#so i out them out into the universe in hopes that it either already exists or someone gets inspired so i can read it

[rubyuji]

Fragments (Mingyu, Seungcheol) ˙ ✩°˖🫐 ⋆｡˚

“You know since we are just a few minutes away from landing, did I ever get the chance to thank you for being a huge blessing in my life?” 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐

Genre: Slight angst, fluff, romance

AU: University!au, Coming of Age!au

Pairing(s): (Short) Wonwoo x Afab!reader, Seungcheol x Afab!reader, Mingyu x Afab!reader (Reader is Jeonghan’s little sister)

Warnings: Cheol is toxic, nonchalant and doesn’t care for their relationship, a kiss scene (how shocking)

Synopsis: Growing up with someone you love isn’t easy, well at least for Seungcheol, he never expected to be a life-altering heartbreak for you either, and while he did wish for a second chance, that plan had only backfired on him when he received an invite to your engagement party with Mingyu.

Note: I’m finally done with the long awaited fic! I kept pausing and got busy in between, but overall I’d say that I’m satisfied with it. Thank you all for waiting and I hope you like it! Don’t forget to like + reblog as always to help support me and other writers, happy reading!

WC: 12k (exceeded my estimate omg)

Taglist: @nerdycheol @notevenheretbh1 (Thank you guys so much!)

Seungcheol remembered the first time he saw you. It was at his friend Jeonghan’s house, your nose crinkled adorably as you read some cheesy romance novel at sixteen on the cream sofa in the living room.

He had wanted to say something, but all he could do was smile as Jeonghan introduced him to your parents. Since then, he has been practically your family’s newest son besides Joshua, their other best friend.

When Seungcheol had received his fair share of confessions from girls all over the school in his senior year, he had always declined them politely because he was just never interested in any of them, except this time, it was different ever since the day Jeonghan had introduced you to him.

In moments wherein he would receive a confession from someone, he would see you walk by and forget the girl even existed, opting to call out your name instead and jog after you.

He would even walk you to your class or visit you in your classroom, using the ‘protective brother’s friend’ excuse, when in reality, he was only scoping out the potential guys who were interested in you in your class.

“Dude, do you like my sister? You look like a lost puppy following her around,” Jeonghan chuckles. Seungcheol raises his brow at his friend and turns to Joshua, who just shrugs as he agrees with Jeonghan.

“You hang around Y/n so much that there’s already rumors being spread of her being your crush or girlfriend,” Joshua says flatly.

“Guys, I’m just looking out for her, you know we all care about her like a little sister. Come on, I’m just a lot more proactive than Jeonghan” Seungcheol whined.

It was half true, he did want to look out for you because he cared, but also because he wanted to ward off any of the guys who were admiring you.

“You act like I leave her for dead, people probably think she’s your little sister instead of mine,” Jeonghan says, bored.

“Oh by the way, I honestly can’t believe she’s seeing this guy in the other class, his name was Jeon Wonwoo or something? He asked her out on Valentine’s Day,” Seungcheol whipped his head around and stared at Jeonghan, who was way too engrossed in his laptop even to notice the way Seungcheol’s brows furrowed.

Seungcheol felt his heart clench, no wonder you were starting to decline his invitation to walk home with him, Joshua, and your brother.

You had even started distancing yourself from them. It wasn’t that noticeable at first, but you were definitely around them less, opting to spend more time with a certain boy that he had seen with you way too often.

“So he’s buying her snacks and getting her flowers every morning? That’s crazy to me. I mean, Y/n is still so young, how are you letting this slide?” Seungcheol whined.

Looking back, he remembers you walking around hand in hand with a tall guy who had glasses on, and you were always smiling at whatever the guy said to you.

As Joshua was about to get another word out about how Seungcheol was probably going to cry about you growing up and becoming your own person with an identity, you suddenly walked into the living room and plopped onto the seat beside Jeonghan. Your brother scoffed and rolled his eyes as you accidentally knocked the laptop from his lap.

“I heard my name? Are you guys gossiping about me?” You say playfully.

Seungcheol felt his ears warm up at the sound of your voice, despite you being a mini version of Jeonghan, he still couldn’t help but fall for you as a person because of how charming you were.

“Yeah, I told them about the boy you’re seeing in the year above yours. Is he your boyfriend or is he just a crush?” Jeonghan runs a hand through your hair and you hum with a smile on your face.

“He’s my boyfriend, a super sweet guy. I never expected him to ask me out or even feel the same way, but I like him,” Seungcheol could hear the love practically dripping from your voice, and he wanted the green-eyed monster to simply swallow him whole.

“You’re so gross if he hurts you, we’ll be after his head. Please tell him as a reminder,” Jeonghan then flicks your forehead and you whine.

Seungcheol could never get tired of seeing the way you and Jeonghan interacted, the way you reacted cutely, and how your nose scrunched in the most adorable way possible.

Turns out, Jeonghan’s promise was going to come around way sooner than any of you would’ve thought.

As Seungcheol was there for your first boyfriend, he also ended up being there during your first heartbreak.

He clearly remembers the day you shuffled over to your older brother quietly and held onto his arm for support, Jeonghan opting to pull you close to his side instead. Your eyes were soaked with tears, the guys looking at you worriedly on the way home.

“We’ll head in, I gotta take care of the little one first. You guys go ahead,” Seungcheol and Joshua nodded, still worried about your current state, but decided to leave your actual older brother to it because he knew what to do.

That night, Jeonghan texted their group chat about how Wonwoo had broken up with you that day.

Some bullshit excuse like you guys weren’t meant to be, when in reality, Wonwoo had been seeing a different girl behind your back and didn’t know how to tell you that he fell out of love, something Seungcheol couldn’t fathom.

How could someone fall out of love with you? You had so much to offer and you had so much love to give.

Seungcheol cursed the kid out in his head and texted that he would deal with him, but before he could do anything stupid, Joshua had to talk him out of it.

He knew it was a bad idea to even confront Wonwoo for breaking your heart, but he couldn’t help it, not when he couldn’t stand the look of hurt that graced your pretty face, the way tears welled up in your big doe eyes.

But, Seungcheol also considered the fact that you wouldn't like it if he got into a fight either.

Your first heartbreak felt like a blur after a few years, and Seungcheol had found himself watching from the sidelines again as you grew up to be such an independent and self-assured young woman. However, he could’ve never expected to become the face of your second biggest heartbreak.

Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua were now in their third year of college, and you had just entered as a freshman.

With him and Jeonghan studying business management and Joshua taking the psychology route, you were now added to their little family as well, this time majoring in fashion design.

“Are you guys proud of me? I’m finally an adult! Can’t wait to rot away for the next three to four years while you guys only have a year left again,” You joked as you settled on the seat beside Joshua.

Jeonghan had offered you a place to live that was in the same building, and it was pretty affordable, while still being near campus. Seungcheol thanked whatever deity was up there for giving you the opportunity.

Though you guys weren’t apart for that long, albeit the guys visiting you during every break since they started living away from your hometown, it still felt like something was missing during their time in college.

You felt the same admittedly enough, and even though you enjoyed the solace that came with the silence of not having to have the guys around with their constant bickering and yelling, you couldn’t help but miss them dearly.

So, when your brother offered up an apartment in the same building as theirs, once you got accepted into the same school, you took it immediately.

“Hey, we’ll still live here until we get stable jobs after graduating, baby. You don’t have to sulk, you won’t be lonely and we’ll make sure of it,” Seungcheol chuckled.

You felt your heart beat faster at the sound of his voice, you’ve seen Seungcheol ever since you guys were teenagers, but you had to admit, college and becoming an adult was catching up to him.

Seungcheol looked broad, and it was the result of continuously working out and his efforts to maintain his body and health, but he also carried a different air around him, one that made you feel choked up and so small around him.

You held back from developing feelings for Seungcheol though, as he was your brother’s best friend. It was strictly sibling code, but Jeonghan didn’t seem to care if you dated any of his friends for that matter.

“I’ll take it,” You smile at Seungcheol.

You couldn’t help the fluttering you felt in your chest, but you also weighed your feelings for the man.

Seungcheol was handsome, and he had a charming personality to match, but would he date you? He most likely saw you as a little sister above all else, and he was Jeonghan’s best friend, your brother would never let you live it down.

You were so wrong though because not even a month after you had moved in, Seungcheol had asked you out on a date.

You were pleasantly surprised, not expecting him to ever look your way at all, but here you were as the man handed you a small bouquet, pink dusting his cheeks as he waited for your answer.

“Yes Cheol, I’ll go out with you,” Seungcheol’s eyes lit up as he picked you up and spun you around out of excitement.

You laughed once he put you down, and on the way home, he couldn’t help but announce it to both of his roommates. Jeonghan raised a brow at you, and you shrugged shyly under your brother’s gaze.

One date with Seungcheol turned into two, then three, until you finally agreed to be his girlfriend. Things got serious quickly between the two of you, given how long you’ve known each other, and Jeonghan and Joshua couldn’t help but laugh at their friend who was finally experiencing a relationship for the first time.

You were both acting like lovesick fools whenever you visited the apartment and within a year, your relationship had progressed into something deeper.

Seungcheol opted to move over into your apartment on the floor above, and you both even decided to adopt a puppy and name her Kkuma.

Life couldn’t have been better, especially when Seunghcheol took great care of you in all ways.

“Hi baby, I picked up some things at the store that we were running out of. How was your day?” Seungcheol kissed your cheek as he placed the groceries on the kitchen island.

You were currently cooking dinner for the two of you, and you turned gratefully toward your boyfriend. He is the most perfect partner you could ever ask for.

Communication with Seungcheol was easy, loving him was easy, and being with him was easy, but it was as if he had become an entirely different person once you were about to reach the two-year mark of your relationship.

Seungcheol started becoming more closed off, he spent more time at his new job, and he started lashing out at you, causing huge blowup fights between you both, resulting in you having to sleep at Jeonghan and Joshua’s place more often than not.

“I don’t understand what’s gotten into him, you know he seems fine at work, but now he’s raising his voice at you? Y/n, we know Seungcheol is our best friend, but his actions are already harming you, don’t you think it’s better to break up?” Jeonghan looked like he was pleading with you.

Your older brother knew better than anyone, and you bit your lip softly. Even Joshua and Jeonghan had started to notice the change, it was how Seungcheol even refused to spare you a glance at parties, or how he had started to leave you alone more often, even during his day off.

What ticked Jeonghan off though, was the fact that Seungcheol had already raised his voice at you in front of them multiple times.

He couldn’t stand to see his baby sister being taken for granted by someone who once cared about her so much, he wondered what on earth happened to the Seungcheol who vowed to take care of you.

The one who always doted on you and scolded Jeonghan for leaving you alone when you needed him.

“Hey, take it easy on her. Two years is a long time Han, so it’s not like Y/n can walk out on him instantly just like that. I have to agree with your brother though, Y/n. This isn’t healthy for you, and we’re willing to help you with whatever just to make things easier,” Joshua pulls you into his side on the sofa and you huff.

The Seungcheol you were with felt unrecognizable, and you just wished you could run away from him for once, so you decided to confide in the two about how your best friend, Mingyu, had offered to take you to Italy with him because he was going to model for a brand there, and how they loved your portfolio and wanted to take you under their wing as a senior fashion designer.

“Don’t you think it’s wiser to take the opportunity? I know you love Cheol, but Y/n, you can’t keep putting up with this. He’s only hurting you,” Joshua says softly.

You shake your head and let out a deep sigh. What would it take for you to walk away from it all? Leaving sounded tempting, yet all you could think about was how Seungcheol would feel if you left.

He could still change, but how much longer could you endure the pain he’s been putting you through?

“Look, we understand that it’s easier said than done, but you’re still so young and have the whole world to explore. Don’t chain yourself down to this relationship, Y/n. We promise to deal with Seungcheol if it makes you feel better, but for now, we think you should take the opportunity to go to Italy,” Jeonghan looks at you painfully, and the last thing you wanted to do was to hurt your brother, seeing as you being in pain was already doing just that.

“I—'ll go to Italy, but promise me that you both will take care of Cheol? I know he hasn't been the best lately, but he’ll need as much support as I do. It's been difficult, but you guys are right, I still have the world out there for me, and whatever happens with Cheol will happen. Find our way back to each other or not, I think I’m ready for a fresh start,” You declare.

Jeonghan and Joshua look at you fondly, as Seungkwan, their new roommate and one of your closest friends, walks into the room, eyes as wide as saucers.

“Wait, you’re taking Mingyu up on that offer in Italy? That’s amazing, Y/n! I’ve been waiting for Seungcheol to finally get his grip off of you so you can flourish!” You laugh awkwardly as Seungkwan crushes you in his embrace.

“Ugh, Kwannie! Mingyu said he’s supposed to leave next week, I think it’s finally time I give him the answer he’s been waiting for. Are you coming with?” You pout at Seungkwan. Your friend nods and gives you a wide grin.

“I’m coming along so I can get used to the environment, I can’t leave these two just yet you know? Besides, I’ll go tell my sister once I’m ready and I’ll be there with you both ok? Now come on, let’s head upstairs, I’ll help you pack!” Seungkwan pushes you out the door and you bid your brother and Joshua goodbye, promising to call them later.

You were happy you had Seungkwan to keep you company while packing your things, he kept your mind at bay knowing you still had to talk to Seungcheol about everything that was happening.

You couldn't just get up and leave without an explanation, it just wasn't who you were, and you felt like it would’ve been unfair for your boyfriend.

Once you finally zipped up your last suitcase of personal belongings, you didn't have much, to begin with, and Seungkwan lugged the rest of your bags down to their apartment, you heard the door open. ‘He’s home,’ you thought to yourself.

You walk out of your room and see Seungcheol walk into the apartment, his body language seeming a bit more apprehensive than usual, but you know you have to say something.

You were already leaving for Italy the next week, and this was probably going to be the last time you’d be seeing Seungcheol in a while.

“Cheol? Can we talk, please?” Your voice was timid, almost coming out as a squeak if Seungcheol didn’t listen hard enough. He turns to look at you, his gaze suddenly soft but still somehow holding anger.

“Can you make it quick? I still have something to do so I won’t be in the house for long, you don’t have to wait for me,” Seungcheol huffed.

Your heart broke at how you could barely even recognize the person in front of you.

This wasn't the same Seungcheol who constantly doted on you while growing up. The Seungcheol who was too scared to even raise his voice at you, knowing you hated it when people yelled at you.

How did his, “Hey angel, don’t wait up for me and get some rest, you had a long day,” turn into cold scoffs and constant eye rolls? Was he tired of you?

You finally gather enough courage to speak up about everything you’ve held back from him the past few weeks.

This wasn’t your Seungcheol anymore, this man was a stranger in your apartment, he was a stranger you once knew, a stranger whom you’ve loved with your whole heart, only for him to throw it all away. You finally had enough, it was time for you to choose yourself for once.

“You know what? Fine, I will. To sum it all up, I’m leaving you Seungcheol, this isn’t gonna be the same as some silly little sleepover at Joshua and Jeonghan’s. I’m leaving, I’ve had enough of dealing with your outbursts and I barely recognize you anymore. I’m sorry I had to end it like this, but I’m choosing myself this time,” a stray tear makes its way down your face and you hold in the urge to sob.

This was for your own good, and if leaving Seungcheol and bearing the pain was what it took, so be it.

You knew it would be hard to move on, but you also knew that making a choice for yourself and choosing yourself for your peace was what you needed right now.

“I’m letting go, maybe we aren’t meant to be, or we’ll find our way back, but I can’t promise anything. I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me anything else because I leave next week. I have everything packed, and you can talk to my brother and Joshua about living arrangements, I’ll still pay the lease until the end of the month,” You choke out.

Your nose was starting to get stuffy and your vision started to blur, you couldn’t even look at Seungcheol as you told him everything.

“Y/n, please, don’t leave. I’m sorry, just give me time to fix everything, I know I fucked up. Why did you decide to drop all of this on me now? I– I can’t, Y/n, please,” Seungcheol was pleading with you.

You knew it was unfair, but after countless months of giving in to Seungcheol and settling with being the same understanding girlfriend you are, you couldn’t help it.

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you fix everything when you’re too late. I’ve given you countless chances to finally pull yourself together, even going as far as to leave you alone because I know how much you hate being bothered when you’re stressed, and this is what I get in return. I’ve been too understanding towards you that it’s starting to affect me, please, just let me have it this once Seungcheol,” You were now the one pleading as tears cascaded down your face like a waterfall.

Seungcheol’s heart ached as he looked at you. You were such a self-assured, independent, and strong young woman, he knew that since the moment he met you.

Jeonghan made sure you grew up not needing a man to take care of you but also made sure you still left a part of yourself where you allowed someone to take care of you once you felt vulnerable enough.

This wasn’t the same woman he had fallen in love with, instead, what Seungcheol saw in front of him was the same girl who had her heart crushed by a stupid teenage boy back in high school.

You looked so broken, so frail, as you tried to shield yourself away from him. Seungcheol couldn’t help but feel as if the world was closing in on him, had he been too neglectful the past few months?

Did he let his emotions get the best of him when he had promised you that he would keep a level head around you? Hell, he even promised your brother he would never hurt you, and look where it got him.

Seungcheol couldn’t even get another word out before you left the apartment, leaving him in the silence of a home that was once filled with the warmth of the love you had once before.

Ten minutes had passed and Seungcheol still couldn't believe that you had walked out on him, had he been too lax of a boyfriend already?

He knew he fucked up and he had been wanting to fix things between you both, but it ultimately ended in failure the moment you walked out of that apartment.

You hold the handle of your carry-on bag as Mingyu checks you both in while you are still taking in the atmosphere of the entire airport.

It felt surreal, a week ago you were in the apartment you once shared with Seungcheol, everything you withheld from him boiling over, and now you’re at the airport with one of your best friends in the entire world, ready to go to Italy and start life over.

“Hey, I got our boarding passes, let's head in and get past security so we don't have to deal with the hassle later. Also, you look tense, lighten up a bit, you need this reset,” Mingyu smiles at you gently while handing you your passport.

You nod and let out a breath, Mingyu was right, your life had been stagnant for too long, and this was something you deserved.

“Thanks, Gyu, for everything. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, I seriously feel like I’m indebted to you,” You joke, and Mingyu lets out a scoff.

“No need to thank me, you’re the most amazing fashion designer I know, and with the company liking your portfolio and telling me that they would like to take you under their wing immediately, you should give yourself more credit where it’s due. This was all from your hard work, Y/n,” Mingyu shakes his head and you both go through security while lugging your bags through the scanners.

After going through security, you and Mingyu bought food and chatted at the boarding gate happily while waiting for your flight to board.

“I’m glad you took the opportunity, I was starting to think you’d be stuck here forever, forced to live a boring life with Seungcheol. No offense, of course, it's just that you’re way too talented to not show your colors to the entire world,” Mingyu flushes and you grin at him sheepishly.

You met Mingyu through Minghao, who introduced you to the man because he knew you needed a male model because you ran out of options for your menswear class.

“Look, I know you love your brother and all, but this is our last final for the year, Y/n! Think about it, you already had Joshua model for the midterm, and Jeonghan modeled for us during the first semester’s finals, and our second-semester midterms.” Minghao gave you a pointed look knowing you had to do this for your sake.

You were too familiar with your brother and Joshua’s builds, and despite getting near-perfect scores on your projects, you still wanted to try something that was out of your comfort zone. Minghao then snaps his fingers and you look at him in confusion.

“I have this friend, you remember Mingyu right? He was my model during the first round of midterms last semester. I think it would be great if you practiced with him since you aren't used to taller and broader builds,” You raise your brows at Minghao’s proposition.

“I mean, you’re right about that. Give me his contact, and I’ll shoot him a message,” You smiled softly. Minghao handed you his phone with Mingyu’s contact as you input it into your phone.

You met Mingyu once for his measurements, saw his sweet smile once, heard him speak in his soft voice, and the rest was history.

Mingyu had turned into your rock, your other cheerleader who was there whenever your boyfriend wasn't. Now, you’re traveling the world with your best friend who is everything you could ever ask for.

“I appreciate the sentiment Gyu, I couldn't have gotten here without you being by my side. I guess I thought I was destined to just, you know, wait until I get offered a boring job at some corporate office that has nothing to do with my degree, then live with Seungcheol until God knows how long,” You laugh softly, looking back at what you had thought would be the rest of your life, but change is inevitable and it was time you accept it.

“Of course, you know I’ll always be by your side. It's my job to take care of you as your best friend, even if you insist that you’re completely fine on your own.” Mingyu pouts.

You laugh at Mingyu and heave a sigh of relief. You finally felt free after all these months.

From being too depressed to get out of the apartment, declining every invitation from your friends, to moving to Italy with both of your best friends and starting life over from scratch.

Your brother and your friends were right, even if you did love Seungcheol, some people just aren't meant to be in our lives for so long once they impact you negatively.

“Oh, by the way, did Seungkwan send you his flight details? I swear, he has do-not-disturb mode on more, these days,” You laugh as you come across a picture of you, Seungkwan, and Mingyu on your last trip to Jeju during Seungkwan’s birthday.

Mingyu hummed and nodded, showing you a screenshot that Seungkwan had sent to him.

“His flight is still later tonight, so he’ll probably arrive the day after us or like at night? I don’t know, time zones are weird,” Mingyu gave up trying to understand time zones and you laughed again at how cute your best friend was.

“I’m sure Seungkwan will call us once he’s there, so we don’t need to worry much. What we need to worry about though, is where we’re going to be staying once we get there first,” You laugh.

Mingyu shows you an email on his phone from the company, it said you were going to be provided with housing since Mingyu was a model, and you were a senior fashion designer.

“What? They’re going to provide us with housing? That’s crazy,” Your mouth gaped like a fish and Mingyu laughed at you.

“I know, that’s why I chose this company over every other one. The others only ever put your portfolio and resume aside, while the one we’re being hired to right now provided us both with opportunities. I thought it was only fair to bring you along since I did get scouted by big shots after uploading myself modeling in your pieces,” Mingyu smiled softly, his tone laced with gratitude towards you.

You wave off Mingyu’s remark dismissively. “You worked hard you know? I think my clothes were only a little bit of help when it came to your actual scouting, I think you should give yourself more credit,” You reply.

After an hour of talking, you and Mingyu were finally headed into your seats on the plane. Suddenly, everything felt so surreal as Mingyu lugged your carry-ons into the overhead bins.

“I can’t believe we’re moving to Italy, never in my life would I ever imagine hopping on a plane headed to work in Europe of all places,” You say to Mingyu, who is settled on the seat beside you.

“I think you should finally start believing it because you still might feel as though you’re dreaming the moment we land,” Mingyu chuckles and leans his head on yours, an action that makes you feel warm inside.

It felt nice having Mingyu around, he was healing a part of you that wished it was Cheol doing all this, but you knew better than to think of your ex right now because you were on the path of moving on from everything he put you through.

The flight was a breeze, and thankfully nobody was in the seat beside Mingyu, because he could easily slip into the restroom at any time, a luxury he didn’t usually have if he was placed in a window or middle seat on the plane.

“You know since we are just a few minutes away from landing, did I ever get the chance to thank you for being a huge blessing in my life?” You laugh as the plane is making its final descent.

“I knew you needed this opportunity because I saw how badly he was treating you, I had to give you this much because you deserve way better,” Mingyu replies gently.

Your heart blooms and you grip his hand, you are ready to move forward, and you know you have the right people by your side.

“Seungkwan, can you go pick up groceries at the Korean supermarket across the street? It’s your turn since you are mooching off me and Mingyu until you move in with Vernon,” You jokingly call out to your friend.

Seungkwan grumbles and you laugh before turning to him from the kitchen. “Yeah, don’t worry, I already know whatever is on the list before you need to tell me, I’ll be back in like twenty minutes,” he tells you on his way out the door.

It had been a few months since you had arrived in Italy with Mingyu and Seungkwan, and you all had settled into the country quite easily.

Starting work was a breeze because the company was very accommodating and everyone was friendly, and you found yourself moving on faster than you expected.

“Seungkwan’s finally moving in with Vernon huh? I can’t believe it’s already been a while since we got here. Now tell me, when are you going to give in to me?” Mingyu jokes as he wraps his strong arms around your waist.

You were no stranger to skinship with your best friend, but the veil between friendship and romance was starting to wear thin after moving in together after a few months.

Mingyu was just a stark contrast from who Seungcheol was, and you were starting to give in to him despite your fears of commitment.

It didn’t help that your best friend was just as hopeless a romantic as you are, so Mingyu naturally took his time with you. It was something you were immensely grateful for because he fully understood that you probably weren’t even ready to pursue another relationship.

See, Mingyu was naturally a soft-spoken man. During the entirety of friendship not once had he raised his voice at you, or anyone for that matter, even when he was angry or agitated.

Mingyu rarely blew up on people. You used to fear being yelled at because with Seungcheol, it was inevitable, and it only planted a fear of everyone raising their voice at you the moment Seungcheol had let go of all his reserve during a fight.

Even if Mingyu did raise his voice from across the apartment, he made sure it was at a reasonable volume that didn’t scare you, and on the rare occasion that you both would get into a fight, Mingyu would only communicate his feelings towards you in a calm tone.

Mingyu was also just full of love, he was always so considerate towards everyone around him. He made sure you and Seungkwan knew how grateful he was to have you both by his side because this was a big step for all of you.

The nights when the three of you would drink together, and Mingyu would pour out his gratitude towards you both, about how he felt so happy that the universe had given him some of the most amazing best friends in the entire world (also yapping about how much he missed Wonwoo, his old roommate, but that was for another time).

It was just a huge plus that Mingyu also willingly helped around the house, naturally because you knew it was in your best friend’s upbringing to keep the house in proper shape.

Even cooking with Mingyu was an experience because you both enjoy sharing recipes and want to try them out together, which meant Seungkwan was treated to a delicious meal every time you and Mingyu would find a new dish to try out.

Mingyu made you experience new things that you couldn’t when it came to your ex, and slowly, the feelings between you both unfolded.

Seungkwan couldn’t deny it to you either that you and Mingyu would make a great married couple, you both were pretty tame and low maintenance, something that was rare to find these days.

“I know you’re not ready to start a relationship or deal with feelings right now after everything you’ve been through with your ex, but trust me when I say this, Mingyu is the one you should marry. You both look so perfect together, and it’s a plus that he already likes you,” Seungkwan whined, and you laughed as he threw your other best friend under the bus.

Mingyu was out for an event with Minghao that night, and he wanted to bring you along but he also knew you hated huge events or loud places, so he opted to leave you at home with Seungkwan, promising to come back at a reasonable hour and to not drink so much.

It was a small action but it was something you felt grateful for, it showed that Mingyu still thought of you while having fun and living his life.

“I’ve never thought about dating Mingyu, let alone marrying him but, I mean, he’s not that bad. I’m already way past my ex anyway, so you’re right on that. Don’t throw Mingyu under the bus like that ever again though,” You giggle. Seungkwan clicks his tongue and sips from his wine.

“I wish you met Mingyu before Seungcheol or something, you two make each other so happy and you guys don’t leave me out at all. I love you and Mingyu so much despite everything we’ve been through,” Seungkwan smiles softly and holds your hand.

Moving to Europe definitely wasn’t an easy decision for the three of you, but you all found comfort in each other and got through hurdles together.

There were fights, and misunderstandings, one time you even walked out on them, but you all knew that at the end of the day, you all had each other no matter what.

Seungkwan’s words from that night echoed in your head as you snapped back to reality, Mingyu’s arms still wrapped around you with a soft grin on his face.

You wish you had met Mingyu before it all, maybe then you would’ve narrowly avoided one of your most life-altering heartaches, but now you were ready to move forward with Mingyu.

“What if I told you that you already had all of me?” You didn’t stop for a second and kissed Mingyu, who froze for a second, but immediately melted into the kiss.

You weren’t afraid to love anymore. Mingyu was all the proof you needed, knowing you deserve a second chance after everything.

When you both pulled away, Mingyu’s cheeks were dusted pink, his signature smile with his canines tugging at his lips.

“You don’t understand how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” he breathed out cheekily, chasing your lips for more.

“You’re so annoying, you know that right?” You laugh and pull Mingyu in for another kiss, this time with your arms around his neck.

Suddenly, you both hear a crash by the doorway and hear plastic bags falling, only to find Seungkwan with his mouth agape and eyes as wide as saucers.

“I was out for twenty minutes, what the hell happened,” Seungkwan choked out.

It’s been years since Seungcheol had heard from you, and he was still a mess, except he was finally starting to get back up on his feet to help himself.

About a month after you had left, he had moved back in with Joshua and Jeonghan, and he didn’t understand why they still welcomed him with open arms, let alone Jeonghan of all people.

You were his younger sister, and he hurt you, shouldn’t he be cursing him out and telling him to go to hell?

“If you’re wondering why you seem like in our good graces, Y/n told us to take care of you until you’re back on your feet. You’re still our childhood friend Cheol, and even if we don’t tolerate what you did to Y/n, she told us to make sure that you weren’t going to do anything stupid. You need as much support as her, and who are we to deny when we care about you both?” Jeonghan says firmly.

Seungcheol felt his heart clench, even after he hurt you, you still cared enough to tell his two best friends to care for him.

You were an angel, and he took you for granted. You even went as far as to tell them that it was okay for him to move back in with them (granted Seungcheol also did twice as much housework compared to Jeonghan and Joshua because of how guilty he felt).

Now, three years had passed since you had moved to Italy, and you usually visited during the holidays, but Seungcheol was never around because it pained him too much to see you.

He had eventually gathered up the courage to try to move on, and while he is stable in his career as a form of distraction, he still had feelings for you deep in his heart.

You were his first love, and it wasn’t going to change any time soon because he wanted you forever.

Every day he wished he wasn’t immature enough to push you away, he silently prayed to every God above for him to give your relationship another shot.

Seungcheol was a changed man now, and he was willing to do everything in his power to be with you.

Seungcheol was hopeful, until he wasn’t, especially when Jeonghan had dropped the bomb that you had invited them to your engagement party in Jeju island.

“This has to be a joke, right?” Seungcheol could only laugh at how ridiculous it all seemed.

Were you engaged? It had only been a few years since you moved to Italy, he was sure you wouldn’t have found a boyfriend in that period, let alone a fiancée.

“Nope, you’re hearing it correctly. Y/n’s been bringing home her boyfriend, well I guess fiancée now, for three years already. I understand that it’s been rough ever since we started living separately, you wouldn’t visit as much as Josh whenever she was around, understandably so, but she’s moved on and he makes her happy,” Jeonghan sipped from his mug, and shrugged, making Seungcheol’s brows knit.

“I know exposure therapy isn’t the way to go, but Y/n means a lot to us despite everything, you know that. You can get the closure you need and you can finally move on, Cheol,” Jeonghan continued before putting his cup down on the desk, this was his second cup of coffee, he had to stop at some point.

Seungcheol was in an internal debate with himself, he realized that while he did need closure, was it worth all the pain of seeing you again?

He knew he had to, it was what he needed before he could fully move on, but something in him was still hanging on to what could’ve been between you both.

“I’ll go, maybe it is time. I’ll consider it,” Seungcheol slumps in his chair and stares outside the window of his office.

All the time he had spent building his company from the ground up so he could prove himself worthy once you came back, only for you to be engaged with someone else.

“You don’t have to force yourself though, just take it easy. Y/n will understand, you know she always does,” Jeonghan walks up to Seungcheol and leans by his desk, staring at the same city skyline in front of them.

Seungcheol’s hard work was undeniable, and it was all because of the effort he put in to forget you, but he just couldn’t, Seungcheol knew he needed proper closure instead to fully move on from your past.

“I’ll be fine Han, I can handle myself now,” Seungcheol says as his brows knit once more, looking back at the events of the past year.

He had started his own tech company and now he’s the CEO of a huge corporation, his career is now a reflection of all his hard work and dedication, but what was the use of all that money when he couldn’t share it with someone else? That someone who he desperately wished was you.

“I know you can handle yourself Cheol, but you were a wreck when you first moved in. Me and Josh had to pester you for you to get back on your feet for fucks sake, I wouldn’t hold it against you if had second thoughts about going,” Jeonghan says softly. As much as he knew that his friend could handle himself, he couldn’t help but worry.

Since then, two weeks had passed since that conversation and your initial invitation to your brother and his best friends to your engagement party.

Jeonghan calls you excitedly as they settle on the plane to Jeju, Seungcheol lugging the bags into the overhead bins, and Joshua already taking a nap as other passengers continue to board.

“Are you certain that we already have assigned rooms? Ok, I understand. Take care Y/n! We’ll see you at the airport,” Jeonghan hangs up before turning over to Joshua and Seungcheol beside him.

“You guys are sharing a room at the resort, and I’m going to room with Seungkwan. Y/n and her fianceé will be picking us up, so no funny business,” he continued.

Seungcheol clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. He's a jealous guy and he can’t help it, but you’re no longer his girlfriend and he knew he had to behave himself.

He couldn’t wait to see who your fiancée was, and he tried to make the most of it at least because you were still someone who’s considered family to him.

The flight was short-lived and they landed in Jeju in no time. Joshua stretched as they carried their bags from the conveyor belt onto the cart, and Jeonghan had received a call from you saying you were outside waiting.

Traveling with three bachelors felt like a nightmare for Seungcheol, it wasn’t like they weren’t capable of getting girlfriends, but rather, they were too busy for the dating lifestyle.

Seungcheol wouldn’t wish for it to be anyone else though, he was just happy to have Joshua and Jeonghan around as his support systems.

“Last bag, let’s head out so we have enough time to rest before the party tomorrow. Don’t wanna go on the plane with a hangover and a fuck ton of regrets once we’re headed home, just so we can mentally prepare ourselves,” Joshua breathes out. Though this wasn’t a wedding, it sure did feel like one.

The only reason you and Mingyu had even decided to have an engagement party was because you two were going to have your main wedding in Italy with your close family members.

The party served as a gathering for distant friends and relatives to congratulate you both since you couldn’t bring everyone to Europe with you.

As they headed out of the airport, Jeonghan could spot your figure and hear you calling out to them by your rental car.

Seungcheol had also caught sight of you and felt his heart skip, you looked more radiant since the last time he had seen you, granted it was probably because three years had passed, and he just couldn’t believe it.

You looked healthier now, you were no longer frail, and your smile had reached your eyes again, the same glint of happiness in them.

Seungcheol had forgotten why they were here the second he saw you, but it was only for a moment until he saw your fiancée standing right beside you, his form towering over yours.

Seungcheol recognized who this man was, it was Kim Mingyu, your best friend since college.

“Hi, guys! It’s been so long, I missed you all so much!” You say with a smile and hug Jeonghan.

Your brother grips you tightly while laughing, he missed you just as much, if not more.

Seungcheol smiles at the scene in front of him, he had always adored your interactions with Jeonghan.

Joshua then walked over to Mingyu as the taller man helped him with the bags. So this is who you were marrying, your best friend who Seungcheol had always worried about deep down.

“Hi Cheol, how was the flight? You must be tired, Jeonghan told me you guys were up early,” You greeted him softly, a smile still gracing your features.

Seungcheol blinked in disbelief, he never expected you to be so welcoming towards him, but years have passed and he understands that you’re over it by now.

“It was alright at most, I’m honestly just excited to relax at the hotel. How’ve you been?” Seungcheol smiled.

He looks over and sees Mingyu talking to Joshua about something while helping him with their bags, still weary about him.

“I’ve been great, Italy with Seungkwan and Mingyu was one of the best decisions I could’ve ever made. I know there were some things we avoided because of our past, but I hope you know that I’ve done some reflection since then, so no hard feelings on this trip ok? I want you guys to relax,” You lead Seungcheol over to the car and he sits in the back with your brother and Joshua.

The ride to the resort was comfortable, courtesy of you and Mingyu being easy going as conversations flowed naturally.

Seungcheol gauged that you were in good hands, but his heart was still calling out for you, something he wanted to keep at a minimum. You were going to marry someone else, there was no chance left for him.

“You have always had a good eye Y/n, this resort is beautiful,” Joshua compliments.

You laugh and brush off Joshua’s comment sweetly, but it was true, you always had a good eye for things in general (except boyfriends apparently, but Mingyu be damned because he did everything in his power to win your heart).

“I’ll bring you over to Seungkwan’s room since he’s staying across from me and Mingyu. Baby, can you lead Joshua and Seungcheol over to their rooms?” You turn to Mingyu, and Seungcheol catches the way your fiancée’s gaze is full of love for you.

His heart could only clench, was it genuinely worth the pain to support you? Seungcheol secretly wished for the ground to swallow him up whole.

“Of course, remember we still have dinner with everyone later, don’t forget to tell Jeonghan the details,” Mingyu reminds you.

You nod and wave them off, dragging your brother over to a happy Seungkwan, who stands by the elevator waiting for you both.

Joshua and Mingyu had been in their own world, talking amongst themselves while Seungcheol’s focus had been on his phone the entire time.

“Hey man, how are you? Jeonghan told us you were working hard to build your company up after we left for Italy,” Mingyu says in a friendly tone.

“It’s been great, it gets pretty lonely here at the top since the breakup, but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” Seungcheol says with a smirk, finding the entire situation so ridiculous.

Joshua eyes him and chuckles to alleviate the jab that Seungcheol had taken at Mingyu, but your fiancée takes it just fine and continues the conversation calmly.

“I hope you find someone to share your success with in the near future. I understand that we all deserve to be loved by someone. It’s just that some people we hoped to end up with aren’t meant to be, and it’s not our fault,” Mingyu replies, tone still friendly and calm.

Seungcheol felt ticked off but decided to behave himself as the elevator arrived at their floor.

“Here’s the key card, as I mentioned earlier, there is a dinner we’ll be having with the rest of the guests tonight, it will be at the restaurant by the beach. You can just give mine or Y/n’s name for the reservation if they ask, I’ll see you guys later! Rest up since you guys must’ve had a long flight,” Mingyu makes his leave.

Joshua turns to Seungcheol and raises his brow while unlocking the room.

“Behave a bit, I know it’s been a while but we’re here for Y/n and it’s about her, you don’t have to like Mingyu, but let’s not cause any fights. Mingyu’s good to Y/n, and you can talk to Y/n about everything tonight after dinner if you need to,” Joshua says firmly.

Seungcheol hangs his head low, Joshua is right, he promised to behave himself because he understands that he needs to move on.

You had every right to leave him back then, and he should accept it, he just needs his final bit of closure, even if it hurts.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be more friendly toward Mingyu. I’ll keep myself in line, let’s rest so we can get ready later,” Joshua nods and smiles at Seungcheol, he was finally getting somewhere and it made him feel like a proud mom.

On the other hand, you were already being interrogated in your room by Jeonghan, Seungkwan, and your beloved fianceé because of Seungcheol’s appearance.

“You guys said it would be fine! Besides, I don’t have any hard feelings! He’s still like family Han,” You whine to your brother as you bury yourself in Mingyu’s embrace.

“He was already taking jabs at Mingyu when I told him to keep himself in line. Y/n, I need you to talk to him and give him the closure he needs tonight so that he doesn’t go mad tomorrow,” Jeonghan sighs.

You pout and Mingyu pecks your lips before taking your hand in his and rubbing it with his thumb as a sign of reassurance.

“I’m willing to do that, as long as we’ll be ok by the party. I’m sorry for causing problems,” You say sadly, now feeling guilt eat at you.

Inviting your ex was such a last-minute decision, but Seungcheol had been in your life for so long even before the breakup that you still felt the need to have him at such an important event in your life.

“Look what you’ve done, Jeonghan. Y/n, it’s ok to make these decisions, all he needs is to talk to you and you’ll be fine, we know you and Mingyu trust each other enough for you to make this decision,” Seungkwan tells you.

It was your brother’s turn to pout as Seungkwan jokingly slapped his shoulder. Seungkwan’s words instantly made your shoulders feel lighter and you looked up at Mingyu.

“I trust you. Look, you can talk to Seungcheol tonight after dinner and we’ll make sure that nothing will happen, alright? Don’t worry,” Mingyu says softly. You nod and look over at your brother, who gives you a smile and a thumbs-up.

Dinner rolls around and you’ve finished your makeup, along with your hair, all that’s left is your dress for tonight.

“Mingyu? Babe, can you come help me with the dress?” Your fiancée peeks from the bathroom and you giggle at his appearance.

“I told you to make the design simpler so you can put it on more easily, but then again, you’re Y/n. My favorite fashion designer,” Mingyu jokes while he zips up the garment and ties the corset in the back.

The two of you look in the mirror, and you take in your form. The dress was designed by yourself and it looked stunning in every way possible.

The sleeves were flowy and the skirt ended right above your ankles, the bodice had a built-in corset and the neckline was a deep v, along with a slit ran down the side until your upper thigh.

“I may not be the luckiest man in the entire world, but my god does the knowledge of me marrying you cancel all that out,” Mingyu says, his jaw slack.

You blush and cover your face with your hands, despite dating for two years and now being engaged, you could never get used to Mingyu complimenting and affirming you constantly.

“I love you, so much,” You kiss Mingyu and wrap your arms around his neck.

The two of you had also had it hard during your dating journey together, but it was nothing a bit of communication couldn’t fix, especially when you both put in the work to get to where you are today.

“I love you more than you could ever imagine, vita mia (my life)” Mingyu says in between your kisses and wraps his arms around your waist.

Before things could progress even more, Seungkwan slams the room door open and clicks his tongue.

“Nice to see you’re brushing up on your Italian guys, now if you don’t mind, we have some guests to get to. You guys have five minutes to go to the lobby,” Seungkwan huffs and shuts the door again.

It’s silent, until you and Mingyu start laughing.

“Shall we?” Mingyu smiles at you after a laughing fit and you take his hand in yours. It was going to be a long night, but you’re with the people you love and that’s all that matters.

At the restaurant, you were elated to see your family members and friends all gathered to celebrate your engagement.

“Mom! Dad!” You grin wildly and greet your parents, seeing Jeonghan following right behind you to greet them as well.

“Y/n, you look so beautiful tonight. I guess being with Mingyu is rubbing off on you,” Your mother jokes softly.

She had always been a fan of Mingyu ever since you brought him home, he was the epitome of any mother’s dream son-in-law.

“She’s always been so beautiful, mom, even more so since the Italian sun hit her skin. It’s lovely to see you tonight, have you seen my mother by any chance?” Mingyu wraps an arm around your waist securely, whilst smiling at your mother.

You were surprised at the display of affection since you two had been holding hands prior, but your eyes caught wind of Seungcheol and it clicked.

“I was just with her, she’s always running off to greet the rest of the family and guests. I’ll go look for her so we can settle at the table together,” Your mother giggles while dragging your brother away, who waves at you sheepishly.

It seemed like he had a few words of his own for you two, but it could wait apparently.

Mingyu led you over to the reserved area by the waist as you greeted guests who had also arrived. “Congratulations on your engagement you two, I wouldn’t have expected it from a mile away,” Minghao jokes.

“Wouldn’t be here without you, so we have to give you most of the credit,” You reply softly.

Minghao takes his hand in yours and looks at Mingyu with care in his eyes, he admires how well you both complement each other as a couple.

“I never expected anything further, but you two surprised me by a ton. Give yourself some credit for the connection you developed with one another, and Mingyu, if you hurt her, I won’t be as pliant,” Minghao continues, this time letting go of your hand and giving way for you and Mingyu to walk through.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mingyu gives you his signature smile, canines looking as sharp as ever, before finally letting you sit at the table that was reserved for the two of you.

The beachside hall was starting to fill up with the rest of the guests, and you kept your grip on your fiancée’s hand.

“Hey, you seem tense. Breathe a bit, we’ll just say a few words and mingle with our friends, but if you do end up feeling a bit sick just tell me and we can go back to our room,” Mingyu caresses your hand with his thumb, and you feel more at ease with his assurance.

“Sorry, it’s been a while, I still haven’t gotten used to the fact that I’m your fiancée now and not just your girlfriend. I promise to ease up a bit, and I’ll let you know if I do end up feeling a bit under the weather. Now, don’t worry about me, and let us enjoy the dinner,” You squeeze Mingyu’s hand and kiss his cheek in the process, wondering what you did to deserve him.

What you failed to realize was that Seungcheol was watching the entire interaction happen right in front of him, jealousy boiling in his veins.

Seungkwan clears his throat awkwardly, which catches the attention of Seokmin, who is sitting beside him. Seungcheol gives Seungkwan an awkward smile, realizing that he was being way too obvious with his distaste.

Joshua chuckles and taps Seungcheol’s shoulder as a sign of reassurance. “Take it slow, you still have to talk to Y/n to get all that awkwardness out the door. You’re still just as important to her you know? Again, we won’t hold it against you if you can’t take how uncomfortable it feels being here Cheol,” Joshua uttered.

“I’m fine Josh, I did choose to come here. Once this dinner is over and we can have the conversation, I can finally move on with my life,” Seungcheol sighs, noticing you and Mingyu standing up all of a sudden.

“Hi everyone, a pleasant evening to all of you! First, me and Y/n would like to extend our warmest welcome and gratitude to everyone who has made it, we cannot thank you enough for your presence.” Mingyu’s voice boomed through the hall as everyone cheered.

“Also, thank you all for coming to celebrate our engagement with us. We sadly can’t bring everyone to Italy for the wedding, so we’re here in Jeju to see you all,” You were speaking with so much happiness in your voice, Seungcheol knew right then and there that he had lost. You were happy, he couldn’t do much anymore.

