#or nothing changes with him being isolated at the top

[ckret2]

please more evil ford please i stare with my puppy eyes for this i am obbsessed

Yeah all right, I've been working on some art. (For context, we're talking about this Evil Ford.)

Evil Ford is Evil as in "cheerfully works with Bill even after learning his full plot" and "is totally ready to conquer and/or destroy the world." But other than the shocking lack of basic ethics and the supervillain objective he's mostly the same guy—which means he still cares about his family. He's hoping to get them to join in on the world conquest plan.

Forty-odd years ago he went off to college promising someday he'd be a big shot scientist who changes the world and he'd make his family a fortune. If taking over reality doesn't qualify he doesn't know what does. The family can join him and his buddy Bill and rule the universe together. Pines Pines Pines Pines!

Unfortunately for him, the rest of the family still has normal moral compasses. And also they've met Bill.

Bill can't currently possess Ford due to Reasons; but even though he can't get in the driver's seat he still has permission to ride shotgun at any time. Ford talks to him pretty regularly. He HAS been caught doing this. Stan thinks he's just gone a little nutty from thirty years of isolation.

Naturally, since he was always on Bill's side, Ford's perception of events during Weirdmageddon is a bit different:

I finally made an official Evil Ford New Costume Character Design, check out his exciting totally different brand new look:

I decided that, since Ford is still basically the same person aside from his terrible life goals, he'd probably have the same fashion sense. And so... nothing changes except two tiny details lmao.

But he DOES have tattoos:

I traced a canon character model and took off its top to get a base to slap tattoos on, and then went dang... they gave him a big head and arms. He looks goofy. Anyway,

His forearms have less incriminating tattoos—just a birch tree and a sunrise. (The sunrise looks like the Journal 3 "The Muse Has Spoken" page.) The red text is the "triangulum entangulum" ritual; if anyone asks he'll go "it's uhh an ancient Sumerian poem about how great science is." It's not until he's topless that it's like "oh so he's a CULTIST cultist." The one exception is an unconcealed Eye of Providence on his right palm—but it's in an ink that's only visible in certain lighting. It's there so at any time he can point his hand at something and go "Bill are you seeing this BS?"

Of course, he still has the "hey now, you're an all star" neck tattoo. I didn't have room to draw it.

As you can see, he's made being Bill's right hand man a core part of his personality. Rather than spending 30 years scrabbling around the multiverse desperately searching for a way to destroy Bill, he spent 30 years chilling in the Quadrangle of Qonfusion as Bill's specialest favoritest Henchmaniac, and only scrabbling around the multiverse occasionally for fun & profit.

Here's a photo Bill & Ford took at a Nightmare Realm house party like fifteen years ago, three minutes before Bill started an argument and set the house on fire.

Most people have their wild party years in college, Ford has his in his 40s.

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s SStan Series Rec List

here are my sebastian stan series fic recs! they are mostly bucky barnes series but mainly Au’s! i will be creating separate lists for cevans one shots and sstan one shots😚

Clockwork - @sgt-seabass

When life seems to be finally back on track, a visit by a mob boss to your dainty town changes everything. (Dark!Alpha Nick Fowler)

The Soldat And The Sparrow - @navybrat817

Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you'll be free. Both of you.

For The Love Of The Game - @pellucid-constellations

Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it. 

The Heart Is A Deep Ocean - @dreamlessinparis

Titanic was known as the ship of dreams. For you, it was the dream of getting home, or so you thought. From the moment you locked eyes with James Buchanan Barnes, all those dreams changed and your life was never the same.

Everything’s Better In WestView - @espinosaurusrexex

Bucky and Y/N sneak into Westview to have the perfect life. Away from late Steve and Tony, Vision and Natasha, they let themselves be consumed by suburban magic. To their surprise, however, some of these people aren’t so dead in the town. And there are some other weird things happening that make them question their sanity. But that’s okay, right? ‘Cause everything’s better in Westview.

The Bride Of Soldat - @vampy-doll

In the summer of 1986, a young woman goes missing whenever HYDRA kidnaps her to be their next experiment for the reward of their Soldat. Now, post blip, Bucky starts to remember defining details of his love, his match made in hell, and is determined to find her. But after years of isolation and torture after his escape, she isn’t who he remembers. Now they’re trying to piece together who she was pre-HYDRA to teach her how to live, without his undying love and obsession of her getting in the way. But when one head is cut off, two more shall grow in its place, leaving them to discover those behind her abduction.

Awake My Soul - @foreverindreamlandd

It's been five years since zombies first started walking the Earth, destroying anything and everything in their wake. Now, in this apocalyptic world, fighting for survival comes as naturally as breathing. The one thing you've learned ever since they arrived, though, is that the living can be so much more dangerous than the undead. When you stumble across two young, scared boys lost in the woods and being chased by walkers, you go against your better judgment and help them to safety. Little did you know that helping them would lead you to Bucky - an angry, grumpy, distrusting member of the camp Shield. Bucky has zero interest in having you enter his life. He's been hurt before and lost too many people to risk experiencing that kind of pain again, and he knows that there are secrets you aren't telling the group. Yet, when push comes to shove, and you're put at risk, he'll stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Guiding Light - @wkemeup

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.

The Witness - @wkemeup

Owner of a bar full of criminals, maybe you shouldn’t be surprised when you’re the sole witness to a hydra hit. In comes Detective Barnes, the quick-witted, flirtatious cop who somehow became a regular at your misfit bar. When he takes it upon himself to ensure your safety off the books, you learn to rely on someone else for a change and find you don’t mind it at all. Not when it’s him.

Under Oath - @ugh-supersoldiers

The people called for justice, the state answered. The trial of State v. Barnes is set to begin, and the odds are most certainly not in favor of the not so beloved ex Winter Soldier. That’s where you come in, the quick, smart, and all too brave lawyer set on defending and saving one Bucky Barnes from legal prosecution. The only problem? He’s not so sure he’s worth saving at all.

Just One Kiss - @sarahwroteathing

Bucky Barnes has been chasing after you since he was ten years old, but you’re determined not to give in. How long can you hold out when all he’s asking for is just one kiss?

He’s Hazardous To My Health - @writing-for-marvel

Bucky Barnes is a beefy paramedic with a traumatic past, who has left a trail of broken hearts behind him. You are a resident doctor new to town, who barely has time to date between long shifts. When your paths cross in your ER during a disaster, is it the start of something magical, or are you destined to be just another of Bucky’s former flames?

Just Try - @waiting4inspiration

Perfectly happy with your life at the Avengers’ compound, an alpha walks into your life, flipping it completely over and revealing secrets you hoped you had buried a long time ago.

Дорогая - @waiting4inspiration

Bucky's Winter Soldier programming has been triggered. Turns out the Winter Soldier has a thing for you.

Red Ties - @sebstan2020

Mary, a sweet Christian girl living in the city of Brooklyn as a nurse had a simple life. She loved her work, her friends and attending church every Sunday and helping Reverend Owens. Her life was nothing out of the ordinary. However, it all changed one day when she bumps into the intriguing and intimidating James Barnes, Brooklyn’s notorious mafia boss and is introduced to a world of guns, lust and dominance.

Delicate Edges - @wkemeup

Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You're trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe.

Pride And Privacy - @adrinktostopyourthirst

Bucky works on himself as he gets used to a roommate. Turns out, she has a much better room than him and he crossed the line.

Feelings Are Fatal - @sunmoonandeddie

After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.

Appointments - @noctumbra

bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him. 

Lazarus - @sagechanoafterdark

Things are complicated between you and James Barnes. For you, life doesn’t mean much when you never stay dead for very long. But it might just be an ex-soviet assassin that convinces you to start living again.

Its A Deal - @justreadingfics

You’re out of a relationship of 10 years and you’re just in desperate need to get laid, no strings attached, no romance, no complications. You dear friend Natasha feels like she’s going to regret this later, but she might have the perfect guy to fulfill your needs.  

The Two Of Us - @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky go to investigate the phenomenon happening in Westview, New Jersey. While attempting to understand the issue, you yourselves are sucked into Wanda's world of pretend. Now, you believe yourselves to be the happily married Mr. and Mrs. Barnes; in real life, you are most definitely not a happy pair. It is up to you and Bucky to piece together what's happening while dealing with one another inside the hex.

Snow - @delaber

Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.

All Good Things - @sagechanoafterdark

After only three days of dealing with the annoying specter haunting you, you break the rules and accidently give a ghost a body. So what do you do when you find out the man you’re now sharing your your apartment with isn’t really a ghost and that haunted touch is a little warmer than you realized?

Welcome Home… Soldat? - @winterarmyy

Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

Heavy Metal Lover - @mypoisonedvine

every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional. (Sub!Bucky Barnes + Dominatrix!Reader)

Parent-Teacher Conference - @coffeecatsandcandles

James Barnes, a widowed single dad, had forgotten what love felt like and let it crush him, taking his daughter, Rebecca, with him. He was cold, rude, and arrogant, being one of the few teachers at Westview High School the students seemed to absolutely despise. But when you show up, a hopeful math teacher who’d previously taught Rebecca’s kindergarten class, and are adored by your students and colleagues- James’s attitude starts to change.

Duck & Cover - @whirlybirbs

you’re the howling commandos’ new medic (Sniper!Bucky Barnes)

Winter’s Mate - @maggyme13

The Winter Soldier threatens to get out of control with his instincts taking over more and more. After years of supressed ruts his body built up a resistance and Hydra need to find another solution. Deciding it would be the easiest to just give in. Hydra kidnapped the reader to turn her into a Omega in Heat using injections whenever needed.

Key’s In Your Ignition - @georgiapeach30513

Caught up in a sexual relationship with your father’s Vice President, and trying to not get caught.  Blind to everything else that’s going on in the club, and even your old crush, Bucky Barnes.  Not even noticing your brother and best friend flirting, until your father suddenly passes, and things in the club drastically change. (Ari Levinson + Bucky Barnes + Harvard Hottie- Hayden)

[aerascreamer]

I’ve been seeing a bunch of posts about the Batkids calling Dick out for being a cop and although I find them funny, the actual discussion would be going like this (also pardon me for any inconsistencies):

Jason: no way you actually became a cop Dickward-

Dick: I did. I saw how evil spread so deeply in Blüdhaven. I saw how the police contributed to the darkness of the city and the corruption running rampant. And I believed I could change this. I believed I could fight corruption from the inside and find good cops willing to fight for justice. For the longest time I supported and was supported by Gordon, Montoya and many more dedicated police officers who believed in the same cause as me. But I underestimated the corruption. I underestimated the depth the root of evil has reached. The officers on the top cared only about status and power, they only stick up for each other and if you didn’t comply and give up your morals, you’re harassed, isolated, driven out of the precinct. Fuck did my mental health took a toll. I constantly had to navigate disgust at the other’s behaviour, the stress of trying to fight back, and the hopelessness of the situation. And I had to keep up being Nightwing on top of it. So I needed to leave. I had to give up and lose this battle so I could continue the war. Had I stubborned my way into this wall, I don’t know if I’d still be here today…

Jason:

Jason: … I’m really wondering how Gordon is able to handle that kind of pressure if you couldn’t.

Dick: In my opinion, he cleaned up the GCPD years ago from a ton of bad weeds so its current state is much more manageable than Blud’s police. And he had the help of Batman, me, yours and all the others.

Jason: That make sense… also you need a god damn therapist.

Dick: No.

—

On a more serious note, typing this post made me realised how many other posts made Dick into a goofy character and even a joke.

Although I’m a sucker for fire fighter or gym teacher Dick, I recognise the potential Dick as a police officer has for storytelling, for exploring Dick’s resilience and morality as well as the harmful establishment that is the police system. I have yet to see someone explore this path with Dick either succeeding and becoming a figure similar to Gordon, or failing and having to fall back in vigilantism to make a change. Yet this possibility is rehashed as a joke, much like Dick himself.

In many more lighthearted post, he is treated as this bubbly over the top character who is poked fun at (being a cop, the Discowing, the mullet, obsession with cereal, butt jokes etc.), much like Tim is reduced to sad wet cat coffee addict. To me, Dick is a steady figure careful of each of his moves. He is a man who’s life is dedicated to hope, justice and positive change. He is a competent leader who wears a smile to reassure everyone and give them strength when heading for battle. He is a fierce protector whose anger you don’t want to be on the receiving end.

It’s fine to make him chirpier and more extravagant but to the point of becoming an almost comic relief? The JLA did not choose him and his team to fill in for them for nothing.

[dilfartist]

Missed - short (pt.2)

Pairing; Yandere Las Plagas Leon Kennedy x reader

Synopsis; it’s the week after Leon’s attack and the scientists examining and aiding Leon, need your assistance.

Reader description; Female/GN

Word count; 1k

TW; Dead dove do not eat, non-con, there isn’t really a smut scene, depends on how you interpret it, nonconsensual touching, messed up shit, ooc Leon. NSFW. Also tagged everyone who wanted to be tagged but its acting weird so few may not be notified.

!Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!

Nothing seems real to you anymore.

Your boyfriend working for the government was more than enough news to handle, but Leon obtaining some parasite, becoming one himself understandably tended to hurt your head.

After last week's events, you come by daily. While they did request this of you, you would have done it anyways.

Every day you wake then drive straight to the facility holding him; never missing a day. And with each passing day, he grows worse. His body changed, sprouting more veins than the last time you saw him. He looks lifeless. His baby blue eyes are now a piercing ruby color, that stare into your soul.

Leon as a person has altered. He’s more touchy, touching you anytime he can. Leon doesn’t care for your opinion, or consent on the matter. Not anymore. Aggression is a main part of his personality now. While Leon was rarely aggressive with you, it still terrified you to see him throw a tantrum and nearly rip out a security guard’s throat because you wanted to leave early.

His presence alone has grown suffocating. And You’re starting to get uncomfortable just being around him.

And the experimenters monitoring Leon aren't helping. They only ever approve of you around to gather intel. Sometimes they’ll guilt you into staying in his enclosure, observing his actions on the other side of a double mirror. Other times they’d full-on pay you to spend five or more hours with Leon. Of course, you’d have no issues if Leon acted like his old self. But that was the issue. He wasn't himself anymore.

It’s currently two o’clock and you’re attending Leon’s daily visits.

“We have one more experiment we’d like to run on Leon, but we need your help to explore what we’d like to explore.”

You nod, observing Leon from the other side of the double mirror. Leon sits crisscrossed next to a large television watching MTV mindlessly, gnawing on a slice of pizza. Leon sports grey sweatpants and a slight sauce messy white tee.

You turn your head finally providing your attention to the scientist beside you, “What is it?” you questioned.

She fixed her glasses to look down at her clipboard, “Well, Leon has been very emotional lately. We’d appreciate it if you’d go inside and just talk with him.”

You lift an eyebrow looking at her septically, “Is that all?”

She nods. “Yes, that is all. You know he only communicates with you.”

“Alright then.”

You enter Leon’s isolation when the door slides open. Leon’s room contained paper-white walls, an extensive mirror, both a couch and bed on opposite sides of each other, a television, and a bathroom area. It felt like a zoo enclosure.

Leon took a minute to glance your way. He was too captivated by the flashing images on the television. Wanting to get the interaction over with, you called out for him. “Leon.”

Leon’s eyes darted in your direction. “(Name)!” he jumped up, jogging over to you. He hugged you tightly, running kisses up and down your neck. You're frozen in an awkward position, “Hey, missed you too, Lee.”

Leon ceases his kissing, pulling away from your neck to look you in the eyes. “Been wondering when’s the next time you’d visit.”

You chuckle, “I visit every day, Leon.”

“It feels like an eternity when you're not around.”

Leon and you lay on the couch, Leon resting his head on top of your chest. You held him close, staring at the ceiling. For abeat there was a pregnant silence, the both of you focusing on each other’s company. Then Leon spoke. Leon asked about your life: how was work? Was anything new happing? Any recent drama. He yearned for a bit of normalcy. Wanted to forget about Spain. Just wanted his main reflections on you.

Since Leon’s trip nothing was the same, not for him. Not for you. While, yes, his normal life ended after the raccoon city incident, he managed to somehow have a- what would you call it? Semi-normal life. Living with you at least.

But now it was gone. The las plazas had terminated any chance of normality for Leon. And if by chance the government’s scientists somehow cured Leon of his parasite, he’d still be left with the side effects of retaining the Las plagas for as long as he did.

Leon’s body had changed in such drastic ways. And his main concern was the upsurge in his libido.

Hours and hours he’d fist his cock, mulling on the times you’ve sucked his cock. No matter how hard, how fast, or even the time spent he couldn't stop. It hurt too much if he did. The other day the pain didn't go away until he fainted from exhaustion. He needed you. He needed to stuff you so bad it physically pained him.

His mind was barraged with thoughts of breeding your sweet pussy. Leon wasn’t the idea of having kids with you, honestly, it thought about a lot. However, this was different. It was an obsession now. Thoughts on breeding you made him cum so quickly, it became his number one fantasy.

Laying here listening to your rambling on the next-door neighbor's fight last night, his nose picks up an ambrosial smell originating from you. You smell sweet. Oh so, so, so sweet.

Leon’s ears ring, deafening him. His eyes focus on your clothed thighs. How he missed the plush skin he used to lay on after a hard week of work. More than that, he missed planting kisses on them; earing drawled out moans of his name.

Almost like an instinct, Leon’s rough, calloused, hands griped your hips. You halt and looked down at him with curiousness. Uncertain of his next actions, you press your hands against him. Worriedly you utter his name, “Leon?”

Leon refuses to acknowledge the call of his name. His main priority being his cock beginning to stiffen in his sweats.

You swallow nervously, endeavoring to pry his hands off. “Leon, please take your hands off me.” you plead in a stern manner, to come off more as a command.

Leon shakes his head. “No,” he responded, voice trembling. “You have no idea how much I need you, (Name). It's torture not having you stroke me.” he nearly moans at the last part. He climbs up the couch to be face to face.

Leon’s eyes held an immense dose of desire as he looks at you through his eyelashes. “Please touch me, baby,” he whines. “Want ‘ya so bad!” he grips your hand, placing it near your mouth to plant a kiss.

You glance at the mirror, silently pleading for assistance. Comprehending Leon’s increase in strength, kicking him off wouldn't be an option since his grip on you tautened. “Leon, stop!”

Quickly you thought of a method of escape. You acted, moving to the side for your body to decline to the ground. Both you and Leon fell to the ground, dragging cushions with you. Immediately you are on your feet, dashing to the door. You slam your fist against the metal, bruising them in the process. You could care less. Your shouting so loud your throat starts to sting. Yet there’s no reply.

You know there are people out there! You saw at least five before entering.

Then a thought comes to mind. Did they plan this?

Leon yanks you out of your shock, slamming his body against yours. Your nose whacks against the metal, prompting a whine of pain. Akin to a vampire, Leon laches on your neck, trailing kisses up and down. He sucks, bites, and drags his tongue over the marks as his hand travels down the slit in your pants.

“Sorry, baby, can’t deny myself any longer!” he apologizes, surprisingly genuinely. You accept your fate, sobbing silently to yourself.

On the opposite side of the mirror, a group of scientists observe the interaction. They all have their clipboards out, noting down every action, movent, and emotion. A Handful of them watches in revulsion while the scene unfolds in front of them. Others treat it as any other experiment, having no sympathy for you. After all, they have no idea if you’re the worst person in existence or not.

There's one thing for certain. They’d be investigating the pregnancy of a human mother and a parasite having father.

Tagged

@fbiopenups , @athanasia-day , @leonskndy , @ineedrealfriends , @destinys-dreamer, @carlosluv3r, @connorsoddsock, @sl33paholics , @explosiongamora , @idiotuvu-blog , @tarcroach, @mikeywaysghost, @jinna-aka-ninja , @lovelysserafim, @jujupia , @lomaeuwu, @briefwinnerpersonaturtle , @sammy213ui , @stella-fleurets, @elliellielliesgirl

[autistichalsin]

I know I express dissatisfaction a lot about how hard it is to get Halsin upset at the player- how no amount of mistreatment from a romanced player will make him break up with them, how he NEVER asserts a boundary, how he tolerates even the most cruel comments. The rare times he expresses hurt, it still changes nothing about his interactions with the player and rarely costs more than one approval.

The reason I express this most of all with the new datamined dialogue is for two reasons: one, that one is so beyond the pale that it needs to be treated as evil, and should include Halsin saying so. But also, if Halsin won't even call it quits with a romanced player after THIS, it raises some really worrying implications.

Halsin should be allowed to have ONE situation where he'll go "no more" to the player's cruelty because... honestly? The pattern the writers established here actually makes me worried for Halsin.

Halsin rarely shows offense or anger at lines no matter how mean they are (even the player shooting down his romantic overture by comparing him to a deep rothe gets a hurt response but no loss of approval or scolding or anything). He stays with the player romantically even after they threaten to sell him back into sexual slavery in the new dialogue- he doesn't even lose a single approval point! And while he gets annoyed if the player toys with his heart by nearly breaking up with him multiple times and then changing their mind, even after the fourth time the player does this, when he says "sometimes it is difficult to love you," the implication there is clear- he still DOES love you. Even when he is deeply hurt by what you're doing, so much so that he straight up asks you, "does it please you to see me crestfallen?" and loses approval, he STILL doesn't break up with you or assert himself- he doesn't say next time is the last time, he doesn't call the player an asshole, nothing. He just takes it even when he gets hurt and upset again and again. In short: Halsin puts up with a LOT of manipulative, borderline abusive behavior from the player without more than an occasional ding in approval.

Then you add in Halsin's backstory of sexual slavery, him losing all of his family, being so socially isolated from his leadership role that he began to MISS being a sex slave, his sadness but quiet acceptance at the fact that everyone thinks his feelings can't be hurt due to his size, his survivor guilt over the shadow curse, and the fact that the player, even if they choose to mistreat him, is still the one who broke the curse with him, leaving him feeling permanently feeling indebted to them.

In other words: what the game is showing us ISN'T a wise and stoic, sage old elf who is just that unshakeable after all he's seen. They are showing us a man with so much unprocessed trauma and such a complete lack of personal boundaries that he is showing several warning signs he could easily end up the victim of domestic violence by a partner- whether that's evil!Tav or some other potential partner he might find after canon- without ever realizing it.

The other romanceable characters will dump you if you mistreat them or violate the terms of the relationship (I.E. sleeping with someone else when they made it clear they weren't poly). They all, even Astarion, have more willingness to stand up for themselves than Halsin does.

Halsin isn't a pushover, or at least, I don't think we're supposed to read him as one. He will fight whatever enemies he needs to. But when it comes to those close to him- and note that he calls the player his friend in ALL circumstances- he just refuses. The most is a ding of approval at times or a very quiet, quick comment that basically amounts to "that wasn't cool :( " before he moves on.

I know it wasn't what the writers intended, but it's what comes across in the text all the same.

(This is also why, on top of headcanoning Halsin as autistic, I am also firmly convinced he was bullied as a child- he just acts far too much like a grown-up victim of bullying)

[changbunnies]

If You Call Me (18+)

♡ Pairing: Bad Boy!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: heavy angst, fluff, very slice of life at times, strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, college au, slow burn, eventual smut, kind of love at first sight?, basically my take on the ever classic misunderstood bad boy x good girl trope

♡ Word Count: 43.8k

♡ Summary: After spending much of her high school life mercilessly bullied, Y/N hoped that going to college would finally allow her to move on from her past and put the pain behind her. Her hopes are crushed when it becomes apparant that the biggest perpetrator doesn't intend on letting the past stay the past– that is, until she gets unexpectedly rescued by the one person her past bullies seem to fear messing with, and he promises to protect her whenever she calls him.

♡ Warnings: flashbacks to bullying, physical assault, implied sexual assault (nothing is explicitly written, only described vaguely), past / referenced parental death (not described), chan has more than a bit of a savior complex tbh lol, self-worth issues and self-destructive behavior, an abundance of strong language, discussions around depression / being depressed, brief descriptions of blood and injury, theft.

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (baby, angel), implied loss of virginity (reader), as usual for my works there is so much kissing, nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), handjob, multiple orgasms, protected piv (shocking)

♡ Notes: please keep in mind that heavy topics and traumatizing events of various type are a main theme of this fic, so please read with discretion! heed the warnings and don't force yourself to read something you can't handle and won't enjoy! other than that, you can also read the story on my a03 where it is divided into chapters here updated 08/30/24: formatting fixes, slight changes to scenes and dialogue for improved cohesion

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Isolation, exile, a profound sense of loneliness. Those are the feelings you are used to, the feelings that have permeated your being and seeped into the very foundations of who you are as a person. And you weren't always this way– in fact, you can pinpoint the exact moment in time where a sad, loathful existence became all you knew.

It began a little over 3 years ago, when you started your first day of high school. That first spring semester came upon you quickly, and while you were anxious to begin, there was an almost equal level of excitement. You unfortunately were arriving alone, with your friends from middle school having spread out to various different schools that suited either their families or their own ambitions for their future.

While you would have liked to go to the same prestigious schools as some of your friends, your father simply didn’t have the money to pay for that sort of thing. On top of that, admissions were fiercely competitive, and being intelligent didn’t matter if you weren’t in the top 1% lucky enough to earn yourself a scholarship. You needed to be perfect in every single way to be considered for the honor, and that’s something you simply weren’t, and would never be.

Maybe that was bleak, but you preferred to keep your hopes and expectations grounded in realism. You wouldn’t say that you lacked confidence necessarily– just that you know what is a realistic outcome and what isn’t.

And realistically, what were the chances of a miracle happening? Slim to none. So you tempered your expectations, you kept your hope on a leash, and you continued to have mundane hopes and dreams.

So it wasn’t arriving at your new, average school alone that made you the way you are now; you’d made your peace with that long before it happened. Sure, you would miss the friends you made in your younger years, but high school is supposed to be the place with the most opportunity.

As long as you gave it your best effort, you’d make new friends and new memories. You’d discover what your goals for the future are, you’d work towards them with earnesty and diligence, you’d make your father proud.

At least, that was your mindset going into it; and maybe those thoughts were a bit more optimistic than your usual, but they weren’t unrealistic by any means. All those hopes were tangible and achievable, nothing about them should have been out of reach or unobtainable.

And it wasn’t like you were losing contact with your friends forever– cellphones existed, and it would only be a matter of time before a free weekend arrived for you to meet up with them again. So all in all, you’d felt good. Sure, your circumstances weren’t the most ideal, but you were more than capable of making the best of them.

That’s what you thought at the time, anyways. Despite the perceived realism of your wishes, it quickly became clear to you that life had other intentions for you in the name of Park Jaehyung. A boy in the same class as you, who took a keen interest in you for reasons beyond your understanding.

It started with you noticing that he was often looking at you. You’d look up from your textbook or notes, eyes aimed at the board or your teacher for further instruction, and you’d notice his gaze in your peripheral vision. It didn’t bother you necessarily; you were friendless after all, and you thought maybe he was just trying to figure out if he should approach you.

You knew first hand how shyness or doubts could make a decision you really wanted to make more difficult than it needed to be, and the simple act of approaching a person for friendship could become the most nerve racking experience of your life.

You even considered approaching him first to make it easier on him. There were plenty of times you were able to be the brave friend simply because you wanted to help, moments where all anxieties were trumped by the simple desire to help a friend.

However, he ended up approaching you first in the end, on an otherwise uneventful Friday. Most of your classmates left quickly, eager to get a start on their weekends or meetup with fellow club members for practice for their upcoming events.

You were nervous as he approached but not necessarily in a negative way; at the time, you had no reason to believe he had any bad intentions with you. In fact, you were excited at the prospect of finally making a friend in your new environment after weeks of being awkward around everyone.

You were so ignorantly optimistic.

When you finished tucking your things away and lifted your head to look at Jaehyung, you met him with a smile. The conversation was pleasant at first, albeit a bit mundane. Simple small talk such as “how did you do on the test,” “how do you like the school,” and things of that nature.

You don’t remember how long you two talked like that, but what you do remember is the shift in atmosphere when his friends came into the room looking for him.

“What are you still doing in here, Jae? We’ve– Oh?” you remember one of his friends saying as he stepped into the room, pausing his sentence when he noticed the two of you stood at your desk talking.

The shift in Jaehyung’s expression was shockingly instant, the positivity of the boy in front of you quickly warping into an animosity that you could hardly comprehend. The friend, who you recognized as a boy who sat in the back of the classroom, let out a laugh as he stood in the doorway.

“I knew it! You do like her,” the boy chuckled with a smug expression. Jaehyung scowled as he turned away to face his friend's direction. “I told you, I don’t. I was just telling her to stay away from me,” he spits at his friend, “She’s obsessed with me.”

You were stunned, blood running cold as you looked at him in bewilderment. You just spent the last several minutes talking pleasantly and laughing, and now he’s lying about it right in front of you? So blatantly? Why?

Before you could even open your mouth to defend yourself, his friend laughed loudly. “I told you, you need to stop playing with the easy ones. They get way too attached, man.” He’d said as Jaehyung stepped away from you quickly, making his way to the door with haste.

You simply watched, the words playing in a loop in your brain. Jaehyung took one last glance at you before the pair of them exited the room, leaving you by yourself with your thoughts running a mile a minute. Easy? Easy how? Because you were alone all the time? Because you’re shy?

You didn’t really understand why his friend said that, or why Jae’s attitude changed so quickly. Naively, you started to think that maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, and you could clear it up on Monday when you saw him again. It was unlikely, but the shift in tone was so sudden that you really had nothing else to grasp onto to make sense of it.

But Monday came, and it was immediately clear to you that the pleasant Jaehyung you’d known for a short time was entirely fake. He’d approach you with venom, antagonize you any chance he got, his friends always cackling in the background. He’d call you names and push you around, a sick enjoyment clear on his face every time.

You’d wondered if this was his intention all along; to make you like him, to spend time with you because you were vulnerable before he’d turn it all around on you and embarrass you. His friend walking in on you in the classroom probably just sped things up a bit, and made him lose the need to build trust with you first.

Some days you’d be lucky, able to avoid them by bolting out of the room the minute the bell rang. Of course there were still times they caught up to you or got you into a corner, but for the most part, the strategy had worked.

Eventually though, that method became nearly impossible as they got used to the trick and found ways to get you in a corner consistently. You only ever managed to catch a break on days that they needed to stay behind for detention or to be disciplined by the staff.

You hoped, you prayed, harder than you ever had for anything, that one day they would grow tired of tormenting you and just leave you alone. That staff would actually help you instead of turning a blind eye, only intervening when the boys’ actions inconvenienced their ability to work. You prayed they’d get suspended, expelled even– an unrealistic hope you knew would never come true, as little of a priority to the school’s staff as you were.

But hope was all you had then. In those incredibly dark days, where your life was the hardest it had ever been, you’d started to see the appeal of having outlandish dreams. It was comforting to imagine a world where everything about your life was perfect, where you'd easily obtained your goals and led the life you had always dreamed of, free of hurt and sadness.

There was no comfort in being a realist, no solace in the tangible. And you were tired. Not the physical kind of tired that came with a hard day's work, but mentally.

You were exhausted from the constant abuse, the unending loneliness, the hopelessness that was laid out so plainly in front of you. And so you would hope; hope for a better day, an easier existence, a friend.

You hoped that you’d be a braver person than you were the day before, hoped that one day the school would finally take action, hoped that one day Jae would get bored of you and finally leave you alone. You knew painfully well how improbable it was, but it was all you had.

All of it was out of your control, no matter what you did or how hard you prayed; it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t change, but even still you couldn’t let go of that hope. It was around that time however, that you realized there was something you could control– your academic scores. If you just devoted yourself to studying, to doing well on tests and keeping up your GPA, you could get yourself into a good school and put all this behind you.

You didn’t get into as good of a school as you would have liked, the strain that Jaehyung’s bullying put on your brain made studying a herculean effort, but you managed to do well enough to get accepted into a decent college just outside the city. It was enough- as long as you stuck to campus, you’d likely never see Jae again. He’d stay in the city, doing god knows what, and you’d get the fresh start you desperately needed, away from the person that made you miserable.

It's been 6 months since you moved into the campus dorms and began attending classes. Your roommates already knew each other, having been childhood friends who promised to go to the same school, but they never made you feel left out or like an outsider in your shared dorm room. They were kind, funny, and outgoing, and it would be no exaggeration to say they adopted you, bringing you out of your shell bit by bit and helping you return to the person you used to be.

There’s still pain, sadness, and loneliness, of course. Those feelings don’t just go away, but for the first time in years you began to feel.. Happy. Like things were finally going your way.

You could breathe without needing to constantly look over your shoulder, or be perpetually afraid of when a moment of happiness would inevitably crumble. You could finally live. The universe seemed to want to have a laugh at your expense, however– because what would be more ironic and tragic than bringing you back to the person you hate most.

You’d never been to a party– not entirely by choice, but because the opportunity had never come your way, solitary and friendless as you were. And now that you were in college, where the surroundings are rife with parties and carefree nights, it just felt.. Unnatural for you to be involved.

Like you were trying to blend where you didn’t belong, and that everyone would see through you. They would recognize you for what you were all through high school; a girl desperate for friends that no one ultimately cared about.

But your roommates, the social butterflies that they were, insisted that you come with them after excitedly telling you of the invite they received. You protested at first, feeling like you'd be much too awkward and out of place in the situation to have any fun, but they were tireless in their efforts to convince you to go with them.

And really, you couldn't blame them for trying so hard– you'd told them about your desire to branch out, to make more friends and experience new things, and a party was arguably one of the best places to do that. So you conceded in the end, letting them help you plan your outfit and be your guides through what was supposed to be a fun, new experience. 

And it was fun– for a time. Your friends helped you come out of your shell the most you’d ever had, introducing you to other people they knew either from their classes or from the clubs they were part of. You felt included, like you were finally part of a group, like you no longer had to be the person who watched from afar while others mingled and laughed together. 

It’s almost funny how that feeling of belonging and joy you finally felt came crashing down on you in an instant. You didn’t see him at first, and if you had, you definitely wouldn’t have separated yourself from your friends. You were supposed to be gone just a moment, a quick run to the bathroom and refresh of your drink before you’d rejoin them.

But there Jae was, standing near the stairs that led up to the bathroom, chatting with the same group of friends he’d had in high school. Your mind reeled, blood chilling as your eyes settled on him for the first time since graduation. You stood frozen for a moment, body being bumped by those trying to dance or move past you as the music continued to blare.

You suddenly became conscious of every little thing– the volume of the music in your ears, the amount of people standing between you and him, how the hairs on your neck and arm began to stand on end. You could feel the way your palms clammed up as you closed your fingers into a fist, and the thumping of your heart became loud and erratic, to the point it began to drown out everything else.  

You tried to rationalize with yourself, to calm your screaming nerves and bring your racing heart under your control. He hadn’t noticed you, and if you were lucky, and quick, he wouldn’t at all. Besides, you weren’t the same person you were in high school. You had friends now, a new home and a new life. He couldn’t torment you anymore– you wouldn’t let him. 

You take a breath, steeling yourself to walk past the man who brought you so much misery, and hope for the best. Your legs felt like lead, each step taking excruciating effort to complete. You try to keep your head down, letting your hair fall over your face to hide your recognizable features as much as possible.

You look up as you reach the steps, realizing that you’re unconsciously holding your breath as you do. Your eyes meet– not Jae’s, but his friends. And you can tell by the way he laughs, one of disbelief as much as it is amusement, that he recognizes you easily. “What?” you hear Jae question as he turns his head to see what his friend is reacting to, his eyes landing squarely on you. 

Dread is the only word that can be used to describe what you feel when his eyes meet yours. Your reaction is immediate, panic settling in as you rush past them, and dart up the stairs. You just had to make it to the bathroom, and then everything would be fine. And you do, closing the door shut quickly behind you and locking it with a loud click.

You take a moment to breathe, to think with clarity now that you were within the safe space of a closed, locked room. You’re not proud of the visceral reaction seeing Jae gave you, the way you ran as soon as soon as his gaze locked on you.

You wonder how you looked to the others settled around the steps– hopefully, just like a drunk girl in desperate need for the bathroom, instead of a dreadfully panicked one. Regardless, your dash up the steps was certainly unceremonious and embarrassing, and you hate the thought that it gave Jae or any of his friends a laugh.

You let out a sigh, pulling out your phone to text your friends, hoping they’re not too drunk or that the music is too loud for them to hear their phones. You do your business, wash your hands, check your appearance in the mirror. You check your phone, and then check it again, and then once more, but no response from your friends ever comes through. 

You sigh, knowing you can’t camp out in the bathroom much longer than you have already. There are loads of people here, and someone’s going to need it sooner or later. And besides, he surely wouldn’t still target you now that you were all grown adults, right?

It’s likely he didn’t even follow after you, and is just laughing that even now you’re still afraid of him. You moved on, and surely he has to– you can’t let your fear of him control you the way it did when you were in school together. 

With another breath to calm your nerves, you unlock and open the door, and see that a small line did in fact start to build in front of the bathroom door while you were holed up inside of it. You offer an apology to the people waiting as you move past to allow the first person in, making your way quickly back towards the steps in the hopes that Jae is either no longer in that area, or has no interest in you anymore, and that you can return to where your friends are without issue. 

But of course, he’s there, standing at the top of the steps, very clearly waiting for you. Your heart sinks to your stomach, the smile that spreads on his face making you sick. “Long time no see, huh?” he says as he takes a step closer to you, his light, airy voice a stark contrast to the intentions you know he has. You don’t respond, which he takes as his sign to continue. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Don’t you want to catch up?” 

“I need to get back to my friends,” you say, finally finding your voice after the initial shock. It’s not as strong as you’d like, but considering you’ve never stood up for yourself before now, it’s enough to show how much you’ve changed since he last saw you.

“Oh, you have friends now? That’s interesting,” he responds easily, taking what little pride for yourself you fostered and crushing it beneath his heel. Before you realize it, your back is pressed against the nearest door, Jae closing the distance between you with proficient ease.

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes darting to the side where the line for the bathroom remains unchanged. If you made a scene, would they help you? You honestly weren’t sure; they were all strangers to you, with varying levels of intoxication affecting them, and from their perspective, you and Jae could easily appear to be a couple sharing an intimate moment before trying to sneak away to a room. The thought alone makes your stomach churn. 

“Oh don’t worry about them, they won’t interrupt,” Jae says, that same sickeningly smug smile on his face as he seemingly has the same thought you just had. You know what comes next- his hands on you, a contact you loathe above all else, that makes your skin scream and recoil.

Things were supposed to be different now. You weren’t supposed to ever see him again, but maybe you were a fool for believing that you created enough distance from him for that to be the case. But you didn’t come this far to be the same person you were then- you were supposed to be different, to be strong.

You want to be strong, to have the courage to stand up for yourself and tell him to go fuck himself. If you don’t act now, then what was it all for? You can’t let yourself go back to the meek person who just accepted it whenever she was hurt. You clench your fists, you gather your courage, and for the first time ever, you raise your voice to him. “Don’t fucking touch me.” 

He doesn’t take you seriously in the slightest, laughing as if your words mean nothing as he reaches his hand out to touch you. In a moment of unparalleled bravery on your part, you slap it away, conveying clearly that you won’t allow him to torment you anymore. There’s surprise in his eyes for a moment, though it fades as quickly as it appeared, replaced by seething anger.

