#(I feel like I should tag this as a vent post but it's under the cut)

[wonustars]

In Front of Me (1)

cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1) (part 2: here)

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (content warnings under the cut)

⊹ note: this story was meant to be posted for wonwoos bday, but if you know anything about me by now, i never really stick to my self made deadlines lol. thank you to my cutieful, big brained beta readers: ♡ @junkissed @chocosvt and @sunniques ♡ everyone in @svthub and @highvern and @gyuswhore who helped me w this fic as well ! if u look closely this is pretty much just a sugar coated version of real life events lol... anyways i hope u enjoy and lmk what u think thru the replies and reblogs :) !

⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.

⊹ smut tags: no smut in this part :p ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p

⊹ what i would like to note about this story before you read it: you're not meant to like these characters (for most of the story at least lol), they are flawed in many ways, thats the whole point of this story tbh. tmi--but this story is pretty much my free therapy lol. and i love a messy plot! wonwoo and reader are just two normal people in this story and i wanted to write something a little more raw than i'm used to. so just take what i say with a grain of salt before reading ♡ i still want you to enjoy this story because i poured my soul into it. so thank you for your support and kind asks and comments about the teaser!

prologue. 

Despite your age, you’ve never been in a serious relationship. There was always something holding you back, or rather, someone. 

In all the years you’ve known Wonwoo, you’ve always thought maybe one day, he would look at you in a different light. Hoping that he could reciprocate the feelings you’ve harboured for him since the eleventh grade. 

He was the one who constantly moved out of relationships. You couldn’t even count the amount of late-night calls where he asked you what his “next step” should be. The doting best friend that you are, you’d gladly stay up all night trying to help him fix his girl problems. 

“I just, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Is that wrong?” he asked you over the phone. 

Tossing and turning in your bed you let out a deep sigh. One thing is always guaranteed with Wonwoo: in a relationship, he loses feelings quickly. No matter how much he likes the girl, no matter how obsessed or possessive he feels for them at the beginning of it all, it diminishes by the time the six-month mark hits. 

Although he may be a great friend to you, relationships were never his strong suit. 

“It’s not wrong to fall out of love, but how many times are you going to break up with someone before you decide to stay?” you ask him, and he pauses to think. 

“I don’t know, but I can’t stay, that would make things worse,” he sighs. “It’s better to just stop this whole thing now.” 

“I agree, but are you sure?” you continue to ask him the same questions you’ve been asking since you were sixteen. 

“I’m sure,” he replies with a heavy sigh. 

“Okay, then goodnight. It’s almost one in the morning,” you try to cut the call, but he continues to speak. 

“I’m not the bad guy, right?” he asks you for reassurance. 

“No, you’re just human Wonwoo. There’s nothing wrong with losing feelings for someone,” you affirmed. 

“Alright, thank you, good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers listlessly. 

“Good night, Wonwoo.” 

Your phone beeps indicating that he’s hung up and you can feel the heartstrings pull inside your chest. How many times will it take for Wonwoo to find someone he actually wants to be with? And why is it never you? 

act one, favorite crime.

chapter one. 

“Wait, what? You and Wonwoo aren’t dating?” Seungcheol asks you, forcing you into the hot seat. 

The rest of your friend group is boring holes into your face as they all sit around Jeonghan’s living room. The blood rises in your cheeks, but you shake your head anyway. 

It feels like every time you’re with your friends, they ask you the same set of questions. Constantly wondering why you and Wonwoo haven’t thought about dating, or why you two haven’t decided to take the chance and just be together. 

“You guys need to stop asking that. A guy can befriend someone of the opposite gender,” Wonwoo defends the two of you. 

“You’re telling me in all the years you’ve known her, you haven’t developed feelings for her once?” Cheol continues to instigate, and your eyes go wide. 

Looking over at Wonwoo, you anxiously wait for his answer, your chest blooming with hope, only for those buds to be washed away in a millisecond. 

“No, c’mon, we’re just friends. That’s it, right?” Wonwoo turns to you, trying to get you to back him up. 

Your mouth runs dry as he stares at you, his eyebrows rising in anticipation. 

“U-uh yeah, Wonwoo’s right, we’re just friends,” you blurt out, not being able to handle all the expectant eyes on you all at once. 

“See? Now can you all just get off our backs?” he chastises. 

The chatter starts up again, moving past the topic of you and Wonwoo’s friendship. But you sit there, with your heart crushed in your hands, lifeless and shrivelled. Like his words and actions had the power to tear the life out of you. The worst part was that he did all this without knowing. He’s completely oblivious to your feelings, and you only have yourself to blame.

You understand your relationship with Wonwoo is different from most people’s, but at the same time, it should be normal for a girl and a guy to just be friends. And at least you respect Wonwoo’s feelings, and you also respect that whenever he’s dating someone the dynamic between you two shifts. 

He becomes more detached when he’s in a relationship, and you’re okay with that. His priorities change and you’re okay with that. Despite your feelings for him, you know that you can’t force him to feel the same way. And you should be okay with that. 

You’ve never tried to get in the way of his love life, or purposefully give him bad advice to ruin what he has with someone else. Not since you were seventeen, and at that time in your life your frontal lobe was a measly speck of dust, but it's different now. Now, your morals don’t change just because you love him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less to see the person you’re in love with, fall in love with someone else. 

two. 

“Hey, you okay?” Seokmin approaches you, and you turn your head, acknowledging his presence. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m alright,” you mutter, but you know you don’t look that way. 

Seokmin has known you since high school and has seen you through everything, probably more than Wonwoo. He knows when you’re not feeling well. A sympathetic permanent on his lips as he continues to observe you play with the food on your plate, pushing around the food aimlessly but never taking a bite. 

The sounds of people conversing throughout the dining hall never die down. But luckily, the commotion keeps your thoughts of Wonwoo at bay, or at least that’s what you like to think. But your heart can’t seem to let go of that moment from the other day. Having Seungcheol confirm that Wonwoo has never felt anything romantically for you was like a stab in the stomach, and him getting you to back up his words was just him twisting the knife. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? You can tell me,” he sighs, pushing the hair covering your face and placing it behind your ear. 

You can feel the tears start to pool, but you try your damndest not to let them spill—not like this, not in front of so many people. 

“It was just something Wonwoo said when we were all at Hannie’s house,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact with your friend. 

“What did he say?” 

“That he’s never liked me before,” you sigh, feeling a tear slip from your eye. 

Cursing yourself in your head, you hate how much your feelings for him affect you. You hate how he doesn’t have to even be in front of you, yet he can still cause your emotions to fluctuate. 

“It’s alright,” he coos, pulling you into his strong arms. 

It felt weird, to hug Seokmin so tightly in the middle of your university’s dining hall. But you’re thankful for how aware he is, how he actually cares about your feelings. You felt melodramatic sitting there crying in the fucking dining hall of all places, but you couldn’t help but let your tears flow as Seokmin comforts you with his soft voice. 

“You deserve more than this, I hope you know that,” he whispers in your ear.

three. 

Over the next few days, the words Seokmin had whispered to you kept replaying in your head. You did deserve better and looking at all of Wonwoo’s past relationships is the perfect example. He’s not exactly the ideal boyfriend, so why did you even have feelings for him in the first place?

You could feel a migraine coming on from how hard you were thinking, but Wonwoo still seems to be the only person you can’t let go of. No matter how many times you’ve tried. 

A knock on your door brings you out of your thoughts. It was late, and you don’t remember anyone messaging you saying that they were going to come over, but you open the door anyway. 

“Hey, sorry I didn’t text,” Wonwoo moves past you, takes his shoes off, and plops on your couch. 

“It’s okay, what’s up?” you move to sit beside him. 

“I broke up with her,” He says, shrugging. 

Taken aback by his nonchalance, your eyes widen. He seems calm for someone who has just broken up with his girlfriend. But you try not to think too hard about it, or you might just have to take another Advil to remedy your already growing headache. 

“Well, how did it go?” you ask with a bit of apprehension. 

Knowing Wonwoo, you knew that he probably just dumped her over the phone or something. He’s never been bothered to really break up with someone. 

You have all these examples of why he would probably be the worst boyfriend ever, yet your heart still belongs to him. It’s pitiful, to say the least, people probably would think that you’re a masochist because you subject yourself to staying by his side when he has feelings for another. 

“She was crying, but at least it’s over now,” Wonwoo informs you as he eats the snacks you had left on your coffee table. 

“Oh.” You could feel the guilt start to seep into your veins. 

It never felt good to hear Wonwoo talk about his breakups, but you’re not sure how to react. There’s a part of you that’s happy to know that he’s single again, but the majority of you pities the girl who had just gotten her heart broken. 

Wonwoo continues to munch on the snacks left on your table while your mind tries to process the information you’ve been given. Hearing him talk so casually about his breakup leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but you decide to switch topics instead of asking any more questions. 

“Are you still going to Seokmin’s thing this weekend, though?” you ask him, trying to fill the air with something to drown out your rapid heartbeats. 

He shrugs his shoulders, “If I feel like it. Are you?” 

The bottom of your stomach tightens. You were hoping that he would go, even looking forward to it. Is that pathetic? To want to see him everywhere you go? Maybe you were pathetic to the point where you only felt like hanging out with your friends if he was there. 

“I mean, I don’t have a ride so…” you trail off, pretending to pay attention to whatever was playing on the T.V. screen. 

“I’ll go since you’re going, that way you have a ride,” he mumbles, adjusting his posture to lean back on your couch. 

He sighs as he sinks into the plush cushions, spreading his legs while he puts his arms up. You’re very aware of his proximity, and you try not to let it show. But the smell of his cologne invades your senses, knocking the breath out of your chest. 

Wonwoo’s arm circles your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and forcing your head to rest delicately on his broad shoulder. Exhaling, you let yourself enjoy his way of showing affection. Although to him it means nothing, and to you, quite literally everything. 

“Thank you for agreeing to go to Seokmin’s so I have a ride,” you whisper but still avoid eye contact so he doesn’t notice your flustered expression. 

“Thank you for letting me barge in here just so I can talk about my breakup,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head. 

“Of course, what are best friends for?” 

four. 

Most people fall in love gradually, slowly growing feelings for the person before they can even call it love. Like the way the seasons steadily turned from winter to spring. Green grass peeking from underneath the melting snow, or flowers gently blooming and unravelling their new set of stems and petals. For you, it was different.

 Falling in love with Wonwoo wasn’t gradual at all. 

If anything, falling in love with Wonwoo felt like a snowstorm in the middle of a sunny day. Your affection for him grew rapidly, and before you knew it, your mind was clouded with him and him only. It became hard to stay rational as if you were driving down a snow-filled road without any control over the steering wheel. Swerving into different lanes, your brakes malfunction, making it hard to bring your car to a full stop. Falling in love with Wonwoo was not gradual or easy.

When you met him on the first day of your junior year of high school, your sixteen-year-old brain couldn’t fully comprehend your crush on him. He was the shy, scrawny new kid in your class, and no one paid mind to him except you. But that didn’t stop you from liking him. Despite his interest in collecting pokémon cards and his crooked glasses that were too big for his face, you were in love. 

You were like two peas in a pod that whole year, and the only time you and Wonwoo spent time apart was when he had to leave during summer break to visit family in Korea. 

When he returned for your senior year, you could barely recognize him. Suddenly the nerdy Wonwoo you knew was gone. His glasses complimented his face, his hair was styled differently, and most of all, he got hot. A lot of your classmates must’ve seemed to agree because now your best friend and the man you’re in love with gained attention from people who didn’t even bat an eyelash at him last year. 

It annoyed you to see all these people suddenly interested in him. You were angry that just because he grew a few inches and learned to do his hair didn’t mean he was that much different from how he was last year. 

Even though Wonwoo was in a relationship, he still stayed true to your friendship. He still hung out with you, ate lunch with you, you even came over on weekends to have dinner with his family. Day by day, your love for him strengthened, and you ignored that his attention had been divided between you and his girlfriend at the time. 

When their relationship hit three months, it seemed your friendship had come to an abrupt halt. He didn’t invite you for dinner as often, you two didn’t talk on the phone every other night. He started to invest more of his time into her until he decided she wasn’t worth his energy anymore. Then the calls would come, his contact name flashing across your phone screen to ask you for advice. 

“I feel like I need to break up with Haein,” his deep voice flowed through your phone speaker. A sigh left his lips as he faced the truth. 

Haein was Wonwoo’s first girlfriend. She was nice, almost too nice. Wonwoo definitely had a type for girls with a bubbly personality. Ones that were effortlessly beautiful, reminiscent of a freshly made porcelain doll. That was Haein to you, unblemished in every way possible. Everything that you weren’t.

You couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. She was too nice to hate, but your younger self was so angry at how much of Wonwoo's time she took up that you envied her. Seokmin once jokingly mentioned that you looked especially green when she was around, and you remember how quickly you checked your appearance on the nearest reflective surface because of what he had said in passing. You remember vividly how nervous his words made you, was it that obvious?

Wonwoo’s first time calling you about his breakup plans was a delightful surprise, and you were too in shock to sputter out a proper response.

“Oh. Why?” was all you could say, still stunned that after a week of no contact, this was the first thing he said. 

“‘Dunno, I just don’t like her anymore,” he admitted effortlessly. 

You didn’t know how to respond. Your heart was screaming at you to encourage him to break up with his girlfriend at the time, while your brain was telling you to think logically. 

“Well, if that’s what you think is right,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact that you felt a sense of relief at Wonwoo potentially being single again. 

Others may have tried to rationalize with Wonwoo, but you didn’t care. You wanted your friendship with him to turn back to normal. Your adolescent brain ignored that it was wrong to encourage him, as long as he was fully yours again.

History repeated itself over and over, and the older you got, you learnt to not be so selfish with his attention. Mostly out of guilt for the person he was going to break up with, but also because you didn’t want Wonwoo to realize your true feelings. 

Although being in love with Wonwoo was brutal, you constantly wished that things were different between you two, but they weren’t. He’s never seen you as more than a friend, and as your friendship with him progressed, you had begun to learn to mask your romantic feelings for platonic ones. 

five. 

By the time you entered university, you had mastered the art of pretending. As if your feelings for Wonwoo didn’t exist. You are quite meticulous in ensuring that he never realizes that you are profoundly in love with him. The mere thought of him finding out how you truly felt frightened you. 

You’ve already envisioned countless scenarios on how it could go. The idea of being rejected by the one you love most. It would change everything about your friendship with him.  The look of pity in his eyes, the apologies that would spill out of his mouth. You can't bear even the thought of rejection. Not from him. 

Two voices are constantly at war inside your mind. Your brain, acting as the voice of reason, constantly reminds you that it’s better to preserve your friendship. To keep the dynamic you’ve always had with Wonwoo guarded where it could last, thrive. While your heart persuaded you with deluded, fake scenarios. 

‘What if he likes you back?’ 

‘You never know until you try.’ 

‘Take the risk or lose the chance.’ 

What if. 

Like a siren to a sailor, your heart sang with deep imagery. Filling your thoughts with illusions of you and Wonwoo finally together. But your mind doesn’t let you go without a fight. It knows that beyond the deep waters where your siren-voiced heart lies is nothing but a bottomless pit. 

The possibilities are endless, and you’d rather stay safely grounded in your boat of rationality. 

A notification brings you out of your thoughts. Although you already knew that it was Wonwoo, you scramble to pick up your phone. There’s excitement laced in your veins as you look down at the screen. 

7:06 p.m. [wons <3]: be there in 5. 

There was no reason for you to be so ecstatic but you couldn’t help it. He had already texted you prior, notifying you that he was leaving his place to come pick you up, and yet every time your phone buzzes, you still hope that it’s something completely different. But that was your heart talking; you knew that it wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary. 

Everyone had planned to meet at Seokmin’s place today, just to have one last celebration before midterms began again. You had happily agreed, enthusiastic that you could spend more time with Wonwoo, although it wouldn’t be a one-on-one thing. You were more than elated to see him while also being able to hang out with the rest of your friends. 

Throwing your phone back on the bed, you change into an outfit that is both cute and comfortable. There wasn’t a reason to dress up when the vibe at Seokmin’s was just going to be sitting around his living room, drinking cocktails and eating pizza. 

Wonwoo texts you once more to let you know he’s outside, causing you to race down to meet him. A lump in your throat arises, as he comes into your field of vision, appreciating how breathtakingly handsome he is. 

The chilled breeze brushes through the strands of his hair, glasses perched on his tall nose. He looked amazing, just like he always had, but you never get bored of admiring him. Even if it’s just from afar. 

“Hi! Sorry if I kept you waiting,” your voice resounds into the night. 

“It's never a problem if it’s you,” he chuckles as you dawdle over to the passenger side of his car. 

Trying not to read too deep into his words, you snort at his cheesy line instead of giving a response. Watching Wonwoo move to the side as he opens the car door for you. His actions make you blush, and you know you’ll think about it for the rest of the night. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, smiling at you. 

The ride to Seokmin’s house is fairly quiet, the sounds of music filling the silence instead. Your thoughts are overflowing with scenarios once again, wondering how different the car ride would be if you and Wonwoo were in a relationship. His fingers would probably be laced with yours, or rubbing soothingly against your thigh while his other hand gripped the steering wheel. Planting kisses on your cheeks at every red light. It seemed like heaven on the other side. But you knew reality would crush your delusions soon enough. 

…

  The clock on Seokmin’s pale white wall is nearing midnight and you don’t want to be here anymore. Not when the only thing you could focus on was Wonwoo flirting with a girl whose name you didn’t catch. She’s Joshua’s childhood friend and he only brought her along because she’s visiting from out of town. Whoever she was, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to you was the fact that she was able to bring out Wonwoo’s deep laugh. The kind of laugh that only befalls upon your ears when he finds something genuinely funny.

The ugly swirl of jealousy sits in the pit of your stomach and you couldn't help but scoff at your wretched situation. It made you sick watching them, and you could throw up any minute now. At this point, you weren’t sure who to envy, Wonwoo or the girl he was flirting with. You find it unfair that he doesn’t realize how greatly he can impact your feelings. 

Just a few hours ago, you were in utter bliss. Sitting in the front seat of his car, listening to the music softly playing on the ride to Seokmin’s apartment. Making stupid jokes and pointing out the random sights that you had seen while driving down the bustling city streets. You envy how easy it is for Wonwoo to make all those feelings of delight vanish. And he doesn’t even know. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you, and that’s what hurts the most. 

“You doing okay?” Seokmin comes up to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah I’m okay,” you chuckle, but there’s nothing humorous about your laugh at all. 

His eyes soften, he knows that you’re not okay. Seokmin always knew. After all these years, he can tell when you’re trying to save face. There’s a lump in your throat, and if you didn’t have a drink to sip on to distract you, you probably would’ve gone to the bathroom to cry. 

“You wanna talk in my room?” he offers, and you’re grateful. 

Seokmin knew he had to get you somewhere other than the living room. You were practically torturing yourself, sitting on the couch and watching Wonwoo talk to everyone but you. 

Instead of agreeing vocally, you nod your head before standing up to follow Seokmin to his room. The door shuts softly, muffling the sounds of laughter and allowing your uneasiness to finally subside. 

As you sit on Seokmin’s bed, you feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks. It feels pathetic, crying over something so trivial. Why does it have to be you who feels this way? Why can’t you just be a normal friend and see Wonwoo in a platonic light? The whole world could turn upside and he’d be the first person you search for. 

Everything just seemed so unfair, how could you possibly be happy if your feelings for Wonwoo were constantly in the way of it all? It’s tiring, worrying about him, yearning for him. You could do so many other things with your time, and when you look toward the future, you know that you’ll regret how much of your life you wasted loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 

“It’s okay, just let it out,” Seokmin whispers in your ear, embracing you in a tight hug. 

Crying felt good. You rarely cry over your situation despite how upsetting it is. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to finally indulge in your sadness and let go of everything you were too afraid to say or feel.  

“I know it sucks right now, but honestly, it might be time to get over him,” Seokmin continues to comfort you while trying to help you face the reality of your situation. “You’re so hurt, and it’s taking a toll on you. Please, I can’t bear to see you so sad.” 

His words hit you hard because you know it's true. But all you can do is apologize. Saying sorry for feeling this way, even though it’s not your fault, you cannot control your feelings, you still apologize. To Seokmin, to your friends, but also yourself. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you hiccup, tears staining Seokmin’s white shirt. 

“Why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong,” he mutters, his large hand patting your head, trying to soothe your fit of emotions. 

“Because, if I was normal, you wouldn’t have to worry about me, about why I’m always upset, you and the others, my feelings are burdening all of you,” you continue to weep softly in his arms, gripping onto his shoulders as his hands encircle your waist. 

“Hey, look at me–” he grabs your face, gentle as a mouse, rubbing away the tears from your cheeks. “You are not a burden. We care, that’s why we worry, and I just want to be there for you.” 

“Thank you, Seokmin. I’m so happy that I have someone like you in my life,” you pull him into a hug again, knocking the air out of his chest, but he’s still somehow able to hug you even tighter. 

Seokmin is like your favourite childhood blanket, keeping you warm and away from everything that could possibly hurt you. He’s always willing to hear you rant about things that you know you could never tell Wonwoo. 

“I’m so tired, I’m tired of feeling like this,” you admit to him. 

Running his hands through your hair, he gives you a reassuring smile. 

“Maybe it’s time to distance yourself from him a bit, you two have been glued to the hip for so long. Maybe that distance can help organize your feelings better,” he mutters, catching the stray tears that pool at your chin, and wiping them away for you. 

“I want to feel better,” you agree with him, still trying to recover from how hard you were sobbing into his chest. 

