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sidekick-hero · 1 year

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hold me close (I’m shaking apart)

(steddie / explicit / part 1 / 6k / AO3 Link at the bottom)

Inspired by this amazing, mind-blowing piece of fanart by @dreaminginpencil (please give the artist and art some love)

Your perspective on a lot of things changes when you save the world and almost die in the process. Like how important high school hierarchies are, or what kind of people you want to spend your time with.

Eddie, for example, never thought he would be hanging out with the likes of Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, or even Robin Buckley, even though she was as much of a social misfit as he was. Not to mention the bunch of fifteen-year-olds, although, to be fair, he had hung out with some of them back in Hellfire. Not that there was anything wrong with those people, far from it. But without the Upside Down, he probably never would have known.

The whole experience taught him a lot, too. Mostly not to judge a book by its cover, a lesson Eddie thought he'd learned a long time ago. In fact, he had prided himself on applying it to his ways in high school, adopting little lost sheep who did not fit in with the crowd.

Apparently, he had been wrong.

Because he also ended up spending more and more time with the former King of Hawkins High himself and that was a book he would have wrinkled his nose at before but found himself addicted to now.

But Eddie was not the only one who had come back from his brush with another dimension, a hellish dimension, a changed man. No one goes through the things they’ve been through unscathed. Eddie was no expert in those matters, but he had the impression that more than anyone else, Steve was the one who had embraced the change that brought the most. It seemed to Eddie like Steve was almost thankful to have left the days of 'King Steve' behind. For one thing, the guy seemed more at ease, more relaxed, than Eddie had ever seen him at school. Steve had stopped holding himself so rigidly all the time, no longer coiled up like a snake ready to strike. Instead, he was goofing off with Dustin or bickering with Robin, acting like a total dork without regard to his reputation.

Eddie knew Steve still regretted a lot of the things he'd done, a truth spilled from Steve’s mouth in the hours between midnight and dawn, but Steve had begun to make peace with his past mistakes.

Leaving 'King Steve' behind also meant that Steve had stopped caring about high school etiquette and social ladders, just like Eddie had. Steve didn't seem to have any problems calling a band geek his platonic soul mate or hanging out with 15-year-olds on a regular basis.

Of all the unlikely friendships Eddie had formed during the literal apocalypse, the one with Steve felt the most unlikely. Hawkins High's freak and king. But those titles had stopped meaning anything, they were just names and had nothing to do with him or with Steve.

It all came down to one simple truth: Steve Harrington was not at all what Eddie expected him to be, and it was confusing him to no end.

Spending time with Steve made Eddie feel unsteady, something he wasn't used to.

Thing is, Eddie’s not blind. He knows what Steve looks like. Even back in high school there had been an awareness of Steve and the way he moved and talked and commanded a room just by walking into it. Eddie had been denying it, of course, willing to believe it was contempt, disdain he felt for the guy, and that was why his eyes would find Steve in any room, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Although at night, in his dreams, he knew the truth.

Back then it hadn't really been a problem. They existed in different social circles, Steve on top and Eddie on the bottom of the ladder. Steve probably hadn't even been aware of Eddie's existence, and that had been fine with him. It had made it easier to ignore the heat that pooled in his stomach when he had to watch Steve in his little gym shorts throwing balls into laundry baskets, or to forget the dreams he woke up from, all sticky and embarrassed.

Their newfound friendship makes dealing with his whatever better and worse. Better, because now that he got to know Steve, the real Steve and not the bastardized version he knew from high school, he realizes what a great guy he is. Steve’s funny without meaning to be, goofy in a way that's endearing and silly at the same time. He could be a bit of a bitch, but when it isn't meant to hurt, it is actually pretty funny to watch him being a petty mean girl.

Steve Harrington also has a depth to him that Eddie didn't expect at all. Isn't it enough that the guy is gorgeous and athletic and charming? No, he has to be sincere and caring as well. That's where things started to get worse for Eddie. Because lusting after Steve Harrington? Old news. Expected, really — how could Eddie be better than at least half the population of Hawkins his age?

It's the feelings underneath the lust that are dangerous, that could get him into trouble.

Steve doesn't help his situation at all, of course. Instead of being aloof and prickly or arrogant, he has to be sweet to Eddie. Seeks him out to ask his opinion on things, like he really cares what Eddie thinks. Asks him to spend time with him, to come over, to watch a movie or just go for a ride to get out of this shitshow of a town. Laughs at Eddie's jokes and listens to his stories, asking questions and looking at him with big, warm eyes.

When they're in the same room, Steve keeps moving closer and closer to him, invading his space as if trying to carve out his own little corner in it. He keeps touching Eddie, brushing against him, breathing against his skin when he leans over his shoulder or whispers in his ear, and Eddie knows it doesn't mean anything, feels bad about the way all these innocent touches make heat build in his stomach, how they make his balls draw tight and his skin feel too small for his body. He doesn't want to feel that way, wants to be normal for once, because Steve is his friend and it feels dirtybadwrong to look at him and think about all the things he wants to do to him.

Like when they celebrated Robin's birthday last month, and everyone had gathered at Steve's big empty house to party. There had been an assortment of drinks, more than a house full of 15-year-olds probably needed, because the only guests of (almost) legal drinking age were Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Steve and himself. Eddie had found himself standing in front of the various bottles, marveling at the sheer potential for alcohol poisoning, when Steve came up behind him and peered over his shoulder.

"Are you expecting a whole fraternity to show up or are you trying to get us all pissed?"

Steve was humming behind him, so close that Eddie could have sworn he could feel the vibration through his back. Eddie was acutely aware of the heat Steve was giving off, goosebumps breaking out all over his body as the electricity of Steve's closeness continued to crackle under his skin. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to stay upright at that point, how he hadn't let out the whimper rising in his throat.

So of course Steve went ahead and made it worse.

He took another step forward and pressed his front fully against Eddie's back, trapping Eddie between the counter and his solid body. He inhaled sharply as he felt the heat through his thin shirt and was hit with Steve's intoxicating scent; musky from the sweat glistening on his flushed skin, mixed with the expensive cologne Steve always wore and the beer he had earlier. Underneath it all was something pure Steve. Eddie's head was spinning from the way Steve was overwhelming his senses.

And then Steve put his mouth right next to Eddie's ear and whispered, "Maybe I just want you to loosen up a little. You seem super tense, dude." Steve's hot breath had hit the sensitive skin of his ear and Eddie couldn't help the shiver that ran through him nor the strangled sound escaping his mouth. He shuffled forward to press himself up against the counter to hide the growing evidence of what Steve was doing to him, and poured himself a drink.

Fuck that shit, he needed it.

A few days later, Steve, Robin and Eddie had gotten together after Robin and Steve's shifts at the Family Video Store to go to the local diner for fries and milkshakes, as they often did. Nothing fancy, just friends hanging out.

Everything had started out pretty normal too, relaxed and easy, joking around, Robin and Steve bickering like an old married couple and Eddie adding fuel to all their playful arguments. They all shared a huge order of fries, but each ordered their own milkshake. Robin chose strawberry, Eddie chose chocolate, and Steve chose vanilla. This, of course, made Eddie grin mischievously at Steve.

"I'm trying so hard not to make a joke right now, Harrington. I hope you appreciate the effort."

All Eddie got for his trouble was a puzzled blink from Steve's hazel eyes. For someone with Steve's reputation, he was surprisingly bad at picking up on innuendo. Eddie was embarrassed at how damn endearing he found it.

Just as Eddie decided it was a lost cause, Steve suddenly leaned forward from where he was sitting across from Eddie, right into his space. Eddie wanted to back away, but was glued to the spot by the intense look in Steve's eyes as his hand came up and moved toward Eddie's face in what seemed like slow motion. Eddie marveled at how big it looked, as if it could easily cradle his entire face in its palm. Of course it didn't. Cradle it, that was. It did, however, touch his face, soft as a butterfly's wing.

Eddie had to squint to see what it was doing so close to his face, but it was gone in an instant, leaving Eddie wondering if he was dreaming the sensation of warm, dry skin touching his cheek just below his left eye.

When he looked back up, Steve was holding up his index finger to him, still leaning in close and looking straight into his eyes with a smile that crinkled their corners. "Make a wish."

There were so many things Eddie could have wished for. A new amp for his sweetheart, a raise at his job at the music store, hell, even world peace. But Eddie is a weak, weak man. And so he wished for something he could never have and felt bad at the sight of Steve's devastating smile as he blew away the eyelash.

It was killing Eddie, and Steve just kept doing shit like that. The more Eddie tried to stay away, to put space between them to protect his fragile heart, the more Steve seemed to seek him out. It was the sweetest kind of torture Eddie had ever felt, and he was sure he was going to lose his fucking mind over it, and soon.

It was not enough to keep him away for good, though.

Like just a few days ago when they had all been over to use Steve's pool and the promise of a nice dip was too much for Eddie to resist. Or so he kept telling himself.

The hot mid-summer sun was beating down on him as he found himself face to face with a group of roughhousing teenagers in the pool. Eddie had no desire to join them while they were still acting like the half-wild gremlins they really were, so he decided to stay by the side of the pool, sprawled out on a towel as small drops of water kept hitting his heated skin and a light breeze caressed him.

He still had his jeans on, but his upper body was bare. It was not easy for him to show off his scarred body like that, he was still self-conscious about the damage he had suffered from being almost torn to shreds by the Demobats, but these were his friends and if he was ever going to reclaim his own body and feel comfortable in his own skin, he had to start somewhere.

However, it was not part of his plan to let anyone touch his body just yet. Even Eddie could hardly bring himself to do it most days, too weirded out by the numbness of some of his scars, too afraid of the pain of touching others. So when Steve approached him with a bottle of sunscreen, he sat up abruptly and tried to get away as quickly as possible without drawing too much attention to himself.

Steve was having none of it.

"Don’t even think about it, Eddie, you look like a lobster. You need to put on some sunscreen before you blister, man."

Fucker was fast, too because before Eddie could even think about reaching for his shirt, muttering about putting it back on, maybe going inside, Steve slid in behind him, his legs bracketing Eddie's and his front to Eddie's back.

So Eddie found himself once again trapped by the most beautiful Venus flytrap and there was no escaping its sweet but deadly embrace.

"Let me give you a hand."

There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say with all the words stuck in his throat, so Eddie just... took it. Just let Steve do whatever the hell he wanted to him. The only thing Eddie did was pray to the heavens to send him the strength he needed to not crumble under Steve's capable hands as they began to spread the cool lotion over the too-hot skin of his back. He shivered at the difference in temperature, his back arching under Steve's hands as he couldn't decide if he wanted them closer or if he wanted to get away from them, unable to stop a small, embarrassing sound from escaping his lips. It was too much.

It wasn’t enough.

Steve's hands worked methodically, in broad strokes that once again reminded Eddie how big Steve's hands were, spanning his entire shoulder blade, the thumbs digging in here in there in an almost massage. Steve kept his touch gentle but sure. He didn't linger, exactly, but he wasn't in a hurry either, taking his took his time, making sure to touch every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Eddie could swear Steve's fingerprints were burned into his skin like a brand and he was glad Steve couldn't see his face, couldn't see the way he kept biting his lips to stifle the moans that clawed their way up his throat, or the way his eyes were pressed together so tightly he could see stars. It felt like Steve’s touch lasted forever, time a useless construct that bent to Steve's will like everything else.

It was over much too quickly.

Eddie mourned the loss of those hands on his skin the moment they were gone as Steve pulled them away, wiping his hands on the towel and standing up, handing Eddie the bottle of sunscreen. "For your front. Let me know if you need me, 'kay?" And then he had the audacity to wink at Eddie.

Eddie looked up at him, blinded by the way the sun lit Steve from behind, hitting his mousy brown hair at an angle that made it look like golden whiskey, his skin sun-kissed and freckled. All those moles splattered all over his body in stark contrast to the caramel color of his skin, inviting Eddie to put his mouth all over them, to worship each and every one of them until he could identify them by the feel against his lips and tongue.

Steve had smiled down at him, happy and carefree, and Eddie thought he'd let himself be torn apart by bats any day if it meant being worthy of a look like that.

What he’s trying to say with all of this: He’s so fucked.

But it's fine. Eddie's fine. He really is.

It's fine that his mind keeps losing track of things when he's around Steve, that he keeps spacing out while staring at his lips or the moles on his neck or those goddamn paws Steve calls hands. It's fine that his dreams lately all seem to involve sweeping brown hair and hazel eyes, and that he wakes up from most of them horny and desperately rutting in his mattress. He's a healthy 21-year-old whose only company lately has been his right hand. A stiff breeze could set him off.

He blames that for giving in so easily.

It's early August, and the heat has grown oppressive, stifling. It's unbearable outside, and even in Steve's room, with all the shades drawn and the air conditioning on, it's barely tolerable. But the trailer is so much worse, so Eddie spends most of his days at Steve's.

Which is fine. He's fine.

He's fine when Steve takes off his jeans after a lot of complaining about them sticking to his thighs, and just wears his boxers and one of those stupid polo shirts he's so fond of, showing off his strong, hairy thighs.

Being fine gets harder (pun intended, Eddie thinks) when Steve doesn't sit back down at the foot of the bed, where he had started before his impromptu striptease, but right next to Eddie, his back to the headboard.

They're sitting close together, shoulder to shoulder, thighs almost touching and Eddie can feel the heat of Steve's leg even through his jeans. It makes very aware of his own layers; a long-sleeved Hellfire shirt and ripped jeans. After the sunscreen incident (as he calls it in his head) he couldn't stand the thought of his bare skin anywhere near Steve.

Steve does not seem to have any such reservations. As he settles more comfortably on the bed, his bare forearm presses against Eddie's clothed one, just a thoughtless, careless touch, but Eddie's heart stutters at the contact, missing several beats. It tries to make up for it with rapid thundering. This awareness of Steve has been growing steadily, building and building, for weeks and Eddie feels it's about to reach its crescendo. The air around them seems to crackle with energy, causing the leg resting next to Steve's to bounce.

The heavy weight of Steve's hand as it comes to rest on his thigh to stop his restless movement almost makes him jump, his muscles tense from the effort to hold still when all he wants to do is vibrate right out of his skin. The heat of Steve's palm sears his skin even through the layer of clothing between them and Eddie feels as if it will forever be marked by Steve Harrington. Thinks he wouldn't mind wearing some visible proof of it, something that said 'Property of Steve', like wearing his letterman jacket or his class ring. Eddie thought he left those silly dreams behind a long time ago, but teenage dreams die harder than you think.

"Hey, man, are you okay?" Steve asks with a hint of worry in his voice, his eyes serious as they look at Eddie, as if he's trying to say You can tell me and I want to make it better. But Eddie can't and Steve won't.

But it's fine, he can be fine.

"Nah, all good. Sorry. The heat's getting to me, making me a little crazy, I guess."

"Might be you’re wearing so many fucking layers, dude.” He says it teasingly, tongue-in-cheek and Eddie forces a chuckle, hopes Steve will drop it if he makes a joke out of it.

He must not be very convincing because Steve just keeps looking at him and Eddie can hardly stand it, this all-consuming focus on him. Not because it's too much, but because now that he has it, he knows he'll crave it even more. He already wants Steve's eyes on him all the time, wants to be the center of Steve's attention as much as Steve is his; the axis around which his days revolve.

Eddie has always been greedy.

"You ever fooled around with another guy?"

Steve's words are like a bucket of cold water poured over his head, like the needle jumping on the record and making that scratchy sound. Has he ever…What the fuck, Harrington?

Eddie’s frozen in shock, breath caught and heart no longer beating, suspended in the air and afraid of the drop. Finds himself at a loss for words, something that doesn't happen very often in his life, thinks that he must be dreaming, one of those dreams where he's going to have to change his sheets again.

"Have I ever - " He swallows, but it goes down the wrong pipe and he coughs instead, has to lean forward with his fist to his mouth, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Steve tries to help and puts a hand on his back, rubbing it in soothing circles as if he hadn't just dropped a fucking bomb in Eddie's lap. You ever fooled around with another guy?

When the coughing subsides, he takes a shuddering breath, hoping Steve will drop the subject, move on as if Eddie won't lie awake tonight repeating those words over and over again in his head.

He should have known better by now — Steve Harrington isn't one to let things go.

"So have you? You can tell me, I won't tell anyone, promise."

Jesus Christ.

"Can't say I have, Stevie.” Eddie tells him the truth, but keeps to himself how much he wishes he had. “What about you? Those communal showers after basketball practice ever get," he pauses for effect, "steamy?"

There's a fine dusting of red on Steve's cheeks and his eyes have gotten bigger, glassy. He bites his lip, and Eddie's eyes immediately fall to them, mouth watering as he thinks about replacing Steve’s teeth with his own.

"No, we— I didn't— But." Another pause, another bite, as Steve's eyes drop to Eddie's mouth as well. Eddie licks over them compulsively and sees Steve's eyes follow the movement with eyes that are more black than hazel.

"But?" He almost whispers, too afraid to startle Steve and break whatever spell he's under.

"But I always wondered. How it would feel. If it's as good. Better." His breathing speeds up and Eddie matches it, feeling as if he's already been around the football field a few times.

That tension keeps on building, and Eddie has no idea what will happen when it reaches its breaking point.

If he even wants to find out.

If he can take any more.

If he'll survive whatever comes next.

But Eddie has already proven that his survival instincts are all fucked up, so instead of backing off, instead of ending the madness here once and for all, Eddie jumps right in.

"Why didn't you try it? Don't tell me King Steve couldn't have pulled a hot piece of ass if he wanted to."

He’s playing with fire, he knows that, but no one could have prepared him for the smoldering heat in Steve's eyes as he looks up at Eddie. "Maybe. If I'd asked, Tommy would have, I think. I didn't though." His hand reaches across their bodies and slides up Eddie's arm, settling on his shoulder as if it belonged there. "But I'm asking now."

Eddie's stomach clenches with how much he wants this, wants it so bad he can taste it on his tongue, his skin tingling at the mere thought of getting his hands on Steve's skin. But he has to be sure, he has to know. "What are you asking?”

"I'm asking if you want to experiment. See what it's like."

"You want to —" And here he thought Steve would want to — stupid. Eddie is so stupid.

"Experiment, man, it doesn't have to mean anything, right?"

Right. It doesn't have to mean anything. He can have the former King of Hawkins High in his bed, gets to have Steve in his bed, and it won't mean anything. Can't mean anything.

There’s never even been a question what Eddie’s answer would be.

It'll be fine. Eddie can be fine with this.

"Okay, man. Yeah. Whatever. We can, y'know, experiment. What do you want to do?"

A long breath leaves Steve in something close to a sigh, as if he had been nervous, holding his breath in anticipation of Eddie's reaction. As if Eddie's answer meant something to him. As if Eddie would ever be able to say anything to him but yes.

It's probably just horniness, Eddie thinks. He knows Steve hasn't had a date in months, hasn't slept with anyone since before the whole Vecna and Apocalypse thing happened. He knows this because Steve told him, unprompted, unwanted, but listening with bated breath. Eddie was a glutton for punishment because he never stopped Steve from talking about the girls he dated, the kisses and the sex he missed, but apparently not enough to go out and get it. He's probably just tired of his own right hand.

Steve leans forward, using the hand still on Eddie's thigh for leverage while the hand on Eddie’s shoulder pulls him in before it slides up to Eddie’s neck. His mouth is inches from Eddie's as he whispers, "Touch me, Eddie.” before pressing them against Eddie’s.

It's everything he's dreamed of, everything he's wanted since Steve Harrington stumbled into his life and turned it upside down. Well, more upside down. But it's also too much, overwhelming in its suddenness, so he finds himself frozen like a deer in the headlights, not even pressing back, just staring at the beautiful boy in front of him like he's having an out of body experience. This was not supposed to happen, not outside of his dreams.

Steve whines against his unresponsive lips and bites the plush shape of his lower lip. "Eddie, please. Touch me."

It’s the please, sounding almost broken as it falls out of Steve’s mough, that breaks the spell like some kind of counter-curse. Eddie lurches forward and catches Steve's lips in a clumsy kiss. It's not like he really knows what he's doing, because while he's never made out with another guy, he's never made out with a girl either. It's not exactly his first kiss, but close enough. It's certainly the first one that means something, the first one he cares about making good.

Steve doesn't seem to care, only pressing harder against Eddie, sliding his tongue across Eddie's lips and grinning at the startled gasp that falls from Eddie's mouth. Steve takes the opportunity to deepen their kiss and Eddie can't help but moan at the wet heat of Steve's tongue sliding past his parted lips and into his mouth. The sensation is foreign, but so damn good. His hand finds its way to the back of Steve's neck, sliding up his nape and grasping the fine hair there. Tugging on it purely on instinct, earning himself a broken whimper.

Touch me, Eddie.

Your wish is my command, Eddie thinks as his other hand pushes up Steve's shirt and finds the thick patch of chest hair that keeps taunting him from the neckline of Steve’s goddamn polo shirt. It's maddening to have it right in front of him every day and not be able to bury his face in it like he wants to. He still doesn't dare, but he lets his nails scratch at the skin underneath and his fingers play with the coarse hair as they begin to wander and explore Steve's chest.

It's hard to keep track of things when Steve keeps kissing him like he's trying to take Eddie apart with just his mouth. He's currently luring Eddie's tongue into his own mouth, sucking on it like he's starving and Eddie's tongue is the only thing that can save him. It's a fuckin' distraction, but it's also the best thing he’s ever felt, has him already so hard it hurts where his dick presses against the stiff material of his jeans.

He shouldn't have gone commando, but it's laundry day.

In school, he's always had trouble prioritizing things. Everything was equally important — band practice, Hellfire, and technically schoolwork. It's the same here. He wants to focus on kissing Steve silly, but he also really, really wants to find out how much skin he can get away with touching before Steve ends their little experiment.

