#will i ever be able to not notice when people in a movie close to melee range way before it makes any sense? also no

[whetstonefires]

the problem with knowing things about battle tactics is that an ever-increasing subset of popular media becomes impossible to enjoy properly because you have to sit there like 'wow Captain Protagonist good to know all those dead people on your own side are a direct result of your total lack of anything resembling brains'

[theemporium]

click 'here' to unlock the other boyfriends!

.

It was a well-known fact that Lando Norris was an affectionate guy. 

He couldn’t help himself, it was just something that came so naturally to him. From throwing himself onto his team after a podium finish to wrapping people in tight hugs, from tilting his head towards fans in photos to slumping against people in between long meetings when he needed a few moments to doze off. 

It was like his energy just thrived off of touch. He liked being around people, he liked being able to show them his appreciation and love because he was never really good with words. He liked being able to show the important people in his life what they meant to him—actions showing more than words and all that jazz. 

And he was pretty affectionate with his friends too, that was nothing new. 

But with you? Yeah, nobody was believing for a damn second that anything between you and Lando was just platonic.

You didn’t get it at first. You didn’t think he treated you any differently to how he did with his other friends. He hugged you the same way, threw his arm over you the same way, tugged you close the same way. He would lean his body against yours when he laughed a little too hard and his head would drop on your lap during movie nights, humming when you would scratch his scalp. 

But he did that with other people too. You weren’t anything special.

Except you were—it just took both you and Lando a stupidly long time to see what everyone else saw for months. And even once you spotted it, it wasn’t something you were rushing to tell the world. You wanted something to just be yours for a little bit—your little secret. 

You genuinely didn’t think people would even notice a shift in your relationship. You didn’t even think you acted all that differently from the months you and Lando were just friends, other than the bonus of making out with him at movie nights. 

“It’s been a while, chat. I’ve missed this.” 

Lando watched as the comments rolled in, filling up his screen so fast that he barely had time to catch more than a few words from each comment. And it was the truth. Streaming had become such a stress relief and easy pass-time in between race weekends. It was something simple and fun for him to do, to feel connected to the people who support him. In a weird way, it made him feel useful during his time off when there were no meetings to attend or data to review. 

It was something to do between training sessions.

“Hm, my plans? Mate, I just got off a triple header. My plans include moving as little as possible,” Lando said with an easy smile on his face, making no move to pick a game to play. There was no rush. “Although, I did invite—”

“Where’s my favourite P2 dickhead?!” 

His grin widened. “There she is.”

Lando turned in his chair, waiting a few moments as he listened to you drop your stuff by the door before you made your way into the room he was currently sitting in. You barrelled in, your smile almost as wide as his before you noticed the set up he had.

“You really invited me over while you were streaming?” You snorted, shaking your head but you didn’t have any complaints as you moved to sit on a couch near his desk. 

“No,” Lando whined as he reached out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he tugged you towards him. “I haven’t seen you in three weeks, it’s cruel to sit on the other side of the room.”

“Well, where else am I meant to sit?” You teased. “I keep telling you to get another chair in—-oh.”

You tried to hide your own surprise when Lando pulled you down onto his lap. It wasn’t the first time he had ever done it, and you highly doubted it would be the last, but he had never done it with so many people watching. 

He didn’t settle until his arms were wrapped around you, your body pressed against his before he practically nuzzled his face against your shoulder. “Better.”

Your face felt warm. “Someone’s clingy.” 

“I haven’t seen my best friend in three weeks,” Lando huffed, his brows furrowed together as though he was reliving the last three weeks. Between the races, training and media chaos, he barely had any time to himself—let alone time to talk to you. “Sue me.”

“Oh, he’s sassy and clingy,” you teased but didn’t say much else as you shifted until you were sideways on his lap, giving him a clear view of his screen. Your arm wound around his shoulder, your fingers twirling the curls at the nape of his neck. 

user: friends my ass, look at them!!

user: they are so cute!!

user: are they dating??

user: MY OTP!!!! 

user: clingy lando is the best lando

user: they are literal couple goals 

user: they are my fav ship 

Lando’s eyes scanned over the comments before he snorted, though there was something quite smug in his expression. “Ship? Like friendship? Aw, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re a fucking menace, Norris.”

“Language,” he teasingly scolded, lightly pinching your hip just out of view of the camera but the squeal you let out in response told the viewers enough. “Gotta keep it kid-friendly in here. Max is probably watching from home. We can’t scar the poor kid.”

max fewtrell: too late for that, mate

You shook your head, lips pressed together to hold back your laughs. You shifted in the seat, like you were ready to stand up but his arms tightened around you.

Lando’s face softened. “Where are you going? Stay here.”

“I was gonna go make something,” you said with a soft laugh. “God knows you’ve probably not eaten a proper meal since you got back.”

“Eh,” he grumbled but he didn’t relent his grip on you. “It’s fine, we can order something. Just stay here.”

“I’ll only be in the other room,” you attempted but the boy wasn’t having it.

“No, I prefer you here,” Lando said, squeezing your body to punctuate his point. “And the chat missed you too. It would be rude if you left.”

“This can’t be comfy for you,” you murmured, your voice a little softer in hopes the microphone wouldn’t pick it up.

But Lando just grinned at you—that wide, huge grin that took over his face and made his eyes crinkle and sent a flurry of butterflies through your stomach. 

“You’re exactly where I want you, baby.” 

And you couldn’t help but smile back. 

user: BABY??????

user: OH MY GOD IT’S CONFIRMED 

user: THIS IS SO KEWBFJWEKFBWE

max fewtrell: you’re such a fucking idiot 

max fewtrell: but happy for you guys<3

.

[cy-cyborg]

Writing and drawing amputee characters: Not every amputee wears prosthetics (and that's ok)

Not every amputee wears prosthetics, and not doing so is not a sign that they've "given up".

It's a bit of a trope that I've noticed that when an amputee, leg amputees in particular, don't wear prosthetics in media its often used as a sign that they've given up hope/stopped trying/ are depressed etc. If/when they start feeling better, they'll start wearing their prosthetics again, usually accompanied by triumphant or inspiring music (if it's a movie). The most famous example of this is in Forest Gump, Where Dan spends most of the movie after loosing his legs wishing he'd died instead. He does eventually come around, and him finally moving from his wheelchair to prosthetics is meant to highlight this.

The thing is, it's not that it's unrealistic - in fact my last major mental health spiral was started because one of my prosthetics was being a shit and wouldn't go on properly, despite fitting perfectly at the prosthetist's the day before. I'm not going to use my legs when I'm not in a good headspace, but the problem is, this is the only time non-prosthetic using amputees ever get representation: to show how sad they are. Even if that's not what the creator/writer necessarily intended, audiences will often make that assumption on their own unless you're very careful and intentional about how you frame it, because it's what existing media has taught them to expect.

But there are lots of reasons why someone might not use prosthetics:

they might not need them: this is more common in arm amputees because of how difficult it can be to use arm prosthetic, especially above-elbow prosthetics. Most folks learn how to get on without them pretty well. In fact, most of the arm amputees I know don't have prosthetics, or only have them for specific tasks (e.g. I knew a girl who had a prosthetic hand made specifically for rowing, but that's all she used it for).

Other mobility aids just work better for them: for me, I'm faster, more manoeuvrable and can be out for longer when I'm in my wheelchair than I ever could on my prosthetics. Youtube/tik tok creator Josh Sundquist has said the same thing about his crutches, he just feels better using them than his prosthetic. This isn't the case for everyone of course, but it is for some of us. Especially people with above-knee prosthetics, in my experience.

Other disabilities make them harder to use: Some people are unable to use prosthetics due to other disabilities, or even other amputations. Yeah, as it turns out, a lot of prosthetics are only really designed for single-limb amputees. While they're usable for multi-limb amps, they're much harder to use or they might not be able to access every feature. For example, the prosthetic knee I have has the ability to monitor the walk cycle of the other leg and match it as close as possible - but that only works if you have a full leg on the other side. Likewise, my nan didn't like using her prosthetic, as she had limited movement in her shoulders that meant she physically couldn't move her arms in the right way to get her leg on without help.

Prosthetics are expensive in some parts of the world: not everyone can afford a prosthetic. My left prosthetic costs around $5,000 Australian dollars, but my right one (the above knee) cost $125,000AUD. It's the most expensive thing I own that I only got because my country pays for medical equipment for disabled folks. Some places subsidise the cost, but paying 10% of $125,000 is still $12,500. Then in some places, if you don't have insurance, you have to pay for that all by yourself. Even with insurance you still have to pay some of it depending on your cover. Arm prosthetics are even more expensive. Sure, both arms and legs do have cheaper options available, but they're often extremely difficult to use. You get what you pay for.

they aren't suitable for every type of environment: Prosthetics can be finicky and modern ones can be kind of sensitive to the elements. My home town was in a coastal lowland - this means lots of beaches and lots of swamp filled with salty/brackish water. The metals used in prosthetics don't hold up well in those conditions, and so they would rust quicker, I needed to clean them more, I needed to empty sand out of my foot ALL THE TIME (there always seemed to be more. It was like a bag of holding but it was just sand). Some prosthetics can't get wet at all. There were a few amputees who moved to the area when I was older who just didn't bother lol. It wasn't worth the extra effort needed for the maintenance.

People have allergies to the prosthetic material: This is less of a problem in the modern day, but some people are allergic to the materials their prosthetics are made from. You can usually find an alternative but depending on the type of allergy, some people are allergic to the replacements too.

Some people just don't like them.

There's nothing wrong with choosing to go without a prosthetic. There's nothing wrong with deciding they aren't for you. It doesn't make you a failure or sad or anything else. Using or not using prosthetics is a completely morally neutral thing.

Please, if you're writing amputees, consider if a prosthetic really is the best mobility aid for your character and consider having your characters go without, or at least mix it up a bit.

For example, Xari, one of the main characters in my comic, uses prosthetics unsupported and with crutches, and uses a wheelchair. They alternate between them throughout the story.

[ferrstappen]

Everybody wants a taste l LN4

a/n: i am in an urgent need of writing ideas I've had for MONTHS so brace yourselves I guess?? also the title ofc is from pop anthem jealous by nick Jonas.

i am also very very very stressed waiting for the standing start.

pairing: Lando Norris x actress!reader

this is angst. and some tom holland after this poll results <3

summary: Lando had never been the jealous kind, but after seeing you with many co-stars, he reaches his limit. and his girlfriend doesn't like it.

No one would ever know Lando Norris' was reaching his limit as he stood on the sidelines of another press junket for his girlfriend's new movie: a coming of age movie that already was creating awards season buzz, and God was he proud of her, having witnessed the ten minute standing ovation she received during Cannes.

But of course the limelight wasn't only on her. No, it was on him.

Lando remembers when he was asked who he'd want to portray him if they ever did a biopic and he didn't hesitate: Tom Holland. There could be some similarities between the two, both British, chestnut curls, but now Lando's skin crawled just from hearing the name.

He had dealt with different co-stars during the almost two years of relationship; he'd seen her kiss them, fight with them, fall in love with them, but this was different, he never had to witness her naked skin pressed against someone else, placing her body on top of his, pretended noises he knew weren't real and authentic, but still, they were supposed to be just for him. All for the sake of making a point of her character being an adult now, some shit about an epiphany of being able to take control of her own life, make decisions about her body, and whatever the screenwriters wanted to portray.

And of course Lando didn't help himself.

user1: God has favorites, just check y/n having fake sex w tom holland and real sex w lando norris

user2: no but y/n and tom??? such a hot couple I NEED it to happen

user3: and what are you gonna do with lando and zendaya? lol user2: idc I just want y/n and tom to be a thing

And that was just the beginning, before the movie had even dropped, because the day of the premiere? Everything went wrong.

Sunny Los Angeles had welcomed you and Lando after landing from London, paparazzi eagerly waiting for the arrival at LAX, catching the perfect pictures of Lando placing you in front of him, holding your hand tightly and doing his best to shield your body from prying eyes who just wanted a couple of dollars.

Despite being jet lagged after spending a couple of days in your home in Monaco, there wasn't much time to catch a break because the moment the two of you set foot on the Beverly Hills Hotel, they barely let you take a shower before giving some nice, fluffy robes. Lando was first, out of nowhere two people were working on his hair while the other was applying some kind of serums and creams on his face, but he didn't care when it was time for another team to start working on you; Lando was mesmerized by the way your hair perfectly framed your face, the natural glow of your skin, the deep red of your lips.

"I don't like being so separated," Lando pouted, walking towards your seat, earning a giggle from you because he looked so funny and cozy with the big robe.

"There's not much we can do, baby. I can barely move," You searched for his eyes and that was when Lando got the idea. The hair stylists gasped when the racer sat down on the floor, circling his arms around one of your legs and resting his cheek on your thigh. "Oh, you're willing to be told off by the make up artists as well?" You asked him but your insides were dancing all over the place, your fingers quickly finding their place on his curls.

Neither of you noticed a Vogue photographer capturing the scene, with Lando's eyes closed and cheek smushed, with his arms secured around your leg, but neither realized representatives for Armani had walked in carrying Lando's tux and your body-hugging black velvet gown.

So far so good. A picture perfect young couple who loved each other very much and had photographers swooning by the way Lando fixes your earring and checks for lipstick on your teeth, and how you make sure his bow tie is leveled.

But then, they get to the red carpet.

It was an elegant affair, but still full of people and before he realized, the red carpet manager was separating you from him for an alone photo call before the one and only Tom Holland got there, cheerfully greeting you in front of the cameras, throwing a couple of jokes to make you laugh as he placed his hand on your back.

This was a nightmare, having to listen to people say how cute the two of you looked, a perfect on and off screen pair, chemistry on and off the screen, both your names already on the shortlist for the Oscars.

Lando's skin was starting to crawl, and it didn't help that he had to re watch the scenes haunting his mind, but this time it was out for the entire world to see, and it didn't take long for his latest instagram post to be flooded of vile comments.

when are you getting replaced by tom holland??

now tom holland can play you in movie and y/n plays herself, nothing changes lmao

lando control ur woman!!!

lucky man, she sounds so pretty I almost had to leave the theatre

lando honey you can leave her I'd never do that to you

And Lando knows he shouldn't, but when your hand reaches for his when the night ends, he pretends to look for his phone; when you try to fix a messy curl, he moves his head out of your reach.

and you know your boyfriend too well.

"Baby, are you okay?" You ask him once you reach the shared hotel room.

Lando lets out a dry chuckle, but too aware of his throat closing. "Why wouldn't I be?"

But you weren't having it, not today, not on your big day, not when you just wanted rest your head on his chest and fall asleep with his arms wrapped around your frame.

"I don't know, you tell me, you're the one acting weird,"

"I am not," Lando argued, trying to take deeper breath, but failing miserably.

"Okay Lando, whatever, I don't care. You can be selfish during a very important day for me for all I care,"

Those words struck a nerve: "Me? Selfish? Are you fucking kidding me?" Now you could see his cheeks flushing, maybe even his neck gaining some red color.

You wanted to be scared, to walk away and let him cool off any unwanted feeling or thought on his head, but you couldn't.

"No, I'm not. Please illustrate me as to what happened to put you in this insufferable mood," You argued back and watched as Lando's mouth opened and closed as he undid the cuffs from his shirt, threw the suit jacket on the leather sofa and threw away the bow tie, all in just a couple of seconds.

"Am I not allowed to be upset to watch him all over you, having to look at the both of you acting like the best of friends or lovers for all I care, and then have to watch on this fucking enormous screen how you kiss him and touch him," Lando spat the words as if they were venom; he could feel his throat closing

Your eyes widened in disbelief, your brain not processing Lando's words. "Lando, you are not making any sense. Are you listening to yourself?" You were careful not to raise your voice, knowing he wasn't in a clear space of mind, but you blood was running hot too after processing what he was implying.

"Yes, I am. (Y/N), baby, I'm tired of having to watch you making out with a different guy every a couple of months, it is so tiring, and I understand that this is your job, but..." Lando was about to continue but was stopped by you, messily taking off the heavy velvet dress and heels, putting on the first pair of jeans and oversized sweater you found. "What are you doing?"

"I don't want to listen to you anymore. You are ridiculous, Lando. You're talking about my job, my career, that I've worked my ass off, and never in a million years I thought you'd be telling me this bullshit! I'm not going to entertain this, so if you can't deal with this anymore, please let me know so that I can move on," this time your throat tightened, the last words coming out broken and choked, emotions fighting to make their way; from anger to utter sadness.

"Where are you going?" Lando didn't know if he was angry with you, disappointed in himself, maybe a mix of both as he watched you grab the Chanel black backpack.

"I don't know, but let me know if you can do this or what,"

You were sure those were the last words of the unforeseen argument, but as you were grabbing the card key of the room, Lando opened his mouth.

"Maybe you can go with Tom, everyone wants you two together anyway."

Of course he needed to get the last words.

[wonbriiize]

riize as boyfriends pt. 1

pt 2. is here

✧₊⁺ shotaro

the type of boyfriend who would wake you up with kisses

he yearns for a deep & meaningful relationship

would make you film cute dance tiktoks with him ˃̵ᴗ˂̵

he would notice when you’re feeling sad and would do his best to make you feel better

like, he would buy your favorite flowers and surprise you with them

or he would call you over to his place and surprise you with your favorite movie & snacks

it’s important to him for you guys to talk about your feelings, desires, goals etc. openly

if conflict happens, he’d rather sit down and talk it out because he goes crazy thinking about you guys being on bad terms

he is so so so supportive !! whatever you want to do, he will stand behind you, he will always have your back no matter what ♡ ̆̈

shotaro is usually very happy but when he sees that you‘re having a bad day, his mood goes down too. like, you hate the world right now? good, so does he !! you want to cry a river? well, he will cry along with you !!

