#then again hes shown that he can live without being idolized if he believes whats he doing or believes in is right

[vixscribs]

despite benrook being a decently popular ship I can't seem to get behind a lot of fan content I see. Those are coworkers. There's no way they're snuggling and shit that's highly unprofessional.

[kuruparlayan]

Adonis is constantly aware of everything and has way more life experience than everyone else in the main cast.

Only it appears less so because, unlike most people in ES, he is severely less dramatic. He does not speak what he sees out loud, but he is one of the very rare character who shows and not tell. Time and time again, Adonis always reacted appropriately to a situation while making sure everyone is comfortable. He is observant, and easily identifies people's feelings.

He is the son of a high ranking diplomat. He has been shown since a young age the ins and outs of such profession. There is thin line between being a politician and being an idol, he is doing both his dear parents' profession at the same time. And so, given his healthy relationship with them and the different paths his sisters took, without the pressure of needing to: Adonis loves what his parents did with their life and aspire to do so out of his own volition.

The main cast is very young and is only recently entering the "adult world", while Adonis was forced to face it since a very young age. However, his power level is severely downsized due to, mostly, racism and imposter syndrome. There is a very thin line where Adonis is self-conscious of many things, such as his imposing appearance, and his bias is inherently is that he is scary when in actuality he is not, people are just racists and assume he is most likely a brute.

It feeds on Adonis' desire to find a supportive environment, to be supportive, to want to help out, and thus he always try to adjust to not be a problem... when he is not one, sometimes people are just unfair asshole. However, where Adonis differs from more immature characters, I do firmly believes he is aware of this discrepancy, but is so kindhearted since what he wants most, and, in a tragic way, way more than his own self worth being shown, is for peace and everyone to get along.

Adonis is so mature emotionally he is able to handle stress in a very healthy way, having processed his traumatic childhood and channelling it through devoting himself to his loved ones and his aspirations. He is one of the only character to be very mentally healthy with little to no treated scars despite having had the most severe trauma. He deserves such a huge spotlight, but keeps sidelining himself due to not wanting to cause a scene by being a minority and letting his friends have it first. I'd usually be so upset at this, but in terms of him, Adonis, his own character, his own person, it is just so tragically beautiful.

I am a firm believer that Adonis can quickly assess others' issues whenever he meets them, only he is such a healthy person that he understands boundaries and, unlike other characters, will not meddle in others' private matters. And he knows how to not personally be affected by others having such troubling matters. He is also so healthy he knows when to clearly state he is unavailable to be emotional support, understands his own emotions, his own limits, and how to react to them. He also understands when others are not ready to change, and he accepts this, appreciates the person for where they are at, and continue on living his best life. HE'S THE BEST MAN. (cause Ogami is best boy)

[whysojiminimnida]

Free Jungkook from your homophobia, more like.

Homophobic hateful behavior. That’s what it is when a man is telling you out loud who he loves and you’d rather deflect, avoid, deny and invalidate. You’d rather scream at his employer, hate his lover, and call him a liar than listen to the man you say you love. You’re wrong. It’s wrong. No argument you have is valid at this point. You believe him or you choose to deny him on the basis of your prejudice against him. That’s it. When people choose to actively denigrate, invalidate and hate on an individual due to their perceived or obvious sexual orientation and/or choice of partner, those people are not fans. Those people are by definition haters, antis and bullies. You are perpetrating homophobic abusive bullshit on two men who have done nothing but love you, entertain you and work for you and you should be ashamed of yourselves.

Does Jungkook need to be freed from shippers? I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to free him from Taekook when he has explicitly said they’re not close like that. It wouldn’t hurt to free him from Jinkook hard shippers who don’t understand platonic love vs. sexual love. But really neither of those or any other ships really give Jungkook much lost sleep, I don’t think. He’s not worried about y’all because guess what? Toxic TKKers aside, y’all affect his personal life about zero percent of the time. Idol training prepares these men – all of them – for shipping, for fan interaction and fanservice, for the duality of image they are expected to present. That duality is a learned skill, kids. The level of camera intrusion into a successful idol’s life is insane and they are taught how to handle that and what to show the public with the assumption that everything will always be shown to the public. Are exceptions made? Of course. All the time. Editing does happen. Some stuff gets left on the floor. We freak out when things make it to the public without taking into consideration the number of people it takes to sign off on those decisions. That’s why moments like Rose Bowl and 2018 MAMA are so major – there wasn’t time to edit those things. They were caught live and available globally within moments of their capture. But Hickeygate and They Look Exceptionally Close Today and Neck Stroke Holiday Dynamite were crafted products deliberately shown to us by BigHit/Hybe, in packaged products. Hell they reclaimed Rose Bowl and stuck it in DVD format and you don’t think that was a calculated move? Read that again – they CHOSE TO SHOW US THIS. DELIBERATELY. WITH SIGNOFFS ON MULTIPLE LEVELS AND ARTIST/MANAGEMENT INPUT. ONE MORE TIME IN THE BACK THEY DID IT ON PURPOSE THEY ARE NOT HIDING THIS IS AS OUT AS WE ARE GONNA GET WITHOUT A SEX TAPE OR A WEDDING VIDEO.

BUT some fans are stupid and some of us – a distressing number -  are violently and virulently anti-LGBTQ+.  And before you start the “my brother is gay don’t” I CAN AND I AM BECAUSE YOU ARE. You may love your gay bro. Hell you might be gay yourself – internalized homophobia is real. But let’s face it – if your problem is that Jungkook is being shipped with Jimin then why is that a problem?  What makes you mad we gonna call out an actual admitted hickey from the giggling-ass involved adult parties? Why is making a hickey a romantic, sexual thing wrong? BECAUSE TWO DICKS ARE INVOLVED AND YOU ARE NOT. That’s why, kids. And not just any dicks. His dick and yep, his dick too and guess what, hard-ons happened and were likely dealt with as a result JUST LIKE IT GOES ON A REGULAR BASIS. A neck mark like that is clear evidence of sexual activity and that is what has your homophobia acting up. Because whether you admit it or not you know exactly what it means. And why you might be fine with it being with a girl JUST NOT WITH JIMIN. Denying it with “my brother does it to me” makes you look like a liar or an incest victim and I hope for your sake it’s the former. Making it a cover for a girl just makes you gross in your str8 agenda and I hope you choke on it. Does Jungkook even find women attractive? I haven’t seen evidence of that – I’ve seen more of that from Jimin, actually – but he might. Very well could. Bisexuality and pansexuality exist and as a member of the latter community it’s more common than you think. But Jungkook openly and clearly finds men – one man in particular – more attractive than anyone else. He is absolutely, most assuredly doing the sexy gay sex with one Park Jimin whether you like it or not. Is now, has been for at least four or five years, possibly longer. Stan a man who believes in true love and a long term relationship, it’s healthy for everyone. Good for you. Free Jungkook. Free Jungkook from dumbass homophobic bullshit. Free him from people who don’t love and support him and his orientation and his relationship. Free him from everybody except Park Jimin because they have a date to go to the moon, a deserted island, and their own damn bed without us. And after all this I hope they do.

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

To Die For (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! It is with great joy and a little bit of sadness that I present you all with the final part of “Love Goes”. This part in particular is inspired by Sam Smith’s “To Die For”. Pieces from Endgame are used but very little. 

Summary: The aftermath of Endgame, how will Wanda navigate and what will happen to Y/n. 

“I long for you, just a touch of your hand. You don't leave my mind. Lonely days I'm feeling like a fool for dreaming… Sunshine living on a perfect day while my world's crashing down.”

Hope. That was all Wanda had left. She knew that she couldn’t let it waver for even a moment. Allowing the hope within her to waver would be the same as accepting defeat. Accepting that you weren’t coming back. That was something she would never allow herself to believe. 

Like you told her, you and her were a happy ending. It’s the only ending she could ever envision for herself. The only life she wanted. The only life she’d accept. You and her. Together. Happily.

It had only been a week since the fateful battle and you had been transferred to a S.W.O.R.D. facility since. What worried Wanda most was that you still hadn’t woken up and hadn’t shown much progression since arriving. 

She could still feel you though. 

Wanda would allow herself glimpses into your mind and could see the vibrancy that still existed within. Your heart was still beating, and your mind was still your own. Even if you weren’t awake, you were still you.

The thought brought comfort to Wanda despite the circumstances. It kept hope alive in her heart.

It was only a matter of time until you were awake and in her arms again. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. 

The situation could have been worse though and she knew that. Shortly after you were transferred to the facility she learned the full details of how exactly Thanos was defeated. How Tony and Natasha had given their lives in exchange for the outcome. As much as the news saddened her, she couldn’t help but feel a selfish sense of relief that you hadn’t been dealt the same fate. 

Her life – her heart - felt as though it was hanging in the balance. You were all she had. All she wanted. If she lost you she knew there would be no recovery for her. She’d drown. Sink to the bottom with no chance of resurfacing if you weren’t there to pull her back up. 

The warmth of your hand in her own anchored her. It always did, but not as much as being in your arms, or hearing your voice. “I’m drowning.” She whispered against your hand. “I’m drowning, Y/n. I need to hear your voice, see you open your eyes, and have you hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay. I’m drowning, and you can’t save me until you wake up.” Her lips trembled slightly against your hand as a single tear fell down her cheek.

The days and nights had blurred together for her. Both of which were spent unwaveringly at your side. The only disruptions often came in the form of varying people in the facility checking your vitals or injecting new medications into your IV that they informed her should wake you up soon. 

Besides the worry and fear she constantly felt, there was a sense of bitterness that the only one who had come to see you or her during your time in the facility was Fury. That was only when you were still at S.H.I.E.L.D’s location. It was upsetting to her that Steve had yet to visit you considering the history you two shared and how close you two had always been. Considering how you had been willing to risk your life for him on multiple occasions. 

Today was Tony’s funeral and she was reluctantly leaving your side to pay her respects for a short while. Also, to give Rogers a piece of her mind.

When the funeral concluded she wandered over to the lake to collect her thoughts and emotions. Taking in the beautiful day around her, a stark contrast to how she felt internally. The perfect day felt wrong when it still felt like her world was crashing down within her. 

As she was staring out the lake, preparing herself for what she wanted to tell Steve, Clint walked up to her. “Hey, kid.” 

Wanda kept a neutral face and merely nodded at him. “Hello.”

There was hesitation in the way Clint stopped at her side. “You have every right to not want to talk to me right now.” He began seriously, his head ducked shamefully. “I wanted to go visit Y/n… Check on you. I did. I just-… It’s been hard accepting that Nat’s gone, you know? It’s not an excuse for not being there. It’s just where my head was. I’m sorry, Wanda.” 

As much as Wanda wanted to ignore him, she knew she couldn’t. “I understand.” She replied softly, her gaze still on the lake before her. 

“I wish there was a way that I could let her know that we won. That we did it.” Clint admitted quietly to her.

Wanda shifted her gaze to him. “She knows.” There was a small pause. “They both do.” Despite not being awake, she liked to believe that you knew.

Clint wrapped a comforting arm around her and she leaned into the embrace. 

“Wanda.” A somber voice caught her attention as she turned to find Steve standing there with his hands folded behind his back. “A word?”

Clearly not wanting to be caught in the crossfire, Clint stepped back. “I think that’s my cue to go.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Wanda’s head. “I’ll do better, okay? Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be by to visit Y/n soon.” Wanda nodded slightly at his words as he walked away. 

When Clint was out of the vicinity, Steve stepped into his place. Wanda’s jaw clenched. She was more upset at him than anyone. She knew if roles were reversed you would have been uncompromisingly by his side.

“What do you want?” She asked, her tone cold.

Steve’s face remained neutral despite her tone. “How is she?”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips at his question. “How is she?” she shook her head in disbelief. “You have a lot of nerve asking that when you’ve had a whole week to go see for yourself.”

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. “Look, Wanda, I understand you’re upset with me but I-“

Wanda rounded on him, her eyes livid. “Upset? I am far passed upset, Rogers. I’m furious. Y/n needed you and you abandon her. She would have done anything for you! She idolized you!”

Each of Wanda’s words impacted Steve, she could see that, but she didn’t stop. He took it. “She thought you were her family and you couldn’t even be bothered to go see for yourself if she’s okay! You don’t even care-“

“Enough! That’s not true!” Steve roared. The accusation that he didn’t care seemingly being the final straw. Wanda recoiled in surprise. “I feel guilty, okay? I feel like the only reason that she’s in there in the first place is because of me. I couldn’t face her. I didn’t deserve to.” His volume didn’t lower as the emotions he was holding in finally boiled over. 

“You know she wouldn’t have blamed you.” Wanda eventually replied, her tone still clipped.

Steve rubbed a hand down his face. “I know, but I do. I blame myself. She was trying to protect me, and she only felt like she had to protect me because I couldn’t stop him the first time. She got hurt because I couldn’t get to her fast enough. She’s my family too.” 

As much as she wanted to be angry with him, she found it much more difficult when she learned of the guilt that seemed to be weighing heavily on him. “You know Y/n would have done that either way.” She confessed quietly. “She would have tried to stop him regardless of who she was defending. That’s who she is.”

A weak nod was his only response. Wanda wasn’t sure if he believed her. “How has she been?” Steve repeated, hoping for a genuine answer this time.

“She still hasn’t woken up.” Wanda began unsteadily. “They keep injecting her with new serums everyday saying that each one will wake her up, but it never does.”

Steve closed his eyes at the information, his expression distressed for just a moment until he schooled his features and put on a brave face for Wanda. “She’s going to wake up. I know she will.” 

Hearing the words she had been telling herself from someone else brought Wanda a small sense of comfort. “I know she will too.” She turned to him. “I’m going to get back to her now, she needs me. Go see her.” 

“I will.” He nodded firmly, his words definitive. “I have to return the stones in an hour and try and see if I can undo something. As soon as I do that I’ll be immovably by her side. I’ll stay with you until she wakes up. You have my word. She has my word.” There was purpose in his voice. 

Wanda quirked her lips up slightly at him and nodded without a word. She knew he meant what he said. She walked off to her car to begin the drive back to S.W.O.R.D’s medical branch of the facility. ___________________ Her heart dropped when she entered your room, only to be met with an empty bed. On numb legs, she ran out and stopped the first worker she saw. “Y/n Y/ln. Where is she? She was here just an hour ago.” 

The employee looked around nervously. “She’s been moved. I believe it would be in your best interest to speak to the director.”

Wanda’s brow furrowed in confusion. “The director? Why?”

“His office is located on the second floor, third door on the left.” The employee informed her meekly before scurrying away. 

Practically running, Wanda reached the office in minutes, throwing the door open. “Ms. Maximoff.” The man who she presumed to be the director greeted her, an unnerving smile on his face.

“Where is she?” Wanda demanded, not caring about anything other than being reunited with you. “Is-is she okay?” Anxiety began to build within her and press against her chest making it harder for her to breath. Her nails dug into her palms.

The man gestured for her to sit in an empty chair, she ignored the request. “My name is Tyler Hayward. I am the director of S.W.O.R.D.”

Wanda merely stared blankly back at him, her jaw clenched tightly. “Where. Is. Y/n?” She enunciated sharply, her patience fading. 

The unnerving smile never faltered on Hayward’s face. “That is the unfortunate part, Ms. Maximoff. You see, while you were gone Ms. Y/ln suffered from some brain hemorrhaging. We were able to stop it, but it seems her brain has suffered an extensive amount of damage. We ran some tests and it appears she has lost all cognitive function. She is just a shell now. She only has another day or two at best. I’m sorry.”

Wanda’s world stopped at his words. She immediately shook her head. “That’s not true.” She said shakily as tears began streaming down her cheeks, the weight on her chest getting heavier, forcing her under. She couldn’t breathe. “That’s not true. Let me see her.” 

Hayward gestured forward to the large window in his office. “They’re running some tests on her now, but so far the data has remained conclusive. There is no longer brain function.” Numbly Wanda walked up to the large window and glanced down, feeling the life drain from her at the sight of you. Pale and on what looked like an experimentation table, surrounded by several S.W.O.R.D. scientists.  “I’m afraid it’s time to start talking about letting her go.”

Wanda spun around to face him angrily. “Let her go?” she cried, her voice cracking. “She’s all I have.”

Hayward held his hands up slightly. “It’s only a matter of days before she’s unable to breathe on her own and her heart stops being.”

Empty. That’s what she felt at his words. She wanted to scream. Her powers reacted to the emotion she was feeling before her mind did as the glass she was leaning on shattered. Without hesitation she floated down to where you were. Her heart hammering in her chest the closer she got. 

The world around her went dark and the only sight she was able to take in was the way your chest weakly rose and fell with each breath. With shaking hands, she raised them to your temple as feeble wisps of red floated from her fingertips and disappeared into your mind. 

All she saw was darkness. 

“I can’t feel you.” She whispered brokenly, the pain in her chest overcoming her. The sensation composing her entire being as everything within her collapsed. She was alone, and she knew she wouldn’t recover. Then everything went dark around her. ________________________________

“Darling, have you seen my notebook? I’m running late for my meeting with my editor and I can’t seem to find it anywhere.” You questioned hastily as you rushed into the kitchen and skidded to a halt in the entry way. Looking around the area with a frazzled expression on your face.

Wanda looked over from her place by the stove and waved her hand, the notebook floating from under your arm to directly in front of your face. “You mean this one, dear?” She asked with an amused smile. 

Sheepishly you plucked the notebook out of the air as you made your way over to her. “What would I do without you?” You leaned forward so your lips rested gently against her own.

“Mmm,” Wanda mumbled with a smile as she spoke against your lips. Her arms resting comfortably over your shoulders. “I believe your mind would fail you, sweetheart.”

Your hands fell to her waist as you pulled her closer. “That’s for certain.” You replied easily with a loving smile. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

A small blush spread over her cheeks. “You have not but thank you. You look beautiful as well, darling. I’m beginning to get jealous that your editor gets to spend the day in your presence. Speaking of…” she trailed off and glanced pointedly at the clock.

“My meeting!” Your eyes widened as you pressed one last loving kiss to her lips. “I’ll be going now. I love you, darling. I’ll be home soon!” You shouted as you began running out. 

Wanda shook her head at you, the smile on her face never faltering. “I love you, too, dear!” She called after you, pretending to catch the kiss you blew to her as you rushed out the door. She sighed happily and leaned against the wall of the kitchen. 

The end.

 . . . . . .

“Glad you were able to make it, Rogers.” Fury said seriously as he shook Steve’s hand. “And Ms. Romanoff. Welcome back.” He shook her hand as well. 

Steve nodded easily in response. “Of course. You know that I’d be here in a heartbeat for Y/n. Wanda as well.” Both followed Fury into a large make-shift tent located in the woods. 

“What exactly are we dealing with?” Natasha asked, confusion lacing her words.

For a moment Fury seemed to ponder her question. “We’re not entirely sure.”

“Does Wanda even know that she saved Y/n? That she was never gone?” Steve questioned seriously, his arms crossed as he stared at the screen before him. 

Fury shook his head. “No. It seems Hayward convinced Wanda that Y/n was gone, no brain function. What Wanda didn’t know was he had gone rogue. Every serum they injected in Y/n kept her in her comatose state rather than attempt to wake her up like they were telling Wanda. I’ve looked at the files that my inside contacts gave me, and it seems Y/n should have been up in the first day or two to recover from minor brain swelling.”

“Why are they doing this though?” Natasha questioned as she looked over the chart. Steve’s jaw was clenched as he listened to each detail.

Taking the chart from Natasha, Fury turned the pages until he found what he was looking for and handed it back to Natasha. “Right there. It seems that Y/n carries a rare mutant gene that they could extract and essentially build an army with. They believed that if they removed Wanda from the picture they could continue the experiments and eventually wipe Y/n’s memory to use her as a weapon. Turn her into a super solider… but much worse because of her powers.” There was an edge to his tone. “They are very interested in her ability to manipulate earth and metal. They had considered Wanda briefly as well, but the perfect opportunity presented itself with Y/n. That’s why they insisted on her transfer to their facility.” 

“How do we get them back before Hayward gets to them?” Steve questioned quietly, a dangerous tone to his voice.

Instead of answering Fury gestured to the woman who had been sitting and listening to the conversation. “Wanda isn’t letting anyone with ties to your past in. Fury already tried. She won’t let you or Natasha in.” They both stared at her. “I didn’t introduce myself. Sorry, my name is Darcy Lewis. Astrophysics. Big fan.” The bespectacled woman rambled. 

Natasha smirked, an amused glint in her eye. “Okay, Darcy Lewis, what’s our next step?”

“We’ll do whatever it takes.” Steve finished powerfully as they all watched you and Wanda share a sweet kiss before the credits began to roll on the screen before them.

Well, that’s all folks! 13 parts completed! It’s been a journey writing this and it is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written. This story has become my baby and it always brings me so much joy to read your comments and seeing others enjoy it. I had a plan for this chapter since the moment I began writing this story but it was so hard when it came down to writing because of the most recent episode of Wandavision, so I tweaked it a little. Was it a sadder or happier ending? You may never know. Thank you all so much for taking this journey with me. I hope you enjoyed. 

As always, thoughts and comments always welcome. :)

p.s. I brought back Steve and Nat but I couldn’t figure out how to make Tony surviving make sense or fit the story, sorry. Still love Tony. 

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

#18: “Adrien isn't a boring character because he's perfect! Why do you think people love Superman so much?”

Been a while since I've done one of these, hasn't it? This one's going to be somewhat short like the Alya vs Krillin post, but I think this is important because it exposes a key flaw in how Astruc views a certain character he idolizes.

As early as 2015, Astruc has made it clear he has a strong sense of admiration for Superman, actually calling him his favorite character.

Astruc has always defended the claim that Superman is a boring character with some takes of his own regarding the Man of Steel in the things he's retweeted

He also ripped off, I mean took inspiration from Superman when creating the character of Majestia.

He even said that he actually considers Miraculous Ladybug to be a modernized version of the really goofy Silver Age Superman comic books from the '50s and '60s. You know, the ones that were basically clickbait in print form?

Bold of Astruc to claim he knows the difference between using symbolism and being corny. Then again, that does explain a lot, considering how a lot of the Lois Lane comics centered around humiliating her, like the one where Superman intentionally rigged a device to make Lois gain weight so a potential killer wouldn't recognize her... and never told her the plan until after the criminal was apprehended.

Because otherwise, we wouldn't get any hilarious antics with Lois struggling to adjust to her new body that was so heavy, even Superman struggled to carry her. 

Tell me you don't think Astruc would write something like that to happen to Marinette. Go on, I dare you.

Okay, enough making fun of dated comics, what does this have to do with Astruc? Well, in one of his famous tweets proclaiming that Adrien is perfect (despite several moments in the show proving otherwise) while comparing him to Superman, which says a lot about how he perceives his favorite superhero.

Now, I get that art can be interpreted in different ways, and Astruc has every right to believe this, but... come on. This is like a common misconception about Superman as a character.

Yes, Superman is easily one of the most powerful superheroes of all time, but that doesn't mean he's perfect in every way. Some of the most well-known pieces of Superman media have shown him struggling internally with certain situations he can't fight his way out of. He struggles to figure out which situations he should get involved in without abusing his powers, and that's not even getting into how hard it is for him to hold back at times, all while trying to live up to the pedestal society puts him on.

Some of the most interesting and controversial Superman moments have always revolved around him expressing his feelings, which tend to get ignored by people. Superman turning back time in the original Richard Donner film and being forced to kill General Zod in Man of Steel were both respectively shown to be caused by and resulted in Superman becoming incredibly emotional, making him question his own ideals in the process.

Just because Superman is basally invincible, it doesn't mean he's a perfect human (or rather Kryptonian) being.

I bring this up because I think Astruc doesn't really get this about Superman. I think he only sees him as this invincible paragon of justice, and likes him because he's perfect, despite so many recent Superman stories being about disproving that belief.

I'm open to being disproven here, but doesn't it sound like Astruc just said Superman is a great character because he's perfect?

And of course, this really explains why Astruc puts Adrien on a pedestal without acknowledging his flaws. He probably thinks that people like him because of how perfect he could be. According to Astruc, Adrien isn't flawed, the world is.

Sure, Astruc claims he has some flaws, but outside of Twitter, he'll never acknowledge them.

FOR THE LOVE OF— “Despair Bear” literally ended with Adrien witnessing Chloe insulting Marinette to her face, and in response, he said “She'll never change” while smiling. He only chose to chew her out when it made him look morally superior like in the beginning of “Despair Bear” and in “Queen Banana”. Do you even watch your own show, Astruc?

Intentional or not, Adrien has flaws, and like any character, this could lead to an interesting arc, but instead, all Astruc wants to do is portray him as perfect, because he possibly thinks that's what so many people admire about Superman as a character. According to Astruc, if people like Superman because he's so perfect, then by that logic, they'll love Adrien too.

[jeriafterdark]

813 - The Reprise, - Part 7 - ZZH LEAKED AUDIO March 18, 2022.

Sources: 1 2 3

Masterpost of 813 - The Reprise

I used the above sources to put together a video with the translator's translations of ZZH's leaked audio.

Context:

1. Cyberviolence against Gong Jun

Yesterday, there was a lot of uproar and drama within / without the fandom due to supposed leaks of GJ and his co-stars/cast breaking covid restriction rules (I think it was eventually shown that they followed the rules or something??). Overall, it was a small thing and they all addressed it properly, etc, but lots of anti's - ZZH's own haizhe / solo fans decided to descend upon GJ ONLY, not the other co-stars/directors/etc, for this. He even made it to black search / negative hot search on weibo? Many within our fandom were disappointed that these "fans" (and possibly paid ppl) still decided to cyberbully / commit cyberviolence against GJ after what happened to ZZH in 813. It was disappointing, but not surprising.