It's the thought that this might be his only chance to find out how Steve feels under his hands that decides it. He slows his own kisses, letting Steve take over for now, while he continues to wander his fingers, letting them find Steve's nipple and give it an experimental stroke with his thumb. It pebbles underneath, a hard bundle of nerves begging to be played with.

His heavy lidded eyes lift to Steve's face to gauge his reaction, and finding Steve biting his lower lip, pupils dilated and eyelids at half-mast, Eddie takes that as a good sign.

So he does it again, harder. Hears Steve's breathing quicken, so he licks his thumb and adds some spit to make the glide easier. And that? That elicits a throaty moan from Steve, a sound he's never heard before, and it goes straight to his dick. If he's not careful, this will be over embarrassingly fast.

Eddie has always been a curious guy. He likes to just try shit out and see what happens. It's an approach that seems to extend to the bedroom because he has no idea what he's doing here, but that doesn't stop him — if anything, it makes him bolder, more daring. Hungrier.

He's fascinated by how sensitive Steve's nipples seem to be, how responsive Steve is to having them played with, so he pinches one of them between his thumb and forefinger next, and the result will be featured in so many wet dreams to come. Steve arches his back as if he's being electrocuted, choking out a broken moan so needy and raw that it makes Eddie squeeze his legs together in a desperate attempt to stave off his own orgasm.

"You're a wet dream, Harrington, moaning like a fucking whore for it. Anyone ever tell you that?" Eddie can't help but ask, his mouth running away from him as it tends to do. All that blood rushing south from his brain makes him stupid.

How did he ever get so lucky? If this is his reward for being willing to sacrifice himself to save the world, he feels like he's being royally rewarded. Another pun fully intended.

"Shut up, fuck, just shut up." Steve says, begs really, no heat behind his words. He almost sounds — desperately turned on by Eddie’s words. Huh. Eddie squirrels the thought away for later, when he can dissect it in peace while touching himself to the memory of Steve's sounds.

They both stop kissing, at least for now, so Eddie leans his forehead against Steve's and they both watch as Eddie's hand moves down, inch by agonizing inch, following the inviting trail of dark hair that runs from Steve's chest to where it disappears under the waistband of his boxers. As if a flimsy barrier of cotton could keep Eddie from where he so desperately wants to go.

Dipping his fingers under the material, he's delighted to find more coarse hair and the leaky head of Steve's cock, straining against its confines. The second his ring finger touches the hot flesh, it jerks and Eddie licks his lips in anticipation, transfixed by the sight through the almost see-through, soaked material covering the tip of Steve's dick.

The movement of Eddie's tongue seems to jolt Steve out of his own reverie, his eyes tearing away from Eddie's hand as he moves back in to capture Eddie's lips once more in a searing kiss, this one slower, deeper. Eddie would be lying if he said he has never thought about what King Steve is like in bed, what turns him on, what he likes to do to his partners. He doesn't know about King Steve, but this Steve? This Steve loves to kiss. It honestly surprises Eddie, in the best way possible.

Eddie's hand dips further, pushing away the offensive material and freeing Steve's cock. He wishes he could see it, see his hand grasp the shaft and slide along the silky smooth skin, but his current position doesn’t allow for it and he can’t bring himself to part with Steve’s lips, not even for this. Maybe it's better that he can't. It keeps him from overthinking it — this way it's almost like jerking off, only with a bigger dick, because goddamn, all those rumors about King Steve's royal rod? Absolutely true.

But he can't get a good rhythm. It's too dry, making the slide bumpy and uncomfortable. Steve seems to agree, because his hand leaves Eddie's neck to reach behind him, rummaging blindly through his bedside table drawer while still kissing Eddie, pulling him along with the magnetism of his eager mouth until he finds what he's looking for.

A bottle of lube.

Steve opens the cap with one hand while the other is still on Eddie's thigh, where it has moved higher, gently stroking along the inseam of his jeans. It has already wandered dangerously close to the hard outline of Eddie's dick, and Eddie knows that once it reaches its target, the game is over. Game, set and match.

That's why he moves to tuck Steve's boxers under his balls and reaches for some lube with his other hand. Eddie doesn't want to hurry, wants to draw this out as long as Steve will allow Eddie to touch him. But even more than that, he wants Steve to come first, to hide from Steve how hot and bothered Steve's own pleasure is making Eddie. He can't let Steve know how the breathy little moans and whimpers, the ragged breathing against his spit-slicked lips, are enough to drive Eddie crazy and make him come untouched any minute now.

Thank God they're on the same page here. Steve squirts some lube on Eddie's outstretched palm and he reaches for Steve's hard dick again, spreading the lube over it, enjoying the smooth glide, the wet squelching sounds as his hand picks up speed. They've stopped kissing to deal with the lube issue, but now that it's done, Steve finds his lips once more and they continue to lick into each other's mouths as Eddie strokes Steve in earnest. His mouth has begun to ache in the best way, as has his wrist.

He welcomes the pain as proof that this is really happening.

"Eddie." His name falls from Steve's lips in a tone that comes straight from Eddie's wettest dreams. Needy. Breathless. In awe of how Eddie makes him feel, and it goes to Eddie's head. Goes to his dick, too, makes his balls tighten. "Eddie, I'm close. I'm so close."

"It's okay, Steve, you can come. It's fine." It isn't. It will be over after that. The end of their experiment. But that's what they agreed to. It's Eddie's own goddamn fault if he's not fine.

"Nuh-uh." Steve starts to shake his head, and it spreads to the rest of his body, which starts to tremble with his efforts to hold himself back. He almost looks in pain and Eddie can’t have that, only ever wants Steve to feel good.

"What do you need, what is it, tell me. Let me give it to you." Too much, he thinks. You always give too much, Eddie.

But Steve had carried him out of hell, literally out of hell. He would give Steve everything. Everything, and it still wouldn't be enough.

"I need you to come too, Eddie. Come on. Want to feel it." And his treacherous hand finally reaches for Eddie's aching dick where it strains against his jeans to eagerly meet Steve's hand. "Please, Eddie. Together." Steve presses the heel of his hand against the hot flesh, rubbing up and down exactly twice before Eddie comes in his fucking pants like the virgin he is.

He whines deep in his throat, then grunts. The sound shouldn't be sexy, but it's what pushes Steve over the edge, spurts of cum landing on his belly and getting caught in his treasure trail. Good thing I pulled up his shirt, Eddie thinks to himself as he keeps pumping Steve's dick, milking the release from it, unable to stop touching Steve. Steve whines when it gets to be too much, nerve endings too sensitive for any kind of touch, so Eddie lets him go, even if he doesn’t want to.

Exhausted, Steve's head comes to rest in the crook of Eddie's neck as he tries to catch his breath. His breath tickles him and cools his overheated skin even more quickly.

Eddie has come all over his hands and, lacking anything to wipe them with, wipes them on Steve's sheets. It's a testament to how out of it Steve is that he doesn't even bitch at Eddie about it, just continues to huff against his skin.

Steve's ragged breathing slows after a minute or two, but his head stays where it is on Eddie's shoulder, Steve's nose pressed against the sweaty skin between Eddie's neck and collarbone. Eddie has never felt closer to another person in his entire life and it terrifies him.

"So. Are you satisfied with our experiment? Did you sate your curiosity?" Eddie is a masochist, it seems, presenting his stomach and inviting Steve to stick the blade where it hurts.

Steve sighs, contented.

"Yeah, man, that was good. Still a few questions though." His speech is slurred and Eddie suspects that Steve is one of those guys who is too out of it after an orgasm to do much else but sleep.

He's proven right when he feels Steve's body sagging against his and little snuffling sounds coming from Steve. He's fallen asleep, leaving Eddie to freak out in peace.

How considerate.

Also on AO3.

My undying thanks and love to my partners in crime, @yournowheregirl and @legitcookie for cheering me on and being the absolute joys that they are 💜

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #my writing #nsft #there are two more parts planned but this can stand alone just fine #thank you Jen and Alice for polishing those dicks with me lol #I don't even know how to write without you anymore #💜💜💜

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notfreetoday · 9 months

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MPW Ep 2 Subtitle Corrections

Subtitle Corrections: Ep 1 here

Cultural/Language Tidbits: Ep 2 here

Same translation disclaimer applies. Thanks to everyone reading the first post and geeking out with me in the notes, I really appreciate it XD Ok, Ep 2, let's go! Sorry in advance for the length!

If you're wondering why Yoh's freaking out about the rainy season even though they've been together for 3 years, the manga artist posted a clarification on twitter:

By the way, “it’s been 3 years since then” – that phrase refers to it being 3 years since that conversation regarding the slave contract. As for living together, they’ve only just started (to do so) around Mar/April*, so (at this point) it’s only been a few months (for them). What if (I) got it wrong…. I remember making a note of it, but the file that I wrote it in and passed over (to the crew) couldn’t be found right, so… (was it) a dream?” *Japan's rainy season comes around June/July, so this means that this is the first rainy season these two have been experienced together.

[Y: まずっ] Y: Tastes bad In case the original "that sucks" sounds like Yoh might be talking about the news of the young forecaster - he's really just talking about the food here.

[S: 遅くなるからいらねぇっつっただろう] Original: I told you not to bother since I returned late Mine: I told you I wouldn't need it cause I'd be late right? This is actually a pretty harsh sounding line tbh. It's sort of inkeeping with Segasaki's curtness, but still pretty harsh - so this tells us he's tired after a long day, and explains the frown on his face that Yoh just wipes away with his cuteness

Nikujaga literally means meat and potatoes. It's a stewed dish and a very well-loved comfort food. Super easy to make too (link goes to an easy to follow recipe, and the site also explains a little about the dish).

[Y: 本当、顔だけはいいよな] Y: Really, it's only his face that looks good.

I've talked about this in my cultural/language tidbits for this episode (linked up top) but I'll add it here for completion's sake

[Y: あ、いや。なんでもない…です*] (Ah, iya, nandemonai…desu*) Y: Ah, no, it's….nothing* Yoh let's his sentence trail off before tacking on a "desu" at the end. "Desu" is an ending verb characteristic of "polite" speech, which Yoh doesn't use frequently with Segasaki (in fact, by this point, he has not used polite speech with Segasaki at all, except for maybe saying the full form of the word "welcome home", and even that's pushing it). Here he adds it at the end as an afterthought (the polite form of "iya" would be "iie", if he had wanted the whole sentence to be polite from the get go), which tells us that Yoh's feeling a little off-kilter here, and does introduce the slightest distance between him and Segasaki. We'll see this distance increase as the episode goes on.

[Y: いや、どう考えても食べ過ぎだろう] Y: No but, no matter which way you look at it, (he's) eaten way too much hasn't he? Btw, if your hair started standing at the spoon scraping the pot - in the manga artist's post about visiting the shooting venue (as well as during Ep 1 twitter space) it was mentioned that Mashiko, the actor, can actually cook, so during filming they had to tell him what someone who can't would likely do, and also asked him to do the housework poorly (because Yoh's not supposed to be good at cooking or housework hahaha)

この人*、明日も朝早いんだよな。たぶん。 Original: This guy, has an early morning again tomorrow. Probably. Mine: This person*, has (to leave) early tomorrow morning too. Probably. *The word here is "kono hito", literally "this person". There's actually nothing wrong with the translation "this guy" tbh because that's a fairly neutral term in English, but I'm highlighting it here because in his monologues, Yoh usually refers to Segasaki using much rougher language, such as "koitsu, aitsu", except when he addresses Segasaki directly in his head. I'll talk more about how Yoh addresses Segasaki in the analysis post, but for now - this sentence hints that Yoh has clocked Segasaki's tiredness (subconsciously or not) and is feeling a little bad for him. Then again he quickly hides that by adding on "probably". (Adding the word "probably" behind your sentence is a common way to express doubt/negate what you just said, and incidentally is commonly used by comedians to deliver a punchline).

[Y: あの*…あの…寝るなら部屋でとおもって。] Original: Um… Hey… You should go back to your room. Mine: Um*... Um... if you're going to sleep then, (it would be better to sleep) in your room - at least that's what I thought...

*"あの…" (ano…), translated as "um" here, is a common sound you use when you want to get someone's attention but don't want to sound too demanding - it actually isn't being polite per se, but it does show the hesitancy with which Yoh approaches him. Contrast this with the way Segasaki gets Yoh's attention (so far it's just been "Yoh" or "Oi" - the latter of which you would NOT use unless you were close to the person, or looking for a fight).

As a general rule of thumb, the level of politeness in Japanese is directly correlated with the length of the sentence and just how far you can beat around the bush. So, Yoh's suggestion that Segasaki goes to sleep in his room is literally just "if sleeping, then room..." and everything else in that translation is assumed. He may not being using polite speech forms here (that would be "to omoimashita" instead of "to omotte") but this is still a common way to be polite because he's making a suggestion that is so mild Segasaki can choose to ignore it. This is a great example of Brown & Levinson's "negative politeness" which we'll revisit when analysing their speech patterns, and which you can read about in entirely too much detail here (free to read).

[Y: じゅあ、俺は寝るので** あの、その、そういうことで、おやすみ] Original: Then, I’ll go to sleep. That…sort of thing. Good night. Mine: So then, I'm going to bed, therefore**... Um... that... with that... night!

"Therefore" is an awkward translation for the word ので (node), which is more often translated as "so". I've chosen to use that word because "node", whilst again not a polite form per se, is less colloquial than the more commonly used "から(kara)", to mean the same thing. It tends to pop up more in writing than in speech. "Therefore" doesn't make a sentence polite/formal in English, but it's definitely less colloquial than using the word "so". The use of "node" is just that tiny bit out of place in this sentence paired with the informal pronoun "ore" for "I" as opposed to the more formal choice of "boku".

Again, Yoh answers Segasaki properly here with a "はい (hai)" as opposed to his usual "un" (which is a sound that expresses agreement), when told that Segasaki will be late again. There actually aren't very many moments where Yoh does speak politely to Segasaki (he's definitely rude when he talks about Segasaki in his head hahaha), so these moments stand out. This whole short exchange, together with the random -desu he added earlier, just make Yoh's sentences a little more stilted/awkward, and more distant. Individually they don't deserve much mention at all, but together, and in the context of his jealousy, show just how unsure Yoh is about where he stands with Segasaki.

[Y: あの人の帰宅が遅くなり] Y: That person returned home later and later

"That person" - similar to the above usage of "this person". This sentence is incomplete - the verb form of the last word - 遅くなり (osokunari) indicates that there should be a second part to the sentence (the "completed" form would be osokunatta). But after he says this, there is a pregnant pause, as Yoh puts his phone down and continues cooking alone. The pause continues all the way into the next scene, before the sentence continues, highlighting the loneliness that Yoh feels.

[Y: 当然、触れられることもないままに] Original: Of course, he did not touch me at all Mine: (and) of course, (I) remained untouched (by him) as well

The literal translation for this would be "(the situation in which I) was not touched (by him) continued on as well". Yoh uses the passive form of the word "touch", which places the emphasis on Yoh "receiving" the action of being touched as opposed to placing the emphasis on Segasaki "carrying out" the action of touching Yoh. Consider the difference between the sentences "I was hurt by him" and "he hurt me". The former is the passive form, and is super common in Jp, much less common in Eng. If this is confusing - welcome to Jp grammar just know that the emphasis of this line is more on what Yoh does not have, rather than what Segasaki has not done. It accentuates Yoh's feelings of emptiness and loss.

Y: すっかり日々は過ぎて Y: The days pass by completely ...

Similarly, this sentence is "incomplete", and is instead continued by Segasaki walking in and telling Yoh he'll be late again. (This whole bit just hurts my soul tbh, Yoh is so lonely. )

This is a teruteru bouzu aka a charm of sorts for good weather. See the cultural tidbits post for Ep 2 linked up top for more info!

This is said really strongly, and gives the "what the hell are you doing" feel. Yoh's truly upset here.

I try not to care about some of the subs in these side conversations because they don't add much to the main story and these posts are already too long, but this sentence should really be "Dammit, maybe I should (go) troll the chat" (and the previous sentence should be "If this was broadcasted in a certain country it would be instant death" aka N.Korea ^^;) and I just think it was a nice touch to hint at the fandom wars/flaming that goes on between fans hahaha

[Y: しんどい] Y: This is too draining The word here used is "shindoi", which is a term used when you're feeling mentally/physically exhausted/drained, and carries a sense of frustration (at feeling this way) and sometimes (emotional) pain.

This. Is. Huge. Segasaki does 2 things here - one, he rejects an after-work meal, which you rarely do because Japan is all about the group and rejecting a group invite, to welcome a new member, can make you seem like you aren't a team player - two, the guy who invites him is his senior, which you can tell because Segasaki sticks to polite speech forms whilst the other guy does not. It's still relatively casual, so you can tell he's got a good working relationship with them (probably why he's not worried about rejecting them) but still. In Segasaki's world, Yoh is the No. 1 priority.

This is more accurately "WTF". There are many sounds in Japanese that aren't exactly words, but carry a lot of meaning - "Haa?!" is one of them, and is a very rude way to express a lot of anger and shock. Please, never say this in real life. You will royally piss off whoever it's directed at and if you are outside a Shibuya bar you will get punched.

The word used here is てめぇ (temee), which is a really rude way to say "you", and has the same energy as "you bastard". Segasaki usually uses the informal pronoun "omae" for "you" when he talks to Yoh, he's definitely pissed off here.

This is the same word, "shindoi" again.

I'm going to put the rest of the whole argument here with just my translation because it's too long to screencap the whole thing.

[S: 何なんだよ？このエロい惨状は Y: うるさい。 Y: 俺は売れっ子エロ漫画家になるんだ S: なんだそりゃ。おい *takes away beer can* Y: 売れっ子さんが　シコリながらネーム描くと　いいのができるって言ってた S: なんも描けてなかったぞ。 S: おい、だめだっつってんの S: 飲みすぎ　出すもん出して　寝てただけだろう Y: 黙れ！ Y: 俺はエロくて　抜ける漫画描いて　いっぱい稼いで Y: 早く　こんなとこ出ていくんだ S: はあ？　おい、お前　どういうつもりだよ Y: どうもこうもないよ！ Y: 平気で抱かれてると思うなよ。 Y: 俺のこと、好きでもないくせに Y: 便利な奴隷としか思ってないんだろう？そんなにやりたきゃ隣のキャスターとやってろよ S: お前　さっきから　何を... Y: 俺はあんな風に笑いかけられたことない]

Breakdown: S: What's up with this? This lewd disaster of a scene Y: (You're) annoying! ["うるさい (urusai)" is often translated as "shut up", but it literally means someone is being "noisy", and here is more of a complaint that Segasaki is being bothersome] Y: I'm going to become a hot-selling erotica manga artist! [the word used here is 売れっ子 (urekko), which literally means "someone who gets huge sales" and mostly refers to idols, entertainers, TV personalities etc. So Yoh is not just saying he's going to become popular, he's saying he's gonna be like a celebrity manga artist, which is why Segasaki snorts a little at this] S: What's with that? Hey. *takes away beer can* Y: The hot sellers say that if you jerk off whilst drawing your storyboard, you'll come up with good stuff [urekko-san is a pretty cute way of referring to these popular artists] S: You've not drawn anything, you know? [this is said with a really indulgent air, which contrasts directly with the more authoritative tone of the next line] S: Hey, I'm telling you no more *grabs beer can* S: You drank too much. You just shot what you shot and then went to sleep didn't you? [And this is back to an indulgent tone - also, everyone knows Segasaki is talking about cumming here, he just doesn't actually say it so directly] Y: Shut up! ["黙れ (damare) - contrast with "urusai" earlier. The former is used much less commonly and really does mean to "be quiet". This is why Segasaki pauses and looks at Yoh. Up until now Segasaki just thinks Yoh's gotten drunk and is whining cutely, but this word means things are serious.] Y: I'm going to draw manga that is erotic, that you can wank off to, and then earn lots of money [this is a call back to the conversation with Man-san over the phone in Ep 1, which I did not include earlier because I didn't think it was important to the story when Yoh says "the work that was released last month was amazing! There was a big buzz around the topic "I can't wank off (to this)" - Yoh was being sarcastic here, meaning that he got reviews that his work wasn't erotic enough] Y: and leave this sort of place soon! S: What? Hey - what (the hell) are you thinking? [Again, "haa?" here shows he does NOT like what Yoh's saying, but he does soften the end of the sentence with a "yo"] Y: I'm not thinking of anything! Y: Embracing me so easily - don't think you can (keep on) doing that [again, this is the passive form, so the emphasis is on Yoh being embraced, and here has the nuance of "don't think I'll just (keep on) being fine with being embraced (by you) like it's some sort of norm"] Y: when you don't even like me [this line has quite a bit of bitterness in it - the emphasis here is strongly on Segasaki and his apparent "non-liking" of Yoh my english is dying.] Y: You think of me as just a convenient slave, don't you? Y: If you want to do it that much, go do it with that forecaster next to you! S: You... from the start... what have (you been saying?) Y: I have never been smiled at like that before [again, this is in passive voice]

It's obvious from the acting alone that this entire argument is pretty emotionally charged - this is also reflected in the language because Yoh uses the pronoun "ore (I)" a lot. Pronouns are frequently dropped in Japanese - often you can go an entire conversation without ever uttering the words "I/me" or "you", in part because the pronouns are assumed and also because emphasis on an individual can come across as too selfish/narcissistic or direct. Segasaki uses them often enough with Yoh, which fits his personality, but Yoh normally doesn't. So, when he uses "ore" here it stands out - his plans to be successful and leave, his feelings, his interpretation of Segasaki's actions - all of the emphasis is on his own self. The message is very clear - Yoh is hurting a lot more than he is blaming or accusing Segasaki.