Throughout the dinner, different people dedicated a toast to your engagement. Seungcheol had fun listening to both of your families and their anecdotes, along with a few friends making heartfelt speeches.

You were extremely loved, it was undeniable with the amount of praises and stories being said about you.

“I’d like to dedicate the last toast, this is for both Y/n and Mingyu, because I wouldn’t be living my best life right now without their endless support.” Seungkwan stood up and held out his wine glass, catching everyone’s attention.

“As we all know, the three of us decided to move to Italy together for a fresh start, a new change of scenery. I went with the sole intention of a vacation, though, after a month of being there, I was hooked. There was only one problem, I hadn’t found a job just yet, but Y/n and Mingyu stayed by my side. They helped me get up on my feet, they offered me a place to stay, made sure I was fed, and helped me settle in, which is something I am extremely grateful for,” Seungkwan turns over to you and Mingyu, his eyes now glossing over with tears at you stared at him worriedly, but you knew he was in good hands with Vernon beside him.

“Sorry for becoming emotional, anyways, throughout the time I lived with them, I also watched their feelings for each other unfold. Mingyu was the first one to fall, he was head over heels the moment he saw Y/n cooking in the kitchen, it was so funny because I witnessed it all. He had to debrief how he felt, and I could feel Mingyu’s sincerity, it was sweet,” Seungkwan continued, this time Vernon holding his hand for emotional support.

Everyone swooned at the revelation of Mingyu’s feelings and how they had come to be, it felt different hearing it from someone who was there every step of the way.

“Y/n fell right after, and usually this girl isn’t someone who jumps to conclusions, so she was in denial, but we both knew Mingyu’s treatment towards her changed drastically,” the audience burst out laughing, Seungkwan was on point that was for sure.

“To cut this story short, they were two idiots mindlessly pining after one another, but they finally got together after I left to grab groceries on a random afternoon. I came home and Mingyu was eating Y/n’s face off,” it was Seungkwan’s turn to laugh as he recalled that fateful day.

It was sweet coming home to see the two of you together, but he was not a huge fan of the PDA that was displayed in front of him like a platter.

“I was not!” Mingyu whined. You giggle at your fiancée, squeezing his hand and landing a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“As I was saying, I’m still so grateful to you both to this day, and I feel lucky to have been the one to help you navigate your feelings for one another. A toast to the beautiful couple and a marriage of a lifetime!” Cheers erupted once again and everyone applauded Seungkwan for his speech.

Dinner felt lighter once a few sips of alcohol were shared, and Seungcheol found himself mingling with old friends from high school that you had invited.

“I genuinely thought you would be the one over there with Y/n, but life works in mysterious ways,” a drunken Soonyoung slurred to Seungcheol.

Seokmin cringed from beside him and hit his shoulder to shut him up, but everyone knew that once Soonyoung was drunk, his mouth was relentless.

Seungcheol could only offer an awkward laugh, Soonyoung didn’t know the details of your breakup three years ago, so he couldn’t exactly blame the younger man.

“Yeah, I’m just glad he’s taking care of her. I can’t offer much now, but she’s still our friend. I have no hard feelings knowing Y/n and I are better off as friends,” he replied to Soonyoung’s drunken ramble.

“I hope you find someone soon man, you also deserve to be happy. I think Seok and I are gonna head first since we’re both starting to feel the alcohol kick in, we’ll see you tomorrow,” Seungcheol offered a smile and nodded in acknowledgment.

Everyone knew of Soonyoung’s low tolerance for alcohol, it was understandable that he decided to retire himself before any chaos ensued.

Seungcheol was left at the table with Joshua, Jihoon, and Jeonghan until Minghao approached. He settled himself into the seat beside Seungcheol, smiling and greeting everyone.

“How’s the evening? Everyone’s been leaving slowly, but you stayed. I expected you to be one of the first people to leave, no offense,” Minghao started.

“I can’t blame you, having to sit through your ex’s engagement dinner sounds rough, but it’s been three years and we grew up together. Bonds like that aren’t easily dissolved, if you get what I mean,” Seungcheol chuckled while shaking his head, taking another shot of soju that he poured for himself.

“We can all sympathize, you are a kind man Cheol. I’ve seen you as Y/n’s boyfriend before Mingyu, and you treated her well. What I want to know is, why you started pushing her away last minute. Y/n had always confided in us with your problems,” Minghao’s curiosity had gotten the best of him, but it was in your inner circle’s best interest to find out what Seungcheol’s true intentions were.

“I mean, I was insecure, scared. Y/n has a good heart, she’s the best and if I could turn back time, I would, but I ran away because she deserved better than me. I couldn’t give her the love she desperately craved, we all know about her and those rom-com books,” Seungcheol looked down at his hands.

He felt stupid, and he was stupid, but maybe it happened for a reason.

Minghao felt sympathetic, Seungcheol was afraid to tell you because you were one of the most understanding people anyone could have ever met.

You truly were swamped with attention by your peers, but Seungcheol could’ve handled his insecurity better because you were happy to offer any semblance of assurance.

“I didn’t want Y/n to bend over backward to constantly adjust to my needs because she doesn’t ask for much in return, but I ended up hurting her instead. I’m just content with the fact that Mingyu can give her the love I couldn’t,” Seungcheol’s eyes trailed over once again to yours and Mingyu’s table, only to see you whispering to each other.

You looked tired, but it seemed that Seungkwan had overheard from beside you and gestured over to where Seungcheol was seated.

You bit your lip in hesitation, and Seungcheol instantly knew what was about to take place. Minghao seems to have caught the small interaction as well, and he pats Seungcheol on the shoulder to comfort him.

You squeeze Mingyu’s hand for assurance and your fiancée smiles at you.

“You can do this Y/n, trust that it will be over before you know it. Seungkwan and I will be right here, we can go straight to our room after if you’re too overwhelmed,” Mingyu says gently, holding your hand as if it were as delicate as glass.

“I’ll be back, I love you so much, thank you for trusting me enough to do this,” You mutter just enough for Mingyu to hear.

“I trust you, vita mia,” Mingyu kisses your hand once again and you’re off to the beach outside the hall. Seungcheol didn’t even need to get confirmation as he excused himself and followed you outside.

The cold air surrounds you, along with the sound of crashing waves, feet buried in the sand as you take in the salty scent.

You hear another pair of feet shuffle behind you, and you let out a breath. “Seungcheol,” You turn around and sure enough, you see the man behind you.

“You can go ahead, I understand you’re engaged and you look happy with him. I’m here to finally close the chapter that we never ended properly, and I assure you, I have no other ulterior motives,” Seungcheol is looking at you, his eyes only holding sincerity in them.

“I’m sorry I left, I poured it all out on you right after work because of my anger, I just need to know why,” You were avoiding his gaze and playing with your engagement ring instead.

It felt stuffy, and you were opening a dam that was locked up for three years, but you prevailed for the sake of your marriage with Mingyu.

“I was dumb, I was insecure and pushed you away because I was jealous. We were both so young yet successful, but you were surrounded by so much attention, specifically by men who I couldn’t even compare a fraction to, so I started pushing you away because of the nature of the industry you were going to work in,” Seungcheol poured out his feelings, his heart aching as he recounts the number of times he constantly brought himself down whenever he saw you with men who were models or in the same industry as you.

“I know you would’ve done everything in your power to reassure me, and I also know you would never ask for much in return, but I didn’t want you to suffer because of issues I had with myself. I’m sorry for hurting you, Y/n,” tears were streaming down your face.

All this time, you thought you were the problem, that you no longer made Seungcheol happy, but in reality, he pushed you away because he felt undeserving of you.

“I thought you no longer loved me Cheol, and I am apologetic you feel that way, but that was a thing of the past. We were stupid, and I hope you know that I loved you, yet I chose to leave because I allowed myself to choose my well-being. I wish you communicated to me that you felt that way,” You were open to communication, it was normal, and if Seungcheol wasn’t such a coward back then, the two of you would’ve been fine.

“Things happen for a reason, and I still love you Y/n, but I was a coward. I knew the love I gave you wasn’t even a quarter of what you deserved, you love reading romcoms, and you’re a hopeless romantic. I wanted to give you that love and I held myself to such a high standard, but that was until I noticed that the people that surrounded you did that effortlessly, and I felt angry,” You felt your heart crack, all this time he had left you clueless, and you were now forced to take in all the pain.

“That’s all I needed to hear, I can’t believe you’d do this to me, Cheol. You left me wondering like an idiot, and what you did for me at the time was enough, but I was left a fool. Things do happen for a reason, and I’d like to leave it here. Thank you for the closure we both needed, no hard feelings at the party ok? We throw all the negative feelings away, because we grew up together, and I don’t want to lose you as a friend,” Seungcheol agreed to your arrangement.

He couldn’t afford to lose you either, and after having the conversation with you, his heart felt lighter. The confession was long overdue, but getting it out is what matters.

“No hard feelings, thank you, Y/n. I only wish for the best between you and Mingyu, I also don’t want to lose you. This is overwhelming for us both, so I’ll head first with Joshua. Congratulations once again,” You and Seungcheol smiled at each other, and you turned on your heel to run over to Mingyu, who had been waiting for you the entire time.

Seungcheol’s heart felt lighter, and even if it did hurt, he was content with even being a fragment in each other’s lives. You were in good hands now, and he could see it in the way Mingyu held you close.

© rubyuji 2024’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

[i-d-e-g-a-f]

fanfic about katara and aang’s wedding where aang reveals during his vows that he loves katara so much he gave up the avatar state for her. and katara thinks he’s being hyperbolic. but he keeps going. describing in detail how he chose her over cosmic energy. and he’d do it again. and she’s listening, absolutely horrified. thinking about the lives that could have been spared, the people who could have been saved.

[3uthym1c]

𓆩⚝𓆪 ☒ 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐀 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝! 𝘈𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘍𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘯𝘦𝘳

𓏲 ๋࣭     ࣪ ˖    ⋆ ࣪.     ˖ ࣪⭑  ˖ ࣪ ٬     ุ๋ ⸱    ִֶָ . ָ࣪   ˑ ֗⭑  ˖ ࣪ ٬     ุ๋ ⸱    ִֶָ . ָ࣪   ˑ ֗ ˖    ⋆ ࣪.     ˖ ࣪⭑      ࣪ ˖    ⋆ ࣪. ⸱    ִֶָ . ָ࣪  

Ꮺ Read before getting into your group please! THERE IS A MESSAGE FOR EVERYONE AT THE END!!!

Hey y'all, it's me and I'm back. I told y'all I don't have a PAC uploading schedule 😭. I honestly just do it whenever I feel that I have the energy and then recharge. Perhaps when I'm in my "tarot reading hibernation" I'll take free requests so stay tuned (I'll have to figure out rules for requests first 😭).

Remember that you can pick more than one and to choose what resonates and STAY HYDRATED!!! I've never done a love reading before so feedback would be very appreciated.

⋆｡° ✮ ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴏɴᴇ

For physical features I see that they have brown hair (light or dark brown). For some, your partner might have dreads, locs, or very intricate braids. Their skin may be brown or tanned (or tan easily). They have such an infectious and bright smile, it's like their whole face lights up and it's so beautiful to everyone seeing it. They're muscular, but in skinny way? I don't know how to explain it. Kind of like runners? As for their clothes or clothing style, they might wear either all black or white with a few pops of color. Like an example would be a dark t-shirt with a bright red collar thing and a necklace with a big yellow crystal.

They carry so so so much enthusiasm. Right off the bat they just bring a light very few can bring. They bring so much to people just by existing. inspiration, hope, enlightenment even? They don't even have to be extroverted they just have and give so much energy. They have so many silly little thoughts they share every now and then that seem to come out of nowhere. Their biggest character strength is gratitude. They feel so thankful for everything and everyone and they'll let you know. Oh my god pile 1 you're so lucky this person is so in love with life and will make you in love with life even more than you currently do. They will make you love being human the and feeling and tasting and dancing and experiencing that come with it. It'll have you seeing beauty in the everyday things.

Right now they're going through some really intense spiritual transformation. They need to learn to ask for help when they need it. They'll do well though. They'll find a lot of things could've been solved by just asking for help. Both you and them are at the beginning of your journeys (that doesn't mean your journey is long though), so if you guys think things are already good then I'm thinking of the phrase "universe, show me how good it can get". They're such a good cook & baker by the way. They have a lot of earth and fire placements. Extremely romantic in both the loveydovey type and the artsy sense.

When you come into their life it's very much random and unexpected. My sister just unexpectedly found an item that cleans her flute so I'll take it as a sign that you guys meet at a music / dance event or concert. Perhaps in the same class taking music lessons. Also random message: this meeting is just unavoidable, no matter what you do they'll find their way to you so don't worry. Even if you guys meet, have a conversation, and leave, you guys will keep bumping into each other. Months into your relationship, both of you will look back at this meeting as something purely magical. If they don't believe in fate or magic or some higher power, this will change their mind.

I'm also hearing, "It's so beautiful how deeply you feel." You may have been looked down on for being "overly sensitive" and "caring too much" but they very much appreciate it. Also hearing "Whatever you say, beautiful." like if you told them to do something crazy they wouldn't even question it. Literally remembered this image:

🍈 ☒ Key Words / Items / Etc: The Chariot (representing them), Ruby, the word "baroque", Soprano, Clownfish, Horses, Bells, Lemons, roses, letter S.

⋆｡° ✮ ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ

Straight dark brown or black hair, they like wearing more simple outfits most of the time with neutral colors but there will be days where they're like "screw it I'm going to dress all fancy just to go to the library". Often carries a backpack or suitcase or purse everywhere. Worst case of RBF (resting bitch face) ever, but their face is so gentle and pretty too. Maybe wears black glasses (maybe prescription maybe not). A little random but you might find that they look so hot when they're focused? Really nice hands, they might like to wear rings or gloves. Would probably let you paint their nails.

But when you get to know them they're actually goofy and sometimes they don't even know it. "Apartment complex? I find it quite simple actually." vibes. I think a lot of people don't like how confident they look and say stuff like "They think they're better than us." when they never even act like that. Warning they have so many haters and it isn't because they even did or said anything, people see them and their confident energy and assume so so SO much about them. They don't know that though, because to them it seems like they hate your S/O for no reason and they're so confused. In reality they're so soft and kind hearted.

Random thing - they might really like penguins? They have ungodly amounts of patience for everything and everyone it's mind boggling. They're either interested or uninterested in things, so if they're interested they will put their heart and soul into whatever it is. You can see it so well in their work and career, whatever it may be. Embodiment of the word "Meraki". Btw your S/O doesn't want me to "spoil any surprises" take it as you wish.

EDIT: Holy shit there was whole entire paragraph about what I'd guess is the "surprise" that somehow didn't end up in the reading when I copy / pasted it from Notion to tumblr?????

Going to add more to this, it seems that your partner is super shy and a little awkward if that makes sense? Like, if you ever have done readings about specific people, while you may not HEAR their voice, you can kind of feel the vibes of them talking? They kind of remind me of the smell after the rain (which if you're curious, no it was not raining at the time of me doing this reading).

🍈 ☒ Key Words / Items / Etc: Meraki (obviously), Cats, purple & blue, the letter R, birds visiting your backyard often, 777,

⋆｡° ✮ ᴘɪʟᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

Instead of starting with physical appearance I think I want to start off with what they're like. Right off the bat their energy is very easy to tap into (in a good way). In fact, after I was done with pile two, I kept on getting intuitive messages for two whole days on what they're like. This whole entire pile I didn't even have to draw a single card. at all. They're extremely talkative, and I wouldn't be surprised if you constantly recieved messages and signs from them. I'd imagine it would be like recieving a loud notification on your phone because honestly whatever chance they get, their higher self constantly is there checking in on you.

They have an incredible sense of humor first of all. They will never fail to make you laugh. I hope this makes sense, but they're almost like a walking four leaf clover or lucky charm. Wherever they go they just bring good luck to themselves and people around them. Perhaps their very existence is a miracle. Their birthday may be in May. This is going to sound weird and no shade to your S/O but they're the type of person you wouldn't expect to be so smart. Usually people think of smart people as like, these serious nerdy looking people, but this person is genuinely so so smart and good at talking to others.

I bet how you guys will meet is that you'll be struggling with something and they'll walk into your life and help you. They have the sort of magic of a teacher that can explain the hardest topics so easily. One of their weaknesses is that they're a little too afraid to ask help for themselves. This person isn't JUST good boy/girl/joyfriend material, but also a great spouse.

Wouldn't be surprised if they have light hair or are ginger. If they have dark hair it's probably dyed. Their hair is so fluffy and if it's long it's very nice to just run your hand in. A very comfortable style, I could imagine that they sometimes wear soft pastel colors (Blue, green, orange mostly) or neon. Hoodlies, loose clothing, handmade clothes.

🍈 ☒ Key Words / Items / Etc: Four leaf clovers, 444, cats with different colored eyes (kinda specific), spiders, random light colored yarm / wool.

⋆｡° ✮ ᴘɪʟᴇ ꜰᴏᴜʀ

Your partner is probably much taller than you. They probably have silver jewelry and long hair. They put in a LOT of effort into how they look, they always look so fashionable. They also take great care of their body too. I don't think it's to the point where they're vain though, they just take care of themselves and like dressing cool. They may have blue, green, or grey eyes.

First of all, this may come to a shock to you but your partner is very spiritual. When you meet them they'll probably have already spent years learning about and practicing their spirituality. Everyone that meets them thinks that they're mentally just wise beyond their years, and I don't mean when it comes to academics (though that might be the case). There's just something about them that makes them feel like they've been on this earth for a long long time and have witnessed many things and met many people.

They may actually be a historian, anthropologist, archivist, librarian, psychologist, or sociologist. Okay I've just been having this stuck in my head while doing this reading but I'm imagining like, a rock or statue with moss growing on it. Also I'm feeling strangely calm and warm right now. I don't know if "calm" would even describe it, it's like complete serenity.

When you meet them it might be in somewhere incredibly crowded, but it'll feel like it's just the two of you. You could maybe meet them through a friend and have a nice long night drive talking to each other. They genuinely love you. I mean obviously this is a future partner reading so of course they would, but this love runs so deep. There's not any way that I can get you to fully understand the depths of this love, so you'll just have to wait and see!

They're the type of person that makes people comfortable enough to be themselves without worrying about judgement, mostly because to be honest this person is seen as "weird" themselves. You make them love humanity, is another message I'm getting.

Also a note that I didn't even pull cards for this, it was all intuitive so usually I take it as a sign this person's energy / presence is strong and you probably receive messages and signs from their higher self a lot. Or maybe their 3d human self consciously sends positive energy your way, a sign of this is randomly feeling warm and cozy and calm for no reason. P.S. they probably think about you as much as you think about them.

ALSO!!!! PILE 4 don't stop reading it yet there's a message I got for you guys but I feel called to put it at the end separately for all of the piles!

🍈 ☒ Key Words / Items / Etc: 888, blueberry, lights that flicker for no reason, or maybe dreams where you see some sort of light floating around, rainbows, bees, Magician card, the word "arbiter"

𝕄𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝔼𝕍𝔼ℝ𝕐 ℙ𝕀𝕃𝔼!!!

I know someone (not all of you) is thinking "Nahh this sounds too good to be true", well 1. that's the magic of soul connections and love & 2. Please stop lowering your standards because it's "unrealistic" because I swear you're not asking for much from a person. You deserve something "too good to be true" bestie (And also, remember, YOU are a dream come true for them too 😭).

"Why me what's so special about me 🫤 " on god you're the type of person who asks for signs from your spirit guides and then ignores them like they're tiiiireeedddd. Real talk though, you don't know how beautiful you are to a strangers eyes because you grow accustomed to your face. You don't know how smart and amazing you are (and yes knowing a lot about a random show or book or random subject counts as being smart shhh).

You are so perfectly human you just DON'T KNOWWW. I

f you think like this (or even if you don't because we should all do this), I'm giving you homework. Make a list of everything you are grateful for yourself for doing / being, what topics and interests you have, your favorite fashion style, achievements, color, animal, your favorite song, things you have around the house that you like and why, etc.

YOU ARE AN INTERESTING PERSON!!!! If you have a good relationship with your parents / guardians or grandparents or aunts or siblings, ask them what they love about you. Get to know yourself!!! A lot of things are cool and special about you!!!!!!!!!

-Eiki

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Hi I'm back. How are you?

How about... A yandere that has had a bunch of lovers and either killed them because he got bored or broke their heart beyond repair? But them he meets the reader and something changes?

Idk it seems like a fun dea.

Yandere! Male! Player x gn! Barista! Reader

Uh ohz, here is the player 🙄 there's a little twist to the request, meowing! I hope you don't mind. (Another Greek mythos twist. Not as blatant as Hades though. Only a bit of the Greek mythos is grabbed, not all.)

I'll see to it how can we break this little man

ヘ(￣ω￣ヘ)

AND, I AM GOING TO STOP TAKING NEW YANDERE REQUESTS! But, I am going to take asks about the existing yanderes now!

Yandere! Player name: Amor

A resounding slap echoed throughout the bustling cafe, silencing the people talking to each other. The woman, tear stricken and angry, looked at the man in front of her.

"We're over!" She yelled before stomping away from the cafe, leaving the man behind.

The people started to gossip amongst each other, but one particular action by the man stunned them.

He just sat down, took out his phone, and called somebody.

"Hey, fancy meeting tonight? I just know of this nice cafe. Date, my treat."

Shameless, the people thought as he chuckled and ended the call with a lazy smirk, stirring his coffee and sipping it.

Amor. Extremely handsome man. Charming, always knew how to get the ladies.

That's what made him full of shit since being handsome is his only redeeming quality.

He's arrogant, a bastard, selfish, has a pride taller than the Eiffel tower, and a total player.

He juggles women left and right, flavor of the day, who's gonna be my girl for the morning, afternoon, and night?

Why do people flock to this man again?

Ah, because the Gods favor this bitch.

What did he do in his past life that women love this man?

Well, in his past life, he's a boring nerd.

His family loved him dearly, and wanted him to succeed in life.

So, attending academic camps, prestigious schools, goddamn Kumon? He got it all.

Awards, upon awards. He collects them like pokemon.

Did it make him interesting?

No. All he knew is academics, and no outside skill.

He's book smart, not street smart.

Poor guy wasn't even attractive. So, when he finished University in an Ivy League Uni, he's lost. He doesn't have charisma to charm employers, he doesn't have the confidence to do public work...

Well, that, and NASA already hired him.

What? He is not street smart and has a hard time finding a job himself, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have connections.

In short, he's a Nepo baby.

At least he's a genius so NASA made sure to use him thoroughly.

But, he felt... Bored.

He wanted more from this life of his.

He wanted a girlfriend for fuck's sake!

So, by some stupid and desperation he himself never thought of doing, he turned to the old gods.

The old Gods, surprised by a sudden influx of eager and desperation of faith from only one man, decided to entertain them.

"PLEASE! WHEN I DIE, MAKE ME EXTREMELY HANDSOME AND HAVE WOMEN LEFT AND RIGHT!"

Oh... That's not...

He's really superficial....

Did the Gods care though? Nah. He's really entertaining. Awakening old Gods just for... Women?

So they granted his wish.

When he died of old age (unfortunately for him.), He woke up to another wealthy and loving family. But this time, he's the son of a world renowned Kpop idol, and a Miss Universe.

"This is overkill." Amor thought to himself as his mother cradled her. "But damn, ain't I happy!"

Growing up, even as a kid, girls liked him. He felt like on the top of the world. He retained his memory, so he's practically a gifted child. No, perfect child even!

Except that he's actually a foul kid.

He became arrogant, a snob. Someone who viewed himself too highly for people.

But do his parents care?

Eh...

They spoil the kid a lot. And turn a blind eye to his lack in manners.

Again, went to prestigious Universities, to Kumon, academic camps.

Everything was a breeze for him now.

He got a job as a model immediately. He decided to not go down the academic path, but use his parents' connections once more to climb up the showbiz ladder!

He's still a Nepo baby in this life.

Well, again, his handsomeness is almost too good to be true (work of the goddess of beauty), so his model career is skyrocketing in success.

And women.

Countless of them.

He cycles through them like toilet paper. Throwing them away once he's got his fill.

Yet, people don't care.

He somehow built a reputation off of being a player. When people say that "he broke somebody's heart again!"

"Eh, what did you expect from being in a relationship with Amor?" They would say with a shake of their head and a smile.

That's how much the Gods intervened with his life.

Once he sets his eyes on someone, he 100% would get them.

Unless....

"Tsk. Where can I go now..."

Amor paced around the street, turning heads left and right as this man sculpted by the gods had a worried look on his face.

The cafe he frequents closed down, now he needs a new place to take his women to dates to.

He's about to get his phone when a flyer hit him directly on his face. With an irritated glower, he grabbed the flyer.

"ow! What the f... Oh?"

He stopped, seeing the content.

"new cafe open?"

It looks like a generic cafe. But what was interesting was that the cafe is located in an indoor garden. Like a greenhouse.

"This is interesting. Women love flowers, don't they? And a garden of all places!" He laughs, making the gods stir from the sudden new cafe they got.

They all fuzzed, saying that this would be a good place. But, the goddess of Beauty stirred. Saying she got a bad feeling about this.

"relax, nothing will happen."

And when he got inside the cafe, he immediately got shocked by the barista, you.

Has there ever been an ethereal beauty like you? Someone... Someone who rivals even the goddess of beauty herself?!

The goddess stirred again, shackles raised. She never made you, so why are you this attractive?

Then, the goddess whispered on his ear.

It's to make you fall in love with a monster. Someone ugly, a beast... Anything to get your status down! Nobody can be as beautiful as her!

Envy filled the goddess as she gave Amor arrows to hit you with.

Now, assigned with the task of making you fall in love with what the goddess call a 'monster', he sets off to your house in the middle of the night. With the help of the other Gods, he became invisible and flew on to your balcony.

With a creak, your balcony doors opened. Making him shimmy inside through the small crack.

Yet, fate tempted him as the moonlight hit your form. In a vulnerable state, your androgynous beauty is amplified. Your long eyelashes, your skin... Your figure...

Truly, your beauty rivaled the goddess. No, you were more beautiful than her.

His throat dried, eyes glazed over.

Gods, are they tempting him?

It would be a waste for you to fall in love with an ugly guy.

His fingers twitched, trying to grab the arrow.

"OW!"

He seethed, doubling over as he clutched his finger. It got pricked by the arrow.

He somehow forgot a crucial information.

'whoever the first person the pricked sees if the arrows only pricked one, they will fall in love with the first person they sees.'

And, as his eyes irritably looked at you, overwhelming love filled inside him as he gasped in the sudden influx of emotions.

He kneeled down, eyes wide.

He's rigid. All he could see is your form. Lovely and so bright.

And hid eyes softened. A dull light in it as his lips twitched into a lovesick smile.

He was already attracted to you before, and now, pricked by the arrows, he's utterly obsessed with you.

With a twitch of his hand once more, he grabbed the arrow and stabbed himself fully to the thigh.

"GAGH!"

He doubled over, gasping, twitching for air as his heart pulsed through his ears. His eyes frantically finding your sleeping form before letting out a shaky moan from the satisfaction.

It was like a drug. Everytime he sees you, he gets overwhelmed with feelings of affection.

Is this what love is about?

And before he knows it, the arrows are all used up.

It was morbid, seeing this man stabbed with so many arrows.

But his face says otherwise. Like a drugged up man, overdosed on ecstacy, he was in a drooling trance from the addictive feeling of love for you.

The arrow is effective enough by one arrow, and now this?

Well, let's just say...

"I count, right?" He shakily asked the gods. "I'm a monster, somebody who breaks women's heart left and right."

He trembled, standing up.

He walked over to you, legs unsteady as he dropped to his knees once more and planted his lips on your own.

It tasted, you tasted so sweet, divine upon his lips.

He wants more, but he can't risk waking you up.

"Goodbye, my love. See you tomorrow." Amor whispered, grabbing your hand and dragging his nose on your skin and inhaling your scent. Exhaling shakily, he stood up and flew away.

Let's say, the goddess of Beauty was really angry at him.

But her condition, a 'monster', fits him. So, what can she do?

She gritted her teeth and looked at him with hatred, yet complacency.

You're so pretty, it hurts.

"Welcome to the Psyche cafe! How may I help you-- oh hello, sir Amor! The usual?"

Amor slowly nodded, clearing his throat.

"yes. The usual."

It's been weeks since then. And he made sure to make himself a regular in the cafe. He stopped going on dates, and pulled a lot of strings to somehow burry the player accusations. He knows he can't really burry it all.

So he made (threatened) the women he dated to be positive about him.

He wants to fly on your radar, spot on the middle, so bad.

So, with the invisibility power he got from the Gods, he always followed you. Even up to your home.

At first, his heart pounded like crazy. What if he suddenly appeared? Will you be freaked out? Surprised? Will you run away--

No, you can't run away.

Like you can, anyways.

He knew of your favorite food, fashion sense, hell, your taste in men...

He slowly changed himself into the man of your dreams.

Like a persona he integrated into himself, this sudden change shocked the people. But, they welcomed this change.

"Is he in love, that's why he's changing?"

More than that.

He's making himself into the perfect boyfriend for you.

Now, all he needs is you!

"Here's your coffee, sir!" You greeted with a sweet smile that he swore he had to grab his soul from leaving his body. "Enjoy!"

He gently grabbed the coffee and as usual, gave you 200$.

"sir..." You grimaced.

"Please, just accept it." He smiles. "You've always been a pleasant person to talk to, y/n. So, just see it as a generous tip. That I frequently give."

You looked down at the bill and smiled. Warmness spreads through your chest.

"thank you s--"

You looked up, and froze from the look he's giving you.

Deep, crazed...

Obsessed.

You shivered in fear.

Sensing your eyes on him, he coughed loudly, averting his eyes before returning to the man you knew.

Or did you actually know him?

You don't even know anymore.

But hey, he gives huge tips.

"Thanks again for the coffee." Amor smiles, trying to sweep what happened under the rug as he waved at you.

He went to his usual table. Somewhere secluded, yet has a clear view of you surrounded by flowers.

He observes you. Plans on what to do next.

He knew he can't just waltz in and whisk you away. That's barbaric.

But he's not opposed to the idea though...

He smirks.

He can probably pull tons of strings for you to end up in his arms.

He loves you, don't mistake that.

But, a little bit of... Force would be good.

He's an impatient man.

Also, did he mention that he's a selfish asshole?

How about, making your life so miserable. Getting you kicked out of this cafe, your family suddenly getting a huge debt...

Something he knows you can't pay immediately.

And his family would coincidentally sponsor you by giving you a condition of marrying him!

Anything to be with you, really.

Or, just steal another arrow and hit it with you. That's also plausible.

But, the goddess is pissed with him. So that's the last resort.

He sips his coffee and crosses his long legs.

He's favored by the Gods anyways.

His eyes narrowed slightly as you interacted too amicably with your coworker. An obvious blush on the coworker's face as he got too touchy with you.

No, everyone in the cafe is enamoured with you. Your beauty too good for this world.

He gripped the handle of his cup.

But first, let's get rid of potential rivals, yes?

You are only his.

What is there to fear? He has the resources in his hands to make you his.

You didn't know yet, but your fate is already sealed, tied, and shackled to him.

You don't really have a choice.

[onlyseokmins]

$$60 billion (part 1) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: eventual smut (minors dni!), trigun!au action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, death, gore, guns, injuries, destruction, mentions of knives, weapons, violence, creepy monsters and creatures, ptsd, moral ambiguities, dark topics tbh, smoking, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, platonic (but not really) nakedness, reader is operating on a short fuse bc I believe u have to be built different for this universe, their communication is abt to be as poor as the plant life 💀 Seungcheol kinda his own warning imho, biggest apology to chan, and we all love seok sm bc he sings abt total slaughter 🙇🏻‍♀️ WC: 19.5k of 32.7k | Part 2 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I feel like the boys may seem ooc but I had a lot of fun putting this together 😌 Thank you Summer and Isa for hosting this collab and your utmost patience in me finally writing my piece! I hope everyone enjoys this and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!!

Everyone wanted Lee Seokmin. 

The cities' great militaries. Bounty hunters. Bandits on the roads. Criminals escaping death row. Prowling pirate gangs. His twin brother. You. 

Though you reckoned your "want" for him was a bit… different from others. Well, at least you hope so, goddamn it. 

You shiver. 

At first, you wanted him just like the mass majority would one day as well — dead. The deed swiftly carried out with a silver pistol aimed at his temple.

Besides, your blood-thirst began before the destruction of July. Unlike most, who angrily shake their fists at the gaping crater on the fifth moon in the spirit of pure vengeance. Yes, the tragic incident of the great city that upped the bounty dangling over his head like a noose to a sixty billion double dollars reward. But Little Ivywood was the first of many places that would end up reduced to ruins after Lee Seokmin set foot there.

Wiped off the map. Wiped from history. Wiped from existence. But never forgotten. Especially not by the small town's only known survivor — you.

Your earliest memories contain little about the events that led up to being left on the doorstep of Little Ivywood's unofficial orphanage. How could they when you were just a baby? One swaddled in a ratty cloth weighted down by a rusted pistol. There was just one simple hint to your past — scribbled nearly illegible on a torn piece of paper dotted with blood — and could only be what the nuns had to assume was your name.

At least that's how Sister Meryl relayed the tale whenever asked, her hands clasped tightly together in praise and gratitude to the Saint that delivered you to them unharmed. The irony, considering Sister Lucia always looks like she'll faint just like the day she opened the convent's side door. It wasn't an easy sight to see or recall, the image of a wailing infant mouthing on the empty muzzle of a gun.

Neither versions of your origin story could be that far off thanks to the scar marring your left hand and the gun held tightly in your right. You've had both for as long as you can remember. And as you grew and changed, so did they.

The scar shrunk and faded through the years, seemingly forgotten amongst a myriad of other markings littered across your skin. Over time, the pistol's rusted parts were repaired or replaced and soon, its shine and character returned. Restored to its former glory while forging a new beginning ahead with a different owner.

But there were two things that stayed constant throughout your years at the orphanage. The first was your birth name. Not even the nuns, who generally loved bestowing scriptural monikers as if they were granting rich titles to unnamed orphans, tried to change yours. The second was a person who you still refuse to call by his baptismal name — Chan.

He helped you, became an assistant of sorts. Originally just some snot-nosed, beanpole of a fellow orphan you didn't really pay much attention to. A scared kid who cried way too loudly even after you'd even taken the time to demonstrate that the gun was safe after he'd been the one continuously pestering to see it. Very much to Sister Constance's chagrin, since it all went down in the middle of confessional time.

But curiosity eventually overturned the initial fear.

Lucky, because by acquiring bravery, Chan could discover his innate talent for gunsmithing. Lanky, noodle arms transformed into well-formed, sinewy muscles. The soft baby skin of his hands roughened with callouses as he whittled away near the convent's underground furnace. He'd spend hours down there, returning with sweat, grime, and charcoal smudged all over his skin after melting together the random metal objects found by digging beneath the basement's unfinished floor.

The Sisters disliked dirt and grime all over the children and tracked through the doors. But it was hard to keep clean out in the middle of a sandy desert. Complaints dwindled thanks to the fellow orphans who would stop their mischief to watch Chan work. And as time passed, his shoulders broadened further, his voice began to deepen, his dark hair grew longer, and those brown eyes started to sparkle with something different from simple, fleeting passion — it was a dream.

The excitable boy would tell you all about it under the stars. Late into the nights when you searched for what had to be remnants of Earthen materials from the Big Fall, he'd chatter on and on.

"Once we're actual adults," — free from the guardianship requirement provided from the orphanage — "we're gonna leave Lil Ivywood behind and explore the great wastelands of Gunsmoke!"

You snort at the ridiculousness of such an idea. "And how do you think we'll survive?"

"Easy-peasy, I'm gonna build a bunch of guns and we're gonna end up so rich. And famous!"

"Yeah, sure. Throw a couple double dollars at the worms, I'm sure they'll let us pass with no problem."

Not one to be deterred by your eternal sarcasm, Chan shakes his head."Nah, that's where you come in. Didn't think I'd let you freeload, right?"

He stands and stretches both of his arms straight out, the ones your roommate had started to gush over. Hands clasped together like Sister Meryl's always do before prayer time and then extending both pointer fingers into a mock handgun, out into the distant sand dunes one rarely dares to stray.

"You gotta be a sharpshooter to not let my hard work go to waste!"

You lazily take aim next to him, handling the freshly restored pistol with uncharacteristic gentleness. While it might officially be yours, it's also Chan's baby.

"Mm-hm, me and my killer skills."

And then you both dissolve into laughter.

It was such a pipe dream and yet; it didn't seem utterly impossible. There were little moments you let yourself imagine it, too — just until the suns peep their heads above the horizon. There was no way you could defend yourself — let alone another person — from the dangers of the desert or it would've been something you'd attempted years ago.

But when Chan spoke of his plans under the glow of the orbiting full moons, confidently mapping an adventure through an area he's never been to or seen before, and dreamed — he easily pulled you under his spell too. It was contagious, exciting, addicting, and most of all — it could really be… possible.

An armory of grade-A weapons. The bank account overflowing with double dollars. Endless boxes of bullets and the refined skills to shoot them; you were the force to be reckoned with and a protector of those who couldn't do it for themselves.

"Do you think… we could really succeed?" you ask one night, running a finger along the familiar engravings on your gun's grip panel.

Chan's grin was as shiny as the circular metal shell he was carving into. You refuse to look his way because of how infectious it could be. Plus, the main reason it was so stinking bright was due to this being the first time you verbally entertained his ideas.

"Oh-ho-ho, doubt my capabilities?"

"Obviously."

If offended — he was not — by the instant agreement, there was no sign of it. Instead, he focused back onto his handicraft, knowing you would eventually spill your true thoughts if he was patient.

There was no rush tonight after all. A star-filled expanse of black blanketed across the sky — one he hoped would never change to blue.

"More like… it's just going to be so risky!"

"And that's why you'll be the —"

"But I've never even held a gun before!" You spot Chan pointedly direct the corner of his gaze to where your hands rest, causing you to flinch them away from the weapon and wave around haphazardly as your cheeks heat. "I mean, like, to shoot! Sister Lucia always says it'd be too dangerous."

"Sister Lucia thinks water that doesn't flow directly out of the holy grail is dangerous."

"Technically, that's true."

"Oh god, she's got you thinkin' the same, too!"

"But she'd probably rather swear by the Saint than ever let me get any bullets…" The thought alone of the devout nun saying the Savior's name in vain makes both of you smirk but yours falls just as quick as it came. "And we're going to need those if we ever want to leave Little Ivywood."

"Well —"

"And I… I'd have to kill things! People, too. I don't know if I can do that, I —"

" — Think fast!"

It's his turn to interrupt, chipper voice ever optimistic as he tosses the finished trinket your way. Thankfully, your reflexes work fast enough to catch it nimbly in time. The oval is hot to the touch after hovering over searing flames and despite its small size, weighs down your right palm as you glance over its etchings.

Satisfied, Chan takes that as his cue to walk toward the nook that shields you from the roaring heat of the furnace. Squatting down so he's eye-level with your knees, he brushes back his tangled mess of hair with one hand and taps knowingly at the barrel of the pistol with the other.

"There's no reason to kill anyone or anything."

"But this can hurt people… I could hurt people."

"You've had this ever since you were a baby and never harmed anyone with it."

"It's… it's never been loaded or…"

"Doesn't need to be. If you smacked someone with it, they'd surely feel that hit." He snickers, tone bordering on the edge of cockiness. "I would know, considering the sturdy and valuable materials used for repairs."

You roll your eyes and mutter, "Show-off," but it lacks true malice behind it.

"And even so," Chan takes one of his hands and pats the back of your free one, unintentionally right over the spot where your scar lies. "You've hurt no one before. Not even me, who annoys you the most!"

"About time you finally realized how merciful I am."

He says your name in earnest, remaining uncharacteristically serious and lays your intertwined hands on top of the gun before squeezing tightly. "Both this and you don't have to kill a single thing or person — ever — if that's not what you want to do. You can aim for non-vital points, shoot up in the air… Bullets or no bullets, just the sight of a weapon alone can be enough of a deterrent for most."

Chewing hesitantly on your lower lip, you let his words sink in and he continues.

"The fact you're aware of the hundreds of risks when handling a weapon like this means you'll be even more cautious when using it. I trust you, so trust in yourself."

Warmth spreads from your interlocked hands and through your entire body like you're wrapped in another one of his sweet hugs, culminating into tears threatening to spill past your lash line. Chan believed in you and though you'd never admit it aloud, it meant the world to you.

"When did you grow up so much?" you tease, letting out an exhale you didn't realize was being held.

"Aw, c'mon! I've been taller than you for months now!"

"Keep dreamin' if it makes you feel better."

Though Chan sasses back by sticking his tongue out, he lets you ruffle his sweaty bangs despite receiving a slightly bruised forehead in return because you forget about the new gift in your hand. Plotting an escape, he stands and pulls you up with him, joined by your clasped hands.

"We should probably head back. Sister Constance's likely gonna ask us to check the Plant before morning mass and you don't want her to catch you dozing off again."

"Last I recall, you were the one she caught napping!"

"But you have the most demerits this week."

"And whose fault is that?!"

Quick as lightning, he nudges you with enough strength to catch you off guard and destabilize your balance. Then he tears away, calling over his shoulder, "Snooze and ya lose!"

"Ugh, this is exactly why — you never play fair!"

Regathering your bearings at record speed, you dash right after Chan. The boy's raucous laughter echoes in your own lungs and you swear the stars twinkle brighter in the nighttime sky. You overtake him right before reaching the convent's door — the same one you were left on — and clutch at his arm before he can reach past to open it.

"Hey… thanks."

He grins all goofy. Chan's well aware you mean much more than that, but he opts to flick your forehead rather than give you grief over it. "Yeah, yeah. I do so much for you, you know?"

"Mm-hm."

"So it's about time to finally pick a name I can carve onto that bad boy. If you don't, I'll put mine there." He nods to your gun excitedly, then points to the oval. "Oh, and I'll make a chain for that soon. Did you decide what you'll put inside?"

"Questions, questions, demands, demands." You wave him off and open the door with a yawn. "I'll think of one. And yeah, you know that Earthen gadget we found? Gonna cut out those papers and put them in there before sleeping."

Once while digging for materials, you had stumbled across a square object that wasn't completely destroyed, unlike many others. After a few experiments of messing with the random knobs and buttons, you determined it could mimic whatever was directly in front of the clear coated lenses. And later — much to your amusement and amazement — it printed out the image on thick, shiny squares.

Fascinating little things those Earthlings created!

You'd luckily put the last few sheets left in the machine to good use. Experimenting with the surrounding scenery that blurrily featured some of Ivywood's buildings, then one of Chan, and finally wrangled a frame that captured both of you together.

"Do you think you'll be able to stabilize it?"

Your tentative question makes him look toward the large, bulbous structure that houses the Plant. The power source Little Ivywood depended upon.

He sports a cheery grin. "Won't know 'til I've tried!"

"Ever considered too much confidence might be a bad thing?"

"If you're jealous, just say so. But with you by my side, there's nothing we can't accomplish together!" He bounces excitedly on his heels. "Besides, I forgot to mention…" Beckoning you with a hand to come closer, you lean in, curious. "I've become quite the master at bargaining. There won't be a single worm who'll refuse a double dollar from the great Chan!"

"What did you do?"

"What haven't I done?"

"You're the worst. Like to ever exist."

"The absolute best, you mean 'cause there'll be no reason for you to waste any bullets or fear cutting a single lifespan short!"

"Goodnight, Chan."

"You mean 'thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Chan!' but whatever! You can make it up to me tomorrow!"

But tomorrow never came.

Or rather — daybreak arrived in the unrecognizable form of rapid gunfire and screams of terror. The buildings rattled, trembled, and shook from the onslaught just like the people cowering in fear within them.

The dust stirred up in the chapel's hall after a wall unexpectedly collapsed causes you to cough. Amidst the chaos and panic, you spare a glance over your shoulder to see Sister Meryl, who strides confidently to the altar.

She stands with poise and purpose in front of the marbled stone. Steadfast and unwavering in strength because of her faith alone, even as the grand statue of the Saint starts crumbling down with the ceiling tiles falling around it.

It's a visual you're not likely to forget, carved deep into your memory before you flee with the rest. Sister Lucia is flustered as usual, ushering everyone as fast as she can near the grand oak doors that lead out to where additional shouting can be heard and only more pandemonium must await outside.

You're struck with the damning realization.

The gods — they have completely abandoned humankind.

"That would be ten demerits any other day," Sister Constance voice abruptly snaps, "fortunately for you, now is not the time for such things."

It's astonishing how even at this moment, the nun remains on high alert for 'troublemakers'. Her sharp-nailed fingers latch around your wrist as she breezes by — much too similar to when you've been dragged off to detention. And as if that's what's happening, your heels plant firmly in the ground and obstinately tug her back a step.

"What about Sister Meryl? We can't just leave!"

"If you knew what was good for you, you'll obediently obey me. But if you knew that, you'd recognize faithfulness will guide her and the rest of us to safety."

"Nothing guarantees —"

"Those who do not devote themselves truthfully will never understand. Should the Saint deem Sister Meryl's sacrifice to be in vain, then she has failed not only the Holy Bishop and our sacred bonds, but you — one she unnecessarily dotes on — as well."

You want to argue and protest as Sister Constance yanks you forward. But the faint tremors you feel despite the tight grip of her hand and the tensed jawline of the woman whose stoic face is normally unbreakable makes you pause.