✧₊⁺ eunseok

would pull up behind you and put his arm around your waist to hold you close to him

especially in social gatherings, it’s his sign to show everyone that you’re only his

he stares at you for the longest time and when you ask what’s up he just straight up says ‘i love you’ with the most serious tone ever

it makes him smile when you get shy after he does this, he just loves watching your reaction to it

the type of boyfriend who would have a pic of you in his wallet

when people would ask him ‘who‘s this’, he would softly smile and say ‘my favorite person’

likes to try out new things on your dates

for example going to places you’ve never been to, or doing fun activities that both of you haven’t tried yet

loves teasing you, in every way possible

would sneak up next to you in bed and watch you sleep with admiring eyes because he loves how peaceful you appear (*◡*♡)

✧₊⁺ sungchan

the type of boyfriend who would wake you up in the morning to go out for a walk

would make you breakfast as well

like when you’re on your period, he’d want you to rest in your bed and bring the breakfast to you (づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡

honestly, he’s the type to ask ‘where’s my hug at?’

when you’d hug him, he’d wrap his arms around you so tightly that you fear he’s going to break your bones

he‘d rest his chin on your head and tease you with pushing it down

you like to scare him so sometimes when he does that, you act like he actually hurt you

he would get so concerned, step back and look at you with the most beautiful and apologetic eyes you’d ever seen

sungchan would keep saying sorry even when you tell him you were just joking, because if he’d actually hurt you, he‘d never be able to forgive himself

you‘d have to kiss him to silence him and assure him that everything is fine, and after the kiss, sungchan would have the biggest smile on his face, his eyes looking down at you with the most loving gaze ♡ ´･ᴗ･ `♡

✧₊⁺ wonbin

sends you good morning and good night messages

if he‘s out shopping and sees something that he thinks you’d like or it reminds him of you, he’d buy it right away

he‘s such a scaredy cat but he’d act so tough to look cool in front of you

like, if you guys would go to a horror escape room, he would secretly be shitting his pants everytime your attention wouldn’t be on him

but the second your eyes wander back to him, he’d act like this is the most easiest thing ever

when something creepy would happen in the escape room, he’d try to put all his fear aside and protect you

but you’re a bit better with horror stuff than him, so he actually ends up being the one who needs protection, like he’d hide behind you

also, for your birthday, he’d sing your favorite song for you while playing the guitar

everytime you wouldn’t be looking at him, he would be staring at you, telling himself how lucky he is that he gets to be with you ˃̶̤⌄˂̶̤

when the two of you watch a movie together, he enjoys resting his head on your shoulder and fiddling with your shirt as well as kissing you unexpectedly •ᴗ•♡

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Hi, I wanted to ask for a Clarisse fanfic where the reader is gifted in the arts? I would also like to ask that the reader be a daughter of Hades :)

What’s a girl to do

Pairings - Clarisse La rue x daughter of hades! Fem! Reader

An - this lowkey sucked but YALL will live

You had always been gifted in the arts. From dance, music, art itself and even theater.

Being that you were a hades kid most kids avoided you, not that because your dad was the king of the underworld but because just being around you gave them an unsettling feeling.

Something every great artist had was a muse, someone they could go to for inspiration, someone that gave their work meaning. But you? You didn’t have a muse.

Sure you’ve had inspiration come from all types of media but never once did you have an actual person you could call your muse.

That had changed though when you met clarisse. It started out small with small doodles of her. Then she started to show up as small details in your song lyrics. And even going as far as using her as your model in your photos

You two were friends.. but you knew you wanted more then that.

——

Clarisse spun her spear around on the sandy beach. She was so in the moment that she hadn’t heard the sound of your camera going off.

She ended in a pose with her spear tucked under her arm. Panting that’s when she realized you were sitting near by.

“You know its creepy to take photos of people without their knowledge right”

“Eh you’ll live” you smiled. Clarisse had always been beautiful even in situations like now where she was panting and sweaty from her workout.

You walked over towards her smiling sat the picture

She was a natural. The way clarisse moved her body it was like she was meant to be infront of the camera.

subconsciously you started leaning into her to show her the photo. “this one here, I like how your curls kinda spun around with you, you know” You smiled, clarisse nodded placing a hand around your waist, she had always done that but it didn’t mean it didn’t get you flustered everytime.

“Mmhm” she stuck her spear in the ground before reaching over placing her free hand onto yours clicking back on the camera to a photo of her standing with her spear pointed down the sun hitting her at a certian angle adding dramatics. “this one is better”

“Well I think both are fine” you smiled looking over at clarisse. Your faces were close. So close if you even just moved a little you might accidentally kiss.

You waited for clarisse to do something, to move away and tell you to piss off but she didn’t. Instead you started to feel her rub circles on your hip.

Almost out of a movie mark clarisses bother appeared. “Clarisse!” He yelled gaining the now irritated girls attention.

“The hell do You want Mark im busy” she looked over at him not wanting to deal his bullshit. “It’s Sam and Jane, they got into another fight and are in the infirmary now Chiron wants to see you about it all”

You watched as clarisses closed her eyes trying to calm down even a little. She looked back at you before squeezing your hip and letting go to head off to beat her siblings.

You stood there frozen and embarrassed. Clarisse didn’t like you. There was no way if anything she liked silena. Clarisse only saw you as a friend…

Right..

——

Around 3am you decided to sneak out of your cabin not able to sleep.

Lazily walking around the camp trying to not get caught you noticed a familiar girl jumping out the ares cabin window. Using shadow travel you quickly moved to stand beside the cabin.

Clarisse sighed as she landed on the ground, silently closing the window “since when did you sneak out”

“Fuck!” She whisper yelled having to pull her hand back from hitting you. “What the hell are you doing out here”

“Selling hardcore drugs— now you tell me why your ever so quietly leaving your cabin” you sarcastically spoke. Clarisse rolled her eyes in defiance. “Your a pain in my ass you know” she scoffed.

You shrugged your shoulders. “You’ve said worse to Me” starting to follow the girl into the forest you took in the scenery.

The full moon brought you a sense of comfort, mainly in the fact that the goddess nyx had always brought protection to people in need through the veil of night.

Clarisse continued until she came to a clearing in the woods, high on the mountian side and far enough away from the camp you wouldn’t get caught but high enough you could see the stretched out lake.

“Wow..” you whispered. “I never new this spot existed”

“That’s supposed to be the point”

“Is this where you take girls to makeout with them then torture them before k—“

“I’m not some insane serial killer dumbass” clarisse laughed pushing you softly before sitting down. You followed her lead sitting a little to close to her.

After a few moments you watched as clarisse silently complained befote grabbing some Kindle Wood arranging it to make a small fire. Using a lighter most likely taken from the big house.

After sitting back watching the fire clarisse looked over at you. “How long have you been doing all this shit”

You raised an eyebrow confused. “You mean photography” you chuckled, Clarisse nodded in response her face unreadable.

You sighed for a moment “uhh I’m not really sure, I just I’ve always had a passion for the arts and been naturally gifted in them, I like photography the best with painting being right underneath though” you tucked some hair behind your ear slightly embarrassed.

“Why me” she continued to asked. “Like out of every camper here why am I the one you take the most photos of me”

“Well I Ju—“

“Wait wait don’t tell me you like me” clarisse laughed at the end of her statement. You went to speak but decided to stay quiet letting clarisse finish her laughing fit it. She soon stopped looking over with a playful face. “Wait seriously.. you use me as your muse because you like me”

You started to get up embarrassed walking away quickly not wanting to listen to the girl yelling after you. About five steps into your leave clarisse grabbed your arm. “Gods damnit can you just wait” she huffed.

“Yeah because I just love being laughed at thanks clarisse” you tried to pull your arm away but it was pointless “you know it’s actually really shitty to laugh at someone when you find out they like yo—“

You were cut off by clarisse grabbing your head and crashing her lips against yours. Not caring how messy it was, clarisse kept a firm hold on your head while grabbing your waist pushing you against her.

The kiss moved from messy to controlled. You let clarisse hold you close, soft breaths leaving both your mouths not wanting to pull away but still needing to breathe.

Pulling away you felt clarisses hot breath on your lips. “Do you ever stop talking” she asked now with her hand on the side of your face comfortingly rubbing circles. You rolled your eyes but kept quiet, your arms around clarisses neck.

Clarisses kissed you once again slowly, she pulled away kissing your cheek. “I like you to dumbass”

“Really..?”

“Uh yeah you really think I let anyone take photos and draw me?”

You playfully pushed the girls shoulder before pulling her back into a grinful kiss

“Great now that we’re together can we please go back to the fire it’s cold as shit out here”

“Whatever La rue”

[spdrvyn]

parched — MIGUEL O'HARA

(( I FINALLY WATCHED ATSV AAAGHHHH IT WAS SO GOOD !!! not gonna say anything because if i ramble it will 100% go into spoiler territory but it was probably the best movie i've ever seen no exaggeration. anyway, here's a small miguel one shot? drabble? spoiler-free :3 ))

READ PART 2 HERE.

You and Miguel led nearly entirely different lives.

He was constantly out and about. Putting his body, his mind through strenuous lengths for the sake of the people. For the sake of everyone. He sacrifices a piece of himself, bit by bit. Everyday. Just for everybody else's peace.

Your job almost felt a little silly next to his. After all, you were quite sure that being Spider-Man didn't offer a week of paid vacation. Which you were extremely grateful to have, by the way.

In all honesty, you felt the smallest piece of pity for him. You were able to catch up on your hobbies, enjoy shows that were put on your list for so long, and get more than 5 hours of sleep.

You knew that Miguel was barely getting a shred of that. How did you know? Even in two in the morning, while you were resting on the couch and catching up on yet another show, you hadn't heard him come in through the window that you normally keep open for him.

Worry seeps it's way into your brain as you try to focus on the pixels in front of you. Of course, you were scared for him. Everyday that he went out, the unexpected could happen and well... You didn't want to think too deep into it.

At least, your mind was distracted when you were working but now you were relaxing, the thoughts that you tried bury deep down under to the crevices of your mind were all coming back again.

It only concerned you more when throughout the week so far, you'd seen him less and less. On occasion, in the middle of the night, the click of a lock would alert you awake but before you could sit up and investigate, strong arms locked around your waist and a head pressed into your shoulder.

You sighed, reaching for the remote and pausing your show.

The worries, the yearning. It all gave you a swirling, growing feeling in your gut that you hadn't really familiarized yourself with. You weren't sure if you liked it, you weren't sure if you hated it. Though the way that it pierced into you like a newly sharpened spear just confused you even further.

Trying to focus on another feeling growing inside of you. Hunger and satisfying it, you hoped it would get all of this off of your mind as you lazily walk into the kitchen.

A reoccurring theme whenever you wanted a snack was once you actually made your way to the pantry, decisions were a foreign concept and your cravings were like trying to read binary code.

Instant ramen? Cookies? Chips? Ice cream?

Felt even worse this time when you hadn't particularly been exercising your brain recently, a mental note to yourself to be just a little bit on edge when you get a break like this.

You opt on giving up entirely, you slam the cabinet door, and turn around to get back to the couch until—

There's a weight against your back and waist, keeping you against the counter.

As you look down, you see the familiar shades of red and blue. Sighing, you look to a little over your shoulder and take a little peek. To see closed eyes signalled by Miguel's mask. The marks trembling shut, you feel his grip on you get tighter.

In a volume as close to a whisper, you break the silence, "Miguel? You okay?" Like you expected, he takes off his mask. Eyes screwed shut, brows furrowing as you can see the stress lines and deep circles under them.

He sighs but not out of being content, thumb tracing small shapes into your stomach. "Been so lonely, mi cielo."

Your heart clenches as that. That was right, you understood what kind of lover that he could be. Needy, clingy, these qualities festering even more each moment he spends away from you. You noticed how much he was holding back right now.

He normally liked to fix himself up before getting all comfortable and relaxed with you. Showering, brushing his curls, general self-care but the moment he came inside his first instinct was to go to you.

Those thoughts from a while ago that were nearly going to absorb you came back. To think the cold that Miguel had to endure out there from how tightly he wanted to absorb your warmth.

"I missed you so much. Me sentí tan solo, don't wanna let go."

You were going to respond but your mind practically short-circuited when he started pressing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder. You let him indulge himself, just a little while.

Of course, his job terrified you sometimes but seeing him like this. Seeing him let his guard down, talking about how much he missed you, calling you his darling.

Perhaps Spider-Men had their own charm but Miguel's just got you wrapped around his finger like nobody else could.

For a brief moment, he nibbles on the flesh at the back of your neck. Pressing one last kiss, "Will get fixed up, then voy a demostrarte cuánto te extrañé después de todo este tiempo."

Shamefully, you didn't pick up learning Spanish yet from how much Miguel speaks it to you. Yet through context clues and bashfully asking him what the things he said meant sometimes.

You knew exactly what was going to come next.

[cod-dump]

Soap is everyone's partner best friend and it drives people and because he's super clingy about it. There's no place for Price to sleep in his own bed because Soap took his place between Nik and Phil and they let him because "he was tired and sad". Gaz came back from a mission and thought he will spend time with Roach but he can' t because Soap's already laying head on his lap, talking about whatever bullshit they're at now and Roach seems content enough about it. Laswell threatened to take every single phone in a base to her office because she can't ever call her wife because Soap's always on a phone with her with new rumors. Alejandro has to actually wait for his turns to dance with Rudy whenever Soap's around because he Rudy lets Soap steal him with a smile.

Price was starting to wish Soap and Graves never made up considering how the sergeant was always with him or Nik when Price had free time. He just wanted to relax with his boyfriend and husband but Soap was already wedged between them, a movie playing. Price had to wait for the movie to end just so he could cuddle his partners since Soap refused to leave without finishing the movie.

Gaz didn't think Soap hanging out with Roach was a problem until he came back to base after a long mission. He just finished debriefing everything that happened, showered and ate, and he just wanted to spend time with his boyfriend... Which he didn't get to do because Soap and Roach were reading some comics together. Gaz went to bed annoyed and frankly upset he didn't get to spend time with Roach after missing him for months.

Laswell originally had no issues with any of her boys having Annie's phone number. She was 'Homey Mom', which countered Laswell's 'Stern Mom'. But she started having a problem when never seemed to be able to talk to her wife while away from home because Soap was always on the damn phone with her. Laswell had so many messages from Annie telling her she was already on the phone with Johnny and couldn't talk at the moment.

Alejandro was already pretty touchy and generally jealous over Rudy. That was his amazing husband, his soulmate, the light of his existence, and fucking Soap was stealing all his attention! Alejandro was fuming when he saw them dancing at the bar, Rudy laughing as Soap twirled him around. Took a few Los Vaqueros to keep him from doing anything that he would've regretted.

It annoyed them all, bothered a couple. It was Alejandro who found a solution to it, being beyond angry with Soap for stealing all his husband’s attention. Soap had held Rudy’s hand for the last time because Alejandro went on the offensive.

As Soap leaned against Rudy, too close for Alejandro’s comfort, he would notice Ghost walk into the room. He sat up straight and went to call out to him, but then Alejandro swooped in from behind and wrapped his arms Ghost’s waist, resting his head on the man’s shoulder and grinning broadly. Soap just stared as Ghost and Alejandro talked. Everyone noticed Soap’s reaction, so, they naturally followed Alejandro’s lead.

And now Soap get almost no time with Ghost.

“Sorry, Johnny, Captain wants to go out drinking. No, you can’t tag along, it’s a high end club and he didn’t call ahead with a third wheel in mind.”

“Busy, Johnny. Kyle and I are going on a hike. You and Roach were suppose to go to that movie, why are you asking?"

“Laswell needs me for a few hours. Oh, you’ve been talking on the phone all day, you won’t even miss me.”

“No, I can’t. Alejandro is taking me out to eat. Some, what did he call it, five star restaurant? Supposedly good food but it’s expensive. I’m not missing out on that!”

Soap was finally getting a taste of his own medicine. And, unfortunately for him, Ghost was all too happy to go along with everyone’s plans. While he wasn’t bothered by Soap’s closeness with the others, he would prefer his boyfriend’s attention on him.

[tangyangie]

karma general dating headcanons!

— first of all.. he definitely teases you. way more than anyone else. like, if him teasing the class was a 10 on the scale, you'd be a 26.

— he likes to poke you. there's no specific reason, you're just so.. pokeable. he likes to see your skin smush beneath his finger as you face slowly gets more annoyed. he will stop eventually, if you ask him to.

— he likes to buy you things. he will get you gifts that you've only mentioned once before, as a general thought. it's honestly baffling how closely he listens to what you say.

— he learns as much as possible about your tastes. you like a certain music artist? he's memorized the discography in one day. if he sees you browsing a site on how to make a certain dish? he learns how to cook it on the way to the grocery store to get the ingredients.

— he gives you massages. he notices how tense you may get, and wants to relieve this pressure. but, if you make any noise at all, he'll tease the shit out of you. be prepared.

— he does your schoolwork for you. if you forgot to do an assignment right before class, he'll write down the answers as fast as he possibly can. although korosensei probably wouldn't get too angry, you'd rather not deal with the speech.

— he loves to kiss you. a lot. he will completely engulf your face with his lips, all leading up to a final kiss on the lips and a tap on your nose. he constantly amuses you with this predictable pattern. -- one time, you decided to dodge the final kiss, and he acted so offended. he got back at you, though. you didn't escape him that time.

— he's a very light sleeper. if you move at all, he's waking up. just getting up to get a glass of water will make him jerk awake like the earth is destroying itself underneath his feet. you apologize every time, but no amount of sleeping aids helps.

— he initiates a lot of pillow fights. you say something with a little too much of a teasing smile, and he'll get you back by smothering you with a fluffy pillow. you laugh from underneath, but he'll only grab more to destroy you (with love) until you surrender.

— he makes fun of the characters in movies. you watch a horror movie, and he'll be yelling at the screen for the character not to go back to the door, how stupid they're being, and how he'd totally be able to survive whatever the phenomenon is.

— he's the least clumsy person you'll ever meet. he could probably carry ten gallons of water in paint buckets all stacked over each other on his head for 3 miles, and there would be absolutely no drop spilled.

— he likes to take you on fun dates. you'll both find an old park with a tire swing, and you'll hang out there every day eating oranges while hanging upside down on the monkey bars.

— he's a drama queen. he'll fall backwards theatrically with the back of his hand on his forehead and gracefully land on the grass. all of this because you refused to skip class with him.

— he's extremely protective. i don't think i need to mention this, but if he hears that anyone even laid a finger on you, he'll go pay them a friendly visit. they won't be coming to school for at least a week.

— he steals blankets. although it's mostly when he sleeps, he does it when he's awake, too. you're freezing your ass off? not his problem. (part of him wants you to cuddle up to him and beg him to wrap his arm around you.)

notes: this was so much fun to make!! i need to make more headcanons of random people who i'm thinking of atm..