“I care about you, okay? We all do. Wonwoo cares about you, too, but there’s a point where you’ll have to be okay with whatever outcome happens if you decide to tell him how you feel. Or you just have to find a way to get over him,” he speaks softly, trying not to crush your heart with reality, but you know he’s right. “In the Future, you will thank yourself for making whatever decision you have to make, but trust me, holding all these feelings in won’t do you any good.” He ends his pep talk there, and you sigh, trying to process everything he said. 

“Thank you, Minnie, I’m so thankful I have you,” you sniffled. 

“And I you.” 

…

Seokmin explained to Soonyoung and Jihoon that you needed to go home after your talk in his bedroom. They were more than happy to take you along with them before heading back to their place, not wanting to force you into a car with Wonwoo at the end of the night. 

“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all,” Soonyoung reassures you after you had asked about a million times if it was okay to ride home with them. 

The car ride is drastically different from the one you had taken on the way to Seokmin’s, Soonyoung being the number one reason why. He’s not the best at reading the room, although Jihoon is constantly telling him to shut up. He knows you are upset over something, but Soonyoung’s way of cheering you up is getting you to laugh. While Jihoon believed that you may want a more peaceful environment after everything that happened. 

As Jihoon drove, Soonyoung sang along with the lyrics of the current song playing. Loud enough for anyone outside the car to hear him. You could tell he was a bit tipsy after the few beers he had earlier, but you didn’t mind the noise. Jihoon begged to differ. 

“Soon, can you tone it down? Please. People are looking at us,” Jihoon grumbles, trying to focus on the road ahead. 

“But you love it when I sing,” Soonyoung whines, and you can’t help but laugh. 

“I do, but our friend has had a long night,” Jihoon counters. 

Soonyoung turns to face you from the passenger seat. “If you want me to be quiet, I will.” 

“No, it’s okay, I’m actually enjoying it, thank you very much,” you giggle, and that was all the confirmation he needed, going back to his antics. 

Jihoon groans as Soonyoung practically breaks out into full song and dance, causing you to sing along with him. This distraction from all the conflicting thoughts gives you a refuge from the war inside your mind.  

The whole way back to your place was filled with singing and laughter, allowing you to finally feel at ease for once. Albeit Jihoon pretended to act annoyed the whole time, you knew he secretly loved how Soonyoung tried to bring the mood back up to help you. 

Once you got home, you thanked the two before bidding them farewell. Apprehension flowed throughout you, and you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts after being around someone as cheerful as Soonyoung. But you didn’t know where else to go or what else to do.

Laying in your bed, you think about how today went from beginning to end, and you’re scared of what will happen in the future. Sighing to yourself, you allow yourself to at least get some rest instead of staying up all night thinking about the possibilities of tomorrow. Turning your phone on "do not disturb," the stillness in your apartment lulls you to sleep. 

1:09 a.m. [wons <3]: seokmin said u went home early? u ok? 

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

chapter one. 

Wonwoo’s ride home was sombre, yet desolate. Your absence from his passenger seat irked him. Street lights whisk by his vision in a blur, but he’s too lost in his thoughts as he drives on autopilot, wondering why you went home so early. You didn’t even say goodbye. It’s the first time you went home from Seokmin’s place without him. 

By the time he got home, his curiosity had started to claw at him, but he didn’t want to be irrational and assume the worst. So he texted you, hoping that there would be an explanation awaiting him in the morning. 

Not a single notification from you came that very next morning. No matter how many times his phone went off, no matter how many notifications popped up from his screen. None of them were you. Morning turned to afternoon, and afternoon slowly turned into night. Still nothing. 

He feels dejected. Everything seemed to be going okay just last night. That was until you abruptly left without telling him you were going home. What changed? Why did it feel like there was a shift between you two? 

Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo. Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the breakup and lose feelings first; every decision he made was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 

Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up at your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 

Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his best friend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 

… 

Less than forty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence was perfectly normal, then maybe you would eventually end up answering him. 

12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?

Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 

1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁

Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 

2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 

Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.

4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 

The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he has witnessed. 

4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 

Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin, of all people, solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 

Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he could keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up. 

two, wonwoo’s summer before senior year. 

The school year flew by with the speed of light. And before Wonwoo knew it, he was home back in Korea for the summer. The dreaded fifteen-hour plane ride over was excruciating. There was an ache in his lower back, and his knees felt like they were being struck by a hammer with every step he took. But at least the worst part was over. 

Sixteen-year-old Wonwoo was quite naive, thinking that he’d be welcomed into his home country with loving arms. That hadn’t been the case at all, and for the two months that he spent in Changwon, he couldn’t help but count the days till he could come back home. Where you had been patiently waiting for him. 

He despised being away from you, and he had yearned for you every moment he was gone. With you by his side, Wonwoo had finally understood the true meaning of solace, a peace of mind that couldn’t be replicated. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.

Every year that Wonwoo was dragged back to Korea by his parents was excruciating. Especially because he had a certain distaste for his relatives. Maybe it was disrespectful to loathe them the way he did, but he couldn’t care less. Their scathing comments would flow out of their mouths just to pierce daggers of judgement into his back. To insult Wonwoo was second nature to his aunts, and he couldn’t do much but sit back and listen.  

Much to his dismay, his parents hadn’t even bothered to book an Airbnb for their stay, informing him and his brother that they would be staying with his aunt. He couldn’t stand his aunt Seo-Ah in particular, and he swore the feeling was mutual. Unsure of why he had to withstand her crude remarks in front of his family without much protest, he forced himself not to dish out rude rebuttals to everything she had to say. 

There was a time when Wonwoo tried to reason with himself on why his aunt was filled with so much bitterness, but he gave up on that long ago. He was about to be seventeen now, and he couldn’t bring himself to empathize with the older lady anymore. 

“Wonwoo! You’re all grown up now, and I can’t believe it,” Seo-Ah forced him into a bone-crushing hug as he tried his best not to push her off of him. She pulled back to take a closer look at him and he could already see the scrutinizing gleam in her eyes, “You know, you’re still so skinny for your age. Do your parents not feed you enough?” 

Wonwoo wanted to scoff at her, but he kept a neutral expression. 

“No they do, I don’t know maybe it’s my fast metabolism or something,” he refuted her claims. He couldn’t wait to get out of her sight. 

“You know, maybe you should start going to the gym, get some muscle on you or something,” she patted his lanky arm and laughed that dreadful laugh. The ones that have no real humour behind it, just to cover up the obvious dig she took at his appearance. 

“Yeah maybe,” he dismisses her to head into the house. Setting his luggage down to check whether or not you’ve texted him yet. 

It was about five in the evening in Changwon, but he knew you wouldn’t be asleep. Faintly recalling how you were planning to stay up late every night to watch BuzzFeed unsolved videos, or until your mom yelled at you to go to bed. 

[4:15 p.m. kst]  [you: i stayed up all night watching buzzfeed unsolved]  [you: im going crazy i keep getting paranoid to the point i’ve turned all my mirrors backwards]  [you: hope ur flight was ok tho!!! 🫶]

He chuckled to himself, remembering your wide eyes and elaborate plan to sneak snacks into your room in the early hours of the morning behind your parents’ backs. Wonwoo missed you, and your stupid obsession with horror podcasts and YouTube shows. He missed the way your smile would shine so bright as you talked about all the haunted places the hosts would visit. 

Wonwoo did not care for horror or anything scary, but if you were to ask him to stay up all night on Facetime binge-watching your little Buzzfeed videos, he would do so in a heartbeat. 

Two days down, about another 89 to go, Wonwoo thought to himself as he looked through your messages with him. You had already spammed the chat mercilessly about your first two days of summer break, and your intricate mission to stay up without accidentally falling asleep in the middle of it all. 

[6:00 p.m. kst] [1 photo attachment]  [you: currently trying to sneak snacks into my room without my mom knowing]  [you: u better not snitch 😾]  [you: its so boring w out u here btw SO COME BACK SOON PLSS]  [you: ok thats enuff…txt me when u land!]

Wonwoo really missed you. 

…

One more week and Wonwoo would finally get to see you again. The ability to talk to you in person, hug you, and spend time with you gave him something to look forward to, and thankfully, summer break went by fast because of it. 

He had spent most of his time in Korea eating at local food spots, going to the gym, and trying a lot of new things with his brother, Seongho, giving them time to bond before he went off to University again. Wonwoo had missed his brother dearly during the school year, but at least they were able to pass the time together during summer break. 

It was initially his brother’s convincing that got him to go to the gym for the very first time. The idea of going to a place with a lot of sweaty, adrenaline-filled people kind of frightened him, but the more he went, the more he started to like what he saw in the mirror. Wonwoo’s shoulders had broadened, and his lanky arms finally started to show signs of muscles. He was satisfied in knowing that all of his hard work, and Seongho’s encouragement had finally paid off. 

Seongho told him he looked a lot more carefree now that he wasn’t so worried about his appearance all the time. And it was then that Wonwoo realized that he wasn’t all that bad-looking, after all. 

Wonwoo had begun to take pride in his vanity. He searched for different ways to style his hair, bought glasses that better suited his face shape, and, most of all, did his best to act more confidently. The sudden change made him wonder how you would react. He had been anticipating your reaction, wanting to see the look on your face once he returned home. 

“You got it. Just one more rep, and we can switch,” Seongho encouraged Wonwoo as he tried to push the bar up from his chest. 

His muscles were aching in the most addictive and satisfying way. He almost wished he had started working out earlier because only good things seemed to have come ever since he stepped foot into the gym. 

“Okay! You’re done, that was good,” his older brother high-fived him, a proud smile dancing along his lips. 

“Thanks, but my arms feel like jelly now,” he huffed a chuckle before gulping down the contents of his water bottle. 

Seongho chuckled along with him before setting himself down on the workout bench. His actions faltered, and he slowly observed the mirror in front of him, raising his eyebrows in amusement. 

“Uh, don’t look now, but I think that girl is staring at you,” Seongho tilted his head in the girl’s direction and Wonwoo couldn’t be more confused. 

“Huh? Are you sure it's me they’re looking at and not you?” 

“I’m serious! You should go talk to her,” Seongho grinned, pushing his younger brother in the direction of the girl who was supposedly eyeing Wonwoo. 

“Hyung!” Wonwoo calls out but it falls on deaf ears as his older brother begins his bench presses. 

Wonwoo turns towards the girl in the most awkward way humanly possible. He was completely dumbfounded and not sure what to do in the situation he’d been put in. The girl who was staring at him waved flirtatiously, and before he could even think about his next move, his feet had begun to move on their own accord. 

“Hi, I saw you working out over there, are you new here?” she asked him, batting her eyelashes. 

“Uhm, I guess? I’m only here for the summer though,” he spoke with apprehension, because what the hell was he even supposed to say? 

“Oh! Me too. My name is Haein, by the way.” Haein’s smile reached her eyes as she giggled, and her hand extended to shake Wonwoo’s. 

Wonwoo’s actions were practically robotic, rubbing his sweaty palms on his gym shorts before taking her hand in his. He remembers thinking about how soft her hands were, and how pretty she looked with her hair tied up in a messy bun. 

“I’m Wonwoo.” 

“Wonwoo, hmm, that’s a cute name. But I think I would like it more in my contacts,” she flirted shamelessly, her fingers squeezing his sweaty bicep. 

Wonwoo’s mind short-circuited, and he took out his phone from his pocket so fast it almost slipped out of his grasp. Haein found it endearing though, and happily gave him her phone number. 

They talked for the rest of Wonwoo's time at the gym and promised to hang out more before they both went home at the end of the summer. 

To put it simply, Wonwoo was on cloud nine for the first time since he’s been here. Suddenly his aunt Seo-Ah’s words weren’t so hurtful, his confidence had skyrocketed, plus he had a beautiful girl to talk to for the rest of his vacation. 

By the end of summer, Wonwoo started to miss you less and less. Even though he still saw you as his best friend, he began to find peace in other things, like the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore of his hometown. Finally, for the first time in his life, Wonwoo felt serene, and that made him a little more whole than he was when he first landed in Changwon. 

…

The after-effects of Wonwoo’s surprisingly pleasant summer vacation hadn’t worn off just yet. The gift of Haein appearing in his life seemed to just keep on giving. Not only did she live overseas, she had told him that she was actually from the same city as him. It was a little hard to believe at first as if he was the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain. Haein made him feel wanted, excited, and cared for. 

Wonwoo wasn’t entirely devoid of those feelings, especially with you as his best friend, but it was different coming from Haein. Every time he saw her, he felt like he was going to throw up, in a good way of course, but she also boosted his confidence. He liked that she made him feel like he was a man worth depending on. 

Haein was his first real relationship, and although he was still young, he could see himself being with her for a long time. 

…

Quite like the seasons, Wonwoo’s feelings for Haein changed drastically by the time school was back in session. Although he and Haein lived in the same city, there was a lot more than just distance that separated them. 

Six months into their relationship, Wonwoo began to doubt himself. He was less eager to meet her or even text her. He could only blame himself for how things turned out with Haein. Despite his adolescence, he believed he loved her; he just got tired and disinterested. 

On a subconscious level, Wonwoo could not stop comparing Haein to you, and as fucked up as that was, it was completely out of his control. Why didn’t Haein ever want to talk about what Wonwoo was interested in? Why did she seem bored out of her mind when he would delve into his theories about his favourite shows? Or anything about himself and what he liked. As though she didn’t see him for the Wonwoo he was, the personality he had behind his looks. 

“It all makes sense now! Eren had Zeke fooled!” Wonwoo couldn’t contain his excitement about the newest episode, but Haein didn’t seem interested in hearing her boyfriend geek out. 

“I'm sorry babe, but I gave up after the first episode,” Haein sighed into the phone, and if Wonwoo could guess, she was probably picking at her cuticles out of boredom. “I just didn’t get anything that was happening.” 

“Wait, really?” He was a little offended, how could she not be obsessing over the beautiful intricacies of his favourite anime? Wonwoo didn’t understand. 

He didn’t understand because when he introduced you to the show, you texted him the next day saying you were caught up to where he had left off. It amazed Wonwoo how fast you were at binge-watching shows, especially because he had told you about it on a weekday. 

You came into school the morning after with dark circles under your eyes, but even with that tired look on your face, you ran up to him with so much eagerness while thanking him for urging you to watch his favourite show. You two were obsessed and never missed out on watching the weekly episodes together.  It had become you and Wonwoo’s thing, and even though he wanted Haein to join in on the fun, he found himself more entertained by your theories than by talking on the phone with his girlfriend. 

It dawned on him that he wished that Haein acted a little more like you. And it made him feel guilty. He knew he should’ve loved Haein no matter her interests, but he wanted someone who could understand his nerdy side. And that was only something that you were able to do. 

“Honestly, I’m really tired, I’m gonna go to bed now okay?” Haein’s voice brought Wonwoo out of his thoughts. 

“Oh okay. Night.” He said before ending the call so quickly that Haein’s ‘I love you’ was cut off mid-sentence. 

Haein probably had thought he had forgotten, but Wonwoo just didn’t want to say those words if he didn’t mean it. He had grown annoyed, and a little bored of practically talking to a wall all night.  

Comparable to the light switching off in his bedroom, he decided to do the same thing with Haein. He pushed his guilt aside and decided it was probably best to leave Haein and Changwon in the past. The memories of his last week of summer with her would become something he would look back on in the future and smile. But he didn’t want to pretend any longer, it would’ve just hurt her more if he stayed, he couldn’t help that he fell out of love with her. The least he could do was not lead her on. 

Wonwoo’s relationship with Haein was merely a catalyst and a peek into what the rest of his relationships were going to look like in adulthood. He was never able to comprehend why he couldn’t keep feelings for anyone after the six-month mark, and it almost frustrated him. Something was missing in every single relationship he had been in, and he wasn’t sure what that was. But he was determined to find an answer. 

three, present time.

The answer was you. But of course, Wonwoo didn’t know that. 

“Are you gonna keep checking your phone every five minutes or are you gonna do your homework?” Mingyu lectures him. 

The two were studying in the library before their stats midterm, but Wonwoo’s mind couldn’t help but wonder. He hasn’t been acting like himself since the night of Seokmin’s party. 

“Oh, right.” Wonwoo clears his throat, putting his phone face down on the table. 

Wonwoo drags his palms against his face, trying to not let sleep overtake him. It is not his fault that every time he tries to close his eyes, your face comes into his mind. The memory of you smiling with Seokmin made his insides twist. He hasn’t seen you smile that hard in a while, and he almost misses how your eyes crinkle whenever you do so. You were practically haunting him and he had no idea how to make it stop. 

“Not to be rude, but you’ve been looking like shit lately. What’s wrong?” Mingyu questions him with furrowed eyebrows. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his friend, he didn’t have to be insulted to know how crappy he looked, but Mingyu seemed to only be telling the truth. Wonwoo did look and feel like shit. With the amount of near run-ins he’s had with you and Seokmin on campus, he’s begun to sense that it’s some sort of karma. Whatever that karma may be for, he fully believes that it’s completely unwarranted. 

Forcing a hand through his dark locks, Wonwoo contemplates whether or not he should just go up to you in person and demand answers. It’s uncommon for the two of you to fight, or ignore each other for that matter. But he can’t help but presume that if he were to confront you about your silence, there would be no rightful explanation. Or at least not the explanation that he wants from you. 

Every time he even fathoms the thought of barging into your apartment and asking what the hell is wrong, there’s a lingering nervousness that he wishes would dissipate, leading him to lay awake with his thoughts for hours on end. 

“Thanks for that, asshole, I just haven’t been getting much sleep,” Wonwoo huffs. 

“Okay, obviously. You practically look like a zombie with the way you’ve been moping around. What has been keeping you up?” Mingyu presses. 

It’s not every day that Wonwoo indulges in his problems with Mingyu, that’s what you were for. However, he can’t talk about his problems about you, to you, so he’ll have to settle for the next best thing.  

“Y/N has been ignoring me since the night we all hung out at Seokmin’s,” Wonwoo confesses, and it feels nice. 

For the past two weeks, he’s been keeping his frustrations to himself, and now that he can freely speak about it lifts the weight off his chest. 

Mingyu snorts, obviously finding his friend’s situation humorous. Wonwoo sneers at Mingyu’s reaction, clearly not finding anything about you ignoring him funny. 

“Serves you right, you’re a dick to her, man.” Mingyu shrugs without any remorse to spare. 

“What?” Wonwoo sputters, since when was he a dick to you? His best friend? 

“How blind are you? You have glasses and everything but you can’t see how mean you are to her sometimes? Really?” Mingyu almost sounds offended on your behalf as he stares at Wonwoo with an incredulous expression. 

“I am not a dick to her. She would definitely tell me if I’ve ever said something to hurt her feelings,” Wonwoo defends himself. 

Attempting to rack his brain of all your moments together, he can’t seem to pick out a memory where he has been especially rude to you. Of course, you two teased each other from time to time, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He knew when to not take a joke too far or purposely try to upset you. 

“You’re a dumbass.” Mingyu lets out a frustrated sigh which only aggravates Wonwoo even more. 

“Could you stop with the insults for one second and just tell me what’s going on?” 

Shutting his laptop, Mingyu’s posture becomes serious, a deviation from his usual carefree and smiley self. He cares about you just as much as the next person, so if he had to reality-check his friend, then so be it. 

“She cares about you a lot. And you treat her like shit. It’s not about what you’ve said to her, it’s your actions. Ever since we were in high school all you’ve done is use her to solve your problems. I can’t even blame her for wanting to cut you off. I don’t know what happened at Seokmin’s place for her to realize that, but you don’t deserve her,” Mingyu confesses. 

Soaking up each word that left Mingyu’s mouth, Wonwoo sat in a pool of perplexity. There are so many questions flying through his mind, yet he can’t seem to utter a single word. Is that really how everyone perceives his friendship with you? 

Wonwoo is going to throw up. There's a tightness in his chest and a burning sensation behind his eyes. He wants nothing more than to hear all of this coming from you, not Mingyu. The frustration of wanting to talk to you about this is taking a toll on him, he doesn’t want to believe that Mingyu is telling the truth. 

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Mingyu gets to know these things about you while Wonwoo is just left in the dark. Did he make you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything? 

Ever since Wonwoo met you, it was evident that he can be quite merciless when it comes to his relationships, but that’s romantic, not platonic. Wonwoo was convinced that he treated you equally because that’s how it's supposed to be. 

Hearing Mingyu talk about his friendship with you in that way caused Wonwoo’s whole world to crash down. And the only thing he can do in moments like these is seek out your comfort, except he can’t anymore. Not only has he been a terrible friend without realizing it, but he’s pushed you so far to the brink that you’d rather ignore him than attempt to hash out what’s been troubling you.

“I-I didn’t know that's how you guys saw our friendship,” Wonwoo falters, clearly taken aback, and still attempting to fully comprehend what’s been said to him. 

“It’s not that we see your friendship with her that way, it is that way. If I was her, I would’ve cut you off a long time ago.” 

“Well, thanks, Gyu. I feel like this could’ve been said before she started ignoring me,” Wonwoo huffs, trying to come up with the words to explain his side.

“It was kinda obvious, man,” Mingyu shrugs. 

“Was it, though? If I had known, I would’ve at least tried to be better,” Wonwoo attests, tired of feeling like the bad guy. 

“How about you just talk to her about it instead of sulking,” Mingyu suggests. 

Desperation hijacked his rational thinking, making Mingyu’s advice sound plausible. Talking to you seemed out of the equation since you started ignoring him; he feared you wouldn’t even answer if he tried to call or show up at your door. But he can’t go on like this, especially now that he knows there is more to your friendship than he had initially thought. 

four. 

