#being brief is not my strong suit lol
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Can you explain things you want to happen to Johnny in the next sing movie(or project or if they make a graphic novel) mine is that he makes his own song.
Ooooooo, thank you for the ask!!!! I'm so sorry in advance, I'm gonna ramble here lol. - <3 Gooseless
--------------------------------- So I actually want a few things to happen in the next project (the continuation fic is essentially all of it lol), but I would definitely agree on the original songs front! That's for sure on my list.
One of the main things though, the biggest one actually, is to continue with Johnny's storyline as a queer allegory. We've already faced familial acceptance in the first movie, community acceptance with the second movie (though I have so many issues with how the dance class was handled), and it would be nice to just wrap it up with personal acceptance. And that might seem out of order but it actually isn't in a lot of cases. I know, for me at least, I spent so much time right after coming out defending my place and my identity to the world around me that I never really took the moment to process I could just finally be myself, and that it was ok to exist. I feel like a storyline like that with Johnny would be amazing, as there are numerous ways to go that route, like romantic (please, I want to see Rynny more than anything, PLEASE) or personal (Johnny finally putting out boundaries with his workload).
This would be an awesome storyline to see through either of those lenses, with a romantic arc featuring Johnny and Ryan being able to use a much more obvious way of showing this, especially if Ryan has already reached personal acceptance. Why that is is because throughout his previous storylines, Johnny has a specific support system for each, with familial being the troupe and community being Nooshy, so it would make sense if the love interest in this scenario, Ryan, took on that role this time around. It works really well in this option as it leads to really cute moment possibilities of the characters, particularly Johnny, just letting himself exist and have something for himself. And I will admit that I feel this is the best option for this storyline, as it is pretty blunt and up-front with the coding then, just like Johnny's other storylines, but also allows Johnny to have something for himself (his identity and his relationship) instead of how we see all his developments in the past movies, aka being broadcasted to the world and not really giving the kid any privacy. He deserves something for himself. And I feel like a relationship with Ryan could be that thing.
But like I said, you could work it as personal as well, with Johnny finally putting forward boundaries with Buster due to the workload the man keeps assigning the poor kid. I feel like a good support system here could be Ryan (if they are in an already established relationship) or his dad and uncles as they would have life experience to advise him on the matter. Johnny is heavily overworked throughout both movies and it seems like the expectations for him are really high, so a moment of him just letting himself exist as the ordinary person he is would probably be very therapeutic for him.
I personally wish they would go in the series direction instead of another movie, allowing for more detail to be poured into the characters, and that is kinda the format in which the continuation fic is written, in a way easily translated to a series. However, I have posted an idea for a Sing 3 set after a time jump around Johnny's story that I'll link below. It kinda goes into the previously mentioned wants for a series but having those already happen and mainly talks about ways to get queer rep around hate groups.
So yeah, I really want to see a personal acceptance journey for Johnny, letting the kid see he doesn't have to fight for who he is or his place anymore, he can just be Johnny, however that looks like.
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Here's the Sing 3 idea thing!
#... I did not think I would type that much#I'm so sorry if this doesn't make sense!#im also sorry for rambling this much#being brief is not my strong suit lol#the rynny shipper in me just really wants them to get together#the cultural and media studies major in me really really wants this to finish out the allegory#and you can easily do both!!!!!#sing#sing 2#sing 3 ideas#sing johnny#sing ryan#sing rynny#rynny#though i should say this now. i will be boycotting anything that has specific actors in it due to their statements about a literal genocide#i dont give a fuck they wont ever get a penny from me#so sing 3 (if/when it happens) is likely going to be ignored by me entirely :) just a heads up#im also a fanfic writer so ignoring canon is what i do most of the time anyway - someone who retconned the entire ending of sing 2#i also changed so much dance stuff because it just hurt my brain#look i can excuse a lot of inaccuracies in stuff but i draw the line at sports i have done and medical inaccuracies
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I just read Between Shoots again and I am on my hands and knees BEGGING for more dumbification😭🙏🏻 (as for who, I’m not super picky lol but preferably Cillian, Tommy, Robert, or Crane <<<3)
dumbification is 100% my weakness thank u for requesting this (& it’s been a little while since i’ve written dumbification so I’m a bit rusty but i would love to start writing it more often!)
Mindless | Robert Fischer x fem!reader
prompt: Robert does not take your teasing lightly lol
WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ MDNI) dom!robert, degradation, dumbification, size kink if you squint, brief misogyny, creampie
*not proofread*
“Get inside. Now.” Robert snarled as his nails dug into your arm, shoving you inside entrance of your shared penthouse. Your cheeks burned with excitement and anticipation, you knew Robert was going to punish you, but you weren’t sure if this was going to be a punishment or a ‘punishment.’
“Ow, Robert,” you giggle with a small smirk, partially playing it up for your own entertainment , “you’re hurting me.”
After slamming the door shut and locking it, It was clear that Robert was fuming after you interrupted one of his important meetings with a slew of lewd gestures, which started to become dirtier and dirtier as time went on.
First it was a wink, then it was a subtle grope to one of your tits, followed by sucking one of your fingers into your mouth. While eyeing Robert down, you slowly brought the digit between your legs.
It didn’t take long for Robert’s annoyance and arousal to reach its peak, leading him to call off the meeting early.
“All I ask is for you to sit there and look pretty while I work, is that too fucking difficult for you? Huh?” Roberts asking you rhetorically. You bite your lip, you know it isn’t nice to push his buttons, but he’s just so sexy when he’s angry.
“You looked so handsome up there,” you coo while running your hands along the front of his suit jacket, “I couldn’t help myself.”
His eyes are dark, pooling with anger and desire. With a strong hand he grabs your hips and turns you around, promptly forcing the front of your body against the wall, pushing some air out of your lungs in the process.
“Wanna act like a dumb whore? You’re gonna get treated like one,” Robert decided, purring into your ear as he hurriedly unzipped his trousers, pulling up the end of your skirt as soon as his hard cock was free.
You gasp quietly when you feel his hot member pressed against your ass. You sneak a hand behind you and pull your panties to the side, not caring enough to fully discard them.
With a groan, Robert thrusts his full length inside, causing your mouth to fall open with whiney moan. No matter how many times you took him, he still stretched you out like it was your first time. He barely gave you a second to get used to the sensation before he was snapping his hips out and slamming them back in, his pace and depth already being deliciously intoxicating.
“Fu-uck-“ you whine, reaching behind you to grip Robert’s suit jacket. His balls teasing your clit with each thrust, taunting you with the potential friction.
“Is this what you wanted?” Robert growled into your ear, his strong hands gripping your hips painfully tight as he fucked you harshly against the wall. “Pretty little thing just wants to be daddy’s come dump, huh?”
Your eyes rolled back and you mewled in response, your back involuntarily arching towards him while standing on your tiptoes. The sensation of him forcing his thick cock inside you left you speechless and you could feel your brain becoming cloudier.
“What a filthy whore,” He teased, nipping at the shell of your ear and sending a chill down your spine, “disrupts my important meetings just so I’ll pay attention to her needy fuckin’ cunt.”
You swallowed and huffed out a shaky breath, your body becoming far too overwhelmed with the pleasure that robert was giving to you. He dips his head down to watch his cock slam into you, and to see your ass recoil with each hypnotic thrust.
“F-fuck,” you pant again while your legs shake and nearly give out from beneath you. As Robert’s pounding into you, your feet are barely on the ground, he’s holding your hips up and slamming into you like you’re nothing more than a warm hole for him to use.
Robert laughed weakly, he can see every single rational thought slip out of your head as he pounds into you, he’ll never get sick of watching you get cock drunk. You choke out a moan, twitching as your core clenches around him.
“Hm,” Robert hums as he snakes a hand down the front of your body, gently circling your clit with the tip of his middle finger while his member tears into you. “So well behaved once she’s got a cock in her, you like being treated like a dumb little toy, baby?”
The degradation made your stomach burn with an added layer of eroticism, a needy whimper falling from your lips as your pussy got wetter around him. All that could be heard around you was panting and skin slapping skin, mixed in with some filthy little comments.
Robert moaned when he felt you get slicker around him, unintentionally showing him how much you liked this rough and demeaning treatment. You felt the knot in your stomach begin to wind up tighter and tighter and you knew it won’t take much more to push you over.
You try to respond to his comments, only for a few incoherent babbles to come out. Robert only clicks his tongue at your attempts, poorly feigning sympathy.
He holds his hips still, forcing his entire length painfully deep inside you. It’s nearly too much, but addictive fullness of his cock leaves you needing more.
“Look at that,” he cooes, roughly grabbing your cheeks and cranking your neck to get a better look at your face while still rubbing your clit. His dick twitches at your smeared lipstick and smudged mascara, he’s always thought you looked prettier like that anyway. “Ruined by my cock already, poor thing can barely think. ‘S alright, baby, you don’t gotta think. Daddy knows best, right?”
You swallow harshly before whimpering, “y-yes mmh …”followed by a few curses and pants, Robert slowly begins to thrust himself in and out again.
“That’s right, daddy knows you’ve got no thoughts in that pretty head, all you care about is getting this wet little pussy stuffed. Don’t care how, or when, just need to be full, don’t you?”
You nod as best you can while he’s still grabbing your cheeks, his other hand sliding up from your clit back to your hip. He releases his grip on your cheeks and smacks your ass, your brain and body turning into putty all for him. He owns you entirely, mind, body, and soul. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I bet you’d let me use you in front of my colleagues,” Robert hissed, the thought of ruining you in front of his peers brought him closer to his already approaching orgasm. “Bend you over the table, show them what a brainless little cockslut you are. Maybe I’d even let them take turns on you, would you do that for me baby? Let them use whichever holes they’d like?”
You knew this was purely hypothetical, Robert was far too possessive to let anyone else actually touch you. But the idea still got you hot, being passed around like a cheap whore all for Robert’s enjoyment.
“Y-yes, yes!” You cry out as you arch your back again, you and him both know that you’re mere moments away from your orgasm. He laughs thinly, he knew you got off on this but he didn’t know it was to this degree.
“That’s what I love about you, sweetheart. Pretty face ‘n pretty pussy, no fuckin’ brain. How all good girls should be.”
That was all it took, a bit of praise sprinkled in a mix of ignominy. With a broken sob, you came for him, your wetness spilling down onto his balls and undoubtedly staining the expensive material of his trousers. He groans out a few praises while thrusting into you, his own climax trailing close behind.
“Thats it, baby, fuck-“ Robert groans as he tips his head back and screws his eyes shut, your pulsing core just begging him for his come. With a few more pumps, he’s spilling into you, huffing and growling as your velvety walls milk him dry.
Once he starts to go soft, he begins to pull himself out, you wince quietly and Robert shushes you before spreading your lips apart with his fingers. With attentive eyes he watches your ruined hole drool and clench around nothing.
He brings his eyes back up to your face and sees your reaction as he smacks your ass, “next time you pull some shit like that during a meeting, I’m fucking you right then and there, got it?”
Through heavy lids, you smile back at him before nodding weakly, already getting ideas for what you’ll do at his next meeting.
—
sorry this isn’t very long </3 i really reaaaaally want to get back into writing, i think i’m going to write something a bit fluffy/angsty next. we’ll see!
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian x fem!reader#robert fischer#robert fischer x reader#hope y’all like this#:)
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I literally cried so much reading Angel Eyes but it's so beautifully writen i loved it! >.< Please tell me u have some happy scenes from them🥺
The Honeymoon
𓆩♡𓆪 Part of the angel eyes! au but can be read as a stand alone.
𓆩♡𓆪WC: 1.4k
𓆩♡𓆪In my head happy means smutty! lol enjoy
Content Warning: Smut! Honeymoons, fucking making love, jk can't last, oral sex (f! receiving), begging, desperate, dom! jk, making out, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex (newly weds smh), mentions of public sex, reader is a bit bratty (but jk kinda likes it), light teasing.
The moment the two of you return to your suite from your couple's massage you immediately jump face down onto the bed of rose petals that are redone for you and Jungkook every night of your stay at the all-inclusive resort.
Your honeymoon suite was simply stunning. It was your own little bungalow with an ocean-side view of the very private island the hotel was on with your neighbours being more than 50 yards away.
You couldn't believe you went from saving a view like this into your Pinterest board and now you were looking at it first hand, although it couldn't beat the sight of your handsome husband who groaned a sigh of relief as he walked into the room behind you, leaving his crutches against the wall.
Rubbing his neck he praises the service he'd just received, "Goddamn, I think that's the best massage I've ever had--and I've been doing physio for almost a year and a half."
You weren't listening to him.
His skin was absolutely glowing, it must've been the oil they used or maybe Jungkook was just naturally this radiant. Your husband is hot as fuck, you wouldn't put it past him.
"What's that face?" Jungkook looks down at you with an arched brow. Just when you thought he couldn't get any hotter. In his stupid tropical palm-tree-themed button-down that was left open over the white wife beater that hugged his buff chest a little too well.
Your thoughts had gone straight to a sinful place and you were going to make sure to take Jungkook down with you. There's no way he didn't know what he was doing.
It felt like he'd been teasing you all day, from the way he licked the syrup off his fingers at breakfast to the way he moaned softly every so often during the massage.
