#a lot of the little things from the games wouldn’t work when translated to a show

[mayonaisalspray]

That post was right things are really good when you don’t have internet users whispering in your ear about how it sucks

[casualhedonists]

✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter five)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder/violence mention (but no actual murder) , MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, lots of switching between dom/sub dynamics, oral sex, thigh riding, face sitting, degradation, dirty talk, edging/orgasm denial, roughhousing, eventual piv, one chapter specific dubcon scene (pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

chapter: 5/6

words: um. 9.5k (sorry? but also you're welcome??)

chapter warnings: this chapter contains a scene that falls solidly into dubcon territory, so please proceed with caution, stay safe out there.

moodboards

series masterlist

a/n: WELL. here we are, almost at the end of our little rollercoaster ride. i've lost brain cells over this chapter, almost cut it up into smaller chunks, but ended up leaving it as long as i originally planned (longer, in fact. whoops). as always, feedback is very welcome + encouraged (i love hearing/reading your thoughts as things progress) buckle up, please do take note of the dubcon warning, prepare for the angst, and most importantly, enjoy!

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

He was back to ignoring you again.

But this time, the feeling was mutual. You’d never felt as thoroughly rejected as you did the night he had you walk back to your room, legs weak, wrapped in nothing but his shirt.

Once upon a time, this scenario would have been one you dreamed of, but reality often falls flat on its face. You wouldn’t have dreamt of walking away from him like this if you’d known it would feel this empty.

Humiliation ran rampant through your body, starting with the tears you blinked away as you left his room, closing the door behind you, and then flooding over as you stepped into your own room, slumping on the bed, curling up into yourself and weeping, pressing your still aching legs together but too upset to finish yourself off.

You kicked yourself for getting carried away, for getting too loud, too possessive with his face between your thighs and your hand in his hair. For getting so caught up in the moment, briefly forgetting your games, and for believing even for a second that you would be on the same page.

This push and pull had begun to wear you thin, and you were tired. So, you slept. Until nearly midday the next morning, when Lucille knocked on your door to remind you it was time for your monthly PR debrief.

The good news, though arguable at this point, was that your arrangement hadn’t been affected by recent events. At least, not on paper. Cordelia ran you through each gala, public appearance, and dinner, barely noticing your preoccupation, rambling on about speeches, coordinating outfits, dates and times of events, what to say and how to say it.

For you - and you could only imagine, Coriolanus too - everything had changed over the span of a month. 

Your shame made you abnormally quiet, head hung low, gaze averted, nodding along as Cordelia prompted either a response or approval from you. Snow just stared, glancing at her only when completely necessary, but otherwise, he didn’t take his eyes off you.

He was enjoying this. The sick fuck. You were glad when the meeting ended and you could scamper into the library, eager to lose yourself in a story of any kind other than the one you were living.

This went on. By day, you barely looked at him; by night, you tried over and over to prove that your own fingers were enough to keep you satisfied. To convince yourself that you just wanted him, you didn’t need him.

Because if you needed him, then he called the shots. He would win. And victorious as he may seem, the game wasn’t over yet. You’d slipped up in a moment of vulnerability, he’d tricked you into a corner just to prove his point.

You wanted him, you didn’t need him. But if you did… well.

He was going to have to need you more.

You held back this time. Keeping your cards safe, close to your chest. In a strange way, you found a kind of solace in your arrangement. Recent events had caused it to feel unstable, breakable even, but the meeting had ensured that it was all still on the right track. It allowed you to take a small piece of what you wanted from him without guilt or repercussions. After all, it was planned out to benefit you both. Then, when you were ready, and with a gentle hand, you began to weaponise it, loading it up in the barrel of a gun aimed directly at Snow.

You didn't have much left, but you had this. You knew where your promiscuity had led you. This time, you wanted to pull on his heart strings. Make him feel remorse, or whatever similar emotion he was capable of. Make him soften to you. Torture him with almosts that were never enough.

So when you took, you took cautiously, tentatively. You deepened your usually light kisses to what was just past socially acceptable, only to pull back when Snow began to lean in, turning away and smiling at the people surrounding you, or full-on entering into conversation with somebody else. You'd brush your thumb against his when you held hands, waiting for him to look at you, drawing your hand away when he did. You'd offer smiles to everyone but him, talk and laugh a little louder when you could feel him watching.

You pretended he didn’t exist. You could feel him begin to simmer. It wasn't as brazen as your usual game, but it was working.

Until it wasn’t.

“Something’s wrong, what is it?”

Lucille’s face dropped, her shaking hands lowering from the zip she was struggling with. You were getting ready for a luncheon, and you’d picked out an emerald green dress, one of your favorites for daytime events.

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t notice, ma’am. I apologise. It’s my brother, he… it’s getting worse again.”

“Sit down for a second. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You listened to Lucille open up uncomfortably, visibly nervous that you would offer your financial support as you’d done before. But you didn’t, sparing her from having to turn you down.

Lucille was stubborn - she would never accept your charity. She was more than happy to work for her wages, and frequently worked longer hours. As months went by, you’d brought her pay up as high as you could without her noticing. But now things were getting more critical, and you knew there was only one thing you could do.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go and see your brother.”

“But you’re not dressed-”

“I’ll take care of it. Go home, Lucille. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She smiled softly.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

You’d tried with the zip, you really had. You didn’t want to have to knock on Snow’s office door with two favors to ask instead of one, but the dress was tight and the zip kept getting jammed. So, there you stood, dress half undone at the back, heart in your throat. You counted your blessings; at least it wasn’t his bedroom. You didn’t think you could face him at all in there. You heard typing from inside.

“Come in.”

You pushed the door open, feeling like an intruder.

“Sorry, I just… Could you help me with this?” Your hand tightened behind your back, holding the dress together.

He narrowed his eyes. He was already in his suit, typewriter on the desk in front of him.

“Lucille forget how to do her job?”

“I don’t need snide right now. Please, Coriolanus? I’ll explain when I’m not half naked. It’s drafty in here.”

You tried to make it clear in your tone that this wasn’t some ploy. You weren’t sure you had many of those left to offer.

“Fine.” He sighed, and stood, making no motion towards you, so you crossed the room, gripping onto the fabric, turning your back to him.

His hand came to rest on your waist as the other took the zipper, and you tried not to flinch at his touch. You pressed your lips together as he carefully zipped you up, cold metal sending a chill down your spine. Or maybe that was just him. You felt your eyes slide shut and your lips part as his hand lingered on your waist. You couldn’t hear anything but your heartbeat and the tick of his grandfather clock.

“Is that okay? Not too tight?” His breath on your neck gave you goosebumps, you hoped desperately that he wouldn’t notice.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

The second his hand fell from your waist, you missed it. You carefully met his eye; he was looking at you like you had something he wanted.

So why hadn’t he wanted you? You’d been right there, and he’d turned you down.

He cleared his throat.

“I should finish this letter before we leave. Was there anything else?”

You paused.

“Actually, there is. Could I ask you a favor?” You glanced off to the side, suddenly very interested in the knots of wood on his desk. What helped was that you'd never seen inside this room before, and you hid behind your curiosity like it was a lifeline.

“What is it?”

“It’s…” you lowered your voice, “it’s about Lucille. Her brother, actually. He’s in the hospital again. The family can’t afford the medical bills to keep him in for as long as he needs. I’d like to foot the bill, but I can’t do it anonymously. I thought… well, I was wondering if you could pull a few strings.”

You were overexplaining, something you weren’t at all used to doing, but these days, just being in the same room as him made you nervous. You stared at his desk, at the lack of photographs on it, the single pen laying to the side, the smoothness of the glaze.

It was quiet for a moment.

“Consider it done.”

You looked up.

“Really?”

“Did you think I’d say no?” He asked.

“I- no, but…”

“It’s something that matters to you.”

You blinked, dumbfounded at how simply he put it.

“Yes. It is. Thank you, Coriolanus.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll make sure it’s anonymous.”

“Thank you. Or, I mean…”

He looked at you, and you wanted to melt. Wanted to throw strategy out the window, god, but -

You couldn’t. It hadn’t worked last time. You’d hoped to avoid a stalemate, but here you were, sat right in the middle of one.

“The car’s coming in a half hour. Are you almost ready?” He asked.

“Yes. Almost.”

The luncheon was going well, at first. You were at the head of a large table, sat beside Snow, straightening your salad fork as he stood up to make a speech. You’d been glancing at him throughout the afternoon; it wasn’t so hard to anymore. It felt like his willingness to help Lucille without question, just because it was what you wanted, had more of an effect on you in five minutes than the entire week of your teasing had on him. One conversation, and the tides had changed.

As he began talking, you started to realise that your gentler approach may have been affecting you more than it had him. The party was transfixed; people loved to hear him talk, and you were proud. He had a certain way with words; you knew better than anyone. You’d fallen victim to them.

You weren’t sure why his words affected you – you’d been there, you’d agreed when Cordelia had suggested he say something nice about you in this particular speech, really make the crowd swoon, lay it on thick - but when he started to talk about you, about how proud he was to have you by his side, how strong you were-

You knew he was just reciting a script written for him, but you couldn’t help it. The tears began to quietly fall. You thanked whatever higher being was listening for not letting anyone notice.

Or so you thought.

It was just typical that out of all the people that could’ve noticed, the one person who knew better was the only one who did.

The rest of them would’ve brushed it off as you simply being moved by emotion, honored by his kind words. You blinked away your tears, taking small, polite sips of your wine. It was painful because you knew it wasn’t true. None of it was, you knew he could never say those words and mean them.

And he knew that too.

It was dark when you got home, and you trailed behind him awkwardly on your way upstairs.

“Can I have a word?” his voice was gentle, and it set you on edge.

“Sure.”

You stood awkwardly in the hallway, then he led you into the office. He leaned against his desk, and you shifted your feet where you stood, eyes on the floor, on the art on the walls, on anything other than him.

“You were upset today.” He started.

You swallowed.

“It won’t happen again, I promise.” you kept your voice steady. He paused.

“If that was my fault, I apologise. If I took it too far, if I upset you-”

You weren’t sure which part he was talking about, but you finally looked at him in a sort of distant defiance.

“Do you even care if I’m upset?”

“Of course I do. Especially when it’s something that affects you… publicly.”

You huffed, forcing yourself to stare him down.

“Because that’s all that matters, right? What the public sees?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure it is. It’s okay, Snow. I’m a big girl. And I can take a hint, too. So don’t worry about me, I’ll be just fine. Business as usual, right?”

He just stared, puzzled. You took a breath.

“Look, it’s been a long day. Can I go, or are you going to keep me here all night?”

The silence was like smoke, clouding between you. His brow furrowed, calculating. Then he sighed, long and heavy, and you tried not to let it phase you.

“Fine. Go.”

You nodded.

“Goodnight.”

You’d never been more relieved to get away from him. Your broken walls were starting to build back up. You wouldn’t let him break you, you couldn’t. You were stronger than this.

That night, for the first time, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was truly what you wanted.

“Darling, you look ravishing.” Lilian drawled. “It’s a pity Snow is so far across the room, and can’t appreciate you. If I dressed half as nicely as you did, perhaps my dear husband wouldn’t be screwing the maid.”

A scandalised chorus of giggles erupted from the group. It was a pretty dress, one of your best. Long and smooth black fabric, ruched at the waist, with a deep cut up the leg that was just acceptable for an evening gala. You stood tall, champagne glass in hand, gossiping with your friends.

Well.

Friends was being generous. You kept few true friends, and they would hardly be gossiping in a circle like this.

Acquaintances was a better fit. Pawns if you were being brutally honest. Politicians’ wives, senators’ mistresses, a chancellor’s daughter or two. Pieces of chess, really, in this bigger game. Anyone who could help you climb higher, whisper carefully spun words into open ears at your whim.

“I just know George would rip that dress off me the moment I got home. He might not even be able to wait, and just pull me into a closet here instead.”

Another eruption of giggles.

“Well, I’m flattered, my darlings.” You smiled. “This is one of my favorites. Coriolanus treats me well.”

“I’m sure he does,” a suggestive glance from Lilian, “in all the ways one would expect, I assume?”

You gasped in mock modesty.

“Lilian,” you drawled, “I certainly hope you’re not suggesting I disclose our-”

“Oh, just tell us dear, please. We’re all dying to know. You’re always so coy about it. What’s he like?”

You pulled your lips into a knowing smile, your perfectly painted face helping you slide into this facade. You scanned your eyes across the ballroom, across to Snow. He stood talking to a group of men, colleagues of his. You recognised their faces.

It had been four days since the luncheon. Four days since your outburst. Four days of hiding away. You’d been dreading tonight’s gala, but it gave you an excuse to dress nicely, and as soon as you’d arrived, you and Coriolanus has gone your separate ways.

“Well,” you hummed, masking your uncertainty as anticipation, “he can be a slight tease.”

A few dramatic gasps sounded through the group, and you turned back to face them, their eyes wide and expectant.

“Salacious. Do tell.” Another voice piped up with a giggle.

“He can be fun to toy with. I do enjoy pushing back, but sometimes he takes it… a little far.” You said carefully.

“My, who would have known? But you get what you want, my dear, surely.” Lilian asked.

You smiled, glancing back at him, suit pristine with a white rose in his breast pocket. You hated how good he looked. He was smiling politely at the group of men around him, but you could tell from the tick in his jaw that something was bothering him.

“Sometimes, I do. Others, I wait for my chance to push his buttons right back.”

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? I don’t suppose,” she pressed, “that you’re in one of those… entanglements at the moment?”

“Lilian, darling, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Another giggle sounded from the group.

“Oh, my.” Lilian repeated, glancing between the two of you. “I do hope you’ve been making him suffer.”

“Well, I’m playing a longer game this time, so I’m afraid there hasn’t been as much fun lately.”

Lilian sucked in a breath, like the perfect idea had just dawned on her.

“Well, I see no moment like the present. You’re here, you’re dressed marvellously, I propose you walk right over there and show him just what he’s missing.”

A chorus of yes and do it and we’ll cheer you ons rang out. Loosened by the champagne, you looked across the room at him again. You could do it. He wouldn’t be able to react, it would be the most perfect torture. You suddenly decided that you were done making small moves, done playing it safe like this was some schoolgirl crush. It was time to step up to the mark again. Take your power back.

Your group could sense the newfound determination in you. You smiled, slow and cunning.

Show him what he’s missing.

Simple. It’s what you did best.

“Watch and learn, ladies.”

A hush fell over the group as they watched you run a hand through your hair, handed your glass to one of them, and pressed your lips together. Before you’d left the house you’d added a swipe of red lipstick, dark red, almost bloodlike. It always made you feel more confident and tonight, you needed the pick me up.  

The middle of the ballroom was practically empty; the dancing was over, and everyone had long since gathered in groups to the sides. So you turned heads when you stepped out, the only one on the floor, black satin hugging your frame like a second skin. You didn’t look at them, you made a steady beeline to Snow. You felt more and more eyes on you as you crossed the room, heels clicking on the floor. They all watched, waiting for… something. Coriolanus didn’t look up until you were a mere few steps away, now deep in some conversation he was going to forget very shortly.

Blue eyes flashed to yours with a confused apprehension, but you didn’t give yourself time to think about the twitch of his brow, or the looks on the faces of his colleagues. You didn’t think about the way he opened his mouth as if to say something, only for it to be swallowed away.

You didn’t think about any of that.

Because your lips were on his.

Hot and hungry, teeth clashing, your hand grabbing the back of his neck as he leaned in, surprised at first, then warm, wanting. Lips tugging at yours like he was starving.

It was sinful.

You’d never been kissed like this before. Your fuzzy brain wondered how you’d gone through life not knowing what this felt like, the press of his lips devouring yours, heated and messy.

He kissed you like breathing, like you were his oxygen supply. His hand slid to your waist and pulled you in, and you heard the echoes of chuckling coming from around you, morphing into a few light claps.

Then, just as you felt him fully melt into you, your hand slipped higher to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of perfect platinum curls, and tugged.

It was nothing but an affectionate display to the people surrounding you, but a brazen reminder between the two of you. It was your way of showing you hadn’t forgotten, that you wouldn’t be made to feel ashamed, to cower in a corner while he got the better of you.

Not in this lifetime.

The second it happened, his breath hitched, and his hand tensed on your waist. You were the only one who caught it, getting high off the satisfaction, finally pulling away.

You weren’t sure you’d ever seen a prettier sight; his blown-out eyes, his face stained with scarlet.  

How’s that for tasting your own medicine.

Watching him attempt to collect himself was sweeter still. Watching him reset his face into one of distant amusement. He let out a small laugh, glanced at the rest of the party.

“Everything alright, doll? Had a little much champagne, perhaps?”

His colleagues chuckled, but you didn’t look their way. You stood your ground. Offered a sweet smile, but he could see your slyness.

“Oh, I’m swell. And I think I’ve had just enough, actually. I’m gonna go freshen up.”

You turned on your heel and made your way through winding halls to the bathroom, riding an adrenaline high. You picked up a glass from a server’s tray along the way – the champagne had dried out, all they were serving now was posca, which while disgusting, worked a treat to take the edge off. It wasn’t long before the door swung open and you saw Coriolanus appear behind you in the mirror.

“This is the ladies’ room, handsome.” You looked away, continuing to reapply your lipstick.

He stepped closer.

“What was that kiss about, sweetheart?” Straight to the point.

“Nothing.” You shrugged.

“Didn’t feel like nothing.”

“That’s called acting, Snow.”  You rolled your eyes, vaguely aware that your words sounded a little jumbled. You put the tube of lipstick away. “We had an audience. A rather expectant one at that.”

He folded his arms.

“I don’t like it when you catch me off guard like that. Not with people around.”

“Seemed to like it plenty to me.” You mumbled.

He didn’t answer, pacing past you to the other sink, grabbing a towel and wiping it against his face, where the red had stained his skin. It only served to spread it around further, and if you weren’t already smugly entertained by the marks you’d left on him, now it was just plain funny.

He glared at you when you laughed.

“Don’t give me that look. Here,” you offered, stepping across to him, taking the towel and wetting it, “let me.”

You wiped at a patch, but he snatched the towel back and took over.

“No, you’re rubbing it too hard. It’s-” he glowered at you – “fine. Do it your way.”

You went back to lean against your sink and took another sip of posca, admiring the ornate decorations in the room. A little excessive, a little new money for your tastes.

There was a rap on the door.

“President Snow?”

“Just a minute.” He said coolly.

“You’re in a mood tonight.” You remarked, and he huffed.

“Running a country can get exhausting. Don’t expect you to understand.”

“Right.” You said flatly. “Because I’m just a brainless pawn like everybody else.”

He looked over at you, at the drink in your hand.

“How many of those have you had?”

You shrugged again, and he tossed the towel into the sink, walking over to you.

“Answer me.” His voice was stern, and for a second, you soaked it in, drenched in the danger as he approached, closing in. Your tongue slipped out to wet your lips, and your eyes followed his as he moved to stand in front of you.

“Shame you don’t have someone to let all that frustration out on, isn’t it? Sounds like that could be helpful.”

His eyes pierced yours.

“Doll-”

“I’m just saying, it’s a pity you don’t.” You moved to bring the glass to your lips, anticipating the burn in your throat, but he gently stopped your hand.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Posca? It’s my first glass.” You smiled, eyes batting.

“You know what I mean. I think you should stop.”

You looked at the glass, then back at him, and pried your hand away, slowly and pointedly taking another sip.

“Sweetheart.” He warned.

“What, are you punish me? Gonna make me beg for you then kick me out again? Already did that once.”

He gave an incredulous half-laugh.

“That’s what this is about? You’re not really going to be mad about that forever, are you?”

“That depends. How long is forever?”

The door knocked again, and he worked the glass out of your hand.

“Drink some water. Sober up. We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

You sighed, heading for the door, but glanced back at him, his face still a stained mess. You brushed a finger against your own cheek to mirror his.

“You missed a spot.”

You sat in silence in his office, feeling a little like a schoolchild caught misbehaving. His typing was the only sound in the room. The seat was low; almost as if it was there to point out his authority over anyone who sat in it. Knowing him, it probably was.

He’d managed to clean off the rest of your lipstick, but his face looked rubbed raw, uncomfortable. A tall glass of water sat on the desk in front of you.

“Thought you said we’d talk.”

“Not until you finish that glass. I’m not talking to you inebriated.”

“Seriously?”

He shot you a look from behind his typewriter.

“Fine. Whatever.” You reached for it and took a few sips. He looked back down again. A few folders cluttered the desk, and in your boredom, your eyes scanned them. They looked complicated; legal.

“What are you writing there anyway? Or am I too dumb to understand?”

He offered another unimpressed glance.  

“It’s a new bill I’m trying to pass. Except apparently, I’m the only one around here with their head screwed on enough to work on it.”

You waited as Snow pushed the typewriter’s lever, carriage sliding the page as he began writing the next line. You sipped your water.

He sighed. “One day I won’t have to mingle with these idiots anymore. They’ll just listen to me, and obey.”

You took that in.

“Do you feel that way about me?”

He studied you for a second, and stopped typing.  

“No. Not really.”

“But you wish I’d be more… compliant.” You stared at the floor.

“Not necessarily.”

“You sure? Didn’t seem to like it the other night.”

His eyes narrowed. Knowing this conversation was a game of chess like any other. But lately the stakes were higher than ever.

“Never said I didn’t like it. Just that you were out of line.”

“And where is that fucking line?” You snapped. “I’m serious, Snow, because we’ve never talked about it.”

“You want to talk, all of a sudden? Okay, sweetheart. Fire away.”

You put the glass down on the table, heavier than intended.

“I just don’t understand you, Coriolanus. I mean, first you don’t want me, then you do want me, then you don’t again. And now what? I don’t know what I’m supposed to think when you don’t give me anything to go off.”

He watched you carefully, and you wanted to shake him, to scream, anything that would give you answers. You stood, unable to sit still, and started pacing.

“You know what’s worse? I don’t even know if you want me here anymore. I don’t know how to act around you because I never know what you’re thinking. At first I thought all this, the whole push and pull, was just some control thing. But-” you laughed, airy and insane, “you know what I realised? You’ve had me fooled, Snow. All this time I thought we were equals, but now I think I finally realise.”

He frowned, waiting for you to continue.

“You pay for my company, if you think about it. We trade services, don’t we? You get something from me, I get something back. I live in your house, eat your food, wear nice clothes. At the end of the day, that’s just it, isn’t it?”

“What?”

You shrugged, tears filling your eyes as bitterness took over, so strong you could almost taste it.  

“I’m no better than a whore myself.”

You’d never heard a louder silence. If that hadn’t just taken everything out of you, you’d have begged him to say something. Instead, you just stared, eyes blurry with tears, as he seconds seemed to stretch into minutes, and you gave up trying to read his mind, because his expression was indecipherable.  

After what felt like hours, he took a long breath.

“Sit down.”

You glanced at the floor, then took a step towards your chair. He stopped you.

“Not there. Here.” He nodded at the desk in front of him, and you swallowed thickly, stepping around the desk, getting awfully close to him, and pulling yourself onto the desk, legs pressed together. He stood, looking down at you. 

“That’s really what you think of yourself?” He asked, voice steady and controlled.

You kept your eyes averted.

“Am I wrong?”

He lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips against your jaw, tipping your head up to look at him. And when you looked at his eyes, you knew exactly what he was feeling. He wasn’t hurt, or upset.

He was mad.

“Tell me something. What do you think I’d do if I heard someone talking about you that way?

“I don’t-”

“I’d have them executed. And you expect me to stand by and let you talk about yourself like that?”

You felt a tear spill down your cheek.

“I don’t know, Coriolanus, you tell me. Am I disposable to you?”

“Of course not."

“But you’d replace me if I left.”

“What makes you think I’d let you leave in the first place?”

A chill caressed your spine.

“That’s right. I’m keeping you here, doll. If I made you doubt that, I apologise. But you’re no whore. Though sometimes, I…” He trailed off.

“What?”

His eyes were on your lips again, hungry. You wondered how someone could switch from distant to depraved and wanting this quickly.

“Sometimes I wish you were. Because it’d make it a lot easier for me to take what I want. If you were, then I’d have no hesitation in ripping your clothes off right here. Fucking you on my desk, or up against the wall, not caring if you cum. Not caring if you enjoy it. If you were a whore, I’d have fucked you in every room in this house, twice over. I wouldn’t let you sleep.”

His hand was on your thigh, the now-creased fabric of your dress crumpling as it slid up. You weren’t sure when your eyes had fallen shut, your hot breath mixing with his as his thumb rubbed against your skin.

Your voice was pathetically quiet.

“Then why don’t you?”

He sighed, tone shifting into something tense, something you could cut through with a knife.

“Because you’re fucking impossible, you know that? I can barely think when you’re around. I don’t know where the games begin or end. I don’t… I don’t understand this power you have over me. I thought you knew, you must know that you’re under my skin. I don’t know if you’ll ever stop playing with me. It drives me fucking insane.”

You opened your eyes, hand gripping his wrist and pulling it from your thigh. You slid off the desk and took a step away from him.

“You think I’m playing with you? The only time you pay an ounce of attention to me is when you’re trying to fuck with my head, Snow. I said my piece, you heard me and you still didn’t care. So please, for both our sakes, stop torturing me. Just… come find me when you decide you want me again, okay? Let’s leave it at that.”

You made for the door, which you slammed with such an impressive force that it even took you aback.

You replayed his words in your head that night until you fell into a deep sleep, and when you woke, you felt like your dreams made more sense than he did.

“Tigris!” you exclaimed, catapulting into the blonde’s arms. The people who stood scattered around you in the manor’s large ballroom spun their heads around at your display. A few even dodged to the side as the momentum that you’d built running down the stairs nearly knocked her over.

A few days of silent glances and fewer exchanged words had passed. And now, you were just happy to be hosting in the comfort of your own home, and to finally see Tigris again. You wondered if she noticed how you hugged her, if she wondered - like you did - if you’d ever let go.

“I’m so happy you’re here. How’s your Grandma’am?”

“She’s quite well, she’s sorry she couldn’t make it. You look beautiful as ever. It’s been too long!”

“I know! I don’t think I’ve seen you since your birthday, which makes me the worst friend ever.” You groaned, scrunching up your face in shame.

“It’s okay! I know busy Coriolanus keeps you with all these functions. You must be going out of your mind by now. How are you holding up?”

The two of you walked to the edge of the room, where prying eyes had settled down after your greeting.

You looked at Snow, stood across the ballroom, dressed in a pristine suit with a champagne glass in hand, talking to yet another group of men who worked for him – ministers and such, a little higher ranking than the group from the other night – and spared you the occasional glance. As if he was keeping tabs on you. It wasn’t long before Tigris caught on and politely inquired.

“I don’t understand him, Tigris. I think he hates me.” You sighed.

“What? No, he could never. He has a soft spot for you, really, and I have it on good authority.”

“I’m not so sure anymore. I think I’ve pushed it a little far this time. I think… maybe we both did. I’m in uncharted waters, here.”

“Look, I know I don’t know all the ins and outs of how this thing between you works, but I don’t think he could ever hate you for doing anything. Coryo – I mean, Coriolanus, he does care, contrary to popular belief. It’s just that his way of showing it can get a little…”

“Fucked?” You offered, and she laughed.

“Yes, exactly. Now, I’m not going to lie to you and say that he’s an angel on earth, he’s had to do things to get to where he is now. Things that even I don’t know the extent of, and they’ve… changed him.”

You rarely got the chance to speak with Tigris alone these days, with Snow usually playing chaperone, or keeping one or the both of you busy, but it had always been easy to slide right back into conversation with her like you’d never been apart.

You’d first met Tigris at a Plinth gala years ago, on the same day you’d met Snow. The two of you had talked and laughed and she had an easiness around her, she wasn’t shallow and judgemental like a lot of the girls you’d grown up with, though you never knew why until many months later. Snow had placed a large wall between his life before the Plinth endorsement, and after. Few people knew the conditions he’d grown up in, but after countless hours with Tigris, you’d begun to assemble small pieces. Despite your closeness with her, you knew from her warnings that Snow had a sort of temper when it came to this topic, so you approached it with caution.

“Changed him how?” You inquired, finally.

“Well… It wasn’t always fancy balls and lunches with him. It never was, with any of us, as you know, but especially for him. He’s… had a different experience. Grandma’am and I, we’ve known hard times, but we haven’t seen what he’s seen. Not even close.”

“What kind of things?”

She glanced over her shoulder, making sure nobody was hovering.

“He’d kill me for telling you.”

“You know I won’t say a word. But you don’t have to tell me, if it’s too much to ask.”

 She took in a breath, and sipped her drink, voice dropping to a whisper.

“This stays between us, okay? Coriolanus has… been out there. In the districts, I mean. Before all this. And I can’t go into detail, he’d have my head if I…”

You swallowed.

“The districts? But… why? I don’t-”

“Tigris, lovely to see you, it’s been so long.” A male voice interrupted, and you quickly excused yourself, slipping away to let the two of them talk.

After mulling it over in your head and making small talk with a few more guests, you snuck out of a side door and into the hallways, winding upstairs until you were finally met with Snow’s bedroom door. The sound of voices and music a mere echo below you, you pushed tentatively, and stepped inside. It was strange, being in there alone, for the first time since he’d turned you away. But you paced the floor, looking for something, anything, that would answer the questions you had. Why the districts? Why couldn’t Tigris tell you what had happened there?

Glancing back at the door, you began thumbing through his closet, peeking inside drawers. You’d already given his room a once over, but you worked more meticulously this time, every corner you unsuccessfully turned over only fuelling your curiosity. You walked around the room again, getting frustrated.

You headed back to the door, scanning the place, and retraced your steps a third time. Knocking a little on cupboards and anything that appeared the slightest bit odd or out of place. It was a perpetually tidy room, neat as ever, save for the desk which contained folders you were sure weren’t for your eyes, but that didn’t stop you. You kept on, trying your best not to leave any stone unturned, and most importantly, trying not to move anything out of place.

Eventually, you moved to the smaller desk drawers again, rifling through them haphazardly, annoyed by the lack of evidence you were finding. One of the two drawers had very little inside it, just a pencil and a pocket dictionary, and as you pushed your hand further inside to feel for anything else, you noticed it felt smaller than the first. Shallower. When you knocked, it was hollow.

It had a false bottom.

Your father used to keep his cigars beneath one of these when you were growing up, so you knew what to look for. You felt around the edge until you touched a small, metal handle, then emptied the drawer, hooked your fingers into the handle and pulled. You frowned at first, there was less in the hidden compartment than there was above it. But you peered inside, and there lay two items: an old photograph, and a silver dog tag.

Suddenly, it all made sense. His efficiency, his drive, his orderliness.

Military. The districts. The dog tag.

You unfolded the photograph, caked in a layer of dust, and it hit you like a ton of rocks.  

Coriolanus was a peacekeeper.

But why? When? And why keep it a secret?

In the photograph, his hair was buzzed, and he was in a uniform you recognised immediately; if only because of the annual reaping ceremony shown in every building in the Capitol. He was standing next to a boy with dark hair, also buzzed. You recognised him as Sejanus Plinth, you’d never met the kid but you’d been to his funeral with your family, and had seen enough pictures to know.

You knew that the Plinth family had backed Coriolanus’ education, that he became their new heir, a protégé of sorts, but not that he’d been friends with their son. Not that they’d been this close, at least. They weren’t smiling in the photo, stood pin straight and alert in what looked like barracks.  

You folded the photograph and placed it back where you found it. Your hands lingered on the dog tag, though, despite the logical side of your brain screaming at you to put it back, leave the room and pretend you didn’t see this. But the louder part egged you on as you pulled it out of the drawer, examining the engraved words, running your hands over the name SNOW and, further down, DISTRICT 12.

You’d heard bedtime stories from your mother while growing up, about the war, the Hunger Games and why they existed, and why it was never safe to set foot in the districts, not even the richer ones.

They’re beneath us, she’d said. They’re dangerous. Barbaric. And 12 was notoriously the poorest, most dangerous of them all.

Coriolanus had now become more of an enigma to you than ever before, and a thousand new questions flooded your head.

You closed the drawer halfway, holding the chain, pulling out a chair in front of the mirror to sit down. You turned the tag over in your hands, as if it would start giving you the answers, if only you looked hard enough.

Why was he sent to 12? Why couldn’t he talk about it?

Despite the conditions Snow grew up in, there was respect behind his family name. It didn’t make sense why someone of his social standing and education would leave to be a peacekeeper, of all things, and in 12, of all places. A strange sort of pity filled you, wondering what he could’ve seen out there. What he could’ve done. It all drew you in as you got lost in a world of what ifs.

Despite yourself, you pushed your hair from your neck, and as if in a trance, wrapped the chain around it. It fell heavy and cold against your skin, sending a chill through your bones. You were so busy staring down at it, so lost in thought that you barely noticed the sound of the door pushing open. Or the floorboards lightly creaking. Or his reflection in the mirror. You didn’t notice any of that, until the door swung shut with a bang.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Coriolanus had had a long day, most of which he’d spent simmering over work and you. He’d kept his eye on you that evening; on the way you’d thrown yourself into Tigris’ arms, and talked, transfixed, and he hated not knowing what was being said. A strange feeling set in as he saw the two of you get deeper into conversation from the other side of the large room, a deep-seated uneasiness stirring him up as he drowned out the tales of his associates’ incompetence. It felt like a breath of relief when he sent someone your way to interrupt whatever talk you were having, pretending that Tigris had been looking for him earlier. He focused on your brief tour of the room when the distraction worked, eyes flitting around like you were preoccupied.

When he saw you dart away from the ballroom and up one of the stairwells, he followed you as soon as he got the chance.

He’d wondered if you might act up today, but this wasn’t what he was expecting. When he saw you, the all too familiar glint of silver around your pretty neck, something shifted in him. Something he’d done a very, very good job of keeping at bay during his first few years of presidency.

Rage.

Your eyes met his in the mirror.

“Coriolanus, I-”

His hands were on you before you could finish your sentence, hauling you out of the chair, fingers wrapped in a death grip around your arms, squeezing as he pushed you to the wall with a satisfying thud.

“What, you can explain? I highly doubt that.”

“I’m sorry, I just-” You gasped as he squeezed tighter, gripping your wrists.

“Do you even know what this means?” He seethed, dog tag pressed between his fingers, chain pulling at your neck.

The forest. The birds. The gunshots that deafened him for weeks.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry. I never knew you were a peacekeeper, Coryo, I-” He flinched, saw the way you winced the second it passed your lips.

Snow may have been cold, but his eyes were fire. And you were only stoking it.

“So I’m Coryo now? Who the fuck told you call me that? Was it Tigris? I saw you talking to her, don’t lie to me.”

“No.” You shook your head. “She didn’t tell me anything, I promise. Please. It was just me.”

He moved in closer, eclipsing you altogether, grip on the chain so tight he was certain you’d be able to feel it pinching the back of your neck, digging a mark into your flesh. He let the sadistic part of his brain take delight in it, in the way your eyes widened, face pleading.

Whatever this game was between you, you’d gone too far this time.

“How did you find this?” He snapped.

You were crowded against the wall, unable to move. Tears started to brim, and you didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure you could. You just shook your head over and over, repeating I’m sorry like a broken record.

“Take this off. Now. Take it off.” He ordered, dropping it back to your chest, stepping away a little so you could lift your shaking arms over your head, removing the chain. He snatched it from you, gripping it in his palm, looking down at it, and you breathed out in relief.

“I didn’t mean to… I was just looking. I had so many questions. I didn’t know what I’d find.”

“And? Are you fucking satisfied now?” His voice chilled you to the bone as he looked up at you again.

You shook your head. Apologised again. Wished you could apologise in any way that would matter, but it was too late. You’d never been more afraid in your life, anticipating what might happen, remembering echoes of rumors you’d heard, of Snow poisoning his enemies, of sending them to hang. Some you knew to be true, but others you boiled down to rebel gossip.

Now, you weren’t so sure. These were the eyes of a man who’d dropped his mask, and it was like staring into a dark void. You could get lost in it, and never find your way back.

“Please. Don’t… I won’t tell anyone, I promise. You can trust me.”

He scoffed.

Stupid girl. Hadn’t you learned by now, that trust meant nothing?

“Like I trusted you in here? I don’t think so. Can’t believe you had me feeling sorry for you. Probably just made it up so you could lower my guard then turn around and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I didn’t, Coriolanus, I swear.” You pleaded. You were crying, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’ve been very patient with you, little girl. But this is where I draw the line. You have no idea how far you’ve pushed me. And you don’t even realise it, you’re so caught up in your little crush. Do you know how easy I’ve been going on you? The things I’ve let you get away with… I’ve killed people for much less.”

“You’ve…” You trailed off, barely hearing your own words, barely processing a thing. He laughed, low and dark.

“Does that scare you, sweetheart? Does it make you afraid?”

Eyes frozen open, you just stared. You felt your jaw go slack.

“Good.”  

Coriolanus toed an invisible line, one that had never been crossed before. You wanted him to show you he wanted you? Fine.

He looked down at the chain wrapped around his fist, but he didn’t pocket it, or place it to the side. He unwound it, and slowly pulled it over his own neck.

Your eyes dropped to where it sat in stark contrast, heavy and shining, garish against his fancy dress shirt. You felt your blood run cold.

“Get on your knees.” You heard him say. Your eyes darted back up.

“What?”

When he spoke, it sounded like someone else was talking. Someone you didn’t know at all.