For the first time in Wonwoo’s life, he’s unsure about what decision to make. Although he wants nothing more than to knock on your door, his feet stop him from even entering your building. So instead of mucking up the courage to talk to you face to face, he waits inside his car. Without a solid plan, he continues to sit there, biding his time. 

Never has he acted so pathetic in his life, not even for the sake of his relationships. He knows that nothing will come from sitting there, just watching, but before he can even comprehend what he is doing and where he is going, he is already across the street from your place. 

Gripping on the leather of his steering wheel, he just couldn’t help himself. He can’t help but watch your silhouette from your window. The curtains are drawn, but there are glimpses of you walking around. He’s such a fucking loser. What type of person has Wonwoo become that he resorts to stalking you from the front of your building? 

After all that Mingyu has enlightened him on, Wonwoo’s attitude has become less angry and more apologetic. There was a line he pondered crossing, and it practically mocked him. Stepping over that line would mean getting answers from you, demanding to be brought into the light that you had snuffed out from under him. But his uncertainty of the outcome outweighed his decision to do so.

That same apologetic attitude died a fiery death after watching Seokmin leave your apartment. There you were in all your glory, the tiny sleep set clinging onto your body as the wind forced its way into the door of your building. Then there was Seokmin, grinning like a fucking idiot as he waved goodbye. 

“Shit!” Wonwoo grunts as he ducks down, not wanting to blow his cover. His car was visible from where the two of you stood, hoping that you weren’t able to recognize it in the dead of night.  

Boring holes into the back of Seokmin’s head, Wonwoo's guilt diminished, floating away with the cold night breeze. You were fine, and he should’ve known that the root of all his problems started with the name Lee Seokmin. 

The shape of your figure had faded into the confines of your building. Yet Wonwoo can still make out your body through the glass window of your door. He can’t help but gawk at your skimpy attire, your ass practically on display for the whole world to see. The deathly twist in his gut intensifies the more he ponders on what may have happened during Seokmin’s visit. Wonwoo desperately wants to stop thinking about the possibilities, especially because your lack of clothing only fueled that inferno inside his mind. 

He’s never been more annoyed at Seokmin in his entire life, not until today. 

Wonwoo allowed himself to ignore the signs, but only for a moment. But this, this he can’t ignore. Not after what he witnessed. He allowed himself to stay ignorant when it came to your silence because he had been so naive to think that it was your decision. Now that he knows Seokmin had somehow weaselled his way closer to you, Wonwoo had to make sure this plan of his didn’t go on any longer. 

…

There is a heat inside Wonwoo that, for some reason, he cannot extinguish. The curve and outlines of your body burn in the back of his retinas. No matter how many times he’s tried to put himself to sleep, the image of you is clear as day in his mind.  Sparks crawl their way up his spine, and he desperately wishes that it would just go away. 

There’s a point where Wonwoo gave up on trying to sleep altogether. Thoughts of you, your body, and the oh-so-painful reminder that you’re still ignoring him. How can he sleep with everything going on? What made things worse, was the fact that the one person he wanted to call most likely wouldn’t pick up.

Wonwoo wasn’t the type of person to let his emotions get the better of him, but this abrupt rift that has been torn between you two has him acting out in ways he’s never acted before. 

The urge to grab his phone, to text you, to give it one more try, grows perpetually every second he lies awake. 

One more time. One more attempt. What does he have to lose? 

Wonwoo stands up, pacing around nonsensically, trying to think of what to say. For all he knows, you may not even answer, but there is the urge to hear your voice one more time and see your name pop up on his screen. Wonwoo yearns for you so much so that it supersedes any part of common sense he has left in him. 

[12:52 a.m.]  [wons <3: darling. can we talk? please?]  [not delivered] 

The silence within the four walls of Wonwoo’s bedroom is harrowing. Out of all the outcomes he had considered before he texted you, the outcome of you blocking him was not even on the list. 

Before jumping to some sort of conclusion, Wonwoo’s finger hovers over the call button with skepticism. If you don’t pick up, then that’s it. That would be the definitive answer to all his qualms. 

“The number you have called is not available, please leave a message at the tone,” an automated voice affirmed his suspicions. 

The notification is gut-wrenching, but he can’t just sit here and pretend like it’s okay for you to do this. To decide without any of his input. What kind of friend were you to just drop him like he was nothing but an old toy? How unfair did you have to be to not even try to talk it out before you completely cut him off? 

five. 

Pacing outside the door of your apartment, Wonwoo hasn’t been this nervous in years. He has always been so sure of himself, but it’s almost two in the morning and he’s still continuing to weigh his options. 

It’s either you’ll let him in, and talk for the first time in almost two weeks, or you’ll kick him out before he can step a foot past the door. Desperately, he desires that it be the first option. Losing you over this would break him, and not in the way you would expect. 

He’s already lost his mind. This shouldn’t be the way you two break it off. It won’t be the way you two break it off. Not if Wonwoo has a say in the situation. 

Sweaty palms and white knuckles rasp against the dark oak that barricades himself from you. There’s nothing that Wonwoo wants more than to see your face glowing in front of him. And before he can even get a word out to you, the door whips open. The person on the other side is someone Wonwoo is starting to get really sick of seeing. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Both Wonwoo and Seokmin speak in unison. 

Scoffing, Wonwoo rolls his eyes at his so-called friend, “I think I should be asking you that. You clearly don’t live here.” 

“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” your voice is as sweet as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. 

Minnie. Wonwoo almost threw up in his mouth. 

Minnie. The nickname is parallel to nails scraping against a chalkboard. 

“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin goads through a sickly sweet smile, eyes never leaving Wonwoo’s. Without as much as a word of mockery, Seokmin’s expression had said more than his words ever could have. 

Despite his soft demeanour, Wonwoo knew there was something vile hiding under Seokmin’s thick skin. 

A rebuttal to his deception is on the tip of Wonwoo’s tongue, but your melodic voice echoes throughout your home once more. The refute dies within his throat, and he hopes you will come out and see what your “neighbour” is looking for. 

“Okay!” is the only response you give out. The reverberation of the water hitting the shower tiles causes Wonwoo’s stomach to practically lurch out his abdomen. 

“Whatever you’re doing, she’s not gonna fall for it,” Wonwoo jeered, staring at Seokmin with looks that should kill, if he could. 

Seokmin chuckles bitterly, “She already has.” 

There was no need for Wonwoo to put two and two together; he already knew what Seokmin was alluding to. It left a dreadful taste in his mouth. 

Puffing out his chest, Wonwoo takes a step closer towards the man he once considered a close friend. Sizing him up, he knew that Seokmin was the reason for the wedge in your friendship. And Wonwoo had no problem treating him as such. 

“You’re fucking sick, you know that?” Wonwoo practically spits in his face. 

“I could say the same thing for you,” Seokmin mutters, unperturbed, “I didn’t have to do anything you know? Just a little push and she fell into my lap, voluntarily.” 

“I’m not just going to let you get away with something like this. She’s my best friend.” 

“I think the correct tense is was. She was your best friend,” Seokmin taunted. 

He was wrong about Seokmin. Even though he had known about his friend's crush on you for years, Wonwoo didn’t expect the lengths Seokmin would go to in order to cut him out of the picture. 

Before a breath could even escape his lips, Seokmin cuts him off, “I think it’s time for you to leave. She doesn’t want to see you.”

The last few words that he heard come out of Seokmin’s mouth nearly fell on deaf ears. It was practically a whisper, laced with enough malice to almost kill the fighting spirit inside him. Almost. 

“By the way, don’t text her anymore. I’ve made sure she won’t get any more notifications from you.” 

The realization had struck Wonwoo hard. He knew you well enough that you wouldn’t just block him so carelessly, without a word no less. Yet he was no match for Seokmin, not after the fact that you allowed him into your home, your heart, so willingly. 

…

Lying in wait, Wonwoo observes the door of your building once more. The distinct difference this time was that Wonwoo had no guilt left in him to care. Whether you see him or his car across the street didn’t matter to him anymore. The only thing Wonwoo wanted to make sure of was whether or not Seokmin would be leaving your place. 

After what had felt like hours, he watched the same scene from last night unfold in front of him once more. The abhorrent hug goodbye that is exchanged between you and Seokmin is nothing but a cue for Wonwoo to make his move.

With as much grace as a bull in a china shop, he slams the car door shut, not even bothering to lock it before he stalks his way to your apartment. The anticipation caused the hairs on his neck to stand straight up. As he presses the button to your floor, he can only deliberate whether any of Seokmin’s words hold any truth behind them.

 Certainly not, right? Not after all the years you spent together. His friendship with you couldn’t end on this vague note. You were always the sentimental type, holding onto trinkets, memories, and even people for far too long. It should be the same with Wonwoo; he believed it would be the same. 

If there is a chance, you should allow him to talk and voice his opinion. No, Wonwoo will voice his opinion; there has never been a time when you haven’t let him speak. 

As the elevator ascends to your floor, anxiety begins to weigh down his shoulders. The feeling is atypical and Wonwoo hates how his throat constricts. He hates how his clothes feel too tight and stuffy despite his casual attire. Is this how it feels? To actually care about someone and whether their decisions might affect him later on? 

Footsteps echo within the hallway, and with each step he takes, the illusion steadily becomes more vivid. Your front door almost looks like it’ll take a mile before Wonwoo can reach it, rather than a few feet away. 

After what felt like years, Wonwoo stands before the entrance of your home once more. The foreboding tension won’t vanish and it’s starting to make him itch. Without another thought, Wonwoo forces himself to knock on the door knowing it’ll be you who answers this time, not Seokmin. 

“Minnie? Did you leave something agai—,” Abrupt silence engulfs your words, leaving nothing but an echo to resonate within the expanse of your long hallway.

“Wonwoo…” your voice falters, like you genuinely didn’t expect to see him, let alone have him standing outside your door. 

“Did you fuck him?” Wonwoo cuts to the chase, not leaving any room for you to ask questions. 

His blunt words caused a frown to grace your soft pink lips, and Wonwoo almost felt bad for being so frank. But he doesn’t have time to beg for your forgiveness, the anger surmounting to nothing but harsh words and a push past you and into your home. 

“Did you fuck him? Yes or no?”  Wonwoo continues to press you for answers, agitated that you have the audacity to stand there dumbfounded. As if you don’t know who he's talking about. “C’mon, you know who I’m talking about,” he can almost laugh at the situation in front of him. 

How is it that all the rage he built up for Seokmin is being taken out on you? Wonwoo had no clue, but the thought of his friend-now-enemy defiling you, tasting you, while Wonwoo desperately waited for your call caused him to direct all his anger to you. Perhaps it’s undeserving to do so, but Wonwoo’s frustration spoke for him before his brain could even register what he was saying. 

“The past two weeks you’ve been ignoring me, spending your time with him, do you know where his true intentions lie?” Wonwoo continues to rant with unpreparedness. 

He didn’t plan what he was going to say because there was a moment of doubt, he had expected you to open the door just to slam it right back in his face. The look you gave him almost brought him to his knees. Your doe-eyed expression could’ve broken down every wall he’s built if only he hadn’t let his anger proceed him. 

Wonwoo should’ve cried, to plead for you to take him back. To go back to the way things were. He knew he fucked up the moment he uttered a single word. The hurt flashed across your face as though Wonwoo turned your world upside down. 

“Seokmin doesn’t care about you, and I’ll tell you that now because you need to hear it. He just wants to fuck you! And you just gave that to him?” He can’t stop talking. 

“Stop. Just stop fucking talking Wonwoo. Do you hear yourself right now?” You cut off his rant. “Out of all people, who gave you the right to tell me who I can and cannot fuck? Especially knowing the type of person that you are. It doesn’t matter if Seokmin and I had sex. What matters is the fact that you think you can barge in here at two-thirty in the morning interrogating me over a situation that doesn’t involve you.” 

“No. I’m just trying to help you. Seokmin isn’t the person that you think he is,” Wonwoo seethes, annoyed at how you’re twisting his words. 

The bile in his throat rose further, as you stood before him like he had just kicked your dog. Wonwoo’s extremely aware of the hole he had dug for himself, but he couldn’t stop. His urge to self-sabotage overrides his common sense. 

“That is exactly what we’re not going to do right now. Seokmin has been a better friend to me than you have been in all the years we’ve known each other. I have been by your side for years, bending over backwards. I was at your beck and call and I’m tired. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and warn myself about you. I fell in love with my best friend, and the worst part was that you didn’t care enough to notice. 

“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you. It consumed every part of me to the point I couldn’t even come up for air. And I’m just sick of it. I know there’s a part of you that cares about me too, but it’ll never be equal. I’ll always love you more than you love me, and I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” 

“What hurts me the most, is that you thought it would be okay to accuse me of things I didn’t even do. I did not sleep with Seokmin, but why is that what you care about?  He respects me and just wants to be there for me. And that’s a lot more than I could ever say about you.” 

Your voice was terrifyingly calm, with neither a lilt nor a hiccup during your speech. The heft of your declaration crashed back down onto Wonwoo, leaving him at a loss for words. 

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing to come out of his mouth after a long pause. 

“Please. It’s late, you should go home,” you sigh, but Wonwoo couldn’t move an inch. He refused. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats himself, looking into your eyes, searching for the look of endearment you had always given him. 

“Wonwoo…” there it is. Your voice had broken for the first time since Wonwoo stepped foot in the place. 

“Please. I’m so fucking sorry. For getting angry, for doubting you, for not realizing how badly you were hurting,” Wonwoo resorted to pleading. 

A look of desperation mixed with agony was the only thing you could exchange for his apologies.

The stare of grief you had given him caused a shooting pain to swell throughout his limbs. The one that begins at his fingertips, creeping up to tug at the strings that held his heart together. He wanted this nightmare to end, and he was sure you did too. 

“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.”  A single tear slips and trickles down your cheek. 

He regrets not wiping it away for you at that moment. It was the first time he had been so unsure of his actions. So, instead, he walked out of your apartment, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of his cologne and a piece of his heart. 

Wonwoo's world was crumbling underneath him, and there was only one person he refused to let go of. He should’ve known.

He should’ve known that you were in front of him this whole damn time.

end of act one.

⊹ a/n: if you liked this story pls dont be afraid to let me know thru a reblog, comment or ask! also a big ty to my beshies forever @vapidlynn and @bunnyjjongie who i've texted multiple times in the wee hours of the morning for reassurance abt this thing hehe.

[wallabywhump]

Does anyone wanna pre-read my 9-1-1 fics? I'm in desperate need of someone to chat about 9-1-1 with, because my husband is not fandom motivated and my DC fandom friends are reaching the "ohhh...you still into Buck and Tommy?" stage LMAO

Like just today, talking about my new multichap fic for BuckTommy week;

My husband: "That was good." Me: "Good?" My husband: "Yep. Can't wait for chapter 3."

I'm...??? Thanks baby, but I was wondering if you had a little more than that. What did you like about it? Were they in character? Did it feel believable? Does it flow from chapter 1?

My husband: "All of that, yes."

I don't really venture into discord often, but I might poke my head into one, because it's dire out here lol. 😭😭😭

[evreeone]

text (i can't put read-mores anymore without preface text, is why there's something here always)

i feel like there's a switch in my brain that gets flipped every other day that just has flipping between "i'm okay, i can just bide my time the next (hopefully only) four years, i'm somewhere that at least state-wise is protective, i won't have it as bad as everyone else, it's going to be fine. i have my small community in the form of my friends if nothing else, and i have at least One friend irl who is pretty supportive and protective, even if the world around me is going to fall apart i won't be alone in it and it might fall apart less for me personally so maybe i shouldn't be so negative" or "i want to [----] myself, i'm sick and getting sicker, old and getting older and i can barely physically handle climate change right Now let alone how it'll worsen once environmental protection policies get cut, i'm in a city where racists are pretty bold and i'm already too afraid to leave my house, i'm going to have to watch people i love and care about and family in less safe states suffer even more, i'm going to watch the birds suffer, Why do i even Want to continue living this life because there's no Living to it as someone who is just a shut-in and now any small tentative hopes i had for a future in being more openly queer are Pretty Much Gone because i'm not strong enough to persist as myself in the current political environment"

every time i wake up. the smallest tinge of hope some mornings and then complete and utter hopelessness other mornings, and it's exhausting. i never really think about the future much because i always expect to die before i get there but it's been especially hard to grapple with the fact that the one time i started to (within the past year) it immediately went to shit.

i still really don't know what to do, for myself or for others, and i think the answer might really just be Nothing and that's. hard. as it stands though i am still clinging to rain world dlc release date as at least a Gotta Get This Far marker and just crossing my fingers something else is dangled in front of my brain like a horse and a carrot that'll help me continue to push myself forward

[cosmogyros]

It is fucking amazing how often I have to unfollow people for bodyshaming others related to their choice to shave or not. And the fascinating thing is that this judginess is ALWAYS aimed at women. Men who don't shave? Fine. Men who do shave? Also fine. It's their body, they can do what they like with it, right?

But as soon as we're talking about women, suddenly it's totally okay to prescribe what they ought to do about their OWN bodies. I never used to see this many "women shouldn't shave" posts here, and the recent uptick is concerning to me.

I understand that it's rooted in a pushback against patriarchal norms that pressure all women to remove their body hair. And I fully support that. But you've gotta understand that if you react to these norms by saying "women should all shave? actually no, women should NOT shave!" ...YOU'RE STILL BEING SEXIST. You're still saying that women "should" do something different with their bodies because YOU think they ought to.

It's absolutely wild to me how often internalized misogyny can be revealed by simply asking oneself "If the genders were switched, would I be saying this (in any context except as a joke)?" And if the answer is no, then... maybe don't say it.

Freedom is always more revolutionary. Letting people make their own choices is always more revolutionary. If you react to someone's attempt to enforce a certain standard by attempting to enforce the opposite standard instead, you are not on the side of freedom.

[eclarinet]

same soup... different day

[dizzybevvie]

"not pro-ana just using the tags" "pro-ana only for myself" Ok but you see how you're still hurting people right. you see how you're perpetuating this mindset for other people by posting about it right.

[curiously-a-dreamer]

I guess this is a me problem but gosh it rubs me the wrong way when I’m looking for transition related resources and I have to read through slogs of people labeling fairly neutral (and occasionally somewhat feminine) things as being extremely feminine or womanly or whatever. Like I really do get that dsyphoria is hard but man I wish people would be more normal on posts that people are using to get help

[emstargazer]

Poked around another recent mutual's blog since they seem like an oasis of good stuff, just to get shocked by #@!&!, again.

Twice. It happened. Twice.

Visibly trembling right now. I'm not joking.

Oh fuck me... I think I'll need to unfollow a mutual even though I really don't want to, because I just saw a name I was NEVER expecting to see on my dash.

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:24」 — l.jihoon

» seventeen menu | woozi menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ yuki-otoko!Jihoon × fem!Reader wc: 3.4k summary: As a snow demon, Jihoon can’t stand the heat and takes to staying in his apartment he shares with his roommate, Y/N. When the AC breaks down, Jihoon asks Y/N for help in keeping him cool. genres/themes/au: smut; supernatural, horror, thriller, roommates to lovers; non idol au, roommate au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, roommates; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: this was a LOT of fun to write. I enjoyed the ice aspect of it. It’s not heavy on the spitting but it is there lol it’s more heavy on the temperature play and now I wanna tie Jihoon down to my bed and tease him with ice cubes. Hehe anyway, thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging and supporting my ko-fi, linked on my pinned post! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), temperature play (m receiving), spitting (m receiving. Yeah, I know. That’s different haha), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (don’t do dis), use of pet names (hers: baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. his: babe, baby, Hoonie, etc.), that should be everything but I might have missed some. Let me know if I did! kinks: Temperature play + spitting dialogue prompt: ❛❛ What? Does that feel good? ❜❜

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Jihoon let out a grumbled curse as he hit the hard plastic casing of the AC unit once more, as if that would magically make the blasted thing function. It rumbled for a moment before sputtering and dying, all the cool air blowing from the vent ceasing in an instant. He let out a groan of frustration as he stepped down from the step ladder.

“Stupid, fucking, thing,” he mumbled as he picked up the ladder, folded it, and put it away.

It was October and while most of the time, the world around him was starting to cool, summer was holding on, its claws embedded as he tried to stick out for as long as possible. Jihoon hated the summer. The unbearable heat, the unrelenting sun beating down on the world, scorching everything in its path. He hated all of it.

Which is why he was thankful for the fact he worked from home and hardly ever had to leave the apartment. He was even able to order the groceries online when you, his roommate, weren’t able to pick them up after work.

Jihoon walked into his room, grabbing one of the small hand held fans he kept in case of emergencies and turning it on, sighing as the fan whirred to life, blasting him with a small breeze. He started a search through the apartment, gathering every single fan he could find. He was on a mission.

Summer had been unbearably hot this year, the heat rising up near the hundreds almost daily. The humidity was no help, sitting comfortably in the eighty to ninety percent range, making it not only scorchingly hot but sweltering. And if you were dying, you could only image how the heat was affecting your roommate.

Jihoon was not accustomed to such high temperatures, having come from a very cold climate and built to withstand sub zero extremes. He always had a hard time with the summer but this season had been particularly hard on him and he had spent most, if not all, of his time in the apartment, unable to leave because of the extreme heat.

And you knew it was about to get worse. 

When you had woken up that morning, it was in a pool of your own sweat. The AC had stopped working and you only had your fan to cool you off which was not nearly enough. You tried to fix it yourself but you only had so much time to devote to your attempts before you had to get ready for work. Upon leaving, you left a note for Jihoon explaining that the AC was out and that you couldn’t fix it.

