#but apparently most other people i asked to read to me made it clear they didn't want to entertain a toddler

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 | angus tully x reader (series finale)

read 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 and 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 first!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | angus has been waiting to see you again, but the more feelings get involved, the more complicated your affair becomes.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), mega angst but also fluff too, infidelity, boring old people parties, reader is still emotionally constipated and angus still has a breeding kink, but that's honestly it it's just a bunch of emotions so strap in folks!

Angus was pretty sure he broke some kind of record, with how quickly he ran back to his room after talking to you on the payphone.

He was sure that was exactly what you were picturing him doing— he’d made it pretty clear what he’d do once you hung up, and you’d made it pretty difficult to do anything else with the way you were talking.  You’d been winding him up on purpose, of course; so yes, you could easily imagine him making a mad dash to his room and slamming the door— if you really ever thought about him outside of those phone calls.

That was the thing Angus couldn’t figure out about you.  Well, there were probably a lot of other things than that, but it was the quandary he spent the most time pondering: does she think about me?

Whenever he mustered the courage to ask you something to that effect, you would either change the subject or give a half-answer.  Something about how you had a dream about him the other night or how your parents asked about him— never what he was really asking.

But, frankly, at that moment as he shut his dorm room door and jumped into bed, whether or not you thought about him much was not as pertinent an issue.  Right then, all he could think about was getting his hand around his raging boner; his mind was just playing everything you’d said to him over the phone on repeat.

I’m touching myself right now, you’d whispered in a sultry voice, I’m so wet, Angus— fuck, I’m so wet…

He’d never had to work so hard to keep a straight face on the phone before… he figured if anyone was really looking, they’d notice how red he was turning or how he kept shifting uncomfortably.  And he told you just as much, which of course only encouraged you.  Don’t want them to know, huh? you’d taunted. Don’t want the other boys to find out you’re listening to me get off?

And no, he didn’t— you were such a precious thing, the boys here didn’t even deserve to imagine you— but when you offered to stop if it was too distracting, he only found himself shakily begging for more.

As he quickly opened his khaki pants and gripping his cock, he hissed through his teeth; his ego could barely take all you’d said about that cock, about how thick and ‘perfect’ (you used that exact word, perfect, and he thought he might float) it was, about how you wished you could come around it right then instead of your fingers.

“It’s all yours,” he mumbled to himself, under his breath, not even really noticing he was saying it aloud.  “You want it, baby?  It’s all fucking yours.”

He groaned as he stroked himself, the precum that had been leaking from his tip for a while making everything even easier.  Shutting his eyes tight, he pictured you, like he always did: all of you, everything, anything he could remember.

You ever think about me? you’d asked him over the phone— and he’d blurted out his always before he even realized you meant while he was getting off.  It was still true, but more specific than necessary.  He craved to hear you say it: I think about you too.  But he didn’t ask, and you just went back to moaning while you rubbed your clit— which, apparently, was already swollen and throbbing— and, well, he wasn’t strong enough to interrupt that.

“Fuck,” he grunted, deep in the back of his throat, finally letting his pace pick up until his hand was a blur: after all that anticipation and all that waiting, there was no use trying to hold back now.  It wasn’t like you were here to worry about him coming too fast, even though you’d still maintained you found it endearing when it happened.

He repeated your voice in his head, the moment that had made him worry he would blow his load in his trousers before he could even get off the phone and back to his room: I’m gonna come for you, you’d warned him in the most beautiful moaning voice, Angus— I want you so bad, oh god— I’m gonna come for you, fuck…

His lip caught between his teeth, his hips rocked up into his own palm.  “Yes, fuck, baby,” he panted, “I— fuck!”

He tried to conjure in his mind how it had felt to come inside you, but he knew even his vivid imagination could never really capture the feeling; nothing could even come close.  Still, remembering it and letting himself indulge in his strangest fantasies for just a moment sent him over the edge.  His face flushed suddenly as he came in long, heavy pulses, the back of his free hand falling over his open mouth yet doing little to suppress his moans.

It was intense— it was certainly better than his orgasms usually were when brought on by himself— but it only satisfied him for a moment.  The moment he was finished, with a deep breath in and his hips relaxing back down onto the mattress, he wanted more— he wanted you.

His heavy eyes glanced to the side, trying to remember what it felt like to lie next to you.  He’d never felt lonely after jerking off before he met you; now getting off seemed to bring a new wave of heartbreak each time.

When he shook off the thought and looked down at himself, he frowned as he realized he’d ruined his own shirt doing that— not that he could fully bring himself to regret it.

No, his regrets only really began a few weeks later, when the nagging loneliness in the back of his mind finally got the better of him.

It was the middle of the night when he wrote it, after he woke up from a dream of you that he just couldn’t shake from his mind.  After checking that his roommate was fast asleep, Angus carefully slipped out of bed and tip-toed to the desk, and pulling out a box of cards and envelopes from one of the drawers.  (He thought he’d never use them when his mom sent them with him at the beginning of the year, but a lot had changed since then.)

Something about the ungodly hour made him more honest— or maybe just more shameless.  He wrote a frantic ramble, everything he’d wanted to say to you that he’d never had the courage to blurt out over the phone; all the feelings he’d felt since that incredible night in the backseat of your car, which he’d assumed would fade… which he’d tried to convince himself would fade.

Unfortunately, even the adrenaline of writing down the thoughts of you he’d been poring over for over a month wasn’t enough to overpower exhaustion: he awoke the next morning slumped over the desk, the pen still uncapped and fallen a few inches from his hand, the letter left folded open.

He awoke to the sound of someone’s door shutting down the hall, specifically; jumping and blinking quickly, he looked at the window— it was morning, though still quite early— and then at his roommate who was, thank god, still asleep.

Angus looked back at the letter in front of him, only making out a few words in his brief glance, before his cheeks began to heat up and he quickly folded it shut.  As more footsteps moved through the hall, the boy in the bed nearby stirred and grumbled to himself, and Angus quickly snatched up the letter and shoved it in his book bag before he was caught red-handed.

Ironically, that little commotion was what actually got the other boy’s attention.  “What are you doing at the desk?” he asked groggily, rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his palm.

“Oh, I, uh— I had to do some late night cramming,” Angus explained nervously, “that big Geography test coming up and all…”

The half-awake boy seemed to notice for a moment that the story didn’t really make sense, on account of the empty desk, but he simply shrugged and tossed his blanket aside to get up as well.

For the rest of the day, Angus couldn’t think straight— and not just because of his mediocre rest and achy back from the absolutely terrible sleep posture he’d had.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the letter, even if he honestly couldn’t remember for certain everything he’d said… he couldn’t stop wondering if he should send it to you.  He almost didn’t want to read it again first— he wanted you to read it in its most authentic state, he wanted to mail it before he chickened out just like he had when you said you two could just stay casual.  Even if it made his heart race and his palms especially clammy, Angus decided in the middle of that goddamned Geography test that he was going to mail that letter tonight after dinner: he was finally just going to man up and tell you.

Of course, something went horribly wrong along the way: he made a fatal mistake.  Looking back on it, he couldn’t tell for certain if his mistake was falling for you in the first place, or writing the infamous letter, or shoulder-checking Kountze without holding on tight enough to his bag.

The argument that happened beforehand was petty and forgettable, even if it gathered a small crowd of Kountze’s friends, but it ended with Angus trying to walk away a tad… aggressively, and with Kountze grabbing him by the strap of his bag which not only knocked Angus off-balance but spilled the contents onto the floor of the dorm’s shared room.

Everyone saw the books and papers hit the ground; everyone saw the off-white cardstock land right on top.  Angus reached for the letter quickly, but Kountze beat him there, and held it back with a snicker.

“Well, well,” Kountze tutted proudly, “what’s this?”

“H-hey, don’t read that,” Angus warned, hoping the seriousness of his tone would somehow affect the other boy— but, obviously, it did not.  Kountze started to open it and Angus instantly made a dive for it, only to be stopped by three other students who apparently were curious as well about the letter.  “Don’t fucking read that!” Angus demanded.

“Oh god, it’s to a girl!” he realized.  “Do you have a girlfriend, Tully?”

“I swear to god, Kountze, if you fucking read that—”

“I miss you,” Kountze began to read aloud as Angus thrashed around to try to stop him, “I miss you so much I don’t even know what to say.”

The boys holding Angus back were enraptured as Kountze read the letter; “Do you guys pay this much attention in class?” he mocked them, though they were ignoring him completely as they waited for the other boy to keep reading.

“I feel like I can’t breathe without you— aw, Tully, you’re a poet,” Kountze mocked with a smile.  Angus’ heart raced as he remembered what part of the letter came next.  “Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you and your smile— Jesus, this is some really sappy shit— or what it’s like talking with you for hours, or how it feels—”

He stopped, and Angus froze, and after a moment the group of boys started demanding the conclusion.  “What— what does it say?!” “Read it, Kountze!”

“How it feels to be inside you,” Kountze continued with wide eyes, staring at Angus’ bright red face as the other boys began to react loudly.

Angus renewed his struggle against the kids holding him back, but even though he was taller than them, he was severely outnumbered.  “Stop— that’s personal!” Angus demanded to no avail.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my hand after having you,” Kountze continued with a laugh.  “From what I hear from your roommate, Tully, your hand is treating you just fine.”

“Shut up,” Angus hissed, but his words had lost their bite as his humiliation grew.

“I should’ve told you before I left—” he started, but finally Angus found some new strength within himself to shake off the boys holding him back: he dove at Kountze and took him down, scrambling to snatch the card away.  He was going to be satisfied with just that, but of course Kountze still had to open his mouth, even when Angus had him pinned.  “Jesus, Tully,” he scoffed, “how ugly is this chick that you got her to sleep with you?”

Angus brought a fist swiftly down to Kountze’s nose, who groaned in pain and held his face as Angus got up and ran away.  The other boys let him pass, thankfully, and Angus wasted no time getting to his room and slamming the door behind him.

Defiantly wiping a tear from his cheek, Angus took a quick look at the letter— wrinkled, stained and scuffed from the fight with Kountze— and crumpled it up, tossing it into his wastebasket before throwing himself onto his bed and hiding his head under the pillow.

He was stupid to even write it, let alone consider sending it; it was no use, you obviously didn’t feel the same way about him that he did about you.  You were the one who said it should just be what it was— a fling.  But Angus felt like he’d been flung directly into hell, the way it tore into his chest to imagine you didn’t really want him.

Even if he never read the letter again that day, he remembered how it ended— and it was the part he couldn’t get out of his mind even when he wanted more than anything to forget it all.

Is this what love feels like?

//

It reminded you a lot of that dinner over Christmas break, except somehow, it seemed like he was staring at you even more.  Shouldn’t he have gotten that out of his system a bit by now?

But then again, maybe you should’ve been more used to it, since it had been over an hour of picking away at this quail dinner, and he’d barely taken his eyes off of you.  Something about him looked different; it was basically impossible that he could’ve visibly aged in just a couple months, and yet he seemed like he was carrying just a bit more age on those thin shoulders.  Maybe it was just the slight five-o-clock shadow over his jaw— but, no, there was a different look in his eyes, too—

Realizing you were, in fact, staring back at him, you quickly snapped your gaze back down to your plate.

You’d been wanting a chance to talk to him before this dinner, to hopefully prevent exactly this issue, but once the dinner ended you found yourself avoiding him.  Of course you weren’t ready to talk to him— of course you had a million thoughts in your head and half of them didn’t even make sense.

For once, you actually tried to talk to all of your parents’ snooty friends, repeating the same answers over and over about how you were going to graduate school in the fall and how you were looking forward to your family’s Paris trip in the summer and all that jazz.  It was worth it to keep Angus off your back for a moment, even if you could still feel his eyes boring into said back from time to time.

Midway through a mind-numbingly boring conversation (if something so one-sided could be called a conversation) with the Gordons about renovations they’d done on their summer house, you glanced around the room over your shoulder and noticed that Angus was apparently absent.  His parents were still there, sitting on a couch— that is, his mom and stepdad— so he couldn’t be far, but out of view he was far enough.  Figuring he’d gone to the kitchen or the restroom, you figured it was the perfect time to disappear into the downstairs bedroom and, hopefully, hide out for the rest of the party.  Excusing yourself quickly, you made a polite dash for the other end of the room.

And yet, somehow, he appeared out of thin air; as you turned down the hallway, only a dim lamp on an antique credenza lighting your way, you heard Angus’ hushed voice behind you.  He laid his hand on your shoulder, and the moment you turned to face him, he was on you— his weight pressed you into the wall and you felt trapped in a way that was annoyingly pleasant.

“God, I missed you,” he breathed, kissing you hard and sudden; you whimpered a little, nearly melting into it, before you pushed him back at his shoulders.

“A-Angus, wait,” you sighed.  “You, um… you didn’t call for a while.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, “um, I’m sorry— I just got busy with midterms and stuff— but I really wanted to!”

He moved like he was about to kiss you again, but you kept your hand on his chest to keep him away.  “I wanted to tell you…” you trailed off.

“Tell me what?”

“You remember Brian Stevenson?” 

“Oh— um, yeah, I guess so,” Angus frowned a little, clearly confused by what seemed like a non sequitur.  “I used to go over to his house when I was little, although it was just to play with his little brother, but… yeah, I remember him.”

“I’ve been sorta, y’know… going with him,” you explained, hesitantly meeting Angus’ gaze just in time to see the most terrible sadness cover his face.

“O-oh,” he choked out, quickly stepping back from you and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah…” you mumbled, twisting your loafer-clad foot on the carpet nervously.  “It’s just, you know, he asked me out a couple weeks ago, and ever since then—”

“So is he, like, your boyfriend?” Angus pressed.  You nodded.  He looked away.  “Right— that’s… cool.  That’s cool.”

You bit your lip slightly, hating that he wouldn’t look at you all of a sudden.  “Angus, it’s just that, you know, we said—”

“Right,” he interrupted sharply.  “Right, I remember what we said— what you said, that we weren’t— you know.  That it wasn’t anything.”

“I didn’t say that—” you tried to correct him.

“You said you were mine,” he added suddenly, making your eyes widen.  “Did you even mean that?”

“I— Angus, come on,” you laughed nervously.  “That’s… that’s just something people say…”

He scoffed, and looked to the side as he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek; contempt looked sort of good on him, you thought, except that it was directed at you.  He was trying to hide it, but his eyes were watering.

“I’m sorry,” you began but he cut you off right away.

“No, don’t do that,” he shook his head quickly, crossing his arms and staring down at the floor.  “Don’t lie to me anymore.”

“No— I really am,” you tried to assure.

“Hey, it’s fine,” he insisted sharply.  “It’s— you know, it is what it is.  It was just one of those things.”

“If it’s fine, then look at me,” you pleaded.  He didn’t.  And for a long moment, the two of you stood there, still and silent.

“It’s fine,” he repeated softly, turning on his heel.

“Angus, wait,” you hissed, not wanting to raise your voice with all the guests not too far away— of course, it was fruitless, and he briskly blended back in with the crowd.

Sighing, you dropped your head into your hands.  That wasn’t how you ever wanted this to go, you never wanted to hurt him; honestly, you’d assumed he’d be irritated, but not… sad.  Not devastated.  Of course he would prefer to be getting laid, but you figured he wouldn’t have too much trouble finding some other girl to screw around with— sometimes, you’d wondered if he already had.

It was supposed to be easy, it was supposed to be casual, it was supposed to be fun.  You couldn’t think of anything you’d ever done, or anything you’d ever felt, that was less fun than this.

//

It made a strange sort of sense that the next time you saw him was at another party.  Of course, this party was entirely different from the last one: for one, it was hosted by your boyfriend, and there sure as hell wasn’t any quail.  There was a lot more alcohol, though.

You were hanging off to the side, not feeling quite up for mixing in with the crowd as they danced to the record Brian had put on.  Even if they spared you from the same boring questions that your parents’ friends bombarded you with, they were uninteresting in their own way as every conversation seemed to come back to politics or pot.

Brian startled you a bit by coming up beside you, resting his hand on the small of your back.  “Hey,” he greeted, and you smiled up at him.  Your eyes lingered on his face— he looked… grown up.  It was probably just because he had a beard; he certainly didn’t always act grown up, but overall, Brian was perfectly acceptable.  He’d asked you out, he’d actually had the bravery for that, so that was a great head start.

You tried to shake the thought out of your mind, looking away from him; it wasn’t a head start because this wasn’t a race.  Who, after all, would he be racing against?

For some reason, your eyes turned to the front door— and you bit your lip as you saw Angus coming inside, slipping off his coat and looking around the room (for you, presumably).  He looked even more haggard than before: a little pale, eyes sunken and dark, and he definitely hadn’t shaved since you saw him.

Brian looked to find where you were staring, and frowned slightly.  “Who’s that?” he asked.

“Oh, um— Angus Tully, his parents are friends with mine, I used to babysit him when he was a kid.”

You knew that wasn’t really what he was asking, so you weren’t surprised when he got to the point more directly: “What’s he doing here?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, hoping Brian wouldn’t somehow figure out that your heart was racing.

Brian’s hand moved up to your shoulder and gave it a squeeze, just as Angus noticed you and hurriedly shoved his way through the crowd to come face-to-face with you.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice raspy and hurried as he took a quick glance at Brian in his peripheral.

“Um— sure,” you agreed awkwardly, not sure which answer would be less suspicious.  Of course, when you glanced at Brian, he just looked mildly annoyed— bored, even.  You realized in that moment that you didn’t need to worry about him suspecting you and Angus of anything, because he barely registered Angus’ existence: he certainly wouldn’t acknowledge him as some kind of sexual threat.

“Privately,” Angus added— and that actually got Brian’s attention, though he seemed more aware of your discomfort than anything.

“Anything you wanna say to her, you can say in front of me,” Brian assured firmly, and Angus swallowed anxiously— it was obvious from the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“Actually, uh, somebody was looking for you out front,” Angus told him.  “Something about a keg getting delivered to the wrong house?”

“Shit,” Brian hissed, dropping his hand from your shoulder and looking towards the door again.  “Fucking idiots…”

Having made quick work of Brian, Angus put his attention back on you.  “Let’s go outside,” he suggested.

“W-we can just talk here,” you tried to say, but he was already grabbing your wrist and guiding you out; why did your heart still skip when he touched you?

Once he’d taken you through the kitchen and out to the back porch— where you could still hear the music and chatter, but it was much quieter— you spoke.

“Angus, I really am sorry about— you know— but you can’t just—” you started.

“It’s not over yet,” he insisted, surprising you with his intensity; you leaned back against the wooden railing, and he stood just a little too close with those dark brown eyes piercing through you.

“If you tell me you’re happy with Brian, I’ll leave you alone,” Angus decided, puffing up his chest a bit.

“I’m happy with Brian,” you said sternly.

A brief moment passed.  “Okay, I lied,” Angus admitted.

“Jesus,” you hissed.

“But only because I don’t believe you!” he explained.  “We were so good together.”

“Yeah, we were,” you admitted, “but… it’s over now.”

“No— it’s not.  It can’t be!” he insisted with a whine, and you scoffed as you shook your head.

“Angus, you’re being childish,” you scolded.

“Oh, don’t say that,” he grimaced.  “Don’t hold that against me— I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Of course you’re not— but you’re not thinking clearly.”

“Damn right I’m not!” he spat.  “You’re all I could think about, for months!  Months, I couldn’t fucking get you out of my head!  And not just the, you know, the dirty stuff— everything.  Every moment I spent with you, every dumb thing we talked about for hours, every time you laughed at one of my shitty jokes—”

“Angus, please,” you breathed, glancing down; you could only take so much of this, and you worried he was figuring that out.

“Does he make you laugh?” Angus pressed, stepping a bit closer to you.  “Does he make you feel special?  Does he make you come?”

“Yes,” you said sharply, “he’s great, okay?  I’m happy— so please just stop fucking this up for me.”

“Okay, fine,” he conceded, “you’re happy, I believe you.  But… but what about me, y’know?  He doesn’t need you like I do.”

Your face warmed up and you crossed your arms tighter, staring down at the ground.

“Of course he likes you— who wouldn’t?  But he couldn’t even imagine how I feel about you— how long I’ve been thinking about you.  I mean, I’ve wanted you since I was a kid!  You’re my dream girl!”

“That’s— that has nothing to do with me,” you tried to explain.  “That’s a fantasy!”

“But it’s real, baby,” he sighed, bringing his hands up to gently hold your arms at either side.  “It’s so real, you know it is.”

You didn’t even have the heart to deny it— or to tell him not to call you that.  You knew if you looked up at him, you wouldn’t be able to fight him anymore; he must’ve known that, too, because he delicately lifted your chin until you met his gaze.

And then he kissed you: tender, sweet, and shameless.  He didn’t care if anyone saw, if anyone knew— even Brian.  You, on the other hand, still cared enough to try to stop him; but even you couldn’t resist a kiss like this, and you found your hands pulling him closer as quickly as they’d tried to push him away.

He took you home, without another word about what this meant or where you stood with each other.  You snuck him into your room and he climbed into bed with you and he touched you like he’d been waiting a lot longer than just a few months for this moment.  Frankly, you were beginning to realize that you’d been waiting a lot longer for this, too.

Before, Angus had always been talkative during sex— sometimes annoyingly so.  But this time, he didn’t say a damn thing; neither of you did.  And yet, somehow, just by the way he looked at you, just by the way he held you, just by the way he moved inside you... you felt like you heard more than you ever had.

//

You sat next to each other on the bench, staring forward into the dark treeline ahead— there was still a layer of frost around their roots, and a new snow had begun to fall even if it wasn’t cold enough for it to stick on the pavement.  You tried not to look at him too long, in case it made this any harder, but you did appreciate that he seemed a bit more put together than he had the last time you went a few days without seeing him.  He was clean-shaven, too… is it wrong that you kinda missed the stubble?

“Thanks for, you know… giving me a couple days to think about it,” you mumbled, and he nodded.

“I thought you might have somewhere better to be on a Friday night,” he said— trying to lighten the mood a bit, you could tell; trying to make you comfortable.

“Well, even if I did, I think this needs to be done,” you explained, and he pressed his lips together a bit.

He waited patiently, though, for you to break the silence and explain yourself, even if he didn’t seem too surprised when you did it.

“It was a mistake,” you decided.  “It was great, but it was a mistake— and I’d really appreciate if we could just… let it go.  And if you didn’t tell Brian.”

“Okay,” he nodded slowly.  “I wasn’t gonna tell him.  But I still think you should dump him.”

“Well, that’s my decision,” you reminded him, crossing your arms.

“I know,” he breathed.

You could already tell, just by the way the next silence began, that he was going to interrupt it with something stupid… you just never expected how stupid.

“The thing is— I love you,” he blurted out suddenly, turning to look at you again as your eyes widened.  “I fucking love you.”

“Angus, I— you can’t—!” you choked out, but he continued before you could try to think of a response.

“I know I do— don’t say I don’t know what that is, or that I’m too young or something stupid like that,” he pleaded.  “I know how I feel, okay?  When you miss somebody this much, when you think about somebody this much— what else could love be, but that?”

You sighed, looking away, and he moved closer to you on the bench.  Even if you knew it was preposterous that someone else would be in the park at the end of the street at this time of night, you still fought the urge to look over your shoulder.

“Don’t tell me I’m crazy,” he breathed.  “You love me too, don’t you?  I mean— I thought you basically forgot I existed, but last night… that sort of thing doesn’t just happen, does it?  It’s not… it’s not usually like that.”

“No, it’s not,” you admitted, “that was different.”

He perked up, smiling wide when you looked at him again.  “Just say it,” he begged, “say you love me too— ‘cause I know you do.”

“I— Angus, it’s more complicated than that,” you explained.  “We’re still— there’s Brian, for one thing… we can’t really go on like this, you know that.”

“I know— I don’t want to keep doing this.  I want to really be together,” he replied.  You tried to turn your body away from his slightly, but he grabbed your hands and held them tight until you looked at him again.  “I’m almost done with high school— I’ll go to college where you’re going for grad school!”

You shook your head.  “No, you can’t do that.”

“Just think about it: us, together— we could actually go on real dates, and go to college parties together, and, like, study out at the library— or, you know, whatever you college kids do,” he fantasized.  You smiled, but shook your head again.

“We… we can’t do that,” you denied.

He frowned, and turned away from you, staring darkly at the ground.  “I knew it,” he mumbled, shaking his head.  “You’re embarrassed— you’re ashamed of me.”

“What?!” you blurted out.  “Angus, no—”

“It’s okay,” he said in a terribly unconvincing way, crossing his arms.  “I don’t blame you: I’m just some dumb kid from your hometown.  You want a guy your age— not some random freshman… you want something better.”

“That’s bullshit,” you replied instantly, “you can do so much better.”

“C’mon, I’ll never do better than you,” he insisted.

Even though he’d misunderstood you, your heart still swelled a bit at the compliment.  “I meant for college, Angus,” you explained, and he deflated a little.  “You can do a lot better than a state school.”

“Well, I, um… I don’t know if I can,” he admitted nervously.  “My grades are kinda… inconsistent.  And I went to so many different high schools—”

“Who gives a shit?” you scoffed.  “You’re fucking smart— way smarter than anybody else here.  You act like an idiot sometimes, but you’re eighteen, it kinda comes with the territory.”

He frowned, but couldn’t exactly deny it.

“You deserve to go somewhere amazing,” you told him.  “You need to go somewhere amazing— and do something amazing.”

For a long moment, he just stared out into the dark; until, suddenly, he whipped his head back around at you with a quizzical look on his face.  “Wait— is that what this is all about?”

“What?”

“Do you not want to be with me because you think you’d, like, hold me back or something?” he accused.

You blinked quickly; something about the way he said be with me caught you off-guard— like it was a term much more mature than you had expected from him.  Instead of answering directly, you just stammered.  “Well, y-you’re young, and—” 

He cut you off quickly with a laugh.  “Oh my god!  You think I give a shit about that?”

“No,” you shot back, “but you should.  You realize how fucking dumb it would be to change your whole life for the first person you ever slept with?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds dumb,” he admitted, looking down at his feet swinging over the edge.  “But what if it’s somebody that, you know, you think you really have a shot with?  What if it’s somebody that you feel like you can’t live without?  Somebody that makes you finally get all those songs you hear on the radio—”

“It only feels like this to you because you’ve never felt anything else,” you explained gently.  “It’s your first love.  It fades.”

“But I don’t want it to,” he said instantly, looking at you with the most heartbreaking eyes you’d ever seen.  “God, I don’t want it to.”

You looked up at him as his hand brushed over your face, and felt tears welling before you could fight them off; he kissed you, in a way that you thought he might have never really kissed you before.  In a way nobody had kissed you before, in fact.  It wasn’t very long, but it felt like it might as well have gone on forever.

When he broke away, he kept his eyes shut, and he pressed his forehead to yours as his thumb stroked your cheek.  “Tell me it doesn’t have to end,” he breathed, “please.  Tell me it’s not going to end.”

“It has to,” you whispered back, watching his shoulders sink and bringing your hand up to clutch at his chest.  “It has to end, someday.”

You took a shaky breath, watching a tear fall from his jaw onto your arm, feeling everything you’d held back finally breaking through as your grip on shirt tightened and your lip began to quiver.

“But it doesn’t have to be tonight,” you sighed.

Gasping with relief and joy simultaneously, he kissed you again, and pulled you closer at your waist, and wrapped you up in his arms tightly.

There was, of course, this nagging voice at the back of your mind— that maybe it didn’t have to end.  And god, you wanted to silence that thought permanently if you could, because it had never done you any good.  That hope had only ever led to pain before.  But, without it, nothing would ever really have a chance: if you weren’t willing to risk the heartache, you’d never let yourself love Angus the way that he deserved and the way that you knew, deep down, you already did.

So, as he kissed you that way you thought people only kissed in movies, and whispered to you those words you thought people only said because they were poets and dreamers, you realized that maybe it didn’t have to end someday.  Maybe he would spend the next several years of your lives convincing you that you didn’t need to protect yourself from your own feelings.  Maybe he would actually have the patience to break down walls he never built, to fix wounds he didn’t leave.  Maybe he was ready to give you something to believe in, something worth taking risks for while you were still young and reckless.  Maybe he, like the oncoming equinox, would melt your ice so new life could grow.

Or, maybe, this feeling he had really would fade once he gained a little more life experience; maybe you would make too many mistakes for him to forgive.  Maybe you would always be friends, or maybe you would have too much history to be able to see each other again.  Maybe you would grow apart— maybe you would have to brace yourself for that, to sit next to him on a cold dorm room mattress as you both realized it just wasn’t working anymore.

The most important thing that you realized in that moment— that eternal moment in his arms, in the dark, in the last snow of Spring— was that it didn’t matter.  It didn’t have to be forever to be perfect; it didn’t have to be the ending to be beautiful.  He loved you.  Even if you were still trying to figure out why, he loved you; and that was true, and real, and special.  His love couldn’t fix you, but it made you feel fixable, and you hadn’t seen yourself that way in a long time— you could only dream that you might see yourself the way he saw you.

When you pulled back from the kiss for a moment, you smiled wide— you laughed, actually— and sniffled as he wiped your tears away.  “I love you,” you told him, and even though he kissed you again, you didn’t stop saying it.  You wanted to keep it on your lips until it didn’t scare you anymore; you wanted to keep your heart open, even if it made you vulnerable, maybe because it made you vulnerable.  After all, you couldn’t ever be sure it wouldn’t come back to bite you… if you could, it wouldn’t mean anything.

Even though all you said to him was I love you, each one meant something a bit different.  I trust you.  I’m not sure I’m ready, but I’m going to try.  I’m sorry.  I’m so glad I met you.  I’ll never forget you.  Please don’t let me go.

Somehow, you felt like he heard each one.  Each time he told you that he loved you, though, you heard the same thing: I won’t let you go, ever.

//

Easter Mass was relatively pleasant, if a little too long.  You did notice Angus sitting with his family, across the aisle and a few rows back, but you only gave him a quick wave before the service started and managed to resist glancing back at him after that.

The best part of Easter was always afterwards, though: you stood at the furthest end of the lawn, in front of the ivy-covered exterior wall of the chapel, as children ran around snatching up colorful eggs to collect for their baskets.  Even if it was totally stupid, and irrelevant to the actual message of the holiday that the priest had just spent the whole service hammering in, you got a kick out of the fancy clothes and tiny dress shoes, the squeals of delight, the candy and toys in bright pastels.  You were just thankful the weather had warmed up in the nick of time for all the festivities— indoor egg hunts never have quite the same effect.

Angus sauntered up beside you, sipping on a styrofoam cup of complimentary coffee, and you didn’t even look at each other, but you both smiled.

“They’re cute,” he stated after a little while.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Do you wanna have a kid?” he asked, and you gave him a hesitant glance only to find him looking right back at you— his expression was friendly, but neutral enough that you couldn’t read if he meant having a kid with him or just, you know, in general.

Deciding it must be the second one, you let out a soft, nervous laugh.  “Uh, I dunno… maybe someday,” you offered, as non-committal as possible.

“How about right now?” he challenged, lowering his voice slightly, but not enough to stop you from glancing around to make sure nobody heard.

“Angus, fucking Christ,” you coughed.  “Don’t joke about that.”

“I’m not,” he shrugged.  “I mean, maybe I’m not being literal, but that doesn’t mean I’m not being serious.”

“Well… we can’t,” you mumbled, looking out at the lawn again, hoping not to stand out too much.  “Not here.”

“I know, I know,” he agreed, and the two of you fell back into a silence— an oddly comfortable one, even.  You crossed your arms as you watched the kids run around and he kept sipping on his coffee.  After a few moments, though, you spoke again.

“Meet you in the Sunday school room in the West wing in five minutes?”

“Yup,” he said, already turning to leave.  You smiled slightly to yourself, glancing down at your white shoes planted in the grass.  Even on such a delicately-manicured lawn, wildflowers were already springing up— little periwinkle diamonds scattered here and there.