[venusbby]

being rin's roommate had its pros and cons.

he was always quiet, minding his own business. he never really brought any trouble (except the few times he came home with an injury and expected you to let him deal with it himself) and that's what made living with him easier.

but sometimes, just sometimes, it feels like he's been forced to live with you.

you wouldn't say you were overly social or a person who could be friends with anyone they like, but god, every time you talked, rin acted like you were the most uninteresting person ever. when clearly, you were the most chill person on the planet.

exaggeration, yes. but it's not wrong to say that you weren't a loud person. you preferred silence just as much as he did. so why did he look like he's living with a totally different person?

that blank expression, his lips pressed in a straight line and those undeniably pretty lashes of his- as much as you had grown to like the look he always gave you, it was so damn frustrating. always the same stupid look, the look which made your stomach flip even though he didn't smile or show amusement.

you never knew what was going on his head.

eventually, he noticed the effort you put in to be his friend (when all you did was stare at him every time he was doing something, as if to remind him, "stop ignoring me!!! stop. ignoring. me.") and your 'friendship' was finally happening. (he felt a little scared.)

it was all going quite nicely, even though rin was still not that talkative. you knew he was just.. like that. you wouldn't expect him to change his ways. all you wanted was to help him get as comfortable as you were in this apartment, and it definitely worked.

after weeks and weeks of progress, it finally came to a point where rin was so comfortable that he even asked you to join his horror movie marathon.

and it was a big mistake, he realized, when you stood in the doorway of his bedroom with a sheepish look on your face.

"what do you want."

rin's irritated voice made you huff. he was already under his covers, but hadn't slept even though it had been almost an hour after the last movie. you felt incredibly jealous of how warm he must be, shuddering and entering his room without saying a word. a new level of comfortable.

oh, how much you loved his expressions- like how was staring at you like you were a fly that wouldn't leave him alone.

"shut up," you hushed, lifting the covers and climbing into his bed, cutting him off just as he was about to complain, "and move."

now, you laid next to your roommate who had started to consider pushing you off the bed. "this is fucking ridiculous. what the- what are you doing?" he hissed, watching you shift closer and pull the covers over yourself.

you sighed, ignoring him. "that last movie was.. something."

he groaned, staring at the ceiling just like you, avoiding the way your sides touched. "you insisted on watching it all the way, not me."

"yeah, but then i kept seeing that fucking old lady from the movie in the corner of my room. so, now im here."

"we are never doing this again. you hear me?"

"whatever, just let me sleep here tonight. it's 2 AM already, i'll be out of your room by 6."

rin cursed under his breath, turning quickly so that his back was facing you. this bed wasn't even made for two people. he closed his eyes, hoping to drift off as soon as possible so that he could just forget that you were in the same bed as him. there was no way he would let you notice the reason for his frantic movements.

his peace lasted for mere seconds before it was interrupted by the sound of shuffling and the mattress slightly sinking near his side when you wrapped your arm around him.

his eyes shot open and he stilled, hearing you softly apologize, your voice closer to his ear this time.

"i have a habit, sorry."

rin was losing his mind and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to exist tomorrow.

"you're fine." he rushed his words faster than anything, breathing out when you shifted even closer with what sounded like a silent laugh. "just go to sleep, fuck's sake."

there were no more horror movie nights after this, that's for sure. but now rin's got a bigger problem and that is dealing with these stupid feelings he has for you.

he really was losing his mind.

[kenlvry]

stans gang and late night skinny dipping eith their s/o

skinny dipping with stans group

an,DAMNN OKAY ANON I SEE U 😝🤞 this is such an interesting one. SLIGHTEST nsfw so theyre all 18

kenny

you and him were having a sleepover, he's just there to accompany you since your parents are out of town and your an only child so it gets scary.

kenny has had this idea for a long time actually,everytime he comes over he suggests you two skinny dip tgt but you always refuse

not that you don't want to, he asks when the sun is blaring at you and during people are just walking by and greeting you like cmon, and also your parents can clearly see you if you two go skinny dip like um???

anyways, you two were watching a movie and it was getting boring, you looked out to your backyard to see your pool, you thought it was a good time "ken, you know how you always ask to skinny dip tgt?"

his clothes are off by the time you finish that sentence. he has been ready ever since the day he saw you had a pool.

he's already in the pool waiting for you. your just there like 🧍 "come in babe" you stood there taking off your clothes while he stared from the pool "damn think i need to be handcuffed somewhere this time" smirking at you.

the pool was cols.the pool wasn't that deep, it reached your shoulder meanwhile it reached just the lowerhalf of kenny. since it was cold kenny would make jokes like "its really cold, dont you wanna warm you sweet boyfriend?" or "you love me right? im really cold rn.."

his hands are everywhere, from you waist to your ass to your hands then your shoulders, he is dora the explorer

tbh you two don't know what to do in there, i mean.. theres only one thing to do when your naked tgt...and uh you weren't up for that

when you have your back turned on him he would definitely press himself against you "tryna do something tonight?" he hugs you from behind and lays his head on your shoulder

"maybe not in the pool ken" you smiled "IN THE BED THEN???" you just kept smiling escaping his grasp around you and getting out of the pool with a towel around you "come meet me there" you winked. he is already there before you know it, skinny dipping with kenny is a one way ticket to not be able to move for two days

stan

tbh skinny dipping was your idea, you were bored and you come across a tiktok abt it and was intrigued.

"no." he has his arms cross and stern look, "PLEASEEEEE, your no fun stan please please" you did your best puppy eyes and hands clasp together looking up to him.

he wants to 100%, but he's scared someone's gonna walk by and see you two literally naked. you were so persistent and he couldn't deny you.

he looked at the time and at this time almost everyone in south park, except for you two are sleeping. he agrees and you burst a huge smile taking of your shirt and pants leaving you in your bra and underwear walking to the pool.

"w-wait y/n!" bro is stuttering blushing fluttering embarrassed flushed. i mean its not the first time he's seen you naked but usually you two make out with your eyes closed so he never really admired your whole body.

you jump in the pool, taking off your undergarments in the pool and throwing it, he sighs taking off everything except for his boxers.

the pool water reached just about above your boobs, i mean you could still see them but the water covers some. "stan take off your boxers" he's avoiding eye contact. "fine I'll do it" "WAIT NO" and like that he's naked now.

he is so embarrassed like damn with you naked he's already shy enough. your pool had stairs, it was a 3 step stair. stan was on the 2nd step slouching and man spreading, he's just watching you enjoying the water, you were cute he thought.

but its no fun when he's doing nothing, slowly approaching him the water slowly submerging from your body. your body revealing itself making even more shy, he doesn't notice it but he's smirking while eyeing you. stan had to held back the urge to vomit.

your body was wet, not too wet but wet. your hair tied up hut some strands wet from taking off his boxers earlier. sitting on his lap with one hand on his shoulder and the other on his cheek reaching in for a kiss, but just as your two lips was suppose to meet you pulled away and winking then getting up from the pool drying yourself and wrapping a towel around you.

he scoffs while smirking at the stunt you pulled. no way hes going to let you go like that, he immediately gets up and pulled your arm and pulling you into a kiss causing the towel to fall down. lets just say you two had one hell of a night

kyle

idk about you but i think Kyle's the first to bring it up, he would bring it up once but then forget about it months later

you remembered and suggested it again, he was like okay boo whatever u say. ur abt to take off your underwear and bra and he justs screams at you to stop "WAIT! do it in the pool" "what why" you don't question it any further and get in taking it off in there.

he says he doesnt want anyone seeing you but its 2 am who wants to walk by and peek through the fence?? "what if your neighbors see you, he has windows yk" "his curtains are close and the person in the room is 3 year old boy" "still."

he would stand REALLY close to tou, he covering you as if the kid isnt asleep 5 hours ago. he is full on staring at you, no shame just looking at you up and down.

he's seen you naked before but somehow you naked underwater is just so much better, he then realises hes been staring too long and is begging you to not swim underwater bc rn mans is having a boner 🤞

you two get straight to the point ,theres no teasing no nothing you two are doing it in the pool no need to the go in the bedroom, he kisses you as an accident but a kiss turned into a makeout session then uh yeah....

you'd have to physically pull out yourself bc you know this shit gon last until morning and youre not trying to have a fever.

cartman

when you mentioned it he refuses straight away "no thats gay" even if you beg with your life he wouldn't agree. you'd have to ask three days in advance.

he'll eventually give in, it took alot od brining though. he def takes off his boxers underwater hes too shy, he doesn't admit to it though

and tbh he doesn't regret agreeing to this bc your body being wet like that was paradise for him, you look so hot and so carefree he is not taking his eyes off of you.

he realises it and get moody bc he loves it and doesn't wanna admit. he would splash water at you so he can fuck up your hair, you told him earlier you didn't wanna dive in bc you didnt want your hair to be wet so he makes sure your hair is wet

you'd tease him alot, touching him from behind, kissing his neck, his lips, he loves it sm but he acts as if he hates it like bro its obvious.

the night ended with bed creaks from your room, if you know what o mean

[writer-in-theory]

A Cat Named Eddie — part two

part one part two part three

--

Eddie half-expected it to blow over.

It was cruel, sure, but it wasn't like worse hadn't been said before. He hadn't forgotten the words they used to throw at each other in school, or even the slight off-center teasing the entire group participated in.

Steve had crossed a line first, he was just readjusting the center. That was all.

Except it hadn't blown over, and now things were weird. Eddie hadn't realized how often he saw Steve until that presence disappeared entirely. When Steve dropped off the kids for D&D, he stayed firmly in the car, or sometimes even sent Nancy or Jonathan to do it instead. There weren't anymore night when Steve would come over with a pack of beer and and some cigarettes, whispering for him to not tell Henderson he was smoking again like it was some tightly held secret. Steve still came to movie nights in the Wheeler basement—if only because the others would notice if he wasn't there—but instead of sitting next to each other whispering about the cool new effects or how they would've better handled a horror situation, they sat on opposite sides of the basement.

It sucked, frankly.

"What the hell did you do to Steve?" Dustin came charging at the van the second he pulled back up to the trailer. How long had the kid been waiting there for him?

Eddie groaned, looking over at Dustin as dramatically as he could manage. "Isn't he supposed to be working on your language?"

"Eddie!"

"I didn't do anything to Harrington," Eddie told him, though the expression on Dustin's face showed just how unconvinced he was. "He started it."

He winced at the way it sounded, already anticipating the unimpressed look Dustin was giving him. "Really, Eddie? He started it? What are you, four?"

"Hey! This is adult stuff, you'll understand when you're older."

"Doesn't sound like it. Sounds more like you're in e—"

"Henderson, nothing happened between Steve and I. I dunno what he said to make you think that but we'll be fine."

"He's moping, Eddie," Dustin practically whined. "It hasn't been this bad since Nancy. Can't you just apologize for whatever he thinks you did so you can kiss and make up?"

"Who says I did anything?"

"I think you both did something stupid," Dustin corrected, crossing his arms over his chest. It was alarming how quickly he was beginning to mimic Steve's mannerisms. "Just fix it."

And sure, maybe the kid had a point. He was one of the smartest people Eddie had ever met, so of course he did. That didn't make it any easier to consider how to do such a thing. It was easy to say 'fix it', but a whole lot harder to figure out what to fix in the first place.

So it was another week until anything else happened. Another week of no Steve, another week of not being able to sleep and realizing he'd been relying on phone calls to the other man to lull him back to sleep when he had a nightmare. Even when it was Steve who called, it always seemed like Eddie could get back to sleep much better than before.

Three weeks after the incident, Eddie stepped foot back inside Family Video.

"Get out," Robin immediately spoke from the center counter, not looking up from the tapes she was organizing to place back on the shelves.

"Missed you too, Buckley," Eddie tried to tease, but the look Robin gave him was harsh, cold in a way he wasn't sure the band nerd had ever been capable of before. "Okay, I get it, I hurt Harrington's feelings."

Robin glanced over at a door on the back wall, maybe the break room, before she looked back at him. "You didn't just hurt his feelings, asshole."

"He was—" Eddie started, voice raising a higher pitch before he told himself to relax. Instead, he leaned over the counter to close their proximity. "What if Harrington hasn't really changed as much as you think he has?"

Robin blinked, wordlessly watching him for a few seconds. Then she scoffed, rolled her eyes, then refocused on the tapes scattered around her. "I think you're the one who's stuck in high school, Eddie."

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

"You're so focused on him being a jock that you're totally missing the obvious. I mean come on, I thought Harrington was the biggest dingus I'd ever be friends with but you might've beaten him."

"I hate to ask this..." Eddie started, lifting his eyes to look to the ceiling as though the answer might be plastered there. "But what's the obvious?"

Robin looked up at him, really looked at him, then shook her head. "I cannot wait until you two figure this one out."

--

Eddie had no idea what the fuck Robin meant by that, and it certainly didn't get any clearer as the days passed.

It was impossible not to linger on it, though. He laid in bed unable to sleep, just thinking about what the hell she was trying to tell him. He ended up trying to replay the last day he'd spoken to Steve, tried to figure out where it all went so wrong, how all of this ended up pinned on him when Steve was the one who—

He walked into Family Video that day. Robin and Steve were talking. He eavesdropped. Okay, not the best start.

Steve said Eddie had sat on his lap. And bit him. And slept with him.

No, he said they slept in the same bed.

It still didn't make sense. All of it still sounded like the setup to a bad joke, like the second Eddie acknowledged it Steve would jump out with the 'I gotcha'. None of it made sense, because of there was no 'gotcha' then what was the point of saying all of that to Robin? To the kids? Why make everyone think they were closer than they were? Why bring up all of these things right as Eddie figured out he kind of liked the idea of laying in bed with Steve Harrington?

Eddie wanted to scream.

Instead, he got out of bed, tossed on a jacket, and started walking. It was just beginning to get colder, enough that he needed to curl his shoulders inward the more he walked. There was no destination in mind, though he ended up somewhere anyway.

He ended up by the Harrington house, of course.

It would've been easier to turn around and walk away, pretend he had never showed up there. But Eddie was tired of running, and maybe this would at least prove something to the both of them (what that was, he still wasn't sure). At the very least, maybe the strange ache in his chest that hadn't gone away since he heard Steve's words weeks ago would ease enough that he could breathe freely again. So he knocked.

Steve looked like he wanted to close the door in Eddie's face. Maybe they both deserved it, to not be friends and not figure out this whole situation and to just sit in this hurt forever until all of their friends got tired of their bullshit. Except Eddie was tired of deserved too, having heard plenty of what he 'deserved' after Chrissy was killed.

"We need to talk," Eddie spoke up, and Steve sighed and nodded, though didn't move from the doorway.

"It's fine, man, there's nothing to talk about," Steve told him. "We're good, I'm fine."

"Well as long as Harrington is fine," Eddie returned quickly, wincing immediately after. "I'm not. Nothing about this is fine."

Steve sighed and leaned his hip against the doorframe. And shit, why did he get to look so annoyed that this conversation was happening? Eddie deserved an apology too, didn't he? Didn't he?

"Yeah, okay this was a mistake," Eddie hissed, taking a step backward and shaking his head.

"What now?" Steve snapped, nothing but pure annoyance and frustration in his voice. It reminded him of all the times people told him to shut up, to get over it. Not everyone is gonna like you, not everyone wants to be your friend. But damn did he want to be more with Steve.

"You don't even get it, do you?" Eddie returned, feeling that same uncontrollable anger bubble up in him. How dare Steve be annoyed now, when he'd come to try to figure things out? "You think you can make fun of whatever freak dares to like you? Well guess what, Harrington, it's not fucking funny, and when you fuck up most people want an apology."

"What are you talking about?" Steve threw his hands in the air, one continuing up to tug and pull at his hair. "You've been acting so c—"

"Crazy? That's it, right? I'm crazy Eddie Munson, so desperate for you I'll just bite you or something?"

"What are you—"

"I heard you," Eddie confessed. "At Family Video, I heard you making fun of me. Telling Robin all about how the gay guy was sitting in your lap and sleeping in your bed. That's not cool you know, lies like that get people hurt."

"I—" Steve's hazel eyes widened in realization. He shook his head, disbelieving as he watched Eddie. And fuck, did that look on Steve's face irritate the hell out of him. "You're kidding me."

"Here's a tip, don't talk gossip in public, big boy."

"So you heard me talking, you were confused, and instead of just asking like a normal person, you assumed I was a terrible human being? I have that right?" Well it sounded bad when Steve put it that way.

Eddie shrugged, to which Steve scoffed, shoulders deflating.

"Right, it's not that far off to assume I'd do that, huh?" Steve responded. He looked sad, those hazel eyes looking as doe-like as ever. The ache in Eddie's chest went away, but it was replaced by something sharper, the distinct feeling that something had gone horribly wrong here. "Look, I...I don't know why I named him that. I just...he looked a little rough at first, and then when I gave him a safe place to land he had this huge personality. He's goofy, and full of energy, and so loving I just..." Steve shrugged, bending down to pick up something from behind the door.

It was a fucking cat. The little guy was all black and a little too thin, though looked to be on the up and up. He was curled up comfortably in Steve's arms, where even now one large hand idly scratched behind one ear.

"You have a cat. You got a cat and you named it Eddie," Eddie said dully, monotone with the shock of the whole thing. Dread filled his stomach, pitting something dark and heavy there. "You named a cat after me."

"My mistake," Steve answered, grabbing onto the edge of the door with his free hand. "Forgive me, I'm just a dumb jock, you know."

"Wait, Steve—" Eddie rushed to grab onto the door but it had already closed tightly, leaving him outside with no way to fix the situation.

He'd fucked up, big time, but at least now he knew what Robin meant. He knew, and now he wouldn't stop until he fixed things. He would, because Steve named a cat after him.

--

Just one more part. It was really meant to be just this part but it was getting a little long, my apologies! And don't worry, there'll be fluff and some eddie the cat joy in there too.

Tagging whoever asked on the last reply, sorry if I missed anyone or tagged someone accidentally! It's totally not necessary, but a small reminder that I really appreciate feedback or if you enjoyed it, reblogs💜

@oxidantdreamboat @moonshadows-13 @ohlook-afrog @estrellami-1 @sjullay @doubleb11 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @nelotegreitic @liketheocean @background-noise-headache @wowimwhatibingewatch @obsessive-anddepressive @colorful565 @krazyperson @nonsense-of-dimitri @whimsicalwitchm @zerokrox-blog @electrick-marionnett @the-redthread @juststeddiebrainrot @dollalicia @vi-an-te @lioniheart @unclewaynemunson @stevesbipanic @ajamlessbaby @qomrades @ivydragon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @apricottree @gleek4twd @messrs-weasley @makewavesandwar @renaissan-vvitch @artiststarme @suikatto @proudbaconatornyoom @ilikechocolatemilkh @0o-queendean-o0 @dangdirtydemons @v3lnys @mybradforddream

[oddinary4bts]

Love is a Laserquest | choi san

☆summary: years after your break-up, Choi San comes to you for help. In an attempt to save his life, you escape to your uncle's cabin in the woods far from civilization. Will nostalgia and longing make you fall again, or is Choi San just spinning more lies to you?