"Want you to fuck me." You say, on your back, legs spreading on their own accord letting the flimsy material of your sundress give him a brief sight of the black thong that left little to the imagination.
He clears his throat, suddenly fanning his face. You'd never been this bold before. Even with all the sneaky hospital hand jobs and the quickies in storage closets, he'd never seen you get like this before. So... desperate.
"Yeah? What am I supposed to do about that?" His voice was smooth like butter and oozing with confidence. You pout and he just wants to kiss you, "Fine. I'll do it myself." You quip, dropping your hand down between your legs, but before they could even make contact, a strong hand is gripping your wrist.
"What's your problem today? You've been short-tempered all day." He walks towards you, close enough to be standing between your open legs. "Oh, like you don't know." You scoff and suddenly there's a light spank to your outer thigh where your dress had rolled up.
A whorish whine rumbles from your throat, never wanting to admit how much that turned you on. "Be nice." He warns and you roll your eyes, taking a deep breath before your head turns to the side, facing out the window to the beautiful ocean that reflected the setting sun.
"You've been teasing me all day, licking your fingers this morning, then moaning during the massage." Jungkook had to laugh. You were just so cute when you got like this, he could get used to it.
Carefully working you out of your underwear as he spoke, "I had no idea you got so hot and bothered this easily. Is this all it takes?" Bunching up your dress in his hands and pushing it to pool around your stomach as he slowly drops to his knees.
"Let me make it up to you," He purrs, and you can feel the warm air from his lips hit your center sending chills to creep up your spine.
With such little time to react to the feeling of his tongue working skillfully along your wet pussy your hands reached down for his hair, tugging gently. "Oh fuck, that feels so good." Your voice was airy and breathless as your eyes closed, too caught up in the pleasure to keep them open.
Jungkook was a passionate pussy eater, always has been, and always will be. Some guys try to overplay the role of being a 'giver' in bed, thinking it makes them some kind of next-level gentleman who deserves to be praised, but Jungkook was different.
He'd once come untouched just from eating you out and he couldn't look you in the eyes for a good two hours after that.
His soft grunts send a soundwave through your body and add an extra flame into your burning core, flooding with arousal. "Yeah, j-just like that." You moan, grip tightening in his hair and he has to stop his hips from grinding in the air.
His cock was throbbing beneath his shorts and it wanted nothing more than to find solace in the warm walls of your cunt. Meanwhile, he kept himself busy with the brutal pace he'd set with the wet, flat muscle in his mouth.
Flicking your clit rigorously until your moans became higher and more rapid. "Jungkook!-" Your chest began to dampen with sweat as it raised and fell with shallow breaths as you came undone on his tongue, but he refused to pull away until he'd licked up every drop.
Collecting the last of it on his fingers before standing and making lustful eye contact with you, sucking it off his fingers just as you'd imagined he would at breakfast this morning.
With haste, he shimmies out of the rest of his clothes while you toss your dress off to the side and out of mind. Your brain is only able to focus on the swollen head of his cock prodding at your entrance.
"My wife just has the prettiest pussy doesn't she?" The question was rhetorical, but the official title did things to you. It made you want to do bad bad things to him. The kinds of things that could put him back in that wheelchair.
Pushing in slightly then pulling out, the sounds from this action alone left you scatterbrained. "Jungkook. Please!" You begged, pursing your lips with displeasure and he chuckles.
With his arms caging you in at the sides of your head he pushed in, letting his arms leverage him down to drop a wet kiss on your lips, one that you hardly responded to.
Mouth slightly agape as your walls stretched around his girth, "Shit." You curse, "Are you okay? Let me know when I-" Cutting him off with your lips, making a sound of approval that prompted Jungkook to slowly rock his hips forward.
Your cunt sucked in every last inch of him until he bottomed out. "You feel so good, baby." He pants, the strained tone of his words telling you all you need to know.
He wasn't going to last long at all. Jungkook always tried his best to hold out as long as he could when he was with you, and he's sure he would have been able to before the accident but he just couldn't seem to control himself, especially not with you moaning beneath him like this.
"fuck-" He curses, rolling his hips into you with a steady pace. With every thrust your mind goes blank and your nose scrunches. It was a cute habit Jungkook hadn't noticed till recently. The way your nose would scrunch when you were close to your orgasm.
"I'm-" You warn and he grunts, hips rutting into you, deeper, slower.
"Look at me, Y/n." The use of your name was able to have your eyes fluttering to meet his. The eye contact was all too much for you, to look at him while you finished was overstimulating in every sense of the word.
All it took was one glance and you were moaning his name at the top of your lungs and reaching your climax, suddenly thankful that your neighbours were so far away. With one last squeeze of your walls around him, he felt his composure crumble, shooting his hot cum inside you.
Toppling down beside you. The both of you stare up at the ceiling with laboured breaths before turning to face each other.
"What if I just got you pregnant?" You snort, "You just always have something to say don't you?" He smiles, "I'm serious, you never know." Inching towards him, never breaking eye contact, "I think we can handle whatever life throws our way."
After the last year the two of you had gone through, that was most certainly true.
#jungkook smut#jungkook ff#bts jungkook#jungkook fic recs#jeon jungkook#jungkook#bts#bts one shot#jungkook x reader#fluff#jungkook fluff
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If You Call Me (18+)
♡ Pairing: Bad Boy!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader
♡ Genre: heavy angst, fluff, very slice of life at times, strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, college au, slow burn, eventual smut, kind of love at first sight?, basically my take on the ever classic misunderstood bad boy x good girl trope
♡ Word Count: 43.8k
♡ Summary: After spending much of her high school life mercilessly bullied, Y/N hoped that going to college would finally allow her to move on from her past and put the pain behind her. Her hopes are crushed when it becomes apparant that the biggest perpetrator doesn't intend on letting the past stay the past– that is, until she gets unexpectedly rescued by the one person her past bullies seem to fear messing with, and he promises to protect her whenever she calls him.
♡ Warnings: flashbacks to bullying, physical assault, implied sexual assault (nothing is explicitly written, only described vaguely), past / referenced parental death (not described), chan has more than a bit of a savior complex tbh lol, self-worth issues and self-destructive behavior, an abundance of strong language, discussions around depression / being depressed, brief descriptions of blood and injury, theft.
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (baby, angel), implied loss of virginity (reader), as usual for my works there is so much kissing, nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), handjob, multiple orgasms, protected piv (shocking)
♡ Notes: please keep in mind that heavy topics and traumatizing events of various type are a main theme of this fic, so please read with discretion! heed the warnings and don't force yourself to read something you can't handle and won't enjoy! other than that, you can also read the story on my a03 where it is divided into chapters here updated 08/30/24: formatting fixes, slight changes to scenes and dialogue for improved cohesion
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
Isolation, exile, a profound sense of loneliness. Those are the feelings you are used to, the feelings that have permeated your being and seeped into the very foundations of who you are as a person. And you weren't always this way– in fact, you can pinpoint the exact moment in time where a sad, loathful existence became all you knew.
It began a little over 3 years ago, when you started your first day of high school. That first spring semester came upon you quickly, and while you were anxious to begin, there was an almost equal level of excitement. You unfortunately were arriving alone, with your friends from middle school having spread out to various different schools that suited either their families or their own ambitions for their future.
While you would have liked to go to the same prestigious schools as some of your friends, your father simply didn’t have the money to pay for that sort of thing. On top of that, admissions were fiercely competitive, and being intelligent didn’t matter if you weren’t in the top 1% lucky enough to earn yourself a scholarship. You needed to be perfect in every single way to be considered for the honor, and that’s something you simply weren’t, and would never be.
Maybe that was bleak, but you preferred to keep your hopes and expectations grounded in realism. You wouldn’t say that you lacked confidence necessarily– just that you know what is a realistic outcome and what isn’t.
And realistically, what were the chances of a miracle happening? Slim to none. So you tempered your expectations, you kept your hope on a leash, and you continued to have mundane hopes and dreams.
So it wasn’t arriving at your new, average school alone that made you the way you are now; you’d made your peace with that long before it happened. Sure, you would miss the friends you made in your younger years, but high school is supposed to be the place with the most opportunity.
As long as you gave it your best effort, you’d make new friends and new memories. You’d discover what your goals for the future are, you’d work towards them with earnesty and diligence, you’d make your father proud.
At least, that was your mindset going into it; and maybe those thoughts were a bit more optimistic than your usual, but they weren’t unrealistic by any means. All those hopes were tangible and achievable, nothing about them should have been out of reach or unobtainable.
And it wasn’t like you were losing contact with your friends forever– cellphones existed, and it would only be a matter of time before a free weekend arrived for you to meet up with them again. So all in all, you’d felt good. Sure, your circumstances weren’t the most ideal, but you were more than capable of making the best of them.
That’s what you thought at the time, anyways. Despite the perceived realism of your wishes, it quickly became clear to you that life had other intentions for you in the name of Park Jaehyung. A boy in the same class as you, who took a keen interest in you for reasons beyond your understanding.
It started with you noticing that he was often looking at you. You’d look up from your textbook or notes, eyes aimed at the board or your teacher for further instruction, and you’d notice his gaze in your peripheral vision. It didn’t bother you necessarily; you were friendless after all, and you thought maybe he was just trying to figure out if he should approach you.
You knew first hand how shyness or doubts could make a decision you really wanted to make more difficult than it needed to be, and the simple act of approaching a person for friendship could become the most nerve racking experience of your life.
You even considered approaching him first to make it easier on him. There were plenty of times you were able to be the brave friend simply because you wanted to help, moments where all anxieties were trumped by the simple desire to help a friend.
However, he ended up approaching you first in the end, on an otherwise uneventful Friday. Most of your classmates left quickly, eager to get a start on their weekends or meetup with fellow club members for practice for their upcoming events.
You were nervous as he approached but not necessarily in a negative way; at the time, you had no reason to believe he had any bad intentions with you. In fact, you were excited at the prospect of finally making a friend in your new environment after weeks of being awkward around everyone.
You were so ignorantly optimistic.
When you finished tucking your things away and lifted your head to look at Jaehyung, you met him with a smile. The conversation was pleasant at first, albeit a bit mundane. Simple small talk such as “how did you do on the test,” “how do you like the school,” and things of that nature.
You don’t remember how long you two talked like that, but what you do remember is the shift in atmosphere when his friends came into the room looking for him.
“What are you still doing in here, Jae? We’ve– Oh?” you remember one of his friends saying as he stepped into the room, pausing his sentence when he noticed the two of you stood at your desk talking.
The shift in Jaehyung’s expression was shockingly instant, the positivity of the boy in front of you quickly warping into an animosity that you could hardly comprehend. The friend, who you recognized as a boy who sat in the back of the classroom, let out a laugh as he stood in the doorway.
“I knew it! You do like her,” the boy chuckled with a smug expression. Jaehyung scowled as he turned away to face his friend's direction. “I told you, I don’t. I was just telling her to stay away from me,” he spits at his friend, “She’s obsessed with me.”
You were stunned, blood running cold as you looked at him in bewilderment. You just spent the last several minutes talking pleasantly and laughing, and now he’s lying about it right in front of you? So blatantly? Why?
Before you could even open your mouth to defend yourself, his friend laughed loudly. “I told you, you need to stop playing with the easy ones. They get way too attached, man.” He’d said as Jaehyung stepped away from you quickly, making his way to the door with haste.
You simply watched, the words playing in a loop in your brain. Jaehyung took one last glance at you before the pair of them exited the room, leaving you by yourself with your thoughts running a mile a minute. Easy? Easy how? Because you were alone all the time? Because you’re shy?
You didn’t really understand why his friend said that, or why Jae’s attitude changed so quickly. Naively, you started to think that maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, and you could clear it up on Monday when you saw him again. It was unlikely, but the shift in tone was so sudden that you really had nothing else to grasp onto to make sense of it.
But Monday came, and it was immediately clear to you that the pleasant Jaehyung you’d known for a short time was entirely fake. He’d approach you with venom, antagonize you any chance he got, his friends always cackling in the background. He’d call you names and push you around, a sick enjoyment clear on his face every time.
You’d wondered if this was his intention all along; to make you like him, to spend time with you because you were vulnerable before he’d turn it all around on you and embarrass you. His friend walking in on you in the classroom probably just sped things up a bit, and made him lose the need to build trust with you first.
Some days you’d be lucky, able to avoid them by bolting out of the room the minute the bell rang. Of course there were still times they caught up to you or got you into a corner, but for the most part, the strategy had worked.
Eventually though, that method became nearly impossible as they got used to the trick and found ways to get you in a corner consistently. You only ever managed to catch a break on days that they needed to stay behind for detention or to be disciplined by the staff.
You hoped, you prayed, harder than you ever had for anything, that one day they would grow tired of tormenting you and just leave you alone. That staff would actually help you instead of turning a blind eye, only intervening when the boys’ actions inconvenienced their ability to work. You prayed they’d get suspended, expelled even– an unrealistic hope you knew would never come true, as little of a priority to the school’s staff as you were.
But hope was all you had then. In those incredibly dark days, where your life was the hardest it had ever been, you’d started to see the appeal of having outlandish dreams. It was comforting to imagine a world where everything about your life was perfect, where you'd easily obtained your goals and led the life you had always dreamed of, free of hurt and sadness.