When what felt like a reasonable amount of time passed, you made your careful and casual exit from the egg hunt to slip back inside.  Once you were away from the crowds and on your way to meet Angus, you couldn’t stop yourself from running… and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, either.

[sxcret-garden]

1st Desire ღ Testing Limits [M]

ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ words: ~5.9k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, parts of a very awkward kink negotiation turning into a slightly less awkward kink negotiation asdjflka, choking (reader receiving), unprotected sex, thigh riding, fingering, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms) ღ warnings: (mention of him running his hand through reader’s hair)

Desc.: You and your boyfriend decide to take a step towards a new chapter in your relationship when a secret desire of yours finally slips through. What you didn’t know until now is that he’s more experienced than you thought he was, and that you’re not the only one who’s been dying to spice up your sex life.

Author's note: aaaa I'm really nervous about how this series is gonna do, now that I'm finally putting out the first chapter!! I've been working on it for quite a while and it's become a very important project to me, so I hope y'all enjoy reading as much I enjoy writing it <3

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If someone asked you about the thing you appreciate the most about your boyfriend (at gunpoint, because there’s no way you could choose just one trait under normal circumstances), you’d say it’s his softness. A softness that’s apparent in his smile and in the way he treats people, yet only selected few get to see fully. You remember the first time you felt he was opening up to you a bit, granting you permission to see what’s going on inside, and how that was the moment you started falling in love with him. 

It’s the kindness in his words, behind the sound of his voice when he was reassuring you that he didn’t mind you calling him late at night and out of the blue because you needed someone to talk to, and he was the first person who came to mind. And the other way around, it’s the way he suddenly seemed very small as he crawled into his safe haven that has unmistakably become you when he went through a rough time. 

It’s how he talks to people in general, treating everyone with kindness first of all, because it’s among his core beliefs that everyone deserves to be faced with respect. And it’s the warmth that inevitably breaks through the cracks and to the outside when he smiles, laughs at some weird joke, or simply when he steps aside to make way for a complete stranger rushing past him in the crowd.

It’s how you feel when he holds you, wrapping his arms around you, the warmth of his body warming you up too, and you can finally let go of the tension you’ve been carrying within your bones all day. It’s the way he kisses you - you remember your first kiss that was merely lips brushing against each other in a feathery light touch, and the bright yet shy smile that took over his entire face right after, and you still recall how this too made you fall for him yet a little bit deeper. 

So why is it that you can’t but feel yourself bursting with excitement when he isn’t being soft at all?

It started quite early, in the blink of a moment and definitely not on purpose. You were out with some of his friends and some of your friends, and though most of them could sense there was something going on between the two of you, you weren’t official yet. And so it happened that one of his friends drunkenly, after visiting a bar not far from the place you had spent an entire afternoon together, tried to get close to you. It wasn’t to the point you would’ve felt uncomfortable - he started talking to you like one normally would when attempting to strike up a conversation, asking questions that made it clear he was interested in you. You didn’t find his way of chatting with you overbearing or anything, and you didn’t think much of it when he touched your arm seemingly mindlessly, but the second it striked you that just maybe this guy was glued to you a bit unusually much, Jongho stepped in. You can clearly recall the anger reflecting on his face, suddenly making an expression that didn’t show a single trace of the kindness you were used to. You don’t remember what exactly he said when he told the guy off, you barely even remember the shock apparent in your other friends’ hushed whispers as everyone seemed to agree that his reaction was a tad exaggerated. What you do recall was how it made your heart suddenly skip a beat. Back then you appointed this solely to your budding feelings for him and that you were crushing on him bad. However, with each time the memory came back to haunt you afterwards, it became more and more clear that there was something undeniably attractive about this side of him that is anything but soft. 

You also felt it when you were play fighting, like that time he momentarily raised his eyebrows at you almost mockingly, looking down at your smaller frame while holding an item just out of reach to mess with you as revenge, after you had managed to mildly piss him off. And even when that expression was wiped off his face mere seconds later as he handed you what you were desperately trying to reach with an apology accompanied by a sheepish smile, the pounding in your chest wouldn’t cease. 

And then there’s another situation where these complex desires you’re keeping hidden away mostly because you just don’t know how to bring them up to him keep taking over and clouding your mind, like a fire that’s only waiting to be ignited, in order to burn you up whole.

His lips brush against yours, parting from you after what can barely be considered a kiss. You feel his weight on top of you, he has your hands pinned against the bed to either side of your head, supporting himself like that as he rolls his hips into yours. Smooth and slow movements meant to satisfy you, but not for long, and yet the pleasure keeps building up in the pit of your stomach. 

“Fuck…” you mutter a curse, squeezing your eyes tightly shut in the race towards your high, and still you know he isn’t giving you everything yet. 

“You look so pretty like this.” The words slip past Jongho’s lips, and you sigh at the way they make you feel, only to take a glance at his face, seeing the desperate chase towards his high reflecting on his features as well. He lets go of one of your hands without changing the pace at which he thrusts into you, fingertips dancing down your arm until he reaches your jaw, loosely cupping your face. The touch sends an electric wave through your body, and you remember a distinct thought that keeps creeping into your mind time and time again these days. And now that he has brought his hand so close to where you’re aching to really have it, you can’t but put your own palm on top of it. If it hadn’t been for these coincidences, this, and the fact that just before he had pushed you down onto his bed to make love to you, this thought came to haunt you once again, you wouldn’t do what you’re about to do.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist, and without any signs of resistance, he lets you peel his hand off your cheek. However, when you place it on top of your throat instead, extending your neck almost instinctively when you feel his fingertips grazing your pulse, your boyfriend slows down, and eventually his movements come to a halt.

“Are you… are you sure about this?” As you hear him whisper those words, your first thought is that he must not like what you just did. But when you take a look at his face, and you see the way his eyes have undeniably darkened, his lips slightly parted as he tries to catch his breath, you feel like the complete opposite must be true.

“Yeah,” you mouth. “Been wanting to try this for so long…” Your confession causes yet another emotion to spark behind his gaze that’s suddenly so intent, and so much more intense than you’re used to. It takes him merely a moment to process your words, then he moves away from you with a muttered “wait”. Depriving you of both the touch against your throat that you’ve been longing for so much, and the sensation of him filling you up so perfectly leaves you feeling unexpectedly empty, but when he instead sits before you, taking you by the hands and pulling you towards him, you follow eagerly while something connects in your mind - he knows what he’s doing.

“Come here,” Jongho whispers, inviting you into his lap, his gaze finding your lips while he helps you move closer. “Ride me?” You can only nod once before he kisses you, allowing you to sink down on his length as he releases you and then reconnects your lips, and without hesitation you can feel him putting his hand around your nape again. He starts with bringing his palm up to your chest, moving it up unhurriedly, yet not letting you wait, and as soon as his thumb brushes across your throat, you break the kiss to throw your head back and you let out a soft moan. Your heart is racing like crazy from the simple motion alone, and he places his other hand onto your hip to guide you into a steady pace on top of him.

“You like that?” he asks, curiously, and yet you don’t miss the amused spark flaring up in his eyes when you glance at him.

“Yeah,” you reply honestly as your whole body heats up. It really does feel even better than you imagined it, like this one simple touch has engulfed you in flames, making you feel a kind of sensation you’ve never felt before. Your boyfriend moves his hand to the back of your head, entangling his fingers with the strands of your hair now, and you immediately furrow your brows in protest. It causes a smirk to appear on his lips, and the thumb of his hand resting on your hip finds its way to your clit, starting to give the sensitive bundle of nerves some attention.

“F-fuck…” you stutter, arms thrown around his shoulders and you let yourself fall forward in order to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Tutting at you, he brings his hand back to where you wanted it, pushing you away gently in order to be able to look at your face.

“Let me watch as you cum,” he mutters, his gaze taking in your features, and when you whimper in agreement he too lets out a breathy moan. Applying some more pressure to your clit, he never once takes his eyes off you as you’re racing towards your high - you can tell he’s enjoying this newfound power he has over you, and it’s getting him off too. 

Only a few more repetitions of your movements on top of him and your hips start to stutter, and when he moves his hand resting against your throat just a bit further up, blood rushes to your head at once. You know you won’t last much longer, and so you mewl,

“G-gonna cum…” A sigh of approval falls from his lips, before he answers with a strained “me too”, and then your high comes crashing down on you. You dig your nails into the skin on his shoulders as your body is shaken, and the convulsions around his cock buried inside of you have him letting out a broken groan, before you can feel him releasing deep in your cunt as well. 

As you gradually come down from your respective highs, you lie down side by side, and when your eyes meet for a moment you both know it’s about time you two had a conversation about this. However, for now it’s too late at night anyway, and with him nuzzling his nose into your temple and pulling you close, you decide that it could just as well wait until tomorrow. 

“So…” Your boyfriend joins his hands together in front of him, his right hand clasping his left fist, and the second you look at him, he looks away instinctively.

“Yeah…” you answer, knowing what he’s trying to say, but somehow it’s hard to break through the air of awkwardness that has settled around you the moment you both sat down in the living room area of his flat. With him having made himself comfortable on the sofa (and then subsequently tensed up as you entered his proximity), you decided to misuse the coffee table in front of it as a seating opportunity, for the sake of being able to sit across from him, figuring that might make the conversation easier.

It doesn’t. You both don’t know what to say, and this is by no means a one time thing. You recall other occasions where you both sat down to talk and then the beginning of the conversation was similarly difficult, just that usually it’s about a problem you have, hurt feelings, or anything else one of you felt needed to be talked out. And you know that usually one of you eventually breaks the ice - admittedly it’s him who gets the conversation going most of the time, a skill you very much value in your boyfriend - but this here is very different. Sure, sex has been brought up between you two before, you are actively having sex with each other after all, but somehow the feel of a talk about it has never seemed this serious.

“Is it… supposed to be this awkward?” This time it’s you who starts the first attempt at smoothing out the mental obstacles that are undoubtedly there. And it seems to be working, because as Jongho lets out a soft laugh at your remark, you can see some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

“Ah, no…” he says, but then he quickly adds, “I mean, it can be, I guess. The first time I had this conversation it started the same, so…” Ending on an implication, he monitors your reaction to his words closely for an entirely different reason. You know he broke up with his last girlfriend not too long before the two of you started getting closer, but he’s never talked about their sexual relationship with you before.

“Oh?” You raise your eyebrows, now feeling genuinely curious. “What do you mean?” Your boyfriend straightens his back as he rolls back his shoulders, and with you watching how his gaze wanders from one point to the other on the wall behind you, he gathers his thoughts and becomes serious.

“You know… when you put my hand around your throat, I liked that. I mean,” he lets out a short laugh, “I think you figured as much.”

“I could tell, yeah,” you confirm, and when he looks at you to continue talking, you feel yourself gulping. His gaze seems more intense than usual, despite his otherwise softened features - or are you imagining things and it’s just your own nerves? You have no idea.

“I did this kind of stuff with my ex too,” he says. “Like… not just the choking, you know? We did other things too, dipped our toes into testing out what it would be like if I have more power over the situation,...”

“Like… BDSM stuff?” The question comes out more awkwardly than it should’ve, and you can clearly sense that you have no idea how to approach the topic in conversation. Then again, it’s just another thing people do - no need to be so uptight about it, right?

“Yeah.” He’s averting his gaze again, shyness creeping onto his face, and somehow you find the contrast between his words and the air around him endearing.

“Like… with whips and stuff?” you continue asking, because you’ve never thought about him in that context, but somehow you can see the association making sense.

“Ah, no, we didn’t go that far,” Jongho explains, waving his hands in front of himself to underline his statement. “We did other things, but… ultimately what we wanted out of that play didn’t align.”

“Oh,” you gasp, wondering whether that was part of the reason why they broke up, but you don’t pry for now.

“So… what I’m trying to say is… I’ve been thinking about how to bring this up to you. But I didn’t want to… make you feel uncomfortable. Since we’ve been keeping things very vanilla so far, you know?”

“You wouldn’t have-” you immediately try to refute, but you stop yourself. Really, you don’t know if you would’ve been intimidated by your boyfriend’s desires. It probably depends on what kind of stuff he wants to do to you. Expanding on the image you brought up earlier in your head, you realize you’re not sure if you’d be okay with whips after all. “Actually, what are the things you want to do?” You decide to pose a question instead, understanding that you shouldn’t give him any definite answers about this without being 100% sure about them yourself. And though you expect him to have a reply right away, he hesitates.

“Maybe… we should take this slow,” he says, voicing his thoughts out loud, and you can tell he really is afraid of scaring you off. So you reach out across the gap in between your knees, until your hands are resting on top of his.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “Let’s talk about it, and I tell you if I’m okay with the things you want.”

“Okay,” he agrees eventually, but then sinks into thought once again.

“What is it?” you chuckle as he doesn’t speak. “You’re taking this very seriously.” Your remark tears him out of his thoughts, and the complicated expression on his face tells you he isn’t entirely sure how to take your words. “I mean, isn’t it about fun most of all?” you add, and now he furrows his brows.

“It’s not that it’s not about fun, just… you need to be careful about these things. Even with what we did last time, if I put my hand around your throat the wrong way or apply too much pressure I can seriously hurt you. And I don’t want that.” Not just from the content of his speech, but also from the way he looks at you you can tell that there’s some very logical reasons behind his caution, and it causes you to think that maybe you’re not taking this seriously enough.

“You’re right, I think I get it now,” you answer, lowering your head apologetically.

“So maybe we should start with the things I’ve done before,” your partner continues. “That way we can test the waters, and I can make sure I know what I’m doing and can ensure your safety.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

“So… are you okay with the kind of dynamic where I take on a more dominant role?” he follows up with a question, and you swallow thickly at all the associations popping up in your head. Even just the thought of you submitting to him has your temperature rising, and so you nod.

“Yes, I would like that.”

You talk about a few things, mostly kinks and practices he brings up, and as he’s taking his time discussing everything, repeatedly reminding you that if you’re unsure about something you can just say no and bring it up at a later point if you happen to get curious about it again, you’re beginning to develop an entirely new understanding of boundaries. It’s like everyone talks about them and their importance, yet it’s hard to figure out how to have a conversation about them, except for the “say no if you don’t want something” part. And even that’s tricky, because sometimes people simply don’t respect a no.

You feel like that’s not the case here at all, and so your conversation becomes yet another reason for why you feel you can trust him so much. And at the same time you come to understand that he too needs to be able to trust you, if you’re going to try getting more adventurous in the bedroom.

“Let’s use the color system, just in case,” he suggests. “Have you heard of it?”

“Like ‘green’ for ‘keep going’, ‘red’ for ‘stop’ and ‘yellow’ for…”

“For ‘slow down’ or… as a sign you’re getting close to your limits,” he finishes the sentence for you. “Even if we’re just going to try one thing at a time, I’d like to use that to check in with you, just in case.” You agree with his suggestion, and at the same time you notice how you’re much more comfortable than at the beginning of the conversation. No trace of awkwardness left. Instead, you feel yourself getting excited at all the new opportunities opening themselves up to you at once. You’ve been fantasizing about spicing up your sex life for a while now, and having finally made that first step towards it affects you in more ways than one.

“So…” you mutter as you lean in, your hands reaching for his and fitting into them very naturally. “Wanna get right to it?” You ask, your lips merely an inch away from his, but Jongho just laughs as he leans back.

“Y/N, isn’t it about time you leave for your evening class?” Immediately, a pout forms on your lips, and you’re more than unhappy about him bursting your bubble like that.

“It’s not a class, it’s just a meet-up for a project…” you refute, though you shouldn’t skip that either. Your boyfriend gives you an endearing look, his gums showing as he shoots you a smile and he extends his arm to run his fingers through your hair.

“Go to that meet-up, Y/N,” he says, and his expression changes ever so slightly as he adds, “And when you’re back, we can see if there’s a way I can reward you for your hard work.” You can undeniably feel the shift in energy from his last words, the way you suddenly feel like you’re smaller than him, like he’s been elevated to standing just a step above you. It’s not like you haven’t felt this air of dominance radiating off of him ever before, but after your conversation just now it has been put into an entirely new context, and it causes yet another spark of excitement to sear through you. And so all you can do is nod and get up to get ready for your meeting.

When the sun has long set and you get back home, your boyfriend is already awaiting you, as promised. To the question about whether you have eaten dinner yet, you answer no, and to your dismay he makes you wait for the thing you’re really craving just a bit longer.

“You should eat,” he says, hand brushing against your back as he notices you sitting down in front of some leftovers with a disappointed expression on your face that you just can’t hide, and he adds with an amused chuckle, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you this impatient.” You say nothing, and when you continue sulking it just makes him laugh some more. You know he’s being caring - and definitely reasonable - when he makes you do your evening routine too after that, but deep inside you really do wonder how he can bear the wait that you’re very much already tired of. And then finally you’re moving towards the bedroom, and if you’re not mistaken you can finally see a hint of impatience in the way he watches you walk up to him.

You take a step forward, to where he’s sitting at the edge of the bed and you place your hands on his shoulders, fingers playing with the collar of his pajamas. His hands find purchase on your waist, pulling you in closer yet, until your shins hit the wooden bedframe, and then his palms wander south to your hips. 

“I’ve made you wait too long, hm?” he mutters. You say nothing, instead running your fingers through his hair, and your boyfriend briefly closes his eyes as he leans into your touch. You move towards him, bowing down in order to press a kiss onto his lips, and when your fingers begin fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, you reply with a chuckle,

“You did.” Watching you as you finish undoing the button-up shirt, he allows you to sit in his lap to straddle him once you’re done, and without hesitation you connect your lips to his. You can feel him sigh into your kiss as your fingertips come in contact with his stomach, and you move your palm all the way up in order to place it at the back of his neck. His tongue swiping across your bottom lip, you let him deepen the kiss, and when you play with the short strands at the back of his head he becomes just a little more passionate in how he kisses you. Effortlessly, he takes the lead from you, and when you finally part you’re more breathless than he is. One of his palms now placed at the small of your back, he pulls you closer yet, applying some pressure to make you roll your hips on top of him. 

“That’s right,” he mutters, your faces mere inches apart, and you let out a shaky breath at the friction of your clothed cunt rubbing against his leg. He brings his free hand up to cup your cheek, gaze dropping down to your lips, but contrary to your expectation, he doesn’t kiss you. “Keep going,” he encourages you, and so you fall into a steady rhythm, a wave of heat rushing to your core with every repetition of your movements. “Feels good?” he asks and you nod.

“Yeah…” His gaze burns like fire as he watches you closely, making sure he doesn’t miss a single change of expression on your face.

“So, what’s your color?”

“Green…” you respond without having to think about it much, feeling the pleasure slowly building up. “You could tell though, right?” you add.

“Yeah.” Jongho smiles at you, letting his hands travel to the hem of your shirt and pulling it up. You let go of his shoulders for a moment to let him peel it off you, before he flings it somewhere to the ground and you throw your arms around his neck again. “Just thought I could bring it up once,” he then adds, and you let him hear a soft chuckle. 

“You don’t have to be that careful,” you whisper. To be quite honest, you adore him for taking your safety so seriously, way more seriously than you think is necessary - because as for you there’s no way you’d feel uncomfortable about something as tame as this, but you appreciate his caution nonetheless.

A curse falls from your lips as you’re able to feel your orgasm gradually building up somewhere in the depths of your stomach, and when you feel him running his hands up your torso once more, a shiver runs down your spine. He’s letting his touch come close to your throat, but not quite far enough, and yet you lean your head back instinctively, to give him access. You don’t miss the amused huff he lets out at your reaction, and instead of his fingers, you can now feel his lips attached to your skin there. Supporting you with his palm against your back, he kisses his way up along your pulse, the sensation making you moan, and when he lets his teeth graze your skin just below your ear your head starts to spin. Your hips stutter at the sensations overwhelming you, and he’s quick to reach for your waist to hold you down, making you halt your movements. He scatters kisses along your jaw before calling your name to make you look at him, and when you do, he brushes his lips against yours. Deepening the kiss, he simultaneously slips his hand past the hem of your pants, and when he presses his fingertips against your folds through your soaked underwear, you can feel him grinning into the kiss.

“Already made a mess of yourself, hm?” You shudder at his words, and at the tone of his voice that’s somehow different from how he usually talks to you in this kind of situation. You’re used to him speaking softly as he quite literally makes love to you, but this is different. 

Everything about it is different, right from the moment he invited you to sit on his lap. So this is what he was talking about, what you were so curious about, and now that you’re getting a taste of this side of your boyfriend, the only thing you know is that you want more.

“Y-yeah,” you can only whimper an answer, and you suck in a sharp breath when he pushes aside your soiled panties in order to touch you directly. He watches again, the look in his eyes making you feel small and helpless - but not in a bad way. It’s like you want him to take control of you, to do with you whatever he pleases - you feel yourself submitting to him. 

A finger pushed inside your wet pussy has you moaning, a second finger makes you curse and fall forward, attempting to bury your face in the crook of his neck, but he clicks his tongue and pushes you back into an upright position with his palm against your chest. 

“I want to watch,” Jongho says, it’s almost a whisper, the energy behind his words is very different from the last time this exact scenario played out, and his words ring in your ears loudly, only serving to amplify the pleasure his touches send through your body. Bucking your hips into his hand to see whether he would allow you to move, you become aware of the bulge in his pants, and the urge to touch him overcomes you.

“Can I…?” You ask, looking down on him and then back into his face, and his answer is short and clear.

“No.” He curls his fingers that are buried in your cunt, pulling them out only to thrust them back in, and when he finds that perfect spot inside you, you arch your back into his touch, your nails digging into the fabric covering his shoulders.

“Right there… don’t stop…” you beg, eyes shut tightly, as he continues fingering you at an unhurried pace. You roll your hips into his hand, your sensitive bud grazing his palm for some friction with every movement, and you can now undeniably feel your high approaching at lightning speed. 

“Look at me, Y/N,” he says, and your name spoken in this tone you’ve never heard from him alone would’ve almost sent you over the edge. “You look so pretty when you cum. But…” The broken whine you let out when he removes his hand from your core as you shudder causes a hint of delight to tug at the corners of his mouth. “You’re gonna look even prettier when you cum with my hand around your throat.”

“Why…” is all you can whimper at his sudden action, not having fully registered the meaning of his last words yet. Then he pushes you off his lap and back onto your feet.

“Take your clothes off for me,” he orders, his tone softening, yet his sharp gaze won’t leave you. You do as told, and he as well rids himself of his pajamas, before he makes you lie down flat and comfortably in the middle of the bed. He wastes no time to get on top of you, scattering a trail of impatient kisses from your sternum up to your mouth. His lips feel rougher against yours now, his tongue quick to part them and to find yours as your hands fly to his back, nails digging into his bare skin. Up until now he’s usually taken his time with you, no surprising movements at all, and so you understandably gasp in surprise when now he unexpectedly breaks the kiss to sit up, reaching for your thighs and bringing them up. Throwing your legs over his shoulders, he leans in closer, and you mewl when he rolls his hips against yours once, his cock grazing your folds and clit.

“That feel okay?” he asks, and you nod immediately, clenching around thin air as you feel yourself growing more and more impatient. 

“I’m okay,” you reply, desperately. “More than okay.” His hands resting on the underside of your thighs as he presses them into the sheets to your sides, he pushes up into you, making you cry out from the force behind his thrust. 

“Shit…” you curse at the impact.

“And that?” he asks. “How’s-”

“Please just keep going, please…” you interrupt him, and contrary to your plea, he does nothing but look down at your state with a big smirk on his face. He has you exactly where he wants you, you know that now, and to be honest? You can only wonder why you haven’t started having rougher sex like this earlier. “Please…” you whimper again.

“What do you want?” Jongho asks, placing one of his palms onto your stomach. “Want me to ruin you?”

“Y-yes please,” you whine. He moves his hand up a bit, slowly, but not too slow, and when he finally snakes his fingers around your throat, you let out an uncontrolled moan.

“Like this?” he asks, and at this point you’re sure he’s only dragging this out to provoke you for the fun of it. And yet, with his hand around your neck like this you don’t have the strength in you to fight back or to do anything but beg.

“Y-yes… baby please…” 

“Please what?”

“Please ruin me…” This seemingly being the answer he wanted to hear, he now starts thrusting into you, slowly at first. But his smooth motions soon turn into something rougher, something led not by self-control, but by his own lust, maybe his need for release, maybe his desire to see with his own eyes what he can do to you like this. And then there’s his hand around your throat, his touch feeling hot against your skin, even though it’s only resting there, not applying any pressure whatsoever. And still you find yourself unable to do anything but moan along with the pace he’s pounding into you, his weight pressing your body into the mattress. Groans fall from his lips as well, and you can feel a dull pain as he digs his nails into the flesh on your thigh. 

“‘M coming… close…” you mewl, and as if that was his cue, you feel his grip around your neck becoming just a bit tighter, and his fingertips press down onto your pulse. Your head starts to spin, your mouth falling open, one broken moan after the other coming out, and mere moments later your high crashes down on you. Your body shakes violently and you feel your boyfriend’s hand being retracted from your throat, and the second he does you moan his name, clenching around his length that’s thrusting in and out of you even faster now. It doesn’t take long until he as well finds his release, a hissed curse falling from his lips as his short hair falls into his face, covering his expression as he too is shaken from the pleasure.

He pulls out of you, reaching for the tissues he’s keeping beside his bed to help clean you up before doing the same for himself and then he thoroughly inspects your throat, making sure he didn’t accidentally apply too much pressure or leave a mark.

“Are you okay?” he asks and you nod. “No pain anywhere?”

“No,” you answer, giving him a tired smile, and then you sit up. “Actually… I really enjoyed that.” For some reason you feel shy as you speak those words, and he immediately picks up on your state of mind, reaching out to cup your face and run his thumb across your cheek in a reassuring motion.

“That’s good.”

“And you? Did you… enjoy it?” And now suddenly he looks away somewhat shyly as well, and for a second there it’s hard to imagine this is the same person who’s been fucking you like that just a hot minute ago.

“I did,” your boyfriend answers. 

“Then let’s try out more,” you suggest, but then you rephrase your words to make them come out sounding as sure of yourself as you are. “I want to know more.”

[carlsdarling]

carl with fingering. it can be anything. any scenario. it’s all i can think about right now because LOOK AT HIS HANDS.

please and thank you 🙏🏼 keep on doing gods work 💗

Piano Player's Hands

Y/N gets really obsessed with Carl's hands... Bit more of a plot, than sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw

Piano player's hands, that's what popped into your head when you first became aware of Carl Grimes' hands during a boring meeting at the Alexandria Community Center.

You were sitting around a large round table, and the topic was how to make the Alexandria neighborhood safer because Saviours often prowled around the area

Carl didn't say much - he never did - he just listened, both hands wrapped around a coffee cup. Once you started, you couldn't stop looking at his hands. They were big for such a slender boy, but graceful - with long, slender fingers and clearly visible knuckles. Really the hands of a piano player; only the chipped and somewhat dirty fingernails and the calluses, the rough skin and the small wounds didn't fit the picture, you mused. But Carl's hands were mostly busy working, killing walkers or cleaning weapons. There wasn't much time for hand and nail care.

"Y/N?" asked Maggie impatiently, and you noticed startled - apparently she hadn't addressed you for the first time.

"Um, what?" you asked dumbly, and Maggie rolled her eyes.

"I was wondering if you'd be willing to be assigned to regular patrols outside the wall?"

"Uh, yeah," you stammered, taking your eyes off Carl's hands with difficulty.

                                                           ***

In the following time you caught yourself again and again thinking about Carl in a juicy way. About him and his hands, especially his fingers. You imagined Carl pleasuring himself; how his long fingers closed around his hard shaft and moved up and down, squeezing lightly, how he rubbed his thumb over the wet tip, how he tossed his head back and forth on the pillow and moaned. Certainly Carl did it every day; at least that was true of most boys his age. You had never had much contact, but now your thoughts were constantly circling around Carl.

When you masturbated yourself, you now fantasized exclusively about Carl; you dreamed of him sliding those fingers into your pussy and stroking your clit. You feared that people would see what you were thinking, so you started avoiding Carl. Whenever you ran into him, you would turn bright red, turn around, and walk away in the other direction. One day you were supposed to stand guard on the wall with Carl, but that was completely impossible, you couldn't talk to him or look him in the eye - he would read your dirty mind, you were sure of it. So you sought out Rick and asked him to let you switch shifts with someone.

Rick frowned at the schedule where the guard duties were listed. It was clear he wasn't thrilled with your request. "Now I'm going to have to reschedule everything," he groused. "Why do you want to change shifts?"

"Um, I, I... well, I don't like getting up early," you lied.

"The shift starts at 10 AM," Rick wondered. "But well, I guess you can switch with Glenn; you'll be on at 6 PM," he stated, scribbling on the list. Neither Rick, nor you had noticed Carl standing next to the doorway to the living room.

After leaving Rick's house, you went to the stables, you wanted to look at a newborn foal. The foal was lying in the straw, sleeping, protected by its mother. "Cute, isn't it?" a voice sounded behind you.

The foal woke up and roused itself. You flinched. "Carl!" you exclaimed. "Are you stalking me?" you then accused him.

"To be honest, yes," he answered hesitantly. "I overheard that you didn't want to be on guard duty with me. Besides, you're avoiding me like I have the plague. Have I done something to you?" he asked, half hurt, half provocative.

You glanced past him to his left hand, with which he was petting the foal. "No," you murmured. The sight made you all tingly.

"Then what is it?" demanded Carl angrily.

"Well...I can't talk about it," you evaded, your face glowing. You tried to walk past Carl out of the stable, but he held you by the shoulder.

"Wait," he said, amused. "Are you...are you maybe crushing on me?" He grinned.

"I don't know," you squirmed, licking your lips. Carl was suddenly very close to you, his breath warmly brushing your neck, then all of a sudden his lips lay softly on yours. You let yourself go into the kiss, of course you did. When you stopped the kiss a moment later, you whispered, "I can't stop thinking about your fingers."

Carl raised an eyebrow - the one, visible one. "My fingers?"

"Yes, they...they're extraordinary, beautiful, and I'd like you to...um..."

Carl chuckled. "Now I understand," he said, throwing you a cocky smile before kissing you again, letting his right hand wander to the buttons of your jeans, undoing them and fumbling forward into your panties. You went to your knees whimpering as he stroked you between your legs, wetting his fingers. You sank to the floor together, and you impatiently pushed your pants and panties down to your knees to give Carl free access. "You're completely wet for me," he noted with fascination.

"Carl, finger me, please," you moaned breathlessly, raising your hips with a yelp as Carl obeyed, sliding his index and middle finger into your willing pussy and gently moving them back and forth with a smooth rhythm. "Oh, Carl, yes, please," you moaned, totally wanting and at his mercy. Your muscles clenched around his fingers, craving more and more of him. He bent down and kissed you passionately as he continued to fuck you with his fingers. You clung to Carl's shoulders as he pushed you over the edge and the world exploded around you in stars and rainbow colors. "Carl!!!" you panted, clawing at him. One of the horses shied away at your outcry.

Breathing heavily, you relaxed as Carl slowly pulled his fingers out of you. They were all slippery from your juices. Your heart raced. Carl pressed himself against you longingly. "You could do something for me now," he pleaded, and you could see the bulge in his jeans. He rubbed over it meaningfully.

"Jerk yourself off," you suggested. "I want to see that."

Carl grinned suggestively. "Someday, maybe, but right now I want you to jerk me off. It's only fair, don't you think?" he pouted.

He wasn't wrong, though. "All right," you agreed. You still had a little time before you had to show up for your work at the doctor's office. Eagerly, Carl opened his belt and his jeans and pulled out his fully erected dick, and you noted that it was really big and just as pretty as Carl's hands, and inhaled sharply. However, it turned out that Carl was so aroused from your previous activities that he cum all over your hand just as soon as you touched him.