2. ZSJ impersonation of ZZH

This is happening in the middle of a man (ZSJ) trying to impersonate ZZH and posting weird shit on his WeChat profile to the tone of being a victim, posting false mental health information/etc, just really despicable things to rile up fans. These events caused fans to divide themselves and try to defend and protect their idol / ZZH, thinking that ZSJ is really ZZH, and ZZH is in need of protection. (I don't believe so ZSJ is ZZH btw, refer to this post for that).

3. Sudden leaked audio from the man himself, ZZH

THEN, this leaked audio appears out of nowhere, of the man himself, Zhang Zhehan. Here, I quote the translators sourced above.

"As far as I am a man, I should stand up and fight against this kind of thing. Because this is not simply cutting me out of the industry, or a prohibition of me not acting any longer. Surely, I CAN CHOOSE not acting and living on something else... but if I was treated like THIS, including my mother, and my family, all suffering from the aftermath, then I will have to stand strong and fight for them."

"As the next target and progress are getting lights in sight with new hope, and when you see the new hope, ei~~ Once again, my life is full of fighting spirit."

It's clear that ZZH is paying attention to what's happening, and because he has no access to a public platform, I have a feeling this leak was intended to calm down the fandom. It shows that he's still here, he's listening to everyone. He wants us to FOCUS on his case, and to show that he's not someone who NEEDS protecting. He's fighting for himself and his family, he has the strength of will to do so. Don't come after his Ma, his family, and Gong Jun under the false pretense of protecting ZZH/being his "fan."

Like he says, STAND STRONG.

P.S.

I missed hearing his voice so much, I'm glad he's doing well, his determination is CLEAR and STRONG. FIGHT for your justice, Zhehan! As a fan, I'll continue to support positively.

[lovingarisu]

I love your imagines! 😘 You could do one where the reader and Niragi already know each other before the borderland and they end up meeting in a game, please?

So Gentle, So Kind

summary: you knew niragi in the real world and meet him by chance in the borderlands during a game

word count: 1k

You never knew what to do in these moments. You wished that this was a long nightmare. You wanted nothing more than to wake up in your comfortable bed and go to class the next morning.

You were starting to realize this was your life now.

It wasn’t in your nature to hurt or betray people just so you could live. From the beginning until now, you just hoped you had gotten easy games that could be cleared without much human interaction. Killing someone for your own life made you feel sick to your stomach.

 You wondered if you should just let your visa run-up sometimes, the pressure of the games were beginning to weigh you down.

The sound of rain pounded against the tin roof you were huddled under. There were probably a handful of other people near you, grasping on to their phones or talking to the people they came with. You looked to the table and saw that there were a couple of phones still left.

It had been a lonely journey up until now. You hadn’t made any friends in the borderlands, too scared that they would die suddenly or you would have to kill them in a betrayal game.

You wanted nothing more than to have a companion though. Seeing people strategize with their friends before games started made your heartache.

“We made it right in time!” A voice drags you out of your daze. Three armed men walk toward the hut with a light step. The headlights of their cars made it nearly impossible to see them. 

They were all laughing and joking with each other as they slowly made it to the table. It was as if these games didn’t bother them in the least bit. You hoped one day you could get there too.

A familiar voice makes your heart drop to your feet, “Hopefully it’s not a low number again.” He said. The voice brought back so many memories. So many painful nights of crying. Days filled with laughter. Memories of baking cookies or staying up all night to watch idols perform.

Tears begin to poke at your eyes from the pure nostalgia of it all.

You turn toward the voice, “Niragi?”

“Oi, Niragi!” The school bully taunts. He bends down at looks you in the eyes, “Niragi’s slut.” He acknowledges you with a smirk. His friends all laugh at the look of discomfort filling your face.

You hold on to the side of Niragi’s arm. You can feel him trembling. The wind was so cold under the tunnel, you wished you would have worn some leggings underneath your uniform.

Niragi pulls you closer to him, shielding the wind away from you.

“What should we do to this freak duo today, Hisashi?” You look Niragi in the eyes with a comforting look.

“It’s okay,” He whispers so they don’t hear him talking, “We will be okay. We graduate soon, anyway.” You had to stay strong in front of Niragi. He had been taking the brunt of this for years now. You couldn’t possibly break down after a couple of months.

Niragi turns toward you with a soft smile when he notices your apprehension. He was a man of few words but you could tell what he was saying with his eyes.

It will be okay.

You couldn’t believe he was standing in front of you. After your graduation, he gave you a kiss on the forehead and you haven’t seen him since. Some rumors went around that he died or that he moved to a far away land. But you couldn’t find him no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t realize how much you missed him.

But he was so different.

The aura around him was no longer the timid Niragi you knew. He was busting with confidence, piercings in his face and a gun on his shoulder. He was attractive before with his glasses that perched on his pretty nose but now, he was in a whole different ballpark of attractiveness.

“Is it really you, Y/N?” His face made you want to cry out. He had a look of shock but adoration crossed all of his features. The people all around you go silent in this exchange. 

You nod, tears springing to your eyes, “I’ve missed you so much.” 

The game registration ended in the middle of your grand reunion, cutting it too short. You never knew if you would survive or if he would during the games. You wished he would have shown up earlier so you could talk more.

He bites his lip, looking back at his friends before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Stick with me during this game, and afterward I will bring you to where I reside.” You nod your head wanting nothing more than to be by his side again. 

He was always so gentle with you. Years of being tormented at school and by girls, you were the first one to ever give him the time of day. You thought he was cute ever since you walked into class that one fateful day.

Niragi had extremely soft hands for a guy. You got reminded of that every time he gently touched your face or brushed your hair behind your ear. 

His smile was always so charming as well. He laughed at everything you said. Niragi was the perfect person to be around. 

He was so gentle.

He was so kind.

A bloody hand reaches out to grab your clean one. You look at Niragi’s face with horror. Blood was splattered all over his soft features. 

He killed someone for you.

He cleared the game for you.

“Ready to go, Y/N?” When you feel his soft skin against yours, it feels like old times when the blood on his face was his own, not some random girl he just killed.

“Yeah,” You nod, wanting this to be a bad dream, “Let’s go, Niragi.”

He was not gentle anymore.

He was not kind.

He was a murderer. 

[evertyun]

ENDLESS - ♯choi yeonjun

PAIRING : choi yeonjun x reader

GENRE : ANGST , slight fluff (?) like 0.5%

WARNING : this is a work of fiction anything mention about the character involve are PURELY MADE UP , emotion manipulation (?) , descriptive emotion , swearing , cheating

SYNOPSIS : "we're just friends" little did he know, y/n knows the truth.

OTHERS : include of other idols & oc, the story is not a long one shot its more of the main event skipping until the present time.

"you know i love you right?" yeonjun whispered while stroking your hair softly, cuddle up on the couch together.

you hummed in respond, deep down in your heart, you know he went to her place before he came over. breathing in the smell of her perfume that is painted all over him.

you know that even if you talk about it, yeonjun will keep emphasising they are 'just friends' constantly, you've been through this talk so often to the point that you have given up worrying about her existence. but instead coping with it yourself...

you love yeonjun so much that no matter what he does, even if it hurts you, you're willing to let it all go.

once again both of you are screaming at each other trying to see who is louder

"seriously beomgyu again?" yeonjun sounded pissed

"what about you constantly soojin, soojin, soojin, and that's all you know how to say, when we're together" you look back at him

"for fuck sake y/n, why can't you understand soojin is just a friend stop worrying about it" he shouted again, your heart clenches just holding in your tearz

"i didn't even say anything about your re— no never mind." you were about to retaliate the reply

"i just wanted more time with you" mumbled softly holding in your tears looking down not knowing if he heard your or not.

he stood there looking at you when his phone rang, he looked at the id caller and picked up, and you're just watching his every move

"oh hey whats up?" "i will be there asap" just two sentences only "im leaving" he lets you know and just take his hoodie and car key and left instantly not even checking up on you.

he really left...

"just fucking drop him" beomgyu said as he comfort you with your best friend yeeun

"you don't get it, i can't" the continuous sobbing from you as all of you walk along the pavement of han river park.

"you can do this y/n" yeeun whisper as she pat your back while you were still crying

what would you do without beomgyu and yeeun, constantly being there for you. the fact beomgyu and yeonjun are best friend as well...

"hey, y/n, i just want you to know if it ever gets too hard just know you are not alone" yeeun said while walking towards your apartment with beomgyu

"thank you..." was the last word for the night

some nights were different, but those some nights became a daily routine each day goes by you get more numb but each night you cry too...

he doesn't come by often anymore, maybe once a week but he do leave in less than an hour or two. you could tell from all the excuses he gives you it can go as far to made up lies such as "beomgyu asked me to fetch him home" "soobin forgot his keys" "taehyun left his gloves i need to bring"

"kai asked me to get him panadol he is having bad headache sorry i gotta go, love you babe" tonight was no different, he left so quickly.

but its amazing how he left his phone at your coach, you hold on to his phone debating to unlock it or not to. curiosity gets the best of you, you slide and key in the password he told you before.

'wrong password' he changed it

the phone vibrates the notifications pops up

soojin: i love you too

soojin: but i've reached dalkkom

soojin: im at the corner table see you <3

your heart clenches, so bad when you heard a knock. you walked towards and saw yeonjun as he let himself in and just retrieved his phone and gave you a peck on your forehead then he left.

the extra miles he goes for her, but never once for you, he cared for you once but not anymore. and yet the endless time you gave in

"babe i missed you so much i've been so busy with uni lately" yeonjun hugged you tightly, with his other friends watching the both of you. the look on beomgyu face was so unreadable as though he wanted to flip yeonjun over

"also i asked a friend to tag alone, after all y/n would be the only girl and i was afraid she would feel uneasy so i got one of my friend to tag along" yeonjun added as he let go of you

"yeeun is coming??" beomgyu said in sarcasm knowing too damn well soojin would show up instead

"it's probably soojin" you mumbled out

"what?? who now??" kai and taehyun said in unison

the way all his friends knew about the situation but none of them dare to confront yeonjun. they promise to never let girls come inbetween them and that was the reason

"sorry im late!" a female voice spoke, you turn to look at her

she is everything you are not. insecurity hits, her long silky black hair, her pretty orbs and well shaped lips.

then again,

if he is happy so are you...

soobin could tell you look upset, but what hurt the most was seeing both yeonjun and soojin having fun while you were there broken.

he never looked at you not even once that day, just glued onto her.

its clear enough that he has slipped away from you, its so clear but yet you refused to believe.

"i don't get why is he holding on to you if its clear he loves her?? just what the flying fuck??" yeeun said, its been nearly a year since this whole incident happen

its insane how you manage to hold on even though you clearly know that you are not the one and will never be the one.

the first time yeeun send you a picture of them together at the arcade holding hands. that picture was pure evidence he loved her. its so clear and so loud that you are just a second option.

months goes by you lose yourself, for constantly loving him even though he wouldn't return the affection to you. you were lovesick and tired, you took your friends word in to consideration.

it happens so often, he never showed up to your birthday, or even wished you. you're tired and numb so numb to go through it. he stop texting everyday with excuses that is so bad.

heartbreak . you want to be happy you realise your worth

[next paragraph might be a little too dramatic or to descriptive of insecurity and emotion]

today is the day... (present)

"lets break up" you let out, while both of you were cuddling up to each other

he look at you in the eye all he see was vulnerability, he let go of you without saying much. he know too damn well what he did, but never once did he regret until today in the very couch in your living room.

"wait why? babe, are you okay?" he asked looking at you with concern, you looked at the hickey on his neck that you know he tried to hide and back to his face return a smile to him

"i've hold up for so long, i can't do this anymore" you told him, deep down you just wanted to scream out 'just kidding' . because the look on his face look so genuine and broken as though he really did love you, but you don't want him to go through all the pain

choi yeonjun please get an oscar award. the way he reacts to you, not wanting to let you go. your heart aches so much. you got up from the couch and took your phone.

"please don't let me give in again, i took so much courage to finally let you go" you were holding back your tears, as you unlock your phone to the picture yeeun send you.

it wasn't just one picture but an album? some from beomgyu and some from his very own roommate soobin. the look on his face was clear that he couldn't use the "we're just friends" reason anymore.

"y/n... how long" was all he let out. the picture shown were as long as 5-6 months ago. all he wants to know, was how could you still love a cheater for that long

"it doesn't matter, it never did." you mumbled loud enough for him to hear

"i love you, y/n i feel so bad, please give me a chance, i will change i swear i can't bear to lose you." the guilt in his voice, but apologising was never on his mind

its driving you insane, by the way he could say i love you so easily.

"god yeonjun, i hate you so fucking much, all the i love you, you know too damn well i would give in, why are you doing this to me?" you let out along with you tears, he just look at you all empty

"y/n..."

the more you look at him the more you want to give in

"my love for you was endless and i thought it ended i guess it never did. maybe i am not feeling well tonight" you gave in, and you hated it so much.

guess you couldnt leave him after all

"y/n, just let me explain" he tried to reason out

"there's nothing to explain but... what does she have!?" you really went ahead to compare yourself to her "maybe her long silky hair, or her petite figure maybe her big round eyes, or even he beautiful lips, she has it all yeonjun you don't have to explain because if i were you, i do fall for her too.."

looking at the nearest scissor you grab it, yeonjun was in utter shocked he tries to grab the scissors before you but its was too late

"y/n please don't, we can jus-" before he was about to finish the sentence you cut your hair "look i don't have long silky hair anymore am i still pretty?" then you proceeded to scratch yourself and your face making sure it has some marks for you to regret tomorrow "oh no my face-"

"FOR FUCK SAKE Y/N STOP CAN WE JUST TALK!?" he finally shouted, you flinched and look back at him with built up emotions

"NO WE CANT I WILL GIVE IN, I WILL HATE MYSELF JUST... , I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH YEONJUN" you cried and scream out loud hoping her heard you loud enough maybe even your neighbour heard you out loud.

"y/n, im sorry" he walk towards you as he grab the scissors from your hand and he hugged you tight, its been so long since you felt this sincere feeling from him. and it hurts more than it felt good.

you pushed him away, and remove yourself from his embrace

"im going to sleep now, you can see yourself out" you left straight to your room. why just why you can never stop...

you looked up at the ceiling finally crying. cursing at yourself, he probably left to find soojin or even his friends for snitching on him. his move was so unpredictable too unexpected.

opening the door to your room he sat next to your bed. "y/n, it was a mistake i should never have taken you for granted im sorry. i love you i can't bare to lose you." pretending to be asleep not replying to whatever he says

he walked closer to you and gave a light peck on your forehead. you couldn't hold it in and tears fall, the guilt yeonjun felt was unbearable.

his phone buzz as he look down on to his phone and back to you, "i have to go and clean up the mess i've made" said looking at your "sleeping" figure

he stood up and right when he was about to leave, you grab his wrist instinctly

"the tightness in my chest, its so suffocating, but i love the feeling, because i know you're happy out there and having fun and that's what i want you to feel... to be happy, but if you really love me just let me go that's the least you could do"

he look at his wrist the one you are holding

"no y/n.." he really didn't want to let go his voice holds so much guilt,

"if its meant to be we will find our way back to each other again, i promise because i know i could never hate you even if you hurt me the most" you let go of his wrist finally.

he stood there looking at you for another minute or two and he finally left your room.

"maybe 1 more chance for change doesn't hurt at all"

even after all you have been through you still consider to put him above you.

a/n: i don't think it's my best but i will work on it, seems very rush but also sorry for spelling and english error as mention its not my first language;-;

[chiveburger]

hongseok has a whole live where he spends 30 minutes talking about his members... he goes in depth to talk about each member’s personalities and defining characteristics and this is what he says:

kino: when he first met kino, he couldn’t believe that someone like him could actually exist. he didn’t realize that someone could be so pure and innocent and good hearted, and kino wasn’t shy about caring for others eithers. not only did he do things secretly he’d be upright about being kind to others to the point that hongseok wondered if this was all an act. If kino was just faking it or maintaining his image that way. over time he realized that he really was like that all the time... he was nice to everyone, good to everyone and he had a personality that not everyone can emulate. as you age, hongseok realizes that it’s hard to be someone that is so altruistic and genuine. “Is he really a perfect human being or is he just faking this” were the two choices hongseok thought of when he first met kino

hui: hui is a really really good leader, and his job is a lot harder than it seems. for him to even take the lead requires a lot of responsibility and leadership, and he’s shown that time and time again. hui is someone who is tough when he needs to be tough, but he’s receptive and malleable too. he listens to everyone’s opinions and tries to incorporate all of what he hears, and tries to find a solution alone. just so that his other members don’t have to feel burdened by it. as an idol group those problems always arise, and hui tries to take care of it every time. 

yeoone: alike kino, he’s unbelievably nice. he’s not weak, but he’s very innocent and honest to the point that he almost feels like a blank piece of paper. he’s very good at keeping promises, but not in the way that’s just like... “oh I’ll meet you there on time, promise!” promises that are embedded in wanting to change or better himself. he puts in a lot of effort into keeping his word, and if he can’t he has asked hongseok for help. he’s open about his feelings and he tries to absorb and learn from others. he’s a person who knows how to take responsibility and blame too. yeoone was also the first person to greet hongseok when he first came into the company, he told him that he was a fan and tried to get close with him. he’s one of the first people who helped hongseok find comfort in being a trainee in cube.

shinwon: with shinwon, the more you get to know him, the more you’ll begin to like him. his first impression was very blunt and straightforward, and he is still like that today but everything shinwon says is truthful and sincere. shinwon doesn’t lie. he never lies, and if he does he doesn’t speak and he doesn’t answer questions. this was in regards to when he asked him about something to do with kino, and shinwon said he didn’t know. he kept on prying, and shinwon said “hyung, I know the answer but I don’t know if this is something I can tell you without kino’s permission. I can tell you but only if I ask kino first.” shinwon is very loyal that way. because his honesty is not sugarcoated, sometimes his words can hurt but there’s never any malicious intention behind them. he will properly express his opinion in hopes that it’s helpful. he’s also very sharp, and if he's not confident in any task he won’t accept or promise to do it. 

wooseok: in one word... he is cute. he is pure too. whenever he sees wooseok, he’ll start talking to him as if he’s a baby just out of habit. he knows that his personality is very sweet so he knows there’s never bad intentions behind his words. If wooseok is sad, sulky or upset they can tell right away. he can’t hide his feelings, so when he’s adamant about saying no even in a more serious tone they know that he’s not saying it to be hurtful or that he really means it. he’s saying it because he’s unhappy. what wooseok says and emotes is what he feels in his heart, and because he is like that hongseok (and most of pentagon) finds him very lovable.

yuto: yuto is a dedicated and gentle person. hongseok has never met a foreigner like him before, and he recalls moments during their trainee days where his heart would be aching for him. at night time when the lights had to be shut off, and the doors to their practice room had to close yuto would always stay late to practice his korean. he’d be biting on a pencil working on his pronunciation. to yuto, he just feels like he’s pulling his weight and doing his part. he’s responsible and selfless too. as a foreigner he’s already at a disadvantage but yuto never hides behind those excuses. he stays tenacious and meticulous, he puts in a lot of effort into everything he does... he doesn’t show off and he works silently but when push comes the shove he is always reliable. 

jinho: as their oldest, jinho is pentagon’s mental pillar. he is someone who tries to take an objective and neutral stance on everything, and he believes that it’s role to do so. he cares for each and every member, and knows their strengths and weaknesses too. with that he talks to everyone and tries to help them in reaching their highest potential by highlighting their strengths and making them aware of their lacking points. If the members disagree with some of the decisions hui makes, they try to ask jinho to relay their grievances to him but he’ll tell them that they have also have to look at it through hui’s perspective. for hui to make certain decisions he must have his reasons, and because of that, hui even as their leader also relies on jinho a lot.

yanan: there’s never a reason to dislike yanan. he is cute, diligent and confident. If yanan is criticized once, he’ll stay up all night fixing his mistake and when he says that he’s practiced the members know that he’s not lying. yanan is so pure that it’s almost like he’s filled with child-like wonder... he’s very keen, but there are times where his answer to their questions are so far-fetched that it seems right. before finalizing for title songs, hui sometimes goes to yanan to ask which one he’d like best and whichever one he chooses always becomes the song they promote.

hongseok says that for all these truly good people to have found each other and created this group is very rare. there isn’t one member’s personality that he doesn’t like, and if he was uncomfortable with them he wouldn’t be able to say any of this truthfully. all these different and great characteristics is what makes up pentagon 💗

[allyouneedisbuck]

Sole Survivor -> III

summary -> days nineteen through twenty-three; confessions, secrets, more immunity idols, and wavering trust.

words -> 5.0k

warnings -> survivor typical wording (immunity idol, idols, tribal council) cursing, mention of past steve x reader

notes -> we find out a little more about steve & reader, the beginning of the merge (i’m so excited!!!) & trust is crumbling.

series masterlist here

— ➶ —

PREVIOUS <- CHAPTER III • OUTLAST -> NEXT

— ➶ —

Day Nineteen

Bucky won’t talk to you.

You’re unsure if it’s because of what you had said or because he’s just giving you space, but the tension between you two is palpable.

And for some reason, you hate it.

You’re not used to this feeling of regret, especially within the game of Survivor. Your motto had always been there are no regrets in this game, you hold your head high and live with how you’ve played.

Only, Bucky had so quickly become your anchor in this game, just going one day without him by your side felt wrong. You couldn’t even pinpoint when it had happened. Was it the first vote, where he had shown you just how strategic he could be? The jokes in the water? The way his arms wrapped you in the storm? 

It had never felt like this with Steve. His arms had always been just a little too tight and things had always felt a bit too forced. You had always know Steve was a means to an end, you would get far and avoid being hurt. You had just assumed that would happen this time too, you hadn’t prepared for a Bucky Barnes. 

Bucky was more subtle touches and bright eyes. Bucky just felt right. You suppose that’s why you hate not talking to him, because he felt right. Because deep down you knew he wasn’t Steve, he wasn’t a means to an end, he was real in a sense. Someone you wanted around and didn’t want to see go. 

A laugh escapes you. One loud enough that it garners Bucky’s attention from his spot in the water. 

The two of you stare tentatively before he looks away. There’s a second where you debate staying where you are, but right now all you and Bucky had was each other and showing weakness to the rest of your tribe would lead them to strike at you again.

You swallow your pride and stand up with a purpose. You and Bucky would forgive each other and move on, there were no other options.

“Bucky.” You call out. His head whips around to look at you again. Surprise filters across his face as you wade through the water towards him. “Can we talk?” You ask about two feet away from him.

Bucky nods. “Of course.”

“Things got tense the other night.” You start hesitantly. You don’t really know where to start. You don’t want to take the entire blame to make him better, but you want him to know you truly did trust him. “We both got upset and I-“

“-I’m sorry.” Bucky cuts you off quickly. “I wasn’t trying to downplay your game, I’m just nervous. For both of us. If we don’t merge soon, I’m afraid it’s the two of us on the line.”

You smile up at him. “You gotta have more faith, Bucky. In both of us.” You emphasize softly. “We’ve made it this far without numbers, I’m sure we can do it again.”

A moment of silence before Bucky’s fingers intertwine with yours and he pulls you towards him. “I have faith in you.” He says softly. “I’ve just played a weak game, riding your coattails.”

“As long as you can admit it.” You smirk. Bucky snorts and pushes you away so you stumble into the water. You re-emerge with a spluttering laugh. “I was joking.” You push him back.

Bucky smiles with a shake of his head. “You and me, sweets?”

“You and me, Barnes. We work together, not just one or the other doing it all.” You smile up at him, your eyes squinting in the bright sun. “But if you’re mean to me again, I’ll send you packing.”

Bucky presses his tongue against his cheek, but you can see the smile he’s forcing back.

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe

“She’s stuck with me.” Bucky laughs. “I don’t… Til the end of the line, I hope.”

Day Twenty

“Bowling!” You cheer as your tribe walks up to the challenge, where two bowling lanes are set up next to one another. “I kill at bowling.”

Bucky laughs from behind you and he can see that even Natasha cracks a smile at your pure excitement. Some of the heroes, like Peter and Shuri, look excited at the prospect of bowling too.

“Heroes, getting your first look at the new villains tribe. Tony voted out at the last tribal council.” There’s a wave of murmurs as the heroes look at one another with wide eyes.

Everyone perks up when Jeff announces that todays reward is a feast. Bucky can feel his mouth watering at the idea of steak and vegetables cooked to perfection.

Even better, he can picture the clue wrapped in a napkin waiting to be found by a winning tribe member. “Hope you’re not lying, sweets. We could use a win.”

A bright smile is sent his way. “Promise, handsome.” It makes Bucky’s heart melt, the way you at him with sparkling eyes and upturned lips. He’s come to terms with the fact that he’s become a little infatuated with you.

Jeff goes through rules pretty quickly, considering it’s just basic bowling and Clint is up first against Thor.

“What do you think the heroes think?” Bucky whispers into your ear from behind you. He keeps a pointed eye on the heroes team, making sure they don’t see the two of you talking. He knows what you’ll say before you say it.

You know what Bucky’s doing too. He feels a surge of pride that the two of you work so well together. “That us girls are getting you boys out one by one. I promise they haven’t given up that theory.”

“You’re brilliant, sweets.” Bucky smirks to himself. Thor gets eight pins to Clint’s nine. The two of you cheer with the rest of your tribe before the next two take their places at the lane.

You lean back a little, your eyes still on the hero tribe as well and whisper, “Try to look pathetic. Like you know you’re time is coming. If we merge, they’ll try to recruit you and give us secrets.”

Shuri gets eight whereas Darcy gets nine pins. Bowling was the villains game, apparently. You cheer again, completely pulling away from Bucky. He immediately misses your warmth, but he knows too much associating and it could hint the heroes into what’s really going on.

You’re up next. You walk up to the lane with a bounce in your step, far more excited than Peter who looks nervously at the wooden bowling ball.

Bucky cheers when your wooden ball knocks down every single pin. “Strike!” Your voice rings out as Peter’s ball only knows down one pin.