There was no comfort in being a realist, no solace in the tangible. And you were tired. Not the physical kind of tired that came with a hard day's work, but mentally.
You were exhausted from the constant abuse, the unending loneliness, the hopelessness that was laid out so plainly in front of you. And so you would hope; hope for a better day, an easier existence, a friend.
You hoped that you’d be a braver person than you were the day before, hoped that one day the school would finally take action, hoped that one day Jae would get bored of you and finally leave you alone. You knew painfully well how improbable it was, but it was all you had.
All of it was out of your control, no matter what you did or how hard you prayed; it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t change, but even still you couldn’t let go of that hope. It was around that time however, that you realized there was something you could control– your academic scores. If you just devoted yourself to studying, to doing well on tests and keeping up your GPA, you could get yourself into a good school and put all this behind you.
You didn’t get into as good of a school as you would have liked, the strain that Jaehyung’s bullying put on your brain made studying a herculean effort, but you managed to do well enough to get accepted into a decent college just outside the city. It was enough- as long as you stuck to campus, you’d likely never see Jae again. He’d stay in the city, doing god knows what, and you’d get the fresh start you desperately needed, away from the person that made you miserable.
It's been 6 months since you moved into the campus dorms and began attending classes. Your roommates already knew each other, having been childhood friends who promised to go to the same school, but they never made you feel left out or like an outsider in your shared dorm room. They were kind, funny, and outgoing, and it would be no exaggeration to say they adopted you, bringing you out of your shell bit by bit and helping you return to the person you used to be.
There’s still pain, sadness, and loneliness, of course. Those feelings don’t just go away, but for the first time in years you began to feel.. Happy. Like things were finally going your way.
You could breathe without needing to constantly look over your shoulder, or be perpetually afraid of when a moment of happiness would inevitably crumble. You could finally live. The universe seemed to want to have a laugh at your expense, however– because what would be more ironic and tragic than bringing you back to the person you hate most.
You’d never been to a party– not entirely by choice, but because the opportunity had never come your way, solitary and friendless as you were. And now that you were in college, where the surroundings are rife with parties and carefree nights, it just felt.. Unnatural for you to be involved.
Like you were trying to blend where you didn’t belong, and that everyone would see through you. They would recognize you for what you were all through high school; a girl desperate for friends that no one ultimately cared about.
But your roommates, the social butterflies that they were, insisted that you come with them after excitedly telling you of the invite they received. You protested at first, feeling like you'd be much too awkward and out of place in the situation to have any fun, but they were tireless in their efforts to convince you to go with them.
And really, you couldn't blame them for trying so hard– you'd told them about your desire to branch out, to make more friends and experience new things, and a party was arguably one of the best places to do that. So you conceded in the end, letting them help you plan your outfit and be your guides through what was supposed to be a fun, new experience.
And it was fun– for a time. Your friends helped you come out of your shell the most you’d ever had, introducing you to other people they knew either from their classes or from the clubs they were part of. You felt included, like you were finally part of a group, like you no longer had to be the person who watched from afar while others mingled and laughed together.
It’s almost funny how that feeling of belonging and joy you finally felt came crashing down on you in an instant. You didn’t see him at first, and if you had, you definitely wouldn’t have separated yourself from your friends. You were supposed to be gone just a moment, a quick run to the bathroom and refresh of your drink before you’d rejoin them.
But there Jae was, standing near the stairs that led up to the bathroom, chatting with the same group of friends he’d had in high school. Your mind reeled, blood chilling as your eyes settled on him for the first time since graduation. You stood frozen for a moment, body being bumped by those trying to dance or move past you as the music continued to blare.
You suddenly became conscious of every little thing– the volume of the music in your ears, the amount of people standing between you and him, how the hairs on your neck and arm began to stand on end. You could feel the way your palms clammed up as you closed your fingers into a fist, and the thumping of your heart became loud and erratic, to the point it began to drown out everything else.
You tried to rationalize with yourself, to calm your screaming nerves and bring your racing heart under your control. He hadn’t noticed you, and if you were lucky, and quick, he wouldn’t at all. Besides, you weren’t the same person you were in high school. You had friends now, a new home and a new life. He couldn’t torment you anymore– you wouldn’t let him.
You take a breath, steeling yourself to walk past the man who brought you so much misery, and hope for the best. Your legs felt like lead, each step taking excruciating effort to complete. You try to keep your head down, letting your hair fall over your face to hide your recognizable features as much as possible.
You look up as you reach the steps, realizing that you’re unconsciously holding your breath as you do. Your eyes meet– not Jae’s, but his friends. And you can tell by the way he laughs, one of disbelief as much as it is amusement, that he recognizes you easily. “What?” you hear Jae question as he turns his head to see what his friend is reacting to, his eyes landing squarely on you.
Dread is the only word that can be used to describe what you feel when his eyes meet yours. Your reaction is immediate, panic settling in as you rush past them, and dart up the stairs. You just had to make it to the bathroom, and then everything would be fine. And you do, closing the door shut quickly behind you and locking it with a loud click.
You take a moment to breathe, to think with clarity now that you were within the safe space of a closed, locked room. You’re not proud of the visceral reaction seeing Jae gave you, the way you ran as soon as soon as his gaze locked on you.
You wonder how you looked to the others settled around the steps– hopefully, just like a drunk girl in desperate need for the bathroom, instead of a dreadfully panicked one. Regardless, your dash up the steps was certainly unceremonious and embarrassing, and you hate the thought that it gave Jae or any of his friends a laugh.
You let out a sigh, pulling out your phone to text your friends, hoping they’re not too drunk or that the music is too loud for them to hear their phones. You do your business, wash your hands, check your appearance in the mirror. You check your phone, and then check it again, and then once more, but no response from your friends ever comes through.
You sigh, knowing you can’t camp out in the bathroom much longer than you have already. There are loads of people here, and someone’s going to need it sooner or later. And besides, he surely wouldn’t still target you now that you were all grown adults, right?
It’s likely he didn’t even follow after you, and is just laughing that even now you’re still afraid of him. You moved on, and surely he has to– you can’t let your fear of him control you the way it did when you were in school together.
With another breath to calm your nerves, you unlock and open the door, and see that a small line did in fact start to build in front of the bathroom door while you were holed up inside of it. You offer an apology to the people waiting as you move past to allow the first person in, making your way quickly back towards the steps in the hopes that Jae is either no longer in that area, or has no interest in you anymore, and that you can return to where your friends are without issue.
But of course, he’s there, standing at the top of the steps, very clearly waiting for you. Your heart sinks to your stomach, the smile that spreads on his face making you sick. “Long time no see, huh?” he says as he takes a step closer to you, his light, airy voice a stark contrast to the intentions you know he has. You don’t respond, which he takes as his sign to continue. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Don’t you want to catch up?”
“I need to get back to my friends,” you say, finally finding your voice after the initial shock. It’s not as strong as you’d like, but considering you’ve never stood up for yourself before now, it’s enough to show how much you’ve changed since he last saw you.
“Oh, you have friends now? That’s interesting,” he responds easily, taking what little pride for yourself you fostered and crushing it beneath his heel. Before you realize it, your back is pressed against the nearest door, Jae closing the distance between you with proficient ease.
Your breath catches in your throat, eyes darting to the side where the line for the bathroom remains unchanged. If you made a scene, would they help you? You honestly weren’t sure; they were all strangers to you, with varying levels of intoxication affecting them, and from their perspective, you and Jae could easily appear to be a couple sharing an intimate moment before trying to sneak away to a room. The thought alone makes your stomach churn.
“Oh don’t worry about them, they won’t interrupt,” Jae says, that same sickeningly smug smile on his face as he seemingly has the same thought you just had. You know what comes next- his hands on you, a contact you loathe above all else, that makes your skin scream and recoil.
Things were supposed to be different now. You weren’t supposed to ever see him again, but maybe you were a fool for believing that you created enough distance from him for that to be the case. But you didn’t come this far to be the same person you were then- you were supposed to be different, to be strong.
You want to be strong, to have the courage to stand up for yourself and tell him to go fuck himself. If you don’t act now, then what was it all for? You can’t let yourself go back to the meek person who just accepted it whenever she was hurt. You clench your fists, you gather your courage, and for the first time ever, you raise your voice to him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
He doesn’t take you seriously in the slightest, laughing as if your words mean nothing as he reaches his hand out to touch you. In a moment of unparalleled bravery on your part, you slap it away, conveying clearly that you won’t allow him to torment you anymore. There’s surprise in his eyes for a moment, though it fades as quickly as it appeared, replaced by seething anger.
He wraps your hair in his fist, holding your head back with so much force that a searing ache spreads over your scalp. “You wanna try that again? I don't think you're thinking clearly." Jaehyung's voice is dark and threatening as he holds your head in place.
So now he’s taking you seriously, huh? You glare at him, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as your fists tremble, 3 years worth of contempt rising forth all at once, practically begging to be set free, to be unleashed on the awful man before you who made your life a living hell.
You were still scared of him, if you were being honest with yourself, but you had to be different. You had to. He was much stronger, his grip on you was painful, but if you gave up now, then what was it all for? Your perseverance had to mean something, it had to lead you to somewhere better, to help you become someone you were proud to be. You can’t let it be meaningless.
You’re about to open your mouth to scream, determined to make a scene that can’t go ignored by anyone in the vicinity, when a voice you don’t recognize calls to Jaehyung, taking you both by surprise. “What the fuck are you doing?” the unfamiliar voice call from the direction of the stairs, and you’re able to turn your head just enough to see someone standing at the top of them, arms crossed with an incredulous look on his face.
“Shit,” you hear Jaehyung mutter under his breath when he turns his gaze away from you, looking at the man who is (thankfully) interrupting the moment. “What are you doing here?” Jae asks as he slowly loosens his grip on your hair, his teeth clenching as he begrudgingly releases you from his grasp.
“Don’t tell me you came to this party not knowing you’re in my fucking house. That’s my room you’re blocking, so move,” the man says, voice stern and unflinching. Jaehyung’s expression in response is strange– he’s very clearly annoyed, angry, but there’s something else there too that you’ve never seen on him.
He’s… intimidated? “Oh c'mon, man. You don’t mind letting an old friend borrow your room, right?” Jae’s voice turns jovial, a vain attempt at familiarity and friendliness. The stranger’s expression changes, a scoff leaving his lips as he looks at Jae in disbelief.
The man looks at you next, observing your body language and quickly processing what it tells him. You’re very clearly distressed, body trembling, eyes angry and glossy with unshed tears; you want out of this, and now.
“Doesn’t seem to me that she’s into you,” the stranger says matter-of-factly, stating the truth of the matter as he sees it. “And you’re insane if you think I’m letting you use my room for this shit– or anyone’s for that matter.”
“She’s just shy, isn’t that right? You’re not used to us being interrupted?” Jae says it with a sickly sweet smile before he turns his gaze back to you, leaning closer as his next words leave him in a whisper intended for only you to hear, a not so thinly veiled threat for you to play along with him, “I’m not done with you yet.”
If it were the you of half a year ago, you probably would have buckled under the pressure, yielded to whatever it was he wanted from you. You would’ve been too afraid of the repercussions that would follow if you didn’t, afraid of what worse action he’d have in store for you if you didn’t listen to his commands.
And that’s what Jae wants– he wants to put that fear back inside you, to remind you of all that he made you feel, all that he caused you to lose, to turn you back into the person he knew and expected you to be.
You refuse to give him the satisfaction. “Get the fuck away from me,” you say, doing your best to make your voice as steady as you can possibly make it. You can feel the rage radiating off him, and you have to admit, it’s extremely gratifying to watch him struggle, to see him flounder after being challenged.
He storms off, anger and bitterness seeping off him, as the man who saved you steps aside to let him pass– though Jae still manages to shoulder checks the stranger angrily on his way out. A sigh of relief leaves you once your tormentor is out of sight, thankful for the ordeal to finally be over.
“Are you alright?” the stranger who evidentially lives here asks as he takes a tentative step closer to you, clearly not wanting to make you feel boxed in and cornered the way Jaehyung had.
“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you,” you say as you separate yourself from what you remember is apparentally his bedroom door, fixing your clothes in the places that Jae caused it to crumple.
When you look up, you see that he is looking you over for any noticeable injury– whoever he is, it’s apparent he knows who Jaehyung is and how he does things. It also makes you curious about how they know each other, and what it is about him that made Jae leave without putting up a real fight.
He has dark curly hair that pairs well with his piercing gaze, but you didn't find him particularly frightening based on appearance alone. In fact, you actually thought he'd look sweet if he wasn't frowning so hard right now.
He did seem quite athletic though, and you could see how bulky his arms were underneath the sleeves of his black tee. Maybe it was the difference in strength that deterred him? Jae is stronger than you, sure, but he wasn’t as built as the stranger who saved you.
Or maybe Jae is simply all bark, and no bite? That’d be ironic– your biggest tormentor being someone who is inherently a coward. But isn’t that how it usually goes? The weak preying on the weaker for the sake of gratification and a sense of superiority they wouldn’t otherwise obtain.