[Y: もう疲れた。あんたといると疲れる。嫌いだ S: お前　酒入るとめちゃくちゃしゃべるんだな Y: ねぇ、何で雨の時はだめなの？ S: はあ？　だって、お前が言っ��んだろう] Y: (I'm) tired out. When (I'm) with you, (I) get tired. Hate it. [We've lost the "I" pronouns here, because the emphasis is on the extreme sense of physical and emotional fatigue as opposed to Yoh himself, and on how much he dislikes that feeling. Of note, "hate" here is closer to "detest/really dislike" - the word is "kirai" - which is not as strong as the word "nikui" which we talked about in Ep 1 when Yoh said he hated the part of him that always listened to Segasaki. Also, this is the first time Yoh has addressed Segasaki with the pronoun "you" out loud - he uses "あんた anta", which he also used in his head in Ep 1, after they did it. Again, we'll talk about this in the analysis post in the future, but for now just know that this term is usually used between older couples.] S: You... once you start drinking you really start talking huh? [literally, you "become able to talk"] Y: Hey...why is it when it rains, (we) can't do it? S: What? Because, you said so didn't you? [the last "haa?" from Segasaki! This time expressing his surprise and slight indignation.]

[S: 俺は優しいんだ] S: I. am. Kind. Great example of Segasaki's use of the "ore" pronoun here to quite literally emphasise how great he is. "優しい (kind)" in Japanese carries the connotation of being thoughtful, anticipating the other person's needs and wants and then meeting them etc. It's a characteristic that people often say they look for in their potential partners.

[S: そもそも、なんだ先の言いぐさは好きじゃないだの　出ていきたいだのお前　俺のプロポーズを受けといてよくそんなことが言えんな S: 養ってやる*っつってんだ　プロポーズ以外になに] S: In the first place, what was with those things you said earlier? That you don't like me, that you want to leave... You... that was rich, saying all that after accepting my proposal. S: I was saying I'd provide and care* for you. If that's not a proposal than what is? ["養ってやる" is a pretty possessive way to say I'll provide for you - it's the same word used when referring to parent providing for a child, or an owner providing for a small animal. It's not rude per se, but it does imply a power imbalance. Segasaki actually sort of has a point here because... this is not something you say to someone else unless you're in a relationship ^^;]

S: ていうかお前、俺のこと嫌いなんだ S: どうなの S: Actually about that... so you hate me huh? S: Which is it?

S: ふーん。あ、そ S: Ohh..? I see. ふーん (Ohh..?) - Segasaki says this a lot, especially in this episode. This is another one of those sounds that isn't a word but carries a lot of meaning. It has a dismissive sort of tone to it, like you've already assumed something or when you're pretty nonchalant/not impressed about whatever the other person has said and are just playing along with them by giving them some attention (so again, if you use it wrongly, it can piss people off). Segasaki uses it whenever Yoh goes mute or shy, as a way to tease Yoh - though Yoh seems to think Segasaki is dismissing/not interested in his answer. あ、そ (A, so) - again, Segasaki says this a lot - can be interpreted as "oh really?/I see/is that so?" - Combined with the above, you can see why Yoh often thinks Segasaki isn't interested in his answer, and even when he does recognise it as teasing, he gets too flustered to do anything about it.

This seems to have gotten longer, if you reached the end - congratulations! I hope this makes it a little clearer why it's so obvious to us as the viewer that Segasaki is really quite patient with Yoh, and is waiting for him to come to terms with his feelings, but at the same time so confusing for Yoh, because of the way many of these interactions can be read both ways. In Ep 3, we'll really be able to get into their dynamics because they've got so much more interaction together.

#my personal weatherman #taikan yohou #体感予報 #MPW subtitle corrections #mytranslations #finally got it out #doing a breakdown of the argument was very fun #this is like the most indulgent t/n ever #i am indulging myself the same way segasaki indulges yoh #thanks to everyone for reading my indulgent notes #please geek out with me more #these two are so perfect for each other #sorry I wanted to get Ep 3 and the analysis out before Ep 4 but it's not happening

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clubdionysus · 12 days

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[BAD DECISION #25] January

warnings: we get jaykay in his student era!!! poor baby is STRESSED!! very wholesome!! b makes him pasta, very lovely <33 until very suddenly it's not!! fingering, mentions of the erotic accordion, lots of teasing. a personal fave!!

wc: 12.5k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

It's a pleasant surprise to see Kim Taehyung with his clothes on.

His cheeks are still a little warm when he strolls into the art cafe, well aware that it was his other cheeks you'd been confronted with when you'd seen him last.

Hands in pockets, he plays it off. Is cool and casual, in that suave way artists so often are.

"If you're looking for Danbi, we only live together. Don't work together. Think you'll find her at Memorial Park with half a dozen dogs, maybe" you tease.

He rolls his eyes, and continues forward to the main desk. When he reaches it, he leans an elbow down and looks quite at home. Dressed in a pair of dark slacks and cream button-up, he's a business-casual Capricorn's wet dream. It's entirely understandable why Danbi couldn't resist. You're surprised it's taken her this long, if anything.

"If it was Danbi I was after, it'd be Danbi I was with," he assures you, smile ever-present. He's charming; not like a sleazebag, but like a Disney prince. Always says the right thing. "And anyways, I know she's there. Just been there, myself."

You smile, pleased for your best friend.

It makes sense. She's been with him every night since New Year's. Your apartment has actually been a little lonely.

A week on since you were greeted with his bare arse, you're curious as to why Taehyung would be gracing you with his presence. It wouldn't be entirely out of character, but you are also aware that the last time he was here, it was to pitch his art show.

You remind him of this - not that he needs it, as he passes a business card over to you, embossed with a since hangul syllable: 류.

"Ryu?" You ask. "As in the gallery?"

He nods. "Ryu Gallery."

It's mid-size, a little out of town, but well-respected. Was one of the many galleries that simply didn't get back to Tae - but you have an acquaintance who works there. A friend of Seokjin's, actually. Involved in the finance side of the company. Had invited him along because you figured that there was no harm in asking. Didn't really expect him to show up.

Pulling his phone from his front pocket, Taehyung says nothing as he loads up his call history. At the top, there's a red number - one missed call - and a small play button next to what you assume is a voicemail. He presses down on it, and lets it play out.

"Hello, this is Park Shinwon from Ryu Gallery. I was passed your information by one of our colleagues, and was wondering if you had availability for a call regarding your work? We have an opening at the end of the month and are looking for a local artist to fill the space. If you think this could be a good fit for you, please call me back at the earlie-"

Taehyung cuts the voicemail short. You've heard all the important stuff.

There's a smile on your face; one that brewed gently as the memo played out. He'd done it. The write-ups and reviews had been fantastic, and Namjoon had helped get Taehyung a decent spot in the arts & culture section of the local paper, but this is the first solid indication that the show had been prosperous.

"Holy shit," you beam, clapping your hands together in tiny little pats of joy.

"Right?!" He beams right back. Phone locked and back in his pocket, Taehyung's never looked prouder of himself. You don't know him like you know Jimin or Jeongguk, but you know him well enough to understand how huge this is for him. "I can't even begin to thank yo-"

"No!" You laugh, reaching across the counter to squeeze his arm. "Don't you dare. It was your hard work, Tae. You did this! Congratulations!"

A little bashful in the way he looks down, it's clear that he's not used to such high praise. It's something he'll have to get used to, you think. This is just the start for him. He's destined for greats, you're sure of it - but then again, you have unwavering faith in everyone you care about. You'll manifest for them; will their dreams into reality. You're not sure if it works, but it's nice to think it does.

"Did you call back? What did you say?" You enthuse, before a couple comes to the counter with their finished artwork. Gritting your teeth, you cast Taehyung an apologetic smile. "Ah, just give me a moment."

He nods, and tells you to carry on. He knows he's interrupted you at work and feels bad for it. He could have just waited until he came around that evening (Danbi had already asked if he would), but was too nervous about the call.

When you return from packing up the canvases and ringing through the bill, he admits to it.

"Haven't actually called them yet," he grits his teeth together, eyes apologetic. "Didn't know what to say. It's kinda why I'm here."

"Oh?"

"You can say no," he prefaces, "but like... I don't know the first fucking thing about the suit side of the art world. Don't know how to negotiate, don't even know if that is something I need to be doing. I'm a fish out of water. and you're the only person I know - and trust - who seems to have any clue what they're doing."

It's really sweet that he thinks you have any idea at all. You just wing it a solid seventy percent of the time. You have connections, and you have a functioning brain. That's about it.

Still, you'll let him think that you have your wits about you.

"So..." you encourage, trying to coax a proper question out of him. You know what he's asking, but really think that all of Jeongguk's ragtag bunch of friends could do with learning how to ask for what they want. Maybe not Yoongi. He seems to have shit figured out.

"So..." Taehyung imitates, a friendly grin on his face. He's pretty. Really isn't hard to see why Danbi likes him. She's always gone for the artsy types. Likes to be a muse. "I was wondering if you could help me out a bit? Sort of like an agent, but not quite, 'cause I'm poor as fuck and definitely can't afford it."

"Agents work on commission," you tell him. "Or at least some of them do, so it doesn't matter that you're poor now."

"Well, I might never be rich," he warns you.

Taehyung believes in his work. Loves his work. Is yet to have success that reflects this. Other people don't seem to feel as strongly about it, which leaves him with lingering doubt as to whether or not he actually has something , or if it's all a bit of a vanity project. He hopes it's not. Knows that Rome wasn't built in a day, mind you.

It takes dedication. A hard grind. He's got grit and determination, but the doors he's knocked at have been double-bolted. Thinks that maybe you could give him a key.

"I doubt that very much," you say regarding his doubts.

Of all the work showcased at the last show, it was his pieces that people kept coming back to. His pieces tagged in the art cafe's Instagram by customers. His pieces that sold; that got people interested. You had even had a girl in the cafe on a date a few weeks ago, who painted a replica of one of Tae's prints, which had been hanging on the wall beside her.

He's got talent.

But he knows that's not enough.

"Still, I didn't even realise agents were paid that way. I've no idea what on earth I'm doing, Disco Ball. Not really."

You take a moment to consider the proposition, but you aren't sure why. It's a no-brainer. Of course you'll help him out. You've contacts, thanks to your job, and acquaintances with money to spend thanks to Seokjin. You'll be an invaluable resource for him - and he'd much rather have a friend leading him through this unchartered territory than someone who only cares about numbers and finances.

"I'll make you a deal," you offer. "I'll help you, free of charge, but on one condition."

"Go on..."

You beam; smile so sweet that Taehyung knows your compromise is probably unconventional.

"I get a Kim Taehyung original."

"It won't be worth anything," he laughs. "It's a rotten deal."

"Not yet, maybe, but it will be," you tell him.

Much like Jeongguk's dreams, you believe in Taehyung's, too. Have no doubt he will achieve success. He's a Capricorn. Is just what they do.

"Alright," he agrees. Holds out his hand for you to shake. "I'll give you a free commission. You can redeem it at any time. Anything, any size, doesn't matter. It's yours."

He makes a mental note to revise this deal as you shake his hand. Doesn't think it's entirely fair on you. Thinks that he's benefitting far more from this than you will - but good, original artworks within your budget are hard to come by. You know your future self will thank you for this.

You tell Taehyung to arrange a meeting with the consultant at Ryu Gallery.

"I'll go with you as a representative; will ask the right questions, stuff like that. The key here is to not sell yourself short or undervalue your work. If you sell a million-dollar piece for a hundred bucks, it'll set a precedent. People will take advantage. It'll be detrimental."

He nods, eager to learn. Willing to listen. Wants to succeed, and will do all he can to make sure it happens.

Departing only after you force him to call Ryu Gallery back and set a date in the calendar for next week, Taehyung is beyond appreciative. Both Danbi and Jeongguk had told him to reach out to you again, but he'd felt a little guilty, almost as if he was taking advantage of how charitable you are.

You don't really see it that way. Figure that if the roles were reversed, he'd do the same for you.

"Oh, just quickly!" Taehyung pipes up just as he reaches the door of the cafe. "The piece up in Jeongguk's living room - the black and gold one." Your face heats up. "Who's the artist?"

"Not sure," you shrug with an inconspicuous purse of your lips. "Why?"

"Jeongguk just said he got it from here," Taehyung explains, your cheeks only getting rosier and rosier. "I really like it so just wondered if it was part of a bigger collection."

"I can check," you say, knowing that there is absolutely no way you're ever gonna produce another one of those. Now that Tae's asking questions about it, you know Jeongguk needs to squirrel it away. The last thing you want is the truth coming out.

"Amazing," he beams.

You smile right back, but let it fade into a groan as he heads down the stairs, the realisation that he's seen the imprint of your tits leaving you mortified.

It's only fair though, you suppose. You have seen his arse, after all. Maybe you are more well acquainted than you realise.

The lives that you and Jeongguk had lived separately for many moons have somehow converged, meeting a diving point of intervention; as if you were meant to live your lives exactly as you have, just for moments like these.

This is only amplified when you arrive at Jeongguk's place after your shift finishes.

On New Year's day, after the creation of his sticky note shrine, origami birds watching proudly, you'd reached an agreement with Jeongguk: each and every one of the sticky notes have to be done by the end of the year.

"What about the birds?" Jeongguk had asked, not wanting to sacrifice them.

You both know the birds hold far more weight. The sticky notes are fun; a chance to experiment freely with somebody who is on the same page as you. The birds are all about preparing yourself to turn the page, so you can meet someone willing to start a new book with you.

Curled up in his bed, while Jeongguk had been sitting on his bedroom floor putting together a display box for a new 'sculpture' (because he refuses, still, to let you call them action figures) that he'd been gifted for Christmas, you had contemplated his question.

"The birds fall naturally," you'd hummed. "They drop when the universe needs them to. The sticky notes are deliberate. We're making the active choice to do them."

Cross-legged, Jeongguk reached over to get a small screwdriver from his bedside table. Your gaze had been up on the birds, but drifted down to him.

"So we'll make the active choice to do the sticky notes, and then just do the birds when they fall?" Jeongguk had clarified, not looking at you as he threaded a small screw into its hole.

"Yeah," you'd smiled. "Like, I come round once a week, and we get a sticky note done. Something like that."

Looking up at you now, Jeongguk had tilted his head in contemplation, pursing his lips before finally nodding. "Shall we say Sundays?"

With a slight sense of trepidation, but the awareness of this being good for you both, you had nodded. "Sundays. Trial it for the month of January. See how it goes."

And so now you're at Jeongguk's place for the first time since New Year's with a clear agenda - and yet all you really want to do is hang out with him. Innocently. Platonically.

"Oh thank God," Jimin breathes out with an overdramatic sigh of relief when he opens the door for you. Shoes on, jacket slung over his shoulders, he's been waiting on your arrival. "Jeongguk- '' he calls back into the darkness. None of the living area lamps are on, the city lights illuminating their apartment instead. "The babysitter is here! I'll be gone till morning. Don't be any trouble."

You roll your eyes, flicking his arm as you step past him into the apartment.

He's heading out for a family event down in Busan. Jeongguk had been intending on going to the city with him, but simply has too much school work to do.

Finals are coming up. He's stressed to the absolute high heavens.

"I will warn you," Jimin says quietly while you take off your shoes. "He's in a foul mood. Has been for, like, three days now. Think it's his time of the month."

"Still baffles me how you're able to pull," you mutter, knowing that any explanations on the intricacies of the menstrual cycle would be wasted on him - only for Jimin to remind you that he pulled you . "Was a moment of weakness," you assure him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say DB," he grins. "Look after him alright? Make sure he eats his veggies and brushes his teeth before bed."

Jimin departs faster than the winter wind that's howling against their windows. You don't even have a chance to question why he's treating Jeongguk like such a child - but as you walk into his bedroom, you sort of see why.

His bed's unmade, and he hasn't showered since, like, Thursday, maybe. Papers are scattered all over his desk, and there's a collection of takeout boxes by his door. The birds that were on his desk are now perched up on the shelf, laying in the middle of his chessboard. Beside them, a pot of your misplaced glitter sparkles in the dim light.

Quite unlike himself, Jeongguk's jaw looks sharper but his cheeks are bloated. You can tell he hasn't been eating nor drinking enough. Has a can of Monster on his desk, but you both know it's not enough to sustain him.

He really does look like a university student now, more than he ever has done before. Glasses on, hair tied in a tiny bun by the nape of his neck, teeth nibbling down on his bottom lip, the stress is evident in his sloped posture.

"Don't look at the mess," he mumbles, embarrassed that you have to see his room in this state, but also too preoccupied to really care.

You meander to his bed and sit down, one leg crossed beneath the other. Smile. "Too late."

"Sorry," he offers, but you shake your head - not that he's looking at you.

"S'fine," you hum. "If tonight is bad for you, we can always resched-"

"No," he says rather sharply, finally turning to look at you. His eyes are all wide and wanting, hating the idea of you leaving so soon, but they're also tired . He needs rest. "No, sorry." He puts down his pen, and turns in his chair a little. "I'm probably gonna be shitty company, but I'd like you to stay."

And so you nod. Of course you'll stay.

"Your hair looks sweet like this," you muse a little mindlessly as you come to stand by him, letting your index finger twirl in the curl that sticks out from the small bun.

His hair is always silky smooth, and you're envious of how well-nourished it is. A little curly, he definitely visits the salon every once in a while. You find it all very endearing, imagining him with a little salon cape around his shoulders, protectors over his ears, curlers in his hair.

"Needs a wash," he simply states, not wanting to dwell on the compliment that makes his tummy feel all funny. He's not really used to such delicate compliments.

Jiyeong would always comment on his physical strength, manliness, shit like that. Hardly surprising, given that she works at the gym. It's not just her though - Hayun's favourite part of him was always his upper arms.

He's no idea what you like about him. What attracts you to him - 'cause as much as you both like to pretend you're a bit repulsed by one another, there's obviously gotta be some sort of mutual attraction. The sex is too good.

Unless, he considers, it's all just chemical. Hormonal shit he doesn't understand, but knows plays an important role in chemistry. Maybe you aren't physically attracted to him at all.

"Wish my hair looked that good when it needs a wash," you sigh.

"I've never seen it look bad," he says, not thinking much of it.

"Well, I'd hope not," you smile. "I do know how to shower."

"I've got some things just to finish up - shit ," he curses as he realises just how much of a mess his room is. "I'm sorry. Been at work today, haven't you? Can grab a shower if you like, or something while I do this."

'This' is test revision. Coursework never really stresses him out, even if he does leave it until the last minute. He has more control over the variables. Exams make him nervous, and if there's one feeling Jeongguk hates, it's nervousness. Figures if he studies and studies and studies, then he'll feel prepared, and the nerves will ease. It never works. Only ever makes it worse.

"You sure?" you ask, though if you're being honest, a shower right now would be ideal. You got paint all over you at work, and while most of it washed off in the sink, you still feel a little less than fresh. "Or is this some backhanded way of telling me my hair looks shit?"

"Oh, 100%. You look awful. But also, yes. I'm sure," he smiles, soft eyes patient as he tries to push the pressure of his studies to the back of his mind. He hasn't seen you all week. Has missed you. Is glad you're here. Kinda hates that he's telling you to leave him, already, even if it's only for twenty minutes or so.

"Gonna join?" You ask, not really thinking much of it. Just a habit, now.

Jeongguk shakes his head. "Will get one later."

There are two distinct halves to Jeongguk's fear of rejection. The obvious, most notable half is the part of him that hates the feeling of being rejected, which prevents him from asking for what he wants.

Far less discussed is the part of him that feels like he always has to say yes, because he doesn't ever want to make other people feel bad.

Just like he never fears rejection from you, he doesn't fear your reaction to his rejection, either. There's a stable foundation to your friendship. It's good for him.

So used to transactional relationships with the girls he's slept with - on their part, not his - he doesn't really realise that this - what you two have - is normal. It's how it should be.

And so when you smile, and say 'okay', Jeongguk almost expects you to start fighting with him.

It's been a few days since he spoke with Jiyeong ( where it was firmly established that she ended it with him, and that he was the problem, not her) but lingering patterns of behaviour still plague his mind. Feelings of failure still reside in the part of his brain that deals with desire.

You believe him when he says he won't join. Don't try and tempt. Tonight isn't about that - though you do glance over to the myriad of sticky notes on his bedroom wall before you grab his towel. Pay no notice to the fact there's a new one. Just as fluffy - exactly the same, you think - it's still wrapped in a sleek bow with the tag on it.

Maybe he's gotten annoyed with how often you use it. Maybe you're just such a permanent fixture that two seems like a good idea. You don't ask about it.

Instead, you also grab one of his shirts - the one with his hand prints on it. Paint markers have been taken to the shirts since, now outlining where his bones would be. The skeleton hands make you laugh - but they also get you thinking about that shower with him.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you leave Jeongguk to get on with his studies.

As you start the shower up and relieve your hair from the claw clip it's up in, you aren't too concerned with him joining. You genuinely do want to shower. Leave the door open just in case, but don't wait for him like you did the last time you were in the same position.

It turns out showers are far quicker when you're solo. You leave it without the feel of his hands on your body, but the scent of his strawberry shower gel still stains your skin. Feels like you're perpetually covered in him, in a roundabout way.

Scrunching your hair with his towel as you head back into his room, your clothes are still in a pile on his bathroom floor. You're just in the shirt now, bra foregone, underwear on to maintain some kind of decency.

You don't really greet him, instead heading to the window to take in the view. You're always envious of the skyline. It makes you consider moving closer to the inner city - but you're quite comfortable in your low-rise with Danbi. Plus, you can always just come and hang out here if you find yourself missing it.

Jeongguk says nothing as he comes to stand in behind you; personal space void of any meaning between the pair of you. Chin resting on your head, he drapes his arms over your shoulders.

You whisper a small greeting, and he whispers one back, but neither of you make conversation. Instead, you just watch the traffic roll on by.

