you, "aren't you happy, Binie? I told you I'd take care of it!"

Your eyes flick back and forth to each of them as they look at each other; like they're silently communicating.

Soobin bites on his cuticle, nodding his head towards you so lightly that you don't even notice. She's going to be scared of me now.

Yunho lifts his eyebrows, looking down at you briefly. Good.

Soobin shakes his head immediately. Not good, I want her to like me. I need her to love me.

Yunho sighs, rolling his neck out and rubbing it for a moment as Soobin starts tearing up. "Damn it-" He groans, closing the distance between them quickly and hugging him; cradling his head to his shoulder. "Don't cry, please don't cry. This is a good thing, right? This is what you wanted. Now, she'll have no choice but to love you."

"But she looks so scared, Hyung-"

They talk about you like you aren't right there, shuffling around clumsily to sit yourself up against Soobin's headboard. There's a knot in your gut that's almost as strong as the knots tied around your body.

"-but I'll show you how to take care of everything, okay? I'll teach you how to break her in so she'll love you. She'll love you so much-"

Break her in. Like a new pair of shoes or something. Like you're a puppy needing to be housebroken.

The whimper spills out of your wobbling lip before you can stop it. Yunho's head snaps towards you, and Soobin lifts his up from his shoulder slowly to look at you.

Yunho lets go of him gently, rubbing his arm as he leans to whisper, "go and comfort her."

Soobin hesitates for a moment, hands still fisting up his shirt as he holds onto him. "Go on," his brother guides him, "tell her not to worry. You'll take care of her as long as she's good for you."

You can't hear what he's whispering, so you're even more anxious as Soobin finally lets go of him and steps forward.

You've been friends with him for some months now, you'd even met Yunho a few times before he up and kidnapped you this morning. You thought he was trustworthy — cute, even.

He looks just as anxious as you he sits on the edge of the bed, glancing to Yunho as he mirrors him on the opposite side. "(Y/n)..." He starts slowly, "you don't- you don't need to be afraid. I c-"

"What do you want from me?" You sob out quickly, bound fingertips grasping at the rope on your legs for any sense of stability.

Yunho's hand twitches on his lap, wanting to smack you for interrupting his brother. He holds himself back by reminding himself that you don't know the rules yet. He'll have to add that to the already extensive list of things they'll need to teach you.

"Nothing!" Soobin shakes his head quickly, a shy hand going to your knee, "I don't want anything. I just want you to be here... with me. And-" He looks over to him for a second, remembering his words, "and I promise, as long as you're good, I'll take the best care of you."

You scoff between your heavy cries, "good? Soobin, what the f-fuck? Am I a dog? You have to let me go h-"

Yunho really twitches now, just a spasm at first before he gives in and yanks you down by your ankles; making you scream and thrash in your binds. He holds his finger out towards Soobin when he yells, "Hyung, be gentle with her!" Shushing him effectively, he leans down and grabs your jaw even as you try to shake his hand away.

"We're going to set some ground rules, okay? I'm not going to let you disrespect him."

"You guys are fucking nuts-" You scream dies off quickly when he slaps you. His large palm forcing your head to the side with the sheer force of it.

You let out a shaky breath, slowly looking towards Soobin; where he sits with a hand over his mouth and eyes as wide as yours. "Yunho," he whispers muffledly, "don't be so rough with her... Please..."

"What do you know, anyway?" Yunho hums, cocking an eyebrow as he peers over, "you didn't even have the guts to ask her out, Binie. I'm going to teach you the right way to handle your girl to make her into the perfect darling."

Your brows press together as you look at him beggingly, praying that your friend will come to his senses.

But all that does is make his cock twitch.

He looks away quickly, willing himself to ignore it, "just- do we have to be so rough with her?"

"Just until she learns her place," Yunho looks back to you, strumming his thumb over your stinging cheek slowly. There's a small flash of desire in his eyes — but it's gone when he blinks. "Are you ready to listen to the rules now? Both of you?"

You are not allowed to leave the house. You are not allowed in the kitchen alone. You have to sleep in Soobin's bed — that one gives you more concern, and Yunho notices it — or on his floor, up to you. If Soobin tells you to do something, you do it. If Yunho tells you to do something, you do it. Don't yell at them, don't curse at them, and certainly don't interrupt them again. Answer when they're talking to you, otherwise keep your mouth shut. Let them touch you — your eyes shine with tears, and Soobin's shine with something like gleeful anticipation — whenever, wherever, and however they want. Follow the rules if you know what's good for you. Punishments are decided by Yunho, and he isn't going to be lenient.

The rules haven't even had time to be put in place and you feel so dehumanized just thinking about them.

For Soobin, there's a lot less rules.

Just listen to Yunie. Watch and learn. Follow his lead and don't go against what he says if he wants to be able to make you 'love' him.

You're sobbing all over again as Yunho reaches across the bed and pats Soobin's head, smiling a bit. "Why don't you hold her, hm?"

"Don't touch m-"

He smacks you again, making you grit your teeth. "Nobody was talking to you. That's strike one. I hope you're a quick learner."

"Don't be so mean to her, Hyung," Soobin pouts as he reaches and gently cups your heated cheek. "She's just scared..."

"Show her there's nothing to be afraid of," Yunho leans back on his hands, watching close as Soobin crawls onto the bed. "Remind her of what you said earlier."

He settles over you, staring down as you sob so violently that you're starting to have trouble breathing. "If you're good, I'll only ever take the best care of you," he says lowly.

He seems to be debating something, eyes scanning your puffy face all the way down to your arms which are bound to your sides; the rope biting into your sleeves from how tightly Yunho had tied it. Undoubtedly cutting off your blood flow and bruising your arms. "Yunho-" He looks over quickly, "can we untie her?"

"Hm..." He places a hand on your foot, making you jump and catching your attention. "If you let Soobin hold you while you calm down, we'll untie you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," you stutter out quickly — and are immediately taken into his arms as his brother chuckles.

Lesson Two: "Hit Her"

He was telling the truth, and he untied you after your sniveling had stopped.

Soobin's arms are unfortunately very comforting, and you actually go back to him on your own after you're freed from your binds. You'd much rather be in his arms than within reach of his brothers.

Yunho sets them on Soobin's desk to act as a reminder to you; watching as you tuck yourself into his arms. Obviously more afraid of the older brother, and for good reasons.

He had acted like he needed help, like something was wrong with his car. He knew you would stop. You're a sweet girl, and you know him. He had you locked in the trunk before you even knew what hit you.

When he pulled you out in their garage, he was pleased to find you had hyperventilated yourself into passing out; allowing him to tie you up easily.

"Soobin, please thin-"

Yunho lurches forward quickly and grips you by the scalp, reeling you away from Soobin's shoulder even as you whimper and grab at his wrist. "That's strike two," he groans, pushing at your hands with his free one until you take the hint and let them drop as you look up at him beggingly. "Hit her, Binie."

"H-hit her?" He heaves, "I can't do th-"

"You can. You can do whatever you want to her. So, put her back in her place." Yunho smirks as Soobin raises his hand, bringing it across your face much more gently than he had. "Come on, you think that taught her anything? You've got to be rough with feisty ones like her. Like this-" You squeak as he pulls you from Soobin's lap, dropping you on the floor like nothing and keeping his death grip on your hair.

His slapping hurts much, much more. His hands are fucking huge, and he doesn't hold back in the slightest.

He steps back behind you, pulling you to your knees as you sway from the dizzying impact, "try again, Binie."

He shifts a bit before he stands up, crouching to your level. He looks a bit remorseful, which is more than you can say for his brother. But you can't help but lock onto the way his tongue comes out to lick his lips — like he's enjoying this, even if he's hesitant about it.