"Oh," he commented lamely. "Sorry, baby."

You had to snicker. "I think we should do this more often."

--

Tags: @loveforcarl @tessasweet @knochentrocken0808 @taylormarieee

[erospandemos]

I just can't help it

Yandere Chaewon x Reader

Part 1

“The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”

― Ernest Hemingway, Men Without Women

What you’re about to read is a confession to you. An apology, if you prefer to call it that, as I’ve professed my love to you plenty of times—although it won’t ever be enough—and you’re at the knowledge of every crime I’ve committed since we met. 

My Korean teacher repeatedly reiterated the lack of clarity in my essays and oral exams. I’m not good with words, you see. That’s why I thought that letting you know about the events in my life that shaped me and the feelings that followed me throughout these months would make you understand me better.

I know our conversations weren’t as deep as you probably expected. I’ve tried to explain myself to the best of my abilities and even if it was a mess you seemed to make out that flurry of words and comfort me. Sometimes, I truly thought you understood me more than I did. 

It’s true that we always talked in riddles and puzzles but it made more sense that way. Because our—my—love was pure madness and somehow the riddles explained it better than we ever could. 

The lack of sleep shouldn’t have affected my mind too much, at least in the part that’s in charge of writing. 

If you’re reading this, I hope you understand. Sorry if I’m rambling a lot, and sorry if I will ramble more in the following pages. Right, sorry if I’m apologizing a lot—you told me not to do that. I just can’t help it.

I was tortured since the age of 6 when I started going to elementary school, that’s as far as I can remember. You could also say I was “bullied”, it’s what the adults like to call it, but it’s the same thing. People get defensive, almost offended when I use the other term. “Wow,” was a common reaction, “that’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” I didn’t think it was extreme. 

When I so naively asked my teacher the difference between the two words, she chuckled and looked at me as if I asked her what the difference between hot and cold was. Surprise was another clear feeling I could read from her expression. She asked me how I knew those words. I simply said I heard them from outside and she told me to forget them.

That evening, when I came home, I  took the chair from my mother’s desk and put it next to the bookshelf, I climbed it and looked at the books on the top shelf. They were the books she used the least and between them, sitting all dusty and forgotten, was also the dictionary. 

I blew and rubbed the dust away then I looked for the two words. I read the two definitions closely and more than one time but I still didn’t understand. They were the same. 

I didn’t ask my teacher anything else. My teacher was clearly against explaining them to me.

But I was sure, I knew those two words extremely well because I felt them on my skin. 

I wanted to be an idol. I told everyone in my class because I thought it was a normal dream—we all watched idols on TV in the afternoon—and being an astronaut seemed a lot harder. Apparently, it wasn’t. Because I wanted to perform on a stage, I was “pretentious”, “narcissistic”, an “attention-seeker”, and a “whore”. I didn’t know what they meant and thought they were compliments and they etched those words into my skin. 

I later found their definitions in the dictionary and understood what they were saying.

I wasn’t the only girl who wanted to be an idol. Hayoon, a classmate of mine, dreamt of testing for JYP, SM, YG, and all those big companies. She took dance and singing classes, they were both in group and private. She could afford it because her family was very rich. From what I heard in the classroom, she started training when she was just a little girl because her parents saw her dancing in front of the TV during an episode of Inkigayo.

Surprisingly, Hayoon was never shamed. Because she was “humble” and had “her feet on the ground”. She was loved by everyone and was the most favored prospect for the role of an idol, everyone seemed to believe in her dream. She was confident, danced well, and was beautiful. All the girls went to her house at least twice a month to go to her huge pool, splendid garden, and majestic house. I never went, I was never invited.

She was good at everything and topped all subjects. However, I sang better than her. In music classes and festivals, I was always chosen and often took the roles instead of her. When she realized she wasn’t the best, she became embarrassed and frustrated. 

She didn’t have any way of making me sing worse and neither could sing better than me, even after all those expensive lessons, so she took to poking fun at me to try and drag me down. Of course her friends joined as well. They were always calling me "ugly", "weird", and "gross" in a way that didn’t seem childish or playful, but demeaning and insulting.

The other kids constantly berated me between classes, glued my books to the desk, slapped me and then ran away. They knew all the spots where there was no CCTV in the school. They even stole my brand-new headphones and glued my shoestrings to my shoes when I didn’t see them. We wore slippers and my shoes were in my locker.

My teachers never helped me. I’ve tried telling them and they didn’t believe me, or rather, they chose not to believe me because that was easier for them.

Only a girl had the courage to help me, it only took one word and two days to have everyone against her. “Stop,” she only said that and then everyone hated her. You never go against the group, you never try to make yourself different, you never try to fight back. 

In the end, I understood the difference between torture and bullying: one was for hurting and one was for fun.

During middle school, the bullying stepped up a notch. Some of my classmates went to my same middle school, they had many friends there and the rumors spread like wildfire. Many of the students liked to take their stress out by bullying other students. They were pathetic and talentless, they hated anyone who had potential unless they provided them anything, like Hayoon.

Smoking was illegal. But they didn’t care. They found all the corners of the school where the CCTV didn’t see them and studied where the professors usually walked to avoid their path. It wasn’t always perfect and sometimes they were caught but it sure helped them and the bullies.

One day, I was dragged by my hair behind the basketball court and after getting pushed to the ground, the girls started slapping, laughing, and kicking me. The smoke from their cigarettes and the kicks to my belly and back took the air out of me. I couldn’t breathe and I thought I was going to die. They were experienced—they noticed my lack of breath, gave me breaks to catch it, and started kicking me again.

They were caught by a teacher who forgot his bag. They claimed they were only giving me “birthday punches” and didn’t admit anything, nor apologized. They weren’t stupid either. The girls had a very good reputation and a good student persona, essentially they didn’t have any criminal records. 

When I was asked what happened, I was ready to tell them all the atrocities that took place in school. But then, I remembered the girls’ eyes. I looked at the professor and I knew, right there and then, that he didn’t believe me, even before I said anything. They wouldn’t have done anything but the word would have been out, that I snitched on the bullies and then I wouldn’t have survived.

So I stayed silent.

The girls only got punished for smoking after they explained they only wanted to try and continued to do it anyway.

Between the end of middle school and the start of high school, the bullies got more creative. They tied me up and broke my legs with a crowbar. The older the girls got, the more of them wanted to be idols, and the first thing they had to do was to get rid of the competition. They succeeded as I stopped dancing altogether since that day.

I continued singing but nobody wants to see an idol in a wheelchair, right?

After I couldn’t walk normally anymore, they started treating me like a rag. They used me to clean the bathroom, by pushing me around on the floor, putting my face against the toilet, and mopping me with dirty water. I was like a toy to them and their friends joined the fun.

Part 2

It was no wonder that many bullied students leave the school. Sometimes, they leave on their own, because they can’t stand the torture anymore, other times, the school removes them. The bullies only bully others because they can and they know they can get away with it: they have influential parents or come from wealthy families, so the school can only quietly get rid of the problem and those are the victims that can’t stay quiet.

The class in my department didn’t have many students but it was enough: 20 students. During the year, 5 students left, and at the end of the year, 2 others were sent to another school in the province. The remaining 13 weren’t enough to be left alone in the classroom so they joined us with a class from another department that also lost many students. In total, we were 31, which was a big number but they didn’t have any other choice.

You were one of those students. I only noticed you after a week because I got used to keeping my eyes low not to anger any of my classmates. You sat beside me. People usually tend to avoid me since they could also become victims of the bullies but you knew it and it was your decision.

“Is this seat taken?” you asked me. When I heard your voice, I had a moment of hesitation. I kept staring at the wooden desk but then I thought that you might have accused me of being rude for ignoring you and that would have been a good enough reason to pick on me, so I raised my eyes.

“No, it isn’t,” I replied. Your eyes were cold. I genuinely thought you were a bully too.

“Then, can I seat here?”

“You can if you want…” I told you, unsure. “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What? You fart a lot?”

I was taken aback. “No! I don’t.”

“I suppose it’s fine then,” you said and took the chair out to take your desk. You started getting ready for the lesson and didn’t seem to have any intention of doing anything to me. Every time someone spoke to me, it was to make a comment, make a joke, or give me an order. Still, I was suspicious of you.

The lesson proceeded as usual. You took your notes very diligently, writing almost everything the teacher said, making graphs and small summaries to keep your memory fresh. If you were to tell me you were the top student in your class, I would have believed it and later I’d find out you really were.

Your behavior wasn’t the one of a bully. And it wasn’t the behavior of a bullied either.

At the end of the last lesson before the lunch break, the teacher gave us surveys for our future career choices. I stared at the paper with a pen in my hand. What should I write? My future, my future was stolen from me. My dream was as meaningful as an ant’s life. After everything they did and said to me, a miserable life of insignificance and sadness sounded perfectly fit for me. I kept wondering and pondering until you turned to me.

“What do you want to do when you grow up, Chaewon?” you asked me while you were lazily spinning your pen between your fingers.

“I- I don’t know, what about you?” I stuttered. I couldn’t bring myself up to pronounce those words. I felt as if I had been banished from even muttering them and thinking about it only brought me horrible memories.

“Web security,” you said. “I go around and check companies’ safety in their servers and sites. I’ve already started an internship so I’m sure it’s what I’m going to do.”

“An internship? This early?”

“Yeah, I figured the more experience I get, the better. I got nothing better to do anyways.”

“Don’t you have any hobbies? Don’t you hang out with your… friends?”

“I don’t have that many friends, to be honest,” you replied nonchalantly. “I mean, I do go out like once every three months so it isn’t a lot but I still have friends I can talk to. I’ve never been good with people, I guess.”

“Ah, is that so?”

“I was always better on my own. I tried a lot of stuff and I liked web stuff better,” then you turned to me for a second time, looking at me more intensely than before, “but you didn’t answer my question yet. What do you wanna do?”

Being put on the spot like that, I wasn’t sure about what I was allowed to say. More than that, I didn’t know what I really wanted, if the dust of my once desire was still in me if my heart wasn’t dead cold. However, after all these years, a subtle string of fate kept me going and it was still something that I liked doing.

I looked at your eyes. They didn’t scare me.

“I want to be… an idol,” I said in a single breath. After I finished the sentence, a heavy feeling of guilt dawned on me. I felt as if I just committed a crime and I was in danger.

But you didn’t judge me.

“An idol, huh?” You laid back on your chair. “That’s pretty cool. I know it’s very hard if you really want to do it, props to you. It takes some guts to train for that stuff. To dance all day, to have everyone look at you, it’s something.”

“Do- do you think I can do it?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. I don’t know how well you dance, or how good you sing, or even what you tested for.”

“But is it a possible dream?”

“You can watch idols too, right? They had the same dream as you did. They did it. I think it’s possible, yeah. And I think you can do it, Chaewon.”

When you said that, I felt so relieved. It was comforting. Finally, I found someone that didn’t hate me, that didn’t shame and believed in me.

Just as you stopped talking, the bell rang. It was the time.

“Oh, look at her, ms. Idol,” said Yejun and pushed my head away for fun. He started laughing.

“Hands off, Yejun. And go away before I sock you in the face,” you said.

“I’m so scared, oh my god,” he laughed. “What do you think you’ll do huh? Do you want to protect this filthy rag? How generous,” he said and then slapped me.

“That’s enough, fuckface,” you got up and stared into his eyes. “That’s the last warning. Leave before I do something I might regret.”

He scoffed. “Really, you talk a lot. Don’t forget that you work for my father.”

“I don’t think you get it, Yejun. I don’t just work for your father. He depends on me. One click and his whole 20 servers will blow up. Do you really think that incompetent fool of your father fixed all the problems? He doesn’t know shit about his stuff, he only knows how to count money and scam his workers. There are so many weaknesses I could just hack the whole thing and change your company to my name.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be. Now, that I’ve seen who this rag of yours is, tell your friends to keep their hands off her. I don’t want to see your father come back and beg at me and he’ll know it was all your fault. Everyone listens to you apparently, so spread the word. I won’t hesitate.”

Yejun stormed out of the class in anger.

I felt like I was reborn, that I finally found my savior. You were the angel I needed and you came to save me from this hell.

“I don’t like this place, let’s get out of here,” you said and I followed you.

We went to grab lunch but right behind the vending machines you got attacked. He called you a nerd, whatever he did, but I couldn’t stand it. I felt a force in me and I grabbed his neck, I squeezed until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

I’ll be honest, if it wasn’t for you trying to get me off, I would have killed him.

Just as that guy run off, you freaked out. I didn’t blame you. Still, you took my arm and pulled me to somewhere more covered to talk to me, scared that someone else might have seen it. I could see the surprise in your eyes, but you didn’t look terrified, you were concerned if anything.

Your hand was still bleeding, the red liquid dripped to the floor. I stared at the droplets, slowly coloring the grey concrete, as if it was the ticking of a clock. At each tick, I was getting more impatient, there was something inside me that wanted to jump out, run after who hurt you, and make him pay for it. But I had to calm down, you were in front of me.

“Chaewon, what the hell!” you whisper-shouted while repeatedly glancing behind your back and into the hallway. “Where did that come from?”

“I-I don’t know what happened,” I stuttered. I was saying the truth—at the time, I truly didn’t know why I reacted in the way I did. I never raised my hands, I never talked back, I never reacted.

“Shit, I’m bleeding a lot,” you cursed. You gritted your teeth and started walking towards the school clinic. I followed you.

You talked to me as we were walking. “You don’t just choke people randomly, you know?”

“I- I really swear! I pro-promise… I have no idea what happened!”

“Listen, Chaewon, I saw you pinning his neck against the wall. You raised a senior with one hand.”

When we were in front of the nurse's office, you pinched your nose and waved your hand to stop me from talking. The cuff of your white shirt was stained with red, it already spread so much in just a short time. You must have been in pain. My blood was boiling.

“You can explain yourself later,” you said and opened the door. “I have to close this wound first.”

I followed you into the room. For some reason, the room was empty, there was no trace of the nurse and it looked like she hasn’t been there for a long time as everything was very tidy and the coat hanger was empty. Often, when people can avoid work, they’ll do it. The nurse must have seen that there was no one needing her in the morning and decided to leave for some coffee.

You sat on one of the beds, keeping your arm stretched out so the blood wouldn’t stain the sheets and with another hand, you searched into the cabinet for something you could help yourself with. You took out bandaids, alcohol, gauze and cotton buds. You really made a mess, trying to pour the alcohol on your arm and spilling half of the content on the floor.

After sloppily cleaning yourself with cotton, you got the bandaids.

“Do you really think bandaids will do?” I asked you. “It’s way too deep.”

“Is there any other way?”

“Yeah, we have to put stitches on you.” I took the chairs from the desk and sat in front of you. In the cabinet beside the bed, there were also needles and thread for that procedure. Luckily there was an anesthetic as well.

I put on gloves. I cleaned your wound again, better than you did before, and applied the anesthetic gel. It took about two minutes to take effect, in the meanwhile I prepared the rest of the equipment I needed: forceps, curved needle, and new thread.

When I was sure you didn’t feel anything, I started stitching your wound.

“How did you learn this?” you asked me so curiously.

“I… I got used to taking care of myself,” I said softly. It was embarrassing. You nodded. I could feel your eyes scan me, looking at all my bruises, the bandaids on my face, and many more wounds underneath my shirt.

You sighed. “I’m sorry. I hope they won’t attack you anymore. Always stay with me, they are scared of people who have a known name.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think it will do anything.”

“Just do as I say,” you repeated. I could see how sure you were from your face. You definitely didn’t see, as my face was facing the floor, but I smiled for the first time after you said that. Your desire of protecting me was honest. I was really happy that you cared for me.

When I came home, I had the time to think through what happened that day. As I was drinking a cup of water, I looked at myself in the reflection of the window, my fingers tracing my wounds and bruises, itching the dried blood on my nails. Where did that strength come from? I could have sworn they had taken every ounce of energy from me, I knew I had no will, no ambition, no desire to even talk back until today. And yet, I hurt him.

I felt good. It didn’t feel good to hurt him per se but to know I defended you. As to him, I should have killed him. But you stopped me. You shouldn’t have done that. He hurt you. That shabby gross fool tried to hurt you, how could he?!

I was so lucky to have caught you before it was late. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened to you if he succeeded—the bruises on your face, the blood on your face—you would have looked just like me. No, I couldn’t stand that. You didn’t deserve to go through the pain that I did, not after you defended me. Oh, if only I could lay my hand on those sinners, the pain I could inflict them, all the experiences that I felt inside my skin, into my very flesh.

I want to hear them scream. To beg for forgiveness. To regret their very existence. I want them to apologize to you, to offer their life…

Crack

I looked down at my hands. What a mess. I completely shattered the cup I was holding—bits of sharp glass everywhere, even some into my skin. The veins of my hand were bulging, I could feel the blood in my body flowing so fast and forcefully. The adrenaline was high in my brain.

I didn’t realize what I did until I heard the sudden noise.

It was true, just as you said. It wasn’t me. But why? This must have happened because I was thinking of you getting hurt… yes, it was your thought, just you. It was because of you. I didn’t want to see you hurt, you were my only hope in this world, just the thought sent a shock through my spine and into my head, and I would go crazy.

You made me like this.

Completely insane.

“Chaewon! What happened?” I heard Yujin calling me and I turned around to see her rushing out the hallway. Yujin was my roommate, we shared the rent because it was cheaper that way. She wasn’t a bad person, not at all. But she couldn’t understand my life, she lived between rich girls and handsome guys.

To be kind, you need to know what misery is. She was just nice.

“Oh, Kirin-chan,” I said.

“How did you break your glass?” she asked worryingly, grabbing a towel to clean my bloody hand of the bits of glass.

“My bad, I was standing up and it just slipped out of my hand.”

“Then how did it get all over your palm?”

“I slipped and fell right onto it, you know how clumsy I am.”

“Yeah,” she commented without much belief, “just like all the time you come home with bruises on your face.”

“It isn’t my fault if they don’t put warnings after cleaning the stairs.”

“It isn’t your fault,” she repeated. “Anyways, don’t forget to clean it up, I’ll go back to studying,” she ended, turning around and leaving the lounge to return to her prettier room.

I continued to stare at my hand.

I couldn’t help but think about you again… my head got foggy… my thoughts haunting…

What if they scarred you?

What if they bullied you?

What if girls broke your heart?

What if you were friends with the wrong people?

I knew I was crossing a line when those questions took form but it was too late and I didn’t even care anymore. It was a promise I made myself, to protect who I loved, and I swore I wouldn’t fail again. I would protect you forever, no matter what.

I feared that you’d run away from me but instead, we got way closer than before. When I walked into school the day after the incident, I was genuinely scared I wouldn’t have seen you—that you had stayed at home, that you changed class or even school. What worried me the most was the fact that you could have been scared of me.

I waited for you anxiously. I kept scratching my nails, rubbing my arms, looking around for you. So many times I got up and walked around the paths outside the school where I thought you’d usually walk, even if I didn’t know well what were your habits, and not finding you, I’d sit back at the wall and wait again.

After several minutes, you arrived at school. At the sight of you, my dizziness and worries faded away. I immediately ran at you and hugged you so tight, you had to know how much I missed you.

You were surprised, of course, you were. “Huh? What has gotten into you Chaewon?” you laughed jokingly.

“I just thought you wouldn’t come to school anymore,” I told you.

“Why would I do that? Today is a school day.”

“It’s okay, that’s perfect. I’m just so glad I can see you again.”

Part 3

The door opened to the locker room and I and the other trainees entered sitting down. They changed their clothes from casual streetwear to old clothes and gym wear. I’ve been training for a bit now, I got to know all the trainees well, there were a lot before but now they only remained half. The one that finished first started stretching. "It's one minute and a half. Let's do this," she sighed.

One of them threw to the other a white sheet with a name written on it and did the same with the others. "Here. Your name tags."

"That's it? Just a minute?" the girl chuckled.

"A minute and a half. Everyone does their part and it's a difficult choreography, don't you forget. It will be enough."

"It's for evaluation. Don't forget every detail counts," another girl added.

We went out of the room and made our way toward the practice room, each one with a name tag on it. The corridor leading to it was cold, probably because they just changed from thick to thin clothes, but it got hotter towards the end where the air got denser. One at a time, they entered bowing at the line of men sitting on the right of the mirror in front of the door.

Everyone had papers and a pen and a serious look plastered on their faces. After a couple of stretches, the girls got into position and the music started. They smiled and danced with their full capability and the judges looked sharp. When the music stopped they held their ending pose and went in a line waiting for their words. The air suddenly felt cold.

"There had been improvements on what we said the first time. But we can also fix others," the first said and the men nodded. They wrote on the paper and scribbled.

"You. When the others did their move you were coordinated and that's fine but you did it wrong. You need to raise your hand higher," he said making the move himself and the girl followed.

"Can you do the move a bit before the ending?" another one asked, gesturing his intention. "Yes, that one. Please get into the position and do it."

They did and when it came to the next section he spoke again, "One more time."

"Once more."

"Five...six.. seven... eight... an-"

"Okay," he said and got up walking to the center of the room. He demonstrated the move more and more times. "Don't tense your muscles too much when you do this alright?"

"But," the oldest got up, "you were all a lot better today, good job. Specially Soojin and Gaeul."

"That's it, goodbye," they said.

"Thank you!" the girls answered together.

BLAM. The oldest almost slips as he got out and the others held him up. The girls let out a muffled laugh, their mouths covered with their hands."See girls, don't tense your muscles too much or they won't work properly," the man chuckled. The judges left fast, embarrassed by their eldest and the group laughed in relief.

"Are we really doing this? They are not saying anything anymore."

The youngest looked at them from the ground, laid down breathing hard, and said, "We're close to debuting."

When everyone was done with their stuff and cleaned themselves they left. Almost all of them ran out to catch the last bus of the day or were just in a hurry. I, on the other hand, had to walk home so I did everything slower. When I got out, in the distance, I heard a group of girls around my age shouting and laughing. When they got closer, I realized they were my classmates, there were about four of them and they were drunk.

They noticed me.

"Look at you. It's late, pretty girls like you shouldn't stay out," one of them said and I frowned.

"Don't tell me. You were practicing?" she said laughing. The other three got in a semi-circle in front of me.

"It's a really difficult life isn't it, miss idol? Everybody wants you and you're here dancing until late," she mocked me, with her fingers under her eyes faking tears, and let out a hearty laugh. The choir followed with a carol of joy.

"It's sad really," she continued, "so popular but so tired."

She pushed me down on the ground and the group stepped back making more space for the two. She forcefully pulled my hair, forcing me to get up. The girl got closer and said, "And you're so pretty. It would be a shame if anything happened to this pretty face."

She slapped me. They laughed. They kicked me. I tried to defend myself, curling into a fetus position and protecting my head. They snickered as they continued wasting the effects of the alcohol on me. When they were finally satisfied, they got up and left me there on the side of the road and went away to the opposite way of where they came from.

I remained on the ground with tears on her face and sobbed trying not to make any noise, I wanted silence. However I heard their voices again, from the distance, and they were screaming.

"What do you think you're doing?!" the same girl as before squealed."We're girls, you think you can-." The group gasped.

"You're five and I'm one and you just beat that girl up. You think I care?" It was a male voice.

The girls ran away but the guy didn't try to chase them and walked to me.

"There's a convenience store nearby, we can get something cold for your face," he said with a soft tone. I recognized the voice and looked at him, I recognized his face too. It was you. My legs trembled a little as I held myself upon your shoulder for support. "It's fine, take your time," you said dusting my back.

At the shop, you bought a bag of frozen peas so I could put it on my face where it still hurts. "I ate those for dinner, they're great. I can use them for everything, look, you're using them too now," you said and I laughed. I calmed down a little and your face got more serious and worried.

"I told you. Starting from tomorrow I'll bring you home," you said.

"But it was only this time," I said.

"And the other four before."

"Kind of."

"Being there by 11:30 should be good."

"But you should sleep."

"I would just be studying, and either way, it's way better to have your company," you insisted, leaning down on the chair. A small smile formed on my face. Ever since that day, the two always walked home late at night even when it was freezing or when it was raining. We got way closer.

You grew up so well. Unfortunately, many girls seemed to notice you and fall for you. I don’t blame them, you were very charming, so attractive for such a young student but I couldn’t let them near you. They were fools, too stupid to realize they were nowhere close to your level, you were levels above and they were just insects. I had to make sure no one bothered you, to avoid you crying because some worthless bitch broke your heart.

I was surprised when you told me you got asked out. But then I felt my chest burn.

There’s only one thing that I can’t stand in this world and that’s people who think they can take what’s mine. I don’t care about gossip, jealousy or envy, I don’t have anyone to compete with, I just want what’s mine. And you are mine.

It was so easy to scare them away. All it took was a quick talk behind the school, a very convincing speech, a cutter to their throats…

They were scared of me. Good. You didn’t suspect anything—they’d still smile at me as if nothing happened, I made sure to tell them. I couldn’t let you know, to worry more than you already were.

The bullying had completely stopped towards me because you were always by my side defending me and eventually they all got the message. If you were just a crush before, now I love you. If I loved you, now I worship you. You’re my religion, my god, my purpose. I’ll kill for you, live for you, and I’ll love you forever. Wherever you go, I’ll follow you. Whether that’s heaven, hell, or any other world. My very existence is embroidered into your name, I can’t exist without you.

Things were going great, so great. You only had eyes for me. Those two beautiful pupils could only look at me, at my face, at my body, only at me. I loved when you stared at me, I was yours after all, you could watch how much you wanted.

That was until those two eyes became one. You got a big bruise on your left eye, it was swollen, black, and horrible.

You were waiting for me near the big tree behind the school like you always did, and you talked to me like you always did, without worry or pain. “Hey, Chaewon,” you greeted me.

“What happened?!”

“Nothing, I just hurt myself,” you lied. How naive you were, you were too kind, too nice. I didn’t believe you one single bit. I wonder why you did that? Why did you lie to me? Was it to protect whoever did that to you? To protect who hurt you?

“Tell me. Tell me, who hurt you?” I asked you calmly.

“It’s really nothing Chae… I’m serious, I only hurt myself—”

“TELL ME WHO THE HELL HURT YOU RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!” I asked again, the sudden increase in volume startled you and you backed away into the tree. I didn’t know at the time, and you’d tell me later, but my eyes were empty. You got scared, I apologize, I just couldn’t help it.

“Ch-Chaewon?” you stuttered.

When I realized you were terrified, I calmed down. “Huh? Oh, my bad, sorry… I was just really worried, but now, please tell me.” I shook my head and took a couple of steps back.

“Okay, I will tell you… it was Seojun,” you finally confessed. “I bumped into him and spilled his drink on his uniform. I apologized, but since I was alone and his ‘friends’ were with him, they thought they could get their revenge on me.”

“I see… let’s get you some ice for that eye for now,” I told you and we started to walk into the infirmary for the second time. I hated walking into that place, especially with you. I tried my best to hold it inside me, not to scare you again, but I was going to snap anytime soon.

“Chae, are you alright?” you asked me.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, dear… and it will okay from now on. You don’t have to worry about Seojun anymore.”

You know, people say that the first time is special, you never forget it. The first time I bathed my hands in the warm liquid that is human blood, my body was cold. I felt hesitation at first, but I knew I was doing it for you, and thinking about you, all that fear was gone. And I killed him.

Yes, it was me that killed Seojun. I don’t regret one bit what I’ve done to him. I made sure he suffered as much as he made you suffer. An eye for an eye, as they say.

That day was special, it was like I confessed to you and instead of a ring, I gave you a life. It was only fair you’d give me your life in return.

The murder of Seojun made headlines in the news and when asked about it, the students never said anything nor praised or acted sad at his death. No one missed him. It’s quite sad that life can be so insignificant that not a single person will care about how gruesome your death was and forget you the next day. To be quite honest, he deserved it. We die in the same way we live.

You were a bit suspicious of me at first. You didn’t really doubt me—you were curious. The news of his death was delivered by our professor during the first period with a sigh before continuing the lesson. The reactions were mixed but mostly towards one extreme: relief.

When a bad person dies, two things will happen: if you’re a good person or a victim, you will be happy; if you’re equally bad then you’ll be scared, because you know he already got what he deserved and nothing prevented you from having the same fate as nothing is stronger than luck.

You were both worried and glad. I’ve always noticed how you tend to care about other people, it’s something that I really love about you, you just have to direct toward the people who deserve it. “Hey, Chae, do you know anything about Seojun’s murder?” you asked me during the break. You were hesitant at first but I was sure you’ve thought about it long enough to decide to spill it.

You must have thought about what I said the other day: You don’t have to worry about Seojun anymore.

“Huh?” I raised my eyebrow at you. “Why would I have anything to do with his death?”

“W-well… you see… you said that I didn’t have to worry about him anymore and the next day… he dies.” Your shoulders were so tight almost as if you were trying to keep the words inside of you. Your gaze flitted around the room, never settling on one person or object for long.

“It must have been a coincidence,” I told you. “And karma.”

“Right,” you muttered. Then you relaxed your shoulders.

“By the way,” I changed the topic, “there is going to be the last test before the debut at Hybe.”

Your eyes changed completely, they brightened. Every time I talked about my dream, you always seemed too excited for me. You fully believed in my ambition and constantly encouraged me to keep trying. Whenever I practiced, I always thought of you.

I always think of you.

“That’s awesome, Chae. It’s your opportunity, you wanted to become an idol all this time.”

“I will start practicing right away then,” I said. “I want to be with you that day. Can you come with me?”

“What day will it be?”

“Next Saturday, 4:00 pm.”

“Next Saturday… 4:00 pm,” you repeated. “I’ll make sure to be there—I will be there, I will.”

“Thank you,” I smiled and hugged you. You were still a bit against the idea of hugging but slowly you were getting used to it. I trusted that you’ll eventually come to love it.

I had prepared about four songs for the test: two for my singing and two for my dancing, one of them was good for both. I decided to be very broad with my songs because if they asked for more, I’d be prepared. You never know. I didn’t want to go there and have them ask for a random song and fail horribly.

You were waiting for me in front of the building with a little bag of snacks. I mentioned all of them before to you and you remembered. Some of them were for when I’d finish the whole thing and some as a snack to calm my nerves.

Honestly, I felt like you were my boyfriend already. If anyone saw us together, they’d say the same thing. Every little thing you did was so full of attention, I knew you cared for me, and I loved you so much.

Anyways, the time came. I bid you goodbye and entered.

The test went terribly wrong.

You waited two hours for me, only for me to blow it all up. When I came out, I was so embarrassed, I didn’t want you to see me at all.

“So Chae, how was it?” you asked but I didn’t reply. It was hard to come up with any word at all. I couldn’t even look at you in the eyes.

“Chae?”

“Chaewon?”

You finally got enough at the third time and you grabbed my shoulder to shake and direct my gaze at you. “Chaewon, answer me please!” you said with an upset tone.

“Do you… do you think I’m a failure?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked back.

“Hey, am I a failure? Tell me. Were the guys right? I am not meant to be an idol after all, should I give up after all? Tell me, please!” I hiccuped and cried. I was truly heartbroken. It was the test per se but the fact that I disappointed you, that I wasted all your determination and belief you had in me.

“Chaewon, no…” you whispered and went for a hug. It was awkward, you didn’t know how to hug. You tried to put a hand on my shoulder and one on my hip, but it didn’t work. Then you tried to put both of them on my shoulder but you looked like you wanted to headbut me. On the third try, you succeeded and properly hugged me very tightly.

I buried my head into your chest, it was where I could really feel safe.

“Chaewon, what happened in there? How did it go?”

“I FAILED! I BLEW IT ALL UP! IT’S ALL GONE!” I yelled and gripped you harder.

“How is that possible? You’re perfect, I mean, you sing so beautifully and you’re beautiful,” you said. “You’ve been practicing… why? How?”