He wraps your hair in his fist, holding your head back with so much force that a searing ache spreads over your scalp. “You wanna try that again? I don't think you're thinking clearly." Jaehyung's voice is dark and threatening as he holds your head in place.

So now he’s taking you seriously, huh? You glare at him, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as your fists tremble, 3 years worth of contempt rising forth all at once, practically begging to be set free, to be unleashed on the awful man before you who made your life a living hell. 

You were still scared of him, if you were being honest with yourself, but you had to be different. You had to. He was much stronger, his grip on you was painful, but if you gave up now, then what was it all for? Your perseverance had to mean something, it had to lead you to somewhere better, to help you become someone you were proud to be. You can’t let it be meaningless. 

You’re about to open your mouth to scream, determined to make a scene that can’t go ignored by anyone in the vicinity, when a voice you don’t recognize calls to Jaehyung, taking you both by surprise. “What the fuck are you doing?” the unfamiliar voice call from the direction of the stairs, and you’re able to turn your head just enough to see someone standing at the top of them, arms crossed with an incredulous look on his face.

“Shit,” you hear Jaehyung mutter under his breath when he turns his gaze away from you, looking at the man who is (thankfully) interrupting the moment. “What are you doing here?” Jae asks as he slowly loosens his grip on your hair, his teeth clenching as he begrudgingly releases you from his grasp.

“Don’t tell me you came to this party not knowing you’re in my fucking house. That’s my room you’re blocking, so move,” the man says, voice stern and unflinching. Jaehyung’s expression in response is strange– he’s very clearly annoyed, angry, but there’s something else there too that you’ve never seen on him.

He’s… intimidated? “Oh c'mon, man. You don’t mind letting an old friend borrow your room, right?” Jae’s voice turns jovial, a vain attempt at familiarity and friendliness. The stranger’s expression changes, a scoff leaving his lips as he looks at Jae in disbelief. 

The man looks at you next, observing your body language and quickly processing what it tells him. You’re very clearly distressed, body trembling, eyes angry and glossy with unshed tears; you want out of this, and now.

“Doesn’t seem to me that she’s into you,” the stranger says matter-of-factly, stating the truth of the matter as he sees it. “And you’re insane if you think I’m letting you use my room for this shit– or anyone’s for that matter.” 

“She’s just shy, isn’t that right? You’re not used to us being interrupted?” Jae says it with a sickly sweet smile before he turns his gaze back to you, leaning closer as his next words leave him in a whisper intended for only you to hear, a not so thinly veiled threat for you to play along with him, “I’m not done with you yet.” 

If it were the you of half a year ago, you probably would have buckled under the pressure, yielded to whatever it was he wanted from you. You would’ve been too afraid of the repercussions that would follow if you didn’t, afraid of what worse action he’d have in store for you if you didn’t listen to his commands. 

And that’s what Jae wants– he wants to put that fear back inside you, to remind you of all that he made you feel, all that he caused you to lose, to turn you back into the person he knew and expected you to be.

You refuse to give him the satisfaction. “Get the fuck away from me,” you say, doing your best to make your voice as steady as you can possibly make it. You can feel the rage radiating off him, and you have to admit, it’s extremely gratifying to watch him struggle, to see him flounder after being challenged.

He storms off, anger and bitterness seeping off him, as the man who saved you steps aside to let him pass– though Jae still manages to shoulder checks the stranger angrily on his way out. A sigh of relief leaves you once your tormentor is out of sight, thankful for the ordeal to finally be over.

“Are you alright?” the stranger who evidentially lives here asks as he takes a tentative step closer to you, clearly not wanting to make you feel boxed in and cornered the way Jaehyung had.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you,” you say as you separate yourself from what you remember is apparentally his bedroom door, fixing your clothes in the places that Jae caused it to crumple. 

When you look up, you see that he is looking you over for any noticeable injury– whoever he is, it’s apparent he knows who Jaehyung is and how he does things. It also makes you curious about how they know each other, and what it is about him that made Jae leave without putting up a real fight. 

He has dark curly hair that pairs well with his piercing gaze, but you didn't find him particularly frightening based on appearance alone. In fact, you actually thought he'd look sweet if he wasn't frowning so hard right now.

He did seem quite athletic though, and you could see how bulky his arms were underneath the sleeves of his black tee. Maybe it was the difference in strength that deterred him? Jae is stronger than you, sure, but he wasn’t as built as the stranger who saved you.

Or maybe Jae is simply all bark, and no bite? That’d be ironic– your biggest tormentor being someone who is inherently a coward. But isn’t that how it usually goes? The weak preying on the weaker for the sake of gratification and a sense of superiority they wouldn’t otherwise obtain.

And who better to play that role for him than you? You, who was lonely and eager to make a friend, who was too timid and kind for her own good, and without the inner strength to fight back. 

“You’re welcome to join me in my room, if you want. Uhm, not in like, a weird way or anything– just to make sure Jae will leave you alone if he's still around. We’ll leave the door open so you’re comfortable and– uh, yeah.” You can’t help but smile a little following his suggestion– it’s a little awkward, but well intentioned, and you appreciate the attempt he’s making to comfort you following a tense interaction. 

You follow him inside, and true to his word, he makes no move to close the door behind you, leaving it wide open and looking out into the adjacent hallway. Looking around, you notice that his room is more.. Minimalistic than you would’ve expected from a college aged guy. A decently sized bed, a bookshelf that contained more empty space than anything, a desk that held only a laptop and a rather old looking stuffed wolf toy that you assumed was from his childhood. 

There was no clutter, no mess, no decoration– nothing that tells you a guy in his early 20s occupies the space. Apart from the led lights circling the ceiling, the walls are bare, with no pictures or posters to give insight into his interests or personality. “You can sit wherever,” he says, intending to let you have first pick for comfort’s sake. 

You decide to sit at his desk, concluding that it's the better of your two options, and he flops on his bed, eyes on the ceiling as a slight sigh leaves his lips. “Regretting throwing a party?” you ask, noticing how exhausted he seems to be– dark circles under his eyes serving as a clear sign that something in his life is causing him fatigue and lack of sleep. 

“It’s not my party, it’s my brothers. The whole party thing isn’t really for me, but he wants the “whole college experience” or whatever, so, you know.. Yeah,” he closes his eyes for a moment as he speaks, seeming to think about what he wants to say before he continues to speak. “He won't have time for things like this once the fall semester starts, so why not let him have his fun until then? That’s what I think, anyways.” 

You nod, silently wondering if his brother is anyone you met downstairs, though you don’t recall meeting anyone that looks similar to him. “Do you both go to school here?” you ask, thinking it’d be nice if they do– you could do with some more friends in your life, especially ones that go to the same campus you do. 

“Oh, no, I–” he hesitates a moment, an almost indiscernible look on his face as he slightly tenses, just enough for you to gather that this topic is a bit tense for him. “I dropped out. Of high school, I mean. The whole school thing doesn’t suit me– got enough bills to pay and things to take care of without that added expense and worry, you know?”

You get it– you honestly do. Dropping out is a hard decision to make, one that society doesn’t understand comes with great personal grief and difficulty. Most people who drop out don’t do it because they want to, but because they have to, or feel there’s no other choice in the face of whatever it is they’re dealing with.

There was even a time you considered it; when your bullying was at its worst, and before you found solace in pouring all your energy into studying. “I completely understand; I almost dropped out too. And I wouldn’t even be going to school now if it wasn’t for my scholarship.”

“Really?” he sits up now, surprise written on his face as he looks at you. “Yeah, I– ..didn’t have the best high school experience,” you sigh, hesitating to meet his gaze right away. He’s a stranger to you, you don’t know what happened to him, and he doesn’t know what happened to you, but there’s a strange sort.. Connection you feel? 

Like kindred spirits– two souls who lived different lives, who are on a different path, but somehow are still the same. You look at him again, realizing you don’t feel the need to hesitate or hold back your words. There’s something about him that seems trustworthy, and the sincere empathy in his eyes makes you believe that he’s someone you can confide in without regrets. 

“I was depressed, alone. I had no friends, and I don’t mean it felt that way, I literally didn’t have anyone. And Jaehyung, he– well, you saw. It was like that every single day, unrelenting. Studying was the only thing I had to escape my thoughts and feelings, so I poured everything I had into my grades. I started to view college as an escape– like if I got accepted, all my problems would be solved. I could start over, be a different person,” you swallow, emotions threatening to choke you up as you talk about your experience, but you continue on despite it. 

“Unfortunately, schools are competitive, and recruiters could easily see that despite having good enough grades, I didn’t have the confidence or social standing to back myself up, so they chose other people. But the school here accepted me, and even though it’s still close to where I grew up I hoped it would be enough. I could meet new people, get away from everything that brought me down, and become the person I always wanted to be. And I have– you know, for the most part anyways.”

There’s a silence that lingers for a moment, one that makes you start to feel stupid for deciding to unload all that information on someone you just met, but when you meet his eyes again you no longer feel shame. As before, there is a sincere empathy, an understanding, a care, that you’d never experienced before now. 

You never talked about Jae to anyone new you met, and even your friends only know about him in the vaguest of terms because it was so hard to relive and talk about openly. But the person you met today– he saw it, in its rawest, unfiltered form, and he cared. Genuinely cared. And when you think back to all the times someone saw what was happening and ignored it, knew you were suffering and didn’t think twice about it, that care matters. 

He looks contemplative as well; like he’s thinking carefully on his words, and what impact they’ll have, as if formatting the perfect response to your admission is of crucial importance to him. And in a way, it is, because even though he’s just met you, he sees you for who you are– someone like him. Damaged. Lonely. Yearning for a connection that doesn’t yet exist, but could if you found the right person. 

He opens his mouth to speak, the words he wants to say on the tip of his tongue, but is quickly interrupted and drowned out by your phone suddenly ringing. You pull it out of your pocket quickly, and see your friend's name and photo brightly illuminated on the screen.

“Y/N? I’m so sorry, I just saw your text! Are you still upstairs? I’ll come get you–” your friend comes through loud and urgent, doing her best to be heard over the loud music that surrounds her downstairs. 

“I’m fine, I promise! Where are you right now? I’ll meet you,” you assure her as you stand up from your seat, preparing yourself to leave the room. The conversation ends quickly, with you confirming with each other that you’ll meet at the base of the stairs and then head home together. 

“I’ll get going now, my friends are waiting for me, but.. before I go I just wanna say thank you for tonight, uhm..” your sentence trails off as a realization hits you. Right. You still don’t know his name yet. Thankfully, he seems to know where you’re going, and offers his name to you before you have to ask. “Chan,” he says simply, “I’m Bang Chan.” 

You smile as you repeat his name, offering your own afterwards to which he acknowledges with a nod. You make it to the door before you stop, turning back to look at him one last time before you go. “I’ll see you around..?” you ask, hoping you don't come across as too desperate to meet him again. 

“Mm, yeah, sure,” Chan replies nonchalantly, though the corners of his mouth raise in the hint of a smile. And though it’s only a slight display, it makes you smile back at him. Because even though he comes across as aloof and reserved, you've gotten the impression that he's a nice person underneath his layers. 

You found yourself thinking a lot about him when you were in bed that night; wondering about who he is beyond what you initially see, about what makes him who he is and drives what he does. Someone who is clearly empathetic beneath their rough exterior, who has compassion even for those he doesn't know, someone you want to befriend. You hoped you'd meet and talk to him again soon. 

You sigh as you approach Sunshine Cafe, your go-to stop for coffee and a sweet breakfast before beginning your day in earnest. The fall semester has spared you no mercy since it began weeks ago, with your new professors hitting you with an increasingly grueling workload and frustratingly tight deadlines.

You’ve barely had time for anything, and your daily coffee is truly the only thing getting you through the immense amount of homework and academic papers that’ve been dropped into your lap. It also occurred to you that you greatly overestimated your ability to run into Chan again.

You thought it’d only be a matter of time, at first. Though he doesn’t attend the local college like you and his brother do, he still has a house near campus, and even if meeting at another party was unlikely, there were still plenty of places you could end up seeing one another. And yet, either due to the amount of work that needed done keeping you home, or Chan himself also having a busy schedule, that time never came. 

Should you have just asked for his number before you left? It’s something you’d think about since that night, wondering if that would’ve been too forward or made him uncomfortable, because who knows if he wanted to be your friend as much as you wanted to be his. There was a lot you liked about Chan following your first interaction with him, but was there anything he liked about you? 

It was hard to say; you certainly hoped so, but you weren’t exactly confident in your ability to make connections with people. Apart from that, a search of his name online didn’t lead to any social media platforms you could add or follow him on.

A bit strange for someone his age to be completely void of a social media presence you might think, but he didn’t really seem the type to spend his days scrolling instagram or writing personal posts on twitter in the first place. 

And honestly, wasn’t it silly to be so stuck on someone you’d met and talked to so briefly? You were broaching pathetic territory if you were being honest with yourself, but you truly couldn’t help it. There was something different about him, and not in that corny love at first sight way your friends might assume if you brought the issue up to them. You could see it in the way he interacted with you and listened to you. 

The more you thought about it though, the more embarrassed you felt about it; why did you unload your deepest feelings on a stranger? Because having a little bit of alchol in your system made you uninhibited enough to feel the need to bare your entire heart? Because he was nice to you?

That’s so pitiful, you’d laugh at yourself if it wasn’t so depressing. Even if you did run into him again, it’d probably be best to avoid his gaze, and save yourself from the realization that he actually thought you were a fucking weirdo, and only listened to you to be polite. 

God, you were spiraling– one minute thinking it’d be best if he never saw you again, and the next praying he’d show up in your life regardless, even if just for a moment. But really, you just wanted to know– know for sure if you just imagined the way he cared to make yourself better, or if what you felt then was real. And if it was real, why? 

No one ever protected you before, and it was hard for you to imagine a world where someone would do that for you purely out of the kindness of their heart. You know selfless, compassionate people exist, but not for you.

Even with the friends you had now, you’d hesitate to believe that they’d do anything for you beyond the surface level of friendship. And that was no fault of their own, of course; you knew it was a response to your own trauma that led you to think that way. But now that you were met with the evidence that someone could be kind to you purely for the sake of it, you struggled to grapple with it. 

You could argue that your friends are nice to you purely because you’re also assigned roommates, and you needed to have a good relationship for your home life to be copasetic. They introduced you to the people in their life because living in their space meant you’d be around them as well, and by extension they were only nice to you because they needed to be. But Chan– what reason did he have to do anything for you? To listen to you or offer kindness? 

He wasn’t the first person to show you kindness after you came here, but he was the first to do so with seemingly no explanation behind it. To be kind and help you just because it was what was right, and for no reason other than that– that’s what made him different, and made you want to see him again, to get to know him.

Another sigh leaves your lips now as you stand in line, waiting to order. You really need to stop dwelling on it and focus on more critical things at hand, i.e your paper that's due tonight and still needs to be proofread.

Yes, it’s best to do what you’re used to doing, and pour all your frustrations and worries into getting yourself the best grades you possibly can. You’ll head back to your dorm as soon as your coffee is in hand, and spend the rest of your morning (and a good portion of your afternoon) into ensuring that your paper is as perfect as it can be. 

Felix, the blonde, freckled barista who has come to memorize your order, smiles sweetly as soon as he sees you. “Here’s your usual,” he says as he hands it over to you the moment you reach the counter; benefits to being a regular, and a creature of habit, you suppose– he always has your order ready for you by the time you make it to the front of the line. “Thanks, I really need it today,” you reply as you put your card in the reader to pay. 

“Professor still kicking your ass?” he asks as he confirms the payment on his screen, letting you take your card out swiftly and fit it back into your wallet. “Pretty much,” you answer, though it’s not entirely true anymore; the amount of work you need to complete is definitely a major stressor, but it’s your brain’s fixation on Chan, and your subsequent worry about how you were perceived by him that plague yours thoughts and makes finishing your work much harder than it needs to be. Felix doesn’t need to hear about any of that, though. 

You thank him for serving you before you step away to allow the line to continue to flow, and he wishes you luck with the rest of your day before he greets his next customer. You scarf down your doughnut before you step outside to leave the building, the crisp fall air instantly helping to bring your mind back to a place of normalcy. A few small sips of your drink, a tossing of your trash in the public bin, and you’re ready to make your way back to your room to tackle the behemoth of a paper you wrote that needs reviewing. 

You make it only a few steps before you’re stopped by a voice you dread hearing saying your name from behind you, one that the universe seems to love to remind you that you can’t run away from. “I’ve been looking for you,” he smiles as he steps in front of you, cutting off your path and making you stop walking.

The blood in your veins feels ice cold, the alarms in your brain deafeningly loud. Fuck. How did Jae find you here? 

Stumbling upon each other at a random party, as unpleasant and unfortunate as it was, was at least feasible. College parties weren’t limited to the host’s affiliation; word of mouth took campus parties to new heights, their friends invite their friends who then invite theirs, turning what one might intend to be a simple get together between close friends and roommates into something much larger than the host ever intended. 

Yes, as much as you hated it when you ran into him, the party setting you were brought into made the most logistical sense. But here? At a small off-campus coffee shop at 9am? What the fuck was he doing here?

Surely if this was a place he frequented you wouldn’t have gone so many months without coming across one another. Which leaves you to think only one thing, that you desperately hope isn’t true- he sought you out on purpose.

“I don’t want to see you,” you say, voice as stern as you can possibly make it despite the way your nerves threaten to eat you alive. You’re doing your best not to panic, reasoning with yourself that things on your side in the situation; you’re in a public space, on a fairly active street with plenty of witnesses, and lots of options for safety. As long as you don’t freeze up or mentally shut down, you’ll be okay. 

You take a step in an attempt to walk past him, but of course, he doesn’t want to allow you to leave so easily. “C’mon, don’t be like that,” he says in a tone that’s supposed to portray himself as innocently pleading for your time, but his smirk deceives his intentions. You opt to ignore him, shifting to the side to once again make your way past him. 

He reaches out to grab your arm, instantly stopping you in your tracks. “Let go of me!” you protest, trying to pull yourself out of his grasp, but to no avail. Your eyes scan the area, seeking a way to get yourself out of this situation as quickly as possible. As if sensing this, Jae pulls you towards the nearby shop alley, dragging you into it with him. 

Your coffee falls to the ground in the struggle, splashing your legs and drenching the soles of your shoes. Your eyes water, race burning red as a wave of emotions washes over you– shame, anger, misery, all of which make him laugh.

“It’s a shame we were interrupted last time, isn’t it? And you don’t have your guard dog here to protect you, how sad,” he taunts, infinitely condescending in the way he speaks to you, “Go ahead and cry, he’s not gonna save you this time.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying your hardest to suppress the rising panic. You need to will yourself to move, to be loud, to make it impossible for him to take advantage of you any further. You take a breath and open your eyes, surprised to see someone standing directly behind Jae– Chan.

He’s yanked away from you in a sudden motion as a hand grabs his shoulder, stumbling backwards and landing awkwardly on his right foot, clutching you tighter in his hand to try and steady himself. “Wha– who the fuck?” 

“Fuck off. Don’t make me teach you a lesson again,” Chan’s voice is low as he grabs Jae by the wrist and twists it, causing him to grit his teeth and finally release you from his grasp. Jae scowls as Chan’s grip on his wrist loosens, curses and insults quickly being muttered under his breath as he shoots you both furious looks.

“You heard me. Go,” Chan says, eyebrow raised with a look that says ‘test me and you’ll regret it.’ Begrudgingly, he retreats while calling you both less than kind names and rubbing his wrist. Chan hears them of course, but making sure you’re okay is more of a priority than fixing Jae’s loose mouth.

“You alright..?” he asks, looking you over for injury as he did the first time he stopped Jae from harming you. You stayed silent however, your brain struggling to process the fact that Chan is here and helped you again– and he eventually frowns. Jae may be a fucking imbecile, but he was smart when he wanted to be; he didn’t hurt you enough to leave any marks– at least not anywhere Chan could see clearly. 

On top of that, you still hadn’t responded yet, and he wasn’t entirely sure when your altercation even began; it was pure coincidence that he turned the corner to reach Sunshine Cafe and saw you being pulled away to the adjacent alley.

But he heard what he said as he approached; “guard dog,” Jae called him. Yeah, that’s exactly what he’ll be if Jae refuses to leave you alone– your personal guard dog, ready to attack as needed.

He cautiously taps your shoulder, his eyebrows knitting together in a clear sign of concern, “Hey… you okay..?” You nod, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat. You were in shock more than anything, you think. Jae tormented you for years, and you’d grown used to it over the years. Hair pulling, tripping, slapping, dumping water on you.. Things that though you hated, you were used to and came to expect. 

But now? Now that you’d left that behind, began to live your life with a sense of fulfillment and joy, were away from all that once dragged you to the depths of despair.. You realized how much those things still hurt, how the time and distance didn’t cure or absolve you of your pain.

And you hated that he found you, hated that his presence still had an effect on you, hated how easy it was for him to reverse all of the positive progress you made. Most of all, you just hated Jae– truly, deeply hated him.

You could tell you were shaking, felt the tears in the corners of your eyes threatening to fall, embarrassed by the fact that Chan once again has to see you at your lowest when you’ve just barely formed a friendship. It’s humiliating in a way that’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t felt it themselves– the shame that comes with feeling inadequate, in looking weak in the face of someone you don’t want to see you that way.

Chan looks down, seeing what he assumes is the remnants of your fresh coffee spilled on the concrete, whipped cream and caramel splattered in all directions from the impact they made with the ground. He kneels down, grabbing the plastic cup and turning it to the front, confirming what he already suspected; your name, written in big, black letters with a sharpie, followed by a sticker with the specifics of your order.

He looks back at you as he stands back up, still holding your cup in his hands despite how sticky it’s become from splashed coffee. “Hey, look.. I’m sorry– Jae was pissed that I helped you last time, right? It's my fault, so why don’t I buy you a new coffee?”

“Huh?" you blink, surprised by his offer; once again, he's helping you when he has no reason to, and trying to process it makes your brain lag. "Oh– you don’t have to do that! It’s not your fault at all, he’s always treated me that way. He probably would’ve done this again even if you hadn’t helped the first time,” you respond after a moment, not yet meeting his gaze. 

Chan frowns at your answer; he knows Jae well enough to know that’s true, but it doesn’t piss him off any less. He’s always been like that– a coward in wolf’s clothing, always preying on whoever wants and thinking he can get away with it. “Unlock your phone and hand it to me,” he says, holding his hand out to you expectantly.

You furrow your brows in confusion, but do as he asks regardless, fishing through your pocket and quickly putting in your password before passing it to him. Chan locates your contacts page easily, adding his number to the relatively short list. “Call me next time,” he says as he hands it back to you.

You stare at your phone for a few moments, processing the information slowly before you look up at him. “You.. I can call you?” “Of course.” His response is nonchalant in tone, but you can tell he’s being genuine, just as before.

You don’t understand why he’s consistently so kind to you, someone who is effectively a stranger, who he has no reason to look out or care for. Stopping a bad situation he came across once made enough sense, especially since it was happening in his own house, but to devote himself to regularly helping you was completely different. Was he really that selfless? 

“What if you don’t answer..?” you finally ask, still struggling to make sense of his kindness towards you. “I’ll answer,” he replies easily, as if that’s the only option there is. “What if Jae takes my phone? Or I can’t reach it?” you continue, because surely he can’t be serious.

Why would he do that for you? Chan’s expression shifts to one you can’t read, full of thoughts and emotions you couldn’t possibly read before he speaks again, “Yell if you have to. If you call, I’ll hear it. I’ll come running as soon as I can.”

You tear up for the second time today, though this time for a reason completely different from before; you’re grateful to have someone who wants to be there for you unconditionally. After suffering for so long, you began to believe that you were beyond selfless kindness, that it was something you would never experience or have offered to you. And in your current state, it seems that even the smallest ounce of it is enough to make you emotional. 

“H-Hey, don’t cry!” Chan’s voice is suddenly filled with worry, a stark contrast to the aloof tone he seems to typically have. And really, he isn’t sure what to do– he’s never had to comfort a girl who was crying before.

You wipe your face, trying your best to calm down quickly and offer him an appreciative smile. “Sorry, this is actually super embarrassing..” you awkwardly laugh as you rub your eyes dry, hoping that he won’t change his mind and decide you’re not worth it. 

“No, it’s okay.. You’ve been through a lot on your own,” his tone softens, clearly trying to relay sympathy for you. You nod, steadying yourself with a deep breath before you finally look at him directly, without embarrassment or shame for your feelings. “Thank you, Chan.”

“Of course,” he says, giving you a small pat on the head in the same way he used to do to comfort his brothers when they were upset. “Let’s get you a new coffee, yeah?”  

You nod again, deciding to take him up on his offer and let him buy you a new coffee. “Just stick close to me, okay?” Chan reaches his free hand out to you, offering for you to take it if you’d like to. And you do, deciding to ignore the way your heart picks back up in speed when your hand is in his.

You know there’s no romantic intent, but that doesn’t stop the butterflies from erupting in your stomach at the contact. You can tell he’s just a sweet person, that there’s nothing special about this interaction, that he’d likely do this for anyone in a similar situation to you, but regardless of your rational thoughts, you can’t calm your heart, or prevent it from skipping a beat when he gives it a reassuring squeeze before leading you out of the alley.  

It doesn’t take more than a few moments to reach the cafe again, the line having drastically shortened since you were here minutes prior. Rather than wait in the line however, Chan walks directly to the counter, with you nervously in tow. The waiting customers shoot you both angry looks, but they ultimately choose not to say anything about your transgression.

“I’m sorry, I need to take care of this real quick,” Felix says to the angry girl waiting at the front that Chan just caused you to cut off, giving her an apologetic look before turning to the both of you. “Channie-hyung! And Y/N..?” He looks puzzled to see the two of you together, and really you can’t blame him. You were just here, and now here you are again, with a guy you’ve never brought up, and–

Wait. Channie-hyung? They know each other?

“Felix, can you make her another one of these? I’ll pay for it,” Chan says, holding your ruined coffee cup to the poor barista to look at. “Don’t worry hyung, I know her order. And you don’t have to pay! I’ll take care of it,” Felix says as he takes the cup from Chan’s hands, tossing it in a bin underneath the counter before he turns to make you a new drink. Chan grumbles something under his breath about how Felix should let him pay, a subtle frown growing on his face.

“Chan,” you speak up, and he turns his head in your direction, a small “hmm?” leaving his lips. “Your other hand– it’s sticky from the coffee, isn’t it? Do you want to go rinse it off?”

“Oh– yeah, uh, I guess it is,” he says, clenching and unclenching his fist as if he only just realized when you brought it up. “I’ll be right back,” he says, letting go of your hand to make his way to the public bathroom on the other end of the cafe.

You breathe a sigh of slight relief, because as much as you enjoyed holding his hand, it made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your chest. “Here you go,” Felix says as he holds your newly made drink out to you, though instead of his usual smile, he’s looking at you full of curiosity.

“How do you know my brother?” he asks, and wow, does that take you by surprise. The cute, freckled boy who takes your order everyday and serves you with a sweet smile is Chan’s brother? You honestly can’t believe it.

“I, uhm, met him at a party. Wasn’t it your party?” you ask, remembering how Chan told you it was his brother’s and not his. Though as you recall, you didn’t see Felix there, and you definitely would’ve remembered if he was. “Oh, no! It wasn’t mine, it was Changbin’s!”

Oh, so Chan has more than one brother then? You’re about to ask to confirm, but the lady you cut off clears her throat impatiently, clearly fed up with waiting.

“Sorry ma’am, I’ll be right there!” Felix tells her politely before shifting his focus back to you, “Well, gotta get back to work, but I hope you’ll come by the house when I’m there next time! So we can talk more and be friends outside of the cafe!” 

He then waves goodbye to you with a bright smile, turning his attention back to the customers in line while you’re left more than a little stunned. You always thought Felix seemed extremely sweet and fun to be around, so you’re definitely not opposed to seeing him outside of getting your morning coffee, but you didn’t expect a friendship to happen like this.

Chan returns shortly after, and though he isn’t smiling, he does seem glad that you have a fresh coffee in your hands. “You gonna be okay? Don’t need me to walk you to class or anything?” Chan asks and you shake your head, though the fact that he even asked practically makes your heart erupt.

“N-No, I was just gonna head home, I have a paper I need to work on and turn in tonight,” you explain, and he nods in acknowledgment, thinking a moment before he speaks. “I’ll see you around then. And uh.. you know. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” 

“I will,” you smile, one that he returns ever so slightly. You thank him before you say your goodbye, waving as you make your way out of the door and back out onto the street. You take a sip of your coffee as you take your first steps back to your dorm, finding that it tastes much sweeter than the first one you had– and you like that.

Everything in your life has been that way; sweeter, more enjoyable, with Jae absent from it. And you hope that with your new friends by your side to help and support you, it will stay that way.

Chan is late getting home that night, the shit he had to do for work tonight being beyond exhausting and dirty. The first thing he does is shower, eager to get all the grime off his body so he can eat dinner and hopefully relax, if his brain and body will let him. He eats a microwave meal in relative silence when he’s clean, thinking about all that happened before he set off to work. 

He knew it was only a matter of time before he met you again, but he didn’t expect it to be in negative circumstances again. He had a job in the area that day, and figured he’d stop by Sunshine Cafe to see and get a coffee from Felix before getting things done, only to stumble on the sight of Jae dragging you off against your will. 

Without even thinking about it, he ran– he didn’t know how far Jae was going to take you, what he planned to do with you, and so he wasted no time to catch up to where he saw you go. Jae has a knack for pissing him off, but this went beyond a feeling as simple as that.

What Chan felt instead was disgust. He thought that Jae was easily the most reprehensible person he’d ever met, and that if he has nothing better to do than harass women, then he deserves to get his teeth knocked out of his skull– and Chan would happily be the one to do that. 

And that’s what he planned to do when he pulled Jae back, but when he saw the look on your face, your eyes full to the brim of unshed tears and fear, he stopped. He didn’t want you to see his violent side, he realized.

The side of him that will punch and maim and hurt, that left people bloodied and bruised. When he told you that he was a drop out, and you didn’t judge him, instead offering your understanding and shared your experience with him, he knew you were someone compassionate and good.

Why did people like you always get hurt? He’d seen it countless times, and it always made him sick with anger. And everyone in his life knew that about him, saw first hand the things he was willing to do to protect someone, but for some reason he didn’t want you to see it.

Was it because he didn’t want to taint your impression of him? Because there was a part of him that was afraid that if you knew the kind of things he’s done, that you’d retract any desire to form a friendship with him? He wasn’t sure, but what he did know is that for whatever reason, he wanted you to see him as someone better. 

It’s just past 11:30 when he flops down the couch with a sigh next to Hyunjin, who has some drama Chan doesn’t recognize playing on the tv. It was nights like tonight he wished he could turn his brain off, and not worry about what people think of him, nor be plagued by the memories of horrible things he’s done just to survive. 

Checking his phone in hopes to find something else to focus on, he sees he received a few texts whilst he was busy– most from clients, a few updates from Changbin, who was complaining about the group project he was assigned from his professor and how he’s staying out tonight to complete it, and a few more from an unsaved number that he can safely assume is yours. 

Hi Chan, it’s Y/N! 

Thank you so much for everything. I really appreciate it <3

If you’re still sure, I hope it’s okay to rely on you while I keep gathering my courage

9:12 PM ✓

it’s fine rly i’m not gonna let some dickhead like jae do whatever he wants

you can rely on me as long as you want i don’t mind

call me anytime you need

11:34 PM ✓

“What are you smiling about?” Hyunjin asks as he peers over Chan’s shoulder to take a peek. Chan jumps slightly in surprise, locking his phone screen before sliding it into his pocket. “I wasn’t smiling.”

“Uh-huh, sure you weren’t. I believe you,” Hyunjin laughs in response. Chan sits there in an awkward silence for a few moments, before he glances over to see Hyunjin looking at him with a grin. “What?” Chan questions and Hyunjin lets out another small laugh.

“Y/N, huh? Is that the girl from Changbin’s party?” Chan wants to be angry that Hyunjin saw the name on his phone and is asking about it, but honestly, he’d be curious too if it were the other way around, so he can’t fault him for asking.

“Yeah. I saw her again today and gave her my number. Jae was harassing her again, and it pisses me off when he gets away with shit, so. You know.” He’s leaving out the part about his complex, unfamiliar feelings towards you, but Hyunjin doesn’t need to know them, he thinks. Better to leave those unsaid until he figures them out for himself.

Hyunjin meanwhile clicks his tongue in disapproval, displeased to hear that Jae’s up to his usual bullshit. “What’s wrong with that dude? He and his prick friends need to get a job or something and leave everyone else alone.” 

“Well if at this point he still doesn’t get the hint, he’s an even bigger dumbass than I already think he is,” Chan says and Hyunjin laughs, agreeing with the sentiment instantly. Chan feels his phone vibrate against his leg as Hyunjin shifts his attention back to his show, and is surprised to see its response from you this close to midnight. 

Don’t say that, I might rely on you for a long time then!

11:47pm ✓

i said i don’t mind

i’m here for you okay? 

11:48pm ✓

The two of you continue to text, and unbeknownst to himself, Chan has a small smile on his face again, that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin. However, rather than tease his older brother again, he decides to let it be. As fun as it is to poke some fun, he did genuinely like seeing Chan smile. It felt so rare these days to see happiness on his face, and he was grateful to see it now, even if it was only by a small margin. 

Chan glances up from his phone to see if Hyunjin is still peeking at him, and is relieved to find that he isn’t. It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be seen texting you, but.. Before he dropped out, he had a reputation in high school for being a bad guy, with all kinds of rumors being spread about him during his freshman year.

And while a lot of them weren’t true, he didn’t mind leaning into them and letting people believe whatever they wanted to if it meant he was left alone. He had no interest in the things his classmates were interested in; grades, exams, college applications, after school clubs… None of those things mattered. 

He was forced to grow up quickly after his parents passed away, and it left him jaded to the worries someone his age would typically have had. And while he encouraged his friends-turned-brothers to do well and go after anything they wanted to, he couldn’t find it within himself to care about such fleeting things after all he’d been through.

At the time, all he wanted was to coast until graduation, and then start working full time to support himself and help his found family reach their goals. As long as the people he cared about had a chance to lead a better life than him, that was enough. 

Chan figured then, and especially when he dropped out and started working full time, that he wouldn’t have time for new friendships until much later in life, and he made his peace with that a long time ago. However, he couldn’t deny the possibility that perhaps he pushed down the idea that he did want someone to spend time with that wasn’t from his own bubble.

Someone he could talk to about mundane things, who lived a normal life with normal hardships, someone who knew nothing about the shady shit he had to do to survive, and who could distract him from the weight of his responsibilities. And maybe it was okay to let you be that friend for him. 

He was sure the others would tease him and say he has a crush, but honestly, his intentions are nothing like that. Despite what rumors would lead you to believe, he’s always been the kind of person to lift up those who needed help, and give them a place next to him. Anyone who had been dealt bad cards in life, he would help if he had the means to, because he knew how awful it felt to be alone with no one to turn to. 

Regardless of gender, you both needed someone. And if you could be that someone for Chan, he would be that someone for you, because that’s just the kind of guy he is. As long as you needed him, he’d be there for you, he’d protect you, he’d be your friend. And he hoped you’d be his friend too, and that you’d never stop needing him. 

Hiraeth; a deep sense of longing, a deep-rooted desire to return to home that no longer exists, or never existed to begin with. A homesickness tinged with grief and sorrow over what is lost and cannot be regained. A word that encompasses Chan in his entirety, though he’d be loath to admit it to any who asked, emotionally solitary as he is. 

When others feel nostalgia, there is an associated happiness– that even though they miss or long for that period of time in their life, they accept that they cannot return to it. They look back on it fondly, happy to have those memories and able to appreciate what they had.

They miss the joy they felt in those simpler times, the days where they were taken care of and pampered by their parents, where every meal was provided for them and they spent all of their free time worry free, watching their favorite cartoons on tv or playing video games for hours on end. 

But what do you do when your only memories of childhood are encompassed by an overarching sadness? When what should be happy memories are tainted by the knowledge that you lost your joy too young, that fate held no mercy, not even for a child so young- what do you do?

Chan wished he knew, because the reality is that even nearly 15 years since the day he lost his parents he still doesn’t know how to cope with his grief. And those are the thoughts that kept him up at night, his insomnia complexly woven with heartache and melancholy, unable to be separated no matter how hard he tried.

He doesn’t dare check the clock, knowing that whatever number he sees reflecting back at him will just add to the misery he feels. He shifts onto his back with a sigh, eyes now pointed directly to the bare ceiling. 

How different would his life be now if his mom and dad were still here? It was no use thinking about it, it didn’t accomplish anything other than making the ache in his chest grow tighter, but he couldn’t prevent it from happening anymore than he could turn back time and change it. There was no way to make the impossible possible, and there was equally no way to prevent his brain from fixating on the what if's and should be's of his life.

There was a part of him that felt selfish for not being happier– like he was asking for too much, expecting some sort of retribution for all the suffering he’d endured, though such a thing would assuredly never come. It wasn’t like he was always miserable, either– he had so many people in his life he cared about and made him feel sane when life was running him to the ground, he had enough money to afford the things he needed and keep everyone afloat, he was strong and (mostly) healthy.

He should be grateful for all those things, and he certainly is, but just.. It’s hard. You never stop missing the people you lose, he supposes. Even when you’re grateful, even when you’re happy and smiling, even when everything is seemingly perfect, the pain is still there.

Lingering in every interaction, present in every moment, sometimes ignorable but never forgotten, always reminding him that the hole in his heart exists, and will only ever grow larger, impossible to fill. That’s what Chan feels. 

Fuck it. 

He reaches for his phone on the coffee table, bright light immediately straining his eyes as he unlocks the device. 2:14 a.m– not the worst it could be, thankfully; it means he’s only been stuck in his head for a little over an hour. Should he text you and see if you’ve fallen asleep yet, he wonders?

No– better not to disturb you, and risk himself saying too much about what he feels due to lapse in judgment. The thought of telling anyone about how sad and lonely he is inside makes him physically ill– he dreads the feeling of vulnerability, hates the way his emotions catch in his throat and eyes fill with tears whenever he tries.

He’s always regretted sharing in the past, not because of the fault of anyone he told, but purely due to his own inability to not feel shame and embarrassment when he lets someone in. His friends, brothers, found family, whatever you wanted to call them– very few of them saw Chan at his worst, but in an ideal world, none of them would’ve seen it.

He can still remember the look on Minho’s face the first time he broke down in front of him, and it plagues him. He couldn’t control it– the tears just wouldn’t stop coming no matter how hard he tried to keep them in, choked, broken sobs leaving him uncontrollably as his body shook and trembled. 

Minho comforted him, of course– he wasn’t going to leave Chan to suffer alone after seeing him in such a state. But when the moment passed, there was no comfort or consolation within him to be felt– just the shame and embarrassment that twisted itself into a gnawing self-consciousness.

And the thought of being in that state of self-doubt and hatred in front of you was even worse, because you were the absolute last person he wanted to see him that way. Maybe one day, but not now– not when your friendship was still relatively fresh and being built upon. 