He doesn't hold back as he slaps you across your already sore cheek. It doesn't hurt as much as Yunho's, but it's damn near close.

"Tell her what she did wrong," he urges, going on, "punishments aren't for nothing. Only bad behavior gets punished." He emphasizes the 'bad' by giving your hair a tug, making you whine.

"You aren't allowed to speak unless you're spoken to," he says slowly, his eyes scanning your teary face carefully. You can't tell what's going on in his mind. You don't think you want to know.

"You have one more strike," Yunho hums as he crouches behind you, slowly letting go of your hair, "and then we'll show you what a real punishment is." His finger tips slide across your sore scalp all too gently for the threat he just gave.

Lesson Three: "Mutual Care"

Soobin won't stop staring at you.

It makes your stomach hurt. This entire situation makes your stomach hurt.

You're sat across from him at their kitchen table, slowly eating from the bowl of chips between you. Your crunches fill the tense silence before Yunho's voice slices right through it, "what are you doing?"

It almost gives you a fight or flight response, but your body chooses a third option; freeze. Arm half raised to the bowl, you keep your eyes low as he drags out the chair next to you and sits.

"Her stomach was growling," Soobin says simply, his chin in his hand as he continues to stare at you even as his brother joins the table.

"Ah," he nods, looking to you as well as you let your arm drop; folding your hands in your lap and looking down at them. "Did you say thank you?"

"...No."

He tuts his tongue, getting a chip for himself and crossing his arms over his chest as he chews; scanning your stiff form slowly. "Don't you think you should?"

Not entirely. 'Oh, thank you, gracious kidnapper, for making sure I don't starve to death!' "Yes?"

"Yes, so do it."

You look up with only your eyes, head staying still. Afraid to move a muscle. "Thank you, Soobin."

"Y-you're welcome," he finally looks away when you gaze at him, a blush dusting his cheeks and a fire in his gut.

Yunho looks between you both for a moment as your eyes fall back to your lap. He can see why Soobin likes you, why he's so whipped that he's blushing from eye contact with you.

You're a kind person. And you're cute, he won't deny that. And your body is so tempting. And poor Soobin is a virgin, no wonder he's so shy around you —

Yunho perks up with a smirk, leaning his head in his palm as he turns his body in the chair to fully face you. "You should pay him back. Show him some gratitude for taking care of you. Untying you and giving you snacks, isn't he taking good care of you so far?"

You gulp. You don't know where he's going with this, but you know you don't like the feeling of his eyes on you like they are — you feel like a prey animal about to be devoured whole. "Yes..."

"You should suck his dick."

Both of you immediately look to him with wide eyes and shock written all over your faces.

"Hyung!" Soobin gasps, scandalized — like his length isn't already half hard from staring at you and holding you earlier and the way you had thanked him. "Don't talk to her like that, she's a lady-"

Yunho only laughs, waving him off, "she's not a lady, she's a girl." Even though you're only a handful of years younger than him, roughly the same age as Soobin; that's how he sees you. Maybe that's why. You're the same age as his younger brother, so he sees you like he sees him. Naive, and needing a stern hand to guide you. He almost felt bad at how easy it was to take you.

"She's your girl, and she should show you some appreciation."

You hold the table instinctively as he yanks your chair back, meeting Soobin's wide eyes with your own. "Get up," he says, "in this house, we don't get things for free. It's called mutual care — if someone does something for you, you do something for them. And you don't have a lot to offer, now do you?"

"Wait, wait, please!" You grab his arms as he hauls you up, shaking your head quickly, "Yunho, pl-"

"Don't be rude. Soobin, tell her you want her to suck you off."

The younger man's ears are flushed with red at this point, hearing his brother say such vulgar things so casually. He really, really wants you to — but he can tell by looking at you that it's the last thing you want to do. Anyone could. It's clear.

Yunho can tell as well. But the thing is... he doesn't care. He doesn't care what you want to do. He's going to make it his life mission to bend you into the perfect little girlfriend for his baby brother.

"Don't you think it will feel good, Binie?" Yunho hums, cupping your jaw tightly while pressing you tight to his chest. His fingers graze your lips, pressing against them as you try to move away. He whispers low in your ear so that he can't hear, "if you don't make him cum, I'm going to fuck you until you bleed."

You freeze in his grasp, teary eyes blinking at Soobin slowly as he shifts in his chair.

"I want you to- to suck me off." He says clumsily, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"You heard him," Yunho shoves you towards him, "remember those rules we talked about?"

Soobin slides his chair back, making room for you as Yunho guides your shell shocked form to kneel in front of him. Weighing your options: suck the semi-nice, awkward man off or get fucked by the mean, domineering one — you place your hands on Soobin's lap, making him twitch.

"Holy shit, really?" He bites back a moan as he looks down at you; caged between his chair and Yunho's imposing figure.

"Yes, really," Yunho answers for you, "she can't say no if we tell her to do something, remember?"

If Soobin minds the tears streaming down your face as you reach up and unbutton his jeans shakily; he doesn't say anything. Anything other than, "fuuuck," as he leans his head back on the chair.

"Do you know what you're doing down there, sweetheart?" Yunho asks, patronizingly. You don't answer right away, so you don't curse at him; and he gives your head a warning shove, "do you?"

"...Kind of." You aren't inexperienced — not to the degree Soobin is. You've talked about it a bit, just friends talking about their sex lives; or lack thereof. And you wish you hadn't.

Because you know whenever you pull down his pants you're going to find a monster of a cock. You had thought his friends were joking, but by the size of his half-hard bulge — they were not.

"Do what you know. I'll fix whatever's wrong."

Fix. He says it like you're a program or something of the like. Not a human who's feeling bone shaking humiliation as you grip the edge of Soobin's jeans and pull them down to his knees.

There's already a wet spot in his boxers from his leaking tip. You almost gag at the sight of it before you swallow the noise, and the burning shame, down.

You don't take off his boxers, and even though he kind of wants you to; Yunho doesn't correct you. It your first time, and you've had a shaking day. He isn't a total monster. He lets you unbutton the small opening and rests his hand on your head as if to encourage you when you choke on a small whine.

"Please," Soobin whispers breathily, gripping the edge of the seat whenever you wrap your hand around his length and free it from his boxers.

You hesitate for a long moment, holding his twitching cock as it further hardens in your loose grasp. You know you feel the weight of it in your hand, you know you do. But it feels far off. Distant. The same way Yunho's tapping on your head does as he says, "don't keep him waiting."

You look up to Soobin in one final try for mercy, but lust has already blown his pupils wide and his chest is heaving with anticipation.

Fighting back your tears, you bring your hand under your mouth and let some spit dribble onto your palm. The quicker you make him cum, the quicker you can get off your knees.

"Shit-" He curses under his breath as you wrap your hand around him again; using your spit as lube to jerk him off slowly.

"Is she doing good?" Yunho has to swallow back the build up of saliva as he focuses on your hand sliding up and down. He can't help himself — even though it's on his brother's cock. That's not what he's looking at, though; only your hand and the way it looks so small around it.

He's bigger than his brother. While your fingertips can hardly touch around Soobin's girth, Yunho thinks you'd need both hands to jerk him off affectively. He's getting hard just imagining it.

"Really good," Soobin bites his lip, watching with the same sparkle of infatuation in his eyes. You flinch a bit as he brings a hand to your cheek softly, looking up at him with a far-off look in your eyes. It makes his gut clench with both shame and arousal. "S-suck it," he huffs as he places his thumb on your chin, guiding it open.

You let Yunho push your head down. You don't know why. You can't tell. You close your eyes and let it happen.