“I’m sorry it’s that I was so worried. I got distracted. I continued to ask myself if I’d fail and so on… I knew the lyrics but I got jittery and…”

“No, Chaewon! I told you to believe in yourself. You can do it. You can do it.”

“But—”

“You have talent, Chae,” you repeated, “and I’ve seen it since day one. You will not fail. You just have to try again.”

I was embarrassed to see if I could try again but you weren’t and you stormed inside the building, dragging me by arm to ask the staff if I could try again. You explained everything and even pleaded with them until they gave in.

This time, you were waiting for me outside the door. I knew I wouldn’t fail again.

Don’t think about anything else. Focus.

I sang the first song. Just like I practiced. Then I danced. It was perfect.

I passed. I was so happy and I just had to tell you. I ran outside but you weren’t there.

I searched everywhere until I understood you weren’t in the building and had to search for you outside. I found you in an alley, bloody and bruised.

I immediately called the ambulance and they rushed you to the hospital. Your condition was so bad they had to x-ray your whole body and do a small surgery.

When I found you, you could barely talk or even breathe. You were laying in a pool of blood, that came from the numerous cuts all over your body—they weren’t clean but all rough and jacked, meaning they came from brute force and not blades. Your clothes were also messed up and ripped. Together, I could count on 19 injuries at least. I couldn’t understand at all. Why would someone do that to you? And how did it happen?

Together with you was a bag with two drinks and a couple of sandwiches. I suppose you went outside to a convenience store to buy something, maybe for me, and then… you were attacked. This may have been premeditated, it’s impossible a group of people randomly hurt you that bad.

I couldn’t stop crying, you know?

To see you in those conditions, I could only think of the worse.

What if you’d never wake up again?

What if you’d be miserable for the rest of your life?

What if you died?

It was my fault. I’m sorry, it was totally my fault. It was because I took way too long in the test, chatting with the staff, seeing the other girls so happily, while you were being jumped… I could have protected you, we could have gone home together and this would have never happened.

The doctor called me. “Kim Chaewon?”

“Yes?” I raised my eyes. I saw him and wiped my tears before standing up and walking to him.

“Is he okay…?” I asked.

“He’s not in danger is what I can tell you. Some of his bones are broken and he has received a concussion, he may be asleep for a while, you see,” he said.

“Can I see him?”

“Yes, you can,” the doctor agreed, “this way…”

He guided me toward another floor of the hospital. You have been transferred from the emergency room to the patient’s rooms. You were in the section where more care was needed—the hallway was quieter, everyone walked slower, and everything was more gentle.

I entered your room slowly, holding myself up with a hand on the door frame and then I saw you. Your eyes were closed. Your whole body was covered in bandages and you were hooked to all sorts of machines with cables and cords everywhere. It was almost like seeing a puppet tied up in strings and they were keeping you alive.

I was scared to come close to you. I feared that any of my movements could have damaged you even more. You were so fragile at that moment.

I gently lowered myself to the chair next to your bed and held your hand. I cried. I cried again, so much. I couldn’t help but keep thinking it was my fault. If only I was quicker…

Some of your items were put in the drawer. I noticed your phone together with your wallet and backpack. The screen was cracked and some of the blood crusted into the cracks. I don’t know why I felt curious but I unlocked the screen—you trusted me enough to let me know your password months ago to check some messages while you were busy cooking—and it opened KakaoTalk. You were texting me and the phone memorized it.

Chae be careful the bullies might be after you

Don’t go in the shortcut at the

Oh, dear. You were on the brink of death and all you could think was to warn me, to protect me. You didn’t even think of calling for help. I understood everything. It was those bullies again… they didn’t forget, did they? It’s because their life turned to hell after they didn’t have anyone to bully anymore and they got revenge but attacking you.

I was angry. I was furious. I was so pissed that I unconsciously cracked your phone even more. It was that feeling again, all over—the fire in my chest.

I will kill them. Each one of the. I will make them suffer. I will tear them to shreds. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them.

I will make them pay for everything they have done for you.

They were so stupid. It was so easy to trick them: I attacked their leader when he was coming home late and forced him to send a message to everyone who was involved in your attack—he confessed right away when I showed him my knife.

The guys came on point the next day. It was all so easy. They always hung out at the abandoned warehouse where they could make all the mess they wanted and dragged their victims to torture them properly and in private. Now they were dragging themselves to their death.

I dressed in black that day. You never liked seeing me in black. People used to tell me I tried to stand out too much so they forced me to use torn, old, ugly clothes, but when they stopped tormenting me, you brought me to buy more clothes for me.

But that day I wasn’t dressing as the victim. I was in the guise of the Grim Reaper.

I prepared my knives, axes, clamps, nails, and staplers and waited for them in the building.

Humans are so easy to kill. They are so frail and mortal—I had to be extremely careful not to let them die immediately to cause them all the pain they deserved. I’ll spare you the details. You don’t have to know of the gruesome parts of their murder. I’ll just tell you everything they did to you and in their years of bullying, I did to them. From crowbars to knives, to fire and stabbing.

When the last one stopped screaming, I felt at peace. The silence was absolute. I couldn’t even hear the wind, the cars, or the noises of the city. It was completely quiet.

I finally avenged you.

Part 4

Disposing of the bodies was quite simple but extremely tiring. I had to chop their bodies to bits, bury them and hide all the evidence. I cleaned with bleach all my weapons, the floor, and the walls of the warehouse. I had to soil the floor since it was dirty before and I couldn’t leave a clean patch in there, it would have been a dead giveaway.

Of course, I had to get rid of all their phones. I broke them into little pieces before grinding them up to a bag of dust and flushing them down the toilet.

I got most of my weapons from around the city. I stole the knives from the school kitchen and returned them to them. I did the crime on a Friday night and finished in the evening of Saturday so they wouldn’t have noticed the disappearance of their tools. I bought the rest of the tools from a hardware store so I could have just put it in someone else’s garage.

I couldn’t burn my clothes or rags because that would have caught the attention of my neighbors or anyone nearby so I colored it with all sorts of paints so the blood would have been unrecognizable. If anyone analyzed them, it would look like they were of an artist. And then I disposed of them.

Burying the bodies was the most laborious part and I could only do it during the night. It took me both Saturday and sunday to get rid of all the evidence.

The next days were all marked by nightmares. I didn’t dream of what I did. What haunted me was you leaving me. I was afraid that my crime could have separated us.

Chaewon, you’re a monster.

I can’t be friends with a murderer.

I can’t love a killer.

I hate you.

I wish you died.

I was distressed and jittery during the day and couldn’t sleep at night. Many times I would get distracted in those thoughts, imagining all the things you could say to me, and not realize people calling me. I would often zone out and not hear anything else.

“Chaewon? Are you okay?” my classmates would tell me. I would snap out of my daze and realize most of them were looking at me then I’d realize I actually chipped a corner of the table off with my grip.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s nothing,” I could only say. They would continue with the day forgetting about it or just tell their friends excitedly about a classmate with a freakish strength.

It was especially hard when I was training with the other trainees but I told myself you wouldn’t be proud of me if I wasn’t doing my best and forced myself to dance.

On Monday, their disappearance was announced but nobody could find anything. Not a single trace. The secret was safe with me.

They also announced your attack but they didn’t connect the two events together, assuming you were also a victim. The attacks in this Korea were common anyways. Bullying was so widespread you could say it was part of our culture.

After a week. you were still asleep. The doctor concluded that they must have stomped your head too for you to be concussed that badly. They damaged the nerves.

Unfortunately, I knew only after I killed them. If I knew I would have done the same to them so they could feel the pain you felt but I guess cutting their limbs counts as nerve damage as well.

I was getting extremely impatient waiting for your awakening. The doctor couldn’t help me but it wasn’t their fault. I’ve only realized now how much I relied on you and those days without you were as sad as Halloween without candies.

When I woke up, I couldn’t tell if the Sun rose already or if it was still sunrise, it was timid, and the light cast a somber hue in the room. It was gray and pale. The soundscape was eerily quiet, the usual chirping birds seemed to have disappeared, as if even nature was mourning alongside me.

Walking through the corridors of the school, I felt like a solitary figure amidst a sea of faces. Conversations echoed around me, yet they seemed distant. The classrooms, usually alive with energy, felt suffocatingly silent.

I couldn’t help but notice how happy the other students went on with their days, completely ignoring what happened to you. Worst of all, some students even mocked you, saying you were a loser and you deserved it. My bloodthirst was beyond the roof. I had to hold myself back a lot not to commit other killings, reminding myself that I could have raised a case of a serial killer if I wasn’t careful enough.

I thought I had been sneaky enough not to raise any suspicion but I didn’t know the only person to find out would have been you.

I was in an alley near the hospital when I met one of those mean girls. They were badmouthing you and I had to make sure they wouldn’t do it again. I didn’t kill them, you don’t have to worry about that. I merely sent a message, a little punishment. I got one nail for each insult they said toward you. Poor them, they won’t have nails for months—I hope it hurts.

They ran away but when I turned around, I saw you. You were looking at me so horrified and disgusted.

“I had my suspicions, Chae…” you said. “The coincidence was too perfect. I woke up and saw the news, I knew it was you. And now, I’m sure.”

“You’re mistaken, dear,” I tried to say foolishly.

“Chae, I saw everything.” Your face morphed into an extreme melancholy, of disappointment and sadness. My face instead contorted into a horrified frown. You… my best and only friend, my love. You discovered my worse secret—I knew what the consequences were and I knew what the risks were.

“I mean, what are you even doing here? Weren’t you still sleeping?”

“I woke up this morning—I got discharged—and the doctor let me take a walk… and then I saw you.”

“Do you know what I did all of this, darling?” I asked, my nerves were so tense and my blood was pumping like crazy. I was getting more and more scared. There was a thread inside me that was being pulled and pulled…

“W-what is it?” you asked with hesitation.

“It’s because… I… I love you.”

I saw the shock on your face but I couldn’t stop myself anymore. I did it. I snapped. You found out and there was no turning back. You didn’t have a choice either.

“W-what? What are you saying?”

“Darling, don’t you get it? I love you so so so so so much. I love you so much—to the point I killed for you. Yes, I did kill them. I murdered them. I slaughtered them. I made them suffer, love, the way they made you suffer… Please! Please understand—I’m doing this because I love you.”

“Chae, you’re scaring me. Stop…”

“Oh, don’t be scared, my love. I would never harm you or kill you… I would only cherish you—in fact, I did all of this to protect you from those bastards! I love you with all of my heart.”

That fire inside of me took over again and this time I was already glued to you, my knee under your thigh, pinning you to the wall, a hand on your cheek and one near your waist. You couldn’t move at all, I wouldn’t let you. I was finally this close to you… your skin was so smooth and soft—just like you, my precious baby.

Maybe I was smiling a bit too much. You’d describe to me later that I looked psychotic, yes, I was crazy.

You didn’t know how to react. I admit, you were so cute—so vulnerable and fragile, just at my mercy. Yet, you dared to take and push my hand away from your face.

“Chae, I’m sorry,” you said and it almost broke my heart, “but I just… I-I- I don’t know…” you said.

“What aren’t you sure about? Is it my love? Is it not clear enough?” I asked. “I’ll do anything for you, just ask me.”

“Please stay away from me,” you replied, “for a while.”

“What are you saying, darling?”

“Chae… you’re my best friend and I understand why you did all of that. I do. But I need to think about it. Don’t worry, I won’t say this to anyone, no one at all, but I need to stay alone for a bit,” you pleaded, “I just recovered too.”

“Okay, fine,” I agreed. You were right. It was a bit too much for you, especially after you just woke up from that concrete hospital bed. Also, I knew I could trust you. You never betrayed me so that did not scare me.

You slowly backed away and left me, alone in the alley.

I don’t know why but I started laughing hysterically.

I thought I messed up a lot. That isn’t the way your lover should look at you, right? Terrified and pleading on the verge of tears. You should have looked at me lovingly. I was so scared you’d leave me and I couldn’t let you do that. I needed you too much.

But then you left me waiting for almost a month. I respected your choice and didn’t contact you at all but it’s been too long. I figured that knowing I killed tormented you so I didn’t touch anyone else but rather I kept it to simply threatening them verbally and that seemed to work.

You have to understand I couldn’t take it anymore. Looking at your pictures every night wasn’t enough. Listening to your voice from the vocal messages wasn’t enough. Smelling the shirts I stole from you wasn’t enough, and the smell was fading away. My imagination wasn’t enough, especially when I knew I could have you and I was just waiting for the right moment.

Then the right moment came. I sent you a message just to let you know, you couldn’t say no. I went right to your house, which I came over to many times already, and even your mother knew me. She let me inside with a smile, she was so kind. I knew where you got that virtue from.

I heard you running frantically around your room. You must have been dressing up, so I waited until you were done, knocked, and opened the door. Your room smelled just like I remembered it, it was so good, it was just you.

“It’s been a while, Chae,” you said, clearly nervous. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing terrible, honey,” I answered honestly and you gulped. “You know, I’ve been good to you. I waited and did nothing else. I did not kill or hurt anyone. I let you have your space, then why did you disappear for an entire month?”

“I kept thinking and reflecting on what happened…”

“For a month?” I was furious. “Did you try to make me forget you? Did you try to forget me?”

“It’s that… It has been a tough month,” you said. “My best friend murdered 6 people, or more… How could I go back to what we were before? You killed… humans.”

“So? They didn’t deserve to live anyways. I did it for you.”

“No, Chae—”

“They beat you up so badly you couldn’t even walk!” I snapped. “They badmouthed you, they laughed at you and… why are you defending them?!”

“Yes, but you took their lives.”

“They were going to take your life too! Don’t you get it?”

“Chae, please—”

“No! Shut up! I can’t take this anymore! I can’t forgive them. They’re always making fun of you, beating you up, torturing you—just because you’re my friend! But you keep shoving it away and get hurt for me… I- I…”

I hugged you. I had to hold onto something and you were the only one that could have helped me stand up. All those years… I was so pent up, I was so tired of it. I know you told me many times to let it be but I can’t. Sorry, I just can’t help it. I can’t let anyone walk away after they hurt you, even if it’s something as little as pinching you, because you mean too much to me.

“Darling, I love you!” I sobbed and pleaded onto your chest, bathed by my tears, “I missed you so much. If I don’t see you even for a day, it starts to hurt, you know? I’ll do anything to stay with you, anything! Just tell me! I want to see you every day, I can’t let you leave like this…”

“If it’s like this,” you started, “we can make a deal.”

“A-a deal? Really?”

“Yes, a deal. You can see me how much you want but absolutely no killing. No physical assault and no insults to anyone.”

“Is that it?”

“Yes, you just have to restrain yourself.”

“Very well. Then, I promise, I will never kill again, I swear. Does that mean I can see you every day?” I asked. My tears finally stopped pouring out, the hiccup was still there, but I could focus and talk to you properly now. I took a deep breath and spoke, “Then you have to be my boyfriend from now on.”

“What did you just say?” you asked with confusion.

“You can’t say no. You are my boyfriend now. You know already, I told you so many times. I love you with all of myself.”

I knew you liked me a little already. I wasn’t sure if it was as strong as my love for you was, although I doubt it can, I knew you were interested in me. No one would stick with me for that long and no one would defend me from all those bullies. I knew you loved me, of course you did, you always took care of me since our first day and I couldn’t help but fall for you too.

I tried my best to change my appearance to suit your ideal type more. I dressed better, I dieted, I worked out, and I practiced so much that I wouldn’t disappoint you.

“Chae, are you sure? I’m just a regular guy and you’re an idol…”

“Don’t lie to yourself, honey. I wouldn’t give myself to just anyone. You never laughed about me, you believed in me when nobody else did, and you infected me with your kindness and humanity. You’re the best man I can ask for.”

“Thank you…”

“You’ll be my boyfriend and I’ll be your girlfriend, okay? Do you accept?”

“Uhm…”

“Do you accept?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Ma’am?” I laughed. “Don’t tell me you have some weird fetish going on… It’s okay. Just tell me, I won’t mind, hehe.”

Part 5

You have been very strict with me. The first thing you did was to establish a set of rules and all the punishment that would have resulted in breaking them. You’ve been very clear in defining them and made sure I understood you were very serious about it and would absolutely punish me if I dared to not respect them. They were something along the line of:

NO KILLING. The punishment is an instant break-up.

NO BODY HARM to anyone. The punishment is no contact for two weeks.

NO KIDNAPPING/STALKING/THREATENING other people. The punishment is no skin touching for a week.

RESPECT YOU. We’re together in this relationship and I have to listen to you.

TRUST YOU. You'll leave me if I don’t trust you when you tell me you aren’t cheating.

I accepted them and we started dating. Our relationship was as good as it was before but this time I got to be as clingy as I wanted, hugging you as much as I wanted, holding your hand wherever we went, and most of all you gave me a lot of head pats. You always gave me head pats to congratulate me when I did well in school or had a good performance.

It was difficult to respect those rules and you showed me how convinced you were of them when I broke the hand of a guy who shoved you against the lockers. You really ghosted me for two weeks without saying anything. When they ended I couldn’t help but jump on you and I promised to be more careful. Since then, I didn’t break any other rules and you showed me your love in so many ways, I lost count of them.

We learned a lot about each other and helped each other all the time. You helped me be more confident with my skills and get angry (but you told me I was cute when I got mad). You were always a bit discouraged with your work, giving up easily, and I made sure you knew how great you were. Just like me, school has really made you more insecure about yourself, but when we were together, we achieved a lot more.

Recently I discovered a hidden diary you used to keep under your bed, between the mattress and the frame. The last thing you wrote was months ago, way before the incident, and it was you rambling about me. ABOUT ME! And it was so adorable. “I have the biggest crush on my friend!” You wrote on the last page.

I stared at the words in a daze, it was like the words were screaming in my face. I was used to only obsessing over you and knowing you were going through the same thing warmed my heart.

You know, I’ve never believed in good endings, but with you, I think I finally found one where we are the protagonists. Our story is not like a fairy tale, it’s far from perfect, I am not a princess, nor could ever be one. However, you made me feel like one and I’m more than sure you’re my prince.

Sorry if I am always so obsessive and so imperfect, I just can’t help it.

THE END

Written, 7 June - 27 June 2023

[hornedqueenofhell]

Blueberries and Iron Pt 1

Steve was supposed to be an omega, started his heat in the Byers house during season 1. But when he ran back in to save them, his protective instincts overrode his omega biology and shifted him into an Alpha in self defense.

1986

Eddie stirs to the smell of blueberries and iron. 

It’s a scent that’s puzzled him for some time now, sweet scents were generally attributed to omegas, usually for pup rearing. Alpha scents on the other hand were generally woodsy and warm and sounded like the description on a cologne bottle. Iron wasn’t a secondary gender scent. Unless you were like a serial killer or wore people like skin suits maybe. It wasn’t a scent that should belong to Steve Harrington.

The metalhead cracks his eyes open to find that he is not in heaven or hell or even Hawkins fucking General. The room he’s in is much larger and far too quiet. He can hear the beeping of a heart monitor and it’s echoing. The ‘hospital room’ has enough room for twenty beds, all of them unoccupied except for his and the one next to him, currently in use by the owner of that strange scent.

“Steve?” His voice cracks from how dry it is and the alpha immediately whips to look at him.

“Eddie, you're awake!” Whatever Steve was reading is quickly set aside in favor of Steve tossing his covers off of him and crossing the few feet of distance to hop up onto Eddie’s bed. Eddie always liked that about Steve, he didn’t do that Alpha-y posturing bullshit, trying to act like he was bigger and tougher than every other alpha in the room. Not even in the boathouse with Eddie. Steve took care of everyone, provided protection and care to every member of his pack. If anything like Prime Alpha’s existed anywhere outside of romance novels, he thinks Steve would be one.

“Where are we, where are the others? Is Max okay? How am I not dead?” Steve places his hands on Eddie’s arms and rubs over the scent glands on his wrists, offering out his calming scent. It makes Eddie think of summer, like cobbler and the smell of hot playground equipment. Whenever Steve walked past him after he’d had a smoke Eddie always thought he smelled like the fourth of July.

“We’re at some government facility where they helped Will when he was possessed by the Mind Flayer. Most everyone is at home, we just got cleared from quarantine so they will definitely be coming to harass us soon. Max is here too, she’s going to be mostly blind and have to use a wheelchair on her bad days but she’s alive. And you’re not dead because well…” Steve scratches his cheek shyly, “I was able to resuscitate you with CPR and then I uh, got you to bite me. The half bond was able to kick on your protective instincts and kept you fighting until we were able to get out.”

“But, you’re an alpha, how is that possible?” Eddie asks with a furrowed brow.

“Well, that’s complicated.” 

Steve describes what happened to him as something similar to a feral state. Like Alphas during a mating fight or omegas protecting their pups. Owens had added on when he came to check on them that the combination of him starting his heat in such a high stress situation, the subsequent drop/adrenaline spike pushing his hormones into overdrive and the protective instinct that overtook him when he felt cornered caused his body to decide that it wasn’t safe to be an omega. 

Since the hormones had just activated and were still being ‘written’ they instead forcibly made him an alpha for his own safety. Apparently it happens to soldiers who present in combat zones extremely rarely. Something something contributing factor to why more alphas are born during wartime something something long medical terms that Eddie couldn’t understand.

So Steve had presented as an omega, and because of this shit was forced to become an alpha. Because his heart was just too damn big. People had treated Steve differently after he presented, despite being an alpha his scent had freaked people out. Because Steve Harrington smelled like blood and sickly sweet decay. Billy hadn’t even needed to take the crown from Steve, the former king had gladly punted it to the side in favor of hanging out with his ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend. And then the kids attached themselves to Steve as well.

None of them seemed bothered by Steve’s scent, possibly because they had been told about why it happened in the wake of getting Will out of the Upside Down by the government. The lot of them wore Steve’s scenting of them proudly, ferally. It added an element of steel to their still faint family driven pup scents, Steve Harrington’s pack bond was strong and anyone who approached the group did so warrily. 

And that was just the kids. Robin’s scent was deeply intermingled with Steve’s, the pair living in each other's pockets giving them a scent that almost came across bonded. Nancy’s scent with Steve’s added in made hers feel terrifyingly powerful, the ozone of a lightning strike combined with Steve’s iron scent made her smell like a gunshot. John brought out the blueberry elements more strongly, the omega tempering the iron with minty fruit, which made a lot of things make more sense now.

Steve and Jon were surprisingly close for an alpha and omega who weren’t seeing each other, but Nancy had never snarled at him or shooed him off. Rumors began to fly about Steve planning on stealing Jon as revenge for Nancy breaking up with him. Steve did not help those rumors as he playfully snapped his teeth at Jon when they rough-housed in the grass near the bleachers while Nancy looked at them with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. Steve and Jon had been playing like nest mates, like siblings. Looking back Eddie would bet good money that Jonathan Byers had probably single handedly stabilized Steve after the switch cut him off from his should have been omega instincts. 

Eddie knew through getting a couple slaps on the wrist for dealing that Steve’s family had kicked him out for his less than desirable scent and Chief Hopper had been the one who took him in. He learned from Steve that the man had got them a small house near the woods where he had lived with not only Hopper but Eleven as well. He’d become her big brother and flourished helping her catch up on school work and learning to speak clearer and read and write. The support and love Steve received had changed the young man, his insecurities about his scent batted aside by the people who cared about and supported him.

By the time he’d met Robin at Scoops the two of them were already halfway to sharing a brain cell. Robin was the first person his age he’d ever gotten to tell the truth about his designation to. She had rolled into Scoops the next day with several library books with information about the phenomenon and then held Steve when he cried because no one had ever offered to do anything like that for him. Dustin’s research apparently didn’t count because it felt too much like the curly haired boy wanted to dissect him at times. 

When Hopper had ‘perished’ after Starcourt, Steve learned that the house had been left to him. And that any and all money he had would be split equally between his two children as college funds for when or if they decided to attend a university. 

All of this Steve told him with his head tucked under the metalhead’s chin while Eddie stroked fingers down his back.

“I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met, Steve Harrington.” He says after he’s sure Steve is done.

“Nah, just in the wrong place at the wrong time and too stupid to do anything else.”

“Hey now!” Eddie rubs his scent gland over Steve’s hair, he notes that his own scent makes Steve smell like the fourth of July again. Smoke from sparklers and burning cedar in a metal fire pit. “It might only be until the bite heals but no one is allowed to talk bad about my mate, not even my mate.”

A shiver runs through Steve at those words, the idea that someone would still ever want to claim him with his biology so fucked up… “Mate huh? You propositioning another alpha Munson?”

“We’re going about things very very backwards but, I’d like to court you Steve, get to know you more outside of running for our lives. You’re beautiful and strong and the most amazing person I’ve ever known. I don’t care whether you’re an alpha or an omega, be whatever your heart desires and I’ll be halfway to falling in love with you no matter what.”

Steve hadn’t expected that to hit him so hard, to have Eddie say he wanted Steve whatever his designation. He felt tears well up in his eyes and he burrowed in close to the oth- his alpha’s scent. “I-I’d like that a lot Eddie.”

Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s head and starts up a low purr in contentment, Steve responds with a rusty chirp before purring as well as they settle down for a nap.

Pt 2

[rainbowchaox]

Yashiki and Mashita: Why the Ship Works (Yashiki POV)

We are introduced to Yashiki at the start of Death Mark as we play as him. It’s soon so apparent that his heart bleeds out like ink. He holds empathy for everyone. Spirit or alive. Much to his detriment and it’s a character flaw that follows him through the games. Yashiki is amnesiac and doesn’t know who he is and he is terrified. Rightfully so because he might die by sunrise. He cares so much about others but it’s clear from the start he doesn’t feel the same amount of care for himself. Always sacrificing himself for others.

He trusts everyone, even those he shouldn’t. And at his core he is kind. And a bit of push over at times. He is scared of so many things, but he is most scared for others. He feels he needs to be the one to watch over his companions. Yashiki is gentle, but naive, and a bit oblivious of social cues.

We play him as a blank state of sorts but he is nowhere near a self insert protagonist. He has his own personality and his own opinions. And like Mashita he is a complicated man. And has tons of facets and layers. This is especially true when we find out who he actually is.

And you might be wondering why I am going deep into his character. The fact is this ship needs people to understand their inner thoughts and psyche. I am starting with Yashiki pov as well it’s more understandable as we can hear his thoughts as he is our main character we follow. Mashita is complicated and will get his own chapter. I’m just going through both of the two points of views throughout the two canon games and why the ship works. And why it’s practically canon in all but name.

When Yashiki meets Mashita for the first time. It’s definitely not a meet cute. It’s a meet threat. Mashita literally crawled out under a blood soaked bed in a secret basement of horror. He just was there. Of course he was suspicious. Mashita is amazing but how he was introduced didn’t look good. Especially for a man that is going through horror not really knowing who he really is. Also doesn’t help that yes Mashita face looks kinda evil. Hot yes but evil. He got the nickname Detective Bedroom eyes for a reason.

The fact is even without his memories. Yashiki, despite his social awkwardness he knows how people tick. It’s probably a good skill to have in spiritual work. Whether he realizes or not he dissects everyone's psyche and mannerisms in front of him. And this is especially true for when he meets Mashita for the first time.

Mashita is only a threat for a second before Yashiki starts to understand him. We can read his thoughts. We know that despite Mashita's rough attitude. Yashiki and him literally become friendly in one single car ride. We watch Yashiki slowly gaining understanding of Mashita as a person. I believe that car ride made Yashiki realize that Mashita is a good person. And someone he can be trusted. And eventually someone he can love. A possible life partner. Though it takes a while for him to realize this. But it’s a seed that will grow with time and attention.

And Yashiki is soon shown why he was right to trust Mashita. Mashita worked with him to deal with Hanahiko. The best partner and companion he could ask. Loyal to a fault. Sure Mashita had reason to help as he also was cursed with the Death Mark. But Yashiki even then could see it wasn’t really about getting rid of the Mark but more about helping others. Though Yashiki won’t say any of this out loud.

Yashiki, after Hanahiko was dealt with, did expect Mashita to be like Moe and Tsukasa. And leave him and go back to his normal life. And stay out of the spiritual world. Leaving him to hunt for another spirit in order to not die. The fact is though. Mashita stayed. And there’s no way you can convince me that Yashiki didn’t grow attached when he realized that fact. Especially after dealing with one spirit already. Mashita didn’t leave. Mashita. Didn’t. Leave. Mashita stayed.

Mashita for better or for worse got himself marked again in order to save Yashiki. Mashita is literally the only reason why Yashiki and the others survived Shimi-O at the entrance of the forest. Mashita came to the forest because he wanted to. Sure, we find out later he has his own reasons connected to his dead senpai but that doesn’t explain why he stayed completely.

Yashiki isn’t dumb. As much he does act dumb at times. Yashiki knows Mashita could have stayed safe back in the mansion. Yashiki knows how much of a hassle the Mark is. But Mashita willingly let himself be Marked again. In order to save Yashiki and the others. I’m sorry but how can Yashiki not be wooed by such a man? Mashita cares so much. And will do anything to protect those he cares about.

Eventually Shimi-O is dealt with and Yashiki survives for another day. But sadly Mashita decided it was time for him to leave. In my opinion the reason he left was not that he dealt with too many spirits but that he realized he would drag Yashiki down. He isn’t of use anymore. He leaves because he cares. Mashita lies though. Acts like he had enough experience with spirits.

And Yashiki knows this on some level. You can even choose to say I will miss you to Mashita. Which Mashita canonically gets a bit flustered at. Mashita promises Yashiki to give him a drink when he gets out of the Mark business eventually. Mashita literally asked him on a date when he gets the Mark on his wrist dealt with.

And so Mashita takes his leave for the rest of the main game. Even so, as much as the other characters are amazing in their own right. Mashita left his mark. There’s a reason why he is a fan favorite. Mashita and Yashiki have the best chemistry. It’s no wonder why so many who play the game leave thinking they are interested in each other. Their relationship is like no other.

Eventually Yashiki finds out the truth and deals with Mary. Curing himself of the Mark. Finally free from the ordeal. And we find out that Mashita wants Yashiki to join him for investigations now that he is working as a private eye. This shows how much Mashita respects Yashiki. Despite his rough mouth. And how Mashita wants Yashiki to be by his side.

Then the Red Riding Hood case came to be. The only reason Yashiki became involved was because Mashita strong armed him into getting involved. Yashiki at that point wanted to return to normalcy and find a way to seal Mary forever. But Mashita barged his way into the mansion. And demanded to take the case and take responsibility for telling the old hag about his private eye work.

This shows me that in the time off screen that Yashiki and Mashita grew close. Mashita feels comfortable enough to waltz right in. Yashiki be damned. For most of the case, Mashita isn’t present as he is busy with other cases. A recurring theme that will also happen in Death Mark 2.

Mashita and Yashiki are such a good team. Spirits be damned. But both have clear weaknesses when they are apart. They are Yin and Yang. Each other half. Mashita is logical while Yashiki is emotional. They are just a fantastic team. So literally they have to be apart for most of the cases because they are too overpowered.

Mashita returns after most of the companions Yashiki was investigating with. Are hospitalized. And they immediately are such a good team. Mashita always slaps Yashiki back to reality and gets him to focus on the task at hand. Which is needed after him practically having a panic attack knowing how many of his friends are in the hospital.

Mashita eventually leaves Yashiki outside. And tries to start the car because clearly Yashiki was dealing with a migraine given to him by a spirit. A female spirit that wants a piece of him. A common theme but he never reacts. And Yashiki's gentle heart is swayed to enter the hotel by Red Riding Hood.

And he almost dies. The spirit almost drags him out the window. But he is saved yet again by Mashita. And Mashita almost breaks. He grabs him and brings Yashiki up. And that’s when I personally believe Yashiki realized he loves Mashita. And this shows why they work so well together. And their different views and why both decided to fully stay in the spiritual world. Yashiki wants to be empathetic to spirits while Mashita believes humans and spirits should stay in their different worlds.