Upon arriving at work and after your morning meeting, you called the apartment complex manager, got transferred to maintenance and called in a work order. The woman answering the phone promised to put in the order and expedite it due to the climbing temperatures the coming weekend. You had sent a text to Jihoon, informing him of this and all you had received back was a sad frowning face.

As you finished up your work for the day, you checked your phone to find a few texts from your roommate. You checked them as you got onto the elevator, pressing the button for the lobby.

Hoon: i tried to fix it

Hoon: no luck )):

Hoon: it’s so hot ;^;

Hoon: i’m going to die

Hoon: help

You chuckled as you typed a response, letting him know you were on your way home and you would stop to get some ice cream on the way. You jokingly told him to stick his head in the freezer before slipping your phone into your purse as the elevator arrived at the lobby and you headed out the door onto the busy sidewalk.

The bus ride to the train station was uneventful and you were thankful to be out of the heat of the setting sun, underground where it was much cooler. The AC of the train didn’t even help with all the bodies crammed into the metal tube, heat radiating from one person to another. Upon arriving home, you were thankful for the AC in the lobby and elevator. Even the cool air of the hallway felt nice but entering your apartment, it felt awful.

You shut the door, turning to set your keys on the small table next to the door as you pulled your shoes off. Walking further into the room, you noticed the fans first and stared curiously at them. At least five fans were sitting in front of the couch. The three smaller desk ones sitting on the coffee table while two tower fans stood on either side, pointing directly at your roommate.

Jihoon looked like he was melting into the furniture, a small handheld fan in his hands pointed directly at his face. His brows furrowed, face twisted in what you could only assume to be agony. A thin layer of sweat coated his pale skin. He’d taken off most of his clothes, wearing only a white tank and a pair of gym shorts. “You look awful,” you scoffed as you leaned over, resting against the back of the couch.

His eyes fluttered open, head tilting back to look up at you. “I’m dying,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. You sighed, reaching down to feel his clammy skin. “You’re a little warm,” you said softly. “You want me to put a wet towel on your forehead?” you asked. He nodded weakly and you stood up straight, walking down the hall to the linen closet, grabbing a washcloth and walking back to the kitchen, turning on the cold water tap.

Once coating the cloth and wringing out most of the liquid, you returned to the couch, folding the cloth in half before setting it on Jihoon’s forehead. He let out a sigh of relief, eyes shut as he basked in the cool feeling of the wet cloth against his skin. “Have you tried taking a cold shower?” you asked, leaning against the couch again. Jihoon nodded. “Yeah,” he answered. “Twice!”

You clicked your tongue, reaching down to brush his dark hair back. “I need an ice bath,” he murmured as you stroked his hair. “If you had said something, I would have gotten a bag of ice from the convenience store on the corner.” You perked up, standing suddenly. “Speaking of…”

You walked over to the black plastic bag and pulled out two boxes of Melona, moving to the freezer to put both boxes away. You tore open one, grabbing a popsicle and shut the door before returning to the couch. “Here,” you said, holding the frozen treat out for Jihoon. His eyes opened halfway and he reached out for the popsicle. “You’re an angel,” he murmured as he gave you a weak smile.

“Have I ever told you that?” he asked. You shook your head, resisting the urge to smirk. “Well,” he said, tearing open the wrapper. “You are.” He opened his mouth, placing the frozen melon treat on his tongue, humming contentedly. “I’m gonna go shower,” you announced. “Did you take my fan, too?” you asked, glancing at the fans in front of him. He shook his head.

“No,” he replied, removing the popsicle from his mouth, licking his lips. “I left yours alone.” You patted his head before heading down the hall to your room, pushing open the door to find like he said, your fan was sitting in its usual place. You shut the door, moving to your bathroom to strip and get into the shower. You turned on the stream, stepping under it before it even heated up, enjoying the cold water against your hot skin.

You rushed through your shower, keeping the water warm enough to wash yourself but not scalding like you normally liked it. Once finished, you stepped out, drying off and pulling on clean clothes. A pair of shorts and a lightweight tank top. You headed back into the living room to find Jihoon hadn’t moved an inch. His popsicle had been consumed and he was breathing slowly as he basked in the fan generated winds.

You shook your head, moving to get a bowl from the cabinet. Jihoon perked up as you moved about the kitchen, peeking up over the back of the couch as you moved to the sink. You turned on the faucet, filling the bowl halfway before turning it off and heading to the fridge, opening the freezer and scooping some of the ice out into the bowl. 

You started back towards your room and noticed him peering at you over the back of the sofa. “You good?” you asked, raising a brow. He shook his head. “What’s that?” he asked, lifting his head more to see the bowl in your hands. “It’s an old trick,” you replied. “I’ll show you,” you added as you started for your room, stopping to look back at him.

“Bring the fans.”

Jihoon followed you, carrying the two tower fans with him to your room. You set up a stool from your vanity with the bowl on it near the bed before setting the fans up behind it, facing the fans towards the bowel and turning them on high. “Lay down.” you instructed. Jihoon climbed onto your bed, laying across it. You joined him and smiled as he sighed.

“The fan blows across the cool air that settles on the surface of the ice water and blows it out. It’s something we used to do when I was a kid. We didn’t have AC when I was growing up,” you explained. “It’s really nice,” he murmured.

The two of you lay there in silence, eyes shut as you enjoyed the cool air. Jihoon soon started to squirm and you opened your eyes, turning your head to look at him. “What’s wrong?” you asked. He sighed and turned to look at you. “It’s nice, don’t get me wrong,” he said softly. “But it’s not enough.”

You glanced at the bowl of ice and then back to Jihoon before an idea popped into your head. “Wait here,” you said as you got up, walking into your bathroom and returning with a towel. Jihoon watched as you placed the towel down on your bed. “Lay on the towel,” you instructed. He got up with a groan and started to move as you walked around to where the bowl of ice sat. 

“And take your shirt off.”

Jihoon froze, turning his gaze to look at you as you pulled the stool closer to the bed. “Take my shirt off?” he asked, watching you with wide eyes. You nodded. “Trust me,” you said as you sat on the edge of the bed, the stool with the bowl of ice between your thighs. Jihoon hesitated before slipping his shirt off and setting it aside. “Lay down,” you told him. He did as you said, laying on his back.

You dipped your hand into the bowl, scooping up one of the ice cubes and turned to Jihoon, placing it against his skin. He let out a gasp which turned quickly into a sigh. “Feel better?” you asked. He nodded wordlessly, licking his lips as you started to run the ice all over his chest, first across his collar bones and then down his sternum to his stomach.

You could see the beads of water rolling down his skin to the towel under him. The ice cube melted pretty quickly and you soon grabbed another, sliding it over his skin, up to his neck, letting it pool slightly before running it along his shoulders until it too melted. You continued this, going through a few ice cubes. “How do you feel?” you asked as you grabbed a smaller cube, popping it into your mouth.

“G-good,” Jihoon said, swallowing thickly. As you grabbed another ice cube, you noticed the slight bulge in his pants. Raising a brow, you turned back to look at his face. “Someone’s getting a little excited,” you said with a hint of amusement. Jihoon’s eyes opened and he glanced down, quickly covering himself with his hands. “S-sorry,” he muttered.

You smiled slyly. “Don’t be,” you said simply as you brushed another frozen cube over his skin, paying special attention to his chest, dragging the ice around one nipple before moving to the other. He let out a soft groan, eyes fluttering shut as you continued to tease him with the frozen water. “Y/N,” he moaned softly as you pressed the ice against his skin, placing your palm over it and sliding it around, drops of water rolling down his skin as you guided your hand lower and lower until the ice was gone.

You grabbed another cub, pressing against his stomach with your hand, sliding lower and lower until your fingers worked under the waistband of his shorts. Jihoon’s eyes snapped open and he met your gaze. “Do you want me to stop?” you asked softly. He shook his head, holding your gaze.

Without taking your eyes off him, you slipped your hand into his shorts, finding him completely without underwear as you guided the ice down his groin. Jihoon let out a groan as your hand pushed the ice down to his cock, finding it already completely hard. “S-sorry about this,” Jihoon whispered as you let the ice melt at the base of his cock. “Don’t apologize,” you said as you grabbed another ice cube with your free hand, popping it into your mouth again.

You pulled your hand out, sticking your hand into the ice water for a few seconds before pulling it out and slipped your hand back into his shorts, your cold hand wrapping around the shaft of his cock. Jihoon groaned, hips bucking slightly. “What?” you asked, sounding slightly condescending. “Does that feel good?” you cooed. Jihoon nodded, biting into his bottom lip as your hand started to stroke him slowly.

You grabbed another ice cube, popping it into your mouth and climbed onto the bed, moving to kneel beside him. “What’re you doing?” Jihoon asked as you grabbed the waistband of his shorts and tugged them down. This was crossing so many lines but at this point, neither you nor Jihoon could be bothered to care. He lifted his hips as you tugged his shorts down, freeing his cock.

You wrapped your hands around him again. You glanced up at him before taking his cock into your mouth. The ice had melted already but your tongue had a lingering coolness to it and it made Jihoon groan as his head fell back, your head sinking down as you took more and more of his cock into your mouth. “Fuck, baby,” he gasped, his hand resting on the back of your head.

“Feels so good.”

You pulled back, letting his cock fall from your mouth. You moved to grab another ice cube, popping it into your mouth under your tongue before taking Jihoons cock back into your mouth. He let out a guttural moan as your head bobbed, your cold spit dribbling down his shaft. “F-ah. Holy shit!” he groaned as your tongue shifted, the ice under it slipping out and pressing against his cock.

Jihoon bucked his hips, thrusting up into your mouth and hitting the back of your mouth. “Don’t stop, god please don’t stop,” he groaned as you pulled off him, grabbing another ice cube before taking him back into your mouth. You slid the ice over his abdomen, enjoying the way his muscles twitched. You glided the ice down past his cock, pressing it to the base of the underside of his cock, beads of cold water rolling down past his balls.

He bucked again, his cock making you gagged but you made no attempt to move back instead letting him set a steady pace, thrusting shallowly into your mouth while you let the ice trail over his skin. “F-fucking hell. M’gonna cum if you keep doing that!” he gasped. You pulled back, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock as you let the ice finish melting.

“You wanna cum in my mouth or inside me?” you asked, your voice low and seductive. “Inside you, please,” he begged, his hand moving to the back of your neck. “C’mere,” he added as he pulled you towards him. You crawled over him, letting your tongue run up his stomach and chest before he pulled you into a sloppy kiss.

You pulled back, tugging your shirt off over your head and then shimmying out of your shorts and underwear. You grabbed two more ice cubes, popping one into your mouth as you straddled his lap. Jihoon grabbed his cock, lining it up with your slit as you hovered over him. “Wait shouldn’t I — oh fuck!” he gasped as you lowered yourself down onto his cock, sinking it into your cunt.

Once his cock was nestled inside your walls, you pressed the other ice cube against his chest. His hands moved to your hips, eyes rolling back as you started to move slowly, rolling your hips as you glided the ice over his skin. “Oh fuck that feels so good,” he groaned, hips bucking slightly as you rode him at your own pace.

You leaned over to grab another cube, popping it into your mouth and letting it melt on your tongue. Once it was gone, you leaned over, hips continued to roll as you grinded against Jihoon. His cock throbbed and twitched inside you as he matched your movements, thrusting up into you.

“Open your mouth,” you whispered, grabbing him by the jaw. He hesitated before obliging, parting his lips. You surprised him by spitting into his mouth quickly before kissing him roughly. It was much different than he was used to but with all the ice cubes you had let melt into your mouth, he would let you do anything if it meant you’d keep using the ice cubes.

His grip on your hips tightened, nails digging into your skin. “M’close,” he groaned against your lips. You grabbed another cube from the bowl, most of it water by this point. “Open your mouth,” you whispered, pushing the cube past his lips when he parted them. Your lips met his, tongue slipping into his mouth, making the ice cube swirl around his mouth.

You change the roll of your hips for lifting them, bouncing on his cock and driving you both towards the edge. “M’gonna cum,” he groaned against your lips. “Do it,” you urged. “Cum inside me.” Jihoon devolved into a series of curses, moans, and whimpers as he chased his high, hips rutting up to meet yours as he tumbled over the edge, his cum releasing into your walls until it started to spill out of you.

Your walls spasmed around him as you came, moaning against his lips as your hips started to falter. Jihoon held you in place as he thrusted up into you, riding out both your highs until he finally stilled, letting you sink down on his spent cock, his cum dripping out of your abused hole.

You let out a sigh, collapsing onto his chest as you tried to steady your breathing. Jihoon’s hand rested on your back, fingers trailing up and down your spine as he stared up at the ceiling. “That was…” you trailed off, searching for the right word. “Incredible,” Jihoon finished your sentence. “That was fucking incredible.”

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze, a smile spread across your face before you both broke into laughter. Your laughter lasted a few minutes as the reality of your situation settled on you.

“So,” Jihoon said, moving a hand to the back of your neck. “Where does this leave us?” he asked. You shrugged. “Where do you want it to leave us?” you responded with your own question. Jihoon’s other hand moved to cup your cheek, eyes dipping to your lips as he brushed over them with his thumb. “I kind of want to make this a regular thing,” he muttered. “Especially if we include the ice.”

You pressed a chaste kiss to the bad of his thumb. “Well,” you replied, pushing his hand back and leaning in to kiss his lips. “The AC won’t be fixed until tomorrow,” you reminded him as you reached up to brush his hair back off his forehead. “So we have the rest of the day.” 

A smile spread across Jihoon’s face. “You want to go again?” he asked. You nodded as you pushed yourself up. “Can you grab a new towel?” you asked as you climbed off him and off the bed entirely. “Where are you going?” he asked as he sat up, watching you grab the bowl from the stool. You turned to look at him as you moved towards the door.

“We need more ice.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part nine

summary: may the odds be ever in your favour.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this is the teaaaa guys,, also should i post the playlist tn?? i feel like its almost ready 0.0

series masterlist // playlist

"You should go home. You can't save her by just hoping she comes out of her little tunnels again..." Coryo turns his head at the Dean's voice on his left. "She could be dead in there. You wouldn't know."

Your friend sighs, rolling his eyes and redirecting them to the screen ahead. Just in case.

"What are you reading?" He points to the open book on Coryo's desk in front of him as the boy quickly closes it, pulling it down onto his lap.

"Just a book." He mumbles.

The Dean gets closer, leaning over to read the cover as Coryo flips it over. "Just a book?" He probes it more, raising an eyebrow at him. "The very same one your poet was reading in all the live feeds of the zoo over the last few days. That's sweet."

"It's interesting. That's all. She asked for it, I wanted to know why." Coryo brushes it off, holding the paper tighter in his grip.

"What do you want from that girl?" He asks, leaning against the empty desk next to him.

"Nothing." Coryo insists. "I want her to live."

Dean Highbottom hums, giving a slight nod. "And the Plinth Prize would be a happy coincidence, I suppose."

Coriolanus smiles bitterly, thinking over what his best response would be. "I believe I'd be entitled to it."

"Of course you do." The Dean nods, flashing him a fake smile of encouragement. "Of course you do. The prize, the girl. Hm. How convenient you don't have to choose between them."

Coryo tucks the book under his leg at the statement, choosing not to grace his superior with any kind of response.

"Who do you think makes that final decision for the prize you so covet, Mister Snow? Wake up. Even if she somehow wins it all, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you don't see a dime." Dean Highbottom spits, looking up at the screen as well as Coryo slowly looks over at him. "So, ask yourself, how much do you care if she wins now?"

Coryo listens to the man's footsteps as he walks away, pretending to focus on the screen again. If he truly had no shot at the prize, would it be best for him to go home now and sleep like many of his classmates already had? Should he even bother to watch the cameras hoping that you'll reappear in the dark arena at some point tonight? Should he even come back? Of course he would. He couldn't live with the idea of you coming out, in desperate need of something only he could give you, food or water, and knowing that at some point you would realize he had lied to you. That he wasn't with you anymore. He would have to watch your heartbreak in holiday reruns for the rest of his life. Even if you died in that arena all alone, would you realize that he didn't care about you at the end? He couldn't take the idea of it.

As he returns to the book that he's pulled back onto his lap, he hopes you still remember.

It's another slow hour before you show your face again, slowly, carefully opening the vent across the arena as the motion cameras pick up on it, allowing Coryo to watch the closest one to you. It's a moment before he looks up, entranced in your book when he sees the movement in his peripheral vision. He was the only one there, now, and he knew it likely wasn't you that the cameras picked up so it took him a moment to even tear his eyes away from the desk, slotting the dried-up flower between the pages. When he does see it's you, he sits up quickly. Watching, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it didn't come, there was no one else. It's just you.

Your eyes scan the arena in search of the nearest camera after seeing that there are no other tributes out in the clearing besides Lamina, where you left her on the beam. You crawl out, leaving the vent open behind you for a quick retreat. You find the camera, looking into it. You were covered in dirt head to toe, but even through that Coryo could see it when you tried to communicate with your gaze. With him.

You give a small wave to the camera, eyes flitting up with the sound of birds in the crumbled rafters above you.

He wasn't sure what you wanted, but he was grateful you listened. Tapping through his communicuff, he quickly finds water and hits send. Hopefully, it makes it to you instead of breaking like Lamina's did.

You stand up in front of the vent, stretching out your limbs from being curled up and crawling around in the vent system for so long. You wanted to explore as much of it as you could, but it was hot in there, and you desperately needed water so you could clear out the dust in your throat.

A smile falls onto your face briefly as you see the drone come in, carrying your water bottle. Coryo. He is watching. You hold your hand out, prepared to try and catch it before it crashes loudly into the stands just behind you. From watching what happened with Lamina's, you know you have to be careful. The blades aren't well covered, and they come flying in fast. Straight toward you. When it gets too close you bail, ducking down as the fast-moving drone flies straight past you and into the vent. You cringe at the loud banging that follows, echoing throughout the arena due to your beloved vent system. You stay hidden for a moment, making sure no one is coming after you before standing up and looking around. Satisfied that no one was coming besides Lamina who just stirred on her beam, you held your finger up toward the camera, signaling for Coryo to wait as you crawled back in.

He chews on the inside of his cheek as he waits, relieved when you emerge a minute or so later with an unbroken bottle in your hand as you kneel on the ground in front of the opening. You hold it up, shooting the camera a small smile before opening it and taking a sip. Or, you intended to, but you were so thirsty you downed almost the whole thing in one go.

You wipe your chin, take a deep breath, and close your eyes. It felt so good. Coryo is watching you intently. You don't look cold, which is good. Maybe even a little sweaty, if the hair that's clinging to your forehead is proof of that. You're probably hungry. And with that, he's sending you an apple. If you weren't hungry, it wasn't a lot to eat, but if you were, he would be able to tell by how you ate it.

You hear the distant whir of another drone, quickly standing up and stepping away from the vent. You want to avoid that loud echoing as much as you can. You brace yourself and duck beneath the seat in front of you, hiding behind the railing so it wouldn't hit you.

It crashes into the front of the stands, and you can hear it falling down onto the floor. You stand up slowly, looking over the edge. You were so hungry, now that you saw the apple there, that you hopped down over the side and walked along the edge of the railing before sliding down where it was safest. You watch your steps as you make your way over to the broken drone and the battered apple that was attached to it.

You scan the ground, looking for that delicious flash of red which you pick out quickly. You pick it up and wipe it off on your dress, taking a bite before you're even fully stood up again. You could moan just at the taste of it. You had missed fruit so much- occasionally Coryo and Sejanus had brought you some in the zoo, but now it was something else entirely. Every bite could be your last, and you try to enjoy it as best you can.

You track the arena again from the floor, looking around again for the nearest camera. You turn when you see it's pretty much directly above your head. You wave again, giving Coryo a grateful smile, weakened by the stress of the day's events, and by your inevitable death. Nevertheless, you tried to keep on a brave face; you didn't want him to view you as careless or ungrateful. "Thank you." You say, unsure if there is even a microphone.

You tilt your head at the camera, confusing him as you squint. "Can you hear me?" You ask and he nods, alone in the large room.

"I can hear you." He whispers back to the open air, watching as you swiftly turn around, facing away from the camera.

"If you can hear me, send..." You think about it. What is something they would definitely have available but obscure enough that you would know he heard you? "Send in something odd. Something you're surprised is even an option."

He flicks through the pages and pages of options, unsure what to pick. Bread was too basic, no apples, water, no. Milk? That's weird, and gross. It's perfect. He hits send and watches as you eat your apple, looking up at the opening at the top waiting for something else to come.

You smile as you see it coming in, looking back at the camera briefly before bracing yourself to dodge the flying gift. You wait until the last second, jumping out of the way as it smashes into the wall behind you, the bottle shattering and spraying the surface in milk. Coryo cringes just at the sight of it as you turn and look.

You scrunch up your nose and get closer, running your finger through the dripping liquid to try and identify it. "Milk?" You ask, looking up at the camera.

He smiles to match yours as it grows on your face and you start to laugh quietly. "That is odd, indeed." You giggle, shaking your head. "Well, thank you, dear Coryo. At least I shall have someone to talk to." You take another bite out of the apple in your hand.

"I hope you had a good day." You hum, covering your mouth as you chew. "But you should be getting home soon. I think it is late."

It's so you to be so caring, even finding yourself within the games you're still worried about him. He smiles to himself, shaking his head. He continues to click through the communicuff in the silence that follows, just to get a better idea of all your options, when he finds something better.