When you return to your seat, Bucky squeezes both of your shoulders proudly. “Nice job, sweets.” He says quietly before standing up to take his own turn.

In the end, the villains win, sweeping the heroes in every round. It’s a moral boost, watching the heroes gather their things and take the walk of shame back to camp. The villains are led to a clearing in the jungle, where a small table filled with food is set up and a waterfall stands no more than thirty feet away.

“This is incredible.” You murmur in awe as you look around. Bucky watches you softly as you pull him towards the table by his wrist.

It’s almost natural, you pulling him. At least, it feels natural for him to follow you. It almost hurts how attached he finds himself to you, because he knows it’s all just a game to you.

This is what you do. Anything to win the game you love. Bucky’s not stupid, at least, he knows more than people think. He’s almost sure the people who watch at home will watch in disbelief as he falls into what everyone else tells him is a trap.

But when your hand finds his so naturally, your leg brushes against his thigh and you turn to smile at him brightly after the first bite of food, it doesn’t feel like a trap. It feels so real he almost forgets to breathe.

Maybe that’s why he’s been ignoring the piece of his mind that tells him the best thing to do would be to turn on your before the merge. Maybe you’d forgive him this early on. When the reunion if filmed, he could apologize and beg for a chance in the real world after you’ve had months to cool off.

It would be smart. Turn on you before you turn on him, but he won’t do it. He can’t. Not after you put your life in the game on the line and gave him the idol. He owed you and he couldn’t betray you. Bucky knew himself pretty well, the guilt would destroy his mind and in turn his game.

“Oh, Bucky.” You moan as you swallow down a bite of the steak on your plate. Bucky has the force himself to breath calmly and not allow his pupils to blow at the sound. “It’s so good. Eat!” You push your plate towards him and reach our for more food.

He takes a bite. “You’re right, sweets. This is delicious.” He moans around his second bite of steak. He’s sure even if the steak wasn’t cooked to perfection he would still find it delicious.

The two of you look at each other with smirks before letting out small laughs. Bucky reaches for the napkin wrapped to the right of his plate.

When he unfurls the white fabric, a rolled up piece of paper falls into his lap. He shoves it into the pocket of his shorts without a second glance, making sure nobody across the table had their eyes on him as he did so.

He turns to look at you, to see if you’ve caught what just happened, but you’re too busy eating the fest in front of you.

He’ll show you later. You’ll find it together.

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe

“This,” he holds up the small piece of paper with a victorious smile, careful to speak quiet enough nobody can overhear, “is our ticket to the merge. I just can’t believe my luck.”

Bucky is fidgety. It’s making you nervous as the two of you relax by the fire and listen to the crickets chirp and whispers among the rest of your tribe, which isn’t many anymore.

You can hear them vaguely. Natasha is asking Clint about his family, who seems to light up when he’s able to talk about them. Darcy sits with them, but she doesn’t say much besides a question here and there.

It’s relaxing, getting a break from talking about game play and plans. You feel like it’s been full speed ahead since day one and to just sit by the fire with Bucky in comfortable silence is something you didn’t know you needed.

You swallow thickly as you glance over at him. He’s twiddling his thumbs over his lap as he stares into the fire. The light casts an orange glow over his skin that makes your heart pick up a little bit.

“You okay?” You ask quietly. You lean towards him without really realizing it, but he doesn’t really seem to mind. “Your head is somewhere else.”

Bucky looks at you with a smile that makes you feel warmer than the fire. He knocks his knee against yours in support and gives you a reassuring look. “Nothing bad. I’ll tell you later.” He nods to the group near enough they could hear you if he spoke over a whisper.

You furrow your brows, but nod. “Tell me about home.” You urge quietly.

While you and Bucky had been working together for almost the entire game, you didn’t know much about his life. You knew what little things hr had mentioned on his first season, like what had happened to his arm and about his job.

“Like what?” There’s a handbook you get when you get chosen to be on the show, filled with rules you’re required to follow. One of the biggest ones being ignore the camera when you’re not giving a confessional.

It’s hard to pretend they’re not there. You know they keep people from admitting a lot about their personal lives. “Anything. Family. Work. Girlfriend.” You smirk when Bucky laughs.

“Promise I’m not out here disrespecting a girlfriend. I’m a good boy.” He looks at you with bright eyes. The words make you laugh loudly. “How about you?”

You shake your head. “No boyfriend at home.” You look down at the sand on your feet. “Guys are kind of intimidated of me. I know that’s shocking considering how mundane I come off.”

“The right guy won’t be intimidated by you. He’ll see how impressive you are.” Bucky states with an air of confidence.

The words make you smile. Something small and completely unlike you because it’s embarrassed instead of confident.

Bucky did something to you. Something you were so unused to. The way his smile made you warm and how butterflies fluttered in your stomach when he looked at you with those bright blue eyes. It was all unchartered territory, feelings you had never really let yourself have for someone. Especially someone you had planned on betraying when you needed to.

“The right guy, huh?” You ask quietly. Your heart racing and heat on the back of your neck. “Let me know when you find him.”

You and Bucky watch one another before you both look away. It’s a crafted choice of words, one that seems to make things settle gloomily between you two. “How about family? I remember you mentioning some sisters.”

Bucky nods. “A little sister. Her name is Rebecca.” He lets out a laugh. “She told me I wouldn’t last longer than a week out here. I remember seeing her on family day, I never thought I would miss talking to her as much as I had.”

The admittance makes you smile. You can vaguely remember the tight hug shown on screen when his sister had come running out. “She believe in you more this time?”

“I sure hope so.” Bucky laughs. “I like to think that they’re proud of me, my sister and mom. That they’re not too humiliated by me out here.”

Your hand finds his in the sand. “I think they are proud. I’ve seen a lot of guys on this show, none of them quite as good as you.”

It’s the truth. Whether or not fans labeled Bucky as a villain, he had been good the entire game. He hadn't turned against you and with only one small fight in your wings, he had been good to you.

"I'm sure Steve Rogers fans would disagree. Nobody gets sweeter than that." He gives you a self-depricating smile and his words let on more than he may think.

You shake your head. “Steve is sweet. As sweet as they come, maybe. Doesn’t mean he’s good though.” You swallow thickly and look down at your feet. “It looks like I ruined his game, like I took that million dollars from him.”

“It does.” Bucky agrees easily. You shrug. “Is that not what happened?”

You almost glance up at the camera man sitting a few feet away, but keep your eyes steady on the fire. “I will never deny that I screwed Steve over. I just… Steve had just as much to do with what went down before he got sent home as I did.”

Bucky nods slowly. “And you wanted to turn on him before he turned on you?”

Your eyes flash to his in surprise. You can’t really believe he understands that, not when so many people saw you as the villain who ruined Steve’s game. “Yeah.”

There’s a pause where neither of you say anything before you speak up again. “I cared for Steve. Maybe I played into the romantic bit too much, but I cared for him as a friend.” You say adamantly. “And I’m sad to have lost that friendship, but we both wanted that money and we both were going to do anything to get it whether he wanted to admit it or not.”

You look at Bucky with fierce eyes. “I made the move first because I knew if I didn’t that I would never make final council.”

The admission makes you feel a little lighter, but you can see the weariness in Bucky’s eyes. It’s like he has the thought of well if she did it to him…

“I guess there’s a lot that viewers miss out on.” Bucky finally says. “You and Steve haven’t spoken since?”

“No.” You shake your head. “We avoided each other at the reunion and after that there was no need to. I know how it looks and I don’t regret what I did. Not for one second.”

You know the words seem harsh. That they’ll only fuel the villain ideal behind your name. The words may even turn Bucky against you, show him that you’re here for you and nobody else.

His silence worries you too. Your mind swirling with thoughts of him betraying you or this being his deal breaker.

You take a breath. “I don’t feel that way about you.” The secret pushes itself past your lips and into the tense silence. “I truly hope we can make it to end together.”

“When did you get soft?” Bucky chuckles awkwardly and your chest tightens. The words aren’t reassurance you had hoped for and you seem to have worried Bucky more than reassure him.

You force out a laugh. “Soft? Don’t ever say that again.” You nudge him with your shoulder before moving to stand.

Bucky looks like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute. You try not to think about it too much.

You - Villain Tribe

“I was hoping talking about Steve would get him to trust me more, but it looks like he’s even more guarded now.” You rest your chin on your bent knees. “I’ll just have to be prepared for the worst.”

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe

“I want to tell her about the idol, but I need to start looking out for myself. I truly don’t think she’ll turn on me, but I just can’t gamble away my faith in the game like that.” He looks away, his profile illuminated by the moon. “I can’t.”

Day Twenty-One

The merge is around the corner. There’s no doubt about that as the competition enters it’s third week and there’s only eight remaining players.

It will be a battle of who has more people going into it, at least that’s what both tribes are thinking now since neither of them truly know who may flip if given the opportunity.

“Tree mail!” Natasha’s voice wakes you up a little more as you turn to look at her and Clint returning and the rolled up piece of paper in her hand. “Think it’s the merge?”

You shrug. “Let’s find out.” She unrolls the paper and frowns. Not the merge, you think a little disappointedly. You weren’t sure if you and Bucky could make it one more elimination if it came to it.

“Castaway, rate your tribe members from weakest to strongest as a group. Bring your rankings with you to today’s challenge where the rest will be explained.” Natasha reads aloud to the camp.

You all exchange glances, utterly confused by the instructions and unwilling to voice who is the weakest first.

“I think we’re all pretty strong.” Darcy says quietly. “I mean, we all have our strong suits. Does it say physically weak or socially? Mentally? How are we supposed to rank?” She sounds more agitated by the second.

You know it’s nerve wracking. Not knowing exactly what these rankings mean is horrible. Your entire tribe is left to fight it out over who is the strongest and weakest and they don’t even know the prize.

Will the weakest be sent home? The strongest pitted against the hero’s strongest in a fight for reward? Not knowing anything put a stunt in your tribe’s ability to figure this out.

“Let’s just vote for physicality.” Natasha says evenly. “Majority wins. That way it’s simple and we can prepare for the challenge. These are probably just for pairs in today’s challenge.”

Everyone agrees easily and Natasha decides to start with the strongest vote. “They’ll probably vote Steve or Thor the strongest. I say we make Bucky our one and Nat or I our two.” You declare.

Everyone glances at each other before nodding. “Okay so, all in favor for me as number two?” You ask and Bucky, you and Natasha raise their hands.

At you confused look Natasha smirks. “I don’t want to go against Steve or Thor if that’s what these rankings are for.”

The words make you all laugh and some tension is obviously lifted from everyone’s shoulders. “All in favor of Clint third?” Nat cuts in before you can say anything else.

The rest of you raise your hand in agreement. You can tell nobody wants to argue much about this and create an awkward environment at the actual challenge. “Then Nat, then Darcy.” Clint marks it on the paper before anybody votes, but nobody argues it.

Darcy Lewis - Villain Tribe

“I got named our weakest player and I guess I saw it coming. Two and two against one, I was never going to be voted the strongest. I just feel like I’m being severely underestimated by them all. Somehow I’m the odd one out when the plan for the last few tribals has been Bucky or Y/N.” She shakes her head in disbelief.

Steve Rogers - Hero Tribe

“I can’t wait to see how they did this. What they assumed. Heroes just have no idea if our rankings will help us or hurt us. It’s stressful.”

Bucky can’t contain his smile when he sees which challenge is set up behind Jeff. The walls, all different colors, have foot mounts attached to them that get smaller and smaller.

Bucky knows this challenge. Bucky has won this challenge. He turns his head to look at you and he knows you’re thinking the same thing he is.

The villains have this one in the bag. Bucky knows it, especially when Jeff explains that each competitor will go against their equal rank from the opposite tribe.

It’s obvious that being lighter will help more than brute strength especially as the foot mounts get smaller and smaller.

Bucky can’t help but smile as everybody takes the first steps towards the wall. The match ups seem to have worked in the villain’s favor today.

Bucky takes his place on the other side of Thor, who struggles almost immediately. While Bucky would definitely have a hard time, he knee this challenge and he was lighter than Thor.

You were matched up against Steve, who seemed less than thrilled when he realized how much lighter you were compared to him.

“You’ll stand on the first mount for ten minutes.” Jeff explains as everyone settles in. “This is for immunity. Now more than ever your tribes need this.”

Bucky knows that Jeff is right. This far in the game it becomes a battle of which tribe has more going into the merge. It didn’t matter if people thought they would flip or if there were other deserters. All that mattered was who appeared stronger going in probably got to decide who went home.

The villains needed the numbers going in. Bucky was sure that wanting to get rid of strong heroes would be the only thing that protected him post merge.

Thor slips off before they even make it to the second mount. “Villains gain a point, Bucky you can step down.” Jeff orders as Thor stumbles to the small table set up for them to wait at.

“That was tough.” Thor grumbles as he rubs at his bare feet. “Not my thing.” He smiles politely as Bucky sits beside him.

Bucky laughs silently as he turns his attention to the challenge. Nobody else seems to be struggling on their mounts, showing the game will continue on far longer than Bucky and Thor had.

Thor Odinson - Hero Tribe

“I’m embarrassed. They ranked me the strongest of our tribe and I lose first? It’s just humiliating, there’s no momentum for our team.”

Your feet are aching by the half hour mark. Jeff has moved you all to final mount to stand on until the last person falls off, meaning you could be here for hours.

You’re jealous of Bucky, who’s relaxing on the sidelines with Thor, Wanda and Darcy. Darcy had fallen after moving to the second mount, leaving both tribes tied with one point.

You can hear Steve groaning to himself. You assume he’s adjusting his stance and trying to hold on and you’re considerably impressed. Steve has stayed up much longer than you thought he would, longer than he had when you had played a version of this challenge on your season.

“You can come down, Steve!” You call out with a teasing laugh. “Nobody will judge you. I could do this all day.”

It’s silent for a moment, as everyone waits for Steve to respond. The two of you hadn’t interacted at all throughout the entire twenty-one days and there had been no reason to do so.

“I’m not losing to you.” Steve says in a cold tone. You could only imagine the cold blue eyes that matched and his steeled face.

You bite down on your lip to conceal a smile. The retort on the tip of your tongue. Something along the lines of you’ve lost to me before. You settle on a shrug he can’t see and call back, “We’ll see!”

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe

“She looks good up there. She’s not breaking a sweat. Everyone else has shaking legs and can’t hold still and it looks like she could do this all day. Steve can’t even see how good she looks, no way he wins this.”

It’s another close game, one that comes down to you and Steve battling it out for the last point.

You look great up there, and Bucky thinks it in the least flirtatious way possible. You always look great, but you haven’t broken a sweat in this challenge.

It’s obvious Steve’s muscle mass and height is working against him in this game, so Bucky’s impressed by him, just not as impressed as he is with you. You lean your shoulder against the wall in the most casual way possible and you make sure to not adjust your feet to often. All while Steve struggles to stay still. It’s clear from his flexing and pained groans that his feet are cramping and he can’t find a comfortable position at all.

Bucky’s not worried. While the rest of his tribe watches with bated breaths and the hero tribe chews on their nails, Bucky is relaxed.

It’s like it happens in slow motion too. Bucky watches with a small smile as Steve moves to adjust his grip just a little too quickly and his foot slides off the mount.

“Villains win immunity!” Jeff calls out as you step down from your mount. Your eyes find Steve, who’s laying with his back on the sand and eyes closed. The two of you watch each other for a brief moment before you smile at him.

“Good effort.” The words are genuine. “You did really well.” You hold out a hand for Steve to take and help him to his feet again.

Bucky watches the scene with interest. He knows it’s good sportsmanship, a friendly gesture and it’s one that may help you in the long run of the game. If Steve moves on from his resentment, he’s a number.

But Bucky knows he would be a number for you.

You - Villain Tribe

“My feet are killing me. My arms are dead. I’m exhausted, but this win is one of the best yet. I earned us this win. I beat one of their strongest players. And I’m safe for another tribal.”

Steve Rogers - Hero Tribe

“Now that we know what it’s like to win, losing is so much worse. That feeling of being so close and losing by an inch? I just can’t stand it. We’re better than them, I’m better than them.” He purses his lips and his blue eyes are filled with rage. “We can’t lose anymore people, not with a merge so close. They’ll knock us out one by one by one.”

Day Twenty-Three

“Buck.”

There’s a crate sitting in front of where your tree mail is normally put. You can’t contain your smile when you see the note attached to the lid. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Bucky smiles as you pull the paper off of the crate. “Expect some visitors today to unlock this crate and the clue inside.” You look down to inspect the crate and notice a padlocked strapped to it.

“We made it.” Bucky says quietly. “The merge. We’re so close to the end, sweets.” Bucky’s arms wrap around you and you giggle as he lifts you into a hug, you legs wrapping around his waist with ease.

“Nobody can say we haven’t played a good game.” Your hands tangle in his hair. It’s gotten longer in the twenty-something days you’ve gone. “You and I. To the end, right?” You ask again.

Bucky smiles up at you as his hands tighten around your hips. “To the end.”

There’s a moment, where the two of you just look at one another, where you want to kiss him. Then you think it’s not just a moment, it’s just you realizing that you’ve wanted to do it all along.

“We should bring it to camp.” You clear your throat and Bucky hastily drops you back to your feet.

You look up at him again. Your cheeks are warm with nervousness and another feeling you’re unused to. This feeling of adoration. The care you have for Bucky is unlike anything you’ve felt before.

You want to kiss him. You want to know what it feels like to have him in your arms and be in his with your lips pressed against his. You wonder what his stubble will feel like and if he’ll rest a hand at the back of your neck.

“We should.” Bucky agrees easily. He meets your eyes and the two of you share a look.

You wonder if he’s thinking the same about you.

Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe

“Everyday I don’t tell her about my idol, I feel worse and worse. Especially as we become better friends. I just… I’m paranoid. I’m scared. I need this safety net.”

— ➶ —

notes -> hi! i cut this part into two because this felt like a strong place to finish the chapter (and i was already at 5k words) hopefully you’re not too upset having to wait for more of the merge.

thank u for reading this au if you are! i’m having so much fun writing about one of my favorite reality shows.

[hot-wiings]

The One Where Izuku Follows Katsuki's 'Advice' Only To Be Intercepted By A Girl.

Edited: 4-21-2021

'Sorry kid, it's not gonna happen.'

For as long as Izuku could remember he had wanted to be a hero. The same old video of All Might he had watched a million times filled him with such an unspeakable feeling. Filled him with hope, and happiness. A hope and happiness he wanted to share with others. An inspiration he wanted to give other people.

Even at the ripe age of four, Izuku didn't let the doctor's words deter him. Even though he was told he was quirkless, even though he knew he would not have the same advantage as others on the hero field, Izuku wanted to achieve his dream. He wanted to achieve his dream, to grasp it, to live it, and make it his reality. Even though Izuku should've given up right then and there in the doctor's office, he persisted, he smiled.

'You know if you really wanna be a hero that badly, there actually might be another way. Just pray that you'll be born with a quirk in your next life, and take a swan dive off the roof of the building.'

Izuku tried to manage his dream. Even up until the age of fourteen, he was attempting to achieve those plans he made at four years old. Holding the hero notebook in his hands, the wet notebook that contained all of his notes on the heroes he'd taken an interest in since he was diagnosed, Katsuki's words ring through his head.

How could he say that? Izuku knows he's right. He's right, Kacchan is always right. But Izuku can't give up that hope in his chest. He can't give up these dreams he's been having. He can't let go of those substantial visions. He needs to have it, he needs to grasp it for himself. He can't just turn tail now, he needs to train, he needs to apply to UA and achieve. Izuku did not give up hope in the doctor's office, and he was not going to give up hope by the coy pond, instead, he smiled like a hero. He smiled and made his way home.

'This job isn't easy, pro-heroes are always having to risk their lives. Some villains just can't be beaten without powers, so no, I honestly don't think you can become a hero without a quirk.'

He persisted. He smiled. He tried to achieve his dream. He tried to achieve it, he tried to put on that smile and fake it when he felt like he couldn't, but the reality was staring him down in the face.

Izuku hadn't imagined he'd be captured by a villain, a sludge villain. Of all the criminals in the area, it had to be a low B ranked villain. Out of all the B-ranked villains, Izuku never imagined All Might, the world's greatest hero, his hero, would've shown up to save him. He also never imagined that he would have discovered All Might's real identity. He couldn't help but ask him that question, the question of whether someone quirkless like himself, could become a hero like him.

He wanted a different answer. He wanted to be reassured by his idol. He wanted to be told that it was manageable, that he could have a future in heroism if he worked hard enough. His ears rang as All Might's words came out. Even as he left, leaving Izuku on the rooftop alone, his ears were ringing. He stood there for a while, tears dribbling down his cheeks. If the world's greatest hero didn't think he could do it then why should he? If the symbol of hope and peace didn't believe in him, why should he? Kacchan was right, he was a failure. He was pathetic and defenseless. He should just take a swan dive off the building.

Izuku couldn't believe the words running through his head, but he couldn't stop them once they began rolling. He was pathetic, he was a failure. How humiliated his mother must've felt having to have such a failure as a son. People talked, the woman in his neighborhood talked. Often, Izuku could hear the old woman bragging about the children, and he knew he would never be bragged about. The more he thought about it, the more Izuku felt drawn to the ledge.

Izuku was broken out of his dark reverie and thoughts as a young woman bursts through the door, and not even seeing or noticing Izuku's presence, runs straight for the ledge. She couldn't have been any older than him, and she had tears running down her cheeks. As she slipped her shoes off and began to discard her sweater Izuku was quick to jump into action. Without even thinking his legs started moving after her.

"Hey, don't do it! Please..."

By the time Izuku had reached the girl, she was barefoot up on the ledge, hair blowing wildly in the wind. Izuku smiled up at her, the kind of smile All Might gave, the smile he'd been trying to imitate for years. Tears slid down the girl's cheeks as she turned around and stared at him with what Izuku could only describe as empty.

"It's okay, just come down."

Izuku tried his best to coax you down without scaring or startling you. You stumbled a bit but quickly caught your balance as Izuku took slow, careful steps closer to the edge.

"This has nothing to do with you, why do you care?!"

"Because- Because that's not what a hero would do! I can't just sit idly by and let someone throw their life away like that. Just come down, you don't wanna do this."

"I can't! You don't know me, you don't understand-"

"Then explain it to me. Make me understand, just don't do this."

More tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked down at the roads below the building. You should just jump, every cell in your body urged you to jump but looking down at the boy stopped you. Hearing him yell with such pleading, seeing him smile so indignantly, prevented you from moving. The least you could do was hear him out first, he was taking the time to coax you out of a decision you couldn't deter yourself from.

"I'm a failure. I'm a pathetic failure. I'm quirkless, and I know that's a stupid reason to jump... But being a hero runs in my family, and if I can't be a hero I have nothing. Everyone at school ridicules me, and while she says otherwise, I know my mom resents me for not continuing the legacy."

"Don't worry about what other people think, hold your head high and plunge forward."

"That's not enough. I'm such a failure, I'm a waste."

You take a small step backward, almost ready to jump down and catapult yourself to your death but Izuku screams out again preventing you.

"Stop! Wait! Sometimes I do feel like I'm a failure like there's no hope for me. I'm quirkless too, and my hero told me I can't become a hero, but even so, I'm not gonna give up. Ever!"  

You halt your tracks at Izuku's words, turning around again to look at him. He was quirkless, yet he dreamed of being a hero. He was told by his hero he couldn't be one, yet he was persisting.

"You really think you can be a hero?"

You're about to turn tail. You're about to step down, off, and away from the ledge when your foot slips. Just the slightest shift made you begin to fall. You scream, expecting to fall off the building, but instead, Izuku jumps up the ledge. He stumbles a bit but wraps his arms around you, and flings his body towards the building. By the time you're processing what happened, you're pulled off the ledge and collapsing in the arms of the boy on the ground.

"Why did you do that?! You could've fallen down!"

"Because I think I can be a hero, and I think you can be one too."

Although that day you thought Izuku saved you, you had actually saved him from jumping himself, something he wouldn't tell you until he built up the courage to ask you out after you both graduated from UA.

[1-800-hyunlix]

dance to this — hhj

crush culture ♡ part thirty five

⇢ pairing: non-idol! hyunjin x fem! reader

⇢ word count: 4.4k

⇢ warnings: cussing, some underaged drinking, it’s literally a high school party so, can y/n and hyunjin get their shit together already?

⇢ listen while you read: dance to this - troye sivan

⇢ a/n: happy (kinda late) valentine’s day! i haven’t updated in forever but i’ve spent so much time trying to finish writing the remaining chapters for this series. i hate to say it but this story’s coming to an end and FAST. also i’m so sorry, i meant to post this yesterday but here we are 🙄 anyways, enjoy <3

Thanks to you, the snack table looked great and Jisung was very pleased, to say the least.

Everyone had already shown up to the party. Changbin and Minho stood in the corner talking with Minghao and his friend Seokmin. Yuna, Jeongin, Seungmin and Felix had gone outside after complaining about how hot and crowded the house was. And Jisung. Well Jisung was hungry.

“Hey,” you said over the noise. “Jisung.”

He hummed and looked up, grabbing another chip from the bowl.

“When’s Hyunjin gonna get here?” The party had only started an hour ago but even though almost all of your friends had arrived, he still hadn’t shown. Part of you was wishing it would stay that way. You had been trying your best to avoid him ever since you found out about cupid’s kiss. It would be much easier to do that if he just decided to not come at all.

“Hyunjin offered to pick up Chan and Chaeyeon after their dates,” He answered, plucking his phone from out of his back pocket. “They should be getting here soon.”

well shit.

“Y/n!” A voice yelled from behind you. Spinning on your heels, you were met with Mingyu walking towards you holding a cup in his hand. “Having fun?”

“You could say that.” you shrugged. Parties never really excited you. They always seemed so repetitive. People making out in bedrooms, kids too young to be drinking getting wasted anyway, and lots of unnecessary socializing. But you’d always go anyway. It’d take a couple drinks, but eventually you’d start having fun.