☆pairing: gangster!Choi San x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: gangster au, exes au, angst, smut, a smidge of the one bed trope

☆warnings: guns/gun violence (mentioned), knifes/stabbing (mentioned), a bounty over San's head, death of a minor character (named Jungkook my bad), blood, injuries, stitches, probably some wrong medical terminology bc optometrists don't stitch up people lmao, a panic attack, cursing, pet names, explicit content: oral sex (female receiving) -> face riding, let me know if I forgot any!

☆word count: 16.5k

☆a/n: Here's my submission for Outlaw: The Project hosted by @ssaboala. It is coincidentally my first time posting about another group than bts, so I hope this won't disappoint! I really enjoyed writing it (even though it's really sad oop). Also my first time making a moodboard so hopefully it works haha

☆a/n pt2: thank you to @moonleeai for being my ever-so faithful beta reader, love you lots <3

☆☆☆☆☆

And do you still think love is a Laserquest? Or do you take it all more seriously? I’ve tried to ask you this in some daydreams that I’ve had But you’re always busy being make-believe

Love is a Laserquest – Arctic Monkeys

☆☆☆☆☆

The diner is silent, unoccupied. It always is on late weekday evenings, when most patrons have gone to bed, the city falling under a carpet of hushed silence only night can bring forth. It makes the diner feel like it’s straight out of a 70s movie, and it makes for the perfect study sessions too.

Night isn’t always soundless in your part of town. Hence why you’ve been trying to escape, pursuing an education that has been leaving you penniless, but with a bright future ahead. If you make it out of med school at a certain point, that is.

Tonight, you fear the peace that night usually entails has been ruined for you – there were gunshots earlier, close enough for you to see the police cars racing past as the law officers made it to probably yet another gang fight.

There’s been a gang war on your side of town. The diner has always been safe, a refuge for both sides of the war, where they aren’t allowed to fight. To carry in weapons and hatred. No, the moment they cross the threshold of the diner, the gangsters become one family, sharing struggles that only poverty can cause.

You wipe a table clean before walking back towards the counter. Your open laptop waits for you, and you quickly read the study guide you’ve made for yourself, the cardiovascular system and its pathologies forming a maze in your mind that you’ve yet to decode. Luckily enough, you still have a week before the bloc ends and you have to take the exam.

Plenty of time to cram everything about the heart in your thick little skull, you’d say.

Your lips move in time with what you’re reading, attention solely focused on the bright screen when a thump is heard right outside the door. It startles you, and you turn around to see the empty street out of the glass door.

It takes you about ten seconds to notice the dark form sitting on the ground. They’re leaning against the door, head lolling to the side. You assume it must be someone that’s ended unhoused, something that happens far too often where you live.

You’ve always been kind. When you were younger, you were told your kindness would be your demise. Yet you’ve never been able to be anything but kind, even though sometimes it might put you at risk. So you can’t resist but walk to the front door, trying to push it open.

It’s useless – the weight of the person is keeping it tightly shut, though they do straighten a little, as if coming to their senses. They turn, and the moment their profile comes into view you’re brought back eight years in the past. To a time when the world was still a beautiful place, void of violence and cruelty. To a smile so sweet it made flowers blossom on your heart, and to eyes so sharp you knew they had read your soul.

Choi San is sitting outside the door, and the caked blood on his cheek tells you enough – he’s injured. He pushes away from the door before slowly getting up. He clutches his side as he does it, yet when he turns back towards you and faces your horrified eyes, he still offers you a smirk.

You push the door open, thinking about the years between then and now. You had dated him for a few months that had felt like forever, until you had realized in what kind of business he was getting involved with. You had tried to convince him to flee before it was too late, and he kept promising that he would.

Only he never did, hiding lies with beautiful words that made your teenage self swoon, until your parents had realized and forced you to break up. It had been a nasty break-up, filled with hatred and words you didn’t mean yet had needed to say for him to leave.

You remember breaking his heart like it was yesterday.

“Choi San,” you greet him, and when he lets go of his side, you notice blood on his hand.

Something runs cold inside of you, even though he still sports a smirk on his lips.

He says your name, bowing his head. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Months, in fact. Because he does come to the diner sometimes. He usually ignores you, and so do you, so it feels strange to have him speak to you. To hear his voice as his words are addressed to you.

“What…” you trail off, glancing down at the ripped fabric of his black tank top.

He’s got a mean cut on his ribs, and it’s only then that you truly realize that he’s badly injured. Because there’s more – one of his biceps has been sliced open too, though blood is barely oozing out of it in small rivulets. The blood on his cheek is from where you assume he’s been punched with rings, and there’s already an underlying bruise under his eye.

“Got beaten up,” he states the obvious, and you immediately open the door wider to let him in.

He limps in, heading towards the nearest booth, where he plops down and lets out a pained grunt. You make sure no one is outside before shutting the door and locking it, flipping the hanging sign on it so it says closed in case a patron decides to show up.

You take a few steps towards San, hands shaking slightly at your side. Because that’s a grown man, bleeding out on the leather seat of the booth, and his eyes are shut though he looks in pain. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. You haven’t yet started your residency, haven’t really gone from theory to practice… Yet you’re studying to be a doctor, are you not?

“Why are you here?” you ask, though you’re pretty sure you know the answer.

“Didn’t know where else to go,” he says, wincing as one of his eyes opens. He tilts his head to look towards you. “Word around the block says…” he pauses, takes a deep breath before continuing, “that you’re studying to be a doctor”.

So you are right. He’s here because he needs your help, and you’re not quite sure how you feel about it.

“Why…” You look for words, and it takes you a moment to realize that it doesn’t matter.

For all the history between you and him, Choi San doesn’t deserve to bleed out to death on a cheap leather seat in a forgotten diner on the dangerous side of town.

He has the decency to chuckle at the start of your question, which only makes him wince in pain once again.

“Don’t move,” you tell him, and it’s a little stupid because clearly, he’s in no state to move.

He doesn’t question it, and you run to the kitchen to thoroughly wash your hands and grab the first aid kit. At night, no cooks stay around, and you usually only reheat food if needed, which doesn’t really happen. You haven’t had any client coming in at night in weeks… until San, that is. So no one is there to see what is going on, which you reckon is a relief. Because you have no idea what’s going on.

You return to the booth where San is waiting, patiently. He’s clearly wiped his hand on his face because there’s fresh blood on his forehead, and you almost balk at the sight of it.

“What have you done?” you mutter, more to yourself than to him.

It seems he’s still in sync with you because he still hears. “Got involved with the wrong crowd.”

You put the first aid kit down on the table, ignoring his eyes when they flutter open, and he rests his gaze on you.

“I don’t know if I can help you,” you say as you unzip the kit and throw it open. You spare his side a quick glance. “This looks like you’re going to need stitches.”

He makes an effort of looking down at himself, though it mostly fails as he doesn’t raise his head from the seat. “Right.”

You grab everything you think you might need – alcohol swabs to clean his skin, fresh linen to bandage his side and arm, and stuff for his cheek too. He carefully observes you, with that piercing gaze of his that used to make you go crazy inside when you were young and impressionable.

You vaguely motion at him, and he cocks an eyebrow. “What?”

“Are you able to sit up?” you ask. “I can’t reach you if you’re lying back like this.”

His pink tongue darts to wet his lips, and he nods curtly. “Let me…” he trails off, resting a bloody hand on the table while he grabs at the back of the booth to push himself up. It has new blood appearing on his side, and you quickly move towards him, putting some linen against it.

As if it’s going to do anything. He clearly needs stitches, and you’ve got nothing with you to stitch him up.

“Fuck,” he curses lowly as he’s finally sitting. You just keep the linen on his side, eyes a little wide.

Your gazes connect inevitably, and time slows. You think about how he used to smile, how his eyes used to hold a softness you haven’t had the chance to see again since he’s walked out of your life.

Or rather, since you kicked him out of your life.

“I don’t think I can help,” you whisper, and his eyes flicker to your lips.

“I can’t go to the hospital,” he admits, shame turning his features into a mask of regret. “They… If they find me, I’m dead.”

Dread fills every ounce of your being. “San, what have you been doing?”

He looks away from your insistent gaze, scoffing slightly. “You don’t want to know.”

He isn’t wrong; you genuinely don’t want to know. Because he means nothing good, even with all the memories you share with him.

“Is it going to put me in danger?” you ask, as he still obstinately avoids your gaze.

He seems to freeze in front of you, as if you’ve pressed pause to your favourite show. To avoid the awkwardness, you busy yourself with grabbing one of his hands so he can hold the linen in place before you start washing the cut on his arm. It’s not deep, but you’re pretty sure it’ll still leave a mean scar, especially considering he can’t go to the hospital.

The thought has a drop of cold sweat roll along your spine. People want him dead. People want Choi San, the man you know as a young, scared teenager just trying to find a way to make his life better, dead. You remember the innocence in his smile – has he smiled at all in the years apart?

“I should go,” he says flatly. He moves to stand, but you hold him down, two hands firmly placed on his shoulders. It makes him wince, and you quickly release your grip.

“Don’t,” you tell him. “Let me at least patch you up.”

His eyes shut again as his head hangs low. “I am so sorry.”

You don’t even know who he is apologizing to, or why he is. All you know is that it causes your heart to clench in your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs.

When you were younger, you believed San was your star-crossed lover. You believed your high school sweethearts romance would grow until you’d be old and grey and at the end of a very long road. You had dreamed of a future with him, the way only teenagers can dream – with no sense of reality. Because your reality had never been to end up by his side.

His choices had been proof enough of it.

You still remember the day you first kissed. Under an August meteor shower, with just the night sky as your witness. It had been hesitant, slow and soft, just like everything with San. And you had believed the lie, trusted it with every beat of your little heart, until your parents had found out the truth about him.

Until they had broken your heart, even before you had broken his.

If the stars had known then, what was going to happen to you and Choi San, would they still have shone through the night?

He lets out a pained sound as you gently dab at the cut on his bicep. You clean the skin around the wound in and of itself, and he watches you carefully, piercing gaze not missing how your face clouds with memories.

“How have you been doing?” he asks so softly you think his words are a gentle summer breeze on your features.

You can almost still smell the summer night air of that field where you had stargazed, where you’d always meet so long ago.

“I’ve been okay,” you answer, truthfully. Because even though you haven’t seen him, you have lived your life apart from him. Have evolved without him by your side. “Better than you, visibly.”

He didn’t expect the joke. It makes him snort, and then a soft smile grows on his lips, softening the edges of his hard features. “You haven’t changed.”

You have, and yet you haven’t. Like him, you think there’s a part of you that is still sixteen, and will forever be. A part of you that remained stuck in the moment when you watched him walk away in the rain, as if even the sky had to cry for his broken heart.

“Wish I could say the same about you,” you murmur, nostalgia a melancholic song in your words.

He chooses to remain silent, because the proof of how much he’s changed is sitting right in front of you, wounded and bleeding and hurt. The hurt is behind his eyes, in the shadows of the past that have also been obscuring your vision.

“Yeah,” he lets out, barely audible.

And then silence reigns between you, because as much as you once loved him, eight years have made you strangers. You don’t know anything about his life except the dirty, obvious darkness that surrounds him, and he doesn’t know anything except that you are studying to be a doctor…

Which leads you to wonder how does he know in the first place?

You ask him, as you’re wrapping the linen around his bicep to make a makeshift bandage. You’re proud of the result, though your fingers can’t resist but linger on the taut skin over his muscle, surprised at how soft it still is.

“I’ve heard you mention it,” he admits, as you take a step away to look at the material on the table, as if it’ll suddenly make stitches appear for you to put them in his skin. “One of the times I was here.”

“You never said hi,” you reproach him, unable to hide the ghost of a bite in your tone.

“Neither did you,” he points out, and he isn’t wrong.

All you can do is purse your lips as you finally decide to clean his skin. But for that, you have to rid him of his tank top, to make sure there’s no fabric in the wound. You look at him, cheeks somehow burning even though all you’re doing is taking care of a patient.

Though he’s not a patient, and you’re not in a hospital. You’re just a server at a dusty, old diner and he’s just your teenage lover, wounded by his dangerous actions.

“Should I grab scissors to remove your shirt?” you ask, though you’re speaking to yourself more than to him.

He still finds it in him to tease. “You want me out of my shirt?” he enquires, smirk gracing his lips again. “Say no more.”

He tries moving, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “Don’t,” you warn. “You’ll make it bleed more.”

He purses his lips, because nodding. “Right.” He glances at the first aid kit, before his eyes trail to your face again. “You got scissors in that?”

There are. You grab them, before turning towards him. It feels strange: you’ve never undressed him before. You had always wanted to wait, back then, before you slept together. You believed you were too young, and San had always respected it.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” you tell him as you take a step closer to him.

He slightly leans back, furrowing his eyebrows. “What do you plan to do with those that might hurt?”

You roll your eyes, playfully, before taking the two other steps leading to right in front of his legs. You notice that they are slightly parted, allowing you to come closer, and you take a steadying breath before reaching between you, pulling at the fabric of his tank top.

“Stay still and you shouldn’t get hurt,” you whisper, ignoring the heaviness of his piercing gaze on you.

It burns right through you, and you have to tame the beats of your heart at the feeling of the warm skin of his shoulder against the back of your fingers as you bring your other hand forward, until you’ve started cutting his shirt.

It’s stuck to his side where blood has dried, and he winces but remains still and silent as you keep going, pulling on it a little harder to be able to cut. The moment stretches into infinity, because you can’t help but take your time. It reminds you of how you’d used to run your fingers on his back, under his shirt, when you napped in the field in the summertime. In an idyllic world where gangs and violence and war were mere inventions of the media, and not a reality that surrounded you.

You’d loved the field. The wildflowers, the open air, the way it was just you and him and a few lazy bumblebees as clouds lazily crossed the sky above. You were so young then, so innocent. Hands unstained from blood, from his blood.

Because as you cut, the hand touching his shirt stains with blood. You pale at the sight of it, but you keep going, pushing through until you’re done, gently pulling the fabric from his body until he’s sitting there, shirtless, with a long wound on his ribs.

You can’t help but notice his toned chest and the defined abs on his stomach. Though blood mars his skin, turning it into a piece of violence, Choi San is still beautiful. Beautiful in a dark, dangerous way that has you glance outside, making sure no one is looking.

But the streets are empty, void of life at this time of the night. At least, they mostly always are.

“You will need stitches,” you state again as if you both don’t know already.

“I can’t…”

An idea forms in your brain. It’s a stupid idea, and you don’t even know why it crosses your mind.

Your uncle has a hunting cabin far in the woods. He’s a nurse himself, and he’s always kept everything over there in case someone got injured and he had to stitch them up. You haven’t gone in forever, but you still remember the tall trees, the deep forest scent that reminds you of autumn and leaves and grey days spent reading by the fireplace.

You never went hunting, but you did accompany your father when he went, needing an escape from the city once in a while. An escape from a life that was slowly becoming too real.

Your uncle is currently halfway across the country, so you know you’d be alone at the cabin. You glance at your laptop over your shoulder – you have three days off in front of you before your next class on Monday. Indeed, the Friday class is pre-recorded and to watch online in your free time, and you figure you can always watch it some other time.

So you turn towards Choi San, almost surprised that he’s real and he’s still sitting in front of you, honey skin cut open on his ribs.

“I might know a place where you can go,” you admit, with a small voice, surprising both you and him. Because you doubt he expects you to want to help, after tonight.

“What?” he asks.

“My uncle’s cabin,” you remind him, because you’ve told him about it all those years ago. “He should have all that I need to stitch you up.”

San looks down at himself. “You’ve just cut my shirt open.”

It sounds a little dumbfounded, and you can’t help the nervous laugh that falls from your mouth. Because even though it doesn’t look too deep, the wound still is terrifying in and of itself.

“I’ll bandage it,” you whisper. “Before we go.”

He seems like he ponders for a time. You watch the debate across his features, his eyes falling to a spot on your chin. He looks sad, troubled and defeated. “I can’t… I can’t do this to you.”

You ignore his words, carefully washing his side. You avoid the cut and try to be as gentle as you can, but his muscles still flex as he clenches his fists from the pain.

He’s strong. That much hasn’t changed. Because he doesn’t make any sound as you finish washing him and then patch him up with those same careful hands. And when you move to his face, cleaning the blood, his eyes flutter shut, and he sighs softly.

He looks so much like he looked then that your heart aches, and you find yourself blinking away tears for this man who’s had it so rough he believed joining a gang would save him.

“I should have come to you before,” he murmurs. “You’re much gentler than Hongjoong.”

You don’t know the guy he mentioned, and you don’t feel like asking. Don’t feel like acknowledging his words, so you just finish with his cheek before stepping away from the peaceful aura that was treacherously pulling you in.

Like all those years ago, you reckon.

“Let me make a call,” you say, turning away from him as you move to the counter. You feel the weight of his eyes between your shoulder blades as you get your phone from next to your laptop. You call your boss, and as someone that’s never called in sick before, you feel anxiety flush through you.

Because you’re not sick. And how could you tell him that you need to take care of your ex-boyfriend of eight years ago?

Seokhyun picks up on the first ring, voice groggy with sleep when he mutters, “Hello?”

“Boss,” you greet him. You scrape your throat and spare a look towards San who’s watching you curiously. “An emergency came up, and I have to leave the diner.” You swallow the lump in your throat that’s formed from lying, and then you add, “There haven’t been any customers all night, so I was wondering… would you be comfortable with me closing for the rest of the night?”

Your boss says your name, a little reproachfully. But then he sighs, because he knows just as well as you what a good employee you’ve always been. “Are you going to be able to come in tomorrow night?” he asks.

You pull at dry skin on your bottom lip, assessing San’s state. You could always come back to the city for work…

“You know what, I know you’ve got that big exam coming up,” your boss says, sighing into the phone. “Why don’t you take the next week off so you can take care of your emergency and focus on your studies?”

If Seokhyun wasn’t a fifty-three year old married and father of three children man, you think you’d ask him to marry you right now.

“That would be really helpful,” you tell him, gratitude dripping from your voice. “Are you sure that won’t be a problem for the diner?”