Then Death Mark 2 happens. Not only do we see that their closeness is even more apparent. They talk often on the phone. Yashiki is especially gay about Mashita in this game. Despite the whole premise being that yet another female ghost wants to marry him. Again Mashita isn’t present until the last two chapters as he would slap Yashiki back into reality and solve the whole The Departed business in a chapter. But those two chapters give us so much.

When we finally see Mashita. The best way I can explain how their dynamic has changed. It is that they are more playful with each other. They are used to each other by now. They definitely give the impression that they interact with each other alot out of work. They care alot about each other.

They are way more playful with each other. They even meowed and hissed at a rock of all things. Which Mashita only made Yashiki do to make Yashiki look dumb. Mashita literally lives to make fun of Yashiki. Another aspect is how they are practically canon besides saying it outright. Yashiki, despite having so many ghosts into him and seeing so much fan-service, never reacts. The Departed usually made characters vanish for a bit. The Departed hates Mashita though. So much.

The Departed fully thought of Mashita as serious competition. The Departed acted like a wife seeing her husband have an affair. And chased after Mashita. The Departed said “His wife should be the one by his side”. The spirit was so jealous of Mashita because even if it’s not said outright. There’s something more there.

Yashiki meanwhile felt actual grief thinking Mashita is dead. And only bringing himself the strength to continue because it would be what Mashita would have wanted. He could only bring himself to continue because of Mashita. Mashita also told it to him straight and brought himself back to reality. And never faltered believing him despite Yashiki being convinced he is a murderer.

Eventually The Departed is solved. And we are shown that Mashita canonically leaves his jacket which is very much implied to be his dead Senpai trench coat at the Kujou mansion. Like a cat showing his territory. And from the crumbs in NG we know that Mashita and Yashiki continue acting as a team. And sorta get famous for it.

All in all, Yashiki doesn’t fall first. He is akin to a frog in a pot of boiling water. And actions always mean more to him than what a person says. Him and Mashita have such good chemistry. The ship is canon in all but name. They are practically boyfriends already canonically. And each other's favorite person.

[chefkids]

Fork Theory

This is the second part of the Spoon-Fork-Knife Theory  that I believe makes up the main themes of the whole series and each season. Make sure to read the Spoon Theory before this and then read The Knife Theory. Mikey’s fork used to represent a moment of extreme stress is really what sold me on the SFK theory being a core part of the show, because it is so not subtle once you realize what they symbolize.

Richie was reaching his limit with too many forks. He had lost his best friend, his wife left him, he had no purpose or ambition. He was constantly being pushed aside and given tasks that were small and inconsequential enough because everyone expects him to mess up.

Richie became a “fork” to other people, especially Carmy and Sydney, when he was constantly stressing them out and getting in the way of their progress. He was scared of change and annoyed by them because they were so driven and had a clear purpose when he did not.

He was reaching his fork limit and felt like he was being left behind with all the changes happening to the restaurant. Every time he tried to help he just messed things up. He asked Carmy about what his purpose was and told him the story of the guy who had no skills and just watched trains all day, and eventually all his friends moved on without him. It wasn’t until he embraced the literal forks he was given to clean, that he found a way to his purpose.

Carmy and his entire family have far too many forks. Donna has her drinking issues and mental illness. Mikey had his issues. The whole absent father of it all. Mikey stayed behind and lived with Donna in attempts to care for her, but it wore him down so much that he gave up on trying to fix up The Beef and he gave up on himself. Natalie and Carmy felt as though they have to be the ones fix them. Natalie stayed behind to try and care for Donna even when she refused her help, while Carmy left home to try and be good enough for Mikey to let him help The Beef. Carmy tries to cover up the forks and ignore them, he ignored the obvious signs that something was really wrong with Mikey. He ignored confronting his mother in order to avoid creating further tension and escalating things into bigger “forks”. Meanwhile Natalie tries to address them directly.

Donna hit her fork limit when Natalie asked her at the table if she was okay because she can not handle acknowledging she is not okay.

Mikey hit his fork limit when Lee made a dig at Donna’s outburst, because Mikey knows better than anyone what it is actually like to be with her and to constantly have to handle every “fork” that Donna throws his way. And in a way, Carmy hit his fork limit and had to leave them after this.

Carmy had been avoided dealing with his “forks” for a long time. The biggest “fork” still yet to be addressed is that he apparently has yet to even see his mother since returning to Chicago. So by opening night all the metaphorical and even physical forks came flooding in at once, from the broken fridge handle, the shelves in the wrong place, the lack of real forks, the broken toilet, his situation with Claire, even Donna showing up, it all came crashing at once.

Donna tried to remove her “forks” by leaving the party and crashing her car to get everyone to stop and finally pay attention to her, because she feels so overlooked for all her efforts that she put into the dinner. After the incident happened, Carmy went even further away from his family, because removing himself is the only way he knows how to cope with “forks”.

When the to-go disaster happens he becomes a “fork” and makes the situation worse for everyone by freaking out, so Sydney and Marcus also had to remove themselves from the “fork”. When Sydney quit his first instinct to get rid of the most obvious “fork” by breaking the ticket machine instead of actually fixing anything. Then he almost let the building burn down because he just wanted it all to stop and did not have the “spoons” to cope with any more “forks” by himself now that Sydney wasn’t even there.

Carmy already knew since the start of the day he was not okay with Claire. Instead of addressing the “fork” he had with her before she came to the restaurant, when he knew he had to be focused on Sydney, he ignored it and let the “fork” get to him which got him locked in the walk in. He even acknowledge that he “did this to himself”, because he knows he was avoiding all his “forks”.

Carmy does have the "spoons" to do what he needs to do and work well, he is capable of being a good chef and a good person and being emotionally in tune, but he can't access his "spoons" half the time because he is still riddled with the trauma of all his forks that he pretends he doesn't have.

[cellarspider]

14/?? Gnosis, and lack thereof

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We return to the movie that could’ve been a contender, Prometheus. In this episode, a two-year-old poisons a man.

I’m not alone in thinking David is the most well-realized character in this movie. Michael Fassbender was given the most space to act through expression and reaction to others and his environment, which helps create an android character that has much more inner life than his human castmates. He also gets what I’d call the Data bonus: android characters can more easily get away with screamingly clunky exposition or explicitly stating the meaning of a scene. You can give them absolute gibberish if you want to, and it sounds perfectly logical when they say it.

[Video description: A small selection of technobabble from Star Trek: The Next Generation, mostly featuring Data.]

David is also the easiest to be sympathetic to, because people keep being assholes to him.

Yes, David has received mysterious orders from a mysterious man who’s still in stasis. It’s Peter Weyland. It’s obviously Peter Weyland, this is why David has the dream-reading helmet thing that felt so out of place at the start of the movie. This is also why Guy Pierce, a 45-year-old, was hired to play an infinity-year-old man. Weyland was going to appear as his ideal self in one of these dream sequences, but it was cut from the movie. So instead, we just have Vickers demanding to know what “he” wants, and the answer is “Try harder”.

Peter Weyland, beginning a trend for the company bearing his name, has an obsession with this alien stuff. …This trend was actually begun by Charles Bishop Weyland in a completely different continuity that also featured ancient alien contact with Earth, but hey, details. This Weyland wants results, damn it, and David gets an excuse to kill one of the crew.

Although it’s not quite that simple. The movie indicates that David can’t go against orders from the company, especially from Weyland. He has to “try harder”, and he’s brought back one of those alien urns that apparently nobody cares to examine but him. 

It’s got a goth lava lamp in it.

While we don’t get much indication David knows why this stuff is dangerous to organic life, I’ll give the movie a very tiny pass: it’s implied that David has figured out how to read the Engineer’s cuneiform script. He decants a droplet of Menacing Black Goo onto his (Weyland-branded) fingertip, and sets off to find a test subject.

Thank god, he chooses Holloway.

I don’t like not liking characters. I don’t generally anticipate seeing someone’s comeuppance, but this movie gets me damn close to that feeling. In the movie’s partial defense, some of this was probably intended. Mainstream American fiction sets a high bar for what a bigot looks like, and Holloway’s been clearing that. I’m less certain the movie knows everyone’s behaving like a bigot, but we’ll get to that eventually. But Holloway? Definitely. 

This creates a fairly interesting scene. One that even reaches towards good. David has the means to kill Holloway. The audience knows this. And we get to watch when he makes the decision to commit to it, and why. And, blessedly, it actually ties into an intentional theme of this movie.

Holloway’s still drunk and miserable–he’d previously muttered that the alien structure on the planet was “just another tomb.”

I, speaking hyperbolically, would consider that grounds enough to off him. He’s an archaeologist who can be sent into a drinking binge by finding a thing made by dead people. An archaeologist. That in itself is such a ridiculous indicator of how unfit this character is for his role.

But no, he wanted to meet his maker, “To get answers.” Sure, lots of people have existential questions they feel are important to them. That is understandable. Even clueless assholes can wonder about that. But it takes an especially hubristic asshole to decide they’re the one worthy of asking someone who might have the answer. 

Did anybody notice they didn’t bring any diplomats or orators on this trip? They didn’t bring any cultural exchange gifts with them when they approached the alien structure? They weren’t treating the Engineers as people, just something to discover.

David, someone else they’re not treating like people, asks Holloway “Why do you think your people made me?”, and the answer he gets is “Because we could.” David is quietly but openly disappointed in that.

This is the whiplash of this movie. We have the biggest bunch of shambolic assholes klutzing around, waiting to get killed off by the plot, and then we have David expressing the horror of Valentinian gnosticism.

In brief, because even the wikipedia page says “The theology [...] is extremely complicated and difficult to follow”, the strain of Christian gnosticism expressed by the 2nd century theologian Valentinus believes that the world was created by an ignorant being. They believed there was a benevolent god out there which was/produced Jesus, but the “demiurge” (lit. “craftsman”) who created the world was not this deity. The demiurge was an imperfect, lesser being, that believed itself to be the supreme god of the universe. In Valentinianism, as with other gnostic schools, to be born into the world was to be trapped within a creation of a creature that was prone to fits of abusive behavior.

Gnostic christianity was, at the time, an attempt to square a number of contradictory ideas: the incredibly influential ideas of Plato on the formation of the universe, the growing theology of the new Christian movement, and the examples of divine wrath and jealousy in Jewish scripture, that were hard to square with what early Christians saw as a less violent deity they wanted to worship. There were probably also some anti-Jewish Egyptian myths thrown in as well, depicting their god as a donkey-headed incarnation of the malevolent deity Set. Some may recognize that particular slander from its deployment against early Christians, including our first-ever depiction of Jesus’ crucifixion: a rude bit of graffiti.

In our time, there’s only one remaining gnostic (non-christian) religion with direct continuity to the period, the Mandaeans. Christian gnosticism was deemed heretical, when one of the many different gospels circulating at the time was selected as orthodox in the 4th century, along with an attendant theology. But it remains a fertile ground for philosophers, fiction-writers, and every once in a while someone reinvents bits of it when they hit upon contradictions in christian thought.

The latter seems to be the case with Ridley Scott. He’s sometimes described as an atheist, but his actual statements on the matter show he’s either casually gnostic or a deist, very much influenced by christian doctrine: 

“If we looked at the whole thing practically speaking, the Big Bang occurred and then we go through this evolution of millions, billions of years where, by coincidence, all the right biological accidents came out the right way. To an extent, that doesn't make sense unless there was a controlling decider or mediator in all of that. So who was that? Or what was that? Are we one big grand experiment in the basic overall blink of the universe, or the galaxy? In which case, who is behind it?”

https://www.bbc.co.uk/films/callingtheshots/ridley_scott.shtml

Tangent: that question came right after he’s quoted as saying “I think there's no originality [in modern films]. I think everyone is stealing from everyone else and going back to the originals. I usually go in for 20 minutes and then get up and leave.” This interview was back in 2006. The next year he’d direct American Gangster (loosely based on a biography), then Body of Lies (Roger Ebert called it "a James Bond plot"), then Robin Hood (it’s Robin Hood), then Prometheus, the movie I only watched because it seemed to be in dialog with a film he directed in 1979. Buddy, if that was your problem, you were part of the problem.

But anyway. We have a director who had stated interest in a christian-influenced cosmogony: he seems to state a belief that we exist because we are supposed to exist, rather than being a random event. This is a movie where he does seem to be trying to do something with that. He is beginning with that premise, and using Alien as the shared language to express it. He doesn’t know why we exist, but he can imagine why we would make someone exist.

Placing that in amongst these characters is bleak to the point of puerility, frankly. Why would we create a being like us? Well, this one asshole doesn’t know.

David, at this point in Prometheus, has already determined that humans are fallible creators. Hell, he’s decided the Engineers were also failable. He, y’know, witnessed how gooey one of their corpses was. But he’s yet to decide on whether humans are just ignorant, trying and failing to be good–as per Valentinus–or if they’re actively malevolent.

The fact that David doesn’t poison Holloway’s drink until just before handing it over does neatly show that he was quietly given a chance to answer that question. Holloway continues to be a jackass and, when asked what he’d do to answer the existential question he wanted to pose to the Engineers, he says he’d do “anything and everything”.

The movie eventually treats Peter Weyland as especially deluded in his self-serving quest to get the Engineers to answer his more selfish questions, but I don’t think his ego was unique in this movie.

On our journey into the movie this time, Prometheus has attempted to grapple with subjects its script hasn’t earned. Next time, it incorporates imagery it hasn’t earned. It’s worse than this scene, but in a far more subtle way.

If you want a neat look on european and middle eastern mysticism from an academic standpoint, Esoterica is a pretty damn good channel, put together by a self-described “dialectical materialist in the tradition of Structural Marxism”. I’ll happily take recommendations on other academic sources aimed at the general audience.

https://youtu.be/7EwRD6SzXws

https://st-takla.org/Feastes-&-Special-Events/Coptic-Nativity-of-Jesus-Christ-Milad-El-Masih/Coptic-Jesus-Incarnation-Christmas-03-Incarnation-of-the-Word-Book.html 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masbuta 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Drabsha 

https://www.deviantart.com/pretty--kittie/art/Prometheus-Engineer-407322241 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archon_(Gnosticism) 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sethianism

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[logicheartsoul]

This meta has been a few years coming, but recently inspired due to: 1) Sian (@siancore) mentioning and incorporating into her amazing fic End of the World the moment that this meta is about, and 2) talking to Mexi (@thatmexisaurusrex) about this and then when she made that "share your fave sambucky moments that are canon" post, I knew this needed to finally been written and have its own proper post.

(Also, to @elektraking who wanted to be pinged when I finally wrote this, I finally did it!)

This post is long and image heavy but I didn't want to put it all under a read more.

We all know this scene from Infinity War, it's been all over people's dashes and giffed and etc etc. We also know it's a pretty quick scene, not necessarily a blink and you miss it one, but because it moves pretty quickly. If you're not paying too much attention to everyone else in the background, things will slip by.

However, watching things in 4K can really make things interesting because 1) you can zoom in and 2) you can zoom in and see some pretty clear detail, like the fact Sam and Bucky are looking at each other during this entire scene.

You can see here that everyone present except Sam isn't really watching Steve and Bucky interact -- either they're blocked from of the camera (Rhodey, Ayo, Bruce) or they're not looking at them (Nat has her eyes closed, T'Challa is looking at the side).

Sam is clearly in Bucky's line of sight, even if Bucky is looking at Steve (because we know Steve is moving closer to him and is about to talk to him)

On zoom in, we can see Sam is not zoned out, this is a very focused look at what is happening in front of him.

The next moment is where Steve goes in for the hug, but during this hug, a couple of things happen: 1) Sam moves closer towards them a bit, 2) he and Bucky actually DO stare at each other over Steve's shoulder

And for more than a few moments. Sort of significant if you think about the fact that Sam and Bucky seem to communicate a lot with nonverbal looks between each other. (We see this a few times in Civil War, and then later in this movie, but that will be even more apparent as fact in Endgame and, of course, TFATWS.)

And perhaps this could be passed off as "looking at each other coz we're looking in the same direction" except for the fact that Bucky makes a deliberate look at Sam when we get the pan over to his face.

When Steve backs away from the hug, we see Sam is still looking at Bucky, so we can assume during the entire exchange when the camera goes towards Bucky, Sam is still doing that.

Which leads us to when the camera pans over to Bucky.

(Yeah, yeah the cropping on this is kinda weird for me, but I wanted to make sure you could see his face.)

Steve proceeds to ask Bucky how he's doing. And of course, Bucky gives some kind of cutesy quip that fills space and time before going to the next big plot thing.

It's very interesting that Bucky pauses right after saying "uh, not bad", but as indicated by the arrow I put in the gif, he's staring in the exact direction where Sam would be. Because if you notice in the screenshots before this moment, above, when Bucky and Steve break away from the hug, Sam is in Bucky's line of sight but somewhat to the side, the same direction as the glance in the gif.

Now, as we know, the others are barely watching Steve and Bucky's interaction except Sam, who's still watching with focused attention.

If you were standing where Sam is standing, watching all of this, hearing Steve asking Bucky, "how's it going" and he responds "uh, not bad," and pauses WHILE looking at a glance in your direction, most people would consider that a moment.

And why wouldn't it be a moment? No one else is paying attention to Bucky or Steve except Sam. Bucky and Sam have before this comment were looking at each other when Steve brings in Bucky to a hug. Hell, Bucky could have just said "for the end of the world" without looking sideways and the scene would've worked as intended.

Yet, he gives that glance, and has a smile as he says, "not bad". While looking at Sam. It's so quick, yet it says so much. And considering how we know it's canon for them to be able to speak volumes by just sharing glances at each other (hello Sam looking at Bucky during Endgame), why wouldn't that apply here too? Because the glance wasn't really needed if you think about it.

And of course, Bucky deflects with his "for the end of the world" coz 1) he doesn't want Steve to try to make more small talk and 2) world ending shit is happening, they do NOT have time to stand around, they need to coordinate and they're on a time table. Because we all know Steve, he would want to know the reason why Bucky is actually smiling probably one of the first genuine smiles he's given on screen since TWS.

Anyway, we all know the rest: the plot moves forward, Sam and Bucky end up standing close to each other to witness Thanos' forces trying to get through Wakanda's shields, and then they end up being blipped.

Still, while a short, quick moment, on closer inspection, a lot can be said. Another in a line of Sam and Bucky's "saying things with a look" moments, but an underappreciated one.

[cerastes]

It’s great that IS4 will have better distributed and more “fun” oriented intensifiers (called ‘Natures’ in this case, until they release an official term, if they change it). Waves in IS3 were, to be frank, rather shoddily implemented, starting with the way Arts damage gets kneecapped horribly bad. In IS4, it’s instead a general, smaller Damage Reduction for both Phys and Arts.

The Hope handicap in IS3 was the reason a good amount of people didn’t really even try or stuck to People Skills squad: it was too early, too much

3* non-reserves cost 1 Hope. That immediately changes how IS is played at a fundamental level: Kroos 3* is a great addition to any team because of her innate good damage, spinach compatibility, and 0 cost… But is she worth that precious 1 Hope when your 6* mainliners will cost a whooping 7 Hope? Suddenly that Reserve Sniper seems a whole lot better at 0 cost. It’s a pretty big ask at Waves 4: Even if you only consider Waves 7 as the max difficulty for the purposes of scoring, that’s still way early to throw such a huge change into the mix. Nature 6 seems more apt, and note it only affects 4* and up. I think it’s a step in the right direction; at Waves 4, using Reserves is fine, but at Waves 13 and up, by the time enemies receive their Floor 2 buffs, that’s already a stat heft the Reserves will struggle to compete with, and they have no Skill to even the field. Yes, Waves 8 and above is flexing and testing your own limits, but this can and should also be fun, and getting Hope-starved so badly is a huge turn off to a lot of people, so they use People Skills squad. Then they get bored because using anything but People Skills squad on Waves 4 and above means dealing with the Hope drought.

I also would like if they made Natures more apparent in the UI tbh. This is definitely not an HG blunder, but a concerning amount of people didn’t know (maybe don’t know) that there’s a ladder of difficulties in IS3, because AK players hate reading or are allergic to tutorial text or some other phenomenon, so I had plenty of anons saying IS3 was easier than IS2 and in the same ask asking what these Waves I spoke of were.

All in all, I hope IS4 ends up feeling better than IS3. I do like IS3, but it was a bit of a letdown, to be dorothy frank. I think the Seaborn aesthetic was not really used to its fullest (maps are boring slates of light blue with a pretty boring bgm). It was fun grinding out the Week 1 Waves 15 clear, but after that, it didn’t grab me nearly as hard as IS2 did with it’s excellent aesthetic and replayability.

When it comes to bosses and minibosses: IS3 minibosses are kiiiinda mid. IS2’s Golem and Jetman are fun, the Clown was scary depending on your build, the… Shooty dude was mid, and IS3 midbosses feel like him for the most part.

I like Highmore Boss more than Phantom Boss, I think Highmore is a really good boss and map. Last Knight is the single most miserable boss to fight in the game and very boring even when you know what to do, and somehow worse than Big Sad Lock. Ishar-mla is fine, not bad, not very good, just fine, which is a bit of a letdown for me, considering Mouthpiece is one of my favorite bosses in the game. Jury’s still out on Boss #4, hope it’s good, Playwright isn’t phenomenal but he’s good.

My thoughts on the state of IS3. Though these are various criticisms I have for it, I do wish to note: it’s still a fun mode, and I think a great learning experience: balancing a roguelike or roguelite is not easy and it wasn’t as good as I wanted it to be, but it’s still a fun game mode.

[heesdreamer]

it will be

PAIRING ➩ sunghoon x reader x jay

SUMMARY ➩ starting your life in college filled with your mothers paranoia and lack of social skills, you befriend three boys with a long twisted history. a history that somehow leads to the handsome boy with the cold stare.

GENRE ➩ slight mystery but mainly college slice of life strangers to enemies to friends to lovers (lol) with a love triangle

WARNINGS ➩ mentions of character death and suicide (not proofread)

WC ➩ 14.6k

Your mother had always made it clear to you what type of people to stay away from.

You’d hear countless stories and lectures, paranoia fueled nostalgia about girls who smacked their gum too loud and teachers who have bushy mustaches.

She spent most of your childhood passing on her warnings to you, preparing you for the trials and many characters life would throw in your path, and you held onto every word.

It almost became a game between the two of you, you’d lean over in public and tug on her sleeve, giving a subtle nod towards a stranger while out in public. She’d either give you a soft shrug, a smile and a nod, or she’d furrow her eyebrows and wag her fingers.

The latter was the expression you saw the most, and it was her way of telling you, that person was absolutely up to no good.

It’s times like this you wish your mother was here with you and that it wouldn’t be a total social disaster if she was. You considered for a second pulling your phone from your bag and giving her a call, asking her read on the people around you in a soft hushed whisper.

And there was lots of people around you. It was the first day of college orientation and you were standing in, what was apparently, a student hotspot. You’d wish you’d known this sooner so you could’ve mapped out your route better and avoided this mess of uniforms and loud voices.

You imagined the way you were raised saved you from a lot of awkward situations, possibly helping you to avoid ever being pranked or taken advantage of throughout high school.

But now that you were a freshly turned adult and starting your new independent free life, you started to think her paranoia had rubbed off on you completely. You were a mess and no amount of keeping your head held high and shoulders back was disguising it.

You don’t think you were standing still for that long, although maybe your figure stood clutching your single book was just too hard to avoid in the rushing foot traffic around you, but you realized you must’ve been dazed out when you felt a body slam into you from behind.

Propelling forward, your hands went out in front of you and collided roughly onto the cement. A hiss of pain shot it’s way out from between your clenched teeth and you shut your eyes tight in a silent prayer you hadn’t broken any skin.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” The voice coming from your right was pitchy and frantic, guilt and panic coating the words and you sighed softly, furrowing your brows at the sidewalk below you. When you finally took a glance up at your collider, you attempted to tame your expression to a neutral one.

You were slightly taken back to see, not one, but three people around you. All of their gazes held different levels of upset and you quickly pieced together the one with the red face and jittering hands was the one who had run into you.

“I’m so sorry.” The boy was frowning deeply and tugging on the sleeve of his knitted sweater, for a moment you wondered if he was going to cry. “I’m really so sorry, they always tell me I need to watch where I’m walking.”

You scanned your eyes to the two boys next to him and one gave you a soft shrug in approval to what he was saying.

The other was suddenly kneeling down beside you, reaching over to grab your book that had been abandoned in the grass for the length of your conversation. He looked at the cover for just a moment before smiling and nudging it in your direction.

Despite the short duration they’ve been in your line of sight, you could practically see your mother next to you, giving you a warm smile and a thumbs up as she pointed at the trio of boys.

That was all you needed to give you a jump, taking your book back and standing swiftly. You didn’t bother brushing the rocks from your knees or checking if they were bleeding, you needed to get out of here as soon as possible.

“Not a big deal.” You muttered, trying to keep it as genuine as you could muster. And it truly was not a big deal, the boy was sorry and obviously meant no harm. Yet the embarrassment of both falling and your terrible social skills was getting to you.

You heard a soft squeal like groan and your eyes widened, shooting back to the boy who had hit you.

“You’re bleeding.” He practically shrieked and now you were truly convinced he was going to start crying any moment now. “Let us make it up to you, do you like chocolate?”

“How about coffee?” The second boy, the one who had shrugged, was speaking now and your eyes floated in his direction before going back to the first who was now digging through his bag, presumably for chocolate.

You were fully furrowing your eyebrows now, not bothering to mask your expression of confusion. The boy who had picked up your book was smiling still, playful amusement now gracing his features.

He felt your gaze on him and met your eyes, startling you slightly, he furthered your confusion by raising an eyebrow at you and adjusting his glasses. For a split second you mistook his expression as flirtatious and you felt sleazed out before realizing it was simple adoration for his friends antics.

“I think,” You cleared your throat and thankfully the first boy halted in his backpack rummaging, still looking flustered. “I’d prefer a free coffee over…. your backpack candy.”

The three remained frozen for a moment before the second boy started to laugh, swaying into the one with glasses. “Jake, seriously dude. Why would she eat candy from a stranger?”

The first boy, who you now knew was called Jake, looked insulted and even more taken back as the conversation went on. “I literally go here, look at my beanie. Am I going to poison her in broad daylight right in the square?“

Your eyes trailed up to his beanie and you almost laughed, now noticing your universities logo knitted onto the fold. The boy with glasses was still smiling as he watched you, seemingly gauging your reactions to the current topic.

“To be fair the coffee would be free regardless.” Your attention went back to the second boy and you were starting to feel used to the dizzying pace of conversation changes. “Our friend works there, we don’t have to pay.”

“Sounds like a friend I’d want to have.” You were proud of the way it flowed off your tongue, feigning like you weren’t dripping in awkwardness was working in your favor.

With soft smiles you watched them turn on their heels and for a moment you lagged, wondering if you were meant to follow them or if they were just joking about hanging out with you. The paranoia was quickly lost when the boy with glasses glanced behind him, waiting for you to catch up.

——

It didn’t take long for you to understand that ‘getting free coffee from our friend’ more so meant they were planning to beg and plead with the pretty boy behind the counter for drinks.

The second you had walked through the door, a chirpy whistle ringing through the speakers to announce your arrival, the boy wearing an apron had sighed and rolled his eyes in your direction.

“Guys, not today. It’s busy okay.” He was waving a hand in dismissal but he had no annoyance on his face despite the exaggerated expressions. Still despite his warnings, the trio of boys all rushed towards the counter top and you followed hesitantly behind them.

“It’s urgent this time Sunoo.” Jake rushed out and the pink haired barista, Sunoo (apparently), put a hand on the counter and gave Jake a knowing look. “No I mean it this time, our new friend is injured.”

You completely froze at his word choice and four sets of eyes looked in your direction. Sunoo’s eyes softened seeing your bloody knees and hands, getting a closer look as you awkwardly waved as an introduction.

“What’d you do Jay?” He was asking and you felt confused for a second before remembering you hadn’t even gotten the other boys names.

Your silent question was quickly answered by the boy in glasses yelling out in defense and smacking a hand on the counter top. “Why would it be me?“

“It was Jake.” The second boy, still unnamed to you, was talking again and you watched him silently. “But it was an accident and we are here requesting an apology coffee.”

Sunoo’s eyes were flickering over their shoulders and back to you now and you held his gaze, curious about his thoughts on the situation. “Did they offer a real apology first?”

The other boys turned back to look at you and you once again saw Jake’s eyes well up with guilt for hurting you. You shrugged softly and dug the toe of your shoe towards the floor.

“I like coffee.”

——

You’d been spending the last few weeks waiting for your genetic ‘bad person’ radar to go off.

At times you felt guilty for almost looking for a reason to not trust the four boys who had quickly become your first and only friends at college and quite frankly, throughout your entire school career.

During one of your many movie nights, you’d just sit and watch their faces. Waiting for a moment of fake expression, a slight glare towards the others or a glitch in their nice facade. But you were quickly understanding that you had simply hit the lottery on friends.

You were especially fond of Jungwon, the final nameless boy had swiftly infiltrated your daily routine and become your closest and most trusted friend. You knew you weren’t his bestfriend, considering he was the type of person who made friends anywhere he went, but you found yourself feeling lucky he was yours.

The other three were just as good, although slightly more extroverted than you were prepared for. Jake was loud and puppy like, and absolutely clumsy, something you should’ve realized considering your first encounter.

Jay wasn’t around as much as the other three, rarely texting back in the group chat but Jungwon assured you he was just busy studying and that he also was on the football team, which surprised you.

When he was around, he was typically quiet and silently moving around with an amused look remaining stuck on his face.

And most of your mornings throughout the week, you spent with Sunoo, sitting in the same spot in the corner of the small coffee shop and attempting to show gratitude for all the free drinks he gave to you.

It was taking you some time to catch onto their rhythm, they were obviously familiar with each other and had learned each other’s patterns and behaviors but you felt a small bud of hope and pride knowing you had managed to make friends despite how sheltered you felt on your first day.

Now however, you were regretting it.

Somehow, unbeknownst to you, Jake had not only managed to drag all 3 of you to Jay’s first football game of the year, but he had also gotten you all to coordinate supportive outfits.

“I definitely don’t like the school enough to be wearing this.” Your mouth was downturned in a slight pout and your arms were crossed tightly in front of you, resisting the urge to scratch at the paint on your cheeks.

“But we like Jay.” Jake argued, stretching his leg over the bleacher and tumbling into the spot next to you. You heard Sunoo groan from the other side of him as pieces of his popcorn spilled overtop. “And you look sort of badass.”

You turned your head to scowl at him and met his smiley face, the mock war paint across his raised cheeks was mirroring yours.

“You do a bit.” Your eyes shifted slightly to watch Jungwon’s head peek out from behind Sunoo. They looked like three meerkats all staring at you with big smiles. “The pout really adds to the intensity.”

“Oh I can be intense.” You argued and uncrossed your arms, placing them firmly down on the bleachers. You tried to hold back the shiver that wracked through you when your hands touched the dewy droplets.

Then the game was starting and Jay was following his teammates out onto the wet grass, his eyes focused and more intense than you were used to.

“Let’s go Jongsung.” Jake was springing from his seat suddenly, arms up in the air and you jumped back to avoid the rain of popcorn that he seemingly forgot he was holding.

You were stopped in your slide away from Jake and his food tornado when you smacked into somebody’s side, you quickly swung your head around to glance to your right and froze up at the icy glare being shot your way.

The boy sitting next to you was staring daggers down towards you as you leaned back onto your hands, attempting to distance yourself from his face while also not wanting to sit on the wet popcorn.

There was a beat of silence that passed between the two of you, the sounds of your friends cheering and the plays of the game being announced slightly drowned out but the rush of anxiety in your head.

You weren’t sure what you were waiting for, if you were expecting the boy to snap at you for colliding with him or maybe even pick a fight with Jake for spilling his popcorn all over the surrounding area. His eyebrows were downturned still and you imagined whatever it was, couldn’t be good.