“I thought your boyfriend was coming.”

Your eyes widened and you spun around to make sure Jisung hadn’t heard Mingyu’s bold comment and sighed in relief when you realized he wasn’t standing behind you anymore. Instead he was clinging onto Minho’s side as they grabbed drinks from the kitchen.

“He’s not my boyfriend and I thought we agreed to stop talking about it.”

“He’s not your boyfriend yet.” he smirked, leaning against the table and taking a sip of whatever was in his red solo cup.

“I just told him about Cupid’s Kiss,” you lied again. “not that I liked him.”

Mingyu sighed but nodded his head nonetheless. “Which is a step in the right direction!”

Rolling your eyes, you began walking away from Mingyu and towards the kitchen. “Happy Valentine’s Day by the way!” He yelled from behind you. You shook your head and continued to maneuver through people, muttering small “excuse me’s'' as you passed.

Crowds were another thing you hated about parties. Squeezing through the groups of kids who were either too drunk or obnoxious to move out of the way.

The kitchen counter was covered with a variety of drinks, some of which you weren’t even sure how Mingyu acquired. You grabbed a cup and filled it halfway with the punch you watched Mingyu and Minghao mix earlier. Instantly bringing the cup up to your lips, you winced when the liquid hit the back of your throat.

It wasn’t your favorite taste but if you were planning on having at least some fun at the party, you’d need all the drinks you could get.

Now you stood outside with Ryujin, Seungmin, Jeongin and Yuna listening while they talked about the Valentine’s dance and how mad they were gonna be if it was “as bad as last year’s dance.” You wouldn't know, you didn’t go.

“Look who’s finally here.” Ryujin nudged your shoulder and pointed towards the back door of the house.

Hyunjin and Chan walked out, greeting people as they made their way over towards your group. They were so casual about all the attention they received from everyone else, like they were used to having all the kids at school drool over them.

It’s not like you haven’t noticed it before. Especially when it came to Hyunjin. The minute he moved to your school, he became everyone’s new obsession. It just hadn’t bothered you until now, rolling your eyes as a group of girls standing next to you had completely forgotten about their conversation and instead, were far more interested in staring at Hyunjin.

You found yourself staring at him too. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t instantly catch your eye the moment he walked through the door. He looked good all the time and Valentine’s night was no exception.

“Finally you guys decide to show up!” Jeongin groaned, sarcastically throwing his head back. Chan laughed and patted him on his back.

“Sorry,” he said, “Hyunjin picked us up right after his date. It took longer than expected.”

Hyunjin nodded in agreement and glanced over to you, shooting you a sweet smile. You returned it and quickly averted your eyes.

“Date” you laughed in your head. They lied right in front of your face and had absolutely no idea that you knew.

“Speaking of Hyunjin’s date,” Seungmin spoke, “where’s Yuri? She didn’t wanna come?”

You watched intently as Hyunjin and Chan looked at each other as if they were trying to come up with something to say. You have no idea how you didn’t catch onto their lies sooner. They were being so obvious.

“Yeah, she doesn’t like parties.” Hyunjin answered.

Taking a drink from your cup, you sighed. The rest of the group was engaged in an interesting conversation about who they believed would get drunk first. Chan bet on Felix but the freckled boy protested and said it was definitely going to be Jisung. You hadn’t said anything but giggled as Jisung and Felix playfully bickered back and forth.

Upon hearing your laugh, Hyunjin glanced back at you. His eyes traveled down your body, not so subtly checking you out. He’d never seen you “dressed up” like this before other than the time you tried on that dress at the mall. You looked different but a good different. He noted how you styled your hair differently than you usually would and how the shoes you were wearing made you almost as tall as him.

Feeling eyes on you, you turned towards Hyunjin and caught him red handed. He nervously shifted on his feet and smiled at you. “I like the outfit,” He started, “You look really pretty tonight.”

As if on cue, you felt heat rise up to your cheeks.

You struggled to say something back, afraid that the minute you opened your mouth, you’d turn into a stuttering mess right in front of him. Hurry up, the little voice inside your head demanded. Speak idiot.

“Oh uhm thanks, you too,” you began, instantly regretting it. “I mean not pretty, you don’t look pretty but you look nice and...shit that came out wrong.”

Amused by the embarrassment you were inflicting on yourself, Hyunjin laughed, his tongue pushing on the inside of his cheek; a habit of his that you picked up on. He liked to do it whenever he was about to tease you or say something totally sarcastic. “Sorry, I don't think I heard over the music. Did you say I look pretty?”

You rolled your eyes, letting out a small chuckle. “You know what I meant, Hwang.”

Jeez y/n, you’re pathetic. What happened to avoiding him?

You wanted to stick to your original plan; have fun and make it through the party all while avoiding Hyunjin in the process. But you could tell it wouldn’t be that easy.

Glancing towards Hyunjin again, you watched as he laughed at a video of Jisung doing something dumb that Felix recorded on his phone. His laugh was so contagious and despite how you hadn’t even seen the video, you giggled too.

This is what you meant when you said he made it hard for you. Every little thing he did, you adored. He was practically living rent free in your head and as much as you wanted him out, he refused to leave.

Deciding that you would just drown your problems with the punch in your cup, you held it to your mouth to drink only to groan when it was empty. “Hey Hyunjin,” you tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m gonna get a refill, you wanna come with?”

Seriously Y/n, you suck at this.

He nodded almost eagerly and followed you into the house.

“I promise you it’s not bad! Just try it!”

You were standing in the corner of the kitchen trying to convince Hyunjin to try the punch that you had been indulging yourself in all night. Seeing as he didn’t know the contents of the drink and you were practically already buzzed, he was unsure if drinking the punch would do him any good.

“Fine but only one cup!” He gave in and you threw your arms up in satisfaction. Almost hesitantly, he took a drink and your eyes lingered to his hands. The way the silver rings on his fingers shone under the light and how they gripped the cup. Then down to his striped shirt he left unbuttoned more than likely on purpose. His beauty was effortless and sometimes you got jealous of how he could simply look so good without trying.

Looking up from his cup, his eyes met yours and you quickly turned away. The corner of his lips lifted up in a smirk as you clearly had no idea that he was aware of your staring the whole time. It’s not like you were discreet about it.

“How many of these have you had?”

You glanced at the cup in your hands and shrugged. “Maybe like four?”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow and nodded his head. How you were drinking this, he had no idea. It wasn’t at all good to him. “How was your date? With Mingyu?”

You didn’t want to talk about Mingyu, nervous that Hyunjin would ask too many questions and you’d accidentally let something slip.

If you were being completely honest, you only showed up early to the party to make it look like you and Mingyu hung out for Valentine’s Day. You wouldn’t really call filling up chip bowls and watching Minghao and Mingyu argue over where to put the sound system a date.

“Oh it was good!” You answered almost too fast. “Yeah it was fun.”

Hyunjin nodded his head and weakly smiled. You almost winced at the awkward tension that sat in the air and you took another drink, humming in satisfaction. It was definitely doing its job.

The next song began and immediately recognizing it, you gasped and removed the cup from your lips. “This song is so good,” without thinking, you grabbed onto Hyunjin’s wrist. “let’s dance.”

He obliged as you dragged him through the crowd and into the living room where teens jumped around with one another.

Smiling as you made it into the middle of the dance pit, you found the beat and slowly began swaying your body to the rythmn. Hyunjin grinned, raising his eyebrow in amusement.

Still having a grip on his wrist, you intertwined your fingers and yelled over the music. “C’mon Hyunjin,” you smirked. “Dance with me.”

He chuckled and shook his head but seconds later found himself matching your movements.

Nodding as he danced along with you, you closed your eyes in bliss. He watched this with admiration. He had never seen you so care free before. You usually always seemed so shy and nervous when you danced in front of him but tonight you were practically all over him.

You enjoyed it; the way your bodies nearly pushed up against each other due to the lack of space in the room and the way the music blared through your ears, blocking out all other noise within distance.

This isn’t part of the plan, Y/n. Quit dancing and get your shit together! spoke the same voice in your head that you’d been unintentionally ignoring all night long. It was like a little angel on your shoulder telling you to let go of Hyunjin’s hand and walk away before you got yourself into another situation that you couldn’t get out of.

But on the opposite shoulder, sat a little devil who disagreed with the angel and insisted that you stayed on the dance floor. Don’t listen to them! You wanted to do this all night! Get over yourself, y/n!

Quite frankly, you didn’t know who to listen to.

You looked back up to meet his eyes and gulped once you found Hyunjin was already staring at you. He searched your face, looking for any sign that you felt the same way he did. He removed his hand from yours and instead placed it on your waist, bringing you closer to him. Your breath hitched as his hand snaked around to the small of your back, his rings cold on your skin.

Growing nervous, you shifted on your feet and gently placed your free hand on his chest. “I’m sorry,” you muttered and he knitted his brows in confusion. “I need some air.” You gently pushed away from him and began walking, his hand loosely trailing across your back as you left.

Hyunjin turned and watched as you quickly maneuvered through people and to the back door. He sighed and took a swig from his drink before leaving the center of the room to stand against a wall, distancing himself from the dancing crowd.

You confused him and how you felt was still a mystery to him. One minute, you were dancing with him and blushing whenever he complimented you. The next, you were ignoring him and getting nervous whenever he showed the slightest bit of affection. Maybe he’d been reading you all wrong. Maybe you hadn’t felt the same way about him and he’d been getting his hopes up just to be disappointed in the end.

He had stood by the wall for a while by himself, taking drinks from his cup every so often. He was too deep in thought to even notice Mingyu approaching.

“Hyunjin!”

Turning his head to the left, he frowned. Him and Mingyu had never really had a serious conversation before. Most of their “talking” was just done in class when they’d give each other the answers. “Hey Mingyu.”

“I’m glad you could make it.” Mingyu smiled, standing beside him with his arms crossed.

Hyunjin smiled back, unsure of how to respond. “Yeah, thanks for inviting us.”

“I saw you and Y/n out there,” Mingyu started, taking a drink from his cup. Hyunjin nervously eyed him. When he was dancing with you, he had totally forgotten about Mingyu and how he might’ve reacted when he saw his date all over someone else. “I’m glad everything got fixed.”

Hyunjin thought for a moment before realizing he had no idea what Mingyu was talking about. “Sorry,” he said. “What?”

“Y’know, everything. Cupid’s Kiss and all.” Mingyu laughed. Confusion was evident on Hyunjin’s face and it quickly became clear to Mingyu what was going on. “Y/n didn’t tell you, did she?”

“No?” Hyunjin said, more like a question rather than an answer.

Mingyu sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course you hadn’t told him. It was you he was talking about, someone who avoided confrontation at all costs. “There was a mix up with the Cupid’s Kiss results. Y/n and I weren’t supposed to get each other after all.”

Hyunjin nodded slowly, looking down at the floor as he listened.

“I was supposed to be with Haseul,” Mingyu swallowed before hesitantly continuing. “Y/n was supposed to be with you.”

Hyunjin’s head whipped up, his eyes widening in shock. He observed Mingyu, trying to figure out whether or not this was just some drunk joke he decided to play just to spite him. But no, Mingyu looked dead serious. “Y/n knew?”

“Yep,” Mingyu hummed, “I found out about it a couple days ago and texted her right away. She said she’d tell you but clearly…” he trailed off and narrowed his eyes at Hyunjin.

A million things were running through Hyunjin’s head but all he wanted to do was find you. “I gotta look for Y/n. Thanks for telling me, Mingyu.”

Mingyu gave him a sympathetic smile and muttered a “No problem” before Hyunjin took off towards the backyard.

It was messed up. This whole time he felt horrible because he had gotten you for Cupid’s Kiss while you had gotten Mingyu when in reality, you were supposed to get each other. It wasn’t fair. He could’ve had you from the beginning.

Why you hadn’t told him about it as soon as you found out also shocked him. What were you gaining from keeping it hidden?

Hyunjin reached the back door and looked around the crowded yard, finally spotting you. You stood off to the side, talking with Chan and Chaeyeon.

As he walked over, he could hear you laughing at something Chan joked about.

“Hyunjin!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms over his shoulder. “Sorry I walked off. It was sooo hot in there.”

yeah, sure it was.

He eyed Chan who gave him a knowing look back. Your slurred words and sudden attitude change were enough evidence to tell him that you were drunk, somehow more than the last time he saw you.

He had originally wanted to walk over and talk to you about Cupid’s Kiss but seeing your state, he knew it wasn’t the time. He’d have to wait.

You chugged the final drops of your drink and closed your eyes, resting your head on Hyunjin’s arm. He shifted, placing his arm around your waist to help keep you upright.

“I’m tired.” you murmured, leaning closer into him.

“You wanna go home?” Hyunjin asked, speaking softly so only you could hear.

“Mhm.”

He nodded and turned back to Chan. “I’m gonna drive her home but if you want I can come back to pick you guys up after.” He didn’t wanna feel like a shitty friend for driving them there and then ditching them.

Chan shook his head and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it, Hyunjin. Changbin can give us a ride.”

Hyunjin smiled and said goodbye before Chae and Chan walked off. Then he focused his attention back on you. You stood up straight and rubbed your eyes in discomfort. He grabbed onto your hand and began guiding you inside the house, surprised that you were even able to keep yourself balanced.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m driving you home.” Finally making it outside of the house and to the front yard, he held onto you tightly as he led you to his car that was parked a short distance from the house.

“Oh no, I can’t go home,” you responded. “My parents will be so mad at me for this.”

He hadn’t even thought about that. Surely, your parents wouldn’t be very happy about you coming home late and completely trashed. But where else were you supposed to go when all of your other friends were still at the party.

“You could stay at my place,” he suggested, his voice sounding a lot more quiet than usual. “if you want.”

You may have been drunk but you weren’t dumb and was still well aware of what he was asking you. Your stomach turned at the thought of spending the night with Hyunjin and Hyunjin only. You didn’t really have any other options so it seemed you’d have to get over your emotions for one night.

“Yes please.”

The drive to Hyunjin’s place wasn’t long. Surprisingly, you managed to stay awake for the ride. You had both sat in silence the whole time, except for when Hyunjin had reminded you to text your parents and tell them you were staying at Ryujin’s for the night. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but more so because you were too caught up in your own thoughts to engage in conversation.

At one point, you had rolled your window down and stuck your head out slightly, taking in the cold air of the night. You closed your eyes when the wind hit your skin and grinned. Hyunjin watched you in admiration.

It was relaxing and almost felt like the wind was blowing all the guilt and nervousness right out of you.

When you got to his house, he had gotten out of the car and rushed over to the passenger side to help you out. You waved him off, insisting that you could walk yourself. Hyunjin shook his head as you began walking to the door, giggling at how you stumbled over your own feet.

Inside, he’d given you some clothes of his to change into, seeing that you probably wouldn’t be too comfortable sleeping in fishnets and a jean jacket. You didn’t even get the chance to protest with him as he shoved you into his bathroom and closed the door behind you.

After throwing his hoodie on, you glanced in the mirror and frowned at the sight of your disheveled hair and semi-smeared makeup. This is what Hyunjin had to look at? Embarrassing. You splashed your face with water and hurried out of the bathroom.

In his room, Hyunjin was making a makeshift bed on the floor with blankets and pillows that he retrieved from another room. Looking up at you, he swallowed. Seeing you wear his clothes brought out a sense of satisfaction in him, like you fit perfectly in them.

“You can take the bed,” he said. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

You frowned. “It’s your room, Hyunjin. I’m totally fine with sleeping on the floor.” If you were being honest, you’d be fine sleeping anywhere. You just wanted to sleep.

“Exactly. It’s my room so I have a say in where you get to sleep,” he smiled, ruffling his hair. “and I say you get to sleep on the bed.”

Rolling your eyes, you trudged over to the bed and snuck under the covers. Once you got comfortable, you patted the spot next to you. “I’m not just gonna let you sleep on the floor,” you hummed, your words still coming out messy. “Lay with me.”

Apparently for you, a side effect of drinking was a sudden boost of confidence because sober Y/n would’ve never mustered up enough courage to ask Hyunjin to sleep with her. Sure, you’ve slept together before but it was accidental and at a sleepover with a bunch of your friends. It didn’t count.

“You sure?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because i’m totally fine with sleeping on the floor. I’ve done it before and like you wouldn't believe how comfortable carpet is when you’re tired.”

Hyunjin’s rambling made you giggle and you sighed, throwing your head back onto the pillow to stare at the ceiling. “Wow. Driving me home, letting me wear your clothes, willing to give up your bed for me,” you spoke quietly, almost to yourself rather than to him. “At this point Hyunjin, it just seems like you’re obsessed with me.”

He let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. He hesitated but much to your surprise, slipped under the covers next to you. Once he got comfortable, he placed his hands under his head and turned to look at you. “I think ‘obsessed’ would be reaching.”

Your heart jumped at the close proximity of you two and you took a deep breath. Silence came once again and maybe it was just you but you could feel the tension in the air. It sat on top of the two of you like a weighted blanket and you didn’t know how to lift it.

You closed your eyes in an attempt to shake away any thoughts and feelings that found their way into your head. Why did he have to be like this?

“What’re you thinking about?” Hyunjin’s voice came out quiet, almost like a whisper.

“You.”

You weren’t sure what came over you. Maybe it was the fact that you were on the verge of sleep or maybe it was the alcohol still very much in your system. Maybe it was both.

Hyunjin’s eyes averted to you. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

Whatever it was, you weren’t completely aware of what you were saying and you knew you were probably going to regret it in the morning. That was, if you could remember saying it.

“Hyunjin,” you yawned before speaking again, “Can I tell you something?”

He looked at you and noticed you still stared at the ceiling, your eyes beginning to get heavy due to sleepiness. You could pass out at any moment whereas Hyunjin wasn’t even tired. “Sure.”

“I think you’re perfect.”

Yeah, you were definitely going to regret saying this in the morning.

“Almost too perfect.” you continued as Hyunjin nervously bit his lip.

He moved his arms to rest on his stomach as he fiddled with his thumbs.

“Too perfect for me.” You said in a hushed tone, worried that if you spoke too loud, he’d be able to hear your heartbeat through your voice. “And that makes this whole thing so much harder.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wish I could deserve you as badly as I want you, Hyunjin.”

He didn’t know what to say or even what to do. You shocked him and as he stared up at the ceiling, he felt stuck in place. The room went quiet again.

He hadn’t prepared himself to hear a drunk confession from you, especially when you sat right next to him in his own bed. It was so sudden and based on the way you practically avoided him all night, it was very random.

I wish I could deserve you as badly as I want you. Your words were on replay in his head and he thought about what Mingyu had told him at the party. It was supposed to be you and him all along. Maybe now would be a good time to mention that.

Hyunjin turned towards you to speak but stopped at the sight of you already sleeping. Your head was close to his on the pillow and you had pulled the blanket all the way up to your neck.

He observed your face. Your lips were pouted and your cheeks slightly puffy. You looked so comfortable. This was the most relaxed he’d seen you all night, free from worry and stress and secrets.

Hyunjin sighed. He’d just have to talk to you about it tomorrow.

He reached over to the table beside his bed and turned his lamp off although he was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all that night.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/n.”

.˚ ✉️ TAGLIST ♡ ⃗

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[jeogiyall]

Two To Tango; C.SN

❥𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟷𝟾.𝟺𝑘

❥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥 (𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇), 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝘴𝘢𝘯'𝘴 𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀; 𝕚𝕕𝕠𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕖, 𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠 (𝙖𝙧𝙞’𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚!)

❥𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝗌𝖺𝗇 𝕩 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳! 𝗒/𝗇 (ʏ/ɴ ɪs ɪɴ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ)

❥𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨: 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 (𝗐𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍!); 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝗈𝗅𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅/𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕪 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗂'𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝐩𝐠𝟷𝟹 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾- 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝐧𝗼𝐭 𝐬𝗺𝐮𝐭!!

❥𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾! 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗌 𝗂 𝖽𝗈 ☺︎☻ -𝕒𝕣𝕚

“What do you think, Y/N?”

You had never seen choreo anything like this before.

Which was a fairly bold statement on your part, seeing as you'd had plenty of exposure to all kinds of dances. Being the lead dancer of your group, you'd trained in almost every category out there during your years in the academy, mastering each technique and style one by one.

But sensual?

You'd never been trained to dance to sensual choreography.

This was likely the reason you appeared so floored when Mimi, your company's head of collaborative marketing (and your personal manager) shared her latest idea with you, something about a duet dance with another idol; she said that bringing such a foreign concept into a collaboration stage would give your group the increase of attention that you so desperately needed.

You couldn't disagree with her logic. It was much harder than it seemed for a group to stay afloat in the idol industry.

"Y/N," Mimi was explaining to you, "I know I speak on behalf of the entire company when I tell you that you are the most talented dancer to walk through these doors. If anyone can pull off this stage, it's you."

You felt your cheeks flush from the professional compliment, but you were still trying to wrap your mind around the brief choreography video you'd just been shown.

You absolutely loved to dance; you always have, ever since you were old enough to walk.

From ballet classes when you were four years old to jazz and tap in your tweens, then modern hip hop and interpretive in your adolescent years, and then from a dance major onwards to learning choreography with your group after debuting a year ago- you were always dancing. It was a piece of your life that held so much meaning, so much joy, that you don't think you'd ever be able to live without it.

So maybe this is why you decide to ditch your initial disbelief at the proposal, your mind opening up a little to the idea. After all, the worst thing that could happen would be a failed stage, and you're sure that the company wouldn't have too much trouble sweeping things under the rug if that happened. How bad could it be, right?

You eventually give in to Mimi's attempts at persuading you, your face breaking out into a grin. You're sure that if you say yes, you'll wonder for the next two weeks who your partner will be from the group you're collaborating with; but you also know that it'll kill you inside to say no.

You nod firmly once Mimi asks you again if you're okay with this. You've made up your mind that you definitely are; you push off any lingering doubts about the sensual stage, and the feelings left behind are ones of excitement and anticipation.

Mimi is visibly pleased, and her happiness is infectious as she claps her hands together joyfully. "It's settled then! I'll let the team from KQ know that both parties are in agreement." She announces with a broad smile.

When you leave the conference room, you feel butterflies in your stomach instead of dread, and a sudden eagerness arises at the prospect of learning a brand-new type of dance.

You can't wait to see what will happen in two weeks.

Day One- 8:53 A.M

You step into your new joint studio building two weeks later, a bright smile on your face and your first-day jitters pushed to the back of your mind.

You're beyond curious to see which member of Ateez you'll be paired with for the collaboration; you secretly hoped it would be Song Mingi, as he was alluring to you both through dance and through his abnormally deep voice. (Okay, so maybe you had a bias already. There was surely no harm in that though, right?)

Mimi was now urging you to make your way up the three flights of stairs as fast as possible, having ditched the building's elevator in favor of a quicker route. There had been a mixup at your company that morning with transportation, which made you more than twenty minutes late- you were supposed to arrive at 8:30.

You could only pray that the hired choreographer wouldn't hold it against you, and that they'd still give you time to properly warm up.

Your nerves are starting to resurface when you push open the doors to your practice room. Both of the occupants have their backs to you, bending over a stereo system along the wall without a mirror. Your manager bids you a hasty goodbye and exits the same way you just came, and you're struggling to catch your breath, standing in the middle of the room gripping the strap of your dance bag for dear life.

The choreographer leaves the stereo to greet you, giving you a warm smile as he introduces himself.

You've looked forward to meeting your instructor for a while now, and you bow to the man respectfully while doing your best to repress the childish glee bubbling up within you, not wanting to seem unprofessional.

Your thoughts are so consumed with greeting the choreographer that you fail to notice the other figure in the room turning to face you.

"Hello, Y/N, it's a pleasure to finally meet you!" The choreographer says. "My name is Jung Deojun, and I look forward to working with you for this stage." You set your bag down and grab an elastic for your hair, still focused on Deojun. "The pleasure is all mine," you respond, "I truly admire your work."

Jung Deojun is happy to hear the compliment, and you're opening your mouth to ask him about his most popular moves when you finally, finally come face-to-face with your new partner.

To say he was handsome would be the understatement of the year.

While you obviously hadn't been paired with who you'd hoped for, (Mingi, the tall rapper) you weren't upset in the slightest. The dancer was standing to the side with his arms crossed over his chest, and the sight was enough to make you want to wipe your hand along your chin just to check if you were drooling.

Any words you'd been preparing to say died on the tip of your tongue as you surveyed your partner. Tall, lean, and stupidly gorgeous, he radiated an aura of confidence and striking intensity that both scared you and intrigued you. His shirt dipped low enough to make your heart skip a beat, and it looked too good on him for him to be standing there in the studio.

His eyes were dark and seemed to pierce straight into your soul- though you had to wonder just how well he was able to see you from behind his long black hair.

He was, without question, the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. But why the hell did he look so pissed?

You gulp down your wave of apprehension and stick out your hand towards him, waiting for him to take it (seeing as that would be the polite thing to do).

"Hello, I'm Y/N of Star Entertainment." You manage to stumble through your self-introduction despite his less than encouraging reaction. He makes no move to shake your outstretched hand, so you awkwardly pull it back and continue talking, "I look forward to dancing with y-"

"You're late."

You hope you don't look as much like a fish as you feel; his monotonous interruption has your mouth opening and closing repeatedly as you try to remember what you'd been about to say.

"I'm sorry," you eventually gather your thoughts long enough to respond. "There was a mixup with transportation from my company, and my manager ended up having to take me herself-"

"I don't care what happened, just don't be late again. It's rude." The guy cuts you off again, visibly impatient. You hold back a scoff at his words; he's definitely one to be talking about rude.

"The name's Choi San." He adds, but he sounds almost bored, as if he'd rather be anywhere else but with you at this very moment.

You don't deem any answer necessary. You hardly trust yourself not to make a jab back at him, but can you be blamed?