His eyes are down by the traffic lights, watching as a small crowd forms, a red light preventing them from crossing even though the road is clear. Yours are a little higher up, on the motel that is hidden between two skyscrapers. The curtains are mostly all drawn; save for one, where a couple stands in a position hauntingly similar to yours and Jeongguk's. They're smiling. Joking about something. Enjoying one another company - until the person standing in Jeongguk's position draws the curtain shut to keep the world at bay.

Maybe they're friends, too, you hypothesize - but friends don't book in love motels together, and if they do? Well, they certainly don't look like that together.

It's not like it's a new concept to you. You understand the conventions of couples; just think that maybe the line between romantic and platonic is far finer than you previously believed. Reckon that you and Jeongguk have a clear sense of it.

Turning in your spot, you wanna get a read on his face; see if you can gauge what he's thinking, what he's feeling. He doesn't move back as you turn. Stays in position. Doesn't mind the closeness.

Just an inch or so away from you, the proximity forces you to tilt your chin upwards in order to catch his gaze. His own chin is tipped to his chest, looking down at you in the gentlest of ways.

Storm clouds of mascara rest faintly beneath your lash line, and the occasional rivulet of water trails from your hair and down your skin like spring rain. Your typically tempestuous attitude is nowhere to be seen; docile in the calm of Jeongguk's mellow summer air.

Silent as the pads of his fingers stroke down the side of your neck, you're well aware of the fact you're not really breathing. Are too consumed by trepidation. Fearful and yet hopeful of what's to come. His firmly pouted lips part slowly - but he doesn't lean down.

Instead, his fingertips hook beneath the chain around your neck, and slowly begin to twist it back into position. The clasp had fallen to the front, excess chain tangling around the charm.

Jeongguk holds the dainty silver bird where it should be, between your collarbones, his touch feathery as he preens you.

Cautious and yet entirely confident, he doesn't mean to steal your breath - but it's only fair. You took his first.

His lip purse. Fold in on themselves. Lip ring does the thing. Adam's apple bobs as he swallows back a feeling he doesn't quite know what to make of.

And then he simply nods. Steps a little further back. Smiles. "There. Much better."

A discreet smile ghosts your lips as he turns away from you to get back to his work. Revision always gets him in this weird of constant contempt; stressed at the world around him even when he needn't be. Gets him antsy. Agitated.

His stress manifests in hunched shoulders and restless legs which jitter beneath his desk.

He tries to ignore the twinge of guilt in his chest as you leave the room without a word. Knows that he must be terrible company. Wonders why he can't just express himself normally.

Contrarily, you worry that Jeongguk just wants to be alone, and that your presence is overbearing. He could have cancelled plans if he wanted to. You wouldn't have minded. Sure, you've missed hanging out with him, but it's not the end of the world. Is probably good to have a little bit of a breather from one another every now and again.

Fixated on the fact you feel like a bother, you set about making yourself useful. He looks like he hasn't had a decent meal in a good while, and the boys keep their fridge remarkably well-stocked for a couple of bachelors with a penchant for nightlife.

Jeongguk listens out for you, still doing his work. Can hear you rummaging about in the fridge, and wonders what on earth you could be doing. Figured that the pair of you would just order in, or something like that.

Truthfully, you'd thought the same - but they've got a stockpile of tomatoes, and chicken that needs using. Without Danbi at home much this week, you've overindulged in take-out and snack foods a few too many times. You need a good meal just as much as he does.

Glancing over to the hob, you check the pasta in the glass jar next to Jeongguk's chopping board. They're out of spaghetti, save for maybe ten strands, but thankfully have a full jar of rigatoni.

You know you can thank Jimin for the decanted pasta. The more you learn about him, the more you understand why his bedroom is so bare despite his job. He calls it 'intuitive interior design' - making life easy for himself through deliberate choices. It's why his bedroom is so streamlined. Less clutter means he can reset his brain more easily.

The living space is where the colour of the apartment is - Tae's paintings, photobooth strips, feather boas stolen from Dionysus - but the kitchen is laid out in a way that makes things easy for both of the boys.

You set about getting the things you might need, not really caring to ask Jeongguk's permission. Whatever you use, you'll happily buy again in the morning, but also highly doubt he'll ask you to. At least this way, he won't have to waste perfectly good ingredients on account of them rotting away in the bottom of the fridge.

You're chopping the tomatoes by the time Jeongguk comes to stand in his doorway.

Leaning against the frame, a hand in his pocket, a soft smile on his lips, he's a little confused. Just watches as domestication becomes you; stars forming on your cheeks when the low glare of the overhead lights hits you just right. Hair still a little damp, it's up with a claw clip, small strands framing your face. You've the speaker on quietly, not wanting to disturb him. Some song he doesn't know by an artist he doesn't recognise plays. All he knows is that he likes it. Likes how comfortable this feels.

Jeongguk has missed you. Has been working to the point of exhaustion, but unable to sleep whenever he goes to bed. Looking at you now, he tries to stifle a yawn. Is glad you haven't noticed his presence, 'cause he knows the face he just pulled wasn't pretty.

But he thinks you are.

The fact he feels like he could sleep now? A curse, he decides. Doesn't wanna sleep. Wants to spend all evening catching up with you.

You're using the side of the knife to gather the chopped tomatoes together, and scooping them into a bowl, when you finally notice him.

"Hey," you say, a smile present as always. Such a simple word, but such a comforting one, too.

"Hey," he smiles back. "Watcha doin', B?"

"Baking a cake," you joke as you begin to peel some garlic from a bulb.

"Mhmm? Tomato cake," he says, pushing off the doorframe with his shoulder and making his way to the kitchen island. He stands opposite you, resting his elbows on the counter, chin in his hands. "My favourite."

The way your eyes sparkle under the warm lights that hang down from the ceiling has Jeongguk thinking of the stars again. His are all starry too, but you think that's just normal for him.

"Good," you say. "I'm making you your very own tomato cake. You have to eat it all ."

"I will."

"You better."

"Every last crumb," he nods - and even though tomato cake sounds absolutely repulsive to him, his stomach rumbles. Makes you laugh.

"When did you last eat?" you ask as you turn to the hob to fetch some spices off the rack.

Jeongguk mumbles. Says he doesn't really remember. Your eyes are sympathetic, frown present when you face him again.

"Gotta look after yourself," you tell him.

"I know. I will. I am - it's just, this exam, Byeol... I'm bricking it."

You had figured as much, but it's nice to have him confirm it instead of letting your assumptions take the lead.

"S'why I chose a coursework exclusive degree," you tease, trying to lighten his mood. "Was heaven."

"I'm so glad we didn't know each other back then," he laughs. "Would have resented you so badly."

You grimace, and give him a look he doesn't understand.

"You're BEM boy," you explain, shortening his Business and Events Management course name to the acronym that it's more commonly known by on campus. And then you shudder. "We wouldn't have been friends."

"Oh, bullshit," he protests. He knows boys on the full-time BEM course have a reputation amongst the alumni. Fuckboys . He's part-time, though. Doesn't run with those crowds. Is a good few years older than most of them, now.

"Nope," you argue back, still pottering about the kitchen, adding more ingredients to the saucepan. "If you'd have been in uni at the same time as me, I'd have avoided you like the plague."

"Would have been your loss."

Doesn't wanna blow his own trumpet, but knows that he looked damn good at 21. Considers it his peak. Forgets 23, and the amount of girls falling at his feet (was too busy at the time, face down by Hayun's feet instead). Simply doesn't realise how good he looks now, at 25.

Maybe 18-year-old Jeongguk was a little awkward, granted, but everyone is at that age. Whenever he used to visit his friends on campus for nights out, the girls they knew would always want to go out with them.

It's actually how he met Hayun. Was 19, and Taehyung had just done a project with her and Nabi for some extra credit. She came on a night out, and he got so nervous around her that he decided to black out just so he didn't have to feel the nerves. He'd woken up the next morning face down in a kebab box on the floor of Nabi and Hayun's dorm.

He resigned himself to the friend zone, and for a while, it had worked. For years, in fact. Convinced himself that they really were just friends. Best friends. Had offered to shag her after she'd spent a solid twenty minutes complaining about the fact she hadn't had sex for long she may as well have been a born-again virgin. Was just joking - but when she called his bluff, Jeongguk folded.

Maybe it wouldn't have been your loss at all.

Maybe you'd have never become friends, like you are now.

Maybe you both had to live through your traumas to be able to find one another.

You just scoff, unaware of memory lane taking Jeongguk down an unfavourable path. " Sure . My first uni hook-up was with a guy doing BEM. Trust me. I would have avoided you."

"Oh?" Jeongguk questions. "Do I know him?"

Shaking your head, you turn to place the pan on the stovetop, and let it heat up. "Doubt it. Was a final year when I was a fresher, so would have been gone way before you started."

Jeongguk's brows furrow, now. "When you were a fresher? A final year?"

Humming confirmation, you carry on with your cooking.

"He was supervising the fresher's bar crawl," you explain. Can't even remember his name, now. Can barely remember anything about that night. "Was leading my team. I lost against him in a drinking game. Really couldn't handle my drink back then. Anyways, I ended up in some off-campus house with the most vom-inducing hickies known to man."

"So you were drunk?"

It sounds a little accusatory. He doesn't mean to. It's just that he deals with creeps taking advantage of drunk girls all the time. Hates it. Hates thinking it happened to you.

"Yeah?"

"And he wasn't?"

"He was less so. Was still drinking, but yeah, it wasn't my best decision."

The way you shrug it off frustrates Jeongguk. His lips purse a little, and the dimples reserved for moments of contemplation deepen in his cheeks.

"You know what it's like when you're eighteen," you continue, facing away from him, unaware of his obvious contempt. "First taste of freedom and all that. Think you're invincible. And like, I made worse choices that year," you add, as if that's supposed to soften the blow of what you've just told him.

His tummy feels all twisted; as if his body is trying to manifest the concept of time travel just so he can go back and apply for university when everyone else did. Wants to have been your friend right from the start. Wants to erase the reality of creeps taking advantage of you.

"Still a kid at eighteen," he says. Strange, how he doesn't afford his past self the same kindness. "It's so young."

You shrug, turning back around to retrieve the extra vegetables for the sauce. "Easy to think that, looking back. Thought I had the world figured out, at the time. The older I get the more naive I realise I was."

Funny, how years and years later, you feel more clueless than you ever did back then. Relationships were black and white; you either loved someone, or you didn't.

Now, the concept of love you once knew isn't one that you're entirely sure you believe in. Not in the same way you did.

"Anyways, you should shower," you say, moving the conversation along. No point dwelling on pasts that make no difference, now. "You look like shit."

He reaches over to one of the spare tomatoes and throws it in your direction. Smiles when you try to swat it away, only for it to hit your neck regardless.

"Charming as always, Byeol," he says a little dryly, but with his smile still wide.

"Well, you do," you assure him, face straight, eyes earnest.

"Show up at my place, use my hot water, start rummaging around in my fridge-" he says with a tsk .

" You invited me," you scoff right back. " Told me to shower, and I'm cooking for you . Christ alive. You really are unbearable today."

The grin on Jeongguk's face is so pretty, eyes so sparkly, that you think you want to kiss him again. Silly little thought in your silly little head. Silly, and improper, and dangerous. Disastrous, in fact.

"And," you add on, because you know you need this conversation to end. "You stink. So go and get a shower, you horrible boy."

Feeling somewhat challenged, Jeongguk lifts his arm above his head and nestles his nose right into his pit. Inhales, as if he's smelling freshly baked pie. Smiles. "Ahhhh. Delicious."

You gag.

"You wanna smell?" he offers, leaning a little further on the counter, face sweet as he encourages you. The look of repulsion on your face is exactly what he was after. "Yeah?"

"Keep that pit away from me," you warn, holding up the knife you had used to chop the tomatoes.

Despite the threat, Jeongguk edges around the kitchen island. "Yeah? Wanna smell?"

"Stay the fuck away!"

"Wait, I didn't hear you. You said come closer?"

"Gguk!"

For all your protests, the knife is back down on the counter. You tossed it down so you could run from him, but you're not really trying all that hard.

You'll pretend like you are. Wriggle from his grip when he catches you. Try and hide your laugh as he tries to quite literally smother you. Will pinch his nipple through his shirt as a form of defence. Will gag, and whine, and pretend like this is the worst experience of your life.

But in the comedown of Jeongguk's chase, you both giggling, caught in an embrace that is far too close, sauce simmering away without a care, you'll notice the stars in his eyes again. Count the constellations. Forget how to breathe, as if you really are in space without any oxygen.

"You smell like a sweaty ballsack," you tell him with absolute certainty.

Yet your grip on his shirt doesn't ease.

"You look like a sweaty ballsack," he counters. Swallows.

Neither of you pull away. Apparently, you're both partial to a sweaty ballsack. Who'd have thought?

On a fundamental, human level, you're aware that Jeongguk doesn't smell great. He is sweaty and definitely has worn that shirt for like, three days in a row, but... you like it. Oh it's disgusting . Really fucking horrid. Rancid, even.

"Shower," he just says, softly, as if he's reminding himself of what he needs to do.

You nod. "Shower."

But your hands are still holding the sides of his shirt, and his eyes can't seem to focus on yours because they keep dropping to your lips, and then his breathing is all over the place and so is yours and - fuck .

Loosening your grip, you pat the front of his chest. He doesn't move. Just closes his eyes. Nods.

"I need to check the sauce," you whisper. "Go. Shower."

And so he does as he's told. You keep yourself busy tinkering about until you hear the shower start up - at which point, you rest your palms on the counter and let your head hang between your shoulders. Sigh deeper than Marianas Trench. Shake your head. "Stupid."

You're unaware, but he's doing the exact same thing by the bathroom sink.

It had been fine. It had been fun. Why did I have to linger like that? Why did I have to make things weird? Why am I always making things so awkward?

He tosses his clothes down on the pile by the door, his on top of yours, and instantly feels a little bit better when the water hits his skin. Tries not to dwell on it, 'cause if he pretends moments like those don't happen, he won't have to deal with them. Will gaslight himself into thinking it never happened.

You're on the couch by the time he's done with his shower, legs curled up, pasta cooked and waiting in a covered saucepan for him.

"Not eating?" he asks as he notices there's no evidence of you having pasta on the coffee table.

Glancing over to him, you're reminded of post-shower Jeongguk and why the concept of it is so dangerous for you. Towel wrapped around his waist, water trailing down his abs... Yeah. You lose your mind a little. Think that any sane human would also lose theirs.

"I, uh-" you pause. Swallow. "Um. Sorry. Eat?"

"Yeah," he smirks, a little bemused. Figures you were lost in the show you're watching. Still in his shirt, your hair is pretty much dry, now, slight waves framing your face while the rest of it is still pinned back in a claw clip. You really do need to decide what you're doing with the colour. The bleach is growing out far faster than you thought it would, but you can't commit yourself to getting rid of it. Jeongguk likes the slightly messy nature of it all. Thinks it suits you. "No pasta?"

"Oh," you enthuse when you realise what he was asking. "Was just waiting for you."

He apologises. Says you should have started without him. Says he wouldn't have minded it, and thanks you again for cooking. "Smells amazing."

Quick to throw on some clean clothes, Jeongguk shoos you out of the way when he gets back to the kitchen and finds you about to plate up. Insists he does it. You've done all the hard work. He's happy to wash up, but he wants to at least contribute now.

Jeongguk takes a single bite of the pasta before he stands up, retrieves the saucepan and a heat mat, then sets it down on the coffee table.

"You okay there?" you laugh, a little puzzled by him.

When he turns to look at you, as if you've betrayed him. "You never told me you could cook, B."

He had been expecting a regular, run-of-the-mill tomato pasta - nothing wrong with that, he would have enjoyed it - but this? Oh, this is as close to heaven as humans get through food. It's rich and spicy, but also a little sweet and tangy when it needs to be. The rigatoni is cooked just right. Just how he likes it.

"You can't?" You laugh, digging into your own bowl. Admittedly, it is banging. Your favourite comfort recipe, you're quietly overjoyed that he likes it.

He shakes his head to say no. Has always enjoyed cooking. Knows he'll have to make you his signature pork belly one day. If you end up staying tonight (which he's hoping you will, even if he is awful company at the moment), he'll cook breakfast.

"I can - I just... fuck me, Byeol," he almost moans. "This shit is good."

Jeongguk's always had a good stroke game, but when it comes to stroking your ego? Yeah, he ain't bad at that, either.

He also isn't bad at turning himself into a literal human hoover. It's a miracle he doesn't choke, or get heartburn. He's already nearly polished off the leftovers from the pan before you've even made it halfway through your bowl (of which he had filled to the brim, because portion control with a body like his doesn't apparently matter).

Pasta eaten - or in Jeongguk's case, absolutely demolished - he allows himself the luxury of switching off for the first time all week. Other than a quick gym session here and there, or coffee with Hayun towards the start of the week, he hasn't taken a moment to relax at all.

You're rabbiting on about something inconsequential, just letting him exist. You know it's been a hard week. The television plays in the background, big light turned off, your feet in his lap. He stokes a little mindlessly over your ankle, self-soothing for him and just as comforting for you. He's meant to be listening, but zoned a little while ago.

Initially, he was thinking about the weird moment between you both in the kitchen earlier, but tried to get it out of his head.

Ends up thinking about the BEM twat you mentioned earlier, instead. Thinks you've got horrible taste in men - or at least, in hookups. He knows both he and Jimin could be classified in that category, but he disregards that. Or at least, he disregards himself .

At least he makes you orgasm. If he asks, will probably be horrified by the amount of times you've gone without one during intercourse. It's not always, but often. Never with him though, which is nice.

Scares you a little bit. The idea of the best sex of your life being with someone who isn't romantically involved with you just doesn't sit right. What if you fall in love and Jeongguk is still the best you've ever had? Will you be comparing? It's a variable you're yet to test out. One that worries you.

But all Jeongguk can think about is the fact that you're his friend. And he cares about you. And he thinks you deserve to feel good. And knows he can do that. And that he wants to do that. And so, quite suddenly, Jeongguk interrupts you.

"Can I get you off?"

You almost choke on your own spit. Had been explaining a new discovery of ancient mammals using tools for hunting and cooking. Not the most enticing topic of conversation, to say the least.

"Sorry?" You laugh, taken aback by the sudden request.

He looks away. Looks at his hands. Looks back at you. Wishes he wouldn't let the impulsive thoughts win, sometimes.

But then, because apparently he's a fucking idiot with no self-control, he asks again. "Can I get you off?"

The answer is always, unabashedly, yes . You've been caught off guard though. Panic. Ask, "Why?"

He shrugs. Looks at his hands again, eyes wide, brows furrowed. Wants to pour boiling water in his ear to melt his brain. Would probably work better if it was mush, he thinks. A reply to your question sits on the tip of your tongue, but there are too many variations for him to choose from - Because you deserve it. Because I'm horny. Because I want to. - so he just says: "fun."

And, like, he's not wrong. It is fun. You just thought it would be the last thing on his mind, given how stressed and sleepy he's been.

"I mean, do you want to?" you laugh, a little hot beneath the shirts of his that you're wearing by the mere suggestion of it.

He shrugs. Thinks it's a stupid question. Nods. "Get your minge out."

The horror plastered all over your face wouldn't be out of place in a Hitchcock film.

"Get my minge out?!" You hiss, your repulsion only second to shock.

"Yeah," he smirks. Is deliberately being vulgar because it's funny, and he needs this to be anything but romantic. Will lose his fucking head if he starts thinking about stars and constellations and shit like that again - but fuck . Even after a shower, you're covered in glitter! He can never fuckin' win. Is in a constant state of war with his own head. How can he ever expect to win against the milky way in human form? You'll eclipse him one day, and he'll enjoy every second of it.

"It's almost like you don't want me to get wet," you tell him, as if you didn't feel a slight twinge in your stomach when he smirked. Wasn't your fault. His lip ring did the thing. You're only human. Was bound to happen.

"I think you're already wet," he says all rather plainly.

"That's beyond the point."

It's a satisfying answer. One that makes him feel all smug. Gets his cock a little twitchy.

"Look, I'm stressed, B," he admits. "There's so much going on in my head that I can't think straight. Getting you off is, like, a stress reliever."

You furrow your brows. "Surely getting yourself off is a stress reliever?"

"I can do that at the same time, if you want?" He says, cheeky in the way he raises his eyebrows and toys with his lip ring.

"You are such a boy."

"So is that a no?"

That's the thing about you and Jeongguk; you'll never reject him.

In fact, it's probably quite futile for his whole fear of rejection thing. That'll be a thought to battle with later, though.

"It's an 'ask nicely' ."

Jeongguk gently squeezes your ankle, before getting to his feet and piling the pasta bowls into a neat stack. "Let me just wash up, alright?"

You watch him as he walks away not even waiting for a response. He does it often; wants your approval of things he's already determined to do. It's sweet, in a way. Could be frustrating, given the right circumstances, but it hasn't been so far. You just kinda keep your gaze on him, confused at how a man so reserved and cautious in one moment can be so reckless and charming in the next.

"Byeol?" He hums, flicking on the tap and reaching for the dish soap.

"Hmm?" You hum right back.

"Go wait in my room."

It takes you a second or so to follow his commands. Earns a minuscule plea from him. "Please, B."

You can't refuse him. Not really. Never have been able to.

His room is still a mess. Glitter-tarnished pillows clue you into the fact that he hasn't washed his sheets since new years - but then you remember the fact he definitely changed the bottom sheet. Colour floods to your cheeks, memories of that night crashing to the forefront of your mind.

You try to forget about it. Forget the kisses. Forget the way it sounds when Jeongguk calls you ' baby '.

This? Now? Nothing more than a stress reliever. ' Fun '.