She's shaken. She's unsure. She's wavering.

Sister Constance doubts.

And something about that thrills you. Terrifyingly so.

The shock of it all is as startling as the pale sunlight blinding your eyes when the chapel's heavy doors finally get thrown open. Grains of sand swirl through Little Ivywood, diluting the usual brightness of the glowing orbs in the sky and their powerful rays.

A sandstorm brews on the horizon.

That's the least of your worries, though. Blood stains the soil where shrapnel grazed tender flesh. Fellow orphans scream and cry out from their wounds as they struggle to get away from the captors attempting to drag them to the center of town.

With a chill, you alarmingly realize who they're trying to escape from. Women in black and white robes don a wild, crazed look on their faces. The ones who have raised and cared for parentless children throughout many years and tended to every need they could within their means.

The Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood.

Sister Constance turns and you jump. Both at the horrors of the present and a reminder of how many times a quick movement of hers led to the sharp pain of a switch or ruler tearing into skin. An eerie sound of laughter rings out and your blood runs cold, eyes darting left and right for the source.

And then through the dust particles, looms the sinister silhouette of a figure in a long trench coat flapping in the wind. Spiked hair sticks straight up, retaining its menacing style despite the powerful wind gusts and emphasizing an already impressive height. You gulp, swearing there's a flash of metal followed by a fanged smirk that glints dangerously as Sister Constance tugs you closer to the terrifying shadow beast shrouded by sand swirling in the air.

A declaration of your given name — stern and cold. "Know that your purpose is being fulfilled, that you are serving the great —"

And then comes a shout of your name, this time from someone desperate and panicked. You're yanked forward and then suddenly catapulted backward, grunting at the impact of your body slamming against someone else's.

"You need to go! You need to get out of here!"

"Chan?!"

He clings to you, shifting so his back is to the nun only a few paces past the corner he dashed around for safety and to stall for time. Throwing a cautious look over his shoulder before whispering urgently, "Go! And don't look back!"

"What about you?"

"Don't mind me." The smooth leather of a satchel presses against your palm. "Get movin'!"

"But —"

"Seriously," the boy shoves you forward with a not-so-gentle push. You gape at the audacity and he waves his hand, like he's shooing away a pesky flying worm. Rude. "Please! I'll be right behind you but —"

An eruption of nearby gunfire and a series of high-pitched shing!-like noises interrupt him. He glances again over his shoulder. You cautiously step forward and his head whips back to let out a hiss.

"Chan, what's —"

"Need to grab a few more things, see if any other idiots need help. Just… just get out of town, wait for me by the rocks if it'll make you feel better." He smiles, though it doesn't make those brown eyes of his sparkle like usual. "It'll… it'll all be okay."

You're uncertain and scared. But something about Chan's speaking powers have always made you believe in the impossible. So, you nod resolutely while taking the bag from him and warn, "Promise you'll be safe."

"You hate those kinds of things."

It's true. To you, promises were only made to be broken. And yet…

"… And somehow you've changed my mind before."

The bangs of carnage draw closer. Louder.

"Fine, just go. Please! And don't look back!"

Acquiescing to his pleas, you sprint toward where he pointed. Sitting like giant sentinels lays an outcrop of boulders bordering the western edge of Little Ivywood. The desert is only two paces away, expanding outward into a desolate plain filled with the undulating slopes of dunes. Picking a sizable rock to hide behind, you keep watch for Chan, cringing at the distant sound of gunshots still rapidly being fired.

What was that? What did you see? And what did you almost get dragged into?

What was going on?

Boom!

It's an ear-shattering noise that causes even the great stones around you to tremble from the explosion. A flare of light so bright leaves you no choice but to look away to protect your eyes, ducking behind the rocks as a shield.

When you recover after it dissipates to see what just happened — Little Ivywood is no more.

It's gone.

"No…"

The tiny town reduced to only rubble and ash. What once were rows of square buildings stacked on top of each other to divert the view of a relatively flat lay of the land are now parallel to its surroundings.

"No… no… no…"

Gone.

You don't think twice about running toward the wreckage. Chan is there. Chan has to be there!

"No!"

And most importantly, he has to be alright.

Broken piles of the shoddy architecture littering the landscape prevents you from traversing too far. Bile rises in your throat as you desperately scan for a sign — any sign — for Chan. For survivors. For anyone. Even the air is still, no longer rippling with irritable heat waves and heavy gusts of wind because the blast was strong enough to ward off nature itself and the incoming sandstorm.

For now.

And during the futile search, that's when you spot him. On his knees with his back to you, slouched over in the only clear space amidst the destruction. The tattered fabric of a cerise garment hangs off the man's broad shoulders and pools around his body like a puddle of blood. Reddish-brown bangs tinged with black hang limply as his chin curls further and further into his chest.

I don't understand, you vent to yourself after a couple ungraceful vaults and stumbling through the debris to get closer. This bastard got what he wanted, did what he wanted, and won! So, why is he acting like that? Who destroyed his town? His people?

Finally, you're a couple steps behind him. Thankful, at the very least, for whatever weird state this man is in because it grants you the opportunity to approach and press the cold steel of your pistol to the side of his temple.

"Don't. Move."

You hope it comes out as the threatening command you intend it to be. There's a tense beat of silence as you wait for his next move until you realize he's doing exactly what you demanded.

Then he chuckles. A choked out, watery sort of sound. Your hands start shaking even as they press the barrel harsher against his head.

"Go ahead and shoot."

"Answer me first." Your voice becomes as unsteady as the quakes in your body and you rasp out, "Why… why'd you do it?"

His head lifts and you flinch, but he takes no further action besides staring blankly ahead at the ruins. "I wish I could tell you but… I've been asking myself the same question."

"I — you…! You wreak hell and havoc upon a whole innocent town and… and you don't even know why?!"

"Pathetic, isn't it?" The man laughs again, without a shred of humor. A gloved hand reaches up to wrap around the weapon and you momentarily falter at the force of him leaning into it. The weight pushing it closer into his skull seems hard enough to leave a nasty imprint, as if that should be a main concern right now. "I'd simply like to know how I did it."

"I —"

"Not loaded," he sighs and drops his hand, twisting around to actually get a proper look at whoever was holding him at gunpoint.

You're taken aback by the intensity of death radiating in those dark brown irises that casually observe you through amber-colored, cracked lenses. Your arms fall down, dumbfounded at the stranger's unflinching behavior, the pistol bumping into your thigh. He lets out a "tsk" and then pulls something out of his pocket.

In his opposite palm, clad in a fingerless glove unlike the left, rests a conical golden object. Though you've never seen one in real life before, you think you know what it is. The shape matches the hollow outlines when Chan disassembled the chambers of your gun.

"A cartridge," he says and you blink. "A bullet," he clarifies upon noticing your confusion. Then the man smiles encouragingly. "Go on. Take it."

You're incredulous. "You're okay with handing that over to me?"

"It's what you want, right?" There's a wistful look on his face. "This place… it was your home."

"No," you're quick to refute, shocked at such an automatic response. Then admitting, "I don't even know what a home is."

Innocent town, my ass, is what you derisively admit inward and snort at yourself.

The convent itself was far from comforting. The other orphans with their bright grins when Saint Meryl sang lullabies on the nights you couldn't sleep — those were the kinds of things that made it bearable.

Guilt.

"I — I —"

It overwhelms your senses. Rattling up your entire nervous system and settling a cruel, cruel weight in your chest. You hunch over, chest heaving, and throat burning. There's a thump as your gun falls to the ground, its silvery sharp edges becoming distorted, warped, and blurred through a film of unshed tears in your widened eyes.

"Should've… It should've —"

"Hey, hey…"

"It should've been me!"

The man rises to his full height, brushing off his clothes before crouching down. A sturdy hand grips your shoulder and dutifully encourages your gasping upper body into an upright position. Gently, ever so fragile, he bops your forehead with his and you subconsciously lean against the unexpected support.

He's near enough to ground you to something solid. But distant enough for two strangers whose first meeting is one amidst a crumbling town's travesty. With his close presence comes the scent of gun smoke, though not as bitterly pungent and putrid as you recall from before. It's subtle and smokey, reminiscent of the fire that Chan once proudly stoked in his makeshift forge.

Your body shakes as the tears finally slip free.

"All lives are equally precious, one shouldn't be sacrificed for another."

"… How can… how can you say that so… easily?"

The death-come-over look in his eyes changes to something faraway. Like he's seeing something beyond the destruction surrounding both of you. Those amber lenses don't have to be cracked to draw attention to the fracturing despair radiating behind them.

Then, he shakes his head and shrugs. "Because you should live even when those dear to you are gone. This world is made of love and peace, after all."

Your crying abruptly pauses with the natural effort it takes to let out a scoff. Ignoring your utter scorn and disbelief, the man's gaze drifts to the pistol still on the ground. The tip of a steel-toed boot kicks it up into the air with a flourish, single-handedly catching it to inspect the weapon with practiced ease.

"Live because there's a reason you survived, even if you loathe every second of it. You'll feel like you don't deserve it. But persevere because you should. Because that's what they would've wanted and you keep them alive by living yourself. A burden? Maybe. Why spend such a cursed blessing only dwelling in regret when you can do so much more?"

He offers the gun back, its handle extended in your direction.

"If nothing else, live for yourself most importantly. Help show the world the love and peace it deserves. Even if it couldn't afford to gift it to you. That's what life is all about. The ticket to the future is always blank!" Pausing, he shrugs with a regret-filled smile on his face. "At least that's what I was taught… and what I think."

"… Awfully full of optimism for some dude who wiped out a full town and doesn't even know why."

"Name's Seokmin," he returns, now sporting a cheeky grin as you cautiously reach out for the pistol. Only to be outsmarted with a literal 'sleight-of-hand' and meeting the warmth of fingers and a gloved palm instead of the expectation of hard, cold, and familiar steel.

"Huh?"

"Lee Seokmin, to be precise! And it's a pleasure to meet 'cha! Erm, despite the… terrible circumstances." Seokmin jiggles the gun in front of you with his other hand, almost taunting you to reach for it again.

You don't.

"And what do you call this lovely lady?"

"Nothing."

"A shame. But not everyone cares to name things, 'specially if they don't hold any value." He finally tosses it back and you barely manage to catch it in time with a scowl.

"Just haven't decided."

"I see! Mine's Geranium."

"Oh, like… the flower?"

He visibly perks up at that even further, a radiant smile showcasing two pointy fangs. "You've heard of it?"

"Well," you scratch your cheek, "the, uh, sisters gave a girl that name because of her hair."

There's an uncomfortable pause as the dreadful realization you'll never see those brilliant ruby locks bounce because of her excitement again settles back into your stomach. You swallow, eyes roaming the stranger in front of you for a distraction.

"Um… you must really like the color… red."

Seokmin glances down at the tatters of his scarlet clothes and shrugs. "I guess. Though the one I saw was red, I've heard they come in different colors."

"You've seen a plant? Like a plant plant? A real one! You know — that grows out of the ground and transforms and all that? It doesn't, well…"

Vegetation was a rarely discussed concept. The only thing you knew came out of the poorly written history books in the dusty library's darkest corner. In the desert outskirts, you had a better chance of finding ancient Earth technology that might still be intact to share its plethora of knowledge about the old world humans left behind than hope to find whatever resources the big cities had access to.

"Mm, yeah, a long time ago. But say," he jovially waves the cartridge from before and it glints in the setting rays of the suns. "Would you care to hear this man's story before shooting him?"

And of course, you listened. What other choice did you have, you who lost everything at once? But even back then, something small and precious was planted in the barren depths of your heart. That was just the beginning. It would continue to grow, watered and tended to under the sunny smile of Lee Seokmin — the destroyer of cities and a very wanted man across the planet.

You leave that tiny bit out during the recitation of your past to the inquisitive pastor. Though something you'll regrettably find out later is he's already got you all figured out.

Bastard.

"… So, that's how I met the infamous Lee Seokmin and didn't end up killing him," you declare with a flourish and take a satisfied gulp of cheap beer picked up from some abandoned mart along the way out of Little Jersey.

Draining another bottle dry, you toss away the metal cap, close one eye, and peer through the narrow bottleneck like it's a telescope — albeit a very poor one.

Through the distorted glass stretch endless sand dunes as far as the eye can see. Stars glitter and sparkle amid the glow of the full moons in orbit, temporarily dimmed by a puff of the roguish's man's cigarette that wafts through the inky darkness.

You wonder if he'd be willing to share one.

"A shame," Seungcheol grumbles and offers a white stick from his pocket.

You take it eagerly only to see it's nothing but — a lollipop. The hard candy's become a strange gooey consistency thanks to melting in the desert heat all day and partially re-solidifying during the nighttime's chilly air.

It's stale too.

Fucker.

You let out a disdainful sniff but nod in agreement to his statement. "It is. But he promised me something. Then his bounty increased from a meager six million to sixty billion double dollars after destroying July, putting a hole in the moon, and all that. So… following him around has paid off."

"I guess," he shrugs, "guess I don't really care 'bout yer lil meet-cute story."

You gape at the audacity. "You're the one who fuckin' asked!"

"Well… figured we could bond, ya know? Orphans 'n all that cozy, feel-good shit."

"You know, not a single thing I've said thus far coud be classified as 'cute'."

"Uh-huh."

"And I never took you to be a sentimental fool."

"Hey, now —"

You hold up a hand. "'Thou shall not bear false witness'."

"As if ya even know what that means," Seungcheol retorts and flicks the ashy cigarette stub in your direction, the cross around his neck ironically reflecting in the moonlight. "Was gonna say, if anythin', I put the mental in sentimental, sweet'art."

Well, you certainly wouldn't argue with that point. "…What I do know is that you're doing this all. For him."

"'Ol Needle Noggin, eh?"

"Well… yeah. But he's only part of a bigger picture for you."

"… 'S none o' yer business, ya know? Best to know less."

Your eyes roll. "Sure. That's why you nearly got hit by our car 'cause you wore a suit into the desert and didn't bring a drop of water. All while hauling that stupid, big-ass cross around! And then you insist on joining us — try to scam us! — but hey," you put your hands up, "none of my business."

"Wasn't tryna scam —"

"Hella shady, man... Hella. fuckin'. shady." You're shocked you can see the man's eyes roll in a begrudging defeat behind his black sunglasses — at night, no less — but you nudge him. "C'mon, just tell me! I bet it has to do with Hopeland, something… or someone back at that orphanage."

"Anyone told ya how irritatin' ya are?"

"Only the ones that are equally just as annoying!"

"Tch, woman." Seungcheol messes up the back of his black hair, mouth opening as he cracks his jaw. There's a pregnant pause. "… 'Han was… he was different. Ya wouldn't get it."

"Try me. Evidently you weren't listening very well, were you?" No surprise there. You retrieve the locket that takes refuge beneath your top, a familiar oval swinging from its long chain between the two of you. "Believe it or not, I do get it."

His eyes fixate on it like a pendulum, darting to your face, and then up to the sky. A crooked smile quirks up the corner of his mouth and he lets out a resigned sigh. "Ya really love 'im, don'tcha?"

You feel a funny sensation.

Akin to getting caught in a horde of flying worms and trying to squash down as many as you can. Your answer is hushed and Seungcheol snickers. Unbeknownst to the two of you that an additional pair of ears — assumed to be asleep — also catches your whispered reply.

"So, how much ya gonna pay for confessin'?" the pastor goads and lets out a startled yelp when you try to smash the hand-held bank he totes around that's shaped like a cathedral.

"Oh, go to hell, Choi!"

"Stare any longer and you'll no longer be needin' Sirocco." An amused snicker follows the relaxed drawl. "Bullets're 'bout to start flyin' outta those eyes 'stead of that gun o' yers."

You scowl at the dumb man seated next to you. "It's not like subtlety has ever been a strong suit of yours. But could you at least pay better attention to your surroundings?" A meager amount of golden liquid sloshes against the sides of the glass you pointedly wave around. "Or are you already too drunk to forget where we are?"

"Ain't no lightweight," Seungcheol brags with his fourth pint of the night in hand and a rapacious grin cockily tilting the empty lollipop stick in the corner of his mouth upward. "Can't say the same for the rest, though. Whiskey's stronger than a punch to the gut."

"… You would know. I'm sure it might just taste like water to some by now."

While it might initially elate most visitors to order as many rounds of the only available beverage on the menu as possible, the reality of the situation was much more grim. As if he can read your mind, the man clad in black, gray, and muted silvers flippantly reminds you of why your so-called merry band of travelers are even here.

"Needle Noggin said 'e fixed the Plant up just fine 'n dandy, so here's hopin' we get some clean bathwater t'night."

At those words, your gaze instinctively shoots back to where it focused earlier. Seungcheol snorts and drains his glass with a satisfactory sigh before poking more fun at you.

"Gonna put a hole through his head at this point."

"Not like that's anything new."

"Yeah, but rather than constantly laserin' holes through his skull, ya should be tryna convince him to fill yers up, instead. 'N not referrin' to that empty space behind yer forehead."

"I know exactly what you mean, you perverted freak."

That cracks Seungcheol up. "'N here I was thinkin' ya was gonna end up a nun servin' the Eye of Joshua!"

By now, you're well-accustomed to the hedonistic ways of the man who still keeps a leather band with a cross on it strapped across his Adam's apple, sewn into the cuffs of his black suit, and carries the hulking shape of one on his weary shoulders.

Unfazed, you fire back, "If they even let someone like you into the blessed and holy ranks, then any whore off the streets would be welcome to join."

It's a series of light-hearted jabs you both take in stride. The truth is much darker and deeper, but tonight serves as a tiny snapshot away from the normal weariness of day-to-day survival in Gunsmoke. Right now, you celebrate alongside the residents of Tonim what peace could really look like in the future.

Except you're on edge.

For a reason that's silly compared to the usual adrenaline rush of tracking down Plants nearing red status and defending the area, all the while trying to prevent the inevitable destruction and chaos to follow. Still, it's why you beckon the bartender over for another refill as a positively "tickled-pink" Seungcheol not-so-silently judges.

"Now who's staring?"

"'Kay, but's not with unbridled lust and — " He's cut off by a sharp kick to the side of his shin delivered by one of your heavy combat boots. "And feelin's," gets wheezed out before the pastor falls silent at your nasty scowl paired with Wonwoo's timely arrival.

The saloon owner and de facto authority in town approaches the two of you cautiously. It's no secret who you are, who you're with. What you do and the things that follow when you do what you do. And yet what you've done has saved the town and given its people — especially the younger folk — something that some of them have never experienced before.

Hope.

And that seems to be good enough proof for Wonwoo. Rumors may just be rumors, after all. None of you are like the reports relayed in a tinny voice through the virtually enhanced radios that are non-plant-powered — aka illustriously dubbed by their inventor as VERnons.

"… the Bloody Rain… follows… Lee… Humanoid Typhoon… armed… dangerous. Punisher… cross… machine gun… two unknown… likely… agents…. Bernardelli Insurance…"

The VERnon sitting behind the counter splutters out bits and pieces of information. He side-eyes the device awkwardly and starts fumbling with the buttons, trying to mumble over the static and monotonous voice.

"Can I pour you another drink?"

"Sure," you chuckle, pleased.

The bartender's well-intentioned efforts are fruitless which is to be expected. Only the creator, and those he personally taught, could truly modify the invention as pleased. A part of you hoped to find evidence Hansol had traveled this far but alas, he was probably still searching through the seven major cities for his beloved Milly before attempting to wander through the treacherous wastelands.

A brown, short-haired darling sneaks awe-filled glances at the two of you from the corner where a group of women around your age gather to chat. Seungcheol's the first to catch onto the admiring starry-eyed gaze and winks. Chuckling when a pudgy hand clings tighter to one of the lady's long skirt, using the fabric as a demure little shield against his effortless charisma.

You catch the tail-end of the interaction with the ghost of a smile. If there's one thing that can definitely soften Seungcheol's rough edges, it's children. You can't blame him, reminded of cheery voices and energetic footsteps pounding after your own through the convent's hallways.

The attractive woman wonders what's drawing the younger girl's attention and leans down to whisper in her ear. Gesturing in your direction, you watch as she nods encouragingly and offers a gentle smile, pushing the tiny brunette forward who readily toddles over. The gaps still waiting for pearly white teeth to grow in that shy smile on the little girl's face are endearingly winsome.

"'Lo, Wonu."

The bespectacled man starts, eyes wide as he peers over the counter and just manages to glimpse the top of her mousy brown tufts. "Is that you, Lina? You're not supposed to be here."

"Past yer bedtime, lil one?"

She huffs indignantly at the two men, hands on her hips. "I've once stayed up 'til four in the morning, mister!"

"Oh, Lina…"

"Besides, how can anyone of good standing sleep properly when there's heroes in town?"

"Huh, what a darlin' angel!"

You scoff at your comrade's words. "As if you've ever seen one."

"I do beg your pardon," Wonwoo scrambles to excuse the child's enthusiasm. "Looks like another talk is due with, uh, Sheryl."

"You're just jealous, Wonu. Sherry says they're heroes."

A chubby finger points at you and Seungcheol and the bartender clicks his tongue — partially in reproach and the other half out of embarrassment. The two of you hardly pay any attention to his reaction, seeming to not mind her boldness at all.

"That's right, sweet'art. And don'tchu forget now." In fact, a certain cross-wearing man revels in it. He rummages deep in his pocket and pulls out a lollipop with a flourish. "'N here's a lil magic gift for ya, princess."

You're one step faster, snatching it and unwrapping the candy with a quick inspection. At least it looks fresh and clean. Seungcheol snorts. Ignoring him, you crouch down and hand it to Lina with a gentle smile.

"Remember to be careful with what you take from strangers."

"I know! But you're heroes… and heroes are always good people! You would never hurt me!" Those blue-green eyes are certainly dazzling as she stares into yours, reminiscent of the clean water now filling the town's reservoir. "You're very pretty."

"That might be the highest compliment I've ever received."

"Pretty people don't hurt anyone either! Sherry's super pretty and she's the gentlest I know!"

A very pretty pastor himself snickers for multiple reasons. Meanwhile, Wonwoo laments with a tired sigh, "Dunno what that crazy woman's been teaching her, I swear…"

"You're not supposed to talk about people you like like that, Wonu!" Lina gives them both the stink eye but returns her attention to focus solely on you — Tonim's loveliest savior in her teal-eyed view. "Will I grow up to be as pretty as you?"

Ah, how your heart aches.

"Even prettier."

"I…" She gnaws on her lip, as if it does anything to hide how much her pleased grin glows. "I wanna be a hero, too!"

"Don't see why you wouldn't become one." To you, she already is — in all her innocent radiance and glory.

"Gotta grow big 'n strong first, missy."

"I am strong!"

"Don't doubt it. But wait 'til yer at least twice my age 'fore ya go swingin' at thugs."

She wrinkles her nose. "I'll be in the grave like Grammy if I wait that long, old man!"

Seungcheol guffaws at her unexpected remark and you hear the bartender beg, "Lina, please!" But you focus on all the brilliance in front of you — from precious unkempt locks to blue eyes full of fire and finally to the worn out, dust-covered shoes.

"Hopefully you'll never need a reason to be the hero, though. It's our duty to keep that from happening."

There's too much hidden meaning and brutal experience in your words for her to fully understand. The lull gives a certain pastor an opportunity to sidle back into the conversation, ready to get up to no good as always.

"Ya wanna meet the hero of all heroes, darlin'?"

"Choi —"

"Yeah!" Lina claps ecstatically.

"Go 'head 'n give 'er yer second key," he coaxes quietly with a shit-eating smirk.

"I swear!"

"C'mon… never like keepin' such a sweet gal waitin'!"

After a minute's hesitation, you begrudgingly agree and take it out.

"Thank ya. Now, got a lil mission for ya, Miss Hero-in-the-Makin'."

"Really?!"

Barely able to conceal her exuberance, she reverently takes the key like it's actual gold and not simply plated. Seungcheol ruffles her hair affectionately.

"Y'see the man in all purple?"

"Mhm, yeah! The one that looks like the night sky?"

"Yeah, give 'im it. Make sure to say it's from this pretty lady."

"Choi!"

"Talk to 'im too 'cause he'll love that. He's a real hero, y'know? Truest of 'em all."

"Yes, sir!"

"Attagirl."

Lina scurries off and you turn back to the counter with a sour glare directed at Seungcheol. "What was that all about?"

"Dunno, cute?"

"I'm really sorry about that all," Wonwoo apologetically interrupts with the offer of another refill which is readily accepted. "She… she's very excitable."

"No need for apologizin', man."

"Yeah, she's adorable. Is she yours?"

The bespectacled bartender stutters, almost dropping the glass he's handing to you. "That's, uh, that's my sister!"

"Ah, makes sense! Didn't mean to assume."

He flushes and turns away. But not without mumbling something about it being okay and your comrade groans.

"Reminder — ya get too drunk, 'm not dealin' with ya ass."

"Great, I don't want you near my ass."

"'S not what I meant!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Seungcheol downs another shot and you're quick to follow his lead once Wonwoo hands over another refill per your shared request. However, this time, the stoic man surprisingly lingers and awkwardly fiddles with his wire-rimmed frames, doing his very best to not let his eyes wander your scantily clad figure as your head tilts back to swallow the burning alcohol.

Meanwhile, the pastor's grin turns wolfish.

"So, uh, who are you, really?"

"Curious, eh?" You lean comfortably onto the counter, braced by your forearms and an alluring smile on your face for the handsome saloon owner. His gaze drifts down to your scar-covered hands which also happen to be placed conveniently underneath your breasts.

You'd once said the best disguise and toughest armor was none at all. And why not flaunt your assets — literally — and put them to good use. The desert is hot anyways!

Seungcheol and Seungkwan both called bullshit. Mingyu applauded you and waved his "I respect women's rights, wrongs, and all the above no matter what!" flag. Seokmin — already used to your behavior and attire — had nothing else to say other than his normal quips of, "As long as you're comfortable".

"Well, a-a beautiful woman like yourself has to have everyone wondering."

And you laughed in the face of your haters every time it worked.

"Just a bounty hunter."

Wonwoo nods at the casual answer, recalling the holster strapped around the plush of your thigh beneath short denim shorts. "Where from?"

"Well… around. My hometown was destroyed so…"

"Oh? Same here."

"Ah, camaraderie." You jab a thumb menacingly in the direction of the purple-cloaked figure and the life of tonight's celebration, currently animatedly chattering to Lina. "That's why I'm turning him in."

"He's…?"

"Yup, Lee Seokmin. Yes," you confirm with a smirk at the way Wonwoo's eyes bug out behind his glasses, "that one — the infamous humanoid typhoon. Don't worry, he won't hurt anything or anyone here."

"He's… uh, he's not quite what I expected."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"You must be pretty badass to reign him in. Heard he's giving what's left of the July regime officers a run for their double dollars."

"For sure. But it's thanks to the other two drunkards, really. Believe it or not, they're Bernardelli insurance agents. Raven-haired one's Seungkwan and the tall one is Mingyu. They're helping to monitor that whopping bounty of mine and prevent any more disasters from happening. Heard I might get a bump in value if I bring him in alive."

"Oh, well, it looks like it's working. And he seems… willing? To come with you?"

"The irony. Always been quite blasé about facing his doom."

"He's really a Plant engineer, too?"

"Of sorts," you huff at his visible confusion but wave your empty glass. "Can I get another?"

He's more than happy to accommodate and returns with two, sliding one over to Seungcheol with a cautious look at the person who seems the closest to you. "And this is…?"

"Pastor. Pleased to meet'cha."

"Oh! Really?"

"A surprising addition to the mix, yeah. But everyone needs to, like, pray sometimes." And under your breath, low enough so only a certain man can hear, "no matter how sketchy they are."

"Do you, hm, officiate weddings?"

The one in question quirks a thick eyebrow. "Ya lookin' to get hitched, boy?"

"M-maybe."

And Seungcheol feels wholly compelled to bless him silently from the bottom of his blackened heart with full sincerity, seeing as how the bespectacled man timidly peeks your way before his gaze darts elsewhere. "Sorry lad, charge 'bout a thousand double dollars minimum."

While the solitary bartender crashes back into the sad reality of capitalism, you jab your elbow into the pastor's ribcage. "Fuckin' scammer."

"Only the best of the best! Ya know, sixty billion's still on the table — 'n it better be callin' my name."

"No one even has sixty billion double dollars!"

"We have 'im." And he points back to where hoots and hollers erupt from the center table of the saloon.

Lina's returned to the woman she was with earlier — presumably her beloved Sherry — but that doesn't mean Seokmin's alone. There's so much disdain in your side-eye, spotting the busty violet-haired sweetheart his arm wraps around. After all, he's the worst kind of ladykiller.

And by that, you mean he absolutely sucks at flirting and can't get or keep a partner to save his life. Yet you're constantly stuck witnessing women, men, and attractive people of all kinds throw themselves at the good-looking man until he opens his mouth and they're put off by his clear lack of suaveness or strange little idiosyncrasies.

"Stop with the stupid bet, it's not happening. Nobody's going to be winning a thing."

"It's called usin' the damn 'magination, darlin'!"

"Which means you need to get better hobbies. You've corrupted my friends!"

"Hah! Them fools were already too invested in this 'fore I ever came along."

"Fill me up again?"

Intent on ignoring Seungcheol, you belatedly realize how aggressive your request comes across. You're also eager for something to help soothe ache in your chest. It comes and goes like a bad toothache — manageable enough to forget about the pain until it returns tenfold.

Thankfully, Wonwoo meekly complies with the back tips of his ears tinged red and Seungcheol barely manages to hide his extreme amount of mirth for the situation behind another glass. In the dim lighting, at certain angles, and with another shot of whiskey settling into your system, you conclude that the handsome saloon owner could certainly pass as Seokmin's brother and vice versa.

But you know the truth.

Familiar with the one who's all too identical to the infamous gunslinger, yet entirely different altogether. Irritation flares in your gut, prickling harsh enough that even the burn of alcohol fails to drown it out.

"I'm turning in for the night."

"Smartin' idea."

"Don't get too smashed."

"You should get smashed."

"Bye, Choi."

Tipsiness is a great excuse to bump purposely into him as you get off the stool. It's only thanks to his genetically enhanced metabolism that the pastor's able to stay upright. He grumbles something that's likely insulting, but standing upright causes you to realize you drank way too much. Everything spins or sways, including your body as you stumble up the stairs.

Somehow, you safely make it to the second level. Above the saloon is a hallway of small bedrooms that Wonwoo generously loans out to routine drunkards or stray travelers. It takes a few minutes of fumbling around but you finally find the lock that matches the first of its paired key and tumble face-first into (thankfully clean) bedsheets.

A hazy mix of drifting in and out of consciousness follows. It's not until the door clicks and there's an ominous creak of floorboards followed by a noticeable presence creeping up at your side that fully rouses you from the feverish dreams of gunfire, explosions, and loss that still plague your mind to this day.

You roll over, intending to assume both an offensive and defensive position against the nighttime visitor, but a hand lands on your shoulder before you can. Still sluggish, there's no way you could ever hope to outmatch the humanoid typhoon, even at your best.

"Hey, you."

It takes a bit for your eyes to adjust to the darkness after hearing his voice — and then there he is. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Seokmin greets you with a fond, megawatt grin. The thumb of his cybernetic prosthesis gently traces little circles over your bare skin. There's a faint hum and glow from its advanced tech mechanics, paired with moonbeams from the window, casting off an ethereal radiance.

"So, you're staying here tonight?"

"But of course, isn't that why you sent such a cute little cherub my way?"

Ah, Lina. You unwittingly smile, remembering how joyful she was to accomplish her mission.

Then your eyes close, nose wrinkling at the copious stench of mixed perfumes and alcohol he brought in and refusing to acknowledge what he says.

"You hella reek."

"Says the one who drank over seven shots."

"… That preacher's a fuckin' tattler. And a liar. And a total scammer. Don't fall for him, Seok."

"Now, what makes you think Seungcheol told me, hm?" He leans down almost nose-to-nose, enough to make yours scrunch even more at the buzzing feeling of how near he is. Your eyes open to squint at him and he winks. "Silly boy tried to mess with god again and max out his intake. Spoiler alert, he failed. Mingyu dragged him back to his room."

"You're the only one I know who can call Choi a 'silly boy'."

"'Cause that's what he is."

"And you need to stop acting like my babysitter!"

You shift away from his gorgeous face and he leans back to give you space, sporting a smug grin. "Then who would take care of you, mayfly?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Be nice to me and maybe I won't keep count on how many glasses you down next time," he teases. "But since I'm so kind and forgiving, would you like a nice, warm, relaxing bath?"

Well, it did sound wonderful. TMI, but cleanliness was a luxury when traveling the desert. Even more so when the places you arrived at had Plant issues. Luckily, Seokmin was more than capable of fixing them but even then, circumstances varied. Especially around the one known across Gunsmoke as mankind's first localized human disaster.

"Only if you get one, too."

It slips from your mouth without a thought. But you might as well have told Seokmin you'd gotten him a box full of doughnuts with how delightedly he clasps his hands together.

"As you wish, m'lady!"

And he treats you like one, scooping you up into his arms in a princess-style carry. At least tonight you're more willing to let him do as he wishes, especially when he discards the perfume-infused outerwear. Whiskey, sleepiness, and the smooth material of his undershirt keep you pliant and cuddly well after he'd snatched you off the bed.

Seokmin's already ten times stronger than even a human like Mingyu and his prosthesis only helps take further advantage of that fact. He easily deposits you on the edge of the tub. Normal routine would require untying the tight laces on your combat boots but since you'd kicked them off prior to resting, he skips to the next step.

Deft fingers make quick work unbuttoning your shorts, the prosthetic digits of his left hand then moving to loosen the straps that keep your top on. His other hand holds them together in a pseudo-knot to keep the material in place.

Honoring a sense of modesty, you suppose — even though you've seen each other unclothed before. But you melt into the secure press of his palm paired with the support of his chest against your back as he leans over to turn on the water.

"Let me know if it's a good temperature."

"M'kay."

"You're so agreeable when drunk!"

"And you're still just as annoying."

"Okay, okay," he relents. Amicably even.

Seokmin never enjoys butting heads like Seungcheol constantly does. Although another "mayfly," gets tacked on to the end of his playful yield in a mischievous tone because if there is one thing, it's that he can never tease you enough.

Brown eyes quietly trace the ink and scars that mark your skin, some disappearing or completely hidden beneath the parts that are covered. Finally, they land on the silver chain around your neck, only a breadth away from the tip of his fingers that suddenly twitch at how soft you feel beneath the calloused roughness of his own skin.

You let out a little sigh and it shakes him from his reverie, noticing the tub's filled up past your calves. Guiding one of your hands to where the locket lies beneath your clothes covering your chest, he stands. "Call me if you need anything or just want help getting out, m'lady."

"'Kay."

You're already stripping bare but Seokmin breezes out the door before you can blink. You sigh again and slip into the hot water, enjoying a soak to ease the heaviness you feel.

It's hard to understand this emotional turmoil. Knowing that you don't enjoy feeling this way, you make a false promise to not drink ever again, staying submerged in the water until your fingers wrinkle.

Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you didn't. There's a bathrobe laid on the sink when you're ready to get out that you don't remember from before but who knows. Who cares? It's cozy and you haven't felt this clean in a while.

"All yours," you lazily declare, stepping into the bedroom.

Seokmin perks up from where he casually sits cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with Geranium. A dopey smile lights up his face, gaze moving from the hefty nickel revolver and zoning in on you.

"All mine?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he repeats quieter, more to himself, "all mine…" But when you unconsciously shiver, his eyes flash and brows furrow. "C'mere, I warmed the bed up for you."

"Aren't you going to bathe?"

"Yep, so don't miss me too much, my dear mayfly!"

He accompanies it with a saucy wink and saunters into the bathroom, humming. You find yourself in a bit of a daze, head and cheeks holding onto the heat of the steam from your bath (and more). You change into a light tank and cotton shorts before sitting back down. As promised, where Seokmin rested was indeed warm and smells of faint gun smoke that always brings back memories.

"Total slaughter…!"

Splash!

"… Total slaughter…"

Splash!

"I won't leave… a single man alive."

Splash! Splash!

"La de da de dai~," echoes from the bathroom. "Genocide…"

Splash.

"La de da de duh," splash, splash, splash, "an ocean… of blood."

"Let's begin… the killing time."

Seokmin possessed a lovely melodic voice no matter how nonsensical or gruesome the words he sang. Your eyes close with relaxation as he continues into a different tune. Though the lyrics are definitely more hopeful this time, there's a heavy sense of underlying desolation despite the rapid, upbeat tone.

"So…" splash, "on the first evening," splash, "a pebble from somewhere out of nowhere drops upon the dreaming world…"

You think back to how he silently cried when he thought no one was looking after a young stowaway on the sandsteamer broke into the same nostalgic song. Your heart aches in empathy for the woman whose heroic sacrifice saved humankind but left behind irreparable damage to twins she adored.

Rem Saverem.

She was to Seokmin as what Saint Meryl was to you. But your fondness for the nun who dared to favor one random orphan above the other equally ordinary ones with an unprecedented amount of kindness paled in comparison to the devotion Seokmin exhibited for Rem. Her kindness, hope, and love for and of life didn't simply become Seokmin's philosophies — they were a true part of every fiber, woven into his very being.

He was peculiar. Hardheaded — or in Seungkwan's affectionate term: a hardass — when it came to nonviolence. A true pacifist. Even when enemies held him at gunpoint, allies turned their backs on him, and his choice to always save was at the very cost of his well being… Seokmin would choose to tear himself apart limb by limb before ever causing damage or letting harm come to another.

And even if he always chose the world and those living in it first before anything else, that's what you loved the most about him.

"What's got you making that face?"

You're quick to school whatever expression it might be. Your tongue feels fuzzy. You purse your lips as he lumbers closer, freshly dressed in a comfy white long-sleeved shirt and black sweats.

"What face?"

"You know, the one where something's weighing on your mind."

The bed frame dips and squeaks when he flops down to snuggle against you. Still-damp, reddish-brown bangs lay across your shoulder and dampen your skin. The chilled press of the gold hoop in his left earlobe raises bumps wherever it touches as he endearingly nuzzles you.

"There is."

"Tell me."

"You need to dry your hair properly."

"Do it for me."

"… This is on purpose, isn't it?"

Nevertheless, you take the unused towel around his neck and vigorously rub at his head. No complaints or protests defending his honor come from Seokmin. Just the usual little trills of contentment escape as he leans into your touch. Once you're satisfied the job's done well, he plucks the towel from your hands and you fix him with a stern look.

"Well, Seok? You gonna answer me?"

He curls in on his lanky frame, enough so to find room to plop his head pitifully onto your thighs and nuzzle the bare skin with his nose. "Not if you won't answer me first."

"You."

"Hm?"

"Was… thinking about you."

"Oh, really? Dreaming about how cool, dashing, handsome, and awesome I am?"

"… Yeah. I like you."

He chuckles, closing his eyes. More so at the feeling of your fingers idly playing with his strands of hair than seriously taking what you say. "I like you, too!"

"No, I mean," you jostle him harshly as you shift anxiously, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "Something's wrong with me."

"… Mhm yeah, you've been drinking."

"Goddamnit, Seok… that was like hours ago! But… what if… what if I'm in love with you?"

Your fingers retract like you've been caught red-handed stealing Mingyu's pudding and a millisecond later, Seokmin's head flies off your lap as he sits up to stare incredulously at you and can only gasp out one word, "What?"

It comes out more like a statement than a question. You've seen all kinds of emotions appear in those clear brown eyes of his. Emptiness. Excitement. Happiness. Fear. Loneliness. Mysteriousness. Pain. But now, you can hardly make sense of what turmoil is swimming in those murky depths.

"There's no way," he shakes his head — laughter high and brittle. "Fake", is what Seungcheol occasionally points out whenever he spies the gunslinger's smile. You've never believed him until now. "You're drunk."

Seokmin's been hurt before and you know that. It's why you wish for him to be nothing but happy, that there's some truth to the joy he constantly tries to radiate. Hoping some parts are really healing, that he's giving time to let the bloody wounds coagulate — if even just a little.

"It's me. I mean, I'm the one that's drunk," he reiterates, shaking his head.

"Why are you acting like that?"

"… Like what?"

Perhaps you were too hopeful.

"Like I'm making some sort of mistake. Like I'm wrong about this. About us."

And still under the influence of the too-damn-strong alcohol.

"It's… none of that, it's just…"

"You think I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, do you?" he fires back rather harshly, "'cause you're still wearing that thing and —"

You wince as his voice breaks off, palm instinctively flying to where the locket rests. "What the hell does that have to do with anything right now? I thought we were over this! Years ago!"

"Maybe you were since you continue to stubbornly follow me everywhere!"

"I'm not the only one!"

"Yeah, 'cause no one ever listens to me!"

"I always listen to you, Seok. Even if the words that come out of your mouth don't match how you actually feel —"

"You don't know how I feel!"

Silence.

Seokmin's chest heaves, wide eyes taking in how you immediately freeze. That look, oh, that look on your face could kill him and his body moves on auto-pilot to stand, directing his gaze to stare daggers into the floorboards. Begging them to rip off like a bandaid and shield him from your wrath.

The wood beneath his feet groans, shaking ever the slightest.

"You're right. How dare I?"

"Wait, mayfly… I —" he switches gears with a plea of your given name.

"And obviously, you have no fuckin' idea how I feel." Now it's your turn to let out a disingenuous chuckle, fake humor cracking under the pressure of sadness it's struggling to mask. "You think all I'm after is revenge more than the actual thought even crosses my mind. You put on this show that nothing bothers you, make assumptions that no one can keep up with you, that you can do it all on your own."

"No, that's not… that's not what I meant! You know how dangerous —"

You stumble ungracefully off the bed, flinching away when Seokmin's words break off as he automatically reaches out. For you. To support and for support.

Yet, it hurts all the more.

"But what do I even know? How can I, when you keep everyone at arm's length? It's like… it's like I don't even know who you are! Like you're someone else, someone I'll never get to understand…"

To others, it might not make sense, possibly the dumbest thing you could say — especially with the state you're in. But you know Seokmin, a fact he's subconsciously taken comfort in.

But you also know Seokmin. Which means you know the exact place to hit him where it hurts the most.

And suddenly, those words you say propel him back into a moment from the past, body free-falling in the sky.

Yelling. Crying. Screaming. Pleading.

Begging that exact phrase and being demanded of the same accusation. All from the one who's falling with him. Whose face mirrors his own, but couldn't be more different in that crucial and devastating moment.

His brother. His twin. His other half who was once his everything — now a total stranger from the person he thought he knew.

A fifty-year-old reunion that should've been a reconciliation, turned into a doomsday.

And for you, the once simple toothache pain is now overwhelming your full body and you refuse to let him see how it's dampened your cheeks. Especially when you hear the pained whisper of the name that escapes his mouth when you're the one that triggered those awful memories. Staggering to the door, you yank it open and he instinctually takes a step forward.

Don't leave me.

You hear the unspoken plea as clearly as if spoken aloud.

"Don't follow me," is what you hiss out instead, and just like when you first met, Seokmin obeys.

When Seungkwan makes room arrangements — if there is enough money to spare when needed and the options are available — he books everyone their own private space. More often than not though, he and Mingyu share a room and so do you and Seokmin.

Out of everyone in the group, you're the only one who is used to putting up with Seokmin's idiosyncrasies and the constant white noise of the cybernetic prosthetics's technology. You've rarely paid mind to having your own space unless Seokmin gets in one of those rare 150-year-old moods and wants some time by himself. Rare in nature, because he doesn't enjoy being left alone with his thoughts that threaten to consume him.

But he'll have to make due tonight. For the first time, you're extremely grateful for Seungkwan's pro-activeness.

You lock the door, crawl into a fresh cold bed, and wet a new pillow — one that lacks the comforting scent of gun smoke — with unshed tears.

For all his short-tempered and sassy mannerisms, Seungkwan is quite the worrywart. When the suns have peeked past the horizon and you're not already downstairs bullying Seungcheol, he's immediately knocking at your door and inquiring about your well-being. You assure him you're just hungover and he reluctantly leaves you be, likely picking up on how terrible you really do sound.

By high noon, Mingyu raps on the door next. He even sweetly offers to share his prized pudding in the hopes that you'll peek your head out. Though you appreciate it, you send him away, too — after reassuring the sensitive man you'll feel better after some rest.

Seungcheol doesn't miss the chance to be annoying times ten. He doesn't indulge in the effort of knocking, opting to make the floorboards squeal by pacing back and forth in front of the door. All the while, muttering this and that about "yer boy's like a pathetic dog and blah, blah, blah" until getting very kindly told to "fuck off!" and dragged back downstairs by a certain raven-haired insurance agent.

Even Seokmin checks in. Four times.

Once and then twice after you'd left and he'd figured out which room was yours. Then two more visits throughout the following day. He doesn't exactly make his presence known — but you know he knows you know he's out there.

If not by the distinct gait you've picked up on listening for after all this time, then by the hesitant thuds of combat boots lingering outside your door. Lost technology whirring with the action it takes to make a fist with his left hand, raising it up to the door and then back down again in self-inflicted defeat.

You refuse to see anyone, choosing to pity yourself first. Wallowing in your feelings and then sleeping as much of the heartache — and more so the hangover — away.