Finally, the keyboard makes sense. He quickly types the note out to you and hits send. It's pricey to send a note, putting a dent in your donations, but you had so many it wasn't really a concern at this point. After all, he was your mentor. It only made sense that he would kind of be able to communicate with you.

You perk your head up at the sound of another drone, ready to play this game again. You dodge it more smoothly this time, with a spin that puts a smile on your mentor's face before picking up the small container clipped on the bottom of the drone and prying it open.

You smile when you see it's just a piece of paper. "I'm not leaving. -C"  You read, looking up at the camera.

"Well then," You grin. "Let's talk! It is not day."

He remembers that one. You've said that one to him before- you said it was Romeo and Juliet. He's actually sure he just read it. If the book belonged to him, he would be highlighting and annotating every line you have recited to him over the last couple weeks just like he does in his textbooks.

"That's Romeo and Juliet, if you remember." You remind him, assuming that he wouldn't know it yet. Even if he had started reading it, which he shouldn't have considering you know he's been busy, it was unlikely he'd get that far in under a day. You didn't know that he was inhaling every word on the page in the moments you were off-screen, devouring every blank verse as if it were sacred. To you, and now to him, it almost was. 

You look around as you chew on your apple, stopping when you look at Marcus again. You sigh, sadly, seeing the birds now crowding his body as you quickly begin to make your way over. Lamina sits up as you approach, looking over the edge of the beam. "Just me." You whisper, reassuring her before you shoo the birds away as she lays back down.

You crouch down next to the boy, gently rolling him onto his back. You hadn't the chance earlier, too rushed by the daylight to get back into hiding, but now was as good a time as any. You gently cross his arms over his chest and close his eyes.

You sit back, carefully adjusting his clothes before getting up, as satisfied as you could be with the makeshift burial.

You take a few steps back, retreating quietly to the edge of the arena to get back to your vent. You climb up into the stands just as you hear another drone coming, quickly climbing the stairs so it doesn't fall back down into the ring. You grab it when it's settled, smiling to yourself when you see it's another note.

"No cameras in the vents. Only come out if you need anything. -C"

"Thank you, Coryo." You whisper, looking up at the camera and nodding before retreating inside, closing the fan quietly behind you.

You curl up just past the entrance to the vent, hoping to get some sleep near the fresh air. The exhaustion kicks in quickly after you eat the entire core of the apple, knocking you out in the darkness of the tunnel.

When you wake, it's still dark. You sit up quickly, realizing where you are. Rubbing your eyes, you look out of the vent to see the source of the sound that woke you. You quickly spot a figure kneeling over Marcus's body, blinking to try and see who it is through the sleep still in your eyes.

You should stay hidden, you know that, but from behind at least, it doesn't look like another tribute.

"Sejanus?" You whisper, the vast space carrying your voice to his ears and he quickly turns. You were lucky it was him, but you were able to make a quick escape if it turned out to be someone else. "Sejanus, it's just me." You continue, and as you ease yourself down the debris piled up against the wall he just turns back to Marcus.

You take careful, nearly silent steps as you walk up behind him. "Sejanus?" You say again, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He shakes his head slightly, looking up at you. Tears filled his eyes and stained his cheeks, and you very quickly felt the tears building up in your own eyes as well. "Oh..." You quickly kneel down next to him, pulling him into a hug which he gratefully accepts. "Oh, Sejanus I'm so sorry... I wanted to save him, I did..." You choke on every word as you apologize.

"It's not fair." He sniffs, shaking his head gently under your grip as you soothingly rub the back of his head.

"I know... He didn't deserve that." You agree, ignoring the tears dripping down to your jaw and tickling your skin. "But I want you to know I told him how loved he is, and how sorry we all are. He knew. In his final moments, he knew..."

He tenses under your hold. "It... it was you?" He mutters, pulling away.

"No! No, I-" You quickly defend yourself, head shaking as your arms drop from around him and he looks over at you, understated anger beginning to shine through. "Sejanus, I didn't..."

Any trust he had in you was seemingly gone at that moment. You were worried you flipped a switch you couldn't unturn, that any relationship you had built with the boy had died and been replaced with the thought that maybe you were no better than the game makers themselves. Marcus was defenseless, and it felt like Sejanus thought you took advantage of that.

Your thought process proved to be correct. "He was defenseless! Innocent!" You could tell he would shout if you weren't both so worried about staying quiet. His anger quickly reverted back to hurt. "How could you?"

"I promise, it's not what it sounds like-" You try to correct him, to get him to forgive you as your chest constricts around your lungs. One of the two friends you made in your final days; gone. Just like that.

"Hey!" Another voice startles the both of you, already just a few feet away. You didn't realize how vulnerable you were while you were fighting to prove yourself. You scramble to get up, standing just in front of Sejanus as he knelt on the ground, making no attempts to move. "Y/N. Get out of here." Coryo instructs you, still in his academy uniform.

"Coryo, I-"

"Go hide. Now. It's not safe for you out here." He insists, eyes cold and serious.

"No, not until-"

"I said go. I can't be talking to you, we'll both be punished. Go."

God, he wanted to talk to you. He wanted to do more than talk to you. He wanted to hug you for the first time unimpeded, to grab your hand and pull you outside to where you would be safe, but he knew that neither was an option. You're safer in the vent than you would be in the hands of Dr. Gaul after he was seen talking to you, that's for sure.

He has to bite his tongue to keep from asking you to stay while you scurry off to do as he said and climb back into the vent, his mother's scarf still tied securely around your waist. He hated that this could possibly be the last time you saw him, but he had no choice.

"Sejanus, let's go." He whispers to his friend, once he is satisfied that you are really going.

"She killed him..." He mumbles in response.

"She didn't kill him." Coryo quickly corrects him.

"She said-"

"He begged for their help, and she held his hand while she," He points up the beam where a now sleeping Lamina lay quietly, "did it. Now let's get out of here."

He urges him on and Sejanus looks up at him. "He asked them to." Coryo hisses to iterate his point. "Y/N couldn't do it even then."

Sejanus looks up to the vent just as the door creaks closed behind you. "I just wanted to help..." He says softly, eyes watering.

"If you want to help, the best thing you can do is come with me."

"No, I had to be where the cameras are, I need to show them-"

"Do you think anyone is watching this?" Coryo asks as his friend finally stands up. He was making progress, but slowly. This needed to move faster. "Gaul cut the feed. Come with me now, or-"

"But you said-"

"You can't help them if you die in here and become another body in Gaul's war." Coryo cuts him off. There was very little time for arguments, and that timer was rapidly ticking down. "Go home, spend your father's money, do some real good. And don't blame her. She's just as innocent as Marcus was and you know that. Who do you think shut his eyes? Posed him like that? She sobbed for an entire hour after holding his hand while he died!"

Sejanus is speechless, staring down at his tribute's body.

"I watched it all! She's alone in here. She has no one!" He whispers in his ear. "We are all she has. Me and you on the outside, and if you want to help that girl and all the tributes after her, we have to go right now or neither of us will see the light of day again and she will starve and die truly alone. Please, Sejanus. You're her friend... My friend. Come with me."

Sejanus looks at him, the two boys just inches apart as he nods with a resigning sigh. "Okay." He whispers.

Coryo sighs in relief. "Thank you, come-" He starts to turn back when they both are scared by the sound of footsteps sprinting toward them. "Come on!" He shouts, grabbing his classmate's sleeve and dragging him behind as they make for the red lighting of the exit.

You watch from the slits in the fan, hands perched on the blade as you lean against it to get a better view. Your heart is racing as you watch Coryo and Sejanus book it for the exit. God, you hope they make it.

They almost do.

Until Sejanus trips over the turnstile you know and hate, crying out in pain upon hitting the ground. Immediately, you're pushing the door open loudly and running along the railing, hoping to get closer to the exit without running the risk of cutting through the middle of the arena. "Coryo! Run!" You yell helplessly, careless of whether or not you'll be heard or seen by others. All you wanted was to create a distraction. To save him.

But he doesn't run, even as you see him stumble back in the red lighting of the tunnel, hissing when Bobbin's blade strikes him somewhere. "Coryo!" You cry out again, more out of fear. Was it serious? Was he already in the process of bleeding out?

You quickly hop the railing abandoning your safety, sliding down the concrete and stumbling upon hitting the ground. "I don't want to hurt you!" You hear his voice again as you run into full view of the tunnel, still about twenty feet away.

Just in time to see Bobbin fall back between the metal gate, landing a good ways away.

"Enjoy the show!"

You flinch when your friend steps out after him, chest rising and falling heavily as he stares down at the boy's body. Silent, unmoving, dead.

Then he brings the club down on him again.

[homocidalpotat]

Intro post under the cut!

Please read it though, I sorted it out so it should be very simple to read :3

Basic introduction

This post is probably on the boring side, and quite lengthy but if you can be bothered to read it I would really appreciate it.

URL stuff: Link! (in case my url offends/confuses you)

Name: Jasper

Gender: Alexigender/genderqueer/genderfluid/non-binary, whatever, I don't massively care lol

Pronouns: They/them mostly but I'm happy anything other than she/her

Theriotypes (yeah, I'm a therian/otherhearted!): Bats, foxes, Burmese mountain dogs, moths

MBTI and Zodiac: INTJ, Scorpio (I don't believe in zodiac sign meanings or anything but if you want to know, here!)

Other blogs/sideblogs: link

DNI

Discriminators, racists, homophobes, aphobes, transphobes, sexists, terfs, nazis, radfems, radqueers, anti-endos, antifurs, anti therians, proshippers, pedophiles, rapists, haters, donation blogs

I am a minor, so don't tag or show me anything that might not be appropriate. Literally anything NSFW. Anything 18+. Anything sexual at all (plus, I'm sex-repulsed) is a really big no.

Please don't harass me- with spam, in my DMs/askbox; about ANYTHING. If you have a problem with something I say or do, just talk to me calmly? It's not the end of the world if you don't like my posts. Block me if you want, I don't really care.

For mutuals and other people that tag me- PLEASE DON'T TAG ME IN STUFF ABOUT BAD MENTAL HEALTH!!! This includes trauma dump chains.

Donations/gofundmes

As I'm a minor with no money I can't donate to any funds for anything or anyone. I might not reblog donation posts if there are triggering subjects on it, but if I feel able to, I will. Please don't send me asks/DMs for donations/help, here is why I have said this . I mean any asks, no matter your situation or nationality. I'm not doing favouritism.

Link to Daily Clicks for Palestine: here

I made a petition for perfume use in schools here, please sign it! Here's the post about it.

Queer stuff

I'm asexual and sex repulsed. I am also genderqueer/genderfluid/alexigender, so I don't mind what terminology or pronouns you use on me but I prefer more neutral ones. I don't know how to label my sexuality but I'm just calling it queer. I'm in a loving, long-term romantic relationship with the wonderful @names-confuse-me (they're called Erin and he's awesome!).

I will always respect your pronouns and identity and I am a safe person to speak to about this (and most other things). If I don't know your pronouns I will use they/them until I find out. Sometimes I don't fully understand an identity but I will always respect and acknowledge it!

Queer dictionary (genuinely a lifesaver): Link!!! And here's the link to the post I made about it!

Mental Health stuff

I am officially diagnosed with autism, and I might have OCD. My parents think I have ADHD, as well as probably synthensia. But in short I am neurodivergent, so would really appreciate a safe environment for me, if you can provide it!

I also have vivid hallucinations, panic attacks, I self harm, etc. I have a vent blog so I won't mention it here, and I always use trigger warnings. This shouldn't be an issue but if you really dont want to see that stuff, don't follow me probably.

Sometimes people tag/dm/ask/reblog something to me and I don't respond. I'm not ghosting you, I don't hate you, you haven't done anything wrong. I am a depressed teenager with strict parents and little-to-no motivation half the time. Sorry if this bothers you but I just can't sometimes.

Please don't purposefully harass or upset me. You will be blocked and reported.

Here is a post I made about my boundaries for people coming to vent to me: link

Note about my content

Everything I say is gender neutral (e.g. dude, bro, girlie) but I will always use your preferred pronouns and be as affirming for you as possible. If you aren't okay with me referring to you with gendered words that you don't like, even ironically, just shout! I won't be upset and I will stop straight away

Everything is platonic as well. I might say things like "I love you" or a silly, sappy thing but it is completely platonic. Again, if you don't like that, I can very easily stop. I do say romantic things to Erin, but you can avoid that with a tag I mention just below this!

Sometimes I might post something rash, rude or wrong without realising. Please call me out on this sort of thing, and I'd really appreciate it if you do so calmly. I am neurodivergent, which might excuse me for posting something like that, but it won't justify it.

This blog is pretty much entirely SFW. I don't often reblog things that are NSFW (depending on your definition of NSFW, I might never have), but if I think something is even slightly inappropriate or triggering, I will tag it <3

My tags, that I will try to use (but often forget to):

Original posts: jasper did a thing

Reblogs: jasper saw a thing

Conversational reblogs: jasper is doing the speech

Asks: jasper spreads their limited wisdom

Being romantic with my partner: channel simp

What I post/interests

Stuff I like: Nature (yes! all of it... except most molluscs), music, being whimsical, understanding the world around me, being gay (and doing crimes), making other people feel happy, my dog and two rabbits, being creative, dinosaurs, geology, going exploring anywhere, big long walks, my partner, gaming, binge watching, making friends, i-will-add-to-this-list-when-i-can-think-of-stuff

Media I interact with: Legend of Zelda (specifically TOTK, BOTW and Skyward Sword), Good Omens, Our Flag Means Death, Jurassic Park/World, the Hunger Games and the Owl House, the Lord of the Rings, Gravity Falls, She-Ra, Brooklyn 99, the Good Place, Heartstopper, Doctor Who, What We Do In The Shadows, Portal, Delicious in Dungeon, Green Day, Dead Boy Detectives

Ships I interact with: Ineffable Spouses (Good Omens), Sidlink (TOTK/BOTW), Johnlock (BBC Sherlock) and BlackBonnet (OFMD), Lumity (TOH), Raeda (TOH), a bunch of other TOH ships, Farcille (DID), Kabru (DID), Payneland (DBD)

I don't always post a huge amount of some of these fandoms/ships/media, so if you plan on following me for them, maybe just have a snoop around my account for a bit first. You might find that I hardly ever interact with the content. Maybe if you prompt me to I will. The lists don't necessarily include everything I like because I don't have that memory.

On this blog you can expect posts/reblogs about the fandoms in, memes, shitposts, and just a friendly face to chat to. I love asks! I'm always happy to receive one (PLEASE send me asks I'm lonely).

Mutuals

I will add your username to a Google Sheets, where I list whether or not I can tag you in certain things. If you haven't checked it out already, please respond to this post, mutuals! It's purely for your benefit! I will try and update the document every time I get a new mutual but I don't always remember.

I hope I can add some more amazing tumblrinas to my list! The community here is delightful <33

Credits

My header image is from Pinterest images that I put together and I made my profile picture. Credit to @visceracture and @zack-agere for making the dividers in this post. Thank you!

[strawberrypillz0]

// mentally ill ryo / jirai here (i say Ryo as I don’t have BPD but am mentally ill).

You really need to quit w/ the gatekeeping of the term as it falls on a spectrum. I believe jirai is a term that can be flexible and it’s weird to be so… anal about how it’s used. Modifiers such as fashion / lifestyle jirai exist. This community’s urge to gatekeep and romanticize self harm is fucking crazy and why I don’t publicly associate w jirai bc I actually want to get better.

TL;dr like any other word of the language it can be used flexibly with modifiers.

You will live😚

Anyways, I’m using terms like lifestyle/fashion jirais and everyone does so why are you crying rn.

Romanticising your mental illnesses overall isn’t a good thing, there is nothing cute and nice about being mentally unstable.. but I will hold your hand when I will say it - it’s a coping mechanism 😱 I was always pro recovery and me saying “why do you guys want to be associated with people who are mentally unstable so bad? Yall should be happy that you don’t need to” is basically saying that I would rather call myself Ryo and be mentally stable than be pissed that I can’t call myself a LANDMINE (which is basically a word that is supposed to insult mentally unstable (mostly) women). Nobody want to be mentally unstable, no matter in what cute paper you will wrap it, I always hope everyone will get better and don’t associate myself with anti recovery people cuz they are bunch of weirdos who I don’t they are even mentally unstable, just edgy kids who think wanting to kill yourself/SH is so cool and they are so different.

There is nothing wrong that people want to protect their community where they find a comfort and they are not scared of being judged, there is so many fashion jirais complaining about jirais venting etc under tags. I said before that I don’t mind people wearing jirai as a style as long as they are respecting actual jirais (lifestyle) and don’t call them weirdos and shit. Yes, I said that a good alternative would be to call yourself ryousangata cuz this is what basically “fashion jirai” is - and is there anything wrong with wanting wear cute trendy clothes? Absolutely not, so why is it seem as something bad when I suggested it?

You don’t need to be associated with jirais, nobody care actually. I’m glad you want to get better - so me and other people who probably ask themselves everyday why they need to go thru it, why they can’t be healthy.. just because someone is trying to cope it doesn’t mean they don’t want to get better. I wake up everyday and ask myself why, how long and if I will ever be free from this - just because I will add funny image later it doesn’t mean that I absolutely hate being mentally ill and would do anything to get rid of it, my blog is just a little safe space where I can express it thru posting whatever I want to make myself feel better or people who go thru the same thing. I often go thru jirai tag and reply to people who struggle, cuz I wish they will get better.

Anyways, I hope everyone will have a good day today and remember to take care of yourself 💖 I’m really grateful to be a part of such an amazing community :)))

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 1,060

Picture NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (Roughly) - 12 minutes

This one was actually a request, which I don't typically do, but sometimes I simply can't resist!

Tag(s) - @rishdrago

With a tired sigh (Y/n) sat the last of her groceries onto the counter in her kitchen. It was another long day at work, with another grueling case coming to a close. While she loves her job, sometimes it really takes a toll on her. But now at home all she needs to worry about is putting away her groceries, and making a quick dinner. Easy enough. If it wasn't for the sound of a floorboard creaking in the hallway that set her into fight or flight mode.

Spinning on her heel in an instant, she unholstered her pistol and aimed at the doorway to the hallway. "You really messed up you know, but if you know what's good for you, you'll come into the light nice and slow. Otherwise you're gonna leave my house in an ambulance, or a body bag." (Y/n) called out to the would be intruder, bracing herself for a potential firefight. But when the intruder rounded the corner, and came into sight, she nearly dropped her gun. "Frank?" She breathed out in a whisper, her arms falling to her sides. "Frank's dead." He muttered mournfully. "You look pretty fucking alive to me." She sassed as she holstered her pistol, knowing deep down that she could still trust Frank with her life.

The behemoth of a man simply shrugged his shoulders, taking a small first step into the room, as if he was testing the water. "What are you doing here?" She asked turning back to her groceries, while letting him come into the room at his own pace. "I killed Gianni Franco." He stated as he walked up to the other side of the counter, leaving the space between them to prove he meant her no harm. "Trust me Frank, I am well aware of that. You do realize I'm still a detective right? And I'm still friends with Jake you know, so I'm the one he goes to, to vent about you." She glanced his way, trying to get a read of his reaction to her words.

He seemed unbothered, which really didn't surprise her. "I'm sorry." Now that surprised her. Setting the box of noodles down, she turned her full attention to Frank. "Why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one you should apologize to." She pointed out, but Frank didn't seem bothered, as he casually scratched at the scruff on his face. "Frank why are you here?" She asked now standing across from him at the counter, looking into his eyes which once swirled with so much life. "I don't know... I'm not exactly sure what to do now." He admitted.

"Jake would tell you to turn yourself in." (Y/n) mused with a small smile, her words making him chuckle softly under his breath, a sound she had missed more than she ever realized until now. "That's why I came to you." He admitted, now leaning against the counter. "I knew you wouldn't arrest me on the spot like Jake, and I could just talk to you." Frank admitted with a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Well that's where me and Jake are different, I actually believe you're doing the world good by killing those guys. People like that have to much money and power for us to touch, and we could use a vigilante to even out the odds." She hummed as she grabbed a beer from the fridge, sliding it across the counter to Frank, who took it with a small mutter of thanks. "I knew you'd feel that way." He said before sipping his beer. "Then why didn't you come to me sooner?" She asked as she leaned again the counter.

"Because I don't want you trying to join me." He stated matter-of-factly, making (Y/n) chuckle softly. "That's fair I guess, but what's changed? Why come to me now?" She pried, hoping he would open up to her. "I had a dream about you last night." His words stuck a cord in (Y/n)'s heart, one she didn't realize was still there until now. "A dream?" She played off her nerves like a natural, making her glad she was trained to hide her true emotions, in order to effectively interrogate suspects.

"It started as a nightmare, I was reliving their deaths." She knew he was referring to his family, so she didn't pry for clarification, knowing it only hurt him to talk about them. "But before I could wake up, you appeared from the shadows. You didn't say anything, you just..." He trailed off as he stared at his beer. "You just pulled me into a hug, and held me while I cried for them." (Y/n)'s heart broke at his admittance, she knew he hated showing vulnerably before he lost his family, let alone now that he's The Punisher.

"It made me realize how much I've missed you, and I also realized I can't keep doing this alone, I can't keep being alone." He looked up to her, his eyes ever so glossy. "I know Julie would want me to move on, to come to terms with what happened. But I couldn't do that while the Franco's were still alive and free." He sipped his beer. "But now... Now I need help getting through this, and you're the only one that can help me (Y/n)." Frank wanted to hold her hand as he spoke, but he resisted the urge.