You neaten up his bed, and tuck the takeout boxes out of sight. Turn on his cosmic mood lamp, but leave the curtains open. You preen yourself in his mirror. Realise there's something missing, so retrieve the little pot of glitter from his shelf.

The remains of the day's glitter are all over your skin, but the shower had cleansed your eyes of it. Makes you feel naked. You hate it - so quickly stipple a little in your inner corners and beneath your lash line.

It's funny. When you take off the shirt of his that you're wearing, and toss it over the back of his chair a moment later, you don't feel naked. Feel perfectly yourself. A glitter girlie through and through.

Jeongguk stops in his tracks as soon as he reaches his door frame. You're standing on the other side of his bed, a coy smile on your lips

"Fuck."

His eyes are all over you, tongue wetting his bottom lip before his teeth press down on it. Something about your body really gets him. It's likely the memories - knowing how your skin tastes, how soft your tits are and how hard your nipples can get, the pressure of your lips on his neck - that gets him even stiffer in his sweats.

He really underestimated the consequences of telling you to get your minge out. Should have thought about that.

"You're gonna kill me one day," he mutters as you get onto the bed with almost feline elegance. He walks a little closer. Meets you by the corner of his mattress. Doesn't object as you palm him through his sweats. Sighs into your touch. "God."

Perfectly poised to suck his dick, you both know that you could. He wants it. Wants it so badly he can't even begin to articulate a request.

But it's not about him. Not even when your lips press pretty kisses against the outline of his cock.

He's making you cum. He has to. Will die if he doesn't.

"On your back," he husks. "Spread your legs for me."

There's a pout on your lips, but you do as he says. When your back hits his sheets, your tits pillow on your chest, perfectly round and desperately in need of his lips around your nipples. Legs open for him, one of your hands dips to your pussy while the other cups one of your boobs. Middle and forefinger spreading your wet lips for him, you feign a little innocence.

"This what you want?"

All he can do is nod, eyes transfixed on just how good you look. Wetness seeps from you, covering you in the most glorious sheen. You're always so wet for him. So ready. So willing.

You massage yourself a little for him. Toy with your clit. Whine probably more than you really need to.

Standing at the end of his bed, cock furiously hard in the strained material of his sweats, Jeongguk wraps his hands around your ankles. Yanks you further down his bed. Gets you all giggly.

He doesn't loosen his grip straight away. Instead, he lifts your legs. Rests your heels on his shoulders. Reaches down to squeeze your boobs. Grunts. "Fuckin' tits, man."

You're grinning, still. "What of them?"

He shakes his head. Grins, too. "Fuckin' corrupted me."

"You want them in your mouth again, don't you?" You tease - but are quickly put back in your place when Jeongguk sinks a finger into your hot cunt. "Fuck."

"Keep playing with yourself," he says, before getting all shy. He's about to admit how much he likes your tits. Again . As if you don't already know. Cringes. Tilts his head to the side, nose nestling against your foot. Smiles. Looks back at you with shame and sin all over his starry features. Sinks a second finger into you. "Yeah, I wanna suck them. So fuckin' bad."

His fingers are slow as they work their way into you. In. Out. Push. Pull. It's heaven. Slow. Deep. Just like Jeongguk's eyes and the way they study the pleasure on your face. He's taking his time.

You draw dainty little circles on your clit, not wanting to take the focus away from the feeling of his fingers. The combination is lethal; the furrowing of Jeongguk's brows a trigger that could set you off at any given moment.

Something about his work ethic really gets you. He puts his all into the things he does. Wants to be the best. Endeavours to always get top marks. The way he's cramming for his exam? Yeah. It's hot. His determination? His drive? So incredibly sexy. It comes as no surprise that he's got similar prowess for making you come undone. He reads your body. Understands that the tight closing of your eyes is pleasure, not pain. Knows that the flexing of your calves against his chest, the pointing of your toes by his ears, means he's stroking at the right spot; curling his fingers just right.

His spare hand strokes up your leg. Grips your ankle, his thumb lacing itself beneath your anklet. Your head pushes back into his sheets, spine arching for him.

"Yeah?" he encourages as he continues stroking up against your front wall. "Does it feel good?"

Eyes still closed, you nod. Whimper.

A little more pressure on your clit would make you come. You aren't doing it 'cause you want this feeling to last, but you're already so close. He knows exactly how to get you on edge. Finds your weak points and exploits them for his own pleasure; the satisfaction of giving you an orgasm.

"Good," he husks, pressing his lips against the side of your foot, just cause he needs to do something with them. Fucks his fingers into a little deeper. Slower. Is dulcet as he says, "wanna fuck you so bad."

"Do it," you whine. "Fuck me. Please."

You can hear the tiny little nose breath he does as a soft smirk graces his lips. Can feel them against your foot as he shakes his head and whispers, "no."

You whine. Pout. "Gguk-"

But then he builds speed. Is so fast you can barely breathe let alone speak. Makes your entire body shake.

"That's it," he keens. "Keep rubbing your clit. You're gonna cum for me."

"Gguk."

"You're gonna cum."

Thing is, it's not a command. It's an observation. He can feel you getting tighter; feel the familiar clamp of your hot muscles against his long fingers. Knows that this is what precedes heaven on earth.

All you can do is nod. "Gonna cum."

Your hips roll up into his touch, desperate to be as full of him as you can be. As you press down on your clit, the way Jeongguk shallows his finger to directly hit your g-spot has you mewling. His fingers are fast as he repeatedly motions them upwards, the knot in your stomach growing tight and tighter and tighter - until, gradually, eventually, but all very suddenly, the rope snaps entirely.

Your orgasm washes over you like tidal waves, throbbing walls tightening around Jeongguk's fingers, your spare hand grabbing at his wrist to both stop him and keep him in place. It's too much and not enough all at the same time. You continue applying pressure to your clit as writhe in his sheets.

Jeongguk watches on, jaw slack, eyes hungry. He could watch this all day; how the creases between your brows don't ease, not even when your lips curl into a smile. How your chest heaves, and your legs jolt. God. He wishes you were a part of his exam. He'd pass with flying colours.

"You good?" He asks a little too fondly, smiling down at you.

Laughing to yourself a little, you cover your eyes with your forearm. Nod. "Good."

But you're also not done.

There's a plethora of sticky notes on his wall, and you're pretty sure Jeongguk hasn't had a release in a fair few days. He needs this more than you.

And so when you tell him to pick a sticky note, he doesn't waste time. Goes for one at waist level - figures you probably put it up, not him.

Turning back to face you, the sticky note affixed to his index finger as he reads it, his brows furrow. Face contorts. Head tilts to the side.

"What the fuck is an erotic accordion?"

—

"I don't ever wanna see you in that position again," Jeongguk shudders, decidedly not finding anything erotic about being positioned like a fucking accordion.

The mechanics of it all just do not do it for him. It's not even so much the awkwardness of you, but himself. Didn't like seeing himself in that position. Has never been so aware of his own legs during a shag. Weirded him out.

You snort. "Please - I think it was the least sexually attracted to you I've ever been."

Jeongguk toys with his lip ring, tattooed arm folded across his chest, sheets pooling just beneath his belly button. Back against his headrest, all of his pillows are on the floor. They'd just gotten in the way earlier.

You're on your back, legs up against his headrest, both mirroring and subverting his position. On top of the sheets, you're wearing one of his shirts to cover your modesty.

"So you admit it," he teases with a raise of his eyebrows as you look over towards him. Wish there were still pillows on his bed so you could hit him with one. "You do think I'm hot."

"Not when you're positioned like that," you tease right back.

It's all in good humour. Neither of you are taking any offence. The whole point of these sticky notes is to find out what you do and don't like - the erotic accordion? Yeah. You'll file that one under 'not again'.

Although the more Jeongguk thinks about it, the more open he is to it.

"Felt pretty good, though."

The position, which had been one of your sticky notes, involved him laying on his back with his knees to his chest. The thought of it now makes you giggle. He looked quite cute, all things considered. Submissive. Shy.

He's got that pensive face of his on, looking straight ahead at his desk. There's an assignment open on his dual screens, and he does need to get back to it soon, but he's making the most of a short break with you.

His lips ring does the thing as he nibbles down on his bottom lip.

You move your leg a little to tap his head with your foot, getting his attention.

"Mhm?" he hums, eyes still unfocused.

"Did it really feel good?"

He nods. Looks at you now. Smirks, but tries to hide it. Shrugs his broad shoulders, collar bones catching on the light of his monitors. Dark outside, they're the only thing lighting up the room now that his lamp is turned off.

"Can't get that deep," he simply states. "There's, like, a lot going on around the tip. It's the most sensitive part, isn't it? So yeah."

You've always been a deep penetration girlie, but even you have to admit the shallowness of his cock pushing into only just your entrance before pulling out again felt really nice. Completely different to what you're used to - especially from him.

Glancing down his chest to where his hand rests over his crotch, you assess the situation. The sheets cover him, but you know he's a little hard beneath them.

You adjust slightly. Press your thighs together, heels against his wall.

With a hearty sign, you feign a little boredom. "Fine. I'll fuck you again."

"Sorry?" He almost giggles. Teeth on show, nose a little scrunched, he doesn't understand you, sometimes. Enjoys it, though. Likes how you aren't taking the sticky notes seriously.

It alleviates him of the pressure that would come with doing these things with anyone else, he thinks.

He knows that's the whole point of them - try these things with you, so that he doesn't have to fear rejection of asking for them with anyone else - but he's surprised at how well it seems to work.

Then again, he's not yet put any of them into practice.

Unaware of his complex thoughts, yours are far more simple: you're still horny.

The accordion really isn't all that erotic. You didn't finish. Didn't care for reciprocation, 'cause Jeongguk's got a wall full of sticky notes, and it's only just gone midnight. You know you'll be coming undone at least once more tonight - if Jeongguk's track record is anything to go by, it'll be plenty more.

Tapping his head with your foot again, you smile as his hand wraps around your ankle.

"Stop," he mumbles, nose resting on the top of your foot, lips pressing against the side of it.

You bite down on your bottom lip, a little flustered from heavenly his chocolatey eyes appear. He keeps his grip on your ankle and pulls it over his lap, encouraging your body to twist. Dragging you to straddle him, reverse cowgirl style, Jeongguk isn't shy about the fact he's hard again.

"You're so easy," you simper, slinking down like a cat, back a little arched, arms straight out ahead of you. His hands push his shirt up, and grips the soft flesh of your hips, pulling you a little further up his lap. You automatically find yourself grinding a little against him. Force of habit.

"Me?" He murmurs, gripping your ass now. He's a little rough with it. Fingers strong. You half think he's gonna spank you - but then he sinks his middle finger straight into your cunt. Still wet and wanting after the sex, Jeongguk enjoys teasing you. Likes keeping you keen. It's fun. He pulls the entire length of his finger out from you. Licks it clean. Keeps his hushed groan quiet. Fingers you again. Pulls out, again. The sound of him intruding and leaving is so satisfying. He does it again. Again, again. You're a little whimpery. "I'm the easy one?"

"Mhmm," you whine as he pushes into you again, still a single, long finger. He holds it there this time. "So easy."

The way you're positioned right now has him wanting to act on his ass-guy impulses. You kind of knew it would. He got you into this position far too easily for it not to have been something he's perfected over the years.

"Can I?" He husks, not wanting to ask the full question, hoping you'll understand.

You do. You know exactly what he wants. Wanna give him the green light without hesitation - but you're supposed to be helping one another.

"Ask properly," you say, voice contorted with the anticipation of pleasure. "Ask for what you want, Jeongguk."

"Mhh," he groans. The hand that isn't currently occupied with your pussy squeezes the soft mound of your ass. "I hate it when you make me do this."

It's almost like he's forgotten how often he makes you directly ask for things.

Your hips roll for him, Jeongguk's fingers still inside. Can't help but moan. "Gotta do it, Gguk. Gotta open yourself up for rejection."

He knows you won't say no. Knows rejection isn't on the table here, and yet he sort of worries about it, still. This is something he wants. Something he's expressed desire in; exclusively his.

Jeongguk lowers his head. Presses a kiss to where his hand was once squeezing your ass. Rests his forehead there. Groans.

"You know I want it," you husk, encouraging him. "All you gotta do is ask. Use your big boy words."

He just whines again. Is deliberately dramatic when he says, "Don't say shit like that, Byeol. I'll cum in my pants."

With a soft laugh, you turn back to look at him. Your faces are both partially obscured by the positioning of your body, but your eyes are able to meet. He's pouting. Eyes wide. Looks as if he's telling gospel truths.

"You're not gonna cum in your pants," you tell him, knowing he's a big fat liar. He's probably not even ready to go again, yet.

"No," he admits. "But I might die.

Rolling your eyes, you grin as you regain your former position. "So you want your dying words to be that of a coward, huh?"

He sighs. Knows you're right. Fucks his finger into you even deeper, stroking at your walls. Gets you a little whiney .

"Wanna eat your ass, " he gruffs, spreading your cheeks a little with his spare hand. You're on display for him, the tight muscle he's dying to get his tongue on just waiting there patiently; pristine. "Let me. Please ."

And then, quite unexpectedly, you free yourself from his grip. Pull away.

Turn to face him, and smile with a grin Jeongguk knows is trouble.

"No."

Lips hanging ajar, Jeongguk looks like he's just been hit in the chest with a paintball gun. He almost wants to question it - No? What do you mean no? - but he knows exactly what no means. Respects it. And yet he feels a little cheated.

"B..." is all he says, because, like, what the fuck? You'd practically been edging him. Forced him to��ask .

"Gguk..." you tease back, obviously finding this far more amusing than he is.

His face is a picture, confusion contorting his features, silence speaking for him. It's the reaction you expected, but it makes you feel a lot more guilty than you had anticipated. It's not that you're trying to be a dick. You really did want him to do it.

But Jeongguk is also yet to face any form of rejection. The girls he's spoken to have been interested in him. Not once has he faced any sizable consequence to his questions or actions, and even though you know that asking to eat your ass isn't exactly the top of his issues, you have to reject him. Have to get him used to the feeling. Have to let him get comfortable with it.

He doesn't really know what to do. Purses his lips. Nods. Is obviously disappointed, but trying his best not to let it show.

You feel guilty. Come a little closer. Straddle his lap again, and guide his chin so that his gaze is directly on yours.

He resists at first. Is embarrassed. Feels all horrible inside. It's even worse that his cock is still hard. The entire thing is a bit mortifying. Doesn't wanna look at you, 'cause he feels stupid. Must have misread the situation. Idiot.

But he hadn't misread it all.

You hadn't planned on doing that. Just kind of had an impulsive thought - what if I do reject him? - and let it win.

"That was mean," he whispers so quietly that you almost don't hear it.

You nod, noses nudging against his. "It was."

"Say sorry," he pouts.

When you smile, a small giggle is held back. "I'm sorry. Should I kiss you?" you offer. He pulls you a little further up his lap. Makes you think a kiss is coming. "To say sorry?"

Closer, closer, closer. His nose nudges up against yours. He pauses. "No."

It's direct. To the point. Gets you in your chest a little. Rejection . Funny little thing.

"I wasn't trying to be a dick. There is a sticky note with it on, Koo," you begin to explain. Jeongguk hates how loopy that name makes his tummy feel. "It's gonna happen. I want it to happen."

Yet you didn't let it. He doesn't get it. Doesn't understand. It's a rare instance of your communication going awry.

"You made me ask," he mumbles, pouting. "And then you..."

You stay silent. Wait for him to figure it out. It takes only a second or so. You know he's cracked it when his thumbs begin to stroke against your skin like it normally does.

"And then I rejected you," you nod. Feel incredibly guilty about it now.

Living through rejection in times of vulnerability is important for him. He needs to process that it's okay; that rejection isn't automatic doom and gloom. That he can put himself out and not fear rejection - not because it will never happen, but because he can recognise that life goes on after it.

And it does. For now, though, he's still a little embarrassed.

"I hate that you did that," he says candidly, voice quiet, nose nestled against yours. Wants to stay close. Wants the comfort that comes with it. Eyes shut, his confidence feels shot to shit.

On a normal day, he'd probably not be so concerned about it all - however his emotions are running high. It's just the stress, but it's impacting all of his interactions.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"I know," he whispers right back. He genuinely does believe you are - but also believes you shouldn't have to apologise for saying no. "It's okay. 'No' is okay. You can say sorry for being a meanie, but that's all. Can't say sorry for saying 'no' , okay?"

Oh, you've never wanted to kiss him more. Give him the biggest, sweetest smooch for just being so inexorably endearing.

But you just nod. He'd said 'no' to kisses earlier.

Life goes on. Jeongguk knows this. Repeats it like an oath.

Life goes on. Life goes on. Life goes on.

"Two choices," he says. Pulls away a little. Wants to look in your starry eyes, and forget what just happened. "Choice one - we call it a night and get some sleep."

"Or?" you encourage, still feeling a little awful about the whole rejection thing.

"Or, choice two - you go and pick a sticky note, this time. We do whatever it says."

If there's one thing for certain, it's that you love a good redemption arc. Think this is a no-brainer. You hop off his lap without a second thought and pluck one off the wall at random.

Jeongguk bites down on his bottom lip as he watches you. His head is all over the place, but he knows one definite truth: you make things feel okay .

Embarrassment? It's null and void, with you. Sure, he feels it in the moment, but it always just simmers away. Disappears.

"So?" he asks, as you scan over the words of the note.

It's Jeongguk's handwriting. Is deserved, you think.

You turn it around for him to read, getting back into position on his lap. He welcomes you back, Holds your waist as you intrude on his personal space more - but is it really intruding if he's opening the door for you? Welcoming you in?

"Ah," he grins a little awkwardly. " That ."

" That ," you echo with a small giggle.

"You wanna do it?" he asks, a little cautiously this time.

You're so proud.

He opened himself for rejection again . He can do it.

With a nod, and every muscle in your body willing your lips not to kiss him, you say, "yeah. I do."

Jeongguk grins even brighter, now. Has stars in his smile. Thoughts of twenty minutes prior don't bother him anymore.

"Alright," he sighs a little, as if he isn't secretly really keen for what's yet to come. "Let's get it."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

#bad decisions #jungkook smut

39 notes · View notes

taeilssunflower · 1 year

Text

Fic recs! (Mostly NCT)

I’m finally making a fic rec post! Most of the time I read a good fic, I don't save it which I then regret if I want to come back to it so here we are.

Mostly NCT Dream and mostly smut. I’ll put the fic description and my own opinions for each one, but I don’t read for all members so sorry about that haha. Hopefully I can build it up and add more people as we go.

I added genre and descriptions too, hopefully its helpful to others even if I added it for my memory’s sake!

NCT

김도영 - Kim Doyoung

Under the Stars (8k) @jinjikook

Genre: smut + a tiny bit of fluff at the end; domestic AU + church boy! doyoung

Description: you’re forced to go to the equivalent of bible camp, out in the forest. unfortunately, you’re also forced to share a tent with a resident goody-two-shoes and you decide to have a little fun messing with him. turns out, it brings him to his limit and pushes him over the edge.

My notes: I CAN’T BELIEVE I FORGOT THIS IN MY ORIGINAL LIST I love this fic. I love it. It’s SO GOOD like its the only fic I didn't have written down because the name and the author are engrained in my brain.

이마크 - Mark Lee

Delphinium. @ncteez Part one (16.3k), part two (23k)

Genre: Smut, angst, some fluff in pt1, lots in 2. virgin religious mark, pagan reader, mentions of questioning faith, un-holy behavior, coming to terms, making out, holding hands, mark’s first ever orgasm ect....

Description: It wasn’t intentional. You don’t even know why you cared that he didn’t believe in pre-marital sex, but it didn’t stop you from arguing with him about it. You didn’t intend to win the argument either. Then again, he kind of let you.

My notes: Basically Mark who's done nothing - never even kissed a girl - fighting and questioning his own morals regarding religion. I was so hooked, once I started I could not stop and I’ve read both parts more than once since. The smut is sensual and the feelings are displayed well. Very well written, but anything from this author is honestly her whole masterlist is worth checking out.

Watch Me. (14.6k) @sluttyten

Genre: non-idol au, voyeurism, masturbation, snowballing, squirting, blowjobs

Description: you pick up the voyeuristic habit of watching your neighbor that never closes his curtains and whose face you never see. on an unrelated note, you start dating the cute barista from down the street that also happens to live in the building across from yours. what could happen?

My notes: Pretty self explanatory but two horny people who live across from each other and Mark who doesn’t know how to shut curtains. The tension is immaculate. Another author with a top tier masterlist to look at too.

Gorgeous @lucyandthepen Part one (12.4k), part two (16.6k)

Genre: college / football au, romance, humor, smut.

Description: you don’t know what in the football uniform mark is wearing is so attractive. maybe it’s how broad is shoulders always look in that jersey. maybe it’s how nicely accentuated his ass is when he’s running. or, maybe, just maybe, it’s how painfully conspicuous the outline of his cock is through those pants. or, you know. all of the above.

My notes: Best friends to lovers with jock Mark! I prefer part one, but I thought I’d add part two in there since it’s still very good (I just don't like daddy/mummy kinks). Part one is shower sex with Mark (soososososo good) and part two is a threesome with left out, best friend Hyuck. I loved the writing of emotions, such as nerves, arousal, fluster and admiration throughout both parts. Honestly when an author makes the feelings tangible it just adds so much dimension to writing.

황런쥔 - Huang Renjun

Art Of Innocence (11.8k) @jenonctcity

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst, loss of virginity.