“You heard me. Get on your fucking knees. Right now.”

What could you do? This was what you’d wanted. Just… not like this. Not when your hands were shaking in fear, and you had no idea what this Coriolanus was capable of.

Your head said yes; your heart wept. But you were far past listening to your sorry heart.

So, you obeyed. Legs all but giving in as you lowered yourself to the ground, knees meeting cold hardwood as the chill cut through your dress.

His fingers slipped under one of the straps.

“Take this off, baby.” He murmured, distant, like he wasn’t all there. Your head hung in shame, eyes on his feet as you pushed the straps from your shoulder, top half of the dress falling down. You heard his zipper slide down, and you shivered. No longer sure if it was in fear or anticipation.

“Head up. Look at me. Good,” he said, when you obliged, “now let’s see what this pretty mouth’s really good for, shall we?”

More tears welled up as his hand brushed your jaw, hooking a thumb to your bottom lip, pushing your mouth open. You couldn’t help the way your tongue grazed over it, tasting salt, whining when you realised it was the taste of your own tears. When your eyes fell open again, you finally caught a look at him, hard and tip weeping, and your brain filled with nothing but want, eclipsing your fear for a mere second, enough to bring Coriolanus to the ground again. He may have done terrible, unspeakable things, but he was still a man. A man who wanted you.

And why did that make your heart beat out of your chest? It thrummed like a hummingbird as you took in the sight of him, unbuttoning his shirt as he waited for you to move.

You’d seen how big he was from a distance. You’d felt him between layers of fabric, and you’d imagined this a million times over. But now, as he stood waiting in front of you, you hesitated, because it all finally felt real. Your mouth watered despite yourself, seeing the mess he’d already made, any more and he’d start dripping -

“Go on, sweetheart. It’s not gonna suck itself.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you let him past your lips. The heady taste of precum filled your mouth as you ran your tongue along the shaft slowly, trying to start steady. He wasn’t having it. His hand twisted through your hair, pulling you in closer, making you gag a little. You instinctively lifted a hand up to his thigh to brace yourself, and he laughed.

“Giving up so soon? Thought you’d try harder than that.”

He pushed further, and the indignant sound you made as you adjusted only served to spur him on.

You tried to focus on breathing through it, but he slipped in and out your mouth unevenly, and faster than you could think, catching you off guard. He looked down at the way your mouth struggled to take his length as if you were a piece of art, like he was mesmerised by it, and that feeling was encouragement was enough to keep you going. His hand twisted harder in your hair, making a fist, and he swore when you hummed in discomfort.

“Look at you.” He said, strung-out and shaky. “You strut right in here from your silver spoon life, and think you can call the shots? You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, sweetheart. You have no fucking idea what the world is really like. What people are like. What they have to do to survive.”

He moved faster, and you let your jaw go slack. You were barely moving now, he was starting to fuck your throat like he owned it. You’d started to cry again, and when you looked up at him, it was a blur. The furthest you could see was his chest, shirt unbuttoned and falling to the sides, and the dog tag, silver catching in the low light, swinging against his chest as he moved. You closed your eyes again, trying to go somewhere else in your head. Trying to breathe through your nose, to focus on being used, on how good you were making him feel, on finally being his. It was all you had left to hold on to.

But he was unwinding you with his words, knowing just where to press to make it sting, to make the tears fall harder.

“You don’t have any fucking shame about it either. Touching yourself on my bed and wearing my clothes, like you’re – fuck, that’s it - like we’re married or something. Like you’re worth more than everyone else. But look at you. Maybe you were right after all. Maybe you are my whore.” he gritted out.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried desperately to catch your breath between sobs.  

“I mean, you sure look like it now, on your knees for me, making a mess of your pretty face. So fucking good. You’re sucking me off better than she did, and you’re barely even trying.”

You hated it. Hated the way his thumb brushed painfully gently against your cheek, dusting away a tear as his cock bruised the back of your throat and you tried not to gag around him. Hated the way his words twisted around in your head, and how fucked up it was that your broken brain took it as praise instead of punishment.

Most of all, you hated the throb between your shaking legs, panties soaked through and probably ruined. Humiliation seeped through you as you imagined it dripping down your legs and onto the floor. Your salty tears spilled down your face, mixing with your spit and his precum. Hating every second, until your head went blank, and you didn’t feel much of anything anymore.

You weren’t sure exactly how it happened.

One second, he was pulling your hair, twitching in your mouth and spilling down your throat, and the next, in what felt like a flash, you were on the floor, loud, wrecked sobs spilling out of you as you held your knees to your chest, face hidden. He was on the floor too - when did he get down? - and his voice was soft, oh so soft and gentle, saying something you couldn’t quite make out, dull and repetitive past your ringing ears.

“- so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby. I know I - I didn’t… I took it too far. Can you hear me, sweetheart? Look at me. Please, look at me. I’m right here.”

You pulled your head from your hands, and through blurred eyes, you looked at him.

This wasn’t a face you’d seen on him before. His brows knitted, lips apart as he stared at you, like you were some wounded animal he wanted to save.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Please.”

“I can’t…” You trailed off.

“You can tell me.”

Another wave of choked back sobs took over you. He held your jaw up like you were something breakable. Like maybe you’d broken already, and he was holding you together.

“I can’t do this.” You whispered. “Not like-”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek.

“Okay. It’s okay, baby. Tell me what I can do for you. Just say the word.”

You caught your breath, and he flinched a little as you collapsed into his arms. The cool metal of the dog tag pressed into your cheek.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.” You cried.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t realise how far I’d pushed you until… I know I can’t make it up to you, but I’ll try. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. If you want to leave, I understand. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“What? No, that’s not…”

He cut you off, looking into your eyes.

“Decide tomorrow, okay doll? You don’t have to think about that now.”

“I didn’t know about… about the districts.” You hiccupped. “About you. You didn’t want me to know. I ruined everything, I-”

“Listen to me. It doesn’t matter anymore, I promise you. It’s okay, baby.”

You nodded into his chest.

“Here.” He leaned away from you, and you looked up in a question. He took the chain from his neck and placed it in your palm.

“You can have it. So long as nobody sees. You can throw it away, wear it around the house, whatever you want. It’s yours.”

You pressed it between your fingers. It cooled your hot skin like a salve.

“Thank you.” You whispered. Your head sank back onto his chest, and when you spoke again, it was barely audible.

“Coryo?”

He tensed for a second, but relaxed again just as quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

His hand brushed gently against your hair, and you relaxed into it.

“Of course you can.”

a/n: baby's first dubcon scene!! (screams cries and throws up bc navigating that was scary as fuck) p.s one more chapter left!! do we think they'll get their shit together?? who knows!! (i know)

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii @tqmqkii @not-avery @natsgf @sleepysongbirdsings @hopebaker @darknight3904 @pemberlystateofmind @bxtchopolis @real-lana-del-rey @24kmar @louweasleymalfoy @m1ndbrand @coconut-dreamz @cosmicgyral @urfavevirgoo @mk15x @theamuz @ashy-kit @violante777 @snowlandstop @badbleep88

(more tags in the reblogs/comments)

if you’d like to be tagged, pls comment on the series masterlist (helps me keep track of everyone!!) 💌

[cupidbedsy]

୨୧ the hoodie ; lh43

➪ summary: she'd always thought she wasn't pretty enough for luke, but that all changes with an invitation to the hughes' lake house and luke's hoodie

➪ warnings: reader is insecure/insecurities, reader compares herself to other girls

➪ word count: 3.1k

➪ cupid's notes: i have to say, this is by far one of my favorite fics I've written and by the previous feedback and support i got for it, i would assume it's one of your favorites of mine as well. this is for my mid/plus-sized girlies, coming from one. i hope you all enjoy this one again! :)

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

A lot of the time it felt like that was the only feature people noticed about her. Not that she was funny, or smart, or insanely good at making a spreadsheet for anything and everything. It was the fact that she was fat, or excuse people’s language, curvy. It had been what labeled her for her whole life it seemed like. And no matter how hard she tried to stop it from happening, it never did. 

She heard the whispers every time she was in the hallways in high school, every time she sat down and the chair would creek even the slightest bit, every time she’d accidentally brush someone’s shoulder. It was horrible, something that would haunt her for years to come no matter what happened. 

When she went off to college, her voice was the only one that stayed with her. She met Luke through mutual friends and while she loved their relationship, she always thought it put a damper on her mind especially when she realized she liked him. Luke was Luke, he was tall, handsome, adorable, cute, charming, and all of the above. And on the inside, he was funny, smart, kind, nice, everything a girl could ever love. He made it impossible not to fall for him.

But why would Luke want her, when he could have anyone he ever wanted? This put a strain on their friendship during sophomore year especially. She would go to games, supporting the hell out of him because he asked her to be there. And always somewhere further down the row, in a different section, wherever, there was a group of girls who looked nothing like her in her opinion. They were skinny, and pretty, they wore outfits that looked not only good on them but just good in general. 

They were standing there, looking like that, while she looked like this. Wearing leggings that were too tight to make her look thinner, they pressed too hard on her stomach. Wearing the largest sweatshirt in her closet to hide the way her hips bulged a little, to hide everything if she was honest. And while she knew it shouldn’t have bothered her, that she shouldn’t have been mad at them, she couldn’t help it.

However, when she was around him and it was just the two of them, she couldn’t help but notice the thoughts dissipate. There was something about him that made her forget what she was thinking, forget what she was feeling besides happiness. He made her feel beautiful even if he didn’t know it. 

But, when he went away to New Jersey, there was no one to block out those thoughts anymore. Every day she thought negative things about herself, and compared herself to her friends, to those she passed on the way to class, those in the dining hall, everyone. She was left feeling alone with her thoughts, which made her feel all the worse. 

In the weeks following her last day of class, she got a text from Luke. He had asked her to go to the lake house in Michigan. She wasn’t expecting it, to say the least. It meant that she would have to spend at least a week around Luke and his brothers and their friends in shorts and shirts. The things that made her uncomfortable when she was alone. 

She reluctantly agreed to his invitation and the only reason she did agree was because she knew Luke wouldn’t stop texting her and calling her until she said yes. She didn’t like summer, it meant that she couldn’t resort to her long sleeves and leggings due to the temperature. It was too hot for that. At least when she was at her own house, it wasn’t bad, she could do that and wouldn’t be hot due to her being able to set the house to a cooler temperature. 

But, Luke was Luke, and it was hard to ignore him. They hadn’t seen each other since he left for New Jersey, keeping up only through texts and FaceTime (which was not her favorite thing in the world). So, when that text came through that she had said yes to coming, he was bouncing off the walls for hours. He had run to tell Jack and Quinn, immediately, yelling at them to get a room set up for her and to make Trevor and Cole or whoever share one. 

It was rare that Luke got excited to see someone besides his brothers and his closest friends, so when Quinn and Jack heard him rambling a million miles an hour, they knew that this “friend” was special. Luke picked her up from the airport, having flown in from her home state. He was quick to bring her bags to the car for her, open up the passenger side door, and everything in between.

When he saw what she was wearing, he curled an eyebrow, “Aren’t you hot?”

“W-what? No.”

“Y/n/n, you’re wearing a literal sheep right now and it’s like 80 degrees.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m quite comfy.”

“Whatever you say.” He muttered but he made sure to turn the AC on full blast so she wouldn’t overheat more than she already was.

Y/n was trying to prolong the time she would have to be around Luke, and his brothers and their friends, in shorts and t-shirts and tank tops. And while she knew it was going to have to happen soon, it didn’t mean that it had to happen now. She was beyond grateful that Luke turned the AC on, it was a blessing in disguise. 

When they pulled up to the house, he wasted no time in doing the same things he did at the airport; grabbing her luggage, opening her door, and leading her up the steps. He opened the door with his elbow and pushed it open with his back, or well more or less his butt. Y/n giggled at the action and stepped inside after him, looking around in disbelief, “Can’t believe you get to spend every summer here.”

“Yeah, kind of lucky to have two-”

“Heads up!”

The two turned to see Jack hurling a football in their direction and Luke dropped her things to catch it. Due to Luke’s reaction time, he spared his best friend from getting hit in the face, “Dude!”

Y/n stood in shock, blinking even as Luke’s hand was taken away from her face. Jack winced, “Sorry.”

Luke threw it back at him and hit him square in the head, “Well, that’s Jack, which means…”

As he trailed off two more voices and two pairs of footsteps came from the hallway, “Cole and Trevor aren’t too far behind him. Blonde one is Cole, the douchey-looking one is Trevor.”

“Douchey?”

She stood there in the entranceway, raising a hand as if to say hi. Trevor and Cole walked in and took her bags for her, “M’lady.”

She giggled again as she watched the two bumble around the house like idiots, all while Luke’s face heated up in embarrassment. When she looked at him she threaded her arm around his waist, “Don’t worry. I have my bunch of idiots back home. They don’t compare honestly.”

Luke’s arm wrapped around her shoulders in habit, slightly tightening as a way to ground himself. He looked over at her to see her still watching the three 22-year-olds, who were now dancing around the living room playing Just Dance. His eyes were filled with fondness, he couldn’t remember the last time or if there was ever a time he felt like this about someone. 

“You must be y/n! I’m Quinn, Luke’s oldest brother.”

Y/n smiled at him and Luke swore he could’ve died right there, “Nice to meet you, Quinn. Oh! I saw your guys’ last few games of the season, you guys played well.”

Quinn’s cheeks flushed, “Oh, thanks. Well, listen, your room is right next to Luke’s if you need anything. Anything in the kitchen you are more than welcome to have, we do have some things that if you want to cook you can. The bathroom is at the end of the hallway and the campfire is out back. I won’t tell, but I’m fine if you drink, just don’t do it outside the property or when our parents get here.”

She nods, trying to keep up with all the information he is spitting at her. He walked away and let the two be on their own, going back to his room. Luke picked back up her things and led her into the hallway and to her room. He placed her bags on the foot of the bed and looked back at her, “Well, I’ll let you get settled. I think we’re going out on the boat tonight.”

She didn’t think it would be this soon that she would have to wear them. Luke could see the panic that showed in her eyes for a brief moment, “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I'm just not a huge fan of the water.”

“Oh, that’s okay! You don’t have to go in it if you don’t want to.”

That sent some relief through her body, “Okay.”

“I’ll come back when we’re ready to go, okay?”

She nods and watches as he leaves, worried about what was to come.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Two hours later, Luke came back into her room. He knocked before coming in, of course, looking down, “Hey we’re just about- holy shit.”

Y/n stood there in her ripped jean shorts that didn’t come down fully because she had gotten them last year, her oversized UMich hockey shirt that was beginning to fade from the number of times she’d put it through the wash. Her hair was in two braids with her UMich baseball hat on and her makeup was done in the slightest bit. She was wearing a pair of gym shoes, her trusted ones that she’s had since she started college. When she heard Luke’s voice and then it cut off, she shied away, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“What?”

“Nothing, you just look-”

Here it comes. The fat jokes, the “you should get clothes that actually fit you” monologue, the snide remarks about her working out, and everything in between. But what hurt more, was that it was going to come from Luke, her best friend, her crush, her seemingly everything. The one who made her forget about those things.

“Really pretty.”

Her head snapped up and her eyes opened wide, “I- what?”

Luke’s face flushed, “You look pretty. Um, we’re getting ready to go! You ready?”

“Oh, uh yeah.”

“Did he really just call me pretty?” Her thoughts ran a thousand miles an hour as she grabbed her bag from the bed and followed Luke. There was no way he said that, was she imagining things? What had she eaten for lunch? 

Luke helped her onto the boat, holding her hand as she stepped up. She sat down and immediately pulled out her computer, connecting it to her portable hotspot. The boys watched her both in confusion and awe, but Jack was the only one to speak up, “Why are you on your laptop? Dude, you’re gonna get it wet.”

“I just have to do something quick.”

Jack watched from beside her as she pulled up her spreadsheets and started typing information in it, “Holy shit,”

That was the second one of the day, and both of them had been directed at her, “What now?”

“Dude, these are insane.”

He stole the laptop and started scrolling. Now she felt ten times more embarrassed than she was before, “It’s nothing.”

Luke was the next to steal the computer, sitting in awe at the payrolls among other stuff she created, “Damn girl. How much free time do you have?”

She toyed with the ends of her shorts, starting to fray, “A lot.”

She was glad once they moved on from the topic and she was able to shove her computer back in her bag after updating a few things. She watched as the boys went out on the water, Luke staying with her, claiming that he didn’t want to go in the water either. However, as time went on it got colder and colder, yet none of them wanted to go back.

It was now nighttime and y/n was cold from the drastic temperature change. Luke watched as she shivered and instantly took off his sweatshirt and handed it to her, “Here.”

Her eyes looked between him and his hoodie before shaking her head, “I’m okay.”

His eyes softened, growing increasingly worried and confused, “Y/n/n you have goosebumps all along your arms. You’re not ‘okay’.”

“No, I promise. I’m okay.”

“Please.”

She hesitantly took it and unfolded it to hold it up and look at the size. This had always been a worry for her, fitting into other people’s clothes especially when it came to boys. Sure they were ‘bigger’ than her, height-wise and all, but was that enough to counteract? She nervously put her arms through it, being careful not to stretch it out. She pulled it over her head and was pleasantly surprised when it fit a little baggy on her. 

However, her mind clouded with negative thoughts and it started yelling at her that she was the one that stretched it out, that that was the reason why it was baggy. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.”

She tugged slightly on the hoodie, feeling it start to cling to her impossibly tight. It wasn’t the hoodie, it was her mind making her think that it was smaller than it was. She tried to get out of Luke’s gaze but it was no use. She cursed to herself before looking out at the water, watching the boys splash each other like immature 10-year-olds, “I’ve never been the skinniest girl out there, Luke.”

Her words caused him to frown. ‘Is that seriously what she’s worried about?’ He brought his right hand up to her face, placing her chin in between his index finger and his thumb. He turned her head so her eyes had no choice but to look at him, “You listen to me. You are beautiful, okay? You are the prettiest girl I have ever laid eyes on.”

She moved her head away from his grasp and wrapped her arms in front of her stomach. Luke was determined to convince her that he wanted her. That she was the only one for him, so despite her worries and insecurities, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. She yelped in surprise and as soon as her butt touched his legs and squirmed, “Let me go, Luke.”

“No.” His voice was stern as he spoke. 

“Please, Lu.” 

“I’m sorry but I don’t think I can. Not when you are talking about yourself like this, out loud or in that beautiful head of yours. Listen, y/n/n, I know it’s hard, believe me. And while I might not know exactly what you’re going through, I have had my fair share of insecurities myself. You are gorgeous and I love every single part of you there is, okay? I cannot tell you one moment that I have seen you look ugly.”

Completely brushing over the fact that he said ‘I love’, she continued trying to prove him wrong, “What about that-”

“Nope! Doesn’t exist. And I’m going to tell you that if you do not come to at least one game of mine next season, wearing my jersey I might lose it.”

Luke’s words had her blushing in an instant but her mind did not want happiness to be a thing tonight. Her thoughts of this being a prank clouded the intense blissfulness she felt for a few seconds, “Why?”

“Why what, sweet girl?”

The nickname passed over her, “Me. Why me?”

“I’m going to tell you my favorite moment of you and then we’ll see if you know why,” He removed one of his arms from her waist to wrap his fingers around the back of her neck and rub his thumb against her cheek before continuing, “Freshman year. First game you ever went to. I had just bought you a jersey and wrote on the back of it with a sharpie my name and my number. It wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world, obviously because that’s you, but it made sure everyone knew you were supporting me. You wore it with those jeans that I like, the ones with the rhinestones bordering the pockets, and you wore these gym shoes, the ones you’re wearing right now. You had your hair in two ponytails and this hat,” He flicked the brim of it, “and you brought two of your other friends for whom the life of me I cannot remember.

“But you stood for the whole game with this little pompom thing in your hand, cheering every time someone got a goal and booing every time whoever we were playing got one. And then after the game I met you outside and then we went to go get ice cream and you got vanilla with sprinkles and we tasted each other’s because I kept looking over at yours and you finally gave in. And then I took you back to your dorm and you stole my beanie. Which you didn’t give back for another two weeks.”

Her eyes watered as she listened to him, “Y/n/n. Don’t cry, please.”

She shook her head, “I’m not, I promise.”

“No matter how long it takes, what it takes, I am going to prove to you that you are beautiful no matter what anyone says. And as long as you love yourself, that’s all that matters. But you’ll always have my love, okay?”

“You love me?”

“Of course I do! I know we haven’t really dated, but when you know you know.”

She smiled at him and closed her eyes when his lips made contact with her forehead, and then her cheek, “Can I kiss you?”

She nodded and leaned in to meet him halfway. Once their lips connected they heard ‘whoops’ from the water. They pulled away, both red in the face. And as they drove back, y/n sat next to Luke with her head on his shoulder and his hand resting comfortably on her thigh.

LH43 MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

[doveypink]

unexpected surprise [satoru gojo]

summary: satoru seeks your help in raising a child. word count: 0.7k warnings: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff/crack, dad!gojo (to megs and tsumiki). a/n: it’s my birthday! as per tradition, i like to write something for myself (as if i don’t always…). i have a longer gojo fic in the works, so take this until then!

“So what do you think?”

Satoru grins at you, his pearly white teeth blinding your eyes.

“It’s… something,” you reply, unsure of how to translate the thoughts running through your mind.

You sense Gojo’s impatience, giving him a lopsided smile when his eyes narrow. You poke his cheek—right in the dimple, which makes him smile wider—and you sigh.

“It’s a lot of responsibility to raise a kid,” you say firmly.

“I know,” he says with confidence. “Do you think I’m not responsible?”

“You have to be serious about this,” you assert, carefully stepping around his prior question. “This isn’t a joke. You can’t use your powers to save you if you fuck up. This is a little human we’re talking about.”

“I know,” he insists, whining a bit. “Come on, I wouldn’t ask you for help if I didn’t think we could do this.”

You tap your foot a few times, considering your boyfriend’s suggestion for a moment. Then, softly: “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nod.

“Okay!” Satoru repeats with a cheer, scooping you up in his arms. You groan, but you can’t help smiling a bit. He sets you down and puts his hands on his hips. “Well, I hope you’re ready to meet him.”

Your boyfriend turns around, walking to the door of his apartment. You freeze, staring at the man with wide eyes. “Wait, what—?”

“Surprise!”

Gojo interrupts you to swing the door open. Standing outside the apartment is a little boy, no older than six years old. His scowl is partially obscured by the mess of dark hair on his head. You stare at the boy, mouth agape, while your boyfriend beams at you.

“Ta-da! Introducing… Megumi Fushiguro!” Satoru waves his arms around dramatically, presenting the child to you in the manner that a game show host announces that a player has won a new car.

Your eye twitches in irritation at Gojo, but you push it aside for the time being. You kneel down to Megumi’s height, holding out your hand and telling him your name. The boy reluctantly shakes your hand before dropping it back at his side. He seems deeply disinterested in the situation.

With a gulp, you ask, “Hey, so… How long have you been standing out here?”

“What time is it?”

You glance at your watch. “15:47.”

The boy pauses. “Two hours.”

A gasp escapes your mouth. This time, you can’t help the glare you point at Gojo. “Satoru, what is your problem?” You hiss.

“What? What did I do?” Your boyfriend asks cluelessly.

You continue to glare at him as you usher the small boy inside to sit on the couch. “Are you hungry? I’ll get you a snack,” you say quickly. Rushing to the fridge, you find a cup of applesauce and hand it to Megumi. He takes it wordlessly, tearing the lid off the container and helping himself.

Next to you, Gojo pouts. “But that’s my applesauce…”

A slow turn of your head shuts him up. You drag your boyfriend into his bedroom, hissing at the man. “You’re doing a terrible job of convincing me that you can be that boy’s legal guardian.”

“We are his guardians. This is a joint operation,” Gojo corrects you.

“I literally just agreed to this!” You shriek.

“Well… I may have told the higher-ups that you already said yes.” Your boyfriend scratches his head, casually shrugging his shoulders. “I guess it’s a good thing you did, huh?”

It takes everything in you to withhold from grabbing him by the shoulders and flinging him out the window. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to be calm, and speak.

“Satoru. I will help you raise this boy. But you have to promise you won’t pull any last-minute surprises on me again.”

“I promise,” your boyfriend grins, kissing your nose. For the briefest of moments, you feel relieved. Then he continues: “But there is one little thing I forgot to mention…”

The door to the walk-in closet swings open behind you. You yelp, jumping into Gojo’s arms. A little girl, maybe a year or so older than Megumi, nervously peeks her head out. She waves, smiling sheepishly.

Your boyfriend repeats his act from earlier, introducing the girl with a sparkling grin and a goofy voice: “Introducing… Megumi’s big sister, Tsumiki Fushiguro!”

You drag a hand down your face. Parenthood is not for the weak.

[snoopyliker]

Here’s a translation of what Bagi said at the end of her stream.

Bagi: I really wanted to say that QSMP was an opportunity I’ve never had before in my life. Because I impeded myself from taking those opportunities, in the sense of communicating with other creators from countries. When I was a kid I learned and practiced a little bit of English but I never practiced after leaving school because I never had the opportunity and I ended up accepting that I’d never go back to speaking in English because I didn’t practice and if I needed to do it then I’d be shit because I wouldn’t be able to communicate. So when Cellbit spoke to me saying, “Look we really want you to participate in QSMP with us.” I said, “Dude, my communication with people from other countries is going to be very difficult.” And there he said, “You don’t need to worry the translator works really well.” And honestly the translator worked really well because it allowed me to not just communicate with people from various countries, in my own native language, but also allowed me to learn words & terms in other languages.

And I think that I learned a lot culturally speaking because various people from various countries could share their cultures. Which to me is something that is more valuable than anything else. We consume a lot from our own culture and what we see on TV but actually co existing with people from different cultures every day for various hours a day was very cool for learning many new things. I think that QSMP was an experience that wasn’t just very fun but for me, as a player, was an experience that changed my life. Because now I have friends from various parts of the world, I have various people who I met personally who I love, and various more that I still want to meet and be able to do many things together. We lived many cool moments and even if they were characters we were playing, as if they were small scripts we were playing, even then we still lived emotions that were very real. We lived through suffering together, happiness together, and much more. We shared many cool emotions together and so that created a great relationship between the content creators.

From getting along and starting to directly interact on the server to, for instance, people accompanying me late nights while I dug a whole, that refers to the players as much as it does to the administrators as well who’d stay up late digging the hole and updating twitter, doing many things with me. When I only wanted to log on the server, do Lucky Ducks, dig my whole, there was always people to participate and do things with me. And so it was always a lot of fun and it was always people from various places. (…) Because I already knew Cellbit and Felps for a long time but getting close to Pac and Mike was very crazy and it was very fun. The entire experience was very fun. And that’s it.

I think what I’m most grateful for about the QSMP was all the people that connected us. All the people who participated and permitted us to create genuine connections during the game. Because it’s only a game but at the same time everyone who is participating are real people with real feelings who share real things, you know? So it was very cool. I met many fun people who were very cool to spend all this time with. Not just the creators but the team. Everyone. So it was very cool. Very cool.

And I think that the most important thing of all is that you live through experiences in your life with various people and experiences come and go but the mark you leave on people and the mark they leave on your life is permanent. And so experiences come and go, people come and go, but the mark people leave is permanent. The mark that all these creators, all the team, all the actors of QSMP as well, of the eggs, of the characters, left a permanent mark on me that I’ll never forget because it was very cool. I hope still to find the creators, live many fun things with them still, and that’s it. I think I’ve participated in many cool things, I’ve done many cool things in my career and QSMP definitely was one of them. I have many good memories created with the server and people who participated with me. It was very very very fun.

(Bagi also said she wants to have a chat with Elena one day to discuss what she said about the Rebels with Walter Bob there as well)

if i made any typos no i didnt goodbye.

[cod-dump]

The Guy to Know

pricenik

(also on ao3, word count 15509)

_____

John didn't always thinks things through, he was quick to let his impulses win. His captain said he was a handful, though John found joy in that, making the old man run in circles. He was a pain the ass but he was, undoubtfully, good at what he does. He had a bite to him that helped him survive. That's why he was on Captain MacMillan's team, why he was SAS.

Yes, he would consider himself hotheaded, running in head first without much forethought. It was something his captain would get onto him for, something his teammates rolled their eyes at because ‘That’s just like you’. 

He meets someone promising glory at the end of what should be a brief trip out of country? He can't refuse, but maybe he should've thought about it a little longer, he didn't know this woman. But, he was impulsive. That was John Price's specialty.

“I don’t like going in bare, Kate.” 

He knew Kate for a few months now. She was CIA, young and ambitious. Was sniffing around Liverpool for a week before she sat next to him during a football game. She knew him and John wasn’t fond of her knowing so much about him when he didn’t know an equal amount about her. 

He didn’t trust her but then she brought up his captain by name and he relaxed. Now he was starting to think he jumped into this strange friendship too quickly. He wasn’t sure how she convinced him to fly into Russia, no weapons, fake passports and ID’s, disguised as a couple on vacation. He knew Mac would probably be disappointed he got himself into this situation so quickly after he went on leave. 

“It’s a hassle to smuggle gear in, so we’re picking some up there.” 

“Picking some up? Going shopping?” 

Kate ignored his sarcastic tone, “I know a guy.” 

He scoffed, wondering how well she actually knew him. 

She rented a car and drove them from the airport and out of the city. He could die out here, like an idiot. Mac wouldn’t even know, he’ll come back from leave wondering where his idiot sergeant ran off to. 

They got to a small, small town and stopped by an auto shop. It was busy, full of men yelling in Russian. Quite a few of them had visible tattoos, a lot of them were smoking, and all of them eyed them like meat when they walked in. Kate wasn’t fazed, asking for a man named Nikolai. Those were the magic words because once that name was spoken, the door to the office in the back opened. 

John Price was a bold man. He argues with superiors like it was his job, his opinion was always known. Yet he clammed up the moment he saw the mountain of a man that was Nikolai. Kate told him she knew a guy but this wasn’t who he was expecting. 

Big, recently shaved head and face. He had a fresh, red scar on his shoulder that peaked from his collar. He was cautious yet walked like he couldn’t care less about where he was or who he was with. Kate whispered something to him, something in Russian that John couldn’t translate. He figured it was a passcode or something because the man visibly relaxed even more, grinning. 

“This your guy?” 

John swallowed, Kate eying him when he shifted on his feet. 

“Nikolai. This is the sergeant I was telling you about. John Price.” 

Nikolai stared at him, stared like he was reading his very soul. John felt like a child who knew they were seconds away from being scolded. But Nikolai didn’t scold or say anything that he was expecting. ‘I’m not impressed’ , ‘This is what I have to work with?’, ‘Don’t get in my way’ -- Nothing of the sort. He just nodded, as if satisfied, before he whistled a particular tune. 

Suddenly they were surrounded and John was ready to go on the defensive. But Kate grabbed his arm. 

“Don’t.” 

Two men approached Nikolai, carrying a trunk. They sat it at his feet and Nikolai took out a key that had been hidden in his shirt, hanging from what John had previously presumed to be a simple gold chain. Inside the trunk was weapons, ammo, a bag, and a couple body armor vests. 

“Bag has the intel you need to get in.” 

John blinked, keeping close to Kate as she moved to fetch the items from the trunk. 

“How much is she paying you?” 

Nikolai eyed him and Kate sighed, throwing a vest into his arms as an attempt to change the subject. But Nikolai was interested, smirking as he turned his body to face John. 

“Honestly? She’s not paying the full amount I would be asking. But! I like her.” 

John stares at Kate who honestly looks offended, “I will leave you here in the streets if you say anything.” 

Kate glares and John shuts up, Nikolai laughing gleefully. John shivering at the sound. Deep into enemy territory, dragged into a job by a woman he honestly didn’t know that well convinced him to help her with, and they’re being helped by a guy who’s doing it because he likes Kate. He was smelling disaster ahead of them. He didn’t trust this man, didn’t know what he had in on this and didn’t know much about him other than ‘Chimera’. 

A callsign? Organization? He saw nothing in the auto shop that could give him any clues and Kate wasn’t giving him much to go on besides ‘trust me’. 

“Pick up your gun, Price. We have a job to do.” 

John grabbed the weapon from the trunk, making eye contact with Nikolai. John turned away to focus on Kate and this job he got roped into, choosing to ignore the intense staring that Nikolai was directing solely on him. He was getting out of this country as soon as possible if Kate doesn’t get him killed. 

She had gotten them this far, so he had to trust that she would get them to the end. 

Kate didn’t just get gear from Nikolai, she had a vehicle that had more supplies waiting behind the auto shop. She had originally told him she had this planned for a while and that she just needed some muscle to help make things happen and he was honestly impressed. 

“We’re heading into enemy territory, now, John.” 

“Oh, we’re not in it now?” 

Kate glared at him while John smirked. She was fighting a smile, he could tell. If she gets them killed at least he managed to annoy her.

___

He honestly hadn’t expected that the Russian arms dealer would come in at the last possible moment to practically save the day. They were under heavy fire and John had lost his helmet ages ago. He was sure this was it, his last moments, until an armored van busted through a brick wall. 

The majority of their ops were crushed and the rest was quickly taken care of. And Nikolai, that bastard, opened a door with a grin and a cigarette between his lips. John was honestly frozen in place as Kate quickly ran over and jumped into the van, making sure to secure her intel before she yelled at John to get his ass in the van. 

He had to run and dive in the door that Nikolai had wide open as more ops showed up to the scene. He was clinging to the seat as he laid on the man’s lap, the van’s driver taking off the moment Nikolai grabbed his vest to secure him. John’s heart was pounding as he heard gun fire, Kate laying in the backseat as bullets nail the sides of the van. 

The driver sped along the tiny dirt road, Nikolai’s men shooting out the windows at their pursuers. John managed to get crawled into the seat between Nikolai and the driver, sitting up with a huff. Nikolai was grinning as he grabbed a gun from the glovebox, turning to John as he tried to steel himself. 

“We have ten minutes to get them off our tail so we can disappear smoothly, which is greatly preferred. Think you can manage that, sergeant?” 

John scoffed, grabbing the gun, “I’ll do it in five.” 

With that, he grabbed Nikolai’s cigarette and put it between his teeth, climbing into the backseat with Kate. She had a rifle loaded, ready to stick out the window. 

“Hey, need you to get that drive out of here or all of this was for nothing.” 

“I’m not helpless, John.” 

He uses that opportunity to trade guns, giving her the handheld as he took the rifle, “Didn’t say you were.” 

John climbs into the very back with Nikolai’s men. He was always a good shot and he was hoping that wouldn’t fail him now. 

The language barrier wasn’t enough to keep John from being able to communicate to one of the men of his plan. Maybe he had a vague understanding of English, enough to know to aim for the tires as soon as John swung one of the back doors open. 

“John!” 

Kate didn’t like the plan of him making the inside of the van open and vulnerable.  

“Whatever you’re doing make it quick!” 

John shot at the tires as Kate yelled at him, growling when it wasn’t slowing down their pursuers. He ducked when one of Nikolai’s men grabbed him and shoved him to the floor, roughly shoving a metal crate in front of them for cover. Then, John noticed something in the corner of the van, stuck in a vest. 

Jackpot.

“Grenade going out!” 

Pin out and a well place throw, the grenade launched onto the road and under the front vehicle -- 

BOOM! 

John watched the front vehicle launch into the air, flipping and crashing into the vehicle immediately behind it. He watched as the vehicles ram into one another while others swerved, running off the road and some ramming into trees. John laughed as did the men around him. Two grabbed the back doors and shut them, John slumping against the back set where Kate laid. 

“What’s the time?” 

Kate snorted, “4:55, bastard.” 

He heard Nikolai laugh out and John took that as his success.  

___

The safe house was deep in an old town, half of the buildings were run down and there were very few residents. John wondered if they were even civilians and not more of Nikolai's people. He seemed to have them everywhere. He had resources, a lot of them. John wondered where he had managed to get it all.

”Nikolai isn’t actually your name, is it?”

The man hummed, in disagreement or agreement? John wasn’t exactly sure. John took it as agreement.

”What is your real name?”

”Fae can’t just give their real name out like that, sergeant.”

John blinks and Nikolai snickers to himself. Oh, the man has jokes.

”If you must have a surname, Nikolai Chimera would do just fine.”

”Yea, I’m not doing that.”

Nikolai seemed to have a permanent, smug look on his face. One of near constant amusement.

“I have to know-” 

Nikolai was quick to interrupt with a smirk, “Have to? You seem to be alive and well without knowing.” 

John glared with no heat, “As I was saying...” 

He paused for a moment, waiting for another interruption but Nikolai said nothing, smiling as he sat there silently. John huffed, looking away to hide the smile attempting to take hold. 

“How’d you meet Kate?” 

“Ah, Kate? How did you meet her?” 

“She crawled into the seat behind me while I was watching a home game. Football, but she wasn’t there for sports. Knew my captain by name and reputation, wanted to see if I was willing to work with her when he wasn’t.” 

Nikolai hummed, “Similar story. She found me... enjoying a sport of my own. Brought up a sensitive name and with the promise of helping me and my ambitions. She’s kept her word so far so I’ll keep mine.” 

John wasn’t satisfied, Nikolai’s answer being far too vague. Maybe John was too open, too easy to read. Kate read him far too easily despite their brief relationship, Nikolai was either as sharp as her or John needed to learn to shut his trap. Mac always kept saying he liked to talk a bit too much, liked to be noisy. 