But.. even if he’s not ready to share his deepest thoughts and feelings, he still wants to talk to you now. He wants to see you smile at him, he wants to listen to you talk about what your plans are for when the winter semester is over and the weather starts to become warm again.

He wants to see the twinkle in your eye when you talk about what your newest favorite song is, wants to your your thoughts on whatever new meal you tried out for dinner. Because as silly as it is, in the few months it’s been since he first became your friend, those are the things he’s come to enjoy most and look forward to. 

Are you still awake now? Are you staring up at his ceiling the way he is now in the living room? Is his bed comfortable enough for you? Did he leave you with enough blankets?

He could text you so easily to find out, but for some reason the thought of it makes him extremely nervous. You’ve been to the house plenty of times now since becoming friends with not only him, but Felix, Hyunjin, and Changbin, but this is the first time you’re staying overnight. 

You initially came at the request to help Changbin, who is currently taking a class you took last semester but is struggling with the material, and needed assistance to understand the concepts he was being introduced to. You brought your laptop with you, using it to show Changbin the detailed notes you took and offering him copies of the study guides you made, and it truly made Chan happy to see you helping his brother out so diligently. 

After a couple hours, Changbin let you off the hook, citing that his brain was tired from the overload of information and he’d be hitting the gym to let off some steam. “Oh my god, it’s this late already? I still have to work on my discussion post for this week,” you groaned, evidently dreading the work you’d have to put into making it decent enough for your professor’s obnoxiously high standards. 

“I can help you,” Chan offered without even thinking, and God, why did even do that? Because how was he, a high school dropout with no GED, realistically going to help someone as smart as you?

He wasn’t dumb by any means, but what kind of input could he even offer that would benefit you? But despite the way his brain made fun of him for his lapse in judgment, and convinced him that you’d absolutely refuse his help, you smiled at him.

“Yeah, okay! We should get some food too, I haven’t had dinner yet and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” you spoke cheerfully, opening up a new tab on your laptop to check over the delivery options in the area. He was stunned for a moment, feeling like his entire nervous system was zapped the moment you accepted his offer.

There was no hesitation, no doubt in your mind that he could help despite what you know of his education history– why did that make him feel so warm inside? 

The corners of his mouth tugged in a smile as he helped you pick out a restaurant to order from, the two of you munching on burgers and fries as he listened to your thoughts on what your discussion post should be about. You bounced your ideas off him, and while he wasn’t knowledgeable on the subject you needed to write about, discussing it with him still seemed to help you.

It was kind of like thinking aloud; like voicing what you thought worked and what didn’t, what you thought your professor would like to see and what he wouldn’t helped you to formulate a more cohesive outline in your mind. Chan watched as you typed furiously, tongue slightly poked out and brows furrowed as you concentrated on the screen in front of you.

You’d occasionally seek his input, asking things like “does this make sense?” or “do you think this is too much or not enough?” He was entirely out of his depth if he was being honest, but he was happy you wanted his input regardless, and enjoyed seeing a side of you he didn’t typically see. 

With Chan’s (albeit limited) help, you managed to finish before the midnight deadline, hitting submit on your post with just a few minutes to spare. You stood up and stretched your arms and legs, feeling stiff from all your time spent hunched at the same spot, a sigh of relief leaving you shortly after.

But then there came the next dilemma– getting home this late into the night. Chan didn’t live far from campus, and thus was near the dorms as well, but the thought of you walking home in relative darkness by yourself didn’t sit well with him. 

“You can stay here if you want. You can take my bed, I’ll stay here,” he suggested. You blinked, staying silent as you processed the offer. Chan, who took the quiet as discomfort, was quick to speak up again and try to remedy it, “Or uh, I could walk you back if you’d prefer that–”

“N-No!” you quickly blurted out, face reddening slightly as you cleared your throat to speak more calmly, “I mean– I’ll stay.” Chan nodded, standing up to go up to his room with you; you didn’t need to be led there of course, you already knew where it is, but Chan needed to at least grab a few things for himself before leaving it to you for the rest of the night.

A pair of clothes to sleep in, a blanket, a pillow, his phone charger, and he’s all set. You watched him move about the room while sitting on his bed, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you did. “I’ll see you in the morning, uhm– let me know if you need anything, yeah? I’ll be on the couch, so.. Yeah, good night,” he said with a slight smile before he departed, doing his best to close the door behind himself despite how full his hands were.

Another sigh leaves his lips now, followed by another check of the time; it’s already 2:30 a.m. He doubts you're still awake, and even if you are, he's decided he won't bother you. But if he’s going to lose sleep no matter what, he hopes it's from thinking about you comfortably wrapped in his blankets upstairs, instead of any of the other things that attempt to gnaw at him.

How on earth were you supposed to sleep?

You were in Chan’s bed, surrounded by the smell of his cologne, his stuffed toy wolf clutched closely to your chest because you always held something to fall asleep, but obviously didn’t have any of your own plushies here to do so. And God, your heart absolutely refuses to be still no matter how mundane of a situation you’re in.

Who cares if you’re spending the night in the bed of the guy best friend that you’ve started to develop a crush on? It doesn’t matter! You’re going insane, you think– you can’t take it.

You’re stupid, delusional, thinking about how it'd be if he was still here with you, what it’d be like if he were laying down next to you. Wrapping his arm around you, pulling you against his chest, speaking to you in a gravelly, tired voice and– please brain stop!!

You pour all your mental effort into stopping yourself from thinking about it any further as embarrassment flushes over you. Isn’t this kind of cringey..? Getting a crush on the first guy to ever be nice to you seems so.. Cliche? Pathetic? What is even wrong with you? But when you look at him, you can’t help it. 

He may look intimidating to others, but you’ve seen the truth of him since becoming his friend. Maybe it’s just puppy love that will fade with time, but you can’t help but admire him. And maybe that admiration is being fueled by the fact that he’s also incredibly handsome, but that’s besides the point. Underneath the aloof exterior, he’s sweet, caring, humble, generous.. How could you not like him? 

And you think about the first time you saw him smile– really smile, full and bright, teeth showing and eyes crinkled as a laugh escaped him. It was so beautiful, you felt like time slowed down around you.

You learned that he had dimples that day; cute ones that made his smile endearing beyond explanation, and that you hoped you’d see again and again and again from that day forward. You loved the way he looked when he was happy, when his hard exterior melted away to reveal the soft features he hid underneath.

Every day spent with Chan was full of a joy you thought you’d lost the capability to feel. You found yourself endlessly enamored by him, by every thing you learned about him; every interaction you had with him, intensified the feeling that welled in your chest.

He was so considerate of you, always watching out for you and making sure you were okay when you were out together. Like the time a few weeks ago when all of you were out together, celebrating Felix’s birthday.

You also met the other guys Chan considered his brothers that day; Jisung and Seungmin, who also had birthdays very close to Felix’s, Minho, who was close in age to Chan and equally as aloof in appearance, and Jeongin, the youngest of them all, though only by a small margin. It was fun to watch them all interact together over dinner, their dynamics quickly becoming apparent.

Changbin, who was typically loud to begin with, became even more so in the presence of Jisung, the pair becoming so explosively loud and chaotic that even the quieter ones like Chan and Minho would end up roped into whatever shouting was currently taking place. You’d laugh as you observed the chaos, and you enjoyed seeing a new side of Chan– one who let loose and had fun, who smiled freely and laughed just as much, who was beautiful beyond words. 

You learned a lot about them that day too– about how Minho moved to the opposite end of the city to go to vet school and how Jisung moved into a small apartment with him to make sure he was taking care of himself (and to help care for the cats the older had adopted shortly after.)

Hyunjin, who you already knew was an avid painter, expressed his desire to own a studio some day, and Felix, your favorite barista and baker, talked about all the times he failed at a dessert and forced the others to eat them anyway so they wouldn’t go to waste. 

Seungmin was scouted to play baseball, and so moved pretty far away from the others now, but still loved to come back to the city and visit when he could, often with a camera in hand to capture moments he found beautiful. Jeongin was taking a gap year before going to school again, trying to make sure that he was sure about what he wanted to do with his life before committing himself to the hours of work and money spent. 

You were in awe of them, truly; they were all so different, yet came together and loved one another so genuinely, as real brothers would. And they all unanimously agreed that Chan was the one who held them together, the one who supported them through everything and helped them during the hardest times in their life.

You loved how anytime someone praised him, or had anything even remotely positive to say about him, his ears would light up red with embarrassment as he turned his gaze away from them. You knew Chan was softie underneath, that was obvious to you from the day you met him, but it was still nice to have your opinion of him affirmed by others, to know that was the kind of person he always was.

And he expressed that he didn’t see his actions as praiseworthy, always feeling awkward when it was brought up. To Chan, it was just human decency to help someone if he had the means to– a feeling that stemmed from the time he spent alone and in need of help when he was a child. 

He was well acquainted with that pain, knew how miserable it was, and he didn’t want anyone else to experience it. He couldn’t ignore someone who was clearly in need, so he always helped; even if he wasn’t in the best of circumstances himself, he would do whatever he could for them, no questions asked. And he never asked for anything in return, because to him, seeing the person back on track and happy again was reward enough. 

You knew every kind thing they said about Chan was no exaggeration, knew first hand that he truly was the kindest person you’d ever met. He put on a mask of toughness, sure, but there was no one in the world who was as generous and caring as him. You looked at him with pure adoration, which certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin, who smiled to himself whenever he saw the way you’d blush or smile whenever Chan looked back your way. 

And when you were leaving the restaurant together, each saying your goodbyes as you readied yourselves to head in your separate directions, you saw him. It was pure coincidence– Jae was across the street, talking with some friends as he stood outside the bar smoking, completely unaware of the fact that you were even in the area.

Chan looked at you, noticed the way you suddenly stopped in place and just stared across the street, and he followed your gaze to the culprit. He stepped close to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to his body.

“It’s okay, he didn’t see you,” Chan comforted you, bringing his other hand to your face, directing you to look away from Jae and at him instead, “and even if he did, I’m right here. Just stick close to me, okay?” You nodded slowly, wondering if the thumb that rested on your cheek could feel the way heat rose to it.

The others who were there, a group consisting of just the 3 who lived with Chan, just observed, not daring to step in until the moment was over. They all knew Jae well, and were also well aware of the things he’d done to you, at least on the surface level, and they promised that they’d look out for you too. 

You thanked them earnestly at the time, honestly unable to think of a single time you’d ever felt such solidarity, deeply appreciative of them, and of Chan, who brought you all together. But now, as they all stood there watching, they felt it’d be best to leave it to Chan, who you quite obviously had feelings for. Hyunjin and Felix shared a knowing look, deciding to drag Changbin down the street with them before he’d have the opportunity to accidentally interrupt your moment. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he squeezed your shoulder, leading you to walk away from the area with him. There was no romantic intent, you knew that– he was keeping you close to make sure you were okay, to ensure that you were within his reach should anything happen. Chan was a kind hearted person who did anything needed to protect others and there was nothing special about this interaction, you knew that. 

But regardless of all those rational thoughts you were repeating to yourself, you couldn’t stop the way it made your heart skip a beat, couldn’t help the way his care for you made your knees weak and face hot. Because even if he never liked you the way you liked him, he still cared about you, and that was enough fuel for your growing crush on him, enough to make your heart beat out of control. 

Was he still awake? Chan told you before that he was an insomniac, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he was just as wide awake as you are. Should you go check?

There was certainly no harm in it– if he did happen to be asleep, you’d just quietly slip back to his room and let him get some much needed rest, while you'd try again to get some sleep. There was really no reason not to go. 

Carefully, you rise from the bed, wolf plush tucked safely in your arms and blanket wrapped around you, quietly opening the door and exiting out into the hallway. You’re careful not to make the stairs creak as you make your way down to the living room where Chan is supposed to be, and he immediately comes into view once you’re at the bottom.

It’s obvious he’s awake, phone screen brightly illuminating the otherwise pitch black space. He hears your footsteps as you step closer, lifting his head just enough to see who is approaching him this late at night.

He looks surprised to see you for a moment, an emotion you can’t read in the relative darkness on his face for just a second before he’s sitting up and scooting to the side to make room for you on the couch next to him. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” he asks as you plop down in the spot he’s provided for you next to him, “Is my bed uncomfortable?” 

“Oh, no! Your bed was fine, it’s just..” I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it was driving me crazy, you think, but don't admit, “.. a lot on my mind, I guess.” He hums in acknowledgment, definitely feeling the same way; but he didn’t need to drag you down with all that.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he offers, but you quickly shake your head, mortified at the thought of revealing your crush on him. That’s the last thing you should do. “Thanks, but no, I just want to take my mind off it.” 

He chuckles a little at your response, opting instead to change the subject, “I see you have Wolf Chan with you.” Wolf Chan? You look down at your arms, the cute wolf toy’s head peeking out from between your arms.

“Oh, he has a name?” you ask and he nods, smiling ever so slightly as he speaks. “Yeah, kinda embarrassing but I had a huge wolf phase as a kid, so my mom and dad got me him for my birthday. Named him after myself cause, you know, kid brain thought it was cool.” 

“That’s cute! When is your birthday?” you ask, hoping that you’d have the chance to plan something nice for him as thanks for all he’s done for you in the time you’ve known him. “October 3rd,” he answers swiftly, and you frown.

“..What? It already passed then? Why didn’t you tell me?” your frown transitions into a pout, sad at the realization that you all celebrated his brother's birthdays but not his. 

“I.. don’t really celebrate it. Wolf Chan– he was the last gift I got from my parents, the last birthday I had with them before.. Yeah. So I just.. Don’t acknowledge my birthday anymore, I guess?” Your heart sinks, not only because of how sad that is, but because you’re holding something clearly so important and personal to him without even having known it. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know– should I go put him back?” 

“Nah, don’t worry. I like it actually,” he smiles softly, sincerely, “I haven’t touched him in a long time myself, so.. He needs the attention. I’m sure he was feeling neglected.” You smile back, relief washing over you instantly, thankful that you didn’t unintentionally make a drastic error. “Well I hope you know, I can’t let your birthday go ignored now that I know it.”

“I expected that,” he replies, knowing full well you’d share that sentiment with his brothers. They still always wish him a happy birthday and get him a gift despite how often he expresses that they shouldn’t.

“Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer,” you ask carefully, voice quiet and unsure, an underlying worry carried in your tone. Chan swallows, already anticipating what the question will be, the same questions he’s answered countless times, but never gets any easier to talk about.

“What they were like? You must still think about them a lot.” Oh. That wasn’t the question he was expecting. He’s used to being asked what happened, how he's coping, if there’s anything he needs– no one has ever asked about what they were like when they were still here.

He anticipates pity, or a sympathy that while mostly appreciated, makes him feel incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. Even with practice, there’s still times where he doesn’t know how to react, a terse, “I’m fine, thanks,” leaving him as he plots the quickest way out of the conversation. 

Safe to say, Chan isn’t good about talking about his feelings, or even feeling them to begin with for that matter. Apart from moments of weakness, when his facade cracks due to the mounting pressure and overload of emotions, he shares only what he deems necessary, never offering more than the minimum of what is needed.

Even when it came to his brothers, who he trusts more than anyone else, it was hard for him to go beyond his practiced response, taking him a great amount of emotional effort to do so. And he's not confident he can talk with you about how good they were without breaking down, but he can still share a little of how he feels, can't he?

“I do,” he answers after a moment, voice ever so slightly wavering. It's a simple response, sure, but not for Chan– nothing related to this topic is ever simple or easy for him. But somehow he feels comfortable enough to try.

And maybe that’s because it’s encroaching 3am and lack of sleep really takes a toll on one’s mental defenses, but he doesn’t think that’s all there is to it. He trusts you, as he does anyone he’s grown close to, but it takes more than trust alone to be able to open up.

You could trust someone with your life and still struggle to express an emotion, still have the words you want to say die in your throat. Maybe it’s because of what else he feels when he’s around you– an unfamiliar emotion that encroaches on his chest whenever you’re in the room with him. 

The one that intensifies his desire to protect you from people like Jae, the one that leads to him wanting to talk to you at all hours about any and every thing that comes to your mind, the one that makes his heart pick up when you smile at him and always makes him return the smile despite himself.

He wants to share with you, he realizes; share everything he can, from his happy moments to his sad ones, his thoughts, his feelings, his entire life even. He wants nothing to be off limits, to be his authentic self before you, even if who he is deep down is ugly and scarred.

“Even just before you came downstairs, I was thinking of them,” he continues, his honesty unfamiliar to himself but not unwelcome; it’s not that he’d lie about anything he felt, but he was just.. Avoidant. He didn’t want to talk about it, refused to even, most times.

But you– you make him want to be honest, not just with you, but with himself. Maybe it’s because of the feelings for you that have begun to accumulate in his heart, or maybe because he knows how similar you are. The circumstances were different, but the feelings were the same; isolation, sadness, hopelessness.

No one to turn to, no one to rely on, fighting all by yourself, with only your own ability to pick yourself back up to carry you forward. Chan knew first hand how painful that existence is, how much it hurts to have nothing, no one. He’s also come to learn, time and time again, that even when you’ve found your place in the world, the void lingers.

The hole in his chest never closes– even if he can stop it’s growth, it never shrinks, never collapses or recedes. There’s reasons for that, he knows; it’s his own fault for not allowing himself to feel, to share, his hesitancy to allow anyone past arm’s length or to chip at his walls.

He doesn’t want that with you– if he wants something with you beyond this, beyond the boundaries of simple friendship, he needs to do more, feel more, share more. It was something he thought he would be terrified to do, an irrational fear that your opinion of him would change if he wasn't as strong as he appeared to be; but now that he's met with the opportunity, instead of fear, he feels.. safe? 

“I lost them really young, you know; I was just a kid with a lot of grief he didn’t know how to handle, and the people who took me in didn’t care. ‘Suck it up,’ ‘get over it,’ ‘stop being a baby and grow up,’ shit like that. Didn’t matter that I was only 7 and lost everything, I should just be grateful they gave me a place to sleep and eat."

"Got emancipated at 16 to get away from them, dropped out of school cause I couldn’t balance it with how much I had to work, and I wasn’t gonna miss it anyways. And here I am now,” Chan is hesitant to meet your gaze when he finishes talking, worried about what feeling it might conjure in him when he sees your eyes laden with sympathy. 

Normally, the sympathy of others make him feel sick. He hates the pity, hates the attention that comes with having his vulnerabilities on display, hates the words they offer as consolation. But he doesn't hate it for you– the only thing you ever make him feel is warm. So, so warm after a lifetime of cold.

You move across the couch and wrap your arms around him in a hug, an action he didn’t expect– it's the first time you're hugging him. “That must’ve been so hard..” you say softly, care and concern for him evident in the way you speak to him.

He blinks, a lump forming in his throat that normally he’d try to ignore, to push away and act as if he’s fine, but this time he doesn’t. He’s choked up, he’s emotional, and for once, that’s okay. 

Carefully, he wraps his arms around you as well, his head resting atop yours as he lets out a shaky exhale. “Can we stay like this for a while?” he asks quietly, his fingers clutching at your shirt, as if afraid you’ll leave him the moment he lets go.

“Of course,” you assure him, moving just enough to make yourself more comfortable and settle in against him, “as long as you need.” He mumbles a ‘thank you’, to which you hum in response, following his lead as he lays back and settles with you in his arms. 

You stay like that for a long time– long enough for your breathing to slow, eyes closed and arms beginning to fall from the hug as you drift off. Your head has sank to his chest, his heartbeat, that started fast and erratic, has slowed to a comforting, steady rhythm that lulled you to sleep.

Chan is careful to pull the blanket up to your shoulders, ensuring that you at least are covered and will stay plenty warm until you wake up. He closes his eyes, keeping his arms wrapped around you under the blanket, wanting to keep you close and not let go.

He doesn’t know if he’ll always have this with you; this close comfort, this feeling of peace and calm, of having you in his arms and being able to be held by you, while holding you in return. He likes it, wants it engraved in his memory in case it never happens again, to always remember the way you felt, the way you cared, the safety he felt with you. A small, but cherished moment, special and important to him beyond words.

Was it okay to be this happy? It’s something Chan thought about lately, whenever he had finished spending a day with you, laying in his bed and playing them over in his mind, making sure every little detail was memorized.

The way you smiled, the way you laughed, the feel of your soft skin when he touched your hand or you hugged him tight, the way your perfume lingered in the room long after you’d left it. Did he deserve to be happy?

He certainly didn’t feel like he did, but he welcomed it all the same, too selfish to let go of the small piece of joy he’d obtained. His feelings for you had grown considerably, and he was sure it was obvious to his brothers, who never failed to notice the way he'd change when he was around you; they just knew him too well and were around him too much to not notice something different about his behavior. 

He liked you a lot, and there was certainly no way he’d be able to deny it if they asked about it. They didn’t overtly ask about it though of course, more often opting to make subtle nods to their knowledge of it or make suggestions like ‘wouldn’t it be fun if Y/N came too? You should invite her!’ when they had plans together.

Sometimes they even lightly poked some fun, one instance that sticks in Chan's mind being when Hyunjin wanted to show him what he called an “adorable picture.” It was of you and Chan, asleep on the couch together that first time you stayed the night.

Your head on his chest, his arm loosely wrapped around you, blanket having fallen from your shoulders just enough to make Chan’s hand on your back come into view. His face flushed when he saw it, ears burning as they turned red. Hyunjin was right, it was an adorable picture, and Chan was embarrassed beyond belief to see the moment captured. 

Hyunjin giggled in a mischievous sort of delight upon seeing the older’s reaction, evidently very pleased with the result he obtained. Chan's typical response in a situation where his feelings are exposed like this would be to play it cool and act like it’s not a big deal, which truthfully, he didn’t want to do.

Why should he pretend he doesn’t like you as much as he does? Especially after he’s decided he’ll do his best to be honest with himself, and by extension, the others in his life (you especially.) Even if it’s embarrassing, or uncomfortable because he’s not used to his emotions being obvious and out on display, it’s what he wants, needs even.

He needs to let them out if he’s going to be a better man than he was the day before, to be deserving of you when the time is right. So instead, he does what would normally be the unthinkable– he owns it. No denial, no avoidance, no playing it off as less severe or important than it really is to him. 

“Can you.. send it to me? I– I want to keep it,” Chan asked, easily the most shy and embarrassed to ask a question he had ever been in his entire life. Hyunjin blinked, initially surprised, but then immediately smiled. “Of course Channie-hyung! You should send it to Y/N too, I’m sure she’d like it,” he said as he eagerly opened his message tab, clicking Chan’s name to send the photo he took. 

“You could send it to her,” Chan responded before the words following fully sank in. Would you? “You think she’d want it too?” he asked, wondering if Hyunjin could tell how much hope lied in his question.

“Why wouldn’t she? You’re friends, aren’t you? And it’s a cute memory,” Hyunjin said, doing his best to convey why he thinks you’d want it without revealing that you absolutely have as bad of a crush on Chan as he does on you. (And it’s not like you explicitly told him either; it’s just that you’re as obvious about it and easy to read as Chan is.) 

“Right, yeah, of course.” Was it silly to hope that Hyunjin would say something like ‘obviously because she likes you!’ …Yeah. Definitely. But when he looked at the picture, it gave him hope that maybe you felt the same way; and if you didn’t, that maybe you would in the future, after he gave his earnest effort to be someone good. 

His next bit of hope came during a get together for Hyunjin’s birthday. The weather had just begun to turn warm, the days slowly getting longer and longer, allowing for more frequent outings. Thus, by Hyunjin’s own request, you went to have some fun downtown, hitting up local art scenes and scouting out opportunities for the birthday boy to get some fresh, new supplies.

It turned out to be a long day, with Hyunjin’s interest piqued towards various different places and sights, and as night rolled in most of the group had empty stomachs and aching legs. You all settled for having dinner at the house, picking up takeout and a birthday cake on the way back.

You seemed different after eating dinner, Chan noticed. You were sitting alone on the couch away from the group in the kitchen, who were crowding around the birthday cake waiting for a slice. You were watching them with an almost somber expression, and Chan could’ve sworn your eyes were fixated on him in particular. 

Had he done something to upset you? There was nothing he could recall, but he wasn’t exactly well versed or experienced with understanding or handling the complexities of feelings. He could easily imagine a world in which he unintentionally said or did something wrong, but he hoped that maybe you were just tired, and Chan only thought you were looking at him in sadly, when in reality, exhaustion was just catching up to you. 

And really, you were staring at Chan, but not for the reason he feared; he hadn’t done a single thing to upset you– quite the contrary, actually. He was good– not just to you, but to everyone. You watched the way he’d shoulder everything, how he’d support endlessly and rarely accept anything back, always so selfless and caring, withstanding anything thrown his way with generous consideration. 

You learned a lot about Chan in your time with him; about his youth, what his family dynamic used to be like, how even before he dropped out he had a bad reputation at his school for appearing stand-offish and cold. That reputation followed him for a majority of his life after leaving as well, with most people who knew him having a great dislike for him due to their perceived vision of him and the half-truths (or outright lies) they believed in.

It was only people like you and his brothers, who took the time to know him beyond the superficial front, that knew what a great person he truly was. And truthfully, it angered you; why were people so quick to judge someone they didn’t know?

Chan was the exact opposite of what people made him out to be. He wasn’t violent or cruel, nor was he scary or someone to be avoided at all costs. He was just a boy, now a man, who had suffered far too much pain and cruelty for someone his age, who was just doing his best to navigate the world with the limited resources he had. What was so wrong with that? 

But despite all the misconceptions of others, the burdens he carried, or the responsibilities he had, you never once heard him complain about any of it, or show any sign of annoyance. Because despite what people might think about him, the people close to him knew who he truly was– someone who lived his life with compassion and kindness, who was misunderstood but not ill-intentioned, always trying his best despite the difficulties that came his way. 

Sometimes you would wonder, though– is he really okay? Chan had dealt with so much, enough to easily break down even the most resolute of people. And as much as he shared, there was equally as much that you didn’t know; about what he felt, if he ever received as much as he gave, if he was truly happy.

You did your best to ensure he was. You always returned whatever favor he gave you, strived to be a reassuring presence for him as much as he was for you, but it was hard to know if that was enough.  You wanted to ask, but you didn’t know how best to broach the subject, or if he’d even be willing to talk about it if you did.

He had opened up to you before, during late night chats or if something he saw reminded him of a memory he held, but the moments themselves were quite fleeting, and you worried about him. You always worried about him, no matter where you were or what you were doing, because simply put, you loved him. 

You weren’t in love with him (you definitely were), but he was an undeniably important person in your life, who you had a lot of love and care for. He was your friend, and you wanted the best for him.

You’d never force him to share with you or tell you anything he didn’t want to of course, but you hoped he knew that he could if he wanted to. You hoped he knew that he never had to be scared or uncertain when it came to opening up to you, you hoped he knew that you would always listen to him and be there for him. 

Chan approached you carefully, working up his courage to talk to you and see if you were okay, and to know if there was an apology he owed you for some unknown grievance. “Are you okay? What’s got you so deep in thought tonight?” he’d asked, trying his best to not show how nervous he felt; you’d stopped looking at him, but he could tell even from afar that you were focused on something.

“Oh, I..” You hesitated a moment, wondering how you should best phrase what your honest thoughts were. You took a quick glance towards the kitchen where everyone else was, noting that everyone still seemed to be involved in their own conversations and antics, not paying any mind to the two of you. That made it a little easier; you think you’d die of embarrassment if they heard what you planned to say next. 

“I was thinking about you actually,” you said quietly after turning your gaze back to Chan. What surprised him wasn’t just how openly you admitted it, but how you didn’t seem the least bit angry or upset with him like he was worried you were.

So.. what about him had you so deep in thought, then? “What about me..?” he asked hesitantly, hoping for the best but still slightly scared he was reading you completely wrong. 

You swallowed before continuing, worried that you were somehow going to offend him by bringing up what you were thinking. While you felt like you knew Chan fairly well at this point, people can still become defensive or agitated when asked about something personal, and that’s the last thing you wanted him to feel.

But he’s looking at you expectantly, eyes fixed solely on you as he waited to hear what you had to say, so there was no getting out of it now. “I was wondering if you are okay lately. Like.. really okay, and not just saying you are so we don’t worry about you.” 

Oh. He was completely stunned by your words, unexpectedly taken aback. No one had ever said that to him before, and he didn’t know how to respond to such earnest concern for him. Obviously, he had been asked if he was okay plenty of times in his life, but never in a way such as this, that insinuated there was a lot more hiding below the surface.

And there was. Deep buried feelings gnawed at him, begging to be acknowledged, but he always pushed them down further, reasoning that now wasn’t the time and he’d confront them later, when the time was right. 

But when was the right time? It never came, no time ever feeling like the right one. Or maybe Chan just spent so much time avoiding his feelings that now he didn’t know how to confront them anymore. He was so used to sharing so little, that even his earnest efforts were still small in comparison to what most others were able to do.

But how did you realize that about him? Was it just coincidence, or were you already so acclimated to him that you could recognize the way his brain worked? “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you said after his prolonged pause, worried that you did in fact make him uncomfortable as you feared.

“I– No, I was just surprised,” he finally responded, turning to look in the direction of his friends just as you had done a moment prior. They were all joking around, laughing loudly as they made the birthday boy wear a stupid party hat they picked up and putting frosting on his face, leaving Chan in his own little bubble with you. 

He turned his gaze back to you, wanting to say something, anything, but finding it difficult to speak, as usual. His words were trapped in his throat, refusing to come to the surface no matter how much effort he poured into trying. You took notice of his hesitancy, and decided to speak again in the hopes of giving him some comfort.

“I just– you’ve done a lot for me since I met you, more than anyone ever has, so… I want to be there for you too. If you need it, I mean, because I really, really care about you..” Your face heats up a bit when you’re finished speaking, feeling nervous from the admission. 

This must feel so out of the blue from Chan’s perspective, and that thought made you feel silly for bringing it up in the middle of a birthday party in the first place. And on top of that, you’d openly said how much you care about him, which is embarrassing all on its own. Even if it’s not a love confession by any means, it feels similar enough that it makes your heart pound like crazy. 

Chan’s face grew hot, positively burning, heart rate picking up drastically. He hopes you don’t notice the obvious red creeping on his features, or hear how fast his heart is beating against his chest. It wasn’t just the fact that he hadn’t expected this moment to happen that made him react this way, but the way you expressed your concern for him.

You wanted to support him, you wanted to make sure he was okay, you were thinking about him. Normal things, sure, but when coming from someone you have undeniable feelings for, it’s enough to make your blood pressure skyrocket. 

He swallowed, preparing himself to make another attempt at speaking. “Thank you, I really appreciate that,” he said, offering a timid smile your way to ease your growing anxiety as he continued, “It might be hard for me, but– but I’ll try, at the very least.. To tell you if I’m not okay, I mean.”

You returned his smile earnestly, evidently pleased with his response. You couldn’t ask him to open up easily or suddenly share all his close-held concerns and deeply buried thoughts, but the fact that he’d try and was open to it was what’s important. If he could trust you the way you had grown to trust him, that’d be more than enough for you to be happy.

From a distance, Felix had taken notice of the way you and Chan hadn’t joined in on the chaos of chasing Hyunjin around the kitchen to cover him with icing, and paused to look in your direction. The others stopped too when they noticed his pause, following his gaze to be met with the same sight of Chan’s burning face and the beaming smile you held towards him. They had hope, as much as Chan did, that there would come a day where the two of you would become a couple. 

Was it okay to be this happy? Was it okay for Chan to hope that you returned his feelings? Was it okay to plan his confession, to wonder how his life would look if you said yes, to picture himself kissing you and holding you close at all hours of the day?

There were still things he had to do first, things to get out of and people to get away from, but you were his driving force to do that. You were the motivation to turn his life into something better, the hope he needed to get through it all. 

Even if he didn’t deserve it, you made it worth trying. His life, which was plagued with bad memories and remorse for actions taken, became brighter and more livable when you were there to share it with him. Maybe it was okay to have someone to lean on, someone to confide in and share his burden with, someone to ground him and remind him that happiness is possible for him, and that it doesn’t always have to be a fleeting hope or dream. 

That’s what you were for him– hope in human form, a dream come true. Everything he wanted, everything he needed, beautiful and perfect in every way. And if you accepted his feelings, he’d never stop showing his appreciation to you, he’d shower you with all the love you could handle and then some, making sure you always knew just how much you meant to him.

There were many things in this life that left Park Jaehyung feeling resentful; the way adults expected absolute obedience from him, the way he was expected to be an exemplary student with no flaws, and the way society projected their version of ‘success’ onto him. He wanted to do what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it, with no one to tell him what is or isn’t proper.

All he wanted in life was to have fun and live by his own terms, consequences be damned. If he wanted to smoke, he’d do it. If he wanted to party, he’d do it. And if he wanted to get with a girl, even one who absolutely loathed his existence, he’d do it. So, what by far angered him more than anything else was the way Bang Chan had thrown himself into your life. 

Jae would say that he knew Chan and his crew fairly well, often finding themselves within the same spaces. And from an outside perspective, comparisons definitely could be made between them; after all, how different from each other could some ex-school delinquents be from a shady drop out that no one gave a shit about, and his friends that followed him around like lost puppies?

They’d often find themselves rooted in the same places, attending the same parties, pissing off or scaring the same people; but that was the extent of any similarity between them. Contrary to what an outsider may believe, Jae absolutely hated Chan, and anyone who would look at them and come to the conclusion that they were friends were blatant fucking morons. 

From Jae’s perspective, Chan was pretentious and irritating; he always had a holier than thou attitude, looking down on Jae and his friends as if he was any better. Who was Chan to preach about morals and principles? Who gives a fuck about any of that bullshit?

Jae certainly didn’t, and he was tired of being told he was ‘in the wrong.’ If Chan wanted to spend his whole life worrying about whether or not what he was doing was right or wrong, he could, but Jae wasn’t going to listen to it. Besides, it was pretty fucking ironic to get lectured by a “professional fixer" of all people. He really should drop the “I’m better than you” act.

But for the most part, Jae could live his everyday life without interacting with Chan, or seeing any of his loyal idiots. The occasional glare on the street or punch thrown at a party was the extent of their relationship, if you could even call it that. As long as both sides minded their own business, there wasn’t much conflict to be had.

Sure, Jaehyung would love to instigate a problem given how much he disliked them, but he wasn’t stupid enough to start a fight he wouldn’t assuredly win. Some might accuse him of cowardice, but he would argue that it was just being smart. There was nothing to be gained from a losing battle; it was better to bide his time, and wait for the right moment. And there was a critical piece missing in the “right moment” that he still needed; you. 

For as long as he could remember, Jae found school pointless. It was repetitive, boring, and everyone around him was exceedingly fake. They all wore such obvious masks, trying (and failing, in Jae’s opinion) to appear without fault. No one was perfect and he found it pitiful to even try and pretend they were.

No matter who you are or what you do, something will be flawed. There will always be something wrong with you, always something there for someone to criticize. So what was the point of it all? By the time he entered high school he was used to this monotony and the ignorance of his peers. 

And that’s when he saw you for the first time; shy, vulnerable, unmasked you. You weren’t trying to project anything to anyone that wasn’t authentically you, though at first he couldn’t tell if that was intentional or not. Maybe you simply had no reason to, or you were comfortable not to, or maybe didn’t even realize how different you were amongst the people he’d grown to hate.

Whatever the reason, he was intrigued by your ‘realness’ in a sea of two faced, judgemental people. You were smart but not boastful, kind but not pretentious, beautiful but seemingly modest; and he liked it. 

At first, his fixation with you started with simple curiosity driven observation. You were always at the top of the class but never once looked down on anyone below you. And while he personally found studying incredibly tedious and pointless, he did oddly admire how much you devoted yourself to it.

You weren’t born smart, at least he assumed so from how often he witnessed you studying, rather you reached your heights through effort and determination. And instead of finding it a worthless effort like he would if it were someone else, he found himself meeting a strange feeling he couldn't name. 

He wasn’t sure why, but watching you give your earnest effort to your studies didn’t piss him off like it did with everyone else. Normally he’d tell someone like you that they were wasting their time– studying was stupid, school was stupid, and anyone who cared about it was stupid as well. So why didn’t he have that same sentiment towards you? Why did he want to encourage you? 

Why did he want to always look at you? What was it about you that infatuated him so much? He could have any girl he wanted, ones who lined up with his view of the world and he could woo as easily as he could tie his shoe, but instead he always found his gaze landing on you.

To like someone like you went against everything he ever told himself, but maybe that was okay. Maybe you could change his perspective, make him the kind of person that could care about the shit he's supposed to.  

That’s why he approached you that day. He didn’t tell any of his friends what he was feeling or about his intentions to get to know you– it was something he wanted to do for himself. He didn’t want to look at you from afar anymore, he wanted to be next to you. He wanted to talk to you, get to know you, find out what makes you the person you are. 

And then his friend fucking ruined it. Maybe it was Jae’s own fault for always putting himself in the leader position, for being the kind of person who can’t let someone else take charge, because that meant he had people waiting on him.

In hindsight, it was obvious someone would notice his absence from the group and come seek him out, but it still pissed him off. And what pissed him off even more were the words his friend spoke. 

“I knew it! You do like her!”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now what was he supposed to do? His friend’s smug fucking grin was infuriating. Who was he to look at Jae like that? He couldn’t admit he genuinely liked you or say he wanted to get to know you, he had a reputation to maintain.

So, he did the opposite of what he truly wanted to do. He treated you the same way he treated the girls he had flings with, acting like you were some lovesick puppy who couldn’t handle that he didn’t like you the way you liked him. 

You were going to hate him after that, he knew it; and maybe he was stupid for even thinking he could have genuine friendship with someone like you given the kind of guy he was. And why should he want that?

He doesn’t do shit like that, he never has, and the fact that you even managed to get into his head and make him doubt the way he’s lived so far pissed him off. You were just a girl, at the end of the day. 

And so his complicated, unresolved feelings of frustration and hatred were endlessly unleashed upon you, the undeserving outlet for his confusion and stubborn desire to never change his ways for anyone. He’d live his life the way he wanted, regardless of what anyone had to say about it, and like-minded people could come along for the ride as long as they recognized him as the one on top of it all. 

And you, the one he liked for a fleeting moment before it all came down on him; he wouldn’t let you go. Because whether you liked him or hated him, you wouldn’t be able to ignore him. As long as you felt something for him, even if that feeling was hate, fear, or dread, it was a feeling for him, and he’d take anything from you he could, because that was the best he was ever gonna get. 

When he saw you at that party, it felt like fate. God didn’t do favors for men like him, but maybe he could start to believe in shit like that if he kept getting blessed like this. When graduation day came, he was sure he’d never see you again. You were moving to god-knows-where, while he’d stay stuck in this shitty city with his shitty friends, doing the same shit he always does. 

Well, his time with you couldn’t last forever; this was the inevitable conclusion, after all. He’d just crash wherever he felt like it, work when he felt like it, and maybe get a girl on his arm to take your place when he felt like it. But then he saw you, at this random ass party he went to by chance, purely cause his friends were going and booze was promised. 

You hadn’t moved all that far, it turned out. You were still within his reach, and he had you now. Oh, and the look you gave him when your eyes met; he knew he missed it but damn, did it light a fire in him. He had you again, he had you, and then Chan fucking ruined it, like he ruins everything he comes in contact with. 