“The diner won’t lose profit if it closes for three nights in the week,” he points out. “I’ll see if I can get you replaced for the evening shift on Sunday.”

You thank him again as he grumbles that it’s nothing. He wishes you good luck, and when the line goes silent, you finally meet San’s gaze again.

“All sorted out,” you tell him, offering him a nod. “Let me just close the diner, and then we can go.”

He nods, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He observes you as you do so, quickly closing the diner like you’ve done about a hundred times before, though this time you’re far more excited to go. You grab a plastic bag to put away the bloody swabs, and though he groans in pain, San gets up to help you clean the blood that stained the cheap leather of the booth.

Soon enough, you’re ready to go, and you walk outside with the plastic bag in one hand and your backpack on your shoulders as San chuckles, looking down at himself.

“Do you have a shirt for me?” he asks as he follows you out.

You lock the door behind you before glancing at him. He’s quite the sight, naked from the waist up and bandaged like he is, and you can’t help the small chuckle you let out as you glance towards your car, that’s luckily parked right in front.

Though it’s a deadbeat car, you trust it enough to know it’ll make the trip to your uncle’s cabin, even in the middle of the night.

“My ex left some sweaters on the back seat,” you admit as you unlock your car doors and open the trunk to put your backpack and the plastic bag in there. There’s no chance in hell you’ll leave a plastic bag full of bloody swabs near your work.

You see San nod from the periphery of your vision, and then he’s opening the door to the backseat. “Your ex, huh?” he mutters as he grabs a sweater you used to love wearing and that you haven’t convinced yourself to give back to Hyunmin.

He carefully puts it on, and you’re pretty sure just the motion is going to make blood seep through the bandage. Somehow, you don’t care that it might stain Hyunmin’s sweater.

Hyunmin was a cheater, and even though you never really loved him, it took you months before you found the strength to break up with him. Needless to say, he doesn’t deserve his clothes back.

“Yeah,” you flatly say as you move towards the driver’s seat. You sit, and San follows you, naturally, as if you’ve done it a thousand times before.

As you turn the keys in the engine, San asks, “Have you dated a lot?”

You bristle at the question, shooting him an embarrassed look. “Have you?”

“No,” he replies, features fully serious.

You purse your lips, focusing on the road as you start driving. You need to put gas in the car if you want to get to your uncle’s cabin, so you make your way towards the closest one. It takes you a moment before you register how San has stiffened next to you.

“Can we…” he trails off, and he sinks in the seat, trying to hide. “I can’t be seen here.”

You immediately press on the accelerator, and your car speeds down the street as you pass in front of the gas station. You glance at San only when you’re stopped at a red light. He’s pulled the hood of the sweater over his features, and he’s doing his best to hide.

“Where can we stop?” you ask.

“Next town over,” he answers. “I just can’t be seen in Bangtan territory.”

Right. You have no knowledge of how the gangs have divided your city, but you’re not surprised Bangtan has this part of town. It’s the industrial area, and you assume there’s a lot of money to be made around here.

“Sounds good,” you gently say, and then you’re driving again, the light turning green, allowing you to speed away into the night.

You drive silently all the way to the next town, watching your city disappear to be replaced by trees until buildings reappear. San is looking outside the window, and you can’t help but wonder how he’s been doing, truly. How he managed to get injured like he is right now, and mostly, if his dreams of running away still occupy his thoughts.

He had begged you, the evening you had broken up with him. Told you he’d make enough money to be able to move with you across the country and build yourself a nice little life over there. You had wanted to believe him for so long, until your parents had opened your eyes on just how he was trying to make money.

“Do you need anything?” you ask as you finally reach the gas station, pulling into the driveway. You park next to a pump, turning to face him only to find him already watching you.

“I don’t have money to pay for food,” he admits. He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I lost my wallet in the… altercation.”

You gently put a hand on his forearm. “Hey, my treat. We have to eat.”

He inhales deeply, letting out the breath slowly, before he nods. “Alright. I owe you.”

You reckon he’ll owe you for a lot more than just food at a gas station, but you choose not to say it. Not when you feel like someone’s watching over your shoulder, watching you drive away in the night with the person they are looking for.

You know it’s paranoia. No one followed you out of the city and into this town. It just feels too strange to have him here, with you. In your car, on the way to your uncle’s cabin, as if eight years have gone out the window. As if you can still be young and innocent.

It’s stupid, because you can’t. Time has changed him; time has changed you. And in just a few years you’ll be a doctor, and you’ll finally get out of this hellhole of a city, of its dangerous streets.

Of its equally dangerous man, that you know could probably pull you back in with one of his many well-crafted lies, one of the dreams he weaved expertly, whispering it into your ear.

You take a deep breath before getting out of the car. You go into the station, grab snacks for the next few days and then head to the counter. The guy behind nods as you approach, and you pay for the food and for gas before wishing him a good night and returning outside. San is still squatting in the car, clearly trying to hide, and you put the food on the backseat before putting gas in.

You watch his profile as you put gas in the car. Back when you were dating, his features weren’t as sharp, as glass-cutting as they now are. He used to sport a rounder face, but today you wonder if you’d get a papercut on his jaw. You wouldn’t even be surprised.

When you’re done with gas, you sit back next to him, and you quickly bring the engine back to life before pulling out in the street. As soon as you exit the city, darkness falls on the two of you, tall trees standing on the two sides of the road again. San doesn’t speak much, and it doesn’t take you long to realize he’s dozing off next to you.

“Hey, everything okay?” you ask, suddenly worried that he might have lost too much blood. Which, you reckon, you should have thought about earlier.

He sighs, glancing towards you. “Just tired.”

“Don’t…” you trail off. “Don’t fall asleep.”

He chuckles. “You’re afraid I’m going to die on you?”

“Choi San,” you warn. “Don’t you dare say stuff like that.”

He smiles, but you reckon he’s a little pale. Or at least you think he is, in the silver light of the moon up above. “I think I’m fine. Just…” He offers you a weak smile, though you’ve returned your attention on the winding road. “Just exhausted. I haven’t slept in three days.”

Worry clutches your heart, and you nibble at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “What’s been going on?”

He slightly shrugs. “I can’t tell you. I don’t want to put you in danger…”

“Am I not already in danger by just helping you?”

The silence is telling enough. And it remains for a while until San finally speaks.

“I was in a gunfight a week ago. Accidentally shot the youngest member of the other gang. He didn’t make it, and the gang has put a bounty on my head. Ateez took my gun and told me to run; I laughed in their face and said I wasn’t a coward. Then I got attacked by two guys with knives earlier, and I made it to the diner because I had nowhere else to go.”

Now the silence is deafening, heavy, and you think you’ve altogether stopped breathing. You’re struck with an image of San in the summer sun, smiling wide as he put a flower behind your ear, claiming you were the most beautiful girl he had ever met. The contrast with who he is now – a product of night, shrouded in darkness with no hint of that smile on his lips – is stark. And you wonder when’s the last time he has seen the sun, when’s the last time his life wasn’t violence like this.

When you say nothing, he scoffs, resting his head against the window as if it’d allow him to escape. Because clearly he wants to escape – he’s just told you that he’s killed someone after all.

And you don’t know what to say. Don’t know how to react to someone confessing murder. All you can do is stare at the street ahead, hoping you won’t end up in a gunfight with San. Because where would that lead you, other than in the dramatics of death?

You don’t speak for the rest of the ride. You don’t think he sleeps either, and dawn is clinging to the far horizon when you get to your uncle’s cabin, in a secluded forest that seems straight out of a fairytale. Instead of bringing you awe like it usually does, the sight of it makes you think of all the murder mysteries you had been obsessed with when you were younger, before you realized how horrible the real world truly is.

Neither of you move, as you turn off the engine of the car, and you fall into even more of a tensed silence, though this time you can hear the chirping of the early birds. It’s peaceful, so peaceful you can barely even grasp how tangible the presence of San is next to you. The presence of his actions too, looming between the two of you like a sword of Damocles.

You move first. Putting a hand on the knob, hoping to escape the heaviness into the dawn. San speaks before you can though, and your heart stops in your chest.

“I never meant for him to get hurt,” he murmurs, and you think he’s speaking to himself more than to you. “Everything went too fast, my gun was in my hand and I just… in situations like these, you don’t have time to think.” He leans his head against the headrest, eyes closing. “All I can picture since it’s happened is him falling and blood. Like a fucking blossoming rose, all around him.” He rests his closed fist on his forehead, rubbing it hard. “I haven’t been able to sleep; I’ve been sick every time I’ve tried to eat…”

“San,” you interrupt as you break and break for him. Because this is the San you know. This is the young boy that just wanted to escape and live in a better world. You can almost taste his remorse, taste his regret and shame. It’s poisonous, treacherous, a slippery slope that can’t lead anywhere good. “Let’s get you in. I want to get that cut on your ribs checked.”

He falls silent, and for a moment you feel guilty. Because what if he had more to say? You don’t even think you would have been able to listen. You need the escape, and you know he’ll permit it. Because the man next to you is a broken man, a fracture of what he could have been.

You step out of the car, blinking away tears – from the anxiety, from the exhaustion, and perhaps even from the pain you feel for him. He follows you, wincing as he swings his legs out of the car. He stumbles a little as he stands, but soon enough, he grows steady on his feet, and his attention moves to you. You climb the stairs of the cabin, lifting the rug to find the small trap that leads to the spare key. The padlock is rusted, but it stands strong as you put in the code, and a click is heard when you pull on it.

A few seconds later, you’ve unlocked the front door, pushing it open to reveal the cabin as you remember it. Not a single item is out of place, though dust covers everything, a clear indication that no one has been here in years. You let San in, before going back to the car to get the food you bought, bringing it in and putting it in the fridge. Three full gas canisters hide under the counter, and you sigh in relief – you’ll be able to get the generator on for some electricity.

You motion to the kitchen table. “Have a seat,” you tell San, who somehow looks like a lost puppy. “I’ll get the first aid kit.”

He nods, remaining silent, eyes downcast. You only move when he’s seated, heading to the bathroom area of the cabin, where you startle a spider that almost makes you scream out loud. You keep it in, heart beating out of your chest as you get the kit before moving back into the main area.

San is leaning against the chair, eyes closed. He senses you approaching, and one of his eyes cracks open to watch you carefully, a little like he did earlier, at the diner. It looks so similar to how he used to look at you, when you joined him at the field, that you stop in your tracks, heart squeezing once again.

You don’t like the way Choi San is making you feel, that’s for sure.

“Take off the sweater,” you tell him, putting the kit down on the table. You put some clean linen next to it, to put what you need over it, before washing your hands with the disinfectant you find in the kit. You put latex gloves on after, and then you fish wire and a surgical needle from the first aid kit that you carefully put down on the linen once you’ve torn the packages open.

As you were doing all of that, San took off the shirt, struggling a little as it meant he had to lift his right arm, which pulled at the skin of his ribs, where the cut clearly has started bleeding again. Though, if you’re honest to yourself, you’re pretty sure he’s been bleeding this whole time, even though it probably was just some fine rivulets.

Indeed, the cut isn’t all that deep, you remind yourself. Mostly because you don’t want to even think about the consequences of the blood loss. As long as he stays awake, you figure he’s fine – he would have lost consciousness a while ago if he was losing a lot of blood.

You remove the bandage you had carefully put in place earlier, wincing at the sight of the blood that’s seeped through it. San keeps his eyes close, lets you clean his skin again in peace, and you feel sick to your stomach as you realize you don’t have any anesthetics for the pain that stitching him up will cause. Indeed, the pocket in which your uncle usually leaves the lidocaine is empty, and you remember that he’s had to use it for your dad when he accidentally cut himself with a machete last summer.

“Huh,” you let out. You chuckle nervously. “It’s going to hurt like a bitch.”

His eyes narrow, and he clenches his jaw. “Don’t worry about it.”

You worry at your bottom lip, holding his gaze as you gauge if he’s serious. When his gaze doesn’t falter, you offer him a curt nod, before getting the wire and needle ready under his watchful eyes.

You hand him some linen. “To bite on,” you explain as he just cocks an eyebrow quizzically. That makes his gaze widen a little as if he’s just now realizing how serious you were about it hurting, but he takes it nonetheless.

You think about the theory of how to stitch someone up. It was in your previous block – you watched hours of videos of it in an attempt to desensitize yourself to it. You don’t think it compares to the real thing, but at least you’re somehow confident of what you’re doing when you start.

San startles, groaning in pain, and you offer him a glare. “Don’t move, or it’ll be worse.”

A drop of sweat rolls down his temple, but he still nods. Even as you keep on stitching him, he remains as still as he physically can, though you don’t think he even notices how he’s trembling. Or maybe that’s you – you don’t even know.

Somehow, you make it through the whole thing. You think San might have passed out at some point, but he’s wide awake when you finish the knot to keep the stitches in place, looking up to meet his face.

He’s panting and tears of pain wet his waterline. He blinks them away as he takes the linen out of his mouth, dropping it on the table.

“Fuck,” he curses.

“Let me…” you trail off, mind set on getting something to at least help him cool off, because he’s clearly been heating up.

You grab a washcloth and a small bucket, and head outside to walk down to the lake. You fill the bucket halfway, and take a few seconds to observe the calm surrounding you, hoping that it can ease the nerves rolling inside your heart like dark clouds do on the horizon whenever a storm is coming. You feel it in your bones – you have a murderer in your uncle’s cabin.

You have to keep that in mind. To not let Choi San in like you did when you were a young impressionable teenager.

You sigh, closing your eyes to breathe in the fresh morning air. The sun is peaking over the horizon now, and you bask in its hesitant rays for all of twenty seconds before you convince yourself to go back in. You’ve got a patient to take care of, after all.

San hasn’t moved an inch while you were outside. The only indication that he hasn’t died on you is the groan he lets out as you put the wet washcloth on his forehead. You tap his cheek gently, as if to say, ‘suck it up, I’m just trying to take care of you’.

Which is exactly what you’re doing, isn’t it?

You watch him carefully for a few seconds before tapping his shoulder this time around.

“There’s a bed,” you remind him. “You’d be better passing out in a bed.”

He groans again, cracking an eye open. “I’ve just been repeatedly poked with a needle,” he drawls. “Give me a second.”

It makes you laugh. Because of the nerves, maybe. You’re not quite sure. All you know is that you’re laughing, and San opens his second eye to look at you as if you’re crazy. And you laugh for longer than you should – you’re exhausted after all, especially considering you haven’t slept since yesterday morning. So far, adrenaline has been keeping you going, but you can tell you’re about to crash.

“Sorry,” you apologize once you calm down. “This has just been…”

“A lot,” San finishes for you. “I know.”

You nod once before glancing at the doorway to the bedroom. It has no door, as your uncle and your dad usually come here alone and they don’t mind sharing a bed. It makes you realize that you’ll have to share it with San, which you reckon you should have thought about before. Because there’s no way in hell you’ll share a bed with him, especially after he’s told you why he’s being hunted.

There’s always the option of going into town later today so you can get a sleeping bag and floor mat to sleep on. But you’re far too tired right now to even consider driving, so you motion to the bed once again.

“Stick to your side; I’ll stick to mine.”

He smirks though he’s extremely pale. A lot paler than he was before, and you swallow a sudden lump in your throat. Because what if he dies? What are you supposed to do with him if he dies?

“You’ll have to help me to get to the bed ‘cause I don’t think I can move,” he says once his smirk dies. He curses under his breath. “I’m so pathetic.”

You put your hand on his shoulder again, reassuringly, eyes holding his. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re hurt. Everyone is pathetic when they’re hurt.”

He gulps before nodding once. It takes everything in you not to offer him more comfort because you feel like the slope would tilt forwards far too much if you did. Instead, you help him to get up, wincing as he puts most of his weight on you, clutching his side with one hand. You’re infinitely aware of how his skin is sticky with sweat, but you ignore it as you slowly walk to the bedroom.

You can only hope the stitches will hold because you don’t think he’d be able to withstand another round of them.

You finally reach the bedroom and help San sit on the side of the bed. He sighs, eyes shut tightly, and he doesn’t move for a time. When he does, it’s to stiffly lie down on his side.

“You might want to sleep on your back,” you inform him. “I don’t want you rolling around and messing up the stitches.”

He glares at you, though he looks like he’s already half out of it. You hold his gaze until he gives in, turning on his back with a deep sigh. You arrange pillows around him to make sure he’s not moving, and by the time you’re done, his breathing has already evened out.

For a moment, you just watch him sleep. You see him in the field where young love blossomed like a trillion wildflowers. You can almost breathe his pollen again, can almost feel the softness of his skin under your fingertips.

But he’s not what he used to be. Back then, you felt like you had discovered something new. Love, infatuation, affection, and desire, all in the form of the man sleeping next to you. You’d used to kiss, dance and sing to a song only your souls knew, and now you don’t think you recognize him anymore.

As much as he is him, he’s also but just the ghost of what he was. He’s trouble, danger in the shape of innocence, and you recall his words from earlier. You recall the despair, the regret and sorrow that haunted him after he told you. You can’t let him get to your head.

You reckon sleep might help. Though you’re afraid he’s going to waste away in his sleep, so you set up an alarm every hour, before climbing on the other side of the bed. You don’t pull on the covers, mostly because the cabin is warm, and you can imagine it’s just going to get hotter as the sun goes up and the summer heat slowly sizzles into the countryside.

It’s a good thing you put an alarm on. Because when it rings an hour later, you don’t even remember falling asleep. You’re pretty sure the second your head touched the mattress, you were out to the land of dreams. You groan, mostly because you’ve got a slight headache, but you power through it to make sure San is still breathing.

When you see his chest moving up and down steadily, you let yourself fall back asleep.

This goes on for the whole morning, and you only force yourself to stay up when your phone shows that it’s passed noon. As you had suspected earlier, the cabin has gotten extremely warm, so you force yourself out of bed to open all the windows, and then you use the washcloth from earlier to gently wash San’s face of the sweat.

He doesn’t even flinch in his sleep, but he’s still breathing and for now, that’s all that matters.

You head back to the main room, grabbing a pack of chips from where you had left the food earlier, and then you move outside to sit by the lake. Mostly because you need to put distance between you and San, but also just because the childhood memories of this place have you in their hold, and they’ve decided to make you miss the times when you’d swim around with your cousins before both of them had moved out of town.

One day, it’s going to be you too. You already know where you’d go – on the other side of the country, as far away from here as possible. You just want to forget all about the place you grew up in, and you know that, in a few years, you will have forgotten.