“Kate only knows my business because she dug deep. Want it from me then you’ll have to do the same or buy me dinner.” 

John felt his ears go hot, that had to be a joke. Nikolai has been full of them with a healthy dose of sarcasm. But he didn’t hear any sarcasm and it made him restless, the need to move making him stand quickly. He cleared his throat and stepped away, keeping his back to Nikolai. The Russian snickered, so it was a joke. He got the reaction he wanted and John bit his tongue to keep himself from saying anything that would reveal his embarrassment. 

He could hear Nikolai standing, moving past him to grab something. He didn't have to brush shoulders but chose to. John had to restrain a shudder as goosebumps lit up his shoulder and arm.

"One of mine is bringing food. Fresh and hot."

"Food?" John wanted to kick himself for the crack in his voice, clearing his throat as soon as he heard it.

“Да, Kate picked.” 

John nodded, unable to look at Nikolai as the man moved around the room calmly. He was unbothered, even seemed quite pleased with himself. 

"John-"

As soon as John heard Kate's voice he quickly left the room. He heard nothing from Nikolai about his obvious retreat. Kate was sitting in a plush chair that didn't fit the surrounding room. Sitting cross legged with a pad of paper on her lap, she was deciphering something, maybe a code from a contact, he didn't bother asking or taking a closer look as he sat on the couch adjacent from her.

"You came in here quickly..."

"You need- You called so-"

Kate eyed him before she bit her lip to stop a laugh. His face felt like it was on fire and Kate was very happy about it.

"Thought I was picking something up about you."

Price glared, "I'm tired, I'm hungry, this place is cold, and I'll have to have a good long chat with Mac when this shit is over."

Kate hummed, still smirking. He turned from her, not finding her teasing easily digestible with Nikolai's comment from a mere few minutes ago. 

"I'll come back to that on a later date."

John grunts and decides to look back at her, "What's that?"

"Crossword."

John blinked and leaned over before he groaned. He flopped over the length of the sofa, exhausted. Kate snorted as she took her time reading over her puzzle while relaxed, unlike him.

"MacMillan has high praise for you, didn't expect you to be... this when I met you at that game in Liverpool."

"First off; you stalked and cornered me while I was enjoying an excellent hot dog with some chips. Secondly; Wait until I get my harmonica then you'll see exactly who that Scottish cunt has been dealing with."

Kate let's out a laugh, "God, I thought that was a joke."

"I love a good tune and this fucking place hasn't had shit."

"Wow-"

John was almost completely fused with the sofa, allowing himself to close his eyes. He could hear Kate giggling and he found himself finally relaxing. He was still on foreign turf, starving, a slight chill that was becoming irritating, and he was desperate for at least ten minutes of shut eye.

John opens his eyes when he hears what is now the very familiar sound of Nikolai's boots, walking into the room. John turned his head when he noticed the man standing behind the back of the couch, he didn't want to risk making eye contact. Kate saw this and grinned. He was giving her fuel and he had only himself to blame.

"Food has arrived."

John focuses on Kate, trying to keep his sanity in check, "What you order?"

"Pizza."

"Kate..."

"With olives."

"Kate-"

Nikolai chuckles, "There's more than one kind."

"Thank you."

John sat up, he could feel that Nik was standing behind him and it just sent a chill down his spine. Kate unfolded her legs, setting her pad of paper on the arm before she stood.

"I'm eating a whole pie. The rest of you have to share."

John snorts, "You can keep it. It's already been tainted."

"I'm putting olives in your birthday cake."

John gags, "And that's why you're not invited."

Kate walks past, grinning. There was a moment of silence before Nikolai spoke, "You don't like olives?"

It was a simple comment, John looking over his shoulder at the man, "I don't hate them but I could live happily without them."

Nikolai stared at him and John had to fight to not look away. Finally, he steps away back into the other room.

"Noted."

John blinked before the smell of pizza coaxed him into standing and joining the others.

___

John slept easier than expected. He got out with bruises and a sore ankle and honestly that's the best he's ever left with. Kate had her intel and now they were prepping to head back to the UK, there Kate would get a ride back home to the States and John would have a little meeting with Captain MacMillan. He wasn't looking forward to it.

"Maybe if I walk in speaking Russian, he'll be so shocked that he'll be nice."

Kate rolls his eyes, "With what we gained he'll have no choice but to be nice. Intel on the Russian Ultranationalists, plus a new friend... if you choose not to leave that in Russia."

John bristled, Kate watching him. 

"The fuck are you on?"

Kate sighs, "Are you that dense?"

John glares and Kate scoffs, looking away. John wasn't sure what she was on, not fully. He had a feeling he knew but he wasn't willing to speak it into existence. So far the obvious wasn't stated and John could live his life without it. Though Kate didn't seem willing to leave it be.

"I know enough on Nikolai to know he won't be offended. He's a pretty open-minded man."

John stands and Kate tenses for a second. He says nothing, again not wanting it to be said but it was heading there. Kate remained where she sat, keeping her composure. He felt his heart pound, head swimming as he stared at her. This topic was never a easy one to have, especially not with someone he had know for only little over a month. Was it bait? Was she trying to get him to admit something that he won't be able to take back?

”He won’t take offense if he were to learn you had a cr-“

"We're not close enough to have any discussions like that. Clear?"

Kate looks him up and down, a quick thought cross her mind before she nods, "Crystal."

___

"You're goin' off on your own now, huh?"

John was around the same height as the captain, but the man had bulk over him. He was intimidating, especially when annoyed or, god forbid, angry. John took a lot from him, mimicking a lot of things that made Captain MacMillan the cunt he was.

"With the example you set?"

The man lets out a short laugh, not showing much amusement in his expression. John flicks his eyes away, trying to look anywhere but his captain. The man just stared, like he was trying to set him on fire.

"I was working with the CIA, like I told you. It wasn't like I was fucking around for my own amusement."

"Hm... CIA? Don't remember ever giving you clearance..."

"She approached me."

Mac huffs, "Did she?"

This wasn't getting him anywhere so John tried to shift the subject, "I have a contact."

It worked because Mac leaned over his desk, "A contact?"

"Russian arms dealer. His name's Nikolai, runs an outfit called Chimera."

The face Mac made showed that John had an in back to his good side.

"Chimera? They've been opposing the ultranationalists. Intercepting convoys and taking that cargo for themselves. They sell it to clients, too," John hums, trying to keep his composure, "You have contact with that Nikolai?"

John nodded and Mac laughed, "God, I was gone for a month-"

”I can get shit done without your constant hovering, old man.”

Mac snorts, “Got a way to contact him?”

John spoke without thinking, “Yes.”

”Oh? Well, I’d like to have a word with him, seeing as he likes to fuck with the people who make my job literal hell.”

John nods and Mac goes to speak but John interrupts with raising his hand, standing as he does.

”… Jonathan, do you actually-?”

”Yes.”

Mac just watched in confusion as John backed out of the room. Maybe he watched out of amusement, wanting to see how deep of a hole John could dig himself. John didn't look back, trying not to run down the hall. Sikes passed him, stopping when he didn't say a word to him.

"Where are you running off to?"

John doesn't reply and disappears around the corner. He hopes that Mac won't say anything, save him the embarrassment, but he wasn't that nice. John would prefer to be off base by then. Maybe running off again wasn't the smartest thing but while Mac tended to be an ass, he had a soft spot for him, and John planned to take full advantage of that.

If the old man wants to meet Nikolai, then John is going to get him that meeting. He just... needs to make a phone call and apologize to Kate. They didn't leave on a good note and John hasn't stopped thinking about it. She didn't come off as that kind of person, someone who would hold personal information like that over her teammates, but she's CIA and frankly, John isn't sure about her.

Still, he gets to a payphone and dials the number Kate left him with despite the sourness in the air.

"Yes, I would like to speak to an Agent Kate Laswell... Sergeant John Price, SAS."

Those few minutes when he was on hold was excruciatingly long. He counted two and a half but it felt like thirty. The line clicked and he heard Kate take a breath before speaking.

"John?"

"Hey, Kate! Uh... how are you?"

He wanted to bash his head against the wall but he strained himself, didn't need to add another quirk to the growing list.

"I'm well... How'd things go with the cap? Is he mad? I have that intel already submitted, I can have someone give him a call and send him a record to get him off your ass if needed."

She sounded genuine in her offer and it made John feel more like shit.

"You could just send a record in the mail... Hey, okay, I was an ass last time we spoke and I feel like shit for it. Can I buy you a drink as an apology?"

Kate was quiet for a few seconds and John held his breath the entire time, "Yea... a drink would be nice. Not as a date, though... right?"

"What? Of course not! You're too mean."

She laughs and John's heart didn't ache so much with guilt.

___

"Okay okay- Wait, you don't get Nikolai's contact info. For whatever weird reason you have, and then you tell your captain you do... then you run off after he says he wants to meet him?"

John sighs, taking a swig of his beer. Meeting in a pub felt appropriate. They were in Manchester since John didn't want to go back to Liverpool to have a drink with a foreign woman in his home town. He didn't want to hear anything from his family about anything he had going on in his life, work related or not... not that they would know it was work related.

"I am... an impulsive individual."

"Wow, big words there."

John glares and Laswell sips her whisky with a smirk. He did like her, she wasn't afraid to say her mind but also not too much. People were either too nice or too blunt, not enough had the right amount of either.

"Look, maybe I was nervous about being able to contact Mr. Chimera whenever."

"Well, Mr. Chimera doesn't just give out info like that, John. He trusted you to have it."

John nods, staring at the chips he ordered, now a bit cold and hard. He still grabs one and takes a bite, glaring at the tray. He felt like a fool, letting old wounds hurt the way they did.

"I really am sorry for how I acted."

"I was pushing it. You were right, we don't know each other well enough to have personal conversations like that."

"I didn't exactly have a emotionally safe upbringing. That has never been a safe topic, Kate."

"I understand that. I really do."

They drank in silence, John munching on his cold chips. Kate finished her glass, sighing for a moment at the last drop. The silence was a bit awkward but therapeutic in a way, there was an understanding there that was a bit overwhelming but it was needed. John did want to get to know Kate, trust her enough to have a conversation like that. A conversation he's never dared to have with anyone.

"So... you want Nikolai's contact info."

"For my capt'n, really."

"Sure... Look, as far as he knows, you rejected his info. It will stir things up if an unknown individual, or someone claiming to be someone he worked with, contacting him about wanting to meet up."

"Who will trust that?"

"Exactly. So, you're going to have to go to Russia with me and you're going to serenade that man into getting him to help you out."

John snorts, "What, want me to bring a guitar?"

"Learn some Russian, too, it'll convince him to be nice after that rejection."

John snorts, face warm but he couldn't tell if it was from the beer or the implications of their conversation. It easily could sound like they were having a very different conversation. It also made John tense, someone could overhear and make that mistake. He wasn't willing to get into another fight over that.

"Let's get some air."

"Alright, I'll call a taxi to meet us. Does your captain even know where you went?"

"No."

"You really need to tell that man where you're going."

"He'll live. It's not like he's my father."

"No, he's only the man who got you a job, put a roof over your head and food on your table."

"Fine, I'll send him a postcard when we get to St. Petersburg."

Kate snorts before she stands to go make a call. John finishes he beer before he gets up, anxiety tightening his chest, not giving him a moment's rest from the guilt he had before.

___

"They moved shop."

"Of course, they play a dangerous game. Can't stay idle."

John still felt exposed even though they weren't here to steal intel. He was nervous and the chill in the air wasn't helping him keep his composure. They had gotten a hotel room, Kate leaving to drop a letter off. She was informed the first time where Chimera would be, this time they had to wait for Chimera to find them.

He was sitting on one of the beds, tapping his foot. He nabbed a postcard from the hotel's gift shop, deciding to writing a smart remark on it for Mac. He snickered to himself, he could only imagine the look on the man's face when he received this in the mail. Well, there was a chance it'll get to him before John came back. He hoped that was the case.

Kate reentered the room, huffing as she closed the door.

"Winter's coming, you can feel it."

"Lovely."

Kate takes off her jacket and throws it on a chair by the kitchenette before she flops onto the other bed.

"So, thought about what you're going to say to him?" John tenses and Kate rolls her eyes, "No plan? Again?"

"I'm thinking."

"Barely."

John glares and Kate gives him a quick, over exaggerated smile before she buries her face in a pillow. He huffs before laying the postcard on the night stand, laying back onto the bed to stare at the ceiling. What should he say to Nikolai? He didn't think about the benefit of having a man like him as a friend? That his captain wanted his contact? That John lied about already having Nikolai as a contact?

That he panicked when Nikolai offered to keep in touch and backed out without thinking? He was embarrassed, which was a feeling he was becoming rather accustomed to by this point. He was going to feel it even more when - if he got to meet Nikolai again. Looking him in the eye to apologize? He could imagine a thousand ways it could blowup in his face. He could even risk Kate's relationship with the man.

He had to think of a damn good apology or he'll make a fool out of both of them.

"Get some shut eye, John, I can hear you thinking from here. Nikolai's men check drop off points every few hours, we have time for a nap."

John nods even though he knows Kate wasn't looking. He kicks off his shoes and climbs further onto the bed, a nap didn't sound too bad. Maybe his head will be clearer afterwards, allowing him to think of what he was going to say if Nikolai allows them to meet. John somehow allows himself to drift off, hoping for a little rest.

There was a knock that caused John to wake, jumping up to an alert position. Kate was up just as fast, both of them sharing a look before Kate got off her bed and eased over to the door. She peered out of the peephole and after she knocks on the door in a pattern, another pattern is returned. Only when she relaxes does John, getting off his bed to out his shoes back on.

Kate opened the door and a man that John didn't recognize walked in, he was definitely Chimera.

"Agent, good to see you. Sergeant."

He spoke English well enough that John was sure he would've remembered interacting with him before. The man looked at John and back to Kate.

"He's surprised, I will not lie."

"Is he willing to meet?"

"He is. Neutral ground, I will take you."

John licked his lips, "Where is this neutral ground?"

The man looked at him and gave a small smile, "You'll see."

___

John felt underdressed, that wasn't an understatement. Kate felt it, too, judging by the way she adjusted her top. The restaurant was fancy, the atmosphere stirred some memories as they walked through. Their guide, Kamarov, didn't bother to warn them about the dress code. He himself wore a black dress shirt and pants, sleeves rolled up to show he tattooed forearms. John wondered if them not being told was on purpose, either by Nikolai's orders or Kamarov's own amusement.

They climbed some stairs to the second story, overseeing the main dining room. A host stopped them, Kamarov muttering a few words and then they were allowed into what was a private dining area. John saw Nikolai's men around the area, some people that didn't look like his people, maybe clientele or his own contacts. Nikolai, himself, was in a booth. John felt his mouth go dry with how the man was dressed and he was dressed very nicely.

He didn't look like a lowlife thug now, more like a proper business man. A man who's business was weapons. 

He noticed them and smiled, waving his hand to the booth in front of him.

"Kate, please sit. And you-" John stiffened, Nikolai's voice lowering, "-you can sit next to me."

Kate fought to keep her face neutral, sliding into the booth in front Nikolai. John stood there for a second, Nikolai sliding over to allow him space, arm stretched over the seat's back. Kate was biting her cheek, staring at him. Any plan John had put together on the drive over practically fizzled into nothing as he sat beside Nikolai, trying to make himself as small as possible. He could feel the man's body heat and it lit goosebumps up his side. If he made it out of this alive Kate was never going to let this go.

"So, sergeant, I was informed we're here because of you. That you wanted to meet."

The deep rumble of Nikolai's voice was hitting every nerve John had, he couldn't think with this close proximity.

"Yes, he wanted to talk."

Nikolai looked to Kate fondly, "Go order yourself something nice to eat. Or drink! Bar over there has practically anything you can think of. All of it on the house."

John looked at Kate pleadingly but she showed no mercy. John watched her leave eagerly, all but skipping to the bar. He couldn't blame her, free food and liquor? He, too, would be off to take advantage of that if he didn't feel magnetized where he sat. He blamed it on Nikolai's... everything.

"Ah, now. You wanted to talk, да?"

John nodded and Nikolai chuckled, "I don't bite. Ha, I almost don't recognize you. The man who stole my cigarette and threw a grenade onto a busy road to save our tail. Busted into a private government facility and stole valuable data."

He took his time taking out a cigarette as he spoke, John watching out of the corner of his eye. He brought it to his lips and John looked away. He looked around, at the decor, the chandelier of crystal that hung over the main dining room. The food and drinks here were undeniable expensive.

"When you asked me to buy you dinner, you could've picked a cheaper place. My pockets aren't exactly deep."

Nikolai laughed John flushing. He leaned over, smoke on his breath and his cologne, mixing into a scent that John couldn't stop breathing in.

"You're right, when you're buying you're picking. Tonight is my treat."

John wanted to die. The silence was sickening and John knew he had to fess up why he was there.

"I may have rejected your offer too quickly..."

Nikolai looks at him, expression unreadable.

"You wanted my contact?"

"Yes."

"Yet you said no."

He panicked, that was the truth. And he couldn't even think of the man's possible reaction to telling him that. He needed to find a way to regain control, he was making a fool of himself at the moment. John looked to the cigarette trapped between the man's lips and, without further thinking, he plucked it away and placed it between his own.

Nikolai's eyes widened and John felt control weigh in his favor.

"I changed my mind. Think I have use for you."

Nikolai stared at him hard as John took a long drag, he could practically see the gears turning. For once, the man was speechless. And the best part? The man turned away to clear his throat, hiding his face long enough for John to no longer feel out of his element. It wasn't the setting, it was Nikolai. The man made him feel out of the loop, and now he finally felt like he had something over him.

Nikolai finally turns back to him, snickering, "Oh, I can tell that we're going to be good friends."

"If you stay useful, we can be the best of friends."

Nikolai grinned wider and John knew he had it. Victory. Kate won't believe him.

"You said food and drinks were on the house? Well, excuse me while I go eat myself into a coma."

John took the cigarette from his lips and handed it back to Nikolai, the man numbly taking it while watching him as if he was almost hypnotized. John quickly left the booth before he ruined anything and calmly made his way to Kate. She, surprisingly, hadn't been watching them the entire time. Instead she was nursing what had to be a glass a wine worth more than John's flat with a bowl of pasta.

"John, I'm taking a box home."

"Do they even have boxes here?"

"I'll take a pot then."

John snorts and sits next to her.

___

"You're taking him to meet your captain now, right? Already? Wow, that's a big step."

John turned to Kate who immediately busted into laughter, clearly she thought she was hilarious. John glares, pointing his fork at her to show that he was serious.

"I need to rope him in while he's still impressed by me. Plus, I need to cool Mac's engine before he bursts into flames."

"Right, because you lied about-"

"I have it," John hissed, "And now I'm going to use it."

Kate hummed, sipping her fancy wine. She was on her second bowl of pasta and John was thinking of getting another order of lamb. The food, admittedly, was delicious and the portions weren't outrageous, but they certainly weren't enough for the two of them.

"Ya know he's been staring at you, right?"

John didn't need to look to believe her, he could feel Nikolai's gaze upon his back. He had half expected the man to eventually join them but he had remained in his booth, now with his man Kamarov sitting across from them. He was trying to talk business but he wasn't looking like he was, he was watching so intently. John almost wanted to turn around and look right at him, wondering if Nikolai would try to look like he wasn't staring.

Kate turned in her seat, appearing as though she was going to look behind her. And just like that Nikolai looked away. He was staring but he didn't want to be caught. Man had to know he wasn't being subtle.

"John, I think he likes you."

"He does, he told me himself."

She grins, "Really? Then why are you over here and not talking him up?"

John swallowed hard, the way she said that made him pause.

"Can't show too much interest..."

"John..."

"He's intimidating, okay?"

She snorts and John knows she had enough wine for the evening. She leans over and rests her head on his shoulder, making him decide they should wrap this up.

"It's for work, Kate. Get you a takeaway box, we need to call it a night."

Kate whines but makes no further protest, finishing her latest and last glass of wine. John stands and walks over to Nikolai, the man almost sitting up straighter as he approached. John looked to Kamarov who blinked, quietly looking to Nikolai before he dismissed himself and left the booth. John sat across from Nikolai once the man was, the two staring at each other for a moment before speaking.

"Think I need to leave this get together. Got a postcard that needs sent to the UK."

Nikolai leans forward, "Leaving so soon? And we didn't get to have much quality time."

John represses a shudder as Nikolai folds his arms over the table. He felt like Nikolai was trying to regain lead of the situation, and John felt he had to fight to keep it. He leans back against the seat, keeping eye contact with Nikolai as he did.

"Quality time? Have to earn that."

Nikolai grins, he liked John talking back, "By being useful? I can be very useful."

I want to launch into the fucking sun.

"I can give you a tip on how to do that; Meet with my captain. Make friends with him and we can have some more quality time."

Nikolai looked him up and down, he looked mad with glee.

"I'll give you my number. I'll be wherever you want me to be."

"Good, already being useful."

Nikolai offered a card and John took it. He debated on nagging for a cigarette but he didn't want to push his luck. So he left with the card, going to collect Laswell and her box of pasta before they left the private dining area.

"Ya know, John. I don't know how you still feel about me but... that looked like flirting to me."

John felt his face get hot, "You're drunk."

Kate smiled, it was gentle, "Sure."

___

Kate was supposed to head out on another flight but she chose to stick around for a week. Why? She wouldn't directly tell him, just danced around the question with partial truths. John knew she stayed to hear whatever drama was going to happen with Mac. They had purposely delayed returning to the UK, giving enough time for John's express shipped postcard to land on Mac's desk.

She acted like she had nowhere else better to be, which left John wondering if whatever mess he had gotten himself into was really that entertaining.

"I would ask how you know where I live but I'd waste my breath."

"You're always wasting your breath."

They had bonded, he will say that. He liked Kate. She was funny, smart, and seemed to know how he thought like it was her own mind. Maybe he was just being dumb and too easy to read, maybe they were a lot alike. Either way, John was starting to consider an actual friend, someone he could trust. Well, he was hoping he could trust her. It never hurt to have genuine friends in this line of work.

They had went to John's flat after they landed, John planning on giving Mac a call to give the run down of everything (and to hear feedback about the postcard), and Kate decided to join him. She met Mac once, briefly, in an attempt to scope him out, which led to her going to John. Which led to the whole situation with Nikolai. To put it simply; Everything was her fault.

"Wow, that's a lot of records. And tapes."

"I like music."

"Maybe try to like organizing, too?"

"It's organized! I know where everything is and where it goes, unlike your untrained eye."

He had a system, Mac knew it and so did the rest of his team. It was messy in appearance but it worked. When John was able to get less heat from messes he took it. Maybe with age he'll go back to keeping things clean.

John had settled on his couch. It was old, pre-owned when he got it, but it has given him the best damn naps. He flopped down on the pillow he had left there from his last nap and sighed loudly. Kate snorted before she sat on the end that he wasn't occupying, relaxing against the couch and maybe, too, experiencing the magic the old thing possessed deep within its seams.

"When are you-"

"Sh sh- No work talk. Not yet," his voice was muffled by the pillow which made Kate laugh. She agreed silently, allowing him to lay there for several minutes before he decided to move.

Time to call Mac.

"I bet he's left voicemails. He always does."

"Ah, dads. They have such delightful things to say."

John mocked her under his breath, gaining a heatless glare. He climbed off the couch with great effort before he went to his landline. He had three messages, surprisingly. Two from Mac, and one from Sikes. Mac gave him the same talk about him running off, about him playing dangerous games. God, he really did sound like his father. Well, not his actual father, Mac was more caring.

Sikes just left a message about the postcard being a work of art. That's what John was looking forward to. After thoroughly enjoying Sikes' voicemail, John dialed Mac. He called his office phone specifically, for the added flair of his audacity.

"Sergeant Jonathan Price-"

"I come bearing gifts!"

"Like the postcard?"

"Better, even though that was fantastic work on my part."

Mac chuckles, if John didn't have stubborn residency in his soft spot then he would've been dead by now. Mac shifted on the other side, John hearing someone knock and Mac telling them to give him a minute. He better deliver his gift quick.

"Mr. Chimera is willing to meet."

"Mr. Chimera? Nikolai?"

"The very same."

Mac laughs, "You left to get his contact! And you succeeded!"

"I-"

"Don't lie. I know you, lad, better than anyone."

John looks to Kate who was still on his couch, relaxed and combating jetlag, "Keep telling yourself that. Wanna meet him or not?"

"If you can get that myth into the SAS's backyard then you're getting a raise."

"Promise? I have a witness of it!"

"Don't push it."

"Fine fine- When and where? Up to you, old man."

Kate looked over, thoroughly amused. John grinned at her and she snickered.

"Meeting the parents," She said, just loud enough for him to hear. John made a famously rude gesture towards her, earning another laugh.

John felt proud. His second contact, Kate being his first. He could foresee some chaos, enjoyable chaos and grand victories. Hopefully Mac could see it, too.

___

He was watching the clock obsessively, he knew this. Nikolai had sent him a email stating when he would be arriving and at what airport. John had sent a reply confirming he got the email and that was that. Silence.

He didn't like the silence.

"A watched pot won't boil, John."

John waved Kate off at her comment, he had at least an hour before he had to leave. He wanted to meet Nikolai there. Mac had tried to get him to use their airfield but Nikolai refused. John wondered why, wondered if Nikolai had doubts of meeting an SAS captain. He was pushing off the meeting by purposely using a civilian airline.

"He could've been here by now," John muttered under his breath, "I have to drive fucking thirty minutes to the airport and then twenty to the base."

Kate snorts, "That's my Sunday drive."

John glares at her and she just smiles. The last two hours she was waiting with him, wondering. And now all the sudden she's grinning like she knows something. John glared at her for this, hoping she would reveal what she knew to him without him having to ask or beg.

For once, that worked. Or Kate wanted to talk about it judging by how she eagerly pulled the chair out from the front of his desk and sat, leaning over the desk.

"He wants some extra time with you."

John blinked, staring at her before he blurted out "No he doesn't."

She laughs, "Yes he does! Why else would he pick an airport that you have to go out of your way to go to? Why else would he only tell you and not any one else on your team?"

John stared at her before he dropped his head to the desk. He can't keep doing this, racing after his own heart. He heard Kate laugh as he laid there, felt her pat the back of his head. She found his inability to be on the same page as his emotions hilarious. 

"That bastard."

"Guess he's getting his quality time."

John sat up, "Bastard."

She snorts, "You have to keep playing his game to win, John. Can't just play for a moment then revert back to this."

She motions to him, John huffing. She was right, he had to keep playing Nikolai's game and not back out. John stares at Kate and she stops giggling, blinking when his own grin forms.

"Hey, Kate-"

"Nope! Not getting in the middle of whatever this is."

"You have been involved day one. You can't back out."

Kate groans but John could tell she was amused by it all. She was going to help him win this game, make Nikolai squirm and play harder.

"Fine! But I'm taking a personal car."

"... whose car?"

"... Know where your captain keeps his keys?"

Oh this was becoming more fun by the second. Clearly she wanted to see how far he was willing to go for this and John aimed to impress.

"Wait out front."

"Oh you're insane."

Kate turned to leave, and before she reached the door John had an wonderful idea. He dug in a door in his desk, finding exactly what he wanted within seconds.

"Wait! One more thing."

Kate turned and rolled her eyes at the sight, "John no-"

John held out the disposable camera urgently, "This is serious. I need you to take a picture of his face when he realizes that I'm not there."

"John-"

"I'm winning this game, Kate."

Kate grinned and took the camera, "Fine."

Oh he couldn't wait to get the film processed. But that would have to wait, he had car keys to steal and had to prepare to mediate a meeting between an SAS officer and an arms dealer. He was sure the captain would play nice. But Nikolai? He wasn't completely confident on that.

___

Mac was sitting across from him, staring at him with a cross of amusement, exhaustion, and a hint of nervousness. He was bouncing his knee, had been moments after they had settled in their seats. Sikes was just amused, humming as he wrote something down on his notepad. John had been checking the clock regularly, Kate should be back with Nikolai by now. He was sure she would've called if something came up, Mac's car had a phone.

"John."

John looked to Mac who was still staring at him. Has he blinked? John can't remember seeing him blink.

"Yes, sir?"

"Why's my car not in the lot?"

John blinked innocently, looking out the window behind him to the car lot, "What you mean? Didn't you park in the garage today?"

"John."

"Heard it was gonna rain."

"Jonathan-"

"Know you're touchy about that car and the rain."

Sikes was watching them with great joy and amusement. John knows their bickering was the highlight of his job.

Mac's face dropped with shock and anger as his precious car pulled into a spot, his spot, and Kate got out. No Nikolai, which made John anxious. He couldn't even focus on Mac getting pissed over the car, just that he didn't see Nikolai.

Did Nikolai not appreciate him not showing up to get him? Did something came up? No, Kate would've told him if as soon as there was an issue. Where was Nikolai, then?

"Sergeant, your friend's here."

John whips his head around, from window to Sikes' smirking face. The door opened and Nikolai walked in with Sergeant Banks, dressed much more casual than when he last saw him. He looked like a civilian, not an arms dealer, and John could tell Mac was thinking just that. But he couldn't get past the relief he felt when he saw Nikolai. He came, he didn't back out.

"Ah, Sergeant Price!" Nikolai greeted eagerly with a grin, that grin crushing any doubts John had remaining.

John stands as does Mac. He was trying to take in everything that was Nikolai. First impressions were big for him and Nikolai wasn't checking any boxes off just yet. But he will, John knew he would.

"Nikolai, have a good flight?"

John was aiming for generally politeness but Nikolai wasn't willing to behave, "Of course. Shame you weren't the one to get me. I was looking forward to some quality time."

The rumble in his voice made John shudder and Mac and Sikes whipped their heads around to stare at him. Oh, he definitely didn't like him not picking him up. Nikolai smiled, pleased with the reactions he had gotten, only then did he finally turn towards Mac and Sikes.

"Captain MacMillan, and Lieutenant White, is it? A pleasure."

Mac took Nikolai's hand in a firm handshake, staring into almost into his skull as he did, gripping his hand tight. Sikes was less aggressive, didn't feel the need to put Nikolai in his place with a handshake.

"Mr. Chimera, is it?"

Nikolai grins, eyes flickering to John before he nods, "Indeed. I hadn't considered working with SAS, but the sergeant left an impression."

Mac turns to John, "Did he now?"

John swallows, he couldn't read Mac's expression.

That's new.

"Well, we'll talk about the sergeant later. Business, that's what you want, да?"

Mac nodded, "Yea... let's see if you deliver."

Oh Kate was going to get an earful later as he surely was from Mac. If he survives until then. Mac and Nikolai appeared to be sizing each other up, not letting up on their need to be on top. Sikes noticed and John wondered if he would be able to keep Mac playing nice this time.

I should keep notes on what to yell at her later...

___

"All of this is your fault. All of it."

Kate stared at him, "And what exactly is my fault?"

She wanted him to say it, to admit it. But those words won't come out and John was left frustrated. He knows what he was feeling, clearly she knew, too. So why couldn't he say it? Years of conditioning from his father? Seeing the judgement he passed to those who he deemed worth less than dirt, undeserving of basic human kindness. Those years of fear of it being directed at him.

The man wasn't here, he didn't have control anymore. But his claws were still there, and John couldn't admit what he wanted to say. Thankfully, Kate was understanding. She was patient, more than what he deserved. Was it obvious what he was struggling with? How many others knew?

No one, just her. Someone would've said something by now, right? Mac would've, and Sikes... right?

He didn't have the energy for this. There wasn't any rulebook to follow, he didn't know anyone going through this or had been through it. He felt alone... no, there was Kate, he wasn't alone.

"I've been taught that feelings like this are wrong."

Kate nodded, John sitting next to her on the couch. They had commandeered a lounge for themselves when Mac and Nikolai came to an agreement, John and Sikes being asked to leave so they could talk one-on-one. John needed a moment to step away anyway, to complain to Kate, to vent. She was so patient, understanding. Why? She picked something up not long after they met.

"I know. I was, too."

John looked to her and when she met his eye everything finally clicked.

"Oh."

She smiled, gentle teasing because she knew he didn't need any harshness at the moment, "There you go, using your brain."

"I... when did you-?"

"When did I-?"

"When did you know. How did you know?"

Kate shrugs, "Think around high school. There was this girl that sat next to me in math and... she was all I ever cared about in that class. Loved talking to her, we would help each other when we were stuck."

Kate talked with an endearing smile, enjoying every memory she spoke of. It made John's heart beat faster, thinking to Nikolai as she talked. Then, she stopped smiling, a frown replacing it.

"She... didn't feel the same. I worked up the courage to tell her, thought she was safe."

She said nothing more and John leaned over, shoulder pressing against hers. She leaned against him, dwelling in that memory. Finally she shook her head and looked to him.

"I've moved on, found a place for me. It can be hard but it's freeing being honest with yourself. And it feels so good to have people around you who understand."

Maybe she was eager in the beginning, when she had noticed that about John. Wanted a friend in their field of work, someone with the same kind of stress surrounding them. Someone who understood more than work. She moved too quickly, but John was willing now. He saw her perspective now and felt so thankful she was there, someone who knew these things.

"Typically people don't judge too hard when you know how to use a gun," Kate mused and John grinned when he heard it.

"When you have a body count they tend to play nicer."

She grins back, nodding. John could feel it, this was a defining moment. Kate Laswell, a friend for life. For however long that was, John knew they would be friends. Trouble, they were trouble, and he was glad to have met her. It was her fault but he was thankful for it.

___

Kate and John sat quietly next to each other as Mac discussed the routes the ultranationalists were taking. Nikolai was sitting across from John, watching Mac from over his shoulder. John was trying to stay focused but he kept looking to Nikolai, finding himself observing the man. He had soft features, scars cutting through his hair that was slowly growing back. His eyes were dark, a deep brown that held a warmth that you had to search for or otherwise they appeared cold like black ink.

He was fit, pushing his limits. John noticed he didn't eat a lot but smoked whenever and drank more than having decent meals. John wondered what he would look like healthy, not living on cigarettes and meals from the corner store. If he allowed himself to not push himself, allowed himself to cut back and enjoy life. John had witnessed how Nikolai was always looking over his shoulder, he fidgeted quiet a bit like he was never at ease. Why did he come alone if he was uncomfortable?

Nikolai's eyes flickered to him and John forced himself to focus on Mac. He caught a small smile on Nikolai's face from the corner of his eye, it wasn't smug but soft. John focused on Mac, looked at him and his presentation only, but his mind wandered to Nikolai.

___

"This can end so badly," John muttered. His heart was beating so fast that he thought it was just pop. He was wondering how he let her talk him into this.

"You trust me, don't you?"

He was hesitant to agree but he was nodding before he even realized. 

"Mr. Chimera will be heading back to Russia tomorrow. Unless you want to wait out the season or go and endure it, now is your chance."

Tell him. Tell him everything.

Nikolai was heading back, he's done with working with Mac. He got two convoys of barely legal guns and dropped them in Mac's personal hanger. Now he was heading home, and John didn’t know when he'd be able to see him again. So Kate convinced him to talk to him about his feelings. John was thinking about swallowing them whole at the moment.

"Kate..."

"It'll be fine!"

He wasn't sure. John can't remember ever being this nervous over something before. Not when he was on a mission, bullets flying and hope scarce to find. No, this was the moment he felt so anxious that he thought he was going to be sick. They were currently waiting outside, waiting for Mac and Nikolai to walk out and leave for the airport. Kate planned to for to grab Mac's attention so John could talk to Nikolai.

He wasn't sure he could do it, if he could follow through. He couldn't imagine how Nikolai would react, how he would deal with rejection. He's flirted with girls before with little care with they reciprocated. But John cares so much right now, he wanted Nikolai to accept his affections. But Nikolai didn't come off as that type. John didn't want to ruin whatever strange friendship they had with his stupid human emotions.

And what about Mac? He would surely learn about it all if Nikolai reacted poorly. Would he, too, react poorly? Not care for John's interest in men? The thought itself made John's knees weak. He couldn't do this.

"Kate, I can't-"

She noticed the look on his face, he was feeling light-headed.

"Shit- Sit down, you look pale."

John pressed his back against the brick wall they hid behind and slid down to the ground. Kate got on the ground with him, worried. Was he panicking? Was this a panic attack? It's been so long since he had one he couldn't even recognize it. He was so terrified of rejection to the point he was struggling to breathe.

"John- Breathe with me."

"He'd hate me."

"No he wouldn't."

"How do you know? You know him as well as I do."

Kate said nothing else, just squeezed John's hand. It took him several minutes to breathe. Just resting against the wall with his eyes closed, trying to think of anything other than Nikolai.

In the end, John couldn't face Nikolai. He watched from the bushes as him and Mac left for the airport. Kate had a look on her face, guilt. Maybe she wanted John to have a different ending than her. He didn't blame her for pushing him, who could have predicted this?

"I need a drink."

"That doesn't sound bad... if you're paying."

Kate snickers, "Sure. I'll help your poor ass out."

It was easier to just not think about Nikolai, it didn't hurt as much that way.

___

"She's amazing, John. You'd murder for her cooking."

Annie, Annie, Annie - That's the name Kate couldn't stop saying. She called often, for business and personal reasons. Currently she called to talk about the receptionist who she was practically stalking at work. She's denied her crush, John tried to play nice but she was making teasing her way too easy.

"Kate, ya know I'm working, right?"

"Oh, I can call later."