And who better to play that role for him than you? You, who was lonely and eager to make a friend, who was too timid and kind for her own good, and without the inner strength to fight back.
“You’re welcome to join me in my room, if you want. Uhm, not in like, a weird way or anything– just to make sure Jae will leave you alone if he's still around. We’ll leave the door open so you’re comfortable and– uh, yeah.” You can’t help but smile a little following his suggestion– it’s a little awkward, but well intentioned, and you appreciate the attempt he’s making to comfort you following a tense interaction.
You follow him inside, and true to his word, he makes no move to close the door behind you, leaving it wide open and looking out into the adjacent hallway. Looking around, you notice that his room is more.. Minimalistic than you would’ve expected from a college aged guy. A decently sized bed, a bookshelf that contained more empty space than anything, a desk that held only a laptop and a rather old looking stuffed wolf toy that you assumed was from his childhood.
There was no clutter, no mess, no decoration– nothing that tells you a guy in his early 20s occupies the space. Apart from the led lights circling the ceiling, the walls are bare, with no pictures or posters to give insight into his interests or personality. “You can sit wherever,” he says, intending to let you have first pick for comfort’s sake.
You decide to sit at his desk, concluding that it's the better of your two options, and he flops on his bed, eyes on the ceiling as a slight sigh leaves his lips. “Regretting throwing a party?” you ask, noticing how exhausted he seems to be– dark circles under his eyes serving as a clear sign that something in his life is causing him fatigue and lack of sleep.
“It’s not my party, it’s my brothers. The whole party thing isn’t really for me, but he wants the “whole college experience” or whatever, so, you know.. Yeah,” he closes his eyes for a moment as he speaks, seeming to think about what he wants to say before he continues to speak. “He won't have time for things like this once the fall semester starts, so why not let him have his fun until then? That’s what I think, anyways.”
You nod, silently wondering if his brother is anyone you met downstairs, though you don’t recall meeting anyone that looks similar to him. “Do you both go to school here?” you ask, thinking it’d be nice if they do– you could do with some more friends in your life, especially ones that go to the same campus you do.
“Oh, no, I–” he hesitates a moment, an almost indiscernible look on his face as he slightly tenses, just enough for you to gather that this topic is a bit tense for him. “I dropped out. Of high school, I mean. The whole school thing doesn’t suit me– got enough bills to pay and things to take care of without that added expense and worry, you know?”
You get it– you honestly do. Dropping out is a hard decision to make, one that society doesn’t understand comes with great personal grief and difficulty. Most people who drop out don’t do it because they want to, but because they have to, or feel there’s no other choice in the face of whatever it is they’re dealing with.
There was even a time you considered it; when your bullying was at its worst, and before you found solace in pouring all your energy into studying. “I completely understand; I almost dropped out too. And I wouldn’t even be going to school now if it wasn’t for my scholarship.”
“Really?” he sits up now, surprise written on his face as he looks at you. “Yeah, I– ..didn’t have the best high school experience,” you sigh, hesitating to meet his gaze right away. He’s a stranger to you, you don’t know what happened to him, and he doesn’t know what happened to you, but there’s a strange sort.. Connection you feel?
Like kindred spirits– two souls who lived different lives, who are on a different path, but somehow are still the same. You look at him again, realizing you don’t feel the need to hesitate or hold back your words. There’s something about him that seems trustworthy, and the sincere empathy in his eyes makes you believe that he’s someone you can confide in without regrets.
“I was depressed, alone. I had no friends, and I don’t mean it felt that way, I literally didn’t have anyone. And Jaehyung, he– well, you saw. It was like that every single day, unrelenting. Studying was the only thing I had to escape my thoughts and feelings, so I poured everything I had into my grades. I started to view college as an escape– like if I got accepted, all my problems would be solved. I could start over, be a different person,” you swallow, emotions threatening to choke you up as you talk about your experience, but you continue on despite it.
“Unfortunately, schools are competitive, and recruiters could easily see that despite having good enough grades, I didn’t have the confidence or social standing to back myself up, so they chose other people. But the school here accepted me, and even though it’s still close to where I grew up I hoped it would be enough. I could meet new people, get away from everything that brought me down, and become the person I always wanted to be. And I have– you know, for the most part anyways.”
There’s a silence that lingers for a moment, one that makes you start to feel stupid for deciding to unload all that information on someone you just met, but when you meet his eyes again you no longer feel shame. As before, there is a sincere empathy, an understanding, a care, that you’d never experienced before now.
You never talked about Jae to anyone new you met, and even your friends only know about him in the vaguest of terms because it was so hard to relive and talk about openly. But the person you met today– he saw it, in its rawest, unfiltered form, and he cared. Genuinely cared. And when you think back to all the times someone saw what was happening and ignored it, knew you were suffering and didn’t think twice about it, that care matters.
He looks contemplative as well; like he’s thinking carefully on his words, and what impact they’ll have, as if formatting the perfect response to your admission is of crucial importance to him. And in a way, it is, because even though he’s just met you, he sees you for who you are– someone like him. Damaged. Lonely. Yearning for a connection that doesn’t yet exist, but could if you found the right person.
He opens his mouth to speak, the words he wants to say on the tip of his tongue, but is quickly interrupted and drowned out by your phone suddenly ringing. You pull it out of your pocket quickly, and see your friend's name and photo brightly illuminated on the screen.
“Y/N? I’m so sorry, I just saw your text! Are you still upstairs? I’ll come get you–” your friend comes through loud and urgent, doing her best to be heard over the loud music that surrounds her downstairs.
“I’m fine, I promise! Where are you right now? I’ll meet you,” you assure her as you stand up from your seat, preparing yourself to leave the room. The conversation ends quickly, with you confirming with each other that you’ll meet at the base of the stairs and then head home together.
“I’ll get going now, my friends are waiting for me, but.. before I go I just wanna say thank you for tonight, uhm..” your sentence trails off as a realization hits you. Right. You still don’t know his name yet. Thankfully, he seems to know where you’re going, and offers his name to you before you have to ask. “Chan,” he says simply, “I’m Bang Chan.”
You smile as you repeat his name, offering your own afterwards to which he acknowledges with a nod. You make it to the door before you stop, turning back to look at him one last time before you go. “I’ll see you around..?” you ask, hoping you don't come across as too desperate to meet him again.
“Mm, yeah, sure,” Chan replies nonchalantly, though the corners of his mouth raise in the hint of a smile. And though it’s only a slight display, it makes you smile back at him. Because even though he comes across as aloof and reserved, you've gotten the impression that he's a nice person underneath his layers.
You found yourself thinking a lot about him when you were in bed that night; wondering about who he is beyond what you initially see, about what makes him who he is and drives what he does. Someone who is clearly empathetic beneath their rough exterior, who has compassion even for those he doesn't know, someone you want to befriend. You hoped you'd meet and talk to him again soon.
You sigh as you approach Sunshine Cafe, your go-to stop for coffee and a sweet breakfast before beginning your day in earnest. The fall semester has spared you no mercy since it began weeks ago, with your new professors hitting you with an increasingly grueling workload and frustratingly tight deadlines.
You’ve barely had time for anything, and your daily coffee is truly the only thing getting you through the immense amount of homework and academic papers that’ve been dropped into your lap. It also occurred to you that you greatly overestimated your ability to run into Chan again.
You thought it’d only be a matter of time, at first. Though he doesn’t attend the local college like you and his brother do, he still has a house near campus, and even if meeting at another party was unlikely, there were still plenty of places you could end up seeing one another. And yet, either due to the amount of work that needed done keeping you home, or Chan himself also having a busy schedule, that time never came.
Should you have just asked for his number before you left? It’s something you’d think about since that night, wondering if that would’ve been too forward or made him uncomfortable, because who knows if he wanted to be your friend as much as you wanted to be his. There was a lot you liked about Chan following your first interaction with him, but was there anything he liked about you?
It was hard to say; you certainly hoped so, but you weren’t exactly confident in your ability to make connections with people. Apart from that, a search of his name online didn’t lead to any social media platforms you could add or follow him on.
A bit strange for someone his age to be completely void of a social media presence you might think, but he didn’t really seem the type to spend his days scrolling instagram or writing personal posts on twitter in the first place.
And honestly, wasn’t it silly to be so stuck on someone you’d met and talked to so briefly? You were broaching pathetic territory if you were being honest with yourself, but you truly couldn’t help it. There was something different about him, and not in that corny love at first sight way your friends might assume if you brought the issue up to them. You could see it in the way he interacted with you and listened to you.
The more you thought about it though, the more embarrassed you felt about it; why did you unload your deepest feelings on a stranger? Because having a little bit of alchol in your system made you uninhibited enough to feel the need to bare your entire heart? Because he was nice to you?
That’s so pitiful, you’d laugh at yourself if it wasn’t so depressing. Even if you did run into him again, it’d probably be best to avoid his gaze, and save yourself from the realization that he actually thought you were a fucking weirdo, and only listened to you to be polite.
God, you were spiraling– one minute thinking it’d be best if he never saw you again, and the next praying he’d show up in your life regardless, even if just for a moment. But really, you just wanted to know– know for sure if you just imagined the way he cared to make yourself better, or if what you felt then was real. And if it was real, why?
No one ever protected you before, and it was hard for you to imagine a world where someone would do that for you purely out of the kindness of their heart. You know selfless, compassionate people exist, but not for you.
Even with the friends you had now, you’d hesitate to believe that they’d do anything for you beyond the surface level of friendship. And that was no fault of their own, of course; you knew it was a response to your own trauma that led you to think that way. But now that you were met with the evidence that someone could be kind to you purely for the sake of it, you struggled to grapple with it.
You could argue that your friends are nice to you purely because you’re also assigned roommates, and you needed to have a good relationship for your home life to be copasetic. They introduced you to the people in their life because living in their space meant you’d be around them as well, and by extension they were only nice to you because they needed to be. But Chan– what reason did he have to do anything for you? To listen to you or offer kindness?
He wasn’t the first person to show you kindness after you came here, but he was the first to do so with seemingly no explanation behind it. To be kind and help you just because it was what was right, and for no reason other than that– that’s what made him different, and made you want to see him again, to get to know him.
Another sigh leaves your lips now as you stand in line, waiting to order. You really need to stop dwelling on it and focus on more critical things at hand, i.e your paper that's due tonight and still needs to be proofread.
Yes, it’s best to do what you’re used to doing, and pour all your frustrations and worries into getting yourself the best grades you possibly can. You’ll head back to your dorm as soon as your coffee is in hand, and spend the rest of your morning (and a good portion of your afternoon) into ensuring that your paper is as perfect as it can be.
Felix, the blonde, freckled barista who has come to memorize your order, smiles sweetly as soon as he sees you. “Here’s your usual,” he says as he hands it over to you the moment you reach the counter; benefits to being a regular, and a creature of habit, you suppose– he always has your order ready for you by the time you make it to the front of the line. “Thanks, I really need it today,” you reply as you put your card in the reader to pay.
“Professor still kicking your ass?” he asks as he confirms the payment on his screen, letting you take your card out swiftly and fit it back into your wallet. “Pretty much,” you answer, though it’s not entirely true anymore; the amount of work you need to complete is definitely a major stressor, but it’s your brain’s fixation on Chan, and your subsequent worry about how you were perceived by him that plague yours thoughts and makes finishing your work much harder than it needs to be. Felix doesn’t need to hear about any of that, though.
You thank him for serving you before you step away to allow the line to continue to flow, and he wishes you luck with the rest of your day before he greets his next customer. You scarf down your doughnut before you step outside to leave the building, the crisp fall air instantly helping to bring your mind back to a place of normalcy. A few small sips of your drink, a tossing of your trash in the public bin, and you’re ready to make your way back to your room to tackle the behemoth of a paper you wrote that needs reviewing.
You make it only a few steps before you’re stopped by a voice you dread hearing saying your name from behind you, one that the universe seems to love to remind you that you can’t run away from. “I’ve been looking for you,” he smiles as he steps in front of you, cutting off your path and making you stop walking.
The blood in your veins feels ice cold, the alarms in your brain deafeningly loud. Fuck. How did Jae find you here?
Stumbling upon each other at a random party, as unpleasant and unfortunate as it was, was at least feasible. College parties weren’t limited to the host’s affiliation; word of mouth took campus parties to new heights, their friends invite their friends who then invite theirs, turning what one might intend to be a simple get together between close friends and roommates into something much larger than the host ever intended.
Yes, as much as you hated it when you ran into him, the party setting you were brought into made the most logistical sense. But here? At a small off-campus coffee shop at 9am? What the fuck was he doing here?
Surely if this was a place he frequented you wouldn’t have gone so many months without coming across one another. Which leaves you to think only one thing, that you desperately hope isn’t true- he sought you out on purpose.
“I don’t want to see you,” you say, voice as stern as you can possibly make it despite the way your nerves threaten to eat you alive. You’re doing your best not to panic, reasoning with yourself that things on your side in the situation; you’re in a public space, on a fairly active street with plenty of witnesses, and lots of options for safety. As long as you don’t freeze up or mentally shut down, you’ll be okay.