When the moons are visible in accordance to their nightly orbit, you get up to fuss with the mini VERnon in the room's corner. Nothing but static greets you. At the very least, the white noise is better than complete silence. By the time it's morning, you slowly awaken to the virtually enhanced radio trying to catch onto a faint signal. Enough to report the latest news in snippets with its mechanical voice.

"Beast… reported… Tonim town… !"

Your eyes fly open. Now is not the time to be wasting away. Donning a clean set of attire similar to what you wore into town — and with Sirocco strapped comfortingly to your thigh — you descend downstairs.

"Good morning!" Mingyu cheerfully greets with a delighted shout of your name and eagerly waves you over to sit next to him, waving around a promised cup of pudding. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, thanks. Sorry about that, whiskey here sure is strong."

"'S one helluva killer," Seungcheol sulks across from you, still sporting a massive headache and looking worse than that one time Seungkwan hit him with the car.

"You're just weak."

"Wha'zat say 'bout you?"

"Since I can equally acknowledge both my strengths and weaknesses, that makes me infinitely stronger than you'll ever be."

Seungkwan wordlessly hands you a bowl and you graciously accept it. Next to the pastor sits Seokmin, unnaturally quiet. You don't even spare him a glance even though brown eyes burn into the side of your face until you glare his way.

The stack of doughnuts on the plate in front of him remain untouched — minus the smudged icing on one that was likely from Seungcheol trying to swipe it. Evidently, Seokmin was in low spirits if he didn't want to consume his favorite desserts. But, he is still prideful enough to prevent anyone else from snatching the prized delicacy.

How typical.

An awkwardness ensues, charged with an underlying current of tension. A vein forms in Seungkwan's forehead from his blood pressure rising.

Its pulse matches the twitch in the corner of his fake smile as he attempts to make conversation, to which Mingyu — oblivious and happy-go-lucky as ever, bless his heart — replies enthusiastically. Seungcheol stares listlessly into space, twirling a lollipop around and around with his tongue. Next to him is a soul acting like a thunderstorm's personally pouring over him. Seokmin starts pitifully poking at his grand doughnut pile while you ferociously tear into a piece of bread like it's the last supper before swallowing.

"Soonyoung's coming."

Your unexpected, but welcomed, interruption ironically pauses Seungkwan's second diatribe about Hansol's calamitous ingenuity. If possible, the apprehension in the room intensifies tenfold.

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. "How'd you hear?"

"Tuned the VERnon last night."

"'Course you did."

"Something about the Beast and Tonim came through. Not for sure but…"

"It never hurts to be too prepared!"

"True, 'Gyu. 'N if Soonyoungie's gonna be there, ya know what that likely means…"

You nod in understanding at Seungcheol's implication. "The Crimsonnail."

Seokmin's jaw clenches at the name but it's the disgruntled pastor who continues speaking after a hearty and loud gulp of water. "'Course the Eye of Joshua's gonna send their best two. Soonyoungie's Hoon's eyes 'n ears for these kinda things."

"Or… it could be Jeonghan."

Your noncommittal remark receives Seungcheol's scathing glower. "Bet."

"It wouldn't be the first time," you shrug.

"There haven't been any notable disturbances and the ground's been stable. So hopefully their only goal is to simply antagonize us further."

Antagonize.

A funny word for such a twisted coin game between a hunter and the hunted. You can't and don't blame the younger Bernardelli agent — only you were privy to most of the true horrors Seokmin dealt with behind the scenes, Seungcheol a close second. And because of that, you were usually the one at his side before an encounter with Jihoon and the ever lingering threat and terror of said man's monstrous power.

But today, you get up from the table without so much as a glance in his direction. Only a parting command of "Let's regroup near the entrance at high noon," while Seungkwan and Mingyu exchange looks of minor distress.

The black-haired man in his hangover blues obnoxiously blows a raspberry as you leave.

Later, there are two solid knocks on the door as you get ready. You know who it is before the door swings open after your agreeable hum to enter. Many may be intimidated at the sight of the silver weapon in your gloved hands. Seungkwan and Mingyu make up half of the quartet who aren't.

They take a seat on the bed as you purse your lips at the reflection in the dusty mirror. Then you fuss with the strap for your gun. Satisfyingly re-securing it around your thigh before throwing a carmine trench coat over tight kevlar that covers almost every inch of skin possible.

"Surprised you didn't dye everything else black during a fit of rage."

Your lips curl upwards. "How on Gunsmoke would I manage that?"

"With the way you're acting, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…' or so the saying goes."

"Really, 'Kwan?"

"I'm an avid supporter of women's rights and especially their wrongs."

"Sure you are."

"You would absolutely look dashing!"

"Thanks, Mingyu. Should've given my color scheme a little more consideration."

"But then you wouldn't have achieved such an infamous moniker. I mean, okay. Maybe the black plague killed tons of Earthlings eons ago but it doesn't have the same ring as 'Sirocco, the bloody rain that follows after the humanoid typhoon'…"

Seungkwan allegedly graduated at the top of his class, leave it to him to spew out all kinds of random facts that you know nothing about. You huff and adjust the brim of the large hat atop your head.

"All that does is make me cringe."

"Uh-huh, so what's making him act like that?"

"Who's acting like what?"

"Fine, keep playing dumb. Did you reject Seokmin or something?"

Mingyu gasps. Dramatically. Hands on cheeks and mouth open in a wide 'o' shape, puppy-dog eyes glistening with despair.

"There's no way!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, nothing happened so don't think you're gonna wheedle out of me whether you're going to win that stupid bet you two have going with Choi."

"Eh, don't worry. I've been out of the running for a while now, unfortunately."

"The hell did you even throw for?"

He shoots you a deadpan look. "Guess who's aged eighty years watching the two of you dance around each other like dumbasses? Could've sworn you'd be married with a toma farm or a dozen little children by now."

"It's your own damn fault for falling victim to that pastor's salacious schemes. And it's not even remotely like that, so…"

"Someone just doesn't wanna give in."

You stomp your foot, frustration boiling over. "Ugh, I'm never drinking again!"

"Wait… No fucking way…!"

"Literally shut up, Boo."

"I mean Choi did bet you'd confess and you know… get intimate afterwards… if you were drunk so…"

"Oh, so that's why he was so damn pushy last night."

"Dirty cheater."

"You expect anything less from someone like him?"

A sigh. "No."

It's a well-known fact that Seungcheol would rather stoke the flames of hell than ever needlessly dabble with holy water as one might be expected to with his chosen career.

"But judging by both of your moods, evidently nothing happened." The raven-haired man really has the gall to look disappointed that no one won yet pleased Seungcheol didn't, and the gall to point out the obvious. "Anyways, what did you bet on, Mingyu?"

"Don't recall!"

"Figures." Seungkwan's face falls flat against his palm with a groan before dragging it wearily down his face. "Whatever, it's not like it's that serious. Seriously," he adds on, feeling the burn of your perpetual glower. "Don't let it weigh on your mind. We need you fully focused."

"And when have I ever been less than what's expected of me?" You hold up a hand. "Wait! Don't answer. But really, worry more about that idiot."

"Aw, see? You still care!"

"… About that sixty billion bounty, Mingyu? Yeah."

"Sure you do."

"And truthfully, I was talking about Choi, 'Kwan."

"Well, both of them always get into those zany headspaces!"

You shrug at the tall man's truthfulness. "They're both holding a lot of trauma and baggage."

"And you aren't?" Seungkwan snorts with sarcasm dripping from the dig.

"At least mine's manageable. And… hasn't threatened your lives yet."

"As far as we know."

"In fact, I think I've saved your 'so-very-untraumatized' lives more often than not. Stay with me and you'll both be okay."

They good-naturedly give you individual looks of disdain. Perfectly in sync when you accompany that last statement with a devilish smirk and a twirl that flares out your tail coat with a flourish. By no means are they incapable. Clumsy Mingyu can adeptly wield his massive concussion gun when it counts, of course, and Seungkwan stealthily hides several derringer 'throwaway' pistols under his white cloak that he can fire with deadly precision.

Nonetheless, they loyally flank to your side when Tonim's bell tower signifies the hour of high noon has struck. Seungcheol meets the three of you outside the door of the saloon, smoking a cigarette and one arm lazily draped over the Punisher — a terrifying machine gun mockingly designed in the burdening shape of a merciful cross.

You spot Seokmin up ahead. He's standing on the low border wall near the town's entrance, perched next to a pillar for back support with the heel of his boot propped up behind him. Decked out in the usual galaxy ensemble, purple fabric cut off at shoulder-length of the top left sleeve to allow free range of movement for his prosthesis. His hair's slightly gelled up for a more intimidating and dramatic flair and it almost makes you giggle.

But there's that stern gaze focused on the horizon, likely able to see far out into the distance through those amber lenses the human eye can't quite decipher. Despite such a hardened resolve, his head tilts slightly up toward the blue sky with a faint smile on his lips — an honoring appreciation for the beauty and wonder of life despite its inevitable horrors.

Seungcheol clicks his tongue to get your attention while Seungkwan and Mingyu keep walking ahead. "Spiky Hair thinks he's really gonna do it?"

"Won't stop until he's tried every last resort."

"Even if it kills 'im?"

"Even if it kills him."

"This damned situation 'cause of ya know who."

"Dokyeom. DK."

"Nah, nah. There's the asinine version, eh?"

"Absolute pain in my ass?"

He slaps his knee. "Ah, aye… good one! But nah, 's really stupid one, Deathly, uh, er…?"

"… Deadly Knives?"

"Pfft, yeah, 's that one. So, we gotta try 'n stop one genocidal brother from sweepin' out the whole human race 'n tryna convince greedy humans not to keep exploitin' 'em with the other. Back 'n forth again 'n again. I swear…'s only ever gonna be impossible."

"What makes you think it can't happen?"

He looks at you like you're stupid. Maybe you are. But what does that make him? "Both sides — humans versus DK — think they're right 'n too proud to think otherwise."

"So you don't think they'll settle for a compromise. Or at least try to see the other's viewpoint?"

"Hell naw. Ain't no compromisin' when both think they're justified in what they're doin'."

"Well, regardless — you joined a good cause, Choi. World could use a little more peace and love, don't you think?"

He grunts. "Lookit who's corrupted yer ideologies. Don'tcha know what destroyed Earth?"

"And do you know what saved humans? Kindness. Hope. Empathy. Compassion. Change. Making and being the difference. The good kind."

A long time ago, maybe in a different twist of fate, you might've staunchly agreed with Seungcheol. But despite it all, you've been somewhat changed — or like the pastor said, call it a corruption of sorts — by Seokmin's unwavering sense of positivity and kindness no matter how bleak the future.

You admired him. Truly.

"Un-fuckin'-'lievable."

Seungcheol shakes his head as if he's not gearing up, ready and raring to go as he stomps forward to join a fellow 'brother-in-arms'. The thought inwardly makes you smile with affection until you remember you're actually, in fact, mad at Seokmin.

A dust cloud stirs up on the horizon, steadily growing closer to where you stand.

"You're so full of goddamn self-flagellation."

The individual where all your ire is centered on jolts, doing a double-take at your sudden but familiar presence by his side approaching. Or maybe it was the mere fact you were talking to him again. A warm expression overtakes his facial features at the sense of calm that automatically relaxes the tension in his muscles as he looks down at you.

"Well then, hello to you too. Feeling better, mayfly?"

"… Remind me to never drink again."

"I told you —"

"Yeah, yeah." You wave away his nagging and step up on the wall to stand next to him. "Don't worry, I won't be making a mistake like that again."

"… Mistake?"

There's an edge to his tone. Searching. Sometimes you hate how perceptive Seokmin can be. Though he actively acts oblivious and carefree, it's usually a ploy to lower other's guard.

You wonder how long he's known.

So, you sigh. "I'm talking about drinking, of course. And… I wish I could say I forgot even if… I haven't. But it's fine, I know where I stand."

The latter part of your sentence trails off. It's true though. You do know — thankful you can even be next to Seokmin. You might not be with him but at the very least, your place will always be somewhere by his side. Affectionate flings may be sought elsewhere. But they're always temporary. In your heart of hearts, you know you're irreplaceable to him.

And that's going to have to be good enough for you.

The man in question scratches the back of his head. "It's not… it's not like that. I know I fucked up."

"Stop." You grip at his prosthetic, knowing despite how sensitive the sensors are, they won't be able to pick up how you slightly tremble. "It's okay. Really."

Who is it you're trying to reassure?

"Mayfly," Seokmin murmurs. "Look at me."

With the slightest hesitation, your gaze finally rises from its focal point centered on his boots and the stones beneath to meet dark brown eyes. The ache in the gunslinger's chest eases just a little. It's been far too long — a day, in actuality — since he's got to lose himself among the vibrant hues of your irises and he squeezes your free hand in gratitude.

"It's not okay, I want to talk to you. Sober. But…"

"I get it. Now's not the time for a heart-to-heart, especially not in front of your brother's henchmen."

You laugh, for real this time. The sight is breathtaking; it makes Seokmin's eyes crinkle, a fond smile to accompany his affection as he leans in closer to you to whisper a sweet, "Thank you."

Three sets of eyes try to make it very not obvious that they're very obviously totally not watching the overdue interaction with bated breath.

"Oh golly good, they've made up!"

"'Course they would."

"It's about time, I couldn't take the tension anymore."

"Don'tcha think it'll get worse once they start canoodlin'?"

"Good lord," Seungkwan groans, "perish the thought."

"What's wrong with a little love? Yay for love!"

"Well, I don't think they've made it that far yet. But we're getting there. Baby steps."

It would be a good cause for celebration, a resumption of last night's festivities. Unfortunately, the merry moment is cut short with a screech of brakes, signaling the arrival of Jihoon, DK's most elite performer in his unmerry band of henchmen.

Next to the feared Crimsonnail's suitcase sits Soonyoung the Beast. Silver strands peek out behind the unsettling, bug-like circular mask hiding his face. He casually waves, acting like the unnerving discovery behind the innocent, abandoned child — who went by Hoshi — was simply a facade initially put on around your group and not such a grand revelation.

Having sorted that out in the stomach of a giant flying worm serving as a hive mind for Gunsmoke's legion of its original inhabitants and swearing not to let your guard down again, all five of you remain on high alert.

Jihoon's steel-colored eyes flicker to Seungcheol. "Hello there, Undertaker. Or… should I say Judas?"

"Howdy dandy to ya too, ya son of a bitch," the pastor snarls, spitting his cigarette in their direction. Cursing under his breath when the distance and uselessness of the fizzling stub doesn't blow up the engine like he wishes it would.

"Now, now. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

"Kinda wanna piss ya off as much as ya piss me off, yeah."

"Surely you know what —"

"He means nothing by it." You'd quickly abandoned your post next to Seokmin to place a hand on Seungcheol's taut shoulder. Boldly facing the blonde man's haughty expression with one that's hopefully placating enough on behalf of your comrade. "He's just grumpy because he's still hungover."

"Well, well… if it isn't the humanoid typhoon's little blood shower."

Ugh, you inwardly grimace, why the fuck does everyone have such unflattering nicknames for me?

"Still following him around, I see."

"'S a lot comin' from —"

" — Hasn't gotten rid of me yet!"

"… Seems it," Jihoon sniffs and cocks his head. "Similar to the dilemma I have with this persistent bug."

Soonyoung chortles, neck contorting at an unnatural angle to peer at the driver. "You love me."

"You're delusional."

"Why are you here?"

Seokmin's question comes sharp and pointed like a dagger, a far cry from his usual demeanor. His tone remains detached. Aloof. Vaguely accusatory. Unlike your harried action to cover for Seungcheol, you don't dare divert attention away from the gunslinger who stalks forward after elegantly hopping down from his perch. Despite an outwardly calm demeanor, there's an underlying urgency in his gait that's threatening to snap.

"For amusement. A show, if you will."

"One that's not even orchestrated by Joshua's freakish cult powers!"

Out of all the males surrounding you, you're not sure exactly who growls at the Beast's mere mention of the devil-like figurehead — in fact, it could've been all of them — but there's one noise that rings out above the din of it all.

Click!

You don't need super-hearing to pick up that telltale sound. Not when every person over the age of eighteen in Tonim has a cocked gun trained on each member of your ragtag gang.

"Uh, so… how many times is this?"

"One too fuckin' many," you answer Seungkwan with a petulant hiss and reluctantly mimic him by putting your hands up in the air.

Jihoon cackles. "And when will you fools ever learn?"

"'S my question, actually," the pastor nonchalantly calls over his shoulder, directed at the town's ringleader. "Didn't know ya had it in ya, boy."

You didn't think Wonwoo had it in him either, to be honest. But that's not something you were going to mention aloud with the shaky hold the bespectacled man has on the firearm waveringly aimed at his target — the one whose head is worth a 60 billion double dollars bounty, dead or alive.

"Felnarl. Jeneora Rock. Descartes. Dankin."

There's a faint twitch in one of Seokmin's eyebrows. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, sarcastically muttering under his breath an addition of location names, "Voldoor, Inepril, December, Lewiston…" and Mingyu joins in on the fun with a cheerful, "New Miami!"

Seungkwan watches warily and your jaw clenches. You can feel your teeth grind together in annoyance as Wonwoo's smarmy sneer grows smugger.

"And now, Tonim Town. What?" he jeers, seizing the chance to use the man's silence as a way to ridicule him. "Don't recognize what you've laid waste to? Must I bring up the big ones to jog your memory a little, like the city of July and Augusta or the hole in the fifth moon?"

"Why you —"

Enragement propels you a step forward, but the barrel swinging your way halts your next move mid-step. The sullen look on Wonwoo's face surprisingly holds no malice. He looks saddened, if anything, but you can't bring yourself to feel too much sympathy with the rifle he's now pointed toward you.

"You forgot one."

"Pardon?"

Seokmin's voice is hardly more than a whisper yet it rings out loud and clear amid the tense silence and stillness. "I said, you forgot one. There's not a name of any place or person I'd ever forget. I'm well aware of the ones you're talking about… and more. However, there's somewhere I won't ever forget that no one will ever know existed."

"… Huh?"

"Little Ivywood."

Wonwoo seems so taken aback and the pause unwittingly allows your eyes to drift over to meet Seokmin's brown ones. There are so many emotions conveyed in the sidelong glance — a mixture of regret-filled feelings yet ever so soft — and it lasts a second too long to snap the befuddled aggressor out of his reverie.

"Oh… I see." He pushes up his glasses, the lenses glinting in the pale sunlight like a typical anime villain. The long gun lowers to the ground the same time as he throws back his head to let out a bitter laugh. "So that's how it is! All you do is take and take and take, Lee. Destroy, destroy, destroy; again and again and again!"

"Aye, ole chap's gone off his rocker."

"You've made an ally out of a would-be, should-be enemy and think other victims with their pain and grief don't exist?!"

"Wow," Seungkwan wrinkles his nose in disgust, "yeah… he's gone completely insane."

Mingyu hums in agreement. "A little unhinged! Off the rocks! Unstable even! When can I knock him out?"

You'd love to give the gentle giant the go-ahead. Really. But even so…

"Damn you —"

"Stop it."

The townspeople's uncertainty and hesitance tells you all you need to know, especially when Wonwoo's hysteria leaves them even more perplexed. After years of handling a gun like a second arm, you can spot inexperience and fear of handling a dangerous weapon the second someone is near one. You lower your arms and step forward once more, confidence growing when he makes no move to threaten you further.

"You don't want this."

The corner of his mouth quirks upward, a rueful smile. "You know, I thought we really did share some camaraderie."

"We do."

"Yet you gallivant around with a monster like that?"

"He's not a monster."

"I should've known better, really, when the VERnons said you're the sirocco that follows after the humanoid typhoon. Heroes, my ass! I don't get it, how could you do that to others after what happened to you?"

To us?

It remains unspoken yet you can hear the intent of the accusingly barbed question. Two survivors of a wrecked hometown. Shared camaraderie hadn't been a lie. Even now as you meet the flickering fire in Wonwoo's eyes with a blazing flame in your own, all you can see is a reflection of your past and what you could've turned into in a possible future.

A cold gleam returns to his gaze as he takes your silence as defiance. Or maybe even shamelessness. "How could you turn a blind eye to such a bloody warpath of destruction when you know too well of the tragedy that's left behind?!"

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

"… Excuse me?"

"That's what all of you are doing right now," you declare loudly and some of Tonim's residents whose conscience stings have the decency to avert their eyes. Awareness of their actions seem to weigh down on them, guns lowering ever the slightest and the awkwardness encourages Seungkwan to speak up.

"We would've left peacefully tomorrow."

"But yer actions're gonna be the very cause of the destruction yer tryin' so damn hard to prevent."

"Because you took a bribe!"

There's a stilted, horrified, and collective gasp, so you try to remedy Mingyu's exclamation.

"It's because you let your malice sway you. Tell me, Jeon. What all did you lose?"

"My whole town. Then my parents. Almost my life and nearly Lina's too. My lover…"

"And your sense of self. Plus, the new life you've created here — and those things? Almost lost because of your own accord. Why would you destroy the few good things you're granted?"

Wonwoo's eyebrows scrunch as his face tenses. Your heart goes out to him despite everything, hoping to get your point across as you continue speaking.

"That doesn't negate the losses. The grief. The pain. It never goes away but… you can choose to clean out the wound, put some salve on it, and bandage it or let it fester and infect your body 'til it rots even your soul."

You can hear the shift in the sand as Seokmin approaches to stand next to you. He regards Wonwoo with a kind smile and the understanding, crescent-shaped squint of his eyes is like a punch to the other man's gut.

"…. I —"

" — It's your choice, Jeon. What did they offer you? Money? There are so many bets on July's militia lying about the payout. I mean, c'mon, there's no way a ruined city would have the funds."

"Yer Plant's no longer in red status, so ya won't need to barter no more."

"I'll throw in a better deal — let us go and I'll have Choi marry you and Sherry, free of charge."

His cheeks flush and you inwardly gloat, instincts right on the money. Seungcheol's jaw drops, absolutely flabbergasted, and the townsfolk exchange a few knowing snickers.

"If it's protection you need, we can figure that out too," Seokmin recovers and offers in a low voice. "And if Do — er, Knives — or his gang approached you with a deal, just know that they never hold up their end of the bargain."

"You're lucky you threatened us first. DK's side is a little too slash-happy and trigger-loving to resort to verbal methods. They're the ones you'd want to go after anyways, you see, this man and Knives are twins if you don't look close enough, they're eerily similar at the strangest moments. So the real story is that it's all just spiraled out of control."

"You mean…"

"I won't deny responsibility." Seokmin admits sternly. "It's true that I've wreaked devastation to many towns. Failed to save the people I swore to protect."

"But DK keeps forcing his hand to get Seok to join his genocidal cause. And every time he refuses to do so, his brother throws a tantrum and well, knives go flying everywhere. Literally."

"He's a little…" The gunslinger searches for the right word — and finding that there is none — cringes. "Dramatic."

You stare at him, aghast. "He cut your arm off!"

Wonwoo pales, swallows, and then grimaces, daring to ask, "So… I've had it wrong the whole time?"

"I guess not entirely." You shrug, also guilty as charged years ago. "And obviously not the first."

"And certainly not the last," Seungkwan pipes up.

The bespectacled man looks down at the ground. "I don't… I don't know… Do I even deserve this kind of treatment? This… mercy?"

"No."

With such a blunt answer, Seokmin's quick to protest with an admonishment of your name while Seungkwan and Mingyu suppress smiles at your straightforwardness. Seungcheol freely chuckles, lighting a cigarette.

And Wonwoo's face falls as remorse hits all over again.

"But," you smirk, "what have I told you?"

"Oh, ah… why destroy the few good things life grants me?"

"Good. You were listening. We might get along just fine, after all." You send him a teasing wink. "Camaraderie and all that be damned."

A sheepish look overtakes the man's previously hardened features. And suddenly he's laughing with his head thrown back like earlier, but this time it's with an unrestrained amount of joy. Relief. Hope.

"The ticket to the future is always blank, Wonwoo." Seokmin extends a hand and the other man takes it, the small grin on his face turning into a full-blown smile.

"Guns down, Tonim town. The rest of you, come on out! Let's celebrate!" He calls out to everyone, gesturing for your group to follow. "Drinks are on me to make up for this whole mess. I'm sorry for getting you all involved."

You turn around toward Seokmin, elation written all over your face that he readily mirrors. Just as you're about to grab his hand as he reaches out at the same time, there's a slow, loud handclap that sets off mental warning sirens blaring all over again.

"Conflict resolution. How very touching."

The velvety voice is deceivingly sweet. But beneath the dulcet tones lies a raw and wicked strength. It rings out clearly, even more so when the jubilant mood abruptly dies down as a new figure approaches.

"Aw, c'mon Joshie! Just when it was gettin' good!" Soonyoung whines and you belatedly realize you forgot all about the real enemies at the entrance gate, thinking they had grown bored and left.

"What about that was 'getting good'?"

The Beast huffs at Jihoon's surly attitude, more than likely pouting beneath his mask. "Was really lookin' forward to those free drinks…"

"We don't need drinks and we don't need you, Josh."

If there's one commonality between the adversary and your group, it's the shared disdain for the elegant-looking man dressed in all black fabrics with shiny leather buckles, and slicked-back locks to match.

"Hm. But I think you do."

Chilling ochre-colored eyes couldn't be bothered to look at you, drifting past you and Seokmin like you were nothing more than the grains of sand littering every surface on Gunsmoke. And like a marionette, your head automatically swivels to follow his line of sight, blood draining from your face when you realize what he's looking at.

Lina.

She breaks away from holding onto Sheryl's hand after they emerge from the saloon, bounding toward her brother with excitement all over her face. The arm that isn't supporting his firearm extends gallantly outward, ready to welcome her with a hug as he strolls to meet her halfway.

They're smiling at one another with so much adoration after the intensity from earlier. If you weren't fucking terrified, you'd wish Dokyeom was also there to see how pure a sibling relationship and affection should be.

Instead, your stomach lurches, and Seokmin hisses beside you. With your back turned, you can't see Joshua but you're sure he's smirking when Wonwoo's frame stiffens, body jerking as it moves beyond his control.

Hastily, he's cocking the rifle with expert ease and assuming the perfect position to fire it, something he previously displayed no knowledge on before. Wide eyes have no choice but to peer down the scope and he chokes at how it's unforgivingly aimed directly at his little sister.

She skids to a halt, ten paces away. Hesitant. Wary. Puzzled.

"… Wonu?"

It all plays out in slow motion as you reach for Sirocco, simultaneously screaming out to your friends to alert them and provide cover. Frantic panic swirls in the air like a sandstorm at the turn of events, but even more fear generates when the townspeople can do nothing but helplessly succumb to their limbs moving on their own too.

Despite every single effort and all of his muscles straining not to do it, Wonwoo's pointer finger on the trigger pulls back. It doesn't matter how much he struggles to fight for control, his body refuses to listen. Tears flow from his eyes even though he can't speak, can't yell, can't beg for forgiveness — the vehement sense of horror is the only thing able to overpower Joshua's terrifying control, leaking out a salty excess.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Three gunshots ring out at the same time. You fire right before Wonwoo does and Seokmin follows two seconds later. Not because his reaction time is slower. But because he could see and calculate where the bullet's headed after you changed its trajectory by shooting at Wonwoo's barrel.

It doesn't end there.

Seokmin is a half-step closer to Lina and can move at an inhumane speed, diving into a tuck-and-roll to reach her moments before the residents have no choice but to open fire too.

You know he's fast enough to dodge bullets at close range, but the staggered distance spread out among all of those present in the town's square works little for that insane advantage. Instead, the skilled combatant focuses all his attention on shielding Lina beneath the loose flaps of his impenetrable trench coat. She clings tightly to his leg, whimpering.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Continuing to mutter reassurances, he pats her fluffy brown hair with an unshaking cybernetic palm while the other rapidly points his revolver upwards to deflect a bullet that might've been lucky enough to shatter the bridge of his glasses. Then doing the same to one at five o'clock on his right. He angles his body this way and that as if a puppeteer is yanking the strings connected to his limbs to the perverse beat of an unheard tune. The few he misses land harmlessly against the thick kevlar material you're all wearing.

Meanwhile, your steady hand supports the familiar weight of Sirocco. Muscle memory aids you with cocking the gun as you run. Aiming at the closest group of people near them and then — bang!, bang!, bang! — snipe off the barrels on their guns in rapid succession, rendering them useless.

From behind, something flies past your face and nicks the top of your ear — one of the few places unprotected by bulletproof material — causing you to hiss. Scowling over your shoulder, you squint in the direction it came from.

While a complete bastard, Seungcheol is also the most resourceful ray of hope in a shootout like this. The Punisher's automatic artillery relentlessly fires shot after shot, destroying old and weather-beaten guns like they're empty, crushable soda cans. It's faster too. The trigger-happy pastor twirls it around maniacally, taking only the slightest care to not actually kill anyone.

You're a hundred percent sure it's because of Joshua's disturbing power that allows him to reanimate corpses rather than Seokmin's "Thou shalt not kill" lecture and pacifist philosophies that keeps the supposed 'god-fearing' man from snuffing out anyone's life this time around. Despite the bullets whizzing around, you know he'll fare alright with that healing serum of his — just as long as he doesn't overdose on it.

Mingyu rushes over to stand back-to-back with the pastor, x-shaped claws firing out of his 'stun-gun' and immobilizing many of his targets with ease. You can't help but grimace though, wondering if they'll sustain more brain damage from Joshua's nefarious telepathy or a well-meaning concussion that leaves them unconscious and no longer posing a threat. A solid steel object flies past the brown-haired man's head, knocking down the mind-controlled person who was trying to sneak up on him using a blind spot.

"Ooh, thanks, Seungkwan!"

"Pay attention, you blockhead!"

An empty derringer lays at said blockhead's feet and Mingyu kicks it away with a childlike glee. A brand-new loaded pistol is already in Seungkwan's right hand even as he throws away the one in his left toward someone approaching Seungcheol. The young man's never empty-handed for long because with another flashy twirl from out of his cloak and a new handgun is cocked, aimed, and fired.

Despite the distance and conditions, all three work together like clockwork. Different shaped and sized cogs all interconnected to succeed without causing too much harm. And you know you must play your part as well, turning your attention back to the few townsfolk that remain.

"Seokmin, switch!"

It's not like he needs the heads-up. The way you'd both been inching closer to each other every time your gun's fired already issued the forewarning. It's like a subtle tango performed by two fierce allies surrounded by deadly enemies. If you didn't know better, it's similar to an intricate sword dance.

But you knew how dangerous it was to play with knives.

The swift transfer of Lina's warm little body into your arms is a welcome comfort. Seokmin sends you a dazzling smile, one full of confidence at a successful swap.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you coo and your gloved thumb wipes away one of the tear trails cutting through the dirt smudges on her face. "You are so, so, so brave and I'm so, so, so proud of you."

"He," she sniffles, "my… my… br-brother. W-Wonu!"

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you turn her to face the other way. "Everything's going to fine. I promise. Now, run to Seungcheol. He'll keep you safe while the rest of us finish this."

Seungkwan and Mingyu had effectively disarmed everyone on their end and now worked on dragging the town's unconscious residents inside the saloon and attending to any wounds. The pastor stood guard near the entrance with his Punisher staked firmly into the sandy ground. Although empty of ammunition, the machine gun still served a purpose as a great defender with its imposing cross shape.

With the target assuredly safe — out of sight, out of mind — the control Joshua has over those remaining falters and starts to lose its effect. In the brief lull, Seokmin dashes ahead to deliver a flying kick that helpfully unsheathes the dagger hidden in the sole of his boots, demolishing one more firearm in someone's grip before it can be used again.

Bang!

Bang!

And with Sirocco's precision, the last two are destroyed as well. You match your comrade's grin and turn triumphantly to where the instigators still stand at the entrance.

There would be no casualties today. You and your comrades would make sure of that.

Joshua, stoic as ever, surveys the aftermath with an air of unbothered gracefulness. Jihoon fumes next to him. Panic spikes when Soonyoung can't be spotted at first until you spy him curled up in the car's front seat — asleep.

You fist bump Seokmin in high spirits. Then fearlessly meet a pair of deep orange eyes devoid of any emotion or warmth, a shift occurs in your smile. Confidence and satisfaction hone the corners of your mouth into a daring smirk and something about the bold taunt causes a rare flicker of humor to cross Joshua's lips. Whether it's scornful pity or simple mockery, you don't have time to figure it out because Jihoon snaps.

Nails.

Several of them fly through the air and their wielder's formidable namesake comes from the daunting color that makes the multitude of piercers look like thin streaks of blood against the pale blue sky. The spikes as long as spears are all fired from Jihoon's large suitcase-turned-crossbow that aims just shy of your left side.

Those steel eyes of his are as sharp as their color. The malice within them feels suffocating, so strong and heavy that it sucks all the breath straight out of your lungs. Only the pain from a nail grazing your cheek is enough to pull your attention away from drowning in the unnerving emotion and you put a hand up to the laceration to soothe the sting.

Wetness oozes from your skin, an unsettling feeling of sliminess accompanying the touch. Puzzled, your fingers retract and you ponder the sheer amount of red viscoelastic fluid coating them. There's so much of it pooling that droplets fall to the sand below while others dribble down past your wrist and under your sleeve, the stain blending right in with the fabric of your coat.

Drip.

"It's all your fault!"

Drip.

"Their blood is on your hands…"

Drip.

"Don't you feel guilty?"

Drip.

"Don't you feel responsible?"

Drip.

"Do you regret being the only one left to live?"

Drip.

Faces you know and voices you cannot recall overlap and echo. Unfamiliar frowning expressions and intonations you remember as once gentle now ridicule, belittle, and find every crack in your well-made armor. Insidious whispers weave inside, entangling themselves within the fragile support structures of your mind and very soul. They point and cackle to one another at such a sorry sight, only for you to realize you're angrily jabbing a pointer finger at your worthless reflection with those cursory words coming straight out of your own mouth.

Drip.

Your head turns robotically, like an early prototype of the lost technology Earthlings created. This time it's Sheryl who's the victim, helplessly well within the trajectory line of Jihoon's rage. Every muscle aches, weighed down by exhaustion. Your shoulder burns. Yet you still somehow find the strength within you to rush toward her, especially hearing Lina's desperate wail as she's held back by a grimacing Seungcheol.

Drip.

Like a comet, Seokmin blazes past. He skids to a stop, effectively shielding the woman right before impact. You're too slow to move. In fact, it feels like an out-of-body experience. As if you're nothing but a hologram inside the floating ship — an artificial intelligence projection with no other choice but to witness the horrors and observe tangible objects scuttle towards their inevitable doom without interference. You're left with no choice but to simply watch as the nails are propelled through the air with the intent to strike.

Drip.

Someone's screaming. Maybe it's you.

Drip.

The nails impale Seokmin without mercy. Strike after strike, they pierce straight through the material of his coat designed to repel only bullets and plunge deep within the muscles beneath his skin. One after the other. So many of them stick out of the man's backside like the skeletal bone formation for wings. He slumps to his knees, falling on top of a bewildered but unharmed Sheryl. When he only lays still with no further action, you're struck with the dreadful knowledge that he may never move again and it fills you with an unfathomable maelstrom of raw grief and anger.

Drip.

Suddenly, you're no longer drowning in invisible quicksand and can move freely again. There's zero hesitation in your now fluid movements — not even when the blond-haired man poises his crossbow directly at you this time. Pulling out the spare gun hidden near your hip, you blast the airborne spikes flying towards you without hesitation.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

More fall than you shoot. The anger, pain, and grief you wield is enough to tear them apart like they're nothing but worm larvae helplessly caught in a sandstorm. You stalk forward through the crimson ire that relentlessly strikes down, clearing a path that's littered with broken, twisted, and dented nails before resolutely aiming point-blank at Jihoon's forehead.

Click.

More people are screaming and the spiteful cacophony in your mind resumes. But your ears feel like they're filled with cotton and this time you're stuck underwater. Your chest rises and falls, trying and failing to collect yourself.

"… out of it!"

"Hyperventialing -"

"Goddamn it! Get ahold o'yerself, woman!"

The Crimsonnail sneers.

Your cheek stings.

The dissonance reminds you of the wound from before. But this time it feels like a sting, as if someone slapped you — albeit rather gently. Numb, you halt in place and cautiously raise your hand back to your surprisingly unmarred face. But rather than skin, you grasp onto something solid. Something familiar. Something kind. Something loving. Something safe. Something warm. Something that's yours — always has been and always will be.

Someone.

And then… you open your eyes — and find yourself staring directly into Seokmin's sparkling brown ones.

"Y-you're dead," you manage to choke out in disbelief and his eyes incredulously crinkle into half-moons at the statement to hide the tears brimming in them.

The soothing hand caressing your cheek moves to wrap around the barrel of the gun you're pressing to his forehead and he smiles disarmingly. As if what you just said was the funniest thing ever.

"I know, mayfly."

Part 2 | Read the whole thing on AO3

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

[raedas]

where in the locked tomb universe are we?

or: a tentative guide to the solar system in the locked tomb and which houses go where :)

[id: a diagram of the solar system, including pluto, with additional white text overlaid over each body. the sun is labeled dominicus, mercury is labeled the sixth, venus is the seventh, earth is the first, mars is the second, jupiter is the third, saturn is the fifth, uranus is the fourth, neptune is the eight, and pluto is the ninth. /end id]

note: i'm pretty sure people have put together similar analyses before, but i wanted to try my own hand at it! and please feel free to share if you disagree with me on anything & your own evidence and thoughts <3

evidence & analysis under the cut!

THE NINTH HOUSE:

okay, this one is pretty much just a freebie. if you didn't know that the ninth house was on pluto, then, uh... sorry! i'm not going to exhaustively go through all the evidence for this one, but some things that stick out are the cold, gideon's awe at how close the first house is to the sun, and the fact that it's the "ninth" to begin with—the house that wasn't really meant to exist, perfectly in line with the planet that isn't really a planet THE FIRST HOUSE:

this one is given to us just as much, if not moreso, than the ninth. with that in mind, i'm just going to do a quick run through of the evidence that the first house is earth: it's very blue and covered in water, there are ruins of civilization, it's "the first", so on and so forth. home, sweet home :)

THE SIXTH HOUSE:

Then he said, "The sun has stabilized. Hope the Sixth House didn't get cooked in the flare." (Harrow the Ninth, 490)

this line is pretty much the entire selling point for the sixth being on mercury, the closest planet to the sun! (until they run away to the other side of the universe, that is)

THE SEVENTH HOUSE:

There were other planets that made their homelands closer to the burning star of Dominicus--the Seventh and Sixth, for instance--but to Gideon they could not imaginably be anything else than 100 percent on fire. (Gideon the Ninth, 67)

the implication here is fairly obvious: the seventh and sixth are on venus and mercury, or vice versa. thankfully, since we have the sixth squared away as mercury, it's pretty obvious that the seventh is located on venus

BONUS MYTHOLOGY FACT: venus is the roman goddess of beauty! (also known by her greek name, aphrodite). "seven for beauty that blossoms and dies", huh?

THE EIGHTH HOUSE:

"I squeal so long and so loud that they hear me from the Eighth." (Gideon the Ninth, 26)

while this line is obvious hyperbole, to me it implies one of two things: either the eighth is the farthest planet from the ninth, or it's right next to them. and since we know that mercury already has its hands full with sixth house, i think it's safe to assume that the eighth is on neptune, the ninth's next door neighbor :)

THE SECOND HOUSE:

"We went through the same shitty questions of what to do. What about the Mars installation, what about the fusion batteries?" (Nona the Ninth, 74)

john helpfully offers this tidbit to us when he's recounting everything that happened leading up to the apocalypse to harrow. i think it says a lot that there was a mars installation even before the apocalypse properly hit, and it makes sense that said installation would eventually become a proper House, with a capital H

BONUS MYTHOLOGY FACT: mars is the roman god of warfare (known in greek as ares)! looks at the second house and how closely they're associated the cohort... yeah, i think that speaks for itself

THE THIRD & FIFTH HOUSES:

"I thought we'd end up on the Third or the Fifth, or a sweet space station, or something." (Gideon the Ninth, 56)

"We are not becoming an appendix of the Third or Fifth Houses," continued the necromancer opposite." (Gideon the Ninth, 58)

okay, here's this bit where things begin to get a bit hairy. repeatedly throughout the books, we're told about how the third and fifth are the two "big" houses. harrow's scared of them and worried they'll make the ninth one of their appendixes, gideon originally thinks the entire lyctoral meeting will be on one of their planets, so on and so forth. with that in mind, it really isn't that much of a stretch to think they'd be situated on the two giants in our solar system: jupiter and saturn. we'll come back in a moment to sort out which is which!

THE FOURTH HOUSE:

aaaand uranus is the only planet left! congrats, fourth!

THE THIRD & FIFTH HOUSES (again):

"Naturally [Isaac] is Pent's protégé. I hear the Fifth takes special pains with the Fourth... hegemonic pains, some may say." (Gideon the Ninth, 170)

from this quote, as well as the whole of jeannemary & isaac's relationship with magnus & abigail, we can surmise that the fourth house is very close to the fifth house (hegemonic though it may be). it's reasonable that that metaphorical proximity is reflecting (or caused by) something else: physical proximity. with that, i think it's fairly safe to assume that the fifth is on saturn, putting the third on jupiter

DOMINICUS:

aaand finally, the center of the solar system itself! i really, really don't think it needs sharing that dominicus is the sun, as long as you accept that the locked tomb takes place in our own solar system. however, i do think the meaning of dominicus is worth sharing. coming from latin, it translates roughly to "lordly", "belonging to god", or "of the master." very subtle, john, very subtle.

[gangplanksorenji]

A door that’s slightly ajar (and then, I opened them all up)

Pairing: LE SSERAFIM Yunjin x Male Reader

Word Count: 8939

A/N: Hello Orenjideul! Of course, it's the down bad days for me, again and this time, I've been wanting to write something like this, like a student-like fic and here we are! I absolutely love writing this and creating up with titles like this—I really do!!! Also, big thanks for @majorblinks for beta-reading and making some corrections to my mistakes! Thank you so much! Anyways, hope y'all enjoy this fic and see you until the next time again! <3

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It's just another normal day of the week, is it? Yes, it is, and you're tired of it. There's nothing you can do either, unless, doing a significant change that will probably make the day more interesting. Yet, what change can you make? You can't even have one, at the moment, so you'll be back on this redundant day, again.

Thank god that your class dismissed early, and that uplifted your motivation of making that “change”. It was on a Saturday too, maybe it explains why your lecturer feels drowsier than usual—I mean, he already looks like that all of the time but whatever.

You kick your shoes, got your things packed on your bag on a quick two-hour discussion as you rushed your way out, going straight to the cafeteria so you could buy and eat your favorite chocolate-pecan flavored cookies there—and honestly, you don't really spend that much money on miscellaneous things, but those cookies are maybe worth dying for.

You drool in the imagination of it, and you can't wait to taste those.

*something thuds*

You're subtly startled by that sound. There's no ghost (you don't really believe in such, too) nor your friends trying to prank the living life out of you as maybe, you just speculate those are just those reckless students doing whatever they're doing.

“These people…”

Maybe it's because of Saturdays. Weekends are pretty much the busiest days at your end even though it's the time where people set themselves to rest—there's so much contradiction that it outdid itself more than an oxymoron.

Such unnecessary thoughts shall go and fade away, in your mind, at least. Why are you even overthinking about this? Too descriptive? Well, maybe, it's a yes but there's something more descriptive, and that's when you opened your locker, full of those damned textbooks you aren't even bothered to read. Why does it even exist anyways?

Too busy. Too unbothered. Too focused—

“Hello, baby.”

You shout at the sudden figure startling you, almost dropping your textbook and your folder full of your seatworks in the process. You then put them onto your locker and shut the door lock, then averted your unwanted eyes towards the girl in front of you.

“W-What do you want, Yunjin?”

Huh Yunjin. Yes, that's her name and it's classy whenever she gets called “Jennifer”, her English name. She's one of the most popular girls on the whole university thanks to her clever and smart mind, her pretty face and her personality, and her specialty, her ways of captivating the hearts of guys and gals with her charm-filled flirting and here you are, standing right beside her—

“You.” She pokes her finger onto your chest, talking about you and you only.

If this is just one of her games you're sick and tired of playing, you definitely have no time for this, especially since you know how much she'll want to seduce someone under her spell.

“Yunjin, I have no time for this, okay? If you have someth—”

“Why not, hm? Then tell me why you're frequently looking at me in the lecture earlier, baby.”

And yes, you're mostly in the same class with her. Even though maybe it's written in the stars that you're both destined to be in the same class with each other and to top it all off, it’s even with the most stressful subjects known to man. Even with her being an ultimate nuisance—the bane of your silence—there's still a positive side of this: her ability to make everything interesting. Yes, you stole glances with her earlier—then wait, if she knows about this, then she's looking at you often then—

“Then how would know that without stealing glances to me too—”

“Answer my question, baby…” Yunjin whispers to your ear as she extends her right arm, pinning you against the metallic locker behind you and her other arm reaching for your necktie, her eyes burning with desire and lust as she demands an answer escaping from your lips, right here, right now.

“Come on, baby. Answer me—”

“Is it maybe just a coincidence, Yunjin? Get off me—”

“Nu-uh, baby. You can’t escape me.”

Yunjin’s seductive voice never fails to bring you weak, onto your knees as it feels eargasmic to hear, her saccharine tone almost leaving you defenseless. Her firm grip onto your necktie leaves you vulnerable to her and there’s also no way you can escape her, and even if you wanted to and if you were successful, she’ll try her best to catch you. What does she even want from you, anyways? Why would you experience this treatment of hers instead of the other guys on the campus? Why even you?