You're more than a little peeved that your partner, the man you've been wanting to meet for two very long weeks, seems to have a giant stick up his ass; but you reason out that it's got something to do with the first-day nerves you're sure must be racing through him, too.

At least, that's what you tell yourself as you begin warming up, walking away from the entrance and hoping to escape the rising tension.

Meanwhile San is cursing every dance god out there for sticking him with you. Not because he despises dancing with other people or because he doesn't want to dance with you- but because he's the exact opposite.

He loves dancing with his entire being, and he expected his new partner to love it just as much as he did.

So it was fairly annoying for him to arrive thirty minutes early that morning, excited and eager to get to dancing, and then have to wait nearly another half an hour after the first day was scheduled to begin just for you to get there.

That being said, San almost regrets snapping at you- it wasn't your fault you weren't on time.

But when he catches a glimpse of your pinched, offended expression through the mirror while you take your sweet time warming up, the idea of apologizing immediately flees his head.

He couldn't believe how many prissy dancers there were in the kpop industry- and he was certain that you would just be one more he'd have to work with.

So far, things were not off to a very promising start.

Day Four- 10:15 A.M

"Guys, I think you need to take a quick break." Jung Deojun says as he presses pause on the stereo.

You're more than happy to do so, jumping out of San's grasp so quickly you're concerned you may have pulled a muscle. San has no complaints about the break either; he springs away from you as if you have a contagious disease, and he's intent on not catching whatever disease that may be.

The first day hadn't gone nearly as well as you'd hoped it would. After the initial shock and irritation upon meeting him, you gave San as little attention as you could, and he did the same to you.

Or he tried to do the same.

You both seemed to have forgotten the key concept of the entire dance: sensuality.

And although it was only the first day, the cold and tense atmosphere between the two of you did nothing but increase throughout your time together in the studio- a factor that didn't settle well with your choreographer when you were meant to be dancing as if you were madly in love.

By the end of the second day, you were positive you and San were only ever meant to be enemies. It was like every move he made was done specifically to annoy you, and you had to admit that if that was the case, then it was working like a charm.

The way he spoke to you- when he bothered to speak at all- was so insensitive and cocky that you wanted to clock him in the face. He never cheered you on when you got another step down; all he'd said to you during the past forty-eight hours was backhanded comments on the technique you should have, or how you should move to accommodate him better.

This wasn't how dance was supposed to be.

Two people were supposed to move in sync, in the same fluid motion when they danced together; but with him, it was all give and no take.

Of course, it didn't help that you went rigid as a board every time he so much as shifted towards you.

He wanted to get along with you at first, he really did. But you were making it so difficult to be friendly when you made zero effort to put any feeling into the dance moves that required him to touch you, that any hope he had of being your friend went flying out of the window.

He'd been ready to quit right then and there during your third day in the studio, when you outright refused to let him do the first truly sensual move of the choreography about forty seconds in. San would barely even be able to graze your sides with his fingertips before you jumped away, giving him a steely look that made him all the more eager to push your buttons.

He reasoned that if you were going to be such a priss about things, then there was no danger in him getting you all riled up while you practiced.

And as if you weren't already stressed out by his antics, you were also highly aware of the pressure that was on you guys to learn the dance by the end of the month- you had only five weeks to completely master the choreography for the collaboration stage and for the performance video.

You wished the song wasn't so long- there were six and a half total minutes of choreography, and you'd only gone through about two minutes of it all.

To make things worse, the steps you'd learned so far didn't look good by any means. Jung Deojun knew it would most likely take another week or two just to get to the halfway point, at the rate things were going now.

You knew that the clock was ticking; this morning marked your fourth day at the studio.

Deojun's goal was for you and San to get a feel for each move you learned as you learned it, which was why it had taken so long to memorize such a small chunk of the song.

His philosophy was that people can learn two ways: they can learn it all and perfect it later, or they can learn it all perfectly the first time with a little more effort. (It was very clear which way of learning you and your partner were going through based on how many times you'd pressed 'restart' on the stereo.)

You made sure you arrived on time each morning after that first day, not wanting another reason for San to pick on you. Currently, the two of you were tackling the first moderately sized snippet of the song, the buildup to the chorus. You'd been at it for around two hours today, and you didn't seem to be making any real progress.

There's a move where you and San need to glide across the floor and into each other's personal space, and he's supposed to trail his hands slowly up along your sides to cradle your head. Your step is to push San away from you and then grab him by the collar to bring him right back until you were practically breathing the same air; and while the pushing away part was the easiest thing you'd learned so far, tugging him towards you again was proving to be difficult to do without scowling.

That same scowl threatens to appear after another hour of practice when San tosses you a Snickers bar from his bag, and you look down at it accusingly without picking it up from the floor.

"This isn't exactly part of my company's diet regulations, San." You huff, knowing you'd like nothing more than to eat the candy bar right this very second but remembering you can't eat anything if it isn't on your meal plan.

San just raises an eyebrow and motions for you to pick it up anyways. "I thought you'd want it. I mean, you're not you when you're hungry, so maybe if you had a Snickers bar then you'd be more fun to work with."

You don't bother hiding your lethal expression from him.

"Choi San," you hiss, "I swear once we finish doing this dance I'm actually going to strangle you."

Your choreographer chooses to break up the conversation at this moment, not hearing the whispered reply of 'kinky' that makes your blood boil.

"Alright you two, that's enough," Jung Deojun cuts in. "You don't seem to be comfortable with each other yet, so why don't we all sit down and take some time to eat lunch? You've worked hard anyways, so you deserve to rest." He offers.

While the idea of actually sitting down to eat your salad, instead of inhaling it between sessions, sounds incredibly tempting, you know you'll be too busy fuming to really enjoy a lunch break.

You kick the Snickers bar back towards San and put on a bright smile for Deojun.

"No, thank you, I'd rather get back to practicing. We've got a long way to go." You give your partner another nasty look with your last statement, implying that he's most of the problem.

This implication doesn't go unnoticed by him, and he actually has the nerve to wink at you. To wink- as if he isn't the legitimate most infuriating human being on the planet. You ball your hands into fists to refrain from pulling at your hair in frustration.

San watches on in dry amusement; he never saw it coming, but he's quickly discovered that he loves to get a rise out of you. He chalks it up to the simple fact that you interact the most with him when you're angry.

Sensing the tension in the room, Deojun shakes his head and insists on taking a real break for lunch. He doesn't miss the exchange of killer glares between you and San, and it brings a frown to his face as you begin to argue with your partner over the offending Snickers bar.

Jung Deojun has taught many choreographies in his time as a dancer. He's quite honestly lost track of the number of pairs he's worked with who had no chemistry together, or the countless dancer duos who simply didn't warm up to the other person.

He has also seen his fair share of enemies on the dance floor- the exes, the competitors, and even one couple who broke up in the middle of a rehearsal.

And yet, despite all of this, he has never seen anyone who fights quite as passionately as you and San.

But rather than getting annoyed at your nearly constant bickering, he finds himself feeling curious about it; he wants to know why your animosity towards each other seems to run so deep when you'd only met three days ago.

And frankly, he wants to see just how thin the line is between love and hate.

Your instructor sighs loudly once your voice raises in volume, wanting to roll his eyes at the childish feud taking place over a piece of candy- though it seems the argument has gotten to the point of being ridiculously useless, and Deojun is sure that one of you is bound to give it up in the next few seconds.

Your accusations of San being a total jerk continue to fall on deaf ears as he quickly proves the choreographer correct, checking out of the argument altogether by pulling his phone out and playing on it.

San's rude behavior makes you want to stomp your foot angrily like a petulant toddler, but you don't.

You instead go silent, biting your lip and getting yourself together because you are a mature and professional dancer- unlike someone- and you're already very embarrassed that Deojun has seen how worked up you get over your partner.

So in an attempt to save face, you take a deep breath, count to ten, and walk to the mini refrigerator in the corner of the studio to grab your lunch.

Deojun seems relieved that the Snickers spat is over, and immediately invites you into a less irritating conversation as you take a seat on the floor beside him.

"So, Y/N, what do you do for fun besides dance?" He asks you. You have to think for a moment about that.

What do you do when you're not rehearsing or promoting?

"Well, I spend most of my time dancing, but I guess I like to hang out with my group between promotions." You eventually come up with an answer.

"What do you do with your friends when you're hanging out?" Your instructor prompts. You shrug and finish eating the forkful of salad before you reply, "We normally go out to the city together to walk around, listening to live music and visiting cute cafés or restaurants."

San nearly snorts at how typical your response is until you add as an afterthought, "But we never have time for those things anymore."

Jung Deojun asks you "why not?" and you tell him, "We practice nearly sixteen hours a day together, and when we aren't in our studio, we're in our dorms perfecting every dance movement or every song for our company. We can't afford to slip up with so much at stake, so we just kind of... I don't know, stopped going out."

San acts like he isn't listening; but in reality he's paying close attention to your words, and he tells himself it's only because he needs more ammunition to use in order to tease you later.

You continue to elaborate on your struggles as an idol to Deojun, and it feels good to be able to talk about the pressure being put on your shoulders with someone other than your managers.

"When I first started training to become an idol, I was always content to just dance for the sake of dancing. I wasn't used to the expectation that I had to be better than someone else; I honestly never thought the competition would happen off of the stage. It caught me off guard when I realized I'd have to fight for every chance to do what I love, and even after making it into an agency and debuting in a group, we're still always fighting to be on top, to be the best."

"And to me dance was never about being the best. It's about expressing something you feel, something so deep words can't explain it well enough." You shrug, and you miss the fond smile of your instructor as he remembers the days where he was in your shoes.

San lost interest in his phone a while ago; instead he now holds his lunchbag in his hands.

And when you turn your head to steal a glance at him, you find that he's giving you the first non-irritating look you've seen on his face since the day you met.

Well then.

You certainly hadn't expected to see that reaction- nor had San intended for you to catch it.

If he's being honest with himself, he never really thought he'd connect with you, especially after the disastrous first day together. But your words resonate deeply within him, to a point where he thinks that maybe, you might not be quite as uptight as you appear.

He finds himself hoping that that's the case; hoping that there's more to you than just a prissy lead dancer who refuses to loosen up.

It makes your stomach twist to see him look at you with anything other than annoyance or spite. If you didn't know any better, you would say that it almost seems like he's... impressed? Like he might not hate your guts after all?

But you'd be stupid to forget how intently you despised each other just a few minutes ago, how you bickered over that candy bar; and the sudden change in his demeanor has left your head spinning.

Whatever it is, you're not sure why it affects you as much as it does, so you ignore it and keep talking to Deojun so that you don't have to engage with San until you're done eating.

To make things even more confusing, once your lunch break is over and you begin to go through the choreo again, he isn't throwing his usual insults and criticisms your way like he had done every afternoon for the past week.

You're not sure what to make of the unspoken truce- and you're not sure why it unnerves you as much as it does. But San is acting totally opposite of how he's been acting so far, and it lasts through the remainder of your fourth day.

He doesn't even bother to give you a half-assed "you're too stiff" the way he normally would.

You have to force yourself not to think about how easily the routine flows when you aren't arguing; and you can't help but wonder whether this random, unofficial friendship will last- and if it does, then what changed?

But when the fourth day ends and you walk into the studio the following morning, he's back to wearing his cocky little smirk and teases you for the Starbucks frappuccino in your hand, telling you that it's fake coffee and reminding you of how against your meal plan the drink is.

You nearly cringe at yourself for thinking things would ever change between the two of you in such a short amount of time. But, if you're really being upfront, you can't pretend as though you don't look forward to pushing his buttons each day, getting immense satisfaction from knowing you get on his nerves just as much as he gets on yours.

Jung Deojun, on the other hand, is simply looking forward to the day you guys get through learning the steps so that he can sit back and watch the sparks flying through his studio.

Day Twelve- 4:55 P.M

Deojun is out using the restroom down the hallway at the end of your twelfth day, and it's just you and your partner standing together in the mirror while he's gone. You're intentionally avoiding San's piercing gaze as you stretch out your sore limbs, choosing to move towards the stereo so you can play the music one more time before the end of today's session.

He had been driving you crazy throughout this entire past week. It was the usual stuff at first: pointless arguing, name-calling, bickering, and insults flung at each other for no good reason.

And then, something shifted.

On the sixth day of choreo, you waltzed through the studio doors with a bright smile and your hair down out of your ponytail, looking a bit windblown. You'd woken up late that day but you were still determined not to be late to practice, so you didn't have time to put your hair up or grab your coffee.

It was the day when San noticed just how hard it had become for him to take his eyes off of you; but how could he not stare when you come twirling into the room like you've been dancing with the wind and looking as if you've just been kissed by the sun?

You'd caught him staring more times than you could count on that sixth day, and while it unnerved you a little, you couldn't deny the pleasurable rush you got from knowing he was looking.

But it did make things a little more tense when you had your pointless arguments; you weren't sure how to curse him out when he looked at you with that strange glint in his eye- the glint that made you question if you even really hated him in the first place.

The tension only skyrocketed after that. By the tenth day, the pressure between you and San was so strong that it was bound to explode any time now. A new side of your (already strained) relationship had developed- in addition to his irritating habits and your stinging insults, you now shared burning glances, soft touches, and the feeling of wanting just a little bit more.

The change wasn't entirely unwelcome, much to your dismay. You hadn't expected him to affect you the way that he did; but when you find that your skin sears instead of crawls when his hand brushes against you, you know that you can no longer ignore the magnetic pull between your bodies, the one you're secretly begging yourself to cave into each time he holds you close during the dance.

But just because you aren't able to ignore the pull towards San doesn't mean that you won't try.

You keep your back to him as you approach the equipment; but you can hear his footsteps right behind you when you walk to the other side of the studio, and you have a hunch that he won't go away without bothering you.

San follows you until you reach the sound system and you huff in annoyance before you turn around to face him.

"Shouldn't you be stretching right now, Fireboy?" You ask tiredly, hoping he'll get the point and stop closing in on your personal space.

You didn't intend to call him that- you've referred to him as Fireboy in your mind for a while now, the title fitting his disposition perfectly; one minute he was smoky as embers, and the next he was blazing with heat. Like an unpredictable wildfire.

He shakes his head and answers ironically, "Nope, I'm already all cooled down for the day, Miss Priss."

You go back to the stereo, thinking that the discussion is through, and you practically jump three feet in the air when he spins you around again, the hand gripping your waist not making you nearly as mad as you'd wanted it to.

You can't move backwards at all with the stereo poking into your spine, but you've got nowhere to run once San places his free hand on the wall next to you, successfully trapping you. You wish the action pissed you off enough to push him away- but your hands fall weakly against his chest, and the sudden contact makes your pulse race.

"San, what the hell are you doing?" You ask him, exasperation evident in your voice.

San flashes his stupid smirk and leans closer to your body, making your cheeks flush at the proximity. "I thought maybe we should try to get rid of some of the tension Deojun keeps talking about, since it's interfering with the dance. Don't you agree, Y/N?"

You sneer at him and shove his chest harder.

"I don't know what you're talking about." You reply sharply, "The dance is perfectly fine San, you're being ridiculous. We aren't even done learning the choreo yet, so have some patience." San's smirk only grows, along with your annoyance.

You eye him distastefully and give him a once-over before looking to the doorway, continuing to insult him despite the way his sleeveless shirt makes your heart flutter. "But something tells me that patience isn't really in your vocabulary, is it?"

And just like that, you find yourself holding back a noise of surprise when his hand grips your chin like a silken vice, forcing you to keep your gaze trained on him. You're helpless to his strong hold and the feeling of his body heat radiating against your skin is messing with your head, further supporting your idea that this man is a scorching ball of fire; even his touch is hot enough to burn.

You fight off a shudder when he refuses to break eye contact. The cocky grin is gone, replaced with some foreign expression that you don't think you want to put a label on just yet.

He dips his head down next to your ear. His next words, mixed with the way his hair tickles your face, manage to send sparks through your veins as he murmurs, "You know, princess, I wasn't expecting you to be so damn bratty."

You have to remind yourself that the sentence is, in fact, offensive- and that you should be getting mad at him for it right about now.

Thankfully that part always comes easy to you.

"Oh, so I'm the brat?" You retort sarcastically. You poke a finger into his chest and question him further, "I'm the bratty one for showing up late one time and getting shit about it from you before you even told me your name?"

San's grip tightens as you speak, but you're so focused on chewing him out that you hardly even register it.

"Please enlighten me as to how I'm the brat when it's always you who has a problem with something." At this point you've forgotten that you're only venting about him to distract yourself from his touch, and now you're just plain pissed off.

"Honestly, I thought you were at least a little bit brighter than this, Fireboy. Anyone with a brain would be able to tell that the only brat here is you, but you're so set on being 'holier-than-thou' every second of the day that you don't even bother to see it. You're such a child." Your words are positively scathing.

San has had enough of your sassy remarks and cuts your rant short, "Oh come on Y/N, you don't seriously believe I'm the only one to blame. You're not as innocent as you try to appear, Miss Priss; don't think I've forgotten the names you call me when you think Deojun isn't listening. You're as much at fault here as I am. As a matter of fact, I'd go as far as to say that the 'childish' one is you."

"And this is coming from the one who called me 'more useless than an appendix' not even twenty minutes ago, right?" You scoff.

He rolls his eyes at your quotation of his most recent insult and says, "Cut the crap and just admit it already."

But between the compromising position, the bite in his voice, and the sheer irritation coursing through your body, you're getting sick and tired of your partner's little mind games.

"What do you mean?" You ask, "Admit what? What're you playing at?"

"Admit that you're no different than any other self-absorbed, uptight lead dancer I've worked with, and you only hate me because you wanted to be paired with another idol." He answers, every syllable causing you to see red. "You're just a classic prissy princess who won't cooperate when you don't get your way, and you're refusing to do the dance right because I'm not the one you wanted to dance with. It's stereotypical lead dancer behavior, and you know it."

Oh.

Oh hell no.

Did he really just call you self-absorbed and prissy?

If you weren't already mad enough, then now you're practically seething. San knows purely by the look on your face that he's fucked up, that he's taken things a little too far- but both of you are too wound up right now for him to try and make amends.

It's all he can do to stay impassive when you shove his hand away from your chin and grab fistfuls of his shirt, roughly bringing him down to your level.

"Choi fucking San," You curse, "you take that back this minute, you piece of shit."

His eyes drop to your mouth- a mistake that has enough meaning to turn the tables in your favor in an instant.

It's a mistake, one simple mistake. Just one small moment of indulgence as he memorizes the curve of your lips; yet all sanity immediately vanishes from his mind at the sudden urge he has to kiss you senseless, to shut you up in the most romantic way possible.

He's fighting the urge so hard that he doesn't even think about the next four words out of his mouth- Mistake Number 2.

"And if I don't?"

Your knuckles are turning white from the grip on his collar; you come to the realization that maybe your heart is beating a bit too fast for someone who's arguing with a mere dance partner.

You end up making Mistake Number Three- you don't release your hold on his shirt, and you don't push him away when his head drifts closer down to yours.

Three strikes and you're out.

"Then I'm walking out of this room and never dancing with you again." You pray your voice sounds at least half as spiteful as it did at the beginning of all this, but you aren't sure.

San finally tears his gaze away from your lips and is back to giving you a blazing glare. Part of him hopes you can see the passion and desire burning behind his expression so that you'll understand he doesn't really mean it when he snaps, "Fine with me, princess."

It's the same part of him that secretly thrives off of the electric tension and the lingering hands; the side of him that wants to hold you just a little longer when the music stops.

He really hopes he isn't going crazy when he thinks he sees that side in you, too.

"Fine," You snap back halfheartedly as the fight goes out of you all at once, "have it your way."

You both know your words are empty.

Unlike San, you have been intentionally unaware of how your body reacts to your partner, constantly choosing to ignore the tugging in your gut when you go through the choreo with him.

You always did your best to diffuse the tension that crackles between you two every time you dance; but the more choreography you learn, the harder it is to keep acting as though you aren't drawn to San like a moth to a flame.

You can whine and argue and call him names all day (you already do). But under the loathsome looks and sharp words, you can't deny the underlying attraction you feel to him.

You try with all your might to remind yourself of how insufferable he can be, but it's no use; the anger drains out of you the second you notice how close San still is to you. Your hands are still attached to his shirt, his face is an inch from yours, and his arms are on either side of you, with the stereo still poking into your spine.

Even the thick atmosphere around the room seems to be holding its breath as you both stay put in this position, wondering who would make the first move.

You think you should probably get going; after all, you've just given him the dance ultimatum. Shouldn't you be hightailing it out of the studio and never looking back...

...but you never get to finish that thought.

Because the second that the thought crosses your mind, San is reaching up to take your face in his hand, his heated touch softer than you would've ever guessed it to be.

His fingers skim your cheek delicately, with all the grace of a musician playing his instrument; your eyes begin to flutter closed in expectation for what is about to happen, and you unknowingly lean into the palm of his hand, not putting up a fight.

But you wouldn't dare fight against what's surely happening now- not after having the image of it plague your nights for weeks on end.

He's closer than he's ever been. He doesn't stop; he comes closer, and closer, and closer...

And then, your rotten luck seems to remember it's purpose in your life.

Jumping back in to ruin the moment, it causes your elbow to bump against the stereo and the music comes on at top volume, shattering your eardrums. It's all that the moment needed to come to a screeching halt before disappearing completely.

You wince at the sudden noise and release your grasp on San's shirt, pushing him away from you to tend to the sound system. You quickly turn the music off and put a hand over your racing heart.

San feels like he's rooted in his place, and he can't erase the image in his head of what was about to happen.

He can't shake the way you so easily leaned into his touch; the way he knew he was definitely going to kiss you, and how you were definitely going to let him. He nearly shouts when you break contact to shut the stereo up, leaving him high and dry, waiting for a fire that is no longer burning.

The clock on the wall snaps both of you back into reality, chiming to signal the end of your twelfth day- and for the first time since all of this began, you're reluctant to leave the studio.

What now?

You give San an uneasy look, an awkward smile tugging at your lips. "I, um, I guess I'll be going now." You tell him.

You're expecting him to shoo you off, to comment about how you insisted you weren't coming back once you left today; but he can't bring himself to tease you when he's still feeling so vulnerable.

The idea of insulting you is suddenly unappealing when he realizes that he would much rather be kissing you.

"Yeah, me too." He replies simply; and that's all there is to it. There's no more bickering, no more teasing or conversation once he bids you goodbye.

You stumble over your words like a runner over a hurdle. "See you tomorrow, Fireboy."

You're the first to leave the room, grabbing your bag and making a beeline for the exit. You have no idea what just went down, but you have a sneaking suspicion that things will be much, much different by this time tomorrow.

Meanwhile San is still glued to where he stood next to the stereo, cursing himself for letting you leave without doing what he's wanted to do since the day you argued over the Snickers.

Day Sixteen- 8:35 AM

On the morning of your thirteenth day of practice, Jung Deojun thinks the world must've flipped on its axis in the middle of the night.

It's the only scenario he can come up with to explain why you and San no longer act like you want to slit each other's throats when you walk into the building together, the tension pulsing between you and him having shifted without any notice or warning.

He doesn't expect the truce to last long; but you prove him wrong when three days pass in relative peace, and when you and your partner enter the studio on the sixteenth day, Deojun knows something must have happened.

However, the choreographer thinks it would be too unprofessional to pry, so he decides to pretend that his pupils have been friends all along.

"Good morning you two, did you sleep well?" Deojun greets you both with a wary grin. You nod wordlessly, and he says, "I hope so, because we're finishing up the last few moves of the choreo today. I grabbed some extra waters and snacks to carry us through, but I've informed your managers that we might stay late at the studio tonight. Are you guys opposed to that at all?"

He intentionally leaves out the fact that your manager, Mimi, had chewed him out about working you too hard for almost an hour over the phone when he asked.

You and San share an apprehensive look, but you shake your heads anyways, knowing you'd both rather stay late and finish the choreography as soon as possible.

"Great. Let's get started."

*

By the time you walk through the very last step of the dance, the clock on the wall reads 7:15 in the evening.

It was the longest day you'd had; though it seemed to you as if the hours passed at lightning speed- and you were pretty confident you knew why.

It was because you'd finally stopped holding yourself back when you danced, and neither you nor San could get enough of the new passion that was rapidly igniting at each little motion. It was like a dam had been broken; all you'd needed to open those gates was a push, just one hard shove in the right direction, for everything to fall into place.

You simply hadn't expected the shove to push yourself into San's waiting arms.

If your choreographer noticed the ease with which you and he now practiced the sensual movements, he didn't say anything about it; but you were both aware that sparks were blazing to life with every dip and sway- but neither of you wanted to be the first to put out the fire.

Rather, you found yourselves doing all you could to keep fanning the flames; it especially helped that you no longer needed to yell at each other in order to communicate. You'd been finding much more civil ways to talk since your twelfth day of dancing.

You and San reluctantly move away from each other once the dance is done and the music stops, spinning to face your instructor as he packs up. You refrain from coughing to cover up the way your insides feel like they're turning to mush.

"Awesome job guys!" Deojun claps and walks over to the stereo, a proud smile on his face. "That's it for the choreography, so if you two are ready to leave for the night then you're fine to do so. I'm finished for today, but if either of you stay longer, make sure you lock up after you're done."

You nod and gesture towards the door. "I'm starving, so I'm gonna leave, too." You look at San with a smile that is no longer lethal, and your gaze shines with something other than anger and irritation- a sweet combination that's almost too much for him to handle. "You coming?"

San licks his lips and shrugs, eyes trained on you. "Sure, but I can stay back and lock up while I grab my things, so I'll meet you out front."

You sling your bag over your shoulder and follow Deojun out of the studio, willing your brain to quit focusing on how flustered San's stare makes you.

You stop by the restroom to change out of your dance gear into a pair of light jeans and a loose shirt, trading out your dance shoes for comfy slip-ons, and you hope that the dazzled look on your face disappears soon when you head out.