It was okay, he thought. There would be more chances, and Jae could be assured of the fact that no one fucking likes Chan, and you wouldn’t either. Now that he knew you weren’t all too far from where you grew up, he could find you again, and relive his glory days before they ever even faded. But every fucking time he saw you again, Chan was there, ruining it. 

Fuck, it infuriated him. And the way you looked at him? What the fuck was that? The way you smiled at him made him absolutely sick; Jae never knew you could smile like that, and why would he? He never did anything to warrant something like that from you. But if he didn’t get to have it, then why did Chan? Chan didn’t deserve shit, and especially not you. 

You smiled at him like he was the world, stared at him with twinkling eyes and a flushed face, let him wrap his arm around you and hold your hand with the most shy delight Jae had ever seen. And it all went to Chan? All your pretty looks and radiant smiles were for him? No, he couldn’t take that. If there was one thing Jae was going to do, it was going to be making sure he ruined it for Chan, the way that Chan ruined everything for him. 

And finally, his patience was rewarded, because he sees you walking alone in a shopping plaza not all too far away from where you go to school. It’s a popular spot for the local college students, carrying everything they need to get through their daily lives, as well as a few luxuries.

It’s not all that busy at this time of day however; it’s still fairly early on a Friday evening, and if Jae had to guess, that’s precisely why you’re here now, instead of an hour or two later when there will be a rush of students all looking to do some shopping or have a bit of weekend fun. 

He wasn’t here for you, having come instead to look for a hook-up, but he’s not going to ignore a perfectly good opportunity when it’s presented to him. He wastes no time in approaching, smiling as he does, eager to put a plan in motion to bring everything Chan wants crashing down on his fucking head.

You freeze when he calls your name, heart sinking as you register the voice you’re hearing. You know it all too well, never able to forget it. Despite your better judgment screaming at you to just keep walking, you turn in the direction you heard the voice to see Jaehyung standing against one of the plaza’s many support beams.

What was he doing here? You want to believe he didn't come out looking for you purposely, but you wouldn't put it past him; he's certainly capable of it. “Long time no chat, huh? Have you missed me?” he asked with the signature condescending tone you were once so familiar with. 

“What do you want?” You ask sternly, deciding you absolutely will not entertain any of his mocking. “Wow, so hostile already,” Jae fakes a disappointed sigh as he crosses his arms, “That’s pretty brave of you given your guard dog is nowhere in sight.”

You glare at him as you stick your hands in your pockets, wanting to have your phone at the ready in case he tries something with you. “If you touch me you’ll regret it. Chan will know it was you,” you say, trying to sound braver than you feel. You had no doubt that Chan would kick Jae's ass if he did anything to you, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try anyways if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah, you’re right, which is why I’m not gonna do any of that shit. I just wanna talk to you," Jaehyung says, and your brow immediately raises in suspicion. He just wants to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “Talk about what? There’s nothing I want to hear from you,” you counter, and he chuckles, having fully expected a reaction like that. 

“Just hear me out. How well do you know Chan? Like really know him?” he counters back. “..Why?” you ask with a frown. You wanted to say you knew Chan well, but the truth is that there’s still a lot about him you don’t have insight on.

Despite that, you’re sure that anything Jae has to say about him isn’t going to be the truth, and you certainly won’t let anything from Jae’s mouth change how you feel about someone. Especially not Chan. 

“Mm, I see,” Jae responds, seemingly amused at the way you refuse to offer anything up. “How about this then, do you know what he does for a living?” You narrow your eyes at his question. What is he getting at by asking you something like that?

“He works at a convenience store,” you respond flatly, not wanting to give away anything you feel from his pestering. “Oh, does he? Are you sure about that?” he responds with a sarcastic smile that leaves you feeling uneasy. “What are you insinuating?” 

“Do you really think that the money he makes at a convenience store earns him enough money to pay for that big ass house he lives in? All the food they eat, their bills, school expenses, everything? Even with a hell of a lot of overtime and his friends pitching in, that’s a bit unrealistic, don’t you think?” he once again counters your question with one of his own, clearly trying to plant seeds of doubt about Chan within you. “Cmon, you’re smarter than that, why don’t you think about it harder?"

You glare at him again, refusing to listen any further or reach whatever conclusion he is attempting to bring you to. “Whatever you’re trying to say about Chan, I don’t care. Tell it to someone else.” You start to turn to walk away, feeling fed up with his game at this point, but he quickly grabs your arm to stop you. 

“Let go,” you protest as you try to tug your arm away, but he tightens his grip. “Just listen,” he says as he keeps a firm hold on you, “Chan isn’t as good as you think he is.” You scoff at his words. As if someone like him was any better?

You’d take Chan over him any day, no matter what it is you don’t know about him. “You’re going to lecture me on good people? After all you’ve done to me? Whatever Chan may or may not be involved in, I’d take my chances with him rather than spend even another second around you.” 

Jae’s face contorts in anger at your words, and he roughly throws your arm back at you. “Fine, go fuck your piece of shit criminal boyfriend and see where it gets you!” 

…What?

Jae sees the shock and confusion clearly on your face, and his usual smug smile replaces the scowl he held just a moment ago. “What, you didn’t know? He does some real bad shit in his free time, sweetheart. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets arrested one of these days,” he returns to his mocking tone, clearly trying to get even more of a reaction out of you. 

“I don’t believe you,” you respond and he laughs, as if he expected to hear that. “Of course you don’t. But I can prove it to you.” “Prove it how?” you question despite your better judgment. You know you shouldn’t indulge Jae by leaning into whatever he was trying to make you think, but if there was some semblance of truth in his statement.. What would that mean for Chan? For his brothers, and for you?

“Meet up with me later, you’ll see then,” he says plainly and you frown in response. “I trust you even less than I believe you,” you say as you cross your arms and Jae laughs again; you certainly have gotten more of a spine since the last time he saw you. "Like you said, they'd know it was me if something happens to you. I really have nothing to gain from tricking you unless I have a death wish.” 

You narrow your eyes, contemplating the situation before making any definite decision. You supposed what he was saying is true at least; anything he tried would get back to the guys, and they’d make him regret it with no hesitation.

But even so, you were still hesitant to go along with this. You really didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by buying into whatever he was trying to tell you, but now there was a gnawing feeling in the back of your head telling you that if it was true, and Chan is a criminal, you needed to know. 

“..Fine, but don’t expect me to go anywhere private with you,” you finally say, a knot building in your stomach as you commit to seeing what Jae thinks is so terrible about Chan. “Fine with me, princess, just show up where I tell you to and you’ll see everything you need to,” he smirks at you and your stomach churns, both from the smug look on his face and the nauseating nickname.

“I’ll reach out, so don’t chicken out, ‘kay? I expect to see you,” he grins before he turns away, leaving you to resume your evening. As he gets further away, guilt and uncertainty begins to creep up on you. What if this is something you and Chan can never come back from? What if you can never trust each other again? Is it worth potentially losing someone so special to you? You hope beyond words that this isn’t a decision you’ll come to regret.

It takes Jae a week to reach out to you again, doing so on social media cause there was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever give him your phone number. You also didn’t see Chan much that week, the guilt and worry eating away at you every time you looked at him, knowing that at some point, Jae was supposedly going to present you with evidence of Chan being a bad person. You still don’t believe that he is, but you need to put this to rest yourself, and not give room for any doubts about Chan to live in your head. 

The address Jae sends you is indeed a public one, a relatively large park just outside of the city that you imagine is popular with the families that live close to it. At the time you’re going though, there definitely won’t be any families there. You have reservations about meeting up with Jae at night, even if it’s at a public place, but he insists that night is the only time that’ll work because “people don’t do shady shit during the day” apparently. 

Begrudgingly, you go to the park well before the appointed hour, passing the time on a bench until Jae shows up, having your phone at the ready just in case this is all some sort of elaborate plot to get you where he wants you. He grins when he sees you, shooting you a wave that you don’t reciprocate. “Nice to see you,” he says with a smirk as he walks up to you. 

“Can’t say the same about you,” you respond flatly, “let’s just get this over with.” “Gladly,” he responds, motioning for you to stand up. You do, hesitantly, and he walks over to a small hill at the edge of the park, walking up it and expecting you to follow.

“What are we doing?” you ask, cautiously taking steps to reach the top. “Look there,” Jae points across the street, where street lights illuminate a rather empty street, with a small alley just within your line of sight. “Just wait, this won’t take long,” he says, holding his characteristically smug smile as he leans his weight against a tree.

You frown as you turn your attention back to the street, looking around for anything you’re supposed to be noticing but aren’t, but you don’t notice anything in particular of importance. On top of that, your mind is at war with itself, one part scolding you for really following along with this, while the other demands you see it through so you can put any doubts about Chan’s character to rest.

“There we go,” Jae says enthusiastically as two figures appear on the street walking next to each other, one man that you don’t recognize and one that you definitely do- Chan.

“What is this?” you ask, not sure what’s so critically important about watching Chan walk the street with some guy you don’t know. “You’ll see, just don’t take your eyes off him,” Jae responds, pointing forward and urging you to not look away for even a moment. 

The pair step into the alley, and while there’s no light to illuminate them fully when they’re off the main street, you can still see them well enough. They’re talking, you think, calmly at first, but then it becomes more animated, with the stranger becoming increasingly more expressive with his arms and hands.

He’s.. panicked? He takes a step back, trying to put distance between himself and Chan, but then it happens- a punch thrown, by none other than Chan himself. He hits the man hard, and he crumples to the ground instantly, arms coming up to protect his head after he’s hit the floor.

That should be it, you think, but no, it continues, with Chan throwing punch after punch, unrelenting. You can hear the main cry out in pain now, his voice carrying easily to you in the otherwise silent area. You don’t understand- what is Chan doing? You’ve never seen him like this, but surely there’s a reason, right? 

Chan reaches into the man's pockets now, fishing for something, and he finds it soon enough- his wallet. You watch in disbelief as Chan takes the money and shoves it in his own pocket, throwing the wallet back at the man as if it’s worthless now. When he emerges from the alley, it’s even worse- you can see the blood on his knuckles, can see how it drips down to the ground, evidence that there was no mistake in what you saw. 

“Chan!” Jae calls out enthusiastically, rushing down the hill to make his way to him, “Thanks for the show!” Chan looks visibly surprised to see Jae running up to him, but then sighs, rolling his eyes as Jae approaches him.

You move down the hill hesitantly, not sure if Chan has noticed you’re here too, but hoping for some kind of explanation. “Why were you watching?” You can hear Chan question as you start to get to the bottom of the hill. 

“What, can’t a guy watch? It’s entertaining seeing a shitty guy get what's comin’ to him,” Jae answers and Chan scoffs before he holds his hand out to Jae, clearly waiting to be given something. “Ironic coming from you. But whatever, I did what you asked, so just pay me so we can get out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah, good doin’ business with you and shit,” Jae smiles as he reaches into his pocket, putting a large stack of bills into Chan’s hand. Jae looks back at you then, who is still standing across the street at the bottom of the park’s hill, confusion and disbelief threatening to rip your brain apart as it tries to make sense of everything.

“There you go princess, all the proof you need,” he says with a smirk; he accomplished exactly what he was hoping to- anything you had with Chan is ruined. Chan is clearly confused, and follows Jae’s gaze straight to you, who he realizes just witnessed the entire exchange. His face changes in an instant when his eyes meet yours, blood draining from his face and eyes going wide.

Jae says something to him then, but he says it so low that you can’t hear it, and Chan’s gaze remains fixed on you, as if Jae isn’t even there anymore. “Well, I’ll leave you two to sort this out. And don’t worry about the guy in the alley, he’s a good friend of mine so I’ll get him home,” he says in a smug tone, clearly happy with the situation he’s created. 

“Fuck you Jae,” you bite as you shove past him, rushing up to Chan who has begun to hurriedly step away from the scene. You hear Jae laugh behind you, but you ignore it, fixed on your goal. You need to talk to Chan. “Chan, please wait!” you call to him, doing your best to keep up with him despite how much faster he is than you.

You know what happened just now is wrong, that whatever is going on with him is bad, but you need to hear him tell you why he’s doing it, you need to know what’s going through his head. “Chan-” you’re about to plead again but he stops, allowing you to catch up with him.

He slowly turns to you, hesitant to meet your gaze even as you look up at him. Fuck, he felt so stupid. How could he believe you'd never find out about his secret life? How could he believe that one day you'd be with him happily?

He was so incredibly naive, and he hated it, hated how he had tricked himself into believing he could have normalcy and happiness with someone else. Who was he kidding? There was no way he'd ever be allowed to live a life like that. 

“..I need to call Changbin, and then I’ll take you home,” he says lowly as he takes his phone out of his pocket, and you watch as he puts some distance between you, not trying to get away from you but just far enough to have as private of a conversation with Changbin as he can.

“Hey hyung, what’s up?” Changbin’s voice comes through jovially on the other end, but he can tell immediately something is wrong when all he hears is a shaky exhale as Chan tries to find the words. “Hyung, what’s wrong?” A million possibilities race through Changbin’s mind; he knows what Chan does for extra cash, and he knows the dangers that can come from it.

He’s trying not to assume the worst, but fuck, whatever happened must be bad if Chan is choked up on the other end. “I’m gonna be late coming home tonight. I, uh.. I need to take Y/N home. She’s with me,” Chan says and Changbin is quiet for a moment as he processes the information he was given. “I thought you had a job tonight, though. Are you saying..?”

“Yeah, she saw me,” Chan interjects, not even needing to let Changbin finish his question. “Fuck, okay, just.. Take your time, alright? Don’t rush to come home, we’re fine. I’ll let the others know you'll be out a while, just take care of Y/N.”

“Yeah, I will.. Thanks, I’ll see you later,” Chan mutters into the phone before he hangs up, stuffing it back into his pocket and taking another shaky breath before he turns back to you. “Chan-” you start when you see him walking back over to you, but he quickly cuts you off.

“Let’s get you home, I didn’t park my car too far from here,” he says tersely, walking briskly towards the end of the street. You frown, but decide not to dwell on it too much; you can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now, and the last thing you want to do is make the situation even worse than it already is. 

You follow him swiftly, trying not to be concerned about the silence between you. It doesn’t take long for you to see his car, parked in a nearby empty parking lot, the only car in sight. Chan doesn’t drive much, his car basically reserved strictly for work and emergencies, so you’ve only been in it a handful of times.

You wonder now though if this is the reason he only uses it when he has to– do police know his license plate? You don’t know if you’re ready to find out the answer to that question. 

When you reach his car, he unlocks it wordlessly, and you both enter quietly, neither of you uttering a single thing even as he starts the engine and pulls onto the street. You want to try talking to him again but you aren't sure if you should even try yet; he's very clearly upset but if he's not ready to talk about it yet then there's nothing you can do. 

Truthfully, Chan desperately wants to say something, hating the silence he was subjecting you to, but found himself at a loss for words and stuck in his own head. Jae's words before he walked away rang in his mind over and over again. "If you think a good girl like her can fall in love with trash like you, you're pathetic." And it was true, he was pathetic.

It was pathetic to pretend he could have a better life than this. Pathetic to think you would always be with him. Pathetic to think anything about him was worthy of love. What kind of happy life was he hoping for when this is what his life was truly like?

He knew there was no easy way out of this kind of shit once you entered it, but at the time he really had no choice. He tried everything else possible and there was nothing left; and even with how dangerous he knew it could be he was resolved to see it through because when he began he was just a kid in desperate need of cash at any cost.  

He wishes things could be different now. He didn't want you to ever see this side of his life, to see the kinds of things he had to do to afford all of the things a person needs to survive. And while the rational part of Chan's brain was telling him there was no way you'd just walk away or hate him, it was overpowered by the wave of self loathing washing over him. 

Because even if you didn't hate him after this, could you love him? Could you even still look at him the same way you could just last week, when you gave him that bright smile you always did. Would you still want to confide in him? To rely on him? To let him rely on you? He doesn’t know if you realized it, but Chan has come to rely on you a lot. 

Not in the overt ways like asking for help or opening up about his deepest thoughts, which he only did on occasion, but in the normalcy you offered him. In your presence, Chan felt like the life he wanted was attainable, like he could leave all the bad behind him and have something good.

You were always there to distract him from the life he led privately, to give him a sense of peace. He could be comfortable around you, and allow himself to relax. He could be carefree and live in the moment instead of being stressed about what the future held for him. He could forget about all his regrets just from seeing you smiling up at him.

Late at night when insomnia was gripping him, he would look over your messages fondly and wonder what it would be like to share a bed one day. For you to be next to him on his worst nights and help lull him into a peaceful sleep that he wasn't normally rewarded. To kiss you awake and bask in how beautiful you’d be naked with the morning sun glowing around you. 

To Chan, any chance of that future with you was taken away the moment you saw the ugly truth of his life. Even if by some miracle you decided you still wanted to be around him, he knew it wouldn't be the same. There was no way your view of him wouldn't be tainted after this.

You'd become strained, being pulled away from each other little by little until nothing was left of the friendship you once held, or of the feelings he'd hoped to admit to you when he was able to leave behind the things that bound him. He should just leave your life now, before things get even worse; the pain he'd have to endure if he held on now would become unbearable.

You'd distance yourself from him, you'd meet a good guy who actually deserves you and fall in love, you'd forget all about him.. And that's how it should be. You deserved better than him; he knew he had nothing of worth to offer you. 

And he was sure in response you'd bring up how he was there for you and supported you, but anyone could do that. That was the bare minimum of a relationship. What did he have to offer you other than support? There was nothing he could think of that felt good enough or like he was worthy of anyone's time, much less yours.

It was better to get the heartbreak over with now.. it would hurt, but much less so than if he prolonged the process. He needed to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with for both your sakes. He couldn't delay the inevitable.

You felt stiff, the silence deafening as he drove you to your dorm. You couldn't tell what Chan was feeling anymore, his face completely void of anything, as if he turned his emotions off entirely. You didn't know what to do; he cut you off when you tried to speak to him earlier, and now it seemed like anything you said now wouldn't reach him. It was as if he was running on autopilot, like he wasn't truly there with you anymore. 

It didn't take all that long to reach your street given that you were traveling by car, and you felt dread welling in your gut. You wanted to talk to him, to tell him you know he must have his reasons, that you understand that life is cruel and he's probably just doing what he has to, to tell him you understand why he didn't tell you but that you want to hear him out and be there for him regardless. You were approaching your dorm now, and you turned to look at him once again. 

He was so close but felt so far away, his face remaining devoid of emotion. His gaze didn't meet yours, instead he stared straight ahead at the street even after he parked, as if purposely avoiding your eyes. "Chan.." you start again, hoping he'll finally respond to you. You see him swallow and his hands tense up, clutching the steering wheel tighter now. 

His lower lip begins to tremble, but he tells himself he can't give in. This is what is best for you, he's sure of it. Just rip the bandaid off now, it'll be better that way. He can't make your life worse if he steps away now. He can't give himself false hope if he lets you go now. "Chan, I–" "Just go inside," he cuts you off, the pain evident in his voice despite how hard he's trying to mask it. 

"But I–" "Don't. Please don't. Just go." Tears well in your eyes, but you obliged, feeling like now isn't the time to push him on anything. Chan doesn't watch as you exit the car, nor does he acknowledge the way you look back at him one last time before you enter your dorm.

It's better this way. It's better this way. It's better this way. He lowers his head to the steering wheel, resting his forehead against his shaking hands. And for the first time in years, he really cries, knowing that you'll never look at him the same again. 

You woke up the next morning with the hopes that Chan was ready to talk to you. You texted him when you were in bed last night, telling him that you care about him and that you just want to talk to him, but he left you with no response.

You reasoned with yourself that he’d need more time; Jaehyung unveiling Chan’s deepest secret to you must have shaken him far more than you can imagine, and it makes sense that he’d need time to process. 

Chan led an undeniably hard life, you knew that well at this point; he lost his parents young, his adoptive family were terrible to him, and he dropped out and left them behind to try to make it on his own. He never shared any details about the things he had to do as a child to get by, just leaving it at simple statements that offered no further context.

And you weren’t deluded into expecting anything from him; regardless of details he did or didn’t share, you knew he had been through a lot and you weren’t going to ask anything of him that he wasn’t prepared to offer up himself. 

You figured that one day, when Chan had grown comfortable enough and was assured that you were a safe person to share the details of his life with, he’d break down his barriers on his own. All you had to do was be there for him, be consistent with your words and actions, and offer him a safe space to be his authentic self; whatever that self may be. 

And while this wasn’t the outcome you had expected, you hoped that all your efforts up until now had shown him that you were someone he could trust. You weren’t going to judge him, you weren’t going to abandon him, your opinion of him hadn’t changed with the truth. And you told him as much through messages, hoping that when he read them that he’d believe your words.

When he didn’t respond you were saddened, but it had only been a few hours since everything took place so you didn’t fault him. You were sure he just needed time, and you didn’t want to put any further pressure on him when he was clearly upset, so instead you just offered kind words to assure him everything was okay. 

However, as the days passed on, you began to lose hope that he’d ever respond. You did your best to stop the sadness encroaching in your heart, telling yourself that there could be a ton of reasons he isn’t speaking to you right now. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, there was surely a reasonable explanation.

His life didn’t revolve around you after all, and a small break in communication shouldn’t linger over you like this. You continued to comfort yourself with rational explanations as you went about your days, hoping with all your heart that you weren’t just deluding yourself.

Felix, who saw you most days due to your routine of coming into the cafe he worked at, could see the toll it was taking on you to have Chan not talk to you. He didn’t even know what exactly happened; Changbin said the two of you had a tiff, but that it should resolve itself after a bit since the two of you cared so much about each other.

But as time went on, with Chan so distant and holed up in his room unless he was working, he wasn’t so sure that whatever went on between you was something minor. And then when you stopped in one morning, you confirmed what Felix already feared; that Chan’s isolation didn’t extend to just them, but to you as well.

He wasn’t replying to any of your texts, and that made Felix’s concern for the two of you grow tenfold. So he talked about it with the others in the house, and the 3 of them agreed that you should come over to try and make whatever happened right. And besides, all of you were friends, so it only made sense to facilitate a resolution between you. 

They ask you over on a friendly pretense; it’s been a while since you all hung out together, and some fun seemed like it was much needed. You were nervous given the state of your friendship with Chan, but ultimately agreed because you really did miss them as well.

Changbin was the one to answer the door when you arrived at their house, smiling and easing your anxiety by making casual conversation with you. Hyunjin and Felix smiled as well when they saw you, greeting you warmly and offering you hugs before you sat down on the couch. 

Hyunjin sat next to you, while Changbin and Felix sat on the chairs nearby. “Is Chan here?” you asked, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you glanced toward the stairs. “Not yet, but he will be soon! While we wait, we should figure out dinner. Anything you want?” Felix suggests and you smile as you nod, feeling comforted by the fact that you have such good friends. 

Chan walks into the house not much later, freezing up once further inside and seeing you sitting there with his brothers. “Hey hyung, we’re just ordering some food before we have a movie night! You should join us,” Felix smiles, hoping that once Chan sees you all together, he can put aside whatever made him so upset and can go back to how things were before. 

Your heart breaks when you look at him, noticing that his dark circles are worse than before, hurt by the knowledge that he must’ve lost even more sleep than he already does, and it’s all your fault. He avoids your gaze, looking instead at his brothers; he knew this was bound to happen, you became friends with them just as much as him, after all.

And while Changbin knew the real reason behind Chan’s distance from you, the other 2 didn’t, so of course they’d invite you over to the house and try to rebuild the bridge that he’d burnt. But he couldn’t take it; the way all of you stared at him, expecting something from him.

You swallow, trying your best not to cry as you look at him, waiting for him to say something to ease all the sadness and anxiety within you. “..No, thanks,” he mutters, going quickly up the stairs and straight to his room, the sound of his door closing clearly heard once he’s reached it. Dejection settles in your gut, your heart shattering into more pieces than you could possibly count. 

Changbin, who is sitting directly across from you, is the first to see your crestfallen expression, and he tries to offer you words of consolation, but you can barely even hear them. You stare down at your lap, trying to blink away the tears that welled in your eyes. Would he never speak to you again? Did you irreparably damage his trust in you? Why wouldn’t he say anything to you?

He was the first person in your life to ever see what Jae was doing to you and help, and he brought with him the kindest people you had ever known. He supported you through your tears, he protected you from the people who wanted to hurt you most.

He listened to you as you talked about your life's worries, even when it was something silly like not wanting to do the night's homework. Chan became a constant in your life, truly living up to his promise to be there for you during any and everything, both good and bad. And now that same person was pulling away from you for reasons you couldn’t understand. 

The tears begin pouring before you can even try to stop them, falling to your lap and darkening the fabric of your pants where they fall. Hyunjin notices right away, and pulls you into a hug, trying his best to comfort you by assuring you that nothing happening was your fault.

“It is my fault,” you choke out between sobs, burying your face in Hyunjin’s shoulder as sobs escape you. Felix quickly moves in next to you as well, rubbing your back and offering just as much kindness as his brother. 

Changbin’s expression turns into a grimace as he listens to you sniffle and sob, how you blame yourself for everything that was happening despite his brother’s best efforts to calm your aching heart. What the fuck is Chan doing? 

Felix watches him stand, a look of concern painted on his features; nothing good happens when Changbin is angry. “I’ll be back,” he says with irritability clear in his voice, stepping away from the chair and to the stairs. 

He reaches Chan’s bedroom door in a matter of seconds, trying the door knob without hesitation and is pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. Good, so he didn’t have to pound at the door and make him come out then. He opens it swiftly, met with the sight of Chan simply sitting on his bed, doing not much of anything.

Chan frowns as he turns to his now open door, but isn’t all that surprised at this turn of events. He knew one of them would confront him eventually, and Changbin wasn’t one to hold his tongue if something was on his mind. It was only a matter of time before Chan got what he was anticipating.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Changbin questions, wasting no time at getting straight to the point. Chan expected that Changbin wouldn’t waste any time dancing around the subject, but he still wasn’t prepared to unearth the extent of his self loathing.

Was he really going to admit how pathetic he felt out loud? Admit to how much he hated himself? Admit to how he felt unworthy of anyone’s time? The silence only served to spur on Changbin’s annoyance, and he crosses his arms as he steps closer to Chan. “Are you really not going to say anything?” 

Chan looks up at Changbin from his seat, meeting his accusatory gaze. “It’s better this way.” he says and Changbin scoffs in response, clearly finding his answer unsatisfactory. “Oh yeah? Y/N crying her eyes out because you refuse to acknowledge her is better?”

Chan’s heart squeezes in his chest at hearing that you’re crying, but he still knew it was for the best. After the initial pain she’ll move on and forget about me like she should. She shouldn’t want someone like me. She shouldn’t support someone like me. I have nothing. I am nothing. 

“Yeah, it’s better.” Chan manages to force the words out. “What about what you promised her? Are you going to sit around and do nothing if Jae targets her again?” Changbin’s voice raises, not quite a yell but still louder than his previous speaking tone.

“She still has you and the others.” Chan frowns as he answers. It’s not like he was leaving you completely alone and defenseless; his friends were your friends too now, and he knew they wouldn’t let anything happen to you. 

“We’re not the ones she wants,” Changbin nearly shouts, and Chan tenses at this, the statement clearly striking a chord in him. “That’s the whole problem! I shouldn’t be the one she wants!” Chan shouts suddenly as he stands from his bed now, seemingly unable to control the sudden outburst.

He freezes after realizing he just said what he was thinking out loud for Changbin to hear; now he knows how pathetic and cowardly he truly is, and there would be no taking it back. Changbin’s brows furrow in bewilderment as he stares at Chan.

He understood that what Chan did to make money has risks, and he understood why he wouldn’t want you to be a part of that. What he couldn’t understand was why Chan was shutting you out now that you knew about it. Why was he needlessly subjecting you to pain when, in his opinion, you could simply talk it out? 

From Changbin’s perspective, everything would be okay. You clearly didn’t think negatively of him after the reveal, you were still seeking him out and wanting to be near him regardless of what you’d found out about him. And even if you did harbor some ill feeling about it that Changbin couldn’t notice, you were at least trying. 

You weren’t going to let something you cared about go over a single event, unlike Chan, who was acting like a fucking coward right now. He was throwing everything away, and for what? He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“You’re being a fucking idiot,” Changbin scowls. “You just don’t understand,” Chan counters and Changbin scoffs at the statement. “Then make me understand. What am I not getting here? I’d love to know.” Changbin challenged him, words dripping with frustration. 

You don’t understand that she’s too good for trash like me. What is there to love about me? What can I offer her that couldn’t be given by someone else? What kind of life can we live together with the things I've done? She’s smart, ambitious, beautiful..

She can strive for better life and a better person. Someone with high aspirations. Someone who has a better education. Someone who didn’t lead a dangerous life and could put her in danger just by association.  

But instead of saying all that he just averts his gaze, stepping down from Changbin’s challenge without a word. “Fine then, you can have fun with your pity party by yourself, cause I’m not staying to watch it,” Changbin bites as he swiftly turns his back to Chan, preparing to leave his room.

“You may be willing to treat a promise like it’s nothing, but don’t expect the rest of us to be okay with it.” He leaves as soon as he’s finished, slamming Chan’s door behind him as he goes.

Right. This is what he deserves. To have nothing and no one, just like before. Because why should he have anything good after what he’s done? He wanted to be the good person you saw him as, but he just isn’t.

He’s the worst kind of hypocrite, his virtue circumstantial and fleeting. The good things he did for the people he cared about didn’t cancel out all the bad that came before it, forever staining him no matter how many layers he scrubbed. 

He tried to comfort himself by saying he did it because he had to, because he had no other choice and couldn’t afford to live otherwise, but did it matter? Could he say he lived a life his parents would be proud of? No, but you made him want to try.

And he was trying, so, so hard; to leave all that bad shit behind, to be someone worth caring about, to be better. But there are some things that never change, some things that can’t be left behind or escaped from no matter what you do, and he supposes this is just another reminder of that lesson. 

The weeks that followed Chan’s refusal to see you were easily the most painful of your life. You’d never experienced a heartbreak like this before, any pain you thought you felt before paling in comparison to the utter anguish you felt from the loss of Chan in your life.

At least before, when you had become distant and separated from friends, you still had contact; you could message each other freely, you could meet up during school breaks or even weekends if time permitted, you still had your bond despite being in different places. But with Chan, it felt like he burnt every bridge he ever had with you. 

You gave up trying to talk to him all together, letting the amount of messages you’d send in a day fizzle more and more, until they inevitably reached zero. In your daily life, you still had the others, but it didn’t feel the same; you felt like an intruder now, like you were encroaching on their space.

You felt like you would just cause strife by being there, so eventually you stopped accepting invitations to hang out with them. Even when you saw them away from the house, you couldn’t meet their smiles the way you once had, because all it did was deepen the ache in your heart.

You wanted to appreciate it, to thank them for trying to keep your friendship alive, but every time it just served as a reminder that Chan wouldn't be there for you anymore. You also felt at fault for causing a rift between them.

Though you stopped staying around the group pretty soon after Chan made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you, you could tell things weren’t the same between them anymore. Changbin especially always seemed to be upset with him, calling him an idiot or a coward, making his distaste for what happened well known.

Hyunjin would continue to assure you that nothing was your fault, that Chan just had complicated feelings to work through, but despite his words, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling at fault regardless. If Chan had never helped you in the first place that day he saw Jae on you, their friendship wouldn’t be in this state.

If you were a stronger person back then, someone who could handle things by herself, then he wouldn’t have had to step in. And now even Felix makes an effort to comfort you all the time, going as far as to give you an extra cookie and discounting your coffee whenever you’re in his cafe.

They always showed you just how kind they were, compassionate beyond words and so patient (well, maybe except Changbin, who definitely was not patient.) Truly, you admired them, and Chan above all, who they credited for bringing them together and making them who they are in the first place.

But now that same person who you had quickly grown to admire so much was avoiding you on all fronts, leaving you with nothing else to do but move on or wait for him to come to terms with whatever he was struggling with.

And truthfully you didn’t want to move on, but waiting wasn’t becoming any easier. Despite the fact that he was within reach, there was nothing you could do. Every glimpse you caught of him or reminder of his absence from his friends left your heart aching in your chest. 

Before you realize it, your last class of the day has ended, and you sigh as you look down at your nonexistent notes. You found it difficult lately to focus on your work with your mind cycling through all its thoughts about Chan.

You used to find an escape in your school work; even if everything was crashing around you, you could pour your energy into your work, and find some satisfaction with the good grades you got in exchange for your efforts. But now even that was difficult for you, and you sighed as you knew you’d have to play catch up in your spare time if you wanted to maintain your grades. 

It was the first time in your life you’d ever felt so inadequate; even though it was merely a stress induced performance loss, it still tanked the confidence you had in your ability to succeed, which was the last thing you needed to add to your growing list of problems.

Your only saving grace at this point was that Changbin agreed to help you out, and that your professors were gracious enough to let you re-do assignments or get in some extra credit (which they only did because of the good track record you had before your personal life tanked.) 

Truthfully, you felt terrible requesting Changbin’s help to catch back up in your classes, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He thankfully agreed to study away from the house so you wouldn’t risk seeing Chan, and having your heart shatter again after having just managed to start picking up the pieces.

You text him now that your class has ended to make sure the study session is still on, and with his confirmation, you decide it’d be a good idea to head back to your room and prepare to meet up with him. It takes you no more than 15 minutes to get back to the dorms from where your last class was, and you spend a decent amount of time cramming your bag full of all the textbooks and supplementary materials you’ll need for the evening.

The plan was to study together at Sunshine Cafe, where the two of you could sprawl your belongings out on one of the coffee tables towards the back and sit on the comfort of the couch, while Felix would provide you with snacks and drinks to get you through the brain overload you’d certainly begin to feel. 

It’ll still be some time before Changbin meets up with you given that your class schedules don’t entirely align, but it’d still be good to head out and get some self study in until he gets there. And you could really use a change in secenery given that all you've done lately is go to you classes and then straight back to your dorm when they were over.

Once assured you have everything you need tucked in your bag, you sling it over your shoulders, letting your roommates know you might not be home till late before you head out. Walking to the cafe with all the extra weight on your back and shoulders certainly isn’t pleasant, but you’ll just have to deal with it if you want to make sure you do well on your catch-up assignments and upcoming exams.

And all in all, you actually feel pretty good right now; your friendship with Chan and emotional state might be in shambles, but at least you’re trying your best to pick yourself back up, and that’s what matters most, right? 

But all that positivity you feel is drained in an instant, when at the end of the street you’re on, you see Jae standing right in your path, looking at you with a smile once he notices you’re there. You curse, knowing you still have a few blocks to traverse before you reach your destination, and that anything could happen in the time it takes to get there. 

He starts to approach you, smirking as he does- you don’t know what he has planned when he reaches you, but you don’t want to find out. Did he know that Chan stopped being there for you? Does he think that now that Chan is out of your life he can do whatever he wants? Or was it a cruel coincidence that he saw you here, a coincidence that he now plans on taking advantage of? 

You still have the others, but it’s extremely possible that Jae either doesn’t know, doesn’t care, or is willing to risk it now that Chan being out of the picture takes away one of his biggest threats. There’s a slight hope that maybe he just wants to say something, rubbing salt in your wound by saying “I told you so,” and then he’d go on his way, but the look in his eyes tells you otherwise.

He has the same insidious look you saw every day when you were in school together, the twisted delight in his eyes that told you whatever you were in for wouldn’t be pleasant. You quickly turn the other direction, ducking into a side street you’d passed moments prior, hoping that you can either use the side streets to make it to the cafe or make Jae lose sight of you.

If you were lucky, you’d make it there with no problems, and Felix could shelter you in the cafe until Jae left on his own or Changbin showed up and made him leave. You hear Jae’s laugh behind you, and you panic as you notice that he’s catching up to you much quicker than you’d hoped, the weight of your countless textbooks and study materials definitely not doing you any favors. 

Shit- what do you do now? It becomes increasingly apparent that Jae catching up to you is inevitable, and there is nowhere for you to turn to escape him. As quickly as you can, you grab your phone from out of your bag, hoping that Jae doesn’t realize what you’re doing.

You needed to call Chan; you weren’t even sure if he’d uphold the promise he made to you at this point, but what other hope did you have? Chan was the person who said he’d always answer if you called him, and you wanted to believe that. No, you had to believe that. 

Not wasting any further time thinking about it, you send Chan a ping of your location before promptly pressing the call button on his name, haphazardly shoving your phone back in your bag and praying that Jae doesn’t notice as thing when he reaches you. 

Chan frowned as he sat on his couch, once again thinking about you despite his best efforts to get you off his mind. Despite how much he knew it was best to detach himself from you, he still found himself unable to do so easily.

Maybe it was his underlying selfishness that didn’t want to let you go, or that his feelings for you had just grown far too much to be quashed, but he couldn’t help but continue to worry about you every day. He felt stupid being so upset about a decision he made, that he truly felt was the right thing to do, but the right decisions are never the easy ones, or so the saying goes. 

But still, the gnawing feeling continued to eat away at him day after day. ”You’re seeing Y/N today right?” he couldn’t help himself from asking Changbin before he left for the day, and he rolled his eyes, giving Chan an incredulous look.

“So you care all of a sudden, huh? Heard me talking about it with Felix? Yeah, we’re meeting up when my classes are over. But don’t worry,” Changbin says with a mildly sarcastic tone before he continues, “I’ll do a good job of looking after her since you won’t.” 

Chan frowned at Changbin’s tone, but he knows it isn’t entirely undeserved given the circumstances. You’re their friend too after all, and he wouldn’t talk kindly to this either if the roles were reversed and it was someone else doing this to you.

“Binnie-hyung is still giving you a hard time, I see,” Hyunjin said as he stepped in from the kitchen, sitting next to Chan with his breakfast in hand. Chan just sighed in response, closing his eyes and letting his head hit the back of the couch. 

Was he really doing the right thing or was he just deluding himself into thinking so? Even putting aside the fact that he hasn’t loved himself a day in his life, isn't it just objectively true that you should want nothing to do with him? He knows you care about him, but it’s not exactly uncommon for good people to put their love in the wrong places, and Chan is definitely one of those wrong places.

“It’s not too late to make up with Y/N if you want to, you know,” Hyunjin spoke carefully, hoping that at the very least Chan would openly admit and talk about what went so wrong instead of keeping everything so bottled up inside. 

Time passed, and for a moment Hyunjin thought Chan wouldn't say anything at all, before he suddenly spoke up. “I.. don’t know about that. I’m not sure if I even want her to forgive me.”

“Why not?” Hyunjin asked, taken aback by the admission. Chan sighed again, self-doubt and anxiety making their presence obvious as they always did when he was dealing with complicated emotions. Truth be told, there was a lot of lingering doubt about his reaction towards you that Chan was scared to confront. 

Should he stop being so stubborn and talk to you or should he be assured in his decision and maintain his distance? He heard multiple times that he was an idiot for detaching himself in the first place (mostly from Changbin, who was the most outspoken with this thoughts), and though he felt like it was the right decision at the time given all his faults and self-doubt, he couldn’t fight the way he missed being around you every day.