Well, as much as you want to keep asking yourself those kinds of questions, there’s only one way to find out what she really wants: finding the answer yourself.

“Then, w-what the fuck do you want from me, Yunjin? Can’t you j-just do your thing to the other guys at the campus? Why even m-me?”

Well, if she would help herself on resisting you, she may—

“No—” Yunjin closes her face dangerously towards yours, just inches away from kissing you but you won’t let her. Her minty breath captivates you even more as her tone is the cherry on top—the mixture of sultry of sweet best describes it—but you won’t let yourself fall under the spell of this slut—

“Come on, baby. Don’t you want me, hm?”

Of course, she’ll lure her prey into the abyss of no-return (into the unknown depths of lust) and will get to her desired promised land. She’ll do everything to get what she wants and it even starts right now: her hot breath brushing off on the crook of your neck as she kisses the soft skin right after, letting your defenses crumble down in shambles as she’ll do what it takes to be hers for the time-being.

“I’ll make sure that you’ll never forget this day and…” Yunjin peppers your neck with passionate kisses as it’s not enough to leave a mark, yet enough for you to feel her immediate need for you. “I’ll let you do anything to me, baby.”

Is she really talking about this? Is she for real?

These thoughts linger in your mind as the last sentence turns you on. You know how this may end with Huh Yunjin—you getting in trouble as she gets away with an unscathed and clean record because of her mother being the president of the parent’s organization of the university and… you absolutely hate it. Yes, it’s unfair and you curse yourself on what could happen but how could you deny such a hot girl like Yunjin? Her pretty face, captivating eyes, her plump, kissable lips, her hot figure, spankable ass—there’s just not enough time on how perfect she can be and if you were to be asked, you can’t help but be attracted to her.

Yes, it may sound hypocritical but you meant what you said, or at least, what you thought. Giving in to your desperation and desire, you utter an almost inaudible answer that raises Yunjin's attention towards you.

“O-Okay, Yunjin…”

“Okay what, baby, hm?”

She continues peppering your neck with kisses that drive you insane. Her body is incredibly close towards you and you can't help but moan with the emanating heat she's making you feel. 

She needs further clarification—she wants to hear what you really want and possibly, saying it with your heart out, like, you really meant it.

“More, Yunjin, please…”

Desperate pleas can't go unanswered as Yunjin wasted no time talking but rather in a form of latching. Latching in a way her lips suckled onto the sharp collarbone which earned a moan for you as she knew exactly what you wanted all along—and it's like you won't give in to that damn temptation.

“Like that baby? Like how my lips just… pepper your smooth skin full of kisses, hm?”

“Yes—ahh…”

A soft moan fuels the fire of desire inside her. It was never new but something felt different and new at her end, but she brushes those things off as she averted her whole focus on marking you and kissing you all over.

“I love it when you moan for me, baby. Gladly, we're only getting started.”

Her fingers trace your pristine skin and up to your lips as she shut your moans, not letting any sound escape from it. 

“Well, let's up it an ante, shall we? I'm getting to know you a little more, baby~”

A little seduction is spicy and you fell for the trap that you'll absolutely be grateful of. Between the plethora of all of the possible things she can do to you, she wants only a single thing for now: and that's to feel how soft and good your lips taste, and especially, how they feel onto hers.

Latching her soft lips onto yours, you immediately reciprocate the kiss in probably less than a millisecond and you cherish it in every second possible as her lips are insatiable and tastes incredibly great. It was splendid and passionate, and you couldn't ask for more but the derivation towards lust makes you want more of it—rather, more of her.

Fuck foreplay—that is probably you, right now. 

You're not a big fan of build-ups nor teasing as you're incredibly impatient and it's proven to be tested right now and probably, you despise it—it's also maybe the fact that you're down bad for her at this moment. It's like you can do something to reach for climax immediately as you're deemed powerless, being captivated and allured under her spell, the animalistic urges inside you craving for more but you couldn't, yet. She'll let you drool over her and that only, for now. She's insatiable and you can't wait to get past the rising action. 

If you think about it, it's probably better like this before the main course as you can't help yourself from getting aroused from Yunjin's advances.

“God, you taste really good, baby. Is it your first time getting kissed on the lips, hm?”

“N-no…”

You stutter and she giggles. She finds it rather cute that a man like you gets feeble around her and she smiles on that fact. It's even better because of the fact that you can't do anything to retaliate against her actions and she knows you won't.

“Liar, hehe~ I bet no one kissed you, or—this fucking good, hm?” 

Her stern tone turns you on more than you can imagine as she demands an answer yet the serenity of her voice contradicts the devil—the venom laced between her words of lust and greed.

“Y-yes…”

“Say my name, baby.”

“W-what?”

You're genuinely confused why would she need you to call her name—oh, maybe because she wants to know how much you love her, how much you love her stupidly-hot acts towards you. Her fingers then unbutton the first layer of your uniform swiftly and with you being so oblivious, you didn't notice how she's slowly undressing you.

“W-what do you mean, Yunjin?”

“There you go, baby~ Hmm—mwah. That's for being a good boy, hihi~”

A quick peck on the neck as she hears her name once again escaping from your lips. A quick peck as a result of her wants being attended and letting you know how much she loves this moment. You’re utterly confused but you don’t care—you want her now and no one’s stopping you from that.

“You know, baby—” Yunjin’s hands caresses your back as she feels the heat radiating upon the foreplay that’s happening, and that makes her smile genuinely. “—let’s do this somewhere private, y’know?”

A casual giggle involuntarily caused by her captivating actions escapes her lips. You know where this will be ending and you waste no time leading the way, already miles away, reading her mind.

“I'll lead you to the bathroom then, Yunjin.”

“Then do, baby~”

She then offers her hand gently as you insist on holding it slowly, leading the way to the bathroom. Once you got there, nothing held back as the unstoppable force met the immovable object—both of your lips crashing onto each other, exchanging sloppy kisses towards each other as she moaned from your aggressiveness. 

“Mmph, baby—ahh! You really, really kiss me so good~”

“Not really, you do, Yunjin.”

Yunjin blushed from your heartfelt compliment as you did feel the heat within your cheeks, painting it rosy-pink as you find the kiss so incredibly hot and passionate that you can't help yourself but let the tiger inside you to be unleashed. 

Unleash the beast, as a famous saying says (it clearly reflects what you’re feeling right now) and without containing the ferocity inside you, you unbridle it. Wasting no second, you connect your lips her onto her again, exchanging the sloppiest and the most lustful kisses imaginable and as time advances, there goes the dancing of your tongues, fighting for dominance.

“God—getting so messy with me, baby, hm?”

“Can't help that you're so fucking insatiable, Yunjin.”

She tugged onto your necktie once again as she pulled you towards her, whispering to your ear seductively as it's also enough to send tingles down your spine.

“I feel the same too, baby. You make me feel so good, it's insane~”

The adrenaline inside you is making you unstoppable right now as you can only imagine the possible fantasies of yours coming true, and you can't simply wait to do everything with Yunjin. 

Every. Single. Thing.

She's also cognizant of what will happen next, possibly and surely…

“Ahh—ahh! Baby, right there~ Yes!”

You then latch onto her neck and collarbones, suckling onto the porcelain skin of hers as it's maybe enough to mark her. Her inevitable moans came loose, her sinful releasing the long-shackled lustful cacophony of sex-filled sounds that she can't contain anymore—

“Like it, Yunjin?”

“I fucking love it, baby. I love it when you mark me like you really own me—god, yes!”

She's giving into submission and she inevitably will, slowly, and surely. That's your goal right now, and you'll show off every trick up in your sleeve just to get her into that.

A door is close, way too far and nigh-impossible to reach.

A door is slightly ajar, try to reach it, and eventually you will, then you'll open one and will open more. 

It'll be a domino effect—starting from a single one then will possibly try out everything you can think of.

The door will suddenly close, yet you'll already think of the fact that you've seized those opportunities.

And you'll start right now.

“I want more, Yunjin. Wanna see more—wanna taste more of you.”

Yunjin has that look—that slutty, desperate look of ardor in her eyes and the way it sparkles with lust and anticipation—yes, it's perfect.

“Getting daring, aren't we, baby? Ahh—keep kissing me first. Let them know how much you love it and how much you're mine, baby~ Oh fuck!”

“No, Yunjin—I want more of you, right now.”

Crazy how a sexual desire drives a man into his lowest—a deceitful strength; a vulnerable spot; his cock doing the thinking, and not his brain. Getting daring, you slowly coursed your hands onto the side of Yunjin's plaid skirt, caressing it as you slowly undress her bottom half, wanting to feel and see those meaty thighs—those thighs you've been drooling with since the start of this.

She moans loudly in response to your actions, so, to tone her down, you immediately crash your lips onto hers again—probably for the umpteenth time—as she reciprocates, now feeling her and tasting her. Your insatiability towards her is imaginable, so you immediately pull out and lay down to slowly undress her skirt as it came in, right after, is a work of art: her smooth, pristine thighs on your sight as the white panties being the cherry on top.

“God, Yunjin—your thighs are so—”

“Tasty? And probably, meaty? Yeah, I know, baby. My thighs are all for you to worship and kiss. Hmm—ahh—now, please—let them know how much you want them.”

She read you. It's probably like the first thought everyone will have in their mind once they see Yunjin's thighs—they can relate to you if they were in your shoes but luckily, you're the only one who's having her at this moment, no one else.

Here lies your needs. Onto the hunger of kissing the milky flesh in front of you, you immediately do what must be done and waste no time. Peppering her thighs with pecks in quick succession, plethora of lewd moans came right after—and it's like she's giving herself to you of her own accord.

You continue peppering and worshiping her thighs with kisses and marks and because of how you're making her feel too good, she can't help herself but hold onto your hair, scalp-deep as she needs an outlet to fight the sudden rush of pleasure. 

Her succulent flesh is way too irresistible to pull out as her moans even encourage you to go further, but you wanted to experience more things with her and kissing her thighs for a hot minute and a half is enough to fulfill one of your wants. 

“Baby kissed my thighs so good, hm? Love how delicious my thighs taste, hm? The sweat dripping out slowly and probably—hngg—m-my juices too, hihi~”

“Isn't it obvious, Yunjin? I'm fucking drooling all over these.”

She didn't need to ask honestly, her deep, captivating tone in her voice just sparks the fire within you and it just drives you crazy. It's an obvious yes as an answer to her question, and there's no hesitation in that.

“I want yours too, baby. It's unfair that you drooled all over me and I won't drool over anything about you~ Come on, baby~”

God—it's her seductive tone that really gets you riled up. You just want her whispering to your ear every damn day, teasing you and more—oh, it'll feel like a dream yet technically speaking, you're already living in that fantasy of yours.

As clever as she is, you undoubtedly know what she means by that so, positioning yourself to lean against the cubicle wall, she kneels down slowly, ready to unbuckle your defenses down to its last straw. She looks up at you seductively, her eyes glistening in need and lust as you caress her cheeks and encourage her to do more.

“Mind doing the honors for me, Yunjin?”

“Of course, baby~ You got me so fucking needy for you. I'm dying to taste this dick, baby.”

Noticing the inevitable bulge tenting onto your pants, she smirked at the sight that she made you like this and slowly undressed your bottom half how you did hers earlier. One by one, every piece of clothing is now deemed worthless as every defense is being unshackled and when it's only the last one left, she licks her mouth, getting ready for what you had in store for her.

In one swift motion, the beast inside is now unleashed from its genuinely frustrating restraints as it's rock-hard, almost hitting Yunjin in the face and already dripping with that infamous colorless liquid.

“God, w-wow… You're so big, baby~ I wonder if it can fit inside my mouth, hihi~”

Her puppy-like eyes curiously studied your length, right from your engorged head up to your swollen balls as she admired every inch of you and she leisurely stroked you which earned a moan that escaped from your mouth.

Sure, the wholeness of your dick will fit inside her tight, slutty throat. Not to mention how much she drooled all over your length once you've revealed it and by that, you could tell how much wonders she could do with it.

“Tell me, Yunjin, do you like what you're seeing?”

An unhesitant nod from her as here comes her seductive voice again—

“I do, baby—I fucking do—mwah!”

There starts the slow, passionate kiss on your already swollen head as she plays your leaking slit with her tongue, also, in accordance with the rhythm of her strokes on the base of your shaft. She kissed your mushroom-shaped head so lovingly, it caused you to moan her name alongside with ragged breaths as the sensitivity is way too much to handle.

“Moaning my name, baby? I can tell—you're loving this already, hihi~”

You nod, and that's enough as an answer to her question.

“T-Tell me, Yunjin, what do you want to do with my cock?”

She did hear you, but instead of answering you, she just doubles the efforts of kissing your length from the base up to your swollen tip. You don't like this so, you grip her hair forcefully slowly, demanding an answer escaping from her slutty, cock-hungry lips.

“I w-want to choke on it, baby.”

“And?”

“Want to gag and drool all over it, baby.”

There's definitely more—

“Want to take this cock deep down so badly that I want my throat ravaged by it.”

More—

“Want you to fuck my face with it as I struggle to breath while you do t-that to me, and then, you'll thrust your hips so hard that you're only goal is to destroy my slutty throat for my throat is only a cumdump for you, baby. Or, you can pull out and start painting my face with—”

“Stop.”

“—it…”

Fear emanates her eyes as she's flummoxed about your sudden command towards her.

“You d-didn't like it, baby?”

“No, Yunjin—” You reposition yourself comfortably and lean yourself against the wall again, preparing for what's about to come. “—I'd rather see you do those things you’ve said rather than talking. Be my guest.”

She immediately fulfills what she'd said as constant licks and slurps reverberate around the puny cubicle you're in. She drools all over your cock, worshiping it with numbers of kisses to god knows how many—she just can't get enough of the succulent taste of your shaft.

She's maybe not the most experienced one in your opinion, but surely, she's making you feel great as her plump lips makes your brain go haywire in pleasure and it’s like it’s really made of cock-sucking. Sucking on your head gently, you moan and grip her hazelnut-colored streaks, an outlet to fight the constant course of pleasure.

“God—so fucking good, Yunjin. So so so fucking good—argh! Take me all in—s-shit!”

With your inevitable groans and subsequent moans, she takes this as fuel to up the ante of her pace, bobbing her head vigorously as she takes now half of your shaft, her saliva leaking out slowly on the side of her mouth. The liquid then drips down to your balls which she averted her attention too, not leaving it unattended.

She lathers it with her saliva as she sucks on one ball gently, making sure she's not hurting you in any kind as her aim is to stimulate you further and with her moderate rhythm of her strokes and the gentle care of attending your needs onto your balls, it's impossible to hide how good you're feeling—way better than you expected.

Gently and surely, she doesn't give you a break on the constant serotonin you're feeling. Having enough of your balls, she then goes onto doing the thing she's best at as the slurping sounds resumes and so is the constant gagging that keeps resonating around your ear. Having had enough of the slow stuff, she bobs her head frantically like she has something to prove to you as she went deeper, her throat welcoming the entirety of your length as she gags again in response—her gag literally echoing around the restroom as a hint of panic hits you as someone may barge in to know what's happening, mostly those janitors. Tears inevitably begin flowing down her cheek, messing up the mascara she had on—and it's just better seeing her getting ruined slowly.

Eventually, she pulls out as oxygen is to blame, her gleeful smile meeting you as she still strokes your shaft at a snail's pace.

“You l-like that, baby? You like h-how my tight throat constricts when your head hits the back of m-my throat, hm? You like how good I made you feel?

“S-shut up, Yunjin—do more of that and less talking, okay?”

“What a tsundere… Hmm—mwah!” Yunjin peppers your swollen head with numerous kisses as she continues her dirty talk that sends your arousal higher than the sky. She didn't mind how hypocritical your response is because all that matters is that she did a great job at pleasuring you and it's evident and you can't lie with that.

“Don't you dare lie in front of your teeth, baby—I know you liked it so much. I could even hear you moaning my name repeatedly and wanting mo—”

Well, that's another way to shut her up, for now…

If your words can't shut her slutty mouth up, then maybe taking your cock once again will do. It's really effective, considering how she struggles once you thrust your hips into her throat, making her gag and hum in satisfaction. In every thrust you do, she welcomes it in her tight cavern with open arms as she grabbed your hips almost-so-tightly in order to have stability while fucking her face. The pace quickens immediately, bringing in an onslaught of thrusts in a rapid succession which she enjoyed—she's maybe struggling considering how harsh you're using her throat but you didn't care as your pleasure comes first, and she even enjoys it too. After two minutes of a hot, sloppy (the saliva seeping out of her mouth are in copious amounts) facefucking, she tapped your thigh as she's visibly lacking oxygen and immediately, you pulled out of her tightness.

She gasps for air, struggling to breathe as it almost feels like you ravaged her throat completely. She smiled towards you, coughing a little as her mouth was used like a fleshlight, most likely, a cocksleeve in her (possibly yours too) own terms. She feels like a toy whose only purpose is to pleasure his master and no one else and she absolutely loved it. 

“Oh f-fuck, baby. You used m-my throat so well, hehe~ Now, you gotta finish what you've started i-in my mouth.”

Sticking her tongue out just to invite you to fuck her face again, you fall in under the spell of lust as you insert your length inside her mouth again, and suddenly, the pleasure courses down your veins as the warmth of her throat envelops and welcomes your cock like in a warm embrace. 

You're reflecting as you fuck her mouth mercilessly. You want to save that energy for later—

“Actually, Yunjin, just finish me off. Suck me like you fucking mean it, you slut.”

And off she goes, fulfilling your desires. You could feel that familiar sensation down your loins even earlier, and it's not even that far off now as your orgasm is nearly coming.

Look down as the hazelnut-haired girl bobs onto your penis like she means it—like what you've said—and you let it all out. She feels the persistent throbs of your length inside her throat as she plunges her mouth balls deep, her nose pressing onto the base of your shaft as you fill her cavern up to the hilt and welcoming another side—using it as a canvas for you to paint on. Series of hot, thick semen deposits inside her mouth, painting her throat like you have something to prove—to prove how much she's yours, maybe, just for this moment. Spurt after spurt, she closes her eyes as she feels the incredible volume of your load and the succulent taste of it—she can already feel how much your seed tastes good as her taste buds involuntarily chase the flavor of it, like it's her favorite dessert to indulge in anytime.

After your orgasm dies out (it lasted for at least twenty-two seconds, estimated, since your brain went haywire because of the pleasure), you pull out of her mouth and see streaks of her saliva and your cum as your length becomes lathered by it. Yunjin, as the clever girl she is, cleans your cock without being commanded to do so as she licks all over it, sucking and slurping all over the conglomeration of liquids and gathering it all. For one last time, she pulls out and gathers all of the cum that she can and sticks her tongue to show you how much your load is, and then, swallowing all of it within a single gulp and then showing to you her tongue again, smooth and clean as all of your seed is now into her stomach.

“Gosh, baby. That was so fucking good. That was like, the most delicious load I had ever tasted—god, I wanted more of it.”

If she wants another one, then she needs to earn it like a good girl yet, the both of you had more plans with each other, and it feels like a magnetic connection—the both of you suddenly read each other's minds on what the both of you want.

“I want more of you, baby—like, way much more… Like, I want to feel you, baby—deep inside me.  ”

Well, here we go—

“But baby, I'll let you choose though. Consider this as your luckiest day as you'll get to feel me, hehe~ It's either you wanna fuck me senseless while you rail my tight, little cunt or—” Yunjin slowly takes off her panties, giving you an unholy sight of her holes, which made your cock twitched involuntarily—she's way too fuckable at this moment and too hot to handle. “—you could shove your entire length up in my ass and finger me until I cum uncontrollably.”

These choices are way too tempting and of course, more difficult than ever. You wanna feel her tight cunt clenching and possibly, creaming—which is probably not hard consider how wet she is right at the start—around your shaft while you fuck from behind but also, you can’t let the opportunity fade of fucking her tight asshole and fingering her pussy, all at the same time.

Well, there are also second-hand thoughts within those choices: is there any lube whenever you made your choice on fucking her ass—

“Don’t you worry, baby, I have my lube here, in my uniform pocket.”

—and is no one going to know all of the sinful events that are about to happen within the next few minutes?

“And baby, no one’s gonna know about this as you know how I can get out of things like this. My mother has power and authority in this university so you, and I, will be safe from any trouble, hihi~”

Well, that answers anything you’ve been afraid of…

“So, what is it going to be, hm, baby? Come on—” Yunjin slowly seats onto the toilet (and of course, it’s been covered since the beginning) and spreads her legs wide slowly, presenting her already dripping cunt and her puckered hole, tempting the devil inside you. “—don’t keep a girl waiting.”

Takes you several seconds before coming up to a decision that you’ll surely won’t regret.

“I’d love to fuck you from behind, Yunjin.”

“On what hole, bab—”

“Both of them, your pussy first—”

Well, she’s caught off-guard and perplexed by your sudden need and aggressiveness as you grab her wrists tightly, and then turn her facing the wall. The lust and greed already consumed you and there’s no one stopping you, not even her as you can easily overpower her without breaking a damn sweat.

“I s-said only a single option, bab—”

“No, no, no, Yunjin. That’s not how the games are going to be played—” You spank the creamy flesh in front of you as it jiggles in response, you then smirking as the downfall of Yunjin’s control ensues—herself submitting into pure submissiveness that you dearly wished to see. 

“—I’m the one who’s in fucking control now, Yunjin and don’t tell me you don’t want all of your holes stuffed with only my cock, hm?”

“N-no…”

“No what, Yunjin?”

You gently gripped her neck, choking her as you force an answer to escape from her lips. Such a demand is needed immediately, and you don’t want to be a part of Yunjin's games anymore and you want to show her what exactly you can do to her.

“G-god—I—what I m-mean is that, no—I won’t s-say anything like that b-because this—is—ahh—what I wa-wanted all along!”

“Good.”

You loosen your grip onto her neck and avert your fingers across her clit, stimulating and teasing her and not-so-surprisingly, she moans seductively as the pleasure is starting to get into her and you love seeing how she’s drowning in need—you should’ve done this in front of the restroom’s mirrors, so you can see her ahegao-like expressions that surely, will arouse you further.

“You like that, Yunjin? Like how I make you a whimpering mess on my fingers, hm? Wow, you’re drenched and so fucking wet.”

“Y-yes, baby, I like—”

“Wrong fucking word, Yunjin.”

And then, that hits her, she realizes that she can’t do anything but be the good, submissive toy for her—

“Daddy. I’m very, very sorry, daddy.”

“Good girl—you clever girl, hm?”

You tease her more and more, earning the sexiest of moans escaping out of Yunjin’s mouth as she pleads you to fuck her already but you insist, letting the carnal desires inside you be tamed, for now. You wanted to get her as wet as possible—not to mention how wet her pussy is already, nectar dripping all over her thighs and staining her socks—so you do just that.

“Really want to feel me, huh?”

Another harsh spank to her bubble butt marks it red, enough for the sting of pain to be felt until later as it echoes around the tiny cubicle. You can't wait to feel her tight walls as her desperation and pleas ignite the fuel inside you to resist the temptation and with her continuous pleas to let her out of her misery, a flick of a switch is all it takes as you take her in.

Her velvety walls hug your shaft so tight that you groan in half-pain, half-pleasure—it feels like her pussy walls constrict so hard that its life probably depends on it. With how wet she is, it isn't any hard thrusting in and formulating a pleasurable pace as you form a moderate rhythm from time to time. Her moans were just inevitable too, alongside her chants that were probably part of the symphony of a lewd orchestration of sounds. 

“Fuck me h-harder, daddy! I want it rough s-so what are you waiting f—”

A slap on her butt probably lets her know how you're now in control, and not her yet you think to yourself that you need to destroy her cunt to teach her a lesson. A mere adequate attempt from her for you to play rough with her almost sends you into overdrive as she lures you into the deepest abyss of lust. Even if you deemed her attempts futile and ineffective, you're just saying to yourself how hypocritical you are.

You wanted to ruin the beautiful image of Huh Yunjin, letting everybody probably know how much of a slut she is for cock—

“Don't you fucking worry, Yunjin—I'll pound you so hard and fast that the only thing you'll feel is my cock ravaging your tight, little hole and nothing else. Heck yeah, I would maybe even make you forget your own name and the last thing you'll actually do is beg for my mercy while you can't take it anymore—because I'm going to fucking ruin you, Huh Yunjin, the school's slut.”

Letting out the profanities and the devil inside you, you work your way into making her for you to ultimately use. You waste no times in build-ups as you pound her tight cunt like you're proving something to her—proving how worthy you are to probably own her pussy and how good you'll fuck her throughout this session.

You ram into her hard and fast, letting your animalistic urges take over your body as you didn't stop even a slight second. The clashing of both of your bodies becomes so frequent that sweat is beginning to form onto your forehead and to your back, considering how hard you're fucking her brains out like you're rearranging her guts.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, daddy! You're so deep in me! Keep f-fucking me until you make me a creamy mess! Oh fuck, daddy~”

She moans uncontrollably with every thrust you do into her and she tries to silence it by biting the clothing of her uniform but it wasn't enough. And it's like she can conceal how much of a slut she is for your cock—and there's nothing she can do either. 

She clings onto anywhere she can just to have a greater grip on what's ravaging her pussy. Another attempt of silencing her moans is futile, so you grab her locks, pulling it slowly onto you to let everybody know who she really is.

“You l-like how I fuck your pussy like this, hm, Yunjin? I bet no one fucked this good in your entire life. Let the whole university know how much of a fucking—slut—you are!”

She responds in guttural groans and lustful moans as you drive her insane with your cock—her mind only being flooded about sex, and maybe that only.

“Oh god—daddy, I'm so close! Please let Yunjin cum, please let me cum—cum, cum—I'm cumming!!”

A spank delivered to her backside by your naughty hands is the indication of—

“Then cum, Yunjin—all over… my cock…”

“Gah—ahh!!”

And there she goes, letting everything out as her visceral moans broke the tow, and off she goes, creaming all over your throbbing length like a broken faucet out of control. You want her to take a little breather, so you slow down your thrusts while riding her beautiful orgasm out that lasts for almost a hot minute (roughly like thirty-five seconds but that'll do).

“Now, it's your turn, daddy, hihi~ Cum inside me, please!”

You resume your frantic thrusts and ignore her wants of filling her pussy, aiming to achieve your high too and chasing it as fast as possible.

You definitely want to finish inside her tight, little cunt but a sudden hit of reflection made you think of another option (and also by the fact that a slut like her wants to be bred and you don't want to finish inside her while she's not safe).

She's too spoiled, anyways. With that possible privilege, now is the time to break the tow and maybe, you'll be the first to do it.

“No, Yunjin—” You whisper onto her ears and immediately, and even so, painfully pull out of her pussy as she wails, wanting you to fuck her hole until you ride out your high but you have other ways on settling this mess. “—I'm going to fuck your creamy thighs until I cum, okay? Now, it's up to you to catch all the cum with your hands to taste it or let it go down in waste as I paint the cubicle walls white.”

She definitely wants that idea, for sure. You can sense it even though you can't really see the emotions on her face—she's way too readable now, and there's nothing she can do to let her wants be attended to, either.  

“Daddy's going to fuck these meaty thighs until I cum, okay, Yunjin?”

“Yes, daddy! Please do fuck my thighs—you're still going to fuck me from b-behind, daddy?”

“Yes, Yunjin, and I hope you're prepared.”

She's even more than prepared as you position your throbbing length between her thighs, she then anticipating what's coming next. Her thighs suffocate your cock for dear life and thanks to her wetness dripping down the meaty flesh and also the wetness of your cock due to her own fluids, it wasn't difficult to thrust and hammer between her immaculately perfect thighs.

Thrust after thrust comes moans and groans from you as she hugs your entire shaft tighter than ever, making sure you'll get the utmost pleasure you'll ever desire. Not so long, you're now starting to develop your pace frantically as your hips go wild as the lust drives you into oblivion—the will of greed powering every thrust to chase your nearly-impeded orgasm earlier.

Of course, the inevitable comes closer than you expected.

“I'm so close, Yunjin—fuck! I wanna just fuck these thighs all day. Argh, so fucking close—I'm going to fucking cum!”

“Cum for me, daddy, please!”

It feels like another dormant volcano erupts, sending magnitudes of pleasure all over your body as peak euphoria is achieved within an exhilarating act. Multiple streaks of semen splutters from your slit—probably up to four, if you can count it right—as Yunjin tries to catch it all but all she can do is cling onto the walls . She is unsuccessful in catching the wholeness of your load but manages to capture a little and with her hunger for your taste, she licks the little amount clean on her fingers, humming soundly as she's satisfied to taste your load again.

“Never fails to amaze me, daddy. So delicious, as expected, hihi~”

She then strokes you slowly, not wanting your hardness to die fast as there's more things to do with her. She knows how painful and sensitive you feel right now and her dainty fingers and dexterity of it aims to get you hard (even though you're definitely rock-hard towards her, still) for her as the last course on the menu is nearing. At least she's a bit concerned about what you want to feel, and also concerned with her own pleasure too. 

“Now, daddy—” Yunjin faces you as both your eyes make contact with each other, sparkling with anticipation and greed. She then made the first move as she thought of something that has been lingering inside her mind since you started fucking her almost senseless. “—you said something earlier about fucking my ass and I was thinking that, maybe, you can fuck me while I see your face, daddy. Don't you love the thought of it?”

Of course you do love it and she doesn't need to ask that. You love how lewd her expressions are—even though you can't see it but deep in your heart you know that her face does those expressions inevitably—while you fuck her like it's your last and the pleasure converting her face into pure submissiveness and lust. Also, to top it all off, you want to do something that for sure, will make this experience more than memorable, written down in the history books of your life.

“Of course I do, Yunjin. I'll hammer your ass hard like what I did to your pussy—I'll gape this tight, little asshole so hard that you'll walk out here wobbly and struggling.”

“Then you'll need to carry me out here, daddy. Fuck me until my legs give out—give me everything you got, daddy.”

The sensitivity fades faster than the speed of light as Yunjin's dirty talk reignites the fuel of lust inside you. Handing you the small bottle of lube in her pocket, you lather a decent amount on your hand and spread it onto your cock. You then command her to bend over in order to have a greater grip in spreading the lube around the rim, and the tight walls of her asshole. She lets out a ragged breath and a moan as the cold liquid comes into contact onto her puckered hole. You continue lathering her asshole with lube and warming her up until she breaks the silence.

“Daddy, I h-have something to confess to you…”

“What is it, Yunjin?”

It takes her several seconds to respond as the pleasure of teasing her asshole with your fingers is getting over the limit of her nerves to handle—it's maybe too much to handle but she never insists you to stop and you won't.

“My ass, hasn't been fucked, yet—and y-you're probably going to be the first one who will open me up in my other h-hole…”

A bold confession to a girl like her is a bit surprising as it feels like she already experienced a lot more than what you could imagine but that expectation falters once it's factual that she still has her anal virginity—you can hear the sincerity in her voice.

“B-But you've experienced this before, Yunjin? Like with your toys and stuff?”

A hint of sweat drips down your forehead as you're a little bit nervous considering that maybe, it is really her first time experiencing a phallic object will be taken up in her ass.

Even though you're driven mad with lust, there's still heart in you and concern came first.

“Yeah… Only a couple of times with a dildo but it never really felt the same but now—” Yunjin holds both sides of your arms as her eyes ignite with seriousness, wanting you to fulfill her needs by feeling your length up in her ass for the first time.

One thing's for sure before you make a move: she'll be tighter than ever, and even may rival the tightness of the gripping walls of her pussy.

Knowing how well-lubed up her rim and your already throbbing length are, you waste no time and impale Yunjin's incredibly tight asshole with your rod. Even with just the mushroom-shaped tip inside her inviting hole, you can't fathom how incredibly tight she is. She eases up her muscles for both of your comfort and slowly, and surely, you insert your length into her deeper and deeper, the lubrication really helping out a lot.

“It s-still feels a bit weird—but anyways, fuck me daddy! I c-can take it!”

“Really, Yunjin? You sure?”

A broken melody escapes her lips and interrupts her moans, “Yes, daddy—please just fuck my ass… I c-can take it.”

And who are you to refuse that? No, you won't and now having a better grip of her ass—and thanks to her anal muscles easing up and helping you fight against the incredible vacuum-like tightness—you start thrusting into her, slowly and delicately, cherish every second of fucking her incredible ass. You spank her buttocks hard as a moan from hers is the response, the moan of need and lust as she smiles almost maniacally at you, feeling euphoric from the experience. 

As much as you want to see her get fucked with her uniform still on—because it's one of your fetishes—you want to see what she's packing underneath that white blouse of hers. You then immediately latch your hands on the buttons of her uniform, undressing it slowly and thankfully, Yunjin doesn't care and wants to get herself naked for you, letting you see what she has in store for you and you're probably going to drool with the sight of that.

Like a prophet, you did predict your own actions almost accurately as undressing her final defense, which is her white-laced bra. With her sheepish expressions maybe because of your possible disappointed judgment, you reassure her as you are met with a perky set of her mounds with taut pink nipples that you're ready to drool over with.

“Sorry if it's not too—”

“You're not sorry, Yunjin—” You up the ante of your pace of hammering her ass as you fondle the soft, pillowy flesh in front of you, making her moan in ecstasy as everything seems going perfect for her. 

“—in fact, I love it so much—mwah—wanna suck on these all night, not gonna lie—fuck, you're incredibly hot, Yunjin.”

“Gah—ahh! Daddy! T-thank you for that. You make m-me feel so good—so, so good, daddy!”

With your frantic pace of thrusts inside her tight hole, you can't help but moan soundly as it feels way too euphoric to be true. Latching your tongue lightly onto her erect bud, she moans in delight, and it is so hot that it keeps you going. You also want to stimulate her so much that you want the dam inside her to break, and considering how she's been touching herself since the start of your anal session, she'll get on her euphoric high in no time.

“Gah—daddy, I'm going to fucking cum! So, so much—all over you, daddy!”

Announcing the nearing peak of her orgasm, you fuck her gaped hole like an animal in intense need, letting the lust and your ultimate will inside you power your hips to do the fastest, most uncontrollable thrusts known to man. Your urge to destroy her asshole and her asshole only is indomitable as the devil inside takes over you, plowing her ass like it's your last. 

You're close and she knows it well considering how much you're throbbing inside her. She knows this and that's why she helps you chase your own orgasm too and hers, wanting to cum with you in unison.

“I'm close too, Yunjin—I'm going to fucking cum balls deep inside this incredible ass of yours—I'm going to fucking cum!”

“Me too, daddy—cum with me, please!”

And there goes everything.

The rush of adrenaline through your veins soon comes to an end and so do your thrusts. You buried down your entire length inside her walls, filling her up to the hilt and the goal has now been achieved: filling her absolutely with thick shots of semen, painting her insides white.

It is euphoric rearranging her guts to the fullest. Groan after groan comes spurts of your load being deposited inside her ass as her moans encourage you for more and so you do. Yunjin herself reaches her high as she sprays her nectar all over your toned abdomen as she comes harder than earlier, leaving her breathless and enervated from the wildest session she had been. After your orgasm has died out, you then slowly pull out of her—and she's still oh-so-tight even though she has been gaped like crazy with your actions—to see what you've done—to see what you've become: a monster, blinded by lust as every drip of white leaks out slowly, out of her asshole. She then reaches for her metallic buttplug and inserts it inside her puckered hole slowly as she doesn't want the cum dripping out of her thighs after she walks out of here—she's still in public, so that makes sense and she doesn't want to get embarrassed.

You filled her well. Too well. She's going to feel that load until later.

Not wanting the moment to die so fast, you initiate another heated kiss with her again as she immediately reciprocates, letting her know how much you loved this moment and how you'll cherish this, forever.

“God, daddy—you still filled me up so well… I'm also sure, you're completely drained, right?”

“Yeah, Yunjin… *coos* I'm way too drained—thanks for this, though. It felt very euphoric—and good. Thank you…”

“No, baby—I need to thank you. You made me feel like this and I never felt this before—like, this felt enchanting, meeting you…”

You faintly smile and face her, blushing from her remarks. You then kiss each other for the last time, wanting to savor the built-up need and lust for this one moment, once more. With a little panic making your heart skip a beat, you then help her prepare herself and yourself, cleaning what you also could so no one will suspect all of the sinful events that happened inside this cubicle.

“I could barely feel my legs though, baby...”

“Oh no—will you get in trouble for that, Yunjin?”

“You'll need to carry me out if here, baby—that's what it means, hihi~”

Panic courses through you as you're shocked on what she said, not prepared on what she's really planning.

“I'm kidding, baby—I can still walk though. I'll just make up an excuse that my feet just feels painful suddenly. Neither of us will get in trouble, don't worry.”

You then slowly unlock the cubicle door, making it “vacant” and then, open it. Yunjin kisses your cheek one more time as a token of gratitude before smiling at you genuinely, her eyes speaking words of being thankful for such an incredibly euphoric session.

“Oh! Before I leave—give me your phone, baby.”

“I d-don't have it on me, right now…”

You know where this is going and you don't want this opportunity to fade away. You frown in disbelief of your phone being nowhere near you as it's on your locker yet with a clever mind like her, she opts for another option, also, not wasting this opportunity.

“Do you… have a ballpen though? Like... any kind?”

That, you do. 

Without any time to waste, you give her your black ballpoint pen as she grabs your hand gently, going to use it as the canvas.

“Hope you don't mind this, baby and… there you go! That's mine, okay? Text me when you get home, okay? I'll be gone for now and… thank you, again—so, so much, baby. You may leave after me for like—uhm… a few minutes so no one will suspect what we did here, baby, hehe~”

And you're now captivated with her. Who are you to blame though? A girl like her will make any other men go crazy but in this moment, she's the only one you see and so she is. You loved this moment and so she did too, and that concludes another exhilarating yet memorable day for you.

You seized every opportunity you had with her at that given moment, and you're glad that you've opened them all up.

“Bye, baby, see you tomorrow—or… maybe later, hihi~”

What a day written into your own history books. It truly is and you wanted more…

[milksnake-tea]

For the event, Nanook with Augst 8 but instead reader is the one got hurt

❀ ˎˊ- prompts: They come home beaten, bloody, and bruised. ❀ ˎˊ- 1k followers event ❀ ˎˊ- character: nanook ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: implications of physical violence, mentions of bruises and blood, nanook is scary ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: im scared of nanook but also incredibly attracted to them ALSO WHAT IS IT WITH YALL AND ASKING TO GET BEAT UP /LHJ but ykw i know u asked for angst but i kinda made it fluffy imsorry. not really satisified w how this ended but i think its okay

Honestly, whoever did this to you was an idiot.

It was one thing to antagonize the lover of the Destruction. It was another to physically hurt them.

So either your assaulter had a death wish, or a severe deficit in braincells. Although, you weren't too keen on the idea of just running to your lover - knowing them, Nanook would break all of hell loose, giving them a fate worse than death itself.

You sighed to yourself as you rubbed at your cheek, which had already begun to bruise. Thankfully, you weren't hurt too bad, so you could probably just brush it off with a few bandages and ointment. All you had to do was to hope that Nanook wasn't home today.

But of course, fate wasn't on your side.

The second you opened the door to your shared room with the Aeon, what greeted you was a sight of Nanook in their mortal form, lounging on the bed. They weren't doing anything in particular, simply staring up off into space as golden specks flickered around them like fireflies.

Their eyes flicked to you the moment you walked through the doorway. Slowly, their gaze roamed your body, zeroing in on your injuries - evidence of a fight.

Their expression barely changed, save for the slightest narrowing of their eyes. But the atmosphere immediately dampened, as though a black hole had came and sucked all of the air out of the room. The pressure dropped so quickly that your ears popped, and you winced.

Noticing your discomfort, Nanook immediately snapped out of their momentary rage, and the air went back to normal - only slightly, though.

Wordlessly, they beckoned you towards them with a finger, their right arm open for you. Cautiously, you sat down on the bed, allowing Nanook to wrap their arm around you and pull you close.

They studied your bruise carefully, running their finger across it. Swiping their thumb against it, a bit of their power seeped into you, instantly mending your wound.

"Healed by the Destruction," you couldn't help but muse, leaning your head against their broad shoulder. "How ironic. Aren't all Aeons bound their Paths?"

Nanook only hummed, a deep rumbling in their chest. "I've strayed from my Path twice before. The first was when I fell for you. The second is now. Clearly, the laws of the universe are not as rigid as you make them out to be."

"I guess," you shrugged, closing your eyes. Nanook doesn't breathe, nor do they have a heartbeat, but they are warm. Warmer than a human, more like a flame, if anything. "You're not going to ask who did it?"

"I already know," they merely replied. You couldn't help but feel as though their gaze was quite literally burning into your skin as they stared down at you. "I will take care of them, do not worry."

"Don't overdo it," you sighed, shifting into a comfortable position. "The last time you went after someone who hurt me, you destroyed an entire planet."

"I was killing two birds with one stone," they explained matter-of-factly. You laughed, squinting your eyes at them.

"Mmm, I suppose you were," you admitted. Nanook only smiled briefly before poking your nose.

"You should get go wash up," they advised. "You're filthy."

"Gee, thanks," you scoffed, but stood up regardless. You stretched for a bit, rolling out your shoulders before kissing Nanook on the cheek, and then you were off to the bathroom.

But as you closed shower door, and the Aeon heard water running, Nanook's gaze darkened. They dissipated into golden sparks, the only thing that hinted at their existence being a divot in the bed where they had once laid.

That night, as you peacefully rested, unaware of what was happening, your attacker awoke to flames - dark, dark flames devouring their home world as the Destruction watched from afar, the burning planet resting in their dark hand.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[biteofcherry]

To find the light, we must first touch the darkness

Please also check out @bluepinkangel​’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you unexpectedly are appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings: dark!Steve Rogers; manipulation; death threats; power imbalance; forced relationship; brief mention of choking kink; 

I did warn you this Steve is dark 😜

word count: 5.3k

Touch the Darkness Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter 3. In the eye of the storm

~ * ~ 

You didn’t fight Rogers when he dragged you toward his car. For one, you were no match for him physically, though maybe you could treat his calf with your heel as you did your previous attackers. 

Secondly, you didn’t want to be strangled right away, or - if you chose the positive thinking route - have a chloroform rag pressed over your mouth. 

Your brain suffered enough for one day, losing extra brain cells due to unprofessionally used sedatives wasn’t something you’d like to experience.

You almost sighed in relief as you sank into the buttery soft leathers of the backseat. Closing your eyes, you inwardly checked off answers to basic questions - what was your name, what was the date, who was the current president, deducting seven from one hundred. 

You were at seventy two when strong fingers gripped your chin, tilting your head up and to the side. 

“Eyes on me.” Rogers commanded.

You opened your eyes instantly - not because he ordered, but to glare at him. At least that’s what you told yourself. 

He stared at you for a long moment, occasionally moving your head side to side. You realized he was watching your pupils react in the dimmed light. 

“I think I’m the one more equipped to be assessing neurological damage.” You snorted, trying to bat his hand away.

Rogers’ grip on your chin tightened as he caught your wrist in his other hand, forcing your hand down into your lap. He inched his face closer. The blue of his eyes were a brilliant splash of color in the otherwise dark surroundings. They almost made you dizzy all over again.

“Out of the two of us, I have more experience in immediate reactions. You deal with patients already stabilized.” He pointed out.

He released you, but didn’t move away; hovering so close his breath caressed the underside of your jaw. 

“Immediate reactions-” you huffed under your breath, “you check vitals of all the people you’ve beaten to the ground? Make sure they last a little longer before you’re done with them?”

“No, Princess.” Steve’s voice sounded light, contrasting with the heavy words he spoke: “I watch the light leave their eyes.” 

Jesus. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline still pumping fresh in your system, you’d curl into a ball and break out in sobs that your fate was at the feet of someone so ruthless. The fact he didn’t say it with glee was the only sign of a very thin line separating Rogers from a psychopath. 

Though indifference to something so cruel wasn’t a sign of empathy either. 

“However,” he finally leaned back a little, his eyes not once straying from your face, “I wasn’t the one who beat you to the ground. And I’m quite pleased the ordeal didn't chase away the sparks from your eyes.” 

As much as it irked you that Rogers found some amusement in your defiance, you clung to it, since it meant he wasn’t set cold on disposing of you. 

“Who was it then?” You asked, turning your head to peer through the window. 

“I told you, others will come for you.” One of his hands curled into a fist for a short moment, a muscle in his jaw twitching in tension. “I hoped they wouldn’t reach you until you said your words to me, but I forgot how rash and stupid some of my so-called opponents are.”  

At the start of the day you were blissfully oblivious to the existence of men like Steve Rogers. And by the end of it you had not only him barging into your life, but other mobsters too. 

You felt nauseous just from the thought of it. 

“They’re stupid for wanting the same thing you do?” It really wasn’t your aim to irritate your captor (posing as savior), but you gave yourself permission to be annoyed with this whole situation. 

“Nah, Princess. They’re stupid thinking they can take it from me.” 

Cocky words, but spoken with calm conviction of someone honed in fighting. Someone who won each fight he participated in.

It dawned on you that Steve’s previous warning of others coming to you with offers was only to manipulate you. Sure, as proved, others did come. But Rogers not for a second planned on giving you the opportunity to take sides with any of his rivals.

Which is probably how he got to you so fast - because he had someone watching you. No matter who, or how, tried to reach you, Rogers was going to intervene one way or another.