"I'll always be here for you Frank." She assured him, her words pulling a genuine smile from him. "How about I make us some dinner, and we can figure out where to go from there." She offered, smiling when he nodded in agreement. "You should stay here tonight, get a shower and have some normalcy for a change." She added. "Are you trying to say I smell bad?" He asked with a playful smirk.

"Frank dear I've been holding my breath this entire time." (Y/n) joked, making him roll his eyes, despite his smile. "Still a smartass I see." He huffed. "You wouldn't have it any other way." She sassed before pointing to the hallway. "You still remember where the guestroom is." She added, smiling when he nodded and walked off to take a shower while she cooked dinner.

"Well what are you planning on doing now that you've dealt with the Franco family?" (Y/n) asked before she finished off the last bite of her dinner. "There are still people who are not punished by the justice system." Frank stated having finished his dinner long before she had. "Are you planning on doing to them what you did to the Franco's?" She asked. "Only to those who deserve it." Frank clarified, setting (Y/n)'s mind at ease.

"I'm glad you've come to me Frank, but I'm unbelievably exhausted, and I need to get some sleep." She rose from her seat, picking up her plate, and moving to grab his. Frank took her plate, and grabbed his own. "I'll deal with the dishes, go to bed, we can talk more in the morning." He insisted. "Okay thank you." She leaned over and pecked his temple like she used to as a quick thanks. "Oh and I forgot to ask, you didn't break any windows to get in did you?" She asked.

"No don't worry, I just picked the lock on the back door." He shrugged casually. "You still have that spare key I gave you don't you?" She arched a brow at him, and his faint smile gave him away. "Goodnight Frank." She called as she walked away into the hall. "Goodnight (Y/n)." He called back to her. When (Y/n) reached her bedroom, she began shedding off her clothes, in desperate need of a warm shower before going to bed.

As the water washed over her sore muscles, (Y/n)'s mind drifted to Frank. She'd been so torn up when he was declared dead, and mourned for him and his family for many months. They were a big part of her life, they were family to her. Even though deep down (Y/n) had loved Frank in a deeper more heart wrenching way. She knew it wasn't right, she knew that then, and even now she feels guilty for it.

She never acted on it, and never intended on trying to take him as her own. He was happy and he deserved the love he already had with Julie. Now things are different, but it still doesn't feel right, even if it's been over a year since she passed. He clearly still loved her, and (Y/n) wasn't going to make a fool of herself, and potentially push him away and loose him again. Still she couldn't deny the way her heart fluttered at the sight of him again, so much more gruff and rugged.

And knowing that he trusted her enough to come to her made her head spin. By the time she finished her shower, her eyes grew heavy with sleep. Her mind was still stuck on Frank, even as she crawled between the sheets. She wondered idly if he would still be here in the morning, or if he'd ever come back when he did leave. As she began drifting to sleep, she heard the sound of the guestroom door opening and closing. Telling her he was still here, and most likely would still be come morning.

(Y/n)'s sleep was dreamless and peaceful, which was better than she'd had in weeks. While Frank's dreams were chaotic and filled with memories that still hurt him oh so deeply. He dreamt of his children, of his wife, of the look of betrayal and hurt on Jakes face. Then he dreamt of (Y/n), and her never ending acceptance of the choices he's made. He felt at ease while he dreamt of her, his tense muscles relaxing as he dreamt of walking with her beside a lake.

She always had a way of putting him at ease, just by simply being there and listening to him vent whenever he needed it. He knew she meant more to him than just a friend, but he much like her, had never intended on exploring those feelings. But now after everything, despite knowing he's putting her in danger by coming around, Frank knows he needs her. He needs her help more than ever, and he knows deep down that Julie would understand.

When morning came Frank woke up to the smell of breakfast. Something he's missed more than he realized until now. In a bit of a groggy daze Frank wondered into the kitchen, dressed in the sleep clothes he found in the closet in the guestroom. "Mornin' bud." (Y/n) mused as she pushed a fresh cup of coffee his way. "Morning." He muttered as he slipped at the hot brew, slightly surprised she remembered how he likes his coffee.

"You want some breakfast?" She asked as she pulled two plates from the cupboard. "Please." He nodded his head in agreement. "Good because I made plenty." She mused with a smile, as she placed a plate in front of him. "I'm glad you're still here and you didn't slip away in the night." She added sincerely. "I half expected that last night would be the last time I'd ever see you." Her words cut him deeper than he would have expected, but he understood where she was coming from.

"Like I said, I need your help." Frank said earnestly. "Well then, what's the plan?" She asked as she sat beside him with her own plate. "I don't really have a plan, but for now I think we'll just take it one day at a time, and figure it all out." He shrugged. "Wow the Frank Castle doesn't have a plan, that's a first." (Y/n) joked, making him chuckle. "So are you planning on staying here?" She asked a few moments later. "No I don't want to put you at risk of being caught hiding a fugitive." He shook his head.

"I appreciate that." She hummed softly, having worried a bit about that last night. "I think it'll be best if I just come in the evenings when I need... Well a shoulder to lean on I guess." He said, picking at his food a little. "And when you need patched up I imagine." She added, trying to lighten the mood a bit, and Frank agreed with a small chuckle. "Yeah I'm sure I probably will come to you when I need patched up." He smiled at her before going back to eating his breakfast. "I'll be sure to stock up on some supplies." (Y/n) mused more to herself, than to Frank.

(Y/n)'s pager went off with a shrill beeping, signaling that it was time to get to work. Her partner letting her know they already had a new case to work on. "Well that's my queue, I've gotta get going. I'll see you later Frank, don't worry about the dishes, I'll deal with that when I get home." (Y/n) moved back into the kitchen, placing her half empty plate into the sink for now. "Hey (Y/n)." Frank called to her before she could rush off. "Yeah?" She asked, turning her attention to him. "Thank you, for everything." He stood from his seat, and crossed the room, pulling her into a hug. "You're welcome Frank." She hummed as she hugged him back, feeling as though she's already made a difference in his chaotic life.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

I honestly couldn't think of a better way of ending this one, but I hope it was satisfactory either way. I'm a little rusty, as I haven't consistently written in ages, so I apologize if it didn't turn out as good as you hoped. (゜-゜)

[floofeh-purpi]

Sorry if it's cringe

Tiny little rant, but back then, before I started writing here on Tumblr, I actually wrote some fanfictions of fandoms— in which I forgot— in a notebook that I would bring to school (she doesn't check my bag). Bro, one day, she found out and we had a one-sided argument and she started yelling to me about how cringe my writings were and that they were trash before tearing my notebook and saying that I should die because they were useless. I cried so hard that day.

That time, my dream to be an author was crushed, and I thought my old ambition won't resurface again, until at some point when I started reading fanfiction under the SAGAU and the Self-aware Genshin tag, like the fics that highly involve the fatui— yandere AU or not. They were underrated before my brain made me go, "Yk what? Lemme write my own series of this au with these mfs." I was very reluctant at first cus like, what if this series flops? Or What if my writing style ends up looking like shit? Bitch. Was I proved wrong.

Because as soon as I pressed the post button to publish the part 1 of that series, and went to checked on it the next day, alot of you guys actually liked—or loved, it so. Damn. Much. I actually cried happy tears for a while before deciding to write part 2.

Looking back at it right now, I am so proud of how far I have come with my ambition, I also just realized how I just proved my mom wrong with the works that I made and with how I got the courage to indupge into myself and write for another fandom <3. And don't get started on how I get compliments for just, practically doing things that I genuinely like to do from you guys!

I know I have favorites, but I love every. Single. Follower. That I got here. 🥹🫶

And it also seems that Tumblr is now a huge part of my life, I don't know why but I genuinely feel happy and safe when I vent my feelings here :D

(Happy belated 200 followers to me <3)

[demigod-shenanigans]

"I can go into why i dislike ToA (especially Tyrant's Tomb is. a book that exists) but box of pandora. Once open good luck shutting me up" (source: your tags)

Now that you said that, i'm geniunely curious. Open the box. I dare you

This should be obvious but @ the people who really enjoyed ToA, this post is not for you. I’m not sure I’ll even tag it because this is mostly me venting into the void because two people asked and not me wanting to ruin other people’s fun. These are just my personal opinions.

I also apologize if I get any details wrong, I did recheck a lot of the things mentioned but it’s been a minute since I read ToA and might not remember everything 100% correctly. Also, obvious spoiler warning.

*claps hands together* Okay, you asked for this but heads up, it’s going to be long. Maybe grab a snack and a glass of water beforehand.

My beef with ToA can be summarized into a few key points that I’ll elaborate on below but basically:

-It tries to wrap up character arcs for some of the seven (and Reyna) but does this through the eyes of someone with zero context and also treats these characters arcs as unimportant footnotes in the larger story

-Jason’s death and everything surrounding it was handled extremely poorly.

-I cannot remember any demigods staying mad at Apollo. Redemption arcs should not mean everyone has to forgive this character for all the shit they’ve done in the past.

-The death toll. This is not helped by the fact that a lot of the deaths feel like they exist solely for the purpose of making Apollo learn death sucks over and over again (Jason is the worst example of this, but there are others)

More grievances I have but don’t have enough to say about to justify a longer explanation:

-There are a whole bunch of new minor characters on top of the old ones already struggling for screen time. I don’t remember much about any of them, which is a shame because the idea behind some of them is really compelling.

-The story is centered around the Triumvirate as antagonists, with Python as a final boss, but book four just dumps an additional antagonist on you out of nowhere? Why?

-Reyna rejecting Apollo is nice and all but I still had to put up with him crushing on her and was very uncomfortable the whole time.

-Chiron sends a bunch of new demigods into what’s potentially a death battle and tells them it’s a fun field trip (what the fuck)

-This is a personal grievance more than anything but it took me ages (book five) until I really got attached to Meg. I feel like that could have been fixed if she at least got a few POV chapters.

-Dishonorable mention to the punch line joke. Two whole camps of people lining up to hit the canonically abused kid that saved them is not funny.

Details under the cut (Pandora’s box, I did warn you)

Character arcs:

The books really do try to tell meaningful stories for people whose arcs weren’t finished in Heroes of Olympus. With some of them, you can even tell the ideas behind wrapping up those arcs were solid. But the books also tells those stories through the eyes of a character who doesn’t know these people’s pasts and quite frankly doesn’t care a lot of the time. People will voice/do something that is huge for their character and instead of going into that it’s followed up with some random Apollo anecdote that’s only tangentially related at best.

Taking Leo as an example: Apollo has no idea why Leo settling down and finding a home somewhere after everything he’s been through is meaningful. That’s a story that could have been the focus of an entire book of its own, but instead it’s just a side plot to a completely different story. And that story really should have been told through Leo’s eyes, or at least through the eyes of someone like Jason or Piper who realize why this is huge for him.

Apollo also does not care why Leo and Calypso are fighting, so it’s not something that’s properly explored. Leo’s fights with Calypso are mainly mentioned/witnessed. You get some guesses as to how they started but they never mention the exact reasons. They both say they care about each other, but only to Apollo, when the other person isn’t present. When they sort things out it happens largely off-screen. I was also not a fan of the way many of their issues ended up being pinned on Leo being sexist when it was actually way more than that.

ToA does this a lot. It gives arcs to characters who honestly deserved to be explored more, but those arcs are barely footnotes in a larger story where these characters just cameo for a hundred or so pages.

The cameo stuff works okay for Percy and Solangelo because the books are very aware they’re cameos and they get to have fun but this is not their story. But the characters the series tries to give proper plots to are all over the place.

It’s said that Jason and Thalia are really close but they never interact in the books. Jason had a bit of a chance at a normal life finally but that’s barely gone into. (More on Jason later because my god did how the books handled him piss me off massively)

Piper’s struggles with her queerness get the random Apollo anecdote treatment. There’s some stuff about her reconnecting with her dad and her heritage but that’s not explored a ton either.

Frank’s firewood burns up and he’s fine, which is just sort of hand-waved and doesn’t feel meaningful, especially because I think the fireproof pouch was already a fine solution? Congrats on being free of this, now you can get stabbed to death like all the other characters, I guess.

Reyna gets a sort of arc but it feels really weird because it happens almost entirely off-screen. She spends a large fraction of the book chiding Lavinia for leaving her post, then gets her leg broken, is off-screen for a while and then just DIPS with the Hunters after her home suffered huge casualties.

I also think her joining the Hunters is a super lame way to resolve her arc in general (she just lays down one responsibility to sign up for the next, and a character not wanting romance/not wanting romance right now should be allowed to exist without having to join the eternal maiden’s club, but that problem isn’t isolated to Reyna and could honestly be a whole post of its own)

This also comes down to the fact that I’m here mainly for the demigods. I care about these kids having good arcs and good lives. I care significantly less about Apollo having to learn really obvious shit like “murdering my pregnant girlfriend was perhaps a little messed up”

Jason’s death and everything surrounding it

Killing off a major character (especially one whose arc isn’t finished) can be a plot twist that works at times. But it has to be handled well. Doing it to a character that’s suffered horrifically and is starting to heal is also a hugely shitty move, but I understand you want meaningful deaths for the plot sometimes.

But you cannot do it the way Rick did it with Jason’s death. If he was going to kill off one of the seven, he should have done it in Heroes of Olympus, with that character narrating and their friends getting to deal with the aftermath and grieve.

Instead, Jason dies in a book that he appears in for like. A hundred pages iirc? Two-hundred at most? You get Apollo narration on it, and sure, he’s big sad about it, but he also knew this guy for two days.

Piper gets a few pages to deal with his death, then disappears from the book and comes back for a heroic rescue later. Leo gets like two pages to deal with the fact that his best friend is dead. They then proceed to fuck off to Oklahoma instead of going to the funeral. For what reason? No idea. The book doesn’t bother to explain it.

Jason gets a Camp Jupiter funeral, with none of his Camp Half-Blood friends present, because fuck the fact that him belonging to both camps was a huge part of his arc, right?

Piper and Leo know Jason is dead but they cannot be there because they’d already used up their time as ToA side characters, I guess. Percy and Annabeth can’t come, they don’t find out due to demigod communication issues until the end of the series. Thalia also doesn’t get to go to her brother’s funeral. She doesn’t find out until the funeral is already over. We don’t even really get to see her grieving, her finding out Jason died happens off-screen too.

Because this is the Apollo show, Apollo is the guy who leads the funeral procession instead of, like, Reyna, who knew Jason for years.

Also, for some reason, the person avenging Jason is Frank? Absolutely no offense to Frank, he’s a great guy and I’m sure he cared about Jason, but that choice still feels deeply comedic considering I can remember exactly one meaningful interaction him and Jason had in HoO (Jason giving Frank praetor position at the end of HoH) and not a single conversation they had beyond that. If Rick had to write Leo and Piper out of the plot, why not at least have Reyna avenge him?

Jason dies specifically because Apollo broke a stupid oath he made on the River Styx. We’re told that people around him will keep dying because of this. He dies as a chess piece in a stupid game between gods, for the sake of Apollo’s character development. He dies so he can be brought up every hundred pages for Apollo to waffle about how sad his death was but how he’d also definitely not want to be brought back (I get it, we cannot revive people constantly, but having Apollo make this point when, again, he knew the guy for two days, is still really stupid. Nico also gets to make the same point at the end just in case the reader didn’t understand before that we’re not bringing Jason back)

Apollo is forgiven by everyone

Related to the above point. Like I said, we’re outright told that Jason dying is a direct consequence of Apollo’s oath. Apollo also knew taking them along on the mission would get Jason or Piper killed and he did it anyway.

Piper gets to be mad at him very briefly, but when he tries to apologize at the end of the book, she interrupts him and tells him “it’s fine” (her voice is described as “no anger, just natural heat”)

Thalia doesn’t get to be mad at him at all. Her baby brother died and she just pats Apollo on the back and tells him “it’s fine, Jason made his own choices. That’s what heroes do.” And then it’s made about how Artemis lost Apollo when he got transformed into a human instead of. Like. The fact that Thalia just lost her baby brother for the second time in her life.

IT’S FINE?? THAT’S ALL ANYONE HAS TO SAY ABOUT THIS??

Hell, Apollo even has a sort of dream hallucination of Jason’s ghost so that ghost can forgive him too.

Was that really necessary? Why do people think that a character learning to be better means absolutely everyone has to forgive them? Wouldn’t it have been a better sticking point for a god to learn people are allowed to stay mad at you?

The death toll

A lot of people die in these books. People dying in pjo books has always been a thing, but it’s never felt this pointless or this much like it was solely happening for a single person’s character development.

Jason is the most pointed example of this, but there are more. Starting with the fact that two of Apollo’s kids almost get torched in front of his face in the first book (Austin and Kayla) and somehow that is not a sticking point. I don’t think it’s ever brought up again afterwards.

Other characters that die so Apollo can learn death sucks:

-Several Dryads die saving the grove of Dodonna

-Heloise the Griffin

-One random unnamed demigod in Dark Prophecy (mentioning them because that’s where it occurs to Apollo demigod deaths also suck)

-Money Maker (Dryad)

-Crest

-Harpocrates and the Sybil of Cumae

The death toll in Tyrant’s Tomb is completely ridiculous. Like, “feels worse than Last Olympian despite not even being the final battle”-ridiculous. And unlike how Percy at least gets to use that tragic battle to change things in a fundamental way, the Camp Jupiter demigods don’t win anything significant. Their home is only almost completely destroyed. Some of them aren’t dead. That’s it.

If you remember the name of any side character Camp Jupiter demigod from HoO, there’s a very high chance they die in this book.

We don’t get exact numbers for how many people die. The book actually explicitly refuses to give numbers, stating “We didn’t count the dead. They weren’t numbers. They were people we had know, friends we had fought with.” (Which gets even more ironic due to the fact that, again, we barely have any named CJ demigods to begin with)

The closest thing we get to numbers are that 25 demigod members of the legion died in the battle before the book started, and towards the end there are fourteen total demigods still standing of the first to third cohort combined. Even if half the missing demigods are “just” so severely wounded that they can’t fight anymore, that’s still 60 dead kids! The pre-book battle was mentioned to have been hardest on the civilians. We don’t know how many of them died, and losses among the fourth and fifth cohort are also unknown, but that is a ridiculous amount of losses. Why are there so many dead kids in this book and why are we all just supposed to be okay with this?

Jupiter explicitly forbids the other gods to intervene. The only one who does is Diana, after an offering, and she takes her sweet time to get there. That camp is named after the guy! That’s people’s kids down there! I know the gods not helping their kids isn’t exactly new, but this is on a whole other level.

There are funerals but those are largely skipped over, and Frank announces that they’ll resolve this by asking Lupa to bring in more demigods so they’ll come back stronger, which. Baffling statement. Let’s just fix the dead people by replacing them.

TL;DR: Good on Apollo for learning to be better, but I really didn’t like how it was done. There were a handful of things I liked in almost all the books, not including Tyrant’s Tomb which wins the award for rrverse book I most wanted to chuck out of a window. Some of the ideas were good. I think the first and last books are mostly solid (largely due to the fact that those don’t try to shove in entire side character arcs). But the things I did enjoy just get very heavily outweighed by everything that annoyed and upset me.

I really wish ToA had been mostly new characters with maybe some minor cameos, and other people’s arcs had been saved for different books. I also think splitting the perspective between Apollo, Meg and maybe the character who was trying to have an arc in that specific book would have helped.

[seneitut]

‘‘Redemption’‘

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Yoru/F!Reader][Slight Gekko/Reader(?)]

Words: 10K

Tags: Fluff, break-up, jealousy, introspection, technicality of the game (Wanted to play with the AFK idea oopsie), NSFW +18, handjob, oral sex, teasing, dom/sub undertones, vaginal sex, more fluff, aftercare.

[Sorry for the wait, I had matters to take care of before posting this and, as you can see, is literally the longest fanfic I’ve written so far so I had to make a lot of revisions before posting it.]

-----------------------------

A few weeks later, Gekko breaks up with you.

Sudden and quick, from what he's been told.

Is surprising how fast the news travels within the few agents who are interested in something so mundane as gossiping inside the protocol. And Yoru is certain he wouldn't indulge in it if it weren't for Jett's loud mouth and perfect timing to witness the event unfolding in front of her very eyes.

The part where she decides Yoru should be the first to get the news was out of his control. Jett made sure the gossip was spread around like wildfire, starting with him and consequently Phoenix, to later on be told to Raze and Killjoy, and like dominoes, it all went downhill.

You didn't deserve something this personal to be vented out like it was nothing, and while he reprimanded Jett for being so careless and stupid for breaking your trust, her apologies wouldn't quell what has already been burnt.

What were the reasons? He asks himself that night. Why did this happen?

There is a faint clink between the tools he switches from hand to hand, discarding the one he doesn't need at the moment, before he goes back to fixing his bike. 

The loose screws and the heavy puffs of breath he exhales are the only sounds accompanying him in the empty room, too deep in thought and simply mulling over what developed in the conversation that culminated in your relationship with Gekko.

Is unhealthy of him to think about your love life when he has nothing to do with it; but Yoru is nothing but a curious human, and as flawed as he might be, the need to know nags him unceasingly. 

Yoru wonders if you ever told Gekko what transpired between you two that night. And if so, wouldn’t he understand that he was the one to take advantage of you? Yoru initiated the approach. He kissed you without asking for your permission—and while it is true that he acted upon impulses and you miraculously reciprocated, he is still to blame and be taken accountability for complicating things.

But if that wasn't the case, if you decided to keep the secret of your little moment of weakness and passion to yourself, has Gekko been planning this beforehand and simply decided to toy with your feelings for this long? Because that wouldn't make any sense.

Gekko has always acted like you were his everything; his light, his moon, his whole world. Gekko always made sure to let everyone know how much he was in love with you, much to Yoru's chagrin, and has been your personal cheerleader at everything since day one.