You never imagined that the same guy who's been driving you insane for two weeks would ever cause you to blush; but here you were, hands pressed to your cheeks in an attempt to chase away the pink flush before you step outside, the image of your almost-kiss playing on repeat in the back of your mind like it usually did these days.

You weren't sure how it happened, but somewhere along the line, you realized that you never really hated San.

You reacted to his insults and his accusations, sure, but a part of you knew that the words were always empty; and even with as many times as you'd said it since meeting him, you honestly didn't hate San.

You just hated that you hadn't kissed him yet.

Jung Deojun has already left the building when you hear the entry door open and close, San approaching where you're standing alone outside of the studio and preoccupied with taking down your ponytail. The hand you were running through your hair halts when you feel his palm hover over your lower back, and his mere presence is enough to give you chills.

You gulp and drop your arm, spinning around.

The breath is practically knocked out of San when you turn to face him. He registers that the hand he's placed on your back now serves to pull you closer, but that's the last thing on his mind when he notices how your head cranes up to look him in the eyes, your almost hopeful expression being the cutest thing he's ever seen as your mouth forms a slight smile.

He's decided that he definitely prefers this look on you over the pissed-off ones he used to earn himself.

"Hey," He says simply, "you ready to go eat?"

You raise an eyebrow. "We're eating together? What about our managers, don't we both have places to be?"

San subconsciously guides your body closer to his, and you force yourself to ignore how droolworthy he looks in his skinny jeans and the black long-sleeved shirt he's tucked into them, keeping your eyes trained on anything that isn't the thick belt around his waist.

The outfit only does more to affirm how San is practically the e-boy of your dreams, posing a stark contrast to your light clothes and soft cardigan; your pulse quickens just from seeing the chain he's looped through his jeans. He looks dark and dangerous, and you love it.

The thought of grabbing that chain to close the gap between you is too tempting to entertain- so you banish it immediately.

"I contacted my company and they said we're free to do whatever we want until ten, as long as we stay out of trouble." San eventually responds to your question.

Your smile widens at the information, and you don't even feel yourself leaning into his arms, peering up at him happily. "In that case, I'm good to go wherever, because Mimi is always trying to get us out to eat more. As long as I get some food I don't really care what we eat." You say.

San so desperately wants to tighten his arms around you when you melt into his hold; but he isn't sure how well you'll respond if you aren't aware of what you're doing now, so he settles for keeping both of his hands placed on your hips, pushing away his desire to trace his fingers over the sliver of skin exposed by your shirt.

"Mimi is your personal manager, right?" San asks to keep up conversation.

"Yeah, but she's more like a friend than a manager," You tell him with a fond look in your eye, "she's always had my back, ever since day one. We're really close."

San has to supress a sigh at how irresistably cute you are; he doesn't know what to do with himself, aside from trying not to melt into putty at your touch. This is a far cry from the rigid stance you normally have around him, and he can't believe how much things have changed in the last four days.

If this had been happening a week ago, you would've laughed in San's face at the offer to go eat together, and he would go back to his dorm at KQ and tell his seven friends about how insufferable you'd been that day.

But now?

Now you're voluntarily spending time with him outside of the studio, and he's wondering why you guys didn't do this sooner.

"I'm feeling partial to pizza, how about you?" He suggests.

You nod quickly at the idea, "That sounds great, but I haven't had pizza in so long; we'll have to Google directions."

"I know a good place down the street, about two blocks away. It's close enough that we can walk from here." San offers. He points to your left, towards the downtown area, and you hoist your bag higher up on your shoulder.

"Then by all means, lead the way." You tease.

You don't exactly hold hands as the two of you walk towards the closest pizza place side-by-side; but you're not at all the sworn enemies you'd been at this time four days ago.

And by the end of the night, you go to bed with a full stomach and a voice in your head that says, maybe Choi San isn't as bad as you thought he was.

Day 19 - 7:50 PM

"Oh my god, you're kidding!" You hide your laughs behind your hand, elbows resting on the table.

Deojun shakes his head rapidly, affirming the truth to the wild story he's been sharing with you and San over your meal at the diner three doors down from the studio (which your other managers barely even agreed to let you go to after taking one look at the menu; thankfully, Mimi was able to convince them that you deserved a treat).

"No, I'm serious! They walked into the studio in full clown suits and told me they were ready to dance!"

You snort so hard you're afraid your milkshake might go up your nose. You couldn't believe all of the crazy stuff he'd seen as a mentor, and some of the things his students had done while dancing were amusing enough to bring tears to your eyes. But the day had been long enough- and exhausting enough- that maybe you were just feeling giddy out of tiredness.

San is currently clutching his sides and shaking with laughter across from you in the booth, and he doesn't seem to be too far from tears himself. "Then it's no wonder we seem so normal to you after you taught a group like that. That one couple makes mine and Y/N's silly fights look mature, don't you think?"

Deojun waggles his eyebrows suggestively, making you laugh even harder. "I wouldn't exactly say normal. You two were about as difficult as any other students I've ever had when you first started. I'm actually kind of surprised we're all sitting pleasantly here right now, given the circumstances up until recently..." He trails off, the playful expression slipping from his face when the three of you realize what's being implied.

It was so strange to think that you'd gone from hating your partner's guts a couple of days ago to where you were now, eating dinner together with Deojun after a long day of rehearsal.

You and San had definitely become friends at this point, much to your relief; but the passion with which you danced together always left you wondering if there was something more.

After all, friends don't dance like that- even if your managers instructed you to act like lovers.

"I know you'll need to get back to your managers soon or else Mimi might bite my head off, so I'll go on up and get our bill." Deojun announces, pulling you from your train of thought as the choreographer nudges you urgently, gesturing for you to move so he can get out of the booth.

You let him out and slide back in when he leaves for the front counter, an uncalled-for nervous rush zipping down your body when you catch San's eye.

The dancer stares you down from across the table and twirls his tongue around the straw in his milkshake, immediately taking note of the way your eyes follow his movement. He chooses not to tease you about it but smirks nonetheless, fully aware of the effect he has on you.

You stay silent; and despite the newfound friendship that has made talking much less difficult for the both of you, you can't form a coherent sentence to save your life when he looks at you like you're a ten-thousand-piece puzzle that he can't wait to solve. You know you won't last long under his intense gaze before you start blushing.

The air in the booth is practically humming with tension- it seems to do that quite often when he's in the same room as you.

"You know, I'm kind of with Deojun on what he said. I never thought we'd end up here." He admits suddenly.

You look up, wondering if he's talking about eating here at the diner or if he's talking about something else entirely. You think it's the former, but your heart flutters at the subtle double meaning.

"Me neither." You respond softly, wrapping your hands around your cold glass. Your milkshake is now nothing but a puddle of leftover whipped cream at the bottom of the cup, but your lack of words makes you wish you hadn't finished it quite so fast.

He leans forward to put his weight on his elbows, coming closer across the table, and the inexplicable gleam in his eye is back; with the intimacy of it all, you feel as though he's about to let you in on a big secret.

You gulp nervously.

"After the first week with you, I expected to just go through the motions and then move on," San says in a voice so low it's nearly a murmur, "but you proved me wrong. As a matter of fact, you proved me wrong about a lot of things when it comes to you, and this is probably the first time I've ever been glad I wasn't right."

You're taken aback by his words, and it's a little too vague for you to understand.

You hope your voice doesn't sound as wobbly to him as it does to you when you ask him, "What things were you wrong about?"

He shrugs, taking another long sip of his shake, before he regards you with a stare so intense it seems to almost pin you to your seat.

"You're not the selfish prissy princess I thought you were." He eventually says.

Your eyes narrow at this, your suspicions about his confession rising even though he's not insulted you at all since the twelfth day in the studio.

San sees the way your guard goes up and laughs, shaking his hair out of his face. "Relax Y/N, there's no need to go on the defensive." He reassures you, "I'm just saying that I assumed too much about you when we met, and I should've said sorry sooner for not giving you a chance to show me that you were different."

You feel the tips of your ears burn at the unexpected apology.

You want to tear your gaze away from him so you can stare intently at your shoes; but some invisible force is keeping it glued on him, where there's a softness you've not yet seen glimmering in his eyes.

You know that you should say something in return, that you need to accept his apology and keep the conversation going- but your thoughts are spinning and racing and wild; and they're so full of him that you're afraid of what you'd say if you opened your mouth.

You never really let yourself cave into the way he makes you feel before. After all, you were way too annoyed by him in the beginning for you to register the other feelings he stirred up inside you.

But now that you've given up on trying to hate San, the ache to know him, to really know him- his touch, his kiss, his smile and his story- is almost overwhelming.

"Alrighty, everything's paid for." Your choreographer chooses that exact moment to arrive back at the booth, effectively slicing through the thick tension. "You're both free to go, and I'll see you tomorrow bright and early!"

You and San follow him out of the booth without any more discussion, but neither of you need to speak to know that another shift has occurred between you.

He can tell you sense the rising pressure when you leave that night, walking you to where your company's car is waiting.

San is quick to open the door for you like a gentleman; but when he raises the back of your hand to his lips in a move that would normally be just as gentlemanly, the depth of his expression when he makes eye contact is more than enough to put fire in your veins.

The encounter makes you wish you were bold enough to do more than just curl your fingers loosely around his hand.

You give yourself away with the breathy tone of your voice as you tell him good night, for once letting the tingling sensation on your hand have some meaning, and his lips pull into a soft grin at the sight of your pink cheeks.

As you close your door and the car pulls away from where San stands, your heart starts pounding in anticipation of seeing him tomorrow.

You wonder if you'll finally have the courage to show him the effect he's had on you.

Day 22 - 8:15 PM

The days continue to fly by in a whirlwind of teasing touches and sensual stares, until only three more remain before the night of the collaboration stage.

You read the time on your phone as you pull off your dance shoes, the screen showing that it was currently 8:15 in the evening.

Earlier today, you and San had shot the official performance video for the song, a three-minute-long clip that you hope had captured all of your hard work and effort. It had been done in a newer section of the studio building, on a floor you'd not been to before; but you were sufficiently elated at the gorgeous floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the walls of the dance room, and the lighting they provided was perfect for the video.

But despite the pretty setup, you felt like the dressing rooms in the back were somewhat... lacking. It was too small, poorly separated, and alarmingly unsupervised- the perfect recipe for disaster.

You see San's shadow moving around behind the flimsy screen that divides the empty room, and you rush to change out of the costume into normal clothes. You shimmy your jeans up quickly and tug your favorite sweater on over your head, hurrying because you know that if you can see him, then he can probably see you, too.

You try not to yank on your hair as you pull it out of its elaborate bun. Running a hand through it, you suppress a snort when you're met with a crunchy, knotty mess; between the uppity stylist and the mega-hold hairspray, your hair is practically standing up on its own, the strands feeling more like hay than hair.

You grab your brush and get to work, carefully detangling the knots and working from the bottom upwards. Mimi wouldn't be too pleased if you gave yourself split ends.

"Is it safe for me to come in?" San's voice startles you, and you jump with the hairbrush still in your hand, catching violently on a clump of stubborn hairspray. You yelp at the pain in your scalp and shoot him a burning look, but your anger is more directed towards your brush than at your partner.

San raises his eyebrows and clicks his tongue, his footsteps sure as he approaches you. "Here, let me help you." He offers. You don't think twice before handing him the hairbrush and sitting on the cosmetics table, your cheeks flaming as you whisper a thank you.

You don't expect him to be very gentle, but you're surprised at the feather-light touch when he begins to work out the remaining knots, and it sends pleasant sensations to your scalp that make your eyelids slide shut.

He moves your hair to the side and combs through the crown of your head. You almost shudder when you realize you can feel every time he exhales, warm breath fanning over the back of your neck. You don't even notice the way you crane your head slightly back, your spine pressed against his chest, the proximity keeping your cheeks stained pink.

But oh, does San notice.

He also notices another reaction that you've failed to see- your reflection in the mirror across the room.

His grip tightens on the handle of the brush at your blissful expression, eyes closed and lips subconsciously pouted. San nearly wishes you'd stayed in your bland dance clothes, because with the way your jeans hug your hips and the tantalizing dip of your sweater's neckline, he's struggling to keep his cool.

As a matter of fact, nothing in the room was cool anymore- his hands, your face, and the atmosphere surrounding you both had all become maddeningly hot.

Your eyes flutter open when San stops moving.

"San, I can take care of the rest, you don't have to do this for me-" You begin to say, but your words abandon you when San puts the brush down and trails a finger in lazy circles on your neck. You do shudder this time, unable to conceal the way your body responds to him; and it brings a smirk to San's lips as he watches your defenses start to chip away.

He's determined to finish what you'd both started- and he doesn't plan on leaving this room until he's felt your mouth on his and his hands on your skin.

"But I want to, princess." He says smoothly, the hidden meaning of the word want driving you nuts, while the pet name makes your heart leap like it always does.

You brace your palms on the surface of the table, hoping for some sort of stability because God knows your mind is far from it.

You summon up all the courage you have and finally, finally ask the question that's been tossed around in your head for the last two or three weeks.

"Is that... is that all you want?"

You're surprised at the strength of your own voice- though now that you've said it, you want to curl into a ball and hide away forever.

San knows exactly what you mean. He knows you're not talking about hair or dancing, and he knows the answer he would give you if he were man enough not to twirl around the truth.

He knows he wants to be yours; what he doesn't know, however, is how much you'd be willing to risk to be his.

But he'll be damned if he lets anything stop him from finding out.

"I think you know by now what I want." He tests the waters hesitantly, afraid you may take it the wrong way. Because although he can't deny his attraction to you physically, San is drawn to you more by your fire and your passion than he is by your body.

You can sense it, the uncharacteristic doubt and uncertainty in his words, and it puts a lump in your throat when you realize how vulnerable you both are at this point.

You swallow hard. "I do." It's simple, short, and barely above a whisper, but it's out there now; you've placed the ball back in his court, so it's up to him to make the shot.

You never were much good at basketball, anyways.

San rounds the table to stand in front of you, eyes searing with that familiar intensity that always leaves your knees weak, and his arms reach out on either side of where you sit to balance his weight on the table. He hovers over you- but he's just far away enough to keep himself from touching you.

His voice is gruff when he speaks next. "You've known for a while now that we aren't just partners." It's self explanatory, and you don't interrupt when he tilts his head to give you a sweltering gaze. "And you're not too good at hiding how you feel, so I know it's probably a safe bet to say you feel exactly the same as I do."

His black hair falls into his face, and your hand itches to brush it away; so you let it. You're slow to comb through it and you raise yourself up a little to get closer to him as you rake through the dark strands, letting them twist and twirl around your fingers. "And what is it that you think I'm feeling right now?" You ask, meeting his stare straight on.

San flashes his killer smirk. "Attraction." He says confidently. He wedges his way into your personal space, his hands now resting on either of your thighs with his body between your legs. "Desire, maybe." He continues with a squeeze.

You know where this is heading- and you don't plan on stopping it anytime soon. Hell, you want it to go full steam ahead, because you've been waiting for this for four weeks too long.

San laces his fingers through yours and leans in to place a teasing kiss on your cheek, close to your ear. "Y/N, tell me something." He murmurs lowly, "Do you want this, too? Because if you still hate me as much as you did four weeks ago, I'll stop right now and walk out of the room."

You spring to life at his offer, throwing one arm around his neck and successfully trapping him into his position. Your faces are only a few inches apart now, the air between you radiating with electricity; you wrap your other arm around his shoulders and eliminate almost all of the space.

You have no idea where this bravery is coming from, but hey, you're not complaining.

"Don't you dare walk out on this." You say darkly, the words stealing away the last of San's sanity. "We're in too deep now, so if you're gonna kiss me, you better kiss me like you mean it." You threaten.

It's all the encouragement he needs to bring your lips to his- and the result is more incredible than anything either of you had imagined.

You don't melt together the way that you've heard others describe themselves doing. No, you and San are too passionate, too full of sparks- this kiss isn't melting.

It's blazing.

There's no uncertainty or gentle hesitancy in it; not even a little bit. From the moment his mouth is on yours, you kiss with an unmatched fervor and passion, feeling more like an explosion than like fireworks.

You're fighting fire with fire, and nothing has ever felt so good before.

You push and pull and meet right back in the middle in an exchange of powerful sparks, the kiss seeming to last for hours as you both fight to outdo the other in true 'fake enemies' fashion. San's fingers are digging into your hips and your hands are tugging on his shirt for some semblance of balance; everything is on fire, and yet everything is positively and passionately perfect.

You sigh against his lips in sheer bliss, your legs hooking themselves around his torso and bringing him impossibly closer. His fingertips skim across the hem of your sweater before slipping under it, and you nearly moan when he runs them up and down the curve of your back.

You've never felt this connected to a person before; almost as if from the moment you met, an invisible thread was strung between you and San, winding tighter and tighter over time until you were much too entangled to stop this.

You didn't ever want to stop this, anyways.

This kiss, this moment, and the last few whirlwind weeks with this man who's made of sweetness and pure sin- it all seems to be stitched together to create an emotion so strong that it rolls off of both of you in waves; an earth shattering romance that must be written in the stars themselves.

San mentally sends a thousand thanks to those lucky stars as he ends the kiss, regretfully pulling back to see what a mess he's made out of you.

He isn't disappointed either; your puffy pink lips and pretty glazed eyes make his already-tight pants feel three sizes too small, and he has to refrain from diving right back in for another soul-searing kiss.

He does his best to contain himself and leans his forehead against yours in a move he's cringed at every time it happens in the movies, though he finds it to be a lot less cliché with you.

In the aftermath of your passionate makeout, your eyes are gazing headlong into his own, and San swears he's never seen a more beautiful sight than this. He feels close, so close; his hands are pressed securely on the small of your back, though you sure as hell aren't thinking about that.

You're too busy thinking about how you finally have a name for that special look he's been giving you.

Adoration.

Sure, it's obviously mixed with a dash of unbridled lust and a bucketload of his signature sizzling attraction, but the adoring expression on his face says it all. Whether or not anyone knew things would happen this way, San has always adored you; you and your fiery temper, sweet smile, and ridiculous, incredible passion.

You feel yourself going shy again as he continues to stare at you, your blush already as deep as it can get, and you have half a mind to bury your face in his chest to escape the knowledge that your moment is beginning to fade away.

You don't want anything about the moment to fade, ever.

"Y/N," San's voice is soothing as he softly traces shapes into the skin beneath your sweater, "I hope you haven't changed your mind about wanting me to walk out."

You smile sheepishly, shaking your head. "No, nothing's changed." You manage to murmur around the tightness in your chest. It's not a bad tightness though; it's just the coil of raw emotion that's settling into your heart at the pure vulnerability of the last ten minutes.

"So does that mean we're still going to just keep doing what we've been doing this whole time?" He asks, tilting his head, "Or can I finally call you mine?"

Your lungs stutter briefly at his question, the word "mine" sounding so perfect to you when it falls from his mouth.

You don't answer immediately despite your inner self screaming at you to say yes. You have plenty of realistic things to consider, and anyone with a brain would say no in your position; but all of it is overshadowed by what you feel for San.

Both of your contracts, your fames and fanbases, and even your careers as idols are on the line, but you know with every beat of your heart that you'd risk all of that for this boy.

You'd risk anything to be his, you're sure of it.

"Yes." You agree quietly. "But only if it means that you're mine, too."

The smirk is back, and it turns the butterflies in your stomach into fucking pterodactyls at how effortlessly he can do that. It should be illegal for someone to switch the way San does, going from being a swoonworthy sweetheart to looking like a sexual fantasy on legs in the blink of an eye.

"I thought that was a given, babe." His tone has returned to its usual cockiness, but instead of getting on your nerves, now it just sounds plain hot. He gives you a mischievous wink as he says, "After all, it takes two to tango."

You don't bother hiding your laugh while you slide off of the cosmetics table; and you're still laughing at him when you walk out of the unsupervised dressing rooms hand in hand, feeling like it was meant to be this way all along.

In the back of your mind, you wonder if a mere twenty-three days is too soon to call it love.

You don't think so.

Day of Collaboration Stage - 4:30 PM

You hadn't seen San all day.

Today was the end of your promotions, and in three short hours, you'd be dancing together on a stage in front of the whole world, doing the moves you'd spent more time rehearsing than you'd spent sleeping throughout the last month.

You were on edge, to say the very least.

Currently, you were sitting in your designated room at the site of the event, staying as still as possible while being attacked with makeup brushes from all angles.

You would normally have a conversation with the group of people pampering you; but the desire to see San was making it hard to focus on talking about the weather or finding out the latest gossip.

You and San had shared three more kisses since the other night. Two of them were in the studio during rehearsal when Deojun left the room, and the third had been in the doorway of the building last night, when you and he had said goodbye after your final practice.

Your body was aching to see him. It wasn't that you just wanted to kiss him again (though you won't object to a kiss either); but you longed for some reassurance, for the steadiness you felt from a hug or even just the simple look he gave you that made all of the doubts and worries disappear in its wake.

"Mimi," You call to your most trusted manager, "has anyone heard from KQ since lunch?"

Your team giggles at your request, and Mimi gives you a fond smile as she shakes her head. "No dear, I'm sorry. We'll be sure to tell you as soon as they contact us though."

You nod quickly and try to relax a little bit, willing your hands to loosen their grip on the arms of your chair. If your stylists can sense how jittery you are, they don't let on; they continue to chatter mindlessly as they get you ready for tonight's much-anticipated performance.

*

On the other end of the building, San is only one brain cell away from calling your company and asking them if he can finish getting ready with you- because the seven lively boys crowded around in his room are becoming very, very distracting.

"Mingi, for the last time, please don't mess with my costume." The dancer chides his tall friend, who ducks his head and mumbles an apology.

The redheaded leader, Hongjoong, is trying to help San keep peace in the chaos that began when Yunho decided to twerk in the hallway- but reigning in the band of childish idols proves to be a challenge when his best friend Wooyoung steals his phone and tries to guess his password so he can text you, the mystery girl.

"Sannie!" Wooyoung pouts, "Won't you at least give me a little hint? I promise I won't text her anything too embarrassing."

Before he can answer, the oldest boy, Seonghwa, snatches the phone from Wooyoung and hands it back to its owner. "Woo, don't be a burden. Let San finish getting ready." He scolds. Wooyoung sighs dramatically and skips over to the lone couch in the dressing room to bother its occupants, Yeosang and Jongho; San's arguably more level-headed friends.

San's manager pays no mind to the loud group wreaking havoc and continues with prep, swiping on the finishing touches to the stage makeup and doing a final fluff of his hair.

The manager steps back to survey her work and smiles, already gathering up her things and packing away the tools. "You're all set San, try to keep your hands away from your face and hair. Good luck tonight." She says, promptly retreating from the noisy group and closing the door behind her.

The moment the manager leaves, Kim Hongjoong is standing behind San's chair and crossing his arms, staring him down in the mirror. The question leaves his mouth before anyone can stop him.

"San," His tone is demanding, "no more vague answers. I wanna know straight up if you're into this girl or not, and don't you dare try to beat around the bush."

San gulps heavily, not expecting to get drilled about you so soon today. He should've known better though- after all, he's always been horrible at keeping secrets from his team.

He takes a deep breath before finally confessing to his leader, "Yes, I'm into her. More than I've ever been into anyone." He admits, still trying not to make it obvious how deep his feeling for you run.

But he can't help the foolish grin that crosses his face as he continues to say, "She dances with more passion than any girl I've ever worked with, and you should see the way she looks at me when she doesn't think I'll notice. You'd never pick on me again if you danced with her like I do."

He shuts his mouth before any more mushy words can make it past his lips; but the damage is already done. Choi San has completely blown his cover, letting everyone know exactly how often you've been on his mind- or rather, his heart.

Wooyoung and Mingi both stop what they're doing at the outburst and stare at San, jaws dropping. Park Seonghwa seems frozen in his seat, Yunho and Jongho's heads both snap up at the same time, and even cool, unbothered Yeosang turns off his phone and raises one eyebrow.

"Somebody's majorly fuckin' whipped." Yunho mutters under his breath. Seonghwa only halfheartedly nudges him for the comment, and San feels his ears burn from the intense scrutiny of his seven best friends, all eyes turned to him.

It's too late to backtrack now.

"Shut up, Yunho." San whines, shoulders slumping with defeat. Wooyoung's triumphant smirk goes unnoticed in the mirror as San exposes his humongous crush on you, not even trying to deny it anymore, and Mingi sighs loudly knowing he'll have to cough up $15 to Wooyoung once the night is over.

"So it's true then?" Seonghwa voices what everyone must be thinking, "You and the mystery girl? Are you... are you dating her?" His voice lowers on the word dating, and Hongjoong holds his breath, suddenly not quite as playful as he was before.

He knows Choi San is a wonderful person, and that the last thing he'd ever do would be something that intentionally hurts the group. But he also knows that the boy tends to let his heart run away with his passion; and if he's in a secret relationship behind their backs, then there's more at stake than just the dating ban contract.

Thankfully, San's eyes widen and he shakes his head side-to-side. "No, I'm not! It's not like that! I swear, we really aren't together. I'd never hide something like that from you guys." He states honestly.

It's not a lie, either. Despite the kisses and touches that he's shared with you lately, and the heated confrontation after the dress rehearsals, he truly isn't in any official relationship at the moment.

But that doesn't mean he has no desire to be in one with you.

He knows what's at risk, of course he does; but even so, he knows that once the dust settles and the cameras are no longer pointed at him, he wants to be by your side long after the collaboration is finished.

He wants to be yours just as badly as you want to be his. And tonight, he's determined to prove it.

Yeosang sees the confidence flickering in San's expression and nods his head, hiding a small smile of pride. "Go get her, San. We'll all be rooting for you."

And with those words of encouragement, San is dashing out of the room like a man on a mission- a mission to see you.

*

It takes an hour of discreet texting while you're being pampered to death for San to come up with a valid excuse to see you.