He knew how much it would hurt to separate himself from you, but it’s what felt right at the time given the tirade of self-hatred that told him he had to. He knew the guys didn't agree, and he knew it hurt you just as much as it hurt him, but how was he supposed to explain to everyone how much he hated himself?

How much he loved you but knew he would just hold you back? You deserved better than to fall in love with a criminal for hire with no future ambitions. You deserved better than someone who was just coasting through life until the day no one needed him anymore and left him behind.

Not to mention that the only ones who knew the full extent of what he did in secrecy were Changbin, Minho, and now you. And he would've been okay with anyone else finding out the depths of terrible deeds, anyone of the other people he cared about but you. Just not you, anyone but you.

He used to not think at all about what it would be like to fall in love with someone; he assumed he could just figure it all out when the day came, even if it was years down the line. His mental health was in the gutter and life was hard, but when isn’t it? Aren’t most people unhappy?

Besides, he still had his friends, and that was good enough for him. And he didn’t want it to sound like he was never happy, or always miserable, but it wasn't until he spent more and more time with you that he realized how much he yearned for a deeper connection with someone.

Sure, being with his brothers made him happy, and the time he spent with them was valuable and irreplaceable to him, but what would happen in the future when they had their own lives? He barely sees half of them anymore, and soon the other half will move on too, following their dreams, meeting more and more new people, making new friends and building families.

And what would Chan have at the end of it all? Nothing, he had come to realize. He would have absolutely nothing. 

No goals, no ambitions, and nothing to offer other than the bare minimum. And he knew you well enough now to know you would say that it's enough, but he just couldn't agree; to Chan, it was nowhere near enough for you, enough for anyone.

Becoming your friend opened his eyes to how many mistakes he’d been making, made him confront the reality that feelings and wants you bury deep down will always resurface, and he knew he couldn’t avoid all the things he’d been trying to anymore. 

A lifetime’s worth of sadness, more regrets than he could count on his fingers, and a longing for connection with someone who would love him as he was, faults and all, and help him become better. He had that chance with you, and he blew it.

And then, instead of trying to make it right, he retreated back into the very shell he tried so hard to break out of. Instead of putting out the fire that had grown, he watched it burn, telling himself it was better to let everything become ash than risk the burns he would suffer from trying to salvage what little he had. 

In the end, it’s all excuses. He didn’t want to face the fact that he was scared, or admit how little his self-worth he really has. So he fled the scene, and when he was called out, his arguments rang hollow, because even Chan himself knew how little his words could actually be believed.

It was true that Chan didn’t believe he deserved anything good, but maybe it was okay to let people care about him regardless. Maybe he needed them to, so that he could finally allow himself to be happy. 

And so he talked to Hyunjin; he told him everything, about what he did, how he felt then and how he feels now, and about how much it hurts to be away from you when he’s so fucking obviously in love with you but feels too worthless to be around you. It was a lot of information to take in, but Hyunjin was truly happy he was finally doing something that was long overdue.

Chan had spent so much of his life avoiding his feelings and keeping his thoughts to himself, that Hyunjin expected him to dance around it, but he hadn’t. It was proof of the positive effect you had on him, evidence that Chan needed you even more than you thought you needed him. 

Chan didn’t cry, though he certainly felt like he would at times, and Hyunjin truly was proud of him. Sure, he learned some things about Chan that definitely came as a shock, but he had hope that once Chan was done processing all his complicated feelings and getting himself out of the bad shit he no longer wanted to associate with, the two of you could go back to the friendship you once had. 

He’d left Chan alone after that, citing that he had commissions to work on, though really he just thought it would do Chan some good to have some time to himself. He needed to let his thoughts and feelings settle, and hopefully get another step closer to reconnecting with you.

Chan himself was still on the couch, thinking a lot about what he should do going forward. Why did everything always have to be so complicated? He’s there for a while, cycling between various thoughts related to you and his feelings, when his phone suddenly buzzes from within his pocket.

He pulls it out, immediately being met with a message from you, the first you've sent in weeks. But it’s… your location? You’ve never sent him it before, and the fact that you did so without any other context spreads worry through him.

And before he can even react to receiving the message, a call comes through, caller ID clearly displaying your name. Out of all the time you'd known him, this was the first time you were actually calling him. He swallows before he answers, nervous as all hell but knowing he shouldn’t hesitate if you need help. 

“Hello..?” Chan answers carefully, unsure if he should speak at full volume until he knows what kind of situation you’re in. His hand immediately clenches around his phone when he hears Jae’s voice clearly taunting you on the other end; it’s muffled, your phone’s speaker clearly blocked by something, but the voice Chan hears is unmistakable.

He curses under his breath as he moves the phone from his face to mute himself, not wanting to accidentally make Jae aware that you managed to call him. Chan refused to risk Jae finding out and ending the call before he can find out what exactly he’s doing to you. 

"Aww, crying already?" he hears Jae's voice patronizing you. Chan scowls, fully aware that there’s no time to waste. He gets his shoes on as quickly as possible, sprinting out of his front door and rushing down the street in a matter of seconds.

The location you sent him is on a side street not all too far away from the house, and he hopes that Jae hasn’t dragged you too far away from the spot you sent him. The city is huge when you’re in the heart of it after all, and there would be more possibilities than Chan can count as to where you would be if you’re no longer there. 

He runs as fast as his feet can possibly carry him, not wanting to waste even a single second in getting to you, or give Jae the opportunity to do something terrible. He holds the phone to his ear even as he runs, desperate for a sign that you’re doing okay despite whatever situation you’ve been put in.

“Chan taking you away from me really pissed me off. I like you a lot, you know,” Jae’s voice comes through the phone again, and his tone makes Chan grit his teeth. He wants to rain absolute hell on Jae, make him regret ever laying a single hand on you, but he knows he likely won’t get that chance.

Making sure you’re okay and getting you away is his priority, and as much as he wants to obliterate Jae, it will have to wait until after he takes care of you. No matter what Jae deserves, no matter how much he hates him, you are his one and only priority right now, and he will protect you. 

You stare up at the bright blue sky, eyes fixed on the fluffy, passing clouds above you, and you don’t react. You’re limp against the cold, unforgiving wall you’ve been pressed against, completely numb, blocking out everything around you.

You hear Jae’s voice but his words don’t register, his hand on your body but your skin no longer reacts to what it feels. Your vision has blurred from tears in your eyes that haven’t fallen, but you continue to stare upward, making no effort to blink them away. 

You had no words to describe the way you felt; it was a devastation so deep that it turned into nothingness, a void. You knew Chan wasn’t coming to help you and you shouldn’t have hoped for it.

All you did was set yourself up for the worst heartbreak of all, an incomparable feeling of betrayal and hopelessness, the solidification that this was your reality now, and you just had to face it instead of holding onto hope that it would be different. 

But despite it all, you can’t really blame Chan for not being here. You knew you were weak, and you knew you were a target, but that isn’t Chan’s fault or responsibility. It must be a burden to worry about you all the time, or annoying that you don’t stand up for yourself nearly as much as you should.

Your few moments of strength get reduced to nothing in mere seconds, and you always revert back to the scared person you’ve always been. And no matter how foolish it is to hope for, all you can think about is how you wish Chan was here.

You hoped he’d be here, hoped he’d reassure you. You wanted to feel his gentle embrace and hear his voice, knowing he’d console you with tender words and a soothing tone. And most of all, you really just missed him, missed him more than anything, so, so much.

The way he smiled at you, the way his expression changed when he was embarrassed or being teased, the way he cared for everyone and everything more than you’d ever think a person capable of. Though he certainly did bad things, his kindness towards you was radiant.

You didn’t want to define him by what you saw, because you knew him beyond that. You knew how sweet he is, how caring he is, how much he wanted to help others. He understood the value in a helping hand and offered it freely to anyone who needed it without a second thought.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel anything but compassion for him even with how alone you felt from his absence. Your glimpses into his life allowed you to see him for who he was beyond what his appearance would suggest. You knew there was more to him than you even learned, hidden parts of his past, his life, and his feelings that you hadn’t yet uncovered.

So even when he distanced himself from you, you couldn’t hate him. You knew there was a reason, knew there was something underneath that he was scared to share with you. Chan wasn’t the type to leave someone behind nor break a promise, you refused to believe that he was. 

You just wished he was here, wished that he’d share his thoughts and feelings with you. Wouldn’t things turn out differently if he had? You wanted to support him as much as he supported you. You wanted to encourage him and cheer him on.

Even with Jae’s words circling around you and his touch against your skin, your mind was consumed by Chan. At this point you felt you were crying more from his loss than from anything Jae was doing to you. He had just become a catalyst for your feelings to burst, his presence feeling almost nonexistent against the yearning you felt for Chan. 

You loved him. Truly, and above all else. And you knew that no matter what, it wouldn’t change. Chan’s presence in your life irrevocably changed you; he supported you when no one else had, and you loved his personality and his endearing smile.

You loved the contrast between his tough exterior and his sweet characteristics. He was simultaneously strong and gentle, both cold and warm, sunshine and rain wrapped into one person. And you loved him, for all that he was.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" You hear Chan's voice shout and you blink in confusion, allowing the tears that were stuck to fall. Is he really here? Or are you in so much pain that now your brain is tricking you, trying to comfort you with a lie? You don’t know, but you welcome it all the same, because even if it is just a trick, it’s the best one you’ll ever be given. 

Your body barely registers the feeling of Jae's weight being shifted off of you, Chan's voice having a chokehold on your senses. Your gaze shifts from the sky to the right; you see Jae, who has evidently fallen backwards onto the floor, the left side of his face a stark red from what you assume was an impact.

He’s clearly shocked, but the emotion quickly changes into one of pure hatred directed to the presence left of you. You swallow as you shift your gaze to the left, heart squeezing in your chest when you see Chan, more tears welling in your eyes. He's really here? He really came for you?

Chan's fists are clenched, gaze piercing into Jae with disgust and vitriol. He wants to fucking kill him if he's being honest, but he has to do his best to keep a level head for your sake. He has to get you out of here, keep you safe.

"You ever fucking touch her again, I promise you'll regret it," Chan spits at Jae, stepping closer to him and giving one more punch for good measure, assuring he'll stay down and not follow your exit. "Y/N, don't let go," Chan says as he turns to you, taking your hand in his.

The moment still feels surreal to you, but you do as he says, keeping your grip tight as he runs with you, leading you quickly away from Jae. You run for what feels like ages, but you surprisingly don’t feel tired; must be adrenaline coursing through you, or maybe the emotions you feel right now are preventing you from noticing any sort of ache in your legs. 

The next thing you know, you’re at his house, with him leading you up to the safety of his room. You collapse to his bed the minute you’re fully inside, trying to catch your breath after all the running as you still hold tightly to his hand.

“I’m just gonna close the door, okay? I’m not leaving,” he says when he notices the way your hand clings to him when he tries to separate, not wanting to let him go. You hesitate, hand trembling as you hold onto his. Everything still feels unreal, like if you let go he’ll vanish from your sight, and you’ll wake up in the same place you were before, with none of this having happened. 

You look at his face, taking in his soft but serious expression. You feel the warmth in his hand, see the care in his eyes, and you know– you’re okay now. You don't have to be scared anymore. So you eventually nod as you let go, watching as he closes the bedroom door before returning swiftly to your side.

He examines you carefully, scowling at the disheveled state of your clothes but overall relieved to see no injury. He steps away for just a moment to rifle through his drawers, pulling out a shirt and handing it carefully to you. 

“Here, put this on,” he says, and it prompts you to look down at yourself for the first time. The buttons at the top of your blouse are almost entirely undone, with some buttons completely missing and leaving your bra partially exposed.

You frown at the realization that with the buttons missing you won’t be able to button up your blouse again and it’s effectively ruined, but you’re thankful that Chan is offering you something to wear in its place. He turns his back to you to let you change in peace, and he doesn’t turn back around until you’ve made it clear that you’re done.

“Are you okay..?” he asks softly now as he kneels in front you, eyes fixed straight on you. You meet his gaze, lip trembling as you look at him. You feel overwhelmed, confused, relieved.. Where do you even begin? You look down, swallowing the lump in your throat as more emotion threatens to spill out from your eyes. 

"I'm sorry," he breaks the silence, and you look up, blinking away the tears in the corners of your eyes. "I– I should've been there for you. I shouldn't have let that happen to you.. I'm sorry," Chan tells you, voice shaky through his apology.

He feels so fucking guilty. He wished so badly he didn't let the voice in his head affect him, that he didn't self-destruct so badly and drag you down with him. "It's okay," you say, reaching your hand out to grab his, and Chan shakes his head, voice breaking as he talks to you.

"It's not okay, I– I broke my promise to you." "You didn't," you say with a small frown and Chan's brows furrow in response. "Yes I did, I–''

You shake your head, cutting him off with your own words, "Do you remember what you told me when we first became friends? When you put your number in my phone?" 

Chan swallows as he thinks back to nearly a year ago, when he found you cornered and vulnerable, Jae tormenting you and expecting to get away with it. "I.. told you to call me," he says after a short moment.

"Call me next time, I'll answer. If you call, I'll hear it. I'll come running," you quote him, the words having engraved themselves in your memory. They were probably small to Chan but they meant so much to you. You'd never experienced such kindness before, such an earnest care for your wellbeing, and from someone that was basically a stranger to you. 

That was your proof that he was a good person; someone who deserved kindness and appreciation just as much as anyone else. He was kind, caring, and selfless even to a fault. And you knew Chan didn't believe he was, didn't think anything he did was special but it was.

You want to repay all the care he's shown you, in any way you can. "That was your promise," you continue and Chan's breath hitches in his throat at your words, "I called and you came, just like you said you would, so.. You don't have to apologize. Not for that."

He curses, turning his face away from yours with a small chuckle of disbelief. "I should be the one comforting you right now," he says and you smile softly as you respond. "No matter what you might think, I'd never hate you. Never. And I forgive you." You squeeze his hand in reassurance, trying to convey the sincerity of your words.

"I.. don't think I deserve that," he whispers, swallowing as he tries to control the shakiness in his voice. You're forgiving him this easily? He hasn't earned that, doesn’t deserve it.. You should be furious with him, you should hate him. So why don't you? "I can't think of anyone who deserves it more than you, Chan," You say and his lip trembles, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to embarrass himself by crying in front of you. 

He’d grown a thick skin in his life, built his walls sturdy and high– or at least he thought he had. But there you always are, tearing his barriers down so easily, prying open the confines of his heart with the simplest of words and actions. And that's the feeling of love and connection he'd been missing in his life, isn't it? The one he’d be yearning for despite all his doubts and concerns? 

All he can think about when he looks at you is how much he hopes you'll always be with him, even if it's just from afar. He wants to protect you, wants to hold you close, wants to laugh with you on good days and support you during the bad.

Even if he never gets the courage to tell you just how much he truly loves you, he'd be happy just being near you. And that’s why he owes it to you to be better, reaffirms his desire, his need, to be honest and open about everything.

“I should.. Be honest with you. About why I was avoiding you,” Chan says after a shaky exhale, and you nod, ready to hear him out. “I was.. Ashamed, when you saw me like that. I never wanted you to see it, you know? I was– I still am, trying to get out of it, and I hoped that when you did know about it, it’d be like.. A thing that happened in my past that you’d never have to worry about. So when you saw it, I just.. I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do, and so I just..” 

Oh no. He’s tearing up again, and the empathetic look in your eyes continues to chip at his walls. He almost can't take the way you look at him, the way you hold and squeeze his hand as he speaks, the way your eyes water with his, as if it’s just as emotional for you to experience as it is for him.

It probably is, to be fair; you cared a lot about him, cried a lot because of him, tried countless times to support him even when he was closed off, hesitant and scared to try. He’s still struggling to believe he deserves to receive your compassion and understanding, but he wants to accept it regardless.

He wants to let you care about him, to let you console him, to let you be his comfort, his home. And he’d be that for you, he’d give you back all you gave and more, all to make sure you would never cry because of his actions ever again. 

“I just-” Chan tries again, falling short as the words get stuck in his throat. You’re patient though, giving him all the time he needs to collect his thoughts and put the words he wants to say together. “I just.. Everything felt like it was caving in on me."

"When it started I was just a kid desperate for money, you know? No one wants to pay a livable wage to a 16 year old, they think you don’t need it, assume you still got your parents and a cushy bed to go home to. So when the offer came up for me to make some quick, good cash in exchange for a favor, I took it.”

“The favors.. What I’d do depended entirely on the person making the request, but they were never good. Usually it was something the person desperately wanted, but couldn't get their own hands dirty to get, and they look for someone to do it for them under the table. So I got mine dirty in their place, and got paid well doing it. And I truly fucking regret it,” Chan spills it all out for you- the woes of his life, his bad deeds and regrets, all for you to see and judge. 

But you don’t judge him; you never would, even if he deserved it. What he said is what you expected– that he wasn’t given a real choice, his circumstances unfair and the world before him too cruel. It hurt your heart to know someone as kind and caring as Chan was forced to do things he hated for money, things that plagued his mind with guilt and tanked his already low self-esteem to new depths.

This wasn’t a case of “ashamed only because he got caught”; his shame and guilt was true, the resentment he felt for himself complexly interwoven with his human nature to survive at all costs. It was a dilemma that no one should have to face, but that he was forced to time and time again. To say it was unfair felt like an understatement, but it was all you had to describe what life had offered him. 

And still, you admired him; you hear all the time how the circumstances of one’s life changes them, how good people can only tolerate so much pain before it warps them into someone unrecognizable. But through it all, he was still someone full of compassion, of tenderness, who was doing his best to make amends with himself and make up for what he’s done.

It wasn’t your place to tell anyone to forgive him, nor would you tell anyone affected by his actions that they should. But you hoped that one day Chan could be free of the shackles of that weighed him down, both physically and mentally. 

The world doesn’t exist in black and white; good people do bad things, make mistakes, and hurt others, often even without meaning to. What truly makes a person good isn’t whether or not they’ve never hurt someone before– it’s whether or not they’re truly sorry.

No one can exist without making mistakes, without hurting feelings and having theirs hurt in return, the human experience is far too complex and not meant to be perfected. No one is perfect, but imperfection is what allows you to grow. 

The things in your life that you regret, that make you feel embarrassed, ashamed, sorry– they make you human. They make you someone worth loving, someone deserving of compassion and empathy.

To be human is to love and forgive, to make mistakes and pick yourself back up and try again to be better, to connect with others and build a life with them that makes you happy and proud to be where you are. And it’s what Chan deserves to have a chance at, just as much as anyone else in the world does. 

“You can cry if you need to. I’m here for you, Channie,” you offer, holding your arms out for him to accept a hug if he wants one. It’s a promise, really. A promise that you’ll always be here for him, because he’s the person you love most.

“I might take you up on that,” he says as he accepts your hug, his tone the most light-hearted you’ve heard all evening, but you can tell he’s grateful. He squeezes you close, and you can feel his body start to release all its built up stress as he relaxes against you. 

He needed this; needed the reassurance that unconditional love is available to him and obtainable, that happiness was something he was allowed to have, that he wasn’t an irredeemable person doomed to endlessly suffer.

“There’s something else I should tell you,” he says after a few moments, voice soft and a bit timid, his arms still holding you firmly. You hum in acknowledgment, pulling back from his embrace just enough to look at him. “Whenever you’re ready,” you encourage him, and he smiles just a bit before taking a breath to steady himself. 

“I love you. And I didn’t want to tell you that until everything was behind me, because I thought you wouldn’t return my feelings if you knew about it. If it was just a part of my past, and not something I was actively involved in anymore, then maybe you could, but– I didn’t think you’d ever love me otherwise, so.. That’s the other reason why I freaked out.. I thought I ruined any chance I had at being with you.”

Oh. Did you hear him right? He loves you? He wanted to be with you? Wants to be with you? Romantically?

“You don’t have to return my feelings, I just.. Wanted you to know, because it played a big part in why I acted like I did to you. You didn’t deserve to be ignored just because I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings, you know?” Chan elaborates, your silence making him increasingly nervous.

God, he hopes you respond soon, even if it's a rejection, because the silence is killing him. “You didn’t ruin your chances,” you finally say, a shy smile on your face that instantly fills Chan with relief. He smiles too, and you settle fully back into his embrace, your head against his chest as your arms hold him close.

You hear the thumping of his heart, the evidence that his feelings for you are indeed real- that he loves you. Maybe this happiness is more than Chan deserves, and maybe you’ll change your mind about him someday, but for now.. He’s happy, and that’s all he could ever ask for. 

Chan spent the rest of the evening glued to your side, the two of you only separating from each other if you had to. You canceled your study session with Changbin for the night as well; way too much happened today for you to be able to even remotely focus on school work. He understood completely though, and was more than relieved that you and Chan were talking again. 

You had dinner together, all of you, and you finally started to feel like your fractured relationships could be pieced back together. There were still lingering questions, a litany of things to still discuss together, but now that you knew you could, there was a sense of calm you felt; like no matter what happened going forward, everything would be okay because you had each other, and neither of you would let that change again. 

Even in a group, your eyes would always unconsciously find their way back to Chan, and he’d smile back at you. Not a big, toothy smile, but a small, soft one– a special one just for you. He loved you, and you felt it; and you knew without a doubt that this is where you belonged. In their group, among the kindest people you’d ever met, with Chan by your side.

When night settled in, he did everything possible to ensure you were comfortable, such as offering you another change of clothes if you wanted it, or to take you home if you’d prefer that. But honestly, you wanted to stay with Chan as long as possible, not just because of your desire to stay at his side, but because of how safe being with him always made you feel.

You always felt secure in his presence, like any problem you had just melted away when he was hugging you or holding your hand. And despite the good turn the day had taken, you could definitely still use his comfort. “Wait,” you called to him when he was going to turn to leave, his plan the same as the other times you stayed the night; he’d be on the couch, while you took the comfort of his bed.

“Did I forget something you need?” Chan asked, quickly surveying the bed; you had plenty of pillows, and you weren’t too in need of blankets given that it was approaching summer now, but he wouldn’t put it outside the realm of possibility to forget something you needed. 

“No, it’s not that,” you say, and you can see the gears turning in his head, mild confusion mixed with concern appearing on his features. “What’s wrong then?” he asks carefully, stepping away from the door and back to you.

“I.. want you to stay. Here, with me,” you mutter, shyly looking down at your lap and his face flushes as he tries to blink away the initial shock. “Like.. until you fall asleep, or..?”

“N-No,” you look at him, a bit hesitant to meet his gaze due to your nervousness but doing it anyway, “like.. Sleep with me..?” Fuck. He knows you don’t mean it like that but what the hell, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

“Are you sure? You won’t be uncomfortable?” Another careful step closer, watching you closely for any sign of hesitation, wanting to make 100% sure that you really want him next to you all night. You nod, scooting to make space for him so he knows you mean it.

He swallows before he crawls in next to you, doing his best to settle in comfortably despite the way his body tenses from laying so close to you. What makes it even worse is that instead of laying with your back facing him like he expected, you’re turned towards him, looking straight at him. He’s never been this close to your face before, and he feels like his heart is going to erupt. 

“Don’t need Wolf Chan?” he asks after you’re settled, noting the fact that you don’t have him in your arms as you normally did when you spent the night. “Not when I have you,” you reply, and thank God he turned off the lights before he got into bed with you, because you definitely would’ve seen the blush on his face burn tenfold.

“Chan..” you breathe out, your voice slightly hesitant and tense, and though the room is dark, his eyes have adjusted enough to see you looking at him nervously. “Yeah..?” he asks softly, and carefully you reach out to him, your hand lingering on his arm.

“I want you to promise.. That you’ll keep trying to get away from the people who have you do bad things, and that you won’t do them anymore once you’re out,” you say, eyes still nervous and desperate to find reassurance. That’s exactly what he planned to keep doing anyway, but hearing you say it just reaffirms his choice– he’ll get out of it no matter what, for your sake. 

“I promise. You’ll be the first to know too, I promise,” he affirms, and you finally smile, fully believing in him. “I’ll make a promise too! That once everything is settled, I’ll officially be your girlfriend.” Chan chuckles at your statement, pulling you into a hug as he does.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he tells you, smiling at you fondly as he pulls you in closer. “If it’s okay.. Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, and you nod, heart racing in anticipation.

Your first kiss- soft and sweet, his touch light and gentle, your stomach erupting in butterflies. Again, again, and once more, both smiling when you pull back. You’ve never felt so warm, pure elation in your veins as he holds you close.

“I love you,” you tell him as you settle your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and basking in the joy and comfort you feel. “Love you more,” he says, landing a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Goodnight, Y/N, sweet dreams.” 

Was it okay for Chan to be this happy? Was it okay to have the things he dreamed of? Regardless of the answer, he was thankful. There were few things in this world that Chan allowed himself to crave selfishly, you being the most primary desire of them all.

Did he deserve you? Maybe not now, but he would someday soon– he’d make sure of that. He’d keep his promises, make sure he became someone worth being around for, someone that you could be proud to say is the person you love.

6 months since the day Chan told you he loved you and made you his girlfriend. Well, maybe not officially one might argue, since he still had a myriad of promises to uphold before then, but as far as Chan is concerned, it counts!

And to the credit of his point, you still acted like a couple most of the time, all sweet touches and bashful glances whenever he was near you. Neither of you could help it, really; how do you resist in that scenario? All he ever wanted to do was shower you with affection any chance he got, and why would you deny the opportunity to experience it? 

Chan’s duality also extended towards your romantic relationship, in ways that endlessly endeared and fascinated you. He adapted to the boyfriend role well all things considered, or maybe his kind hearted and compassionate nature made him naturally good at caring for you.

He was extremely open with his love for you, full of soft touches and charming words. That was always in private however; when around his friends he was much less.. Sauve, you could say. He was shy, simply put; his face and ears burning red whenever you kissed him for all to see, bashful giggles leaving his lips whenever you complimented him or told him you loved him so, so much.

You always loved seeing his cute dimples show up whenever he was happy, and knowing you were the person making it happen filled you with more joy than you could express in words. But the biggest display of his duality would always come when he felt the need to protect you– all his shyness would melt away, his desire to keep you safe and close much stronger than anything else.

Whether it was holding your hand as you walked through crowds of people, directing you away from the edge of the sidewalk when you walked together, or kept an arm snuggly around you when belligerent, overconfident men approached you at a party– he was your protector above all else, and he made that clear to everyone. 

He was perfect in every way, at least to you. It’s not to say that he was suddenly without fault, and he certainly wasn’t absolved of all the wrong he’d committed in his past, but his growth and earnest effort didn’t deserve to go unrecognized.

He was the sweetest, kindest person you’d ever known, and every day he showed his resilience and determination to make a better name for himself. That alone made him perfect to you. 

Chan worked hard to get away from what kept him connected to the dark underside of the city, and it didn’t come without its sacrifices, but he did his best to make it work and come out of it all ready to wash his hands clean of the past.

He made substantially less money now, but it was a fair exchange when you consider that the money he made going forward was through honest means. He agreed to share the burden as well, to accept help and not take on so much responsibility all on his own. 

He was used to taking the brunt of everything, shouldering it all for the sake of everyone else around him. He thought that's what made him useful, what made others want to be around him– what use did he have as a person if he wasn’t providing something for them? Chan was a pillar; one who didn’t want to acknowledge that his foundation was inherently broken, and not built on solid enough ground. 

Slowly but surely however, he began to see his worth beyond the material, and stopped seeing his friendships as ones that could easily be stripped away from him by superficial means. It’s not that he thought the people in his life were shallow either, it’s just..

When your self-esteem is so low, and all you’ve ever known is pain and sadness, where the people that were supposed to care for you were either gone or didn’t give a shit, it’s hard to see yourself in the same lens that the people who love you do.

It’s nearly impossible to shake doubt once it has its grip on you, hard to convince yourself people mean it when they say they care when you’ve only ever experienced the opposite. You can’t explain what it’s like to have a brain at war with itself, and he imagines that the only ones who would ever truly understand are the people like him, who have experienced it for themselves and truly know what it means to be lonely. 

But he had come to realize that he wasn’t as alone as he felt; he had countless good people in his life, and all he had to do was open the door and let them in. It wasn’t easy to unlearn all the things Chan had told himself over the years, and there were still many days where he struggled with his self-worth and having compassion for himself, but the people he loved made it worth trying his hardest. 

And you, the person Chan loved most of all, was the catalyst for the change he needed. You pushed him in the right direction, opened his eyes to all the feelings and wants he tried to push away and made him face them head on. He was endlessly grateful to you, and he wanted to show you just how much; which is why now, on your 6 month anniversary (which was actually more like 3, officially speaking), he wanted to do something special. 

But what should he get you? What would be good enough? He knew you’d appreciate the sentiment of his gift more than the price tag of it, but he still felt stuck when considering what would be best for you. He could take you out on a date, but what he really wants is the chance to be alone with you. As much as he loves his brothers, and loves that you’re all friends and get along well, if they interrupt or crash his alone time with you one more time he might burst a blood vessel. 

Theoretically he could do some research and find somewhere for the two of you to be one on one, but his career change didn’t leave him with much of a travel fund (or a gift fund, for that matter.) He could always ask the guys to make themselves vacant for a night, or to just please let him have some alone time with his girlfriend, but God, he could already picture how they’d tease him for asking. Or worse, ask him what his intentions are and make him embarrassed in the process. 

In the end however, Chan swallowed his pride, and asked his brothers kindly but firmly to let him have the house to himself so he could spend his anniversary alone with you. He did get some teasing and embarrassing questions, but overall not as bad as what he anticipated, thankfully.

Did he want to have sex with you? Yes, obviously. Was that the reason he was doing this? Absolutely not. That’s not to say he wouldn’t welcome it if it happened of course, but it was in no way his sole motivation.

He hadn’t done that with you yet, and though he wanted to, he was in no way going to rush you into it. Sure, it drove him a little crazy every time you stayed the night and he had you pressed up against him, but he was a gentleman above all else. He had self control.

What he didn’t know though, is that you were also being driven a little crazy by him. The first time he called you “baby”, your stomach did full on somersaults, and if he called you that before he kissed you? Your heart went absolutely crazy!

Then, the first time he removed his shirt to sleep you nearly had a heart attack. He was so toned, and well, you figured he was from how strong he appeared to be, but actually seeing it with your own eyes made your heart race unbelievably fast.

And then, one night when you were lying in his bed together, your back pressed against him as you watched a movie on his laptop, and he leaned forward to kiss you, but the kiss landed on your neck– oh, it was over for you. 

You bit your lip to stop yourself from making an embarrassing sound, face flushing and growing hot. And lately, you came to realize more and more how bad you wanted Chan more intimately. Every time his hand lingered on your waist, every time you felt his body pressed to yours when you hugged, every time you were laying together and he had his arm wrapped around you– you wanted him. 

But how do you go about admitting that? You’d never done this sort of thing before, nor had you been faced with such a strong desire to be intimate with someone before being with Chan.

But now, that it was your 6-more-like-3 month anniversary, you thought maybe now might be the right time to talk about it. It might be difficult to do so without getting shy or embarrassed but you definitely wanted to, and to find out if he ever thought about you in the same way.

Much to Chan’s delight and relief, you didn’t seem at all upset that his plans with you involved having a date at home. His gift to you was a cute, new wolf plush; and while it was certainly was no Wolf Chan, he hoped would comfort you when you weren’t with him. You loved it, instantly hugging him and promising that you’d sleep with Wolf Chan Jr. (as you promptly named it) every night that you weren’t with Chan. 

He put on a movie that you’d once said was a favorite of yours but that he had never seen, and it warmed your heart that he remembered and wanted to watch it with you. He ordered your favorite take out meal, spent the entire evening cuddled close to you and sweetly reminding you how much he loved you.

When night settled in and you began to grow tired, you changed into your pajamas separately before you went to his room. And still, the question was weighing on you– does he want you? Will you be able to tell him that you'd been giving having sex with him a lot of thought?

And then you walked into the room after finishing changing, and saw that he planned on only sleeping in some sweatpants, you internally lost your mind. No way would you be able to sleep if he was next to you looking that good and while your mind was plagued with less than innocent thoughts.

So when the lights were off, and you were laid next to him, you conjured all your bravery to speak your mind. “Chan.. can I ask you something?” He sat up a bit upon hearing you, finding your eyes in the darkness to give you his full attention.

“Of course, what is it?” He asks and you swallow, taking a moment to steady your voice before you come right out with it. “Do you ever.. think about having sex with me?” Holy fuck. That is the last thing he was expecting to hear.

“W-What? I-I– well–” he sputters nervously, his face growing hot within seconds. “I-I just.. I have so.. I thought I’d ask..?” you mutter shyly, hoping you won’t be faced with a mortifying rejection. 

Oh no. That admission makes his brain short circuit for a moment, mind reeling as he processes what you’ve just said. You’ve thought about it? With him? You want to… with him?

“O-Of course I have, I just didn’t know if you wanted to, a-and I didn’t want you to feel pressured if I instigated so..” he trails off, hoping that he didn’t unintentionally make you feel undesired by holding off on touching you more intimately. 

Relief rushes through you, happy to be reminded what a gentleman your boyfriend is and to know that he wants you too. “I-In that case.. do you want to tonight?” you ask, and you feel him suck in a breath before he answers.

“I– y-yeah, I want to,” he says, shy but honest as he seeks out your hand, “as long as you’re sure you’re ready.”

“I’m sure, I really want to,” you tell him, squeezing his hand and offering him a smile. Chan gets up from the bed to turn on some dim mood lighting, because he definitely doesn’t want his first time with you to be in complete darkness– he needs to see you.

You sit up, watching him in nervous excitement before he sits next to you. “I’ll– I’ll take care of you so.. Just let me know if I’m going too fast or you need to stop, okay?” he asks and you assure him that the minute you feel even slightly uncomfortable, you’ll let him know.

He smiles, a shy and cute one, guiding you to turn so both of your bodies are facing each other before he lets you know, “I’m going to kiss you now.” His hand rests just below your ear, fingers on your neck and his thumb tracing circles on your cheek as he leans in to kiss you.

The kiss is slow– much slower than all the others you’ve shared with him until now. It’s sensual, each kiss soft and languid, pulling away for only a second before he connects his lips with yours again. You can feel the butterflies flutter in your stomach as he deepens the kiss, his other hand carefully landing on your waist. 

Your hands sit awkwardly in your lap at first, not quite sure what you should do with them and what’s okay. But to your surprise, the more Chan kisses you, the more you find yourself naturally following his lead, as if this isn’t something entirely new to you. He tilts you back, carefully guiding your back to the bed, his body finding its place between your legs. 

You bring your arms around his neck, urging him to press his body closer to yours and leave no free space between you. You want him as close as possible, to feel his weight on you, to be enveloped by him and feel him all over.

You’re so responsive to his touch that it drives Chan crazy with want; the way your body shivers when he runs his hand down your waist to your hip, the way goosebumps rises on your skin when his fingers linger near your waistband, the way your mouth opens for him when he licks your bottom lip– he loves it all. 

A soft sound escapes your throat when he lets his tongue in your mouth, your arms moving from around his neck to let your hands explore his body, running down his chest and feeling his abs under your fingertips.

Feeling his tongue circle around yours, his breath being shared with you and yours with him, it’s enough to make you dizzy already. You’ve never felt a desire like this before, this overwhelming want to have his hands explore every inch of your skin. 

When he pulls away from the kiss, wow, he’s breathless just from the sight of you. Your lips red and glossy, your eyes hazy with need, your hair having fallen around you like a halo; his angel– you’re forever his angel.

Chan caresses your lip with his thumb, wanting to stare at you for just a moment longer before he diverts his attention elsewhere. He smiles when you kiss his thumb, finding the action cute (and hot if he’s being honest, but he’ll explore that thought later.)

He lowers his head back down to you, giving you one more kiss before he leans towards your neck, kissing just under your ear before trailing hot, open mouthed kisses slowly down the expanse of your jaw and to your neck.

Some of them tickle, making you giggle softly in response, but he knows he’s found the right spot when instead of giggling, you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you tilt your head to the side, allowing him to have more access to your sweet spot. 

You can feel him smile against your skin before he resumes his wet kisses and licks, latching his mouth to the spot that makes you react the most and sucking gently. The noises that leave you are intoxicating and addictive, soft breathy little moans that almost get completely drowned out by the sound his kisses leave on your dampening skin.

His hands travel to the hem of your shirt, and he separates from your neck, looking at you for any sign that you want him to stop before he begins to pull it up. You look shy, maybe a little nervous, but not at all hesitant or scared of his touch. You welcome it, letting him strip you of your top and toss it to the floor.

You’re not wearing a bra, you never do when you go to bed, and while Chan suspected that to be the case, he never asked or commented on it, because admitting that he noticed a difference would also mean admitting that he’d look at your chest. But now, he'll be able to do so freely, to stare at you openly (and hopefully not be too embarrassed about it.)

The way he stares in awe of you makes you blush, and when he calls you beautiful on top of it, you almost want to cover your face from how shy you feel. He can’t compliment you while you’re exposed to him like this, you don’t think your heart can take it. Your reaction makes him smile, but he hopes you know that he means it; Chan isn’t saying you're beautiful just to say it, you truly are– the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both body and soul. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, hands lingering patiently near your breasts, not wanting to touch them until you give him clearly spoken permission. You nod, but he still hesitates until you say it, which you simultaneously appreciate but feel extremely embarrassed from. Chan rewards you with a kiss, another long one meant to ease away the embarrassment and put your focus entirely on enjoying the moment. 

Your breath hitches when he finally touches your breasts, your body quivering when his calloused thumbs brush over your nipples. He lingers on every kiss so sweetly, every touch of your body slow and careful, not just for your comfort but also to commit it to memory, to ensure that he always remembers what his first time with you was like. He kisses down your neck again, and you watch with bated breath as he draws closer to your chest. 

Chan takes his time fondling your breasts as he covers them in kisses, squeezing gently and listening intently to all the sounds he draws from you. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and spending some time softly sucking before giving the other an equal amount of attention.

The more attention he showers your breasts with, the wetter you become, your panties becoming increasingly drenched with your arousal. If he wasn’t between your legs, you’d be pressing them together in a desperate attempt to gain some relief, your pussy aching to be touched but at the same time wanting to let Chan take his time making you feel good.

He doesn’t separate from your chest until he’s satisfied, starting to trail kisses down your stomach, stopping to look up at you once he’s at the waistband of your shorts. “Still okay?” he asks and you nod (perhaps a bit too eagerly), lifting your hips up so he can easily pull your clothes down your legs. 

He hooks his fingers into your shorts and panties, hands slightly trembling as he pulls them down your thighs and then off your legs, discarding them off to the floor with your top. Now that he sees you fully exposed to him, Chan feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest, his cock unceremoniously twitching as he stares at your body.

You can see how hard it’s grown from beneath his sweatpants, and God, you can already tell it’s big. You sit up, this time being the one to initiate a kiss as you tug at Chan’s sweatpants, not so subtly asking him to help you take them off.

It’s his turn to feel shy, face starting to burn to the tips of his ears as he separates from you to remove them more easily. The way you attentively watch him certainly doesn’t help, nor the way you overtly stare at his cock when it’s freed from his clothing. 