And now, he decides he's tired of it and breaks up with you without any explanation?

How fucking dare him.

The man is stupid for letting go who could possibly be the strongest and kindest person he's known; just what the fuck was he thinking to break your heart like this? Wasn’t he boasting about your amazing relationship a couple of weeks ago? What changed? Why was he backing off like a coward?

The shock about the separation turns into confusion, which soon boils into pure anger sizzling from the inside of his heart.

Anger is a very known feeling to him, an acquaintance to his impulses when he was younger. When he used to fall under his emotions with no regards to whoever received them, it got him into trouble more often than not, sometimes to the point he would wake up in a hospital bed after a bad beating against Tokyo’s gangs or whoever dared to mess with him.

Was it worth falling under those impulses again, when he has come far and grown from those times?

It is not his place, in truth, to be this angry. You are nothing to him, a friend at most after all. Should he be reeling in anger just because someone hurted you?

No, but he does it anyway.

Inside the rift, everything has its place. Time, space and matter all have their purpose set straight unlike him, who doesn’t really belong in this dimension and he bends them to his liking. When he goes through it, his body feels like it sinks underwater, although his movements are not deterred despite the feeling, it gets overwhelming if Yoru stays for too long. 

Omen has once mentioned how it feels to leave a part of himself everytime he goes through the rift, does it hurt? Can he feel himself tearing apart? He doesn’t, he doesn’t feel any sort of pain, and Yoru wonders if that should concern him or shall not be too worried.

But no matter, that is of no importance right now.

It doesn’t take long for him to find Gekko while running through the base, the tip of his fingers tingling with the want to release some steam and chest heaving with anger seeping off of him. 

Gekko is lounging at the range with Reyna by his side. His whole posture is slouched, head between his hands and avoiding Reyna’s gentle but confused expression.

Both are lucky he doesn’t carry a weapon or else a crime would have taken place at the base. He's bluffing, of course, because he wouldn't dare to harm others severely. 

Yoru wishes he could, though.

For the time being, he will remain inside the rift and watch in silence. If he's going to punch Gekko until he becomes a pulp, he rather do it alone without witnesses. That and he doesn’t want to deal with Reyna’s wrath if she were to be present when he beats the shit out of this scum.

They seem to be talking about something, but it doesn't seem to be escalated enough to label it as an argument but it wasn’t a normal conversation either. 

When he decides to take a closer look, he finds Gekko with a devastated expression on his face and eyes misty with a thin layer of tears. Is shocking, to say the least, being the witness to such an abnormal expression on the usual happy man.

Reyna is frowning, a tight line set on her lips and hand hovering over his shoulder, hesitant whether to touch him or not.

Through the rift, the sounds come garbled and sometimes impossible to discern with the huge gap between the time passing by and him floating in nothingness. Yoru approaches further, cautious, for maybe Reyna might be able to distinguish his soul in between the subtle breaking in the rift.

“Why did you have to break it off, though?” She mutters, a confused expression painting her features. “Las cosas iban bien entre ustedes, ¿no es así?”

Gekko shrugs, not wanting to voice his thoughts.

“She likes you, Teo,” Yoru doesn’t know what’s going on. “She likes you a lot, mijo.”

Gekko’s eyes look downcast, a sad smile tugging his lips.

“She might like me.” he whispers brokenly. “But she doesn’t love me.”

Yoru might be a killing machine on the field and a cold-hearted person towards others if he so desires; he’s been told so many times before. But at this moment, he understands that his anger should be quelled and tone it down a little bit, for he is not the only one who is hurt and he might have misinterpreted the whole situation.

What could be worse, than finding out the person you love doesn't share the same sentiment to the same degree as you do? 

He's gone through the path once, way before meeting you, but never considered himself hurt because he was experimenting with said emotion. Because love is weird, a state in oneself where you are the weakest and he hated feeling like that. 

It was thanks to you he decided to transform this weakness into a strength, despite knowing it could bite his ass one day. Yoru gave in to his desires with you, and he admits you acknowledging his intentions and reciprocating them gave him the sort of euphoria he doesn’t find often in fights.

Gekko is as upset as you might be, more hurt than one might think.

What should he do now?

Staring off into the distance, Yoru thinks emotions are bullshit and way too difficult to deal with.

Gekko and yourself have been a clear example to how far he can go because of some petty feeling like jealousy or lust, and how pathetic it made him act without thinking of the consequences—not like he's cared about that before.

But because of this, Jett has been his shoulder to cry on, and Phoenix his ear to lend when he feels like he cannot handle the mixed emotions into a devastating concoction of overwhelmingness. 

Both have been the key to fix himself up and rebuild after learning of your relationship, despite reassuring with anger that he was fine when it was not true.

His friends are good and he doesn't deserve them, in truth, with how shitty he has been in the past. But for so long he has been denying himself the pleasure to get things that are meant to be his, and this is one of them. 

Yoru will learn to heal and move on, sooner or later, and he hopes he can face you without feeling troubled or confused as to what he wants in life.

Things never get easier from afar.

“Launch site, be there in ten.” Brimstone calls out to him one day. 

To say he scared the shit out of him would be an understatement, choking on his beverage before glaring at the commander with the dirtiest look he could muster. 

He did not hear him coming, even when his loud stomping could be heard from down the hallway, but that is mostly his fault because of his lack of attention and disoriented mind. It should be obvious with the dark bags under his eyes and tired expression that he hasn't been getting enough sleep and was most likely out of it because Brimstone regards him with solemnity.

“It’s Ice box, Yoru.” he mentions. The name of the place alone makes him perk up in attention. “Anomalies have taken place recently, coming from the lab holding onto the samurai's armor.”

What?

“We’ve tracked down a wave of radianite that was ignited on icebox, but we weren’t sure from where exactly.” Brimstone takes out his device, approaching him on the kitchen table and laying it out for him to see. “Cypher was able to narrow it down to A site only, and by the looks of it, we aren’t the only ones who are after it.”

“The omega?” he asks, uncertain. 

“They are approaching rapidly. We need to leave soon.”

That wakes him up, “I’ll be there in ten.”

Brimstone nods and takes his leave.

There is not much time before parting nor question who else was coming to Ice box with them. Not like it matters, but he rather have teammates that will work well alongside him for something as important as this.

Taking his jacket from his room and his butterfly knife, he wonders if the sudden anomaly on Ice box had anything to do with his restless nights for the past weeks.

An incognita were the nightmares that Yoru has had lately. It was never anything clear for him to guess or simply have a vague idea as to what it wanted, but with what Brimstone has told him, a lot of things cleared up. 

Not the whole picture, but it was something to start from.

At the launch site, he encounters Sage and Reyna talking in hushed voices. Both of them regard him with a silent nod and go back to the conversation, but Reyna's eyes never leave his form while he keeps on walking—and if looks could kill, he would be underground in an instant. Yoru does his best to ignore it until he can no longer feel her threatening aura sticking to the back of his neck, and once to a safe distance, he sighs in relief.

Brimstone is at the entrance of the jet carrying an operator, securely strapped to his back, and a few other weapons on the carriage. He seems to be talking to someone inside the vehicle already, handing out the guns and the operator, but can't figure out who.

“Step in, Yoru, we are getting ready.” The commander calls. “I'll coordinate with Sage and Reyna, and we take off.”

Nodding, he enters, but his whole serious façade is gone the moment his eyes land on yours.

Perhaps it had to do with time, or the light working in your favor, but the moment you lock eyes, you literally take his breath away with surprise painting his features. It almost seems like you were expecting him with the way you perk up in excitement as soon as you see him.

Smiling softly, you pat the seat next to yours, beckoning him to approach you. 

“I didn't know you were coming.” He comments, clearing up his throat. “Should've said something.”

“It was a last minute call.” Shrugging, he notices the strap of the operator in arm, but says nothing. “Brimstone was unsure whether to call you in or leave you out of this. But with how things were going, I decided it was for the best if you came and asked him to look for you.”

“Hah, missed me that much?” 

Yoru really never learns, huh. 

Is natural for him to want to tease you, so used to it that now, even after so long without speaking nor crossing words, he has the urge to interact with you this way.

“I did, Yoru.” You answer with honesty. The look in your eyes has him paralyzed, feeling his face flush with the short distance between you two. It reminisces the moment where you first kissed in the kitchen, and that only fuels his embarrassment because it could be so easy to lean in and kiss you again. “I-um, I missed you a lot.”

Brimstone stomps in the jet, raising a brow when he sees Yoru jump on his seat, startling him once again, and fixes his composure before the two of you look at him. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, we’re just catching up.” Your hand covers his own hand laying on his lap, squeezing it with gentleness until your fingers intertwine. “Been a while.”

Brimstone nods, going to the cockpit without any further questions. Sage and Reyna follow up next, both of them regarding you two with a respective nod and taking a seat in front of you.

Cowardice isn't a term known by Yoru, scratching it up and dunking it on the trash since he is by no means a coward. But with how heavy Reyna's stare is, burning holes into your gentle but loving clasping hands, he is starting to get why some people are afraid. 

You distract him enough, though, speaking in a soft tone about what has been going on lately and the missions you haven't shared since Lotus—there is no mention of the situation you had when you first kissed, but he is soon to push it to the back of his mind to save you the trouble.

Surprisingly, he is able to maintain eye contact for longer than he expects without embarrassment clouding his senses, following up your peppy conversation with a few grunts and short replies.

Throughout the whole flight, your hand never leaves his.

x    x    x    x

Ice box is just as he remembers. 

Empty, freezing, but with a whole new wave of unknown power radiating from the old labs. 

Yoru gets why Brimstone was so unsure to bring him along. 

The pulsating beckoning of energy was nauseating and tiring; a migraine approaching fastly and making him lose his footing as soon as he steps off the jet.

Sage is there in an instant, clear worry across her features and helping him to stabilize himself. 

“Are you okay?” She asks. Her hands are glowing a soft blue, her healing abilities ready for him if need be. 

Yoru is close to dismissing her help, annoyed to be treated so delicately, but before he could muster a word, a spike of pain strikes his head, groaning in discomfort and his side hits the entrance of the landing. 

Leaving the operator on the floor, you run to where Yoru has fallen to the floor, and grasp him tightly by the shoulders to help him sit comfortably. 

Holding his head between his hands, he grunts, eyes tightly shut and breathing heavily through his nose. His head is pounding horribly, sounds he doesn't know where they were coming from was deafening him heavily that all your voices were melting together in the background. 

He sees the moment the sounds stop completely, mouths moving and actions on going but nothing else. Instead, a gruffing and heavy voice is what resonates inside his brain, like an echo, and a womanly voice accompanies it when they call to him.

‘Come’, they whisper, ‘Come to us.’

Your hand goes straight to his back, caressing him with soothing motions and whispers of gentle words. Respectfully, nothing you are doing helps with his pain nor confusion drowning him. It is kind of annoying, too, but Yoru likes you too much to say something of the sort and lets you do whatever you want.

‘Find him.’

And then it ceases completely. The sounds from his environment come back with a sudden burst he feels his ears sensible with the many voices trying to talk one above the other. Is overwhelming.

“We cannot continue with Yoru in this state.” Brimstone walks up to where Yoru is sitting, patting his back with a strong push. The japanese man holds back an insult at his action. “You’re staying. There is no time to go back and bring someone else to replace you, so stay here.”

“I can still fight-”

“No. And that’s an order.” He nods to Reyna and Sage to go on ahead. “Survey A site, I’ll take mid and we will strike as soon as I give the order.”

Sage glances at him from the corner of her eyes, worried, but complies with Brimstone's request. Reyna follows after her without regarding him at all but with a scoff, vandal at hand and the most graceful walking she could muster.

If Yoru wasn’t in so much pain, he would have laughed to mock her. He can have all the respect for Reyna and her tactical abilities, but to be this childish over whatever she was feeling was ridiculous in his eyes.

Brimstone calls you out, startling you, “Survey B site but don’t push. You’re gonna be alone so we can’t gamble losing a team member this easily, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

Brimstone gives a brief glance at him before leaving you two alone.

Grunting, his fist hits the side of the floor, frustrated. The only time where he needs to be in the best shape is ruined by god knows what, that he doesn’t know who to blame it on.

“Yoru, is it okay if I speak this softly? Does it hurt you?” Your hand hovers over his fist, thumb running up and down his spiked knuckles. 

He breathes out harshly, nodding. 

“The enemy team has brought Yoru, too, and the chances of him suffering what you're going through are high.” Hand under his chin, he lets you raise his head gently to lock gazes. The pain subsides for a little bit, enough to have clarity and melt under the beautiful color of your eyes looking at him with so much emotion. “Don't worry about not coming, their Yoru might have to back off from this just like you, so there is no need to worry.”

Kissing the top of his head, you stand up and take your gun back. Reloading the ammo, you strap on the operator and send him a small smile before walking away.

“We'll figure out what happens after we're done, for now take a rest.”

The normality of your actions only furthers his want to go after you, seeing you walk away with a steady step. Nevermind the pain clouding his senses, he cannot help but worry for whatever might happen if you were to stay alone.

And it doesn’t have to do with him doubting your skills, but the inability to do something to help because of some dumb bullshit about the radianite and the armor still under vigilance in the labs.

The voices from before might have something to do with the anomalies, but he isn’t sure whether to trust his guts or just wait for some miracle to happen to figure it out. The headache won’t be going away anytime soon nor the pain racking his whole body, and he isn’t going to stay at the landside where there won’t be any action unfolding.

Standing up slowly, Yoru grunts in discomfort, losing his footing the first try but finding support on the wall the second time. 

He taps on the private line immediately, breathing a sigh of relief when you answer quickly to his call.

“Yoru, what’s wrong?” Your voice comes in rushed, a subtle undertone of worry honeying your words. “Are you okay? Do you need me to come back?”

“I-I’m okay. I need-”

Everything turns black for a second. The single second where all matters and nothing does at the same time.

The numbness on his limbs, the rush of memories, the excruciating pain destroying him from the inside; this all feels familiar and nostalgic, reviving the moment where his life changed and there was no turning back from the powers gifted to him.

‘Look for us', they plead. ‘Find him.'

The moment he blinks the sky greets him with a bright shine, blinding him for a moment and taking his time adjusting to it. Your face comes into view after a few seconds, a frown between your eyebrows and mouth set in a tight line. 

The light from above gives you a crown of light, glowing softly against your skin Yoru might have commented on it if it weren’t for his lucidity and catching his tongue on time.

When he breathes, he doesn’t feel any sort of pain. 

It almost feels like it never was there to begin with, which is surprising given the circumstances.

“Yoru?” Your voice quivers with anxiousness. 

“Hm.” he sighs, running a hand through his hair in a weak attempt to appear cool. “M'fine, just…dizzy.”

“Here, sit.”

You manage to make Yoru sit without any trouble, looking for any signs of injury or distress from his pain early on, but find nothing to worry about. He seems fine, better than before, for sure.

The japanese man pushes you to the side gently, creating enough space for him to stand up and pat down his clothes to clear it from debris or snow sticking to the fabric. You are still watching him like a hawk in case he starts losing his footing, but Yoru scoffs, offended, and walks past where you're kneeling.

“Aren't you coming? We've got a mission to fulfill.” 

Flabbergasted, you blink up at him, mouth opening and closing without any words making it out. 

“Yoru,” you start gently, standing up. “Brimstone was very clear with his instructions. You have to stay here if you are unable to perform.”

“I look fine, don’t I? Let’s go.”

“Wh- Yoru, you couldn’t even stand minutes ago and now you’re acting all tough?” You point at the jet, “Go back. This whole act isn’t cool.”

The wind blows by strongly, ruffling his well kept hair, but no words of daring come from his mouth. Instead, he leans into the side, cocking his head and smirking at your attempt to be bossy.

“Who’s going to make me stay, you?” Giving a dry laugh, he crosses his arms. “Go on, try it, little minx.”

“Don’t make me start, Yoru, or else-”

“Or else what?”

You breathe in heavily, counting to ten inside your head to not snap at him nor disrespect him.

 “You have to follow what Brimstone has told you.” You retort, muttering through clenched teeths. “You stay here because I say so, too.”

“Oh yeah? And when has that stopped me?” 

Spluttering, your anger rises with the tone in your voice, “I have no fucking idea, so stop acting like a fucking brat and stay!”

Not wanting to give him a chance to reply, you turn around and stomp your way to B site just like Brimstone delegated. You hear Yoru walk right behind you, oblivious to your demand, and you cannot help the little vein protruding on your forehead with the anger consuming you.

“Fucking bitch.” You mutter under your breath. Walking backwards, you shout at him. “Is it that hard to listen to instructions?! What is your deal?”

“I can’t leave you alone.” is his reply, which infuriates you more. “I’m good. I will go with you.”

“Do you really not trust my own abilities? Weren’t you the one who said that you all should be more trusting of my skills when we went to Lotus?” Scoffing, you turn your back to him, climbing up the stairs to the kitchen. “Unbelievable, you are truly unbelievable and a hypocrite.”

“It has nothing to do with your ability or not. I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“Hah! Sure, as if that were all.”

“Would you even stop for a second if I were to say anything else?” Rolling his eyes, he continues. “You cannot even trust me when I tell you I’m fine and now you want me to follow your rules?”

Not even looking at him, you reply, “Yeah! That would be nice!”

“Stop for a second damnit! Listen to me!”

You don’t. You cross the threshold of the kitchen and he runs up to you like a little kid about to throw a tantrum. Taking your hand into his, he tries to make you stop and look at him, but you snatch it away immediately.

“I love you.” he blurts out.

That is enough to stop you dead in your tracks, not giving him a glance nor reply to his words. Yoru feels his face burn with embarrassment but is determined to let his feelings be known after so long. Whether you reciprocate or not, is all up to you. Whether this is the correct place to be outing his feelings, he is not sure.

The contrast of the cold brushing his warm cheeks in gentle breezes sends a shiver down his spine, blaming the weather for the wavering puffs of air coming out of his mouth and not because of the sudden nervousness eating him from the inside. 

After a long minute, that almost feels like many years in his opinion, you resume your walking with him tailing behind you. Yoru wonders if you’ve heard him correctly or perhaps you misunderstood his words. 

“I said I love y-”

“I know.” you interrupt, gaze set straight in front of you. “Gekko told me so but I didn’t believe him. It wasn’t until we kissed that night that I realized I was pretty dumb for not noticing your feelings.”

Yoru would think this was some sort of rejection, not really understanding if you were reprimanding him for kissing you or telling you he loves you when you already know. But looking closely, he sees the tip of your ears redden with each step, refusing to meet him in the eye.

“You should go back to the jet. Brimstone is going to be mad at us.”

“I don't care.”

“Well, you should! I ain't taking responsibility if something happens to you.” 

“I don't need protection nor for you to take responsibility. I'm here right now because you need to know that I love you and I won’t be leaving you alone.”

“Okay! I get it!”

Smirking slightly, he jogs to your side and bumps shoulders with you. You shot him a dirty look, pouting when he finally sees the red on your cheeks is not because of the cold but from his words.

“What about you?” he dares ask.

“What about me?” you echo, annoyed.

Yeah, what about you? Was he expecting to hear the same words of professing love from you? He just wanted to get rid of these thoughts cluttering his brain and distracting him, to be free, in some sort of way. Yoru hopes he didn’t make you uncomfortable with his sudden confession.

Humming, you give him a side glance and a grin, “You sure are very confident for someone who doesn't know what the other feels.” Bumping his shoulder back, you walk ahead of him. “I love you too.”

Oh.

Oh.

You love him.

Having you say those words sparks some sort of hope he buried deep within his heart, digging them back to surface. His face is lit in flames within seconds, and he tries to hide it behind a raised hand and looks the other way to avoid you seeing it.

Is clear he does a poor job trying to conceal his embarrassment and excitement because as soon as you get a glimpse of his face, you laugh brightly, poning his side to mock him. That only worsens his state, face hot and red as a pepper.

Once you two are deep in the kitchen, you take a bold decision.

Pushing Yoru against the halls, your hand tangles behind his head, pulling on his roots and clashing your mouths together on a bruising kiss. Is obvious he wasn’t expecting this kind of action from you because he groans loudly, leaning into the hand pulling at his hair harshly and melting under your liplock with a sigh.

He doesn’t take long to hold onto your waist and turn the tables, caging you against the wall this time and giving you the same treatment of roughness by holding you behind your neck and his left hand grabbing you by the waist, slotting your hips together. 

Is a little uncomfortable being in this position because the operator is still strapped to your back, but Yoru makes it work with bending you to his body and making you forget about the gun when he takes your chin between his fingers and makes some distance. 

Whining, you close the gap once again, not giving him time to take a breath and sticking your tongue inside his mouth to maintain contact. 

He consumes your fire from within like a starved man, sucking on your lower lip and biting it as gently as his hands paws over your whole form, basking in the feeling of your mouths clasped together and the tight hold you have on his hair every time his hands travel to to your backside.

You pull on his hair harshly when his left hand grabs a fistful of your ass and he groans, trying to make distance to breathe in some air, but you gasp loudly when his lips attach to your neck immediately, nibbling on the skin and sucking desperately to mark your skin.

“We need to survey B site, Yoru, let go.” You moan at one particular bite, sighing when his hands try to go under your clothes. You smack his hands away, flustered and a little bit angry. “God dammit, Ryo, not now.”

“Says the one who started this, little minx.” he teases, licking up a strip of saliva from your collarbone to your neck.

Huffing, you push him off of you, resuming your walking with the little dignity you still hold and cleaning the spit in the corner of your mouth. Yoru prides himself in seeing you this disheveled over him, imagining what else could he do if you let him be.