Though you’re pretty sure a certain piercing gaze will haunt you forever, especially after the events of today.

When another hour passes, you head back inside, putting the empty bag of chips in the trash before you check up on San. He’s still asleep, but this time he doesn’t look as pale as he did earlier. You assume it’s going to take him a while before he wakes, so you head to the nearest town to grab more food. Mostly to busy yourself, but also just because you know San will need a place to hide for a lot longer than just the weekend. Might as well make sure you have enough for him to survive a couple of days. In town, you also stop to eat at a small café on a small terrasse in the shade of a few trees, and then you grab the food you think you might need at the grocery store.

It’s the middle of the afternoon when you get back, realizing that you forgot to buy a floor mat. As you spy San, who hasn’t moved an inch since he’s fallen asleep, you figure that sleeping next to him tonight should be fine.

As long as his presence in your vicinity doesn’t drag you down memory lane again.

You bought some meat in town, so you head to the little shack outside where the generator is hiding. There’s a gas canister right next to it – also full – and you busy yourself for the next twenty minutes trying to figure out how to get it started. When it finally rumbles to life, you head back inside to put the meat in the fridge, which has finally come to life.

When you hear a groan, you quickly jog to San’s side, fully expecting to find him awake. Surprisingly, he’s still asleep, and you stay next to him for a full minute, thinking he might groan again, though he remains entirely silent.

If it wasn’t for his chest moving up and down steadily, you’d believe him to be dead. But now that a few hours have passed, you’re pretty positive he’ll make it, though he’s probably going to sleep through the day and possibly through the next one too.

Which leaves you in the most peaceful atmosphere you’ve been in for a while, with the opportunity to study as you listen to the rush of wind in the leaves of the tall trees surrounding the cabin. You sit outside, this time near the fireplace, and you study until your stomach grumbles, indicating that it is time for you to cook.

You cook the meat you’ve bought on the grill outside, feeling thankful that your dad once showed you how to use it. You go back in to grab a bottle of water before you eat, and you’re bent in the fridge when you hear San moan again, and this time it sounds like he’s saying something.

You gently close the fridge, making your way to the bedroom. San hasn’t moved, but his features are creased in a frown, and sweat is rolling down his temples. You wet the washcloth, gently wipe his face, and you’re about to leave when he moans again.

It takes you far too long to realize he’s apologizing. What for, you can’t really tell. Though you remember his troubled eyes this morning, you remember his story, and your heart breaks in your chest.

He’s haunted. You think the ghost of the dead guy will probably haunt him for the rest of his life. And suddenly you’re struck thinking maybe, maybe if you hadn’t broken his heart all those years ago, you could have saved him from the gang.

Maybe you could have opened his eyes.

You still remember the break-up like it was yesterday. You remember the rain, him leaving without once looking back, but mostly you remember the words you had uttered. Ghosts of their own, that feel more real now that he’s come back into your life.

*****

                “You’re going to get hurt!” you yelled. “You’ll get hurt, San. What are you thinking?”

He scoffed, shaking his head, and little droplets of water shot all around him. “I’ll be careful. We need the money if we ever want to make it out of this shit town.”

You blinked away tears, folding your arms on your chest as you tried to keep your heart from breaking. Though you reckoned it had broken when your parents had told you what they knew about San. When your father had mentioned Ateez, and you’d truly realized what it meant that he was part of a gang. San, your sweet, soft, and bubbly San, in a gang that had murdered someone just a few weeks ago.

“But that’s not a way to make money!” you screamed, hoping he’d understand. Hoping he’d hear the truth in your words, hoping he’d change his mind before it was too late. “Why don’t you get a part-time job, like me? Then we can go to college and get jobs in a nice city on the other side of the country!”

“It won’t work,” he drawled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I want to be out soon, not in a few years. I barely even have a roof over my head, Y/n…”

“Come live with me,” you choked out around the lump in your throat.

You both knew fully well that your parents would never let him come near you again.

“I can’t.”

You cried, hiding your face in your hands. You cried thinking of the field where you usually met, thinking about its beauty now fading into ugliness. You thought about the wildflowers, withered and dead as autumn had come. You thought about how you were convinced you knew what love was.

“What’s the point?” you asked then. “What’s the point of putting your life in danger? Life isn’t some sort of a game, Choi San. Worse, what if you have to hurt someone? Do you think you’ll be able to pull the trigger?”

He clenched his jaw, hard. “Do me a favour and stop asking questions.”

You closed your eyes, feeling sick to your stomach. Because it couldn’t be. Not San. Not your smiley San, who’d always weave dandelions crowns with you, as you’d pretend you were a queen and a king of that field you had found. An empty field, an abandoned farmland that was just yours and his to explore. That had been home to your first kiss, and all of those that had followed.

Now you wondered why he had always wanted to meet there in the first place. Was he trying to hide?

"If you love me, you’ll get out while you still can,” you said as your tears suddenly ended.

There was a weird sense of clarity in you, suddenly. You remembered the day you had fallen in love, the moment you had first kissed. You remembered the stars in the sky above, the meteors falling for the two of you. You remembered the music on the radio you had brought. Some Arctic Monkeys song about heartbreak, about moving on and failing to do so. As a joke, when it had ended, you had asked San, “Do you think love is a laserquest?”

His answer had been cryptic, mysterious, things that had made you believe he was the one. “Maybe. Maybe it is, and I’ve shot you in the back while you weren’t looking. Maybe I’m that annoying player that won’t leave you alone.”

“I’ll never find you annoying,” you had replied.

But today, watching the rain rolling down his face like tears, you realized that maybe, maybe you should have seen the warning behind his words. Because this betrayal, it came like he had shot you in the back – you didn’t think you’d be able to recover from it.

The past dwindled away as San spoke again, reminding you of the question you had just asked him. “It’s not a question of love, Y/n. I do love you. But it’s a question of survival.”

You laughed, coldly, and then you said, “You know what? You’re full of shit.”

“Alright then. Do me a favour and tell me to go away.”

“Go away.”

A long silence had lingered between you, voided of that summer warmth that had you falling in love. Like a piece was missing from the contract of you loving him, and him loving you. And you realized, maybe you had never really loved each other anyway.

He nodded once when you didn’t say anything else, before turning away. And you watched him walk away. You watched him thinking he was going to turn around and tell you this was just some twisted joke, the prank of the century. Only, he never turned around, and he disappeared behind the bend in the road, never to be seen again, cracking your heart open and splitting it in half.

*****

                The sun sets, like an ending to a dream. You’ve always liked the end – you think if you could choose, you’d want to witness the end of the world. The nostalgia, the beauty of endings… it’s something you understand now that you didn’t understand when you were younger. Because you and San ending, it had led to you focusing on high school. It had allowed you to get in the good college in town, with a scholarship that covered most of your expenses before you made it to med school.

There’s beauty in knowing losing San has allowed you to live out your dreams.

There’s less beauty in knowing that San has been sleeping for almost thirty-four hours now. Last time you checked, he was still breathing, but you’re starting to be afraid that he just won’t wake up. It’s irrational, you know – after the blood loss it makes sense that he’d sleep for a long time.

But it leaves you with far too much time on your hands to think and revisit the past. You’ve been doing it all day – thinking about the fight with your parents that had led to your break-up with San, thinking about that damn rainy evening he had walked away without once looking back. Thinking of the field, of sunshine and star falls and the sweetness of a first kiss. Thinking that, then, you thought you knew what it was like to be in love.

You haven’t dated anyone serious since San. Hyunmin was a distraction for a while, but you never were into it. Not like you were into San. There’s a guy in your class though, that you’ve been chatting with for a couple of weeks. He’s sweet, innocent, and the perspective of a future seems less scary with him around. He’s mentioned he wants to move across the country once too, and since then you’ve started talking more, the similarity of your wishes drawing you closer.

All day today you’ve been feeling like you’re slowly drifting away though. Slowly getting entrapped in a web you’re not sure you’ll be able to walk away from.

You decide to swim, seeking the fresh clarity only cold water can bring to you. You don’t have a swimsuit with you, but since San is half-dead in bed you figure it doesn’t matter. So you strip naked, feet making squelching sounds in the mud by the lake side as you step in the water.

The sharp cold has you holding your breath, but you don’t slow down. You’ve never slowed down in life – when you make a decision, you bring it to completion. And you’ve decided to swim, so swim you will.

The warm summer evening breeze catches in your hair as you take another step forward, the water now lapping at your thighs. You dread the moment it’ll hit your core, knowing that that’s the worst part, but you breathe in deeply, moving forward. Because there’s no moving backwards now.

When the water hits, your eyes flutter shut, and you hold in the wince that threatens to escape the mask of calm your features hold. Soon enough, you get deep enough to swim, and the movements bring welcomed warmth to your limbs as you flop on your back, tits out of the water.

Your uncle’s cabin is the only cabin in a fifteen miles radius. You know you won’t be interrupted, and so you let the water cool you down. Calm you down, hold you in its fresh embrace. It undoes knots in your back that have formed from worrying about San, but also from worrying about college.

From worrying that you will never be enough. You think it’s a normal anxiety to have, something most people must feel as they go through the trials of college, not knowing what to expect on the other side. A nice career, perhaps, though the perspective of failure is there too, looming over the horizon.

You sigh, and your eyes flutter open as your legs move mindlessly under you, making sure to keep you afloat. You look up at the azury ceiling over your head, so far away as it slowly turns gold. Out of touch, out of grasp. You watch the fluffy white clouds that are lazily crossing the sky, turning fiery in the sunset, as if they have all the time in the universe. And you wish you were them, up above. With nothing to worry about.

Without a Choi San on the brink of death lying about twenty meters away from you. You sigh, and you turn in the water, with the purpose of swimming again. Though your gaze catches movement by the cabin, and your head snaps towards it to see none other than the supposedly Choi San, standing on the deck with a hand clutching his side.

You shriek, looking down at yourself. Most of you is hidden, but you don’t know how long he’s been there. Don’t know if he’s seen you naked as you looked up at the sky.

He doesn’t move, only watches you where you’re swimming.

“Can you please look away?” you say from the water, and he has the nerves to lean against the railing, eyes still boring into where you’re swimming. You think his gaze might be so hot the water will boil, and it startles you into action.

You start walking out of the water, pointing towards the door. “You shouldn’t be up, Choi San.”

“I feel fine,” he says as you take another step forward, and the water barely hides your tits anymore.

That makes him turn around, as he offers you a little bit of privacy. You’re quick to get out of the water and wrap yourself in the towel you brought outside, and then you collect your clothes to head back to the cabin. San dutifully keeps his gaze away until you’re climbing the three steps leading to the deck, and it’s then that his eyes trail to you again.

“Thank you for the water,” he says, offering you a tentative smile.

You left water by his bedside earlier today hoping it will coax him to wake up. You’re strangely surprised that it worked.

“You should go sit inside,” you scold him, only half-heartedly. Because seeing him up and about reassures you, somehow.

He cocks an eyebrow, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “The weather is beautiful, I’d rather sit outside.”

You roll your eyes, but you do let him walk down the stairs to sit by the fireplace while you go inside to take a quick shower and get dressed. You decide to make some food for him, though you know he shouldn’t eat too much right now, after not having eaten for a while. He has to start slowly, and you don’t even know if he’s hungry anyway.

You settle for preparing a cup of chicken noodle soup for him, so at least it isn’t too heavy on his stomach. You bring it to him outside, as he’s just calmly observing the lake.

“Thank you,” he says, voice small as he grabs the cup and the spoon.

You sit next to him, trying not to watch him eat too much. His hair is sticking to his forehead in some places, and you have the distinct thought that he’ll probably need to shower. At least there’s plenty of rain water in the bucket for the water pump.

“What have you been doing while I was out?” he asks.

You spare him a quick glance before losing your gaze in the rocks of the fireplace. “I’ve studied. Checked up on you. Not much honestly.”

He chuckles. “I’d argue that caring for someone is a lot.”

You glance at him, cheeks burning at the sight of his teasing smile. “Not really.”

He chuckles again, but doesn’t say anything more before eating another spoonful of soup. He’s almost done with the cup when he actually does speak, asking, “How long was I out?”

“A day and a half,” you answer. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t slept longer.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “I’m made of tough stuff.”

You snicker, but you don’t say anything, just focusing on where you’re kicking at the dirt. When he’s done with the cup, he puts it down on the ground next to him, before sitting back in the chair. He stretches out his legs in front of him, sighing deeply.

“I still feel out of it,” he admits, and you meet his gaze.

“You can sleep more,” you tell him. “I’d just like to check on the…”

You don’t even have to finish your sentence. He immediately turns so his side is to you, and you have to admit you’ve done a perfectly good job with the stitches.

“So?” he asks.

“All good.” You pat his shoulder. “You can sit comfortably again.”

He’s smiling when he does so, and his gaze wanders to the lake once again. “I’m sorry I…” he trails off, and he chuckles softly. “I’m sorry I interrupted your little swim earlier.”

You have the decency to flush furiously red, and you shrug your shoulders. “No worries, I wasn’t expecting you to be up so soon.”

You fall in a comfortable silence, surprisingly so. Rare stars dot the darkening sky up above, and all that can be heard for a moment is the flap of a bird’s wing as it moves from branches to branches in the trees by the water. The breeze picks up as you watch the little bird, and the leaves dance, loudly so. You’d think it’d be deafening in the silence between you and him, but it’s strangely reassuring.

As if, after all, you found your way back to the field. Only this time it’s completely different, as if decades have passed between you. At least, that’s how it feels like.

You notice San has dozed off in the chair next to you when you were about to speak to him again. To ask him how he’s truly been, in the years between then and now. Hoping to avoid mentioning what led to him coming to you, yesterday, a whole eternity ago.

You watch him, heart aching in your chest. Aching to reach out and brush his hair away from his forehead, aching to heal the cut on his cheek with a gentle swipe of your fingers. If only medicine was so simple…

It seems the peace of the early evening wasn’t going to stay around, because you notice dark clouds rolling in the distance, streaks of lightning cutting through them. Slowly inching closer, menacingly so, and you gently wake San up with your hand on his wrist.

He startles awake, hand shooting to his waist, finding nothing there. It startles you, and you both stare at each other for a moment until you realize what he was looking for.

His gun.

“San…” you let out and he runs his hand through his hair, eyes falling shut as he breathes in and out raggedly.

“Sorry.”

“San, I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t open his eyes, refuses to let you see the vulnerability you glimpsed behind his piercing gaze. Refuses to acknowledge that he’s terrified, deadly so.

“Let’s go in,” you tell him, softly. Because you’re afraid you’ll spook him, when he’s clearly been living in fear long enough. “There’s a storm coming.”

He nods, carefully getting up without sparing you a glance. He heads inside, hand clutching his side again, while you pick up the chicken noodle soup cup before following him.

You’ve refilled the generator before swimming, so you know it’s been charging the batteries for a while now. You don’t fear ending up in the dark with San, and there’s also always the option of using the lamps and candles your uncle always leave here in case of an emergency.

The storm doesn’t roll in until a little later. You’ve forced San to put a shirt on – mostly so your eyes would stop betraying you, dropping to his toned body whenever he talked to you. You’re currently sitting on the couch, and as the rain starts, hammering against the window behind you, you pull your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms comfortably around them.

“How hard do the storms hit here?” he asks, eyes trailed to the world outside.

You follow his gaze, right as wind picks up to make the water hit the window even harder, creating a cacophony that forces you to speak louder for him to hear. “Pretty hard.”

He nods, and he glances once at you. “Fun.”

You smile, because you’ve always liked storms. Have always found them electrifying, energizing.

“Do you remember when we used to go to the field when it rained?” San asks, taking you by surprise.

Making your heart clench so hard in your chest you have to take a wobbly breath in. If he notices he doesn’t say.

“We were always in that field,” you remind him. “No matter the weather.”

It’s his turn to smile fondly. “It got so pretty with all the wildflowers. But you were afraid of the bees.”

“Bees are scary!” You laugh, and he echoes it with a soft chuckle. “You’re the one that almost pissed yourself when we saw the rat.”

That makes him laugh, and he winces in pain clutching his side. “Gosh, is it supposed to keep on hurting like this?”

It douses your enthusiasm and your smile falls. “Well, it was a solid cut.”

His eyes get lost in the void as he takes on a wistful expression. “I’m surprised I didn’t die.”

You gulp, watching his profile carefully. “It wasn’t deep enough for that…” you trail off, even though you spent most of yesterday and today being convinced he’d die. “At least they didn’t… stab you.”

“They would have if… Wooyoung didn’t shoot.”

You remain silent, not knowing what to reply to that. San interprets that as discomfort, and he quickly adds, “He didn’t shoot them. Just… in the air. It attracted the police.”

You remember the cars zooming past the diner a lifetime ago, and you nod your head. “I heard.”

He seems surprised, and his gaze finally finds yours again. “You did?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, a little awkwardly. “I hear a lot of shootings, in the diner.”

His eyes widen, mouth falling open cutely. “You do?”

You don’t know what he expected. The diner is right between Ateez and Bangtan territory, and as much as it is a safe space, it is also near enough to dangerous grounds, and you’ve heard plenty of shooting in your time working there.

“Always,” you admit. “It can get scary sometimes… but you also get used to it.”

He looks sad. Infinitely so, like a lost puppy. That’s when the first thunder hits, so sharp and sudden you startle. Not quite as much as San, who ducks, wincing in pain as he clutches his side.

“Shit,” he curses. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, in time with another thunderclap, though this time it’s more of a rumble.

You watch his chest as he breathes in and out quickly. “Just… fuck.”

Now, concern grows in you, and you gently put a hand on his shoulder. “San…”

He meets your gaze, and there’s so much white in his it makes you think of a terrified prey. And then it clicks: he thought it was a gunshot.

“Hey,” you quickly say, moving closer to him. You’re on the side of the stitches, so you still keep a safe distance between the two of you, but you grab his hand nonetheless. “You’re okay.”

“Fuck,” is all he’s able to say.

“I promise, no one’s going to find you here.”

He remains silent this time around, eyes still boring into yours. You take that as a cue to continue, because you don’t want him to panic. You want his thoughts here, with you, and not miles away in a city he should have escaped from years ago. You wish he had, knowing the atrocities that he would have avoided.

Would he have escaped with you, had you stayed just a little longer?

“I killed someone,” he says, and you balk at the silver lining his gaze. “I fucking killed him.”

You don’t know how to help. All you can think to do is cup his cheek, right as he starts breathing even faster. “Breathe with me, San.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes fall to your mouth. You make a good show of inhaling slowly, before exhaling even slower. It takes him a moment but he eventually follows your lead.