You look back to his face, and though he’s feeling shy, he offers you a smile, one that you return just as timidly. Another kiss before you lay back again, your heart racing as you watch him resume his earlier path, placing kisses to the soft expanse of your skin. From your cute tummy down to your thighs, it’s driving you crazy how close his face has gotten to your core without having given it any attention yet. 

He carefully spreads your legs further apart, swallowing when your pussy comes entirely into his view. So cute and dripping wet, all for him, because of him– God, you’re perfect. As he’s done with every inch of your body up to this point, his first course of action is to kiss. Your hips jolt when he kisses your clit, and when he flattens his tongue and licks, oh, you’re in heaven. 

You’ve never felt anything as good as this, your entire body shuddering as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. The slow pace he starts with drives you wild, taking his time familiarizing himself with the way you taste, the motions you like, and indulging in the pretty sound of your whimpers and moans.

Chan picks up the pace when he finds what you like, alternating from pushing his tongue as deep into your hole as it can go and then back to your clit. He uses his hands to keep your legs spread, can feel the way they tremble and twitch as your orgasm grows closer.

Your hands clutch at his bedsheet, desperate mewls growing in volume as the knot in your stomach builds. He directs all of his attention to your clit, keeping his pace steady as he squeezes your thighs in his hands, his eyes closed as he focuses entirely on getting you to cum all over his tongue. 

He can’t help but groan when your hands move to his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging just enough to cause a slight sting. “C-Close, so close-” you warn and he hums, ready and eager to taste your release.

You cum with a choked cry, your entire body trembling as the blinding white pleasure courses through your veins. Your heart pounds, chest heaving as you try to collect your breath, mind hazy from your post-orgasm bliss. 

You don’t even register that Chan has moved from his spot between your legs until he kisses you, tasting yourself on his tongue bringing you back to reality. Seeing you like this not only fills Chan with an insane amount of want, but also with pride, knowing that he’s the reason you’re in this state.

“Baby,” he calls to you, urging you to look at him. His face flushes when you do, cause fuck, you’re so pretty like this, but no use getting shy again now. “I– I want to get you ready to take me, i-is that okay?” Chan hates that he stutters a bit while asking, but he can’t help it when he’s this worked up and you’re laying there looking pretty beyond words.

“Y-Yeah, please,” you practically beg, and fuck, he’s weak for that. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to resist giving you whatever you want if you make begging like that a habit of yours. He carefully moves from between your legs to be next to you, kissing you sweetly as he rubs his fingers between your folds.

You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and leaking, his pre-cum smearing on the skin it touches. “C-Channie–” you call and he immediately comes to stop, looking at you in concern. “What’s wrong, angel? Change your mind?” he asks, brows furrowing in worry. 

You quickly shake your head, trying to dispel any concern before you speak up again, “I want- Can I touch you too?” You can feel his cock twitch from your question, his face flaring and ears burning.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” he says, adjusting his position enough for his cock to be within reach of your hand. He can’t help but shudder and gasp when you bring your fingers to his flushed tip, coating your fingers in pre-cum and spreading it down the length of his shaft. 

Your hand is so much softer than his, so warm, and fingers barely able to wrap fully around due to how thick he is. He can’t help but get lost in watching for a moment, eyes transfixed on the way your hand slowly moves up and down. You look at Chan, watching the way his expression changes as he bites his lip– how does he look so gorgeous and sexy at once? 

Regaining his focus, he prods at your hole with his fingers before he slips the middle one inside. God, you’re so warm and wet and tight, that the thought alone of being inside you is enough to make Chan want to cum. He can’t wait to fuck you, to feel you squeezing him, and to find out what noises you’ll make when his cock is touching the deepest parts of you. 

But first, he needs to prep you well– so he starts by moving his finger in and out slowly and carefully until he’s sure you can take another. You whimper when he adds a second finger, your motions on his cock stopping for just a moment as you adjust to the new sensation you’re feeling. His fingers are much longer and thicker than your own, and it sends ripples of pleasure throughout your body with every move they make. 

You match the pace of your hand with that of his fingers, mirroring the slow movements, but adding pressure by squeezing your hand around him. When he picks up his pace, you do as well, and your stomach flips when he curses under his breath and groans.

You’re mesmerized when his head falls back for a moment, his breathing becoming heavier and his stomach and thighs flexing from the pleasure he feels. But when his fingers curl, your concentration breaks, the spot he touches making you see stars as loud a moan falls from your lips. 

It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, head falling back against the pillows and your eyes rolling back as he prods it over and over again. Your pace on his cock loses its rhythm, trying your best to keep steady through the immense pleasure you feel but failing at the task miserably.

Chan doesn’t mind in the slightest– in fact, he welcomes it, because he doesn’t want to cum before he's had the chance to be inside you. He brings his thumb to your clit, applying pressure as he draws circles over it, and that’s enough to make you entirely crumble. “Oh my god–” you gasp, your hand falling away from his cock as you succumb to what he gives you.

You’re cumming before you can even really process it, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body trembles. He doesn’t stop until he’s sure you’ve come down from the high, carefully sliding his fingers out of you and licking them clean. 

Your eyes are closed, breath shaky as your heart pounds, and you feel so good. Chan carefully pushes the hair stuck on your face with sweat away, and you smile at him when you open your eyes. “Felt good, huh?” he asks with a shy smile of his own, “Do you still want to keep going? Not too tired?”

“Wanna keep going, wanna feel you inside me,” you answer, and you can feel him twitch against your thigh again, evidently excited by your words. He stands from the bed to rifle through his nightstand, pulling a condom from the drawer as you settle comfortably in the middle of the bed.

Chan takes his place between your legs, and you watch as he opens the package and rolls the condom on with no trouble (despite how much his hands are trembling from the anticipation.) He takes his cock in his hand, lining himself up with your entrance and then looking back to your face. 

“You’re still sure?” he asks, and you nod without hesitation. “Mhm, I love you so much Channie, wanna do this with you and only you,” you assure him, and wow, does that make him positively melt.

“Such an angel,” he tells you before he kisses you, happy beyond words, “my angel.” He slides inside with relative ease given how slick you are, the only resistance he meets being from how tight you still are even after having gotten his fingers. 

He watches you the entire time, stopping when he notices you wince, and only resuming his slow push when your body starts to release its tension. Chan kisses you, holds your hand and lets you squeeze as hard you need, not moving a single inch until you’re ready for it. To your surprise, it doesn’t take all that long for you to adjust to the stretch, and soon enough you find yourself eager for stimulation. 

You don’t verbally say it, but Chan can tell you’re ready by the pleasured whimper that pours into your kiss when you feel him twitch inside, and how you unconsciously move your hips to try and seek the friction you crave. He starts slow, for his sake as much as yours, because he’ll cum much sooner than he wishes to otherwise.

He’s still kissing you, swallowing your soft moans and letting you consume his low groans. It takes him a moment to find your spot with just his cock, but he can tell he’s got it when you loudly gasp and clench tightly around him. 

He moves his hands to your hips and then to your legs, holding them in his hands and using them for leverage when he starts to pick up his pace. Your hands are on his face, holding him close as you continue to kiss and muffle each other’s noises that are beginning to grow in volume. You’re glad Chan asked the guys to leave for the night, because with how good it feels you couldn’t possibly keep your voice down, even if you wanted to. 

“Fuck, baby, feel so good, ‘m gonna cum,” Chan tells you between breathy groans and your stomach flips, eager to find out what he looks and sounds like when he’s cumming inside you. He brings two fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles to ensure you cum again too and that he doesn’t leave you wanting. You whine, sensitive from all the attention you’ve received but still feeling way too good to ask him to stop. 

“Cum again for me, please angel, need you to so bad, please-” Oh, that really does it for you. You cum hard, making a mess of his fingers as you do, clutching tightly to his arms as your head falls back. Chan’s high follows close behind, his thrusts turning sloppy as he chases it, his cum spurting into the condom in quick bursts.

The two of you stay like that for a time, breathing heavily as you come down from your highs together. Chan pulls out slowly once he’s caught his breath, quickly removing the condom and tying it off, disposing of it in the trash can at the foot of his bed before he lays down next to you.

You immediately turn towards him, wrapping your arm around him and pulling him into a hug. “We should get cleaned up but.. Wanna cuddle first,” you say and Chan smiles, always finding it so cute when you’re clingy towards him, and even more so now after an intimate moment. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back and kisses the top of your head, watching you fondly as you yawn and snuggle as close to him as you can. “Baby, you’re gonna fall asleep if we stay like this too long. Let’s get you cleaned up before you get too cozy, yeah?” Chan reasons and you pout, knowing he’s right but not wanting to leave the comfortable, blissful place you’re in. He chuckles when you look at him with that pout, so adorable and cute in his eyes. 

“C’mon, won’t take long. And we’ll go straight to bed as soon as we’re done, promise,” he tries again and you reluctantly agree, begrudgingly tearing yourself away from your boyfriend's warm embrace.

Your legs are a bit wobbly, so Chan helps you stabilize yourself, walks you to the bathroom and helps you in the shower. He takes his time to dry you off well and get you dressed in fresh clothes, and helps you back into bed.

You yawn and snuggle into Chan as soon he’s settled next to you, eyes heavy and body beyond exhausted. You’re a little sore, but so happy, and Chan took such good care of you that you feel relaxed despite the aches.

He holds you close, whispering a soft ‘I love you’, smiling when you sleepily mumble it back. He’s so lucky to have you, so blessed to have you here in his arms, loving him in both his good moments and his bad, never giving up on him even when you likely should have. 

You saw how flawed of a person he was and loved him regardless, knew of his mistakes and regrets and supported him anyway, encouraging him every step of the way on his road to change. There were so many times he felt he didn’t deserve the love and compassion he received, so many times he felt worthless and miserable, and you graciously helped him to see that he was a person worth more than he gave himself credit for. 

It was still hard at times to have love and compassion for himself, to extend himself the care he freely offered to others, to believe it’s what he deserved, but he’d never stop trying. Until the day came where he could confidently say he loves himself, that he believes in his heart that he’s not someone worthless, he’ll keep trying.

And you’ll be there, holding his hand, giving him the safe space he needs to cry and to feel, your unconditional love giving him the reassurance and hope he needs to live a life he can be proud of– a life he promises to always share with you.

[applestorms]

thinking about how near refers to light at the end of the series— not really as light yagami, not even really as kira, and not quite as L, but rather an amalgamation of titles: L-KIRA, a twisted mix of two personas, masks on top of masks. no longer a person but a series of letters, a filtered voice through a screen. a man who has built his entire life in the space between lies, who cannot let himself stop for a second without the weight of his own guilt, his sins, crushing him. regrets repressed because this is the only way it could ever be, it has to be worth it, it has to, it has to, because you can’t even bring yourself to consider what it all means otherwise.

i am a firm believer that light yagami, the son, the student, the average human person, dies at the same time that L does. at least at the beginning of the series he has some semblance of normalcy to hold himself to, the Serious Student persona that keeps him walking to and from school and talking to people and eating dinner with his family at home. how many times do we really see him going outside, post-L death? how often do we see him outside of some L-based police HQ, talking to people he isn’t trying to manipulate? really, it’s no wonder he falls so far, alienated as he is from the rest of humanity. when was the last time he breathed long enough to remember what the sky looks like? hugged his mom, laughed with his sister? did he ever visit his father’s grave? does he remember what the breeze smells like? was he ever really happy? did he deny himself his only chance?

at least in the case of L and near the isolation feels intentional, a preferable choice, carefully and logically considered for all the pros and cons. light never asked for the position he fell into, that fell upon him, that he created for himself. he denies the death note being a curse, but it’s not like he could ever admit it if it was.

light’s story arc in death note really feels like a tragedy to me, specifically in the sense that he never really gets the chance to change. on a plot level this is true, much of the second half of the story post-L death is light utilizing the exact same strategies as before (taking away his ownership of the DN to Strategize, romancing a woman he doesn’t care for to use her, fighting a snarky troll of a super genius hiding behind a letter whose real name & face he cannot find), but it’s true on an emotional level too. light never really gets to grow up, he never gets the chance to truly question his ideals or goals without the world he’s built by himself crashing down around him.

i keep thinking back to the significance of matsuda asking him about his dad, how he could drag him to his death for the sake of all of this. light’s response, so truthful in its desperation, really sums it all up: he died for a reason. KIRA has to win, or his dad died for nothing. he cannot face the idea that he caused his own father’s death, so KIRA must be justice. there is no other alternative. KIRA is god, or light yagami killed his own father for a fairytale.

really, it’s so fitting that his name uses the kanji for moon. moonlight— not originating from the moon itself but a reflection, of something brighter, greater, more powerful than he could ever be. light dies the same way as every other criminal he passed his judgement upon, on his knees and desperate, pathetic, begging for life even as he knows he is doomed to the same fate of nothingness that he granted to everybody else. godhood denied. he said it himself, that he could never be anything more than a human, but somewhere in the fog he lost track of the person he once was. and it’s near’s cruelest observation that stands out the most to me in that final scene— that he never really had to be this. he could’ve stopped at any point, felt his guilt, paid his regrets, and moved on with his humanity still intact. light has spent far too long repressing and denying to ever consider that an option anymore— but there was still room for sympathy for the 17 year old kid who killed without thinking, long before he built up such a dedicated palace of lies to justify his actions and hide away his guilt.

L-KIRA dies on the floor of a dirty, abandoned building, surrounded by the people he spent years manipulating and lying to and betraying. light yagami dies in a helicopter, locked and chained to his only closest equal, holding a notebook that he would use to sound the death knell of his own fate and wearing his father’s gifted watch.

[skzstoryvault]

All Out of NyQuil

F!Reader x Hyunjin

Hyunjin is in love, obsessively so. He's also gone a week without seeing his gf, who is down with a cold.

This is in no way meant as a commentary on the real person Hyunjin. The persona he projects for us to enjoy is just so enticing and invites naughty fantasies.

Story includes smut, couple communication, Hyunjin being very doting and caring.

This story is a stand-alone.

The "you" used here is not generic, I'm using it to allow myself some immersion on later re-reads. I know that's selfish but isn't all the writing advice telling us to write what we want to read? If you still find something in here to like, all the better - I hope you enjoy it and have a good time.

Please be kind.

Please do not report this post. If it's not your thing, just scroll away.

If you're underage, please scroll on, there is nothing for you here.

“Where is my tiny, sick baby?” Hyunjin’s voice resonates through the hallway at the entrance of your apartment as he steps out of his shoes and leaves them there. “When Channie-hyung told me you sounded like Vader on the phone, I figured why you’ve been gone the last week! It’s not nice to ghost your own boyfriend, you know?”

You want to answer and call to him, but you’re really sick and down, and the only thing coming out of your mouth is a sad croak. 

You’ve isolated yourself because you feel gross and are in pain, which makes you cranky and unpleasant to be around. Also, you knew that Hyunjin would have a very busy couple of weeks and you chose to get out of the way and not be an additional concern to him. 

“Please, baby? Don’t hide from me, I’ve missed you so much.” Hyunjin whines, coming straight to your bedroom and opening the door, letting a lot of light in.

He looks scrumptious, as usual, if a bit tired, which is normal considering he is coming from a ten-hour workday of dance practice. 

Although you’re still miserable, it’s always nice to see him, especially when he smiles at you with so much love.

“Jinnie, I’m gross! And full of germs. Don’t come any closer.”

“These germs know me already and didn’t want to hop on me. I remember us making out all evening the day before you decided to vanish on me.” He says. “You have no choice but to let me take care of you.”

“You don’t have to… and I don’t want to have you on my conscience, if you do catch this. You can’t miss any of your public appearances right now.” 

“I’ll be fine, and besides, I can absolutely call in sick if I need to. I’m not a slave.” Hyunjin says. “Now let me air? I brought you my mother’s hot healing soup and once I get some of that in you, we’re taking a shower so I can destinkify myself and then we can snuggle in bed. I wanted to bring you some NyQuil but they were all out at every pharmacy I checked so you’ll have to use my tried and tested remedy for a healing night’s sleep.” 

You sit up in bed, feeling all the more terrible in your long t-shirt that you sweated in, especially since Hyunjin is wearing a really flashy outfit, a Versace coat that looks like a boxer’s robe, complete with a hood and embroidered sleeves, a black tank top and high end jeans.

He’s also wearing makeup, lots of it, and of course he looks otherworldly beautiful and alluring like only Hyunjin can be. You feel like a goblin, especially when he comes and sits right next to you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you, first your forehead, then your lips.

“You still have a fever, I can tell.” He says after his lips have touched your burning skin. “The soup will help.”

***

Eating something warm and nutritious did help, and so did showering and freshening up with him. You couldn’t help but cop a few feels while helping him wash allegedly hard to reach places.

When you return to the bedroom, you see he’s aired, tidied up and changed the sheets, and it brings tears to your eyes. Hyunjin is a brat and the ultimate pillow princess in all things. He was not born to do manual labour or chores. He is not domestic, yet he does all these things for you like he even takes pleasure in them - doing your laundry, cooking for you, even ironing some clothes when he notices you need the help with those tasks and others. This is how you know he loves you and he’s genuine - no one does shit they despise the deepest amount for someone they don’t care about. Sometimes you wonder what you did right in another life to deserve Hyunjin’s softest side and his whole heart in this one. 

He soon joins you, wearing one of your old, distressed t-shirts that does a very poor job at covering him. Normally, men in long shirts that don’t cover their dicks are the biggest turn-off, looks-wise, but of course he rocks the look. And you know he likes having his dick out when it’s comfortable and safe to do so, which makes you happy that he feels so at home with you at your place.

His strong dancer thighs look droolworthy, even covered in the many bruises he gets while practising. The thin white fabric of the shirt and the many holes in it somehow make him look even more naked than if he were actually not wearing it.

“Are you all set, baby?” he asks. “Need to pee?”

You shake your head. You’re too dehydrated to pee again any time soon, and you just wish you could get some much needed healing rest first, and then maybe try and replenish the water you’ve lost. 

“Then I’ll help you fall asleep and we can take care of rehydrating you after.” He says, yanking his one piece of clothing off and joining you under the covers.

It’s not the first time you see him naked, but the sight still has you gasping and heating up instantly. Most of the time, you can’t process how you got yourself Hwang Hyunjin as your loving, loyal boyfriend. Everyone warned you he was trouble and bad news, but… here he is, having been nothing but the gentlest and most loving housecat of a man, unlike anyone else you’ve dated before. 

You have no time to further ponder your extreme fortune in all things relationship because he pulls you close and slings a leg over yours, starting to kiss your neck and run the tip of his nose up the skin at the side of it, until his lips can wrap around the tip of your ear and nibble. He moves to your jaw and cheek, peppering kisses there until he reaches your lips. 

“Hyune… are you sure you can afford to get sick?” 

“Fuck all that… I missed you, let me kiss my girl.”

You can never deny him, and you’ve missed him too, he got you so used to his touches and to the way he fills every nook and cranny of you, and of your soul too, making you feel protected and shielded to the world. 

You can only make a sound of crushed resolve replaced with surrender, your hands going to his arms and chest, tracing his biceps and pecs with splayed out fingers, feeling his warm, butter soft skin. 

“Fuck me, I’ve missed you so bad.” You confess. “A week never felt this long.” 

“It was like a lifetime in hell! I missed you, I missed your laughter and your jokes and you calling me princess and baby in front of everyone. I missed cuddling you and pulling you close and dancing only with you in the club.” Hyunjin says. “I thought I fucked up and you were mad, but then I figured you would tell me directly if that was it. And then I tried hard to think if you might think I was upset with you! But nothing came to mind…”

“I’m sorry for running away and hiding, I just felt ashamed and gross.” 

He kisses you long and deep, erasing your mind and stealing your breath for a long moment. His lips on yours feel so soft, so plush, so pillowy, the sensation of them moving against yours taking you directly to your private heaven. 

“I am a boy and I love gross things. And just because you’re sniffly is not enough to keep me away from you. I want to take care of you. Shower and bathe you, cook you yummy food, clean the house for when you feel better, freshen up the sheets, feed you fresh fruit from the market… Please don’t hide from me, I want as much of you as there is, please don’t keep me out. I want to know you. All of you.” 

His little speech brought tears to your eyes and you sob loudly. 

“Jinnie… I’m sorry. I love you too, I was just scared. You’re always so put together and flawless and high end, I figured you don’t want to snuggle up to a coughing, sneezing, snotting girlfriend who hasn’t even had the strength to brush her hair.”

“I’m not always put together, I wake up with creases on my face from the pillow too, and with my hair sticking out. And I get smelly and gross too, but you never seem to mind it. I am the worst drama queen ever when I have even a mild cold. And you still love me. Why won’t you give yourself the same grace?” Hyunjin pouts, resuming his quest of covering every square centimetre of your skin he can get to.

“I’ll do better, Jinnie… Now I know…” You say, feeling yourself soften and become malleable to his every intention. After all, this is what you wanted this entire past week, what you were missing and thought was off limits. His touch and his attention, all on you.

“I need you. Can I? Please? It’s what got me through this week.” He begs, his lips sucking persistently at a spot on your throat that he knows wipes your mind clear instantly. 

You let out a pitiful mewl, too ashamed to admit how much you’ve needed him too. He’ll discover soon enough. 

“Yes… Please. It’s all I thought of too.” You say and sigh. “If you’re not turned off by me now and you don’t mind catching what I have.” 

“I’ll go gently. Not shake you up too much so you can fall asleep right after.” He purrs, shifting so he’s making room for himself between your legs. “You’re so soft, and your skin burns so much…”

You only now realise, as he moves to rearrange your lower bodies so they slot together the way they need to, just how hard he’s been for a good while. Precome smears on your inner thigh as he positions himself to rub against your soft folds, parting them so he can nestle himself properly. 

“So hot and wet, my baby… You missed me for real.” He hums, closing his eyes to enjoy the feeling for a bit, before opening them and focusing on you again. 

“Jinnie, please?” You beg again. All you need, the only thing that will feel good and right now is him finally filling you. 

“Alright, alright baby. I have you.” He says, raising one of your legs up so he can hook the knee over his arm and minimally guiding himself in with the other hand.

Your sigh of relief at finally having him enter you swiftly turns to a moan. He feels so huge and hot, stretching you out to fit around him and it feels so overwhelmingly good, you dissolve into the feeling, letting your here and now become just this, Hyunjin moving inside you with long, deep strokes, igniting pleasure in every corner of your body.

The way he angles himself every time his hips meet yours sends sparks up your spine and makes your toes curl. He’s grasping at you, grabbing with insatiable hands before trailing his fingers down in considerate caresses. At some point he brings his hands up, lacing his fingers with yours, letting the only moving parts of you two be your lower halves.

He’s sweating, as he usually does when he exerts himself, and the heat of it envelops you, his scent permeates all your senses and adds a further, stronger layer of arousal to your joining. His kisses turn hungry and devouring, he steals the breath right from your chest and bites it from your lips, angling himself around like an eel to reach places he needs right now. He coaxes the first orgasm from you with no extra effort, licking over your nipples and sucking on one, then the other as you arch your back into the maddening pleasure from his lips, pushing your head back into the pillow.

“Fuck, that’s my good girl.” He whispers, enthralled with the sight of you falling apart beneath him. “Another.” He proclaims, pulling out and earning himself a displeased sound from you.

You instantly feel bereft and cold without him, but he turns you onto your belly and spreads your legs, kneeling up briefly to watch. Because, of course, it’s him, and he loves seeing what his good work looks like from the outside. Like the mirror in the dance practice room always being there to show mistakes and victories, Hyunjin needs to experience fucking you from two perspectives, once while it’s happening, then a second time, through the results.

He runs gentle fingers over your pussy, squeaking in delight at how hot and sticky you are, right before sinking two long fingers inside you and coating them, taking them out and bringing them to his lips, sucking your essence off of them and closing his eyes.

You stay on your belly, knowing what follows and feeling yourself throb at the thought of more. For now, you look over your shoulder at him.

He’s so immersed in experiencing your closeness with all his senses, it’s still surreal to you. Hyunjin often re-asserts how much he cannot stand most people and how icky he finds closeness. He carries disinfecting gel to use after he shakes hands with strangers or after unwanted touches, but he cannot get enough of you in any way he can get you. 

He holds your buttcheeks open with his big hands, fingers digging into the muscles, as he slides right back into you with a pleased groan. His weight on your back pushes you into the mattress and being crushed like this, while his cock presses on every nerve ending reachable via your walls, is another layer to the pleasure he knows to give you. It brings you close to the next orgasm so quickly and he knows it, varying the force and the depth of his motions. The sensation shifts from that of sensory whipping to lazy waves lapping at a sleepy shore, but even then, you can’t relax too much into it, because he cants your hips forward, kneeling up between your legs and slipping a hand under you. He finds your clit and starts to swipe his thumb over it in that persistent, heavy way that reminds you of trying to spread colour on paper while fingerpainting. How he knew to try this with you, and how quickly he learned to get it just right are further mysteries adding to Hyunjin’s aura. Despite not being that experienced before meeting you, he’s been all ears and taking notes apparently, learning all he could about you, what gets you off and in what ways. 

It’s not long before he has you where he wanted you all along and your entire core clenches, pushing him out as a reflex right before the shuddering release takes over you and you feel yourself squirt all over his front, his dick, the backs of your thighs, the bed.

The stray thought that now you're as dehydrated as you can be crosses your mind, leaving as quickly as it appeared. Hyunjin doesn't seem to take issue with it, watching as your body wrings itself dry.

You look behind you, unable to stop by sheer intention, and see him look at your pussy, cross-eyed and biting his lower lip mercilessly. You also feel his hot release on your ass and pussy, joining your own stickiness.

He allows himself only a few seconds of recovery, lying down near you and panting hard.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. And all mine.” He murmurs, sounding dreamy and completely enamoured. 

He also guides you to lie on your back next to him, away from the wet patch, before reaching for the towel he brought earlier with the intent to use as a sex rag. By the time he starts drying your front, you’re all conked out.  

In the morning, you notice you’re feeling a lot better, the room is flooded with sunlight, it smells fresh and cozy, Hyunjin’s arms are around you and one of his hands is cupping one of your boobs even in his sleep. You did not sweat a river in your sleep like in the previous nights, although both you and your boyfriend are naked under the blankets and he is running warm as usually.

The sheets are crisp and clean, too.

[zombiigrll]

LONELY ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1061 ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ angst to fluff, swearing, depressed/traumatized reader, reader is glenn and maggies adoptive child, intended lowercase, the walking dead 7x1 spoilers, death mentions, lack of eating, suicidal thoughts, use of y/n .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ hi! this is my first time writing and posting anything on tumblr so im sorry if its not the best </3 ive never really done oneshots before either so i dont really know what im doing LMAO hope you still enjoy!

───────────────────────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────────────────────────

it was supposed to be an easy run. get maggie to the hilltop and get her help, that's all it was supposed to be. but, of course, nothing could ever be that easy. not for you. the last thing you expected to see, however, was your father-figure getting his skull beaten in, and almost having to witness your boyfriend getting his arm chopped off. you were distressed. you couldn't function properly. you had already lost your family once before at the beginning of the outbreak, and all of those same feelings came back after losing glenn. he had been there for you since the start, saving you from dying with your family. and now he was gone and there was nothing you could do.

you had fallen into a deep depression, similar to the one you had before. you locked yourself in your room, not eating, not drinking, occasionally getting up to use the restroom, but other than that, you were bedridden. you hadn't even changed your clothes from that night. the clothes that were stained in glenns blood. hell, even his blood remained dried across your face. you felt as lonely as ever, but at the same time, you knew you weren't. because every single day you heard knocks at your door. it was carl.

"y/n, please. just open the door. i can help you." he desperately spoke from the other side of the door.

you felt like shit for making him continue to come to your door everyday just for you to stubbornly remain in your room, but it felt like nothing mattered anyways. eventually, he'd give up, right? that's what you thought. "go away." you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. "just open the door. please." he begged again. he understood your struggles. he was aware of why you were acting this way, and he couldn't blame you. he knew how it felt to lose family members and people close to him. unfortunately enough for him, you stayed where you were, not opening the door for him yet again. but after almost a week had passed, he began getting more worried. he begged at your door for you to open it, he tried opening it himself but you had locked the door, blocking it as well so no one could enter. you didn't care. you were isolating yourself, barely sleeping. the only times you slept were when you cried so hard you fell asleep. you felt miserable. you were giving up on everything, hoping one day it'd all just end and you wouldn't have to worry anymore. you wouldn't have to worry about anyone else dying, because you'd be with them. no more funerals, no more fighting for your life... you laid awake on your bed, tears silently falling from your eyes as you stared blankly at your ceiling, those terrible thoughts swirling through your brain. but this night was different. you had opened your window, which carl took as the perfect opportunity. he was tired of not being able to help you due to your stubbornness, so he decided to crawl through your window. *thump!*

you quickly jolted up at the sound, staring at carl who was slowly sitting back up after not-so-gracefully falling into your room. he grabbed his hat and placed it back on top of his head before looking over at you. you stared at him with tears glazing over your eyes, your face scrunching up as you brought a hand to your mouth. "i..." you were speechless. your emotions got the better of you and you began sobbing. he quickly walked over to you, cupping your face with his hands as he looked down at you sympathetically. "don't cry..." he softly spoke, but his eyes quickly noticed the dried blood that was still on your face. "y/n..." "i-i'm s.. sorry." you sobbed, averting your eyes as you crossed your arms around your waist. he shook his head as he softly acknowledged your beat-up appearance, moving your arms from covering your waist as he pulled you in for a big hug. "don't be sorry."

you quickly returned the hug, squeezing him tightly as you sobbed into his chest. he broke from the hug, looking back down at you and your bloodstained clothes. "let's go get you cleaned up, yeah?"

you silently nodded. he helped you stand up and you almost fell over, but he quickly caught you. "...let's get you something to eat, too." ... the two of your were now in the bathroom. he helped you sit down on the seat of the toilet before grabbing a rag, getting it wet before walking back over to you. "this is gonna be really cold." he smiled warmly, slowly bringing the rag up to your face and wiping the blood off. you flinched slightly at the touch. as he's cleaning your face, his face turns a bit perplexed. "why... why didn't you open the door?"

you avert your eyes to the ground as you begin messing with your hands. "i just wanted to be alone, i don't know." carl looks at you with a bit of a somber gaze before continuing to clean you up. "i'm sorry for breaking in. i was worried about you. just... please, don't do that again. if you ever need help, i'm here. you know that, right?" "i know..." you looked up at him. "i didn't want you to see me like this. i..." you began tearing up again as you spoke. he quickly sets the rag down and puts both his hands on your cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. "i know, i know. it's okay." shortly after, he pulled you in for a quick kiss, his hands remaining on your face as he pulled away. he uses one of his hands to wipe away the stray strands of hair over your face, tucking them behind your ear. "you're so pretty. you know that, right?" he smiled warmly. "i love you." you laughed with a smile, a tear rolling down your cheek. "i love you, too." "let's go get you some new clothes, okay? and some food. i'll make you whatever you want." carl asks, grabbing both your hands. you nod, standing up in sync with him as you followed him back to the room. god, you were so lucky to have him. ─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

[rabbitsrants]

Could you tell me what's your opinion about kogoro,like you always appear like you hate kogoro that's why I wanted to know (whenever you mention him you tell that unbothered fuckin father) wanna know your opinion please answer my ask

fun question!

I LOVE KOGORO

with that being said, i have a very nuanced opinion on him

do i think he's a good detective, husband or father? NO, absolutely not. i don't even think he's a good guardian in regards to conan lol

kogoro can be very self-absorbed, impatient and superficial. his alcoholism and gambling addiction strain every aspect of his life, but kogoro doesn't seem to care enough to change

a few examples:

chapter 1

chapter 370

LIKE??? SHE HAS TO STUDY FOR HER MOCK EXAMS AND KOGORO CAN'T BE BOTHERED TO GIVE A FUCK LOL

initially, i blamed his attitude on his lack of success as a detective. but he shows signs of being irresponsible in his youth as well, despite working for the police:

chapter 572

even after shinichi saves kogoro's career and introduces him to a lot of fame, kogoro shows no willingness to change. he's chronically self-indulgent:

chapter 853

on top of that, the rare times that ran asks him to do something for her, he acts like it's a complete burden:

chapter 528

ran asks him to watch eri's cat while she's in school and kogoro tries to pass the responsibility on to conan

speaking of conan, kogoro repeatedly gets violent with him when he's investigating alongside him

chapter 12

the reason why it appears like i hate him is because my posts are mainly about shinran and interestingly enough, gosho decided to write kogoro as shinichi's polar opposite in a lot of ways. which he even admits in his own writing:

chapter 163

it's evidently a writing choice that gosho decided to go for on purpose. and i think that's fucking brilliant. think about it: ran growing up with an irresponsible, unreliable dad who often prioritizes drinking and gambling over his own daughter? and that same girl falling in love with a guy who's incredibly dependable, attentive, selfless and everything her father is not? IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE

so whenever i analyze certain shinran moments, it becomes glaringly obvious to me that shinichi often acts like an anti-kogoro, so to speak.

examples i already mentioned in my acts of service post: kogoro refusing to help ran - shinichi stepping up as a result in chapter 457 and 716.

additional examples:

chapter 192

kogoro drops off ran at this weird, isolated mansion for a meeting that sonoko arranged with a bunch of strangers online and he feels off about the whole thing and i'm like YES LOVE THAT, SHOWING GREAT PARENTAL INSTINCTS

he even warns one of the guys and i'm like YEAH YOU'RE BEING A GOOD DAD, LETS GO KOGORO

naturally, shinichi feels weird about the situation as well, so he insists on staying with his girl, even though it's already been discussed that he's too sick:

so, despite the fact that a) kogoro feels like something is odd about the meeting, b) he warns the guy to leave ran tf alone... HE STILL LEAVES HER AT THE MANSION UNPROTECTED

and i'm like... WHY????? and gosho immediately answers my question:

LIKE????????????????????? talk about bad parenting lol

anyway, turns out something about the meeting was indeed off and ran is potentially in danger. both shin and kogoro lose their shit:

but there's a key difference between kogoro and shinichi and i feel like gosho wrote this difference on purpose - nothing, and i mean absolutely NOTHING will ever stop shinichi from trying to keep ran safe:

ONE MORE EXAMPLE

chapter 347-349

the case barely even begins and shinichi immediately observes that ran isn't feeling well:

he even tries to convince her to ditch dinner and go back home:

when shit starts hitting the fan and ran is getting incredibly dizzy, kogoro doesn't even notice:

again, maybe i'm reading too much into it, but i think the fact that gosho depicts kogoro's ignorance in this situation is 100% by design and as a result shinichi gets to be the anti-kogoro again:

throughout the whole case shinichi worries about ran and tries to take care of her. which is very impressive considering that ran constantly tries to downplay her symptoms:

examples like this occur way too often for me to write them off as a coincidence. we're clearly dealing with a pattern. how could i not point that out in my analysis? especially when shinichi's unwavering loyalty towards ran is something that she gushes about constantly?

with all that being said, just because i regurarly point out kogoro's flaws as a dad, doesn't mean i hate him. it's just that i aim to reach a full, comprehensive conclusion with every analysis i write and that entails important details like the glaring differences between shinichi and kogoro regarding their treatment of ran.

i still adore kogoro. cause like i said, there's nuance. i feel like there's a lot of hidden depth behind kogoro's character that i wish gosho explored more:

he's smarter than people think

chapter 11

HE'S THE FIRST PERSON TO QUESTION CONAN'S REAL IDENTITY, EVEN BEFORE RAN:

chapter 165

to everyone's suprise, kogoro deducts that eri lost her wedding ring and he goes out of his way to find it for her:

there are more examples of him showing decent detective skills during certain cases but this post is already long enough lol so i'm not getting into that

he can be very idealistic

chapter 86

him holding an old and dear friend accountable for murdering someone:

chapter 376

him doing the same again with a childhood friend:

HE HAS HIS MOMENTS, OKAY?!

chapter 266

I LOVE IT when kogoro shows his vulnerable side, i find it so heartwarming:

chapter 986

OR HIS BADASS SIDE (this is him protecting eri from a guy who's about to sexually assault her)

WHAT A KING

and even though i shit on his parenting a lot he can be very endearing at times! examples:

chapter 207

his reaction to ran dreaming about the one time that shinichi asked her to give him her bra (it was for a case lol)

chapter 254

MY FAVORITE KOGORO MOMENT:

it's a small but incredibly touching gesture and i love him so much for moments like this

chapter 255

HE CAN BE SO SUPPORTIVE AND SWEET

chapter 765

even though i criticized him for his treatment of conan earlier, shinichi and kogoro have their moments as well. the ramen case is one of my favorite moments between them, it's just so wholesome!

this case is giving dad and son-in-law eneregy!

to sum up my very long response: kogoro is an overall shitty person but he can be very smart, idealistic and sweet and i wish gosho explored those aspects of his character more, cause i feel like he gets sidelined a lot. he often uses kogoro for comedic relief which is fair to a certain extent cause kogoro is HILARIOUS and makes me laugh all the time but gosho keeps giving the bigger and more meaningful plotlines to characters that I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT (looking at you amuro) and i think that's a fucking shame cause kogoro has a lot of potential

hope that answers your question! :)

visit the shinran library for more

[imjustasimpxd]

My Angel (Part Three)

➬ Reiner Braun x Fem reader

Part one | Part two | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

Summary : Reiner was always taught that the devils of Paradis were vicious creatures, but what is he supposed to do when he soon finds himself reluctantly falling for one? Or when he is forced to go back to Marley and leave her altogether?

Word count : Almost 4, 300 words

Warnings : nothing really, reader is upset and isolates herself, Jean comforting reader,

Author’s notes : reblogs are appreciated!! I appreciate all feedback on my writing so that I can know what you guys liked and what you think I should improve on😊

Disclaimer : this is a work of fiction and should in no way, shape, or form, be taken seriously.

Side Note : this fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog, is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

***Important Note***

Hello my dears, I’m sorry for going on hiatus HAHA, I was super busy with school and work, plus on top of that I had major personal issues that were just too overwhelming to deal with at the time; and I couldn’t even write at all until I got it solved. I was under a lot of stress and was feeling really down about a lot of things in my life so I stopped writing for a little while. But I’m doing better now and I started writing again! So here’s the long awaited chapter three :))) I’m legit just gonna be turning this into a series so stay tuned for more parts! I appreciate your support and patience! <333

“Y/n?” There was a gentle voice at your door, followed by a few quiet knocks against the wood. “Y/n, can I come in?”

Your head slowly lifted from the fetal position you had succumbed to, your vision still blurry with tears as they glanced across your bedroom to the entryway. Barely anything was visible in the dark expanse of your room, except the silhouette of a shadow under your door; a shadow you quickly recognized as Jean’s.

“Yeah, I guess.” You answered his request, quickly lifting your fingers to wipe away the tears littering your skin.

The door then opened slowly, allowing the light from the outside hallway to seep through; its piercing glow caused your eyes to squint after being in the dark for so long. Although, once you began to adjust to the brightness, you were able to make out Jean’s figure entering your room, along with a tray of food he was holding in his hands.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, a tender smile lining his lips as he walked over to your bedside; one of his hands then reached towards your nightstand to turn on the lamp. “There, that’s better. Did you turn nocturnal or something?” He teased, hoping to cheer you up in some small way.