Description: Art and gaming. That’s all Renjun found himself doing. Of course he spent time with his friends, but he had to be dragged away from his games console or easel first. Renjun had been brought up around art, his mother being an artist and his father being a drama teacher. So it wasn’t a shock to anyone when he decided to study art at university. His quiet, shy, nerdy nature meant that he didn’t get much attention when walking around campus, which is just how he liked it. You however, had found him on your first day of university and had stuck to him like glue. He pretended as if you didn’t mean that much to him, but you and him both knew he would be lost without you. Only, you didn’t know he was a virgin. So after you found out about the pact from one of the other boys, you couldn’t wait to intercept his gaming session and quiz him on his innocence. You couldn’t help it, but you suddenly saw him in a different light, one that had your fingers tingling and stomach flipping. The same way Renjun had felt looking at you since the first day he’d met you.

My notes: Description sums it up. I have read this an ABSURD amount of times. I want this fr omg its so <3. There is a Jeno instalment to the series (The Virgin Diaries) too, also recommended!

50 Shades of Paint (17.3k) @sparklysung

Genre: smut, fluffish, angsty, a bit of crack | non-idol!au, best friends!au

Description: teaming up for an artsy tiktok trend with your best friend should be a fun and wholesome experience. but when it quickly turns into paint wars, you and renjun find yourselves involved in a rather messy situation, especially if your innocent video turns out going viral for all the wrong reasons.

My notes: Fucking in Taeil’s art studio (poor Taeil) after Renjun can’t hide his attraction for you... Very hot and I love how Renjun’s portrayed in this (I also just love Renjun)

이동혁 - Lee Haechan

Swallow Your Words (6k) @sparklysung

Genre: enemies to lovers!au, smut, switch!donghyuck, switch!reader.

Description: it only took a couple of words to make the blood boil in your veins and being the competitive individual you are, you had to prove lee donghyuck, your all-time enemy, wrong.

My notes: Well my original description in my notes app was “FVGBHJKEVYWGGYEFTGRWYTFGYWRGYFRGVFRVWVQEVRGYRW” if that explains how I felt about this in any way. I come back to this fic frequently, it has to be the best written lap dance I've ever read.

Pussy Fiend @domjaehyun Part one (28.2k), part two (40.7k)

Genre: smut, humor, fluff; college au, enemies to fuckbuddies to lovers, roommate au.

Description: uhhh he likes you and is a fiend for pussy idk bestie.

My notes: Such a small summary for such a long fic, but definitely one of the best smuts I’ve ever read. Basically roommate Haechan and you are always bickering, and he's always making sexual jokes until one day, you fuck. I really love cocky Haechan. Part 2 is pretty much 40k of pure smut like holy shit, consider donating to the writer because nearly 70k of writing so well is truly amazing.

Hot & Cold (36k) @ddeonuism

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, comedy (crack treated seriously), mild angst, “opposites attract” kinda trope, non-linear narrative, slice of life (kind of), no smut but suggestive.

Description: Donghyuck and Y/N, Y/N and Donghyuck. Whatever the order was, everyone knew it wasn’t the same without the other; everyone knew that you two would end up together, one way or another. Only, no one ever told Donghyuck that it would take this long. It took an unnecessary long time for him to get where he wanted you to be, but it was worth all the years if it meant he’d get you in the end. After all, he wouldn’t spend all of his time and effort to plan on confessing with an old pink Nintendo DS Lite and a Pokémon Pearl cartridge.

My notes: Made me feel so loved. Shed a tear. Made me delusionally in love with an unobtainable person. When will it be MY TURN?!!! I loved how Hyuck was portrayed, it was just so <3.

I’d Like To See You Try (6.7k) @yutasbellybuttonpiercing M, A.

Genre: non idol!AU, smut, enemies to lovers, switch!Haechan, switch!reader

Description: Once Donghyuck shows up in your Discord to game with you and your friends, a dispute arises quickly. Donghyuck gets on your nerves, though he’s hot as fuck, and you wonder how far you can push him until he breaks.

My notes: Gamer Hyuck fucks you in front of yours and his friends (dream) who are watching via stream. Holy mf shit. Oh my god. What the fuck.

Started With a Kiss (10k) @sundaysundaes

Genre: protected sex, oral sex, crude humor, swearing, literally 10k of sex with very little plot, a lot of playful banters between sassy!hyuck and equally sassy!Y/N

Description: Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?

My notes: “practicing” sex always does well. Lighthearted smut scene, just fun to read!

나재민 - Na Jaemin

Cherry Girl! (16.7k) @tyonfs

Genre: smut, fluff, crack, college au, gamer au (twitch streamer!jaemin), friends to lovers, fuckboy au, friends with benefits au, a little bit of angst

Description: virginity is a social construct, so it’s not like na jaemin had to know you were a pure, untouched maiden. okay, so maybe you should’ve told him that before he was knuckles-deep inside you. or, in which progressing from best friends to best friends with benefits is hard, especially when you both have feelings for each other.

My notes: One day I'll experience head as good as it was written in this.

EXO

도경수 - Do Kyungsoo (D.O)

Across the Way (10k) @kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Voyeurism, semi-public sex, masturbation, dirty talk, kyungsoo in glasses.

Description: Kyungsoo has always been a guy who abides by the rules. He makes decisions based on logic, not impulse; he is the type of guy who wears a suit to work and plans his meals out for each week. Which is why it’s so strange, when Kyungsoo’s neighbor moves in and, rather than be turned off by her games, he finds he can’t look away. Worse, sometimes he even plays along. (Loosely inspired by EXO’s 24/7).

My notes: I think I just really like the idea of having a hot neighbour idk... but uh yeah Kyungsoo gets off by seeing you across from his window but he doesn't know you see him, so naturally you keep riling him up until you're together in person. I love this fic, the internal battle Kyungsoo faces and the smut is really good.

BTS

김태형 - Kim Taehyung (V)

Heatwave (12k) @curly-bangtan

Genre: roommate au, friends to lovers au (f2l), smut, angst if you squint, attempt at sparse crack

Description: When your town is hit with a heatwave, and the air conditioning at your shared place coincidentally malfunctions, you start to go a little crazy at your shit luck because there’s nothing you hate more than clammy pits, while Taehyung goes a little crazy thinking you’re trying to seduce him with your tiny shorts and popsicle-sucking skills.

My notes: Ah the very first fic that made it onto my notes app ‘top tier’ list because it really is top tier. Its hot, clothes come off, popsicles are consumed and then its another type of hot, clothes continue coming off and popsicles start being used for more than just consumption. The desperation was so gtrefjue I could overlook my dislike for daddy kinks. Its a shame, because I used to read lots of BTS smut as there's so much of it and its so good, but I never saved any... maybe its time to go back for a second.

924 notes · View notes

marimayscarlett · 5 months

Note

I sometimes wonder if where Richard lives is somewhere close to where the guys used to hang out in the early days. Prenzlauer Berg isn't that big, so I'm curious if there's any significance to the building because before he bought it, it wasn't much of anything (like most of PB).

It kinda sucks that early Rammstein days are not that well documented, at least not as extensively as Feeling B. I'm sure Paul has loads of photos, but no one filmed them that much.

Hi 👋

As a matter of fact, Richard apparently really does live close to precisely two locations which were rather significant in the early days of Rammstein.

In this interview, it is mentioned that his house is located near the spot where the Knaack Club existed. Here, Rammstein played their first concerts in the beginning of their career as well as when they were already very popular - this location doesn't seem to be that important to Richard, but the second one which is mentioned: near the Knaack Club, the former rehearsal room of Rammstein was located, which holds fond memories for him.

[Rammstein at the Knaack Club in 2004. They played three concerts to present their new album "Reise Reise" to their fans]

It's interesting to note that despite having lived at Prenzlauer Berg very early on (he moved there for I think two years when he was 19, but felt very lonely in this part of the city and spend most of his time playing guitar, mentioned here) and many memories were made there, Richard really isn't a big fan of the city. He mentioned numerous times that Berlin striked him as cold and elitist and doesn't overly feel like home, at least when he moved back there after his time in New York. Slowly he warmed up to the city, he doesn't really know where else he should live in Germany (mentioned here) and as a father, Richard is amazed how many playgrounds there are in Prenzlauer Berg 😊

Prenzlauer Berg in general is apparently in the process of heavy gentrification (a reason why the Knaack Club had to close its doors), which Richard heavily critizes, and he thinks that Prenzlauer Berg got rather boring now that a lot of artists can't afford the rent anymore. If he hadn't any personal relations to this district, he would've most likely live in Kreuzberg.

I don't know if the building held any significance before Richard bought it - he once mentioned that he actually didn't like the building in the beginning and only bought it because of the rooftop 😅

Regarding the documentation about the early Rammstein days: it really is noticeable that Feeling B has an extensive "archive" with videos and picture materials as well as a whole book ("Mix mir einen Drink") dedicated to their history. The book holds some information about the formation of Rammstein, but not a lot. There are two documentaries about punk music in the GDR in general, which also has some Rammstein/pre-Rammstein information (I can sadly only link the trailers since you have to buy them to watch them):

"flüstern & SCHREIEN - Ein Rockreport"

youtube

"ACHTUNG! WIR KOMMEN. UND WIR KRIEGEN EUCH ALLE."

youtube

A fotobook with Paul's pre-Rammstein pictures would be very informative, as well as some more picture material of the numerous other bands the band members originated from (Orgasm Death Gimmick, Die Firma, Das elegante Chaos, The Inchtabokatables and more). Well, we can dream 😊

#rammstein #richard kruspe #berlin #prenzlauer berg #ask #pre-rammstein era

33 notes · View notes

lostheretics · 1 year

Text

PLOT TWIST (5)

▸ chapter 5: the rise of the new boss

pt. 1 || pt. 2 || pt. 3 || pt. 4 || pt. 5

✵ cast : jung wooyoung x fem!reader, kim hongjoong, lee juyeon, kim younghoon, ateez, mentioned oc and many kpop artists name or group

✵ genre : romance, marriage life, eventual angst, smut, mafia!au, non idol!au

✵ summary : there was a saying that learning is a lifelong process. what will you learn about the underworld, the first time you stepped into it? you might have what they call a beginner’s luck, but will that be enough for the things you’ll be facing soon?

✵ notes : stopped counting on how many words but i try to make it lengthy as possible. thanks for waiting, to those whoever awaits i guess. i was thinking of making a taglist for this fic. taglist will be used for updates; ANY updates regarding PT. just drop ur @ in my askbox. also, PLS REBLOG.

WARNINGS BELOW CUT

☒ warnings: none for now but do remind me if there’s one. a lil bit of discrimination from wooyoung but not in a bad way (kinda, but not that bad)

☒ i do not condone mafia acts nor any acts that goes against the law at all. everything mentioned are just purely fiction, made to entertain myself and fellow readers in this particular platforms.

☒ do not repost this on any other platform without my permission!

✓ reblogging, liking, and commenting this post in tumblr (through comment or askbox) are very much appreciated.

you believe in destiny, fate, universe, whatever they’re called. you put your whole faith in it. you trusted them and their work, putting one and one together to make to or even ten. after all, it's also the one reason you and wooyoung beat all odds and be together.

but not to this extent. you refused to believe it.

to believe the pair of arms that caught you just days before became the arms that lead you in a dance session. to believe the same pair of brown eyes to look at you once more. to believe that the stranger who helped you when you almost faint, in work, embarrassingly, is to be the one you work with. your new goal.

cue the famous line from that one song, what kind of fuckery is this?

“you seemed so quiet for someone who’s looking for an ally.”

uhm, because i’m fucking flabbergasted? too stunned to speak?

“i hope you don’t plan on running away, again.” he added, “i just wanna get to know you.”

you laughed nervously, “of course not, sir- uh, mr. kim,” you stuttered, “i don’t know how to properly address you.”

he twirled you before catching you in his arms again. “mr. kim would suffice for now. though i hope we’ll get close enough in the future to be on first name basis.” younghoon said. “and how should i address you? miss y/n? mrs. jung?”

“anything’s fine mr. kim.”

the dance continued.

it was a moment where you could finally savor, or, to put it less romantically and more professionally, it was a moment where you could finally take a good look on the man.

kim younghoon's name has been there for some time, but little was known about his private life. typical of the seoul kims. his business life, however, is the talk of the town.

he never failed in pursuing his business endeavors, alongside his brother. not a single dirt on his name was found despite him still being young in the field. the kim brothers; kim younghoon himself and his younger brother kim seokhun were every parents dream on a child, especially one with a family business.

his soft brown eyes were ones you'll never forget. they were so soft, unlike the ones you saw all your life; dull, full of hatred, and all that bad stuff. and the way his eyes smiled along when he smiled... you thought, a man this soft and pure-looking shouldn't be working in this part of the world.

"juyeon sent you to work with me, but i know he wanted more than just that." younghoon muttered. his hard gaze was evident despite him not looking at you, opting to scan the room.

"he wanted something regarding my family."

"mr. lee sent me to work with you, yes. we're grateful that he even mentioned our name and recommending us to you. however, he did so because he believed my group's main business is in the same field as yours, and that it'll make more sense." you said, ever so carefully while studying his face. you took a bold move, putting your body closer to his while strengthening your hold on his shoulder.

"but, regardless of that, i would truly like to work with you, mr. kim. my group wishes to. i'd like to try it with you, and i hope you can make good use of ateez in the future, as well as lending a hand for us to step further, higher, and better in the business." you declared. "i'm not blind. i know what's happening between your family and the lees, and i don't have a say in it at all. but i would like for you to consider work between ateez and the kims, unrelated to any of the lees." you reassured.

and lastly, for the cherry on top, you stared straight on his eyes, pleading.

"give us the chance to prove ourself, mr. kim."

younghoon just stared at you, while his brain processed everything you just said. you were right, the kims main business in the medicine field were compatible with kang industries that yeosang ran with his sister. that alone could be a reason for the both of you to actually talk business with each other.

he was a businessman after all, any chance is worth something if you pursue it first.

the music stopped, meaning the dance session ended. clapping sounds were heard all over the hall. you took your hands off of younghoon's, bowing at the said man.

you thought it just ended like that, but it took you by surprise when younghoon took your hand in his, raising your knuckles to his lips before landing a gentlemanly kiss ok the back of your hand. his eyes never left you when he sent you a soft smile.

"i'll have my secretary invite ateez for a business talk. as soon as the gala ends" he stated, before continuing, "it was a nice dance, mrs. jung."

"party's done. everyone retreating in ten."

wooyoung chugged down his champagne while scanning around the room, giving nods to every member in his sight as a sign. he greeted the rest of his acquaintance, before leaving the scene.

just as he was about to exit the hall, a hand landed on his shoulder, stopping him in his track. a once scowl on his face turned into a friendly smile when he turned around and was greeted by seo changbin.

"my man, binnie!" he gave the buff man a hug, not to mention a tap on his back. "what's up?"

"not much. are you guys leaving already?" he asked while looking around, noting some ateez members already heading out of the hall. he clicked his tongue in an unapproved manner. "it's still early, though. how am i gonna catch up with my best friend?" he lightly pouted.

"the only thing you'll catch is these hands if you ever do that thing again." wooyoung jested, and changbin only laughed.

once the laugh died down, he took a step closer to wooyoung, lowering his voice as he watched around.

"got some words from chan. mind sparing me some time?"

wooyoung lifted his wrist to watch the time. he still got eight minutes left. he nodded at changbin before leading the man away from the crowd, opting for a quieter side of the hall just by its door.

"what's up? business doing okay?" he asked.

changbin only shrugged, "it's fine. work here and there, cusses, blood, what's new?" then he raised his hand to rest on wooyoung's shoulder. "congrats to ateez, by the way." he complimented.

he then stated, "it's the talk of the town right now, you know? the fact that ateez, a gang took down a royal family, by a new member no less. i'm talking about your wife, mrs. jung y/n." changbin chuckled lightly when he saw a change in wooyoung's expression, a cocky smirk along with a subtle red tint on his cheeks. a sense of pride rose within wooyoung.

"a good catch they say."

wooyoung almost giggled. "damn right. thanks for the words though,"

done with the chitchat, changbin cleared his throat as he turned to wooyoung.

"chan said he met your wife at some casual networking party just a couple months ago, hongjoong did the introduction. safe to say he was intrigued." wooyoung turned his head to changbin upon his choice of words.

lifting a brow, he chuckled. "same thing happened to me before i married her."

changbin clicked his tongue, "not in that way, of course." he objected, slightly cringing over the thoughts of his boss creating a drama worthy act like that. "you know chan, you've heard about it, right? that he rarely missed when it comes to judging someone, especially the businessmen or women."

"i've heard some of it. and what about it?"

"the other day he sort of said something about y/n and talents, that she could be a big thing soon. and surprise, surprise, not long after that the news came like a fucking thunder, a shock to everyone and especially chan. ateez was about to lose but she just casually lifted you up and took down the whole family."

checking at his watch, he quickly pointed out. "so, what does he want exactly?"

"chan's got an info. an inside job. new weapon supplies and exchanges, i'm talking new types and big money. the job's too big to take for us alone and he already thought of making a collaboration between our team since ateez got a good capo, and you got mingi and yunho on weaponries. your reputations preceded you," he exhaled, before continuing. "but ever since he met y/n and heard of the news, he wanted to go even further. chan wants y/n in the job. with your captain's permission, of course, but he wants her to directly sit on the table where he and hongjoong will be. chan wanted me to tell you that, and he hopes to hear good answers from hongjoong."

by the time changbin was done with his explanations, wooyoung was already stunned. he was taken aback at the fact that you rose so quick to be able to catch other's attention. he was slightly agape, eyes widened. to be able to stand beside hongjoong, to sit right next to him is to be next to the captain by rank. though unofficial, the conversation itself could be a proof that you're an equal to seonghwa and yeosang.

you had him floored, truly.

"could you please try to put some words to hongjoong? chan really wants this." changbin's plead broke wooyoung's train of thoughts.

he nodded lightly. "i'll see what i can do," he promised the man.

he lifted his wrist once more. seeing the time had passed, he took a step back. "i have to go now. i'll let you know of the outcome soon."

"wait!" changbin almost yelled, stopping wooyoung on his track.

"what?" he asked. changbin hurriedly walk to wooyoung as his hands dug around his suit pocket. upon finding the item, he quickly put the piece of paper in wooyoung's pocket.

"i almost forgot." changbin moved closer towards wooyoung and whispered, "come to the show. capos business. yeonjun found a new spot, some rough diamonds ready to be trained if you're recruiting new members."

he stepped back, tapping on wooyoung's pocket before retreating.

"thank me later."

“they’re leaving the premises, sir.” 

the minion retreated, leaving juyeon and his champagne on the balcony. his eyes watched as a couple of cars left his mansion, particularly the last car that carried you and your husband.

it was something that he used to love to do with his father; watching people come and go. the only difference were his father is no longer around, and that it has become his job.

upon watching the way you sway in the dress he gave, hand in hand with your husband as you got in the car, he gripped on his glass harder as he tried to breathe, not even realizing he was holding his breath the entire time. there was this uneasiness, a storm brewing in the pit of his stomach. he didn’t believe in anything unworldly or superstitious, but he believed in himself. of what he sees, what he feels, what he understands.

it didn’t take long for him to saw power in ateez.

one that could endanger his, though he didn’t know the source nor the reason for it. for that, he’ll have to dig deeper.

“something’s coming.” he murmured, enough to be heard by another party standing behind him. he whispered again, “i can feel it in my bones.”

park jipsa, the one who stood behind him sighed, “are you afraid?”

“never.”

“then you’ll know what to do.”

if there ever was something brighter than the sun, it must’ve been hongjoong’s grin, pulled all the way back showing his pearly smiles you thought his skin would soon tear apart.

the man was practically beaming.

and you silently took pride in being one of the reason so.

“business looking good.”

“damn right it is.”

it was just you, hongjoong, seonghwa, and yeosang in the room. breakfast was done and group meeting ended, yet the ambitious man kept you around to discuss everything further. there were papers scattered, calls made, and coffees on the table.

“i’ve checked around,” yeosang chipped in, while rearranging the documents discussed for the meeting, “if we’re actually working with the kims, emphasize on if, if everything works, we’ll have easier access to some of our stuff, both importing and exporting. the drug development is looking good right now, and we’ll have much exposure with their help. we’re gonna make more money soon.”

“that sounds good, yeosang. great, actually.” hongjoong beamed, smiling at yeosang. the man stood near his desk, phone still in his hand, just finishing a deal went well.

seonghwa chuckled, “you feel good?”

“fuck yeah, hwa. yeah i feel good.” he almost screamed. “of course i feel good, everything’s looking good like this. and if it actually works i might do a somersault myself.”

“you look like you’re gonna do that now.”

you laughed along with the guys.

after pacing back and forth, energetically, and with happy thoughts one would assume the mafia leader might be a child trapped in a man’s body, hongjoong finally sat down. he tapped his fingers on the table, before finally making up his mind, pointing at each party around him.

“okay, here’s what. we have so much in our hands right now, but i’d like for everything to work out and i put my trust in you guys,” hongjoong stared at each of you, “i’m all in for you.”

he pointed at seonghwa. “i’m sending seonghwa to japan to settle down. you’ll be our representation there hwa, until i finish things in here. the most important thing is to make a powerful link to that family.” he said, moving to yeosang as soon as seonghwa nodded his head.

“yeosang, as usual with kang industries, but i want you to bring y/n around as a representative too. she’s gonna be the link between us to the kims and drug business, so it’s good for the both of you.”

you and yeosang couldn’t help but to stole glances, surprised by the mission but acknowledging each other still.

hongjoong raised his phone, tapping it several times before speaking again, “wooyoung got words from chan last night, and chan just made a call this morning. he wants a collaboration between our group for a job. there are new weapons coming in, big job. chan’s got his hand on it but figured it’d be too big to handle alone, but dangerous if handled by too many. so we’re in, and i’m also taking y/n in this, per chan’s request.”

he turned to you. “you’re gonna have so much in your hands this time, you know this right?”

you nodded.