The heat of your mouth alone is almost enough to make his virgin cock weep with pleasure. When his hips buck on instinct, he loses all control. "Goddamn," he hisses, hands coming to either sides of your head to hold you in place as he pushes further in; making you gag. Making your jaw ache. You can't breathe. He's too much too quick.

"Breathe through your nose," Yunho whispers to you as he kneels behind you. The heat of his body is there, pressing right against you, and you can feel his growing bulge — but not really. "Let him use your mouth however he likes."

And your brain isn't giving you any choice but to. Like it's on autopilot. Like it's running on survival mode — because it is.

You have no doubt that Yunho would follow through on his threat. You could see it in his eyes now. It's the same look Soobin had whenever he was holding you, staring at you. The look of insanity.

You don't know how much time has passed whenever Soobin lets out a broken moan of your name, urging you to open your eyes. Yunho has gathered your hands behind your back, holding your wrists together after you had been grabbing at Soobin's hips to try and get him to slow down.

He cums when your blurry eyes land on his. Your face puffy from the day of crying, your lips swollen and slick with bubbles of saliva on your chin.

You can't breathe again whenever he pushes deeper than before; desperate to cum as deep inside of you as he can. You panic when he breeches your throat, whimpering and gagging and neither of them care. Yunho uses his free hand to keep your jaw pried open as wide as possible, smirking at the sounds of you choking on the cum that Soobin is forcing down your throat.

"Swallow," he commands into your ear, squeezing your wrists in a way that unfortunately grounds you to the moment. "Don't be an ungrateful bitch, take all of his cum and thank him when you're done."

Your jaw is sore and your throat is burning from the heat of his release and the stretch from the tip of his cock. You swallow it. It fills your stomach with more than just cum, it fills it with dread.

Soobin's boxers are wet all around his cock from your drool as he finally pulls you up off him, letting you draw in large gasps. He slumps back into the chair, hearts in his eyes as he watches you replenish your lungs.

"Don't you have something to say, pretty girl?" Yunho hums as he wipes your chin with his thumb.

"Th-thank you, Soobin."

Lesson Four: "Keeping Busy"

Soobin let you sleep on his floor, even though he really, really wanted to hold you. And he knows it had to have been uncomfortable even with the pillow and blanket he gave you; because you're rubbing your shoulder like it hurts as you sit at the table the next morning.

He tears his eyes away from you as Yunho sits a bowl of oatmeal in front of both of you, "thank you, Hyung."

"You're welcome," Yunho smiles, and it drops as he looks to you pointedly.

"...Thank you, Yunho."

"You're welcome. Eat up." He lifts himself onto the nearby counter, leaning his chin in his hand as he watches you both. "So," he trails on, "are you going to work today, Binie?"

"Uhm," he pouts, "I hadn't thought about that..." He looks over to you slowly, cogs turning in his mind.

"If you're worried about her, don't be. I have plans for her."

You both look to him, your eyes wide and Soobin's questioning.

"We should keep her busy so she doesn't have any time to think about doing something stupid."

"Oh," Soobin nods, "that makes sense, I guess."

"Soobin-" You get cut off when Yunho jumps down from the counter and comes over quickly; leaning down to get in your face.

"Were we talking to you?"

Strike three. You can feel those words hanging in the air. But thankfully, before Yunho can say them; Soobin does something you didn't think he ever would — he puts himself between you.

He cups your cheek before Yunho can smack it, his glare is wavering; but it's there. "She's just woke up. She just forgot, right?" He looks at you so softly as you huddle into his hand for protection. It makes your heart clench.

"Yes." You squeak out quickly, "I'm sorry. I for- I forgot, I'm sorry."

Yunho rolls his eyes as he pushes off the table, leaning back against the counter. "You shouldn't be so lenient with her."

"She's still scared, Hyung. Give her a break."

Yunho is going to do anything but. You can tell by the look in his eyes as he watches you and Soobin disappear back into the hall.

Soobin lets you lay on his bed while he gets ready for work, awkward silence hanging in the air. You want to speak to him so badly. You have a feeling he'd let you start the conversation, rules be damned — but you're also deathly afraid that Yunho is waiting with his ear against the door for the very second you 'misbehave'.

"I'm going to head out now," he says lowly, standing from his chair as he finishes buttoning his shirt. "Are... Will you be good? I know that Yunho is scary, but he won't hurt you- not- not unless you give him a reason."

You kind of feel bad when you see the flash of remembrance in his eyes. Like he's been at the receiving end of Yunho's ways of 'correcting behavior'. Only kind of. Because you can still taste the ghost of his cum when your mind lingers on nothing for too long.

"Please don't leave me with him, Soobin." You whisper, as quiet as you can manage. His heart breaks a little bit.

He knows you're scared. Anyone would be in your situation. But as long as you're good, as long as you do what Yunho says; Soobin knows you'll be okay. His brother is... stern, but he isn't a monster.

He leans over and wipes the stray tear from your cheek, "just be good. And there's nothing for you to be afraid of." He's silent for a moment before, "can I kiss you?"

Your chin wobbles a little bit as you croak, "please don't."

He nods, understanding. "Okay," he places his lips to your cheek instead, "be good." It's more than a request. It's a warning.

Yunho is there when he opens the door, resting against the wall. "Be nice to her, please, Hyung?"

He doesn't say yes or no — he doesn't even acknowledge what he said. "Have a good day at work, Binie," he smiles, waving to him as he sighs defeatedly and heads to the door.

As soon as the door clunks shut, Yunho's smile is gone. He pushes off the wall and storms into Soobin's room, climbing on top of you before you get the chance to scramble away.

"I know I didn't just hear you tell him no." He growls as he slams your wrists down, each one pinned on either side of your head as your tears work themselves up quickly. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"I'm sor-sorry!" You shake your head quickly. You knew he was listening.

"Let me make this very, very, crystal fucking clear," he leans down, his nose grazing against yours as he glares into your soul, "you have one purpose in life now, and that's to make him happy. Do you understand me? Do you hear the words coming out of my mouth? You don't get to think for yourself anymore. You listen to what we say."

His tone is so condescending. As if he's talking to a toddler having a tantrum. As if he doesn't think you have the right to be upset. It makes your gut churn with humiliation, with anger.

"Y-yes." You sniffle, turning your head away from him.

"I sure hope so. Get up." He pulls you by his grip on your wrists, yanking you to your feet. "Strip."

Your heart drops into your toes. "Yunho, please..."

"Fuck did I just say?" He sneers, gripping the collar of your shirt and lifting you to his level; balancing precariously on your tip-toes and having to grab his arms for stability, "stop thinking. Stop feeling. None of that shit. All you need to worry about is doing as you're told."

He shoves you so hard that you fall to the ground, gasping as the pain radiates through you. "Strip. Only keep your underwear. Do it, or I'll do it for you and I'll take them too."

You reach for the button on your pants shakily, avoiding his intense gaze as you pull the zipper down.

"By the time he gets home, I want you to be willing to do anything he asks. We're going to work on that together, okay?"

You nod, shakily pulling your pants down before sliding away from him a bit and taking your top off. Pulling your knees to your chin, you dare to look up at him.

And you shouldn't have. Because now Yunho really gets what his little brother sees in you.

Everything about you is somehow divine in one way or another.

The tears don't just shine in your eyes — they sparkle.

He loves it when he's in control, and the way you look up at him with fear written on your face but have absolutely nothing to do about it makes him feel a bit light headed.

"Get onto your knees." He commands, staring down at you like a carnivore looks down at a piece of meat. "Hands behind your back, don't make me tie you up again. I know you think I'm a monster, but I'm willing to be fair with you..."