Although, as his eyes glanced toward you, seeing no alleviation in your downcast expression, he realized it was going to take much more than a simple joke to bring you out of this fog you were enclosed in.

“I uh, I noticed you didn’t come down for dinner again.” Jean sighed and spoke with a gentle tone, awkwardly trying to change the subject. “So here, I brought you something.” He quickly stretched his arms outward to show you the tray of food he was holding, hoping it would improve your mood; even by the smallest amount.

You grinned faintly at his gesture. “Thanks, you can set it on my desk. I’ll eat it later.”

Jean’s eyebrows lowered at your words; that wasn’t the answer he was hoping for.

You said the same exact thing when he visited last night, and as he walked over to your desk to set your meal down like you asked, he realized it was foolish of him to believe you.

Already sitting there was the plate he previously brought you yesterday; the same one you promised you wouldn’t allow to go cold.

The food was uneaten, its texture now dry and spoiled after sitting out all night; even the fork he settled beside your plate was in the same exact spot he positioned it in before he left.

A disappointed sigh escaped Jean’s lips as he set the new meal down on your desk, knowing it would go to waste as well.

It’s a pity, had you not wasted it, Sasha would’ve been more than happy to eat at least half of your serving for you; just like she always did.

She used to demand to sit next to you for every meal, because you were the only one who was kind enough to let her steal your food. It started off as just a few bites of course, nothing too covetous, but, as time went by, she started unintentionally stealing almost half your plate.

She’d always apologize thoroughly for it though; she even began buying you a couple sweets from the local shop afterward to make up for it.

Sooner or later, it became a normal routine for you both. She’d eat her portion, as well as half of yours, then later she’d get you something in return. It was a fair trade, and it brought the two of you closer in the process.

Every meal since then was quite entertaining; not to mention loud. It always started with your thunderous laughter after Sasha, once again, scarfed down her food too fast that she ended up coughing. Following that was Connie’s usual “slow down, the food isn’t going anywhere,” comment that would always spark a brainless argument between the two.

Once their fight got more heated than just trivial little jabs, Jean would always step in and order them to cut it out. And every single time, almost like clockwork, Connie would call Jean his permanent nickname of “horse-face” that immediately had the whole table erupting in laughter; especially Eren.

Every meal it was something, and every single time you were doubling over in a convulsing laughter that you couldn’t breathe from. Between Sasha’s coughing, the silly arguments, and the non-stop jokes: the dinner table was always eventful, and your smile was always present.

But now, things had changed.

Ever since the catastrophe that occurred two weeks ago, you stopped attending dinner; and for once, the table was relatively silent.

With only one plate to tackle, Sasha didn’t eat as frantically as she used to. Because of that, Connie’s comments about her speed weren’t made anymore, and Jean didn’t have to play patrol officer and break up any more fights. There weren’t as many jokes for Eren to laugh at, or a noise problem that Mikasa could complain about.

For the first time, the dinner table was quiet, uncomfortably quiet.

Your seat remained vacant for the past two weeks, as did Reiner and Bertholdt’s; but no one needed to ask why, the reason for that was already blatantly clear.

It pained them all to sit at that table without you, to witness the way you isolated yourself, but they knew better than to confront you about it.

There was no point in discussing it, lest they wanted to rehash their grievances for the hundredth time.

So, Jean resorted to bringing your meals directly to you instead; that way you could still get the food you needed without having to interact with anyone before you were ready.

That in itself became a routine of its own: Jean would come to check on you in the early mornings when you’d skipped breakfast, bringing you something light to start your day with; and then at night he repeated the process.

And every single time he came to check up on you, your face wore the same grief-stricken expression as the day before.

Of course, he didn’t exactly expect you to be bursting with joy after what had happened; it was completely normal for you to be upset about it.

Reiner and Bertholdt were their friends after all; their comrades who they fought alongside for years. It was a stab to the heart to be betrayed by them, but, what’s worse is things didn’t stop there either. After the betrayal was the battle, the same battle that wiped out more than half of the military corps, including their trusted commander.

As if the betrayal itself wasn’t already agonizingly painful, the death toll that followed was more than enough reason to feel as dejected as you were right now. It was the bloodiest mission you’d ever encountered before, and the aftermath was beyond heartbreaking, especially since the enemy still managed to escape in the end.

Jean understood why you were isolating yourself; others did too for a little while. And though he wanted to, the reason he never pushed you about rejoining the land of the living was because he knew you were hurting; and the last thing he wanted to do was make things worse for you.

But as his eyes narrowed in on that plate of wasted food you promised him you’d eat, he realized he might’ve been too lenient on you.

You never ate a whole lot of what he would bring you, but you were still getting something, and that was enough for Jean.

Although now that you’d stopped eating altogether, that was officially his last straw.

“What’s the point in telling me you’ll eat later if you never do?” Jean suddenly spoke up, causing you to flinch slightly at the sudden noise.

His voice sounded stiff; almost as if he was frustrated at you. Your head tilted upward to examine the expression across his face, and sure enough, you realized your assumption was correct. His jaw was clenched together tightly, and his eyes stared you down with an irritated glare.

“Well?!” He asked once again, his tone increasing with annoyance as he awaited your response.

“I’m just not hungry right now.” You answered dismissively, as if he was foolish to even be asking such a thing. “I’ll eat when I wake up.” Your words were followed by a subtle roll of your eyes. Your hands then gripped the blanket lying next to you, petulantly yanking it over your shoulders as you plopped down onto your pillow. “Now, goodnight.”

You knew full well that you were acting a bit childish, especially when Jean was only trying to look out for you. But you were too fed up at this point to apologize for your stubbornness.

Every single time you saw anyone it was always the same “look who decided to join us” comment, or worse: a dozen or so questions that you didn’t feel like answering.

Most of them were the usual “how are you feeling?” or “do you want to talk about it?” However, there were always those irritating ones they just had to ask: the ones about Reiner.

As if you even had the mental strength to think about him in the first place, they were still expecting a full report on what you thought about his actions, or what you’d do now that he’s gone.

Their curiosity always seemed to far outweigh their regard for your feelings on the matter; that’s why you resorted to isolation. It quickly became too overwhelming to deal with the bombardment of questions they were ready to unload on you; so, you stayed away, refusing to give them the chance to do so in the first place.

But now Jean was doing the same thing: invading your barracks and asking those bothersome questions you didn’t feel like answering.

Maybe you were just emotional right now, and perhaps being a little too sensitive. Nevertheless, you just wanted him to leave; you just wanted to be left alone.

“Fine then.” You heard Jean scoff. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you just closed your eyes, nuzzling your face into the blanket as you waited to hear the usual defeated sigh slip past his lips; along with the closing of your bedroom door that would follow soon after.

Just a few more seconds and he’d storm out; surrounding your ears with a jarring echo after he tumultuously slammed that wooden door behind him.

Any second now…

Just one more minute, and then you’d hear it; you were sure of it!

However, the seconds kept creeping by, and there was still no sound to indicate the opening of that door. Rather, an unexpected sound emerged from the silence instead.

You immediately turned around to see what the commotion was about, as well as to find out why he was even still here in the first place.

You didn’t exactly know what you expected to see when you glanced over your shoulder, but watching Jean pull the chair out from under your desk and take a seat was definitely not what you imagined.

“What are you doing??” You groaned in annoyance.

He obviously wasn’t getting the hint that you wanted him to leave, or perhaps he was and just refused to meet your demands.

“Oh? Did you need something?” He asked, as if this was normal, as if you were the one disrupting his peace.

“I thought you were leaving.”

“I never said that.” He leaned back in your chair, extending his legs across the floor; almost like he planned on staying a while.

You stared him down with a glare, but he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, his gaze was fixated out the window, admiring the moon’s captivating glow from the comfort of your dimly lit bedroom.

“Fine, stay then, I don’t care.” You snapped, laying back down with a dramatic huff; continuing your sulking.

Why was he being so difficult? You just weren’t in the mood to be around anyone? Couldn’t he understand that?

Granted, you hadn’t been in the mood to be social for the past two weeks now, but regardless, why couldn’t he just leave you be? That’s all you wanted.

“It’s not going to change anything you know?

“Huh??” You immediately turned back around, quite displeased at him.

If Jean was going to insist on staying, he could at least have the decency to remain silent so that you could sleep. Evidently, he didn’t agree with that notion.

“It’s not going to change anything.” He repeated.

“No, I heard what you said,” you groaned impatiently, not knowing how much more you could take of this. “But what are you talking about?!”

Jean’s voice was quiet but stern, his eyes soon looked over at you with a sympathetic gaze. “Isolating yourself, starving yourself, everything you’ve been doing for the past two weeks.” He paused momentarily, letting out a gentle sigh before speaking once more. “None of it’s going to bring him back, you know?”

Your eyes widened at Jean’s words, your breathing coming to a halt in your lungs. You immediately looked away from him, avoiding his gaze as you stared at the ceiling; trying to hold back those tears you could feel collecting in your eyes.

Jean was right.

None of your sulking or lack of eating would ever be enough to bring Reiner back; No amount of isolation could change the fact that he was gone.

Reiner had chosen to betray and abandon those who trusted him, those who loved him, and that was all there was to it.

He was clearly never coming back, and even if he did, things would never be the same between the two of you again; or anyone else for that matter.

There was nothing left to do except move on and accept the reality of your situation.

But even so, you still couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Despite the things he’d done, you still loved Reiner, and your heart still longed to be with him.

“I know.” You finally spoke up, “but I wish it would.” A gentle sigh jerked past your lips as you quickly turned back around to face the wall again, clearly not wanting to talk about the subject any longer.

Jean eyes lowered at your response, frustrated that you were shutting down once again; just like you’ve been doing for the past two weeks now.

He quickly slumped against the back of your chair with an enervated sigh, feeling like giving up on his efforts to pull you out of this darkness.

Jean had been trying his best to be gentle with you, to make sure you didn’t feel like he was pressuring you. He’d been patient with your stubbornness, he’d been calm and caring, but you didn’t seem to recognize any of that; all you were concerned about was the agony you allowed to cripple you from the inside, and it hurt to be a witness to it.

It hurt to see the way you were torturing yourself, pretending as if you deserved to be put through this pain. It was almost as if you were acting like this was your fault, like you had done something to deserve this.

But that wasn’t true; and Jean could see now that you’d forgotten that.

None of this was your fault, Reiner was the only one to blame here.

It was cruel of him to put you through this; to make you believe you weren’t good enough to make him stay, that you weren’t special enough to be loved by someone.

What kind of monster does that to a person; a person he loves especially?!

Jean couldn’t understand it, it angered him.

Did you truly believe you deserved to be abandoned? Left unloved?

Was Reiner the one who taught you to think that way? Jean’s blood was beginning to boil at just the thought of that.

It was all so frustrating, so heartbreaking. You weren’t the same person anymore, and Reiner was the cause of it.

Ever since his betrayal, Reiner had taken away a piece of you, the same one that used to laugh so loudly at the dinner table, the same one that contained your beautiful smile.

Your true self was withering away because of the crimes carried out by a man who promised to love you; but Jean refused to let it go without putting up a fight.

He wouldn’t stand by and watch the best part of you fall to pieces just because of some idiot who didn’t realize what he had before he threw it away.

You had to be saved from this, reminded that you didn’t need Reiner to be fulfilled, that you were already enough as you were.

You needed to remember all the good things in life that didn’t include Reiner, all the people that still cared deeply for you; people you seemed to forget about within the span of the past two weeks.

If you were ever going to be able to move on, ever going to heal from this: you needed to let Reiner go.

Jean sighed quietly as he stood up from the chair, attempting to try a different approach in hopes to get through to you.

He had tried everything he could think of without breaking any boundaries, but it got him nowhere. This was now officially his last resort, his final chance to rescue you from this darkness before it consumed you fully; leaving no trace left of the person you used to be.

If this didn’t work, then Jean could at least say he tried everything he possibly could; but hopefully, it doesn’t come to that.

Jean inhaled nervously to prepare himself before he slowly made his way over to your bed; placing a tender hand on your shoulder. “Y/n?” Jean spoke in a quiet voice, trying his best not to make you feel overwhelmed or anxious. “Can you please look at me?”

You didn’t move at first, you didn’t want to.

You were fully aware he was just trying to help, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to open up again without breaking down; and that was the last thing you needed right now.

“Y/n please.” Jean’s voice was desperate and pleading, his hand gently rubbing along your shoulder to, hopefully, coax you into giving in.

You let out a gentle sigh, tempted to just unload everything at once now that the offer was standing. It was hurting to keep everything inside like this; bottling it up and hiding it away as if it didn’t matter, as if you didn’t feel like screaming until your throat became dry and sore.

It was becoming too much to bear; the burden was too heavy to carry on your own anymore, and Jean had obviously noticed.

As usual, he could see right through you; penetrating through every wall you built to conceal your true feelings.

Maybe it was easier to stop fighting him, maybe, you really should just give in.

“I just want to know you’re okay.”

Jean’s voice was kind and sympathetic; the gentle caressing of his hand against your shoulder matching that tender tone he was currently using.

He sounded so desperate, so genuinely worried about you; something you couldn’t just ignore no matter how scared you were to open up again.

“Please…”

He pleaded, and by the tone of his voice you could tell this would be the last time; that this was your last chance to accept his offer of confiding in him before he would give up.

Despite your reservations to it, you knew you couldn’t refuse this time, lest you wanted to sign the contract to submit to your grief eternally.

If you were ever going to recover, ever going to restore that old version of yourself that you missed so much, then you’d have to grab ahold of this opportunity before it slipped away forever.

A gentle sigh rumbled in your throat before your body slowly turned to face Jean, watching the way he retracted his hand from your shoulder as you moved.

“I’m not okay.” You shook your head, eyes welling up with tears already. “And I don’t know how to be okay again.” You spoke with a shaken tone, feeling your lip quiver gently as you stared at him.

Barely ten seconds into speaking and you were already struggling to keep it together; feeling your heart clench in your chest at the recollection of all those bottled up thoughts now resurfacing.

Jean’s expression lowered at the sight of you, as if it was hurting him to watch this.

His body gently kneeled in front of your bed, aligning his eyes with yours as he reached to stroke your shoulder once more. “It’s okay, you don’t have to do this alone, no one expects you to.” He said reassuringly, staring at you with a sympathetic and tender gaze.

“I just-“ A sudden sob appeared at the back of your throat, choking the words you were trying to let escape. “I just don’t understand it. Why did he leave me?” You sniffled gently in between sentences. “Why didn’t he care about me?” A quiet sob slipped past your mouth, much to your dislike.

It was pathetic, embarrassing even; the way you were falling apart over this, not even lasting a good minute before turning into a crying mess.

Your eyes diverted away from Jean, cowering behind the blanket you were now burying your face into; hoping to muffle the sound of your sobs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, I just…” Your words came to a halt in your mouth as your emotions quickly took over; preventing you from getting a proper word out. “I’m sorry…” You repeated, clenching your eyes shut in humiliation.

You expected to hear a sigh of annoyance right about now, or perhaps even the shutting of the door. However, your body jolted in surprise when you felt the sudden warmth of a person hugging you gently instead.

Your head quickly lifted from the blanket and your eyes widened to see Jean’s face so close to yours; almost making you blush awkwardly at the proximity.

A comforting smile painted across Jean’s lips when he saw you look up at him. “Sorry if this is weird.” he chuckled nervously and quickly let go of the hug; backing away in case you felt uncomfortable. “You just looked like you needed that.”

Your expression softened as you looked at him, feeling a sense of gratitude filling your heart at the way he was attempting to comfort you; even if it was a little awkward at first. “No, it’s okay.” You quickly shook your head in response, granting him a gentle smile in return; one Jean hadn’t seen in two weeks.

Your body quickly sat up and leaned forward, reaching off the bed to where Jean was kneeling and wrapping your arms around him to continue the hug. “You’re right, I do need this.” You spoke in a soothing tone, letting him know you were okay with what he did a few seconds ago; and that it hadn’t pushed you away.

Jean let out a gentle sigh of relief at your actions, a little flabbergasted at how well you were responding to him. Here he was prepared to face your stubborn and dismissive attitude for the millionth time and yet he was faced with a completely unprecedented outcome.

There were no more spiteful comments or hurtful glares coming his way, just a gentle gaze and a pleasant embrace he never anticipated receiving after the state you were in merely seconds ago.

For the first time in two weeks, it seemed the Y/n he once knew, the Y/n he always secretly harbored feelings for, was finally showing herself again; even if just by the smallest amount.

Jean grinned gently to himself, and his arms quickly wrapped around your back to return the unexpected hug. “We’ve all been worried sick about you, ya know?” Jean spoke softly as he tightened his grip around you, allowing his hand to gently caress your back in the process.

“I know,” You uttered quietly, your voice sounding less unhinged and imbalanced as it was before. “And I’m sorry.”

You sniffled gently, your eyes clenching shut and your arms tightening around Jean’s neck as you leaned against him; wanting to stay in his comforting embrace.

Jean chuckled as he felt the way you clung to him; realizing just how desperate your need for reassurance was. “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.” He said as he leaned the side of his head against yours, continuing the subtle tracing of his fingers along your back. “Just please don’t do that again, okay?”

You nodded quickly, feeling the sting of tears pricking against your eyes once more. “I won’t, I promise, I’m really sorry.” You apologized again in an uneasy tone, feeling shameful of the way you’d been acting for the past two weeks.

This whole time Jean had been here trying to help you, but you’d just been too consumed in your own misery that you failed to notice the damage you were causing; the pain you were putting him, as well as everyone else, through by isolating yourself like this.

You’d been rude, selfish even; too hyper fixated on your own agony that you’d become blind to the impairment you were projecting onto everyone else.

You’d hoped it wasn’t too late to turn things around and make amends with the people you’d been neglecting for the past two weeks; and a part of you started to grow fearful that you’d missed your chance by now.

However, by the way Jean held you close and leaned his head tenderly against yours, it was obvious that wasn’t the case.

Part one | Part two | Masterlist | Blog Home | Aot Masterlist

(I’M LEGIT TURNING THIS INTO A ACTUAL SERIES NOW, OOPSIES) More parts to come soon! :)))

Taglist: @thebadbatch @nervouslad @ah-finally @usagikookiejams @setangel @unwindwithme @milkysuck @realglittereater @cyberdollface @glactict3a @elachapelle1357 @bucky-lents @diavoloslove @be-lla-vie @maaralo @buckysgirl01 @venomfantasies @desiiisstuff @novahaitani @jadasz @viiiik

This fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog, is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

Keep in mind that commenting to tell me what you liked, what you don’t, how I can improve, and any suggestions you have helps me A LOT more than simply liking my posts. If you’ve had the time to read my story, how much longer does it take to leave me some feedback on it? 😊

[zeltqz]

— rindou/fem!reader (9.3k words)

cw—virginity loss, mentions of getting together, implied sexual assault & kidnapping (not from rindou)

a/n— inspired by anon lino. Thx for the request, I switched sum stuff up tho bc it was already long as shit n I didn’t wanna make it like 15 k words 💀‼️

Your father is a force to be reckoned with.

Listed as one of Japan’s top twenty politicians, he’s already made a public figure in the eyes of the press & population.

Some hate him, others love him. You wouldn’t know though, not being let outside of your house for safety reasons. It’s lonely a lot of the time, being stuck in your big house with your siblings all day, tall men in black suits, glasses, and ear pieces watching your every move.

Though you were one of the richest families in the country, you felt trapped in a jail cell. The only difference was your cell was a huge mansion with security locks that changed every few weeks, the code only being told to trusted security.

‘It’s for your own good’ he defends his behaviour, thinking isolating his children at home instead of giving them a life for themselves outside is for your safety.

If you needed education? You were schooled online. The best mentors in the country are paid by your father to tutor you and your siblings. If you wanted to make friends? Don’t be stupid.

What do you need friends for when you’re surrounded by all this luxury?

It was lonely , isolating , and boring .

That was why when your father was at one of his meetings, late at night, you took the opportunity to sneak out, replacing a body double made from extra pillows hidden under your sheets. 

It was thrilling leaving the house alone for what felt like the first time in years. You were allowed outside of course, your father wasn’t cruel, just protective. But with your freedom came at a price, not allowed outside without the presence of a tall man—maybe two if your father felt the need for it— tailing your every move. 

Now though? You were able to walk around the streets late at night without the feeling of someone watching you from behind. You had no clue what to do though, looking around, half the stores were closed, save for that late night 7-Eleven at the end of the road. Bright green, yellow, red lights attract you towards it like a moth to a flame.

The inside is packed full with items ranging from snacks, meals, drinks. You walk around like someone who’s never shopped for themselves before. It’s quite embarrassing, you think, the loathing bitter resentment you have for your father isolating you almost your whole life stirs deep, and green inside your stomach. 

You pick out a small snack bar from the aisle and head towards the counter. You’re not that hungry, you just felt bad for walking in a store, seeing nothing you like, then leaving. It seems rude.

By the time you get to the counter, the woman pops her gum as she tells you the price, looking at you with a strange look you can’t decipher. 

“One sec—” You smile at her.

She ignores it, rolling her eyes. 

It was then you realised you’d forgotten your wallet at home, as well as your phone, the excitement from sneaking out made you lose all common sense apparently. 

“I—I don’t have any money.”

“Huh?” The cashier’s voice was high in pitch, purely shocked. “Rich girl like you has no money? What, did your daddy cut your allowance or what?”

“I—wait.” You blink at her, bewildered. “You know who I am?”

“Duh.” 

“Oh.” You swallow your nerves down, looking bashfully at the ground.

There was a feeling that your father was hated in this town, you don’t really blame the people for thinking so. Even you yourself hate your father. You know nothing about politics because you refuse to listen to your fathers lectures on it. So you can only imagine that the rest of the country, those who are directly affected by his political beliefs, might hate him too. 

A hand claps down on your shoulder, startling you. Looking up, a tall guy, slightly shorter than your bodyguards, stands behind you, holding out the right amount of change in his hand, sliding them across the counter. 

“It’s on me,” he tells the cashier, who nods her head, then jostles you with his shoulder. “Now you owe me a favour.”

There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, the smile on his face screams he’s up to something, but you don’t look into it, only happy someone was kind enough to save you from embarrassing yourself further. 

“What favour?” 

“Come with me.” He doesn’t answer your question, just leads you out of the store. His hand rests on your lower back the entire time, and you feel uneasy, but still push it down, berating yourself for being so cautious, on guard, around a man who was willing to help you out and pay for you. 

“Where—” Your voice cracks from nerves, so you clear your throat and try again. “Where are we going?”

He ignores you. 

When you try to slow your pace, the hand on your back pushes you onwards, practically forcing you to move. It was when he’s leading you to an alleyway, the nerves you forced down come back full force, a thick, heavy lump forming in the confined space of your throat.  

“I don’t think this is—” He pushes you into the alleyway; you land on the floor with a yelp.

“Is that her?” 

A voice, husky, gruff, speaks up, different from the man from before. 

You try to look up, but your vision is blurred, only seeing specs of colour you assume are people. The thick, pungent smell of cigarettes fills your nostrils, then a foot, heavy and dirty, steps on your head, not applying pressure to hurt, just keep you immobilised on the floor.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Nah, I don’t believe it. Pull out a pic or somethin’.”

You want to cough, the cigarettes making it hard to breathe. One of the men crouches down in front of you, pushing the guys foot from your face in favour of tugging you upwards by your hair roots. 

“You know why you’re here, right?” He wriggles your head in his hand like he’s rolling a dice, probably uncaring to the way your scalp feels like it’s burning on fire right now. “I asked you a question.”

“I don’t—ow, sir, man, please stop…it hurts—”

“Sir?” He spares a glance to the guy behind you, then his grin turns wolfish. “I like the sound of that.”

“Don’t do too much with her. We need her stable if we’re gunna show her daddy.”

“How much money you think she’ll be worth?”

“As long as she got all her limbs, no cuts or bruises a decent price, but if we rough her up a lil’ bit, she might be worth a bit more.”

Your body feels weak, tense, mouth dry, ears full of static as you listen to these men talk about you like you’re a slab of meat getting pawned off at a butchers, talking about you like you’re not even here.

If only you’d just stayed home tonight, stayed in the confinement of your bedroom, warm and cosy, smells like perfume and scented candles that your grandma gifts you every Christmas, instead of being here, face messy from the dirty floor, hair roots on fire, nostrils scarred with the burning scent of tobacco. 

The man lets go of your head, and it hits the floor, your head throbs painfully from the hit. 

“You think she’s a virgin?”

“Go check.”

Check? 

Your stomach churns, empty lungs short of breath when the man goes to touch your sweatpants, panic rising in your blood.

“No, please, don’t—ow!” You scream in pain when he pushes your head back down to the ground, some dirt entering your mouth. 

“ Shut up .” 

You’re kicking and screaming at this point, but it’s useless as his hands pull down your sweats. 

Cold air smacks your bare skin and you want to cry, heat burning the edges of your eyes as tears form, but no sound comes out.

“Your daddy is fuckin’ up this country, you know that, princess?” The pet-name is cold, icy, as he grits it out like it’s meant to be pleasant. 

His finger slides against your clothed folds, and your heart is racing, body limp on the floor as he continues his speech. “You probably don’t know that, huh. You rich fuckers only think about yourself.”

“I don’t,” you gasp out, weakly, hot tears stinging at your eyes.

“Don’t what?”

“Agree with him. I hate him too—hate him so much,” you whimper into the ground, wet chunky tears soaking down your face. 

He lets out a hefty sigh, fingers stop touching you down there, and he stands up with a sigh, relighting another cigarette. He takes a puff, a moment to relax himself, and turns to his group. 

“What now?” He’s not talking to you, gesturing over to the other men who’ve been watching the whole ordeal with nothing but a straight face. 

“I dunno.”

“Ain’t this kinda embarrassin’?” 

The men look at the new voice that speaks up from behind them. From what you can spot with your limited vision, he has blue stripes riddled within his blonde hair, adjusting his gold glasses on his face, looking at the group with a disgusted look. 

“Fuck does this have to do with you?” The one with the cigarette breath barks out, eyebrows creased with anger. “Go on somewhere.”

The guy simply ignores them, looking straight at you. You feel your blood run cold when you meet his stare. “You alright?”

“I—”

“Don’t answer him.” The guy next to you slaps his hand over your mouth. “Don’t address her.”

“You guys really have nothin’ else to do at night than harass some innocent girl?” 

You fear for the guy defending you as he steps closer into the alley, the sound of his boots echoing in your ears as he makes his way towards you. You want to tell him to run, go somewhere, don’t get hurt because of you, but he seems awfully confident, and you couldn’t speak if you tried. 

“Innocent? Please, you know who her father is, right?”

He shrugs his shoulders, crossing his arms together. “Na. Who is it?”

“That stupid fat politician scum that’s tryna fuck with our rights.”

He gives him a blank stare, hands shoving themselves into his pockets. “So…what’s that gotta do with her? Go touch up her daddy then. Or what, you scared? Can’t take on a fat man, huh.” 

The implication has the guy seething, nostrils flaring as he rips his hand away from your mouth, dropping your head back onto the floor with a smack. 

There’s another dull throbbing sting in your head doing nothing but amplifying the previous pain, and your wince catches the attention of the guy defending you. 

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you.” The man gets all up in his face, practically drooling like a feral animal without a leash.

“That so? What are you waiting for then?” He smirks as he grabs onto the man’s hands, bunching them into fists and positions them by his own face. 

His confidence, his blank stare, his voice…you can’t help but gawk at him, mind hazy as you watch the scene go down. “Hit me, c’mon. I even put you in position.”

The guy spits onto the ground, wiping his nose before lifting his hand to punch him.

“Dude, back the fuck up.” His friend pulls him away, ignoring the complaints and death threats spewing from his lips. “Rin, he didn't mean to threaten you. We weren’t going to do anythin’ to the girl, I promise.”

“Rin?” He cocks his eyebrow meanly. “Are we friends? I don’t know you, don’t call me that.”

The guy slams his mouth shut so quick and fast, his teeth clamp against each other. ��S-sorry, Rindou. But I mean it—we really weren’t gonna do anythin’ bad to her! We just wanted to scare her daddy into givin’ us some money. That’s all! I promise…”

“Promise? You really expect me to believe that shit?” Rindou stares at the man who shakes his head in fear. He looks down at you, and your blood runs cold once more. “Did they touch you?”

“He—well, he touched me down there.” You look down at your private area. 

The guy guilty of it scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “It was barely even a touch.”

You glare at him from where you’re sitting, feeling a surge of confidence flow through you now that Rindou is here keeping them at bay. “You still touched me, asshole.”

“I’ll fuckin’ do worse if you keep runnin’ that slutty mouth of yours,” he snarls.

Rindou clicks his tongue, unimpressed, lifting you from the floor easily, hoisting you onto his shoulder. 

It’s impressive to you how effortless the action was, butterflies flancing around in your stomach when his arm holds your waist to support you. 

“You guys better pray my brother doesn’t find out about this.”

“Fuck you and your weak ass brother.” 

That guy has some serious anger problems, because even his own friends are gawking at him like he’s a lunatic for spitting those words out. 

Probably some unspoken code in these streets to not insult the ‘brothers’.

Now you’re curious. 

“Yeah?” Rindou only chuckles, says nothing more, pulling out his phone from his back-pocket. You lay on his shoulder as he dials who you assume is his brother. 

The silence in the alley is deafening, you can practically hear the group's hearts beating out of their chest as the line rings. 

“Yo?”

“Bro, guess what?” 

“What?”

Rindou walks over to the dude who thinks he’s all that. “Found this guy that thinks he can beat you up, thinks you’re weak ‘n shit. And actually, he said he could kill you.”

There’s a snort over the line. “What’s his name?”

Rindou nods over at him. “What’s your name?” 

When he refuses to respond, there’s a beat of silence, then Rindou kicks the guy in the knee, sending him dropping to the floor without a beat. 

You’re almost certain you heard a cracking noise, then the guy is screaming in pain. You can’t see due to your position on his shoulder, only looking at his friends who stare at him with a sense of pity, but refuse to speak up themselves. 

Rindou drops to his level, bringing you down with him. “I said, what’s your name?” 

For the sake of it, Rindou digs his hand on his probably—no, definitely broken knee the same way he stepped on your head, applying pressure each second the guy fails to cough up his name.

“It’s Yamajiki Kenzo! Stop—argh, it hurts! Fuck—” He splutters out, desperately trying to push Rindou off. 

Rindou clicks his tongue, standing upright, and brings the phone back to his ear. “Didja get that, Ran?”

Ran says with a yawn, “we can find him tomorrow, no biggie.”

“Actually—ah man, looks like I broke his knee. My bad.” Rindou sends him an unapologetic smile, and the guy looks like he’s three seconds away from jumping at him.

He hangs up the phone, tugging it back inside his pocket, turning to face the group. 

“Anyway, I’m taking the girl now, or—” he jostles you on his shoulder, catching your attention. “Want me to fuck them up for you?”

“Wha—”

“Did they hurt you?”

“I mean, yeah—but—” You look around. Half of them are scared half to death right now, it won’t do you any justice seeing them beat up on the floor. Part of you wants to be the ones to hit them though, get revenge for yourself. “I don’t know.”

“Say what? You want me to let ‘em go?”

“I don’t care…I just wanna go home…”

“How’s this,” he jostles you one more time, “I take you home and tomorrow I’ll fuck ‘em up for you.”

“Home? No, no. You can’t take me home—my dad he—he doesn’t know I’m out right now. I have to—”

“I can sneak you in. It’s no biggie, I’ve done it before.”

“Okay…”

“Great.” He turns to face the group. “Just wait till tomorrow. Oh and you might wanna bandage that up. Gonna look fuckin’ nasty in the morning.” He gestures to the guy on the floor with a broken knee, his face burning with sheer rage, eyes narrow, and sharp. 

“Whatever.”

Rindou puts you back on the ground outside the alleyway, watching you dust yourself off. A hot flush spreads across your cheeks and you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye. 

“Thanks, Rindou. I really appreciate it.”

“‘S no big deal.” His phone vibrates in his pocket so he goes to check it. “Ah, I gotta go. Somethin’ came up.” He folds it shut. “You okay goin’ back home alone?”

“Yeah.”

“‘Kay, stay safe.” 

“Bye…” Your words trail off when he heads the opposite direction. You watch him leave, heart twitching a little in disappointment because you wanted to know more about him. You’re unsure you’ll ever be able to see him again unless you get yourself into more trouble, but then again, he’s not Spiderman, showing up at any signs of danger. 

Today was merely a coincidence.

You wish you’d bought your phone. 

The walk home was rough. Your face and jaw aches like hell, your legs were sore from being pushed onto the ground without a care. Your heart still hasn’t slowed down, could feel it roaring in your ears with every beat. 

You managed to sneak back inside your house without getting caught. Everyone was asleep, minus the family dog, rummaging through the kitchen trash. The security were asleep on their posts, and they’d most definitely be fired if your dad caught them.

You flop back onto your bed with a long, exasperated sigh, staring up at the ceiling, reminiscing over today’s events. You search your pockets quickly, frowning when the snack bar the guy bought you wasn’t there. It probably fell on the floor. 

Well that’s a bummer. 

You find your phone deep inside your drawers, unlock it, and start researching. Crime in Roppongi has gotten so high over the last couple months, mainly due to the fact those in power are money hungry, only caring for themselves, raising the prices for everybody that can’t afford things. Your dad is a part of that group, and no wonder everybody hates his guts so much. 

Everything gets paid for you, which is why you didn’t see this as a big deal at first, thinking money was something that came easy to people. But the sheer rage on those guys’ faces made you realise some have it way harder than others, and greedy folks like your dad and his party are only out there caring for themselves.

Though it was a traumatic experience, you learnt a lot from it. 

It’s no wonder why gang activity in the area has been rising steadily. Stealing food and money to survive, dropping out of schools because they can’t afford it anymore.

You fell asleep with your phone on. Your father enters your room in the morning, a little bit confused you had some dirt on your face. He taps you awake. You stir, but don’t fully wake up yet, too tired and exhausted from yesterday's events.

“What is that…” he questions, shifting your body upright to see your face better.

The side of your face had signs of minimal bruising, obvious dirt on your face, staining your skin mud brown, your lip has a slight cut on the upper lip, and your eye was slightly bruised.

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” He’s shaking you awake by force this time, and your eyes shoot open, startled, springing up from your bed and wiping your eyes.

“What? Daddy, why’re you here?”

“ Your face .” He reaches out to cup your cheek. You blink at him, utterly confused, brain hazy and muddled from sleep. “What happened to you?”

A quick peek in the side mirror across your room reveals your damaged face. 

So last night wasn’t a dream? Maybe you should’ve figured since it was clearly obvious that in real life you did not have sex with dream Rindou. It was so amazing, despite being a virgin, the sensations were completely up to the imagination. He was touching you down there with those big hands of his, fucking you with that cock of his. 

You were in the midst of riding him before your stupid father decided to shake you awake, breaking your thoughts, bringing you back to reality. 

Wiping the crust from your eyes, you glared at your dad. “Just leave me alone. I wanna go back to sleep.”

You shove his hand off your face, mood sour, sinking back between your sheets. 

“Why is there dirt and bruises on your face? Who did this to you?”

“It was nobody! Okay? I just fell. Go. Away.”

Your dad sighs, rubbing a hand on your shoulder to attempt at soothing you. It only makes you groan, wanting to push him away further, preferably out of your room forever. 

“I know you’re lying to me, but I can tell you’re upset about something. So I’ll talk to you later.”

“Whatever.”

By the time he’s gone, you try to head back to sleep, try to force your brain to return to that delicious dream you were having, but all fails. You can’t even get back to sleep, yet alone dream that exact scenario again. 

Later that night, after you’ve fixed makeup on your bruises, you sneak out one more time, this time with a mission and a purpose. Phone and wallet in your back pocket, you came prepared. 

It seems the name Rindou holds quite a name in the town, asking the people around led you to his current location, what seemed to be a nightclub. You’ve never been inside one before, having seen them all in the movies. It was almost exactly the same, yet more overwhelming, crowds and crowds of people dressed in suits, mini dresses, long dresses, short skirts—you were most certainly underdressed, now realising that now that you left the house in a simple black tank top, paired with a matching black zip up hoodie, and a fresh, clean pair of sweatpants. 

You look like you were heading out to a sleepover, rather than a private nightclub, and you instantly regret your outfit choice. 

Rindou, on his way down the steps, spots you looking around as if searching for someone, and he can’t help but feel sorry for you. God, you’re so stupid, walking into a place you clearly don’t belong. From your outfit, down to the way you were being pushed around by everybody in the thick crowd. 

He sighs, making his way towards you, muttering excuse me’s to everybody he’s shoving past to reach you. His hand latches onto your elbow, making you yelp since your back was turned, and you turn around to punch the dude, only to soften when you see him. 

“Rindo—” He’s yanking you through the crowd before you could even finish his name, and you’re trying to push him off you, screaming at him to let him go. “Get off me!”

He’s ignoring you, dragging you out of the main room, into the hallway with all the bathrooms. “What the fuck are you doin’ here?” You open your mouth to speak when he cuts you off. “And don’t say to party, because you and I both know that’s bullshit.”

You swallow your words down, chin lowering towards your chest, avoiding eye contact. 

How on earth are you supposed to explain that you were here on behalf of a dream you had the night before and want to re-enact it in real life without coming off as desperate ?

“I—I just wanted to see what a nightclub was like…that’s it.”

“Wearing that?”

“Ok. Rude.” You spot dried blood on the side of Rindou’s face, underneath his glasses. You take a step forward, he takes one back, confused when you keep walking forward, eyes trained on his face.

“What? What are you doing?” He’s backed up against a wall when you reach out to touch his face, thumb wiping over the blood from his face. It’s stained, so you frown, digging around your pocket for some tissues “Why are you touching my face?”

“Because there’s blood on it. What happened? Did those boys from yesterday hurt you? Oh my god, I told you not to go after them! I said I would handle it and now you’re hurt because of me—”

“Relax? Jeez, this ain’t because of you, or from them. It’s somethin’ else.”

“What then?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He grabs your hands away from his face, putting them back down at your sides. “Now, are you gonna tell me why someone like you is out here at a club like this at night?”

“I—it’s embarrassing…”

“Now I gotta know. C’mon, tell me.”

You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest, the action pressing your tits together, cleavage exposed from your shirt. Rindou’s eyes not-so-subtly drop downwards, eyeing the crevice between your breasts. You feel fuzzy when you notice it, hoping he finds you as attractive as you find him. 

“If I tell you, you can’t laugh. At all, ‘kay?”

“Sure, c’mon what is it?”

“I…want you…to have s-sex with me.” It felt like a weight has been lifted off your chest, body feeling ten times lighter once the words got out. The initial feeling of anxiety lingers at the bottom of your stomach as you wait for his response.

He says nothing, unblinking deep-set purple eyes stare at you, bewilderedly. His brain works 100mph to figure out how to respond to that. He’s had sex before, a couple one-night stands in the past with different girls, had a girlfriend for a couple months who he had regular sex with until they broke up. It’s not often he has girls asking him for sex, they normally initiate it themselves, pulling him in for a kiss, touching his shoulders, thighs, suggestively. 

To have you in front of him like this, asking for it…he’s not sure how to respond to that. “You what?”