“but with stray kids, you’ll just be a spectator on the table. i’ll handle the big game with chan. i want you to focus more on the kims and kang industries. your main job right now is the kims. do you understand?”

“yes.”

“good.”

birds fly fast.

but the rumors flew faster in this house.

it didn’t take long for everyone in this house to find out about you. and your new… job. or perhaps rank. a housewife turned… consigliere? underboss? hongjoong hasn’t give you an official rank within the group yet. however it didn’t take a genius to see how high up your position were.

you’re working straight with yeosang, second in command in ateez next to seonghwa, ateez’s face and representative in the outside world. your job was as important as seonghwa’s, hongjoong’s righthand man, the underboss of ateez. each of every job you’ve done you’d report back straight to hongjoong, and hongjoong took you almost everywhere he goes.

on top of that, you’ve been giving counsels to hongjoong even before you had your debut in the underworld.

you’re as good as a consigliere, just not officially, yet.

there was contentment, of course, yet it also comes with burdens. one that you fear you wouldn’t be able to bear. but you will do your best, for your family. for wooyoung. to make him proud.

and he couldn’t be more proud of you.

wherever ateez goes, wherever he goes, he wouldn’t stop gushing about you every time someone brought your name up. lowkey, of course. just to make sure everyone knows you’re his wife. that you’re great, yes, but you’re definitely off limits.

exactly like tonight.

he eyed the piece of paper in his hand, before eyeing the traditional restaurant in front of him. it was a small, dimly-lit building. an old woman walked around, delivering orders though not much, as they didn’t have much customers for the night.

he fished out his phone out from his pocket, typing a name before pressing the call button.

“hello?” changbin’s voice rang through his speaker.

“i’m outside. are you sure this is the place?” wooyoung asked, throwing glances with yunho, jongho, and san behind him.

“it’s a small restaurant, right? did you see the old lady?”

“yeah? and?”

changbin chuckled, “just get in. take a seat, and when she asked for your order, just ask her if mr. kim’s soju is on the menu today. come fast, the match’s about to start.” and with that, changbin hanged up.

putting his phone back on his pocket, he whisked his head, signaling the boys to enter the place with him. they took a table, and before long, the old lady came to their table, asking for their orders. wooyoung looked around, making sure no one’s hearing them, before getting closer to the lady.

“is mr. kim’s soju on the menu today?”

the old lady just smiled and nodded. “it’s stored just right there. come along and pick for yourself, young man.”

that’s how they got into the hidden basement deep under the ground, by an elevator just behind the fridge in the kitchen.

when the elevator stopped, changbin was standing in the hallway. he greeted them with a smile, shaking wooyoung’s hand firmly.

“cool place, right?” he quipped, then shook hands with jongho, yunho, and san.

changbin led them further into the basement. even from the hallway, rough noises were already heard, and it got louder as they got closer.

illegal fights weren’t a secret anymore. but as they got deeper, more secluded, the more blood got spilled, the more animalistic the fighters get, the bigger the prize. this is where the mafias recruit new members, new associates.

the rings were surrounded by rough looking men, some older, some younger. the fighter on the ring looked all bloody and bruised, but still standing on their feet fighting for their life. hollers here and there, nothing new.

they all took a table not far from the ring. yeonjun and beomgyu were seen, along with jisung and jeongin. they greeted each other.

“the consigliere’s husband!” yeonjun quipped with a playful tap on wooyoung’s back. wooyoung chuckled. with pride, of course.

“so what’s the hype?” wooyoung asked, half yelling to catch yeonjun’s attention. the lad pointed his finger to each rings, getting himself close to wooyoung and the others.

“gems. lots of them,” he yelled, pointing at one of the ring, “see that guy over there?” he asked, pointing at a tall man, not buff, but muscular and calculative enough to look not so affected while his opponent looked like he’s about to faint.

yeonjun spoke again, “he’s an ex NIS agent. i think he got ousted, betrayed, whatever. and that’s just one of the few. there are other fighters, former gang members, ex police, ex NIS, ex professionals— whatever we’re looking for. so take a pick!” he said, before continuing.

“but be careful, they also might be onto something if they go this deep. either all in or all out.”

the pungent smell of blood was nothing new, combined with the smell of sweat of all people, burnt cigarettes, liquors of all kinds. in fact, none of them seemed to be distracted by any of the smell, the sound, or even the people who were drunk off their minds falling around them.

their eyes, especially wooyoung’s were focused on each ring or around the room, scanning all within the room trying to find new recruits or maybe new connections.

a bell was heard, a ring near them just announced a winner before quickly moving on. a pair of new fighters stepped onto the ring, one of them a rough looking men, presumably already fought a fight before this one, and his opponent…

…a woman?

her hair was tied up, cuts and bruises here and there but not enough to disguise her beauty. physically she’s far smaller than the man, less muscular, yet she hold no fear in her eyes.

“what’s a pretty girl doing in this hellhole?” wooyoung murmured,

right before the girl ducked down and punched his opponent right on his chest, hard enough to make him cut his breath. then landed a punch to his right cheek, followed by his left cheek. and a final kick to his head, quickly sending the man to his sleep, hopefully not an eternal one.

and that’s how she won the game.

not to mention leaving wooyoung speechless. that was a quick game. and she looked like a gem. a fighter like that would make jobs easier, faster, and more efficient.

he was deep in his thoughts, until san nudged him, “are you seeing what i’m seeing?”

wooyoung looked back at san, observing his line of sight, only to bring his eyes back to the said woman.

a gem in sight indeed.

“her?”

“yes, her. we need her. i want her. we gotta take her.” he mouthed. he then pulled wooyoung by the shoulder, and proceeded to stare into wooyoung’s eyes with the most serious look he could muster. “seriously wooyoung, i can’t handle this charmer—grifter shit alone anymore. we need a charmer. and i mean it.”

“san, we’re on budget and we’re here to look for a bodyguard—“ he was about to state but san had cut him off.

“did you not see the way she threw that punches? she can be a bodyguard. she is muscle.”

“yes, but—“ wooyoung hesitated, “i don’t know man, a lady bodyguard?”

san gasped. “that’s discrimination, what the fuck?”

“not in that way!” wooyoung bit back, “i don’t know man, i’m just not sure. she’s all great, it’s just—”

“but what?” san pressed.

san wasn’t wrong, they do need a charmer. san was the only charmer ateez had— they do have others, just not as good as san, hence the lad had to do most jobs by himself. the last time they had a good charmer other than san, but they got killed in action.

being a grifter, a charmer, he did get to know most thing and even on the deeper part of the underworld. any place he want, anyone, he could get through anything, most of the times. but ultimately, he was fed up. doing what he did best alone might finally took a toll on him.

so with the hard look, now turned puppy eyes, there was no way wooyoung could say no to san, the charmer himself.

he sighed. “you know what? fuck that. go and get her if you want.”

there were probably fireworks bursting behind san’s eyes, that’s the only logical reason (though far from logic itself) for the sparkle in his eyes. choi san quickly bolted away from the table, adamant on getting and recruiting the woman.

wooyoung, with yunho and jongho on the other hand sticked to the main plan; find new muscles to recruit. yeonjun, changbin and their own gang were soon scattered around the basement with their own mission to accomplish. jongho was still looking around, and yunho was still seen talking to the possible recruits.

wooyoung was just talking to one of the possible recruit, giving them his business card when san pulled him away to a corner. he kept guiding on wooyoung with this grin on his face, pushing him around until wooyoung finally faced the lady they’ve been talking about.

“so this is wooyoung,” san made the intro, “he’s our trainer, supervisor, and not to mention my best friend. and we—” he stepped back behind wooyoung, “—are interested in taking you in with us.”

taking a good look in the closer distance, she looked even better. her skin looked soft, save some scratches and scars here and there, but they were mostly healed leaving just a white mark. her eyes were brown, and like when she was on the ring, had this striking look.

this one’s definitely a charmer. she just needs to be guided, and they got a perfect teacher for her. stretching his hand out, wooyoung offered her a formal handshake.

“wooyoung.”

she watched his stretched hand for a while. the unsure glint in her eyes started to flicker along the time, and she finally took wooyoung’s hand.

“son jiwoo.”

the tall, black door seemed so big and scary.

despite it being just a plain door to a restaurant.

you might think it’s the door, but a part of you knew more than that. that wasn’t just a door you had to pass, a restaurant you must enter.

kim younghoon was waiting somewhere in that restaurant for you. this was going to be your first meeting with younghoon, and you gotta make sure it’s going well. this is your first big mission, as a member of ateez.

you straighten your floral dress, fixing any possible crease before stepping inside. a waiter came to your aid, giving their best smile, “may i help you?”

you smiled back. “i have a reservation, with mr. kim younghoon. is he here?”

the waiter smiled even wider, “ah, madam! yes, mr. kim has been waiting for you. let me take your jacket.” they spoke, as they pulled your jacket off of you. “if you please follow me, madam.”

the waiter guided you to a table near the glass window, where you found younghoon sitting in a formal, yet casual look. the white fitted top and light brown pants. upon the announcement of your arrival, kim younghoon turned his head, offering you a smile so bright. the gentlemen even stood up, pulling your seat for you instead of letting the waiter do that for you.

“you look nice.” he complimented.

“and you more. i thought the suits were your best look, but these? gorgeous.”

he chuckled, “trying to charm me straight away, i see.”

“yes, but some truth can’t be hidden for too long. i also have to charm my future colleague for a chance, right?” you quipped back, earning a soft laugh from younghoon.

“you’re straightforward. i like it, it’s also the way that i am and used to.” he said. he laid back to his chair, looking at you before asking, “a straightforward man gotta speak his mind, am i right?”

“yes they do, i suppose.”

he took your answer in silence. he looked out through the window, watching the bright afternoon sky and people on the street,, seemingly deep in thoughts. gone were the light atmosphere when you got there.

then younghoon spoke one sentence and a question. the easiest way to phrase and conclude your whole mission.

“i know juyeon sent you to fix things between our families. correct?”

upon the sudden intrusion, your body froze for a second. your lips almost quivered, letting out broken words, having nothing to come up with. kim younghoon fired a bullet and it hit right on the bullseye. and he didn’t even mention anything about anything work related, despite that being one of your most important reason to pursue him.

younghoon’s eyes were back on you, and you had no choice but to spit the truth out.

“yes, you’re right, mr. kim,” you sighed, but not yet defeated. “and i’m aware of… the gap between your families, that it’s not in a good condition.”

“how much did you know?”

“that your family was a supporter to lee jiyoung back when the war was happening.” you stated.

he clicked his tongue, “i wish it was as easy as that, mrs. jung.” he sighed as he leaned back onto his chair.

“i wish to help in many ways, mr. kim. in this way, because juyeon sent me for this reason. but other than that, a work with your family is what my family aim for. a personal gain. both, or one of them is enough for me and i’m willing to do the job.” you told him, straightforwardly. “is there something i can do to fix this?”

“to fix the gap between the lees and kims? i don’t know, mrs. jung. i’m not sure if there’s a way at all,” he shrugged.

but he quickly added in, “but, regarding ateez and my family, i think we both have a chance for that. i’ve spoken with my father, and maybe, just maybe, if this works, we’ll consider juyeon’s purpose of… mending the two families. now the question remain; would you take the job, and could you do it well?”

“i’m willing to try and do my best for anything.”

“anything?”

“anything.”

the man smiled, grinning almost. “then it starts now.” he said. younghoon raised his hand, catching the sight of a waiter.

entrees were served, followed by main dishes. younghoon and you talked about each other, and he talked a lot about himself.

how he and his brother were raised in england, before moving at the age of 15 back to korea. he went to university, took classes in law school before graduating, not only from a prestigious uni but also with honors. since that, he’s been helping his father around along with his brother regarding their family business, as they’re the ones who’s going to take their father’s place place someday.

kim younghoon was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

yet he seemed far from those whiny nepo babies who fed themselves off of their father’s pocket, but act like they rule the whole world. his family’s money might back him up, but he ruled his own brain, branding himself as the smart and hardworking guy from a wealthy family who could lead even without his father’s hand in the matter.

in short, he’s a man that everyone dreams to become.

the conversation went smooth up until dessert was served. you couldn’t help yourself but to blurt out, “so, what’s the job? when am i gonna do it?”

“oh, we’re actually doing it right now,” he quipped, putting another slice of cake into his mouth.

“what?”

younghoon didn’t say anything, only flicking his hand to call for the waiter. the waiter soon came with a bright smile as they put a velvet box right in front of you. not forgetting to say what a lucky woman to have a partner like that.

a partner?

you were still not functioning perfectly, still deep in your thoughts and confused even when younghoon pushed the velvet box towards you. “open it.” he said.

“mr. kim, i— i’m, i’m not sure i—“ you had stuttered, but he silenced you up.

“just open the box.”

per his command, your hands moved to open the box. upon the first touch, you could feel the soft velvet under your fingers, quickly understanding the high quality of the box, and perhaps, the item within it. curiosity might kill the cat, but not you, you believed as you opened the box and found a piece of necklace within it. a pearl necklace stared back at you from that box.

wordlessly, younghoon stood up. he took the necklace out of its box before bringing it near your neck. his hands softly moved your hair to the side, and you quickly responded by bunching your hair in your fist, giving him access to your bare neck. as he put on the necklace, he lowered his lips next to your ear.

“you’ll find a woman to your right, dressed in all green. she’s mrs. han, a socialite in gangnam and wife to mr. han, one of the most important people in the ministry of health,” he whispered to you, “she knows me, and might’ve been watching us since the beginning. she has a daughter around our age and she had been wanting to… arrange a marriage between our families.”

“and my job is…?”

finishing on putting the necklace on, younghoon simply smiled to you. “…to be my partner. fiancee, girlfriend, whatever. to put on a show. i don’t want to be engaged in that way, but i have a brother and he’s willing to do that in my stead,”

“there’s an upcoming socialite party, and a little birdie told me you’re quite… persuasive,” he started to explain, “if you can get us an invitation, put some good words and convince her to make an arrangement between her daughter and my brother, you’ll have your way with my family. you see, we need this connection. a connection with her husband makes it easier for our drug business, even in exporting and importing. mr. han is one of the man ruling the country. prove yourself, and my father promises to invite you for a dinner, to talk about future business with ateez. even with the lees. and the offer’s still up even though you only succeeded in securing an invitation for us to the party.”

he straightened his back, offering his hand to you, “there’s still a chance to back out.”

you weren’t sure, but you shook your head and took his hand, “i won’t.”

younghoon smiled, almost so brightly, a quick change from his previous hard demeanor. he landed a long lasting kiss on the back of your hand, another added shock to you. you almost stuttered and about to pull your hand when he spoke,

“the necklace looks dashing on you, sweetheart.” he almost purred, shocking you.

“kim younghoon?”

the latter’s voice stopped you from pulling away. younghoon simply turned to the lady who called his name, giving her a smile.

“mrs. han,” he greeted back, bowing slightly, “good to see you again.”

mrs. han only chuckled, “then you should’ve visit me more often. i haven’t seen you around in any of my gatherings.” she looked behind younghoon, at you. “and i certainly have never seen this lovely lady with her lovely necklace around.” she quipped.

younghoon gave his hand for you to take, and you did, standing up from your seat next to him. “let me introduce you to my fiancee, y/n. she’s the reason i’m not around much, mrs. han. you can blame her for it.” he once again kissed your hand in a cheeky manner, and you giggled following his act. “i can’t seem to get her out of my life.” he continued.

you bowed slightly to the lady, offering her a sweet smile. “my name is y/n, pleasure to meet you mrs. han. younghoon told me many things about you.” you introduced yourself.

“all the good things, i hope.”

“don’t worry ma’am, he made me think you’re a great woman. and it shows now.”

she laughed, feeling content with your answer.

“and he didn’t forget to tell me how much of a good host you are for your party.” you smirked, starting your mission.

by the time you came home, it was almost midnight. you knew wooyoung would’ve fallen asleep by then, so you tiptoed your way into your room, with your heels in your hands.

your heart almost jumped out of your chest when the light suddenly turned on.

“where have you been?”

“shit, woo!” you cussed while holding your chest, almost panting. “baby? why aren’t you sleeping?”

wooyoung sat on the edge of your bed with his arms folded as he stared at you. “obviously, i was waiting for you.” he deadpanned, “you know i couldn’t sleep without you. so where have you been?”

you exhaled, feeling guilty that you left the man waiting for until midnight, completely forgetting the existence of modern phones and to tell him of your whereabouts. “oh, baby,” you walked up to him, cradling his face in your palms.

“i’m so sorry i made you wait,” you kissed his forehead, “i had lunch with kim younghoon, and he gave me a task. i spent the whole day planning and then reporting to hongjoong, and we had a last minute meeting with stray kids. i should’ve told you, that’s my mistake,” you explained. wooyoung sighed defeatedly, finally accepting your apologies. he circled his hands on your waist.

“it’s okay.” he muttered.

you told him to get ready for bed, while you freshen up in the bathroom, finally ready to end the night. your body felt warm, being in your comfiest pajamas, and your heart follows when you saw wooyoung on bed tucked nicely under the blanket, with his arm stretched out welcoming you in his embrace.

“how was today’s scouting?” you asked with a small voice.

“it was okay,” he answered, listing the things he had done. “got some new muscles that i gotta train. met yeonjun and changbin. and… oh!” he gasped, making you look up to him.

“what is it?”

“you know, me and san found this girl while scouting, she was badass,” he said and you could practically see the sparks in his eyes, “she fought this buff man in like, 5 seconds, though i think the man was more of muscle than skills, but isn’t that cool? san wanted her so bad he ran straight to her after the fight.”

“anyways i didn’t want to scout her at first but san would probably held me on a gunpoint if i refuse him—“ you both laughed, “—yeah right? so long story short we probably got ourselves a new charmer. i think san’s gonna teach her more, but i’ll still have to take part in physical training.”

you hummed, “san fell in love at the first sight, huh?”

wooyoung nodded, “i think i did too.”

you playfully hit his chest, making him wince dramatically as he held his chest.

“jung wooyoung! don’t you dare fall in love with her!” you threatened him. the bastard husband of yours grinned.

“are you jealous?”

“hm, i don’t know. what would you think if i hooked up with kim younghoon?”

“hey!” he whined, clearly not liking the idea of you and another man side by side. not even one bit. and that was something everyone know, and some even witnessed it with their own eyes, referring to your previous encounter with lee juyeon.

you laughed to his blatant jealousy, and maybe, seeing the smile in your face and the sound of your melodic laugh to his ears were the reason for him laughing along with you.

wooyoung pulled you close to his body, putting his chin on top of your head. the smell of your shampoo invaded his nose, and somewhat it relaxed him all the time. maybe it’s your shampoo, or maybe, it’s the fact that you’re close to him.

he breathes slowly, but you could hear his heart beating fast behind his chest. some things change, but you realize one thing stays the same; his heartbeat. whenever you put your head to his chest you always hear the same fast beat from his heart.

and you know yours beats the way his did.

“i can never love anyone else but you.”

his voice pierced through the silence as he murmured the words into your hair.

maybe it was his voice. maybe it was the sentence, the words. maybe it’s both things combined, the reason why you feel such warmth in your heart and the pleasant butterflies flying in your stomach. the combination of two simple things, yet magical enough for you to take it as a sign of love.

love.

you buried your face into his chest, trying to hide your smile. all you could say was, “i love you, woo.”

simple sentence that also warmed his heart.

to both lovers like you, those moment felt like it’s just you both against the world. in your vows; both in happiness or sadness.

“will i see you again?”

wooyoung suddenly asked. the nature of the question making you pull away from him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“what kind of question is that?” you asked back, looking up to his face.

he seemed doubtful, that was clearly painted all over his face, visible from his eyes, the way it glinted.

wooyoung sighed. “i don’t know. you have a job, so many things to do now that hongjoong trusts you. and i’m happy for you, baby, i truly do, it’s just—“ he hesitated for a while before continuing.

“it’s— what if you get busier? what if we get so busy that… that we can’t even share a proper meal together like we used to? what if we can’t see each other as much as we used to back when we have less things to do? what if i can’t even hug you in my sleep at night? what if—“

“—what if we changed so much and turn in a direction we don’t want?”

late night thoughts do bring the most genuine question. and his was a valid one.

it’s no secret that marriage, no matter how sweet, how hot or cold, can suddenly turn lukewarm, tasteless, or even turn sour over the time.

that would be a nightmare. one that can turn very real, in any time, near or far.

to imagine a tasteless marriage life with your passionate husband made you crawl closer to him, burying your face in his chest to seek more warmth. the more seconds went the more you appreciate his prescence. taking in everything you could.

just in case it’d be your last.

“i promise we won’t turn that way, my love. i’ll do anything to keep us together. keep us, keep you safe.” you murmured into his chest.

“you just have to promise to love me still. like this. even when times go rough, when it eats us inside out, body and soul. even with the last sparks of love you have for me, love me. until i’m not here beside you.” you continued. you felt suffocated, unconsciously the littlest sniffle got out of you with the tears. “you’re all i have, wooyoung.”

desperation in it’s truest form.

but it’s true, you have no one but your husband. no family, no nothing. not even a life, if it was not for the past, or the present, given by your husband and his kin. and now that you’ve associated yourself with them, you, who used to have nothing, now have something. and it fears you to imagine losing them.

to go back to the solitude you were in before.

hearing your cries crushed him. he tightened his hands around you, securing you in his grasp, giving you the most comfort one could give. he might regret the way he voiced out his concerns today, yet it was an important question within your relationship.

and a silent way to say that he fears of losing you, too.

“i’m here, baby. i love you,” he said, giving a peck on your hair,

“and i promise to keep that love for as long as i live.”

NOT EVEN HALFWAY BUT I STILL WANNA FINISH THE WHOLE THING. enjoy. both in reading and waiting uwu

also we’re getting closer to… the start of the angst.