He steps back to give you more space, knowing you're afraid. And you follow his command after he does, slowly pulling your legs under you. Just like he thought you would. Like a frightened shelter dog, you need space to follow instructions. You'll get over that soon.

"Stay like that," he leans slowly, but you flinch nonetheless as he pushes your shoulders up and makes your back straight. "Good."

When he leans back, he seems to notice the steady stream of tears coming down your face. "Do you feel embarrassed?" He asks with a smile — not a smile. A deadly smirk.

You try to bite back your tongue, but the urge to lash out is too strong. "F-fuck you."

"Awe," he coos, soft and mocking, "your voice doesn't really carry the same venom when you're all shaking. Cute try, though~" He falls into Soobin's chair, leaning his head back. "Come here."

When you go to stand, he snaps his fingers quickly; stunning you. "Uh-uh. Did I say get up?" Taking in his words for a moment, a fresh wave of tears brew up in your eyes as you push yourself forward on your knees until you're in front of his feet. "Now you're starting to learn, keep it up~"

God, you want to curse at him so badly. You want to punch him, slap him, bite him — you want to do anything to knock him off of his high horse.

...But you're so scared. You do nothing. Nothing but cry.

"Look at me," he grabs your chin when you go to do the opposite, forcing your head up, "if you ever-" His other hand goes to the base of your skull; a fistful of hair in his grasp, "-ever tell me 'fuck you' again, I'm going to fuck you in the ass while I make your little boyfriend watch."

You don't register the last part of his threat, and he really doesn't either for a second until he blinks; realizing what he just said. You're too busy blubbering apologizes to notice the heavy thoughts going on behind his eyes.

Your little boyfriend.

Not Soobin. Binie. 'My brother'.

Is he — is Yunho... jealous?

No. No. Yunho doesn't get jealous, especially over little girls like you who don't know how to listen. Who snivel so pathetically that it makes his cock twitch — oh god, it makes his cock twitch watching you cry for forgiveness.

"Shut up." He says quickly. Almost jumbled. "Stop your fucking babbling. All I did was give you a warning, don't let that shit happen again or I'll give you a real reason to cry. Got it?"

"Y-yes."

He stares for a moment. It's deeper than his brother's staring. More intense. But his eyes swirl with the same mixture of desire and craziness that makes you feel like a cornered animal.

"Good." He says after a long second, "stand up, follow me."

Lesson Five: "Jump"

Yunho's room is messier than Soobin's.

Not dirty, or cluttered. Just messy. Like things don't have a place where they belong.

You don't mean to look. But there's really nothing else for you to do as you wait for your next instructions. You know what they will be, you've been doing this for hours at this point.

As he works at his desk, he keeps you sat next to him on the floor. Still in nothing but your underwear, and you hate that you're starting to feel like it's a normal state of dress. Randomly, at least randomly to you; you have no idea if he's timing it somehow — he tells you one thing.

"Jump."

Your shoulders slump, eyes drooping as you push yourself up. You've ran out of tears to cry, so your eyes just burn now. They sting. Just like your muscles do as you force yourself to do the jumping jacks he expects of you.

He doesn't need to explain his ways of breaking you. You know. Telling you to do unorthodox things to desensitize you. Spanking you when you disobeyed, so hard that you hyperventilated, so that you associate pain with bad behavior.

You only did it once after he explained what he expected of you. Because that was all it took. You couldn't breathe when he was done 'correcting' you with his palm on your ass. He had to wrap his arms around you to stop your intense shaking as you begged for his forgiveness.

Both of you pretended not to feel his hard-on as you finally calmed down.

"Stop."

The second the word falls from his lips, you collapse. Straight down onto the carpeted hardwood as you pant. Pulling yourself onto your stomach to hide your face from him as you feel him looking over his shoulder at you.

"Are you tired?" He asks. But you know he doesn't care.

"Yes," you breathe heavily. And you're proven right when he says again;

"Jump."

You sob tearlessly as you try to push yourself up. You try. Try being the keyword, because your knees give out under you and you fall back to the floor as he watches you struggle with an amused grin.

"I said jump, sweetheart."

Fuck you. Is what you want to say. Deep down, you know that's what you want to say. But it comes out, "y-yes, Sir." As you continue to fight with your exhausted limbs.

He told you call him that after your first attempt at disobedience. Only good girls get to call him by his name.

You grip the edge of his bed, pulling your heavy legs underneath you and taking a moment. You open your mouth to beg for... something. You aren't sure what you'd beg for, but you remember the rules before you speak; looking over your shoulder to meet his eyes.

"Something to say?" He hums, turning in his chair.

"I can't..." You shake your head, as if you feel ashamed for not being able to follow his command. But fear is more of what you feel. Knowing you're about to be in a world of pain that's even worse than the soreness of your body. "I can't," you repeat yourself quietly, head hanging, "please, Y- please, Sir... I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

You flinch as you hear him stand, just barely able to move enough to do so. "For not... for..." You whine, unable to find the right words as your mind becomes a storm of emotions and raw instincts as you feel his shadow loom over you. The words that will please him.

"Don't work yourself up again," he says slowly, kneeling beside you and cupping his hand under your chin. "You're done for today."

You scan his face wildly, searching for any twitch that gives away his true intentions. But it's soft. Prideful. A bit proud. "You did pretty good," he leans, hesitates halfway, but then his lips press against yours.

And that shocks you more than his hand gripping the back of your neck does, holding you still against him when you flinch again.

Of anything the past forty-eight hours has thrown at you — kidnapped, bound, threatened, made to swallow cum — Yunho kissing you shocks you the most. He's unpredictable. It scares you.

"I had a feeling you were a quick learner," he whispers against you before standing quickly. "Come on, let's wash you up before Soobin gets home."

Soobin. You almost forgot about him. You want him to come back already. You know he's the reason you're in this whole mess, but he's so much more comforting than Yunho is. He's so much more predictable. You kind of want him to hold you.

You let Yunho drag you up, entirely too physically and mentally worn out to do anything else as he wraps your legs around his waist and carries you to the bathroom down the hall.

Despite yourself, you flinch further into him as the door collides with the wall behind it softly. He chuckles as he reaches and pulls your ankles from behind his back, "such a baby."

You practically fall onto the closed toilet lid, biting back a whine as your bruised ass meets the surface. He catches it anyway while he turns on the water, so he looks over to you. "Hurting?"

This time, you can't tell if he's being condescending; if he knows your body feels like it's about to shut down. Or if he's genuinely asking.

"I asked a question."

"Y-yes. Yes, Sir." You ramble out quickly, looking away from him.

"You can have a bath after you wash off, it'll help," he says shortly, turning and throwing a towel at you; leading you to catch it clumsily to your chest. "Don't take forever, okay?"

"Okay..."

He gives you a finally glance, maybe as a warning, before he heads to the door and closes it behind him.

Leaving you alone.

You stare at the door for a second. Wondering if you could get away with locking it. You highly doubt that.

So you force yourself up and strip cautiously, your eyes flicking to the doorknob every few seconds until you climb into the tub and yank the curtain shut.

Immediately, you sit down. Letting the water pelt against you softly. It's such a simple thing. And that simple thing makes you cry for the umpteenth time. Loud, ugly sobs wracking your body as you pull your knees up and hug yourself.

And Yunho listens from out in the hall with a large smirk.

Lesson Six: "Comfort Her"

"Hey, Binie!" Yunho greets him warmly as he comes in, rushing to where he hears you both in the living room; the TV filling the silence.

Yunho leans over like he's putting his arm around your shoulder and gives your arm a small pinch, smiling at Soobin at the while.