“I want you to have sex with me. I had a, uh, dream last night about it and I couldn’t stop thinking about it so I want you to have sex with me. Only if you want to, though I would appreciate it if you said yes.” 

You wriggle your hands beneath your shirt, fiddling clumsily with your fingers, watching the bewilderment play out on his face. 

He even scratches his head, contemplating your answer. 

“I mean, sure? But—”

“Really?!” Your voice pitches higher with joy, then clears your throat to bring it back. “I mean, really?”

“Yeah I guess.” He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets, heading towards the back door of the club. “You comin’?”

“Wha—what, now? You mean now?!” You jog up to him, crossing the distance quickly! He opens the door, you follow behind him mindlessly as he makes his way to his car. 

“Yeah, ain’t that…what you wanted?”

“Yeah! Sorry I was just—”

He grunts, rubbing an exhausted hand over his forehead. “Stop talkin’, c’mon already.”

You snap your lips shut, nodding silently as you enter the front seat of his car. The entire ride to his place has you shifting nervously in your seat, seat belt digging uncomfortably tight against your chest. 

The view outside is calming, the streetlights flashing against your face as you stare out the window makes you feel like you’re in a movie. 

“Alright, get your ass on the bed.” Rindou nods at his bed, beginning to shed his shirt off. You blink at the sight of his bare chest, thick black ink covering the right side of his chest. It’s distracting, but attractive, mouth salivating at the sight. When you do nothing but stand there, he cocks his eyebrow at you. “Did you hear me?”

“No—I was just…wow.” 

He looks confused for a second, following your fixated gaze towards his chest. “Oh, this?”

“Yeah…it’s—so cool.” He snorts, moving towards his bed, dragging you down with him. “Did it hurt?”

“I don’t feel pain.” He’s half paying attention to your words, tugging you onto his lap, hands eagerly untying your sweatpants strings.

“Ooh, edgy—hey! Calm down—” you yelp when he drags your hips forward fiercely, struggling to undo the knot.

“How many times did you loop this shit? What the fuck.” 

“I dunno—I just do it.”

He finally unties it, lifting your hips up to tug your pants down your legs. 

Your hands hold onto his shoulders, fingers digging tight into his skin as his hands wander your body. It managed to feel better than the dream, which was expected, his warm, moist, calloused palms gripping onto your waist.

He kicks off his pants to the floor, setting you back down flat on his lap. Something feels hard between your legs, pressing into the flesh of your bare thighs and it takes you a minute to realise what it is. 

“Is—” you gulp down your words, fighting reality. “Is it meant to be that hard?”

“My dick? Uh, yeah. What, you’ve never touched one before?”

You shake your head anxiously, stomach burning weakly, biting restlessly at your lips as his brows lift, stunned, and bowled over at the fact that he’s about to take your virginity. 

“Oh.” He looks down at your hips, white-hot fingers grazing delicately down the curve of your hips. “That’s—wow. Are you sure you wanna do this?”

In contrast to before, you nod your head quickly, and with an indescribably hunger you grab onto his hands on your hips, boldly shifting them backwards to cup your ass. 

“I want this, and I won’t regret it. Promise.”

“Even if this was the worst lay of your life?” He says it as a joke, lips curving into a playful smirk as he shamelessly gropes your behind. 

“I wouldn’t have anything to compare it to anyway.” You shift a little closer, hands creeping to hold behind his head, itching your fingers in the soft streaks of his hair.

His eloquent eyes drop down to your lips suggestively, soaking in the glossy sight of them. Your body is stiff as you stare at him, blinking rapidly at what’s to come. He doesn’t say anything, just looks back up at you, asking you with his eyes. 

Your eyes slip shut mindlessly when he leans forward. His lips are soft, just like his hair, sensually moving them against yours. He’s patient as you learn the ropes, sometimes moving your lips at the wrong time, catching them in an awkward position. He tilts his head to create a new angle, your body stiffens still when the angle makes the kiss deeper.

“Relax,” he pulls away to whisper the words along your lips, kissing down the curve of your jaw sultrily. “You’re too stiff.”

His hands slide up the slope of your back in an attempt to soothe you, hugging your body tight to his. The feeling of his hands holding you is strangely affectionate, the feeling of your heart buzzing in your chest gives you the newfound confidence to lean forward again, capturing your lips together.

It’s quicker this time, more generous and warm, lips sliding against each other, and he drinks up the sounds of your soft moans. Your hands move to grip onto the side of his face, replicating the image you had created in your dreams. 

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, looking up at you with those eyes of his that never fail to drive you crazy. 

“Take off your shirt.”

It’s getting real now, you realise. His voice is seductively low, slightly breathy and you fidget backwards, spine straightening, hands sliding under your shirt to reach behind you, unhooking your bra.

You drag it down and under, unsure of what to do with it, choosing to hand it to him. The second it's in his hand, he tosses it away in favour of lifting your shirt up and over your head.

He reaches under your shirt , both hands cup your soft tit, palming, kneading it. He uses the side of his head to nudge you back into a kiss. 

As if now muscle memory, you hold the sides of his face as he presses firm kisses against your lips, one hand pulling at your nipples, rolling, flicking his thumb against the sensitive beaked bud, other hand gripping the size of it in his big hands, occasionally squeezing at it when a soft noise escapes your lips whenever he does something with his tongue, licking into your mouth with fervour, biting at the swell of your lips. 

Your thumbs brush against his cheek bones, tilting his head to the side as you scoot yourself closer on his lap, wanting him as close to you as possible. 

“So what made you agree to this, Rindou?” you ask questionably, and he breaks the kiss to look up at you. 

“I mean, you’re hot, that’s for one.” He lifts your shirt up, but doesn’t take it off, putting his head under and starts to suck your nipple. 

You wish you could see his face, only looking at a budge moving around through your shirt. The feeling of his wet tongue gliding across your nipple is extra sensitive, and you bite at your lip to control your moans.

“S-so you find me hot?” You feel warm and fuzzy inside when he nods his head through your shirt. “W-what else?” you ask through a shuddered breath, groaning, eyes slipping shut as your head lifts to the ceiling when his teeth tug at your nipple. 

“I dunno,” he grasps both breasts in his hands, squeezing them together, groaning at the sight. “You ask a lotta questions, though.”

“...sorry.”

“What’re you apologisin’ for? It’s cool.” His tongue kitten licks at your nipple a couple times, and you shudder when he sucks it back into his mouth. 

“I’m not sure….I always just apologise, I guess.”

He hums in acknowledgement—you think— raising your arms as he’s shrugging your shirt off your body, throwing it across the room. He picks you up from his lap, laying you flat against his bed, propping up his pillows as you snuggle into it.

“It’s comfy,” you say with an awkward smile, unsure what to say now. 

Are you supposed to kiss him again? Didn’t you do enough kissing already? Or was it too little? Do you hop right into the sex? Maybe you should’ve watched some porn before this, gotten a little comfy with the setting before jumping straight into losing your virginity. 

He laughs as if he could read your racing thoughts, and you look up at him through beaded eyes, but in reality, he’s laughing at your awkward smile. It’s cute, clumsy, and innocent. 

“You’re so cute,” he says, leaning forward, propping his arms beside your head, taking in the sight of your face, blinking up at him daringly, lips pursed and parted.

He bends down to kiss you slowly, shifting to fit himself back between your spread legs as they lock around his waist, keeping him in place. 

Before you could fully melt into the kiss, he’s pulling back, bracing himself on his knees before your legs, big palms spreading them out further. 

You feel exposed, hands covering your face, wincing when he rubs the palm of his hand up and down your clothed pussy, fingers grazing your clit delicately through the fabric of your panties. 

“Oh—oh wait, that feels good—” 

You’re bucking your hips up into the feeling, trying to feel it again. His finger brushes it again, and your lips fall open in a soft moan. “Oh my god, wait—”

“I’ve barely even touched you yet,” he chuckles, amused, and you swear you feel your thighs tense up when he drops down to the bed, face inches away from your pussy. 

His hands grip onto your thighs as he stalks forward, tongue darting out to lick a long strip from the top of your pussy to the bottom, and up and down, up, down again and again through the fabric of your now soaked panties. 

Shaky hands wind themselves in his hair, holding the strands in a makeshift ponytail as your back bows off the bed with each lick, every nimble stroke of his tongue.

“Can you—uh, wait—” You sit up on your elbows, looking down at him between your legs. “Can you remove the panties? Please?”

“Yeah, hold-on.” He peels your soaked panties away, bound by your slick, and his saliva, that he eagerly laps up, eyes closed, groaning between your legs at the taste of you. 

You can’t bear to watch him eat you out, closing your eyes, head hitting the pillows as your hands reach for his hair again. He’s mumbling something under his breath, burying his face deeper between your legs.

He doesn’t let you catch a breath, tongue scribbling ruthless patterns against your drenched folds that have you squealing, tugging at his hair desperately.

Rindou normally doesn’t do oral, rather have someone else go down on him, but just the thought of making you suck his dick makes him feel bad. There’s a hidden array of feelings concealed by his lust for you that makes him want to just pleasure you tonight, hence why he’s leaving his own comfort zone to make you feel good.

He can’t seem to get enough, unsure if it’s meant to feel this good for him despite not being the one being touched.Maybe it’s the way you pull at his hair whenever he sucks with a certain amount of pressure on your clit. His fingers dig more profoundly into your thighs as his tongue flicks and sucks along your clit, up and down, repeating that same motion over and over and over, drinking up your slick in a way that drives you crazy, tugging almost painfully at his hair that it's pleasurable.

Your hips start jolting away from him, trying to run from the feeling of his tongue spreading your puffy lips, tearing you apart piece by piece, lick by lick, stroke by stroke. It’s too much. Too much for you to handle in one sitting, muscles tightening as it chases your climax, goosebumps rising to the surface of your sweaty skin.

“Rindou—ah! F-fuck! I’m—” Your bite your lip so hard it aches, adding to the throbbing pleasure as you cum, hips jerking against his face to spread your juices along his chin as he groans at the feeling, strong hands holding you in place as his tongue continues slurping at your pussy.

You forcefully try to rip him off you, body unable to take the pleasure, your mind hazy, like you’re floating in another dimension. It feels like you aren’t in control anymore, unable to moan loudly as you squirt on his face, whimpering as your shaky legs begin to slow down. 

Rindou pulls away, bottom half of his face now soaked as he lifts himself up from the bed, wiping at it with his forearm. When you open your eyes, the corner of your mouth turns downwards when you see the sight of his bedsheets, soaked in your mess. 

You don’t mean to feel embarrassed, after all, he was the one that drove you to that point, but your shoulders hunch together and you pout regardless. “I’m sorry—”

“Sorry for what? That was so hot.”

“Really?”

He nods his head, gently pushing you back down to the bed. 

“Yeah, it was,” he breathes as shuffles forward, spreading your legs more to get another good view of your pussy. “You look so good—” he dubiously strokes his finger against your slit, dipping it inside, loving the way your back arches upwards. Your reactions are so cute. “—so wet, you’re so hot, fuck—”

“Rindou—” You’ve never been filled, never had anything up there before, so the feeling was new territory, and uncomfortable but as he picks up the speed, your cunt drips more, soaking his long finger, giving it the momentum it needs to continue fucking in and out, in and out. 

“How’s that feel?” He presses a finger upwards, brushing your g-spot, and it’s like something inside you switched, a sudden heat prickling inside you has your body jolting forwards with a loud moan that has him biting his lips, pinpointing that spot with his finger effortlessly.

Your body can’t handle another orgasm, and at this rate you’ll be cumming in no time. Your body tries to pull away from him, thigh muscles contracting, toes curling, as his finger fucks you deeper.

His eyes are focused on your body; the pain-laced pleasurable look on your face is his motivation to keep going, slipping in a second finger to watch you go crazy, moans rising in volume, hips jerking from his touch.

“You close?” He asks despite knowing the answer, wetting his lips as he’s watching you attentively, revelling in the way your walls clamp around the girth of both fingers, sucking him in each time he dares to pull out.

“I—I think, yeah—ah—” Your moans sound gargled at this point with how hard your shoving your head into the pillow to silence them. 

To hear how noisy you’re being is embarrassing; sinking into the pillow is half to conceal your blaring screams, half to sink into the softness in shame. Despite the burning heat in your face, the unwavering, direct gaze on Rindou’s face as his thumb rubs speedy circles on your clit is enough to push you over the edge, tip you towards your climax for a second time, body convulsing and twitching as a second round of fluids leave your body.

It’s less than last time, having squirted it all out before like a leakage, but it’s powerful enough for your eyes to roll, lips parting in another silent scream as your legs try to desperately push him away.

His fingers still inside you as his eyes survey the damage done to your body and his sheets. 

It’s equally messy on both ends, your chest inflating and deflating with every heavy pant, the area on your thighs closest to your pussy now soaked with a mixture of his saliva and your slick. His sheets are ruffled, practically pulled away from their neat placing, wet patches splattered the clean shirts dirty. 

When you finally catch your breath, you can’t even find your voice, scared to talk incase of another voice crack, so you stay silent, brows furrowing at the dull ache in your thighs that grow progressively hotter when you try to sit up.

“You good?” 

You peek an eye open to stare at Rindou. From his POV, you’re unsure what you might look like: drained, bushed, spent…the list goes on, you think. “I’m fine.”

Your legs are limp, like the small energy you had left in them fizzed away after your second orgasm. It’s not until you hear him unbuckling your pants, you remember you’re not done yet.

 There’s still one more little thing left…oh—oh, it’s not little at all. 

You’re speechless when he pulls his cock out from his briefs, shrugging them down his legs, onto the floor. He holds it like it’s nothing, like your mind isn’t shaken up, like you’re not goggle-eyed. 

Your blinking dumbly, half scared, half still processing stuff out when his hand wraps around the base of it, slowly stroking himself up and down, twisting his wrist when he reaches the tip. 

He’s telling you something, but you can’t hear him, not with the way blood is racing towards your ears, blurring out the sound of anything and everything. 

“Hey,” he jostles your leg to catch your attention, and it’s like your ears pop, free of static. “I asked you to reach in the dresser. Pass me a condom.”

“Oh—oh, yeah okay.” You gulp down your anxieties, reaching over to his dresser. 

You grab a condom packet and toss it to him. He catches it effortlessly, putting the edge of it into his mouth, holding it with his teeth as he spreads your legs for the third time today, fitting himself between them. 

It’s hard fighting the urge not to fidget beneath him, tell him you’re not ready and storm out the house, limp over back to your house with your half working legs. But you’re not a bitch—you say weakly in your mind, completely lacking the confidence to say that aloud. 

He rips the condom packet open, and for a second you’re puzzled with how that tiny thing could possibly fit around the length of his cock. It’s long, but not huge, not thick either, on the thinner side with a slight curve to it. That curve is already making your insides scream, wondering if you’ll be able to feel that inside you.

Is that a good or bad thing? To feel it in you? Will it add to the pleasure, or just make you bleed?

Your questions go unanswered as you watch with pure focus as he rolls it down his cock, like a veil, and it fits perfectly.

“Alright, I’ma push in now,” he says, leaning forward,  strong arms braced at your sides. “If it hurts, squeeze me, ‘kay?” 

You nod dumbly, blinking up at him as he rolls his hips against yours, the tip of his cock running over your weeping hole, all wet and ready for him to slip inside. 

You can feel your walls stretch open when he shifts forward, engulfing the tip inside your pussy inch by inch. 

“Oh—” you choke out, not liking the way the stretch feels.This is far worse than the feeling of his fingers, his tip being three times the size of that. 

It feels like forever with the pace he’s going at, ever so slowly pushing himself inside. When he’s around halfway, that’s when the stretch turns into a burn, a heavy, unsettling prickling sensation around your abdomen that has your nerves igniting in a state of panic.

Your fingers fly to his shoulders, digging them almost painfully into his muscles, letting out a shattered breath when Rindou keeps pushing. 

“I know, I know—it’ll feel good in a bit,” his lips brush against your temple soothingly, giving your forehead a gentle kiss, fighting the urge to groan at the pain stinging in his shoulders. 

When his hips are close to yours, the final inch of his cock left to be pushed inside, your hands fly around his neck, almost cutting off his blood circulation with how hard you’re holding him. 

You both let out a satisfied sigh when his hips are pressed flush against yours, his sigh mainly due to pleasure, the heat of your warm cunt is enough to make him spiral; your sigh mainly due to thanking the heavens you didn’t get ripped in two pieces. There’s an agonising ache gnawing in your legs the longer his cock stays nestled inside your pussy. 

With what limited space he has, he pulls out slowly, till the tip is left, and you feel so empty for a short moment, before he’s slowly pushing back in, getting your body used to the ministrations. 

He repeats this over , and over, until your hold on his shoulders loosen, until your moans are reduced to whimpers, then he picks up the pace just a little, slamming back inside you enough to hit deeper and your back arches off the bed. Your hands get stripped away from his shoulders, bunched up at the wrists, and pinned above your head as he fucks into you raggedly, rolling his hips in a way that hits deeper than your g-spot. 

“Rind—Rindou—I wanna t-touch you—stop—” you beg breathlessly, wriggling your wrists from underneath his grasp. “Please.”

The attempt is useless, his grip as strong as his brutal thrusts. You’re sure your body won’t recover after today, you’ll be bedridden for days, weeks even. 

He shuts you up with a long kiss, your sweaty chest pressed flush against his own. 

He holds your chin up with his spare hand, tongue flicking into your open mouth, tangling with yours. Your hands curl in on themselves, desperately trying to touch any part of him, hold his hand before he pulls away, breathing heavily as his spare hand moves between your legs, spreading you out further, pushing himself deeper. The new angle is relentless, finally feeling the curve of his dick hit your g-spot repeatedly. You see stars behind closed eyes, fingers scratching desperately at his wrists to let you go. 

His hips begin to stutter, his pace falling off when your walls spasm and contract around his cock. The condom does nothing to stop the tight squeeze of your pussy holding him in place.

He groans by your ear, the audible and deep noise sets your nerves ablaze, unintentionally clenching around him, ripping another groan from his lips.

Letting go of your hands, he sits up on his knees, both hands gripping the fat of your thighs unceremoniously, digging his nails into the flesh. The pain added to the pleasure going on between your legs, body happily welcoming the sting of his nails. 

“H-holy shit—” he grits out, eyes trained on the sight of his cock pushing in and out of your overstimulated pussy. 

“W—what?”  You dare to lift yourself onto your shaky elbows, barely able to keep yourself upright. 

There’s a ring of white cum being shoved into your pussy, and back out again with each thrust, covering the see-through condom cloudy. 

“What i—is—ah—that? Is that bad?” 

It looks bad…is that supposed to happen? Why is it that texture? Did you get an infection? All these thoughts race through your mind at rapid speed. 

“No, it’s not bad. It jus—just means you—fuck—” He can barely get a sentence out, not with the way your pussy spasms around his cock, the way your pussy squelches audibly each time his hungry cock ruts into you. “T-touch your tits, make yourself feel good.”

“Okay.” You reach down, grasping your tits in both hands, squeezing them the way he did before. It doesn’t feel good, you think, unsure if you’re doing it right.

“Your nipples,” he laughs at your confused face, “touch ‘em.”

Your fingers play with your nipples, rolling them between your fingers as his hands slide upwards to your hips. You yelp when he lifts your lower body up from the bed, angling your body in a  way that makes his cock hit your spot easier. The sensation from your nipples, paired with the shockwaves of his hips slapping against your ass, blur your vision completely, hitting your peak. Your gut tightens, body dissolving into a feverish pleasure, nipples tender with each rapid flick of your fingers. You think you black out, moaning in a silent scream as you come undone on his cock, crying out his name when his hips stutter, gritting out fuck as a warning he’s about to cum. 

You feel empty when he pulls out quickly, tugging the condom off and jerks himself off, shuffling up the bed to kneel beside your body, tugging his cock till cum splatters on your bare chest. It feels warm on your skin, your hands quickly reaching out to scoop it up on your fingers, experimentally tasting it. 

It tastes salty, earthy, on your tongue, and he watches as you scoop it up a second time, sucking it from your fingertips.

“Fuck, stop doin’ that, drivin’ me crazy.” He shudders, cock twitching when you look up at him, smirking deviously as you lick up another scoop, making a show of your tongue wrapping around your fingertips.

He’s reaching over into his dresser, grabbing some wipes to help you clean up.

“It didn’t taste like how I expected it to,” you say, laying flat on your back as he drags the cold wipes along your chest. 

“That a good or bad thing?”

You shrug, eyes following him as he lays down next to you. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I can walk right now.” You curl up next to his body, seeking his warmth as he grabs the covers, pulling them over your body. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“‘M not laughin’,” he lies straight through his teeth, a throaty silly chuckle leaving his lips as you dig your fingers in his chest, trying to push him away, fake pouting as a light laugh pours from your throat as-well.

“You literally are! Stop—” He catches your hand when you try to swat at him, placing it back down by your side. 

“Thanks for the ego-boost,” he smirks down at you, wiping the sweat from your forehead away. 

You shift closer, hand brushing his hair away from his face, gently taking his glasses off, tucking them neatly on the side. You sit up on your elbow, bending down to kiss him. His heart rate skips a beat when your lips, soft, warm, brush his own. His hands slide down to your hips, holding you in place when your tongue traces the edge of his own. You moan when he sucks the length of your tongue sensually, soft whimpers leaving your lips when he sits up, switching the position, laying you flat on the bed as he fits himself between your legs. Your hands skim across his hair, digging them into his scalp as he bites at your lip, swirling your tongue around his. 

It’s quite possibly the most intimate kiss he’s ever had, drinking up every inch of you, rolling his hips against yours when your legs wrap around his waist. 

He knows he needs to stop—you know you need to stop too, but the way your heart flutters when he groans into your mouth has you kissing him harder, grabbing his hand to squeeze at your breasts. 

You pull away first, wiping the saliva from your mouth. “I—I think I should go home now.”

“Can you walk home?” He asks genuinely, but there’s a hint of a playful smirk on his face that has you punching his chest softly. “Stay the night, I’ll walk you home in the morning.”

“But my dad—”

“Who cares? What’s he gonna do?” He dips his head down to your neck, and you pull him closer as he sucks bruises onto your skin.

“He’s strict and protective. He’ll notice I’m gone—”

“He’ll notice you can’t walk straight either. There’s no difference.” When you still look unconvinced, he pleads, hand sliding down to cup your ass, relishing in the way you gasp out. “C’mon, stay please?”

You bite your lip as you think. He has a point; your legs are so sore right now you doubt you could even stand on two feet to head to the door, yet walk through your house without your dad noticing something is up. He’s already suspicious about the bruises on your face that you still need to think of a better explanation for, this will just make him confirm whatever suspicions he’s thought of.

“Ok. I’ll stay.”

Time passes quickly, steady. Months of you sneaking out successfully to meet Rindou at his house, months of you losing yourself in his sheets, tugging his hair as he spreads you open with his fingers, eating you out till your legs shake and cum on his face each time, kissing you like he loves you, riding him like a woman starved, sucking the salty thick cum from his cock, smiling deviously up at him as you swallow it.

Months and months of you learning everything about Rindōu, meeting his family, his friends, creating some sort of social life for yourself. 

“So when can I meet your dad?” Rindou asks, catching the ball he’s been throwing repeatedly at the ceiling. 

“Never. He’d hate your guts, Rin.”

“So? The feelings are mutual, then.” 

You look at him, unimpressed, rolling on the flat of your stomach on his bed. “I’m serious. He’s gonna be weird about it, hate on you, your background, your family, your tattoos—” 

“Oi,” he nudges you gently with his feet. “What’s wrong with my tattoos?”

“Nothing!” You sit up, crawling towards him on the bed, lifting the hem of his shirt up, revealing the slightest glimpse of the thick black ink you love so much. “Love it so much, Rin.” 

“Yeah?” His lips twitch up to a grin, resting a hand behind his head, “show me.”

You peek at him through your lashes, fluttering them chastely, grinning cunningly, leaning down to kiss down his chest. 

His muscles contract and flex with each light kiss, rucking his shirt upwards as you make your way further up his chest.

You kiss up to his lips, shuffling yourself on his lap, sucking sweetly along the swell of his lips. 

You pull away with a sigh, sitting back on your knees. 

“But on a real note—” you cover his mouth with your palm when he tries to kiss you back, ignoring his ticked-off brow. “—you cannot meet him. At least not yet.”

He says something muffled beneath your hand. You remove it, and he repeats himself. “You’re scared I’ll say somethin’ outta pocket, ain’t you?” 

He grins at your eye-roll, wiping some hair from your face as he takes a moment to admire you. You barely notice the love-struck look on his face, too busy ranting about how your dad absolutely cannot find out about your secret relationship.

“I know you’ll say something out of pocket, Rindou. But it’s too early now…and he’ll probably ground me for life for sneaking out all the time to see you and I can’t risk not seeing you anymore. It’s not worth it,” you take his hand, squeeze it gently, reassuringly. “You understand that, right?”

He cradles your body in his lap, like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. In truth, you are, he’s never been happier since he’s met you. His brother noticed, his mother noticed, his friends noticed. Even he finds himself thinking about you more than he should; you creep into his dreams at night with that voice of yours, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, creeping your way into his head whenever he zones out.

“Yeah—yeah, I get it.” He pulls you in for a tight, warm hug, nestling your head in the crook of his neck. “I’ll wait however long you need me to.”

[galedekarios]

so, let me get this straight...

laiostoudenn aka wizardblood/lathanderr/spellbooking/the james somerton of the bg3 fandom instead of actually apologising and taking accountability for his repeated actions, now:

block evades, keeping his old blog up as an "archive" and making a new one, while, of course, not deleting any of the other sets he blatantly stole from others, including myself

lies and tries to change the narrative of what actually happened once again, while also conveniently not going into any details at all of what little he does admit, lest those who still believe him for some unfathomable reason look deeper

calls his stealing and constant plagiarism that has been going on for months "fandom drama" that is being "rehashed" constantly due to no fault of his own

still lies about not knowing these gifsets (or "a" gifset as he puts it) that he stole existed, while also saying at the same time yet again how it's just "gifing the same scenes" and that there would be "nothing" left to do if that isn't allowed, despite this still not being the issue and us showing ample evidence of what he is actually doing, i.e. him taking word for word captions, frame by frame sets, entire concepts down to a t, and him literally contacting us to "remake" these sets and not taking no for an answer, no matter in which way it was said to him, privately or publicly

feels he is being "villainised".......................... for plagiarising

claims we never gave him a chance to "right his wrongs"... as if he isn't 100% free still to do just that by say, deleting everything that was stolen and actually apologising, acknowledging what he did was wrong instead of lying about it, instead of whatever the fuck this manipulative collection of lies sprinkled with a pity party is...

and let me be clear: he claims he took accountability, but he doesn't like what taking accountability actually would look like in his case because he's been in this for internet clout and notefarming since day 1 & that's the only reason why he doesn't "right his wrongs"

claims he is being isolated and made to feel unwelcome in the fandom space, which i can't help but wonder.... might that perhaps be because he is plagiarising ppl, has taken back his initial damage control apology from march, while continuing to vague about the creators for months (ranging from accusation of transphobia, bullying, clique behaviour, etc) and now feels backed into a corner after it has come to light that he is still doing this and has now been blocked by various people who have been affected over a long time? might that be it?

is now further trying to victimise himself by saying he received homophobic messages, which... even IF true (and it's a big if solely based on just how much he lies and that he accused the initial person who spoke out against him of being transphobic), it still doesn't make it right that he stole despite being told to stop it multiple times. two things can be very, very wrong at the same time.

claims he did actually take accountability... which again, i can't help but wonder: was that by gleefully delighting in the fact he sees himself as the "top hated bg3 blog baybee"? that he is now in his "reputation era"? is that what taking accountability looks like for him?

still pretends he is a small blog bullied by bigger creators when his stolen sets made as many, or at times, even more notes than the ones he stole did, and as if his blog didn't grow big on the backs of actual original creators

and, finally: "And fair warning: If you do not stick to the status quo in this fandom, you will be eaten alive." like,,,, be so for fucking real right now, this is legitimately embarrassing

i thought this was finally finally over and done with, but no.

[choster33]

Gambit- X-men 97's Romantic Hero

I love Gambit and after watching X-men 97 I'm sure that he's a lot of people's favorite right now. After watching and rewatching, season 1 I think that the writers have set him up as the Romantic Hero which is not just that he's a main part of a love triangle which he is but Romantic in the Byronic literary archetype way of "possessing the qualities of being larger than life, enjoying suffering, being isolated from society, being always haunted by an unseeingly unidentified sin and is known for being quite cynical" according to Brainly.com. Not to mention having a long suffering love interest!

He is not in the series for a lot of time, but his arc through episode 5 and the impact that he has throughout the whole show is monumental. He begins with a splash looking hot in his iconic pink crop top. I mean, there are very few people who would make this look good and he really does. He also comes off as way more interesting than Scott who bores me to tears. I sometimes skip Scott and Jean stuff to be quite honest and that comes from Remy being a good guy, but not boring. He has a sense of humor, a sense of adventure, and an all around down to earth personality. He is a strong fighter and loyal X-men, but even from the beginning he is seen as charming, funny and right. There is less of a threat after Xavier's death and Scott, Bishop and Ororo did have it handled.

Then we get to the club and Gambit is the ultimate lover in that he pairs up with Rogue and then proceeds to look at her lovingly whilst telling her what any worthwhile man would do to be with her. Swoon.

Then we have episode 2 where Rogue and Magneto reestablish their connection. We may cheer Rogue for being able to touch someone, but look at Gambit's hurt and sad eyes. Long suffering relationship indeed. Romantic heroes seem to love suffering and what is more painful and self inflicted than falling in love with someone who can't touch, but also is full of insecurities about love and commitment. I love Rogue, but she's afraid of love and terrified of hurting someone else which shows in how she handles relationships.

Mon dieu, it's freaky Rogueneto telling him what he tells himself, his deepest fears. A good Romantic hero always has demons and haunted by past sins and who is more haunted by his past than Gambit. I have to say here that some people might be thinking who is more tortured than Magneto, but I disagree. Magneto has a dark past, but he thinks he's right. Whereas Gambit is wracked with guilt and feelings of not being worthy of being called a X-man and being Rogue's man. He grew up a Cajun swamp rat from a Thieves guild raised by thieves, assassins and other nefarious people and lived most of his life as a thief. What makes him interesting is the tortured guilt and modesty that Gambit has.

He goes to Genosha because he's jealous and wants to make sure that there is nothing going on between Rogue and Magneto. Magneto even says as much. He wasn't even meant to be there and might have been safe on Earth, but we know what happened to him tragically. Plus we see how he is not cowed by Magneto and willing to ask questions no one else is willing to ask. Another reason why Magneto is not the Romantic hero, is that he is mutant MVP in this show, the heir to the X-mansion and the X-men, asked to be king of Genosha, and etc. where Romantic heroes are on the fringes of society like Gambit, who is a hero as a X-man but not wanting fame, glory, or power like Magneto.

Kurt is so observant and sees instantly the connection the two have and calls Gambit out on being theatrical. Gambit calls himself a scoundrel and yet again dismisses the possibility of a happy ending for himself. Then we get that iconic line of "There is no love without sin. Love is best measured in what we forgive." Gambit again falls into the Romantic hero trope of thinking he is too low for love, but isn't going to necessarily change his ways, just accepts that he is on the fringes of society and all that entails. One of the things I love about Romy is their understanding about one another. They both have murky pasts and are filled with self loathing and self doubt. They are strong attractive X-men but they are best friends because they GET each other.

Oof, the breakup scene. How more Romantic and tortured was this? He showed how amazing a man he was by patiently listening to her tell her story and then at the end not blowing up at her or making her feel like shit, but just wanting the truth from her and showing how much it hurt him. He played the Swamp Rat, because a lot of that was a game, a way for her to feel OK with keeping him at arm's length, dangling on a string, never fully letting him in because intimacy was too scary.

It's scenes like this that make me wonder if they have touched before even accidentally because Gambit as a character is so self loathing that if she touched him even by accident, she is holding so much of that loathing in her which may be something contributing to her doubts. A part of comic!Rogue leaving Gambit in Antarctica was because she absorbed him and was filled with self loathing.

He is such a gentleman that he even kisses her hand and agrees to be friends. And granted that the Magneto and Rogue dance was hot, but that must have been torture for Gambit. Then our Byronic hero becomes a man of action and hot damn we get James Bond level action and heroics. He shows his strength and does whatever is necessary to save his lady. Despite his differences with Magneto, he doesn't petulantly sulk but does what is required of him because he is a hero at the end of the day. He is brave and selfless and chivalrous. He is giving old school knight chivalry here and I'm here for it.

Then my heart breaks as does every other viewer at the death scene and the "can't feel you" line. It's very soap opera-y and dramatic to kill him after breaking his heart, but here we are. Rogue is the long suffering love interest and most Romantic stories don't necessarily have a happy ending. He wasn't even meant to be in Genosha and because of love and circumstance ended up dying tragically as the ultimate hero. He died a hero's death dying to save thousands, but more importantly to save the love of his life.

In later episodes, his death is a catalyst for Rogue taking action and even turning darker. Her love for Gambit shows more when he is gone and is going to be a fundamental chapter in her life. One that might make her think twice about being commitment phobic and using her abilities as an excuse not to feel intimacy and how wrong she got it with Gambit. It was love, true love and she didn't see it until she was too late.

This may just be a chapter in their story and we may have more drama and angst with Deathbit in Season 2, but even dead Gambit was the troubled Romantic lead that made X-men 97 work and be so interesting. Episode 5 was my favorite and probably the best episode next to the finale and that's due to Gambit. We relate to him and feel deeply in his pain, self loathing, jealousy, and love of Rogue. I find Magneto interesting and Rogueneto is fun to read and write about, but Romy is the OTP and Gambit is Lancelot.

[jasmine-tea-biscuits]

Everyday I fight the urge to write a Leander fic inspired by the Darkling’s “fine make me your villain” line. Everyday I struggle not to rant about how he reminds me of that shadow wielding little shit.

And today’s the day yall get to hear about it. Sorry.

I’ve mentioned before that I think his kindness comes with another motive, which could involve studying the mc’s curse and potentially using it to his advantage. Perhaps against the Senobium? Perhaps his beef with them has to do with whatever he thinks is the greater good but perhaps he also believes he’s the only one capable of leading everyone there, and that’s why he needs you indebted to him and trusting him specifically.

And plenty of people have talked about the life and death imagery related to him, especially where immortality is concerned, which also makes me think he’s been biding his time for a LONG while, so losing the opportunity you present is NOT an option. He might’ve had perfectly good intentions when he began but maybe time and the isolation that comes with power has made him secretly very jaded, even if he’s not as crazy old as part of me likes to theorize.

Add to that the charisma and droves of followers despite (or maybe even thanks to) the mystery of where he came from and how he got this powerful?? On top of the fact he was already so fascinated with the curse, even calling it YOUR POWER, while seemingly being unaffected by it as if that shit wasn’t REALLY that out there for him to experience??? Like he could be familiar with that sort of power to begin with????

AND THEN THE SCREENSHOT OF HIM IN THE MC’S ROOM??!!!

ITS GIVING LIKE CALLS TO LIKE, ALIKE AS NO ONE ELSE WAS OR WOULD EVER BE, YOU AND I ARE GOING TO CHANGE THE WORLD, YOU WERE MEANT TO Be MY BALANCE TYPE OF OBSESSED!!!!

So yeah, I’m hoping Leander’s potential obsession with mc has something to do with him planning to use them till he realizes they might be the one person who gets him and he’s just desperate not to be alone again, even as he does terrible things for what he thinks is for the greater good.

But the part of my brain that hasn’t gotten rid of 17 year old me screaming about her questionable ships might be reaching and the very tense hand holding during the first meeting with him sure as shit ain’t helping my mental state. That screenshot could very well be a bad ending and all my theories and comparisons could mean nothing for the rest of his story. I could be delulu.

But I’ll be delulu till the game comes out.

[saey707]

Hello I love your work and I saw you opened up requests for the Heartsteal boys so I was wondering if I could request a scenario/short with Kayn and a significant other with a self harm problem/tendencies, only if you're comfortable and not too busy of course. Anyway have a good day!

✿ Prompt: Kayn worries about you ✿

♡ champion focus: kayn ♡ tw: self harm ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author’s Note: Hi there! I hope all is well on your end!! (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) Thank you for your request! My inbox is a bit flooded right now from all the Heartsteel requests, so being busy is unavoidable! ૮₍｡´ᴖ ˔ ᴖ`｡₎ა I hope I was able to convey Kayn's love clearly in this one. Hope you enjoy! ଘ(੭´꒳`)°* ੈ‧₊˚

After Kayn discovered you had severe depression and anxiety, his attitude towards you changed. Sure, the witty remarks and the occasional teasing never went away, but Kayn eased up. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel bad if he accidentally says the wrong thing (which he has done on several occasions before finding out...). As a result, he began to speak to you in a gentler tone and would frequently ask you how you were feeling.

Kayn absolutely hates it whenever you're upset. If there is one thing he always wants to assure, it's that you're happy and well.

It can be difficult for him to understand how you're feeling, given he has a... different sort of mental illness. But when he has his rather infrequent outbursts as Rhaast, he understands how isolating mental illness can make a person feel. He doesn't want you to feel that way.

"You didn't... today, did you?" Kayn always beat around the bush with potential trigger words, but that wouldn't stop him from asking, all in an effort to assure you weren't hurting yourself.

"No." You respond quietly, Kayn breathing a sigh of relief. He dropped down on the couch beside you, shutting his eyes as he began to ease against you, leaning on your arm.

"You know I worry about you-" "You shouldn't."

Biting his tongue, Kayn turned to you, confusion written in his expression. In a way, he sometimes didn't understand why you shut him out. And that can be a bit frustrating.

But for you, he was willing to be a bit patient.

"You know you can talk to me, right? We've been together for years now." He pointedly spoke, watching as you hesitated and turned yourself away from him. Your back faced him, and he could do nothing more than stare.

Slowly, he reached forward, pressing his chest against your back, pulling you into his embrace. You looked up at him, watching him pepper your face with kisses. Lowering your head, you turned again, wrapping your arms delicately around him.

"I just want us to be honest with one another." He mumbled against the top of your head. You hum in response, pulling back ever so slightly.

"I did." He was confused with what you just said... Well, until it hit him. His wide eyes softened, watching as you pulled down your sleeve, revealing the freshly bandaged cuts that ran along your inner arm.

You hid these scars and cuts from him. You hid them from everyone. You put them in a place where nobody would be able to see them. Because to you, they became the most personal part of yourself. A piece of your vulnerability and weakness.

But Kayn didn't think it was a weakness. To him, it was a sign of your strength. It was the most personal parts of yourself, revealed to him out of your trust and faith in him.

For that, he couldn't help but love you more. He couldn't help but have a deeper desire to take care of you, and never let you go a day thinking he would betray your trust in him.

Kayn's fingers wrapped around your wrist, slowly lifting your arm to reveal the myriad of scars that littered your arm from the distal portion of your shoulder down to your forearm.

His lips pressed against each one of them, eyes occasionally lingering up to ensure he was permitted to do this. You let him.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, his cheek pressing gently against your forearm.

"Loved."