You eventually agree that he'll interrupt your prep to do one more walkthrough of your ending scene; but you both know that it's just an excuse to have a little more time together before the stage, and that knowledge makes you giggle like a schoolgirl when San messages you.

Fireboy: wish me luck getting past ur managers !!

Your grip relaxes on your chair when you finally hear a knock at your door. Mimi shoots right up to answer it, and her polite smile grows mischievous when she sees who's on the other side.

"Hello there, Mr. Choi," Mimi greets, "how can I help you?"

San blinks and clears his throat. "I, uh, I'm here to go over a few steps with Y/N." He doesn't sound overly convincing, and you hide a chuckle with the palm of your hand. "Just to make sure we've got everything right before the performance, you know?"

Your lead manager shares a look with the other girls on your prep team, opens the door wider, and beckons for everyone else to leave.

"We'll give you some space to rehearse. Come find me if you need anything, Mr. Choi." Mimi tells him with that same smirk painted on her face as she practically tugs San the rest of the way into the room. They all go at once, leaving you sitting alone in your snazzy chair when they close the door behind them.

You glance at him with a shy smile, peering beneath your newly mascara-coated lashes at the handsome sight in front of you.

San is styled in a costume very similar to the one he wore for the performance video- black pants, a red harness belt, and a billowy long-sleeved white shirt with three buttons undone at the top. It takes everything in you to keep your jaw from dropping; though you don't really need to worry about it since San is having no problem openly staring at your legs.

But you can't blame him for looking, because you think your legs are a hundred percent worth staring at in the pretty red swing dress that you'll be wearing tonight.

"My eyes are up here, buddy." You snap your fingers playfully, and he meets your gaze with a boyish grin.

"Sorry, Y/N." He's not sorry in the slightest.

You push yourself up from your chair and cross the floor to where he stands, his back resting against your dressing room door. "What do you really need?" You ask him, stopping when he's an arm's length away.

He doesn't hesitate to pull you the rest of the way into his embrace and loops his arms around your middle, all but sweeping you off of your feet.

"This." He says, tone leaving no room for debate.

He kisses you swiftly, not even giving you a moment to breathe before his lips are on yours and he's softly tracing patterns on the fabric of your shirt. It's a sweet kiss; slow and languid, as if you have all the time in the world, but still heavy with meaning and want.

"San," You mumble, "I don't really think-"

"I'm not gonna ruin your hair, Miss Priss." He instantly answers your halfhearted concern and is back to kissing you, tongue sliding hastily along your bottom lip. It's enough to give you just a taste of what you want; but you remember that your entire prep team is probably listening outside of your room, and you have more to worry about than a messed up hairdo.

You move away to save your makeup- an action that ends up taking every ounce of your willpower to do- and press a lingering peck to his cheek. "You're cute, San. Was that all you came here to do though?"

He stops an embarrassing blush from rising onto his cheeks and clears his throat again, face turning serious.

"I actually did come to talk to you about something," He admits, taking your hands in his. "I wanted to check in with you to see how you're feeling about tonight's stage. Are there any fears of crowds or cameras that I should know about?"

Your smile droops slightly and his grip tightens, his hands warm on yours and giving you the courage to voice your concerns.

"I, um..." You manage to get out, "I've never performed a dance like this before and... well, I'm really nervous and worried. I don't know if I'll be able to pull it off well enough."

You purse your lips as you add, "And as ironic as it is to say this, even though I'm a dancer, I've never been too fond of big audiences."

"Y/N," San whispers softly, "Don't think about the crowds tonight. If we're gonna do this, then I'll need to you keep your eyes on mine, baby. Don't look away from me while we're dancing, okay?"

Your hands cling onto his the way your heart clings onto his words, hoping that they might chase away your nerves.

"I'll try." You tell him plainly. It's the truth- you don't know if you'll be able to ignore the countless eyes watching you or the cameras that will capture every move; but you're going to try. If not for yourself, then at least for him.

His face breaks into a gorgeous smile, making your heart flutter with something other than nervous panic. "Good." He says with finality, giving you one more intoxicating kiss while he makes sure he hasn't messed up your hair. "We're gonna do great, Y/N. I can feel it."

You hear your team gossiping and giggling out in the hallway, making you shake your head. He winks playfully at you and blows you a kiss before backing away.

"See you out there, Miss Priss." He teases when he opens the door. The nickname makes the edges of your lips turn upwards, and you smile against your will.

You roll your eyes but catch the kiss nonetheless. "Famous last words, Fireboy." You say as you shoo him off, and Mimi swoops back into the room, steering you back to your chair to sit you down. You're not able to summon enough words to describe your encounter when your prep crew asks; though you think the dreamy look on your face says it all.

You still aren't totally sure if you can pull the performance off tonight.

But you know that if your handsome partner is half as talented on stage as he is in rehearsals, then there's no reason for you to worry.

"Y/N, are you ready to go?" Mimi asks, "We need to meet up with KQ in the next twenty seconds if you want to be backstage on time."

You nod against your better judgment, allowing her to take your arm and gently guide you out of your dressing room and down the corridor. Your heartbeat is drumming a quick rhythm in your ears, your mind buzzing with last-minute what if's and oh no's.

Your heeled shoes alert the group of stagehands that's already begun to gather behind the sound booth to your presence, all heads turned towards you; and almost as if he could hear your internal doubts, Choi San sends you a thumbs up and winks, causing you to laugh.

"Are you ready to knock about three hundred socks off?" He asks as soon as you're in range, walking up to you. He unashamedly loops an arm around you, not seeming to care if the pose is a little too close for coworkers.

"It depends; are you ready to become the country's ultimate bias for the next month?" You tease back. He laughs playfully pokes your side before letting you go.

"Absolutely." He says without hesitating. You roll your eyes, mouth opening to crack another joke, but the stagehands start calling out directions before you can think of a good one.

It's almost showtime.

The realization is jolting, and scares the ever-living shit out of you more than any spider could.

Your heart immediately plummets to your stomach and your nerves return with full force. You all of a sudden don't feel quite as confident in your heels as you did, your ankles threatening to wobble and give away your weakness.

But as always, San swoops in to rescue your thoughts before you get too lost in them; strong fingers lace together with your trembling ones when he raises an eyebrow as if to say, get it together, y/n.

"Oh no you don't, princess. You don't get to chicken out on me now. We can't have you collapsing on stage, can we?" He taunts. You give him a familiar glare in return.

The simple question is enough to get your blood rushing as you recall all the times he's said things like that to you and meant it, all of the heated- yet pointless- fights you'd had during your first few weeks together. You remember how annoying he used to be with you; though looking back on it now, you suppose he was just doing it on purpose.

There was certainly blame to share for the childish spats you had during those twelve maddening days where you couldn't decide if you were enemies or lovers. But you think that, if given the chance, you wouldn't actually want to go back and redo it- you don't want it any other way.

You always secretly kind of liked the tension you had together.

A smile is pulling at your lips when the stage lights dim and the velvet curtain begins to rustle, San's hand still fully engulfing yours. He notices your change in demeanor and squeezes lightly, your attention turning to him and his stupidly handsome face.

"What's that look for?" He presses.

You shrug and squeeze his hand back, "Just thinking about how much I used to hate you, that's all."

You expect San's mouth to fall open in shock, for him to whine and say something like "you're not very nice!", but instead you get a dark chuckle and a meaningful stare.

"Come on, baby. You never really hated me, did you?"

You pretend to think about it, ignoring the burning blush on your cheeks. "I guess not," You sigh wistfully, "but I definitely couldn't stand you when we were starting out. You used to get on my nerves like no tomorrow, Fireboy."

The sounds from the crowd in the arena are floating backstage, but you don't even register the noise as you relive your memories with San.

He nods his head, "It's been an interesting few weeks with you too, Y/N. I don't know how I missed what was really there for so long; I must've been such an ass to you. At least now we're making up for lost time..." He trails off with a suggestive smile, detaching his hand from yours when a manager pops up out of the blue.

You nearly curse- because now you really want to make up for lost time and kiss him until you're breathless- but the manager grabs both you and your partner by the arm and drags you to stand over two red x's in the middle of the stage, and you sense the panic rising up in spite of your handsome distraction.

"Two minutes until your cue, you two. Are you both fully prepared?" The manager interrupts to check on you, and your mind boggles as soon as you hear how much time is left.

Two minutes?

How could there only be two minutes left? And weren't you kissing San in your dressing room just a moment ago? It feels like the seconds are flying by, the hours and minutes blending together in your nervous haze.

San's eyes dart to you and his tongue comes out to sweep over his lower lip; something you'd find desperately attractive if not for your frantic inner dialogue. "Yes, thank you." He bows slightly and the manager scurries off, allowing San one more moment to have you all to himself.

He can detect every ounce of anxiety in your eyes when they meet his, and he cups your face in his palms, the sweet gesture not allowing you to duck away from him.

"Y/N, what did we talk about earlier?" He prompts you with a tone that's uncharacteristically soft. Your lips form an adorable pout when you try to find an answer, testing San's ability to resist you.

"Umm... we talked about not getting nervous?" You attempt. He shakes his head, placing a single chaste kiss on your lips while no one can see you.

"No, not quite. I told you that when you get nervous, you'll need to focus on me. Right?" He tilts your chin up with one finger, "Didn't I say to keep your eyes on me when we dance?"

You're taken aback by the authoritative edge to his voice, but whatever the cause for it is... it works.

You blink and respond, "Yes. I will, San, I'll try."

He breaks into a grin that sends butterflies to your tummy for an entirely different reason. "That's all there is to it, then. Any time you aren't confident, just look straight at me and I'll take the lead."

You aren't sure why the phrase is so comforting, but you're nodding your head anyways, reassured just enough to keep your anxious doubts at bay.

"Okay." You whisper.

And before you have time to fully process what's happening, the directors and operators are flying to their booths around the two of you and the curtains rustle one last time, the din of the workers backstage going completely quiet when the lights go out and San takes you into his arms.

"Cue!" You hear Mimi say from the wings, along with what sounds like "Knock 'em dead, Y/N!"

You feel like your nerves are going to get the best of you when the curtain starts to lift, positive that they'll overtake your body and freeze your limbs solid.

But they never do, and you know exactly why.

It's because when the spotlight lands on you and San, you're already in position, and his eyes are staring confidently back into your own.

Almost like he's daring you to break away.

"Game on, Fireboy." You say under your breath.

The beginning notes float through the speakers, and the spotlight flares to life, trained on you and your partner as the music fills your bodies.

One, two, three... concentrate. You hear Jung Deojun's voice in your head when you spring upwards, officially beginning your dance. Feel the heartbeat of the music like it's your own.

Your hands grasp at San's shirt, your legs carrying out each move with perfect poise, and you're absolutely, 100% sure that every member of this audience can blatantly see the desire that burns in his eyes as he spins you into your mark.

A spark of pure confidence makes its way into your system, giving your arms the strength to wrap around your partner and let go of his collar, and the complete trust you have in him is the only thing that makes the next move remotely possible.

Your mind flashes back briefly to day thirteen, when you'd first successfully done the lift. You'd jumped into San's waiting arms with more trust than anyone would've guessed you had for him, surprising even yourself.

You remember how hot his hands had been on your sides when he picked you up gracefully, how flustered his touch had made you back then- but you also remember how proud you'd been of finally letting go and giving him the reins.

You feel just as proud now as you were then when he lifts you; you're weightless, flying like a fiery phoenix in the air with San twirling you around, and you can almost hear the collective gasp when he lays you down, sinking effortlessly into the one move that's always turned your mind into putty.

It's the move that took you two entire days of rehearsal to conquer, and holy fuck was it worth it.

San's got a shit-eating smirk on his face as he controls his hips while balancing above you, doing that roll with his lower body while keeping his legs in the air, and you get so lost in his burning stare that you almost forget to do the floor work you've practiced so often.

"You're doing so well for me, Y/N." He whispers for just you to hear, the words hot against the skin of your neck, and your eyes fall shut momentarily at the sensation.

Then he rolls up in one fluid motion while tugging you with him, and you surge straight into the next step: something Deojun had described as taking a classic foxtrot and adding a pinch of 'spice' to it. It'd be scandalous if it wasn't choreographed.

You sway to the pulsing rhythm as you glide across the stage hand-in-hand, and the dazzling lights are no match for the fire that's crackling to life between you and him. You never expected the flames to make it to the stage- but you're glad it did, because right now, it's helping you to dance with more passion than you were even sure you possessed.

His arms circle your torso sensually and you rock together like starstruck lovers, one hand trailing a path down the side of your face; and the longer you dance, the less aware you are of the eyes watching your performance.

"How's it going, princess?" He murmurs hotly, doing a flawless tango with your body pressed firmly against his.

You rake one nail across the exposed skin from his shirt, making a mark just below his collarbone, and a feeling of satisfaction bubbles in your chest when he tightens his arms around you.

"Pretty damn good, if I do say so myself." You don't know where this courage is coming from, but you shoot him a teasing smile anyways, "What about you, Fireboy?"

He runs the palm of his hand all the way from the base of your spine to the back of your neck and bends you beneath his touch, your red lips parting when he moves into a perfect dip.

Your arm is slung around his shoulder, and it takes a lot of self-restraint for you not to kiss him senseless when he raises an eyebrow and responds, "It couldn't get any fucking better than this, baby."

San has always known exactly what words to say to set you ablaze.

There's a simmering fire in his touch as he pulls you out of the dip and the tempo quickens, leading you into what you can't believe is already the last chorus of the song.

Have you really been dancing for almost six minutes now?

"Are you ready for the finale?" You ask lowly, unable to hear if he says anything once you're sent spiraling across the floor.

But when you meet back up like lovers who can't bear to be apart, he leans in to tell you cockily, "I was born ready, Y/N." You suppress an eye roll at the statement, your heart fluttering nonetheless as he puts his hands on your hips and swings in step with you.

San's hands grip you tightly as he pulls you against him, your mouths hovering tantalizingly close together when he guides your arm up to skim the curve of his neck. The sensual music drifts through the arena in time with your movements, each step flowing smoothly and each touch driving you wild as you perform your finale with your hearts on your sleeves.

You've never felt this before Choi San; you've never experienced such an intense desire for someone the way you're desperate for every brush of his skin against yours.

You slide slowly out of his arms and make your way down, down his body and to the floor, taking your sweet time walking your fingers down his chest as you sink to your knees on stage; the sight of you in such a compromising stance earns you an earful of traumatized murmurs from the crowd, but you pay them no mind.

Nothing else matters when San's knees hit the stage floor three beats later, hands tangling in your hair and pulling you close enough to give the cameraman a run for his money.

All that matters in that instant is San- his touch, his gaze, and the dance that feels like it was made just for you and him.

"That... was amazing." You comment breathlessly, careful not to give any wandering eyes a chance to read your lips. He nods and says nothing, letting his fiery eyes do all the talking for the both of you.

The moment feels incredibly intimate as the music fades out, and you're breathing the same air as your partner, only separated by an inch at the most; you want nothing more than to grab him by his too-damn-sexy shirt and make out until your lips are swollen.

But you can't do that, because you're still somehow on stage with him, crouching in a sensual pose in front of hundreds of people.

The last notes float away and you're immediately met with deafening cheers, roses and carnations already beginning to litter the platform. You're shocked by how much your performance seemed to affect the audience; but it makes you smile wide, your cheeks aching when a group of girls start chanting your name, and you feel like you're on cloud nine.

The MC's voice booms over the speakers as the crowd whistles and yells, "What an incredible performance from Choi San of Ateez and Y/N of Indigo! Let's have another round of applause for the stars of tonight's show, everyone!"

The clapping continues, following you and San off of the stage and back behind the wings as you're rushed into a hug from Mimi. She shakes your shoulders wildly, eyes shining with what looks like happy tears; she congratulates you over and over, all but crushing your lungs with her excited hug.

"You did it Y/N!" She squeals, "We're all so proud of you, honey!"

When you turn to face San, a group of boys approaching the wings from behind him catches your eye, looking more like a blur than a band. One blonde boy in particular zips ahead of the others and catapults himself into San, arms latching onto him like a leech.

"Woo, what the hell?" Your unsuspecting partner exclaims, hugging him back nonetheless.

"You fuckin' killed it, man!" The blonde screams. The rest of the group engulfs San into a huddle and say the same thing, not paying any attention to the manager trying to remind them that idols shouldn't curse.

You recognize the seven rowdy men to be San's group, Ateez; you watch on with a fond smile as they praise his performance, slapping him on the back and ruffling his hair.

He fights his way out of their embrace and rolls his eyes, brushing himself off as if he didn't enjoy their congratulations.

The blonde boy notices you standing to the side and a sly grin crosses his face, head tilting to the side.

"And who might this beautiful lady be, Sannie?" He questions mischievously. You feel yourself blush beneath his curious stare, fiddling with the material of your dress, but San walks over to you in a few short strides and wastes no time in using two fingers to lift your chin upwards.

"This is Y/N," He says with a voice that reminds you of spiced cider, "the one I've been telling you guys about."

Your eyes widen. "You never said you talked about me..." You trail off at the flicker of want in his expression, mind blanking out.

He smirks back at you like he knows something you don't. "You never asked, princess."

You don't feel the seven pairs of clueless eyes on you when San brings your face closer to his; you don't even bother to remember that Mimi is still right behind you, nor do you care that the collaboration team is probably just around the corner.

All you can feel is San- his presence overpowering your senses and blocking out anything that isn't him.

"Choi San," You murmur dangerously, "if you don't kiss me right now, I think I might go insane."

He ignores the chorus of annoying ooh's from his friends and rests his other hand on the small of your back, tethering you to him. Your eyelids start to lower in expectation, hands finding their way into his hair; and you can feel his smirk long before your lips even touch.

"That won't be necessary, darling." He mutters as you finally, finally collide, every nerve ending on fire as he kisses you like a man starved. Wooyoung's wolf whistle falls on deaf ears as you kiss with more meaning than any romance movie couple you've seen on screen; your lips clash and melt and push and pull with a spark that only true dancers possess, the world around you disappearing instantly.

Even Mimi, your dedicated manager, has nothing to say to you when you eventually break apart, San's heated gaze keeping you trapped in his arms, and he can tell you've got tunnel vision too when your eyes never leave his.

Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest- but the pace is steady and sure, as if you've been kissing this man in front of your superiors all of your life. You're utterly entranced by the look of love and adoration that dances- pun intended- in his dark eyes; and in the split second it takes to realize the weight behind this kiss, you decide that you want this to last forever.

You're ready to be his.

"Y/N," San says softly, "I know we've got a lot to talk about if we want to make this work... but I can't walk away from you tonight without asking you one thing."

You raise an eyebrow, "What would that be?"

He traces your jawline with the tip of his finger, leaving sparks in its wake.

"Miss Priss," He says teasingly, the nickname stirring up your insides, "will you officially be mine?"

You reach up to press a swift, firm kiss to his lips, sealing your decision better than words ever could. You pull away with a grin that matches his own, and he thinks he's died and gone to heaven when you answer him, "I thought you'd never ask."

The seven boys watching the ordeal clap obnoxiously, cheering just as loud as the audience had been a few minutes ago, and San pulls you in to rest his forehead on your own.

"After all, you said it best yourself, Fireboy," You meet his stare confidently, "it takes two to tango."

And after twenty-five days of wanting and waiting, playing this game of cat and mouse- you finally get what you've truly desired since the moment you met Choi San.

You get to call him yours.

the end.

[captainkurosolaire]

Prompt #11 ~ Reclaimed Living

♫Overpowered♫

Another cleansing of the soul came with reinvigorated steps loudly revisiting a place of his bearings. His latest and most formidable enemy awakened him from a ghostly remnant he served. He wasn't the same. The last Crew finding them behind his follow weren't the same that collapsed, or buried with his old ship. The rover returned to a rancid pub front-steps. In a dead and remote location, where used to be celebration, came to cease. Now it was just nesting drunken sailors who held no direction. Majority of the Crew that served a Captain were family members, other associates, all drowned and dead brought by his endeavors, curses, afflictions. It was never easy to confront a past, but proper healing cannot begin without it, that's where his wisdom had found of recent date. It was the most despicable and deplorable thing a feeling could present in a leader. The people under your helm perished but the Captain didn't go with his ship and men. Although all held belief he remained deceased, this would be soon uncovered in a twist. He unstrapped his holstered revolver. Swallowed nerves. Then proceeded. Inside were grievers those at the bottom of bottles, they felt too. Sapped of motivation. Chained, jailed, life had no meaning. The peers that died, killed them too. Outsiders didn't come to this enclosed location. So as creaking old planks of wood were heard they drew alert. Until a stoppage. A shadow between the doors. Even in their rancid and intoxicated states they drew arms. The two loose doors flung open as the perished ghost became alive. In a series of insurmountable clicks and aim's hundreds of trained gun's re-positioned. Dirks, brass knuckles, a plethora of last resistance shown. If they were to be raided, they'd go with bangs.

"Minfilia's oversized tits, blimey o' bastard... I don't believe it. Ye chose a poor choice t' ruse us n' appearance." They didn't follow a leader. Each of their voices left were who seized first in their mass. The interloper had them cautiously on standby. "Nay. It b' me." The Seeker discarded his only means of defense and slid a kick over. They had the right to take their shots. Tension was stacked in disbelieving soaring heights. Each still felt a beguile footman who stood at their gate. "Ye inconceivable fool. T'is a reason why, Dead men tell no tales..." Cocking mechanisms of flintlocks surged. Another chimed in when Captain went to peace. "Best ye tell a helluva' tale. Of what ye live..." This served a code, a message in a bottle, but parchment became waterlogged, useless. If there was ever a moment etched within his time, to become unspoken, now was it. He would be a preaching to a choir. Chewing and clacking his gums, he'd lower the tricorne to his heart. A ferocity lit in his hues, rebellious. "From conception we're met with opposition. There ain't a single-choice upon what we calls origins being dealt, whether by some invisible puppeteer, deemed an author, or some putrid sack ov' excuse-spinner." Revving up, "Educated, groomed, taught t' be the same way, that results t' a history never ending but repeats, wondering why we live under th' same shadows ov' all our dated descendants who fell. Constantly wishing or reflecting back, things were simpler, better, desiring do-overs. No-one looks forward t' a clock, only backwards when bloomed." The fulfillment of dreaming in youth, gets devoured, in due age, later when matured. What could've been, spawns. He took brash steps even while being trained on with blunderbusses. "Thrust into environments where eating metal, doing whatever it takes to survive! --- They call us problems." Speaking out to the rebellious that still swelled, "Sentence t' unexplained diseases, festering rot n' us. We start giving into instability, alongside insecurities, it racks us into a trail of bottomless failures, believing we've nothing of importance... Told by our closest endearing whispers, who mutter the same air of our doubting thoughts... It encourages demons, t' vices, to a point, a visit only ov' ferryman can accept us." He registered and conveyed a lot of personal emotion. "Bein' pirate everyone thinks our take ov' freedom means pure unadulterated chaos, anarchy, destruction. To be feared... Truth it means we're standing against what governs us all, growing bone's where they've gone missing." Showing teeth and taking a stand on top of a tavern table between, the disheartened. "Authority, Order! These things are presented as principal things that are required to function, n' keep peace... But it's artificially made-up. Think to yourselves! How many label's have been created to categorize yourself? To try separating you from being an individual, just so someone can stand-out against on a perch! you don't even know how t' stand anymore! ...Thinking by being on your two-legs that's all? You b' so far drowned, you cannot impose those who wear their crowns, cause you accept it as all-purpose... O' if a mass-herd flocks, it's natural to' fall in that line and try to be included at all costs, thinking it'll grant you an audience, notice, give you validation." His speech began boiling up, resonating something in a few, they became domesticated too. "Words, like 'martyr', 'rebel', thrown around. Placed to maintain control, they subjugate, they'll bend rules, whatever it takes! They'll use their fancy speeches t' rile you into a false-sense to stay kneeled over, stating it's a 'we' or 'us', ignoring really they're out their own business." He presented as their so called pirate king was faceless, removed, abandoned all the free-spirited left. That continued with the powers in place. "Same almighty forces that are throwing us into forgotten. Trying to remove us, are the some who were us, once..." The red-coats weren't someone to be all idolized. Innocent's rain rampant on

those, it was not-self sacrificial, they were govern. "Free. Isn't exclusive. It's within us all, a lifestyle, something that any are capable of taking with zero discrimination, no hierarchy, or diversities preventing you at some barrier for entry! Reach down! Battle against your illnesses, wounds, oppressors! Wobble on your soles and fight to stand against what you disagree with, crawl even, gnarl at that hilt! Die fer passion, what makes you feel who, who gives you it! That's what actual breathing looks like! This IS yer rightful treasure, yer CLAIM. Get it back into your hands and you'll know this is a world you own!" Climatically blew through in his renegade passion. The very air he exhaled into these words weren't laced, they came from personal, raw emotion! Casting away not only to his own liberation but his former folks. "This is living's meaning!" Reaching down grabbing a bottle and smashing it against his arm into a tearing cut, bloodied arms formed outwardly, like wings he threw his arms. Drops of resolve and armed weapons fell in unity. 'The Captain ov' the Five Seas' approached them, and said, I am alive, but so are all those who died, they're in me! I haven't lost this War, It's only getting started. Waves, winds, change, so I've adapted. Here, I am.'

The lawless bellowed out an uproar outcry and jolly, shooting their guns into the ceilings. Smashing and slugging each other with haymakers, drinking and thrusting into debauchery, they were free, once again! Label's no more! Defined, never again! Each saw their passion, the moment was seen! What went obscured. Captain leapt into the brawl, of celebration, he was home, alive! The storms were still remaining but he found many places to call shelter when they came.

[rainbowoverdragon]

Thoughts on Ryo

This is an analysis of Zane Truesdale/Ryo Marufuji, focusing on his mindset as well as his relationships with other people. As I am basing this off the original Japanese version for standardization, all names likewise are their sub counterparts.