For a second you could see your mom, frowning and wagging her finger in you in a haste to alert you that this guy was bad news, and then he spoke.

“You have popcorn in your hair.”

Your mouth parted in surprise and it took you a moment to process that he was speaking, and that it was directed towards you, and he hadn’t called you an idiot for hitting him so suddenly. Without moving you glanced up at your hair, still frozen in your seat.

“I’m sorry about my friend.” A voice was coming from behind you now and you realized Sunoo had climbed out of his seat and was now sitting on the bleacher above you, watching the interaction with a curious look. “She’s an idiot.”

This knocked you out of your trance and you scowled, turning your body to smack his leg and push him as he started to laugh and scoot back towards his seat next to Jungwon. You turned back to the boy and your scowl dropped when you met his stare again.

“I’m sorry.” You tried to keep your voice steady but your eyes failed you, bouncing all around his face and back over his shoulder to avoid looking at him. He didn’t respond to you, only watching you intensely for a moment and then turning back away from you.

Once the hold of his gaze was lifted you slowly turned your body back to face the field, locking eyes with your friend who was standing against the fence down on the greenery. He raised an eyebrow in your direction and you titled your head in confusion, but a whistle was blown and he was jogging back to the benches before you could get an explanation.

——

The boy eventually left and you were able to relax, the game went by faster than you had thought it would and you even found yourself having a lot of fun watching them play, despite not understanding exactly why you were standing and cheering as you followed Jake’s lead. You were glad to be leaving the stands now though, hands cold and stiff, your nose was most likely bright red as you sniffled and walked down the slippery steps.

Out in the parking lot, it was dark now except for the bright lights from the field causing a slight white hue onto the parked cars. You carefully avoided puddles as you listened to your friends animatedly talk and recap the plays.

“So you enjoyed it then?” A voice was calling out slightly, cutting off Jungwon mid sentence and causing the three of them to stop their pace and glance behind you. You followed their actions, turning around slowly to see who had spoke.

There was two boys you didn’t recognize approaching you and you felt a spike of anxiety run through you at the unfamiliar situation. Their football uniforms showing your schools logo slightly calmed your nerves as you figured your friends must know them.

However you felt a hand wrap around your arm and turned your head to see Jake scowling and pulling you back towards the three of them. You hadn’t seen Jake with such a negative expression before and the fear built up again.

“What do you want Nishimura?” His voice was deeper than usual and laced with anger and annoyance. The two boys across from you kept up on their strides to approach you, stopping a few car lengths away.

One of the boys, still wearing his football gear but loosely holding his helmet down by his side, smiled and held a hand out in mock surrender. “Since when are we so hostile Jakey? Don’t be so formal.”

“Don’t ask stupid questions then.” The tone of Sunoo’s voice was one you had heard before, when he scolded Jungwon or complained about the noise of you all, but the intensity was completely new. He lacked all the affection that normally followed.

Your eyes turned to the boy who hadn’t spoken yet, he lacked the cocky smile that the Nishimura boy was sporting but he held your gaze tightly and cocked his head to the side.

“We can’t ask how your night was?” Nishimura was speaking again but you kept your gaze on the other boy, a silent staring contest. “Or who your new friend is?”

At the mention of you, you broke your gaze on the other boy and looked towards the one speaking. He was watching you with amusement and slight curiosity but there was something else behind the surface emotions and you once again heard your mothers voice.

This boy was absolutely no good.

“It’s none of your business.” You barely registered that you had spoken, the anger in your voice unfamiliar even to you but you had judged his character and your mind was made up. You felt Jake’s hand squeeze your arm but you weren’t sure if it was in support or warning.

“She speaks.” You were slightly surprised when the other silent boy spoke, head whipping to look at him. He was leaning on his side against the car near him and keeping his stare on you still.

“What are you guys doing?” A third unfamiliar voice was chiming in now and you were reminded of the first day you had met the boys next to you, although the vibe of the situations were complete opposite’s.

Nishimura turned his head to look behind him but the other boy kept his eyes on your frame, causing you to shuffle in discomfort. He seemed to know who was approaching without looking.

“Just catching up with some old friends.” Nishimura kissed his teeth and shook his head like he was disappointed in the outcome of the situation. “Shame they’re not up for conversation.”

When the third unknown boy finally caught up to you, the light from the stadium bouncing off the water to highlight his face, you were taken back slightly to see the boy you had bumped into earlier.

He seemed just as surprised, quickly masking it however. He slowed his pace as he stood in between the other two boys, analyzing the situation that was unfolding.

“Niki.” He was speaking, his voice low and almost commanding. You watched as Nishimura (Niki rather) slowly lost his amused grin and glanced at the boy next to him, waiting for his next words. “Don’t cause unnecessary issues.”

A scoff caused your attention to go back to the boy leaning against the car and you heard Jungwon sigh from behind you, obviously familiar with said boys antics somehow.

“Whats the issue? Because they’re Jay’s friends we can’t talk to them?” You didn’t miss the way he spat your friends name, like it pissed him off just to say it and you frowned.

Weren’t they on the same football team? Why did they seem so upset at your friends, and you just by association.

“Is that what we’re doing?” Sunoo was laughing behind you but it was dry and humorless. “Yeah some of us are talking.”

The sarcasm seemed to upset the third boy more and he pushed off the car, taking a few steps in your direction but stopping once the boy from the bleachers held a hand out against his chest.

He turned towards his friend and glared, shoving his hand away from him but not taking another move to approach you.

From your left, a car alarm chirped and you jumped slightly, bumping into Jake who hadn’t let go of your arm yet. All of you, including the boys you didn’t know, looked towards the noise and you felt both relieved and scared to see Jay standing by the car with the keys in his hand.

You waited for a moment to see what would happen again. If the boys would make a slick comment, if Jay would explain what was happening or laugh and say it was some prank. Maybe a fight would even break out considering all the tension.

However, in true Jay fashion, he didn’t spare a glance at the three boys in the distance. He simply nodded his head towards your group and unlocked the car. “Let’s go.”

——

“Okay are you going to keep sighing or just ask me.”

You felt bad for disturbing Sunoo on his break but you couldn’t help your overflowing curiosity about the other night. After a silent and tense ride home, nobody had spoken about the situation.

When you showed up to movie night the next day you were expecting some sort of conversation or maybe even attitude between the boys but they carried on like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t almost had a twilight style battle in the parking lot.

“Will you tell me if I ask?” You turned your head slightly and fiddled with your straw in your empty coffee cup.

He shrugged and sucked in a tight sounding breath. “Depends what you ask I guess… it’s not all my business to tell.”

You nodded and contemplated for a moment. Despite your dying need to know and understand the dynamics of what had happened, you had no interest in prying or sticking your nose where it didn’t belong. Especially since 1/3 of the boys you’d encounter had 100% failed the ‘type of person’ test.

“Can you tell me who they were at least?” Your voice was soft and you watched him intensely. Your mouth turned down slightly and you shifted in your seat. “I don’t know… they seemed mad, should I be worried.”

“They’re harmless.” His words tumbled out quickly, almost like he hadn’t meant to even say it. He seemed surprised at himself for coming to their defense so easily. “We all use to be friends… kind of. The one by the car was Heeseung, then Niki, and then Sunghoon.”

You mouthed their names and nodded along to what he was saying, pausing and waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t you felt more confused than you did before.

“Why did you talk to Sunghoon like you didn’t know him then. On the bleachers.”

He looked embarrassed slightly and you were becoming desperate to understand, but you were realizing you weren’t getting all the answers anytime soon.

“I don’t know him. He moved here right around the time we…. We stopped being friends.” He seemed like he was going in another direction but caught himself mid sentence. You felt bad seeing the dark expression on his normally cherry face.

“Just know they won’t hurt you.” He assured and you felt better hearing the genuine tone in his voice, he placed a hand overtop yours and squeezed it softly. “They normally don’t even talk to us.”

You were furrowing your eyebrows at that, opening your mouth to ask him what was different about the other night then for them to break a silent agreement, but you were cut off by the sound of the doors chime and Jake’s loud laugh.

You and Sunoo turned your heads towards the door to see your three friends pushing through it, seemingly racing for who gets to the table first. You felt guilt rise up at the awkward air between you and Sunoo and quickly tried your best to smile at the incoming trio.

Jungwon and Jake didn’t seem to notice the tense situation, clobbering into seats and urging Sunoo to go back to work. However it only took a brief glance at Jay to confirm he knew what you were talking about.

He sat in the chair closest to you and you held back a frown as he placed his arm on the back of your seat.

“I saw you talking to Sunghoon.”

The cafe suddenly seemed to fall silent and your mouth dropped open, struggling to find any words at his sudden accusation. You heard a chair creak like somebody was shifting uncomfortably.

“Jay…” Jungwon was awkwardly starting, nervously attempting to defuse the conversation that hadn’t even begun yet.

“They were already talking about it.” Jay cut him off, not sparing him a glance and keeping his eyes on yours. You were reminded of the boy from last night, Heeseung. Except Jay’s eyes lacked all anger or upset.

You felt slightly reassured at the soft look on his face, but also hurt that he would put you on the spot infront of the others considering his unwillingness to talk about it beforehand.

“He sat next to me. It was totally random I think.” You finally offered and he seemed taken back by this information.

“I didn’t even see him man.” Jake was slowly saying, approaching the situation like it was a live bomb. You were starting to think it might be.

“You don’t think that’s weird?” Jay finally removed his gaze from you and you took a deep breath, happy he was facing away now. “Has he ever come to one of the games before… ever sat on the stands like he gave a fuck what was happening on the field.”

Jungwon was sighing and sitting back in his chair. Out of all of them, he seemed the least hostile about the situation. If anything you were thinking he was more torn about what to do or what to say.

You thought back on the way Heeseung had spat the boy across from you’s name. There was no room for misinterpretation, something had happened there and he was definitely not forgiving in the slightest.

It confused you further that they were talking about the boy in the stands. Sunghoon had seemed like he was slightly agitated at his friends for approaching you the way they did. Almost having an authoritative energy towards Niki and reeling him back.

Why did his presence seem to upset Jay the most…. He had seemed nice enough on the stands and that was when he was given a perfectly good reason to cause a scene.

“What are you implying.” Jungwon voiced one of the questions you had but his tone was bitter and he let out a dry laugh. “That he purposely sought her out just to get under your skin. How would he even know we’d be there with her.”

“Let’s maybe not talk about her like she’s not right here.” You hissed and leaned back in your chair. The dismissal of your rightful curiosity and talking around you was getting to you.

Jake was frowning fully now and leaned over to pat you on the knee, keeping his hand there when he noticed your leg shaking in irritation.

“I’m sorry.” Jungwon sighed and you nodded at him, signaling it was okay. “It’s a touchy topic.”

“Really I didn’t notice.” Your tone was sarcastic and he smiled slightly. “Can you just tell me if I’m in danger or something?”

Jake nearly laughed at that and Jungwon started to shake his head quickly.

“No way dude, they’re completely harmless.” Jake assured, using the same word Sunoo had earlier. You frowned and looked at Jay who didn’t confirm or deny.

“We mean it Y/N.” Jungwon urged. “The worst thing Heeseung probably would do is steal your hoodie or something.”

You felt more confused hearing them speak so casually about the same boys they were spitting venom at the other night. The look on Jay’s face was filling in the blanks for you on who the issue had been between.

There clearly had been a moment when sides were picked and a line was drawn between them all for whatever reason. You didn’t sense any anger between the others individually, maybe secondhand in defense of Jay.

You decided that for now, you’d leave it where it was.

——

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Your foot was stinging from where you had kicked the vending machine seconds prior, after it had successfully stolen three dollars from you.

You placed your bag down on the ground, wrapping both hands around the large machine and shaking it as you rocked your frame back and forth. It rattled and buzzed, but no can fell from inside the stupid machine.

“What a thief you are.” You gave the thing a large shove and lept back when it teetered back ominously in your direction.

“I think you pissed it off.” You truly jumped now at the sudden appearance of a real voice, for a moment thinking the machine was responding to your insults. You whipped around to see Sunghoon, leaning against the brick wall.

You scanned his figure quickly, taking note of a sports jersey underneath his large leather jacket. Confusion wracked through you but you quickly looked away from him and frowned.

“I don’t think I’m supposed to talk to you.” You mumbled, squatting down and attempting to peer inside the machine. You sighed and considered sticking your hand up inside of it to retrieve the can yourself.

“Don’t do that.” Sunghoon had seemingly read your mind, you heard his jacket rustle and scrape against the rough brick. “Aren’t allowed huh?”

You felt anger surge through you at the smug tone in his voice and shook your head, not standing or facing him. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“What I meant to say was that I don’t want to talk to a dickhead who upset my friends.”

He was silent behind you after your outburst and you felt fearful of his reaction for a moment, regretting not biting your tongue. Eventually he let out a hum of agreement.

“Which one are you dating by the way?” His question surprised you and you stood up quickly and turned to face him, a glare shooting from you.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You spat and tugged down your coat that had ridden up from your crouched position.

“I thought it was Jake for the way he practically turned into a feral dog in the parking lot protecting you.” As he kept talking you realized you had somehow managed to misjudge somebody’s character for potentially the first time ever. “But then I saw Sunoo holding your hand at the cafe.”

This threw you off guard. “You were spying on us?” You took a step away from him back towards the vending machine.

He watched you for a long beat of silence, an eyebrow raised like he was trying to see if you were serious. The word “harmless” was playing on a mantra in your head.

He sure didn’t look harmless, face slightly hidden behind the shadow of the machines. He was a lot bigger than you and his bleached hair made his eyebrows look ten times angrier than they possibly were. It didn’t help that he seemed slightly amused by your fearful demeanor.

“He works at the most popular cafe on campus.” He offered an explanation to you and you felt slightly dumb for not putting that together, but you were still on guard. “I just happened to pass by.”

You scoffed and bent down to pick up your stuff you had abandoned in your fight against the money stealing machine. “Well it’s none of your business, but I’m not dating any of them.”

His stoic demeanor seemed to falter for a split second before he stiffened his features again. You wondered why he seemed confused by that, if it was potentially rare for new friends to be brought into the existing group.

He took a few steps towards you and you locked up in fear, watching him intensely as he pushed off the brick wall. You kept your gaze tracked on him as he approached the vending machine, smacking it on it’s side.

You ignored the smile he shot your way as you heard the can thunk.

——

It was driving you a bit crazy, occupying your mind even when you were sat in class and meant to be listening to the important lecture your professor was giving.

You were blaming it on nothing but natural human curiosity. As far as you were concerned it had absolutely nothing to do with the way Sunghoon looked leaning against a brick wall or the fact you couldn’t get a read on him to save your life.

The mini version of your mom that tends to follow you around also seemed to be at a loss, offering you a shrug and half smile anytime you passed him on campus, which was an increasing amount you should mention.

At first you thought he might actually be spying on you like you had assumed a few days ago. He was turning up in classes you’d never seen him in before, he was sat lounging on tables in the square despite the cold bite to the weather, and he even had come into the cafe once or twice.

And that brought you to your current situation. You were sitting in your usual corner of the small building, but instead of your typical relaxed demeanor in your favorite place, your arms were crossed and your brows were furrowed.

Sunghoon was sat a few tables away from you, drinking from a straw and pretending like he didn’t feel your daggers in the side of his head. You didn’t miss the quirk of his lip every once in a while.

Even Sunoo placing a drink down infront of you didn’t break you from your one sided staring contest. He was invading your happiest place now and your patience for your new shadow was wearing thin.

A soft sigh from beside you made your frown deepen, you shifted your gaze up to Sunoo’s face as he watched you with exhaustion.

“Either talk to eachother or you’re both banned.”

Sunghoon seemed just as surprised as you at being directly addressed but he quickly masked it into an expression of indifference, the dip in your brows increased.

You didn’t say anything, looking down at your hands and fiddling with the coffee cups sleeve. Sunoo groaned but left you be, swiftly turning on his heel and going back to the other side of the shop.

A few moments of silence passed before your head the metal legs of the chair across from you squealing against the floor. You looked up through your eyelashes to watch Sunghoon swing his leg over the chair and sit widespread onto it.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You hiss out, your leg starting to bounce in irritation and anxiety. He didn’t seem bothered by your tone, only lifting his shoulders in a loose shrug.

More silence passed between the two of you and you felt thrown off at the fact he hadn’t tried to start a conversation or make a smart remark back to you. Despite your threat of silence, you felt antsy at the lack of talking.

“Why are you following me?”

He let out a laugh before the final syllable even fell from your lips and quirked in an eyebrow in your direction, annoyingly calm and smug. “Why would I be following you?”

“You’re in my lectures.” You rushed out, not deterred by his fake casualness. “And why are you even here right now.”

He lifted his half empty coffee cup, shaking it around as a way to signal his reason for coming. “I’m in your class, not my choice.”

You were shaking your head now, leaning forward so your elbows rested against the cold table. He studied your expression as you got closer, not moving from his relaxed way of sitting.

“What’s the name of the teacher?”

Your lips curled into a smirk as he lost his facade again, this time it was prolonged and unmistakable. His eyes widened and his mouth formed an ‘O’, clearly not expecting you to question something that seemed simple enough.

You waited for him to get ahold of himself, snap back into his usual character and quirk back at you for noticing his presence in the first place. Instead he remained silent, watching you intensely with a weird expression.

He took one long final drink of his coffee and then stood up, leaving you in the shop with his empty cup.

——

It’d been a week since your strange encounter with Sunghoon, which meant it had also been a week since you’d seen the boy at all.

A large part of you felt extremely guilty, plagued with the thought that your questioning had caused him to disappear again, missing classes that he WAS apparently in. (You checked the attendance sheet.)

You were sat alone in the square, criss cross on a seat at one of the tables and laying your head down on your arms. You felt tired and the thought of hanging with your friends sounded draining for some reason.

The cold fall air was helping you stay grounded and you took low and deep breaths, enjoying the silence.

“Waiting for somebody?”

The universe must hate you. You froze mid breath and squeezed your eyes shut, willing all patience left inside you to come to the surface and help you appropriately deal with this situation. It would need a great amount of delicacy, considering the devil himself had spoken.

You opened your eyes slowly and titled your head to lock your gaze with a familiar pair, although the scenario you were in now was completely foreign.

Heeseung was sitting across from you, leaning forward on his elbows and watching your reaction to his presence. Unlike Sunghoon, your annoyance didn’t seem to amuse him. If anything, he seemed angry at you.

“Who would I be waiting for?“ You challenged causally back to him despite knowing exactly what he was implying.

You watched him closely, his jaw ticking as he tongued at his cheek in anger. You weren’t quite sure why he was talking to you and even less sure where this was heading.

“He told me to tell you he’d be back soon.” Frustration was coating his words as he recited them like he was being held at gunpoint. “He had shit to take care of.”

Shoulders lifting in a shrug, you uncrossed your legs and planted your feet firmly on the ground. “Why would I care?”

He gave you a look that implied he thought you were stupid but you were genuinely baffled that Sunghoon would think to tell you about his whereabouts. Did he somehow know you were overthinking his absence or was he just making sure he wasn’t leaving your mind despite being out of sight.

You and Heeseung fell into a weirdly comfortable silence, you continued to take your deep breaths and he was finally not staring you down, opting instead to look around at the changing leaves.

“Why do you not like me?” You cursed yourself and the lack of impulse control you possessed for interrupting the brief moment of peace, but he didn’t seem too angered.

“Do I seem like I like people much?” He wasn’t teasing or being accusatory, a genuine question in his guarded voice.

Shrugging softly you picked at your sleeves loose thread. “Sunoo said you’re harmless.”

He frozen slightly as the boys name fell from your lips, watching you with a curious expression. “What else did he say?”

“Jungwon implied you’re a hoodie thief.” You tried to keep your voice steady and nonchalant but when he let a small scoff escape him, your lips quirked in a half smile.

He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, you wondered if he was lost in nostalgia and thinking back on whatever memories he had made with your friends or if he just wasn’t sure how to respond to your banter.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” He finally spoke again and you raised an eyebrow at him. “The other night, I mean.”

“I was more worried about your little side kick.” You tried to keep your tone light and jokey but he seemed to somehow sense the truth behind your words, guilt flashing over his features.

“He’s a good kid.” His voice was soft but urgent like he wanted you to believe what he was saying. “He took what happened really hard, he wasn’t like that at all before.”

For a second you considered playing along, baiting Heeseung into telling you details of the story that he seemed to think you already knew. This could potentially be your only chance at finding out what had occurred between the boys.

“It’s none of my business what happened.” You said instead, shaking your head and leaning on your elbows in similar fashion to him. “Is it really just something set in stone though?”

He sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. For a moment you remembered back to when you’d first met him, to the way he swatted Sunghoon’s hand off his chest.

He didn’t seem to hold the same respect for the other boy that Niki did, if anything, some of the anger in his gaze seemed directed at Sunghoon too, not just Jay. You were curious why he ended up on the side he did.

“I’ll get back to you on that.“

——

Considering how the last time you’d been in this scenery ended , you weren’t feeling the slight bit optimistic about how the night was going to play out.

You were squished in between Jake and Jungwon, a coat and scarf doing it’s best to warm you up although proving no match to the bitter cold night air. It was an understatement to say you were questioning the reasoning behind the months football was active.

Jay had actually requested you don’t attend this game, groaning and shaking off Jake as he hugged the former and plead for permission to come.

And here you were, shaking and already starting to sniffle, but you couldn’t help the adrenaline that pumped through you at the sound of the buzzing crowd and loud speakers.

The stands almost seemed blood thirsty, you felt anticipation and worry at the eerie undertone of their chants and yells. You decided you were just being paranoid, the game hadn’t even started yet.

When Jay ran out onto the field, recognizable to you despite being in a line of other boys in similar gear, you wasted no time, following Jake’s lead instinctively this time.

Your friend didn’t look in your direction but you watched him shake his head, a smile on his face beneath the slight embarrassment. You laughed as Jake flew back dramatically in his seat, yelling about his idol noticing him.

The crowd was vibrating as the game started, conversations flowing and passing by in a blur. Your cheers melted into your shrieks of laughter when Sunoo threw water in your direction, melting into groans of disappointment at a bad play for your team.

You felt drunk on social activity and everybody around you seemed just as amped up, worries about the high tension snapping escaped you and you finally leaned into the fan culture of the game.

And then a player, sporting colors unfamiliar to you, turned his shoulder completely and rammed into Jay’s chest.

The crowd took one collective breath, and then fell into complete silence. There was no mistaking the move as unintentional, the opposite player had completely changed his course of action and purposely struck your friend.

Jay was active and of course stronger than the average boy you knew, but his frame was still lean and more made for running long and fast rather than taking full frontal blows.

It seemed like hours passed in the seconds it took for him to hit the ground, shooting backwards a good few feet before smacking onto his back against the wet grass.

Before you even gave it a second thought, you were standing. Suddenly the cold and sticky air was nonexistent and you briefly registered the sounds of your friends stampeding behind you, down the bleachers and onto the asphalt.

You were stopped by the fence separating viewers and the field but now that you were closer, you could see firsthand the way Jay took staggered breaths and clutched where his chest would be beneath the gear.

It was a mess of refs and the standby emts, the coaches shouting at each other and pointing fingers close enough to touch the others face. You frantically looked around in an attempt to access the disorienting situation, looking for the guy who had hit Jay.

However, someone else had found him before you did.

The second you locked your eyes on the guys squared frame, he was hitting the ground with a shout and the crowd once again hit the play button on their screams and cheers.

This time their cheers were directed towards the boy who had tackled your school’s opponent, straddling his chest and shaking him aggressively. You watched in horror and shock as he ripped off the guys helmet and threw it carelessly away.

You barely registered a hand gripping your shoulder as you watched the boy on tops arm pull fully back before slamming forward into the others face, over and over again he put his full weight and muscle into assaulting his target.

Your body shook from the force of the hand on your shoulder and you glanced over to see Jungwon, his eyes wide in fear and shock. His gaze was also locked on the scene despite his attempt to get your attention away from it.

Before you could even begin to wonder why he seemed so fearful, a second player from your team was sprinting towards the fight and throwing off his helmet.

“No, no.” His voice was booming and desperate and you watched as Heeseung wrapped his arms under the boys armpits and attempted to rip him off of the other schools player, who had stopped moving at some point.

Heeseung was thrashing his body against the force of the others attempts to throw him off and when he finally managed to toss the boy backwards, you caught sight of who it was.

Niki was panting intensely, entire body shaking as he took a few steps back and forth, almost like a wild animal backed into a corner. His knuckles were bloodied and you weren’t sure if it was his or the other guys blood.

Heeseung was saying something to him that you couldn’t make out, freezing up when Niki’s glare turned towards you and the boys around you. The older boys hands were raised in an attempt to soothe his rage but Niki glared at him, sparing one last look towards Jay on the ground before storming off the field.

——

You’d practically gone numb from the cold by now, your thighs had lost feeling about an hour ago and the shaking of your hands felt natural.

You were sat on a lone bench outside of the schools medical office, only a few stragglers from the game remained and a couple of staff who were cleaning up spilled popcorn and discarded cups.

Jay had been rushed off the field and into the small building just a bit in the distance. It’s main use was for sports injuries apparently, you hadn’t even noticed it before tonight.

Luckily, the boy who had struck Jay wasn’t inside with him. He had been loaded up onto a gurney and rushed somewhere past the field where you presumed, more intense medical help awaited.

The scene was replaying in your mind on a loop and your stomach was tight with nausea at seeing such an intense display of violence.

Not to mention the glare that Niki had sent in your direction, almost like he faulted you for being the reason he had to hurt the boy. You weren’t sure if that was true because you didn’t understand the reasoning yourself.

You didn’t understand why the other player had struck Jay, if some game typical shit talk got out of hand or if they had a history. It only confused you further that Niki had been the one to come to your friends defense, possibly ending up in a lot of trouble.

No one chased after him when he stormed off and you weren’t sure if punishment would come later for him or if this was something both sides wanted to get ahead of.

Heeseung had looked around in a panic, eyes flickering to the stands like he was expecting to see somebody up there who could help, and then landing on where you stood by the fence. The desperation and upset in his eyes made you feel for him but they had quickly hardened and then he was off, similarly to his younger friend.

“You waited?” The sudden voice coming from infront of you caused you to jump in your seat and you trailed your gaze up to see a tired looking Jay standing and looking down at you.

His shoulders were low and you didn’t fail to notice the puffiness around his eye, or the slight shutters he took as he breathed in and out.

“Of course I waited.” You kept your voice calm and cautious, not sure if he was happy to see you or frustrated at the company. “Everybody did, but Sunoo made the others go home so they didn’t overwhelm you.”

He nodded along with you as you talked, an arm going up to push his hair back out of his forehead. It was a wasted effort considering his bangs fell back down on his face. He was staying close to where you sat, only a tilt away from your knees touching his shins.

“Are you okay?” You whispered when he didn’t reply to your rambles, you leaned your upper body forward slightly to try to look him in the eye. He nodded again, looking behind him out onto the field.

“Did you see where he went?” His voice was firm and you quickly understood that his vague question was referring to Niki and not the boy who had rammed into him.

You were standing now, slightly embarrassed by how close it put the two of you, nearly toe to toe. His breath was visible from the cold night air and you were worried if he turned his head back to look at you, your noses would touch. Despite your awkwardness, you reached down to grab his sleeve.

“Heeseung went with him.” You offered, instinctively giving him reassurance regarding the boy.

The unanswered questions you had still weren’t necessary for you to be able to tell that, at some point, Jay had cared deeply about the estranged boys. And clearly the feeling had been mutual.

Niki hadn’t hesitated in throwing his all into protecting Jay, risking everything in a moments notice. Whilst you were scared and slightly judgmental of the exact way he had handled it, you admired his loyalty.

Jay’s head turned back towards you and he looked down at where your red fingers were clutching his sleeve. You took a step back from him, still standing a little closer than you were used to, and he cleared his throat.

Before he could open his mouth to speak, somebody else was beating him to it and causing both of your heads to spin in it’s direction. This time you took a few steps away from Jay, completely giving yourself distance.

Sunghoon was standing slightly near the medical building and watching the two of you with a raised eyebrow. The sight of him after radio silence was intimidating enough and it didn’t help that he was stood with crossed arms and dark eyes. “Interrupting?”

Your eyebrows turned down in confusion before glancing towards your friend and piecing together what he was implying. You glared back at Sunghoon, not faltering when he held your gaze with his own annoyed one.

If you weren’t mistaken, he almost mirrored the expression of betrayal.

He quickly neutralized it however and uncrossed his arms, looking over towards Jay who had his shoulders squared now, awaiting whatever quick remarked was going to come his way.

“Are we going to go and find him, or what?”

—

The car had been quiet for the entirety of the ride so far, you were barely breathing to avoid adding any noise to the delicate air.

When Sunghoon had spoke back at the field you had expected Jay to dismiss him, to question why on earth he’d go with him anywhere. But he was always surprising you, only giving a firm nod and sending you a look that implied he wanted you to come with.

You were wondering if your sole purpose was to sit in the passenger seat of Sunghoon’s car so Jay didn’t have to. It was starting to feel like the worlds worst Uber and your head was hurting from the tension.

Still, it didn’t seem right to speak. As much as you wanted to ask Sunghoon about where he had been or ask Jay if he knew where you were heading right now, you figured you’d get answers shortly regardless.

Eventually you were pulling into a long driveway somewhere outside the city. When Sunghoon put the car into park, still no one spoke. Your body rocked with the car shifting and you leaned forward against your seatbelt to try and gauge your surroundings.

It was nearing 3am now and you were worried the bright lights pulsing into the windows would disturb the house owners, whoever they could be. Your worries were quickly silenced when a face appeared in the window, pulling back the half open curtain to glare outside in the cars direction.

It only surprised you slightly when you realized it was Heeseung, his eyes hardening when he saw Sunghoon’s car but his shoulders relaxed at the familiarity. Once again you questioned the tone of their friendship.

You felt eyes on the side of your head and slowly turned to look at Sunghoon who was watching you with a guarded expression. He raised an eyebrow and for once he seemed to lack his normal mocking look, a genuine question on his face.

Giving him a nod, you unbuckled your seatbelt and only faintly heard Jay do the same in the seats behind you. You waited until both of them were outside, doors shut, before following quickly on their heels.

Heeseung only looked taken back by Jay’s being there for a second and then he offered him a sharp nod and looked away. His gaze landed on you, standing hesitantly in the door way, and his tense glare softened slightly in confusion.

It was beginning to make you feel sick that nobody had spoke, the silence making your skin tingle and your head spin.

“Are you okay?” Your own voice surprised you, not even realizing you were starting to speak when you did, and by the way Sunghoon whipped around to look at you, you weren’t the only one.

The question was directed towards Heeseung, who was watching you intensely. His eyes were shooting down to your shaking hands and you hoped they weren’t still red from the cold. Although Heeseung had been the least physically impacted, you couldn’t shake the desperate look in his eye as he ripped Niki from the body.

“Are you?” You nearly bumped into Jay at the sudden appearance of the formerly mentioned boy and you clutched onto his arm instinctively.

Niki was rounding the corner, peering down at you from the kitchens doorway and you held his gaze for a moment before looking down at his hands and then back to him. He seemed upset at your fearful reaction to his voice and then a wave of understanding passed by and he offered you a small nod.

You felt bad for not answering him verbally but your gaze once again fell to his hands, eyeing the bloodied wrap around his knuckles. They were puffy and swollen and panic passed through you that he might need to go to the hospital.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He seemed to read your mind and your eyes snapped back up to his. He was being uncharacteristically neutral but you had to imagine the nights events had drained the fight out of him. “You should see the other guy.”

The silence broke at his poorly timed joke. Heeseung let out a humorless scoff and walked off into the living room, aggressively flopping back against the couch chair. Sunghoon laughed for only a second before shaking his head and sighing.