"Hi, Binie," you whisper after a small yelp, looking over to him. He notices your blood shot and puffy eyes immediately; dropping his work bag.

"Are you okay?" He asks quickly as he comes to stand in front of you, cupping your cheeks softly to make you look at him.

"She's fine," Yunho answers for you, and you nod slowly to agree with him, "she had a rough day, but she's learning quick. Aren't you lucky?"

That last little word has some bite to it, but neither of you catch onto it as you look at each other. He wants to be lucky. He wants to be the one you're leaning into right now for comfort. He deserves to break you down and piece you back together.

But Soobin comes first, he always has and he always will. He's the little brother. The baby. And Yunho has to take care of him. He usually has no qualms about it. He loves caring for and guiding his brother.

Not right now. He's come to the conclusion that's he's definitely jealous. And really, he has no one to blame but himself. He could have told his some advice on asking you out, like a normal older brother, but Yunho can't help but go big for Soobin.

He hates himself a little bit for the words you say next, because he planted them in your head as he helped you dress in one of Soobins shirts before you sat down.

"I mi- I missed you today," you stumble, getting punished with another pinch to sore arm that makes you wince.

Soobin notices that time, eyes scanning over you. "Are you hurt?"

You hesitate for a second. You're supposed to answer if he's talking to you — but you don't know if Yunho would be alright with you telling him how he bruised your ass and made you do jumping jacks on-and-off all day. Your eyes flick to him, and Soobins follow.

"What did you do to her-" His anger is shut down as soon as it appears when Yunho tilts his head. He goes from raising his voice to shrinking back in a fraction of a second. "I t-told you to be gentle with her..."

"She's fucking fine, don't be dramatic. She isn't a porcelain doll." Even though you looked as adorable as one with that confusion in your eyes after he kissed you-

He shakes his head, standing up. "She's just a bit sore from some work outs we did today, you'll want to help her walk so she doesn't fall again."

"Again?! When-" Soobin pouts, taking his seat immediately and going silent in shock as you quickly crash into his side and hug him.

Yunho feels a sick mix of pride in breaking you so fast and envy in thinking that it should be him you cling to. Maybe... no. "Anyway," he hums, snatching up his drink before shuffling away, "she had a rough day. Comfort her."

He doesn't give any guidance for that instruction. Because frankly, he doesn't give a shit if you feel comforted properly. He's disappearing into his room to keep his jealousy from festering — but it's already too late.

Lesson Seven: "Fuck Her"

Soobin let you sleep on his bed last night. He didn't protest or question you in the slightest. And neither did you, remembering the pain of Yunho's hand on your backside while he asked if he could hold you.

He woke up pleasantly rested with you still in his arms. The only problem is that he's got morning wood. Right against the round of your sleeping ass.

"Fuck, fuck," he whines, quickly sliding out of bed when his sleepy brain catches up. Looking down at you, mortified that you might have felt him; he's relieved to find that you're still deep in your unconscious — completely drained from yesterday.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he whispers even though he knows you can't hear him. And really it's not any worse than what he did to you before, but he's still overwhelming shy about anything sexual.

He bumps into Yunho in the hallway as he's hurrying to the bathroom, mumbling a, "sorry, Hyung," before he gets grabbed by his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He asks, scanning the younger man and chuckling as he sees the bulge in his pajamas. "Seriously?"

"Shut up," Soobin groans embarrassedly, cupping his hands over himself, "she..."

"Did she tell you no?" Yunho's eyes darken, amusement gone.

"No, no! No, she's still asleep," he shakes his head quickly, "she was just... really warm."

"Wow... You're kind of pathetic, Binie," Yunho laughs, shocking him, "I mean seriously! You have a pliant, pretty girl in your bed ready to do whatever you want and you're going to the bathroom like a loser."

"Hyung," he pouts, tears pressing his waterline, "why are you so mean?"

"I'm not mean, I'm telling you the truth. How do you expect to get anywhere with her when you run away anytime something sexual happens? I practically had to make you ask her to suck you off- do you even want to fuck her?"

"Of course I want to fuck her!" He slams his hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

Yunho wears a small grin, eyes unreadable. "Let's go do it then." He turns around before Soobin can register what he said, leaving him stunned in the hallway.

When he finally does realize what he said, he's running after him, "Yunie- wait! I'm not sure- sure if I'm ready to do that sort of thing. And isn't- wouldn't it be rap-"

He shuts up quickly when Yunho looks back at him, stumbling and grabbing the doorframe.

"She won't say no." He says like it's a fact. It might as well be. He won't let you say no. He finally wants something. "I'll show you how to do it."

"Wait, wait, wait, Hyung, please wait!" He whisper-yells, afraid to wake you up when his brother is walking with such purpose towards you. He grabs into his elbow, stopping him in his tracks.

Soobin shivers.

Yunho is mad. He can feel it even before he slowly turns to face him. "Wait for what?"

"I just... I just don't think we should do this. I think- think maybe we should let her go h-" He chokes as Yunho's hand wraps around his throat. Eyes wide with terror. But it's not the first time his brother has gotten physical with him, so he's not truly afraid of him hurting him too badly.

He's afraid of him hurting you.

Last night, when he had started playing a show on his laptop, you looked at him until he asked if you wanted to say something. And then you spilled the beans of what Yunho did. Your 'workout'. How he made you jump until your body physically gave out, and how he had spanked you when you disobeyed. How he had kissed you.

Your voice was low, he had to lean in to hear you over the show. You were deathly afraid Yunho could hear you; even when Soobin, right next to you, had trouble doing so.

He knew his brother was willing to cross lines. But his treatment of you is just fucking sadistic, and he knows it.

"Hyun-"

"You listen to me, brat." He sneers, glaring down at him as their noses touch, "I did this for you. Everything I've ever done, it's been for you, ever since you were born. Are you not grateful? I could go to fucking jail for this, Soobin. And you aren't even taking advantage of what I've given you. What's wrong with you?"

With him? What's wrong with him?

Soobin blinks, confused. Dazed. "I don't- I don't know..."

"You-" Yunho laughs — scoffs. "You piss me off so badly sometimes, Binie, you really do." He shoves him by his neck, making him stumble. "I'm going to fuck her. It's the least I deserve for putting my life on the line for you. I don't give a shit whether you watch and learn or what you do."

Soobin watches with eyes wide as saucers as Yunho climbs over top of you, blankets and all, and starts kissing at your neck as you sleep. His mind throws a million thoughts at him all at once as he tries to digest his words.

Yunho knows he'll come in. He knows he'll watch. And he knows he'll take his turn after he's done.

Because Yunho knows exactly how to manipulate him into doing what he wants. He's been doing it since they were children.

He isn't surprised in the slightest when the bed dips.

HOW TO BREAK IN YOUR DARLING 101

part two -> ?

[lucidrmss]

extra credit. I 3.3k armin arlert x reader

cw: 18+ explicit content minors dni, nerdmin x baddie reader, reader insert but no use of y/n, unprotected sex, female pronouns/afab reader, vaginal sex, oral sex, nipple piercing, possessive armin, bit of dirty talk. not all that in the first part tho

summary: No one saw it coming. Not your roommate. Not your on-and-off ex situationship. Not even the judgmental girl with a color-coded planner who’s clearly in love with him.

But somehow, the cardigan-wearing, note-taking, blushy boy wonder of your Comparative Politics class caught your attention. And that’s saying something, because you’re not exactly known for quiet crushes or gentle flirting — being a tattooed, sharp-tongued, braless baddie with a GPA just as high as your standards.