It breaks when there’s another sharp thunderclap, and he flinches, eyes shutting instinctively.

“Hey hey hey,” you say again, even more gentle, softer than before. You move even closer, and when a tear slips out of his closed eyes, you pull him into a hug, careful not to brush his side.

His head falls on your shoulder, and one of his arms wrap around your waist. A thunderclap later, he starts sobbing, fist balling the fabric of your shirt in his tight hold, and you let him do it. You let him hold onto you, hoping it’ll keep him here with you. Hoping it’ll keep him afloat during the storm that’s raging both outside and in his mind.

“It’s going to be okay,” you breathe, and you feel like you’re lying to him.

Because how can he ever be safe from the ghosts inside of his skull? The ghosts wandering the halls of him, tainting his soul with their presence?

“He’s never going to smile again,” San chokes out. “Everyone loved him. Even in Ateez… Jungkook was the best of us. The only one who had a shot at getting out of it.”

You don’t know how good he could have been, if he was a member of Bangtan. In your mind, you’d always seen Bangtan as the bad guys, mostly because they weren’t with San. Even when you had been struggling to evade that life, you’d still rooted for him.

It’s strange how you just realize that now, as you’re holding him while he breaks.

“You didn’t mean to kill him,” you remind San, still speaking with the calmest voice you can muster up. “You didn’t want to, San. You’re not a murderer.”

“I’m still a killer,” he says. He sounds angry, and you reckon he might be angry at himself. Might be consumed with his actions, dragged to hell before his time as his mind gets stuck replaying the events.

“Maybe,” you answer. “But,” you quickly add when he stiffens in your arms. “But you can spend the rest of your life making up for it. Repenting.”

He doesn’t respond right away, as he breaks some more, sobs rocking through him. You’ve never seen him like this, not even when you were younger and in love. It makes your gaze wet, yet you hold on strong for him. You keep your head held high, and you allow him to break in the safe haven that your arms represent.

Because to him, you’ve never been tainted. You’ve always been the ideal he was trying to pursue, albeit the wrong way.

“I don’t know how to repent,” he admits when he calms down. He turns his head, and his nose brushes along the skin of your neck, slightly tickling you. You ignore the feeling, especially as he adds, “Ateez… it’s all I’ve ever known.”

You run a hand on his back, soothingly. “It isn’t.”

Because there was you, too. There was the summer field and the twinkling stars and Artic Monkeys on the radio. There was the two of you, petal-soft kisses exchanged in the dead of night and in the brightness of day. There were rainy days, and then there was rain. There was him walking away, and you hate yourself then.

You wish you had stopped him that day, had kept him from going on to become what he’s become now. A person he clearly hates, someone that has a bounty on his head. Someone that doesn’t even believe they’re allowed redemption and you reckon you don’t even know if he is.

You only know that seeing him break is bending your will, the way the wind outside is bending the trees. All you can hope is that, like the tall trees, you won’t break.

*****

                The storm calmed down sometime around midnight. San ended up falling asleep on the couch, as you’d reassuringly ran your hand through his hair, trying to keep him with you. Though you think he’s been slipping through your fingers, into his demons.

You’ll find a way to bring him back. You have to. Turns out it comes faster than you think, as the electricity runs out and you busy yourself with lighting some candles throughout the main room. When you’re done, you put a blanket over him, and you almost let out a startled scream as his eyes shot open.

“Hello,” you say, resting a hand on your heart to tame the wild beats.

You’re about to move away, but he grabs your hand, forcing you to sit next to him. You don’t really resist, though you think you probably should. You’re weak – weaker still when he murmurs your name.

“San,” you whisper in return, and you’re aware your voice carries too much longing. Longing for a past when life’s atrocities hadn’t changed either of you yet.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, and a tear rolls on his cheek.

You dry it, fingers lingering there. “It’s okay.”

“Angel…”

The nickname brings you back to laser quests and favours and warmth creeping up your stomach for the first time in your life.

“I’m no angel,” you breathe.

“You saved me.”

You hold his gaze. There’s something hiding behind his pupils. The need, to forget. You don’t think you have the ability to run his mind through amnesia, but still you brush his cheek again.

“You deserved saving.”

His eyes glaze once more, though this time no tears fall. “It’s hard to believe it.”

“Do you still believe love is a laser quest?” you ask him, out of the blue.

As if you’re a line straight of that Arctic Monkeys song you listened to the first time you kissed.

“Maybe,” he says, a parallel to that first time you had asked the question. “Maybe it is.”

You can’t resist. You lean down, and you press the gentlest kiss on his lips. His are dry, but the way he sighs with you against him is soft, for your heart and for your mind, and you kiss him again. He lets you lead, follows the dance of your lips, lets you run your hand through his sweaty hair.

Even if you shouldn’t. Even if you know everything you’re doing right now is a mistake, you still find yourself deepening the kiss, opening your lips to slip your tongue out, teasing his mouth. One of his hands finds your thigh, and he squeezes ever so slightly as his tongue finds yours, and you let out a breathy sound.

When you pull away, eyes fluttering open, you find San’s gaze. You think about the boy he was then, the girl you were then. You think about who you were, together. And when he says, “Please make me forget”, you lean again, capturing his mouth in a languid kiss.

For a reason unknown, the summer sky and falling stars pale in comparison to this kiss. Maybe because it holds longing, nostalgia. Hope that life would have turned out differently. For a moment, you picture what it would have been like, without Ateez. With you and him in the field, in your family house, in a car driving by the beach, windows down as the sun sets and you sing along to the radio, wind blowing in your hair.

You see a whole life there, with you and him marrying in the field, under the sun that had been the host of your first love. You imagine growing up by his side, attending college with him in the big city. You imagine how he would have become the owner of his own construction company, like his dad before him. You picture kids laughing, running around the house he would have built for you. You see Christmas light, late nights antics by the firelight.

You see it all, and you know you’ll never have any of it. But if you can have tonight, then you’ll grab it before it slips through your fingers. Before he walks away in the rain again, only to be a memory you cherish in the deepest corners of your heart.

“How?” you ask him when you pull away.

Mostly, you’re asking how to make him forget. But you’re also asking how it is that the feelings are still there, even stronger now, as if they’ve grown up with you, yet haven’t changed like you have. Like they are a constant of an ever-changing universe.

“Kiss me again,” he asks, begs, and you give in. You kiss him wildly, always making sure not to touch his side and the stitches.

You know sex would be a stupid idea, especially with the fresh stitches. But also because he’s barely had time to recover. But he doesn’t really give you a choice, pulling you on top of him until you’re straddling him.

You sit back on him for a second, eyes trailing to the spot where you know the stitches are. “This isn’t a good idea,” you whisper through the ragged breaths caused by the ministrations of his mouth on yours and of yours on his.

“I’m fine,” he says, and you know you shouldn’t believe him. But when he pulls you down again, large hand holding the nape of your neck firmly so you don’t escape, you want to believe him.

Want to believe the beauty of his lies, like you had when you were younger.

From where you’re perched, you can feel the start of his erection pressing against you, and you moan softly in the kiss, rolling your hips. His mouth falls open, and you capture his tongue, sucking on it once before you pull away, leaving hot kisses on his jaw.

“Sit on my face,” he says, and he sounds out of his mind. Crazed, a little like you too feel at the moment.

“What?”

“Can’t get hurt if you sit on my face, angel,” he explains, and then hisses when you suck a hickey on his neck.

You let him pull your shirt off, unclasping your bra yourself as you sit back on his lap. He cups your breasts, rolling your erect nipples between his thumbs and indexes. You moan again, grinding your hips into his, and he hisses once more.

“You want to taste me?” you ask, head throwing back as he pinches your nipples hard.

“I’d fuck you, but you’re the doctor. Can’t risk fucking up my stitches, huh?” he replies, voice low and husky.

Your core heats up, pussy clenching around nothing. This is a side of him you’ve never seen, though you spy desperation beneath it. Like he thinks he doesn’t have forever, when it comes to you.

He’s right. Because tomorrow, you’ll have to go back into town, into the hellscape you call home. What will be left of the two of you then?

So when he tugs at your pants, you give in and get up, taking off your pants and panties in one swift motion. You step out of them, blood heating up by the way he’s looking at you through half-lidded eyes, gaze burning on you.

You have half a thought that you could probably ride him instead of his face, but when you see his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips, making them glisten in the candlelight, you need to know what it’ll feel like against you.

So you straddle his face as he guides you down, large hands pushing on your thighs until your pussy is a hairsbreadth away from his lips. He blows on it, and your eyes shut with sensitivity. You clutch the cushion of the couch, hoping it’ll help steady you, but the moment his tongue flicks at your clit, you realize nothing will be able to steady you. Yet you still hold onto it, especially as he dives his tongue between your folds, lapping up your juice. He moans in contentment, before moving to your clit again. And his tongue is wicked down there, like it knows exactly what you like.

You grab a handful of his hair, grinding into his face. You’re pretty sure he’s chuckling down there, and then he unleashes himself. Sucking hard, alternating circling motions to teasing you with his teeth. You’d expect the latter to hurt, but the way he does it just makes you see stars, and your pussy clenches around nothing again.

San is deadly good with his mouth. Both with crafting lies and pulling moans out of you, and your thighs tighten against his face as he sucks particularly hard, before dipping his tongue inside of you. His nose brushes your clit, and then he forces you to properly sit on him.

The way his tongue moves inside of you, lapping up your juices while opening you up, has you on the brink of an orgasm in no time. Especially as he makes you grind again, holding you tight into place. When one of his hands moves from around your thigh to reach your clit, you cry out, head throwing back.

He’s quick to rub at your sensitive clit, and you grab one of your breasts, massaging it mindlessly before you pinch your nipple, hard, right in time with a skilled swipe of his tongue. Your orgasm meets you there, shaking through you as it explodes in a blinding flash of light. You moan, loudly, something that resembles his name, and he keeps you going, guides you through your high until you cringe with oversensitivity.

Only then does he let you climb off from his face. You stand on wobbly legs, before deciding to sit next to him, and you catch sight of the smirk on his lips. It makes you blush, right as you realize what you’ve just done.

When you realize what kind of sinful activity he’s dragged you in, this time around.

“Gosh,” is all you manage to say.

He chuckles, clearly proud with himself. “That felt good?”

You worry at your bottom lip, eyes going down to the tent in his pants. You want to pleasure him too, to take him in your mouth and make him feel good, but he stops you with a hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Don’t.”

You still and you meet his gaze with slightly-widened eyes. “Why not?”

His features turn somber, haunted, and the heat of the moment passes so quickly you think it might have been a figment of your imagination.

Were you really riding his face just a moment ago?

“Please just lay next to me,” he says, barely even a whisper.

You don’t know a lot of men that would choose cuddling over getting a blowjob, but if that is what he wants, then you’ll give it to him. You lay next to him, glad that the injured side is closer to the couch. That way, you can cuddle up to him, resting your head on his shoulder while he wraps an arm around you.

“Angel,” he murmurs after a time. “You’re a fucking angel. I think you’re my salvation.”

You highly doubt you hold this kind of power, but you don’t want to tell him. Have never been good at weaving beautiful lies for him to believe.

“We should stay here,” he continues. “Forever.”

And you wish you could. Wish reality didn’t exist, didn’t call for you to go back to your regular life like you’ve never been here with him. But you know tomorrow exists, and you’ll have to leave.

“We should have stayed in the field,” you choose to answer. “Under the shooting stars.”

“I wished for a lifetime with you, then,” he admits. “I wished I’d never have to let you go.”

You’d wished for a similar thing, but life is far too cruel to allow a world of first loves.

“Why did you…” you trail off. The question has haunted your sleepless nights for a long time after the break-up. Even years later, you’d still think about it sometimes, wondering if nostalgia would choke you up. “Why did you decide to join the gang?”

He tenses next to you. But you start tracing a mindless circle on his chest, through the shirt, and it distracts him enough for him to reply. “I thought I didn’t have a choice.”

“Did you?”

His voice holds the weight of the world when he says, “I did. And I made the wrong one.”

You want to cry, but you’re older now. You’re not the teenager who thought she was going to die from losing him anymore. You know what living without Choi San is like, and as much as it hurts, you know that it’s doable.

“You made the one you believed was right,” you say carefully. “But I do wish you had made a different one.”

He holds you a little tighter, as if that will make it so tomorrow never comes. “Me too.”

There’s an eternity of flickering candlelight on the ceiling, of the circles you trace on his chest and of your breathings forming a melody. Outside, the wind has died down, and the world is silent except from an occasional cricket braving the world after the storm.

“Where will you go, once you graduate?” he asks, taking you by surprise.

Because he knows. It’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed.

“As far away from here as I can.”

“I hope you find peace, wherever you go,” he whispers. “I hope you forget all about how we grew up in a hellhole.”

Do you feel bad for saying it? Maybe. But you can’t help saying it anyway. “I will, San.”

And like that rainy day years ago, you think you can see him walk away.

*****

Seven years later

The winter sun is strangely bright, up above. You’d think it will warm you up, but the cold is relentless, violent, and it sneaks into your coat as you walk out of the hospital. You’ve just finished a thirty-hour shift, and you can’t wait to be home.

To take a shower and forget that you’ve lost a patient today.

But you’ve saved another. A young man, with a stab wound in his ribs that should have killed him. But you saved him, stabilized his condition to the point you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Which is the only reason why you’re allowing yourself to leave now.

You’re never able to leave until you know your patients are okay. It’s been that way since your first patient, in a cabin in the woods you’ve done your best to forget.

You’d let San stay, after that weekend. He had given you the number of one of his friends, so you could get some clothes for him, and you’d gone back the next weekend. Bringing him the clothes, making love to him under the moonlight as if that would change the ending.

The following week, you had gone back to find the cabin empty. He’d left a note behind.

I hope I can find you again, wherever you go.

You kept the note. It’s in your bedside table, back at home, in the nice apartment you’ve been able to rent for yourself with all the money you’ve been making now. Enough to pay back student loans from med school, enough to reassure you that never again will you struggle.

You’ve never seen San again after. He hasn’t found you, and you haven’t searched for him. Have only looked up his name a couple of times, in the months following his disappearing, scared you’d find out that he was found dead in a ditch. But his name never came up, and you wondered if he had managed to escape, if he had managed to find a place where Bangtan couldn’t reach him.

You found peace, on your side of the country. Life is kinder here, though it still holds the same atrocities. You wonder if it’s the novelty of the city, or maybe if you’ve just grown old enough to be able to withstand the bad that the world throws your way. It’s hard to tell – you haven’t kept contact with anyone from back home, except Jae-on.

Jae-on, who’s moved with you when you’ve decided to come here, like he said he would. Jae-on, who asked you to marry him in late October, and you said yes. The ring sits heavy on your finger, and you mindlessly play with it.

In another world, you would already be married to Choi San. Sometimes, you catch glimpses of that world – a piercing gaze in the morning, a smile and a kiss to your temple. Talks about angels, children screaming in happiness. In another world, you’d be pregnant again, waiting patiently to add another piece of you and him to this world.

It’s fun to think about, sometimes, but you’ve been good at forgetting. Like you told him you would – most times, you’ve forgotten all about Choi San.

But today, you had a patient that reminded you of him. So you allow yourself to feel, you allow yourself to think about that note tucked in the bottom drawer of your bedside table, hidden under the thick socks you never use.

You allow yourself to think about the cabin in the woods, about the field where you would have gotten married had you been in that picturesque world you like to imagine. You think about laser quests and first kiss and rainy days and meteors. You think about summer, about wildflowers and him.

You’re so lost in thought you miss your stop home, and you begrudgingly get out at the next one. You’re tired, and your hands are shaking as you pull your phone out of your tote bag, wanting to text Jae-on that you’re going to be home late because you missed your stop. You walk to the other side of the tracks, sighing when you see a five-minutes wait for the next subway.

At least the sun is high in the sky, even though it is dreadfully cold. You shiver, putting your phone back in your tote bag so you can hide your hands in your sleeves again, hoping it’ll preserve them from the cold.

In your exhaustion, you forgot your gloves back at the hospital, you realize. It’s strange that you only realize now, and you reckon you really need to sleep, because your brain isn’t even working right anymore.

You sigh, glancing at the display showing the time. Still four minutes to wait. You think at this rhythm you might freeze in your spot before the next subway comes. You try to hide your face in the lapel of your coat, but a movement on the other platform attracts your gaze.

A man is helping an older woman climb down the stairs. She’s speaking loudly, which might be what attracted your gaze in the first place. You follow them as they walk down the stairs, and then when the man turns towards you, you meet his piercing gaze.

He smiles, and you realize that maybe, all those years ago, he was not spinning lies to you after all.

☆☆☆☆☆

Gosh yeahhh rereading it had me ralize that it is a lot sadder than I remembered it to be. At least we got an open ending ... :') What did we think? Should I write about other groups more often? Let me know what you think! All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate

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@btsborahaee

[steddiealltheway]

Has this been done yet? (Oh, this is so much longer than intended)

Everyone knows Eddie is in love with Steve. It's not like he really tries to hide it. He's always flirting with him, taking up all his personal space, and finding excuses to constantly hang out with him.

The only person who refuses to believe this is Steve. He insists that Eddie is just dramatic, so all his feelings are larger than life, and flirting is just second nature to him. Really, it means nothing. Although Steve wants it to mean something.

He's come to terms with being bisexual after a quick discussion with Robin about what his feelings for Eddie meant. And really, after discovering a universe that is the parallel Hell to his own, being bi is the least of his concerns.

On the other hand, Eddie Munson is one of his greatest concerns. Every time Eddie flirts with him, his brain goes perfectly blank. And it doesn't help that Steve gets so distracted by the man's damn lips. But Steve can tell it's all just a part of who Eddie is. He draws people in until they're utterly enamored with him, and his means of flirting is his way of drawing Steve in.

Honestly, hearing everyone trying to convince him that Eddie has feelings for him just makes Steve uncomfortable because none of them have confirmation from Eddie about it. And it just fills the room with a weird tension whenever Eddie and Steve are with anyone else. Eddie has brought it up a few times with a quick whispered, "Why is everyone staring at us?" And Steve just brushes it off until Eddie moves onto some random topic that has Steve dropping everything he's doing to listen.

But one day when Eddie's at Family Video, he's grabbing a tape and suggesting him and Steve should watch it at nine that night. Steve instantly agrees which has Eddie fanning himself and flirting, "Watching a movie with the Steve Harrington. How will I ever be able to recover?"