You take a step in an attempt to walk past him, but of course, he doesn’t want to allow you to leave so easily. “C’mon, don’t be like that,” he says in a tone that’s supposed to portray himself as innocently pleading for your time, but his smirk deceives his intentions. You opt to ignore him, shifting to the side to once again make your way past him.
He reaches out to grab your arm, instantly stopping you in your tracks. “Let go of me!” you protest, trying to pull yourself out of his grasp, but to no avail. Your eyes scan the area, seeking a way to get yourself out of this situation as quickly as possible. As if sensing this, Jae pulls you towards the nearby shop alley, dragging you into it with him.
Your coffee falls to the ground in the struggle, splashing your legs and drenching the soles of your shoes. Your eyes water, race burning red as a wave of emotions washes over you– shame, anger, misery, all of which make him laugh.
“It’s a shame we were interrupted last time, isn’t it? And you don’t have your guard dog here to protect you, how sad,” he taunts, infinitely condescending in the way he speaks to you, “Go ahead and cry, he’s not gonna save you this time.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, trying your hardest to suppress the rising panic. You need to will yourself to move, to be loud, to make it impossible for him to take advantage of you any further. You take a breath and open your eyes, surprised to see someone standing directly behind Jae– Chan.
He’s yanked away from you in a sudden motion as a hand grabs his shoulder, stumbling backwards and landing awkwardly on his right foot, clutching you tighter in his hand to try and steady himself. “Wha– who the fuck?”
“Fuck off. Don’t make me teach you a lesson again,” Chan’s voice is low as he grabs Jae by the wrist and twists it, causing him to grit his teeth and finally release you from his grasp. Jae scowls as Chan’s grip on his wrist loosens, curses and insults quickly being muttered under his breath as he shoots you both furious looks.
“You heard me. Go,” Chan says, eyebrow raised with a look that says ‘test me and you’ll regret it.’ Begrudgingly, he retreats while calling you both less than kind names and rubbing his wrist. Chan hears them of course, but making sure you’re okay is more of a priority than fixing Jae’s loose mouth.
“You alright..?” he asks, looking you over for injury as he did the first time he stopped Jae from harming you. You stayed silent however, your brain struggling to process the fact that Chan is here and helped you again– and he eventually frowns. Jae may be a fucking imbecile, but he was smart when he wanted to be; he didn’t hurt you enough to leave any marks– at least not anywhere Chan could see clearly.
On top of that, you still hadn’t responded yet, and he wasn’t entirely sure when your altercation even began; it was pure coincidence that he turned the corner to reach Sunshine Cafe and saw you being pulled away to the adjacent alley.
But he heard what he said as he approached; “guard dog,” Jae called him. Yeah, that’s exactly what he’ll be if Jae refuses to leave you alone– your personal guard dog, ready to attack as needed.
He cautiously taps your shoulder, his eyebrows knitting together in a clear sign of concern, “Hey… you okay..?” You nod, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat. You were in shock more than anything, you think. Jae tormented you for years, and you’d grown used to it over the years. Hair pulling, tripping, slapping, dumping water on you.. Things that though you hated, you were used to and came to expect.
But now? Now that you’d left that behind, began to live your life with a sense of fulfillment and joy, were away from all that once dragged you to the depths of despair.. You realized how much those things still hurt, how the time and distance didn’t cure or absolve you of your pain.
And you hated that he found you, hated that his presence still had an effect on you, hated how easy it was for him to reverse all of the positive progress you made. Most of all, you just hated Jae– truly, deeply hated him.
You could tell you were shaking, felt the tears in the corners of your eyes threatening to fall, embarrassed by the fact that Chan once again has to see you at your lowest when you’ve just barely formed a friendship. It’s humiliating in a way that’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t felt it themselves– the shame that comes with feeling inadequate, in looking weak in the face of someone you don’t want to see you that way.
Chan looks down, seeing what he assumes is the remnants of your fresh coffee spilled on the concrete, whipped cream and caramel splattered in all directions from the impact they made with the ground. He kneels down, grabbing the plastic cup and turning it to the front, confirming what he already suspected; your name, written in big, black letters with a sharpie, followed by a sticker with the specifics of your order.
He looks back at you as he stands back up, still holding your cup in his hands despite how sticky it’s become from splashed coffee. “Hey, look.. I’m sorry– Jae was pissed that I helped you last time, right? It's my fault, so why don’t I buy you a new coffee?”
“Huh?" you blink, surprised by his offer; once again, he's helping you when he has no reason to, and trying to process it makes your brain lag. "Oh– you don’t have to do that! It’s not your fault at all, he’s always treated me that way. He probably would’ve done this again even if you hadn’t helped the first time,” you respond after a moment, not yet meeting his gaze.
Chan frowns at your answer; he knows Jae well enough to know that’s true, but it doesn’t piss him off any less. He’s always been like that– a coward in wolf’s clothing, always preying on whoever wants and thinking he can get away with it. “Unlock your phone and hand it to me,” he says, holding his hand out to you expectantly.
You furrow your brows in confusion, but do as he asks regardless, fishing through your pocket and quickly putting in your password before passing it to him. Chan locates your contacts page easily, adding his number to the relatively short list. “Call me next time,” he says as he hands it back to you.
You stare at your phone for a few moments, processing the information slowly before you look up at him. “You.. I can call you?” “Of course.” His response is nonchalant in tone, but you can tell he’s being genuine, just as before.
You don’t understand why he’s consistently so kind to you, someone who is effectively a stranger, who he has no reason to look out or care for. Stopping a bad situation he came across once made enough sense, especially since it was happening in his own house, but to devote himself to regularly helping you was completely different. Was he really that selfless?
“What if you don’t answer..?” you finally ask, still struggling to make sense of his kindness towards you. “I’ll answer,” he replies easily, as if that’s the only option there is. “What if Jae takes my phone? Or I can’t reach it?” you continue, because surely he can’t be serious.
Why would he do that for you? Chan’s expression shifts to one you can’t read, full of thoughts and emotions you couldn’t possibly read before he speaks again, “Yell if you have to. If you call, I’ll hear it. I’ll come running as soon as I can.”
You tear up for the second time today, though this time for a reason completely different from before; you’re grateful to have someone who wants to be there for you unconditionally. After suffering for so long, you began to believe that you were beyond selfless kindness, that it was something you would never experience or have offered to you. And in your current state, it seems that even the smallest ounce of it is enough to make you emotional.
“H-Hey, don’t cry!” Chan’s voice is suddenly filled with worry, a stark contrast to the aloof tone he seems to typically have. And really, he isn’t sure what to do– he’s never had to comfort a girl who was crying before.
You wipe your face, trying your best to calm down quickly and offer him an appreciative smile. “Sorry, this is actually super embarrassing..” you awkwardly laugh as you rub your eyes dry, hoping that he won’t change his mind and decide you’re not worth it.
“No, it’s okay.. You’ve been through a lot on your own,” his tone softens, clearly trying to relay sympathy for you. You nod, steadying yourself with a deep breath before you finally look at him directly, without embarrassment or shame for your feelings. “Thank you, Chan.”
“Of course,” he says, giving you a small pat on the head in the same way he used to do to comfort his brothers when they were upset. “Let’s get you a new coffee, yeah?”
You nod again, deciding to take him up on his offer and let him buy you a new coffee. “Just stick close to me, okay?” Chan reaches his free hand out to you, offering for you to take it if you’d like to. And you do, deciding to ignore the way your heart picks back up in speed when your hand is in his.
You know there’s no romantic intent, but that doesn’t stop the butterflies from erupting in your stomach at the contact. You can tell he’s just a sweet person, that there’s nothing special about this interaction, that he’d likely do this for anyone in a similar situation to you, but regardless of your rational thoughts, you can’t calm your heart, or prevent it from skipping a beat when he gives it a reassuring squeeze before leading you out of the alley.
It doesn’t take more than a few moments to reach the cafe again, the line having drastically shortened since you were here minutes prior. Rather than wait in the line however, Chan walks directly to the counter, with you nervously in tow. The waiting customers shoot you both angry looks, but they ultimately choose not to say anything about your transgression.
“I’m sorry, I need to take care of this real quick,” Felix says to the angry girl waiting at the front that Chan just caused you to cut off, giving her an apologetic look before turning to the both of you. “Channie-hyung! And Y/N..?” He looks puzzled to see the two of you together, and really you can’t blame him. You were just here, and now here you are again, with a guy you’ve never brought up, and–
Wait. Channie-hyung? They know each other?
“Felix, can you make her another one of these? I’ll pay for it,” Chan says, holding your ruined coffee cup to the poor barista to look at. “Don’t worry hyung, I know her order. And you don’t have to pay! I’ll take care of it,” Felix says as he takes the cup from Chan’s hands, tossing it in a bin underneath the counter before he turns to make you a new drink. Chan grumbles something under his breath about how Felix should let him pay, a subtle frown growing on his face.
“Chan,” you speak up, and he turns his head in your direction, a small “hmm?” leaving his lips. “Your other hand– it’s sticky from the coffee, isn’t it? Do you want to go rinse it off?”
“Oh– yeah, uh, I guess it is,” he says, clenching and unclenching his fist as if he only just realized when you brought it up. “I’ll be right back,” he says, letting go of your hand to make his way to the public bathroom on the other end of the cafe.
You breathe a sigh of slight relief, because as much as you enjoyed holding his hand, it made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your chest. “Here you go,” Felix says as he holds your newly made drink out to you, though instead of his usual smile, he’s looking at you full of curiosity.
“How do you know my brother?” he asks, and wow, does that take you by surprise. The cute, freckled boy who takes your order everyday and serves you with a sweet smile is Chan’s brother? You honestly can’t believe it.
“I, uhm, met him at a party. Wasn’t it your party?” you ask, remembering how Chan told you it was his brother’s and not his. Though as you recall, you didn’t see Felix there, and you definitely would’ve remembered if he was. “Oh, no! It wasn’t mine, it was Changbin’s!”
Oh, so Chan has more than one brother then? You’re about to ask to confirm, but the lady you cut off clears her throat impatiently, clearly fed up with waiting.
“Sorry ma’am, I’ll be right there!” Felix tells her politely before shifting his focus back to you, “Well, gotta get back to work, but I hope you’ll come by the house when I’m there next time! So we can talk more and be friends outside of the cafe!”
He then waves goodbye to you with a bright smile, turning his attention back to the customers in line while you’re left more than a little stunned. You always thought Felix seemed extremely sweet and fun to be around, so you’re definitely not opposed to seeing him outside of getting your morning coffee, but you didn’t expect a friendship to happen like this.
Chan returns shortly after, and though he isn’t smiling, he does seem glad that you have a fresh coffee in your hands. “You gonna be okay? Don’t need me to walk you to class or anything?” Chan asks and you shake your head, though the fact that he even asked practically makes your heart erupt.
“N-No, I was just gonna head home, I have a paper I need to work on and turn in tonight,” you explain, and he nods in acknowledgment, thinking a moment before he speaks. “I’ll see you around then. And uh.. you know. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”
“I will,” you smile, one that he returns ever so slightly. You thank him before you say your goodbye, waving as you make your way out of the door and back out onto the street. You take a sip of your coffee as you take your first steps back to your dorm, finding that it tastes much sweeter than the first one you had– and you like that.
Everything in your life has been that way; sweeter, more enjoyable, with Jae absent from it. And you hope that with your new friends by your side to help and support you, it will stay that way.
Chan is late getting home that night, the shit he had to do for work tonight being beyond exhausting and dirty. The first thing he does is shower, eager to get all the grime off his body so he can eat dinner and hopefully relax, if his brain and body will let him. He eats a microwave meal in relative silence when he’s clean, thinking about all that happened before he set off to work.
He knew it was only a matter of time before he met you again, but he didn’t expect it to be in negative circumstances again. He had a job in the area that day, and figured he’d stop by Sunshine Cafe to see and get a coffee from Felix before getting things done, only to stumble on the sight of Jae dragging you off against your will.
Without even thinking about it, he ran– he didn’t know how far Jae was going to take you, what he planned to do with you, and so he wasted no time to catch up to where he saw you go. Jae has a knack for pissing him off, but this went beyond a feeling as simple as that.
What Chan felt instead was disgust. He thought that Jae was easily the most reprehensible person he’d ever met, and that if he has nothing better to do than harass women, then he deserves to get his teeth knocked out of his skull– and Chan would happily be the one to do that.
And that’s what he planned to do when he pulled Jae back, but when he saw the look on your face, your eyes full to the brim of unshed tears and fear, he stopped. He didn’t want you to see his violent side, he realized.
The side of him that will punch and maim and hurt, that left people bloodied and bruised. When he told you that he was a drop out, and you didn’t judge him, instead offering your understanding and shared your experience with him, he knew you were someone compassionate and good.
Why did people like you always get hurt? He’d seen it countless times, and it always made him sick with anger. And everyone in his life knew that about him, saw first hand the things he was willing to do to protect someone, but for some reason he didn’t want you to see it.
Was it because he didn’t want to taint your impression of him? Because there was a part of him that was afraid that if you knew the kind of things he’s done, that you’d retract any desire to form a friendship with him? He wasn’t sure, but what he did know is that for whatever reason, he wanted you to see him as someone better.