After a sketchy dude corners you at a party, Armin Arlert — the last person you expected — swoops in like a flannel-clad knight in awkward armor. That moment sparks a chaotic, and unexpectedly tender journey involving fake study sessions, thigh tattoos, jealous glances, and one painfully adorable nerd who may or may not be packing more than just a well-organized Google Drive.

Let them stare. Let them whisper. You’re not letting this one go.

notes: this is a repost from ao3 so if feels like you already read this before,, maybe u did,,,, just thought of posting here since tumblr is such a good community and as a reader many of my favorites fics and authors were here sooo.. heres my contribution. also english is not my first language and even tho i already read this so many times if u see a typo lmk. enjoy <33 extra note: i didn't have THAT NERDMIN in mind when i write this back in april but you can imagine him like this here or wtv but keep in mind it's a uni au.

You didn’t expect to end the night by almost punching someone in the throat. You also didn’t expect your knight in shining armor to wear glasses, a flannel, and smell vaguely like peppermint and academic pressure. But hey, life’s full of surprises.

The party is loud, the floor is sticky, and your ass looks amazing in these jeans. You know this because three different girls complimented you in the line for shots, and the guy you passed in the hallway nearly tripped over a beanbag trying to stare at it. Classic.

You're not drunk, not yet, but your buzz is kicking in nicely. Your hair is a little wild, eyeliner perfectly smudged, and your nipples might be piercing the air through your crop top. Not that you care — you didn’t come here to blend in.

"Tell me why the hell we're here again," you shout over the bass, dodging a shirtless freshman swinging a glowstick like he's summoning spirits.

Mikasa, holding her cup like it personally offended her, shrugs. “Connie said Jean might show up. I’m here to watch the drama unfound.”

“I’m not talking to Jean, I'm done with him” you scoff, because you are a woman of growth. Evolution. Maturity — and also because Jean ghosted you last week after asking for nudes. Again.

“Cool,” she says. “Then maybe flirt with someone else for once.”

As if on cue, your eyes wander — and catch on a very out-of-place figure near the kitchen.

Flannel. Glasses. Clean-shaven. Trying so hard to blend in and failing with Olympic-level dedication.

“Is that... Armin?”

Mikasa turns. Blinks. “No fucking way.”

Oh, but yes. It's Armin Arlert. the boy who sits three rows in front of you in Comparative Politics and types like the keyboard owes him money.

Armin who color-codes his notes and once offered you an extra pencil like he didn't get that you haven't brought one on purpose.

Armin who turned beet red when you answered a discussion question and said the word “penetrate” in a completely non-sexual context.

“Who dragged him here?” you ask with a little laugh, already sipping your drink like this is a nature documentary.

“Probably Connie,” Mikasa mutters. “He’s been trying to make Armin ‘social’ for weeks.”

And damn, you have to admit: it’s weirdly... working?

Okay, so the flannel’s still tucked too neatly, and his shoes are definitely orthopedic. But his jawline? Sharp. His hair? A little messy. And when he pushes his glasses up? you hate how hot you find that.

You're staring too long. you know it. Mikasa knows it.

“Oh no,” she says, grinning. “Don’t you dare.”

“Relax. I’m just admiring the academic aesthetic,” you say coolly.

Liar.

Ten minutes later, you’re separated from Mikasa, your drink is empty, and some dude with too much cologne and not enough social awareness is blocking your path to the kitchen.

“You come here a lot?” he asks, his breath hot with tequila and regret.

You smile politely. “Nope.”

“We should change that.”

Oh God.

You try stepping around him. He steps with you.

You’re mid eye-roll, about to hit him with your favorite line ("Do you come with an off switch?"), when a voice cuts in.

"Hey. there you are."

You blink.

The guy blinks.

Armin freaking Arlert slides up beside you like he’s done it a hundred times, placing a gentle but possessive hand on your waist like it belongs there. He turns to the guy with a smile so polite it might be a threat.

“She was looking for me. Thanks, though.”

The guy hesitates. Scowls. But Armin doesn’t budge — and something in those soft blue eyes says do not test me, I read about ancient wars for fun .

Creep backs off. Retreats. Gone.

Silence.

You turn slowly, Armin’s hand drops from your waist like it burned him. His ears are red. His pupils are wide.

“I’m sorry if that was weird,” he says in a rush. “You looked—he looked like—like you weren’t enjoying—uh—I thought—”

“You thought right.” you raise an eyebrow, letting your smirk play out slow. “Nice timing, Arlert.”

He laughs nervously, scratches the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to, uh, interrupt. I was just passing by and—”

“You weren’t interrupting. you were rescuing. Big difference.” your eyes travel over him, curious. He’s still blushing, but something about him is... steady. Calm. Kind.

Maybe you’re still buzzed.

Or maybe you’ve just developed a thing for quiet boys who do the right thing without needing a reward. Either way, your next move surprises even you.

 “So,” you say casually, leaning in just enough for him to smell your perfume — or notice your piercings. “Think you could help me with our next exam?”

He blinks, the song coming from the speakers ends and changes to a summer hit from last year, and the people on the makeshift dance floor cheers loudly.

“I... sure? I mean, yeah. Of course.” you pull your phone from your low-waist jeans, and stares as he types his number on it. shaking.

“Great,” you purr. “I’ll text you.”

And just like that, you turn and walk away, leaving him staring after you like you just recited the Constitution in a bikini.

Mission: Start Nerd Seduction — officially launched.

You don’t actually need help with the midterm. But you do need an excuse to sit across from Armin Arlert while licking the rim of your iced coffee like a menace to society.

so when he texts you back with a “Sure! I’m free Friday afternoon if that works?” you say

> Cool. I’ll bring my notes and wear something distracting.

You don’t expect a reply, and definitely don’t expect the little three-dot typing bubble to linger for two full minutes before he hits you with:

>Armin: Should I bring a calculator or holy water?

You giggle like a damn schoolgirl and toss your phone across the bed.

God help him. you’re gonna ruin that boy.

On Friday you’re in his room.

His actual dorm room, which smells like pinewood and clean laundry. There are three highlighters on his desk arranged by color, posters from Sci–Fi movies on the walls, little The Hobbits figures on some shelves and you swear the man owns more books than space on furniture to put it on.

“I like your room,” you say, setting down your iced coffee. “Very... untouched virgin energy.”

He pushes his glasses up. “Thanks?”

You’re already sprawling across his desk chair, legs crossed, skirt indecent. You watch his eyes flicker downward, then violently snap back up. Adorable.

“okay,” he says, pulling out a folder. “So, we’re reviewing chapter 5? The political theory section?”

You blink at him.

“Oh, right. Studying.” you lean forward, resting your chin on your palm, giving him your best wide-eyed innocent face.

Armin frowns like you’re a pop quiz he didn’t study for. “...did you even bring your notes?”

“Sure,” you lie, “they’re in my... bra.”

He looks like he might combust on the spot.

“Sorry,” you add sweetly. “too much?”

“Just a bit,” he mutters, already flipping open his book like it’s a shield. You let the moment hang in the air a bit too long — just enough for the tension to crackle — then settle back and pretend to pay attention.

But honestly? you’re watching him more than the textbook.

The way he twirls his pen. The way his voice softens when he explains a concept, you like how he ain't trying to mansplain it like you're actually stupid, just being patient. The way he blushes every time you hum in agreement.

You even catch him peeking at your tattoos when he thinks you’re not looking.

"So...” you say, leaning closer until your thigh brushes his. “Do you always tutor people like this?”

He freezes. “Like what?”

“Alone. In your room.”

His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. “N-no. I mean—no, I don’t. Usually it’s at the library. Or the lab. Or... never mind.”

“Cute,” you tease. “You're nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“You’re literally shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

You pause. Smirk. “Want me to stop?”