Steve leans in and finally flirts back, "It's a date." Which has Eddie freezing in a place a moment before he clears his throat and slow-mo punches the counter.

"It's a date," Eddie confirms without his usual bravado that has Steve finally noticing it. The dilated pupils, the way his eyes flicker to his lips, the way he licks his lips when he leans in, and just the general soft look he gets when he looks at him.

Eddie likes him. And Steve is about to pull out all the moves at his trailer tonight.

Eddie leaves a bit after that, not sticking around like he usually does, but he tells Robin he has a date to prepare for when she comes out of the breakroom. As soon as he's out the door, Steve is spilling everything to Robin who agrees to help him before his date.

A few hours later, and a lot of arguments over outfits later, Steve is showing up on Eddie's doorstep with flowers in his hands. Eddie opens the door and accepts them with a laugh. "What a kind date you are," Eddie says and welcomes Steve inside.

Steve looks around and takes note of how the trailer doesn't really look any different, and Eddie hasn't changed since he left, so Steve's unsure of what he was preparing for unless... He shakes his head. Too soon.

Eddie flops down on the couch and offers Steve a beer which he gladly accepts to calm his nerves a bit. He sits right in Eddie's space and puts his arm around the back of the couch. Eddie looks at him and jokes, "And I thought you hated when I got in your personal space." Nonetheless, he leans into Steve as the movie starts.

And Steve has no idea what's happening on the screen. He goes through his beer fast and sets it on the table in front of them. He turns to Eddie and asks, "Where's your uncle?"

Eddie glances up at him and replies, "At work."

Steve gets distracted by how close his lips are to Eddie's but decides this is the perfect time to finally make a move. "Good," he says as he leans down.

Only, Eddie is shooting back and asking, "What are you doing?"

Steve freezes. Eddie doesn't look pleasantly surprised at all, instead he looks scared and confused. Fuck. "Uh, forget about it. Sorry," Steve says as he scoots away from him and slowly stands up.

"It's okay," Eddie says still looking a bit panicked. A few awkward moments pass by before he's talking again, "I...I should apologize for leading you on... with the flirting in stuff... I didn't know you were..." he trails off.

"Bisexual," Steve fills in for him. Eddie gives him a confused look. "It means I like men and women."

"Oh," Eddie says, eyes still wide but looking a bit lost in thought.

Steve just echoes, "Yeah, oh." He fidgets the edge of the stupid blue shirt Robin had said would make Eddie lose his mind. He feels a pressure behind his eyes that's wildly embarrassing. "I'm gonna go," Steve says and rushes out the trailer and into the pouring rain. He has no idea when it started raining, but it doesn't matter because Eddie doesn't even try to stop him.

Steve parks his car outside of Robin's and goes to the side of the one-story house and knocks on her window. Robin is unlatching it immediately and asking, "What the hell are you doing? It's raining out."

"You were wrong about Eddie. He doesn't like me. Why would you convince me he did?" Steve says loudly over the rain.

Robin's eyebrows furrow. "There's no way he doesn't. What makes you think that? And get inside, you're already soaked!"

"He apologized for leading me on, Robin!" Steve says, not caring about the rain or how loud he's getting. "He didn't even stop me when I left! So, don't try this whole setting people up with me thing again. I'm done with that." He stalks off as Robin calls out to him.

He knows he's being dramatic, but he doesn't care. He really liked Eddie, and he hadn't been prepared to be rejected by him. Worst of all, this is going to ruin their entire friendship. Who are they without the flirtatious banter and constant teasing? They weren't dating but Steve has never felt so heartbroken before.

When he gets home, he doesn't really think, just goes to his pool and dives in. He's already soaked, so it's not like it matters too much. He floats on the surface and closes his eyes, feeling the raindrops falling on his face which are noticeably colder than his tears, but at least he can pretend it hides them.

The sound of thunder in the distance is what drags him out of the pool. He's not going to let lightning be the thing that kills him after everything. Although his heartache feels a bit intent on killing him. But that just makes him angry at himself.

He isn't allowed to be this hurt over things. He really isn't. He should've known better. That's all. His thoughts wear him out until he's falling into a fitful sleep.

Work the next day sucks. Robin's acting all anxious around him, and Nancy comes in acting all sympathetic until Steve finally snaps, "If you're not here to get a movie, then you have no reason to be here."

After that, Robin lectures him about taking his anger out on other people. At least she isn't giving him that damn sad look anymore.

For the first time in weeks, Eddie doesn't show up during his shift, and Steve realizes he needs to get used to that.

A week later, the kids are giving him the same treatment Nancy did after they finally get Steve to spill the reason why Eddie doesn't come to the Family Video anymore. Steve slips away into the back after Robin tells him it's his break time - which is absolute bullshit, but Robin doesn't let the kids know that.

Steve has his head in his hands when he hears the door to the breakroom open. He doesn't look up, expecting Robin to tell him that the kids have left or something. Instead, he hears, "Just give him a while. If you're lucky, it won't take him years to figure things out."

Steve's head slowly comes up to reply, "Not all of us can be lucky like you and Mike."

Will shrugs. "If not, you know Eddie will still be friends with you. I give it a week before things are back to normal." Steve smiles at the kid. He's optimistic and determined in a way that makes Steve feel a glimmer of hope.

Two days later, Steve is wiping off the counter towards the end of his shift when he hears the bell to the front door ring. He glances up to find Eddie walking in looking slightly cautious as he looks around the empty store.

"Hey," Steve says as he approaches the counter.

Eddie smiles slightly and says, "Hey." Then, he's handing over a tape to return, and Steve tries not to flinch when he recognizes it as the one they were supposed to watch that night.

"A bit late," Steve jokes but automatically clears the fees before he sets it in the returns pile for the next day.

Eddie puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs. "I forgot." His eyes lock with Steve's for a moment before they begin to look at anywhere but him. "Where's Robin?"

"I let her go early," Steve explains. Another awkward silence settles between them.

"Well," Eddie says and removes a hand from his pocket to drum his fingers on the counter. "I'm gonna head out."

"Wait," Steve calls out as he turns around. Eddie freezes. "I'm about to lock up. Could you just wait around a few minutes?" Steve asks, trying not to cringe at the desperation in his tone.

Eddie turns around and gives him a small smile. "Of course."

Steve nods and rushes to clean up. It won't kill anyone to close the store a few minutes early. He grabs his stuff from the back and is slightly surprised when he finds Eddie still waiting for him when he returns. But he glances up and gives him a smile that makes Steve believe that maybe Will was right. Maybe things will return back to normal in a week.

And they do. Eddie starts showing up during Steve's shifts again, talking about something random which Steve listens to full heartedly although sometimes he doesn't get half of what he's saying. Then, Eddie is returning a tape that has been late for so long that Steve actually gasps when he sees the late fee. But Steve automatically clears it which has Eddie flirting, "Is this because you think I'm cute?"

It has both of them freezing for a second, but then Steve is firing back, "I'm just making sure you know that you owe me in the future." Eddie pouts ridiculously dramatically which has Steve laughing and saying, "And maybe because you're cute."

The compliment has Eddie's cheeks turning slightly red before they move on to a random topic. Steve is happy to find their dynamic shifts a little after this which allows Steve to flirt back easily. It confuses everyone else, but Steve is perfectly content with it, especially when he finds Eddie's smiles growing with every compliment he gets.

One afternoon, Eddie is looking through tapes and gives him the oddest deja vu when he holds one up and says, "We should watch this together."

It's said all casual, but Steve hasn't hung out with Eddie alone since... yeah. And he's kind of freaking out. "After my shift?" Steve asks.

"It's a date," Eddie says with a bright smile that has Steve excusing himself to go to the bathroom.

He splashes his face with cold water and takes a few deep breaths. It isn't actually a date this time - he knows that. But the memory of the last time might be a little too much for Steve to handle. He dries off his face with a thin paper towel, and exits the bathroom only to find Eddie anxiously fiddling with his rings at the counter.

"You okay?" Steve asks, and Eddie turns and nods with an unconvincing smile. Steve lets it go as Eddie talks about his most recent DnD session with the kids and how Will is a genius. Steve definitely agrees with him on that topic.

A few hours later, Steve finds himself in the Munson trailer on the same couch, drinking the same beer, but this time keeping a respectable distance from Eddie. Minutes later, Eddie is heading to the fridge to grab two more beers, and when he comes back, he sits right next to Steve.

Steve glances towards him in slight confusion, but Eddie remains staring at his TV as he practically chugs down his second beer. Before Steve can reach out for the other one, Eddie is opening it and starting on a third one.

Steve's hand comes up to settle on Eddie's hand on the bottle. Eddie slowly puts the bottle down and blurts out, "My uncle is working again."

Steve just slowly nods, not sure where he's going with this. Eddie looks at Steve and his eyes quickly flicker to his lips where they linger. Steve can't help but ask, "You okay?"

Eddie's eyes snap back up to Steve's eyes, and then he's taking his beer and taking a large gulp of it that has Steve on edge. He's definitely preparing for something, but Steve has no clue what it is.

Eddie turns to him and asks, "Remember when you told me you were..."

Steve racks his brain. Into you? Gutted when you didn't like me back? "Bisexual?" he asks.

Eddie nods quickly. "I... hadn't heard of that before, and it had me wondering if... I was bisexual."

"Oh," Steve says as his heart rate increases.

"Yeah, and then I thought about Chrissy and how I thought I might like her, but I think I just liked her the way Robin likes you. Completely platonically." Steve nods as Eddie builds up the courage for what he's going to say next. "And I kind of realized that maybe I didn't like girls at all. But then that freaked me out, and I realized that maybe I need to think less in labels and more about how I feel."

Steve tries not to smile as Eddie's face scrunches up as he mumbles out, "That's so fucking cheesy. Christ." In a normal volume, Eddie continues, "And I think that I have... feelings for you. Especially after you tried to kiss me. I just couldn't stop thinking about how I wanted you to, but I didn't know what that meant either. But then when you were flirting with me, I just... wanted that forever. And then fucking Mike had to talk to me about how it made me feel to imagine you with anyone else - which turns out to be really fucking not good."

Steve laughs, and Eddie finally looks at him with a big smile and says, "Don't laugh at me while I'm trying to admit I have feelings for you! That's rude!"

Steve laughs even harder and explains, "I'm laughing because you got the Mike lecture while I got the Will pep talk."

"Huh?"

"Will told me you would come to your senses eventually, and if not, you'd still be there - as a friend."

Eddie looks off for a second and shakes his head. "We can never tell them those worked. Dustin will be so pissed."

"You're right," Steve says with a laugh, but then he finally realizes what Eddie is saying. "So, you might like me?" Steve asks feeling every bit like a high school boy.

"Yeah," Eddie admits and turns to look towards his beer longingly.

Steve cups his jaw and turns his head to face him. "Want to find out?" Steve asks.

Eddie's eyes flicker to his lips again and his hand comes up to mimic Steve's as he rests his hand on his cheek. "Yes," Eddie breathes out.

Steve slowly leans into his space and lets Eddie meet him halfway for a slow kiss. Eddie pulls back after a moment and smiles wide, "Yeah, I'm definitely not straight. And I really like you."

Steve smiles and brings Eddie in again. "I really like you, too," Steve says before he kisses him again.

Posted on AO3 for @starkdusk

[itsscromp]

Had fnaf idea in my head ever since seeing the movie. Was trying to find people who were doing fnaf movies ideas and remembered I'd seen your ask box! Love your works btw

So I had this idea of night guard! Reader whose terrified of the animatronics and try not to get too close to them. But needs the money. And one night someone tries to break into the pizzeria and the animatronics protect them from being hurt/mugged

If your asks aren't open then feel free to ignore this, ♥️

FNAF animatronics x reader

Oohhhh yes yes yes, I love this idea very much anon. I swear this movie has reawakened my childhood. Word count:943

You were incredibly strapped for cash, The last job barely kept you afloat, you weren't able to pay your rent or afford your groceries. you were running out of options really fast. Heading to your career's councillor Steve Raglan. He said that there may be a job for you.

A security guard at the old pizzeria, but the place was abandoned. why would you be offered a job like that ??. He stated that the owner was just not ready to let it go yet. Not to mention, they had those creepy ass animatronics... There was just something about them that sent shudders up your spine. Maybe it was how life-sized they looked or the way they moved... its just... *shudders*

But right now you didn't have any choice, so you took the job. Your first shift was the next night, 12 a.m. on the dot. You entered the pizzeria and looked around, it was very retro. Save for the dust everywhere. You then noticed the stages on the far end. Was it where... they were housed.

"Keep walking keep walking...." You said to yourself, But for one reason or another, your feet kept walking to the stage. Your hand reached the curtain as you pulled it back, turning on your flashlight and got scared when the first face you saw was bonnie the bunny.

"Nope, not having it"

You rushed to the office immediately, not wanting to look at them one bit.

Once in your office you switched on the power, the pizzeria now buzzing with life as if it was never changed one bit. Switching on the camera's the first thing you saw was the animatronics again, this time two more you didn't see. Chica the chicken and Freddy Fazbear.

You also noticed another stage nearby, but the curtains were closed with the sign 'Out of order' on the front. Whatever that was behind their, you didn't want to find out.

Over a couple of nights, when you entered for work. You rushed straight to your office, not wanting to even look at them. God why did you have to be scared of animatronics ??.

Spying the camera's again, you just saw the same stuff as last time, but what the camera's didn't pick up was the back.

"Come on hurry up !!" A person in a hood said.

"I'm trying man !!" Another said as they tried to pick at the lock of the roller door before managing to unlock it.

"Alright, you know what to do"

The two entered the pizzeria with the malicious intent of robbing the place. the cameras picked them up near the supply closet. You quickly got up and investigated.

"Who's there ?? Come on out right now" You shouted.

"Shit, run !!!" They immediately bolted, you began to rush for them.

"HEY !!!!"

You ran after them leading back to the main area of the pizzeria, where you were met with a chair to the face, knocking you over to the floor as you were instantly jumped on, one with their foot on your arm holding it as well.

"Piss off and leave us be, or you'll get what's coming, kid !!!" He warned as the other began to search you for your wallet, phone and car keys.

"Get off !!!' You tried to squirm out but this only increased the pressure on your arm, threatening to break. "Gaah !!"

"Got their keys, come on !!" the thief said as he got up and turned to the entrance, only to be met by a large figure... It's eyes glowing red. It was Freddy Fazbear.

"What the he..." Before he could even say a full sentence, Freddy quickly turned the tables. Grabbing his arm and breaking it, Making him fall over. screaming in pain.

"Th/n !!" His accomplice shouted as he tried to help him only to be met with a sharp pain in his ankle. What looked like a cupcake which was a part of Chica's set was biting him, Even it and Chica's eyes were glowing red. You scrambled to the corner watching the madness ensue in such confusion. How were the animatronics moving on their damn own !!!, Someone had to be controlling them. But how could they if you were the only damn one here !!

Two more animatronics emerged, Bonnie and one that came from the Out of order stage, It looked like it spent a lot of time inside there from how damaged its body was. The fox animatronic then slashed one thief across the back with its hook, drawing blood. Letting out a blood curling scream as they immediately retreated.

You were scared. Fully and petrifying scared, Seeing what they were capable of, You hid your face from them. Completely frozen in fear. But what you didn't expect was Freddy's hand gently as a feather placed on your shoulder, almost in a way comforting you.

You started to hesitantly look up at them all, Their eyes all no longer red. Back to their natural colours. They all gave you a comforting look.

"Your... You're not going to hurt me ??" You asked them all cautiously.

Bonnie closed his eyes and shook his shoulders as if he was giggling, In a way saying "No we won't hurt you".

Freddy helped you up and gently brought you in for a hug. You couldn't help but smile at them, Wrapping your arms around his body.

"Thank you guys"

The others gave you a cute look Like they just met a new best friend for their little group. And that is what it exactly was. Maybe they weren't so bad after all...

Part 2 ??

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board @gooptoshi

[vrisrezis]

Soooo you said something about a Pavitr angst fic? 👀👀👀

What about one where the reader is a spider woman from another dimension and actually stays to comfort Pav after his last scene in the movie? They all left him and I felt so bad like please he needed a hug his world could literally fall apart

GOD ANON LETS KISS I LVOE THIS SHIT

Pavitr was so scared, so unsure. You haven’t seen him like this, ever. Even back when you saw him first discover his powers, when he first became spiderman, he wasn’t like this. And you couldn’t blame him.

He’s never dealt with anything like this, while in many dimensions, spider people have to save their entire city from imminent peril, you know pav hasn’t had to deal with that quite yet. And not only that, he hasn’t learnt the big consequences with becoming spiderman. He hasn’t learned the sacrifice.

You tried to reassure him the other spiders would handle the gaping hole in the middle of his city, that he didn’t need to worry about it at the moment, his city was safe, his best friend and her father were safe too. A comforting hand on his shoulder as you rubbed that spot in circles, while he put his masked face in the palm of his hands. You sat there for what felt like hours, and as you noticed the sky getting dark, you realized it was.

At this point, his face was in your chest, arms wrapped around eachother as you comfortingly rub circles in his back, now, rather than his shoulder.

He speaks for the first time in hours, “did you…. lose somebody… somebody important?”

There’s not really anything you can say. It’s painful to think about.

“My best friend.” you admit quietly, “I was able to save his mom but… he wasn’t so lucky.” you say, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how that mirrors gayatri and inspector singh. He can’t help but let a few more tears slip out, despite how uncomfortable it is under the mask. You run your masked fingers through his hair, knowing that always makes him feel relaxed.

“I know this is hard, but you will get through this. Okay?” you say, kissing the crown of his head.

“I don’t know what to do.” he says, and you reply with a soft “I know.”

“I need to tell my aunt, everything.” he says, and you nod.

“Don’t worry about all that right now.” you say, “just try to relax, if only for a little bit. Collect your thoughts, yknow?”

he nods, and it’s quiet again.

You guys have been dating for barely 4 months. To normal people, that is not nearly enough time to consider being in love with their partner. But you and Pavitr aren’t exactly normal people.

He takes off his mask, and you see his tear stained cheeks, and the tears that continue to flow. He slowly takes off your mask, too. You two are impossibly close, you don’t think you’ve ever been so close to pav even in all the cuddle sessions you guys have had.

You feel his breath fan your face, “I love you.” he admits with a whisper, shakily. You put your hand on his chin, lifting his head up and you kiss him.

“I love you too.” you say as you two part.