"You sound like you're going to explode if you don't talk now," John muttered, eying Sikes from the corner of his eye as he wrote on the docs before him. The man already smacked him over distracting himself with a paperclip, he may kill him for a phone call if he noticed. Sikes left the room and John sighed, relaxing as he spoke more clearly, "We're on for capture or kill."

"Bringing friends in?"

"Can't say too much... just that I might have to see..."

He hadn't spoken to Nikolai for almost a year. He felt guilt for it because that's the opposite of what he wanted. John wanted to talk to him, wished he could've said something before he left for the airport, but he was a coward. That damn fear spiked up in his chest at the thought of it, so he tried to stop it all together. He tried not to bring up the man, even as Mac worked with Chimera more and more. He was shocked the old man didn't say much considering John introduced them.

Maybe he knew more than what John was giving him credit for, making a conscious decision to leave Nikolai's name out of the conversation. Despite the desire to talk about him, oh did John want to talk. Only Kate knew everything, John wanted to reach out to Mac, to trust him. But that fear was still there, the fear of harsh rejection. He felt weak in the knees every time he thought about opening up to Mac, so he didn't bother.

"I'll call later. I'll have a list."

John snorts, "You do that."

He ended the call and sighed, Sikes reentering the room. He quickly noticed John's lack of work and walked over to him.

"Didn't smack you too hard, huh?"

John grunts, "Been over this shit three separate times, LT."

"There's too many ways this can go wrong, John. We need to be ready. Though Chimera will be with us, so hopefully everything will go in our favor."

Sikes sat across from him with a groan. He was getting old, had more wrinkles around his eyes and grey in his hair than what John remembered.

"Capt'n's got this, LT."

"I hope he does."

Uncertainty, Sikes wasn't known for that.

John stretched in his seat, hanging his arm over the back of his chair, "Where's my harmonica? I think you need a tune."

Sikes glares at him and John grins, "You're lucky the cap doesn't let me throw that thing into the ocean."

"My dear Bess? How could you?"

Sikes laughs and John feels victorious. There was a moment of peaceful silence before Sikes sighs, not directly looking at John.

"Mac's gettin' old... so am I. Not sure how much of this game we got left in us."

John fidgets, "Not that old."

"Feel older than we look, John."

John didn't say anything as he watched Sikes. He didn't like this, the way the man sat there with almost an empty look in his eye. John felt... afraid. Sikes had been there since the beginning, right alongside Mac. The thought of him just retiring or worse made John's heart ache. But retirement was better than the alternatives, there wasn't many better ones than that.

"Don't have Mac's crown in mind?" John attempted to joke despite his tone not caring his words as such.

"No, I think after this I'll go home. My last hurrah."

"Well, I'll bake you a cake."

Sikes smiles slightly, "Wouldn't mind that... not one bit."

"You're basic, right? Chocolate?"

"Tuxedo."

"Oh. Not basic. Not sure if I want to break my back for you."

"Not even for my retirement party?"

"You're not retiring. Cap will drag you back kicking and screaming."

Sikes laughs, "That's how he got me in this mess to begin with!"

John smiles, Sikes wasn't actually going to leave... right? He couldn't just leave, what would Bravo Team be without him? Without their lieutenant or captain? It wasn't happening.

"You make a face when you're thinking, ya know that? That's how I know you're never using your head when it matters."

John glares and Sikes shrugs. They say nothing for a moment, nothing on pending departure or the mission ahead. It didn't feel real.

___

He knew Chimera would be joining them, he just didn't expect them to join this soon. John felt as though he had no time to prepare, stopping in his tracks as he heard voices speaking a foreign language in the hanger. He was a coward, John was in touch with himself enough to know that. He saw Chimera's logo and almost launched himself into another panic attack, diving into a supply closet in the hanger to give himself a moment to breathe.

His heart was racing as he heard Russian outside in the hanger. It was childish, hiding like this. But he's always been a child, running from his emotions rather than facing them. He would've left the closet and ran at the first opportunity if Mac didn't sniff him out. He opened the closet and stared at John with a blank expression, maybe some disapprovement in his eyes.

"John..."

"I-"

"No more excuses, I'm tired of you acting like this," Mac growled as he grabbed John's collar and practically threw him out of the closet.

John stopped himself before he hit a truck, turning to yell at Mac but the man grabbed him and started dragging him through the hanger. John wanted to disappear when several of Nikolai's men turned their heads to stare as Captain MacMillan dragged his very own Sergeant Price by the collar like he was a kitten needing to be held by the scruff. It was humiliating.

Mac pushed him into the office in the back of the hanger, not so gently closing the door behind him as he stepped inside. John tried to get a word out but Mac silenced him with a glare. John chose to sit in the nearest chair as a response, which proved to be the smart move. Mac groaned, pinching his nose before he sits on the desk, staring down at John with an exasperated expression.

"Lad, what are you doing?"

"I was just checking-"

"Not about the closet. Well, not just the closet. Jonathan, you haven't been yourself for months. Skittish, quiet. Who is this?"

Mac motioned to all of John and John huffed, "That's a first. Thought you said I could do to learn how to be quiet."

Mac stares, unamused, "This is about Nikolai."

John chokes, "Nik- No! Of course it's not! He's been great! Look at all we've managed to accomplish-"

"When's the last time you talked to him?"

John avoided looking at Mac, "Been a minute..."

"He told me he hasn't gotten a word out of you for four months. John, he's been trying to talk to you for four months."

Shame and guilt squeezed his heart, John now being able to look in Mac's direction even if he wanted to. He tried to keep Nikolai out of his mind and now he couldn't stop thinking about him. Thinking about how the man felt with he didn't answer his calls, when he went out of his way to avoid running into him. He was childish and cowardly, a pathetic combination.

"Lad, you like him."

"He's pretty cool, I mean- He's self made-"

Mac grunts, "Jonathan. You like him. I know you do."

John felt his heart drop, gripping the edge of the chair to the point his fingers ached. He couldn't look up at Mac, panic setting in as his mind started racing. Of course he knew, why wouldn't he? It was like Mac sensed his panic and got down in front of him, grabbing his knee to get his attention.

"John, there's nothing wrong with how you feel about him. I know you grew up being taught otherwise."

Mac has always been there, a driving force that kept John where he wanted to be. His father had tried everything he could to get him discharged, force him to come back. Mac got in the way, got him into the SAS and far away from his father and family's reach. John wasn't sure why he thought he could put Mac in the same light as them. He wasn't like them, didn't think like them.

John swallowed, "You know?"

"Yea, I do, lad. Knew plenty men like yourself. It doesn't affect your ability to shoot, to hold a gun, or how to run your mouth."

John laughed and Mac firmly patted his thigh before standing, John able to look at him now.

"Ya know, avoiding people isn't a good way to make friends, or for romance."

"Is this your approval?"

Mac laughs, "Approval? Tolerance. You can do better."

John grins, "Thought you liked him."

"I do. On a professional basis. I'd skin him alive and make a lamp."

Mac turns from him as John laughs, opening the office door. Chimera had returned to its normal chatter, uncaring for whatever occurred with Mac and John.

"He's flying in tonight. Has a bird, did you know that?"

"He flies?"

"Behave. I'll rough him up if he's nasty."

"Mac-"

The man doesn't stick around for John to get another word out, walking away from the office with determination. John watched a few Russians visibly step away from him as he marched past, unable to not think about Mac giving Nikolai a piece of his mind.

Nikolai... I need to make things right.

Mac was right, you can't make friends through avoidance. And friendship is where everything starts.

___

An unfamiliar bird over base is a good way to make everyone uneasy. It was a beautiful thing, Russian make, and definitely stolen. Nikolai owned it, and landed it with grace and experience. Watching him get out of the helo, more scruff than when John last saw him, made John almost lose his confidence.

He wasn't going to run away again.

John walked up, heart racing but he wasn't backing down. Nikolai looked genuinely surprised to see him, doing a double take to make sure he actually saw him approaching. He looked John up and down, blinking in surprise. He wasn't as welcoming, as relaxed. If John didn't know any better, he would think the man was nervous.

"Didn't know you knew how to fly," John said in an attempt to break the silence. Nikolai didn't immediately respond, probably wondering where John got the audacity. Well, he's always had it, as Sikes has said before.

"Of course I know how to fly. But you wouldn't know that, now would you?"

John steels himself, "Yea, I wouldn't. That's my mistake."

Nikolai stared at him in uneasy silence. John noticed some of his men approach rather cautious, one he recognized to be Kamarov. He looked between them, lingering on Nikolai like he was waiting for some kind of command of how to proceed. Nikolai just stared at John, face neutral like he was trying to get a rad on him.

Finally, he turned from John to face Kamarov, speaking to him in Russian. Kamarov nodded, John wondering what was said as the man walked away. After a second he realized that Nikolai was giving him a small moment to say something, anything that would make him think that repairing whatever they had was worthwhile.

John hadn't expected to get this far, maybe he did have a chance.

"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner. My treat."

Nikolai softened, "Dinner?"

"Nothing fancy. Wouldn't get your expectations up... if you want to, that is."

Nikolai huffed, "Depends. Where would you be taking me?"

John stared, Nikolai waiting. He shuffled away, looking at his feet.

"I didn't think that far ahead."

Nikolai laughs, John feeling warmth spread throughout his chest.

"Alright."

"Alright?"

"Buy me dinner."

John couldn't stop the grin, Nikolai smiling at him. He stepped away nodding, Nikolai chuckling when he bumps into the helo. Feeling his face heat up, John turned and quickly walked away, hearing Nikolai's laugh follow him.

___

"It's just a dinner. Just a dinner."

"John, you successfully asked that man out after avoiding him for months. The fact he's giving you this means it's not just dinner."

Oh, leave it to Kate to get his heart racing after he just managed to calm down.

"God... I'm fucked."

"If you're lucky."

"Kate," John hissed, hearing the woman laugh in response. At least someone was enjoying this, he was just anxious all around.

It was instinctual to call her, even hours before he was initially supposed to go out and meet Nikolai. He needed to tell someone who already knew the majority of the story. It was amazing knowing Mac supported him but the man was too eager to threaten to jump Nikolai if things didn't go well. At least Kate wasn't out right threatening him.

"A small, locally owned diner. You've been there plenty of times, the food is good and the atmosphere is great. You got this."

"Oh, you're being nice. I'm doomed."

He had get off soon to get ready, he had been watching the clock for the past ten minutes. He was supposed to pick up Nikolai, show him around town. God this felt like a date. A real date. He didn't want to fuck this up, not again. Nikolai didn't deserve that kind of disrespect. John certainly wouldn't survive it.

"I got expectations to meet."

"I'm sure they're low enough for you to manage."

John groaned, "Kate please. Am I supposed to get him in my car? It's shit, you know that!"

"Use Mac's."

"You already got him in it! He knows it's not mine!"

Kate was giggling, "Take Sikes' then."

John blinks as he thinks about it, staring at the clock before he goes to stand, "Kate I gotta go. I'll call you afterwards if I'm still alive."

"Good luck. Hope you're real lucky."

John groaned before hanging up, hearing the tail end of Kate cackling before he put the phone down. He had ten minutes before he had to get Nikolai, ten minutes to either force himself to drive his car to borrow someone else's. Nikolai had money, he felt nothing but shame and nervousness thinking about driving his old, beat up car that has seen a better decade.

He could get Sikes' car, well, SUV. It was nice, nice enough to meet Nikolai's level. Sikes wouldn't be happy but John would happily give him a reminder what he was leaving he when thought about retirement. John grabbed his nicer jacket before he left his quarters, trying to calmly walk down the hall. He went straight to Sikes' office, pleasantly surprised to find it empty and his car keys left unguarded.

Without a second thought, John grabs them before writing a quick and cheeky note for Sikes to find. He wrote a rather confident message, hoping to make Sikes want to desensitize every damn inch of his SUV. A lasting memory, no matter where he goes he will have that SUV. John felt rather hilarious for it.

He walked down the hall, rhythmed breathing to help calm himself. 

Grab the SUV, drive around to the hanger, pick up Nikolai, then drive out to get food. Simple.

Simple, it was simple. But that didn't mean it was easy.

John managed to get to the hanger but he didn't see Nikolai anywhere, not near his bird or with his men. John did arrive earlier than agreed upon, maybe caught Nikolai unexpected.

Or he's not coming. Wanted to give me a taste of my own medicine.

Once that thought entered his mind it would not leave. Mac always did he could get in his own head like no one else, his own worst enemy. Nikolai wouldn’t do that, would he? He seemed genuine when accepting John's invitation to dinner. Was it an act? Has he been played?

John's heart almost escaped through his throat as Kamarov knocks on the window, grinning when he noticed he caught him off guard. John groans and rolls down the window, Kamarov leaning against the SUV's door.

"He's getting pretty. Will be out in a moment."

John made a face, he wasn't sure which one but it made Kamarov laugh. The man walked away and said something to the other Chimera men, most of them joining him in laughter. John sighed as he leaned back against the seat, debating on whether or not he should get out and greet Nikolai when he finally leaves the hanger.

What did he tell his guys this was?

John felt his face flush, did Nikolai refer to this as a date? 

John looked out of the corner of his eye and saw Nikolai.

Pretty indeed.

He moved quickly, uncoordinated, opening the door and trying to get out smoothly but his foot was caught in something, probably the door itself. John had ten seconds of what was the slowest fall of his life before he smacked against the ground, hard. And a chorus of Russian laughter howled in response. There wasn't a moment in existence where John wanted to spontaneously combust more than then.

He laid there, that probably is what made them laugh harder. Then silence as someone grabs his arm to help him up.

"Sergeant! Are you alright?"

Nikolai. Of course he did that where Nikolai could see him. John couldn't face the man as he hauled him off the ground all too easily. He finally had no choice to look at him when the man grabs his face and turns it, keeping an arm around him to keep him upright. Maybe it was the close proximity of Nikolai's face that made John to try to free himself. It would show that Nikolai didn’t have a grasp easily escaped.

"Be still. You're bleeding. Let me clean it up-" his tone had a very light bit of laughter in it, Nikolai showing more concern than amusement.

John kept trying to look away as Nikolai wrestled him to sit back in the car. This was already off to a bad start.

"I'm fine! Had worse."

"Your nose is-"

"Fine! I- Dinner."

Nikolai finally releases him, "It can wait a moment. Please let me clean your face."

John couldn't keep saying no, sighing as Nikolai turned and walked back to the hanger. Not a single one of his men laughed, choosing to go back to their previous work. He felt like he missed something while he was kissing the ground, they weren't daring to look in his direction now.

Nikolai returned with a first aid kit, John groaning. The place he wanted to take him didn't close until late so that wasn't a worry. But John found it impossible to be still and let Nikolai clean his face. The man was so gentle, holding his face with great care. John couldn’t look at him even though his face was so close to his, he just looked away before finally closing his eyes.

"Not so bad, looks like the ground didn't want to damage your beautiful face."

John's face lit on fire, the sergeant jerking his head free from Nikolai's face. He cleared his throat, Nikolai backing up with a small smile. John motioned to the other side of the SUV, staring mostly at the ground as he did.

"Dinner."

Nikolai laughs, "I apologize, I was too forward."

John's face was red, he knew it was. Nikolai showed him mercy by packing the first aid kit back up and tossing it to one of his men before he went around to the passenger side. John forced himself to get back in the driver's seat, face still hot as he thought about Nikolai's words and tenderness.

Oh he wasn't going to survive tonight.

___

“Congratulations, sergeant, you found the one place in this country that has decent food.” 

It was an obvious prod, Nikolai trying to get a reaction. John glared at him and the man grinned, he was waiting for a more verbal response. But John wasn’t going to give it to him, instead he’d prod the man as well. 

“You finally get your quality time and this is what you choose to do with it?” 

Nikolai licked his lips, “Oh, I’d have better things in mind. For proper quality time, mind you. This is-” 

He silently searched for the word, John watching him. He could practically hear it already, it was right there. Nikolai didn’t say it, just sighed. 

“This is quality time. Base level.” 

John snorts, “I can upgrade the level of quality time?” 

“If you play nice... starting by answering my calls.” 

John looked back to his food, shame pricking at his skin. Nikolai didn’t say anything else, poking at his slice of pie. It was an awkward silence, John deserved that.  

He thought back to his relationship with Kate in the beginning. But he got past that moment of sourness. Could he move on with Nikolai? He gave him this chance, this moment to apologize. He deserved an apology, this man that John didn’t know all about but couldn’t stop thinking about for a second. 

“Well, I am a coward. Good at taking people for granted, hurting people who don’t deserve it.” 

“A coward? Not you,” Nikolai disagreed, “I fondly think back to when you first impressed me.” 

A stolen cigarette, that’s what came to John’s mind upon Nikolai’s mention of that car chase.

"Cowards avoid things. Avoid talking to people they actually want to talk to," John muttered, he wasn't as hungry as he was moments ago.

Nikolai reached across the table and grabbed John's free hand, the man jerking up to look at him. There was understanding in Nikolai's eyes, it was like he understood what John was feeling on a deeper level than previously. There wasn't any words in that short moment, just a comfort and relief washing over him. He squeezed Nikolai's hands before letting go, the man sitting back on the other side of the table.

"It's not safe to be open in such a way, sergeant. I grew up in the system, never had a stable home life. I've seen people get killed over petty disagreements, let alone something they cannot help."

This was the first time John heard of this, out of everything he learned from Kate or hearing from Nikolai himself, this was something personal. He was letting him in, letting him get close, even after those months of silence. John knew he could never betray that trust, he'll never let his own fear get the better of him.

"I grew up rich."

Nikolai smiled, "Oh?"

"That first dinner you treated me and Kate to? That place was like going back home," John didn't want to share too much, while Nikolai opened up to him he didn't give too much information. John would do the same, match him.

"Had the finest silk sheets growing up, silver utensils all my life. Never been happier to get away from it."

Nikolai's smile was softer now, "I found people like me, even in our not so welcoming world. I didn't know stepping away from them in the end would be the best decision for me."

Cryptic messages, Nikolai was certainly sharing more than what he was used to. John didn't push for more, finally taking a bite of food (now colder than what he would've liked) and a drink of his watered down fizzy drink. They finished their plates in silence and John went to pay, but Nikolai wasn't going to let that happen in peace.

"Nikolai, put that wallet away."

"From riches to rags, I insist to cover this."

Oh that made John's eye twitch. He turned to the man who barely containing a gleeful grin, he was purposely prodding at him.

"I'm paying, Nik, and you're just going to have to let it happen. My treat, 'member?"

Nikolai grinned and finally allowed him to get out of the booth to pay. The waiter had been watching them this entire time, trying to act like he hadn't. John visited the diner enough to recognize a few of the staff, he didn't recognize this guy. At least the regular staff know not to stare at him.

When John returned to Nikolai so they could leave, the man was still grinning at him. John knew he was waiting for him to say something about it, so now John wasn't going to.

"Alright, let's get out of here."

"Hm? You are done with me already?"

"'Course not, got other things in mind."

Nikolai followed him outside, John was planning to just get in the car and leave, but Nikolai had other things planned.

"Where are you going?"

"A walks sounds lovely, no?"

John huffs out a short laugh as Nikolai walks out of the car park and into town. He had no choice but to follow him, he couldn't allow the man to get lost. There was a whole militia waiting for him to come back in one piece so John better deliver. He jogged to catch up to Nikolai, the man not slowing for a second as he ventured away from the diner.

"It feels lovely tonight."

"It's cold."

Nikolai looks at him, "Would you like to visit my home town?"

John hums, "Little earlier for that, isn't it? How long have we known each other?"

"That didn't stop you."

John glares and Nikolai laughs, sidestepping to avoid a swipe from him. Nikolai stepped back over after John stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"What was that you called me earlier?"

"I've called you many things in my head."

"Out loud. Nik, was it? Rather informal."

John flushes, "I-"

"I like it."

John chews on his lip, walking next to Nikolai in silence. Nikolai chose to be quiet, enjoying the walk, cool breeze, staring up at the sky with a light-hearted smile. You would never know this was an arms dealer, a man who profits off war. He didn't come off as that kind of person, scars and questionable background be damned.

He wanted to say something, as he stared at Nikolai, say anything to add to the moment. But John was afraid he wouldn't be able to do that, so he remained quiet. Staring, and he knew that Nikolai noticed. He was still smiling, he felt warm to stand next to even in the chilly evening.

"Maybe we should move on with your activity list, so you can return that borrowed vehicle."

Nikolai looked to John, smug, and John was horrified. Nikolai laughed as John stuttered, trying to get out a response in his defense.

"I know what your car looks like, sergeant. Maybe pick me up in it sometime."

Nikolai headed back to the car park and John watched him, dumbfounded.

"How do you know what my car looks like!?"

Nikolai didn't reply, just skipped ahead to the SUV.

___

"It was Kate, wasn't it?"

They took a longer route back to base, enjoying the ride with music playing softly from the radio. John couldn't get past the car comment.

"What fun would it be telling you? I need to keep my air of mystery."

John glared, "You're mysterious enough."

Nikolai's laugh would never get old. John could see him smile all night, hear him laugh all night. He wouldn't dare say this out loud, that would be too much.

They pulled back into base, security stopping them.

"Out late, sergeant. Hot date?"

A joke, but John had a hard time taking it as such. It stayed with him as he drove them to the hanger occupied by Chimera, and it apparently stayed with Nikolai, as well. They stopped in front of the hanger, Nikolai's men no where in sight. 

"Well, that's the night."

"That's all?" Nikolai sounded amused yet disappointed. 

"Well, work night and all..."

It was awkward, how was he supposed to end this? Nikolai was watching him expectantly, what was he waiting for? John was out of his element. The diner, walking through town, the park, the night drive-

How does he say good night to Nikolai?

"I may be... rusty."

"Rusty? In what, sergeant?"

John didn't get to speak as Nikolai reaches over and takes his chin in his hand, forcing him to look at him. Everything slowed in that moment, John's heart pounding and his mind screaming. Nikolai pulled him close and he followed without resistance. He couldn't remember the last time he ever kissed someone, let alone someone he was so drawn to. It was sweet but awkward.

When Nikolai parted away, John was staring at him with wide eyes, unable to say a word. He stared long enough to make Nikolai nervous, maybe even make him doubt himself and lose confidence. John didn't let him stew too long, grabbing Nikolai's shirt and forcing him close again, this time kissing with effort. Nikolai melted almost immediately, a hand cupping his jaw as he leaned completely into John.

When they parted again, John was grinning stupidly as was Nikolai. It was a wonderful feeling, like he could finally breathe.

"That's how you end a date, sergeant," Nikolai muttered and John laughed, "I would show you another way but... I want to know you."

"I want to know you, too."

It was all too soft and sweet for men like them. But it was something John needed terribly, he wasn't even aware of how much he needed it until that moment. Nikolai ended the night with another kiss, soft on his cheek before he got out of the SUV and headed into the hanger. John watched him until he was out sight, only then driving back to the car park to return the SUV.

___

"You look... happy," Banks muttered, watching him with great suspicion.

John wasn't surprised, he felt better than he had in years. True, genuine happiness, of course it was noticed.

"I had a good night."

"Right... in LT's car?"

John bites back a laugh as Sikes, who had previously gave him a wide berth the entire morning, whipped his head around to glare at them. Banks snorted and ducked his head, suppressing his laughter into his arm. Mac walked in then, with Nikolai, and Banks was putting all his training towards not cackling at Sikes' expression.

"Gentlemen, business," Mac grunted.

Nikolai chose to sit next to John and John felt giddy. Mac looked between them like he knew something, and he wasn't pleased about what he knew. But he didn't say anything on it, choosing to move on to the task at hand.

John tried to focus, but it was hard when Nikolai insisted on holding his hand under the table.

___

"You kissed him? Kissed him!?"

Apparently being polite and not waking Kate up in the night to tell her was the wrong move. He chose to go with her annoyance.

"Yea, we're having a spring wedding. When's yours?"

Kate was hysterical, in laughter and other reasons. John listened, laughing, as he stared at the postcard that was left on his desk. It was written in Russian, a heart at the end, and John knew his next personal mission. Learn Russian, and hopefully write out everything he felt that he's never been able to say out loud in English.

[servndipityz]

Okay but what ur interpretation is on how nam gyu's life n personality was before joining the games ykyk cuz the show barely revealed anything about him, his background, family, etc

oooo that's such a good question!!! i've thought about it a million times, i feel like it would've been so cool to see a lil bit more of each character's lives before the games.

i feel like nam-gyu’s life before the games was pretty shitty. i mean, if it weren’t, he wouldn’t have joined them. he mentioned working at club pentagon as a promoter, but i don’t think he held any real position of power.

sure, he probably had some connections—otherwise, he wouldn’t have come into contact with thanos—but i doubt anyone at the club actually respected him. at some point, he just became the club promoter, the guy who’s always been there. but still, nobody really took him seriously.

how’d he even end up at club pentagon though?

honestly, i don’t think his childhood was that bad. probably came from a pretty average middle-class family—one that wasn’t overly affectionate, but nothing too rough either.

he’s the youngest, with one or two older brothers. definitely no sisters; he doesn’t know shit about women. his brothers were probably a lot older, too—like, the oldest had a two-year gap with the middle, but nam-gyu was born at least six years after them. to him, they were the coolest people ever, even if they mostly ignored him. still, he followed them everywhere, copying everything they did. absolutely the reason he started smoking as a teenager.

this is an incredibly niche headcanon, but hear me out. when they were kids, his older brothers were obsessed with some random color—red, blue, whatever. nam-gyu, desperate to impress them, decided that would be his favorite color too. when he told them, they probably didn’t give a single fuck, just shrugged him off. but to this day, that random color is still his “favorite” color.

all of this is just to say that while i don’t think he sees thanos as a brother, his relationship with his older siblings as a kid definitely translates into how he treats thanos—and how he allows thanos to treat him.

i don’t think nam-gyu was a bad student. he was probably pretty smart, just only did well in the subjects that actually interested him. overall, though, he didn’t do too bad. he was never the “good kid,” but since he was quiet and reserved, teachers would always sit him next to the rowdy kid in class, hoping he’d "calm them down". he hated it, but he definitely picked up a few behaviors from them.

his teenage years are when things started going downhill. he probably had a group of friends, but most of them weren’t good friends. he was always the one standing behind someone louder, more popular—easily overlooked. the people who did notice him didn’t really like him. he was probably a little rude, and his attempts at seeming “mysterious” just made him come off as kind of an asshole. he was also probably the butt of the joke in his friend group sometimes. the guy they’d always ask for his homework.

around the same time, things at home started getting rough. his oldest brother probably got into some shady business—maybe dealing drugs or gambling—but whatever it was, it had their parents worried sick. the middle brother was likely involved in some of it too, which meant constant arguments at home. nam-gyu, not wanting to deal with it, started spending more and more time outside. that’s when he picked up smoking, just like he’d seen his brothers do.

during this time, his father’s health started declining—badly. nam-gyu had probably been considering college after high school. it’s definetely what his parents wanted, what his brothers had done before him. i feel like he’d be into public relations or marketing—something business-adjacent, but not straight-up economics.

that was until the summer after high school. he started partying more, hitting clubs and casinos with his friends, harmless fun, at first. somewhere along the way, he met a friend of a friend—a club promoter who seemed to have it all figured out. this guy had money, girls, everything 18-year-old nam-gyu envied. they hung out for a while, and eventually, the guy offered nam-gyu to work with him as a club promoter.

by then, nam-gyu knew his father wouldn’t be able to keep his job much longer. his oldest brother was still paying some of his debt, the middle one had enlisted in the military out of pure indecisiveness, and their finances were at an all-time low.

maybe working at a club wouldn’t be such a bad idea, huh? he’d make some money, have fun, meet people. he’d go to college later, he just needed to work there for a while, right?

loud incorrect buzzer.

once he got into the club scene, there was no going back. at first, it was fine—organizing events, making connections, all that. but eventually, he got caught up in illegal shit.

it’s not like he wanted to. but it’s also not like he didn’t want to. all kinds of people came to clubs, and he realized that the less legal it was, the more people showed up—and the more money he made.

he got really, really into drugs. any drug. after all, he was easy to convince. they were fun, they helped him socialize better.

but no matter how messed up he got, he was always meticulous when planning events. he knew exactly who to invite, how to promote them, and to who. successful events were great. but unsuccessful ones were dangerous. turns out, a guy can lose a lot of money from a failed event. he learned that the hard way.

at some point, every night became a blur—getting disrespected by the club pentagon staff, getting into it with a bouncer, a particularly bad drug trip, some girl flirting with him only for him to realize she was a prostitute.

it felt like all the money he made was slipping through his fingers just as fast. and with his father’s death, nam-gyu was running out of options.

then, one night, high out of his mind at some random “friend’s” house, he found MG Coin. he was just scrolling through youtube, trying to find some old vine he was referencing to his friends when a video popped up.

“how to get rich in just one week.”

and boy oh boy, what a great idea. in his hazed state, it felt like salvation had just fallen into his lap. so, he clicked on it. some nerd on the screen told him to buy a random crypto coin, and of course, he did. how could he not?

the next morning, when he finally processed what he’d done, he checked—and holy shit, it was working. the value was going up. so naturally, he binge-watched every video that guy had ever made and dumped every last penny into Dalmatian, just like his beloved crypto guru told him to.

if he had any doubts, whatever drug was running through his veins at the time numbed them out.

but luck only lasts so long. and we all know what happens next.

i got too carried away with this. english isn't my first language so hopefully there are no mistakes. hopefully this wasn't ooc lmao.

thank you so much for sending ur asks btw! ive been seeing them all, and while i'm not sure i'll be able to write all of them, i'll sure try, they're all great :)

dividers by aquazero

[misc-obeyme]

Hello there! I hope you’re doing well, I was wondering if you could do a few head cannons or a ficlet (whichever you prefer) where the brothers (and/or dateables) find out that MC is multilingual.

I’m mostly thinking in the context that they didn’t know before and suddenly hear MC speaking said language, but you can change that if you prefer of course! Or not do the request entirely if this idea doesn’t strike your fancy.

Have a nice day/night!

Hi, anon!

Okay I wasn't sure if multilingual meant MC speaks two languages or if it's like more than two, so I kinda did a little bit of both. And really I think everything could apply to either option, so hopefully that all still makes sense!

Thank you for the request!

brothers react to hearing GN!MC speaking in a different language

Warnings: none!

Lucifer

When he first hears it, he’s sure he’s just tired. He’s never heard you speak any other language before. Surely his mind is playing tricks on him. Starts thinking he must really need to take a break like everyone is always saying.

If you do it again, then he’ll ask. MC, are you multilingual? Demonstrate all the languages you speak. However many it is, he's impressed. He wants to know the details of how you learned this language. Tell him more about it.

He will ask you to teach him the language so he can speak it with you. Really loves it when he gets fluent and can carry on conversations with you that other people don’t understand. He will say all kinds of things with the sole purpose of making you blush.

Lucifer will find records of music that’s sung in languages you know. Might ask you for a translation of the lyrics, but mostly just wants to share the experience with you. Sit with him in the music room to listen and he won’t be able to stop himself from holding you close, whispering sweet sayings that you've taught him in your ear.

Mammon

Woah! MC! Since when could ya speak more than one language? You’re always surprising him with the things you can do!

He will ask you to teach him all the swear words. Says them to Lucifer under his breath more because it makes you laugh than because he really means it.

Wants to know the circumstances in which you learned this language. Is it your native tongue? Or did you just learn a whole new language for some reason? Either way you had to learn a second language at some point and that sounds like a lot of work. Wouldn’t do it himself but he’s impressed that you could.

Actually picks up parts of the language pretty easily. Depending on how often you use it around him, Mammon will be able to imitate your most used phrases. He’ll say stuff without knowing what it actually means, he’s just repeating you. If you tell him what it means and how to use it, it will just become part of his own speech from that point on. Only says lovey things when the two of you are alone.

Leviathan

The first time he hears you speaking it, he’s confused. What was that? Did you just speak in a different language? Quick, MC! Tell him all the different languages you know!

Instantly wants to hire you to translate any media that’s in a language he can’t speak. Video games, manga, shows, movies, even songs! If you insist on teaching him so he can do it himself, he’ll actually be excited to learn. Teach him everything!

Absolutely will watch movies and shows in any languages you speak with you. He’s gonna need subtitles. He’ll ask you about how accurate the subs are. Makes you go through every single line and complains about any inaccuracies you guys find. Posts your translations in online forums.

Talk to him in your language and he’ll be flustered even if he has no idea what you’re saying. You could be telling him to clean his room, but it sounds so romantic? Now he’s blushing like crazy. Levi actually really likes to hear you speak to him in a different language. If he's learning it for himself, he won't get as flustered if he knows what you're actually saying. Either way, he's going to hesitantly ask you to say it again.

Satan

You’re sitting near each other somewhere when you ask a question out loud in a different language. Without looking up or missing a beat, Satan answers your question in the same language. Several moments pass before the two of you look at each other in surprise. Then you both launch into a conversation in that language about how surprised you are that the other person knows it.

This guy has spent many years learning all kinds of languages and that includes human world ones. His main goal was to be able to read books in their native languages rather than translations. But it turns out he’s just good at it so he speaks pretty fluently too.

Now that he knows this about you, he’s almost always talking to you in a language the others doesn’t understand. Finds it especially entertaining to discuss his prank ideas with you while Lucifer is sitting right there.

Do not think for one second that he’s not going to take this opportunity to recite poetry in that language to you. Blushes the whole time, but does it anyway. Please indulge him, MC. You are the only one who can truly appreciate these romantic lines.

Asmodeus

Did he just hear you speaking in a different language? Oh, MC, you’re so full of surprises! He has no idea what you just said, but he is swooning! Please flirt with him in your language, he’s really going to fall even harder for you now. You could say anything but if you do it in the right tone of voice you will get a dramatic reaction from him.

Teach him how to say “I love you” and things like “hug me” and “kiss me.” Know that once you do, he’ll be saying them to you all the time. Asmo might ask you to teach him some insults, too, just so he can use them on unsuspecting demons who have no idea what he's saying.

Designs some clothes with sayings in your language on them. Won’t tell anyone what they mean - he only knows because you told him. But everybody else is just going to have to wonder about it! This is a secret between the two of you! (Well, and everybody else who speaks that language… but that is not the point.)

Might start learning the rest of the language without you knowing. Gets Satan to help him. Then when you’re alone with him he starts saying a whole speech about how much he loves you. Giggles happily at the look on your face before kissing you.

Beelzebub

The first time he hears you, he thinks he must have heard wrong. Blinks in confusion. What was that you said, MC? He’s not sure he heard you right. Explain to him that you were actually speaking a different language and he’ll be even more surprised.

He wants to know more about it. Where did you learn it and why? Beel asks you about the names of food. He doesn’t want to learn them necessarily he just wants to hear you say them.

If you tend to refer to a specific food in the other language, he will start calling it that too. Just straight up replaces that word in his vocabulary. Might do this for non food related things as well. Pretty much just does that thing where he picks up little words and phrases from you simply because he's absorbed it from being around you so much.

He likes to listen to you speak in a different language, even if he can't understand anything you're saying. Might ask you to say anything just so he can listen to the sound of your voice. You could read a dictionary to him and he would be all about it. Content to just sit quietly and listen.

Belphegor

The only one who doesn't even notice at first. It's not that he doesn't care, it's just that it doesn't even register. For some reason, it seems perfectly normal to him that you speak multiple languages. He considers you to be a smart person, someone on Satan's level, and Satan knows several languages, so why wouldn't you?

After he hears you using that language a few times, he gets curious. He doesn't know what you're saying, but he does realize if you're using the same language, especially in the same context. Always letting out a string of it when you hurt yourself? Maybe you rant in that language when you're frustrated? He recognizes the sound of it.

Now he's going to ask you about it. What language is this, MC? Tell him about it, please. He'll ask you to teach him how to say things like "take a nap with me" and "Lucifer sucks." The first time he says that last one, Satan does a spit take.

Belphie will ask you to sing in your language. He wants to hear some songs that were originally written in it. He's especially interested in lullabies. If you sing him one, he'll fall asleep on your lap pretty quickly. Might get needy and ask you to sing to him every night.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[igotlovestruck]

easy on me [ christian pulisic ]

you were young when you and christian broke up. you made a huge decision for the both of you back then and you were confident enough to know that the decision you made would be better for the both of you, but what happens when he learns about the biggest secret you’ve been hiding from him since you separated ways?

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — christian pulisic x ex!reader; oc!emily, oc!ezekiel, oc!andrew . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °.   *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — angst, unplanned pregnancy, profanities, inaccurate description of mentioned places (as i’m not american, nor do i live in the states) . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °.   *

[ 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 ] — 6,219 words . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 📲 °.   *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ the LONGEST scenario i've written, all thanks to disney+ hahahaha i’ve rewatched the parent trap and the game plan the other day, so i thought about this. i also plan on writing a parent trap-like story, but i’m still figuring out how i’d write it lol but anyway, enjoy! ❤️ btw, i haven’t betaread this so if there’s any errors, let me know and i’ll edit it!