“Well, I can.” You muttered defiantly, resting your head back against the seat. “I still can say no.”

“Sure you can.” Steve’s tone held no anger, nor amusement. He sounded rather bored. 

And it fucking annoyed you! 

That he was indifferent to you putting up a fight, as if he could easily sway your decision with a snap of his fingers. 

The only thing stopping you from an outburst (and maybe trying to scratch his stupidly pretty face) was the voice of reason that your self-preservation instinct screamed at you. Because if you did any of those things, you’d probably end up dead. 

The front passenger’s door opened and a man slid in. Few strands of his dark hair escaped the tied bun. He made a single motion with his hand and the driver, without a question, started the car. 

“Rumlow’s goons?” Rogers asked, meeting the other man’s gaze in the rearview mirror. 

“Yep.” Came a dispassionate reply. “Widow’s gonna wait for the cleaning team then scoop the rat out of his hole. Should she bring him to the pit, or-”

“Bring him first to me.” Roger’s voice was like a slowly unsheathed sword.

When his eyes shifted to look at you as he spoke, you felt the heaviness of that blade settling on your shoulder, inching to cut off your head. Something told you that Rogers wanted you to witness the bloody spectacle, as if his words alone didn’t terrify you enough. 

As the car pulled out of the center’s parking lot, you caught a glimpse of your own car through the window. Rogers still had your keys. 

“Should I give your driver my address, or assume you know it already?” You asked Steve.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling cold creeping up your skin despite warm wafts of heat distributed in the mobster's fine car. 

Adrenaline was slowly dying out, allowing the shock of the day’s mad events to take over your body. You considered yourself resilient, but it didn’t mean you were immune to stress and anxiety. 

“You know that I know it already.” Steve’s hand slid beneath your chin, cupping it surprisingly gently and turning your head so you looked at him. 

It provided a surge of warmth and comfort, despite the logical part of your brain recognizing its source as the most dangerous threat to you at the moment. 

“You’re also smart enough to know that you’re not going home tonight.” 

Steve’s words, if spoken by someone else, may have elicited a sense of security and comfort. But his intention wasn’t to care for you after a traumatic event and you wouldn’t fool yourself by projecting sympathetic traits onto him. 

Recklessly, you lunged for the side door, ready to jump out of a moving car. It wouldn’t be that bad, since you were already battered and the car was still moving quite slowly. 

Your fingers barely grazed the door handle when Rogers caught your wrists in a painfully hard grip. 

He yanked you backwards, your side bumping into his wide chest. Crossing your wrists together, he clasped them in one of his large hands. His other arm snuck around your back, hand slipping beneath your hip to hoist you up and over Rogers’ lap. 

“Now that,” he gruffed into your ear once he had you settled against him, “was purely stupid, Princess.” 

You sat frozen still, shocked from the way he positioned you and scared of how he’d answer your escape attempt. 

He held your crossed wrists to your chest, his other arm wrapped around your middle to ensure you sat in his lap and not try to flee again. His encompassing heat and strength overwhelmed you, spurring your heart into a rapid beat. 

“Be good and stay still, or I’ll tie you up in knots so intricate you’ll sweat with the shallowest breath.”

Fuck. You clenched your eyes shut, forcing your body to calm down.

If this was a threat of torture, Rogers sure made it sound like a dark promise of a more carnal nature. 

Then again, weren’t some of the worst medieval tortures the slow, seemingly harmless ones? You remembered learning of the one where a victim was bound down and had water slowly drip on their forehead. But it was continuous and from a height that made each drop feel like a little rock. Until it drilled through the skull. 

The way Steve handled you was messing with your head, too.

Cords of muscles in his arms, constricting you tightly, held the strength to cause immediate pain. They also lifted you up from the asphalt, provided security and support. As false as the sense of it was, you believed the protection of Rogers’ possessiveness. 

His thick thighs beneath you felt hard, definitely less comfortable than the leather seats. Your skin seemed to feel the coarse sturdiness of them even through the fabric of your pantsuit. 

It was humiliating. 

Especially with the way a spark of heat flickered to life in your belly. 

Women your age sat in a man’s lap for sexual purposes. Intimate purposes. 

A part of you knew that many assholes in a position of power - like a mobster - would push the situation further. Threats of physical violence, of rape, worked the best, right? 

And yet, Rogers wasn’t groping you. His hands didn’t stray much as he held you in place, while continuing to talk with his man in the front seat. 

It was a smart manipulation - making you thankful that he didn’t violate you, thus making you more comfortable and pliant to what he further demanded. 

When the car finally reached its destination, Rogers’ henchman stepped out to open the side door for you. Steve, with an annoying ease, lifted you off his lap and moved you closer to the exit, so you could step out. He quickly followed after, his fingers immediately circling your wrist to tug you along with him. 

Your heels weren’t that high, but they still wobbled on the gravel driveway in front of an impressive, Tudor style house. You felt more stable once you stepped onto a stone step at the entrance, but no matter the surface beneath your feet you definitely didn’t feel secure in the whole situation. 

Rogers released your arm once the door closed behind you, so sure of you following him obediently without him prompting you. 

It wasn’t like you had any other choice, anyway. 

You could spontaneously attempt an escape, but it would be stupid and pathetic since you didn’t even know where through the house you’d find an escape route, and the men keeping guard on the other side of the door would be as movable as a brick wall.

Besides, you had no certainty that Rogers wouldn’t simply take out his gun. 

Even if you didn’t see one, it didn't mean he wasn’t carrying. 

Steve led you through the spacious living room toward an open kitchen; motioned at you to sit down at the big, wooden dining table in the dining area next to the renovated but still rustical kitchen. Light, quite cozy space threw you off a bit. You’d first expect some dark office in which the mobster dealt with his business, where he’d once again make you an offer you couldn’t refuse. 

Instead, he ventured to the kitchen and put a kettle on the massive stove. 

“How do you take your tea?” He asked, so casually you were starting to wonder if you did not in fact have a brain damage and it was all a hallucination.

“Excuse me?” You stared at him. 

“I know you drink tea. It’s what you had in a cup on your desk earlier today.” He didn’t even glance your way as he opened a cupboard and took out a cup. “So, how do you take your tea? Black or green? Sugar?”

“Green,” you replied. You definitely needed something calming. 

“Are you hungry?” Steve leaned his hip against the counter of the kitchen island, arms crossed over his chest as he looked your way. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” You raised your voice, feeling exasperation and utter confusion. 

Combined, they made you more anxious. 

A muscle in his jaw twitched, the only sign of displeasure at your outburst. He slowly moved, taking off his leather jacket as he walked towards you. Once he placed the jacket over the backseat of one of the dining chairs, you noticed the gun holstered to his side. 

Undoubtedly, a purposeful showing of the threat he still posed, despite offering you tea. 

“We’re going to have a chat, which will make you even less happy,” he declared, towering above you. “It may take time. After today’s events, I suspect you may be down on energy, so I’m offering you a meal.”

“Well, my cook is off at this time, so you can’t hope for anything fancy-” he shrugged, turning his back to you and walking away to brew your tea- “but I make a mean grilled cheese sandwich.” 

“No, thank you,” you gritted through your teeth. 

It was hard to fight the urge to throw something at him, preferably knocking him out, then running away. You noticed french doors, probably leading to the garden, but something told you that you wouldn’t be able to get far before Rogers catches you.

A few moments later Steve placed a cup of steaming tea in front of you, with a fucking cookie on the saucer as if he was having you over for friendly chit chat. 

He sat opposite of you, on the other end of the table. You doubted it was because he was truly scared of you throwing hot tea at him. Rather wanted to maintain his level of power, seating himself at the head of the table like a king.

Tudor style house, taking dominating positions, rings shining on his fingers - he truly carried himself like a modern, dark king. 

He had the sleeves of his henley slightly pulled up, revealing more of the tattoos you noticed earlier. His other forearm was covered in swirls of black and color, as well. A protruding vein slithered beneath the ink, surprising you that it was still visible under tattoos. 

You wondered for a brief second, where else on his body the ink spread. 

Where else veins lead to nooks and dark discoveries…

A glint of his gun, when your gaze brushed over the wide span on Rogers’ chest, pulled you back to reality.   

“This is the part where you tell me you were right and that you can protect me from others?” You peered at Steve over the rim of your cup. 

The fact Rogers saved you, in a way, from a kidnapping and potential further pain, didn’t mean it was an act of genuine chivalry. There was also nothing indicating he couldn’t have staged the whole thing.

You’d be naive not to consider that scenario, especially since Rogers proved to be a very smart, subtle manipulator (though you also had a feeling he’d shed that subtlety in a blink of an eye, exposing the ruthless brutality of his rotten core, if you stepped too far). 

“This is the part where I show you not only I can protect you, but I will erase anything that poses a threat to my accouterments.” 

There was something in his tone that elicited a shiver of fear. The use of word erase, which suddenly transformed your concept of defiance’s consequences of pain and torture into ultimate death. 

There was also the other word that drew your attention. 

“Accouterments?” Slowly, you set the cup back on the saucer. 

“That what belongs to me-” Steve’s eyes bore a cold flame of a monstrous dragon daring someone to steal a single coin from his treasure- “and those who are of use to me.” 

An invisible fist clenched around your heart. 

As much as you hated the implication of being someone of use to Steve Rogers, it was a tad less scary than him labeling you as something belonging to him.

Belonging meant forever bound. It meant no escape.

Before you dared to point out you may not be of use, since you still wanted to refuse his deal, the door opened and multiple footsteps echoed. There was some shuffling, too. 

Your gaze flicked up over Steve’s shoulder, while he didn’t even flinch. He kept his eyes on you as you took in the scene unfolding behind him. A true horror, making the previous events of this day a merely inconvenient struggle. Cold dread spread through your limbs, washing away even the crackling anger that buzzed in your chest a few seconds ago.

Rogers’ henchman - called Bucky, if you heard right - pushed forward a battered and bound Felix.

Felix, who looked smaller and weaker next to these men in his posture alone. You still remembered how terrified he looked when Rogers first came into the center, you couldn’t imagine the damage the brutal treatment had to cause. 

His clothes were rumpled, his hair matted with blood that still slowly seeped from the gash on his forehead. His hands were bound with a zip tie.

“Oh my God!” You jumped to your feet.

You were itching to rush to him, rip him away from the grasp of the man looming right next to him, but you were aware there were a few obstacles in your way. The main one being Rogers. 

“Sit down, Princess,” Steve commanded calmly. 

“Let him go!” You demanded. Your eyes stung with tears, but you kept your gaze on poor Felix. “Haven’t you done enough? He plays no part in this!”

Your leg twitched, right foot taking a hesitant step forward. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor froze you in place. In your peripheral vision you saw Rogers stand up. 

He crossed the floor to you in a few long strides and stood in front of you, blocking your vision of Felix completely. Strong, long fingers curled around the front of your neck. The hot power radiating off of them and the feeling of cold, hard metal of his rings pressing into your skin caused your breath to hitch in your chest.

Your eyes flew up to Steve’s face in an instant; pupils widening and lips parting on a choked gasp. 

Cold blue depths of his eyes ignited with a triumphant recognition at your reaction. 

“Sit down, Princess.” He repeated his order, still calmly, but his tone was sharper. A snap of a whip to remind you of your place. 

Your knees weakened, bending obediently at his command. His hand remained locked on your throat as you sat down in your chair. He held you in his grip a moment longer, thumb brushing down along the column of your throat to chase the wicked pulse beneath your skin.

Then he released you, moving only a step to the side and half-sitting on the dining table. He motioned at Bucky to come a little closer with their victim, so that both you and Steve could see Felix and what was about to unfold. 

“Your dutiful employee plays a bigger part in all of this, than you think.” Rogers addressed you. 

“Do you know,” he rested one of his hands on the table, fingers slowly rapping against the sturdy surface (rings on his fingers caught wicked flickers of light), “that the men who tried to kidnap you today are a part of Brock Rumlow’s pitiful mob? They call themselves Hydra.” 

As if on cue, Bucky gripped Felix’s shoulder with one gloved hand and with his other hand yanked up the blood-stained fabric of his shirt. 

Exposing a tattoo on Felix’s ribs; one presenting a skull with some kind of tentacles. 

You assumed it was supposed to be the symbol of the aforementioned Hydra. 

“Felix here,” Steve tilted his head slightly your way, “has alarmed them of my visit and the importance of getting to you, even though he doesn’t really understand what I want.” 

Rogers’ fingers stopped their motion against the table and you sensed it’s bad when he goes still. He stood up once again, straightening to his full form. With your eyes somehow glued to Steve’s impressive form, you didn’t notice Felix gulp nervously and try to lean away from the approaching predator. 

“I understand dutiful soldiers. I appreciate them, truly.” Rogers gave a small nod of acknowledgement. “Especially when they remain loyal even when pissing their pants out of fear.” 

Felix current, as well earlier trepidation was true. People who heard of what Rogers was capable of dreaded any contact with him, especially people like Felix who was only gathering and bringing information. He wasn’t an enforcer who’d clench his teeth and try to shoot his way out of the mess. 

“Pity it wastes on someone like Rumlow.” Steve snorted, his eyes showing distaste as he looked Felix over. “Who won’t even retaliate for losing a pathetic rat like you.” 

“To the pit with him.” He declared, not an ounce of mercy in the heaviness of his voice.

Bucky dragged Felix away, despite the man trying his best to struggle against the clearly stronger opponent. No one even paused at your cry of protest. 

“Don’t! Don’t kill him.” You begged Steve when he turned to you.

The hard set of his jaw warned you that he was becoming annoyed with you. He kicked back the chair that was the closest to you and dropped down onto it. Placing his elbow on the table once again exposed the gun at his side.

In a sick way, it was a display of mercy that he hasn’t used it yet.

Not on you. And not on Felix, killing him right in front of your eyes. 

“With your spitfire personality, I didn’t take you for such a softie, Princess.” Steve studied you, though you weren’t sure if it was a shard of fascination or further annoyance with you. 

“He relayed information not only now, about you. But also about Howard when he lived, as well any important person who ever crossed the threshold of the health center. Important not only in terms of social position, but of potential usefulness.”

Privacy and confidentiality were one of the most important aspects of your line of work, you respected it to a point of becoming difficult for a few people in your former workplaces. Learning of that breach would turn you merciless, too, but you’d only fire Felix, not kill him. 

“Say that the son of one of your patient’s is a border guard.” Steve mused, though you had a feeling it wasn’t just a hypothetical example, but actual truth. “People like that are useful in my line of work. Approaching him around the center is so much more convenient than staging it elsewhere. Plus, there’s also the aspect of his father’s rehabilitation that can be used as a motivator.”  

“And how do you know that?” You spat bitterly.

Your anger was simmering anew. At Rogers, at Felix, at the whole fucked up world your reality suddenly turned out to be. 

A slow, wolfish smile curved Steve’s lips; sinister as well as tempting to come closer.

“Maybe two more heads grow when you chop off someone from Hydra, but a few of their vital organs are transplants from me. Their head is stupid enough he doesn’t expect it.” He revealed.

Perhaps Hydra was depicted as having tentacles all around, but it seemed Steve Rogers’ ties reached deeper and further. 

You strongly believed he had an ear at every institution, on every street, at every company. Seeking out help, in any desperate form, would sooner bring you to your doom. And now that you were on his radar, it was best to remain in moderately good grace than face the terror of seeing someone else you care for at the end of Rogers’ barrel. 

“You could’ve spared me that,” you frowned and bowed your head, your focus on the cooling tea in your cup. “Seeing Felix like that. Or anyone else.”

“Why do you think I had him taken out from here? So you didn’t have to see it, Princess.” Steve’s casual voice boasted a twisted kind of mercy. 

“But it's something you should get accustomed to. It’s the world you’ll be living in from now on.”

You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest (mostly to hide the trembling in your hands). Rogers has forced himself into your life, leaving a red stain of blood in his wake, but you wouldn’t allow him to dirty up all of your space. 

Compartmentalizing was your salvation. At least you hoped to hone that skill. 

“No.” You swallowed and dared to lift up your head, meet his gaze. “I may sign over the health center to you, but I don’t need to dip my fingers into anything else that has to do with you.” 

There was no point in claiming you won’t give up the center, he proved there would be only sorrow and despair if you tried to defy him. You didn’t want to see anyone else executed, not even hear about it being done in retaliation for your stubbornness. 

No, you’d give him that bloody ownership of the place, try to maintain as much good work as it could provide (if he still allowed you to run it properly), but not cry over a scrap of land, because life was more important than it. 

“A little too late for that, Princess.”

Something dark gleamed in Steve’s eyes; not a sign of an immediate danger, not even a threat, but it raised the hair on your nape. 

“We’ve established that you want to continue the center’s work,” he said. “I have nothing against it. In fact it will serve me well that you keep the center running impeccably. You remaining its owner, serves me even better. Takes the attention off of me.”   

There should be joy at the implication you’d be left alone to run the center and help people, but Steve’s choice of words - and knowing now that he was always two steps ahead, scheming - made you even more wary.

“You want me to work for you? Run some seedy business under the guise of the health center?” You narrowed your eyes.

“No.” He didn’t smile, but his face glowed in smug victory. “You will take my last name.”

You gaped at him. 

Soundlessly, unmoving. Just blinking as your brain refused to process the words he had just spoken nonchalantly. You tried to re-hear them, replaying the sentence in your head to seek for a different meaning than the one which was obvious. 

Steve cocked his head to the side, amusement forming cute crinkles around his eyes as he watched you. 

“Now, say yes to me, Princess. And eat your cookie,” he motioned the untouched cookie on the saucer. 

A second passed. Then another.

Suddenly, you grabbed the cookie and threw it straight at Rogers’ face. Jumping up to your feet rapidly, you didn’t even notice Steve caught the biscuit in his hand. You were aiming for the door, not once glancing over your shoulder.

“Hell the fuck no!” You cursed as you stomped to the exit. “I’m so done. Done with this fucking bullshit! What the fuck? The actual fuck?!” 

You didn’t even care if a scuffle with some bodyguards awaited you when you reached the door; you were ready to claw some eyes out. The sound of a chair moving behind you only added to your pace, accelerating your heart rate. 

But there were no heavy steps following you. No one grabbed you. A fleeting thought that he could simply shoot you, crossed your mind. 

No pain spread through your body yet. 

There was no one outside when you opened the door. Not a sign of any goons, not a sign of a car either. You wobbled a bit when your feet sunk into the gravel of the driveway, but you kept on marching forward. Adamant on getting the hell out of here and out of any deals with Steve fucking Rogers, you were ready to walk through unknown woods and empty roads. 

“Who inherits after your death?” Steve called out after you, his voice so calm and swift it was a blade that stopped you mid-step. 

He didn’t run after you; didn’t yell at you to return to him. He merely spoke words that pierced you harder than a rain of bullets.

“Is it your parents? I reckon they’d be agreeable to pass the center to the benefactor’s hands, especially being so grief stricken after losing their only daughter.”

Slowly, you turned on your heel. Rogers stood in the doorway, leaning against it, with arms crossed over his chest. 

“If they wanted to hold on to the center as a last thread connecting them to you, I guess I’d have no choice but to help them out of their misery.” 

He was a devil, you were sure of it. A fucking devil, with a face of an angel so eager to sin he’d burn the world down just to satisfy his hunger. 

Steve uncrossed his arms and crooked a finger at you, beckoning you to him. Swallowing hard, you took a tentative step forward. Then another. Everything inside you still screamed at you to run, hide from him under a rock in some God forsaken lands, but the pull he had over you didn’t let you retreat. 

His gaze didn’t move from you even for a second, watching your approach with growing satisfaction. 

When you stepped onto the threshold, Steve reached his hand out and stroked a single digit along your cheek. Which was surprisingly dry, though you expected yourself to be drowning in tears.

Despite knowing how lethal he was, despite hearing death threats from him just seconds ago, you didn’t flinch away. Somehow knowing that now, as you reluctantly accepted the fate he forged for you, he wouldn’t hurt you. 

Or maybe it was a fool's hope. 

“Say yes to me, Princess.” He tipped your chin up with his finger.

“Yes,” you gritted out, hands clenched into fists at your sides.

“You will marry me.” He wasn’t even asking as he moved his hand to cup the side of your face.

“I will marry you, you fucking bastard.” You had to agree, didn’t mean you had to be nice about it. 

Steve grinned, ice in his eyes bursting into deceiving sunlight. 

When his mouth took yours in possession, surprise ripped a gasp out of your chest (which melted against his lips). Your eyes closed - perhaps instinctively, or maybe in the rush of chaotic feelings that lulled your adrenaline spike with suddenly evoked endorphins. 

His scent, his heat, his strength, surrounded you. They drew you in, trapping you in some sort of a wicked wonderland into which your body was eagerly melting, despite your brain’s awareness of the calamity it meant. 

Steve’s kiss posed the same threat - a ruthless demand of your complete surrender, led by soft, quite sweet tasting lips. 

Your hands fell to his shoulders when he pushed you back against the doorframe. Your pulse skyrocketed as the hand on your cheek slid down, ringed fingers curling around your neck. When his tightening grip made you moan, Steve chuckled against your lips and pulled back. 

“We have a deal, Princess.” 

It sounded as much an iron decree it was, as also a promise of life for you and those close to you.

[nelkcats]

Ghost Blood

Bad things happen to good people

------------------------------------

The Justice League and the Justice League Dark had met to discuss something extremely important and confidential: the end of the world.

While this was something they faced on a weekly basis, this time it was different. It had started when the chaos lords found an ancient ritual to gain power, and multiple villains joined them to complete the requirements. Klarion, who had noticed that the spell was going to end the world sooner or later, informed the heroes.

The problem was that the spell was already underway, and it was a process that could not be stopped. They had a couple of hours left before all the known horrors in the universe would take an interest in Earth.

The Justice League Dark was overworked, all of them looked extremely exhausted. Even Deadman offered to help but there was little he could do. As they discussed how to proceed, Constantine grabbed an old spell book he was leafing through and angrily threw it to the ground, catching everyone's attention.

"Bloody hell" the Brit glared at the ground angrily "so fucking close".

His companions asked him what was going on, to which Constantine informed them that there was a solution to their current problem. Some sort of powerful cancelation spell that would solve their problems. He saw their hopeful faces and sighed, he supposed he should break their hopes sooner than later.

"We can't use it" the Hellbazer said wearily.

"Why not?" Wonder Woman looked at him frustrated "if it's the only option, surely we can-"

"We can't use it because one of the ingredients doesn't exist!" Constantine blurted out, furious. He had analyzed all the options and that was the only one that might work, but the essential ingredient was missing.

"The spell requires ghost blood" John commented after calming down, desperation could be heard in his voice "but ghosts don't have blood, their blood is ectoplasm, it's impossible!"

Deadman had suddenly gone silent.

"There would have to be a hybrid or something but clearly they don't exist, it's too unlikely."

The League, which had previously perked up at the possible solution, sank back in disappointment. Zatanna, however, noticed the ghost's reaction and watched him curiously.

"...What if it's possible?" Deadman's voice was heard in the silence. Constantine had made him visible to the others during the investigation but the ghost was not used to the attention.

"It's not, it's not possible to combine life and death, the balance would have been broken one way or another" Constantine denied.

"John, what if it's possible?" Deadman repeated "what if a hybrid exists?"

What if the hybrid is the balance?

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Constantine observed his friend. Ghost blood was a myth, mentioned in many books but never used.

"Don't get too excited" the ghost warned "there is a hybrid with that kind of blood but he's not-, he doesn't trust humans anymore, for a very good reason."

"However, he does exist" Wonder Woman said in disbelief "can you tell us more?"

Deadman looked around at the nearly destroyed dimension and begged the Ancients for forgiveness for what he was about to do.

"He was born by the Realms and for the Realms, he's a good boy" Deadman sighed, revealing the secret he was never supposed to mention "but as you well know, bad things happen to good people."

The ghost thought of the communique that had reached all the ghosts. On how the Ancients had taken in a child, how they had demanded that he needed to be left alone.

"It's not my place to say what happened" and he didn't have many details either, though gossip traveled fast "but he doesn't trust anyone beyond his guardians, he hates adults and he's scared of needles and other medical instruments, I don't think he'll be much help."

"We have to try, there's not much time left" Batman frowned. Something inside him stirred at the mention of an injured child "Can you tell us where he is?"

"The Infinite Realms" Constantine replied instantly, lighting a cigarette, his hands were shaking "But who are his guardians?"

"The Ancients" Deadman replied "and if you want their help, you really must come up with a plan."

It was obvious that only the Justice League Dark had understood the implications of all this, they were pale and looked scared. Even Dr. Fate and Marvel looked like the end of the world had been confirmed.

"I can take you there" the ghost said, nostalgic at the thought of visiting the dimension "time doesn't work the same there, so you won't spend much time even if it takes weeks to get close, but you can't all go, you'll scare him off"

"We'll go" Captain Marvel spoke up, overcoming his fear "if it's the only option, we'll go."

Little did they know that from the Infinite Realms the Master of Time was watching them with a raised eyebrow. The Ancient shook his head, knowing he should prepare for visitors before heading to the couch next to his screens. Danny was reclining there, sipping hot chocolate and bundled up in one of his cloaks.

The halfa greeted him looking relaxed but Clockwork wouldn't be fooled by that (he could still see the boy, his boy, with his chest wounded, crying for help), he reached over to stroke his protégé's hair affectionately, thinking of ways to get rid of his visitors. While Danny was likely to want to help, he couldn't care less about what happened to that dimension.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Picasso

after months of silent pining over the boy across the hall, y/n finds herself face to face with the one person she can’t seem to get off her mind. a friendly dinner and a night spent in the art studio leads to more truth being revealed than either bargained for. a profession of attraction leads to an opportunity for an unconventional hookup, where Sam gets to make her first time unforgettable.

COLLEGE DORM AU

Read aftermath here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it, folks), virgin/virginity talk, losing virginity (sam the v card thief 🫣), praise kink, pet names, sexual anxiety/performance anxiety, soft gentle sex (fuck me up fr), fluff, swearing, anxiety, embarrassing crushes, sorry if I miss any!

😮‍💨 sorry this took so long folks. it’s a lengthy one, so prepare yourself. i got a bit carried away. soft Sam fucks me up real bad. hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing it!! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

~

You weren’t sure who he was. You had no idea where he was from, what he was studying, or if he even knew you existed. Still, that didn’t seem to stop the awkward staring, or the blushing cheeks, or even the speeding heart rate every time he came into your line of vision. You hated yourself for the uncontrollable longing you felt for the boy across the hall, knowing that you would forever be too nervous to approach first. The first few months of your university experience were relatively normal; meeting friends, studying relentlessly, and trying to navigate a brand new life that was so foreign from the last. Then, after the novelty of freshman year wore off, and the hallways were routinely more empty than you’d grown used to, you started to run into him.

The first time you saw him, you almost missed him. You only noticed the back of his head as he disappeared around the corner. But, almost as if fate was playing a sick trick on you, he happened to forget something in his room. When he came back around the corner, giving you the opportunity to see his face, it felt as though you’d received a punch to the stomach. Thankfully, he was in too much of a rush to notice your staring. His long, brown hair looked messy, yet perfectly styled around his slender face. His jawline was sharp, angled gracefully into a perfect chin. The space just above held his lips, a permanent upturn in the corner adorned on them, although barely noticeable in passing. His brown eyes looked inviting, a colour you could spend all day lost in. Once he passed you, you knew it was too late; you’d already fallen for him, and there was no escape.

Perhaps it was because you came from a small town, one where all of the boys looked like the same person, just in a different font. You’d never met a boy who caught your eye quite like he did. He had a charming aura without even speaking, which was impossible to attain, according to your standards. You never really wasted time on dating, more or less finding it pointless. You were well aware there was no person to find in your town that would work out long-term. You were never a date for heartbreak type, understanding that there was no need of having a relationship if you start it with a pre-existing condition that it will inevitably end. You had a few bad experiences with the boys you’d given a chance, and never tried again. It wasn’t worth the hurt, or the trouble, so you kept to yourself. But, whatever it was about the boy across the hall, you were certain if you ever got the chance, you’d want it to last a lifetime.

After the initial shock of seeing him, you seemed to notice him everywhere. Every time you left your room, his door was open, or he was in the hallway talking to his friends. He was always running into you at meal hall, taking post in your favourite spots in the library, and even in some of your classes. You had no idea how you’d gone so long without noticing him, because now, he never ceased to exist in your mind and your life. You’d never managed to get the nerve to speak with him, or even muster a wave when he passed by. The most the two of you shared was a smile each morning; which admittedly, made your day a whole lot better every time. As unfortunate as it was, the two of you had mastered the art of remaining strangers despite the constant desire to be more.

You never verbalized your feelings to anyone, not your friends, or even yourself. You thought it was a bit ridiculous to be infatuated with someone solely based on looks. Yet, you found yourself creating a fabricated version of him, one that you deducted based on what you noticed over the passing weeks. One where he was funny, in a sarcastic or a goofy type of way. One where he was very laid back, but very involved in the lives of the people he loved. And the worst one of all; one where he was fantastic in bed. You thought it was alright to daydream, even if you would never know for certain in this lifetime.

Despite your mostly quiet pining, everybody around you was well aware of how you felt about mystery boy. Your friends seemed to take extra measures to point him out in a public setting, or ‘unintentionally’ cross paths with him. They never admitted it, but you knew what they were doing. Instead of fighting about it, which would only give them the answer they so desperately wanted from you, you laughed alongside them at the ‘strange coincidences’. Although, one thing inherently positive that came from the whole ordeal, was that you’d made acquaintance’s with his best friend, Danny. You’d found out that he was also in a few of your classes, and lived on the floor above you.

He occasionally stopped by your room for a quick chat, or some help with projects. He was friendly, and tall, and quite attractive, too. You never mentioned his friend that lived across the hall, and he didn’t, either. As far as you were concerned, your friendship with Danny would remain just as such, with no hidden implications about the beautiful boy he spent most his time with. Never once would you ever want to make him feel like you’d become friends with him just to get closer to his best friend, because you didn’t. Any hello, or how are you, or any of the conversations you’d shared had always been because you wanted to talk to him. You liked him, and just so happened to find it much easier to strike conversations with him, too.

You walked down the hallway, pushing your way through the swarms of people preparing to leave for spring break. That Friday marked the end of classes for a week, meaning that lots of people were either packing up to return home for a few days, or headed somewhere much warmer to drink themselves into oblivion. You had opted to stay for the week, finding no real desire to visit your family, and having no available funds to travel the world. All of your friends were leaving, presenting a fantastic opportunity for you to catch up on some schoolwork. You keyed into your room, dropping your bag on your bed and kicking your shoes off. You threw on your slippers and took your hair down from its clip.

You walked into your bathroom, seeing a note stuck on the mirror. You pulled it off, reading over the scribbled words. Your suite mate had left for the week, wishing you a good time and telling you she’d see you soon. You smiled, slipping it into your pocket to add to your collection of first-year memorabilia. You had an elaborate final project planned for your introductory art class, and you were collecting as many pieces to add to it as possible, wanting nothing more than to make a showstopper. You fixed your makeup in the mirror and combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to sharpen yourself up after a long day of classes. As you returned to your room, you heard a knock on your door.

When you opened it, you saw a familiar, smiling face. “Well hello.” You said, pulling the door open fully.

“Hey, Picasso.” Danny greeted. “What are you up to?”

“Just got back, actually. I stayed late at the studio. Trying to get my practical piece done for my painting class.”

“I see. Have you started the essay for poetry?” You shook your head, stomach sinking at the thought.

“I was going to start that this weekend. I just picked my topic. I’ve got a couple years worth of Shakespeare sonnets to read.” Danny was an English major, and you were an arts major, but your classes seemed to cross due to your minor in writing.

“That’s such a cop out topic,” He teased, leaning against the door frame. “And it’s spring break, aren’t you supposed to be having fun?”

“Fuck you.” You laughed, waving your hand to invite him inside. “Spring break is only fun for rich kids taking business majors.” You joked.

“Us arts kids know how to have fun, too, you know. We don’t have to get on a plane to do that.” He reminded you, walking inside and taking a seat on your bed.

“Well, what about you, then? Any big plans?”

“Frankenmuth.” He said, trying to make it sound more exciting than it was. You raised an eyebrow at him, expecting something more to the statement, but that was all he said.

“Enthralling.” You laughed, taking a seat in your desk chair. You watched the people pass by in the hallway, no real thoughts in your head. “Just you going?” You asked, eyes falling on the door closed just across from yours.

“Yeah, my friends are gonna stay here. Just thought I’d go back and visit the parents for a few days. Don’t think I’m staying the whole week.”

“Nothing wrong with that, Danny boy.” You said, flipping your laptop open that was sitting on your desk. “When are you leaving?”

“Tonight, probably. I like driving at night.” You were okay with that, completely agreeing with his statement. There was something very peaceful about driving in the dark, especially when the roads are mostly barren. It was almost like time stood still. You knew the drive wasn’t too long for him, so you had faith he would be alright. “That’s why I came to see you.”

“You’re so sweet,” you grinned, opening Netflix and throwing on the most recently watched show. “Gonna miss me?”

“Of course, Picasso.” He said as if it were obvious. “Come with me, if you want.” He offered.

“You wouldn’t want me to tag along, your parents might like me too much.” He laughed at your words.

“And that’s a problem?”

“You wanna listen to them ask about me for the rest of your life?” You teased.

“Doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.” He shrugged.

“You’re too nice for your own good.” You chuckled. “As much as I would love to spend reading week with you, I very much need access to an art studio and shitty, free coffee refills from the library.”

“I know,” he assured you. “If you change your mind, offers there.”

“Thanks, Danny.” You said, more sincerity in your tone than before.

“The reason I came down here though, was to see if you wanted to grab dinner with us before I leave.”

“Us?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side.

“Yeah, me and Sam. I know you told me your friends already left, so I thought maybe you’d like some company.”

“Oh, so it’s a pity invite?” You smirked. He rolled his eyes.

“No, I want you to come. Thought that was kind of obvious.”

“Just pulling your leg.” You assured him. “Uh, who’s Sam?” You laughed, feeling a little ridiculous for not knowing. He watched you with confusion, waiting to see if you were joking.

“Sam? Kiszka? Like, the guy who lives across the hall?” He asked, completely baffled. “You don’t know Sam?”

“Oh!” Your cheeks turned crimson. “Yeah, I know who he is. That’s your best friend, right?” Danny nodded. “Yeah, I know him. Just didn’t know his name. Never really spoke to the guy.” You laughed, trying to pass off the awkwardness.

“Fuck, y/n, I thought you guys knew each other! I’m sorry I didn’t introduce him to you.”

“No! Don’t be sorry, Danny.” You waved it off. “I never brought it up, either.”

“That’s weird though, cause he definitely knows you. He knew who you were when I mentioned we were working together on that last poetry assignment. I was under the impression that you guys were neighbourly.” He shrugged, confusion still lingering in his features.

“Oh, uh… I guess my names on my whiteboard. Maybe that’s why. He’s definitely seen me around. We smile at each other and stuff in the halls, but that’s about it.” Danny eyed you almost as if he didn’t believe you.

“Well, he seems pretty fond of you for someone he only smiles at in the hallway.” You felt the blush rise to your cheeks again, embarrassed even at the thought of him mentioning your name. “You do know him, don’t you?”

“No, I swear I’m telling you the truth.” You raised your hands in defence. He watched you, scanning your face for a hint of a lie. After a second, his expression lit up.

“You have a crush on him!” He bellowed, feeling accomplished for finally solving the mystery. Your head whipped to the open door, making sure nobody was in the hallway.

“Shut up!” You hissed, making a move to shut the door. “I do not!” You said once you protected the privacy.

“That’s a lie, Picasso.” He let out a disapproving tsk.

“I don’t even know the guy.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, he’s attractive, but I can’t exactly like someone I don’t know.”

“Sure you can, and you do.” He grinned. “And you’ll like him even more after dinner tonight.” He decided.

“So now I don’t have a choice if I go or not?”

“No, not at all. I’ll leave you to get ready. He should be back around 6.” Danny stood, not willing to hear any protests.

“Danny, if you say anything to him, I swear to god I will kill-“

“Lips are sealed, Picasso. See you at six.” He sent you a wink before disappearing out the door. You felt your stomach twist in knots, nervous that Danny was going to mention something to him.

You distracted yourself by scouring your closet for something acceptable to wear. You cursed him for leaving so soon; he didn’t even tell you where you were going. You had no idea if you should dress nice, or casual. As you checked the time, you decided that somewhere in the middle would be suitable. A nice shirt and a pair of black jeans, just to dress it down a bit. You went to the bathroom and quickly ran your curling iron through your hair with no real effort, just to give it a bit of volume. You brushed your teeth and touched up your makeup again, spritzing on some perfume before you walked back to your room. You threw on some jewelry, deciding if you were going to properly meet mystery boy, or Sam, rather, you were going to make a good first impression.

When the clock struck six, there was an insistent knock on your door. When you opened it, Danny was beaming down at you once more. “You clean up good, Picasso.” He complimented. Rarely did he ever see you out of your studio clothes; you were always covered in paint, or plaster, or some other sort of artistic expression. You spent more time in the studio than you did anywhere else. Of course, the workload was heavy even for first year, but you spent a lot of free time there, too. It was great for your mental health, and aside from your projects, you made smaller pieces to sell on the side. Unlimited access to art tools was a huge benefit to going to the university you chose, and your talent allowed you to make some extra money. Making a living off something you loved to do made your university experience a million times better.

“Thanks, Daniel.” You laughed. “Ready to go?” You asked.

“Yeah, you?” You nodded. You threw on a denim jacket, finishing off the outfit. You joined Danny in the hall, looking around to spot Sam. When you didn’t see him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment.

“Where are we going?” You asked, distracting yourself from the feeling.

“There’s this little Italian restaurant downtown. I’ve been meaning to try it, but never got around to it. Figured tonight was as good as any other night. Is that cool with you?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m not picky.” You assured him.

“Awesome.” He breathed, making a move to the other side of the hallway. He stood before Sam’s door, sending a knock echoing through the air. Within a few seconds, the door swung open to reveal the boy you couldn’t seem to get out of your head. His hair was slightly damp, and the smell of his shampoo hit you almost instantly. He pointed at you without a word, causing you to shoot him a nervous look. He got a small laugh at your reaction.

“You copied my outfit.” He accused, a goofy smile etched onto his expression. You looked down at what you were wearing, then back to him. You were both wearing Jean jackets with a black base layer. After a second, you laughed, too.

“Guess so.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the incessant butterflies running rampant in your stomach. “I’m y/n,” you held a hand out to shake.

“Sam.” He said, reciprocating the gesture. “I guess we’ve never properly introduced ourselves.” He noted.

“Not very neighbourly of us, was it?” You chuckled. His eyes lingered over you, taking in the whole sight before humming an agreement. You desperately tried to fight away the blush rising to your cheeks, but failed miserably. You hoped he didn’t notice.

“I hear from Daniel that you’re quite the artist.” He said, the smile never leaving his face. At his words, the redness on your cheeks completely took over, leaving no doubt that he could see it.

“Modern day Picasso, actually.” Danny corrected.

“You’ll have to show me, sometime.” Sam’s tone was soft, no tone of sarcasm present.

“Maybe I can sneak you into the studio someday.” You offered.

“It’s a date, then.” He said it so effortlessly, like the words meant nothing, but it set every nerve in your body on fire.

“G-guess so,” you tried to cover up your stutter, but they certainly noticed. You were thankful they didn’t comment on it. Sam stepped into the hallway, closing his door behind him. The three of you ventured towards the exit of the building without another word.

The evening was cool, but not unbearable. By the time you’d walked to the restaurant, you had managed to shake some of the nervousness off. The small chatter and jokes eased the tension by miles, allowing you to enjoy the company rather than fear embarrassment. Danny went inside first, Sam holding the door open for both of you. You muttered a small thank you, disappearing inside of the building. The smell of the food was fantastic, and the decoration and atmosphere was incredibly inviting. Danny noticed a ‘seat yourself’ sign, taking it open himself to lead the group to a booth. He slid in one side and you sat across from him. Sam looked between the two seats, ultimately deciding to sit next to you. The booth was tiny, and as he settled and got comfortable, his leg was gently resting against yours. You felt your heart speed, trying not to focus on the constant contact.

You all ordered after taking a good look over the menu. As you were waiting, Sam turned to you to speak. “So, Picasso,” he started. You turned your head to look at him, strangely pleased at the way the nickname sounded on his tongue. “Any travel plans for the week?”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “Love them, but my family drives me crazy, and I have too much work to get done to go anywhere else.” You admitted. “You?”

“No, I thought it was best to stay, too. I get what you mean about the family thing. Love them to death, but peace and quiet is nice, sometimes.” He chuckled. “Daniel will have to go on the journey alone.”

“So you guys are from the same town?” You looked between the two. They both nodded.

“Yeah, best friends since, what, middle school?” Danny laughed.

“Pretty much.” Sam agreed.

“That’s cool, actually. Nice that you guys have a piece of home here with you.”

“What about you? Any piece of home here?” You shook your head.

“No, and thank god there isn’t. Wanted to get the hell out of my hometown and start over. It’s worked so far.” You explained.

“Where are you from?” Sam asked, now intrigued.

“Arizona. Small town in the middle of nowhere, where everybody looks and acts the same and you get chastised if you’re any different.”

“Mind-numbing.” He replied. You nodded, unable to agree more. “Everybody needs originality.”

“Not them, apparently. I couldn’t wait to leave, and I never want to go back.” You almost shuddered at the thought.

“So where after this?” Sam never let his eyes leave you, as if he wanted to engrave every detail of your face in his mind.

“Uh, wherever, I guess. I haven’t really thought about it. I may travel for a while if I can before I commit to anywhere.”

“Smart woman,” he gave a small smile. “Know your options before you settle down.”

“Yeah, I suppose you could look at it that way.” Your conversation was interrupted by the waitress bringing drinks and setting them in front of you. You sipped from your straw, pondering what to speak about, next. “What are you taking, Sam?” You suddenly remembered you hadn’t asked him, yet.

“Oh, music theory.” He said. You eyed him in shock, not expecting that answer.

“What instrument?”

“Piano, on the paper at least.” He laughed. “I like playing bass and guitar more, but I figured they’d be more likely to accept me with piano as my focus.”

“Smart move.” You pondered the information for a moment. “Listen to this one,” you caught both of their attention. “So, Picasso, Shakespeare and Billy Joel walk into an Italian restaurant,” you started, causing a chorus of laughter from both boys.

“You play a piano once and you can never escape the Billy Joel jokes.” Sam shook his head, ghost of a laugh still lingering on his lips. You couldn’t help but admire him, feeling the overwhelming curiosity of wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

“You’ll be alright, piano man.” Danny assured him.

“Yeah, you can even sing us a song, if you want. That might make you feel better.” He shot you a look of warning, but there was visible humour laced in it. The both of you were feeling the nervous tension melt away more by the second.

The time passed too quickly for your liking; the meal was fantastic and the company was even better. When the time to leave came around, you were begging the clock just for another minute. You had spent the whole night beating yourself up for not getting over your fear and speaking with Sam sooner. Aside from him being incredibly attractive, he was funny, and charming, and quite sweet, too. You felt like you’d missed out on a lot. Even if nothing romantic happened, you’d could consider yourself content just being his friend. When the waitress brought the bills over, Sam took it upon himself to ensure you couldn’t get your hands on the debit machine. As you all filtered back outside into the cool night air, your feeling of nervousness returned. Looking at Sam, how the glow from the street lights casted over his face, how his hair flowed in solidarity, messy but perfect all in one, made you realize that knowing him only made the desire so much stronger.

Somewhere deep down you hoped he was an asshole, so you could finally shake the hopeless feeling of need for him. The more you talked to him, the more you fell for the goofiness of his aura, the humour he wore so proudly, or the kindness permanently anchored behind his words. He was more than just a pretty face, and to you, it was devastating. The last thing you wanted was to fall for someone, but you were well aware that it had happened long before your night of pasta critique. “You headed back to dorm?” Sam asked, his hand on your upper arm breaking you from your thoughts. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off your brains’ incessant reminders of what it felt like to be touched by him.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“I’m headed out, now, I think.” Danny said, looking between the two of you. “Packed the car earlier, so I should hit the road.”

“Oh,” you breathed, trying to keep your eyes on him, and him only. “Which lot are you parked in?”

“The one by our building. I’ll walk back with you guys.” You nodded at his words, feeling a sudden rush of relief knowing you wouldn’t have to walk alone with Sam. Not that you would mind being alone with him, more of a fear of embarrassing yourself somehow. The three of you started the short walk with few words exchanged in the process. When you reached the entrance to the parking lot, you all stopped to bid a farewell.

Danny pulled you into a quick hug, thanking you for going to dinner. He hugged Sam, letting him know he’d text him when he was back home. “Might text for poetry help.” You smiled at him.

“You could text me just to say hi, too, you know.” Danny reminded.

“That is my way of saying hi.” You laughed. “Too nervous to be upfront.”

“No need for that, Picasso. I’ll see you guys soon.” He promised. You and Sam waved goodbye as he parted from the trio, leaving the two of you to yourselves. You kept your eyes glued to the ground, wanting to look anywhere other than his beautiful face.

“You have anywhere to be?” Sam eventually spoke. You found the courage to meet his eyes, feeling the butterflies erupt in your stomach once more.

“I was thinking about heading to the studio, actually.” You very much enjoyed your 24/7 access to the art building. It made your usually boring weekends a bit more enjoyable.