Jay’s immediately took a step towards the boy and tilted his head, a dangerous anger radiating off him. “You think this is fucking funny Riki?“

The younger boy seemed to deflate for a moment, once again giving you a glimpse of that natural obedience he had shown Sunghoon in the parking lot. He quickly recalled who was speaking to him and his gaze turned into a glare, also taking a step forward.

“They could expel you.” Jay was spitting, close to the boys face. Your eyes shot over to Sunghoon who was watching the situation closely with crossed arms. “What if they charged you with assault?”

“He hit you first.” Niki was shaking his head in anger, seemingly genuinely distraught by Jay’s anger. You wondered if his loyalty made him so blind that he thought he was immune to consequences.

“It was too far.” Sunghoon was speaking now but his tone was far gentler than Jay’s. You started to feel bad for Niki considering the way all three of you were standing on one side and going against him. “You took it too far.”

Niki pushed off the wall he was near and paced a few feet in a circle around the living room area. You followed his figure with tightly locked eyes, not yet being able to predict the outcome of this talk.

“He was on the ground.” He turned back towards the three of you, frantically trying to justify what he did. The disappointment from the older boys seemed to hurt him deeply. “You didn’t even look like you were moving.”

The last sentence was directed towards Jay solely and you watched as his back deflated, locking eyes with the panicked boy infront of him. He took a few steps towards Niki at the same time Sunghoon took a large one back, closer to you.

You looked up at him in confusion to find him already staring down at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Your eyes floated back towards Jay and Niki but you were distracted again when you felt a hand trailing down your arm and eventually locking onto yours. This time you really kept your gaze on Sunghoon.

He started to drag you away from the scene despite your tug for release, it was no use and you couldn’t fight against your feet that started to follow him out of the room and down a hallway. For a moment you were confused where he was heading, watching as he opened the door furtherest away from the living room.

He stood in the doorway, waiting for you to enter the room first and you glared at him as you did, taking in the area. The door closed behind you and you turned your head to make sure he hadn’t locked you in alone.

Sunghoon was standing against the closed door, feet away from you and looking down at you with clouded amusement. Despite the tense and emotional night, he still seemed to find humor in your reactions.

“Why are we in here?” Your tone was low and annoyed, just above a whisper like you were worried about disturbing the moment down the hall.

“If you don’t already know what happened,” He started, titling his head while he looked from your feet back to your eyes. “This isn’t how he’d want you finding out.”

It aggravated you that his reasoning was so simple and so logical, and that he seemingly read your mind again about your knowledge on the situation. Also confusing you further that he’d protect Jay and offer him such privacy.

“Is he safe?” Your voice was shaking slightly and you felt embarrassed to show such vulnerability. You were simply exhausted both mentally from the laps it took to understand the smallest thing and from the late hours this night was bleeding into.

Sunghoon hardened and took a step towards you. You didn’t feel scared of him or his reaction towards you, letting him approach you and place a hand on your shoulder. He turned your body slowly and led you towards the bed in the room, letting you sit down.

“Niki would never hurt Jay.” He said firmly, assuring you as you sat and took a deep inhale. He stayed standing, looking down at you. His serious expression was overtaken by a look of amusement as he started to laugh.

You looked up at him with a deep frown, playing anxiously with your fingers and waiting for him to explain what he found so funny in this serious situation.

“It’s weird seeing you in my room.” He offered and looked behind you like he was accessing the picture. Your eyebrows shot up in confusion.

“You live here?” You weren’t sure why you had figured this was Heeseung’s house just because he seemed comfortable and had answered the door. “I thought this… that Heeseung did.”

“He does.” He explained and your confusion grew further. Why would they both live so far away from campus and considering how hostile all their interactions seemed, why would they be living together.

“Can I be honest?“ He raised an eyebrow at your tone and sat next to you on the bed, keeping a good distance between the two of you. “I thought he didn’t really like you.”

He let out a bark of a laugh which caught you off guard, never hearing such a genuine noise come from the boy.

“Heeseung doesn’t really like anybody.” He offered, shrugging and looking at you with a half smile. You thought back to the conversation you had with Heeseung in the square, the way he seemed filled with childlike curiosity regarding what Jungwon and Sunoo said about him.

“I know it’s not my business,” You started slowly, not quite sure how to word what you wanted to get across to him.

“It’s driving you crazy, isn’t it?” He filled in the blanks for you and you glanced over at him with a half smile, you imagined your eyes were heavy and tired as you nodded.

He looked especially handsome right now, you couldn’t help but note. You were so used to seeing him in passing, normally adorning a cocky grin or a tight demeanor. Yet he looked the best now, here in his own room, casually sitting on his bed with tired eyes.

Neither of you spoke as you studied his features and expression, him doing the same towards you. You were wondering what he was thinking and if he was coming to any sort of conclusions about you when a knock sounded on the door. It opened before Sunghoon had a chance to invite them in.

You watched as Jay’s head peered around the door and your cheeks flushed at the surprised look on his face upon seeing you and Sunghoon sitting near each other on his bed. Standing up swiftly, you played with your fingers in front of you and awkwardly watched your friend.

“I called Sunoo to come and take you home.” He explained his reasoning for coming to fetch you and you furrowed your brows slightly. You felt a weird heaviness settle in your stomach at the thought of leaving him here.

He seemed to sense your apprehension and took a step into the room. “Everything’s fine.” He offered but you weren’t sure if ‘fine’ meant for this specific situation or if they had patched things up in general. You doubted it was the latter considering how deep it seemed to run.

You glanced back at Sunghoon to find him uncharacteristically looking down at his lap, avoiding your gaze or maybe avoiding Jay. You thought about taking a step back towards him but opted instead for muttering a soft goodbye and following Jay out his door.

Jay’s hand fell onto your back as he guided you down the long hallway comfortably, obviously familiar with your current environment. When you passed back into the living you were surprised to see the other two boys still there.

Niki perked up when he saw you, looking like he had something planned to say to you, but he didn’t get a chance when sharp knocks echoed throughout the house.

Jay took a step forward to open the door, and you felt a wave of relief and comfort upon it revealing Sunoo. He looks mildly irritated and his hair was messy like he’d just left his apartment in a hurry but seeing him was enough to calm you down.

“We have an issue.” He sighed and whilst his tone lacked any real seriousness you still felt nervous at the thought of more conflict arising tonight. You quickly pieced together what he was saying however when you heard Jake’s loud yell from outside.

You stretched on your feet to look around Sunoo’s frame and smiled softly when you saw Jungwon and Jake clambering out of the car and quickly making their way over to the house.

They also seemed completely familiar with it, making their way down the path and up to the porch despite the darkness of the night concealing the steps. You glanced behind you into the living room to see Heeseung perking up at the loud voices.

He was still sitting but now his hands were tightly gripped on the arms of the furniture, sitting straight up and rigid. He was forcing down an intense swallow and you looked back at Sunoo and tilted your head.

Your pink hair friend simply sighed before taking a reluctant step into the house, successfully avoiding Jake by only a second before he barreled through the door. He had tripped over the mat that was sat outside the door and Jungwon was standing behind him, watching with an amused expression.

Sunoo, however, didn’t look pleased at all by the situation. If anything you’d think he was being forced at gun point to be inside of the house. You felt guilty at the exhausted look on all of their faces.

“They insisted.” He started to offer a casual explanation and you had no doubt in what he was saying. You briefly noted the sound of Sunghoon’s door closing as he approached the now crowded room.

Jake was pushing past you to smack into Jay, wrapping him in a tight hug and lifting him off the ground for a second before seemingly remembering the events that caused your current situation. “Oh my god, oh my god.”

You stumbled from his push, catching your footing to watch him repeat the familiar lines and check Jay for any sign of discomfort or pain. Jungwon approached from behind now and swiftly smacked the back of Jake’s head for his mistake.

A throat cleared from behind you, directly behind you, and you looked over your shoulder to meet the sight of Sunghoon’s chest. You must’ve stumbled in his direction in your haste away from tornado Jake. He was watching the trio from over your shoulder.

The creaking of the weight changing on the couch caught all of your attentions and seven pairs of eyes turned to look in Niki’s direction as he stood. The air was heavy and silent and you waited to see what he was going to say.

“Dude.” Jake’s voice from behind you was ringing out instead but you kept your eyes on Niki who looked surprised at being addressed so directly. “If I knew you could hit like that I would’ve stopped calling you short like 2 years ago.”

The silence rang out again as the joke landed, you winced slightly, not sure it would be reciprocated well.

However, loud laughter sounded from behind you and now you finally turned around, eyes wide as you watched Jay bend over slightly and squeeze his eyes shut as he laughed at Jake’s words.

You were baffled, wondering what conversation could’ve possibly happened in the few minutes you were gone that could drastically change his mood towards the situation.

Clearly you weren’t the only one judging by the way Heeseung was shooting up off the chair he was sat on and pushing past all of you, swiftly making his way out the front door and into the cold night without a word. You frowned deeply and watched as he went, not quite sure he’d want somebody following him.

A hand was pushing against your back softly and you looked back at Sunghoon for clarification. He was watching you with a soft expression and gave you another nudge towards the direction Heeseung had went, signaling for you to follow the boy.

You looked towards Sunoo who had come to pick you up but upon seeing him in low voiced conversation with Niki, you figured they wouldn’t mind waiting here for a bit.

Sucking in a deep breath, you followed Heeseung out the door.

——

Apparently you didn’t take into account the length of Heeseung’s leg, or his haste to get far away from the situation, because by the time you’d gotten outside he was nowhere to be seen.

Still you had a general direction to follow and the further you walked along the dark foggy street, the clearer his final destination was to you. A park was coming up in the distance and you faintly could make out a figure sitting still on one of the swings.

You weren’t exactly sure how to approach him, but eventually you took a deep breath and decided to just offer him silent company. If he found it in himself to want to talk, you’d be an open ear.

He didn’t say anything when you approached, and still when you sat in the swing next to him and rocked just a bit so you could sway.

You both sat and listened to the sounds of the chain creaking.

“I had a sister.” Eventually he spoke and you slowed you swing to a stop, looking over towards him and watching the side of his face as he talked. “Same age as me. As us, I guess.”

The tense in which he talked about his sister didn’t pass by you and your stomach felt heavy at the countless scenarios that could’ve happened. You took a baited breath and waited for him to continue.

“Growing up I never really liked having her around much I guess.“ His voice was deep and sad but there was a small amused smile on his face. “She was loud and talkative and I was worried my friends would like her better than me or something stupid like that.”

“Jay did I think.” You furrowed your brows as he talked and he spared a quick glance at you before starting to talk again. “Sophomore year he came to me and told me he was inlove with her. He’d said he didn’t know how it happened and he was sorry, but he was and he didn’t know what to do about it.”

It hadn’t dawned on you to ask any of the boys how long they’d known each other and you were slightly taken back by the fact Jay and Heeseung had so much history. Then you were further in your confusion at his second revelation.

“I was pissed, I mean who wouldn’t be right.” His voice was tighter now but he was shrugging to himself, like he was still trying to convince himself he did the right thing. “So I told her what he’d say. I just wanted her opinion on it, you know? Then she tells me she was in love with Sunghoon.”

Your heart fell deep in your stomach and you looked away from Heeseung once his face twisted in a grimace. Things were starting to make sense to you, atleast why Jay and Sunghoon didn’t get along but you felt like it was something deeper than just liking the same girl.

“We went off to college, Sunghoon didn’t go here with us at first. I guess he still couldn’t bring himself to face Jay even though it wasn’t really his fault. We still hung out sometimes, with Niki.”

It suddenly made sense why Sunoo and the other boys didn’t seem as familiar with Sunghoon as everybody else.

Without thinking you reached out a hand towards where Heeseung sat on his swing and watched as his eyes shot down to it and then back up to your face. He offered a sad tired smile but eventually took your hand in his and squeezed it as he continued.

“One night,” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Sunghoon comes banging on my door, Jay answers it and they both just look at eachother. Hoon is breathing all hard and can’t seem to get a word out and now I’m standing and we’re both trying to calm him down and it was just a mess.”

“He tells me….. well he says.. that he’d just seen my sister and she had told him that she was still inlove with him and had practically begged him to accept her after all these years.” He was pushing the story out now and you used your free hand to wipe your wet cheeks.

“And he didn’t.” He says it softly and drops his shoulders. You aren’t quite sure what the meaning of his words are but he delivers them like it’s the answer to all your questions. “And she couldn’t handle that I guess.”

You both fell silent for a few minutes and you squeezed his hand tightly so he would look in your direction. When you locked eyes with him you felt sick at the despair and guilt he seemed to hold.

“Heeseung.” You started and he squeezed his eyes shut tight like you’d hurt him. “That wasn’t your fault.”

He shook his head again and scoffed, taking his hand from yours and looking to his left out into the dark.

“Wasn’t it? Maybe if I let her hang out more, or given Jay the chance to confess without being so angry and protective, she could’ve fallen for him too.”

“She loved Sunghoon.” You spoke softly, not quite sure you were allowed to give your opinion on such a delicate subject.

He looked back at you and held your gaze. Eventually he gave you one single nod and chewed on his lip, eyes heavy and wet.

When he stood from his swing and pulled you up into a hug, you final took a deep breath and wrapped tightly around him. Neither of you spoke once you broke apart and started the walk back to the house but your mind was racing.

It was suddenly making sense to you for the most part. Why Sunghoon and Jay both seemed torn and betrayed at you being with either, the look Niki had given you almost like you’d brought up past emotions, even the fact all boys seemed shocked at your appearance in the friend group . It still confused you why Heeseung had chosen Sunghoon over Jay but you figured you could ask him at another time.

You looked over at Heeseung when you rounded the street back towards his house and you were remembering his unsupported anger towards you when you first met.

Maybe you had reminded him of his sister, down to the similarities of age and your friend circle. You no longer felt angry at him for the way he scared you or tried to intimidate you.

——

Days were passing by quickly after that long cold night and you were focusing back in on your studies and daily life. It was getting colder and colder each day and you felt the world around you preparing to slow down for the winter.

You’d still been seeing the boys on occasion, even meeting in new pairs and groups with familiar faces in different settings. It was interesting to watch things settle back into an old rhythm you hadn’t been around to witness the first time.

Niki and Jungwon arguing over video games and who’s turn is when, Heeseung sitting at the counter while Sunoo completes orders and sometimes Jay would be with him too although they’d keep one seat empty between them.

It was an early morning now and you were sat watching one of the boys final practices before the football season ended. You weren’t sure when it was added to your routine or when you started to find comfort in it but watching them play off of each other was something you enjoyed a lot lately.

Today you were accompanied by Jake who was uncharacteristically silent as he watched them throw the ball back and forth.

You were studying the side of his face for a bit, watching the way he chewed on his lip and fidgeted slightly in his seat. He seemed to be locked in thought and far away.

He must’ve felt your gaze on him because he nervously glanced at you and then away again, scratching his neck when you didn’t look away at first. “Sorry.” He murmured and you cocked your head.

“I’m just thinking about how weird it is we all are friends again.” He shrugged and you sighed softly.

“A good weird though, right?” He nodded in confirmation at your words but he still looked a bit saddened. You figured he must be worried it wouldn’t last long, another problem arising and hurting everybody for the second time.

You scooted closer to him on the bleachers and wrapped your arms around one of his, hugging it towards you and sitting flush against his side. “Don’t think about it too much. It’s good right now and that’s what matters.”

He glanced down at you glued to his side and offered a half smile, not quite reaching his eyes like it normally did. But you were slightly relieved to see him nod in understanding and pat your head with his free hand.

You both sat like that for a while, watching the practice continue on, until another person was stepping onto the bleachers and glancing up at you and Jake, clearly looking for you.

Peering down at Sunghoon you took a deep breath and you felt Jake laugh slightly against you at your obvious nerves. He squeezed your arm and gave you a slight nudge.

Reluctantly you stood from your spot and started to walk down the metal steps, meeting Sunghoon at the bottom of the stands and following him when he turned on his heel and headed towards the exit gate.

“I haven’t seen you much.” You were speaking to the back of his head, and it was true. You hadn’t seen him practically at all since everything happened, going back to only interacting in passings full of heavy stares and glances.

“I needed to figure some things out.” He turned to look at you and you studied his red nose and shifty eyes.

“Did you?”

He shrugged and looked at his foot that was twisting anxiously into the cement, his fidgeting was causing you to shift in your own place.

“Do you think I’m a monster.” He eventually asked with a curl of his lip and furrowed eyebrows, almost like he was afraid of your answer. Your features softened as you looked at him and shook your head. “You should.”

“Why would you say something like that?” You questioned and took a step towards him, a hand coming to rest on his arm. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He was looking down at you with a pained expression, glancing at your hand on him for just a moment before going back to your eyes. You hoped they showed how genuinely you meant what you were saying to him.

“Don’t disappear again.” You added earnestly, squeezing his arm to further prove your desperation. “I was just starting to not find you annoying.”

Thankfully your joke made him laugh, although it was a small chuckle you felt better at the slight smile on his face reappearing. Taking a deep breath, you decided to stomach your nerves and move towards him.

You pulled him into a tight hug, wrapping your arms around his middle and stuffing your face into his chest. It was silent for a few seconds as he froze up, but then you felt yourself similarly embraced by him.

“Is this a bad time to ask you to go to the final game with me.”

——

The final game had gone completely different than the previous ones and you felt like things were finally starting to settle down, both in real life and in your thoughts.

As you all sat decked out in school colors and merchandise, rocking into eachother and singing the team anthem and nearly filling up a whole row of bleachers with your friends, you could see your mom one last time. She was giving you a big thumbs up and those soft teary eyes she’d get whenever you made her proud.

The same eyes you had as you all ran down to the field upon a victory goal, pushing past the gates and tackling Jay, Niki and Heeseung in hugs and back pats that sent them flying in multiple directions with a smile on their flushed faces.

A smile that stayed on everyone’s face through Christmas, a day you all spent crammed in Sunoo’s living room as you watched Niki open gifts from the rest of you.

When you had heard that his family was in Japan and that’s why he was so close to the older boys, you and the others immediately called home and explained why you needed to stay behind for the holidays.

And the smiles stayed even when Sunghoon found you crying on New Years, outside on the fire escape with red cheeks from the cold and a sniffly nose.

“What happened?” He rushed out as he swung his leg through the open window and joined you outside on the icy metal. “You disappeared.”

The more time you spent with your friends, the more you saw the boy infront of you as far more than that. You’d gone out dozens of times, just the two of you, but it hadn’t advanced further than soft glances and touching hands on accident.

“I was so worried for the holidays.” You sobbed out, embarrassment escaping you due to the few drinks you’d had at the New Years gathering. Vaguely you could hear Jake announcing the minutes left. “I wasn’t sure what to do after my mom passed.”

Sunghoon watched you with a gentle gaze but didn’t say anything. You hadn’t told them about your family much, always changing the subject or giving vague answers. Truthfully you had been dreading the cold air, knowing eventually the day would come where you wouldn’t get to fly home for Christmas.

You constantly were paying extra attention to the weather, feeling sadder every time your nose started to run or you needed to put on an extra layer.

Sunghoon crouched down next to you, falling back onto his butt and hissing at the feeling of the wet and cold steps. Still he pulled you closer to his side and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“I know we aren’t her.” He started and you looked at him, comforted by how close your faces were. “But you don’t need to go anywhere to be with family anymore.”

You didn’t need to ask him to clarify, knowing exactly what he meant when the cheers of the countdown started from inside. You glanced back through the window to see all your friends huddled together and starting to count.

Jungwon was looking around the room, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry and you realized he must be looking for you, not wanting you to miss the ball drop.

Sunghoon squeezed your shoulders and helped pull you up from the ground, steadying you as you stood and guiding you back inside through the window.

He kept close to you as you approached your friends and you smiled despite your grief and teary eyes when your friends cheered at the sight of you, swiftly pulling you into the huddle and jumping slightly together.

It was messy and loud, knees knocking and multiple near accidents but you laughed freely as you all hit one, a chorus of happy New Years and well wishes following.

You registered Sunghoon standing behind you, pushed flush against your back in his attempt to join the huddle and you spun around in your spot so you were back to facing him. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He laughed as he spoke at your sudden greeting, smiling down at you with fondness. “Happy new year.”

You nodded at him in agreement, watching his face for a moment. He raised an eyebrow as you studied his features and leaned towards you a bit almost instinctively.

“Yeah.. it will be.” Before he could ask you what you meant — and before you could lose the small amount of courage the look in his eyes gave you, you pulled him down to you and into a kiss. Sunghoon hesitates for a moment before kissing you back, and you smile against his lips as you feel his arms slowly make their way around your waist.

Pulling away after a couple moments, Sunghoon looks down at you, the fondness in his eyes replaced with a look of love. Hearing the whoops and hollers from the boys around you, your courage crumbles as you bury your face in his chest.

Laughter erupts through the group as Jake mutters “It's about time...” Pulling away slightly from your embrace with Sunghoon, you look at your friend group to see them all looking at you both with bright smiles, and you laugh as Jake playfully rolls his eyes.

"You're just jealous since you’re still single, Sim." Jay nudges Jake with his shoulder as more laughter erupts through the group. Sunghoon rests his head against yours, his arms still loosely wrapped around you as you watch the antics return, and you swear you can feel your mom pat you on the shoulder, her voice ringing out in your head with an “I’m so proud of you.”

[half-bakedboy]

everything stays unsaid

Buddie | 1.5k | general | 7x4 coda

After Tommy leaves his apartment, all Buck wants to do is talk to Eddie. He wants to apologize for making Eddie collateral damage to his stupid crisis. But he feels like he's broken some unspoken agreement between them or betrayed Eddie by feeling something other for Tommy. It doesn’t make sense because it’s Eddie, but he doesn’t feel like he can trust his gut feelings right now.

read the rest on ao3 or under the cut

After Tommy shuts the door gently behind him, all Buck wants to do is tell someone why he has been such an asshole.

But when Buck thinks about calling Eddie, the person he’s hurt most, he doesn���t know how he would even begin.

Hey, remember how I body-slammed you into the pavement and sprained your ankle? It’s apparently because I wanted Tommy to kiss me and I didn’t know that until he did. So sorry about that. I’ll bring you takeout next time we hang out.

No, of course he can't do that. He has to prepare for this conversation, right? He has to figure out what he’s feeling, put a label on it so it’s wrapped neatly in a bow when he finally tells his friends and his family.

He’s seen movies where nerves are haywire and difficult sit-down conversations lead to teary-eyed pride and general… emotions. He’s supposed to say the term and let a few seconds of silence worry him before the people he loves remind him they love him back, whether he’s into men or not.

“I’m—” he begins to say into his now empty apartment. He’s not sure what to follow it up with.

“Gay?” He tests. He thinks about how Abby’s soft voice made his skin simmer, how chasing Taylor had sent thrills up and down his spine, the instant connection he had with Nathalia. No, he doesn’t think he’s gay.

“Straight?” He tries. The thought of Tommy’s lips on his, the gentle power behind the fingers on his face, the scruff on their chins velcroing together. The heat that catapults straight to his stomach tells him he can never call himself that ever again.

He knows there are other words. Bisexual, pansexual, demisexual… But he doesn’t want to dwell any longer on what he might be, not when who he has been over the last few days has been so awful.

The last thing Tommy asked before he left was for Buck to call Eddie and that’s all Buck wants to do.

But he still isn’t exactly sure what to say.

I’m sorry I put you in the hospital. I’m sorry I’ve been such a possessive asshole. I’m sorry I put you in the middle of whatever my feelings were doing. I’m sorry you became collateral damage when all I’ve ever wanted was to make sure our relationship never changed no matter what.

Luckily—or unluckily, he’s not quite sure—his phone is ringing before he can talk himself out of finally reaching out. His entire body freezes when he sees Eddie’s name flash across his screen, but it relaxes almost instantly when his picture comes into view.

A few months ago, Christopher decided he was too old to be the background of his dad’s contact, especially now that he has his own phone. When Buck left his phone on the dining room table to clean up dishes, Christopher took it upon himself to snap some pictures of Buck and Eddie at the sink. They’re hip to hip, almost like one of them pushed the other in jest, and Eddie’s smiling over his shoulder like he’s caught Christopher in the act.

Usually, seeing the picture sends a warmth through him at the friendship he’s created and cultivated throughout the years. One of domesticity and care that almost no other relationship in his life can match.

Today, the picture ties his stomach in a knot—like he’s broken some unspoken agreement between them or betrayed Eddie by feeling something other for Tommy. It doesn’t make sense because it’s Eddie, but he doesn’t feel like he can trust his gut feelings right now.

He can’t really trust any part of himself, not until he clears the air with Eddie and figures out where the Hell things are going with Tommy.

Caught in his spiraling mind, Buck almost misses the call and answers abruptly with a choked-out, “H-Hey!”

“Hi, Buck.” Eddie’s words exhaled like he wasn’t convinced Buck was going to answer. “I’m sorry to call so late, but Tommy called—” Buck’s heart leaps into his throat before dropping into a pit in his stomach— “and said that he’d been there to see you and that he told you to call but he wasn’t sure if you’d actually do it. He said you guys talked and you seemed worried that he was replacing you in my life?” Buck didn’t have time to breathe, let alone speak before Eddie continues. “You have to know that’s not true, Buck. Tommy could never replace you. You have a permanent place in my life and you always will. Tommy can’t even begin to change that—”

“I kissed someone!” Buck blurts out.

Buck didn’t know what he was going to say to Eddie, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. Eddie is very aware of the fact that Buck has kissed people before.

There are a few moments of silence, and Buck can hear Eddie pull the phone away from his ear like he has to check the caller ID to make sure it’s Buck he’s called.

Eddie clears his throat before he asks, “Am I supposed to be surprised, or…?”

“I—” Buck inhales deeply and lets out a shaky breath. He figures diving headfirst into this is the best way to go. “It was a guy,” Buck says as steadily as he can. He doesn’t say Tommy’s name. He’s new to this whole sexuality thing but he’s pretty sure that outing someone is a big no.

There’s more silence. It’s not unusual, really. Eddie’s never been one to jump to words before thinking them through. That was typically Buck’s job. But that doesn’t make it any easier for Buck to wait it out.

There’s something about the pause that makes Buck’s insides feel like tinder just waiting for a spark to ignite him from the inside out.

“And how do you feel about that?” Eddie asks slowly.

“Surprisingly normal,” Buck answers.

“Congratulations?” Eddie sounds unsure, but honestly, Buck is pretty unsure of most everything himself so he can relate.

“I was going to wait to tell you, figure out what this thing between Tommy and I is but—” Fuck.

“Tommy? My Tommy?”

Buck ignores the way his heart stings at Eddie’s choice of words which makes no sense because all they’d done is kiss. He shouldn’t be so easily soured at the mere thought of someone else having Tommy. Unease settles somewhere between his heart and his stomach like his mind has decided he can’t unpack all his feelings in one night.

“Your Tommy?” Buck tastes the bitterness on his tongue like he’s got a mouthful of Eddie’s too-hoppy beer that refuses to settle in his stomach.

“I just meant—” Eddie cuts himself off as if he knows it’s too late for excuses. “I didn’t think you guys were that close.”

“We ended up real close,” Buck jokes, an attempt at pushing down the awkwardness in the conversation. He swears he hears Eddie inhale sharply like there’s something painful in the words. “I’m sorry, I just… I don’t know what to do with this feeling, and all I wanted to do was tell you.”

Buck doesn’t know what he expects. For Eddie to have the answers, for Eddie to know him better than he knows himself like he always does, for Eddie to tell him that he’s always known or that nothing is going to change.

Then Eddie says, “I’m glad you told me.”

The sentence holds more weight in Buck’s heart than it should. It’s everything Buck imagined and, I’m glad you trust me with this part of you and I’m here for whatever you need to do next, just like I always am.

So why does Buck still feel like it says so much more?

“I’m sorry I knocked you down and sprained your ankle because I was having some sort of crisis,” Buck tries again to make Eddie laugh and this time, it works.

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to injure me to get my atte—” Eddie trails off, and Buck’s heard this sentence before. He heard it right before Tommy’s lips connected with his.

Whose attention had Buck truly been trying to get?

Why is it so hard for him to answer that question when the answer should be so… obvious?

“Next time, can you knock me over on grass or into some water? It’d be a lot easier for you to forgive yourself if I could walk away if this crisis of yours keeps going.”

Eddie’s joking, and Buck laughs. Eddie’s joking, but there’s something else there. There’s something underneath Eddie’s words that feels like hope. It can’t be hope that Buck hurts him again or hope that Buck continues to plunge deeper into crisis. It’s like an acknowledgment that Buck is going to continue to hurt him, but he’s okay with it as long as Buck cushions the blow this time.

He doesn’t know what it all means, what unspoken conversation they're having that feels half-finished but barely begun. But he does know that if he’s going to figure anything out, it’s going to be later.

For now, he revels in the feeling of Eddie’s forgiveness and the excitement of whatever is to come.

[infiniteeight8]

Ironstrange identity reveal? I was reading Spy x Family when I thought of this, so that's the background/setting I was thinking of initially, but it can definitely be a superhero thing too. Or whatever other idea pops into your head. I'm always excited to see what you come up with!

I read the top of the wikipedia entry for Spy x Family, but that setup is not working for me here, so instead we’re going with some classic “Iron Man is Tony Stark’s bodyguard” shenanigans. 😀

Uh, this got… more than a little out of hand. This has many themes in common with other drabbles, but now it’s 1360 words long. Enjoy?

Under the read more for length.

-

Tony stares stubbornly at Steve, who is rubbing his eyes with the kind of exhausted exasperation that has become his hallmark around Iron Man.

“Iron Man, you were unconscious,” Steve says. “After being electrocuted. You need a real medical check.”

“The armor has medical sensors,” Tony insists. “It says I’m fine. I can answer questions for a neurological exam. That’ll have to be good enough.”

Steve gets that stubborn look on his face. The one that no one wins against. Fuck. “You’re benched until you get a real medical check.”

“How about if I get checked out in my civilian identity?” Tony suggests.

“We have no way of verifying that you’ve done that,” Steve says. “And while I hate to say you’d lie, I can’t dismiss the possibility after this conversation. I understand your hesitation about revealing your identity, but your life is at stake.”

“It’s really not,” Tony mutters. He’s fine. But he can tell that Steve isn’t going to budge on this, and he wants to be off the bench sooner rather than later. “Fine. Call Strange, then.”

Steve’s eyebrows go up. “Doctor Strange? He’s not a practicing physician.”

“He’s kept his certifications, though.”

“And he hates you.”

Stephen hates Iron Man. He’s quite fond of Tony Stark, though. They’re… friends. He’s asked Tony on half a dozen dates, which Tony has been forced to turn down because he refuses to lie about something as important as Iron Man to someone he’s dating. It’s made for a lonely couple of years. At least if he has to reveal his identity to someone, he might get a date out of it. If Stephen forgives him for lying. If he can get past Tony Stark being an Avenger in general (apparently they make a lot of work for the sorcerers; something about the barriers between dimensions) and Iron Man in specific, who he’s always hated the most. 

“Then you’ll know he’s being honest when he clears me,” is all Tony says aloud.

Steve still looks baffled, but he makes the call.

Tony’s expecting Stephen to be angry when he arrives. He may keep his medical certifications up to date, but he doesn’t work as a doctor and he’s sure as hell not on call for the Avengers. But when he arrives he’s crisply professional, if frosty. He’s even wearing a lab coat over street clothes. He locks the exam room door behind him, which would be odd except that he follows it up with, “Armor off.” Tony hesitates. Stephen’s expression tightens. “Captain Rogers indicated you were willing to be examined,” he says sharply.

“This is kind of a big deal,” Tony snaps. “There is literally no one living that knows who I am.”

Stephen blinks. “Surely Tony knows.”

Tony sighs. “Yeah. About that.” He issues the command, and the helmet retracts. 