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

watching this little kid grow up was both scary and amazing. five years have passed since you met him, since you first heard his heartbeat. five years ago, he opened his eyes and welcomed himself in this cruel world one september morning. watching him grow up to the person he was today felt both accomplishing and depressing. ezekiel mate was his name, and yes–you’ve named him after his father. his father who is not aware of his own existence. it wasn’t ezekiel’s fault though, you’ve made this decision by yourself and there was nothing you could do but uphold your decision and do your responsibilities as a mother–a single mother in fact. you thought it would be the best for all sides, for you and ezekiel’s father. 

he has his own career to think about, he was about to make his name known to people. to be known in the sport he loved most and all people would cheer his name, plaster printed copies of his face and name across the whole country. you didn’t want to ruin that opportunity for him, a child would only affect his career. between practices, training, matches, flights–surely, christian wouldn’t have any time to take care of a child. with you in north america and him in europe, it just simply wouldn’t work. you still remember the night you broke up with him, in fact, you can’t forget about it. it haunts you like a stupid nightmare, it keeps you awake most of the time.

you sacrificed a lot for ezekiel. giving up university for a year to navigate things on how to be a mom, and trying to make ends meet by working–sure, your parents were there to help financially and take care of your baby in times you needed them, but you wanted to be able to support ezekiel on your own. balancing work, university and a growing child was hard and there were days that you wanted to just give up. but you didn’t, because you were the only parent that ezekiel has in his life.

“mama?” you heard a tiny voice call you, waking you up from reverie. ezekiel’s tiny footsteps were heard as he ran towards you. “why are you still awake?” you smiled at the little boy, gently picking him up from the ground and sat him on the kitchen counter in front of you. his slightly curly hair, deep dimples and honey brown eyes that look so captivating under the light, reminded you so much of his father. not to mention, they both share the same birthday.

“just… thinking of something, baby.” you answer, “why are you still awake? we have a flight to catch tomorrow, you know?”

“i know! we’re going to florida, to aunt emily and i’m too excited to sleep, mama.”

you giggled, “well, we both need to sleep now. we have an early flight and you need to have a lot of energy when you get to aunt emily’s place.”

you took ezekiel in your arms, making sure that his favourite stuffed toy was secured in his arms as you made your way back to his room. gently, you put him to his bed and tucked him in, sitting on the edge of his bed as you stared at him, waiting for his eyelids to shut as he told you how his day was. ezekiel spent the day with your parents, they lived nearby and offered to babysit him while you went to work.

minutes later, ezekiel’s words were slurring. meaning, he was about to drift off to dreamland. you both have to be awake by 5 am to catch your flight, and it was already almost midnight. you don’t need a fussy, grumpy 4-year-old throughout your 3 hour flight to florida. when you were sure that ezekiel was fast asleep, you planted a kiss on his head, tips of your fingers running through his soft cheeks as you stared at him. 

you left ezekiel’s room, quietly shutting the door closed. instead of going to your room to rest, you opted to stay in the living room. you sat there in silence, letting your own thoughts eat you again. you felt anxious, but you can’t pinpoint the exact reason why. you stare at the wall across from where you were sitting, it was filled with pictures of your family and some pictures of you and ezekiel. the ones from his birth, to his birthdays and his first day of preschool. you remembered that day clearly, when you fetched ezekiel from your parents’ place after his first day of preschool about a few months ago. you two were driving back to your place from your parents, he was quietly playing with his ipad behind you when he asked something you didn’t expect.

“mama, do i have a papa?” he asked, eyes still on his gadget. your heart dropped at the question. “i saw my friends with their papa today. do i have a papa?”

you remember pulling over the side of the road to take a deep breath before answering. he picked it up so early, noticing that it was only the two of you the past four years. 

“of course you have a papa, my love.” you answered, not really sure what to say next.

“why is he not here? does my papa hate us?”

sometimes, four year olds ask the most piercing questions and they don’t even know how it could change one’s whole mood, just like what your son was doing. “he doesn’t hate us, your papa is just… busy.” 

“is it my fault, mama?”

you sighed, removing your seatbelt and faced ezekiel. “no, baby. it’s not your fault, it will never be your fault.” you said, smiling to let him know that he wasn’t in any sort of trouble. “it’s just… mama and papa needed some time away from each other. it doesn’t mean that it’s your fault, baby. it’s never your fault.”

ezekiel smiled at you, mumbling a small okay. you chose to go to the nearest fast food chain drive thru, not in the mood to cook as you were tired the whole day and with ezekiel’s questions to you, sure enough you wouldn’t be able to focus on making dinner. 

“it’s mama’s fault, zeke.” you murmured, holding a picture of your son. “i’m the one to blame.”

—

“if you don’t wait for mama, you might be lost and i will be very sad.” you tell your 4-year-old as you wait for your bags. 

the flight from new york to florida was easy, because your son was asleep throughout the duration of the flight. however, it was during the landing when he woke up and started to be talkative and hyper. you only had at least an hour or two of sleep from last night, waking up at 3 am to catch a 6 am flight. ezekiel was usually listening to you every time you two go out, but since he’s all napped out, you were dealing with a hyper kid (you blame yourself for giving him cookies before you landed). 

ezekiel held your hand as you pushed your luggage towards the arrivals exit. you two were greeted with a big sign that says welcome to florida, y/n and zeke! by your best friend, emily and her husband, andrew. your son ran straight to his godmother, he couldn’t read the sign yet but he knew it was his favourite aunt.

“zeke, you’re a big boy now!” emily exclaimed, hugging him tight and letting go of your son a few seconds later to face you. “and you, a hot mama, you’re looking beautiful as ever!”

you playfully hit her arm and hugged her. the four of you made way for the other people in the airport, heading to the parking lot. emily and andrew had invited you over to celebrate the fourth of july with them, as well as to meet your goddaughter, celeste. they invited the two of you to stay with them for a week as emily said that you two had a lot of catching up to do.

the drive from the airport to the emmons’ residence wasn’t that far, it only took the four of you about forty-five minutes. emily and andrew’s place was beautiful and cosy, perfect for the couple and the family they dreamed of building. your room for the week had a view of the lake, which you liked the most. emily had ezekiel for a few minutes as you unpack your stuff and prepare ezekiel’s swimming trunks.

“we can go boat riding in the next few days!” emily told ezekiel, “but for now, we can swim in the backyard and play with celeste. is that okay with you, zeke?”

ezekiel nodded his head, turning to you. “your swimming trunks are in the room. change first and go back to mama so i can put sunscreen on you, alright?”

��yes mama!”

ezekiel changed his clothes and had his sunscreen applied, excitedly joining andrew in the pool. you and emily were lounging with her 4-month-old daughter, celeste. the day passed by so quickly; it seems like ezekiel enjoyed his first day in florida as after dinner, instead of asking for his ipad to play and watch his favourite kids show, he asked if he could go to sleep. poor kid must’ve been exhausted running around the backyard with andrew. when you were certain that ezekiel was tucked and safe on the bed, you went back to the living room where the couple was waiting for you.

“little too early for wine, isn’t it?” you smiled, taking a seat across the couple. 

“it’s never too early for wine.” said emily, “plus, celeste is already asleep and hopefully, won’t wake up for the next three hours.”

the three of you were talking about life now that you were all parents now. unlike you, emily was fairly new to parenthood and she has someone by her side throughout the journey. were you jealous? maybe you were, a little. but you had a choice and your choice was to go through this alone anyway, so you immediately shut those thoughts off. 

unlike you, your best friend did everything by the book. she and andrew got married over a year ago, gave birth to their first child, and not long ago, they recently bought a home in a gated community which is why they moved from new york to florida. nevertheless, you were happy for emily. she deserved it after all.

as the three of you continued to converse, andrew had asked a question you weren’t expecting: “are you on good terms with ezekiel’s dad?” you understood why he had asked you that, he had no idea about your relationship with christian because the two of you met when he and emily started dating during their years in university, unlike emily who knew you since you were still in diapers. 

“babe, that’s not—”

“it’s okay, emily.” you said, “he and i have not spoken since i was pregnant with ezekiel. i have no idea what’s going on with his life now, but wherever he is, i just hope he’s doing well in his career.”

since you and christian broke up, you made sure not to see his name or hear anything about him at all. blocked him and muted his name and any word tied to his name including football and soccer. it wasn’t easy at first but you got used to it as the years passed by. you wonder what happened in his career now, was he still in dortmund? which part of europe was he living now? how was his career in the national team? 

the past five years, you’ve been avoiding christian and everything related to him, yet you go back to square one whenever someone asks you about him. you and christian only dated for a year, and your relationship was really private back then. only a handful of people knew about it. nobody knows outside of your family and emily that ezekiel’s father was christian. the people around you and your family thought that you were knocked up by some random guy you met in university. did it hurt? of course it did. having people see you as a careless young adult, have them judge you for being a parent at such a young age but that didn’t stop you from trying your best to be a good parent to ezekiel.

however, sooner or later, ezekiel would ask you about his father—it already happened one time, and you know it’s bound to happen again in the future. was it selfish to hide your child from his own father? yes, it was, but you couldn’t blame yourself for wanting to protect him. you were aware how cruel people could be, especially people who idolise christian. you could take the hate from them but the thought of your only child getting unnecessary hate from the people who don’t know the whole story simply breaks your heart and makes you anxious.

but, who knows what the future holds?

—

“andrew, y/n and i will go for a quick run!” emily announced to her husband. 

andrew appears in the kitchen, celeste was in his arms and trying to make the baby burp. “is it okay to leave ezekiel here? i mean, andrew’s already taking care of celeste.” you said, a bit worried that andrew couldn’t handle two kids. 

andrew chuckles, “i’ll be fine as soon as celeste falls asleep. me and mr. big boy here can play video games while she naps.” he answered, “now, you ladies go. we’ll be fine here.”

“are you sure, andrew?”

“y/n, andrew has babysat most of his nephews and nieces all at once, and he has 6 of them. i think he can handle an infant and a child.” emily laughs, “now, let’s go!”

“alright, alright!” you gave in, levelling with ezekiel’s eyes. “promise mama that you’ll be a good boy for uncle andrew?”

you extend out your pinky, and ezekiel wrapped his around yours, putting a smile on everyone’s faces. seconds after that, you and emily were out of the door and started running laps around the whole neighbourhood. it took you two an hour before you stopped by a local park, finding a shade to relax for a bit. the both of you were quiet, enjoying the sound of the trees as you relaxed. 

“i’m sorry about andrew’s question last night.” emily suddenly said, “you know, the one about he-who-must-not-be-named.”

you let out a chuckle and shook your head. “it’s okay, ems. it was just an innocent question.” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt. “it’s really not the first time someone asked about him anyway.”

“what do you mean?”

“zeke. he asked about his dad during his first day of school, a few months back.” you answer, “he asked if he had a dad, if his dad hates us because he wasn’t present and… was it his fault why his dad’s not around.”

“oh my… y/n, i’m sorry.”

emily hugs you tightly, feeling a bit sad as zeke was too young to think about such things. you never told anyone about your conversation with your son that day until today, and it felt so good to finally get it out of your chest. 

“i feel so selfish to keep him away from christian, you know?” you open up, “but it was the only thing i could think of. ems, you know how well his career was going back then. i didn’t want him to sacrifice such a huge opportunity for me and ezekiel back then.”

at this point, you were tearing up. you couldn’t help it. you were always vulnerable when you talked about ezekiel and christian. back when you found out that you were pregnant, you made this decision to break up with christian and have the baby alone. back then it felt like you shot two birds with one stone, christian’s career being the one bird and the other is protecting your child from the public eye. 

you and emily stayed at the park for a few more minutes, just until you cried out and walked back home. maybe it was time, it’s been years after all and christian deserve to know the truth. the whole day passed, ezekiel enjoyed spending it with you and the emmons, taking you both on a boat ride which ezekiel loved the most. seeing your child’s smile from ear to ear warmed your heart, yet you felt guilty. since ezekiel was born, there was this guilt that was running through your heart; that nagging guilt saying that you were depriving both of them by taking away the chance to be in each other’s life. 

fuck it, i’m gonna do it. you thought to yourself in the middle of the night while staring at the ceiling.

christian thought his eyes were deceiving him the moment he saw the notification, his fingers immediately pressing on the message. usually, he would ignore message requests, but as he saw your name, he had flashbacks all of a sudden. it’s been five years, yet your name was still imprinted in his mind. five years of thinking where did he go wrong in your relationship, if there was something he did that made you end your relationship, and if it had something to do with his career. five years ago, his career was thriving and his love life came crashing. 

he remembered the night you broke up with him, it was when you flew to visit him during your winter break and it happened on a typical day. the two of you did the usual routine since you arrived, wake up together, eat together and after that, he went to training while you stayed at his place. by the time he arrived, you ate dinner together. he even offered to wash the dishes as you already cooked. life was perfect, or so he thought. 

“is there something bothering you?” he asked when he noticed the change of mood while you two lied in bed. “talk to me.”

“it’s just nothing.” 

normally, christian would ask you again–if you were okay, what was bothering you and all. but this time, he heard your tone that signified you weren’t really in the mood, so he let it go. the two of you cuddled up in bed, with you as the little spoon and listening to each other breathing. until you asked him a question.

“what do you think of kids, chris?”

“what do you mean what do i think of kids?”

“you know, what is your opinion about kids? about having and raising your own?”

christian chuckles, letting you turn around to face him. “well, i would like to have one, maybe two or three.” he answered, “but definitely not now. we’re still young, we have dreams to achieve. big dreams in our careers. what about you?”

there was a brief moment of silence before you spoke up, “yeah, same answer as you, i guess.”

he remembers changing the topic that night, he didn’t notice your lack of energy speaking to him–thinking that maybe you were just tired and weren’t in the mood to speak. the following day, same routine. only then, when he arrived home, you two got into an argument that eventually led to the end of your relationship.

hey, i can make time. we can meet tomorrow. after agreeing where you’ll meet, christian couldn’t help but wonder what was the reason behind it. will it be the closure he’s been longing for the past five years?

morning came and only a few hours left until you meet christian. you let emily know about your plan, agreeing to watch ezekiel and let you borrow her car to drive to the park where you and christian agreed to meet. to say that you were nervous was an understatement of what you’re feeling. you still wonder what his reaction would be and how he would take such a huge news you were about to drop. 

the time left passed by so quickly. you kissed your son goodbye and drove to carlin park. when you arrived, you were stunned by the number of people. surely, you didn’t want to tell your baby daddy that you were pregnant with his child in front of hundreds of people, especially since he was a known athlete. anxiety pools all over you again, taking deep breaths before getting out of the car and head to the agreed place. 

“christian?” you called, walking towards him. he turned around and smiled at you. you haven’t seen this man in years. he has changed so much, he looked like a stranger you know too well. his beard was fully grown, it looked good on him. his left arm was filled with tattoos. looking at christian now, you could see what ezekiel would look like in the future; after all, he was the spitting image of his father.

“it’s nice to see you again, y/n.” he said, “shall we go for a walk at the beach or do you want to sit down?”

“we could go for a walk.”

you could hear your heart thumping at this point as you walked alongside christian. 

“it's been five years, y/n. how have you been?” he asked.

you took a deep breath, “well, i graduated. i also work now, so i guess i’m fine.” you answer, not sure if it was the answer he wanted to hear. “and i apologise for asking to meet up last minute. if i ever clashed with a schedule of yours.”

“it’s okay, i still have a few days before i leave for milan anyway.” he answered, “why did you want to meet all of a sudden? and i’m a bit shocked that you know where i stay now.”

this is it, y/n. you cannot fuck this up. “actually, i didn’t know that you lived around the area. i blocked you in every social media i have, muted your name and tried my best to avoid seeing your name. just last night, i found out that you live here now. the internet’s a scary place, you know?” you said, “but, aside from that, i do have something to tell you. something big and important.”

christian chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “uh, okay. what is it?”

“do you remember the night we broke up?”

“can’t really forget about it.” he replied, “why?”

“the night before i asked you what you think about having kids, and you said you’d like to have one but you said we still had dreams to achieve, right?” he nodded, “well, that day i actually found out that i…i was pregnant. 5 weeks back then.”

christian stopped his tracks and when you looked back at him, his face dropped and his eyebrows were furrowed. confusion was spread all over his face.

“i–i didn’t ask to meet you because i need some sort of financial support for the kid or whatever, i just wanted to let you know.” you said, biting your lip as he stayed silent. “if you want to do some paternity tests, i would gladly let you.”

“no, no. i uh, believe you.” he replied, “is the baby…?”

“he’s four and has the same birthday as you, chris. he’s doing well in preschool, and uh…” you paused, pulling out your phone from your pocket and opened a picture of ezekiel to show him. “this is him. his name’s ezekiel mate. he’s your mini me.”

“mate?”

“yeah, well… at first i wanted to give him your last name but i thought it’ll stir controversy so i opted to give him your middle name.” you confessed, passing him your phone. “i hope that doesn’t bother you, christian but i understand if it does. and really, i apologise for telling you this so late.”

christian looked at ezekiel’s picture, examining his facial features that reminded you of him. ezekiel looked like him when he was still a kid, he could see some of your features there as well and there is no doubt that this wasn’t his kid. the pulisic genes were strong and evident. 

the two of you continued to walk along the beach, christian was asking you questions about ezekiel until you two stopped in the part of the beach where there were less people. you were both staring at the horizon, it was then when christian asks you the question you’ve been avoiding. 

“did you… did you plan on telling me about him even before today?” 

“...yes” you breathed, “i–i was supposed to tell you, christian. i really wanted to, but you were just… you had a huge opportunity to showcase yourself in europe. i didn’t want to take that away from you.”

“why?”

“because i know how demanding your job could be. it was already demanding when we were together, it ate a lot of our time together. a part of me thought that maybe a child would be a huge inconvenience to your career.”

all the small milestones that ezekiel achieved, christian had missed out and you wouldn’t blame christian if he chooses to be mad or hate you for hiding his child from him. he had every right to do so after missing five years of his son’s life.

“why didn’t you reach out to me, to my family at least?”

“i was afraid, okay? i was young, we were young. i was figuring out who i wanted to be and obviously, being a young mother was something i did not expect that i’ll be.” you said, on the verge of tears.

“and so, was it okay for you? to be a young, single mom?” he fought back, “y/n, if you had told me before, you know i would do everything. i would’ve quit—”

“and that’s exactly why i didn’t tell you. i changed who i was to put you both first, christian. i wanted you to succeed, you had dreams. at the same time, i wanted a normal life for ezekiel.” you said, tears cascading out of your eyes. “you were achieving your lifelong dreams, christian. i didn’t want to interfere with that. i didn’t want you and your parents’ hard work to be cut short because of me, because of ezekiel.”

christian then realised the things you had gone through raising ezekiel alone. his heart broke when he heard the things people around you told you when your bump started showing. it hurts him to think that you’ve gone through it all alone–all the heartbreaking things people around you told you. even before, when you were still together, it was one of the things that he admired about you. you were a strong and resilient woman.

“can i… can i meet him?” 

that caught you off guard, “sure, i guess. when do you want to meet him?”

“tonight, if it’s okay with you?”

you nodded your head, a bit unsure how ezekiel would react. normally, he is shy when meeting new people. but this wasn’t any other person, this was his father. so when christian walked you back to the car and made sure you were inside, you dialled emily’s number.

“how’d it go?” was the first thing she said upon answering the call while you started the engine of the car.

“it went well, surprisingly.” you answered, “one little problem though.”

“what?”

“he uh, he wants to meet him. tonight.” you said, biting your lip. “would it be okay if christian came over at your place?”

“are you crazy? it’s more than okay! plus, it’s much safer and private here instead of going out. lots of people know him, you know?” 

you sighed, “i’m nervous, ems. i don’t know how zeke will react, i don’t even know what i’ll say to him.”

“zeke is a wonderful kid, i’m sure he will be okay when you tell him the truth.” emily reassures, “look, me and andrew will just be here to support you. no matter how it goes, alright?”

“thank you, ems. literally for everything.”

emily giggles on the other end, “hey, that’s what friends are for, silly!” she joked, “okay, now i’m gonna end this call to go get dinner ready. you get home safely!”

“dinner?”

“duh, christian pulisic is coming to my place and i’m not gonna serve him anything? i’m a very hospitable person, of course, i’ll make him something good.”

—

two hours of prepping dinner with the couple, christian rings the doorbell. emily whispered to you good luck as she and andrew stayed in the kitchen, keeping an eye on the food you all made while you head to the front door. you took a few breaths before opening the door for him. dressed in a simple button down with a shirt inside and a pair of shorts, holding a bouquet of flowers.

your heart skipped a beat. 

“hi,” he smiled, “these are for you.”

you make way for christian to enter the foyer, taking the flowers from his hands. “thank you, they’re pretty.” you compliment, “this is uh… emily and her husband’s place, by the way. we’re just visiting.”

just in time, emily and andrew entered the scene. “you remember emily, right?” you asked and he nodded.

“it’s been a while, christian.” emily smiled and introduced andrew to him. “dinner will be ready in a few. me and andrew are just in the kitchen if you need us.”

you led christian to the den, leaving him there as you went to get ezekiel. christian was nervous, just like you. he doesn’t know anything about parenting, or how to be a dad in general. he depended on such little information you told him about your son. everything was happening too fast, all he knows is that today was such a crazy day. one minute he finds out he has a son, the other he’s meeting him. he hasn’t even told his family about this information!

“zekey, could you promise to be good for mama?” you asked your son which christian heard, “remember when you asked mama if you had a papa?”

“yes, mama. you told me i had one but papa is just busy that’s why we haven’t seen him.” that broke christian’s heart.

“well, papa is here now.”

seeing ezekiel mate in person was a different feeling than seeing him on your phone earlier today. usually, when meeting new people, ezekiel would hide behind you and stay there until he feels comfortable. but this time, he didn’t. instead, he ran towards christian and gave him a hug.

“hello, papa.”

you bit your lower lip, trying to stop yourself from being emotional as you watch christian and ezekiel meet for the first time. 

“hello, ezekiel.” christian smiled, “i’m sorry, papa is so busy. but i’m here now.”

you’ve never seen ezekiel conversate with everybody else this way. he was engaging with every single question that christian asks him, telling him the little details about his life. god, why did you wait so long for these two to meet?

as the father and son get to know each other, you head to the kitchen to continue helping emily and andrew. emily was smiling at you when she saw you enter.

“i told you it’s gonna go well.” she said, “now that zekey and christian have met, what’s up with you and him?”

“what do you mean?”

“the flowers. maybe the two of you could reignite the spark you once had?”

you shook your head, continuing to mash the potatoes to serve later. “it’s not… it’s nothing like that. i doubt anything would happen between us, i mean, he’s probably dating someone.”

“really? you don’t see the two of you dating again?” andrew asked, and you shook your head again. “aww, i was almost excited to be friends with a star player. like, imagine the two of us barbecuing in the backyard?”

“babe, i think you’re man-crushing christian.” emily laughed. “but in all seriousness, y/n. no?”

“nope.” you replied, “like i said, he’s probably dating someone. plus it seems like we both moved on, we put the “us” in the past and i think it’ll stay that way.”

“what about zeke?”

you sighed, “we can co-parent, i guess. if he wants to, of course. i’m not going to force him into something he doesn’t want, at the end of the day, i still want what’s best for zeke and him.” you explained, “if he doesn’t want to co-parent, then that’s totally fine. i’ve raised zeke, i’m sure i can handle it.”

“really?”

“look,” you snapped, “i’m sorry guys, i love you both but… i just have a lot of things in my mind right now. it’s been a long day, can’t we just put the questions aside and just get through dinner?”

the couple nodded their heads. they understood where you were coming from, it wasn’t an easy decision for you to let ezekiel and his father meet, plus it all happened so fast and they were blabbing about the possibilities that could happen in the future. you left the two shortly after you helped them prepare the dining table, heading straight to where you left ezekiel and christian. 

ezekiel was in between christian’s legs, focused on his father’s phone as he showed him a compilation of his goals uploaded on youtube. when your son acknowledges your presence, he has the biggest smile on his face.

“mama, i want to play football like papa!”

you chuckle, taking a seat next to them. “well, i guess we could give it a try. but for now, let’s go eat dinner.” you tell your son, and he nodded his head, removing himself from christian’s grasp and ran out of the room, leaving you and his father alone. “so uh, just let me know if you’re uncomfortable during dinner. i can—”

“no, no, no. it’s okay.” christian said, “i, uh… about ezekiel—”

“we can talk about it after dinner.” you said, giving him a small smile as you walked to the dining. 

ezekiel was sandwiched between you and christian. the four adults exchanged stories, andrew expressing his shock upon finding out that the father of ezekiel is a star player for the national team. ezekiel adjusted with christian faster than you expected, knowing your son, it would usually take him a few more interactions before he started to talk to them completely but he was really comfortable with him. christian was his father after all.

after dinner, christian thanked the hosts of the house. he even offered to put ezekiel to bed, but the kid had too much energy left in his body and couldn’t sleep yet. he bid his goodbye to ezekiel, promising that they’ll meet and bond again soon which made ezekiel a bit sad, yet happy. when everything was already sorted out, you walked christian back to his car.

“today was… i don’t know, crazy and fun.” he admits, stopping next to his car. “it was a lot to process but i think i’m okay. more than okay with ezekiel, he’s… he’s a good kid and you’ve done so much for him. i’ve never met a kid so clever like him at a young age.”

you smile, you didn’t really expect his compliment and it made you shy. “thank you. i have to say, the people around him influenced him a lot.” you replied.

silence once again surrounded the two of you, you were both waiting for someone to speak–bring up the topic of co-parenting. you didn’t want to be the first one to ask him because it would feel like you were pressuring christian, and christian didn’t want to be the first one to ask you because he knew it would be such a huge adjustment for you and ezekiel.

“y/n” christian called.

you look up to him, staring directly into his honey brown eyes. again, no one was talking. just the sound of the wind and a broken street light not far from where you were standing. the space between you and christian was getting smaller and smaller, his hands gently making their way to your jaw. and the next thing you know, your lips were connected. feeling his lips on yours made your heart beat faster, butterflies in your stomach were getting crazier. 

you pulled away, holding his wrist. his forehead and nose on yours as you both catched your breath and closed your eyes. christian felt tears on his cheeks, causing him to open his eyes. 

“i can’t… we can’t–” you said, pulling away from him.

“y/n–”

“i’m sorry, chris.” 

you ran back inside the house, leaving christian alone in the driveway and he stood there frozen as he tried to process what had happened. did he move too fast? were you overwhelmed by his actions? questions ran through the player’s mind. maybe he did move too fast, and maybe you were scared that history may repeat itself. but this time, christian wanted to let you know that it wouldn’t, that he would do his best to conquer everything. christian was determined to have you again, because this time it isn’t only you he’s fighting for. 

he was fighting for you and ezekiel.

[crabsnpersimmons]

Tally

had this idea for a drabble to share a bit more on Moon’s upgrades in the hairdresser AU, since there was some interest about a certain detail mentioned in my previous post (that "last part")

Word Count: 1,567

Read time: ~8 min

some content warnings:

descriptions of body dysmorphia including descriptions of skin picking, which borderline self harm on a metal robot body—i took a lot of creative liberties to translate the signs and symptoms into a robot experience, so it isn’t meant to be the most realistic depiction of body dysmorphia disorder, but just a head's up just in case

descriptions of memories of past traumatic experiences

just angst overall

that’s all i can think of, but please let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to add!

“Home sweet home~!” Eclipse warbles once Moon opens the door to their small apartment. Without missing a beat, he bends down and slips through the door frame, with his precious cargo still on his back.

“Clip! Put me down first!” Sun cries from his position in their little piggyback. He scrunches himself closer to the taller bot’s back as they pass through the threshold, his sunken in rays only barely missing the top of the door frame.

Moon chuckles as Eclipse makes a bee-line for their box TV. It’s the same every day, but he never got tired of it. After closing up shop for the day, they returned home. Unfortunately Sun’s legacy code prevented him from moving about in the dark. That didn’t stop him from trying each night after closing—marching with his eyes glued to street lamps until he ran out of light. Then Eclipse would carry him the rest of the way to the bus stop, where he’d just stay until they got returned to their apartment. The lights of the hallways would stir Sun back awake, but Eclipse always insisted on carrying him the rest of the way to their door—just as he always had since their days in the daycare.

Different city, different space, different jobs—but Eclipse never seemed to change.

Still carrying Sun with one set of arms, he plops himself down in front of the TV and pulls out his game controller with other set. Once Sun extracts himself, his free hands immediately reach for the other controller.

As the old game system is booting up, Moon moves to make a quiet escape.

“Moon,” but Sun knew him too well. “Bedroom.”

There is a whir of fans before Moon responds, “Aye aye, captain.”

No sooner had Moon entered their bedroom that Sun had joined him. Their room was always small—they could only afford so much with their combined income—but it always felt smaller when the sunshine bot cornered him like this.

Silently, Moon turns around, not looking his counterpart in the eye. Instead, Sun extends his hand into his field of vision, waiting. This is not the first time, but it never gets easier for either of them. After a beat, Moon lifts his own bulky hand and places it in Sun’s slender palm. Sun gives him a gentle squeeze before rolling up his counterpart’s sleeve to reveal his blue arm, marked in fine silver trails.

There is a brief pause before Sun leads Moon to their ensuite bathroom and sits him down on the closed seat of the toilet. He looks away for a brief moment just to take out his amateur tools from the drawer. Just a collection of things he has scavenged for basic upkeep. Of course none of this was in his programming. But just as he resolutely marched under streetlamps, Sun pushed his code to its limits to keep them afloat. He sits down on a nearby stool and gets to work on Moon’s right arm where six thin trails shined against the royal blue.

He gets to work and there is silence between them. Before there used to be angry and desperate cries. When Sun discovered his first scar, he insisted he go to parts and services. But they both knew he wouldn’t go back there. Never.

So they had to improvise—and that is what they have always excelled at. Things got easier in that regard after the PizzaPlex had burned down. They could finally leave those walls, leave their troubled past, carve out lives for themselves, care for themselves. They lucked out finding the Boss when they did and now they can do honest work and get paid and live. Finally live.

But still their troubled past stains their new lives. The PizzaPlex may be a long forgotten memory, but they still bear scars and quirks that run deeper than chipped surface paint or legacy processes. Despite all these years in this body, Moon still bumps into things, miscalculating his size and reach. All it took was a bump against his utility cart this afternoon to make him acutely aware of the arm that is not his. The ball-joint neck that cannot move the way he wants it to. The clunky fingers and the foreign nails. They are not his. They are not his. And he is thrust back into the brightly light cylinder, waking up again to a body that isn't his. Waking up again to a role he never asked for. Waking up with piece of him missing. Wondering if the body he remembers is just a dream and he needed to learn to wake up, wake up, wake up--

“You’ve got to stop doing this.”

Sun’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts—and he knows this. Perhaps that’s why Sun is always nagging him. To fill his head with something useful again.

“Some of these scratches can’t be buffed out, and there’s only so much I can do,” Sun works on a light scratch on his left hand.

“And you won’t see a mechanic,” Sun tuts.

“No.”

“I know,” Sun sighs, letting go of the scratch. It’s barely visible now, the kind of imperfection you would have to know about and intentionally look for. The kind that Moon keeps a tally of. His body is covered with tally marks that only he can see.

“But either you stop or I will take you to the mechanic… or,” Sun’s hands drift down to Moon’s hand, holding his fingers gently. “…I disable your retractable claw function.”

“Ha,” the short laugh spills out of Moon before he can think to stop it. “Not when I’m the only one who can give proper hair washes.”

There is a slight pause before Sun pulls his hands away and lightly knocks Moon’s head. “Well, if your claws are sharp enough to carve metal, I don’t want them anywhere near our customer's heads. Besides, we have Sunshine who can help with that now.”

Moon hums uncommittedly, staring at Sun's handiwork at erasing his. Out of the corner of his eye he notices a sway in Sun’s steps as he puts away his tools. As much as Sun pushes his code to the limits and watches over him, Moon also watched out for him. They were, after all, once one. No one knows them better than they do.

Moon’s hand rises up Sun’s arm. “Bed time?”

“Yeah,” Sun says wearily. Even with the lights on, his battery was running low, after a full day of work, walking under street lamps, and fixing Moon's mistakes. The least Moon can do is play this role—a role he gladly performs.

Moon nods as he reaches out to steady Sun before connecting to their shared internal chat.

M: Clip. Sun and I are going to sleep.

E: K.

S: Don’t stay up too late. Make sure you charge up.

E: K.

With that, Moon helps Sun to their bed. They could only afford a one-bedroom apartment, and even then their landlord definitely wasn't too keen about renting to three large robots, and their lack of credit history. It was only thanks to a referral from Boss that they landed the place. But they couldn't complain. There are robots, the don't really need to sleep in bedrooms, but they had one so they might as well use it.

Moon assists Sun into bed before stepping back to get the lights. He watches as Sun plugs in his charging cable in before lying down on the pillows. His eyes never leave Sun’s as darkness falls on the room.

There is the familiar whirring sound of gears moving as rays retract and metal shifts colour. If Moon closes his eyes, he could almost feel those gears in himself. Grinding away. Putting Sun in his nap. And him waking from his own slumber. Him coming alive. Waking in his own body.

S: Moon.

There he goes, filling his head again. Even when powered down, Sun still watches over him. Moon hums in response and shuffles to the bed. His eyes never leave Sun as the bed dips from the added weight, as he slots himself up next to Sun. One arm slips under the gap between his neck and the bed. The other goes over, holding him in place. His legs find their place behind the bend of Sun’s.

His upper hand rubs circles on the familiar surface. Where these hands had left scratches on blue metal, they now caressed the smaller yellow surface.

Different city, different space, but at least he can still hold his body. Although it is not the same colour, it still feels like he remembers. The slenderness of the forearms. Every fine joint in the long fingers. He pulls Sun closer, if only to be closer, if only to be himself again.

But a hard pressure against his chest stops him every time.

Behind layers of clothes, the inflexible metal underneath always keeps them apart. Never flush together when they are in this position. It will always be there to jab into his chest every time he tries.

A reminder of how far he’s fallen.

thank you for reading!

want something to cheer you up? go and check out the meme art i shared yesterday! Moon is there to hug that sad away!

want more heartbreak? look verrrry closely at moon's arms in that meme art (or if it's hard to see the image description in the ALT mentions it)

[paroleswerespoken]

tears on a withered flower rant

I had to do a little mid night rant, since this is one of my favorites webtoons at the moment. First I want to start by saying that I respect whatever opinion someone else might have on this story since not everyone is going to see things from the same perspective. With that being said, I do get kind of annoyed by people who want to put Mincheol on a pedestal ever since the author gave a little but of context of how his and HaeSoo’s relationship was the at beginning of their relationship. I see a lot of people stating past Mincheol is better than Taeha when there’s not really a to compare the two. First I get that Mincheol at the start tried to woo HaeSoo and as it always work at the beginning everything feels swoon worthy, also we have only seen this moments from HaeSoo’s pov and forgetting the situation she was in she took every sign of kindness as something big. Mincheol (although there’s not an official translation) has stated in the past that HaeSoo was a little bit more of work when it came to winning her over compared to Ari and it was some sort of game and has referred to both women in a very respective weight. He referred to Haesoo as a lifeless flower who has lost her light and often treated her as an object. Very often torturing her and reminding her that she is no longer a valuable woman since she can’t conceive a child, speaking as if only his dreams and aspirations were tarnished. So, someone who was your husband for years almost mocks you for something you had no control over instead of giving you support as their partner? Not only that but making you workday and night while they waited for a respectable job sitting at home? The same home you cleaned and kept afloat while getting sick, the same home he couldn’t respect and took another woman to? It truly baffles me how people idolize the two good things he did for you but forget that HaeSoo also built their life together an at the end of the day she sacrificed more than he did. She lost her sparkle and herself esteemed, not only that, but the hope to have a husband, a family and her best years. To me if you put everything on a balance the bad outweighs the good. He would have been someone not worth remembering to me, but I get the significance he had in her life. Still, I get a bit annoyed that people try to idolize Mincheol and try to demonize Taeha. Of course he has done questionable things, but if it wasn’t for him Mincheol would still be abusing Haesoo and breaking her psyche. Taeha has also respected boundaries, he understood that she wouldn’t forget her ex-husband just like that and reassured her that it was okay for her feelings to still be there for him. He watched her from afar even when he wanted to hold her, he has not pressured her to move even knowing Mincheol can still go and find her. You can say his whole tactic to have her find out MC was cheating was calculated and sinister but was she really going to find out if it wasn’t for that? Taeha might not be perfect as a character but what is there that he has done to damage HaeSoo? Anyways. This midnight rant might be deleted so yeah lol

[chakotaybodypillow]

CHAKOTAYS TRIBE !!!!!! PLEASE READ IF YOU WANT TO KNOW HIS TRIBE!!!! I'VE DONE RESEARCH TO TRY AND FIND THE ANSWER!! <3

What the hell even is Chakotays tribe??? Would it be a surprise that there is an answer to that? What tribe he was based on has been questioned for a while and I’ve only seen a few people come close to a proper answer. I’ve seen people say that he is of Navajo/Dine descent or Ojibwe. I wouldn’t say any of those are wrong as his “traditions” were all over the place it made it hard to tell. Our first bit of evidence is the location he and his father traveled to in the episode “Tattoo”. Now this is my least favorite episode in Voyager, almost as worst as TNG’s Code of honor lol. So, it’s always hard to watch and I haven’t done so in a while, but I do remember they said they traveled to Central America. Obviously, this makes up a few different countries and tribes, but the most predominant Nation in this area are the Maya. I’ve been doing tons of research on this matter, and its literally impossible to compare Chakotay’s tribe to an individual Maya tribe. This is where the writers used the “Hollywood Indian” stereotype because its just all over the place. Other than the location, a few things that gives it away is the name of his tribe. They call themselves the “Rubber Tree People”. If you are familiar with Mesoamerican history, you would know that this is what “Olmec” is roughly translated to. Linguists were able to translate it from the Nahuatl word “Olmecatl” meaning “the rubber people who live on this land”. The rubber tree also plays a significant role in Mesoamerican tribes. The rubber from the tree was used to make the ball for the sacred game of “ulama”. Which played an important role of in the creation story in the Popol Vuh about the Hero Twins. The Olmecs came before the Maya and Aztec, but a lot of Olmec culture influenced their own. Whether or not Chakotay’s tribe were direct descendants of the Olmecs is unknown to me. It wouldn’t make much since historically speaking, but it would fit the narrative of the episode “tattoo”. Another indication would be one of his decedents, Ce Acatl. Ce Acatl Topiltzin was a real person who was a ruler of the Toltecs. I’ve only read a lil bit bout him so I won’t speak on what he did or who he was until I’ve done more research. Finally, one of the other MAJOR indications to me was in his short background story of pathways. I am aware that these are not canon, but it gives a glimpse into what the creators had in mind while creating theses characters. The literal first page is his father recounting a story from the Popol Vuh, and he’s talking about the Hero Twins, Seven Macaw, and the Maize God. My mind was blown when I read that, cause I started research about this a few yeas ago and was using clues from the show and figured since I had read the book before and didn’t remember any significant information about his tribe, there wasn’t any point to open it up. I read the book again at the beginning of the year and lost my mind. All of my answers were there lol. But it confirmed what I already knew. I felt hella proud cause I took the long way to get an answer and was still right. Anyways there’s still sooooo much to say about this and I’m working on a well put together paper explaining why the customs and traditions they gave him were wrong or confusing. I hope people will read cause I put a lot of research into it. I also have what I think to be some good lore that could fix a little bit of the damage that was done. More on that later though 😊.