He swallows hard. “...no.”

And there it is.

That glimmer. That tiny flash of something underneath the nerves — confidence? Want? Hunger?

You sit back, pretending not to notice your own racing pulse.

The game just got fun.

Ten minutes later, you both keep pretending to read the same paragraph while pretending not to feel the air buzzing between you.

That’s when the door creaks open.

“Yo, Armin—” a high voice cuts in, then stops. “Oh. Hey.”

You turn slowly.

She’s short. She’s wearing a pastel cardigan with two different shades of pink. A cute flower pin on her hair and an adorable smile that is slowly dropping. Terrifying.

“Mina,” Armin says, standing up so fast his chair almost flips. “Hey. sorry, I forgot to text—”

“It’s okay!” she chirps. “I just came to drop off the notes from last week.” Her eyes flick to you. To your skirt. To your thigh against his.

“Oh,” she adds, still trying to smile. “I didn’t know you had company.”

You smile back, a knowing smile while offering your name, “We’re studying.”

Her expression flickers. Just a second. Just enough.

“Nice,” she says. “Well... see you later?” trying to meet Armin’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Armin says, but he's distracted, his eyes trailing to you.

And when the door shuts behind her, he lets out a breath like he forgot how to.

“Friend of yours?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says too fast. “We’ve known each other since orientation.”

“Huh.” You twirl your pen. “She likes you.”

He chokes on air. “What?! No, she—Mina doesn’t—why would you—”

“Because she looked at me like I’m a pop-up ad that gave her computer a virus,” you say, deadpan.

He groans. “She’s just friendly.”

"Mm-hm.” You tilt your head. “You like her?”

Silence.

Then “I don’t know,” he admits. “I guess I never really thought about it.”

Interesting.

Very interesting.

You smile, wider this time. “Good. Because I’m very distracting.”

You do not need this men.

You’re not bored. You’re not lonely. You’ve got enough situationships to form a goddamn Avengers team.

And yet — here you are.

In the library. Again.

Wearing lip gloss and zero academic intention.

Armin’s already at the table when you arrive, notes spread out, glasses sliding down his nose. Like he didn't leave you wanting after last week's study date. You consider greeting him like a normal person. You don’t. Instead, you drop your bag, plop into the chair beside him, and whisper in his ear:

“Miss me?”

He jumps.

“Jesus —” he says your name like a curse, while holding his chest to calm his heart.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

He blinks at you. “I—uh—yeah. I guess.”

You grin. “cute.”

He coughs. You cross your legs, showing off your thigh tattoo. Half the guys at the next table almost fall out of their chairs. Armin doesn’t notice — or he pretends not to — but the flush in his cheeks says otherwise.

“Let’s start with Hobbes today,” he mumbles, eyes glued to his page. “You read the assigned chapters, right?”

“Define ‘read’.”

Armin eyes you, saying your name almost in a reprimand way.

“Relax, I skimmed it.” you pull out a pen. “Ready when you are, Professor.”

You don't absorb much of what he’s saying. Because he’s doing that thing again — the voice drop, the hand gesture, the “lemme explain this real quick” lean-in that gets unreasonably close. And he smells good today. Like fresh laundry and—god—was that vanilla?

You’re not okay.

“So that’s why Hobbes believes in the absolute power of the sovereign,” Armin finishes, looking up. “Make sense?”

You’re not sure what Hobbes believes in, but you do believe in Armin ruining your life. You nod.

He beams. “See? You’re better at this than you think.”

Oh. That smile. That pure smile. like he hasn’t noticed the chaos you’ve been trying to throw at him for days. Like he doesn’t know half the campus is whispering:

“Why is Armin Arlert hanging out with her?

“Did she lose a bet?”

“No way he could ever handle her.”

They don’t know that Armin looked you in the eye last Tuesday, tilt his head and said, “You should really stop doing that if you want me to focus.”

They don’t know that you’re starting to forget what flirting is supposed to feel like. Because this? This is more dangerous than your usual games.

And just when you’re about to lean in and say something stupid, like — you’ve got really nice hands – a familiar voice interrupts:

“Hey, Armin!”

You turn. of course it’s Mina.

Carrying two matcha lattes and an entire Pinterest board’s worth of optimism. she slides into the seat on Armin’s other side, all teeth and pastel and absolutely no shame.

“I brought you a drink,” she says, ignoring your existence completely.

“Oh—thanks,” Armin replies, startled. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” she chirps, and finally glances at you. “Hi”

You nod. “Mina.” A pause. You sip your coffee. She sips her matcha. Armin is sweating.

“So,” Mina says to him, voice syrup-sweet, “did you want to study together for the ethics quiz? We could—”

“He’s busy,” you say.

Mina blinks. “What?”

“With me,” you finish. Smile. “We’re reviewing Locke next. Very intense stuff.”

Armin opens his mouth. Close it. Prays for death.

“Oh,” Mina says, still smiling. “That’s... cool.”

You keep smiling. You’re both smiling so hard it might shatter the floor beneath you.

“I guess I’ll just see you tomorrow, Armin?” she tries again.

He looks between you. Her. Back to you. “Uh—sure. Yeah.”

When she finally walks away, you lean in close enough for him to smell your lip gloss.

“She’s in love with you.”

He rubs his face. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” you sing. “You could totally date her. She’s your type.”

He glances at you, then looks away. “You don’t know my type.”

“Don’t I?” You raise an eyebrow.

He hesitates. Swallows. look at you again. You hold the eye contact longer than necessary. Long enough to make him shift in his seat.

“I don’t think I like being studied,” he says softly.

“Then stop looking so interesting.”

—

On the weekend y'all at Jean’s apartment. Pizza boxes. Open textbooks. A Mario Kart tournament threatening to break a friendship or five.

Armin’s sitting on the floor, controller in hand. You’re on the couch, shamelessly watching him. the others are deep in a debate about which professor might be an alien, but you’re focused on the way Armin mutters when he loses a round.

“fuck,” he breathes under his breath. You almost drop your drink.

He catches you looking. smirks—just a little. and that is the moment you realize you’re in serious trouble.

because this boy? This nerd? With his quiet voice and his chaotic notes and his tragic sweaters? He might actually break your heart.

And worse — you might let him.

——

It's all fun and games until you start to have dreams about him. some very inappropriate dreams. involving library desks, a cardigan hitting the floor, and Armin’s voice in your ear saying “you asked for this study session.”

You always wake up hot and wet.

It’s barely 7 AM. You have a lecture in two hours. But your first conscious thought is ‘that mouth should be illegal’. Your second is to get it together. And your third?

You need to see him.

So you don’t bother with makeup. don't bother styling your hair. You pull on black sweats and a leather jacket and stomp onto campus with last night’s eyeliner and an agenda that has nothing to do with academic excellence.

Armin’s already at the student café, as usual — surrounded by books, headphones on, hoodie halfway swallowing his neck. He doesn’t notice you until you slide into the seat across from him.

“You look like you haven’t slept,” he says, blinking.

“That’s because I haven’t.” You point at your face. “Notice the sexy eye bags.”

Armin chuckles, soft and genuine. “You always show up like this?”

“Only for the people I’m trying to corrupt.”

He pauses. “So… just me?”

"Yup.”

There’s a flicker behind his glasses. You think it might be nerves. Or something darker.

You want to poke it. You will poke it.

“So,” you continue. “Tell me something nerdy.”

“...What?”

“Make me smarter. Ruin my street cred.”

Armin leans back. “Okay. Did you know sea otters hold hands when they sleep so they don’t drift apart?”

Your heart makes a weird thump. “That’s… aggressively adorable.”