When Sho obtains a rare and powerful card from his brother, he believes he has it made. After this, Sho finds the courage to confront his bully in a duel. So after he draws Power Bond, Sho thinks he has it made. He gloats to the bully, insulting him, making outlandish claims out of the arrogant belief that he can't lose. Before he can use it, Sho is interrupted by the very person who gifted him that card. "You aren't worthy to use that card yet. Until you have what it takes to be called a duelist, I declare that card off-limits.'' Devastated by this statement, Sho proceeded to view himself as incapable of dueling for years; unworthy of Power Bond. It’s an establishing character moment for both Marufuji brothers, setting Ryo up as an impossible standard to reach in Sho’s eyes. However, for Ryo, his intentions are revealed to be more well-intentioned than Sho is led to believe. In episode 8, Sho realizes that Ryo wished for Sho to treat his own power with respect: towards both his opponent and his high-risk high-reward cards. This constant cycle of good intentions and misplaced words leads to a negative feedback loop between the brothers that seems impossible to resolve. Ryo struggles to convey his own observations to others in a way that doesn’t come off as condescending. Sho cannot take things past face value, and places his brother upon a pedestal that he cannot surpass. After all, how can you beat perfection itself?

During his years in Duel Academy, Ryo is the embodiment of perfection. He is the opposite of his brother, never missing a single mark in any area. Everyone constantly refers to Ryo as “perfect”, from his teachers to his peers to even the Kaiser himself. He even soundly beats Judai in the first duel they have together, a feat seen as impossible by the audience. But it’s this very idea of perfection that haunts Ryo, as he believes that perfection implies stagnation. If Ryo has perfect scores in class, there is no way to improve them. If he reached the peak of his potential in one duel, that means it’s all downhill from there. His greatest fears are confirmed when he loses to Edo in the Pro Leagues, starting a chain of losses that ruins his career beyond repair. Ryo is perfect. He is so perfect, that during his school years he never truly struggled against an opponent (Aside from Judai in Episodes 51-52 however he maintained the advantage for the majority of the duel). In fact, he suffered from the opposite problem. As Ryo is too powerful, he’d purposely hold back until his peers could unleash their trump cards against him. Only then did he defeat them with just enough power to avoid humiliation. His first loss wasn’t only his first loss, it was the first time Ryo found himself in a disadvantaged position. His inexperience with failure led to him associating the mere act of struggle with the idea of loss. Ryo’s inability to move past this is his own self-fulfilling prophecy. Being afraid of failure makes people play to not lose. Playing to not lose instead of playing to win causes chokes, which results in losses. Unable to break from this cycle, Ryo is abandoned by his sponsors. Which is why the idea of Underground Duels, a place where he can start over and regain his bearings is so enticing. At least, until they reveal the condition.

And at first, Ryo despises the Underground. He appeals to be released, he states it’s not what dueling is, it’s nothing like he could ever imagine. And how could it be? Ryo’s life is on the line, and for no good reason. The shock collars are there to make things fun for the audience, not for any other benefit! In his duel with Sho, who says that 'this isn't dueling', Ryo even admits he thought the same thing. It spits on the very concept of respecting your opponent. The collars humiliate you, egging you on to forget about the other person. And in general, is amoral (as well as a human rights violation). Underground Duels are almost always life or death, because nobody fights harder than people who are convinced they are going to die. And Ryo is convinced that if he duels the way that he always has, if he clings into his morals, he will die. His opponent, Mad Dog, purposely created a deck to counter him. So why should he respect him? Why should he not aim to win? Why can’t he aim to survive? After crawling from hell, nothing is the same for the Kaiser. Because every duel is another reminder that he survived. He is unable to see any match he takes for fun, every duel to him is life or death. In the real world, there are people who lose and wither away, and people who win and thrive. And by god, he wants to feel alive. He spent so long losing, something utterly unthinkable for the Kaiser of Duel Academy. Ryo was undefeated before, now he truly wishes to not experience it again. If forcing himself to feel that every fight of his is to the death, literally or mentally, then so be it. He continues dueling in the Underground, continues to utilize the shock collars he once despised. No matter what cost, health or mind, Ryo requires victory.

When Ryo is told that his health is failing from his shock collars, he doesn’t seek medical attention. Because to Ryo, being alive is more important than living. He transformed into Hell Kaiser achieved the great power that comes from becoming a monster, at the cost of self-destruction. He flirted with death, and finally has to pay the price. And he doesn’t care. As long as Ryo obtains what he wishes, he is happy. And what the Hell Kaiser wants more than anything else, is one last duel to surpass all others. Ryo would rather reach the limit of his capabilities, and die meeting them than waste away quietly to be forgotten forever. Thus he seeks Yubel, the strongest monster spirit in the Universe. If he meets an opponent of his caliber and 'shines' during the mattle, then he’d have nothing to fear in death. But he does. After entering his long-awaited match, Ryo admits to not wanting to die. He wants to live, he wants to leave a mark that can never be forgotten. Yet he doesn’t want to die. Ryo has achieved everything he wanted, shown the strongest he has been or will ever be. Before he duels Yubel, he comes to a revelation. At first, Ryo wished to fight the strongest being to win. He doesn't care anymore. Ryo is dying, win or lose the result is the same. Since he turned Hell Kaiser, Ryo only respected victory. The joy he obtained by knowing he survived another duel is utterly meaningless against Yubel. What happiness does he obtain knowing he survived….when he isn’t going to live to begin with? He understands that the duel itself is what makes Ryo feel alive, doing the most with what remaining time he has with his life. As Ryo tells Judai, his death is the end of the road for people who glorify power. And thus it’s no surprise that Ryo is taken out by the card he is associated with most: Power Bond. A card that lets you receive unthinkable amounts of power, at the price of self-destruction.

Out of all the people who save Judai from himself, the Kaiser’s impact is one of the most apparent. It takes someone who knows the suffering someone else goes through to achieve empathy, especially in Judai's case. Judai struggles with sympathy, as shown with his interactions with Sho in Seasons 1-3. Whenever Sho asks for help with his confidence, Judai gives him the helpful advice of "Don't be anxious!" Judai cannot comprehend being insecure with one's capabilities, thus he cannot help Sho directly. In contrast, Judai is more receptive to empathy. Manjoume's crisis in Season 1 revolved around the pressure others placed upon him to succeed. Judai deeply understands his strife, and helps him fight for himself. This is why Misawa's speech about accountability fails to help Judai utilize Polymerization. Misawa has no fundamental basis to understand Judai's feelings. In contrast, Kaiser's duel with Yubel awakens Judai's character growth. Ryo is Judai's cautionary tale, a warning of self-fulfilling prophecies. During the Graduation Duel, Ryo tells Judai that he possesses infinite potential compared to himself. This rings true in watching Ryo's belief of his own lack of capability to change, resulting in his inability to change because he destroyed himself beyond repair. In contrast, Judai has not fallen to this path. Watching Ryo's descent as well as his late realization means everything to Judai: especially someone so responsive to empathy. This is because they are mirrors of each other, to the point their character’s arcs are entirely parallel to one another. Both are idolized for the power they hold over others, both of them experience the loss of the pedestal they once stood upon. Both achieve the sharpest fall from grace (against an opponent with ‘Mad’ in their title), which leads to them glorifying their own power and abusing it against others. Despite their friends trying to help them, it is ultimately up to themselves to self-actualize their shortcomings. However it is Ryo, who thinks he cannot change, who succumbs upon his own revelation. And it is Ryo, who always believed in Judai’s infinite potential even in the Graduation Duel, who changes Judai’s path. Without Ryo, Judai would be unable to utilize his power responsibly. Because Judai now knows what happens to people who push themselves too far, just like how he used to. Power is not something to be afraid of or abused, but to use responsibly.

The Hell Kaiser doesn’t entirely work for others; he even states he fought Yubel out of selfish motivations. However, Ryo is also constantly associated with lighthouses. To the people that mean the most to him, Ryo is a light that tries to guide others to safety. However lighthouses are far away from the people they try to save, and thus it takes the initiative of others to help themselves after seeing the light from afar. This is shown by Ryo’s relationships with the people he’s closest to remaining fundamentally the same from his own side: regardless of his actual guidance being positive or negative. Ryo’s actions and intentions around Sho remain the same across both his younger self and Hell Kaiser: each time trying to guide Sho to become the best version of himself. "Until you have what it takes to be called a duelist, I declare that card off-limits."", is the devastating statement Ryo told Sho as kids. But Ryo believed his brother needed to understand true power in respect, guiding Sho away from arrogance and towards the light of good. His brother's weakness required defending. This concept is twisted on its head once Ryo becomes Hell Kaiser, who only views power or meaning in victory. Thus he employs the same tactic, because Ryo does not see the difference between restricting Power Bond to teach respect, and having Sho experience the same pain he did to ditch it.

Both Ryo and Hell Kaiser sing the same song. Ryo intends on ‘protecting’ his weaker brother by teaching him right from wrong. Both times, Sho and Ryo misunderstand each other. At first, Sho doesn’t comprehend the real reason why Ryo forbade Power Bond. The second time, Ryo doesn’t understand how Sho can cling to his own beliefs of respect even if he loses because of it. However, the one time Ryo’s words connect is when he saves Sho in season 3. And even then, it’s an admission of distance between the two. Ryo sees Sho’s pain inflicted by Judai far outweighs what Ryo had done to Sho. Thus Ryo advises Sho to follow Judai, since it’s what his heart truly desired all along. He then leaves, to force Sho into walking his own path. Ryo cannot spell out Sho's wishes any more than he does. And if Sho is alone, then he is forced to swim instead of sink.

Ryo’s association with lighthouses in canon directly correlates to Fubuki. As much as Fubuki is associated with darkness, Ryo is quite literally the light that shines through to him. When Fubuki was overtaken by Darkness in the first arc, we later find out that Ryo regrets being unable to find Fubuki no matter how much information and effort he scrounged up. Fubuki then replies that the mere act of trying saved him, as he could see Ryo’s feelings in spite of the darkness that consumed him. To Fubuki, Ryo is the lighthouse that guides people through the darkness. And when Fubuki is overtaken by the Darkness in an attempt to save Ryo from it, Ryo’s feelings once again vanquishes Fubuki from the dark. However, instead of the Kaiser saving Fubuki, Hell Kaiser explicitly protects him from Darkness. Because the two are friends, even after everything Ryo’s been through. This leads Fubuki to a revelation that no one else understands: Hell Kaiser is not fundamentally different from Ryo. Fubuki realizes that even as Hell Kaiser, Ryo respected Fubuki. Why else would he save him from Darkness? Indeed, every interaction of Ryo’s major interpersonal relationships are fundamentally the same. It’s simply his worldview that shifted. As much as Ryo wishes to respect others, he doesn’t think he can in a world where everyone must take advantage of their life to the fullest extent.

And Ryo, who cannot change because he thinks he cannot change, stayed as he was until it was far too late to be saved.

[dreamcatcherjiah]

PART 10

💞Tight Hearts (Idol!Hoseok x Reader)

Plot: The red string of fate was visible when our grandparents were children. They would play around, following the strings from one person to their soulmate and laugh happily when these two people inevitably found each other. It was a reason for happiness. But little by little, people stopped seeing the threads. In bad times, it was dangerous, it was a liability, so people stopped seeing them to protect each other from harm. When I was born, nobody saw them anymore, they just felt their soulmate. Anxiety, happiness, sorrow, love, the hearts of the soulmates are one, feel the same things, but it is almost impossible to find your soulmate, now that the threads cannot be seen.

Tight Hearts Masterlist

Part 10

Organising how many cars you would take became easier as this time there were eight people to be taken to Big Hit’s headquarters. Taehyung and Jungkook had shown up in the kitchen while you were on the shower and, just as you were turning the corner into the room, finished cleaning after eating. Apparently, their routine hadn’t changed a bit with you intruding in them. After another awkward round of introductions and some whispered greetings, Namjoon took the lead again and divided everyone into pairs to get into the cars when he got the go from the manager. Hoseok, always thoughtful, had charged your phone thinking that you would like to call in sick and tell everyone you were feeling okay and you hadn’t dropped half dead in the middle of some street… Which you had, but no one needed to know the full, gory details. Smiling, you didn’t think much of it as you rolled into the balls of your feet and pressed a small kiss to the apple of his cheek. Boastful peels of laughter surrounded the both of you as his bandmates witnessed the public display of affection, causing you to blush and hide your face in your hands; getting used to this noisy group of men was going to take some getting used to, more with their new hobby of making every little thing Hoseok or you did into the funniest joke they’d ever heard. Chancing a look at your soulmate, you relaxed seeing how he had taken the loud teasing in a good-natured way and was just hugging a laughing Taehyung to his chest. The environment around these men was refreshing, calming your anxious thoughts and bringing the first real smile that your soulmate hadn’t put in your lips. 

“Will you look at that! She can smile too!” Namjoon teased, throwing an arm around your shoulders and giving you a little shake, “I was starting to think this was going to be awkward once Jin Hyung ran out of jokes to tell you, Y/N. I know they’re bad but you can stop laughing after he drops the punchline, he likes you already!”

“YA!” Screamed the eldest, “she likes my jokes! And,” he added, turning his eyes on you and seeing how you still smiled genuinely at him, “I am not running out. They’re my natural talent, I was born with both my jokes and my handsome face,” he finished taking his hand in a grand gesture to his mouth and throwing a flamboyant air kiss in yours and Namjoon’s general direction. 

Jungkook threw himself at Jin and hung himself from the bigger man like an overgrown koala. The room descended into chaos as both of them play-fought and the rest of the guys either went for their phones to record the mock wrestling match or cheered them on. In the midst of their voices and bodies, Hoseok made his way towards you and took your hand in his. His presence did a good job of getting rid of any residual uneasiness you may have been feeling, the same way yours did away with Hoseok’s nervousness. You realised that part of what you had been feeling came from the man standing slightly behind you; even before the two of you met in person, you had noticed how he’d always put on a brave front, smiling even when his whole body wanted him to collapse and, perhaps without him knowing, he had relapsed into the same old routine: mask what he was feeling behind his happy-go-lucky persona. 

“Hey,” you whispered, keeping an eye out for the other six men in the room, you didn’t need them noticing such a private moment, “relax, whatever they say there, they’re not taking me anywhere,” you noticed as his body relaxed, his shoulders dropping a few inches, as the words registered in his brain, “whatever works for us.”

With a small tilt in the corner of his mouth, his hand tightened around yours and, as the rest of his brothers calmed down and Namjoon gave the last instructions, got closer to you until not only your hands were touching, but your arms as well. You fantasised with allowing your head to rest a while on his shoulder, breathing deeply and calmly so both of you relaxed a bit before facing what felt like a court that would decide on your future. Coming back to reality, you straightened your treacherous neck, which was nearly about to give into your secret wishes, and turning your head in his direction, smiled at how he was already looking at you. His eyes formed crescents, his feet started moving and he took you, hand in hand, to the car. 

Once the car door closed behind you, Hoseok put his arm around you, helping you get comfortable against his chest so that your head rested on his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, you felt as every last cell of your body tuned itself to Hoseok’s and you could finally breath again. His hand settled atop your head, his fingers buried deep, caressing your scalp and following the tresses of your hair to return again with its sweet ministrations.

“Thank you,” whispered Hoseok.

Not wanting to move and disturb the spell surrounding you both, you only hummed and nudged your cheek closer to his collarbone, as a way of asking him what he meant.

“They love you already, Namjoonie is so comfortable around you, even Yoongi Hyung told me while you were in the shower that I had found an excellent one… That’s a lot for him to say after such a short time, you know?” His voice was quiet, almost as if he had realised something and was at peace with it, “you didn’t have to be so accommodating, so trusting, and yet here we are. Just thank you.”

Throwing your arm around his torso, you hugged him as tight as you could and moved your head so that you could see him resting your chin against his collarbone.

“I don’t know what it is, but I feel like I would trust you with my life. No questions asked,” you chuckled darkly. At his raised eyebrow, you explained, “Does it feel like that for you too? Is it as natural for you as it is for me, the fact that I could very easily die to protect you?” After his nod, you laughed and continued talking, “This would drive my parents insane, if they knew.”

“You haven’t told them yet?” He asked, his hand stilling in your head. You could see some of the previous tension sweeping back into him and you hurried to make it disappear again.

“If these feelings of inadequacy I am sensing come from you, please, believe me when I say that it has nothing to do with me not wanting them to meet you. It’s just they’re not the typical parents. They wanted me to be independent since I was very young and now we aren’t really close.”

“But Y/N, not being close and saying that they would go insane if they found out you had a soulmate are two very different things,” he said, frowning. 

You sat up, pouting and looked at him through your eyelashes. He kept eye contact with you, matching your pout and crossing his arms over his chest. Huffing, you sat back and looked ahead while you mulled over what to say to him, what to tell him so that you’d satiate his curiosity.

“You know soulmates are little more than a myth nowadays, right?” You asked, he nodded and raised his eyebrow at you, so you’d continue, “While I was still living with them, my father was very vocal about what his thoughts on the bond were, he would say that us soulmates were mere parasites and that it was all a ploy from the government to rob us of our freedom…”

An indignant little shout reached you at the same time you felt Hoseok jump and turn to face you. His face was hard, set, his lips pouting while his cheeks and ears turned red with agitation. From the moment the topic was brought up, you knew Hoseok wasn’t going to like what you had to say. Everyone, absolutely every person in the world who knew what soulmates were, had an opinion on the matter; good or bad, that usually depended on the case and the personal experiences of every individual but, more often than not, people were VERY vocal about what a pity it was that soulmates were dying out. “With technology as advanced as it is today,” they’d say, “it is just sad that a system to find linked soulmates hasn’t been developed,” with a mellow smile, they would just continue about with their days and forget about the issue altogether. Which you, soulmates, couldn’t do. 

“I do not mean to badmouth your father, but that is such a simplistic thought process,” he said, dropping back against the seats. “To think that we have a choice in the matter is just plain ludicrous, and to imply that the government is trying to control people by making them match with their soulmates just shows how little information there really is about the bond. We aren’t like that, you and I.”

He reached for you, with his eyes closed and a troubled look on his face. You simply gravitated towards him, burying yourself against his puffy jacket, linking your arms around him. He sought comfort in knowing you were there, close to him and not leaving. 

“No, we are not,” you said, tightening your hold on his torso when a wave of worry and apprehension reached you through the bond, “but people don’t really know that. We are the only pair of soulmates I know of, it kinda is uncharted territory.”

“I don’t care how little they know as long as you get to keep me,” Hoseok whispered, so softly you thought you heard him wrong.

The thought made you stop all your musings and actually think about what your soulmate said. You would have expected to say something along the lines of “I can keep you” or “we can stay together”, but the sole thought of you possessing him, Hoseok, your sweet, caring and incredibly famous soulmate, made you feel a huge lump in your throat. 

“If I get to keep you?” You asked, looking up at him and finding him already looking at you.

“I can feel your uneasiness, maybe that was way over the line…” his insecurities were rolling off of him in waves, so strong it nearly gave you whiplash. Seeing how you weren’t answering, he swallowed and continued, “you know how our life is, you’re a fan. We… don’t get to… be normal. We don’t get to go on dates, enjoy the whole “get to know you”, mainly because we never have time. And I know that’s what we wanted but this place we’re in is very lonely. When my grandmother used to tell me about soulmates she would always say how she wholly belonged to my grandfather. As a child that didn’t make much sense, but lately, when my body hurt and I felt how miserable we both were… I just wanted to be yours, to have someone that didn’t always expect me to be okay and would just allow me to be… theirs…”

Somewhere between him saying how lonely he was and telling you he was yours, you had started silently crying, big tears leaving your eyes and staining his jacket. His thumbs suddenly cleaned them off your cheeks, carefully and sweetly, transmitting an incredibly warm feeling that surrounded you both, letting you know without words how sorry he was for making you cry, for overstepping the line he had set himself as his limit. 

“I am so sorry for making you sad,” he whispered, leaving a small kiss between your eyebrows.

“So sweet but so clueless,” you hiccuped. At his pout, you chuckled and threw his arms around his neck. Once your face was hidden safely against his shoulder you told him; “I am so sorry you were feeling lonely. And you don’t have to say sorry for telling me how you feel, ever. I was just taken aback, I would have never imagined you’d want to belong to someone you just met…”

“You don’t have to say anything, I am sorry I sprung this on you,” you tightened your hold on his neck, almost chocking him and making him stop.

“I told you we’re in this together, I’ll have you if you’ll have me. That’s my condition,” his arms finally sneaked around your waist and fused your bodies together, ending with any guilt or inadequacy you may have felt.

“Thank you,” he whispered, nesting his face between your neck and your shoulder.

The rest of the trip to BigHit Headquarters passed in either companionable silence or bursts of laughter, which made time fly and, before you knew it, the cars were entering the company’s underground parking lot.

Your car’s door flew open and the maknae line piled inside, looking frantic only to leave the car as soon as they entered.

“They’re alive and decent, Hyung! We’re good to go!” Screamed Taehyung, his black hair hiding his eyebrows and drawing even more attention to his radiant square smile when he turned to continue teasing Hoseok.

As everyone left their cars and walked towards the elevators, manager Sejin hung back to give you a small plastic card with your name on it. He told you that one was provisional, you’d have to give him a recent picture and your full name so he could make one for you. He put a hand on your shoulder telling you to relax and kept walking, leaving you, Hoseok and the rest of BTS alone to ride the elevators to the CEO’s office. The rest of the managers rode together in a different elevator, leaving the eight of you alone. If someone wanted to comment on how Hoseok and you seemed to be joined at the hip, or how neither of you seemed willing to let go of each other’s hands, no one said a word. 

“We are going to be there with you both the whole time,” said Seokjin, giving you a sweet smile, “if you hear something you don’t like or don’t agree with, don’t be afraid to speak up. We’ll all back you up.”

“But,” you doubted, until Hoseok tightened his hold on your hand to let you know it was okay, “won’t you get in trouble with the company?”

Jin huffed and looked at you as if you were the most innocent person in the world.

“I…” he started.

“DON’T FOLLOW WHAT THE AGENCY SAYS,” completed the rest of the men, as if they were so used to hearing that same sentence that they couldn’t help completing it themselves.

It served you all to relief the tension as you all dissolved into peals of laughter and you let yourself rest against Hobi’s body. His warmth was a balm for your nerves and, as the door opened to ease you all into the big hall, you felt so much more supported than you had ever felt in your life. These seven tall men, would have your back.

Nocking on the light wooden door and being allowed in, you followed Namjoon and Hoseok and found yourself face to face with a small, smiling woman who wrapped her arms around your shoulders. After a few seconds you realised the woman was Hoseok’s mother, his father and sister standing a bit behind the woman hugging you, next to a bigger man that can’t be any other than Bang PDnim. They smiled at you and Hoseok’s father neared him to give him a light slap on the shoulder.

“Welcome,” said the CEO to all standing, “I thought we’d be more comfortable sitting on the sofas, I prepared some light sweets in case you haven’t had any breakfast,” he focused now on you and smiled. “It’s so nice to meet finally meet you, Y/N. I was so sorry not to meet you yesterday, but I thought it would be better to let you rest. Please sit down and we’ll talk for a bit, then you’ll go with the boys so they show you around and practice for an hour or two. Is that alright?” He asked the rest of the room. When he got a positive answer out of them, he stirred them in the direction of a set of comfortable looking couches at the side of the room.

Hoseok’s mother sat next to you, leaving the other side free so Hoseok could sit next to you, placing your joined hands on his thigh.

“Y/N dear, how did you sleep, you look so refreshed, your cheeks look so lovely blushed!” You laughed and thank the woman, “call me Eomoni, dear”, you wouldn’t tell her your cheeks looked red because her son and you had had a heart to heart in the car, as it seemed was your thing these days, and you had cried your eyes out. 

“These two couldn’t stay more than a couple feet apart, eomoni,” said Jimin, “so I offered them my bed so they could keep their distance.”

“Yeah, ‘cause yesterday they would go ‘woohoo’ if they touched,” laughed Jungkook, around a mouthful of banana cake.

Remembering the terrible bumbling messes the both of you became the prior day, your whole face turned beet red and you hid your face against Hoseok’s shoulder.

“As you can see,” added Yoongi, “they don’t start drooling when they touch anymore.”

Another fit of laughter raised from the group and your soulmate’s hand caressed the crown of your head as his body shook in silent laughter.

Bang PDnim took control of the ruckus and got all eyes focused on him again.

“First of all I want to welcome you again to the family, Y/N. We are here for you in any capacity, to help and support both you and Hoseok, but you are free to look for outside consultants if you want to for any legal matter. The only thing we ask of you is to sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement that you will write with Hoseok and your lawyer, then we will look it over and sign as well,” he waited to see if you had any objection and seeing you didn’t, he continued, “For the time being, we would like you both to visit a doctor so you will be able to go about your everyday life once the bond allows you to be apart…”

“NO!” You shouted, putting yourself between Hoseok and the older man, without thinking. Silence reigned in the room after your outburst, “You’re not going to take him from me, are you? Please, I’ll do anything.”

So focused on Bang PDnim you were that you didn’t see the softening glances of the people around the room, how Namjoon looked down and smiled, letting his dimples show, how Hoseok’s sister smiled at their father and how Jimin and Tae laughed silently. Hoseok was looking at you as if it was his first time seeing you, his eyes never deviating from the little portion of your face he could see and nearly not daring to breath.

“No one is tearing you two apart, Y/N. Our top priority is the wellbeing of the boys and, even if we didn’t care about you, which we do, we would never do something that could make them unhappy,” said the older man, allowing your lungs to release the air they were holding. You relaxed against Hoseok, finally dropping your head on his shoulder. The room then broke into soft conversations, Bang PDnim talking to Hoseok’s parents, the boys unknowingly giving you guys your space. Since you were looking out of a huge window to the side, you didn’t see the look in Hoseok’s eyes as he held you closer to him and kissed the crown of your head.

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