“Care for some company?” He smiled.

“You trying to get me in trouble, piano man?” You smirked.

“Nobody will ever know I was there.” He promised. You pondered the idea, realizing that it was more than likely nobody would be there, anyway. It was usually quite barren in the evenings, even more so considering the week-long holiday.

“Okay.” You nodded, holding your hand out for him to grab. “Come on.” He wasted no time slipping his hand into yours. You took off in a run back to the dorm with him following closely behind. You both made it to the front entrance of the building, keying in and immediately running to your rooms. “I just have to change.” You told him before disappearing into your room. You quickly changed into your work clothes, realizing how embarrassing the new outfit was. There was old paint stains on the t-shirt and jeans, years worth of artistic memories begging to be washed away. You didn’t waste too much time dwelling, too eager to be back in Sam’s company.

You were nervous to be alone with him, but the thrill of seclusion with him was overshadowing anything else. You thought maybe you’d be able to unravel some of the mystery, to get a chance to hear about his stories and memories that were hidden away. When you went back into the hallway, Sam was waiting for you. He had also changed into different clothes, a pair of sweatpants and a tattered old band shirt with the logo worn down to just a shadow. He had a sly smile graced his lips. “Ready?” You breathed. He gave a nod, silently hoping you’d reach out for his hand again. When you started walking down the hall, he followed after you, only momentary disappointment taking over.

You walked side by side to the art building, buzzing with unspoken excitement. When you reached the doorway, you scanned your access card on the reader and the lock clicked open. As you pulled on the handle, you looked back at him and pressed a finger to your lips, signalling for him to stay quiet, just in case anyone else was around. Regular students were allowed in the art building during office hours, but art students were the only ones granted access outside of normal school times. You were sure you’d only get a slap on the wrist if someone realized he wasn’t an art student, but you still didn’t want to take the chance. He nodded, ensuring he wouldn’t make a peep. You took his hand again, leading him inside and directly to the stairwell to the basement.

You took a sigh of relief when you let the studio door close behind you. You went right to your small locker where you stored your paint supplies and brushes. You unlocked it with a tiny key you kept around your neck. You pulled out your belongings, nodding Sam in the direction of the main room. The bright fluorescent lights were nothing new to you, but it seemed like it almost caught him off guard. You set your stuff down on a desk and grabbed an easel, carrying it over to where you were planning to sit. “I’ll be right back.” You told him, walking off to a side room. You opened the door, flicking the light on in the small storage space. You grabbed your large canvas, careful not to bump the front of it, worried it still may not have completely dried. You took it back out to the main room and propped it up on the easel, pulling a stool in front of it.

Sam moved a second chair over, sitting beside you. His eyes drifted over the artwork, scanning it intently and drinking up every detail like he needed it to survive. “I see why Danny calls you Picasso, now.” He mumbled, still looking over all of the details. You felt the redness creep up on your cheeks again, flattered at his compliment. “This place anything special to you, or just a stock photo?” There was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well, the cabin is. It’s my family’s. We spent a lot of time up there when I was a kid. The background is pretty dramatized, cause my inspiration pictures were a little bland.” You chuckled. “We’ve been working on landscapes, so I figured I would paint something meaningful.” The large oil painting had the image of the aforementioned cabin nestled in a plot of trees. The leaves were radiating the colours of autumn, and the neutral mountains in the background made the colours stand out. A small stream flowed through the mountain valley, and birds floated through the air. There were patches of flowery grass and bushes covering the ground. The outline was finished, and you’d been working on the intimate details of the piece. You were estimating only a few more hours of work, eager to have this finished so you could move on to the next project.

“It’s stunning.” He said, moving back to look at you again.

“Thanks,” your voice was soft, full of gratitude.

“Have you always wanted to be an artist?” He asked. You thought about the question, pondering the appropriate answer.

“I always loved art, but don’t think I actually decided to study it until late into high school. I never thought I’d be able to make it, but then I entered a few contests and won, and I guess it kind of kick started the process of getting here. At first, my parents weren’t super supportive of the idea. I think they’d rather me be a doctor or a lawyer, but they knew it would only make me miserable. Now that they see what I’m doing, and how happy it makes me, they’re a bit more on board. Their encouragement really helped me feel like I was supposed to be here.” You explained. “Deep down, I probably always knew I would do art for a living, but I fought it for a long time. It’s not really regarded as a ‘profession’, and I think that discouraged me for a long time.”

“Don’t ever feel that way again.” He shook his head, looking back towards the canvas. “Someone with talent like this should never second guess themselves.” You swallowed hard, having a difficult time digesting such a compliment. “This is the type of stuff to end up in galleries.”

“You’ll have to let me design your album art when you release your EP, then.” You smiled.

“You haven’t even heard me play yet.” He brushed the comment off, a small laugh lingering in his words.

“Don’t have to, I just know.” You said, pulling out your glass palate. You sifted through your bag of paints, choosing the colours carefully. You squeezed small amounts on the surface, looking back towards the large painting. You started to work, unsure of where the conversation would lead to next.

“What music do you like?” He asked, watching your hands as you painted.

“Everything.” You said, never losing your focus. “Not picky.”

“You have to have a favourite.” He inquired. A smile tugged at your lips.

“Well, yeah.” You rolled your eyes.

“What is it, then?” He laughed, eyes moving to your face.

“Guess.” You thought if he wanted to get to know you, he could work for it, first. At least a little bit.

“You’re a classical person, aren’t you?” You looked at him through the corner of your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

“Insulting,” you replied. “You think I’m that boring?” You teased.

“Worth a shot.” He shrugged. “Rock?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I like metal, too, but I mostly stick with rock.”

“Never would have guessed the metal part.” His surprise was showing in his expression.

“Yeah, well, I have lots of tricks up my sleeve.” You chuckled, wiping your brush on your apron.

“Can’t wait to figure them out.” His words were smooth, concise, even, as if he was waiting to deliver the line the whole night. Your stomach fluttered with the thought of him wanting to know more about you. You both fell into a silence, eventually playing music off your phone to fill the stale air. You were fine without words exchanged; you enjoyed him sitting with you while you worked. He didn’t seem to mind either, enthralled in your technique. “What’s your favourite thing to paint?” He eventually disturbed the quiet.

“I like nature. It’s always so calming to recreate. So many different options, and imperfections don’t cause an issue, because nature isn’t perfect. I think that’s what makes it beautiful.” You explained. He nodded along, hoping you would keep talking. You noticed, feeling less reserved about your ramblings, realizing you wanted to share them with him. “Nature is the only constant. It was here from the beginning, and it will be here long after we die, even if it’s changed million times. It carries infinite memories from every era, and it’s our only consistency in this lifetime, and the ones previous. I like the idea of a timeless art piece. If someone looks at this a hundred years from now, they’ll be able to appreciate it the same way we can. Nobody will have to wonder about the origins of the picture. People die, animals pass, but the earth always outlives us. When the day comes and it dies, too, we go with it.” He nodded again, studying your face. He had been for a while, although you hadn’t really noticed. He was watching the way your eyes focused when you were doing delicate work, or how your lips pursed when your brush wasn’t doing exactly what you wanted it to. He also noticed every time you let out a minuscule sigh, content with the flow of the paint, or when you smiled when a familiar song came on the shuffle. He’d been studying you just as much as you did, him, admiring you just the same. He was enthralled in your presence, also never expecting to have you this close to him.

The art of your silent admiration had left little room for belief of a chance for it to happen so intimately. He was basking in the moment, in you. The smell of the paint and your perfume was embedding the memory in his brain forever. The beauty in your passion was electrifying, and he was certain he could watch it all day. He also felt the same when he passed you in the hallways, and caught himself peeking into your room when you had the door open. He felt the same fluster when you smiled at him, and awaited the conversations when Danny spoke your name. He also struggled with the idea of talking to you first, worried about rejection or embarrassment. From what he’d seen, you never showed an inkling of interest, and he didn’t want to come off in the wrong way. When Danny brought the idea of inviting you to dinner, he nearly jumped at the opportunity. Sam’s feelings had also remained quite silent, although his childhood best friend was quick to catch on to the situation. Now with a promise to both of you that your emotions would be kept a secret, it was up to both of you to figure things out. All Danny could do was cheer you on from both sides. “You’ve got a beautiful way of seeing the world.” He noted.

“If you don’t love the earth, you can’t expect it to love you back.” You said, finally turning to look over at him. You were caught off guard at his proximity, noticing he had definitely moved closer since you’d started working. He was sitting a little ahead of you, but his body was turned to be angled towards you. When he caught your surprised look, he gave a small smile.

“I thought you wanted to come and see the art, Sam.” You teased, finding the confidence to make a quick pass about his position.

“I’m looking at it.” He quipped back without a moment of hesitation. You opened your mouth to reply, but couldn’t find any words, flustered at the proclamation. Without another word, he turned to look back at the canvas, leaving you to wonder if his words were satire, or if they had meaning. You took a few seconds to recover, but ultimately pushed the statement to the back of your mind. You continued on, dabbing blots of paint onto the picture and blending it gently. “You know, if you’re looking for a customer, I’d be happy to take this off your hands when you’re finished.”

“You couldn’t afford me, Kiszka.” You joked, using the tip of your finger to get a better blend on a saturated area. You fixed it up with a brush afterwards.

“You think so?” He hummed, not bothering to turn and face you.

“I know so.” You told him, wiping your hand on the apron. You weren’t sure if it was the months of tension catching up to you, or the exhaustion, or the smell of his cologne, but you were desperate for him to turn and face you again. “If you want it, it’s yours.” You breathed, deciding to drop the facade. “Once it’s graded, I have nowhere to put it.”

“How much do you want for it?” He asked, still facing away from you.

“Free, for you.” You said softly, a smile creeping up on you.

“Absolutely not.” He turned now, finally meeting your eyes. “You worked hard on it, you used your own materials. I’m giving you something for it.” He said, finality dripping in his tone. You couldn’t help but shift under his gaze, the authority sending a pleasant jolt of electricity through you.

“Think of it as a token of friendship.” You whispered, unable to stop yourself from looking over his features. The admiration in your eyes was impossible to overlook.

“Friendship?” He questioned after a moment of silence, a new sense of confidence washing over him. “Ouch,” he said, the same cocky smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. You bit the inside of your lip, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You weren’t so willing to fall for the idea that he may have felt the same way. Instead of turning away, he watched you, hoping you’d make a notion of reciprocation. After the shock wore off, you started to understand that he was being serious.

“Courtship?” You corrected yourself, feeling your heart drumming against your chest.

“I think I like that better,” he whispered, eyes falling down to your lips for a second before correcting himself. “Do you?”

“I certainly don’t have an issue with it.” You admitted. He watched you carefully, almost as if he was nervous to advance the situation any further. After a moment of deliberation, he reached his hand up and cupped your cheek, using his thumb to wipe off a smudge of paint.

“Some paint,” he informed you.

“Oh,” you breathed, eyes never leaving him. “Did you get it all?” He inspected further, tucking some hair behind your ear as he did so.

“Mm, I think I missed a spot.” He deducted. You set your palate and brush on the table, not wanting to miss a moment of him. He advanced further, but only slightly, pretending to look harder. You couldn’t fight back a smile. “Want me to get it?” He looked back up at your eyes, hand never moving from your cheek.

“Okay,” you nodded, playing into his act.

“You sure?” He asked again, mostly to tease, but he also wanted to ensure you were comfortable.

“Positive.” You promised. Without wasting any more time, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.

It was soft, but his lips felt like they were burning into your skin. You reached your own hand out, letting it fall to the back of his neck. You pulled him closer, careful not to get any paint on his clothes in the process. He ran his tongue across your bottom lip, practically begging for more. You were quick to respond, parting your lips and allowing him to deepen the kiss. His other hand slipped to your hip, letting his fingers gently sink into the skin. When he pulled away, you were both breathless and craving more. He let his forehead rest on yours, dreading putting any more distance between your bodies. You gave a smile, unsure of what else you could do to express how you felt. It was like months of torture finally derived into pleasure. No more watching him as he walked past, wondering about his name or what it would be like to say it, or hear him say yours. No more wondering what it felt like to be kissed by him, because now, you knew, and it was way better than you ever imagined. “I’m not sure if I got it.” He admitted, causing a giggle from you. He pulled you in for another kiss, this one shorter and more lighthearted.

“Is it gone?” You asked, intoxicated from the feeling of his lips.

“If I said no, would you believe me?” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Yeah, just because I’d like to kiss you again, though.” His thumb trailed over your cheek as he rested his hand on your jaw. He placed a small peck on your lips, causing you to hum in satisfaction. “I wanted to do that for a really long time.” You said. He pulled back a bit, taking in your expression.

“Me, too.” He chuckled.

“Really?” He gave a nod.

“Since the first time I saw you.”

“Me, too.” You copied his earlier statement. “It’s been a long couple months of admiring you from a distance.”

“Why’d you never say anything?” He questioned, hand still keeping a delicate hold on your face.

“I was scared. Thought maybe you’d think I was weird, or you’d be an asshole. You’re too pretty to be nice, too. It’s not fair.” You laughed. “I didn’t even think you knew I existed.”

“How could I not?” He was almost offended at the thought. You shrugged your shoulders. “You’re the only person I’ve been looking at.” You felt your cheeks heat up again, angry that you couldn’t hide your emotion. “Danny’s been begging me to talk to you for weeks, but I guess I was scared, too.” It clicked in your brain, suddenly making sense why he was so excited when you told him you thought Sam was cute.

“Doesn’t matter,” You told him “We know now.” He nodded, agreeing silently. “Did you want to go back to my room, maybe?” You realized your statement was a bit forward only after you’d said it, but you didn’t really care. You were too caught up in the moment to worry about moving too fast, or any what-if’s. Your small amount of worry was subsided when he immediately stood, holding his hand out to you. You took it, letting him help you stand.

Both of you made quick work at cleaning up the mess you made, buzzing with excitement at the idea of being alone together. Within a few minutes, you had his hand in yours, and you were guiding him back through the unfamiliar building. You checked the main floor before you emerged, making sure there was no security checking out the place. You knew they could be assholes, and almost always asked for an access pass. When you deducted the coast was clear, you pulled him through the lobby and out the front door. You were both in a fit of giggles by the time you reached the dorm building, fumbling with keycards to let yourselves in. The hallways were barren, almost all of the students already gone for their spring trips. It made your journey all the faster, allowing you to make it to your room in record time without any interruption.

You opened the door for him, motioning got him to go inside first. He did so, eyes immediately taking in the sight. He’d caught glimpses of your room, but never got the chance to really see it. There was artwork plastered over the walls, some yours and some from your friends, or even reprints of famous artists. There were ambient lights bordering the ceilings, set to a constant colour. There were paintbrushes and textbooks littering your desk, along with a few empty coffee cups. There were a plethora of Polaroids hung on your bulletin board, a receipt book of memories from the lifetime he wanted to so badly know about. The smell of your perfume lingered in the air and your bed, although messy, looked extraordinarily inviting.

You gave him a small smile, nervous about what he was thinking. “I love it in here.” He said, almost like he could read your mind. You let out a small sigh of relief. His eyes drifted towards the small clay sculptures you’d been messing around with. He leaned closer, smiling at the intricate detail.

“You should come over more often, then.” You smiled.

“I think you’re gonna have a hard time getting rid of me, now.” He laughed. The sound was more beautiful than any you’d heard before.

“Fine by me.” You admitted. “I’m gonna change out of these. Just give me a minute.” He nodded, watching you as you picked some clothes from your closet. You brought them to the bathroom, changing into the shorts and t-shirt. You looked at yourself in the mirror, nearly wincing at the sight. You quickly fixed your makeup with your fingers and brushed your teeth. You sprayed a bit more perfume on the new clothes, and rejoined him. He was still standing awkwardly by your desk, unsure of where to sit. “You can sit on the bed.” You smiled, finding the timidity cute.

“Oh, okay.” He said, looking towards the mattress and sitting down.

“Did you want to watch a movie?” You asked.

“Sure.” He grinned. You went to your laptop, quickly logging in and pulling up Netflix. “I don’t care what we watch.” He admitted. You put on one of the first recommended movies, turning the volume up slightly. You climbed into bed next to him, propping a pillow against the wall and leaning back. He did the same, settling next to you, much closer than anyone else would normally sit.

The intro credits rolled for the movie, giving you a moment to relax from the close proximity. You leaned into him slightly, but not enough to make it obvious. You pulled your comforter over your legs, snuggling into the warmth. You let your hand rest on top of the blanket as you eyed his sitting in his lap. You’d been on dates, but not once since you moved away from your hometown had you felt so adolescent in romance. It felt like you were going through the motions for the first time, completely blind in knowledge. You had no idea how to approach him, how to initiate any of the intimacy you’d been yearning for. You hadn’t noticed you were staring at him, but he certainly did. He looked over to you, giving you a small, soft smile. In response, it made your heart skip a beat.

He took the opportunity to reach over and slip his hand into yours, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The contact immediately subsided your anxiety, and you finally felt the ability to focus on the screen. After a few moments, you even found the courage to rest your head on his shoulder. The both of you watched the movie in silence, his thumb rubbing small circles over the back of your hand while you did so. As the film progressed, so did your comfortability. By the middle of it, you both had shifted dramatically. He was laying down, and you were resting atop of him, head nestled in his chest. His palm was firmly planted on your lower back, and his other gently tracing shapes into your arm. If you weren’t so energized from being so close to him, you were certain you could fall asleep in that position.

His hand that was on your arm moved to your face, fingers gently pushing your hair away. You closed your eyes, revelling in the feeling. He gently combed through the knots before settling his hand back on your cheek. He guided you to look up at him, sending a smile your way. You returned it, thinking that you would be fine if his face was the only one you could ever see again. “Thanks for inviting me over.” He said, admiring every feature. He knew that you were beautiful from every time he’d seen you before that night, but he realized that he’d been missing out on the best part. Having you laying with him, sleepiness laced in your eyes, made him realize that there was never a time where you were more beautiful. The innocent intimacy was overwhelming in the best possible way, leaving him to believe he could die happy as long as he got to hold you.

“It’s crazy, you know.” You sighed, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him.

“Hmm?” He replied, fingers dancing in the ends of your hair.

“I spent so long with this stupid little crush. I think because of it, I kind of put you on a pedestal. I forgot you were a person, too. I never believed that I could ever be with you like this. It always felt impossible.”

“I did the same thing.” He admitted, feeling better about it knowing you felt that way, too. “It’s weird. Dating in college is so much different than high school.” He chuckled. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“It feels more… adult. In high school, I had to ask my parents permission to go on a date. Now, I can just invite you over whenever I want.” You thought aloud. “But I don’t feel any different. I still feel the same as I did a year ago.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s strange, knowing that we’re supposed to be adults, now. Especially when I still feel like a kid.”

“I think it’s a good buffer period,” you shrugged. “Pretend to be adults, get the experience, but still be able to make mistakes and learn from them. We get to practice living alone and being responsible, but still get to do stupid shit.” He laughed at your comment, but understood your point.

“I like you, Picasso.” He said, his hand landing on the back of your neck. You smiled at the words.

“I like you, too.” You admitted, eyes trailing over his face in admiration.

“I think it would be cool if we could do stupid shit and learn from our mistakes… together.” He mumbled, gaze focused only on you.

“What are you saying, Billy Joel?” You smirked as he rolled his eyes at the nickname.

“I’m saying,” he paused, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment. “I would like to do this…. more often.” He articulated his words carefully, a bit nervous to say them.

“I think that would be quite alright.” You deducted. He visibly relaxed at your confirmation. “I… uh, I’m not good at this stuff.” You admitted.

“That’s okay.” He said, tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of your skull. He gently massaged his fingers over your scalp, causing a slight hum of pleasure from you. “That’s part of the making mistakes and learning from them, right?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, entranced in the feeling of him touching you. “I’ve never really had a boyfriend, or anything like that. Been on a few dates, but they ended pretty terribly.” You admitted. He cocked his head to the side, studying you as you spoke. “Like I said before, all of the boys from my hometown are all the same. I learned my lesson, and I realized nothing meaningful would ever come from it, so I just… didn’t.”

“You can talk about it, if you want.” He offered.

“There’s really not much to talk about.” You told him, remembering back to your high school years. “I don’t know if it was just the type of people that lived in the town, or if it was a teenage boy thing, but they just cared about getting laid and nothing more. It was unbearable, and I fell for it a few times, but nobody ever cared about me past the surface. I’ve never met a boy who wanted to know me like you do, or would even admit that they liked me out loud, for that matter. Nobody has ever asked me questions about myself, or my art. It was nice being seen as a person rather than a body.” You muttered the last part, hating saying it aloud.

“They have no idea what they missed out on, then.” He said, bringing you closer and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve only known you, well, really known you, for a day. I already know that I’d be more than lucky to have a chance with you.” Your cheeks turned red, luckily covered by the darkness of the room this time. “They didn’t deserve you. Nobody should make you feel like you can only be loved in privacy. You’re worth more than that.” Your eyes fluttered up to meet his as your brain wondered if the interaction was real, or a grandly fabricated dream. You leaned forward, unable to satiate the need to kiss him again.

He accepted the gesture enthusiastically, using his hands to pull you impossibly closer. You brought your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. After a moment, you couldn’t help but want more. You shifted, trying your best not to break the kiss, placing both of your legs on either side of him. He broke away for a second, just long enough to prop himself up against the wall so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He wasted no time, capturing you in another kiss. His hands found your hips, fingers holding you firmly but delicately all at once. You snaked your hand to the back of his neck, holding him like you were scared he would get away from you. When you pulled back, you were both breathless with stars dancing in your eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He said quickly, mind still occupied with the thought of kissing you. “I’m okay if we just lay here and talk.”

“I want to if you do.” You assured him, finally feeling the months of tension reach the breaking point.

“Are you sure?” He asked, searching your face for an honest answer.

“Positive.” You promised, making sure he saw you were being genuine. “I just… I’ve never…yeah.” You trailed off, suddenly a bit embarrassed. He watched you, trying to piece together what you were saying. “I’ve never had sex.” You blurted out, realizing he wasn’t fully understanding you. “I mean, I’ve done some stuff, but never…” you breathed, your face burning for a whole new reason.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He reached his hand to your face, keeping your head straight so you would look at him. You were a virgin in all technical terms, only having awkward sexual experiences and moments with failed flings in high school. It wasn’t a virtue thing, more of a feeling of never finding the right person. With him, you felt comfortable, and were certain that it would be enjoyable. You didn’t have to have experience to assume that. You could tell just by looking at him, by how he spoke to you. He cared about your comfortability, and that was a major green flag. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His tone was firm.

“No, I want to.” You said quickly, making sure he knew. “I just… I want you to have a good time, and I’m just nervous, I think. I don’t want to… disappoint.” He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the blasphemous idea.

“Yeah, that’s not even a possibility.” He shut the fear down almost as soon as it sprouted. “I’m gonna have a good time because I’m with you.” He promised. “I don’t expect anything, or anything like that. I’m more concerned with you having a good time.” He said, bringing your face down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “We’ll take it slow, okay? Make sure you enjoy yourself.” He mumbled, his mouth only millimetres away from your own. “That sound okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, giving a small nod. You could feel his smile from as he kissed you again.

“You can tell me to stop, or slow down, or whatever you need at any point, okay?” He explained when he pulled back. You nodded. “You can tell me what you like, too. Don’t be shy.” You nodded again. “I need to hear the words, baby.”

“Okay.” You verbally confirmed. He tapped your thigh, silently letting you know he wanted you to get up. You did so, allowing him to move over to the side.

“Lay down for me,” he said, his tone had authority but it was incredibly soft, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You laid back, eyes locked on his face. You were still anxious, but he was easing it more by the second. He turned onto his side to face you, guiding your face to his once more and connecting your mouths. You kissed him back with more neediness than before, excited by the idea of his hands on you. He slipped his fingers under the hem of your shirt, letting them dance over your skin so you could grow accustom to the feeling.

As he became familiar with the feeling of your body, he took his chance to deepen the kiss. You couldn’t help but let a few small moans of delight out, only fuelling him further. He went slow, working you up to speed. He didn’t want to rush you, or push you too far. He let you take the lead with progressing any further, waiting until you made a move to take an article of clothing away. When you tugged at the hem of his shirt, he moved back from you so he could pull it over his head. You let your eyes fall over his exposed torso, feeling your stomach flutter at the sight. He smiled at your expression, but didn’t say a word in fear of you feeling embarrassed. He made a move towards your waistband, watching your eyes intently as he did so. You gave him a nod of encouragement, letting him know you were okay. He hooked his fingers through the sides and slowly pulled the shorts from your body. You sat up and removed your shirt, too.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you in just your undergarments, having to do for a moment just to appreciate the view. “Gorgeous,” he hummed, lowering his head to you once more. He left a trail of gentle kisses across you collarbones, letting his hands trail over your exposed thighs. The minuscule touches were driving you crazy; you had no idea it could feel so good to be admired by someone. His lips moved downward, skipping over your chest and landing on your sternum. He started to get sloppier the further he progressed downwards. By the time he reached your navel, you were practically a mess. He looked up at you, eyelids heavy, taking in every detail of you. The way your chest rose and fell while you breathed, the way your lips stayed slightly parted, the way your hand felt tangled in his hair. It was driving him crazy.

He moved up again, motioning for you to lift your back from the bed. You did as he wanted, allowing him to snake his arms around you and unclasp your bra. He pulled it from your body, discarding it carelessly on the floor. He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth when he finally saw the full view. He was nestled between your legs, one hand planted beside you on the mattress, holding him up upright. His other hand returned to you, resting on your rib cage as light as a feather. He looked to you for permission before doing anything else. “I’m okay, I promise. I’ll tell you if I’m not.” You appreciated his consideration, but you were beginning to feel a bit desperate for more. He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand to your breast and brushed his thumb lightly over your hardened nipple.

The feeling was new, but very welcomed. The small touch sent a jolt of emotion through you. You watched him intently, anticipating his next movement. He brought his mouth to your nipple and pulled it into his mouth. You let out a shaky exhale at the sensation. He flicked his tongue over it a few times, really becoming familiar with you. When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at the loss of contact. He smiled at your sigh of discontent. “Feel good?” He hummed.

“Yeah,” you breathed. He sat upright on his knees, bringing both of his hands to your hips and hooking his fingers through your underwear. You bit the inside of your lip, enthusiastic but still a bit nervous. You lifted your hips from the bed, allowing him to pull them off with ease. He tossed them to the floor, not caring where they landed. He was only concerned with you, now fully naked and laying beneath him. He caught sight of your face, noticing that your eyes were looking away from him.

“Hey,” he whispered. You finally found the courage to look up at him. “You okay, beautiful?” You were glad he disregarded your earlier statement, finding it much easier to communicate with him if he initiated it.

“Yeah, just nervous. It’s nothing you’re doing.” You promised.

“You want to stop?” You shook your head, unable to think of a worse idea. He didn’t immediately jump back to action at the expression, but spoke again after a few moments. “We’ll go slow, okay? This is for you. I wanna give you a good time.” You felt a smile growing on your lips at his words.

“Okay,” you affirmed. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You felt like you could live in that moment forever.

“Don’t have to be shy, or nervous. Promise I’m gonna take care of you.” He said as he pulled away. “Just tell me to stop, or slow down if you need to. You’re in charge.” You managed another nod as he sunk back between your legs. He laid on his stomach, head inches from your heat. You felt the anxiety lingering, but it was rapidly overtaken by excitement. He placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs, one arm snaked under one of your legs and gently caressing the outside of your thigh. He brought his free hand to your cunt, fingers ghosting over the area. He looked up to you as if to ask permission. You gave him another nod, assuring him it was okay.

He slowly advanced, wanting to give you ample time to change your mind if you needed to. When you stayed quiet, eyes watching him with anticipation, he took it as a good sign. He ran his fingers through your folds, letting you get used to the feeling before doing anything else. You bit into the inside of your lip, trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar sensation. It was definitely different when someone else was touching you, you noted. He gathered some of your arousal on his fingers. He spread the wetness to your clit, bringing his thumb to the sensitive area and slowly rubbing light circles into it. Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling taking you by surprise. His eyes flickered to your face, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the sound. You looked down at him, meeting his gaze and feeling a different type of pleasure at the sight.

“How’s that?” His voice was quiet, barely noticeable if not for your intent focus on his every action. “Does that feel okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, less enthralled in the movement of his hands than you were at the look on his face. He had a small smile playing on his lips, but the admiration for you he held in his eyes was worth more than words. He didn’t speak again, but kept his focus on the pattern of his thumb. He applied a bit more pressure, watching your face for a reaction. You let in a sharp intake of breath, feeling the sensation change from unfamiliar to pleasurable. His jaw clenched slightly, the sound running straight through him and settling in his bones. It was small, barely there, but it was blissful to his ears.

He worked at you for a few moments, gentle and loving with every move. It felt good, the nervousness almost completely gone, but there was enough there for you to hold yourself back. Your noises were limited, mostly from fear of embarrassment. You were so caught up in the worry of looking dumb that you were almost overlooking the scene before you. It didn’t deter him, though. If anything, it only drove him further. He was aching too hear the beautiful sounds begging to be let out, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t get them out of you. You watched him closely, not wanting to miss a moment of his presence. He leaned forward, letting a line of spit fall from his lips onto his fingers. You swallowed hard, the small action sending a rush of pleasure through you.

He ran his fingers through your cunt again, making sure the lubrication didn’t go to waste. His middle finger slowed and eventually stopped just before your entrance. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” He asked, but his tone was more of a demand. You nodded, too caught up in the idea of his fingers almost inside of you to worry about anything else. After a second, he slowly sunk his finger into you, studying you for any sign of discomfort. When you went without protest, he fully pushed his finger in, letting his thumb fall back on your clit. He continued his circles, now adding the stimulation of pumping his finger into you. You let a breathy moan out, unable to hold it back anymore. “That’s it baby,” he practically groaned, ecstatic to hear the noise. “You’re doing s’good.” The praise, although unexpected, was very well received. Knowing that he was enjoying himself solely by pleasuring you was a fantastic feeling. Knowing that he was only concerned with you feeling good was enough to satiate the anxiety.

He continued his pace for a while, eventually adding another finger when you felt you were ready. You were a mess, caught up in the pleasure but worried, too, because you hadn’t felt the creep of an impending orgasm. His hand was steady, never wavering, and his eyes were locked on you. Every so often, he pressed his lips into the skin on your thighs or your hipbones, just as a small act of affection. “Sam, I-I don’t know if I’m gonna cum.” You admitted, voice shaky and a bit defeated.

“You will,” he promised, unfazed by the statement. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I just…” you let out a sigh, frustrated with yourself. “It’s not you, it’s me.” He pulled back, halting his movements.

“I can stop if that’s what you want, baby.” His words were coated with sincerity. “Or are you just worried you can’t cum?” He inquired.

“I don’t want you to stop, I’m having a good time. I just don’t know if I can.” You explained, feeling embarrassment settle in your chest.

“I’ve got all night.” He said, shrugging off the worry. “Can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.” He gave you a smile.

“I want you to have a good time, too, though.”

“Oh, I am.” His tone changed from gentle to firm. “Don’t worry about that.” You watched him with uncertainty, but the look in his eye was nothing but affirmative of his statement. “Don’t worry about anything. Just lay there and focus on how it feels, okay?” You nodded. “No worries about if you’re gonna cum or not, no worrying about me having a good time, just relax and enjoy the feeling. If you don’t cum, we’ll try again next time.” Your heard sped at the realization that he was planning on this being more than a one-time thing. It was comforting, knowing that he was learning about you so intimately, but wasn’t planning on running. He didn’t want to get your clothes off and never speak to you again like the majority of boys you’d ever known.

“Y-yeah, okay.” You replied. He cocked his head to the side, wondering why the hesitation was so present. “You, uh… next time?” He couldn’t help but grin at your question.

“I mean, yeah, if you want that, of course.”

“Yeah, I do.” You rushed out, hoping you hadn’t made him feel otherwise.

“Then it’s settled.” He hummed. “Not just the sex part, though. The dinner and the hanging out was great, and I’d very much like to do that, too.” You let out a small giggle at his words, finding the explanation cute.

“Me, too.” You assured him.

“Breakfast tomorrow?” He asked, a smirk on the corner of his lips. He started to move his fingers again, taking you by surprise. You let out a gasp at the suddenness, immediately feeling the pleasure return.

“S-sure,” you breathed, giving him a nod. He decided to stop messing with you, wanting to ensure you were as comfortable as you could be. He worked himself back up to his earlier pace, making it nearly impossible for you to think of anything else. He let another trail of spit fall onto his fingers, making sure it wasn’t too dry for you.

After a few moments, you did start to feel a little less insecure. His eyes were watching you, studying every minute detail. He noticed the rise and fall of your chest speed as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you, the way you occasionally pulled your bottom lip between your teeth in attempt to silence yourself. He watched how your eyebrows furrowed slightly when he brushed over your clit just right, and how your eyes stayed almost permanently shut. He thought you were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Eventually, a blissful moan slipped from your mouth as his fingers hit the perfect spot. His eyes rolled back slightly, soaking up the sound. “That’s it, baby.” He encouraged you, fingers never stopping.

The words of motivation helped ease your tension. Your stiffness dissipated, your shoulders relaxing back on the pillows a bit. Your neck let your head fall back, leaving you completely at ease for the time being. A few more short-lived moans fell from your lips, all hitting him with a stronger force each time. “Doing so good, princess.” He said, noticing the effect his words had on you last time. “Cum for me, baby. You can do it.” He whispered. The demand went straight to your core, and you started to feel a sensation grow in the pit of your stomach. It was a feeling you’d only ever given yourself; it was way more intense when produced by another person.

“Fuck, Sam.” You whimpered, a gentle warning that you were getting closer. His heart drummed against his chest, clearly excited at the obscene proclamation. He took a risk, removing his thumb from your clit and lowering his head until his lips were touching you. You didn’t realize what he was doing until his tongue darted over the sensitive nerves, causing an involuntarily buck of your hips. He used his hand that was hooked under your leg to hold you down on the mattress.

Your fear of not being able to cum was quickly diminished with the new, even more unfamiliar feeling. It was heavenly. You let a low groan out, feeling the knot in your belly tighten. You slipped your hand down and tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair. He pulled his mouth off you only for a second, just to get one more praise in. “Taste so good, princess.” He said, slipping his thumb back in place of his mouth. You could only whimper in response, already missing the feeling of his tongue. “That’s it, baby. Look at you,” he whispered the last part more to himself than anything else. He only let his eyes hover over your expression for a moment longer, returning his tongue to you.

It didn’t take long to get to where he wanted you to be. Within a few minutes, you were gripping at his hair, panting and moaning, your orgasm begging you to let go. His tongue was moving at a steady pace, and his fingers curled with every re-entry, hitting a spot inside you that nothing ever had before. You let your head fall back, feeling the pressure reach its peak. A wave of pleasure overtook you, setting every nerve in your body on fire. You managed his name through the slur of moans, clenching around his fingers as you came. He only tapered his speed when the intensity began to die down. He removed his mouth first, then slowly pulled his fingers from you. His eyes flickered towards your face, lust clouding his eyes as he did so.

He slowly moved upwards, placing a few kisses over your collarbones and up onto your neck. You finally found the strength to open your eyes and look to him. He caught your gaze and gave you a dopey smile, eyelids heavy and your arousal glistening on his lips. “That’s my beautiful girl,” he hummed, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before leaning in for a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered as he parted from you. He placed another kiss on your lips, sweet and full of emotion. The anxiety that had been plaguing you on and off was now gone, replaced solely by a desire for him that you’d never felt for another person before. “Did that feel good?”

“So good, Sammy.” You said, your lips still ghosting over his. You could feel his erection straining against his sweatpants, pressing into your leg.

“My name sounds so good when you say it like that.” He sighed, one hand roaming your exposed torso. His touch was light, tickling the sensitive skin over your rib cage as he did so.

“Thank you,” you whispered, resting your cheek against his, basking in the affection.

“Don’t have to thank me, princess.” He replied. “If anything, I should be thanking you.” You let out a small laugh at his words, finding his gratefulness charming. You reached up and cupped his cheek in your hand, lifting your head to pull him into another kiss. He was hesitant to let you go when you pulled away.

“Do you wanna…?” You trailed off, feeling a bit too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

“Do you?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed, never more sure of yourself in your whole life. He gave you a smile, making a move to stand. He undid the drawstring on his pants, then pulled them down, ridding himself of them and leaving himself clad in only his boxers. You couldn’t help but stare at him, eyes wandering but eventually settling on the bulge barely contained by the fabric. He noticed your stare, a smirk making its way back onto his lips.

“Condoms?” He asked, catching your attention. Your eyes widened, realizing that you didn’t have any.

“Oh, I uh- I didn’t really expect… I don’t..”

“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I have some in my room. I can go get them.” You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, realizing that he’d been keeping them for a reason. You pushed the thought away, not wanting to focus on the idea of him being with someone else. He was here with you, and that’s what mattered.

“I, uh, I am on birth control, if you’re clean.” You squeaked, slightly embarrassed at the statement.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He said, his tone firm.

“Yeah, I am.” You assured him. “Like I said, as long as you’re clean.” You repeated the earlier comment, just wanting to be sure.

“I am,” he promised. “It’s been a long time since… yeah.” He let out a small laugh. You couldn’t help but feel better knowing he hadn’t been sleeping around, either.

“Then yeah, I’m okay with it.” He gave a nod, making a move to take off his boxers. You watched in admiration, excited to finally see him the same as he was seeing you. He kicked the fabric with the rest of the growing pile of clothes. He stepped back towards the bed, noticing your eyes never leaving him. “You’re… very pretty.” You whispered, unable to find any better words to describe him.

“I think you’re very pretty, too.” He smiled, nestling back between your legs as he grabbed a pillow from beside you. “Lift your hips up, princess.” You did as he said and he slipped the cushion underneath you. “Should make it a bit more comfortable.”

He guided your legs up slightly, not enough to bend you in an awkward position, but enough to make it easier for both of you. “Will it hurt?” You finally blurted out, the question begging to be spoken all night.

“May be a bit uncomfortable at first, but I’m gonna try my best to make sure it doesn’t.” He said, catching your gaze. “We can take it as slow as you want. If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

“Okay.” You replied, voice quiet. You were nervous, but very aware that you were in good hands. It was his only intention to make sure you enjoyed yourself. You watched as he spit on his hand, rubbing himself for a moment.

“You okay?” He asked, wanting to be sure.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t be scared to talk to me, baby.” He reminded. You nodded, eyes only focused on his hand that was he was stroking himself with. He moved a bit closer, letting the tip of his dick rest against your entrance. He let you get used to the feeling before going any further. “You tell me when you’re ready.”

“I am.” You weren’t lying; the anxiety and nervousness was fully expected, but you were more than ready to have sex with him. You were sure of that before you’d even spoken with him, and it was only solidified further when you saw how accommodating he was being with you. He waited for any hesitation, but when none was given, he slowly pushed his hips forward.

You closed your eyes, trying your best to stay relaxed. He only pushed in a few inches, wanting you to adjust before continuing. “That okay?” He asked. You nodded, reaching out for his hand. He took his own from your leg and accepted the offer, intertwining his fingers with yours. He thrusted forward a bit more, studying your expression for a hint of discomfort. When he bottomed out, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“Not as bad as I thought it would be.” You noted. He laughed quietly, happy you thought so.

“You’re doing so good.” He whispered. “You feel so good.” His words sent a jolt of arousal through you, enjoying the praise more than you imagined you would. He slowly built up a pace, moving his hips with caution. Once you’d fully realized the sensation was less than uncomfortable, you relaxed against him. After a few more moments, you began to enjoy the feeling.

“You can go faster,” you sighed, a ghost of a moan in your words. He was hesitant to do so, but he gradually sped his thrusts, admiring your expression. When he clued in to the fact you were enjoying yourself, he couldn’t help but let a groan escape his lips. Your eyes snapped to his face, thinking that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. His pleasure ridden expression was enough to induce an orgasm on its own, you deducted.

He reached his hand between your legs, letting his thumb find your clit again. He continued his pace, now applying light pressure onto the sensitive bundle of nerves as he circled his thumb. The combined sensations caused a moan from you. Your fingers tightened against his hand, a silent expression of pleasure. “Fuck, Sam.” You sighed, letting your head fall back onto the pillows.

“Look so pretty like this, baby.” He mumbled, trying to keep the speed of his hips and his hand the same. The pet names were unexpected, but you loved hearing them come from his mouth, especially when they sounded like that. “Wish I could have you like this forever.” He sighed, losing himself to the feeling a bit. It didn’t take long for another knot to form in your belly. With the consistency of his movements, it was much easier to get there than it was the first time. Sam noticed the slight change in your demeanour, the increase in the noises you were making. He focused on your face, wanting to watch you this time, feeling a bit cheated out of the moment the first time. “You think you can cum again, princess?” He asked, eyes burning into you.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, looking up at him. “Feels so good, Sammy.”

“Come on, baby.” He sounded as if he were begging you. “Doing so good for me.” With his encouragement, you felt your orgasm creep up again. You tried your best to keep your eyes on him, wanting to appreciate him as much as possible. He sped his thumb slightly, causing your breath to catch in your throat. His gaze never wavered, an unspoken plea for you to let go. It only took a moment before you came the second time. Your head fell back again, eyes screwed shut and mouth permanently agape. His jaw was clenched, holding himself back from his own release at the sound of you crying his name. “That’s it,” he moaned, wishing he could engrave the picture in his mind forever. As much as he wanted to cum, too, he was hoping to get one more out of you before the night came to an end.

The pressure from his thumb lightened, but his thrusts sped. You didn’t have time to recover, unlike the first time. The sensitivity was overtaken by the pleasure of him inside you, making it the only thing you could focus on. You looked back at him, realizing your mistake as soon as you did. He was still staring at you, eyes now a bit feral. The muscles in his jaw were taut, and he was quite unfamiliar to you, now. Although different, not in a bad way. It was intense, but far from menacing. You were captivated in the details of his stare, finding yourself unable to look away. He was breathtaking, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have him in such a way. You couldn’t believe that you had the power to drive him to such a feeling.

“You can give me one more, baby, I know you can.” His motivation was clouded with a bit of dominance, giving you the impression that he wouldn’t be pleased with himself if he couldn’t give you another orgasm.

“I don’t know, Sammy.” You groaned, unsure of yourself but still fully immersed in the feeling of him inside you.

“You can, princess. You can do it.” His chest was heaving with every breath, partially due to his movement, but more to do with desire. There was a glisten of sweat on his forehead, illuminated by the dim light flooding through the window. You didn’t think you’d be able to cum for the first time, let alone a second, or a third. The only anxiety you had left in your body was one fearing you’d leave him disappointed. Rationally, you knew he’d be content with whatever happened, but the louder part of your brain craved to give him exactly what he wanted. It wasn’t out of fear, but solely because you wanted to. From the minute he’d given you that first stupid smile all those months ago, you knew you wanted to be exactly where you were at that moment, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give it your all.

His patience and gentleness with you the whole night was endearing, but for you, the novelty of it being your first time had worn off, and the months of sexual tension was reaching its peak. You were both completely starved for each other in the best way possible, neither of you wanting to disappoint. Sam kept his pace steady, his thumb pressing into your clit again. To both of you, the idea of another orgasm not being reached was out of the question. “I can, but you have to cum with me.” You begged.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he grunted, letting out a long exhale. He knew that wouldn’t be an issue, he’d been holding himself back from the minute you’d started fucking. He rationed with himself as another string of moans left your lips, forcing himself to believe that waiting would be far more satisfactory than finishing before you. “Cum for me, angel.” The new term of endearment was unlike the others; this one hit you violently, such a graceful term for such a filthy display. You let out a cry of pleasure, your third climax hitting you without warning. It washed over you with necessity, as if you needed it to survive. He finally let go of your hand, fingers finding your hips to hold you on him as he came, too.

The room echoed with sounds of pleasure and obscene words, the essence of the moment settling into the walls and solidifying its place. The memory would never leave, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. He let out a sigh, finally losing his composure and resting gently atop of you. He placed tender kisses along your collarbones, small gestures of affection and appreciation to let you know he still meant everything he said to you. After you both came back to reality, he slowly withdrew from you. He tried to keep the mess minimal as he did so, wanting to keep the cleanup simple so he had more time to hold you before the night was through. “You should go pee, don’t want you to get a UTI.” He mumbled. You managed a nod, sleep calling to you like never before. Your mind and body were beyond exhausted, unable to keep up with the whirlwind of events.

He helped you up and to the bathroom, leaving you to your business. You cleaned yourself up and removed what was left of your makeup before returning to him. He gave you a dopey smile and a kiss on the head before going to do the same. You took a seat on the bed, mind still buzzing with excitement at the thought of what happened. When he came back out, he pulled his boxers back on and picked up his t-shirt from the ground. He handed it to you, almost nervous of rejection. You took the piece of clothing and slipped it over your head, more than happy to be wearing his clothes. “Did… did you maybe want to stay with me tonight?” You asked, nervous he’d say no. He took a seat beside you, pulling you into his arms and laying you both down on the mattress.

“Was hoping you’d ask.” He mumbled, pulling your back to his chest. He nuzzled his head into your neck, not caring about the tickle of your hair on his face.

“Thank you,” you finally said after a few long moments of silence.

“What are you thanking me for?”

“I don’t know,” you laughed. “That was… fantastic. You were fantastic.”