It’s just past 11:30 when he flops down the couch with a sigh next to Hyunjin, who has some drama Chan doesn’t recognize playing on the tv. It was nights like tonight he wished he could turn his brain off, and not worry about what people think of him, nor be plagued by the memories of horrible things he’s done just to survive.
Checking his phone in hopes to find something else to focus on, he sees he received a few texts whilst he was busy– most from clients, a few updates from Changbin, who was complaining about the group project he was assigned from his professor and how he’s staying out tonight to complete it, and a few more from an unsaved number that he can safely assume is yours.
Hi Chan, it’s Y/N!
Thank you so much for everything. I really appreciate it <3
If you’re still sure, I hope it’s okay to rely on you while I keep gathering my courage
9:12 PM ✓
it’s fine rly i’m not gonna let some dickhead like jae do whatever he wants
you can rely on me as long as you want i don’t mind
call me anytime you need
11:34 PM ✓
“What are you smiling about?” Hyunjin asks as he peers over Chan’s shoulder to take a peek. Chan jumps slightly in surprise, locking his phone screen before sliding it into his pocket. “I wasn’t smiling.”
“Uh-huh, sure you weren’t. I believe you,” Hyunjin laughs in response. Chan sits there in an awkward silence for a few moments, before he glances over to see Hyunjin looking at him with a grin. “What?” Chan questions and Hyunjin lets out another small laugh.
“Y/N, huh? Is that the girl from Changbin’s party?” Chan wants to be angry that Hyunjin saw the name on his phone and is asking about it, but honestly, he’d be curious too if it were the other way around, so he can’t fault him for asking.
“Yeah. I saw her again today and gave her my number. Jae was harassing her again, and it pisses me off when he gets away with shit, so. You know.” He’s leaving out the part about his complex, unfamiliar feelings towards you, but Hyunjin doesn’t need to know them, he thinks. Better to leave those unsaid until he figures them out for himself.
Hyunjin meanwhile clicks his tongue in disapproval, displeased to hear that Jae’s up to his usual bullshit. “What’s wrong with that dude? He and his prick friends need to get a job or something and leave everyone else alone.”
“Well if at this point he still doesn’t get the hint, he’s an even bigger dumbass than I already think he is,” Chan says and Hyunjin laughs, agreeing with the sentiment instantly. Chan feels his phone vibrate against his leg as Hyunjin shifts his attention back to his show, and is surprised to see its response from you this close to midnight.
Don’t say that, I might rely on you for a long time then!
11:47pm ✓
i said i don’t mind
i’m here for you okay?
11:48pm ✓
The two of you continue to text, and unbeknownst to himself, Chan has a small smile on his face again, that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin. However, rather than tease his older brother again, he decides to let it be. As fun as it is to poke some fun, he did genuinely like seeing Chan smile. It felt so rare these days to see happiness on his face, and he was grateful to see it now, even if it was only by a small margin.
Chan glances up from his phone to see if Hyunjin is still peeking at him, and is relieved to find that he isn’t. It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be seen texting you, but.. Before he dropped out, he had a reputation in high school for being a bad guy, with all kinds of rumors being spread about him during his freshman year.
And while a lot of them weren’t true, he didn’t mind leaning into them and letting people believe whatever they wanted to if it meant he was left alone. He had no interest in the things his classmates were interested in; grades, exams, college applications, after school clubs… None of those things mattered.
He was forced to grow up quickly after his parents passed away, and it left him jaded to the worries someone his age would typically have had. And while he encouraged his friends-turned-brothers to do well and go after anything they wanted to, he couldn’t find it within himself to care about such fleeting things after all he’d been through.
At the time, all he wanted was to coast until graduation, and then start working full time to support himself and help his found family reach their goals. As long as the people he cared about had a chance to lead a better life than him, that was enough.
Chan figured then, and especially when he dropped out and started working full time, that he wouldn’t have time for new friendships until much later in life, and he made his peace with that a long time ago. However, he couldn’t deny the possibility that perhaps he pushed down the idea that he did want someone to spend time with that wasn’t from his own bubble.
Someone he could talk to about mundane things, who lived a normal life with normal hardships, someone who knew nothing about the shady shit he had to do to survive, and who could distract him from the weight of his responsibilities. And maybe it was okay to let you be that friend for him.
He was sure the others would tease him and say he has a crush, but honestly, his intentions are nothing like that. Despite what rumors would lead you to believe, he’s always been the kind of person to lift up those who needed help, and give them a place next to him. Anyone who had been dealt bad cards in life, he would help if he had the means to, because he knew how awful it felt to be alone with no one to turn to.
Regardless of gender, you both needed someone. And if you could be that someone for Chan, he would be that someone for you, because that’s just the kind of guy he is. As long as you needed him, he’d be there for you, he’d protect you, he’d be your friend. And he hoped you’d be his friend too, and that you’d never stop needing him.
Hiraeth; a deep sense of longing, a deep-rooted desire to return to home that no longer exists, or never existed to begin with. A homesickness tinged with grief and sorrow over what is lost and cannot be regained. A word that encompasses Chan in his entirety, though he’d be loath to admit it to any who asked, emotionally solitary as he is.
When others feel nostalgia, there is an associated happiness– that even though they miss or long for that period of time in their life, they accept that they cannot return to it. They look back on it fondly, happy to have those memories and able to appreciate what they had.
They miss the joy they felt in those simpler times, the days where they were taken care of and pampered by their parents, where every meal was provided for them and they spent all of their free time worry free, watching their favorite cartoons on tv or playing video games for hours on end.
But what do you do when your only memories of childhood are encompassed by an overarching sadness? When what should be happy memories are tainted by the knowledge that you lost your joy too young, that fate held no mercy, not even for a child so young- what do you do?
Chan wished he knew, because the reality is that even nearly 15 years since the day he lost his parents he still doesn’t know how to cope with his grief. And those are the thoughts that kept him up at night, his insomnia complexly woven with heartache and melancholy, unable to be separated no matter how hard he tried.
He doesn’t dare check the clock, knowing that whatever number he sees reflecting back at him will just add to the misery he feels. He shifts onto his back with a sigh, eyes now pointed directly to the bare ceiling.
How different would his life be now if his mom and dad were still here? It was no use thinking about it, it didn’t accomplish anything other than making the ache in his chest grow tighter, but he couldn’t prevent it from happening anymore than he could turn back time and change it. There was no way to make the impossible possible, and there was equally no way to prevent his brain from fixating on the what if's and should be's of his life.
There was a part of him that felt selfish for not being happier– like he was asking for too much, expecting some sort of retribution for all the suffering he’d endured, though such a thing would assuredly never come. It wasn’t like he was always miserable, either– he had so many people in his life he cared about and made him feel sane when life was running him to the ground, he had enough money to afford the things he needed and keep everyone afloat, he was strong and (mostly) healthy.
He should be grateful for all those things, and he certainly is, but just.. It’s hard. You never stop missing the people you lose, he supposes. Even when you’re grateful, even when you’re happy and smiling, even when everything is seemingly perfect, the pain is still there.
Lingering in every interaction, present in every moment, sometimes ignorable but never forgotten, always reminding him that the hole in his heart exists, and will only ever grow larger, impossible to fill. That’s what Chan feels.
Fuck it.
He reaches for his phone on the coffee table, bright light immediately straining his eyes as he unlocks the device. 2:14 a.m– not the worst it could be, thankfully; it means he’s only been stuck in his head for a little over an hour. Should he text you and see if you’ve fallen asleep yet, he wonders?
No– better not to disturb you, and risk himself saying too much about what he feels due to lapse in judgment. The thought of telling anyone about how sad and lonely he is inside makes him physically ill– he dreads the feeling of vulnerability, hates the way his emotions catch in his throat and eyes fill with tears whenever he tries.
He’s always regretted sharing in the past, not because of the fault of anyone he told, but purely due to his own inability to not feel shame and embarrassment when he lets someone in. His friends, brothers, found family, whatever you wanted to call them– very few of them saw Chan at his worst, but in an ideal world, none of them would’ve seen it.
He can still remember the look on Minho’s face the first time he broke down in front of him, and it plagues him. He couldn’t control it– the tears just wouldn’t stop coming no matter how hard he tried to keep them in, choked, broken sobs leaving him uncontrollably as his body shook and trembled.
Minho comforted him, of course– he wasn’t going to leave Chan to suffer alone after seeing him in such a state. But when the moment passed, there was no comfort or consolation within him to be felt– just the shame and embarrassment that twisted itself into a gnawing self-consciousness.
And the thought of being in that state of self-doubt and hatred in front of you was even worse, because you were the absolute last person he wanted to see him that way. Maybe one day, but not now– not when your friendship was still relatively fresh and being built upon.
But.. even if he’s not ready to share his deepest thoughts and feelings, he still wants to talk to you now. He wants to see you smile at him, he wants to listen to you talk about what your plans are for when the winter semester is over and the weather starts to become warm again.
He wants to see the twinkle in your eye when you talk about what your newest favorite song is, wants to your your thoughts on whatever new meal you tried out for dinner. Because as silly as it is, in the few months it’s been since he first became your friend, those are the things he’s come to enjoy most and look forward to.
Are you still awake now? Are you staring up at his ceiling the way he is now in the living room? Is his bed comfortable enough for you? Did he leave you with enough blankets?
He could text you so easily to find out, but for some reason the thought of it makes him extremely nervous. You’ve been to the house plenty of times now since becoming friends with not only him, but Felix, Hyunjin, and Changbin, but this is the first time you’re staying overnight.
You initially came at the request to help Changbin, who is currently taking a class you took last semester but is struggling with the material, and needed assistance to understand the concepts he was being introduced to. You brought your laptop with you, using it to show Changbin the detailed notes you took and offering him copies of the study guides you made, and it truly made Chan happy to see you helping his brother out so diligently.
After a couple hours, Changbin let you off the hook, citing that his brain was tired from the overload of information and he’d be hitting the gym to let off some steam. “Oh my god, it’s this late already? I still have to work on my discussion post for this week,” you groaned, evidently dreading the work you’d have to put into making it decent enough for your professor’s obnoxiously high standards.
“I can help you,” Chan offered without even thinking, and God, why did even do that? Because how was he, a high school dropout with no GED, realistically going to help someone as smart as you?
He wasn’t dumb by any means, but what kind of input could he even offer that would benefit you? But despite the way his brain made fun of him for his lapse in judgment, and convinced him that you’d absolutely refuse his help, you smiled at him.
“Yeah, okay! We should get some food too, I haven’t had dinner yet and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” you spoke cheerfully, opening up a new tab on your laptop to check over the delivery options in the area. He was stunned for a moment, feeling like his entire nervous system was zapped the moment you accepted his offer.
There was no hesitation, no doubt in your mind that he could help despite what you know of his education history– why did that make him feel so warm inside?
The corners of his mouth tugged in a smile as he helped you pick out a restaurant to order from, the two of you munching on burgers and fries as he listened to your thoughts on what your discussion post should be about. You bounced your ideas off him, and while he wasn’t knowledgeable on the subject you needed to write about, discussing it with him still seemed to help you.
It was kind of like thinking aloud; like voicing what you thought worked and what didn’t, what you thought your professor would like to see and what he wouldn’t helped you to formulate a more cohesive outline in your mind. Chan watched as you typed furiously, tongue slightly poked out and brows furrowed as you concentrated on the screen in front of you.
You’d occasionally seek his input, asking things like “does this make sense?” or “do you think this is too much or not enough?” He was entirely out of his depth if he was being honest, but he was happy you wanted his input regardless, and enjoyed seeing a side of you he didn’t typically see.
With Chan’s (albeit limited) help, you managed to finish before the midnight deadline, hitting submit on your post with just a few minutes to spare. You stood up and stretched your arms and legs, feeling stiff from all your time spent hunched at the same spot, a sigh of relief leaving you shortly after.
But then there came the next dilemma– getting home this late into the night. Chan didn’t live far from campus, and thus was near the dorms as well, but the thought of you walking home in relative darkness by yourself didn’t sit well with him.
“You can stay here if you want. You can take my bed, I’ll stay here,” he suggested. You blinked, staying silent as you processed the offer. Chan, who took the quiet as discomfort, was quick to speak up again and try to remedy it, “Or uh, I could walk you back if you’d prefer that–”
“N-No!” you quickly blurted out, face reddening slightly as you cleared your throat to speak more calmly, “I mean– I’ll stay.” Chan nodded, standing up to go up to his room with you; you didn’t need to be led there of course, you already knew where it is, but Chan needed to at least grab a few things for himself before leaving it to you for the rest of the night.
A pair of clothes to sleep in, a blanket, a pillow, his phone charger, and he’s all set. You watched him move about the room while sitting on his bed, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you did. “I’ll see you in the morning, uhm– let me know if you need anything, yeah? I’ll be on the couch, so.. Yeah, good night,” he said with a slight smile before he departed, doing his best to close the door behind himself despite how full his hands were.
Another sigh leaves his lips now, followed by another check of the time; it’s already 2:30 a.m. He doubts you're still awake, and even if you are, he's decided he won't bother you. But if he’s going to lose sleep no matter what, he hopes it's from thinking about you comfortably wrapped in his blankets upstairs, instead of any of the other things that attempt to gnaw at him.