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leggerefiore · 6 days

Note

if you would be willing to write about that ib dream you had with any characters.. the aesthetic of that game fits so well..

using ingo and Emmet over Cyrus though it was him. Most of this is more of me expanding on it.

Just maybe going on a blind date that a friend set you up with at a local gallery. You wander around, maybe interested or unnerved by the art pieces. The artist is not someone well known to you, but you went as it was a public area with people around. Eventually, however, you go through a certain hallway and find yourself captured by a large painting. The light flicker and distress you. Letters seem to appear on the floor, inviting you somewhere.

Deeper you go into the strange gallery, falling into a painting and ending up with a strange rose that seems to determine your vitality. You can only wander and solve increasingly complicated puzzles. Gruesome choices seem to be a common regard. Somewhere you find a strange man after his rose had been taken from him. He introduces himself as Grimsley and takes his rose back from you. An offer to work together does not intrigue him so much, but you do stay within a certain range of him. He mentions seeing another man in his exploration, but they never really had a chance for a conversation.

Though, somehow, you end up separated from Grimsely completely after a wrong turn. When you moved back around, there was a wall where you swore there was a hallway previously. You wander alone for a moment. It was distressing being completely alone after being with another person in this strange gallery. Before you can fall too far into despair, you heard footsteps. You rushed around a nearby corner to see someone – no, two people. They stood side by side, clearly surprised to see another person themselves. You stared at them and how unreal they almost seemed for a moment. Their identical features almost were too perfect. They introduced themselves in a trained manner. Ingo and Emmet.

Both offered to walk with you through the gallery, seeing it was best to be in a group together. You wandered with them in a certain ease, slowly gaining something like trust towards them. Ingo was polite and amicable. His conversation made the puzzles feel less stressful and the oppressing atmosphere more bearable. Emmet often worked to solve the puzzles, almost as if he were trying to impress you. Both helped you relax a bit.

You make it quite further until you finally reach Grimsley again. He seems panicked about something and asks you to come alone with him. You struggle to do so, not sure about his shift in behaviour. Emmet's gaze even narrows at him, clearly not trusting him either. Whether you follow him or not really determines your fate.

The truth about the twins could finally be revealed, and you could work with the gambler to get out of this world while sadly having to burn a painting of two beautiful, identical men reflecting one another. Reality comes without memories for a moment until you encounter Grimsely again, and both you recall the nightmare. You even come to the realisation that he was your blind date partner. Maybe something blooms from the shared experience. Or, you could stay with the twins and remain ignorant. Leave with them and create a new reality, one where you perhaps had chosen to go on a date with your boyfriend (or boyfriends). They are all too eager to leave the gallery after seeing how unwell you apparently look.

#ingo.ima #emmet.ima

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lonelysucker7 · 6 months

Text

Strangers on a Train

⚠️ Chapter 2 ⚠️

Pairing: Kaine Parker x gn!Reader

Summary: You’re just an average person making their daily living, surviving adulthood as it is. You live in Houston, Texas where even the hero the Scarlet Spider lives. And then there’s a guy, who looks like he’s gone through hell, on a train you’re crushing on.

Word count: 3.9 k

Warnings: mentions of violence (but very brief), criticism towards art, parental issues (also brief), profanity once again!!

Not proofread!! But enjoy!!! ☺️

⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴

The doors didn’t open until 11.

It was a Wednesday, and lucky for you it was a promised short day. Your work didn’t require much as a tour guide. Walk, talk, and answer questions for the art enthusiasts or students from schools that booked their tickets for days like these. And people talked. Often, even with your short time, this went on for hours without a stop.

Every art was displayed for the eye with the likes of van Gogh and Matisse, but obviously van Gogh was for the win. You’ve lost count how much you explained the importance of his life work so you didn’t really need to rehearse any mental notes and directions you were going to use. With much ease, you walked through the halls of the museum, pointing and gesturing with your hands around his paintings, remarking about the paint strokes delicately put into the work and adding backstory to them.

Occasionally there were the usual interruptions with “experts” who bragged about their knowledge regarding the tragic painter. Patiently you kept hearing them go on and on, until letting them finish when they took the hint from the crowd they wanted to move on. You didn’t bat an eye, thanking them for their contribution but silently remarking in sarcasm

“Well fuck, have my job and live my life!”

As you passed by van Gogh's Self-Portrait, you heard the crowd behind you murmuring amongst themselves in admiration. You stopped with them in front of a dark room with the exception of the interior displaying hanging LED lights, falling down from the ceiling in the style of vines colored in violets and pinks. The background offered the effect of neon lights sprawling across the walls in a manner of adding that mystic effect. It was a small forest of wonder after all.

“This is ‘Pipilotti Rist’s: Pixel Forest and Worry Will Vanish’. The artist hailing from Switzerland is always testing art in technology, intending them to be very engaging with her themes of naturalism and wonder. Composed with LED lights in the form of hanging vines and a new art form expressing human regeneration as visual imagery. There are even couches in there to relax in and dream alongside the projections shown on the walls. Maybe losing yourselves in a fantasy wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I recommend it,” you suggested with a slight smile. You stood near the doorway, scooting aside to let others take a small peak at the show.

Behind you, you hear a soft snort coming from behind the walls. Looking over your shoulder, you immediately frown with a roll of your eyes as you notice the familiar someone. Your co-worker/ friend, Bethany grinned to herself as she mimicked your speech, mouthing the words while puppeting it on her hand. Holding the urge not to call her out in the middle of the crowd, you made a small quick clap and urged your crowd to continue with you to finish the tour.

“Tickets will be available once the date is posted on the website. There will be rules regarding the exhibition so make sure to look over those if you intend on bringing children or other!”

………………………………………………………………………….

“You had me in the first half, I won’t lie. I mean, I thought your whimsy quips didn't manage to weave itself in your talk like it does out of nowhere. Because if it didn’t, I wouldn't believe you’d talk that professional.”

“Mmm, well, when you spend so much time talking about works on illusions and dreams coming to a reality, I guess you get sucked in it too. Just happens.”

The first group of touring was done for the first hour and a half, and now you found yourself having a scrutinizing conversation with Bethany about your style of work. You both were in the average noise breakroom, taking your lunch break while still keeping the time.

Getting the job was hard but you managed that getting yourself out there to effectively communicate with people required you to get yourself out of your comfort zone first.

Easy said, easy done.

One sacrifice to offer to the devil of the work was all you needed. Pretty soon your boss became impressed with your way of words, even when it seemed you lacked effort in them at first.

When you told your parents about your job, you expected them to be a little less than happy about it. That expectation was quickly dismissed as they were thrilled you had finally achieved a job (even more when they heard insurance was graciously offered to you.) Your dad joked with you about sending money their way, but you’d always cut it off with the excuse of your break coming to an end. Same case with your mom, though it was more about your college degree even being used at all.

“So what was all that money for?”

You didn’t know how to respond without becoming upset.

And you met Bethany, the security guard, meandering in the locker room. A rough start as she searched through your duffle bag for a pack of cigarettes, and to her disappointment, you didn’t have any. But you offered her gum instead and she took it without hesitation. And throughout the months that came, you got to know her better and became friends. She was in her late 30’s, single, not so much of a hopeless romantic instead preferring to stay on the side of logic and reason.

A bit “evil” you wanted to say, maybe a little too noisy but nevertheless you tolerated her presence and grew to appreciate her. Not once did she leave you out of any hot topic that roamed in the museum or her life, so you felt somewhat special being let in her inner circle.

“Ever watched that old Spanish film called ‘Open Your Eyes?’ You asked Bethany with an expectant stare from across the room. A perplexed expression crossed her features as she pulled out her casserole lunch from the microwave and made her way back to your table. She saw your sad looking ham sandwich in your hands and said

“No, why?” She tilted the veggie casserole towards you to offer in the stead of your meal and you kindly refused. You responded casually

“Because the exhibition that I talked about kinda reminds me of that movie. A dreamlike fantasy you end up losing yourself in because your reality sucks. That movie is all about that.”

Your friend made a small tsk and wagged her finger as she picked on her casserole.

“Don’t think it was the artist's literal intention to have you forget reality. Much less your worries actually vanish. All that is just for show.” Bethany mused as she picked her food, pushing away a piece of broccoli on the side of her plate. You frowned, staring at your ham sandwich with little interest. You replied assertively.

“Yeah but it's in the name. How can it not be?”

“I don’t know, I ain’t an expert in that okay? Answer it yourself.”

“Okay, fine.” A silence lingered over you both, until Bethany asked between mid-chew

“Why exactly did you ask?”

You mulled over the question of why. Maybe it was those people from the tour who interrupted so much. Maybe it was looking back on your old home life. Or the memories of what happened in the morning which flooded through your mind and you got goosebumps because of it. Suddenly you felt embarrassed to even tell. You wanted to hide under a rock from your reality. You confessed with a grim reply

“Cause I’m always wondering if my reality is a dream or my hell right now. Van Gogh was in a limbo, so where am I?”

Bethany being Bethany; cringed at the statement, making a disgusted face as she settled her fork down.

“Okay, okay enough with the philosophy and comparing yourself with dead artists. Look, I'll pinch you if you want to see if you're here with me, weirdo.”

At that you laughed breezily a bit and shook your head, responding smoothly

“No thanks, I’m good as it is. Anyways, I want to finish my lunch before I start touring again. That last group sure had its professionals. I was starting to wonder if I needed to call our boss and quit right on the spot just so they could do the job for me.” You took a bite of your sandwich with a slight grumble and chewed on it with a sigh. Bethany side glanced at you from her food and shrugged.

“Oh come on, you know Boss-man would cry if you left. You’re one of our best. You’re just overthinking it. Like you usually do with that guy on the train. Speaking of which….” Bethany leaned closer to you, you leaning back as a response from the grinchy like smile growing on her face as she rubbed her hands together.

“...You saw him again, didn’t ya?”

You stopped chewing midway of your food. No doubt you did tell her about the stranger. Fifty fifty you regret coming down to this, but she was your friend and you were dying to tell someone. In fact she was the only one you’ve told.

Bethany had remained invested in this topic for as long as you can remember, especially since you maintained your personal life private from many around you. Bethany knew some things. But glimpses of your romantic (if you wanted to coin it like that) life was like striking gold for dear Bethany.

Your eyes glanced away from her creepy smile and your mouth scrunched to the side as you mumbled

“Yes. And?”

Suddenly, she slams her palms on the table that shook with a rattle, causing you and others in the breakroom to jump. Looking back at her you almost yell with a slight strained voice, pieces of your sandwich falling abruptly on your lap.

“Was that necessary?!”

Bethany ignored you, and continued, “Did you finally ask if he was single?!”

You rolled your eyes as you shook your head, incling down at the floor from your seat as you picked up your mess from the floor.

“Of course I didn’t! You know I wouldn’t even think of asking him that. Would you have done the same?” You argued with your voice wavering a bit from the intensity, even breathing a little slowly to calm your nerves. Wrong question, you knew your answer already. Bethany crossed her arms and haughtily replied.

“Yeah, I would’ve done it if I was really that interested. Are you not? How long are ya gonna keep stalling yourself my dear co-worker? Can’t stand the idea of being rejected?”

Your brain couldn’t even process all that, leaving you gripping your thighs anxiously and your mouth gaping without a single word being uttered out. Once the calmness settled, you managed to hush out

“I’m trying… of sorts. Yeah, I’m scared shitless if I get rejected, who wouldn't? And good god Bethany, I already told you he doesn’t seem to be the type you straight up ask on those things…”

Bethany huffed a laugh, and shook her head as if she wasn’t taking that as an answer.

“Yeah but, how long have we been talking about this guy? It’s the same shit! ‘Oh I wanna talk with him this’ and ‘I wanna talk with him that—’ Please just do it, you’re killing meeeee…” Bethany whined, grabbing your shoulders from behind and shook you.

You flick your fingers on the hands on your shoulders and manage to get them off of you. As Bethany peers close to your face, you look back at her as a dark look crosses your eyes.

It finally came to your mind that you were still on your break and the whole staff room was staring at your commotion from the corner of the room. The sound of the water dripping from the sink could be heard in the background.

Pushing your chair back, you stood to let the blood flow through your legs again and moved to toss the pieces of sandwich near the garbage disposal. As you sat back down with a melancholic feeling, you mumbled,

“Everything at its time. Don’t rush me, okay?”

You buried your face in your hands continuing to mumble incoherent complaints in them. Bethany surrendered her hands in the air as she slumped in her seat and started to absentmindedly pick her casserole again.

“You're too respectful. You shouldn’t.”

You snapped your head up, glaring slightly.

“We’re strangers. I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me. Some random creep asking if you're single out of nowhere? That raises so many red flags if you hadn't noticed. You know what… think I might need that pinch now.”

Bethany reached to pat your back with mild consolation, still with that smug smile and a borderline joy of taking in your pain. Now you just felt tired and yearned to go home. Sadly it was only 2 in the afternoon so you’d need to wait 3 more hours. You then hear Bethany say in a tranquilizing tone

“Take it easy. Listen I know you’re a dreamer, and you keep dreaming okay? I don’t want to burst your bubble. But while that train keeps on moving and he keeps riding it, you should shoot your shot. Never know if he’s gonna be gone the next day. Uncanny events always force someone to move out of here.”

Hearing her make that statement, raises a the hairs in the back of your head. Maybe a part of you refused to accept that fact, but you knew it was the truth. It was either take it or leave it. How long you’ve spent pondering on the thought of talking to him… oh a very long time, that you already made yourself clear on the train. You clenched your jaw, gulping quietly as you spoke with hesitancy.

“I’ll try… but I’m sure things will end up falling short of my expectations.”

“No no, I’m certain you’re gonna do fine. You have a way with words. Your personality is pretty good. And you are…” Bethany leaned back to take your form from head to toe and back over again with an easy smile “...You’re pretty hot enough to catch someone's eye. Although I’m not saying looks are everything. Say, if he saw you today, did he make any sign that he looked even the slightest interested in you?”

You scratched your cheek for a minute or two in thought, then you finally shake your head and simply responded

“No.”

“No?” Bethany repeated bluntly. You shook your head again. You made a slight tilt as you added,

“Although we did hold a stare for about 15 seconds. Does that count?”

“Hmm, it's something. What else did he do?”

“Er, well he did this funny thing with his lip. It went back a bit. Like…like he tried to…” Bethany watched you intently as you reenacted the funny lip jump. She only thinned her lips as a teasing smile started to form, until she burst, pointing a finger at you gushing.

“Oh my god, did he try to smile at you?!” Bethany's smile must have reached its limit as it was already way too wide and way too disturbing to hold eye contact. You chuckled nervously with a half-shrug.

“I guess…? It would be a first actually.” An attempted smile from him… it made your chest feel fuzzy from that thought. Still though it could’ve meant anything. Bethany giggles, wrapping an arm around you and bringing you close to her. You winced a little, smelling the breath of onion from her casserole as she whispered.

“Just go talk to him. You know you’re brave. Wake up and make it a reality. Got one life, so don’t waste it.” She gave you a small shake in her arm, before the weight was lifted off of you. You fixed the collar of your uniform and looked at the time again. Your break was over. Her words of encouragement suddenly pushed you to actually want to do it.

Like previous times of course.

“I suppose so huh? Tomorrow we’ll see then. Thanks Bethany.”

She gave you a small thumbs up as you both stood up from your seats. Both of you then stepped outside of the breakroom, departing with a side hug and left to finish the day. You waved at your crowd from the end of the hallway on your left and approached them with a professional welcoming smile.

Maybe I should do it tomorrow. Nothing can go wrong from here… right?

…………………………………..……………………………………

Now your day is over. And your pained feet were dying to get home.

But as expected you were held back for a couple reasons. First was to finish answering some questions from the guests, and then your boss whose news reached to his ears about you and Bethany “fighting” in the breakroom. To which you denied sincerely without trying to smile. You two could never.

In consequence, those actions from both parties have left you to forget the sun set earlier in the month of July. Crap.

5:45 P.M, and you also missed your train. You sent Bethany a text asking for a ride, but you deleted the message as you recalled her mentioning in the morning about a dentist appointment after her break. Meaning you were going to need to walk home.

Fuck.

Adjusting your duffel bag on your shoulder, you climbed down the stairs while keeping a taser you borrowed from Bethany close by in your pocket. You quickly took a left from the station and started jogging slightly as you wanted to avoid any possible encounter with people. Not at this hour, no siree.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve done this. But not regularly either.

The approximation from your work to your apartment was about 30-45 minutes depending how fast you got there on foot, but you knew you weren’t gonna get there anytime soon. The uncomfortable feeling of being watched as you jogged without a stop for breath became awkward as hell.

You passed by the town shops that still had their lights on, staying close by them as you needed to see the cemented path ahead of you. For a summer night the air felt a mix of cool air and warm heat, making you start sweating anyway. Man you felt that adrenaline and motivation push your limits already.

The night sky wasn’t all dark as it was being illuminated by a full moon and the stars sparkled brightly. You huffed a breath as you turned a dark corner.

Only a couple more blocks, I can do this.

You began to feel a little dizzy from your excessive jogging and weariness of your feet starting to catch up with you that you immediately slowed down. A sharp pain from the side of your ribs irked you to recoil and grab on to the wall to lean on. Ragged breathing started to fill your ears as you took a breather and your eyes scanned your surroundings.

You had entered an alleyway with no exit. Dark and murky.

A sudden crash from a nearby garbage dump from the exit of the alleyway, caused you to stagger back with alert. Your hand fumbled in your pocket as you pulled out your taser and kept it to your side as you looked over your shoulder, just to make sure nothing from the darkness or exit came out.

You were so wrong.

From the pit of your chest you felt your heart drop to your stomach as you saw something moving towards the entrance of the alleyway. Dark shadows plastered on the wall from the light reflected off the moon and a growling noise seemed to rumble out. It resembled that of the creature and you almost had a feeling what it was. It started to become closer and closer.

You bite your tongue trying not to make a noise, stepping back into the shadows but without realizing it; your heel accidentally stepped on a piece of glass breaking it loudly.

Shit—-

You let out a scream as the creature rages in the alley about to grab you with their sharp claws.

I’M DEAD, I’M SO DEAD—-!

Your panicked thoughts were cut off aggressively as you were pulled upwards by something that grabbed your back shirt. You felt it snap off of you as your body was being rag dolled around by something keeping you close.

And very tightly; your back was being dug with their immense grip on you. More growls and yells were heard by your ear and your eyes couldn’t focus on it. Everything was a blur of colors red, black—-

Red and black? Hold up—-

Instinctively you wrapped your arms around the neck of this something you realized… it was none other than the Scarlet Spider himself.

You stared in awe at his red lenses, seeing your own face back at them. And oh man… his breathing sounded hotter up close. Of all places you finally met the hero. Yet that didn’t stop you from feeling scared as the webbed hero was swinging swiftly in the air with the web in one hand from a great height. The feeling was just like when you were a kid, being pushed on the swing and feeling the air pressure wacking your face. So you gradually held on tightly.

Yeah—you wanted to throw up right then in there.

Below you a grassy patch of land was coming into view. A playground from the nearby school you knew close to your home. With a loud thump you both landed on the ground safely, the noises of growls faded away in the distance.

“Hey… you can let go now,” You heard a low rough voice speak from the mask. You didn’t realize you closed your eyes and you opened them, raising your head away from his shoulder. Dumbly, you shakily let go of the hero and a soft thud from the padding of your feet was audibly heard as it touched the grass.

As your arms slid from his shoulders, you only noticed that the hero was just leaning down for you when he suddenly straightened up from his inclined posture.

He was much…taller.

“Are you okay?” He asked with a gruff tone. A soft gruff tone if you heard carefully.

You shook your head just to quickly revert it to a nod as you silently answered his question. He answered it with a nod of his own as he craned his neck to look at you up and down for potential injuries.

“Good. Don’t be wandering out at night—it’s dangerous you hear? See what almost happened to you back there? Almost became a snack.”

If you had enough energy you would have laughed at the warning. You didn’t answer, just stared. An impatient snap to your face woke you from your trance.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“U-uh, y-yeah… t-thanks…” You stuttered softly.

A beat.

The hero stared at you in silence and for a moment it felt like he wanted to say something. From the looks of his hands on his sides flexing their fingers, he seemed to hesitate doing something. He didn’t do anything. Finally, he said in a rather plain tone,

“Go home now. Take a pill for the nerves and a day off. You’re shaken up, I can tell.”

“U-uh h-huh…” you managed, as the jelly legs found themselves on your legs when you turned around to walk. You were numbly questioning the creature that almost killed you and the urge to ask him came to you. You wanted to say something else to him as you turned around to face him once again—-but he was gone.

Damn. You wanted him to stay a little longer.

Home it is then. You pulled your duffel bag—-correction, nothing.

You scan all over your body for anything and you let out a frustrated groan as you realize your duffel bag was lost back at that alley. Worst of all, you didn’t even know which one.

Well… at least you had a spare key under your mat.

⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴⚫️🔴

11/27/23

Hello there!!

So yes I was working on this really really hard. And you have a friend yay! Maybe you’ll expect another chapter in two weeks (I know, I’m bummed out too.)

Alright so… here’s the thing.

I was drafting where this story will head and here’s what I have in mind: Kaine technically left Houston right? Because of… stuff. But what if… what if he came back?

I have hopes for that. So this fic is where that intends to go. Where Kaine technically comes back to Houston. He has his friends back (minus one if you have an idea who), and he’s basically trying to start all over again. That’s all I can say for now.

And yes of course he still has The Other (not all fanfiction is canon remember!)

This journey is likely gonna be long folks. With super long paragraphs. And a hella amount of plot.

So… enjoy every moment and thank you for your support. You guys keep me going 🤗

—LonelySucker7

Next: Chapter 3

Previously: Chapter 1

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