“I’m just happy you had a good time. That’s all I wanted.” He hummed, hand snaking under your shirt to rest on your stomach.

“I really did. I.. uh, wanted to do that for a while.” You said, rolling your eyes at your own awkwardness.

“Oh, yeah, me too.” He said, as if it were obvious. “All year I felt like I was in middle school again, crushing on the prettiest girl who didn’t know I existed.”

“I knew you existed.” You whispered, calmed at the knowledge you’d both been feeling the same way. “I thought the same about you.”

“Seems like we were both a bit dumb, then, Picasso.” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Guess so, piano man.” You both fell into a silence again, but like all the other ones, it was nothing short of comfortable. You felt yourself melt into his touch, sleep begging you to close your eyes.

“You’re okay, though? You’re not sore, or anything? You’d tell me if you were, right?”

“Yeah, I am, Sammy. Promise.” You reassured him. He’d done an excellent job at taking care of you and ensuring you were comfortable. It was the best possible scenario you could have imagined for your first time.

“That’s good, I just want to make sure.” He whispered. You settled into the mattress, prepared to go to bed. “So, if we’re talking experience wise, like a three star review?” He broke the quiet once more, causing both of you to fall into a fit of laughter.

“Mmm, I was thinking more of a five star, actually.” You pretended to ponder.

“Don’t stroke my ego, Picasso.” He dismissed the compliment.

“Maybe we’ll have to try it again sometime, then I can give a proper review.” You moved your hand under your shirt, too, resting it on top of his. He laced your fingers together, more than accepting of the contact.

“I think that would be quite alright.” He placed a kiss to your neck, just below your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. “So it was good enough to make you want to do it again,” he noted. “I’ll have to put that one on my resume.” You laughed, shaking your head at his antics.

“Goodnight, piano man.” You said, finality in your voice. He propped himself up, trying his best to lean over you for another kiss. You turned your head back to meet his lips, much more confident in the action, now.

“Goodnight, Picasso.” He settled back in behind you, closing his eyes, too. “I can’t wait to take you to breakfast in the morning.” No more words were exchanged, but you both fell into a slumber with a permanent smile stuck on your lips.

[reverieaa]

The self, fufilled.

It might have taken me a while, but as I promised in my last poll, I will deliver what you all were most interested in hearing, my explanation of the self fufilled. Consider this a pt.2 of "a change of clothes".

Yes, I say the self fufilled. I thought this play of words is not only interesting to do but would bring light to a new perspective that may help you come to your own understanding.

Many don't sit to really understand what " no other cause to your thoughts other than you" really means to them, we know, but we don't understand.

How do I stop my doubtful thoughts? How do I manifest quickly? how do I feel my wish fufilled? How do I change my state? How do I feel free? How do I stop punishing myself?

Well for the last one, you can start by putting an end to all previous questions, searching with the intention of finding an outside answer.

The opposite of love is hate, as the opposite of to hurt is to heal.

And the opposite of attention is indifference. As Edward art himself said that indifference is truly the answer to all your doubts.

I don't want you to go through your day and force yourself to imagine, affirm, and re-read every post you've ever read again and again until it finally clicks, I don't want you to fight every thought and scold your mind for "going out of place" either.

All that I want you to do is all that is required for you to do, change the inner. We truly are fortunate when I tell you this good news because change is all we do, all we've ever done.

I'll tell you honestly, not to give you hope and neither to shatter it or delude you when I tell you that majority of your problems that sound so complicated as the universe itself, could be solved just through self identification and a rearrangement of the mind.

I don't say this to give comforting lies, false hope, and support because I don't want people with hopes and dreams in tough situations to feel bad and be a moral person, but because the truth is far more comforting than any of it.

I won't tell you to "keep going" when you feel like nothing is working and breaking down. If you feel the need to change something, then change should happen, and it shall as your word is logic to your world.

I want you to understand that you're not meant to fufill the thing itself, but yourself instead. It's not about your desired face, it's about you, it's not about your ideal relationship and sp, it's about you, it's not about imagining the perfect life, it's about you.

It's not about using yourself to fulfill the scenario/desire. It's about it fulfilling and changing YOU.

Right now, you have a bed, you are not imagining that you do, you're not checking to see if you have a bed, you probably didn't even look to see if you have one, it is a CLAIM within yourself. With the same conviction, you use it for your desires. Take this example with things you have in your life.

I don't think people realize that the whole reason why trying changing the outer reality does not work because there is no outer reality to begin with, I mean that literally.

It is crucial to understand when you imagine that you are not creating the desire or a new reality, but you can only conceptualize that version of you to begin with because it already exists.

Let the ego mind go, let the need for outer change go, both its worries and time-frame of your life so far and just sit there with what I'm trying to say when I tell you to feel the wish fulfilled. It is a CLAIM, not a process, a change of identification.

Once you identify yourself with who you actually are, the awareness/ pure consciousness and believe that you is all there is , you won't want to "manifest a df" just to decorate the outer man, but you'll want to manifest it bc it genuinely makes u happy for yourself, same for every manifestation.

It all comes down to a satisfying claim, a claim of your observation that you see as TRUTH and are currently seeing in your mind.

For those who are wondering what knowingness I'm talking abt, it's the same knowingness when someone asks your name, you know you are (name), you know you're (nr) years old.

And so the same way you know your name, you know you have your desired body, the same way you know how old you are, you know you have your dream car.

We identify as body and outer when the outer world itself is WITHIN us, you are the answer to everything as everything has it's root to you, and at the same, everything cam only live through ypir awareness, nothing greater and nothing to "get".

If i view myself as pure consciousness, then I do not care for the 5 senses to show me anything because I don't view myself as just body, and this doesn't mean you can't deal with things in the 3D, because working in the 3D and identifying with it are different things. Therefore, don't feel the need to commit all your 5 senses to your imaginal act.

This isn't a for you to tell yourself: " ok, I have to know I am pure consciousness/ the creator and work with it from there" this post is telling you that you ALREADY are it, skip emotions here, we have established that you are it right now and youvare becoming aware that you are in imagination.

All we do in life is make claims within ourselves about things we are aware of having in the mind. Say you have a red car, and you think about it in your head, you know it's yours, you don't need to check your own drivers license, you know you have a certain hair color, it is a aware claim, you aren't trying to get it, there is no rush to do so, you are at ease knowing it IS so and are just observing your life through that state on consciousness.

And since you are consciousness, and you can get/be anything you want just by being aware that you are it, what is it that you can't do or be in this world? You can't be satisfied going after the "object" itself bc the only way we can enjoy things in this world is through the awareness that we have it, it has no life of its own outaide your own consciousness.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Anime Convention (feat. someone real). Part I

Self-Aware! Flags x GN! Reader

Description: In small towns rumours spread like a wildlife. Especially in an age of Internet .

BSD Cast's presence in your life changed, how other people saw you. Not for the best.

Fears and anxiety eats you up. You are terrified of loosing your new friends, but also feel, that one day, you will be alone again.

After you loose your job, in combine attempt of cheering you up, learning more about real world and came in terms with having fans, Fitzgerald bought all of you a tickets to Anime Expo.

BSD Cast are existed and confused. They want to know, what are you afraid of.

You're nervous and excited. You afraid, that any moment you will make a fool of yourself and they will leave.

You simply hope, that everything will be fine.

Part I Description:

You are trying to get through work day, ignoring rude comments, coming from your co-workers.

Flags don't understand, what is happening to you, and why you allow others to harass you. Either way, they won't allow anyone to upset you.

Warnings: OOC. English is my second language. Forced loneliness in a crowd. (Reader want to have friends, but have troubles with making them). Insecurities (Reader are afraid of being laughed at). Low self-esteem (Reader are sure, that people will think, that they are boring and stupid).

Warnings for Part I: Harassment on a workplace. Fights. Being fired from job. Everyone think, that Reader pay BSD Cast for their help with their body.

| Interlude I| >

___________

Albatross's motorcycle dissapeared around the corner when you opened a café's door.

A familiar jingle of the bells greeted you, when you opened the Sunset Café's door.

Time for work.

You greeted your co-workers. As usual, they have ignored you. And send nasty and disgusted glares towards you, when you passed them.

You went straight to "Employee Only" room. As usual, you had to threw away nasty notes your co-workers put in your locker.

You, now in your uniform, stand behind the counter. As usual, you ignored the whispering, that was coming from your co-workers.

Job sweet job...

_______

You knew, that your new roommates would turn, how people saw you.

You always were a quiet student and co-worker.

Like many other students, you were renting a small apartment, were going to the university and had a part-time job. As many other students, you were quiet one. You study and do your job, and spent your free time in your apartment, enjoying your hobbies.

Your parents always told you, how fun university life was for them. About parties, bar hopping and many other social gatherings.

You tried to attend few parties. You did not like them. They were loud, and, after few drinks, people became too against personal space. You did not have any fun. So, not to torture yourself and not to sour the mood, you stopped attending parties.

You still wanted to make friends. You are not social butterfly, but you are not are dead set on being a loner.

You tried to make friends with other students. At first, it worked. You discussed latest news and everyday problems. You dive in your friends’ hobbies, so you can discuss them. However, with time, you have noticed, that they did not try to know you a little more. Each time you wanted to say even a word about last movie you watched or a book your read, you were being shut down, and “friends” already started a new discussion. And, when you tried to say your opinion on something they were discussing, they ignored you.

They did not noticed, that you stopped hanging out with them.

You tried again.

They were better. They didn't ignore you. They let you talk about your hobbies and listen to your opinion.

And then you learned, that they were laughing at you behind your back.

You stopped trying. You didn't want to be ignored again. You didn't want to be laughed at.

Still, you didn't want to be alone...

But, what next group will laugh at you again?

You choose to listen to your anxiety.

And, once again, as back at school, you became

IGNORED

“Quiet-Nerd-What–was-their-name?”

No one expected you to do anything drastic.

Until, one day, BSD Cast appeared in your living room.

And people remembered, that you existed.

-------------------------

It first, it wasn't too bad.

After Albatross got all documents he needs and finally bought a new motorcycle, he volunteered to constantly give you a ride to the university. It takes you time, before you agreed to his proposal. You were fine going by feet, or taking a bus. But, the new house was further from the university, than your previous apartment, so, to safe time, you agreed to Albatross's proposal.

Now you have more time to sleep and still can get to the university earlier, to prepare for lectures.

You weren't worried about questions, that fellow students would ask. For them, you were practically invisible. They won't pay attention to you, right?

Perhaps, it would be the case. But, you failed to get one thing in consideration.

Sunset Café

Relatively popular place among students. Not only because of delicious pastries, hot beverages and low prices. Mostly, because of owners' willingness to employ students and giving them a normal paycheck. Not enough to buy everything you need, but enough to pay rent and buy a present for yourself twice a year. Besides, employees were allowed to drink beverages and take few pastries. So, free dinner/lunch. Saved money!

So, of course, you were one of the many employees in Sunset Café. And, sometimes, you shared shift with your "classmates". If you were lucky, you could even say a few words to them, and they would react to them.

You didn't quit your job after BSD Cast appeared in your life. Mori, Fitzgerald, Poe and even Mitchell with Steinbeck tried to convince you to quit it. They assured you, that you don't need this job anymore. They have more than enough money to pay for everything you need or want. Everyone told you, that they won't hold it against you, if you quit your job and focus on your studies.

Your decision didn't change. You will work. Not only because you will feel bad for not contributing.

Because you need money for that... And you will feel terrible, taking money from BSD Cast to do it...

BSD Cast accepted it. They only asked you to tell them when your shifts are and text, when you will go home.

You were fine with sharing this with them.

A week passed. Albatross gave you a ride to university. Then, after lessons were over, you will go by foot to Sunset Café and after work take a bus to get home. Everything was fine. Even if other students noticed your "driver", they didn't ask questions. They get used to ignoring you.

And then, one day, after university, you saw Albatross on the parking lot.

_____

"Hey, [Y/N]! How university was, Racing Star?" Albatross waved his hand, smiling brightly. You tilted your head and quickly approach him.

you felt other students gazes on you... since when someone, except professors, knew your name? and since when, you have a person, who will have a nickname for you?

You lean towards him, whispering.

"Albatross? What are you doing here?" You quickly released, that you were rude. "I mean, hello. University was good."

stupid stupid he will think that you are a rude idiot

Albatross smiles at you warmly and took (yours) helmet from his motorcycle.

"Great! I am here to pick you up. Since today, I will also give you a ride to your workplace! And from workplace to home!" He held the helmet towards you.

You took it and put it on.

Albatross mirrored your actions and get on motorcycle.

"Hop on, Raising Star!"

You sat behind him, on your own proper seat, with your feet on your own foot pegs.

You put your arms around Albatross torso.

The motorcycle moved.

many people looked after you two. in a few hours all your co-workers knew about Albatross and you

_______

Questions came.

"Who is this handsome man?"

"Is he single?"

"You get a boyfriend?! You?!"

"Why he is giving you a ride?!"

You shrugged their questions of.

"Just a new roommate. We met online, talked about some anime and manga for a bit (rolled eyes and whispers of 'useless nerd'). And about few other things. He wanted to move over from his city to this town and wanted us to be roommates. He volunteered to gave me rides."

(whispers of 'And how you are paying for the rides?' you ignored them)

------

A shove in the side interrupted your thought chain.

"Wake up, cheap strumpet! Or are you thinking about all this 'rides' the blonde one gave you? The one in sunglasses." John's gaze was full of disgust. It was clearly visible, that your co-worker, and student from your class, want to spit in your face really badly. Thankfully, he decided against it.

"We will have clients soon. Reminder, not clients, that you are used to. So get back to normal, respected work."

He growled and left to the kitchen.

You wanted to protest, that it was summer. University was over. Most students left, and the Café wasn't that popular among other town's residents.

no clients means more trouble for you

But you stay silent.

You didn't want to lose your job. You need it.

🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️

Albatross parked his motorcycle not far from Sunset Café. He returned to the Café on his own foot. There was a restaurant on the opposite side of the street. And, because they didn't serve any deserts and only could offer Earl Grey and espresso, it wasn't a competitor with Sunset Café.

From said restaurant you can clearly view Sunset Café, and see, what was happened inside.

Albatross choose the closest table to the window. He sat down, ordered a sandwich and start observing. His friends will join him soon. For now, he must look after you.

He clenched his teeth, when he saw, how that man shoved you. Albatross gad no idea, what he was telling you, but you looked uncomfortable. And silent. You didn't try to protect yourself.

Albatross doesn't understand. Why you were so silent and don't protect yourself? Why you don't ask them for help?

Albatross doesn't have answers yet. But, he promised, that today he will protect you.

And other Flags will help him.

🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️

The interest in you and Albatross quickly died. Well, in you the interest died. Albatross still was discussed. Handsome man, dressed in leather jacket and rugged pants, who can ride a motorcycle, tend to get people's attention.

Life became normal again, aside from people, who would beg you to give them Albatross's number.

But then, another "new" appeared in your life.

Homemade meals.

"I knew, that you can have cake with coffee, but it is not a meal, [Y/N]. It is a snack or a treat. So, hush, and take your bento." Yosano wasn't listening to your protest, putting a lunch container into your bag.

Lunches became a norm for you.

If people saw you eating your own food, they didn't question it. Perhaps, they assumed, that after getting a roommate, you start having more money, enough for not to worry about constant saving and searching for low prices. Or, maybe, some people thought, that Albatross was also cooking for you.

But one day, you forgot your lunch at home.

___________

You were working on filling coffee machine, when John called for you.

"Um... Person, who are filling coffee machine... [Y/N], right?"

You nodded.

you were used for people forgetting your name

"[Y/N]... there is some kind of freak with IV looking for you!" John sounded confused.

IV? Doc?

You walked past confused John. He still looked confused. You could bet, that it was equally, because of Doc's appearance and, because there was another non-professor, who knew your name.

he and other of your co-workers were listening on yours and Doc's meeting

Doc does look interesting. Mostly because of IV and jagged teeth. But, you can quickly get used to said looks.

Doc flashed a toothy grin at you.

it made your co-workers took a step back

Doc raised a hand, and you saw, that he was holding a wrapped up bento.

Your lunch, that you forgot.

"[Y/N], silly little Kindly Care, you forgot your lunch."

You nodded, taking it from him.

"Hello, Doc. Thank you..."

idiot. your stupidity made him walk all the way here to give you food. apologize. Maybe, he won't hate you and would simply despise

"I am so sorry for all troubles I..." You didn't get to finish. Doc chuckled and pet your shoulder. His gaze was warm. He didn't look angry. Only happy.

"Don't worry this pretty little head of yours. It wasn't trouble at all. Hey, how soon your shift will end? Maybe, I can wait for you, and then Albatross, you and I can hang out?"

you can felt burning gazes of your co-workers on your back

You wanted to say 'yes, let's hang out'. But, your shift was far from over. He could probably go home. He will go home.

you aren't worse waiting for...

"I will be free in three hours, Doc... Maybe, you should..." Doc's grin became even bigger.

"Neat. I will wait for you."

Doc sat on the table in far away corner.

And you go back to your co-workers.

_________

They literally pressed you against the wall, trying to get answers.

"Who is this creep?"

"You have another friend?"

"Another roommate?"

"How big the flat is?"

"Is he the one, who is cooking you food?"

"Are you three dating?"

It was difficult, but you escaped from the encirclement. You ignored half of the questions.

"Yes, another roommate. No, we aren't dating. I won't answer any more questions. My personal life is none of your concern."

maybe, if you say something else... this situation would be solved...

(Kasey, another co-worker, whispered 'what they saw in you? What you give them in return for their help?' you ignored her)

Albatross, Doc and you got ice cream after your shift was done.

_____

You were re-filling coffee machine, when you heard steps coming from behind.

Only your reflexes saved you from having coffee spilled all over you. Kasey's voice was dripping with venom.

"What the matter? Aren't you already dirty?"

She left, stepping on your foot in a process.

You bit your tongue.

Just keep it cool. You need this job.

You need your own money.

🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️

Doc, this time, without his IV, stepped into the restaurant. Albatross waved his hand, without looking away from the Café. Doc sat near his friend.

"Did something bad happened?" asked Doc. Albatross huffed.

"Some guy... John, I think, shoved them. And, yell at them, I guess. [Y/N] looked scared and nervous."

Doc rubbed his temples. He hated all this people, who hurt you.

He saw it. Bruises on your arms.

You assured him, that you were clumsy.

But, doctor and mafioso (especially doctor-mafioso) can see, what bruises came from being clumsy and what was left from being hit.

He didn't blame you for being quiet. In no way it is your fault. But, it was his and others responsibility to protect you.

Because, you are their dear friend.

But, for an hour or two, he still had to wait. He and Albatross need more people to help them.

🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️

People started whispering.

About you, Albatross and Doc.

Some rumors were tossed around.

Still, it wasn't too bad. Albatross, Doc and almost everyone from BSD Cast wasn't too sociable, for now. So, your co-workers and other students can't get more information from them, and you simply refused to talk.

you are too grumpy... you will never have friends... you will always be alone...

But, loneliness can't last forever.

if you are not talking about yourself, of course

BSD Cast wanted to have jobs.

Lippmann was one of the first, who got it.

New actor in a local theater. A new start. New celebrity. Videos with him became viral.

And said start preferred to spend time with a shy, timid student, worker of Sunset Café.

________

Kasey squeaked, when Lippmann, a new celebrity, walked into the Café.

"Y-you..." she looked at him in adoration. Lippmann sent a smile in her direction.

Simple, polite smile.

He read her badge.

"Yes, me. Miss Kasey, can you, please, tell me, where... [Y/N]!" He noticed you, walking with a tray, full of dirty dishes.

Lippmann smiles at you.

Genuine, warm smile. Smile, that was reserved strictly for you.

You tried your best to stay polite and not to lose balance.

"Hello, Lippmann. Good to see you..."

Lippmann immediately was near you, taking away the tray. You didn't even make a sound, when he brought the tray to the kitchen. He returned to you, smiling.

"Well, Star Performer, ready to have lunch together?"

You mentally scolded yourself. Today you had a short day, and would leave the job earlier, than usual. This morning, Lippmann suggested eating lunch together. You were sure, that he was playing a prank on you. But it would be rude to say no. You agreed.

you hopped, that he will show up

you don't deserve them. someone as bad as you should stay from normal people

You nodded. Lippmann grinned.

"Good. I will wait for you to get ready."

"Thanks. I will be ready in a minute." you went to "Employee Only" room to get your bag and change.

_______

Co-workers gathered their courage to talk to Lippmann.

"Do you know them?"

"Do you know two others, that hang out with them?"

"What are they to you?"

Lippmann's answers were empty.

"[Y/N], few other people and I are roommates. I also see [Y/N] as someone close. Please, stop bothering me. I want to pick up my friend and spend the rest of the day with them."

When you returned, Lippmann took your hand and lead you towards the exit, ignoring your co-workers.

They glared at door, that closed behind you two.

If people could do physical damage with their gazes, you would be stabbed multiple times by their gazes.

(Today, all of them took a dive on social media. Trying to find more people, who knew you. They started with Lippmann socials.)

It was the point of no return

__________

You only wanted to have lunch.

You choose an empty table and was ready to dig in into red bean chazuke (thank you, Mori), when someone slammed a hand on the table before you.

Max, baker, were glaring at you. They were older than you, and not a student anymore. But, they were a star student, back there, and still honored the university traditions.

And they were furious at you.

Because of what people thought you were doing.

"You have no idea, how you disgust me. You are a disgrace to the university." they spit. They grabbed your lunch box and threw it down. Food spilled on the ground. You cowered in fear.

Max spit on the floor.

"Clean it up. Or eat it right from the floor. Livestock aren't allowed to eat as normal humans."

You blinked away your tears.

Hold on...

Just hold on...

You need money...

To pay rent...

🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

Doc and Albatross had to hold down Lippmann (and themselves) from marching down to the Café and do something really nasty to the bastard.

Lippmann breathed in and out.

"Why... Why they are hurting [Y/N]? For what sick entertainment?" mumbles Lippmann, tapping fingers against the table. Albatross and Doc didn't answer. They don't need to.

Lippmann closed his eyes. He hated not doing anything.

But, he needs to wait for a bit more. To get more evidence.

He remembered about some of the messages he received on his socials.

About how good you are in... "under the table" job. How much will it cost. If he is disgusted by you.

He simply thought, that it was trolls or haters, who just saw your photos on his page.

But, what if this people knew you and him in real life?

Lippmann breathed in again.

You were the only good part of the Real World. Other real people were huge bastards. He must protect you.

His precious Star Performer.

🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

They found photos.

Photos with you and BSD Cast.

With all of them calling you a great friend and roommate.

There were some videos.

About you being happy to get a gift or hanging out with them.

Fellow students and co-workers don't understand.

How a quiet, timid, shy nerd could get so much attention? Especially from new big businessmen and businesswoman?

They drew the only "logical" conclusion.

You were selling your body.

Now you weren't nameless anymore.

No, now you have many names.

Cheap, livestock, thing, toy... To call the least explicit.

And harassment came.

They didn't harass you on The Internet or tried to cross the line.

Thay said, that dirt wasn't worth to get in jail or any legal troubles. But they left notes, were rude, yelled at you, shoved you. Some people send complaints to the university.

They didn't want to be near you.

Professors didn't do anything. You were grown-ups, can deal with your own problems. But they asked all of you to be quiet. So you won't ruin the university's image of a prestigious, place with good students.

you were ruining not only BSD's Cast reputation. you are ruining university's reputation

Café's manager didn't do anything. Deal with it on your own. But he demand, that you deal with it not in front of the clients. And promised to fire you, if you start a scandal.

You tried to fight. You tried to explain. Show some of your messages with Oda, Mori, Nikolai, Fukuzawa and Fitzgerald.

But there was no way for you to prove, that you and BSD Cast were just friends.

"You have a second phone, where the evidence are!"

"I don't know, what is more disgusting. The number of your 'roommares'.or their ages."

"Don't come near. You are a freak without any morals."

was it your fault?did you deserve it? if you had friends in university, maybe you would...

there was no use in crying over spilled milk

you simply must move on

summer is soon

after holidays, they will forget about you

_______

You and Piano Man were feeding ducks in local park. Both of you were silent.

Silence was comfortable.

And then Piano Man spoke.

"[Y/N]... Rare Coin, can I ask you something?" his tone was gentle. You threw more seeds into the lake, before answering.

"Ask away." You smiled shyly. It's been three months since BSD Cast appeared in this world, in your life.

It felt good to have friendly conversations.

it was nice to have friends

Piano Man licked his lips, before speaking.

"[Y/N], are you alright? You looked... sad for the last few days. Did something happen? Can we help you?"

You froze.

they will hate you. you are ruining their reputation. LIE

"Everything is fine! I just worried about my finals!" a fake smile appeared on your face. Piano Man crooked an eyebrow.

"Kunikida said, that you are doing great. Or are you afraid of getting Not "100 points" but "99.99 points"?"

You nervously nodded.

"I always worried about my finals..."

Piano Man still didn't look convinced.

"And how your relationship with other students and co-workers?"

You swallow. You felt, iike a rock fall down your stomach.

"It's fine. They not really interested in me. I am just another student."

Piano Man looked at you for few moments. He clearly wanted to ask more questions, but decided to drop the subject.

"Fine. I will believe you. But, please, if you have troubles, talk to us. We care about you. We will help you."

You mumble something under your breath.

they will hate you for lying. idiot. go back to your books

Piano Man threw remaining seeds to the ducks. He held his hand towards you.

"Let's go and buy some groceries. Goncharov promised to cook stew for dinner."

_________

You had a headache. You just wanted this day to be over. You wanted to go home. To stay far away from the Café and University. From students.

They were glaring at you. They hated you.

Duncan, your manager, was towering over you. He bared his teeth and hissed.

"I promise you, you won't stay here for tool long. I will make sure, that you will be fired. Who knew, what diseases you are carrying around. I don't want to have my life ruined because of your debauchery."

You close your eyes. You are hated, because of stupid rumors.

And you can't ask anyone for help.

you aren't important enough to be a burden

to ask for help

you want to cry

you fight the urge

don't show weakness

you need this job

to pay rent

to keep your old apartment

The Café door was opened.

🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹

Piano Man didn't walk into the restaurant. He simply stopped before restaurant window and waved his hand, showing Albatross, Doc and Lippmann, that it was time.

Piano Man kept looking at the Café. At place, where you were working. At place, where you were harassed.

He clenched his fists.

He remembered, how you were acting during last finals. They still were in their world, but they could tell, that you weren't panicking or having a meltdown...

And about students.

There was one thing, that concern not only Piano Man, but all members of BSD Cast.

How empty your list of messages were.

Chat with parents. Chat for your group of students. Chat for all university students (only reading, where students can't post). Chat for Sunset Café workers.

And you hardly interacted with any if the chats.

It would be a good thing, if your parents write even one in a month.

Students in a chat ignored you, if you try to ask something, making you send the message multiple times.

Workers in a café left you on read for a good chunk of time, answering the last moment.

And even after they appeared in this world, they didn't see you hanging with someone else, exept them.

Were you bullied? No, not a correct term.

Piano Man remembered bruises. Bruises, that, according to you, came from falling down.

You were harrassed.

How dare they hurt you?

"[Y/N], don't worry, dear, we will protect you."

You were shy, kind, clever and adorable. Yet, some bastards thought, that they can hurt you. They were wrong.

And Flags will show them, how wrong they were.

"Ready?" asked his friends.

Three "Ready" were his answers.

Ice Man just walked into the café. Piano Man moved forward. Doc, Albatross and Lippmann followed after him.

🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹

Duncan was too absorbed in scoffing at you. He didn't notice, how Iceman walked into a café.

Your other co-workers, however, saw his. And tried to stay as far away as they can.

Iceman was a good man. Soft-spoken and kind. He often invites you to drink coffee together, while listening to some of his records.

But he does have an overwhelming presence. With a scar running down his right eye and emotionless face, tall /hit/ man didn't look like an embodiment of friendship.

Duncan continues to spit insults at you.

"You are everything, that is wrong with your generation. You have no honor or any idea, how normal human beings should behave in society!"

You turned away and tried not to pay attention. You failed. Duncan's yells were loud.

Shouts of approval were heard from different parts of the café. Iceman may have looked scary, but people can't pass up the chance to rub your face in your 'inappropriate' behavior.

With a corner of your eye you saw, how Iceman picked up one of the vases, that was standing on each table and had flowers put in it. With vase in hand, Iceman continue walking to Duncan and you.

You shake your head, trying to stop Iceman from doing what he wanted to do.

you don't need troubles at work!

Door opened again.

The Rest of the Flags walked inside. You have a bad feeling about this.

Duncan's loud howls were interrupted by a soft ringing sound. The fiery speaker fell and hit his face against the floor.

Behind him was Iceman with the most repentant expression on his face. But a sly smile was ruining the image.

"I'm so clumsy!" Iceman “apologized,” pointing with his hand at the glass shards of the vase and the scattered flowers, that were lying on the floor.

“But, honestly, he is such a disgusting guy. It was time for him to shut up.”

Your co-workers realized, what happened just at the end of the speech, and the last words Iceman spoke crouching. A tray of dirty dishes, which Max threw from the kitchen door, passed over his head. The tray flew further and landed on John's head, who tried to escape at the wrong time.

The dishes' life came to an end.

The joyful cry “Get them!” that came from Albatross, announced that the calm day was ruined completely, irrevocably and for everyone at once.

Iceman, with a confident, clearly practiced movement, grabbed surprised you, and threw you behind the counter.

In the café, meanwhile, Piano Man was steadily dipping Max into a bucket of dirty water, Doc was methodically beating John with a rolling pin. Iceman jumped over the tables, running from Steve, the only guard who was already out of breath. Lippmann, who had stolen a frying pan from the kitchen in the midst of a fight, was reprimanding something to the conscious Duncan, reinforcing his words with blows from the frying pan. Albatross throw Kasey onto the counter, and, grabbing her by the collar, began dragging her back and forth.

You didn't know what to do. You were never in a fight before, and, if you stand up, you could become an easy target, putting Flags in disadvantage.

Albatross dragged Kasey away from the counter, so he can deal with another waiter at the same time, and you take a better look at what was going on.

Right that moment, Iceman and Steve ran past the counter, and Steve was close to catching Iceman.

You can't let him hurt your friend!

You grabbed a bottle of vanilla syrup and hit Steve with it.

The guard was now cowered in sticky substance.

And owner finally decided to check on what was going on.

_________

You were standing outside Sunset Café, holding your bag.

Flags brought enough money to pay for all the damage they caused. Owner agreed not to press charges.

But you were fired. You were the reason for a fight. Flags didn't hide, that they saw you being harassed by your former co-workers, and they simply can't let them continue that.

Flags said, that they have proofs. And thanks for that, Max, Duncan, Kasey, John, Steve and others won't press charges.

it is your fault your fault you almost get Flags in trouble

You didn't know what to feel.

You won't be harassed anymore.

But you lose a job. And other places in this town aren't interested in hiring students.

And you need the job

You need money

To keep your old apartment

So you will have...

"[Y/N]? Are you okay? " Iceman's soft voice sounded right above your ear. You looked up at him at the rest of the Flags, who were standing behind him. All of them looked guilty. Iceman spoke again.

"[Y/N], we are sorry, that you have lost your job. But, please, understand, that we couldn't just let some idiots harassed you. We wanted to protect you."

Flags nodded in agreement.

You open your mouth and said the truth.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it. And don't worry about my job. I will find another one"

you wanted this. friends, that will protect you. someone, you can protect

Albatross jumped closer to you and put his arm around your shoulders.

"That's the spirit! So, want to grab a bite, before going home?"

Without waiting for your answer, he led you away from Sunset Café. Flags followed after you two.

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

Iceman walked behind you. And he was observing. He was glad, that you were safe now. But your attitude... What was going on? Why you let others walked over you?

Right now, you looked happy. But, what if one day... Because of other students...

Iceman whispered.

"We need to discuss it with others. Something is still wrong with Snowflake."

Piano Man, the only one, who heard him, nodded in agreement.

Iceman continue observing you. Albatross was recalling the best moments of the fight, and how cool you were, hitting the guard with a bottle.

You looked embarrassed, but you also participate in conversation.

For now, everything was good.

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

You were half-way to the diner, Flags have chosen to grab a bite.

Your last paycheck felt heavy in your pocket.

Last money you earned.

You will spend them on a rent.

On your old apartment, that BSD Cast thought you left permanently.

Because you need this apartment.

Because, after BSD Cast will see, how boring and stupid you are, they will leave. And you will need a place to return to.

But for now, you will simply enjoy your lunch with Flags.

[queerism1969]

General stuff I wish more cis people knew:

Being trans is a situation one is born into. No, trans children are not cis kids who are being manipulated or abused by parents because it's "trendy". That shit is just a modern reworking of the "gays are recruiting kids into homosexuality!" bullshit from the 70's and 80's.

Trans women are not "biologically male" and trans men are not "biologically female". Transition causes massive biological changes; trans men who are on testosterone and have had a hysterectomy have far more biologically in common with cis men than with cis women, and trans women who are on estrogen and have had reconstructive surgery have far more biologically in common with cis women than with cis men.

The existence of trans people is not a recent phenomenon, and the number of trans people is not increasing. Trans people have always existed; there are just more out trans people now.

Trans women are not gay men who attempt to become women in response to homophobia, trans men are not women who attempt to become men in response to sexism, and trans people would still exist and still need to transition even if both homophobia and sexism were eliminated.

Many trans women are bi or lesbian; many trans men are bi or gay (attracted to other men) (see p.28-29)

Allowing trans women and girls to use the same public facilities as other women (e.g., restrooms, locker rooms, etc) does not put cis women and girls at risk

That there are not more trans women than there are trans men.

Most trans people are not visibly identifiable as trans

Being trans and/or transition is not biblically condemned, and being trans/transitioning is not universally condemned by mainstream religious organizations

Spelling and grammatical notes:

It's transgender, not "transgendered"

It's dysphoria, not "dysmorphia". Dysmorphia is an unrelated anxiety condition on the OCD spectrum.

Transgender is an adjective, not a noun. So there are transgender people, but nobody is "a transgender".

The word cis is a Latin prefix, not an acronym, so there's no need to capitalize it as CIS. Cis is short for cisgender, which is the opposite of transgender. The prefix cis- means "on this side/on the same side", while trans- means "across/beyond/on the other side". E.g., cislunar vs. Translunar orbits

Faux pas to avoid:

Don't ask about our genitals unless you're our doctors or there's mutual interest in sex. Don't ask about "the surgery" either, which is still really just asking about our genitals

Same goes for the graphic details of our sex lives. Unless we're already in the kind of relationship where we casually discuss these matters, it's none of your business

When talking about something a trans person did before they transitioned, refer to them by the name and pronouns they use now unless they have specifically told you otherwise. It's like talking about someone who used to be married to an abusive asshole, but has since divorced him and stopped using his name. Even if talking about something she did while still married, I really hope you wouldn't call her "Mrs. Abusive Ex". That would be spectacularly tactless. That's not her name now and not how she wants to be known.

Never out someone unless they have given you explicit permission to do so. Don't assume that because they're out to some people that they are comfortable having others know that aspect of their medical history

If you accidentally refer to someone by the wrong pronouns, just correct yourself and move on. Don't dwell on it, just make a serious effort to not do it again

[metalomagnetic]

I asked a question about your house elf lore a while back, are you still sitting on that one or did it not get to you? or maybe you don't want to answer it? sorry to bother you I just wanted to see if I should resend it or not

I'm sorry! I looked back through my inbox until I found your question.

Sometimes asks pile up and I lose track of them! I hope no one thinks I am ignoring them on purpose.

Now, with that out of the way, here is your initial question (I hope this is yours, at least):

I love the world building you did around house elves/goblins/the fey in "it runs" all the little tidbits that get dropped make me hungry for more. Can you possibly elucidate on the full story behind the fey vs wizard kind conflict? was the black family and astral magic actually instrumental in the war or is that just black propaganda? i'm not sure how reliable of a narrator a black family elf should be considered.

So, I picture the High Elves more like the elves from Lord of the Rings. As human societies started developing and advancing, the high elves diminished in numbers, losing forests and also they were very sensitive to materials humans started using, like iron and copper and such, that was slowly poisoning them.

I like to imagine they started fucking around with humans sometimes in ancient times. Muggles weren't too perceptive to what was going on, since the elves used magical trickery, but wizards took notice. At the time, wizards coexisted together with muggles in the Harry Potter universe.

There were attempts made to accommodate both species, treaties brokered and then broken, on both sides, until the first war started.

It ended with high casualties on all sides, and with no clear victor. New 'borders' were agreed upon, places for the elves to dwell into, where humans weren't allowed, and vice versa.

Of course, as centuries passed, and muggles especially developed more and more, their villages spreading into larger areas, their needs greater, cities being raised all around, things escalated again. It didn't help that most muggles either didn't believe in the existence of elves, either considered them plights/enemies sent by their gods. Muggles have shorter life spams, and shorter memory. Besides, education and written history wasn't easily available to muggles at large. Elves, on the other hand, have incredible life spans, and while wizards don't come close, they, too, live longer than muggles and they do 'see' magic, so wizards were always more aware of such things, as they are aware of werewolves and vampires etc.

In the second war, the Black family and other great wizarding families were already established powers around Europe, far more organised than their ancestors; by now wands were much more in use, which was a vast improvement from the past, allowing all magical people easier access to magic.

Because they had means of quick communication, unlike muggles, and because the elves were far lesser in numbers than they've been previously, the second Elvish war was mostly between wizards and elves, with very little muggle involvement.

The elves didn't think they could survive as a species in this new, polluted world, so this time there will be no end to the war.

They fought to extinction levels.

The Blacks and their use of astral magic were, indeed, a big part of the war ( in my backstory for this, it was a man named Helix Black the First that was in charge of the family back then). But other families were as instrumental as them. Many great houses perished in the war, and even the Blacks were decimated in numbers, losing nine direct family members, and many other distant relatives or in-laws.

As the war was drawing to a close, and wizards were emerging on the winning side, they started hunting down what remained of small clusters of elves still surviving in deep forests .

They found the elvish children, having been kept hidden during the war (elvish children age far slower than human ones).

Some wizards wanted them killed, to end this once and for all. Others weren't so keen on this plan. A great council was made to decide on their fates.

The side against the slaughter won, but everyone agreed it wasn't a good idea to just leave them be, risking another uprising in the future.

A witch of great power came up with the idea of cursing the elvish younglings, and forcing them into complete obedience. The curse affected the development of the elves, leaving them stunted, emotionally, mentally, and physically.

A Sacred Circle was made out of witches and wizards that gave their lives to power the curse. From England, twenty eight wizards and witches participated in the Circle, including a Black (And because of this, all the families that lost members to this curse, are now know as the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I know that's not what they are in canon, and it was simply a list made by one Mr. Nott, but this is just my head canon to give more depth and history to the wizarding world).

As the curse was cast (I like to imagine it took like two days of casting to manage such a feat of magic) some of the older elvish children managed to escape their makeshift prisons. They sought refuge underground. The curse still reached them, but because of their age (say around 30 years olds, which was still child by elven metrics) they managed to resist at least the compulsions and they remain hidden underground. Their bodies naturally adapted to the environment. They eventually became goblins.

The younger children that didn't escape, including a twelve year old Tessuth, were fully affected by the curse. They never grew properly, their bodies shifted, too, the dark magic wrecking havoc on them. They were then enslaved to wizards. There weren't that many children, but the Sacred Families that fought hardest in the war, and that sacrificed their own to cast the curse, had priority in picking. Helix Black demanded two elves. Tessuth, and her even younger sister (who will eventually become Kreacher's grandmother). People just thought he's a greedy dick for wanting two.

In reality, Helix had deep trauma from the war, had developed a begrudging respect for the elves in the years spent fighting them, but he had also lost his twin children in one battle. When he went to take one elf, he found Tessuth cradling her younger sister, and on an impulse, with his twins in mind, he didn't want to separate them, so he took them both.

Unlike many other houses that took their anger for the losses they suffered on the now newly made house elves, Helix never could put aside the tragedy of it all. He saw the extinction of elves as necessary, he never regretted it, it was wizards (in fact, all humans, not just wizards) or elves, and he served proudly in the war, but the horror of it all stayed with him, and he treated Tessuth and her sister more as prisoners of war than slaves.

He killed himself when his only surviving grandson, who was Tessuth's age, reached adulthood, leaving him in charge of the family.

Eventually, a century or two later, when goblins resurfaced, no one wanted another war. Concessions were made, goblins were allowed to live in the wizarding world, but it was never an easy peace, and that, too, led to many goblin rebellions.

In one of life's ironies, in the last goblin rebellion, the Head of House Black was another Helix.

By that time, however, house-elves had been completely brainwashed into hating goblins. The very old house elves like Tessuth and Kreacher's grandmother, were not only brainwashed, but held resentment for being abandoned by their fellow elven siblings, during the first war, that they escaped without them. The newer generations of elves, completely unaware of this history, simply hated goblins because their masters told them so. House elf magic was used heavily in goblin rebellions, to guard wizarding homes, because goblins and house-elves obviously share the same type of magic.

A true tragedy, and the story of the High Elves, regal, powerful, arrogant, that died off to make way for humans.

Some of the magic in the world died with them, which also affected wizards, turning them weaker. Wizards of today will never be as powerful as the wizards that lived in the time of the High Elves.

There will be short mentions about this in the fic, just a sentence or two, as we already had, but not very much. It is of no importance to Sirius and his journey, and we already know he doesn't care much about house- elves, even if he is fully aware of their history. He doesn't spend time thinking of this, he just barely learned to get along with Kreacher and he's a little scared of Tessuth, so there is no reason to have much of this mentioned.

[remidyal]

So I'm going to start speculating a little about future D20 seasons, just because we're running out of JY and thinking about that makes me sad.

My guess is that we're getting another four side quests, plus the replays of the Time Quangle live shows, before whenever the next IH season is (probably jan or feb 2025). From Dropout's production schedule, most likely at least two, probably three, and maybe all four are either already filmed or filming presently. The strikes may have disrupted this somewhat, however.

We know the names of two from the 5th anniversary video; we also know from the JY FAQ for a fact that one of these two, called "Never Stop Blowing Up" is next.

In the last few years this has been the slot for a campaign not GMed by Brennan or Aabria; I'm going to actually guess that there's a decent chance Brennan also won't be a player though I'm not at all sure of the timing with paternity leave and all. What the season is from that title could be a lot of things, though social media stars or stuntpeople have been guesses I've enjoyed. I think this is going to be a new setting, rather than something set in a preexisting universe, but I could be wrong there and there's been speculation that it might be something Starstruck (in which case I WOULD expect Brennan at the table).

GM possibilities for this or any other season even just from among people who have played on D20 before are too widespread to even do a complete list; highlights who have played on but haven't GMed for D20 and who I understand have experience (and would be excited to see) include but certainly aren't limited to Jasper, Ify, and Anjali from various side quests. Among the IH, Siobhan has made it fairly clear that she's not interested in GMing. I don't know if Ally has experience or not but they would obviously run something wild and I'd be here for it. Lou I believe has DMed home games but not actual plays; I'm uncertain if he'd be interested in running for a show, but I'd certainly watch if he did. Emily and especially Murph have a ton of experience as well but I think NADDPOD is kind of too much for Murph at least to GM outside that. Zac is low-key the IH I think is the most likely to end up GMing a season; rotating heroes is a thing, of course, but I don't think the workload there is as high as NADDPOD's.

We also know a Dungeons and Drag Queens 2 is coming at some point. The most likely format for this is a straightforward sequel with Brennan GMing for either the same four players or four different Queens, but I would actually love to see one of the players from the prior run step into the GM seat if any of them have gotten deeply into the hobby in the meantime. If they swap Brennan out for another DM here, this would maybe be the one season where I'd be delighted for it to be Murph, simply for the makeup possibilities. (One possibility is simply that he wears Cody Walsh cosplay for the season.)

I also think (or maybe I'm just trying to speak into existence) that we will get another 10-episode Aabria-GMed season this year, probably as the lead-in right before the next IH season for the third time running. Burrow's End and ACoFaF are both out of this world, stellar seasons to me (MiMa is... complicated by how much I want the property it's mocking to fade from memory, but that isn't its fault or hers) and I want to see what she does next.

Last, probably between D&DQ2 and that 10-episode season if that happens, we'll probably have another 4-6 episode original. If Brennan DMs D&DQ2 and Never Stop Blowing Up, this will probably be someone else; otherwise, not much to go off of.

It's possible that the live shows end up filling in one of these slots and are treated as a season until themselves, but I think they're going to be released not all in a row but rather to fill weeks between seasons. This might just be a greedy hope on my part, though! I do hope Brennan sits out at least one season, and I'd love it if the person who GMs who isn't Aabria or Brennan is someone who's done less prominent projects. (I'm actually talking myself into really rooting for a Zac-GMed season, though Ify's been my main hope for a long while.)

One thing that does seem to have shifted lately, specifically in Dropout's marketing - in the past, they were always extremely secretive about seasons past the currently airing one until it was complete, with the names not even known until the release of the season trailers. This changed a little when they teased Matt Mercer gming a season (which turned out to be RavWar) during Never After's airing; it's changed much more in the last two seasons, with a teaser for Junior Year coming out before Burrow's End had even started airing and with the names of multiple seasons being given in advance. It wouldn't surprise me if we continue getting little seeds for future seasons as we move forward.