[cupidbedsy]

𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 | 𝘭𝘩43 ♔

➪ summary: luke always knows when his girl is sad, and this time it's no exception

➪ warnings: depression, fighting parents, kind of bad family dynamics

➪ word count: 1.6k

➪ file type: fic

➪ sunny's notes: this is so weird because i'm listening to really hype music while editing the sad fics. oh well, i wrote this when i was sad so that's fun. also i reread this and i actually almost cried because i didn't realize how well i portrayed my own emotions in it so that was also fun

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

lh43 masterlist || nhl masterlist || taglist || navigation

There was something about that time of year that caused her depression to hit its highest level. There were a lot of reasons that could’ve caused it, but there was none that she could say was right. It wasn’t seasonal depression, she had been asked that a plethora of times. It wasn’t a feeling of not being enough, she had been told that by multiple therapists.

She could say it was her parents fighting, her parents’ financial struggles, her brothers' snarky comments about how he couldn’t wait to move out and not deal with their crap anymore. She could say it was her family going to her for every little thing that went wrong, the amount of shit she gets from everyone in the family, the comparison of her to her brothers. It could’ve been a lot of things, but she wasn’t about to pin her depression on her family members, it didn’t seem right. 

Every one of her friends and family knew she had depression, it wasn’t a secret. She felt as if as soon as her parents were told about her diagnosis they couldn’t wait to tell every single soul they knew. She felt like she was a story waiting to be told. She often thought that if she had a kid who acted the same way she did, she would know how to raise them better. 

She hated critiquing her parents and her brothers, but they did it to her, didn’t they? She knew about the multitude of times her parents had gone to talk to her brothers about how she hadn’t been to class in a week, how she looked fine so there was no reason for her not to go. She felt like the little boy who cried wolf, however, for much different reasons. 

She always said she was sick when she felt this feeling looming over her so her parents wouldn’t get worried, and they would let her stay home from school. But then, she would actually get sick and no one would believe her. She was stuck in an endless cycle. 

Luke was worried. He had known about her tendencies to fall into this state of mind and not know what caused it. He knew about her family, the therapists, the psychologists, and the social workers. He knew about the multiple attempts everyone had made to get her to open up, about the amount of times she had screamed in her head at them that she didn’t know. He knew about everything.

It was easy for her to open up to Luke when they first met, he had this unmistakably calming and supportive aurora about him. He had bumped into her one day in freshman year, immediately apologizing for not looking where he was going. She had been on her way to the dining hall while he was on his way back, but he offered to take her there anyway. 

Ever since then, they had been each other’s rock. Luke asked her out two months later and the two were practically inseparable. However, this was the first time he had experienced this side of her. He could tell it was happening just slightly, her face said it all. He wasn’t entirely sure of what to do, she had always told him it was nothing to worry about and it should be better in a couple of days. But it wasn’t.

She wasn’t the best at answering her texts, not wanting to face the fact that she was not doing well. She had been cooped up in her room for almost a week now, usually occupying herself with reading or playing a game on her phone. She wanted to go to class, she wanted to do her work, she wanted to do better but she just couldn’t. 

She stared blankly at her phone as her podcast played through her earbuds. She had seen a text from Luke come through but she didn’t pay much attention to it. She felt bad for not answering, yet another part of her brain just accepted defeat and the fact that he might be mad at her. She had been able to get up and sit at her desk which was a step in the right direction, however she hadn’t done much since she got there. 

She heard a knock on the door, ignoring it at first. When the knocking became more persistent, she sighed and got up. Her, Luke’s, hoodie fell from its original bunched-up place in her lap as she walked over to the door. Her eyes had dark circles around them, her hair was tied messily in the back. She opened it and looked at the person standing on the opposite side of the door.

“Hi.”

Usually, she would’ve been excited to see her boyfriend but at this point, that was what she dreaded most. Her face looked tired as she stared at Luke with blank eyes, “Hi.”

Luke nervously shifted his weight back and forth between his feet at the sound of her voice. It was hoarse from the lack of use, it had unfallen tears caught in it, and it had a hint of harshness laced in it. His mind flooded with thoughts as her voice reached his ears, he hadn’t been expecting it to sound that way.

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something more but he didn’t. The lack of communication between the two caused them to stand in the doorway for three minutes. Luke’s nervousness and awkwardness were seeping into y/n’s body language as she toyed with her hair and stood with her left foot propped up behind her right leg. 

When they made eye contact, the tension in her body went away and her eyes softened, “You wanna come in?”

He nodded and she stepped back so he could walk in. Instead of going back to where she was previously sitting, she went back and climbed into her bed. The feeling of being able to be vulnerable in Luke’s presence made her want to curl into herself, she didn’t want to be vulnerable right now. She pulled her comforter up to her chin, creating heat around her.

Luke shivered from the moment he stepped into her room, goosebumps rising all over his arms. He sighed when he saw his girlfriend revert to her original space, moving to sit at the edge of her bed. He placed his hand on her calf, the sheets creating a barrier from them touching, “Hi baby.”

Those were the only words that both of them could muster, an awkward tension forming between the two of them for no reason. She just stayed staring at the wall in front of her. He let out a soft sigh at the lack of response and turned his head away from her to collect his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how to approach this, she had told him not to worry about her but he couldn’t help it. 

“What can I do to help?”

She shrugged in response, not giving him her full attention. Luke slowly moved his thumb to start rubbing her calf in circles as a form of comfort. Another moment of silence passed again, and the two slowly started to become more comfortable with each other once again. 

“Luke?”

“Hmm?” 

“Can you lay with me?”

Luke all but jumped onto the opportunity she gave him, slipping his shoes off and climbing in behind her. He wrapped his right arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. It was a mere five seconds before y/n was turning over and burying her head into his chest, “I’m sorry.”

“For what? You haven’t done anything wrong, baby.”

“For not responding, and for being like this.”

Before he had shown up she had hoped he wouldn’t even think about coming over. She hated when people had to see her like this. It wasn’t because of the way she looked but rather the thought that nobody would understand how she felt, that everyone would just complain about her problems.

But Luke was absolutely, positively in love with her. From the moment they met, the way he had been able to make her laugh within two minutes, the way she was able to ramble on about random things to a stranger amazed him. She had him wrapped around her finger since the moment they bumped into each other and there was nothing that would change that. 

He frowned at her words, “Don’t be sorry. You can’t control it.”

“I just wish it would stop sometimes. Move on from me.” He kissed her forehead and held her tighter, feeling angry at the world for doing this to his girl.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

Her fingers went to tangle into his hair, her frowning at his apology. She played with one of the curls that had been sticking out amongst the rest due to its length. Luke calmed down at the feeling and gave her a small smile. It was hard for her to return the action, not having anything to smile about. 

Luke knew that was all he needed to do, just be there for her even if she said she didn’t want him there. Remind her that he would be there to support her through everything, even the parts she didn’t want him to know about. Reassure her that those feelings were common even if he didn’t know what it felt like. Love her as if the world was gonna end tomorrow.

[bluenpjm]

horus academy 5 — bts x oc

© horus academy | all rights reserved. do not repost, translate or claim as your own. if you find this work elsewhere besides the three blogs stated, please report it to any of the writers.

@singguks × @socksjinie × @bluenpjm

summary: in a school where greek methods rules, not everything is as clear as it appears to be. heart, mind, soul, and body. those are the teams of the horus academy and boarding school. but deep within the long corridors, lies dark secrets. the so-called loving families formed in the shapes of teams begin to tear when an anonymous source unravels their deepest secrets.

genre: high school au | mystery au | social au | angst | fluff

pairing: OT7 × OC’s

rating: M

word count: 15.2k

warnings: foul language, friends fighting, getting stalked, lies and threats, bullying. really, a lot of fights and harsh words.

chapters. 04, 05, 06 ✹ masterlist

 

Three days had passed since the games and the rumor still hadn’t died down. 

People would stare and bluntly gossip whenever Jimin or even the rest of the group passed by in the halls. And the worst of it, for the group itself, was that the realization of it was indeed shocking. It was one thing being the talk of the hour because of teenage behavior regarding breaking into the boys' dorm rooms… Another was actually sleeping with a teacher while being a minor. 

At first, Jimin had the brilliant idea of wanting to skip biology class on Tuesday morning, which everyone was against. It was decided that he would not only go to class as a normal and not guilty student would, but he was to behave and cut all communication with his lover for a little while. Just until the rumor died down and he could come to his senses and end the rendezvous himself. 

Kaya, the one sharing biology class with him, kept a hawk’s watch on his moves. And Jimin was actually doing his best. She could easily buy the facade he was putting up. The one inciting fire to the rumor was Miss Bellum herself, who couldn’t help but look at the boy from time to time. And if Kaya was noticing it, the gossiping leeches were too. 

As soon as the bell rang, Kaya shoved her notebooks into her purse and pulled Jimin by the arm, dragging him out of the class. His backpack was still half opened and he had to carry the biology textbook in his hand. 

She turned the first corner she came into, and went down a few steps of the stairs, coming to a stop in its middle. Jimin looked at her completely lost, glancing at his sides to see if people were passing by or judging the moment as weird as he was. 

“Wha–” he tried but she interrupted him in pure frustration. 

“I can’t believe you told her!” she burst, still trying to be as quiet as possible so no one could hear. And before he had a chance to come up with a lie or an excuse to stall, Kaya continued. “Don’t even try and pretend you didn’t. She looked at you the whole time as if the world was ending and you were some abandoned dog!” 

Jimin glanced back at the corridor before answering, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched all the time. “I had to, ok?” a tired sigh left his lips, and Kaya held her tongue so she could let him speak. Before continuing his reasoning, he put the textbook in his backpack, all while the girl looked anxiously at him. “She texted me on Sunday–Just to check on me after the fight with Archie! Relax!” 

“How. Will. I. Relax, Park Jimin!” she slapped his arms outraged while he tried to evade it. 

He searched for words but nothing seemed good enough so he opted to hug her instead. Kaya was as much on edge as he was. This wasn’t just a vendetta against him, this was a deliberate attack on the whole group. “Listen, I promised you guys I wouldn’t be in touch with her anymore and I’m not. But she deserved to know what was happening, so I told her, ok? Just so that if anything happened–If any student said something, she wouldn’t be caught unprepared. It was the least I could do.” 

Kaya nodded in understanding. She could at least breathe more at ease, and she held Jimin for a few seconds more, wishing that she could wake up from this nightmare named You. 

Before their moment of peace could last a little longer, Jimin’s phone buzzed in his front pocket, taking an arrow straight at both his and Kaya’s heart. Not again, he feared. 

They broke away from the embrace. She anchored herself on the wall behind her, crossing her arms to form a shield against whatever was coming their way. Jimin, in turn, reached for the device while mustering the courage he still had. 

Kaya saw his eyes reading the message but she couldn’t decipher his face. From where she was standing, and the way his eyebrows slightly furrowed, it didn’t look good. She gulped. “So?” 

“It’s Tae.” he said apprehensively, taking a quick look at her face. 

The air escaped her lips and he saw her entire body relax. Recomposing herself she questioned, “You still haven’t talked about it?” to which he shook his head. “Well… Good luck with that.” 

With a not-so-cheerful pat on his shoulder, Kaya was quick to leave her friend on the empty flight of stairs to resume her schedule. 

The sun shined bright in the sky, and although Elena was lying down on their usual table bench outside, she couldn’t seem to enjoy the warm beaming on her skin peacefully. 

Yoongi, Jin, and Jungkook sat by the table with her, while they waited for the twins to grab something from the cafeteria for their lunch. And although two of them were contributing to her quiet beauty nap, Jin couldn’t help but throw in assumptions of who could possibly be You. 

“Listen, I wouldn’t doubt that Archie was psycho enough to just come at us,” Elena could hear him say, “I’m just saying it isn’t his style at all to come at someone through social media.” and although none of them responded to it, she could tell that both Yoongi and Jungkook were thinking about his reasoning because so was she. Jin had a point. And so he continued rambling, “He’s too… Aggressive to be just like–Oh I know your secret ha ha ha! I feel like he would at least brag about it while taking a punch at our beautiful faces.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi agreed. “The problem here is that we know nothing about this You person to even try and assume who it is…”

A defeated silence followed. It was enough for Elena to open her eyes, only to have to turn her face on the bench so as to not be blinded by the light. She couldn’t see the boys, since they were all sitting on the other side of the table, but she could watch how some students passed by. Even from far away, they would glance at them with judgemental eyes. She inhaled impatiently. 

“What’s taking them so long, by the way?” Jin was the kind of person that lived in the moment. And at this moment at least, food was more important. Elena’s stomach would agree, but her head was seething with possibilities. And so she sat up, making the three boys before her pay attention. 

She inquired, “What if we got to know something about You?” they looked at her pondering. “Even the smallest detail would help, right?” 

“And how we’d manage that?” Jungkook finally spoke up, while the older two were already pondering for themselves. 

All they did until now was wait around and be there whenever You decided to use them as punching bags. Elena was fed up with it. There had to be some way to strike back. Plus, in her head, if this You person was working alone, they would have the advantage. They were a whole group. 

“Why don’t we counter-strike on social media? Since it’s this loser's playground and all. I figure that if we manage to have everyone’s support and throw this shade at them like they’ve been obviously throwing at us, You will lose it.” she said, crossing her legs on the bench. The thing was not to add more to the fire but she felt the need to make this You person realize they knew how to stand tall as a group. Elena could picture herself receiving all this negative attention alone, and if that were the case she didn’t think she would like it very much or even be that secure to repeat the process all over again. 

Jin sighed. He recognized that she was right but at the same time, it would be a bold move. “What would we even say? Again, we don’t know who this person is… So we don’t know how to push their buttons.” 

“How about we start at the ‘You’re behind a screen because you don’t have the balls to come say it to my face’ part?” 

As Jungkook tried to hold his laughter and Yoongi pensively looked down with his arms crossed, Jin was obliged to answer Elena’s thoughts. “That seems well articulated to me.” he nodded in agreement. 

“Well, good, let’s watch how this rat squirms after I turn some sides then,” She added, making a go for her mobile that had been forgotten on top of the stone table. The girl managed to unlock the device and tap on the app to start writing before Yoongi made himself heard again. 

He started by saying, “I don’t think this is a good idea, Elena.” which made her stop what she was doing to look at him. “You’re going to provoke them, and then what?” 

How she exhaled and gesticulated with her free hand made him know she was fed up to the point of quitting too much explanation. Jin for the first time got quiet, and Jungkook’s eyes were once again doing that thing when he got apprehensive; they would double the size. “I get it. I know what you mean by wanting to know their next move. You’re going to try and fit them into a team and track them down that way. Maybe even scare them enough to not come after us again. But it’s an unsure move. What if it gets worse? I don’t know…” Yoongi tried to reason with her before something else blew right in their faces. 

“I mean. It can’t get worse than this!” she looked around and so did Yoongi. People kept gossiping and scrutinizing their every move. “We need to take action. You know that.” 

And before anyone could say anything else, she finished writing it and pressed send.

There was some comfort in Elena’s post, even if no one said much more about it. She treated the situation as if all of the things they were exposed for doing were nothing but mere rumors, and there was a big relief on that. Almost as if they could resume what they have known before as normal school life. 

“If you two took a bit more to arrive here I swear I would pass out of hunger.” Jin pointed out as soon as he saw Taehyung and Freya approach them, each holding two silver trays full of food. 

The boys were quick to organize the table and pick their plates to start eating, failing to notice how Freya’s glance was locked with Elena’s. Taehyung almost managed to sit in the middle of the two, if it weren’t for his twin shoving him to the side. 

As soon as she passed her legs through and managed to sit, she whispered in Elena’s ear, “Care to fill me in on what that post was about?” 

“I’m just relieved I said something back” she confided, “We really needed a win around here.” 

“You did good,” Freya agreed cheerfully. They looked at each other and realizing what she had just said, she tried to fix it, “Not you as in You but like. You.” she pointed out and Elena couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh forget it! You know what I meant.” 

Out of the whole group, everyone met up during lunch, as per usual. Everyone but Namjoon and Jimin. The former had to skip it because of the captain’s duties. Psykhe’s leader had to stay longer in a monthly meeting about their team’s expenses and such. 

Jimin, however, was being avoidant. Taehyung knew him well enough to know that. 

He knew that as soon as he texted him saying they needed to talk, the first thing Jimin would do was this—avoid him at all costs. So excusing himself politely from the table, Taehyung went back to the cafeteria and picked some chicken wings with sauce as a peace offering, making his way to the boys’ dorms. 

It was actually the perfect time for some privacy, as the majority of people were hanging on the patio for lunch and Jimin’s roommate, Hoseok, was also out. 

He had to knock two times before the door was answered. Jimin opened it sporting nothing but a towel around his waist. He didn’t say much, just made way so Taehyung could come into the room. 

The tallest stopped by the beds, feeling a little out of place because of his best friend’s unbothered eyes and sudden irresolvable stance. He hesitated with the box of chicken wings still in his hands. Jimin kept moving around in false pretense, entering the bathroom and then coming out of it seconds later with a smaller towel in hand, using it to boyishly dry his drenched locks. 

Deciding to approach carefully, Taehyung said, “Brought you some lunch,” he slightly lifted his hand showing the white squared box that transpired a mouth-watering smell. “The canteen was about to close, so…” 

Jimin gave him a small smile in return, still busy with his chore. “Thanks.” 

“Alright.” 

The food was placed at the closest writing table. Taehyung had to press his lips to contain his inner fuming. He turned around to face his best friend with a wave of anger he was finding quite difficult to contain.

His hands found his hips as he managed to say, “So you’re the one that gets to be mad at me? Not the other way around? I see.” 

“Oh please, quit the sarcasm” Jimin spits quite impatiently himself. 

“Sure. Just as soon as you cut the bullshit.” Taehyung said almost immediately demanding from his best friend what they haven’t gotten ever since the secret had been out. The courage to face the truth. 

Jimin had a very different reaction from what Taehyung had envisioned for what was to come. He saw how his best friend rolled his eyes before answering, and Jimin’s voice sounded tired as he said, “Not you too.” he exhaled. 

Taehyung looked at him with daggers in his eyes. His eyebrows twitched questioning, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Excuse me?!” was all that he managed to blurt out.

“Go on. Spit it. I know you also have something to say.” 

 Still taken aback by Jimin’s reaction he scoffs. “Are you being serious?” His stance is as cold as the resentment he was feeling. His chest was about to explode due to the unfairness of the situation. The words fell short no matter what he thought of saying, and so he muted himself. The chocolate locks boy just stood there looking at his friend, feeling just as hurt. 

Impatient, Jimin ran his hand through his hair. “That was why you came here with the wings! Or do you think I’m stupid?” he said, panting in anger. His normally cheerful eyes were big and glossy. “We’ve been avoiding this talk long enough so just say whatever it is that you have to say.” his chest kept rising and falling in the heat of the moment. 

The boy before him had to take a second to answer. He stopped biting his tongue and all that fell from his mouth was the beginning of sarcastic laughter. Taehyung shook his head, scanning the room before meeting Jimin’s eyes again. “Yes.” He began, and the room turned to ice. “You do seem stupid after saying that.” he paused but Jimin wasn’t able to answer. A knot began forming in his throat. “And were we avoiding it?” Taehyung corrected with a pert yet sad smile, “Or were you? Because I didn’t see you coming to me to talk about it.”

Without much thinking, Jimin scoffed. “Stupid?” His words were laced with anger but his features told a different tale. “What else are you holding? C’mon, let it all out.” 

There was a pause. And a strike of realization from both ends. 

Taehyung exhaled. His eyebrows were knit together as his words began more paused and controlled than before. “I’m holding the fact that my best friend seems more eager to blame me than to actually understand what I really came here to do.” By the time his angry eyes meet Jimin’s, the latter feels drowned by his own guilt. “I’m not everyone else, you know…” Taehyung’s voice sounds hurtful. “I thought you knew that.” 

Jimin only understands his best friend had left the room as the sound of the door being hammered echoes. The anger consumes him and in a bashful split second, he grabs the first thing that comes into hand. Hoseok’s lamp is thrown at the wall. 

The din followed by scattered glass on the floor made him conscious of the mess he had just made. And that any mess could turn messier than what was thought possible. 

One by one the group started to disperse. The lunch break was a very needed one, but everything good in life came to an end. 

Yoongi was mindlessly scrolling his timeline in search of new song recommendations when he realized his friends had already moved on with their affairs. As he got up and grabbed his things he spotted Freya from afar. The girl was sitting by a big oak tree, basking in its welcoming shade. 

He had to get closer to note she had her eyes peacefully closed. There was a slight breeze that blew softly on her locks. From where he was standing, it looked like she was in a painting. 

“Not that is any of my business,” he said, plumping himself down right next to her. “But as your current fake boyfriend, I should say… Your brother sucks!” he joked, making her open a cheerful smile. 

With her eyes still closed, she asked, “What did he do this time?” 

“Well… He’s been hinting that he wanted to talk to me for a while now, you know–About us. But we still haven’t had the chance… All this You stuff and all.” Freya opens her eyes as she hears Yoongi sigh. “And now ever since Jimin’s thing came out he’s been all stressed.” 

The girl took a glance at him. Yoongi kept his eyes on the horizon, and if she knew him well enough, his head was spinning trying to find a practical solution to this mess. Even if his semblance was calm and composed. “And he’s been taking it out on you,” Freya states. 

“And he’s been taking it out on me, yeah.” 

Even though the boy beside her laughed about it, she knew it was bothering him deep down. She noticed how Taehyung was sharp and borderline surly to Yoongi during lunch. Her brother could be a bit too transparent about his feelings, never knowing how to suppress them. And she had a perfect notion she was a bit too much the same. 

“If it serves any consolation to you, he criticized my footwear of choice today,” she opts to say, keeping a light mood by clinking the heels of her recently acquired cowboy boots. Yoongi can’t help but laugh. Freya, as well as her brother, had always liked using questionable things when it came to fashion. And the thought of the twins having a discussion about the item can’t seem to leave his head. It felt so ridiculous that it immediately brought a smile to his face. 

Freya laughed along, pleased to hear his own loud one. 

Yoongi steals a glance at her as he leans his head on the trunk of the tree behind them. It’s been a while since they had been this peaceful, and he would hate to end the moment but at the same time, he felt the need to check on her. “And how have you been? On a more serious note.” 

“Same old same” 

“Freya.” He presses still looking at her profile. The girl sighs reluctantly and Yoongi can see the joy fading from her distant eyes. 

She turns her head so she can face him and give him the answers upon his request, as she sees no way out of it, but as soon as she opens her mouth she gets interrupted. “Hey!” her eyes leave Yoongi’s face and land on Jungkook’s. “Sorry…” The boy says as Yoongi’s gaze on him feels like a rebuke. As if he had interrupted a conversation that wasn’t made for his ears. “I–Mhmm… I hope I’m not interru–” 

“Hi!” Freya exclaimed with a sunny smile returned to her lips. “No, no! Sit!” 

Jungkook smiled along, doing as instructed, sitting in front of the pair. He rested his backpack by his knee as he sat cross-legged. “The bell rang and I have a free period right now, so…” Freya bit a smile as he fumbled with his shoelace still convinced he had to explain himself. “Everyone went their way and then as I came back from the canteen I saw you guys here–”

“Oh fuck!” Yoongi grunts getting up. He swiftly bats the dirt from his trousers and grabs his own backpack under the gaze of the other two. 

Freya chuckles in realization, “You’re late again aren’t you?” 

The boy flashes her a guilty gummy smile before confessing, “Pretty much! Mrs. Hough is going to kill me… Again!” He doesn’t take any more time before starting to run downhill with a lack of youthful spirit considering his age. “And we’re not finished!” Yoongi adds with a wink as he looks back at Freya, and Jungkook can’t help but wonder. The two looked nothing like a couple. Or maybe it was just his lack of experience in the matter talking. 

“So.” His eyes leave Yoongi’s back as he hears Freya say. When he looks at her he can’t help but gulp. 

“So…” Jungkook repeats her words. It had been a while since they last stood alone in each other’s presence, that specific day in the Wolf’s den dawning in his conscience, even so, guilt pairing in his heart or not, he had always felt intimidated by her stare. From the beggining. And sometimes he was convinced that if he got himself locked in her eyes long enough she would be able to read him like a book. Unravel all that there is to him. Nervously he adds, “You come here often?” 

Freya’s immediate reaction is to laugh. A burst of genuine laughter. There was something to his dorkiness that made her feel very comfortable. “Honestly? This is the first time I spend this free period here,” She decides to open up to his roleplay game. “I’m trying to find my new best place.” 

“And what does it take to be your new best place?” 

It seemed only natural to her to keep being true while looking at him. No need to even think before answering. “I’d say privacy is the first thing.” But to his insecure ears that sounded like a sign that he had crossed a line with her. “Ouch!” he lets out, finally breaking eye contact to look at the grass rubbing at his shoes instead. 

Realizing he misunderstood what she had said, she comes forward nudging his shoulder playfully. “Not you though!” He analyses her features again, a tad expectant. “You can exist with me.” Her voice sounds velvety and he feels the smile tugging on the corner of his mouth once more. 

With a faint of pink coloring his scarred cheek he asks, “And what’s the second requirement?” to which she answers promptly, “Mmm, I’d say a great view!” 

“And then?” Jungkook asks without realizing it, almost in a whisper. She had his full attention, and his brain couldn’t stop trying to match the nooks and crannies he had already seen around the school to fit her description. 

To her, much like to everyone else, the raven-haired boy before her couldn’t help but exude mysteriousness. A black translucent cloth covered him at all times from everyone’s curiosity. And it wasn’t shyness or just introspection. Freya had Yoongi to thank for being able to spot the difference. But sometimes, when the world outside seemed quiet enough–when there were just the two of them, she felt like she could glimpse the boy beneath such covers. In a trance, she mumbles just as quietly as he did before, “That’s it for now…”. They keep quiet for a moment, just enjoying each other’s features. If someone passed by them, they could easily mistake the moment for a stare competition, and the two competitors would miss the presence of the bystander just as easily. 

A sudden beep causes Freya to inhale sharply and Jungkook to jolt. Both of them exchange embarrassed chuckles as the girl takes her phone out to see what had snapped them to the real world. Jungkook eyes her expectant. 

She shrugs, tucking the device into her backpack once again. “It’s Yoongi.” 

“So the teacher didn’t kill him this time, huh” 

Freya leaned on the tree with a cheeky smile. She crossed her arms saying, “Not this time, no” as she watched how he fixed his backpack on the ground so he could rest his head comfortably on it. 

More silence follows. Jungkook keeps his eyes trailed to the scenery displayed to his right. He watches mindlessly as some students cross the greenery toward the main building. From time to time, when the wind hits his face, he feels compelled to close his eyes for seconds before opening them again. Freya doesn’t look at the view as he does. She couldn’t care less about those people passing by. Instead, she keeps her eyes trailed to his nape, and she watches how the hair there is starting to get big enough so it curves softly. She spots the scar on his left cheek and thinks of how it came to be, and how it seems so fitting that it was there. 

Jungkook fumbles with his lip piercing, still looking at the crowd below them. They all look so small from there. So distant. “Maybe I could help you find it,” he says as he turns his head to look at her. 

He notices how her eyes were already on him. How that summer blush spread across the line of her cheeks and nose as if she had been the whole day under a scorching sun at the beach. “I would like that.” 

He nods and the crinkles of his eyes start to appear. “Today after classes?”

“Deal.”

The rest of the free period is spent in comfortable silence. Both of them exist in each other’s presence, in wonder, basking in the sunlight. Enjoying the peacefulness of the breeze, and ignoring their surroundings. Caught not wanting that moment to end, but also anxiously waiting for the next encounter. 

Kaya decided to accompany her brother and Namjoon to the library post lunch after receiving a notification from the system saying the literature teacher would be canceling classes that day.

The boys were supposedly in their sociology class, but the extensive course was normally divided into two hours—one for research and the other for debating. So while they came up with a grounded speech, the girl fumbled through books, settling to catch up on the subjects she would have for the rest of the day. 

She was running her fingers through the numbers carved on the massive wood bookcase, eyes searching for the physics copy she needed, when she was laced by her hips and pulled to a dark corner. 

“What are you doing?!” she whispered, desperately glancing around so as to not be caught. 

Her captor didn’t pay much mind and kept kissing her neck. By now he was more than used to her apprehensive behavior. “My brother is right there!” she hissed again. On the tips of her toes, she tried with all her might to disentangle from the arms she loved so much. She just couldn’t be caught, and this was way too risky for her liking. 

“He’s focused on the task at hand,” The boy said, laid back. “I doubt he’ll get up before cracking that book first. You know how he is.” 

He pulled her closer, diving in for a kiss, sure that he had eased her mind just enough. To his misfortune, his lips were met with her hand. He tried again, playing it cool, but Kaya turned her head as she shoved him back. “Namjoon, please.”

He inhaled, as he rubbed his temples frustrated. 

Namjoon had never been a pushy guy. And he had always taken Kaya’s concerns into consideration. That was why they had been dating secretly in the first place. Because to him, they would have already come clean to everyone—including Hoseok—a long time ago. 

“Just tell me what you want Kaya,” he says plainly and she is taken aback. 

“What do you mean?” 

He sighs as the girl in front of him seems more preoccupied with checking around if anyone is listening to their conversation. More and more he felt tired of this. There was already too much on the table for them to be worried about. 

Namjoon leans on the bookcase behind him, crossing his arms. “It’s been a while now since we last were together,” he says carefully and her eyes search for his. “Ever since Freya took the blame in our place, to be specific.” 

“Ok…” she opts to say, as the words dissipate in her brain. 

“No. It’s not ok.” he huffs annoyed. Kaya knows him too well, and the moment he clenches his jaw in a pout, swinging it back and forth, she realizes he’s been piling this up for too long. “You’re my girlfriend. Yet I can’t see you in public or in private. I can’t kiss you or touch you–We can’t even talk like this without you looking around as if you’re up to something you shouldn’t be up to!” he whispers hushedly, calling her out. 

Kaya’s eyes are suddenly teary and the boy before her starts to get blurry. “But what can we do, it’s–” 

“We could just be together.” his eyebrows knit almost pleading. He is certain that he loves her. And he is certain that she loves him too. What hurts the most is that it doesn’t seem enough. Not for him, or her. 

Kaya starts shaking her head, eyes trailing on the wooden floor. She can’t deal with this right now. Not when her brother is mere meters away from finding the truth. 

“Let’s not do this now.” 

“Then when, Kaya?!” Namjoon can’t keep his cool anymore and she quickly covers his mouth to shush him. She looks apologetic at him, realizing how on edge she was being. He softly takes her hand out of the way. “I know these past couple of days have left us all walking on eggshells,” his voice sounds temperate again, the tone only loud enough for her to hear. “But I also think we can’t stop living our lives because of it.” 

She closed her eyes with a sigh. Kaya knew Namjoon was more than right. She just needed her scale to pend to the other side instead. Right now, she still has a lot to lose. “I know, it’s just–” 

The sound of a book dropping way closer to them than they thought possible, made both of their heads snap toward it, alarmed. Kaya’s breathing increased considerably and she froze on the spot. Namjoon looked around, and not seeing anyone in sight, he went toward the next row of bookcases. 

There was a single book left on the ground, scrambled from the falling. He looked at the cover as he picked it up, but the title didn’t say much to him. Before returning it to its place, he looked around once more. Kaya came from behind, quite apprehensive. Looking at her eyes, he followed her frightful gaze. On the other end of the long corridor of books, sat at a table for four there was Momo, Mark, and Tzuyu. The latter, unlike her Sarx companions, wasn’t writing or reading. She had her eyes craved on Namjoon. 

The Psykhe’s captain decided not to look too much, or read too much into the situation. He had to avoid looking suspicious. Recomposing himself, he put the book on the shelf once again and turned his back to Tzuyu’s prying eyes. 

“Let’s go back–” 

“She’s still looking,” Kaya whispered with concern. And before he could say anything else, she made rushed decisions for the both of them, “We’re stopping this for now. We can talk later.” 

As she turned the corner leaving him no space for refutation, Namjoon couldn’t figure out if they were stopping the conversation or their relationship altogether. He had to swallow his frustration as he was well aware his back was still being stared at. 

And who knew who else was paying close attention too…

Summer still lingered in the air as the students from class 104 dozed off to the sound of Mr. Perry’s soothing voice and the ceiling fans. Philosophy felt like a drag whenever the class was theoretical instead of practical. 

Elena sat in the last row of desks, sharing one of them with an absent-minded  Jungkook. She took notes from time to time just to keep herself busy and although throughout the first part of the class, she thought the boy beside her was doing the same, it became pretty clear that was not the case as she peeked to the side and saw a view from what she pegged being the Psykhe’s tower drawn on his notebook. 

She whispered so only he could hear, “That looks amazing”, and he took his while perfecting the twinkling stars on his pitch-black sky before answering with a brief chuckle, “I try”.

The class continued irrespective of Elena’s admiration and Jungkook’s pencil lining. The room was a stage for a lazy symphony composed by Mr. Perry’s throat being cleared here and then and some bored sighs at the end. The time of the class helped the preposition to be lulled instead of trying to create a ruckus with chitchatting. 

But then a notification sound reverberated alongside the teacher’s voice. Some heads, from owners that still had some stamina left, turned to the guilty one holding the phone. Elena’s included. The student apologized sheepishly doting a sheer of red on his face while turning off the device as if it had been a coincidental mistake. Mr. Perry was about to restart his explanation with an unbothered stance when the girl sat by Belle’s side, right at the front row seats, exclaimed reproachfully with her phone at hand. 

Some students exchanged glances, and others paused what they were doing to look at her expectantly. “What is it, Vanessa?” someone asked from the back. The teacher tried to pay no mind going instead to write on the imponent board behind him. 

Suddenly both Vanessa and Belle turn around and stare in Elena’s direction with pitiful eyes. The girl is taken aback by the gesture but tries to deflect them by looking back with a shrug. 

“Holy shit…” one of the boys let out while scrolling his phone. Elena looks at him apprehensively, and Jungkook finally lifts his head peaking above the shoulder of his table mate to grasp the situation. While the constant noise of chalk being dragged on the board serves as background, the class starts to get restless. Phones are being pulled out of pockets to kill the famish curiosity pairing in the air. Elbows jerk and eyes turn inquiring toward her. 

Elena panics and suddenly she knows. It’s You… Again. 

She doesn’t take the time to check. Jolting out of her seat she grabs her purse and rushes toward the door, exiting it with a minor bang. 

“Elena, wait up!” Jungkook has to sprint to catch up to the girl, ignoring the teacher’s warnings. The strap of his backpack hangs loosely from his right shoulder. “What happened?” 

She faces him with teary eyes, lips in a pout, as she manages to say through a sob, “I’m fucked.” 

The boy frowns. Not knowing what had caused her to be in such a state makes Jungkook panic a little. He had been a victim of Elena’s emotional side more than once but he was never alone to calm her down. “Let’s just take a deep breath.” He sounds more shaken than confident in the solution he was able to find. 

The girl dismisses his words as she keeps on cursing under her breath, phone up to her ear. Jungkook keeps on hearing the faint recording of the call being directed to the voicemail.  

“Should we go outside? Catch some fresh air?” Jungkook attempts again, this time even more uncertain. 

The girl doesn’t give him an answer, instead hastening her pace towards the courtyard. Her focus is still on her device and through the corner of his eye, Jungkook can make out the messages app open as she types feverishly into a group called The Runaways. Jungkook recognized the photos of the other two members of the group–Freya and Kaya. 