“And that an octopus has three hearts and blue blood?”

“wait, for real?”

“Yeah.” He tilts his head. “Still feel like corrupting me?”

You grin. “Oh, absolutely.”

It’s raining. There’s only one couch cushion between you and Armin. Your Netflix “study break” has now turned into a two-hour true crime documentary, and at least once every ten minutes you feel his thigh shift next to yours.

Your laptop is open. Your notes are not.

Armin stretches, arms over his head, shirt riding up just enough to expose that his damn V line. The one that’s haunted your sleep since last week.

You don’t mean to stare.

You just… don’t not stare.

And Armin sees it.

He lowers his arms, clears his throat, then glances sideways at you. “You keep looking at me.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe I’m studying your anatomy.”

He says your name in a soft breath of warning, with big eyes, dilated pupils, lips parted.

You shift to face him. He’s closer than you thought. Close enough that the space between you feels like static — thick with unsaid things and half-bitten thoughts.

You should back off. You should laugh it off.

You don’t.

Instead, you whisper, “You ever think about kissing me?”

The silence stretches.

“Yes.” It’s so quiet you almost miss it. But it’s there.

“Yes?” you echo.

He meets your gaze. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t back down. “I’ve thought about it a lot.”

The air pulls tight between you. His lips are right there. He’s right there.

Your hand twitches, like maybe you’ll touch his cheek. Like maybe you’ll grab his collar and ruin every rule you’ve ever set for yourself. Because your mouth is five inches from his and it’s raining outside and—

A knock.

You jolt back like you’ve been slapped. Armin jumps up, flustered, knocking over a cup of pens. then race to the door before the moment can catch up to you.

“Oh, hey!” a feminine voice says too loudly. a voice you know well. How the fuck she always knows when you two are together. Mina has a fucking six senth for cock blocking or something? “I—I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop your USB from the group project. I checked and it has all the lecture slides on it— you left it in the lab.”

Armin takes it with a shaking smile, you could see how red he is from the couch. “Oh! Cool. Thanks.”

She peers around, eyes narrowing. “Is she here?”

“Yes.”

“Studying?”

Your eyes meet and you hold her gaze, while grinning “Eventually.”

she blushes and apologizes, giving Armin a rushed and tiny ‘goodbye’.

The blonde man closes the door with a sigh, and when he comes back to the couch, pretending like nothing almost happened, you start to think the universe is actually laughing at you.

Why can't you make out with your nerdy man in peace?

——

Later that night you’re alone again, lying on your bed, phone face-up beside you. You keep replaying his voice.

“I’ve thought about it a lot.”

You don’t sleep well.

And neither does he.

Because two blocks away, Armin is staring at his ceiling, hand in his hair, wondering how close he came to losing control — to kissing the girl with stormcloud eyes and tattooed skin and a laugh that lives rent-free in his skull.

The girl nobody thinks would ever want him.

Except maybe — she does.

part II>

[ruinix]

smut. can you write something with Luke where the reader has a breeding kink and Luke is kind of surprised?

Hiiii, lovely. How are you? 😌 I hope you're ready for straight up smut 😌😌😌 You might want to kick me into my jail cell for this. I'm ready. Lock me up, i say while offering my hands. 🧎🏻‍♀️ Anyway, this is just a short one. Also, spy the new break I made. The leaves and flowers are totally evenly spaced (i'm coping).

Something New and More

18+. Whore Thoughts. Smut. Unprotected Sex. Breeding Kink (context in the fic: Luke always pulls out and well.... 😏)

Luke didn't hear you at first. He couldn't comprehend your words

His mind was focus on the feel of your hands rubbing and clenching on his arms, on the sight of your tits bouncing and pressing against his chest, on the tremble of your stomach, scent of you—your shampoo and conditioner, your body wash, your lotion or oil, basically everything—and especially the way your pussy clenching around his cock.

The slick sound of skin meeting skin, of your slickness squelching, of your breathy moans and groans, and your mutterings of his name was echoing in his ears and down his soul. Every time he fucked you, you rattled his very being.

And when your hand reached to cup his jaw, guiding him to look into your eyes, he felt like he was melting. Your thumb tracing over his bottom lip, slightly pressing downwards, had shivers ran down his spine. His blood was rushing to his cock and it ached. He want to come so badly. He needed to pull out, but he wanted...He wanted—

Then it clicked.

His hips slowed as he blinked at you. With a ragged voice, he asked, "What did you say?"

"I don't like it when you pull out. I—" your fingers tracing his jaw, then slipping to tug at his curls, "—need you to come inside. Please, Luke, inside. Need it inside my pussy."

He stilled, leaning his forehead against yours, because he felt himself leak. He panted, his heart thundering in his chest, his weight almost crushing you but he couldn't care. He needed the close proximity to keep himself from fraying. He grunted as your pussy squeezed once and fucking twice.

Your legs crossed tighter around his lower back, gripping him tightly. Your hips rolling, urging him to move, you continued, "I want you to cum in my pussy like you want to breed me. Fill me up, Luke. Please."

Luke almost came from your words alone, from your whiny and pleading voice. Honestly, he was shocked, because you'd never said that before. Not even the slightest hint. So, he was taken aback but fuck, he loved the sound of that.

He resumed his thrusts, smirking when you bit your lip, when your back arched as he angled his thrust to get deeper in your pussy.

"You want me to fuck you until it takes?" His lips ghosted yours, feeling the your soft and shaky breath. "You want me to fill you up with my cum and plug you with my cock?"

"Please, please, please," you begged again and again.

He snatched a pillow from the side. "Lift your hips," He whispered with kisses between each word.

You barely did because he was still on you, but he managed to slip the pillow underneath your ass. He lifted, his hands gripping your waist and hip.

He fucked you harder and harder. His sweet girl wanted him to come inside, so he would. But he needed you to come first. You first. Always.

He rolled his hips, slamming into you in deep and full strokes that pounded right against the spot that had you screaming his name in loud and breathy moans that drew his own. He grunted and groaned, loving the way he brings you pleasure. He would never get tired of this.

He didn't stop until your legs twitched and pussy was trembling and coming around his aching cock. He rode your orgasm, teasing your clit, gripping your hips so tightly that he knew he would leave fingerprint bruises.

A few more strokes and he came, releasing his hot cum as deep as he could. He gritted his teeth as your pussy gripped him like vice, convulsing and so fucking greedy for his cum.

"Fuck, it feels so good, Luke. I feel so full," you cried, your tears falling from the corners of your eyes. "Kiss me."

Luke wasted no time. He kissed you so tenderly while also roughly, panting into your lips as he spurted the last beads of his cum. It was clear that you enjoyed it. Luke did too. He knew he wouldn't pull out anymore. No fucking way. Not after he saw how happy you looked.

For minutes, with his half-hard cock plugging you, he kissed and whispered soft praises for taking him so well, his hands caressing your arms, your waist, and your already tender hips. He softly apologized for them while he teased that he would give you more.

Then, after a few more, when you were ready to go again, your hips rolling as your hand lightly pressed on his abdomen, he was too. His cock was still so sensitive, but he didn't let it stop him from starting again.

Because he must give you more.

Totally holding back from typing the whole LYHFML fron Shatter Me (bevause duh). Gosh i need to resume reading that series (i only read the first three). I miss Aaron Warner.

I need to sleep earlier...it's 3AM....umm good night!! 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

Lovelies @dancerbailey3 @loser-pretty-girl @tiredallthetimex @quinnintheabyss @r0wdymaize86 @macka @hughesmybaby @hockeygirlyyyy @siennaluvshcky @arty-anon @hodgepodge-musings

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