Stephen stares. And stares. And there it is. There’s the anger. “You utter fucking idiot!” He shouts. “What the hell are you doing risking your life in that goddamned tin can?! Don’t you know what a catastrophic loss it would be if you died out there?”

Okay, Stephen is yelling, but it seems like… good yelling? “I’m saving people,” Tony argues.

“You save plenty of people as Tony Stark!” Thank God the soundproofing in this place is spectacular; Stephen doesn’t lower his voice one bit. “So why do you insist on ruining your own life with this, this,” he waves his hand inarticulately at the armor still covering Tony to the neck, “bullshit.”

Okay, that’s enough. “Iron Man is not ruining my life! It’s the best thing I’ve ever done!”

Stephen's expression shifts from furious to incredulous. “The best thing?” he demands. “The best thing? What about the 100 million dollar donation to spinal cord research? The Foundation that helps people rebuild after things like alien invasions when their insurance won’t? What about the shield you invented that makes it possible for people with sensitive implants to get an MRI safely, or the modular smartphone that doesn’t need to be replaced every two years? What about the scholarships you’ve endowed?”

“Stephen—”

“Are those not big enough in scale?” Stephen demands. “How about the clean energy technology that looks like it might stop global warming in its tracks? Is that enough? Is one planet not enough? Do we need to talk about the international collaboration that you started to combine Earth’s resources with alien technology to turn us into an interstellar civilization before another interstellar civilization can dismiss us as barbarians—”

“I’m not the one who decided none of that counted!” Tony shouted over Stephen. It stops the tirade, at least. Tony blows out a hard breath. “The guy who donates the 100 million dollars isn’t the hero,” he goes on. “That’s the guy who makes the discovery. The Foundation isn’t celebrated for the people it helps, it’s critiqued for the ones it doesn’t. The MRI shield, the smartphone… people like them, but they’re advances that ‘were always coming’. Or maybe ‘were overdue’. That doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing. Of course they’re worth doing.” Tony retracts a gauntlet and rubs a hand over his face. God, he’s tired. “I just… I wanted to be the hero for once,” he admits. It sounds so fucking selfish. “Tony Stark could never do enough. It always had to be about the money for them, even when it really wasn’t about the money for me. But Iron Man… No one wonders what his ulterior motive is when he does something good. They just cheer.”

Stephen sighs and hitches himself up onto the medical bed next to Tony. “Do you know why I hated Iron Man so much?”

Tony grimaces. “I always figured he was just too… blunt instrument for you.”

Stephen snorts. “Hulk and Cap are far more blunt,” he says. “Iron Man at least has precision weapons to go with the punches. No. I hated Iron Man because when the suit failed somehow Tony got the blame, but when it worked, Iron Man got the credit. Iron Man made everything you just explained worse, not better.”

There’s not really a counter argument for that. It’s true. Except, “Nothing was going to make that better,” Tony says. “Nothing could. Not until I’m dead, anyway.” He half expects Stephen to go right back to haranguing him for risking his life. 

“Speaking of which, I’m meant to be making sure you’re not dying now,” Stephen says. He stands and moves to face Tony. “Come on. Get the rest of the armor off.”

Tony obliges, and they proceed with the rest of the exam in silence. 

Near the end, Tony looks over Stephen’s shoulder rather than meet his eyes and says, quietly, “I’m not going to stop.”

“My initial reaction aside,” Stephen answers, just as soft, “I never thought you would. I know as well as anyone how this life becomes a part of you.” When he finishes the exam, he steps back. “You’re fine.” 

Tony nods and puts the armor back on. It’s never been so quiet between them before. His chest aches.

When he’s got everything but the helmet back on, Stephen stops him. “Is this why you always said no when I asked you out?”

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Didn’t seem right to lie like that to my partner.”

“Right.” Stephen nods firmly. “So will you go out with me now?”

Tony perks up. “You still want to?”

Stephen gives him a look. “You have not had a personality transplant,” he says dryly. “So yes, I still want to.”

Do not push your luck, Tony tells himself. He says it anyway, “Thought the lying might be a bigger deal.”

“Everyone keeps secrets,” Stephen says. “But the secrets that a friend will accept are different from the secrets that a partner will accept. You’ve already demonstrated that you understand that.” Tony grins and Stephen shoots him a look. “We will, however, be having words about you assuming I’d react like anyone else in your life.”

Tony swallows a laugh. “Of course,” he says. “I should have known you’d be exceptional.” 

“And don’t forget it,” Stephen says, a smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.

[themessedupsonata]

A Little Favour

Edmund Pevensie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend Edmund (aka the love of your life) asks you to help him invite his crush on a date.

word count: 2.6 k

warnings: none ig. Slight angst but most fluff and a slight mention of sex but not really

A/N: I pictured this story happening post WW2, but I made no references to the 40s so it can be read as a modern au

“I have for the first time found what I can truly love–I have found you. You are my sympathy–my better self–my good angel–I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life...” 

Edward Rochester's speech was rudely interrupted by some inconvenient person who was knocking at your door. You rolled your eyes and mumbled a "come in" loud enough so whoever was on the other side of the door could hear you.

Edmund Pevensie's head popped through the small space of the half-opened door and you completely forgot why you were angry in the first place. 

"Hi Y/N/N. Can we talk?" He smiled nervously.

You nodded and he sat down on the small couch that was in front of your bed so you could look at each other comfortably.

"I missed you, ya know?"

"We saw each other yesterday afternoon, Ed."

"Yesterday didn't count, Y/N. We were with my siblings." He pointed.

Edmund had a point. You loved Peter, Susan and Lucy; but you had multiple intimate matters that you preferred to talk about with Ed only.

"What did you want to talk about? Sounds important."

You were always closest to Edmund than of the other Pevensies. Since the two of you were four, you've been best friends. People were right, you and Ed were always joined at the hip. It was always you and him against the world and you hoped it would stay that way forever.

"I'm in love."

Your world stopped. Well, apparently it wouldn't be just the two of you against the world anymore. Now you would have to share your best friend.

"Oh, Hm… I- didn't see that coming. I mean, that’s great! If…" You trailed off with the words, but Ed seemed too lost in his thoughts that most likely involved this girl to hear you. "If you're happy, so am I!"

You knew very well that it was selfish, but you wanted him to be happy with you. You knew him better than anyone, he loved your company and even though you doubted his words a little, he always said you were cute. Why weren't you good enough for the boy you’ve been in love with for six years?

You bit your bottom lip to keep your eyes from filling with tears and discreetly cleared your throat before leaning forward slightly from your spot on the bed to snap your fingers in front of Edmund’s face, who had his head in the clouds.

"Oh, sorry. I… I'm just kind of nervous, you know? That's why I came here. I need your help to ask her out on a date." He spoke so quickly that you almost didn't understand him. He was avoiding your eyes, clearly nervous.

You sighed tiredly and knelt in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

You weren't being fair. For years you were the most important girl in his life (after his sisters and his mother of course) and your approval clearly means the world to him. If you were as madly in love with someone as Ed seemed to be with this girl, you also would be heartbroken if your best friend didn't support you.

"Of course, I'll help you, Ed. I'm happy for you. What do you have in mind for the date?"

He sighed in relief and was already visibly more relaxed.

"I'm not sure. That's why I came to you. I suspect my siblings know, but I don't want to hear their taunts. Especially if she dumps me."

You ignored all the negative feelings that came with this sentence and focused only on your friend.

"Be optimistic, okay? You're an amazing guy and if she dumps you, it’s her loss. And I think I can help you much more if you tell me who she is." You suggested.

Edmund was never one to be easily embarrassed, but for some reason today he was blushing like there was no tomorrow.

"I don't think I have a chance with her, okay? I'd rather not say who she is for now. I trust you and know you'll know how to help me plan the perfect date."

Only a mad person could agree with …

"Of course I can help you, Ed."

Mad; that's what you are.

His face lit up

"Thank you so much, Y/N/N! You're the best!" He exclaimed, getting up to hug you.

You always forgot about the rest of the world when you were with Ed. You'd give anything to be able to smell his cologne, bury your face in his neck, and be held in his warm arms for eternity.

But that would never be possible.

Because he would never be yours.

***

You guys were meeting every day to decide how Ed could ask out the mysterious girl (Yes, he was still refusing to tell you who she was) a couple of weeks ago. You honestly had no idea who she could be because as far as you knew, you were the only girl he interacts with. Your only suspect was Chloe Chapman, the most beautiful girl of your school year. She lent her eraser to you in the biology class so she was probably very nice. But she had travelled to America with her family and she would spend the whole summer there and Edmund wanted to arrange the date for three days from now. There was no way it could be her.

Apparently, your best friend knew this girl very well. He knew her favourite flowers and snacks, (Which was very helpful as he wanted the date to be a picnic) Ed insisted it would be perfect as she wouldn't like something too expensive and elaborate while also wanting something special and unique. That day you cried yourself to sleep because a picnic was your idea of the perfect date and you loved to fantasize about sharing that experience with Edmund. But now he would realize your dream with someone else.

Life was very unfair.

To make everything worse, he begged you to wait with him until she arrived. Edmund would never ask you to stay on the date with him because he wanted to have a private moment with the girl of his dreams and didn't want to make you uncomfortable being the third wheel. But he wanted you to stay with him to give him moral support until she shows up.

That was the only time in your life you hated being best friends with him.

At that very moment, you were in Edmund's room. He told you he was going to ask the mysterious girl out this afternoon and he would be here any minute with her answer.

A part of you really wanted her to say 'yes' because Ed was madly in love with her and you didn't want him to be heartbroken if she rejected him. But you couldn't help but wish she would say' no' because if she accepts, you knew Edmund would fight until the end for their relationship to last and you would be obligated to be his maid of honour and eventually the godmother of his children. The thought made you shiver.

You nearly had a heart attack when the door burst open and Edmund appeared, looking like he had won a million pounds in a marathon.

"She said yes!" he exclaimed. You've never seen him so happy before

“Oh my God, Ed! I'm so happy for you!" You replied, doing your best to look enthusiastic.

The two of you held each other for a while until Edmund broke the comfortable silence.

“You will be there, right?” he murmured against your hair.

“Of course, Ed. I will always be there when you need me.” That was the first completely true sentence you've said to him since he told you about the mysterious girl.

"Good. Thank you for everything” He pulled away from you just enough so that he could look to your face.

You were almost sure he stared at your lips and he was just as stunned by the proximity as you were. But he gently turned away from you and went to his desk to get the little notebook you both were using to plan Edmund's date. You tweaked the last details for the rest of the afternoon, but you noticed the way he avoided your gaze the entire time and you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel like your heart had been ripped out of your chest.

***

Today was the big day. Edmund asked you to get ready because you were meeting the mysterious girl today and he really wanted you to make a good impression on her so you both could become friends.

Fantastic. Simply fantastic.

You picked up your favourite summer dress and put on some simple makeup. It was an outdoor picnic after all.

Edmund arranged for you to meet at 3:30 pm at a flower shop near Primrose Hill, the place where the date would happen. Arriving at the store, it wasn't long before you found him and you forgot how to breathe when you saw the owner of your heart wearing a plain blue sweater and comfy trousers that you'd never seen him wear before. Apparently, he took your advice and bought new clothes for the occasion. He looked adorable.

“Hi, Ed” You called out to get his attention.

He turned to you and you felt your cheeks heat up as you felt his gaze travel over your body.

“You are…Wow! Y/N…I don't even have the words to say how beautiful you look” he said nervously, the pure adoration in his voice making your stomach flutter.

“Thanks, Ed. You look good too” You smiled.

The two of you quickly pulled yourselves together and set out on a journey to buy the perfect flowers for his date. In addition to her favourite flowers (which coincidentally were your favourite flowers as well), he asked the seller for help buying flowers with specific meanings. You were passionate about flowers, but you never learned about their meanings and the only flower Edmund knew was the mysterious girl’s favourite. According to the seller, red roses mean romance, tulips are true love and alstroemerias mean loyalty. You were both completely embarrassed when the kind florist recommended with a smirk that Ed buy lilies too because they mean eroticism and sexuality. He bought five different types of flowers in addition to the mysterious girl's favourites and left the store.

You were slightly nervous to get to Primrose Hill because Edmund insisted on decorating it himself, despite your pleas. You loved his best friend, but he didn't have a lot of decorating sense.

He had specifically arranged for the date to be at Ed's favourite tree at 4:00 pm, the tree was set back from the rest of the park for privacy but it was still a beautiful spot. That was the two of you's favourite hangout spot since you were kids and you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he's using your two's special spot to have a date with a girl.

You were starting to worry that he would stop caring so much about you now that he had a possible girlfriend.

The two of you arrived on the date and you were shocked to see the most beautiful picnic setting ever. Indeed, the flowers were still missing to complete the decoration, but the delicate tablecloth was full of your favourite foods that looked absolutely delicious and the comical picnic basket gave it a special charm.

“It's way too beautiful. You didn't do this on your own.” That was the first thing you said.

Ed shrugged, but you didn't miss the boyish smile on his face.

“My sisters helped me. I thought I had already overloaded you so I asked for more help. But I am offended that you would assume that I couldn't make something beautiful on my own, Y/N/N.” He said, pretending to be offended.

You helped him put the finishing touches on with the flowers and you can't help but sigh as you look at the most adorable picnic you've ever seen.

You would give anything for Ed to have done all that specifically for you.

"It's 5 minutes to 4:00 pm" Ed commented while looking at his wristwatch.

You nodded and you two sat down next to each other.

“I don't know her” You broke the comfortable silence after a few minutes.

He looked at you with confusion written on his face.

“I don't know her, Ed. But I see how much she seems to make you happy and I've never seen your eyes so bright as when you talk about her. She clearly is your world and you wouldn't have made something so beautiful and special if you didn't love her. I'm so glad you found her, Edmund… I wish the world to you both because I feel like you were made for each other” You commented, surprised that your voice didn't choke.

Every word you said was like a knife in your heart, but it was the truth. You loved him unconditionally, and you knew that Edmund loved her as much as you loved him. He still looked confused by your words, but it didn't matter. You needed to accept that you both just weren't meant to be and that was okay. You were strong and deep down you knew you would get over it. The important thing is that Ed was happy and that you will never stop being best friends.

When you looked up from your lap, you looked at your best friend's face. He had a neutral expression that didn't give away what he was thinking, but you'd never seen him look so peaceful before.

He looked away from your gaze to look at the wristclock.

“It's 4:00 pm, Y/N. I think it's time.”

You nodded in acceptance with some unshed tears and got up off the ground, walking peacefully away from Ed so he could enjoy his long-awaited date.

“Y/N where are you going?” You heard Ed's voice after walking a little less than a meter.

You turned around, confused only to see an Edmund who was clearly trying very hard not to burst out laughing. The left hand was shoved in the pocket of the trousers and the right held the bouquet with the favourite flowers of the mysterious girl.

Wait…

are the mysterious girl, Y/N/N. I can't believe you didn't notice sooner!" He exclaimed with a huge smile on his face.

"What?!?"

“These are your favourite things, sweetheart. I wanted to know your opinion about everything because it was everything for you.

“But… That day you said she said yes” You pointed, still not believing the situation you were in.

“It needed to be believable. I really wanted to ask you out like a normal person, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same way. I thought that if you saw how well I know you and how thoughtful I could be as a boyfriend you would want me. I'm sorry if I hurte--"

You threw yourself into his arms and kissed him passionately. His lips were as soft and sweet as you'd imagine. He tasted like home.

“Of course, I feel the same, Ed. It's impossible not to love you." You smiled, leaning your forehead against his.

He stole one more peck and held you by the hand so you could enjoy the picnic. The long-awaited date would be the beginning of the most beautiful love story between two soulmates.

[lovemyromance]

So I finished the books of acotar and Im confused, WHAT IS THERE BETWEEN AZRIEL AND GWYN?? I read the bonus chapter of acosf, but that just showed me more of ELAIN AND AZRIEL. Im literally seeing people saying "azriel and gwyn had more chemistry than elain and azriel" LIKE HUH??? like where did this ship come from? I didnt even know about this bonus chapter until I came to tiktok. I thought gwyn was just a side character... I had no idea this was a ship because there is nothing between them that I saw. 😭

Yeah I literally have no idea. I cheated a little when I was reading ACOWAR and looked up fanart before I finished the series. I saw Azriel with this redhead and was so so confused. I thought hm maybe he gets a mate after the war.

Then I read ACOFAS. Was really shipping Elriel but was sad that his fan art was with some redhead other girl. I genuinely at one point wondered if it was Vassa because she was the only other redhead female character I could think of other than Amarantha 😅

It was bothering me so I asked my friend (who was the reason I read the series in the first place). She said she had no idea who that woman was.

And I thought she was just lying to me to avoid telling me spoilers lol so I continued reading. Imagine my surprise when I finished ACOSF, got even more invested in Elriel, and still had no answer.

Then I actually did a deep dive online and found out that it's GWYN they're shipping with Azriel? I was so confused. I asked my friend if there was another book, why is this Gwyn Azriel ship a thing?

She didn't remember who Gwyn was because she read ACOSF immediately when it first came out and hasn't reread since, but that's beside the point.

Then I did some more digging. Apparently a bonus chapter existed which made things more clear? I read it. Still did not understand where the ship came from. If anything, it only cemented Elriel endgame for me.

I said okay, maybe I'm being biased? I made my friend read the BC - she did not even know it existed and she literally has been reading the series since it came out in like 2015 or whatever

But again, that's beside the point.

And before anyone even argues, she was a strong Elucien supporter and would argue with me "no they are mates Elriel is not a thing". I made her read the bonus chapter and she immediately switched to Elriel. She said "yeah ok - there's no going back from that one". She also, did not view the Gwynriel interaction as romantic in any way.

I really don't know where Gwynriel came from. Like I've said over and over again - I understand Elucien. They are canonically mates. A mating bond is all they have, but until disproven, it still counts.

Gwynriel doesn't have that. They barely even interact on the page.

I don't know if it's because people hate elain, or they ship Azriel with themselves and they can't relate to Elain so "hey, here's another attractive straight girl boss I can pretend is me", or they ship Elucien and need Azriel out of the way 🤷🏻‍♀️

Gwynriels literally KNOW there is nothing romantic between the two currently. Their entire ship is based on this concept of "well it could happen" or "what if". That's why I don't take it seriously. They have very limited info about both Gwyn and Azriel and they have allowed their imaginations to fill in the blanks. Then the ship gained popularity and their imaginative scenarios got repeated enough that people began to think that was actually in the books. Then they got confident and began to yell their made up scenarios louder in the fandom.

Most of Gwynriel is rooted in imaginative headcanons. They saw any mention of Gwyn or Azriel and began to fill in the blanks themselves. Aka Azriel trying to excuse himself by saying "I have to go over daggers with Gwyn" suddenly wasn't just an excuse and actually a secret planned date between the two where she got "private dagger lessons" and they talked for hours or whatever. It became real to them even if it didn't exist in the books. They didn't do any fact checking before repeating their HCs over and over until it became the truth to them. And then they went on other shipping posts and started fights over their fake recollection of canon.

Literally just last week, I saw a post about how Gwyn only blushes for Azriel she has feelings for him. That never happened. She blushed for Rhysand, not Azriel.

But the thing is, just because you say something louder than someone else, doesn't mean you are correct.

I really don't engage with Gwynriels because half of them have admitted they haven't even read the books, just the bonus chapter. Or they've just read ACOSF.

Either way, I just see it as a crackship. If they ship it because they find it cute, sure whatever. If they're more active in the fandom, I just scroll past their posts and don't engage. I don't see where they are coming from and they're not going to see Elriel so there's no point trying to convince anyone at this point.

[pascaloverx]

As It Was

Chapter One

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Summary: "When your ex-husband shows up in the middle of the night, asking for your help, the right thing to do would be to leave him to fend for himself, wouldn't it?"

Our protagonist decides to embark on an adventure to clear her ex-husband's name as a scapegoat. Together with a small team, they will do whatever it takes to keep James Barnes away from prison and perhaps rekindle flames from the past."

Warnings: use of violence, future adult content and inappropriate language. Minors are advised not to read or engage with this story.

James Buchanan Barnes entered my life at an unexpected moment. We were at a party organized by my best friend Wanda. She and her girlfriend were celebrating their first home together, while I was celebrating a canceled date on top of another. My father, who was a military commander at the time, had arranged a meeting with his best friend's godson. This godson apparently was too busy for a tedious date with someone's daughter. I wasn't feeling very happy with myself when James approached to ask if I wanted some snacks. He was trying to be social since Sam had made a bet with him that involved someone buying beer for the other for a year. That night, James earned free beer for a year when he managed to hold a conversation with me for more than twenty minutes. It was easy to talk to someone who was just as uncomfortable as I was. I confess that the fact that James had a job similar to my father's made me insecure at the beginning of the relationship. But something about the way he stood out among the people at that barbecue made me want to know more about him. He seemed out of place even though he interacted with other people, in reality, he only interacted with Sam and Yelena throughout the night. There were people trying to approach him, striking up a conversation or touching his arm. He seemed so uncomfortable that I even wondered how someone who didn't seem to like crowds became friends with Sam Wilson. In fact, I was about to leave when James asked me if I wanted more hamburgers.

"Do you know that in Brazil, barbecue is not about hamburgers and sausages made on a grill but about meat?" I said, trying to be as random as possible to see if I could prolong our interaction. Ironically, Yelena challenged me to hold a conversation with any unknown person at the party for at least five minutes.

"Are you Brazilian or just a culturally curious person?" James asked, holding a tray with hamburgers. At that moment, I stopped to observe his face completely, his stubble and long hair gave him the aesthetic of a bad boy excluded from society. I thought to myself that if we were in high school, he would be the type of guy who would attract me.

"A little bit of both. My mother was Brazilian, and I simply got curious about what her life was like before I existed," I replied, grabbing one of the hamburgers from the tray. I moved away from James because I imagined he would offer hamburgers to other people, but he remained still.

"I've never been to Brazil, maybe one day I can have a real Brazilian barbecue and say which one is the tastiest."

"When I was little, my mom used to say it was one of the things she missed the most, so I believe you won't regret it." I remember James's smug smile when I distanced myself from him, thinking our conversation had ended. Honestly, in my defense, he seemed to want an excuse to get away from that barbecue.

"Do you usually leave people talking to themselves or do you just really not like me?" He spoke almost whispering close to my ear. His voice at that moment made my whole body shiver. Barnes typically used the power of his voice against me when he wanted to win an argument. It always worked.

"I thought after the cooking class you'd be eager to go home, maybe have a nice drink and do what a man like you does best on a Saturday night." I spoke shyly because, honestly, James Barnes had a gaze that would make anyone feel inappropriate for talking to him.

"Then come with me, accompany me while I do what a man does best on a Saturday night. I'm sure your company will only enhance any lurid thoughts that may be crossing your mind right now. Not to mention, you seem just as eager to stay here as I am." His words exuded confidence, and I stared at him, surprised by his sudden invitation.

"Do you have a habit of inviting any stranger to accompany you home, or am I the lucky one tonight?" I'm trying not to accept your invitation too quickly, perhaps it's my attempt to play hard to get or my inexperience with flirting.

"You're not a stranger. You're Wanda's best friend, who happens to be my best friend's girlfriend." He approaches as if he's analyzing me or trying to read my thoughts. I smile softly, thinking that Wanda must be watching this scene from afar, thinking that this will be the thousandth time she tries to set me up with someone and it might be the thousandth time I turn the guy down. I take a deep breath, counting to five mentally to make sure I respond to Barnes' invitation with confidence.

"You don't even know my name, yet you want my company tonight?" I say as we flirt with our eyes. It seems like we've entered into a mental competition to see who can flirt better.

"Naturally, for what I have in mind for the future of our minds, we'll have to exchange names, but that's just a minor detail. The most important thing is to know if I have your consent to turn this quiet night into one of the most memorable ones you've ever had." Officially, I'm in his hands for the night. There's no fighting it, even though I don't even know why I'm fighting against my instinct to go home with this handsome man with piercing blue eyes.

"My name is Melisa, and you have permission to show me how much potential you have to make this night memorable. But can you live up to the expectations you're creating?"

"I guess we'll have to find out together, Melisa." He took my hand, guiding me towards his motorcycle. I remember my shocked reaction when I saw that he rode a motorcycle. I remember how he spent countless minutes trying to convince me that motorcycles were safe when driven by a professional. I remember asking if he was a biker and receiving a hearty laugh in response.

I remember how he touched his long hair and brushed the strands that were near his eye to the back. That night was truly memorable, but not for the reasons we expected. It was the night I discovered who James Buchanan Barnes truly was. A man who takes you to his home and despite being eager for a make-out session to help out his drunk best friend who is too intoxicated to drive. A man who takes you home and convinces you that you won't be able to move on with your life until you find out if he's truly worth it. The man who takes three dates to take you to bed. The man who makes you want to marry him just a year and a half after you start dating because he feels like he can't live without you. But he's also the man who, when he's wrong, simply shuts himself off from the world until there's no other choice but to leave him there.

I could spend my whole life trying to explain James Barnes, but I would simply like to share what Barnes currently means to me.He is the ex-husband whom I swore never to let back into my house, and right now, I am staring at him. I'm staring at him while holding a baseball bat that I keep for "emergencies."

He is wet, wearing a soaked white shirt, most likely due to the heavy rain outside. His hair looks very different from the last time I saw him. It's short, while his beard seems to have been left unshaven for a while. He's breathing heavily, perhaps he ran here or is fleeing from something. The gaze that once left me speechless now made me question everything. I was ready to swing that bat at James' head when he whispered, "I know you've probably wanted to hit me with that bat since the divorce, but can we save this reckoning for when I'm not running away?"

"Running away from whom, Barnes?" I assure you that my facial expression must be as cold as the tone of voice I'm using. But after the divorce, all I was left with was anger towards the man I used to call my husband.

"There's still that secret passage you called stupid when I suggested it, but later said it would be a good hiding spot in case one of us got arrested." He seems to ignore my question or my utterly confused expression. I nod silently, pointing towards the end of the hallway in our house. Well, now it's my house, but it used to be ours.

Instead of moving forward and entering that secret passage which, yes, if you've seen any action movie, you know it's usually hidden behind a mirror or a bookshelf, Barnes approaches me with a look of "I forgot to tell you" that he used to give me before delivering bad news.

"The police will be here in about five minutes, and I need you to act as if you haven't seen me in years. Be the daughter your father raised and the clever woman I fell in love with, and make sure they leave without suspecting anything. That's the most I can tell you in such a short time, and I need you to trust me just one more time."

James was so quick that before I could even respond, he had already disappeared into the secret room of the house. I could only curse myself internally for keeping that place a secret, even though it had been years since my divorce. At that moment, memories of the day I introduced James to my father flooded back. My father, who had gone to great lengths to set me up with his friend's godson, was not at all pleased to learn that his beloved daughter was dating a man who worked as a government agent.My father actually didn't like James. He would say that something about Barnes made him believe that one day I would be interrogated by the police to talk about James. My thoughts were interrupted by knocks on the door, followed by a police officer asking me to open the door. It was only at that moment that I realized I wasn't properly dressed to receive anyone at home. The truth is, I was getting ready for a date when I heard a noise on the first floor of the house. So, I'm just wearing my underwear and a robe that doesn't fully cover my body. But that doesn't stop me from opening the door right after hearing the police officer call my name.

"Good evening, officers. How can I assist you?" I say, trying to hide the lower part of my body behind the door. I wish I had had time to put on more decent clothing. The police officers are clearly scrutinizing my behavior, attempting to find any trace of James through the small opening of the door.

"Is your husband James Buchanan Barnes, miss?" The older, graying police officer speaks in an authoritative tone.

"He used to be, sir. Is something wrong with him?" I try to appear as surprised and innocent as possible. I know that many law enforcement officers tend to believe people who seem somewhat innocent.

"I'm sorry to inform you, but your husband is wanted for suspicion of being involved with an international smuggler named Killian. We believe Mr. Barnes may have provided unauthorized access to national security information." Now I'm truly shocked, perhaps nervous enough for the officers to notice a slight twitch in my left eye. My hands start to sweat as I think about the slightest chance of them knowing that James is here.

"And you believe he would come to his ex-wife's house in the middle of the night, after years, to hide from the police or whoever else is after him?" Years ago, my father taught me that the key to telling a good lie is to make the truth sound absurd. I am practicing one of his many teachings with those whom he would hate to know I'm trying to deceive. You see, my father worked for years to keep this country free from criminality and to apprehend those who threaten it in any way.

"We believe he might reach out to you or this residence seeking comfort or assistance, in which case we advise you to contact us immediately. Otherwise, it will be assumed that you are an accomplice." The other police officer spoke, trying to intimidate me. It didn't work.

"Well... in that case, as soon as I see my ex-husband, you'll be the first to know. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready for a date. You know, I'm trying to move on after the divorce."

I give them a completely nonchalant smile. They seem to have believed that I don't know anything about James, but they don't seem to have understood that I'm no longer his wife. I can't blame them; at this moment, even I am unsure if we really are no longer married.

"We hope we haven't disturbed your evening. Here's a number for you to call if you see your husband. Please do not hesitate to call if you have any information about him." The older police officer speaks, handing me a card with a number. I nod, confirming that I will assist them, and watch as they make their way back to the patrol car.

For a moment, I breathe a sigh of relief, but then I remember that my ex-husband is still hiding here. I know I can't keep him here for long, so I decide to start planning what to do next. I have a plan that might work to get James out of here before the police come back with a warrant. I can't help but think that whatever I do, it has to be quick because I do have a date, and if I'm absent, I know my father will become suspicious. Before going to talk to James, I went upstairs and put on the dress that was laying on the bed. Fortunately, I was almost ready, which would help me not to be too late for the date. As I put on my shoes, I send a message to the man I'm going out with, letting him know that I'll be running late. I also send a message to Sam, using a coded message that only he can understand. In reality, I simply sent a message saying that he had forgotten his favorite cleats here and that it would be good for him to come and get them for the weekend game. He would know that I needed him urgently because we agreed to send messages like this in case we needed help. I think he understood, as he replied that since the game was very important, he would come to pick up the cleats as soon as possible. Sam has been James' best friend for as long as I've known him. I'm sure Sam will want to be involved in helping out.

I finish getting ready for the date and head downstairs to find the secret passage where James is hiding. I stomp my feet on the ground twice with force to secretly signal that I'm alone. Barnes created several secret codes to ensure I was prepared for any situation during our marriage. For a moment, I feel strange for still remembering those things.

"You took all this time to get ready knowing that I was here waiting for you?" James's tone of voice indicates that he's not very happy with me. His gaze reflects a minimal level of patience, something I witnessed only a few times during our marriage. Unfortunately, the damn man is irresistibly more attractive when he's angry.

"It's funny how you're the one indignant when I'm the one being interrogated by the police right after my ex-husband breaks into my house. And I'm dressed up because I have a date that I can't cancel, as my father would quickly find out, and you, James Barnes, certainly wouldn't want my father suspecting why I missed this date." I know I'll seem like a submissive daughter to my father, but he has been trying to set me up with Steve Rogers, an FBI prodigy who is his best friend's godson, for a year now. He would connect the dots as soon as he found out about James. He approaches me with a deeply concerned look, and I feel like I could get lost in the scent of his perfume. It's not overpowering, but it's distinctive, and it's incredible that he still smells so good after all these years.

"Speaking of your father, you can't tell him anything about this. I... I found out just minutes before being framed that he is the true partner of Killian." Before I can even muster a reaction, I hear the sound of someone knocking on the door and look at James, who has a facial expression that makes me think he's contemplating ways to escape.

"Don't even think about it, Barnes. I'll handle whoever is here, and you'll wait for me while we figure out a way to keep you from getting arrested or killed." Few moments in my relationship with James were about us disagreeing with each other because we knew that two stubborn people rarely reach a consensus. He seems to understand what I'm saying, but I don't trust that he will obey me.