Taehyung had been the kind soul to explain the name to Jungkook once he heard Jin referring to the girls like that. His facial expression must have shown how confused he was by the nickname and so his peculiar roommate explained that the trio had tried to escape from Horus Academy one night during their first year there and got caught–of course. Kaya was a mess because of the two weeks of detention and Hoseok even added that she had palpitations from having to visit the dean’s office so soon after her arrival at the school. 

The group was close, regardless of all of them being so different. And to Jungkook that was something that was sometimes revealed to be difficult to comprehend. They were good people, that he was sure. Despite all their quirks and inevitable penchant for secrets. No wonder he had fit so well. 

“Was it You?” Jungkook finally dares to speak. They had already reached the courtyard and Elena had sat down at one of the picnic-style tables scattered around the place, her feet tapping on the bench rhythmically. The girl nods in response and Jungkook’s curiosity gets the best of him, “What did they say?” 

Sighing, Elena shows the phone to the boy and the way he frowns as his eyes scan the text on the screen makes her realize that she’s in for a hell of a couple of days.

“Is–is it true?” Jungkook asks hesitantly. The second the words come out of his mouth he regrets it. His stomach is in a twirl and he would rather not know the truth. 

“Of course, it is. Whoever that psycho is, they are deep into our lives and know all about our darkest secrets.” Elena speaks angrily. Jungkook’s question doesn’t bother her. He has been with the group for a while now and she trusts him. He has been loyal to them despite all the attacks they have been under since day one. Had she been in his shoes, she doesn’t know if she would stick with such a problematic crew. She always wondered why he stuck with them in the first place, and she had gotten close to asking him about it a few times, but Kaya cut it off after all her attempts, advising her to ‘not be rude and ask’. 

“Yoongi was right–” Jungkook flops down next to Elena, finding a seat on the picnic table. His tone isn’t accusatory, like a parent reprimanding a child, but mostly hopeless. “We shouldn’t be poking the bear,” he looks her in the eye, seriously. “it’s going to poke back.” 

Scoffing, Elena gets back up on her feet, hands finding a firm grip on her hips. “Of course, we should! We all got secrets, Kook, I know–”  She glares at the boy, huffing as yet another tear rolls down her cheek, “We want them buried but I’m not going to sit here and let it hold such power over my life.” 

“But–” 

“This person is insane. What if they start blackmailing us? Pinning us against each other?” Jungkook shifts in his seat but the action passes unseen by the revolted girl. “Are you going to sit by and watch the house burn down?” 

Eyes stuck to the floor, Jungkook finds comfort in analyzing his fingers. Elena’s words are marked on his brain as if she kept on asking the question over and over again. Pressing his lips together, he doesn’t manage to look her in the eye as he reaches the final verdict, “I–I don’t know Elena.” 

“I know Yoongi was right. But fuck this.” Elena’s focus is back on her phone. “Jesus Christ why is no one picking up their phones!” 

Relieved by the change of subject, Jungkook tries to uncover more of the newest secret You had revealed, “Are you trying to call your mom?” 

“Heavens no. If she got word that we were being harassed she’d come down to the school and take me out of it. I would never see you guys again.” Elena laughs drily. “What about yours?” 

Jungkook tilts his head, confused by the question. “What?” 

“What would your parents do if they knew you were strapped to a tree for an entire night?” Jungkook hadn’t been a target of You yet–at least not directly–and so far, the Sarx folks were the most fitting candidates for the shoes of psycho. 

Jungkook’s eyes are big as Elena sits down on the bench next to him. In an attempt to diverge from her stare, he takes out his notebook from his backpack. “You know–the same.” 

Glancing at the girl lets him know she was analyzing his not-so-confident answer. “Do you want to see more?” Jungkook is quick to ask as he lands on the page he had earlier been drawing on. The Kardia girl’s eyes light up as her lips turn into a smile, pleased to have a distraction, “Yes, please.” 

Word around Horus always traveled fast. But nothing could quite compare to bad news. With cell phones prohibited in class, it was astonishing how people had already begun whispering in the hallways about the latest rumor of the all-star group attending the boarding school. 

The first period of the afternoon had barely ended when the courtyard where Elena and Jungkook were, began to fill quickly. The raven-haired boy was quick to find a distraction for the girl that made herself heedless of the preying eyes in an almost impeccable way. 

“Damn…” The hand that rested on Elena’s shoulder had been what startled her but Jungkook was only aware of Jin’s presence when he made his voice heard. The Dianoia member was facing the opposite direction of the other two, back leaning against the table as he took a sip from his soda can. 

Jungkook swiftly shifts on his seat, his legs standing on each side of the bench. He can now see Elena and Jin perfectly. 

“Not that I thought you a straight record, but when you pulled a Regina George today on that psycho, I at least thought you were secret safe,” The expression on the oldest face says how incredulous yet disconcerted he is with the situation. He was in a complete mix of feelings. 

“Excuse me?!” Jungkook notices how Elena’s eyebrows furrow and how her once relaxed demeanor is quick to leave her body. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t say I told you so!” Jin reassures, lips wet from the last sip he took from his soda. He scootches closer toward Elena, casually crossing his legs while he still stands. “That will be Yoongi.” 

“Oh, fuck off Jin.” The girl in turn stands up from the bench, now leaving an empty spot between the two boys. Her phone is quickly retrieved from her pocket and placed on her ear once more.

“You kinda did, though,” Jungkook whispers to Jin, lips pressed. “You kind of said it.” 

Jin widens his eyes, distant, not really focusing anywhere. He then takes a last sip from the can in his hands, before spurring in Jungkook’s direction unable to suppress a nervous laughter. 

“Who are you trying to reach?” The doe-eyed boy opts to ask Elena instead. She had been nervously pacing back and forth. Her thumb rests between her lips the whole time as she nibbles on its skin. “Maybe I can help?” He offers again.

The proposal sounds weak despite his best intentions, and as a consequence, he ends up being ignored by the other two. 

In the distance, as he looks over to distract himself from the situation, Jungkook can make out a duo that skids through the increasing crowd. Taehyung and Jimin spurt toward their table, the latter’s hand already in the air, signaling his presence to the group. 

“Hey, you okay?” Taehyung reaches the girl first, hands finding her shoulders as he looks her down, almost as if examining her physically. “Is it real?” He questions as his hands slide toward her neck and his thumbs gently force her chin up so he can scan her eyes. 

“Of course it’s real.” The Kardia boy spats, passing by on his way to the vacant spot between Jungkook and Jin before Elena had a chance to answer. Taehyung sent a death stare to his back, biting on his tongue so as to not make the situation worse. The tension between the two best friends was so palpable even their algebra teacher had noticed that the pair was odd—as they used to spend the class playing games in each other’s notebooks or talking, now they avoided eye contact. It was impossible to deny that there was some unresolved business between the two. 

“Jimin–” Elena is taken off by the sudden attack of her best friend but before she can continue, Taehyung cuts her off, unable to look past Jimin’s pretentious eyes as he sat down and stared back. 

“Just because you tend to make shitty decisions it doesn’t mean everyone else follows the example so stop being–”. 

“It’s not that ludicrous. It happened to me, too.” Jimin shrugs and Jin scoffs at the sudden outburst, somewhat entertained. 

“Ludicrous? Huh,” He laughs. “Aren’t you a committed student...” Taehyung is quick to bark back. 

Jimin’s eyes are filled with fire, but he decides that ignoring his best friend is a better response. "Why would you even do that?" He directs his words at Elena instead. "What dumb thought crossed your mind that made you think that it would be a good idea to go after You after what happened to me?" 

"Dumb thought?! Was I supposed to just sit and watch this shit show?!" Hands anchored on her hips, Elena's focus is no longer on her phone.

Jimin laughs incredulously as he shakes his head and looks at the crowd. People kept staring at them, waiting for more drama to unfold. "Are you happy now that everyone is giving you the side eye?" 

"You certainly seem to be." Elena pokes at his chest, index finger waving in accusation. 

"Me?! I didn't even know you were going to do this. Let alone that you had this secret.” Jimin looks at her with accusatory eyes, and differently from Jin, Jungkook can’t help but think he should do something to stop the arguing. “Good job at being a best friend, by the way! If every best friend kept a secret like you we would all stand equally as strangers!”  

“You-!” Elena lifted her finger once more but was gently pulled back by the boy behind her. Taehyung couldn’t care less if people were beginning to stop their own conversations to eavesdrop on theirs. 

"Like you told me about yours?! Or any of us, for a matter of fact?" He is quick to jump back into the discussion. 

"This isn't about me." Jimin stands his ground, clearly upset.

“Do you know where Namjoon is?” Jin shifts on his seat, his arm resting on the table as he supports his head in the palm of his hand, eyeing Jungkook directly. He seems too comfortable with the ruckus happening not even two feet from them. The youngest doesn’t even get a chance to answer before Jin continues in a tired voice, “We need Namjoon to make them hold hands again.” 

“Hold… hands?” Jungkook furrows his eyebrows. The concern he once felt completely dissipates, leaving space for confusion instead. 

“I’ll tell you later.” Jin nods his head, reassuringly. “It’s just that Namjoon made them hold hands another time. When they fought, you know.” 

“Oh, God!” Elena raises her voice, gaining the attention of the two whisperers and the other two bickerers. “Where is Kaya!” 

“She shouldn’t take too long,” An out-of-breath Namjoon takes a seat where Jimin has previously sat by the picnic table. “I lost her and Hoseok in the crowd.” 

“We have a dumpling situation again,” Jin comments, pointing at the two boys standing. “Make them hold hands, for the love of God, I can’t hear them anymore!” He complains nonchalantly. “Lucky me I don’t have a mirror otherwise I’d see for myself I aged ten years while I sat here listening to this crap.” The Psykhe’s leader can't help the chuckle that escapes his lips as Jin rambles as fast as a bullet. "First things first, what happened?" He exhales as he asks the group, now recomposed.

"Elena bossed up and went after the psycho and now the psycho went after her, but much more effectively." Jimin explains, and the girl in question glares at him. 

Jungkook can’t help but rub his eyes frustrated. His right leg embraced a frenetic rhythm afraid the bickering would restart. “Not again…” He mumbles to himself.

Namjoon nods silently, glancing around to assert the gravity of the rumors. In his peripheral vision, he sees Elena ignoring Jimin, preferring to show attention to her cell phone instead. Taehyung looked at him expectantly but he was just as lost. He just couldn’t show it to his peers. Perhaps by being a leader he had picked up the habit, but something in his being told him it had to do with all those eyes prying at them instead. "It does nothing for us to be going at each other's throats…" Namjoon reasons with them, his voice low enough so only his friends could hear. He preferred to wait for the rest of the group to arrive before discussing their situation. He also prayed Yoongi or Hoseok would bring with them some sort of solution. Or at least help to calm the other’s down. 

"Freya, where the hell are you?" Elena asks, visibly relieved when her call goes through. The boys all look at her awaiting the answer to her question. As she huffs and looks at some point past the courtyard, listening to what Freya was saying, she feels the urge to interrupt with a plea. “Run faster then,” she says, “I can see her already and she is ready to kill me. I just know, alright? Just run… Ha-! Well, because you don’t sound like running to me!” 

The second Elena clicked on the red button to end the call, she realized Kaya had shortened the distance between them way too fast. Faster than she imagined, even if she was well aware her roommate was fuming. Hoseok stopped right behind his sister, panting from trying to helplessly keep up with her pace. 

Namjoon got up from his seat instinctively, worried that neither Taehyung nor Jimin, who were standing by, could do something to stop the wrath of his girlfriend. “I just can’t believe you!” Kaya exclaimed. “Wasn’t it enough seeing Freya, Yoongi, and Jimin being targeted?! Why would you do something so reckless, Lena? For heaven's sake!”

Elena sighs, fingers massaging her temples as she turns her back on her roommate. “Not you, too.” she says, and both Jimin and Taehyung are struck by déjà vu. 

“No, no, no! Don’t turn your back on me.” Kaya speaks through gritted teeth. “Don’t you even think that you will get away with this.” 

The shortest one doesn’t hide her arched eyebrow as she turns around. “Last time I checked you weren’t my mom, Kaya,” she says decisively. It takes a good minute for her roommate to process her spiteful answer, and a longer one for the silence that broke amongst their peers who watched the exchange like statues. 

“Just stop.” Hoseok cuts sharp as a knife. “It’s not the time to fight about who’s at fault here.” He glares at the both of them and as Elena mentions to speak up he continues, “I don’t care. I just want to know who the hell is behind this. Who could have this kind of information–All the freaking time!” 

Namjoon feels the need to intervene as he looks around and all of them, besides Hoseok who had a desperate demeanor to his face, had their eyes trailed to the floor, hopeless. In a space between the harsh revelation of both secrets, they had gathered no information about their stalker or even a thread of where to start looking. They were completely in the dark. “Let’s wait for Freya and Yoongi–Who are just much part of this as Kaya has said. And then we can all sit together and make a timeline of events. We’re gonna find something–“ The leader tries. 

For brief seconds Jungkook remembers how to breathe again, certain that this time Namjoon’s approach had worked out. It was visible how everyone collected themselves, pondering his words. He was right, after all, there was no point in arguing without everyone present. They would be just circling back and forth, wasting the little time they seemed to have. Even Jungkook, who was never the most patient one, could understand that. 

Students begin passing by them quicker, seeing there was seemingly no secret conversation to overhear. To them, the all-star group looked like showcase dolls being exhibited in the courtyard. 

“What did I say?” their heads move together as they hear Yoongi’s familiar voice. He circled the table with his arms crossed, making Jin scooch closer to Jungkook so he can sit on the bench as well. “I told you exactly how this would go down, didn’t I?” he says, looking disappointed but not at all surprised at Elena. 

And it is enough, just like a snowflake is to trigger an avalanche. 

“I will say it slow enough for you all to grasp it–Fuck. You.” Elena bursts. “It’s my secret.” she points to her chest with a wave of moved anger. “My choice.”

“Elena–”

The strawberry blonde one couldn’t find in herself the patience to listen to any of them anymore. The shock of the situation finally untied her naturally proactive self. “No!” she exclaims back. “I won’t shut up about it! Whoever this creep is, they deserve someone barking back.” 

“HEY, hey!” Freya comes like a tornado. It’s clear that the girl had been running to get there as the sunglasses that are almost always securing her hair back is crooked to the left. Her locks are tousled. “Finally!” Namjoon gasps. 

Freya places a hand on Elena’s shoulder as she comes closer, and it works like magic. The shortest one’s uproar quickly ceased. “Before we mess this up,” her voice is steady despite her rush, and commanding enough to make them all pay attention. “Let’s move this circus to a more private tent, alright.” Her over-expressive eyes pointed at the crowd beginning to surround them again. Some cell phones were being aimed like guns at them, ready to shoot and record the perfect evidence. 

Kaya, different from the rest of the group who tried to discreetly look around, was too possessed to notice anything but what was happening between them. “Heavens! Stop trying to make us forget what this is all about!” 

“I’m not the one that stops things from happening, Kaya. You got me confused.” Freya adverts. “Just get out of your head for a second and look around.” her eyebrows do the work this time as they shoot up. And for the Dianoian girl’s terror, she was the center of attention. 

"Freya is right," Yoongi speaks tiredly. Not that he was bothered by the ridiculously noticeable glares of the other students. He had been used to being the freak everyone stared, pointed, and laughed at. But this You person had really started to get on his nerves by assuming they could get rid of them as easily as possible. 

"Do you remember the spot of the last trial of the games?" Namjoon is already pulling the strap of his bag over his head as he speaks. He walks around the table, arm swinging around Hoseok's shoulder as he pushes him out of his ecstatic state and forces his feet to levitate from the ground. "Let's meet there in 10. All of us." 

Namjoon leaves with Hoseok. Being the captain of Psykhe had thought him a thing or two as the whole group—even the ones that were from different houses—respected his words. 

A stare-down happens between the two roommates, now not-so-seemingly best friends, and Freya stays right in the middle of them. The boys on the table don't dare to move. Until Elena lets out a dry chuckle, eyes rolling as she makes her way to the table to fetch her bag. "Will be seeing you all in… 8 minutes." Her sarcastic smile is directed at Yoongi, who sighs in response as he too gets up to go and try to get rid of the people who could possibly trail them. 

"You better go somewhere else." Taehyung coldly speaks to Jimin before skipping after the Kardia girl that was about to quickly get lost in the crowd. 

"What did I do?!" Jimin whines as he's about to be left alone by the table as Kaya storms by herself, and Jin seems to make his way to enter the main building again. "Jin–wait for me!"

Satisfied that everyone listened to Namjoon, making the rest of the students confused as to who they should follow, Freya pulls Jungkook by the hand toward the stadium. She wasn’t a fan of crowds. Passing by all those that were surrounding the courtyard—even if Horus Academy didn’t have that many students to begin with—felt like a nightmare. The grand stadium seemed the right choice as the structure was placed on the other side, they just had to cut through a grass path and some isolated trees. 

Not a soul seemed to follow the two. Jungkook made sure to look back every time he heard a different noise that wasn’t his own feet clashing with the dirt ground or Freya’s. And as some distance was already put between them and the unpleasant moment they had just experienced, Jungkook cleared his throat. For the first time, he was bothered by Freya’s silence amidst this chaos. “This, uhm… It wasn’t what I had in mind when we said we’d be meeting each other after classes…” 

The girl doesn’t slow her pacing, and neither does he, as they are still locking hands. “That’s because technically we’re still in classes. So this ain’t it.” She shrugs with a rapid smile. 

Jungkook chuckles and keeps his eyes on the back of her head. She wasn’t being her carefree self, he could notice. He wondered while she lead him astray from the path to the stadium and down a small ravine through the woods if she seemed distant only due to her best friend being targeted. Again, her relationship with Yoongi crossed his mind. It seemed odd that he was the one holding hands with her and not her boyfriend. 

He wondered if he was crossing a line. “Why isn’t Yoongi here?” he decided to give it a shot. 

“What do you mean?” The girl seems more preoccupied to point to him where he can’t step in order not to fall than not falling herself. He holds her hand tighter as she slips once before replying, “It’s just that he went alone. And you’re here–with me.” 

Freya’s eyes travel from the ground to his face and she halts her steps. They are right at the base of the ravine and the only thing they can hear is the whisper of the trees dancing in the wind. Jungkook nibbles on his lips as she eyes him without an answer. Suddenly his questioning seems rubbish to himself, his actions quite inappropriate and selfish, and the girl in front of him a dream within a dream. 

She opens her mouth to reply with a prepared lie, but nothing comes out of it. Not even an excuse for him not knowing well the paths around school, or looking seemingly lost back at the courtyard. Would it be so bad to tell him the truth?, she thinks to herself. His fingers laced on hers seems the answer and the fire that ignites her bold decision. “Yoongi and I, we–” 

Beep. 

Beep.

Their phones going off at the same time is enough to cut her sentence short. Their hands fall from each other as they grab the devices instead.

Jungkook’s eyes leave the screen first to check on the girl in front of him. She zooms in and out of the picture posted to check its veracity. As she glances up to see him, Freya is nothing but decided. Hints of anger flash in her irises. “We’re almost there. Are you up for a sprint?” she asks and he nods promptly. “Be careful with branches. They’re bitches for ankles–trust me.” 

They run, succeeding in avoiding smaller rocks and the tree branches the girl advised him about. Both had been here before for the games, but this felt more urgent. More secretive. And by the nature of You’s recent posting, much more treacherous. 

"I can't believe you." It’s the first thing they hear as they arrive panting. Everyone is already there, which confirms to Jungkook they had been the ones taking the longer route. Yoongi drops his bag on the floor. He's fuming. "I can't fucking believe you, Elena." 

"Oh, and here he goes again." Elena mimics his actions, bag, and jacket dropping right by her feet as she places her hands on her hips. "Here comes Yoongi, on his high horse." 

The boy in question chuckles. He rubs his forehead as he sighs, looking up at the treetops swinging, trying to choose wisely his next words. He didn’t want to start a fight, far from that. He knew their real enemy was clearly You, and whatever he did, he for sure wasn’t going to be compliant by serving exactly what that deranged wanted—them all fighting each other. "Just–What are you trying to do? I want to understand because it seems simple to me that this person isn’t one to be messed with" They now stand close to each other and both Taehyung and Jungkook feel the need to take a step forward. 

"I told you–I'm not going to stand down." Elena simply shrugs. "We've been friends for how long now, Yoongi? …Is it really too much to ask you to back me up on this?" 

It’s clear to them all how Yoongi ponders as he looks her in the eyes. "You're being selfish." Kaya spits. "You're just thinking about what you want." 

Elena turns to her roommate with a scoff, "And you're not?" 

"How am I selfish?!"

The look Elena gives her says enough to have both Namjoon and Freya on their toes. "Kaya…" The boy threads lightly. He has to stop himself, the craving of holding his girlfriend's hand driving him mad.

Jimin however is the one that moves, but away. He shakes his head as he goes to sit on a stem, looking defeated as he leans his forehead on his arms. Hoseok catches a glance at his roommate’s lack of spirit, deciding to intervene for him. "El, please. We've just been to hell and back with Jimin." He says harshly, as he leans against a tree with arms crossed. It was a rare sight to see Hoseok like that, and if the circumstances were other, the discussion would have ended with his word. But not everyone standing in that glade wanted to be picked at, and some had less to lose. 

"She's not wrong…" Freya points out, unafraid to be looked upon by Hoseok’s hard judgment.  

"Thank you!" Elena throws her hands up in the air, exasperated. Freya glares at her, clearly not finished with her point. Before some of them can revolt, she adds, "Lena is being reckless and she does need to calm down, but she did prove something." 

"Oh, c'mon Freya, don't encourage this." Yoongi complains and Jin feels the need to add, “People, this isn’t Law and Order for you to be proving stuff!”

Freya unlike the others wasn’t carrying a backpack, but she did take her glasses off her head, dropping them on top of a pile of things that rested next to a tree trunk. Her hair fell in the process to frame her face. “Listen–” she began, hands coming to her sides to put them all at ease. "You posted real proof. They had the evidence ready to go. Just like that." She snaps her fingers to add to her case, “This seems somewhat already thought through, no? Or at least it has to be someone that is able to get this kind of thing–Documents and shit.” 

Hoseok looked at Namjoon to confirm if he had to be worried or not, depending if the leader had bought the argument. The engines on his head worked speedily. "And that only makes everything worse," Jungkook says, breaking his silence.

"How so?" Namjoon is intrigued by the sudden intervention, and he is not the only one. Taehyung stares intently at their group’s novice expectant to finally hear his reasoning. Even Jimin looks up. 

"For starters this person is insane,” Jungkook states blankly. He wasn’t used to reasoning things out loud, but all eyes were on him, pushing him to speak further. “They have already proved this to us… With Freya, Jimin… Yoongi’s thing that day at the games as well… And now this Elena thing–And honestly, it's bothering me how normally you're all treating this situation–" 

"Normally?" 

There is some confusion pairing in the air, some eyes trailed to the floor reflexive over the last weeks. But the novice tries to avoid those so as to not lose himself in his own argument. "How are you not afraid, El?" Jungkook's eyes widen as he looks at her instead. She doesn’t answer as her point of view differed tremendously, and he tilts his head unable to comprehend the coolness they exuded faced with such things. "I don't know about you guys but I never had something like this happening to me. I was tied to a tree by a bunch of psychos–who still study here by the way, and Tzuyu is even Freya’s roommate–And you guys keep on getting threats…? They found out about Jimin being with a teacher and–no offense, man–but the logic of this person is to share it online to intimidate us and here we are, making secret reunions in the middle of the woods." 

Jin is the one to cut the silence by laughing nervously, "When you put it that way…" he adds, “No wonder we are being targeted.” 

Jungkook’s eyes are still unable to search for anyone else’s as he adds. "I just think we shouldn't worry about figuring out who this person is or what they want. I think we just need to know how to get them the fuck away from us." His voice sounds defeated as his focus shifts to a rock poking on the ground. He leans his body forward and kicks it.

"One thing very much so implies the other, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news." Elena points out, and as soon as she does Taehyung gives her a reproachful look. She mouths him a questioning ‘what?’ in silence, as he shakes his head. 

Freya doesn’t listen to the comment, however, as her feet work just as intently as her head by drawing patterns on the grass as she paces around. "It can't just be anyone…” she says, deep in thought, more to herself than the others. “It's someone smart, clearly… And they have a motive."

"Stop it, you two!” Kaya’s outburst makes her brother jolt surprised, leaning further away onto the tree to shore himself. “For heaven's sake, just stop!" she begs, frustrated. Jin is quicker than Namjoon to side-hug her, and the Psykhe’s leader inhales relieved as he sees Kaya burying her face onto Jin’s shoulder, returning the hug. “This is getting out of line.” Hoseok comments fed up. “Look at what they’re doing to us!” he gestures emphasizing their defeated postures. 

"You're the ones allowing it." Elena shoots, crossing her arms. 

Kaya turns into Jin’s embrace in a flash upon hearing her words. "What is your problem, Elena?!" she mentions to walk toward her roommate but Jin wraps one arm over her shoulder line, pinning her in place. Still, she points an accusatory finger at the Kardia girl. "You're going to end up putting everyone in the front line with how you’re handling this." 

"It was one thing to play the rumor card at lunch but now…" Yoongi commented resigned as he closed his eyes. He too crossed his arms, and to the ones watching, he looked like basking in the sunlight that poured through the clearing as his face was tilted up. He opens his eyes and looks at the shortest girl before adding, "You just proved that everything they post is real. You showed that they are a credible source. You know that, right?" 

"So what?” Taehyung questions. “Just because they have proof of Elena's doesn't mean the rest is true." he shrugs in discontent. "And besides, she hasn't implicated anyone but herself." 

There is a sense of veracity in what he says, or better, how he says it, and the group goes calmer as they let his words sink in. Jimin is the only one that shows unconformity as he stands up with a scold plastered on his face. "Funny how when it's her, it doesn't matter, but then when it was my secret or Freya’s it was that big of a deal.”

Taehyung dismisses his remark with a simple side eye, and a scoff is heard before Elena adopts a sarcastic smile to her features "Are you seriously comparing being in a fucking deranged relationship to getting in an accident?" 

“Okay let’s–” Namjoon tries. 

"It wasn't just an accident. You were driving drunk, Elena." Kaya insists, untangling herself from Jin’s arm and retrieving her phone to showcase You’s report. "And according to this, I'm pretty sure your next stop was a stomach wash at the hospital." 

"Are you serious?!" the hurt in Elena’s voice is able to be sensed a mile away. 

"Am I wrong?" 

The group has a second of stillness as no one can think of a better thing to say, or even how to proceed from there on. Freya looks from one girl to another, fearing they were stranding too far for a possible rescue. She can tell how frustrated and fearful Kaya is being, but she can also see how profound the embarrassment in Elena’s eyes is as she shifts her stares through the group. “You know what?” the strawberry blonde adds, “Fuck you, Kaya.” 

"Am. I. Wrong?" Kaya keeps pushing with a clouded mind and the tallest of the three finally shouts a reprehensive ‘Hey!’ so as to break their flare. 

With drained faces, they all seemed a little out of orbit. The group has had its fair share of disagreements before, that picnic table in the courtyard of Horus knew how many spiteful arguments Taehyung and Jimin shared. The halls of the school were tainted with bickering. But it never felt like they were standing with a cliff between them before. And the fall, Namjoon feared if he didn’t stop it, would be too decisive. 

"That's more than enough." The leader spoke with bravado. "We came here to try and figure a solution out. This was not to go at each other’s throats!"

"No–Absolutely not. I’m not wasting time with this anymore.” Elena shakes her head, fed up. “I've had enough of your bullshit." She eyes Kaya as she speaks. "Always running around like you're Miss Perfect. I'm tired of this–I'm tired of you."

She walks toward the pile stacked by a tree, picking up her bag, resolute to walk away as Kaya replies. "If I’m the Miss Perfect for thinking of others before doing reckless things–Fine! Be it! I will rather be labeled as that than be labeled as a freaking selfish bitch."

Elena ties the sleeves of her jacket around her waist as she angrily rebuts, "Oh, don't you fucking worry, Kaya–your stupid little secret is safe!" 

The shock on Kaya’s face is tremendous as she gulps down her anger faced with the threat. Both Freya and Jin feel the need to barricade whatever reaction she was about to have, as he places a hand on her shoulder and the girl grips at her arm. On the other end, Yoongi is about to stop Elena from leaving, as he is still firm about coming to a conclusion for this unexpected and needed reunion when they all hear the snap of a branch nearby. 

No one says a word, as heads perk toward the sound and all pairs of eyes are busy scanning the foliage. 

“There’s no way… Right?” Jungkook questions almost in a whisper and a chill runs through their spines. More silence follows, no one dares to say a word. And although no one is able to indeed spot someone in the woods, watching them, they know in their hearts—You was somehow there. “MhmHm.” Hoseok shakes his head, picking up his backpack. “I’m done here,” he adds, as he starts to make his way to leave, pulling Jimin alongside him and signaling Kaya to follow. Elena’s last statment about his sister awakening a paranoid distrust in the pit of his stomach.

In a matter of seconds, the group is scattered. They leave in pairs, trios, and some even wander alone, but none is able to shake the awful sensation of still being followed. 

“I thought I might find you here…” Namjoon says as he approaches Kaya carefully. She had been skittish lately, especially with him, and much to his misfortune, the Psykhe’s captain couldn’t blame her even if he wanted to. Deep down he knew her reasons, even after their rocky encounter at the library. “I think–”

“Listen,” she interrupts him. Kaya fixes her position by the feet of the giant Gaia statue so she could stare at her boyfriend’s eyes properly. She had discovered that statue by chance due to venturing inside the maze, only a few students knew existed, in the gardens of the imponent boarding school. Lately, the girl felt perhaps, aside from her girlfriends, only she and Namjoon knew of its existence. “I know what you’re going to say. And I love you for caring but I really don’t need a lesson right now.” 

The boy before her lows his eyes to the colorful crystal-clear pebbles adorning the floor, and opens a smile as he tucks his hands into his pockets and kicks softly one of the tiny rocks. “Seems I can still surprise you after all,” he says and looks up to see her reaction. “I actually came to say I get how you feel.” 

As she looks suspiciously at him, he shrugs. “I get that just like me you know nothing about this ‘you’ persona and that all of us are scared.” he continued. “And I also get that you have a lot to lose in case your secret–Our secret comes out, and that is frightening.” 

Kaya looks at her own hands, curled in her lap while weighing his words. He then takes the opportunity to take a few more steps toward her. “Not knowing what could be thrown at us is scary and I would definitely take a more…” he stops to think of the proper choice of word. “Cautious approach. But that is my style, my personality faced with danger. So is yours.” 

Their eyes meet again and she takes force in his argument to let her anger out. “Exactly! So why–” Namjoon places a hand on her thigh, coming a little closer. 

“That doesn’t mean everyone will behave identically when confronted with the same situation… I get you, and I get myself for thinking the way we think, but I also get Elena.” 

Kaya scoffs, her anger still not subdued. She crosses her arms as she says “So much for saying you weren’t giving me a lecture.” and all Namjoon can do is laugh as he wraps his arms around her frame. 

“And I’m not! I was just saying I get everyone for having the reactions they’re having at the moment. Was it a bit imprudent of Elena to go at that psycho? Yeah, a bit… But I get her. Some people run, some people hide, others much rather grab the bull by its horns.” he says and she gently leans her forehead on his chest. “Besides, we do need to take action. That thing in the clearing…? It happened at the library with us.”

As the girl inhales deeply, with her eyes closed, Namjoon caresses her hair with a soft touch he only knew how to invoke for her. In this sense of security, Kaya is brave and steady enough to uncross her arms and place them around his waist. She pulls him closer, compensating for all the time they stayed out of each other’s reach. “You’re like a very much-needed cup of tea,” she says diverging subjects and looking up at him. Her chin is now the one being pressed against his chest. 

“Out of all things, a cup of tea?!” 

The smile reaches her eyes as he exclaims indignantly. “It’s the only other thing besides you that manages to calm me down.” she says.

His eyebrows waver and she sees how he is pondering her statement. It’s in moments like this that she finds Namjoon precious. She knows he will find the beauty in her phrase and intent, and because of that, this moment will be significant forever. He will make sure of it, as he had done countless times before by sneaking little poems he had written himself inside her books. 

“If that is the case… Alright. I’m good with being a cup of tea.” He muses, showing off his dimple. “Healing properties, right?” 

“Tons!” she says, grabbing him by the collar of his tee and locking him in a kiss.

Freya liked the transition from afternoons to evenings the best. There was something calming about how the sun would set every day just as she would. With a big breath of hers, it was already hidden away again, all of the stress that burned her shoulders gone within those bright and scorching oranges against the deep sea of blue. At least until tomorrow came.

The Psykhe tower was the best place to watch it happening, but ever since she found out about the shocking truth of someone stalking her from there, she hadn’t felt comfortable hanging in her old spot. And because of that, she found herself taking a stroll around the school grounds, searching for her new safe haven. Only the sun knew how much she needed some peace and quiet away to drown her frustration after the recent events and their last meeting at the clearing. And Jungkook, after their shared encounter earlier on. 

She had her headphones on, whispering soft melodies into her ear, and because of that, she didn’t take notice of someone walking behind her. She was really close to the borders of the woods, staying close by after having left the group’s rendezvous but opting to skip classes to uncloud her thoughts. When she looked up at the sky, the oranges began to fade, and all that golden light blind-sighted her. At this rate, she would lose the sunset. 

Then a gulf of wind hit her face and a chill ran down her spine. A pair of hands came in contact with her shoulders and she shivered, remembering the last moments before she and her friends were scared away from the clearing. 

Taking her headphones off in a hurry, she turned around startled. The sound of laughter invaded her ears before she could even meet the eyes of her jumpscare. 

“Got ya!” the tall golden retriever-like boy exclaimed as soon as she came face to face with him. 

“Mingyu!” she stressed. “For fucks sake, I almost died!” 

The response she received was more whole hearty laughter and that eased her mood. She smiled seeing him have fun but something else clung to her heart. 

Ever since the games, the both of them had grown slightly close. Every time they crossed paths around school, there was a smile there paired with brief hellos and sincere curiosity. By Monday morning a mutual invitation to be each other’s lab partners in one of the few classes they shared—chemistry. 

Still, he wasn’t the laughter she sought to hear when all that orange was about to clash with the soon-to-be night sky. 

“So what are you doing around here?” Freya asks and the brunette has to wipe his joyful tears to be able to answer. 

“I was on my way to the dorms actually. Just got out of practice.” 

Freya still couldn’t help but admire his genuine smile and how his freshly washed hair dropped some water droplets on his face. But at the same time, her head was dancing elsewhere. A few yards away, to be exact, where under an oak tree she had made a deal to meet after classes. The sun was setting, but she was still to hear from her free-period companion. 

“I saw you walking by and decided to say hi.” Mingyu continued searching for her eyes. 

“And that’s how you say hi?” she laughed. 

“Next time I’ll try to be more… Charming about it.” 

“Next time?” her eyebrow raised. She couldn’t say she ever paid attention to a guy from school before that year, or that she ever really liked a boy from there. Well, besides her friends of course. And that was mostly because she was afraid of things that required too much vulnerability on her side. And a tiny bit because no one had ever seemed worth the struggle she called trust. Did they genuinely like her, or did they just want the status? So the story unfolded naturally. There were too many eyes, and being a great wall to climb became a trait of personality she was too comfortable with to change. 

Ever since she got unrightfully exposed, however, by sneaking into the boys' quarters, some freedom of choice was returned to her in that regard. No one was interested in knowing who the next guy in her love life would be. And so she perhaps was beginning to feel ready to come out of her shell. Both in love and new friendships. But the former wasn’t the risk she wanted to take when it came to Mingyu… Possibly if someone else hadn’t arrived in that department first.

He seemed to understand her line of thinking as his eyes got bigger and his expression turned sour. Suddenly he was apologizing. 

“Oh–I’m so–So sorry!” he shook his head as if realizing what he had just done. “You have a boyfriend. I’m being disrespectful. I’m sorry.” 

At first, she was confused. Boyfriend? She didn’t have one. That wasn’t her point at all. But then the recent events hit her like a truck and she had to inhale hard to get hold of the little patience she still had. 

She liked Mingyu. She could tell they could be good friends, amazing even. So she took a leap of faith. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” she asked. Freya didn’t have much to lose at this point, and she needed this. A safe space of her own. 

Mingyu nodded attentively. 

“Yoongi isn’t my boyfriend. We never even hooked up.” 

She could see in Mingyu’s face how surprised he was. All the engines of his brain working to make sense of what she had just confessed. Freya was relieved, however, to finally get it out of her system. That someone knew the truth besides her and her girlfriends. That she was at least in control of that tiny little confession and somehow still free. She almost did it earlier on that day anyways. 

“Why…?” the words fell off his lips, afraid to lengthen the subject in question. Freya offered an encouraging glance, waiting for his inquiry to be resumed. He got hold of what her eyes wanted to convey this time. “Why are you two pretending to date then?” 

“I guess Yoongi knew how much bothered I would be by the amount of gossip even though I pretend I’m not… And he also knew people wouldn’t shut up about it until a name was given to the starving crowd. So why not his? Everyone already assumed we were together anyways.” 

“I’m proud to say I’ve never thought that,” Mingyu confessed, raising his hand as a solemn promise. “I even argued otherwise.” 

Freya chuckled, finding it endearing. “You would have been the only one then.”

The darkness of the night was already covering every nook of the school like a cloak when the group of friends received a text from Elena. 