Gotta calm down, now. He doesn’t want to deal with the bad guys with a hard-on now, does he?

“So?” he asks. You blink up at him. “What’s going to happen now?”

“Feelings are difficult, I guess.” Shrugging, you strap off your operator. “I understand why the fraternization rule was made, it only gets in the way of our job. That’s why Gekko and I never worked.”

“Does it, now?”

Brimstone is saying something through the comms, but neither of you pay him any mind. Yoru nudges your side with his arm, and you cannot escape the small smile tugging at your lips.

“We can talk about ourselves later.” is all you say before setting off. “We have all the time in the world, Ryo.”

Smiling, he straps off his Sheriff. 

He likes the way you say his name.

“Whatever, you idiot.”

x    x    x    x

Yoru doesn't want to admit that he was weak throughout the fight. 

Not because of his abilities nor aim—he would fight whoever thinks he whiffs his shots— but because he let the enemies run away in one piece when he had the chance of eliminating them for good.

The excuse of running out of bullets was believable, having only a sheriff and a few reloads while defending the site, and you backing up his report helped a lot. Besides, Brimstone was more focused on his disobedience in a clear order than letting go of the omega agents, so he supposes that was enough of a distraction.

The intel was right, omega Yoru was here, alongside your omega version. It seems like they were set off to lurk while the rest of the team attacked A site and they were to wrap around your base to corner you all. 

It backfired immediately.

Your aim was impeccable, as always. He didn't know you were proficient with the operator but it was no joke when you had the gun in hand and targets to shoot. 

But, in truth, he is tempted to think you let them go, too, because they were injured enough but not dead by the bullets that were fired. 

Your omega version stood in front of omega Yoru, protecting him from the bullets that weren’t coming through anymore. Both of them were bleeding and with wounds that could probably kill them if it were not to be treated correctly and on time.

“Please,” your omega version begs. They have a shorty, only, discarding it to the side to mean no harm. “Take me if you want, but don't touch him.”

Yoru's eyes travels from you to omega Yoru, who is panting harshly behind the other you. The omega snarls, furious, to be witnessed by his mirror to this weak state.

He knows himself, knows the other must feel pathetic and frustrated for not doing more and failing so miserably on this mission. The pride is high and wild, so who better than himself to understand the situation at hand.

Yoru loads his last bullet to the sheriff, and you shrivel up in panic. Your stance hasn't changed, your tattered body still shielding omega Yoru despite the pain and that is something he respects. 

“Should I shoot?” your voice comes from the comms. He knows you're still aiming and watching in silence whatever is unfolding on site, but you don't interfere further than to ask that question. 

“I have it under control.” Is all he answers.

A bullet is shot, and your omega version gasps in unison with omega Yoru when they see the bullet go a few centimeters off the side, not even gracing them.

“What-?”

“Leave.” Yoru straps on his sherriff, taking out his butterfly knife instead to play with it while he waits in silence. When neither of you react, he raises a brow. “Want me to carry you to your own base or what? Leave now before Brimstone comes, he won't be merciful.”

That was their cue to start moving.

You try to carry omega Yoru as best as you could, having his arm around your shoulders and your hand holding onto his jeans for leverage. Giving him a brief glance, you thank him quietly before starting to walk away with urgency.

“Wait.” Omega Yoru tries to turn around, glaring at his alpha version. “It's because of her, isn't it? Is it the same for you?”

You nudge him, eyes pleading for him to keep walking,“Yoru, stop.”

“No. I want to know why.” His mirror grunts in pain, almost colliding against the wall if it weren't for your hold. “I know me. And I know I would have shot if it weren't because of her. So I need to know if it's the same for you.”

Yoru decides to not answer, since everything is already laid out for them. He knows you are listening through the comms, so whatever his answer is, you should've known by now.

“So it is.” he mutters, giving a dry laugh. “This is going to be the death of us one day.”

“Love, let’s go.” Your mirror mutters. He nods, and they take off.

“Ice box is fucking cursed, Yoru.” The other says. “The voices are torturing, trying to be helpful, but this place is cursed for us.”

You never said anything, watching the duo walk away as best as they could with the sun setting in the background. 

The trail of blood they leave behind is the only clue that a battle has unfolded and they were once again victorious, although it felt nothing like a victory to him.

The words from omega Yoru would stay with him, storing the information for future investigation, and haunting him until his next confrontation takes place. 

“I think you did good.” Eating a slice of the apple, you glance briefly at him, interrupting his thoughts. “Letting them go, I mean. I think it was good.”

He scoffs, “I was weak. A mistake I won’t be making again if we encounter them in the future.” 

Shaking your head, you lean your head to the side, “You had mercy on them. I think this is a step that was necessary to take to change the dynamic we’re living in.”

Blinking down at you, he raises a brow, “What do you mean by that?”

Your fingers tap the table in a rhythmic motion, mulling over his question for a moment before replying, “I don’t think it is necessary to be killing them, despite having done so already many times before.” Shrugging, you take another slice. “Call me naive or just a hopeless romantic, but what they had is something I respect a lot. They are humans, too, not just some kind of experimentation we can look over. They…they might have an explanation for the radianite and their need.”

Yoru rolls his eyes with skepticism, crossing his arms with disappointment in his eyes. 

“This is my way of thinking.” You defend. “You can have yours, but we both know that nothing might change unless we are the one’s meddling in the battlefield.”

“You’re willing to risk it all to prove that an amicable relationship can be doable?”

Humming, you nod, “I do.”

“You’re dumb, then.”

“Maybe, but only time will tell if I’m right.”

“Suit yourself.”

Both of you fall in silence, eating from the plate the few slices of apple that are left. Only the buzzing from the refrigerator makes a background noise to cover up the long and suffocating topic that none of you want to touch now. 

Yoru is nervous, you are nervous, but you are too cowardly to take the first step.

Mission aside, what happened at ice box when you kissed again was supposed to be the bridge to start a conversation about what would entail knowing each other’s feelings. One would believe that something might have happened by now, but here you are.

In silence.

“I think I’ll take my leave.” He coughs awkwardly, standing from the chair. “Goodnight.”

It was almost like a mirror situation many weeks ago. Where he leaves and you are left confused, wanting, and you cannot bear the thought of dealing this by yourself again.

When he bids you goodbye, you unconsciously reach for his hand, immediately stopping him from going further and he looks back at you. 

When none of you say anything, you brave yourself through your nervousness to break the distance and take his face with your free hand, caressing his cheek with tenderness. 

Yoru lets you do whatever you want, anxiousness seeping out of him when you tiptoe to reach him and, in an act to fulfill your impulses, you kiss the corner of his mouth with a gentle touch.

The japanese man stifles at the contact, gasping when your lips travel from a mere graze, to groaning when your mouth captures him in a passionate kiss, lips melting together sweetly like honeycomb.

You hold him like you desire to be devoured completely; reaching, grabbing and tugging everywhere until his body engulfs yours against the counter of the kitchen and you hold onto his shoulders for leverage. His hands rise goosebumps under your clothes, big palms caressing the skin on your back, racking down his nails until he feels your shudder. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if this was wrong of you to do. If Gekko would mind you chasing after what you really want despite having failed him miserably while together. 

Gekko is none the wiser, your brain supplies, and you hope it stays that way. 

You tug playfully at his lower lip with your teeth before diving to get more of him, mouths slotting together on a more profound kiss and tongues fighting to claim dominance. It is then that any rational thought goes out of the window.

His hand finds purchase on your hips, yours tugs at his hair, earning a groan from him which you immediately swallow with greed. Yoru has half the mind to think about what he's doing when his hand brushes your thighs and pulls you up until you're seated on the counter. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, breathless. 

Yoru's mouth kisses every inch of skin to his availability, sucking on your neck with want until you have your head thrown back, enticing him to mark every part of you. 

“We should stop.” He begs, but his actions betray his words when he rolls his hips against your core, cock twitching inside his pants. You whisper his name, returning the favor and caging him between your legs. 

You can feel his erection even through all the clothing between your bodies, lust clouding your mind with nothing but the good sensations despite feeling guilt gnaw at the pit of your stomach.

That does not deter you from purchasing the euphoria coursing through your body when you rock your hips again, his clothed cock rubbing deliciously against you till the point your words get slurred.

This is not the right place for this kind of situation to be unfolding. You both are too exposed for anyone to walk into, and the least he wants is to show the other agents the boner he is sporting right now. Besides, he is sure to go feral with anger if anyone dares to see you this disheveled and flustered. 

This sight is for him alone.

Claiming his mouth, your hand let go of his hair to reach for his belt, unbuckling it quickly. Yoru freezes when your hand goes into his trousers to grab at his dick shamelessly, thumb running over the head of his cock. Gasping, he hides his blushing face in the crook of your neck, hips thrusting in tandem to your slow pumps to rile him up. 

“You feel so hot.” you whisper in his ear. He bites your neck and sucks on the skin to have his mouth occupied. “You are so hard, love.”

He gasps when you twist your wrist and your thumb runs over the head of his cock again, spreading the pre-cum and messily using it as a lube to pump your hand faster on his shaft. You feel him twitch in your hand when you accelerate the pace and tremble when his warm breath hits your cheek in gasps. 

“Faster…” he mutters, groaning. The timbre of his voice lowers a few octaves, and it's of immediate urgency to keep listening to more. “Shit, go faster.”

You indulge in his request, hand moving to a faster pace, and feeling the veins protruding on his cock between your fingers. Your mouth glues to his neck, nibbling it softly and biting down, hard, until a mark is visible against his pale skin. 

The schlik-schlik sounds in the background are filthy to the ears, Yoru feels his face flush up with embarrassment to have been reduced to a puddle of lust and trembling legs from the overwhelming sensations.

Pushing him away, Yoru groans in frustration because he was close to being ripped to the seams with the upcoming orgasm. The momentum is gone, and he is not sure whether to be angry at you or beg you to please keep going.

But by the time he decides what to do, you’re already on your knees, pulling down his pants until his member is freed from its confines and your mouth sucks on his cock with an invigorated enthusiasm that has him grasping the counter for leverage.

His right hand goes to the roots of your hair, pulling and pushing your head in tandem with the thrusting of his hips. Yoru abuses your mouth to his liking, chasing after the little fire burning him on his lower abdomen and to let loose. 

Groaning, his eyes roll to the back of his head when your tongue comes into play, licking the underside of his dick with each stroke of your mouth. Yoru leaves your head to hold his weight with both of his hands onto the counter, knees weak and breath taken away.

You use your hand to keep the stimulation going, giving you time to catch some air and glare at him from down there. Despite having his face flushed, sweat rolling down his temple and trembling under your touch, he dares smirk at you, as if he has gotten away with something he’s been wanting to do for a long time.

“You fucking brat.” you whisper, mouth latching onto the side of his cock and your free hand toying with his balls.

Yoru whimpers, he fucking whimpers, the moment your mouth sucks on the head of his dick and your hands wrap around the rest of his member with fast strokes, bobbing your head up and down, and timing it with his weak thrusts, you hum, vibrations running up his cock deliciously.

You try to close your legs while kneeling, trying to get some friction to alleviate the pressure on your lower belly and the need to touch yourself; but you are prioritizing Yoru’s pleasure above else right now, enjoying his salty taste in your mouth and gulping down the pre-cum gathering with your spit.

“Fuck!” he curses. His hips stutter wildly, head thrown back and eyes closed when the sudden rush of euphoria courses through his body. 

Yoru cums inside your mouth moaning your name and gasping for air.

He holds your head with a tight grip, spurting his seed inside your mouth in big spurts until you have no other option but to swallow it, choking on his cock when the tip hits the back of your throat. 

Yoru rides his orgasm as if his life depended on it, breathless and hitting a high point where his noises couldn’t be contained. 

Backing off, Yoru slides down next to you, breathing heavily and slumping against your form in defeat and burrowing his head on your neck, nuzzling it affectionately. Is funny how he seeks physical contact like a little cat, voiceless and going for it.

You’re coughing up harshly, part of his cum still drooling to the side of your lips.

“You owe me one.” You say, knocking your heads together. 

He only hums, satisfaction oozing out of him, and cleans the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“You can cash in right now, baby girl.”

Trembling, you look to the side, bashful, “Don’t get all flirty with me now.” Giving him a brief glance, you blush when you see his dick still out of his pants and butt naked against the floor. “You fucking idiot, put on your pants!”

Yoru laughs softly, nuzzling your neck and kissing the pulse with gentleness. You can’t help but sigh at his change in demeanor.

“I’ll do so if you promise to come to my room with me.” his lips caress the shell of your ear, kissing it. You give a surprised giggle at that. “Hm, what do you say?”

x    x    x    x

The moment your back hits the bed, Yoru is taking your pants away, pulling them with carefulness but urgency in his actions until you are bare from the waist down. He messily takes your shoes, too, and you save half the work by unbuttoning your shirt and unclasping your brassier so you can be bare for him.

Yoru is grunting, snarling almost like an animal, when he pounces on you and his lip attaches to your neck with ferociousness, biting and sucking harshly on the skin till it reddens. He makes room between your legs, your glistering folds rubbing against his jeans while he cages you against the bed and devours you with hunger.

Your hand tugs at his hair, finding out that he seems to like the rough treatment as much as you do, and your legs closes around his waist, grinding against him in search of some friction to alleviate yourself.

His right hand palms over your breast, fingertips running over your nipples while his mouth makes way to your other breast, sucking in with the same fervor he did with your marked neck. Biting softly on your nipple, his tongue flattens against your skin, licking it up and sucking until you curve your back, shrieking from the sudden action.

“Again-!” You plead, hips stuttering, and hands holding onto the sheets by your head. “Again, Ryo, please.”

He does as you say. Mouth sucking on your breast while his hand toys with your nipple. The left hand that was holding onto your waist goes straight to your core, fingers pressing against the outer lips but not entering, teasing you with gentle strokes, pads running softly over your clit but is not enough.

You need more.

“Ryo, I swear to fucking god if you don’t put that mouth to work I’m going to kill you.” Grabbing him by his hair, you pull, hard, and the motherfucker has the nerve to give you a cheeky grin, licking his lips. 

“You’re gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

Yoru moves out of the way until he is sitting on the floor right next to the bed, and with a strong pull, he takes your legs to rest above his shoulder and hands hold you by the waist tightly.

Before you could utter a word, nervous, he dives into your pussy, licking up a stripe with harshness that has you trembling under his touch. You moan his name shamelessly, gasping for air when he sucks on your little nub of nerves and his fingers prod on your entrance.

Coated in your juices, two of his fingers slide in easily, pumping them in and out slowly, and dragging his pads against your walls and timing it with his sucks. Being pressed between your legs and eating you out has to be one of the best things in the world, and he cannot begin to describe how aroused and hard you’re making him with your taste and moans coming from your mouth.

Your hands tangle in his hair, swapping between pulling at his roots or pushing his head to drown in your folds. Your hips are moving against his mouth erratically, riding in the feeling of his fingers and tongue on your pussy, wearing you down with each stroke of his appendage.

“Ryo, Ryo- Ah!” Head thrown back, you gasp when his fingers leave your hole to replace it with his mouth, tongue abusing your entrance rapidly and fingers going to your clitoris to rub them in tandem.

Stars were starting to cloud your vision, feeling the tight knot on your belly so close to snapping you can feel the orgasm tethering on the brim. Your hands travel to your chest, touching yourself with eagerness while being watched by your lover. You can almost feel his smile against your pussy, enjoying the show, which only riles you up.

But before you could combust and cum all over his face, Ryo makes distance, pushing you away but not before giving a last lick to your outer lips, legs trembling on each side of his face, that he smirks up at you.

“We haven’t finished yet, little minx.”

Furious for being denied of your climax, you punch him in the chest, “Fucking shit, Ryo! I was so fucking close-”

“Shhh,” he silences you, kissing your mouth with your taste on his tongue. He looks disheveled, raw, it makes you drip with want. His hands hovers over your perky nipples, flicking them with a devious smile playing on his lips. “It only gets better now.”

He strips down easily, throwing his jacket to the side of the bed while taking his shoes off. Pulling down his pants, you see his cock fully erect and bouncing slightly against his abs, flushed red with the tip smeared with his pre-cum. 

He pumps his cock a few times, pushing you against the mattress and devouring the sight as if you were a meal.

His chest is pressed against yours, leaning down to gently lay his lips to yours, and holding his weight with both of his arms on either side of your head. Yoru doesn't notice your tiny hand making its way to his cock, too concentrated on your lips and the hand pulling on his hair.

Guiding his dripping cock to your entrance, you open your legs to accommodate him easily and, with the help of your legs, you push him inside.

The head of his member breaches your entrance, a shiver runs down your spine when he bullies his way inside you slowly, walls clamping down on him and pulsating with lust running down your veins. 

Yoru groans in unison with you when he's fully in, your legs holding him in place to make the feeling of being connected this deeply last longer.

Touching your face, Yoru rests his forehead against yours, breaths intermingling in soft pants. Cupping his face, your thumbs run down his cheekbones, looking deeply into his eyes before kissing his lips in a soft peck.

“I love you,” You whisper, eyes clouded with love and affection. Smiling, he kisses your cheek.

Yoru slowly distances himself, pulling his hips away until the tip of his member is the only thing still in contact with your vagina, before thrusting hard into you. The sound of skin against skin is deafening, dirty and exciting for both who are enjoying this act of love, jolting with waves of .

His hips continue to move in a slow but steady rhythm, causing your begs and moans to rush out of your mouth hurriedly. Yoru is nothing but giving, accelerating the pace to your liking and watching in amusement the change in expression on your face.

Shouting his name, Yoru can't take it anymore. The speed increases, pelvis against pelvis, sweat rolling down your chest and seeing your breasts bounce with each thrust into your cunt only makes him lose control.

Nevermind the soft and calm Yoru from before, the moment your moans got to him is when he finally lets loose his mouth.

“You like that, huh? You fucking slut.” Grunting, he raises your legs to rest on his shoulders and bends you over in half. You can’t help but whine in embarrassment because of this position and the words uttered by him. “I bet Gekko didn't fuck you like this, right? I bet he doesn't even know how to please a woman.” 

Your walls clench painfully around his cock at his words. Yoru's eyes roll to the back of his head when your entrance gets tighter, sucking him in. With one of his hands, he starts masturbating you with fast flicks of his wrist, timing it with his thrusts rapidly. 

“Does he even know how good you taste? Or how filthy you are, sucking cock like a desperate whore?” Licking up your neck, he whispers in your ear, “Imagine if he were to see you like this, being fucked by me and cumming around my cock.”

“Ryo, I'm so close, please, so close!” You gasp, feeling your climax approach rapidly with how good Ryo is drilling into you.

“I'm going to fill that pussy of yours with my cum so everyone will know you belong to me.” he warns, a wicked smile tugging on his lips. “I'm going to mark every inch of your body as mine, understood? You’re going to be a good girl and take it all.”

Nodding, your hands hold onto his back, nails running down his back in an attempt to ground yourself, “Your good girl, yes-”

Yoru grunts heavily, loading his cum inside of you and fucking his seed deep inside with weak thrusts, riding his orgasm with closed eyes and mouthing your neck with lovebites. You follow soon after, the stimulation of his cock pushing in his cum and his fingers pressing against your clit is enough to send you over the edge and finally break, moaning his name and hips stuttering with the waves of the climax.

Slumping on top of you, he breathes heavily, trying to get in some air and enjoying the post-orgasmic experience with your hands brushing the hair out of his face gently.

You kiss the top of his head, smooching your way down until all you can reach is his forehead. He hums, raising his eyes and locking gazes silently.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Sticking your tongue out, you pinch on the bare skin of his shoulder, making him jolt in surprise and glare at you with a pout. 

Yoru hovers over your body, resting his body weight on his arms and gives you a peck on the lips before standing up and going to the adjacent bathroom to bring a wet towel. Rolling to your stomach, you cross your arms under your head and watch him walk around freely and naked, admiring the view immensely.

His muscles ripple when he bends over to reach for the towel, watching his back with the mark of your nail alongside scars from past battles. You’ve never noticed, but Yoru with his hair down was a whole nother person to see, giving his sharp features a softer look with his hair framing his eyes and a boyish look that has you melting on the inside.

When he sees you ogling him shamelessly, he can’t help the flush on his cheeks and shyness for being this vulnerable in front of you. He throws the towel to your head to distract himself; that body of yours is enticing in every way possible, and he doesn’t want to look too eager to keep going.

“You’re a degenerate, clean yourself up.”

Laughing, you take the towel and lay down between his pillows to clean between your legs carefully. “Says the pervert who called me, what was it? A whore for your cock? A slut? Your words were colorful there, Ryo.”

Yoru grunts, sitting next to you on bed and stealing the towel from your hands. He makes you scoot closer and starts scooping out the cum oozing from your vagina with gentleness and avoiding it touching his sheets. 

The pressure he applies is enough to spark a new wave of heat on your lower abdomen, biting your lower lip to refrain from sighing out loud when the fabric stimulates you.

His fingers clean the remaining of both of your cum with a gentle brush, fingers caressing around your clit softly and watching your flustered expression focus on what his hands are doing.

Wanting to tease you, he applies pressure on the little nub, making circular motions to heighten the tension and sees you throw your head back. You whine, hips raising to seek the touch desperately. Moving your hand on top of his, you guide his movements from up and down, making his thumb tease your hole and your hips roll against both of your hands.

“Someone wants more of this pervert.” He mutters.

“Ryo…”

Kissing your legs, he licks his lips, discarding the towel to the side and making his way to your core slowly.

“Here comes round two, love.”