How on earth were you supposed to sleep?
You were in Chan’s bed, surrounded by the smell of his cologne, his stuffed toy wolf clutched closely to your chest because you always held something to fall asleep, but obviously didn’t have any of your own plushies here to do so. And God, your heart absolutely refuses to be still no matter how mundane of a situation you’re in.
Who cares if you’re spending the night in the bed of the guy best friend that you’ve started to develop a crush on? It doesn’t matter! You’re going insane, you think– you can’t take it.
You’re stupid, delusional, thinking about how it'd be if he was still here with you, what it’d be like if he were laying down next to you. Wrapping his arm around you, pulling you against his chest, speaking to you in a gravelly, tired voice and– please brain stop!!
You pour all your mental effort into stopping yourself from thinking about it any further as embarrassment flushes over you. Isn’t this kind of cringey..? Getting a crush on the first guy to ever be nice to you seems so.. Cliche? Pathetic? What is even wrong with you? But when you look at him, you can’t help it.
He may look intimidating to others, but you’ve seen the truth of him since becoming his friend. Maybe it’s just puppy love that will fade with time, but you can’t help but admire him. And maybe that admiration is being fueled by the fact that he’s also incredibly handsome, but that’s besides the point. Underneath the aloof exterior, he’s sweet, caring, humble, generous.. How could you not like him?
And you think about the first time you saw him smile– really smile, full and bright, teeth showing and eyes crinkled as a laugh escaped him. It was so beautiful, you felt like time slowed down around you.
You learned that he had dimples that day; cute ones that made his smile endearing beyond explanation, and that you hoped you’d see again and again and again from that day forward. You loved the way he looked when he was happy, when his hard exterior melted away to reveal the soft features he hid underneath.
Every day spent with Chan was full of a joy you thought you’d lost the capability to feel. You found yourself endlessly enamored by him, by every thing you learned about him; every interaction you had with him, intensified the feeling that welled in your chest.
He was so considerate of you, always watching out for you and making sure you were okay when you were out together. Like the time a few weeks ago when all of you were out together, celebrating Felix’s birthday.
You also met the other guys Chan considered his brothers that day; Jisung and Seungmin, who also had birthdays very close to Felix’s, Minho, who was close in age to Chan and equally as aloof in appearance, and Jeongin, the youngest of them all, though only by a small margin. It was fun to watch them all interact together over dinner, their dynamics quickly becoming apparent.
Changbin, who was typically loud to begin with, became even more so in the presence of Jisung, the pair becoming so explosively loud and chaotic that even the quieter ones like Chan and Minho would end up roped into whatever shouting was currently taking place. You’d laugh as you observed the chaos, and you enjoyed seeing a new side of Chan– one who let loose and had fun, who smiled freely and laughed just as much, who was beautiful beyond words.
You learned a lot about them that day too– about how Minho moved to the opposite end of the city to go to vet school and how Jisung moved into a small apartment with him to make sure he was taking care of himself (and to help care for the cats the older had adopted shortly after.)
Hyunjin, who you already knew was an avid painter, expressed his desire to own a studio some day, and Felix, your favorite barista and baker, talked about all the times he failed at a dessert and forced the others to eat them anyway so they wouldn’t go to waste.
Seungmin was scouted to play baseball, and so moved pretty far away from the others now, but still loved to come back to the city and visit when he could, often with a camera in hand to capture moments he found beautiful. Jeongin was taking a gap year before going to school again, trying to make sure that he was sure about what he wanted to do with his life before committing himself to the hours of work and money spent.
You were in awe of them, truly; they were all so different, yet came together and loved one another so genuinely, as real brothers would. And they all unanimously agreed that Chan was the one who held them together, the one who supported them through everything and helped them during the hardest times in their life.
You loved how anytime someone praised him, or had anything even remotely positive to say about him, his ears would light up red with embarrassment as he turned his gaze away from them. You knew Chan was softie underneath, that was obvious to you from the day you met him, but it was still nice to have your opinion of him affirmed by others, to know that was the kind of person he always was.
And he expressed that he didn’t see his actions as praiseworthy, always feeling awkward when it was brought up. To Chan, it was just human decency to help someone if he had the means to– a feeling that stemmed from the time he spent alone and in need of help when he was a child.
He was well acquainted with that pain, knew how miserable it was, and he didn’t want anyone else to experience it. He couldn’t ignore someone who was clearly in need, so he always helped; even if he wasn’t in the best of circumstances himself, he would do whatever he could for them, no questions asked. And he never asked for anything in return, because to him, seeing the person back on track and happy again was reward enough.
You knew every kind thing they said about Chan was no exaggeration, knew first hand that he truly was the kindest person you’d ever met. He put on a mask of toughness, sure, but there was no one in the world who was as generous and caring as him. You looked at him with pure adoration, which certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin, who smiled to himself whenever he saw the way you’d blush or smile whenever Chan looked back your way.
And when you were leaving the restaurant together, each saying your goodbyes as you readied yourselves to head in your separate directions, you saw him. It was pure coincidence– Jae was across the street, talking with some friends as he stood outside the bar smoking, completely unaware of the fact that you were even in the area.
Chan looked at you, noticed the way you suddenly stopped in place and just stared across the street, and he followed your gaze to the culprit. He stepped close to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to his body.
“It’s okay, he didn’t see you,” Chan comforted you, bringing his other hand to your face, directing you to look away from Jae and at him instead, “and even if he did, I’m right here. Just stick close to me, okay?” You nodded slowly, wondering if the thumb that rested on your cheek could feel the way heat rose to it.
The others who were there, a group consisting of just the 3 who lived with Chan, just observed, not daring to step in until the moment was over. They all knew Jae well, and were also well aware of the things he’d done to you, at least on the surface level, and they promised that they’d look out for you too.
You thanked them earnestly at the time, honestly unable to think of a single time you’d ever felt such solidarity, deeply appreciative of them, and of Chan, who brought you all together. But now, as they all stood there watching, they felt it’d be best to leave it to Chan, who you quite obviously had feelings for. Hyunjin and Felix shared a knowing look, deciding to drag Changbin down the street with them before he’d have the opportunity to accidentally interrupt your moment.
Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he squeezed your shoulder, leading you to walk away from the area with him. There was no romantic intent, you knew that– he was keeping you close to make sure you were okay, to ensure that you were within his reach should anything happen. Chan was a kind hearted person who did anything needed to protect others and there was nothing special about this interaction, you knew that.
But regardless of all those rational thoughts you were repeating to yourself, you couldn’t stop the way it made your heart skip a beat, couldn’t help the way his care for you made your knees weak and face hot. Because even if he never liked you the way you liked him, he still cared about you, and that was enough fuel for your growing crush on him, enough to make your heart beat out of control.
Was he still awake? Chan told you before that he was an insomniac, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he was just as wide awake as you are. Should you go check?
There was certainly no harm in it– if he did happen to be asleep, you’d just quietly slip back to his room and let him get some much needed rest, while you'd try again to get some sleep. There was really no reason not to go.
Carefully, you rise from the bed, wolf plush tucked safely in your arms and blanket wrapped around you, quietly opening the door and exiting out into the hallway. You’re careful not to make the stairs creak as you make your way down to the living room where Chan is supposed to be, and he immediately comes into view once you’re at the bottom.
It’s obvious he’s awake, phone screen brightly illuminating the otherwise pitch black space. He hears your footsteps as you step closer, lifting his head just enough to see who is approaching him this late at night.
He looks surprised to see you for a moment, an emotion you can’t read in the relative darkness on his face for just a second before he’s sitting up and scooting to the side to make room for you on the couch next to him. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” he asks as you plop down in the spot he’s provided for you next to him, “Is my bed uncomfortable?”
“Oh, no! Your bed was fine, it’s just..” I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it was driving me crazy, you think, but don't admit, “.. a lot on my mind, I guess.” He hums in acknowledgment, definitely feeling the same way; but he didn’t need to drag you down with all that.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he offers, but you quickly shake your head, mortified at the thought of revealing your crush on him. That’s the last thing you should do. “Thanks, but no, I just want to take my mind off it.”
He chuckles a little at your response, opting instead to change the subject, “I see you have Wolf Chan with you.” Wolf Chan? You look down at your arms, the cute wolf toy’s head peeking out from between your arms.
“Oh, he has a name?” you ask and he nods, smiling ever so slightly as he speaks. “Yeah, kinda embarrassing but I had a huge wolf phase as a kid, so my mom and dad got me him for my birthday. Named him after myself cause, you know, kid brain thought it was cool.”
“That’s cute! When is your birthday?” you ask, hoping that you’d have the chance to plan something nice for him as thanks for all he’s done for you in the time you’ve known him. “October 3rd,” he answers swiftly, and you frown.
“..What? It already passed then? Why didn’t you tell me?” your frown transitions into a pout, sad at the realization that you all celebrated his brother's birthdays but not his.
“I.. don’t really celebrate it. Wolf Chan– he was the last gift I got from my parents, the last birthday I had with them before.. Yeah. So I just.. Don’t acknowledge my birthday anymore, I guess?” Your heart sinks, not only because of how sad that is, but because you’re holding something clearly so important and personal to him without even having known it. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know– should I go put him back?”
“Nah, don’t worry. I like it actually,” he smiles softly, sincerely, “I haven’t touched him in a long time myself, so.. He needs the attention. I’m sure he was feeling neglected.” You smile back, relief washing over you instantly, thankful that you didn’t unintentionally make a drastic error. “Well I hope you know, I can’t let your birthday go ignored now that I know it.”
“I expected that,” he replies, knowing full well you’d share that sentiment with his brothers. They still always wish him a happy birthday and get him a gift despite how often he expresses that they shouldn’t.
“Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer,” you ask carefully, voice quiet and unsure, an underlying worry carried in your tone. Chan swallows, already anticipating what the question will be, the same questions he’s answered countless times, but never gets any easier to talk about.
“What they were like? You must still think about them a lot.” Oh. That wasn’t the question he was expecting. He’s used to being asked what happened, how he's coping, if there’s anything he needs– no one has ever asked about what they were like when they were still here.
He anticipates pity, or a sympathy that while mostly appreciated, makes him feel incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. Even with practice, there’s still times where he doesn’t know how to react, a terse, “I’m fine, thanks,” leaving him as he plots the quickest way out of the conversation.
Safe to say, Chan isn’t good about talking about his feelings, or even feeling them to begin with for that matter. Apart from moments of weakness, when his facade cracks due to the mounting pressure and overload of emotions, he shares only what he deems necessary, never offering more than the minimum of what is needed.
Even when it came to his brothers, who he trusts more than anyone else, it was hard for him to go beyond his practiced response, taking him a great amount of emotional effort to do so. And he's not confident he can talk with you about how good they were without breaking down, but he can still share a little of how he feels, can't he?
“I do,” he answers after a moment, voice ever so slightly wavering. It's a simple response, sure, but not for Chan– nothing related to this topic is ever simple or easy for him. But somehow he feels comfortable enough to try.
And maybe that’s because it’s encroaching 3am and lack of sleep really takes a toll on one’s mental defenses, but he doesn’t think that’s all there is to it. He trusts you, as he does anyone he’s grown close to, but it takes more than trust alone to be able to open up.
You could trust someone with your life and still struggle to express an emotion, still have the words you want to say die in your throat. Maybe it’s because of what else he feels when he’s around you– an unfamiliar emotion that encroaches on his chest whenever you’re in the room with him.
The one that intensifies his desire to protect you from people like Jae, the one that leads to him wanting to talk to you at all hours about any and every thing that comes to your mind, the one that makes his heart pick up when you smile at him and always makes him return the smile despite himself.
He wants to share with you, he realizes; share everything he can, from his happy moments to his sad ones, his thoughts, his feelings, his entire life even. He wants nothing to be off limits, to be his authentic self before you, even if who he is deep down is ugly and scarred.
“Even just before you came downstairs, I was thinking of them,” he continues, his honesty unfamiliar to himself but not unwelcome; it’s not that he’d lie about anything he felt, but he was just.. Avoidant. He didn’t want to talk about it, refused to even, most times.
But you– you make him want to be honest, not just with you, but with himself. Maybe it’s because of the feelings for you that have begun to accumulate in his heart, or maybe because he knows how similar you are. The circumstances were different, but the feelings were the same; isolation, sadness, hopelessness.
No one to turn to, no one to rely on, fighting all by yourself, with only your own ability to pick yourself back up to carry you forward. Chan knew first hand how painful that existence is, how much it hurts to have nothing, no one. He’s also come to learn, time and time again, that even when you’ve found your place in the world, the void lingers.
The hole in his chest never closes– even if he can stop it’s growth, it never shrinks, never collapses or recedes. There’s reasons for that, he knows; it’s his own fault for not allowing himself to feel, to share, his hesitancy to allow anyone past arm’s length or to chip at his walls.
He doesn’t want that with you– if he wants something with you beyond this, beyond the boundaries of simple friendship, he needs to do more, feel more, share more. It was something he thought he would be terrified to do, an irrational fear that your opinion of him would change if he wasn't as strong as he appeared to be; but now that he's met with the opportunity, instead of fear, he feels.. safe?