Nothing but three words. Classroom 202 now. 

Receiving a text from the girl after what went down that afternoon seemed hard enough to conceive, let alone one so encrypted like that. And so, each and every one of them immediately stopped what they had been doing and rushed in secret through the marble tiles of the main building in search of the room she invited them in. 

One by one they entered. Elena was already there, pacing back and forth when the first of them arrived—Taehyung. It was evident that she possessed some kind of information that she would much more like to be false thinking of her part. He didn’t need a second look at her to prove that. 

Hoseok and Namjoon entered right after. Kaya was a few seconds behind them, and they all felt the same. Besides being afraid of possible detention for running through the halls so late at night, all sat in silence waiting, taking in the gravity of the situation by glancing into each other's eyes in the dark. And it didn’t get better as the more they waited, the more impatient and eerie they all got. 

Elena still paced, cryptic. Sometimes she would look out the window or check the door for the ones missing. She would hear some of them whispering to each other questions she couldn’t lose time answering, nor had the patience since she was still hurt by their last meeting. At least not unless everyone was present. 

And then Yoongi opened the door, everyone looked at him frightened and relieved at the same time. Some searched for something behind his back with their phones flashlights and that made him turn around to check the hallway. It was too dark.

“What?” he asked, spooked, searching for their eyes once again. His hand is still on the knob, keeping the door open, as he too turns on the light from his device.

Elena paces quickly in his direction, pulling him into the classroom and peeking outside to check if he was indeed alone. She closed the door rushedly. “Are you alone?” 

“Yes,” Yoongi replied confused. “Shouldn’t I be?” 

“We’re missing my sister,” Taehyung said, going toward the window alarmed. The only thing he could see through that darkness was the woods silhouette. 

“Ok…?” Yoongi continued completely clueless, barely making sight of everyone present in the room due to the poor illumination. “What am I missing? We better have a fucking good reason to be out here.” 

But no one replied. Or even attempted to. 

Both girls looked at each other in a silent question about Freya’s whereabouts, putting their resentment aside momentarily. They reached the same conclusion with a hopeless shrug of shoulders. And Hoseok’s concerns didn’t help to lift the mood. 

“You don’t think she was attacked like Joy… right? She wouldn’t…” As soon as he questioned it Jin slapped his arm with a hard stare and he shut up flustered. But the possibility taunted everyone present. 

There was a pause. Time halted in that classroom. In a flash, Elena pulled her phone to text Freya in desperation, the faint flashlight from her mobile turned off in the process and the room got darker than it already was. 

“I’ll go look” Jungkook offered, a dagger piercing his stomach for missing out on both his and Freya’s promise to spend the after classes period together. Right at the same time, Taehyung crossed the room to the door. 

“C’mon…” Yoongi mumbled as he pressed his mobile closer to his ear, trying to call the girl in question. He had finally grasped the gravity of the situation. 

Jimin and Kaya were by the big window, swiping the landscape beneath them inch by inch. A red bleep twinkled by the edge of the forest and Jimin leaned his nose against the cold glass to try and see it again. He squinted his eyes, but nothing appeared. When he was beginning to think his eyes were playing tricks on him, he got startled by the sound coming from the door. He turned back in a flash. As soon as Taehyung opened it to set foot outside he came to a halt. Jungkook consequently bumped into his back like a domino. 

“Get inside!” They heard Freya’s hushed voice demand. “Turn that off. Now!” 

Suddenly the room was engulfed in a deep blackness. The kind of dark that makes the hairs on your nape jump. The one that makes every fear you have come true. No one dared to whisper a word out. All they could do was search for each other’s shadows and listen closely for the haunting sound of thumping against the cold marble floors of the corridor. 

A few minutes passed, maybe seconds when Yoongi lit his phone again. Time was hard to pinpoint when faced with the extreme nothingness of a total blackout. Soon, all convinced that the night guard had moved on from that section, they all turned the soft light of their screens back on again. 

“Sorry–” Freya was the first to break the silence. “I was already outside… Had to go around that security.” 

“Just. Please,” Kaya begged on edge, “Let’s get on with this–Whatever this is and go to our rooms. Please.” 

In a silent agreement, all eyes turned to Elena. 

The strawberry-blonde girl lifted up from the crouch she was previously hiding in and leaned on the teacher’s desk. The ones close to the floor followed, sitting by the empty wooden chairs in front of the class. Only Jungkook and Yoongi were up. One leaned by the wall and the other by the door to keep watch. 

“I texted you all here because I think I figured it out,” Elena says, a bit taken aback by her own statement. 

“What do you mean…?” Jimin inquires, and everyone looks as if the world would end. Because in fact, it was. 

“I know who You is.” 

next chapter.

[sehunniepotwrites]

SHELVED AWAY | JH.S

SYNOPSIS. You and Johnny have been academic rivals since the day you first met. Top Two on the Dean’s List for your university’s English Department, it was hard to tell who claimed the number one spot on the list. You always butted heads, whether it was over who led the discussion in a course lecture, who got a higher grade on a paper, or who helped more customers at the bookshop you both worked at. When a bet to see who could sign up more customers for their shop’s loyalty program came to life, the both of you would stop at nothing to win this little game even if it meant getting closer to the other.

PAIRING. coworker!Johnny Suh x (f) reader GENRE. college!au, bookshop!au, enemies-to-lovers!au, academic rivals!au, suggestive, humor, fluff (?) WORD COUNT. 4.6k+ WARNINGS. characters are like cat-and-dog, make-out scene, profanity, name-calling (lmao), they bicker a lot

DISCLAIMER. This is work of fiction. I do not own the people/characters and concepts I have written about. You cannot translate or copy my work.

There were many things you loved about your university. 

You loved how the campus was swarmed with trees, each building surrounded by a lush and vibrant green in the spring and summer months and warm brown shades during the cold of autumn and winter. You loved the sense of community your school upheld, always hosting events that were opened to anyone and everyone in the immediate area. The way it made you feel at home when you were miles away. The friends you made in your major and the small department you belonged to. 

You adored it all. 

The one thing you hated about your university though wasn’t a thing at all. It was a person who went by the name of John Jun Suh. People in the English department, whether it be faculty, staff, or fellow students called him by Johnny but you wouldn’t succumb to calling him by his preferred name. It made you seem closer to him than you really were and you despised that even being a possibility. You weren’t close. You were far from that. 

Johnny Suh was your rival in every sense of the word. The top two students in the entire department—he concentrated in Literal and Cultural Studies while you dabbled in Creative Writing—you never saw eye to eye. 

Even in a shared lecture hall, you and Johnny were miles apart, distance fueled by your competitive spirits and mutual distaste for the other. 

Miles apart and still butting heads as academic rivals were destined to do. The discussions in the courses you shared were led by your volleying, voices only increasing in volume as you challenged each other’s thoughts and cruxes. Fighting for the attention of the professors. Competing for the highest grade on the latest paper or the spot of tutor in the Writing Lab. 

And just how you had a certain way of doing things, Johnny did the same, using a completely different method. 

In other words, the two of you were complete opposites. 

While you preferred the lighter side of fiction, he longed for the darker bookish themes. The same went for your style of dress—your academia-themed wardrobe was filled with whites, off-whites, and the lighter colors of the spectrum whereas Johnny’s clothes consisted of darker statement pieces including black turtlenecks and dark brown slacks with matching coats. Dark shades and fits that only accentuated his devastatingly handsome figure. 

When you felt comfortable studying during the light of day, you always caught Johnny entering the library in the dark of night as you left for home. 

He was a bookish social butterfly, his wings fluttering about here and there around the English department building and in any club that sparked his interest, while you stayed in your tightly-knitted group of friends. 

Your friends never understood why you hated him. Yes, you were rivals when it came to grades and other educated-related things, but they truly believed you would get along if you really got to know him.

You hated him because it seemed as if he was blessed with everything in life—intelligence, a light and friendly attitude despite his dark attire, physical features that rivaled ones belonging to the gods. Thick hair that looked good in any color. Eyes that shined behind the glare of his rounded specks. Proportions that made both men and women alike swoon. A voice filled with a variety of colors. Johnny was almost perfect without even trying and you despised him for it. 

They were wrong about you and him. So completely wrong.

You knew it. You were almost certain Johnny knew it too.

There was no way you could get along with John Jun Suh. Never in your wildest dreams.

You thought you would find solace working in the town center’s bookshop. Clearly, as Johnny stood before you, with his brand new name-tag pinned against the expanse of his chest, you thought wrong.

To make matters worse, you were the one assigned to train him, to show him the ropes. According to your boss, there was no one better to show the giant how everything works around the store. Your boss wasn’t wrong, you just hated the fact that you had to share one more thing with Johnny Suh. 

With and without your help, Johnny picked up quickly and worked his way up to one of the shop’s top sellers list. Once again, you two were tied for a title. Your boss, sensing your drive to compete, fueled the fire even more in the form of commissions. 

As one of the only bookstores in your college town, your place of employment was quite a popular place. People of all ages flocked to your store to find the book they were seeking and it was time to take advantage of it. In order to engage with customers, your boss launched a loyalty program in which people could earn points that led to discounts. An employee of the shop would earn a commission every time someone signed up for the program under their recommendation. The staff member who received the most commissions within three months after launch would get an extra bonus. It was a fantastic plan, one that was well-received by the staff and the public, especially by you and Johnny.

The two of you found it as another way to compete, especially when you were the highest performers in house. A bet resulted from this “friendly” competition, the loser having to do whatever the winner wanted of them. You remembered the day the bet was established, the rage festering inside you egging Johnny on.

“I’m going to get that bonus, Suh, just you wait,” you said, pushing yourself off the shelf you leaned on. “Just you fucking wait.”

Johnny’s face whipped straight to you with a smirk permanently etched on his full lips. With raised brows, he answered, “Oh, I think you’ve got it all wrong, sweetheart, because that money is mine.”

He tried to distract you with silly nicknames and it didn’t work. “Stubborn as ever, aren’t you?”

“I’d say the same about you,” Johnny lowered his lids, lashes brushing against the tops of his cheeks. He crossed his arms against his chest, muscles straining against his tight shirt’s form hugging fabric. You willed yourself to look away from the bulging muscles that caught everyone else’s attention.  “I’d suggest a bet but everyone knows I’ll win.”

“Oh, please. You’re too confident in yourself!”

“And you’re not?”

“I’ve been here longer and I have more customer service experience than you, John, so I clearly have the upper hand,” you argued as your feet led you to him. 

“And yet all the customers come to me when we’re servicing the same area, I wonder why that is,” Johnny shrugged, “Must be your resting bitch face scaring them away.”

You scoffed, “Is that supposed to be an insult? You need to try a little harder to actually hurt my feelings.”

“Believe me,” Johnny paused to say your name and you tightened your fists to fight the shiver his words caused, “I’m only just getting started.”

“Okay, if it’s a bet you want, fine. I’m in. Loser gets to grant the winner’s wish, no matter what it is.” You stuck your hand out and it lingered in the air for a second too long. 

When you tried to pull it away, Johnny’s hand reached out to join them together. You ignored the electricity that shocked your brain. The feeling of warmth his touch gave you. 

“Fine,” he agreed.

“Good!”

“Good.”

Neither you or Johnny announced what you wanted as punishments, saving the surprise for when the three months concluded. Despite that, you were not one who took losing well. So, you did whatever means necessary to win. Johnny did the very same.

Your coworkers gave up on winning that bonus because no one was as passionate as you both were, parading around the grounds while sabotaging each other. Johnny hid your online orders and you stole his customers. You had yelling matches in the stock rooms, ones others could hear if they passed by the back doors. They never stopped you–they knew better than that–instead, they just let it all unfold, wondering where your arguments would lead you next.

“Stop taking customers away from me!” you screeched at him one day when the shop was devoid of people. It was a slow day so far with no one else but Johnny and a few more coworkers to keep you company.  

You passed the point of annoyance and almost grabbed the closest hardcover within your reach. A good hit on the back of Johnny’s head would do your coworker some good. Johnny deserved it, especially when that specific guest signed up for the program right in front of you. You caught Johnny double checking the person’s entered information on his computer screen, reading everything back to him to check for accuracy. 

You couldn’t believe he ripped another one away from your fingertips. According to the data up till then, tallied on a whiteboard in the break room, Johnny was five commissions ahead of you. You were in the lead last week but he intercepted so many of your customers in the past two days, Johnny saw catching up as child’s play. That last customer made it six. 

Johnny simply rested his sharp chin, “You were taking too long so he came to me. Seemed like he was in a rush.”

“I was trying to find him the perfect copy,” you spat back. “A lot of the covers were damaged during shipping.”

“And some people don’t care about that stuff.” 

“Are you saying you don’t?” you asked.

“No, I do. But others, like that guy who just left, don’t.” 

“Whatever, fucker,” you turned away from him, logging back into your computer that kicked you off during your time away. 

“Such eloquent words coming out of that pretty mouth of yours,” Johnny laughed, satisfied with the irritation in your voice. Your mind fixated on the compliment and you did your absolute best to ignore minuscule, barely-there thump in your chest. “Wonder what other insults you can come up with. Maybe you’ll dive into some Shakespearean ones, those are always fun.” 

“Watch your back and your customers, Suh,” you threatened, fingertips pressing harshly against the keys. 

He heard the anger with every little click. “Sure, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Just for that,” Johnny smirked, “I don’t think I will.”

“Thief.”

“Slowpoke.”

But as the months passed, there were times when Johnny would get a little too close to you and his presence didn’t bother you as much as before. 

His voice wasn’t as irritating from near or far. Your eyes stopped twitching when Johnny would change his commission count on the communal white board. 

Sometimes, you would feel his large, warm hand on your back as he tried to get to his register. Other times, you felt his breath hitting your cheek while he leaned down to look at your computer. When you argued, you were suddenly hyper aware of how his body was less than an inch away from yours. How he, at times, would stare at your frowning lips for a beat too long. Or how his biting words turned a little kinder when you were having an off day. 

Those things shouldn’t have affected you in the way that they did, making your heart rumble in your chest like an earthquake shaking your entire world. But as much as you wanted to deny it,  Johnny tugged on your heart strings. Unknowingly, his actions made you revisit the chapter of your story that focused on love. Little by little, they added words to pages left untouched for many years, bringing the paper to life. And you weren’t sure of where this plot point was taking you next.

“I didn’t know you liked this genre,” you approached him one day as Johnny sat in the break room. His nose was stuck inside one of your favorite novels, one that you recommended to anyone who asked for a romance suggestion. The book itself came out two weeks ago and it sold out within hours. 

You, being an avid reader and book reviewer, received access to an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review. And an honest review you gave that had everyone who followed you buzzing until the release date. 

“Well, there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Johnny smiled softly at you, his long fingers coming up to slip a bookmark in between the pages he left off on. He slid past you, gently placing the novel back into the small crevice of his work locker. “It’s really good so far, I see why you’ve been raving about it. I’d keep reading but my break’s up,” he said to you, his hand grazing at the small of your back to move you out of his way, “but I’ll talk to you more about it later, yeah? I marked some quotes I liked.” 

Your gaze followed him out, not knowing why that touch and his words made you freeze in place. It made him seem like a romantic, something that you really wouldn’t have guessed. 

There were a lot of things you knew about Johnny Suh. You knew how he irritated you to death and how he always came in early for his shifts. He hated being late. He was always on time. 

You knew how he preferred darker neutrals than your lighter colors when it came to wardrobe palettes. How he belonged to a different English concentration but still took creative writing courses to expand his verse. 

But there were a lot of things you don’t know about him, too. You didn’t know how he took his coffee in the morning or who his favorite author was. His favorite genre of book or his preferred type of music when he studies so diligently on his breaks. You didn’t know how he liked to spend his time away from school and work. Whether he preferred plain sticky notes or the Disney Princess ones he was currently placing on the pages of your favorite book.

You didn’t know if he was dating anybody or remotely interested in anyone at the moment. Not that you actually cared.

There were a whole lot of things you didn’t know about Johnny but just looking at him with your beloved novel in hand, marking the pages with his own inklings, you felt your heart wanting to learn more about the coworker you came to hate. Yearning to occupy the spot in front of him and exchange his current thoughts on the book. Longing to hear how his mind interpreted fact and fiction.

You didn’t know much about John Jun Suh but the book of your heart had already opened its pages up, ready for him to fill you up with words and maybe, his love.

It was the second to last week of the bet and you were working the busiest shift of your life. 

There was a signing with a popular author earlier in the day, flooding the store more than usual. It ended around an hour ago but the weening crowd from the event lingered in between the aisles. Some of your coworkers already clocked out for the day, only assigned the hours of the signing. But you, of course, were not able to leave as you were that day’s shift lead. So you carried on, starting your rotation as the customer service stand in the middle of the store. 

You smiled at a customer who approached you, grabbing their sheet of confirmation paper for a book on hold. Gesturing to the back room with the paper in hand, you said politely, “Wait right here. I’ll be right back with your book.”

The customer nodded at you in reply and with that, you were off. Johnny, who was manning the other customer service computer next to you, followed suit. Rolling your eyes, you attempted to walk faster but with daddy long legs behind you, it didn’t take long for him to catch up to your pace. Pretending the tall boy with the stupid round glasses and the stuck-up dark academia fit wasn’t there, your focus remained on the paper in your grip. Studying the printed font, you maneuvered through various bookshelves without looking up until you reached a door that read “Employees Only.” 

Swiping your employee card to grant you access, you hurried in to keep Johnny out. Kicking the door closed you didn’t work–Johnny’s long foot caught it before it shut and you cursed. You wished it slammed against him, inflicting some sort of pain—much like the pain he caused you. 

Sighing, a realization hit you. He was never going to leave you alone no matter how hard you tried. But did that truly upset you or did it leave your body buzzing with nerves? 

“You’re ignoring me,” Johnny deadpanned as your hands ghosted against the spines of many books lining the shelves. His heavy footsteps echoed in the room; it was louder than your nervous breaths. Being alone with him did make you nervous, not that you would ever admit it out loud.

You would never admit to the butterflies you felt when he was around or the way your heart pounded erratically against your breastbone. You would never admit the way the scent of his perfume drove you a bit mad—almost as mad as the famed hatter—or how irritatingly handsome he looked when he studied at the counter, full lips in a pout and rounded glasses sliding down the slope of his nose.

Or how much you liked when he did little things like holding the door open for you when you had a dolly filled with merchandise. Making sure you got a worksheet that you missed during a class discussion. How you grew sweet on him when he’d drive you home after a shared closing shift, expressing his concern for your safety. 

Johnny said he wouldn’t want any girl to wait out in the dark for an unreliable bus. He’d rather see you home so he was one hundred percent sure you made it back to your apartment in one piece. Johnny wouldn’t leave the lot until he saw your bedroom light turn on. He memorized what floor you were on the day he took you all the way to your door. It was the night some loiterers were being loud and obnoxious at the front of your building. You didn’t feel safe walking past them on your own, frightened by the drunken catcalls they threw at people passing by. So like any good person would do, Johnny draped a protective arm around your shoulder, told you to keep your pretty little head down, and led you to the elevator. 

You even caught yourself dreaming about him during the day and night, random thoughts of him streaming into your consciousness. They were like little movie reels playing in your head. Scenes of him sitting in the corners of the shop, reading and annotating the books you recommended to guests, or him sipping on that large cup of iced americano that he consumed daily.

You would never admit to any of those things, especially not to him.

“I’m not ignoring you, you’re too insignificant to ignore.”

Johnny laughed a light chuckle as if he thought your response was cute. You hated it. 

“I just don’t want anything to do with you, and also— I. Am. Working,” you hissed as you finally reached the shelf you were looking for. The customer had ordered a new contemporary romance novel—one you found yourself indulging in during your breaks before it was released—but it was nowhere to be found in your stock. 

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Johnny’s voice came from behind you. You felt the heat of his body and you clenched your hand, ultimately wrinkling the paper you held. That was fine; the customer didn’t need it after your interaction anyway. It was going straight to the trash, just like your heart was. 

Your not-so-fragile heart was going in the damn garbage because you were letting a stupid pretentious English major rile you up over the dumbest things. An ounce of hate consumed you as you came to this epiphany. You were supposed to hate him, despise him for challenging your position as the top seller in the store, and for stealing your spotlight from the English department. So why didn’t you?

“God—where is that damned book?” Your irritation seeped through your words and the way you slammed the metal shelves. 

Johnny chuckled, easily snatching the paper from your hands, earning a small huff from you. He took a glance at it before shifting his gaze to the higher shelves--the ones you needed a step stool for. Your co-worker, smug as he could be, found it easily and with confidence, he reached for it. The action pressed you against the shelf, your hands immediately finding purchase on the metal to steady yourself from the unexpected weight. His strong, hard chest was against your back and his hot breath hit your ear. “Looking for this one?”

You stiffened against him. You could not move, not when Johnny’s weight trapped you between his arms. Not when the sweet scent of his cologne was flooding your senses. Not when his low, husky voice whispered in your ear. 

“I don’t need your help,” you hissed back, fingers gripping onto the edge of the shelf. 

“You need my height.”

“There’s a step stool right there for me to use so no, John, I don’t need your help.”

“Clearly, you do, sweetheart, you couldn’t even find that book for that sweet customer that’s waiting for you out there.”

The nickname, although a bit heart-fluttering, was also somewhat degrading and it set you off. Fire seeped through your veins. With a breath, you turned so that you were chest to chest. With furrowed brows and a piercing glare, you said, “I don’t need you—“

“You sure?” Johnny leaned closer, his hazed eyes dipping down to your frowning lips for a fraction of a second. 

You caught the action and again, your heart tried pushing its way out of your body, “—or your help or your teasing here and in class. I’m tired.”

“I’m not.” Of course, he wasn’t. He never was. That’s what made him so annoying—his persistence. 

“Give me the book, John.” 

“Nah, I think I’ll hold on to it for you.”

“Hand it over.”

Lowering down to her level, he smirks and says, “Why don’t you make me?”

“Don’t think I can do it?”

“Oh, I’d really like to see you try.”

Johnny’s challenging words pulled you to do something unexpected. Instead of replying with words, you accepted his provocation by yanking him to your level and fitting your mouth against his. Your fingers curled in his long, soft hair while his free hand drifted to your waist. It wrapped around your middle, further trapping you in between his build and the cold metal shelf. 

Johnny kissed you like it was something that he wanted to do. Like it was something he was meant to do. Whenever you moved, he followed. Every little tilt of the head or breath you took was followed by him finding his way back to you. There was no escaping his lips, his scent, his whole entire being. Johnny was all around you and for once, you let yourself indulge in the moment. 

When Johnny swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, you opened yourself up to him. You allowed him to explore parts of you that had been closed off for many years. The levels of passion were on an equal scale, the tiny noises escaping you matching the level of Johnny’s eager groans. He made you forget where you were once his grip found its way to your chin, pulling you to close the space you created as you took a needed breath. The task of helping the customer was temporarily erased from memory as he pulled away just enough to whisper your name against your lips.

But it all came back to you once you felt that book–the one you fought him for–press against your middle. It was wedged in between your bodies, distracting you from the pleasure that came from kissing your rival. 

So, as Johnny went back in for another kiss, you grabbed the book out of his loosened grip and shoved him away. 

Taking a good look at him, Johnny’s face was red and his lips were all kinds of swollen. There was a dazed look in his eyes, one that was so hazy, it was the dreamiest thing you had ever laid eyes on. His hand remained at the level of your head, fingers twitching, as if they wanted to grab hold of you once more. Your name barely escaped his lips when you slowly retreated towards the exit. You created a wider space between you, with the coveted book in one hand and the other blindly reaching for the door handle.

“There. See?”

“See what?” Johnny said breathlessly.

“I tried,” you replied, staring right into his eyes. If you looked elsewhere, if your gaze wandered back down to the lips that tasted so addicting, you would have folded and ran back right to him. Shaking the book within his view, you continued on, “And when I try, I always get what I want.”

Giving him no time to talk back, you opened the door and made your great escape. 

His brown eyes remained on the door long after you left, waiting for his heart to calm itself. His fingers rubbed against his lips, mind still clouded with no one else but you. That wasn’t an odd occurrence to him, it was actually quite a normal one. Not that you had to know.

Johnny opened up to the thought of you long before that kiss occurred. 

It happened earlier in the year, when he saw you tutoring his friend Mark in the English department’s writing center. You diligently helped the struggling student, offering him constructive feedback with a high amount of patience. You stayed hours after your tutoring shift ended, making sure Mark hit every point on the grading rubric to ensure that he would get a passing grade. 

There was no need for you to go out of your way like that but you wanted to out of the goodness of your heart. And just like you assisted Mark, you continued to go above and beyond in your bookstore clerk duties to guarantee that every customer left satisfied. 

Your dedication to your work was admirable. It made you all the more charming in Johnny’s eyes, even more charming than the first time he laid eyes on you during first year orientation. 

A new book opened way back then, the love story in his heart practically writing itself. But as your treatment and obvious distaste towards him worsened over the years, he shelved that book away. Despite the harsh treatment he didn’t deserve, Johnny’s heart always held a soft spot for you; the page he left off on dog-eared for him to return to. It remained folded, the crease pressing a permanent indent into the page in case Johnny wanted to explore his feelings in depth once again.

And as you rang up the customer that you fought over, Johnny went through the library of his mind, searching for that book he filed away. And once he found it, he pried it out of the shelf and opened it back up, undoing the crease that bookmarked where he left off. 

Johnny was ready to fall in love again but more importantly, he was ready to fall in love with you. 

EMPLOYEE BULLETIN BOARD. Hey, everyone! I’m back. Long time no chat <3 First of all, happy new year! But more importantly, happy Johnny day!!! I went through my archives to find this. It was originally planned to be a longer fic but I lost inspiration for it. Maybe I can come back to it one day and fully flesh it out. But until then, this is all I’ve got (until Jaehyun’s birthday). Please tell me what you think of it. I feel like I’m a bit rusty ;;;

A big thanks to @lavendersuh for reading through this multiple times and editing/suggesting things when she saw fit. You’re the best, Em <3 @smileysuh you’re the king for also skimming through this. And @yutaholic for indulging me as I spam her with all my ideas uwu. You’re awesome!! 

TAGLIST. @johtenrecs @emmybyeakitty @ppangjae @sokkigarden @kaepop-trash @suhnnyskiess @baekhyuns-lipchain @bebsky @bat-shark-repellant @renjuunsz @ferxanda @lebrookestore​ @tyongblr

NETWORKS. @neowritingsnet​ 

© sehunniepotwrites, 2022

[superego-imagines]

Hi there. I have a writing request, if you have time. Specifically for Norman/Otto from the Spiderman PS game. They have *history* and I'd love a ficlet of the time their relationship disintegrated over ethics and they break-up (with a lot of feelings still left on both sides). Angst really isn't my strong suit so perhaps you can provide?

Settling - Octogoblin Angst - 2.4K words

((Thank you so much for this request! Those two are my favorite Divorced Couple and I love the PS4 version of them. There’s so many layers and so much history to their relationship. Neither of them is a perfect person and they bring out the worst in each other. I love angst and arguments so this was really fun lol. I hope you enjoy it!

Dr. Octavius’s chest shuddered as he tried to steady his breathing. His hands folded over each other as he hung his head as low as possible. As if he just curled up far enough he’d be able to disappear entirely. God what he wouldn’t give to just disappear. Any time he closed his eyes, the afterburn of the light reminded him of the fluorescent blood splatters that had coated nearly the entire lab. And the screams…he didn’t need to speak the language to understand the terror in their voices. He should have done something. But he couldn’t have done anything, Norman had stopped him. He knew the man was desperate but he never thought he’d do something so stupid.

“You look like you could use a drink.” An uncharacteristically-soft but still familiar voice came from behind him. Otto flinched away from the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. He hadn’t heard the man come in, too lost in thought to really register anything around him. Norman leaned against the work-desk across from where Otto was sitting. A brandy decatur rested on the table beside him, the time for drinking from glasses clearly having passed. He took a sip and fruitlessly tried to smooth back where his hair was beginning to frizz out. “We won by the way. No thanks to you.”

“Won?”

“Of course we won. Kid’s public defender couldn’t even be bothered to pay for a translator. If anything the settlement was more generous than it needed to be. If he plays his cards right he should be set for life.”

“He’s an orphan, Norman. No amount of money changes that.”

“And I suppose that’s my fault too? How could I have possibly predicted that he would turn into- that he would become- whatever that was.”

“But you didn’t know! That’s the whole point!” Otto stood up and closed the distance between them, “You didn’t know what the virus would do, but you did it anyway! How many times did I tell you it wasn’t ready? If you had just listened-!”

“If I had listened to you the boy would be dead. With us having spent years fussing over every little detail before even testing the damn thing. He didn’t have time to wait.”

“You mean you didn’t have time to wait.”

Norman’s face dropped from its dismissive annoyance into an utterly expressionless mask. Otto hated that face. Even Norman’s anger was better than when he wasn’t Norman at all. “What do you mean by that?” His tone is flat but as cold and caustic as solid CO2.

“I know this is about Emily.”

“Oh? Is it? Is there something about me attempting to cure my dying wife that you find unacceptable?”

“Norman- Arrgh! You’re twisting my words. I hate when you do this! You know that’s not-”

“I should have known that’s what this was about.” Norman chuckled but there wasn’t a trace of humor in it, “Christ, you’re pathetic. Anyone ever tell you, you get real cruel when you’re feeling sorry for yourself?”

Otto’s hands tightened into fists at his side as he let out a shuddery breath. Norman was just deflecting. He was just saying whatever he could think of to make him upset, that way he wouldn’t have to actually defend his actions. “This isn’t about her.”

“You can’t even say her name can you?”

Otto raised his voice, trying to speak over him, ignoring the jab, “This is about you being reckless-”

“No Otto. You brought her up. You made it about Emily. So let's talk about Emily. I was very honest with you from the beginning about what I needed and what I could and couldn’t do. You promised me you wouldn’t do this.”

“I know. I know what I said. I know I can’t…” Can’t give him a family. Can never be his husband. “Give you what you want.” He understood that. Really, he did. When Norman and him first started this, whatever this was, nearly a decade ago, he had understood it would have to come to an end. They’d never be able to make a name for themselves if they couldn’t at least pretend to be straight. He’d even understood when Norman had suggested staying together in secret while they both pursued other relationships that could provide them cover or in Norman’s case, a chance at fatherhood. He’d understood that and hadn’t minded all the sneaking around and playing the best friend. And he could have lived his whole life like that, if it was just a cover. But it wasn’t. Norman had gone and fallen in love with her.

And the worst part is, he couldn’t even hate her for it. She was too much of a damned saint. He couldn’t blame Norman for falling in love with her, in another life, he might have too. She was brilliant, there was no denying that, and maybe even more admirably, she was passionate. She was always thinking of new ways to heal the world. Not only as a scientist but as a humanitarian. In a lot of ways, she reminded him of Norman when they’d first met. Back when O’scorp was going to bring humanity into the future, before the company had swallowed him whole. She was perfect and he’s just…familiar. Nostalgic maybe. A habit Norman can’t quit.

“You are what I want. Damn it Otto!” He groaned and rubbed his hands over his face before closing the distance. He rested his hands on the others shoulders, as if doing so would force him to stay but still unwilling to pull him any closer. “I care about you, and I want you in my life. But I also have a family to consider. I love all of you, and I don’t want to lose her or you. You have to understand the position I’m in.”

“I understand…” Otto swallowed the lump in his throat. He understood perfectly.

Norman sighed in relief, “Thank you. I just don’t know what I’ll do if she…”

“She’s not going to die. That I’m sure of.” He pulled away from Norman’s hands in order to put his own on his shoulders. “You have some of the greatest minds in the world working here. I know you’ll manage to find a cure.”

“We’ll find a cure.”

“No…” Otto steeled every nerve in his body screaming at him to stop. To think about what he was doing. To think about what he was throwing away. He couldn’t say no to Norman. He never said no to Norman. He needed to stop before he said something he couldn’t take back. Stop. Stop. STOP. But no. He couldn’t stop. He’d made up his mind when he’d heard the boy wailing for the mother and father that were splattered across his face. “No. You’ll find a cure. I’m leaving the company.”

“What?” Norman wrenched away from him, “You can’t leave. Why would you leave? Is this about Emily?”

“I already told you. This isn’t about her. This is about your complete disregard for any sort of procedure. You went behind my back to do the first human trial of a medical procedure that wasn’t even approved for animals. The fact that you would do something so monumentally stupid and selfish and reckless and…and…” He could forgive a lot of things. He could forgive the cruelty and the ego and all the little ways that Norman drove him absolutely insane. But at the end of the day- “I just can’t trust you anymore. I don’t like where you’re taking O’scorp, and I won’t have my name dragged down with it.”

Norman reached out to him again but he stepped back, maintaining a distance, “You’re one of our lead scientists. Even if you hate me, think of what it would do to the company. Your talent would be wasted anywhere else, and our grants would be wasted on anyone other than you.”

Pins pricked at Otto’s chest and at the corners of his eyes. Of course he’d have to threaten to leave before Norman would dole out a scrap of validation. He couldn’t deny it had an effect on him. The part of him that was still a scholarship student, craving the praise and attention of his peer despite hating him for being everything he wasn't, called out to him, begged him to reconsider. That he needed this. Needed Norman. That without him he was nothing. Well, they’d have to see about that, but he’d be less than nothing if he stayed. “I can’t be a part of this…Whatever this company is becoming. I want to help people. I wanted to fix the world with you. But you only care about yourself.”

A flash of genuine hurt crossed his features, “Do you really think so low of me?”

“I…” Yes? No. Maybe? “I have to go.”

Norman pulled away from him, straightening up as his face dropped into one of cold indifference, “Fine. But understand if this is what you want, you’ll be doing this on your own. You’ll have to find a new source of funding.”

Otto rolled his eyes, “Obviously.”

“Alright. I’ll schedule a time for you to meet with the legal team to discuss your settlement. All further communication will be going through the company’s legal team and a representative of your choosing.”

“What settlement?”

Otto could make out the slightest twitch of a smile before Norman quickly turned away, “Don’t worry, Dr. Octavius. You will be compensated for your time and effort on Oscorp’s projects. In exchange you will turn over all current research and prototypes to the company, with the understanding that any and all use of previous studies or patented prototypes would be in violation of the non-compete clause in your contract.”

“What? What are you talking about? That’s my research!”

“It’s Oscorp’s research. Gained from studies conducted by you but under Oscorp’s roof, with Oscorp funds, with Oscorp technology, with test subjects compensated by Oscorp.” He looked at Otto and this time he couldn’t hide the slight smirk, “You’re a smart man Otto, do I really need to keep going?”

“You…You can’t do this!” All his work…Years of his life that he’d dedicated to this company. It would be like it never happened. So much time wasted. He knew it would be difficult to start over, but to have to abandon everything he’d been working on. It would set him back years, maybe even decades if he couldn’t find another sponsor. Would he even be able to work in the same field? He hadn’t even looked into the extent of any non-compete clauses. It hadn’t mattered because this company was supposed to be his. He and Norman had built it together. It was supposed to be their legacy. “This company is as much mine as it is yours! I have a right to my own research! I’ll sue you!”

“You’ll lose, Octavius. Just like always~ You think you know the law better than my people? Be smart and take the settlement.”

The faux sympathy in his tone strummed at Otto’s raw nerves. He’d seen this monster before, but it had never been directed at him. He knew there was only one way this story ended. “And what if I go to the press?”

“And tell them what? That you signed a perfectly legal contract that only now isn’t fair? Or maybe you intend to break an iron-clad NDA in which case you and anyone who reports what you say will be slapped with a lawsuit so fast your heads will spin.” Norman stepped into his space again and Otto fought the urge to back away. He cringed at the glint of mania in the eyes of the man he thought was his best friend, wincing as he punctuated his sentences with a poke to the chest. “You’ve never had what it takes to run this business. It’s always been mine. While you wasted my time and money with your little projects, I’ve been the one keeping the lights on. I was the one going to the meetings and talking to the investors you considered yourself above. I was the one who put up the funds to build this company and it’s my name on every piece of paperwork because you couldn’t be bothered to properly patent anything. I was the one who insisted you were a good candidate for any project you’ve ever gotten the privilege of working on. And I was the one who gave you a way out from your destiny of utter anonymity and you’re not as smart as I gave you credit for if you think I can’t put you right back.”

Otto wanted to scream. He wanted to hurt him. His mind ran a thousand miles a minute with the things he wanted to say. Every little insecurity. Everything Norman had ever dared be vulnerable about, which admittedly wasn’t much. He wanted to dig a needle inside him so precisely that no matter what he did, he wouldn’t ever be able to claw it out. He could swear his ears were ringing and he’d never hated anyone more than he did in this moment. Well, maybe. He could swear, just barely audible over the pounding of his heart, he could hear his mother's cruel snarl. Look what you did! This is all your fault! Why’d you have to be so mean? You’re just like him. “We’ll see about that. For the sake of professionalism, this should probably be our last meeting. I’ll go and collect my personal effects from my office and will be speaking with the legal team soon.”

He kept his head up but didn’t look towards Norman again as he collected his things and made his way towards the door. As he went to leave, a voice called out from behind him and he hated the way he almost perked up at the sound before he crashed back to reality, “You’re welcome to come crawling back anytime, O.” He didn’t even dignify him with a pause before closing the door on that chapter of his life. Starting over was hard but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to re-envision the future he planned for himself. And this time he wouldn’t let anyone else take it away.