“I lost them really young, you know; I was just a kid with a lot of grief he didn’t know how to handle, and the people who took me in didn’t care. ‘Suck it up,’ ‘get over it,’ ‘stop being a baby and grow up,’ shit like that. Didn’t matter that I was only 7 and lost everything, I should just be grateful they gave me a place to sleep and eat."
"Got emancipated at 16 to get away from them, dropped out of school cause I couldn’t balance it with how much I had to work, and I wasn’t gonna miss it anyways. And here I am now,” Chan is hesitant to meet your gaze when he finishes talking, worried about what feeling it might conjure in him when he sees your eyes laden with sympathy.
Normally, the sympathy of others make him feel sick. He hates the pity, hates the attention that comes with having his vulnerabilities on display, hates the words they offer as consolation. But he doesn't hate it for you– the only thing you ever make him feel is warm. So, so warm after a lifetime of cold.
You move across the couch and wrap your arms around him in a hug, an action he didn’t expect– it's the first time you're hugging him. “That must’ve been so hard..” you say softly, care and concern for him evident in the way you speak to him.
He blinks, a lump forming in his throat that normally he’d try to ignore, to push away and act as if he’s fine, but this time he doesn’t. He’s choked up, he’s emotional, and for once, that’s okay.
Carefully, he wraps his arms around you as well, his head resting atop yours as he lets out a shaky exhale. “Can we stay like this for a while?” he asks quietly, his fingers clutching at your shirt, as if afraid you’ll leave him the moment he lets go.
“Of course,” you assure him, moving just enough to make yourself more comfortable and settle in against him, “as long as you need.” He mumbles a ‘thank you’, to which you hum in response, following his lead as he lays back and settles with you in his arms.
You stay like that for a long time– long enough for your breathing to slow, eyes closed and arms beginning to fall from the hug as you drift off. Your head has sank to his chest, his heartbeat, that started fast and erratic, has slowed to a comforting, steady rhythm that lulled you to sleep.
Chan is careful to pull the blanket up to your shoulders, ensuring that you at least are covered and will stay plenty warm until you wake up. He closes his eyes, keeping his arms wrapped around you under the blanket, wanting to keep you close and not let go.
He doesn’t know if he’ll always have this with you; this close comfort, this feeling of peace and calm, of having you in his arms and being able to be held by you, while holding you in return. He likes it, wants it engraved in his memory in case it never happens again, to always remember the way you felt, the way you cared, the safety he felt with you. A small, but cherished moment, special and important to him beyond words.
Was it okay to be this happy? It’s something Chan thought about lately, whenever he had finished spending a day with you, laying in his bed and playing them over in his mind, making sure every little detail was memorized.
The way you smiled, the way you laughed, the feel of your soft skin when he touched your hand or you hugged him tight, the way your perfume lingered in the room long after you’d left it. Did he deserve to be happy?
He certainly didn’t feel like he did, but he welcomed it all the same, too selfish to let go of the small piece of joy he’d obtained. His feelings for you had grown considerably, and he was sure it was obvious to his brothers, who never failed to notice the way he'd change when he was around you; they just knew him too well and were around him too much to not notice something different about his behavior.
He liked you a lot, and there was certainly no way he’d be able to deny it if they asked about it. They didn’t overtly ask about it though of course, more often opting to make subtle nods to their knowledge of it or make suggestions like ‘wouldn’t it be fun if Y/N came too? You should invite her!’ when they had plans together.
Sometimes they even lightly poked some fun, one instance that sticks in Chan's mind being when Hyunjin wanted to show him what he called an “adorable picture.” It was of you and Chan, asleep on the couch together that first time you stayed the night.
Your head on his chest, his arm loosely wrapped around you, blanket having fallen from your shoulders just enough to make Chan’s hand on your back come into view. His face flushed when he saw it, ears burning as they turned red. Hyunjin was right, it was an adorable picture, and Chan was embarrassed beyond belief to see the moment captured.
Hyunjin giggled in a mischievous sort of delight upon seeing the older’s reaction, evidently very pleased with the result he obtained. Chan's typical response in a situation where his feelings are exposed like this would be to play it cool and act like it’s not a big deal, which truthfully, he didn’t want to do.
Why should he pretend he doesn’t like you as much as he does? Especially after he’s decided he’ll do his best to be honest with himself, and by extension, the others in his life (you especially.) Even if it’s embarrassing, or uncomfortable because he’s not used to his emotions being obvious and out on display, it’s what he wants, needs even.
He needs to let them out if he’s going to be a better man than he was the day before, to be deserving of you when the time is right. So instead, he does what would normally be the unthinkable– he owns it. No denial, no avoidance, no playing it off as less severe or important than it really is to him.
“Can you.. send it to me? I– I want to keep it,” Chan asked, easily the most shy and embarrassed to ask a question he had ever been in his entire life. Hyunjin blinked, initially surprised, but then immediately smiled. “Of course Channie-hyung! You should send it to Y/N too, I’m sure she’d like it,” he said as he eagerly opened his message tab, clicking Chan’s name to send the photo he took.
“You could send it to her,” Chan responded before the words following fully sank in. Would you? “You think she’d want it too?” he asked, wondering if Hyunjin could tell how much hope lied in his question.
“Why wouldn’t she? You’re friends, aren’t you? And it’s a cute memory,” Hyunjin said, doing his best to convey why he thinks you’d want it without revealing that you absolutely have as bad of a crush on Chan as he does on you. (And it’s not like you explicitly told him either; it’s just that you’re as obvious about it and easy to read as Chan is.)
“Right, yeah, of course.” Was it silly to hope that Hyunjin would say something like ‘obviously because she likes you!’ …Yeah. Definitely. But when he looked at the picture, it gave him hope that maybe you felt the same way; and if you didn’t, that maybe you would in the future, after he gave his earnest effort to be someone good.
His next bit of hope came during a get together for Hyunjin’s birthday. The weather had just begun to turn warm, the days slowly getting longer and longer, allowing for more frequent outings. Thus, by Hyunjin’s own request, you went to have some fun downtown, hitting up local art scenes and scouting out opportunities for the birthday boy to get some fresh, new supplies.
It turned out to be a long day, with Hyunjin’s interest piqued towards various different places and sights, and as night rolled in most of the group had empty stomachs and aching legs. You all settled for having dinner at the house, picking up takeout and a birthday cake on the way back.
You seemed different after eating dinner, Chan noticed. You were sitting alone on the couch away from the group in the kitchen, who were crowding around the birthday cake waiting for a slice. You were watching them with an almost somber expression, and Chan could’ve sworn your eyes were fixated on him in particular.
Had he done something to upset you? There was nothing he could recall, but he wasn’t exactly well versed or experienced with understanding or handling the complexities of feelings. He could easily imagine a world in which he unintentionally said or did something wrong, but he hoped that maybe you were just tired, and Chan only thought you were looking at him in sadly, when in reality, exhaustion was just catching up to you.
And really, you were staring at Chan, but not for the reason he feared; he hadn’t done a single thing to upset you– quite the contrary, actually. He was good– not just to you, but to everyone. You watched the way he’d shoulder everything, how he’d support endlessly and rarely accept anything back, always so selfless and caring, withstanding anything thrown his way with generous consideration.
You learned a lot about Chan in your time with him; about his youth, what his family dynamic used to be like, how even before he dropped out he had a bad reputation at his school for appearing stand-offish and cold. That reputation followed him for a majority of his life after leaving as well, with most people who knew him having a great dislike for him due to their perceived vision of him and the half-truths (or outright lies) they believed in.
It was only people like you and his brothers, who took the time to know him beyond the superficial front, that knew what a great person he truly was. And truthfully, it angered you; why were people so quick to judge someone they didn’t know?
Chan was the exact opposite of what people made him out to be. He wasn’t violent or cruel, nor was he scary or someone to be avoided at all costs. He was just a boy, now a man, who had suffered far too much pain and cruelty for someone his age, who was just doing his best to navigate the world with the limited resources he had. What was so wrong with that?
But despite all the misconceptions of others, the burdens he carried, or the responsibilities he had, you never once heard him complain about any of it, or show any sign of annoyance. Because despite what people might think about him, the people close to him knew who he truly was– someone who lived his life with compassion and kindness, who was misunderstood but not ill-intentioned, always trying his best despite the difficulties that came his way.
Sometimes you would wonder, though– is he really okay? Chan had dealt with so much, enough to easily break down even the most resolute of people. And as much as he shared, there was equally as much that you didn’t know; about what he felt, if he ever received as much as he gave, if he was truly happy.
You did your best to ensure he was. You always returned whatever favor he gave you, strived to be a reassuring presence for him as much as he was for you, but it was hard to know if that was enough. You wanted to ask, but you didn’t know how best to broach the subject, or if he’d even be willing to talk about it if you did.
He had opened up to you before, during late night chats or if something he saw reminded him of a memory he held, but the moments themselves were quite fleeting, and you worried about him. You always worried about him, no matter where you were or what you were doing, because simply put, you loved him.
You weren’t in love with him (you definitely were), but he was an undeniably important person in your life, who you had a lot of love and care for. He was your friend, and you wanted the best for him.
You’d never force him to share with you or tell you anything he didn’t want to of course, but you hoped he knew that he could if he wanted to. You hoped he knew that he never had to be scared or uncertain when it came to opening up to you, you hoped he knew that you would always listen to him and be there for him.
Chan approached you carefully, working up his courage to talk to you and see if you were okay, and to know if there was an apology he owed you for some unknown grievance. “Are you okay? What’s got you so deep in thought tonight?” he’d asked, trying his best to not show how nervous he felt; you’d stopped looking at him, but he could tell even from afar that you were focused on something.
“Oh, I..” You hesitated a moment, wondering how you should best phrase what your honest thoughts were. You took a quick glance towards the kitchen where everyone else was, noting that everyone still seemed to be involved in their own conversations and antics, not paying any mind to the two of you. That made it a little easier; you think you’d die of embarrassment if they heard what you planned to say next.
“I was thinking about you actually,” you said quietly after turning your gaze back to Chan. What surprised him wasn’t just how openly you admitted it, but how you didn’t seem the least bit angry or upset with him like he was worried you were.
So.. what about him had you so deep in thought, then? “What about me..?” he asked hesitantly, hoping for the best but still slightly scared he was reading you completely wrong.
You swallowed before continuing, worried that you were somehow going to offend him by bringing up what you were thinking. While you felt like you knew Chan fairly well at this point, people can still become defensive or agitated when asked about something personal, and that’s the last thing you wanted him to feel.
But he’s looking at you expectantly, eyes fixed solely on you as he waited to hear what you had to say, so there was no getting out of it now. “I was wondering if you are okay lately. Like.. really okay, and not just saying you are so we don’t worry about you.”
Oh. He was completely stunned by your words, unexpectedly taken aback. No one had ever said that to him before, and he didn’t know how to respond to such earnest concern for him. Obviously, he had been asked if he was okay plenty of times in his life, but never in a way such as this, that insinuated there was a lot more hiding below the surface.
And there was. Deep buried feelings gnawed at him, begging to be acknowledged, but he always pushed them down further, reasoning that now wasn’t the time and he’d confront them later, when the time was right.
But when was the right time? It never came, no time ever feeling like the right one. Or maybe Chan just spent so much time avoiding his feelings that now he didn’t know how to confront them anymore. He was so used to sharing so little, that even his earnest efforts were still small in comparison to what most others were able to do.
But how did you realize that about him? Was it just coincidence, or were you already so acclimated to him that you could recognize the way his brain worked? “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you said after his prolonged pause, worried that you did in fact make him uncomfortable as you feared.
“I– No, I was just surprised,” he finally responded, turning to look in the direction of his friends just as you had done a moment prior. They were all joking around, laughing loudly as they made the birthday boy wear a stupid party hat they picked up and putting frosting on his face, leaving Chan in his own little bubble with you.
He turned his gaze back to you, wanting to say something, anything, but finding it difficult to speak, as usual. His words were trapped in his throat, refusing to come to the surface no matter how much effort he poured into trying. You took notice of his hesitancy, and decided to speak again in the hopes of giving him some comfort.
“I just– you’ve done a lot for me since I met you, more than anyone ever has, so… I want to be there for you too. If you need it, I mean, because I really, really care about you..” Your face heats up a bit when you’re finished speaking, feeling nervous from the admission.
This must feel so out of the blue from Chan’s perspective, and that thought made you feel silly for bringing it up in the middle of a birthday party in the first place. And on top of that, you’d openly said how much you care about him, which is embarrassing all on its own. Even if it’s not a love confession by any means, it feels similar enough that it makes your heart pound like crazy.
Chan’s face grew hot, positively burning, heart rate picking up drastically. He hopes you don’t notice the obvious red creeping on his features, or hear how fast his heart is beating against his chest. It wasn’t just the fact that he hadn’t expected this moment to happen that made him react this way, but the way you expressed your concern for him.
You wanted to support him, you wanted to make sure he was okay, you were thinking about him. Normal things, sure, but when coming from someone you have undeniable feelings for, it’s enough to make your blood pressure skyrocket.
He swallowed, preparing himself to make another attempt at speaking. “Thank you, I really appreciate that,” he said, offering a timid smile your way to ease your growing anxiety as he continued, “It might be hard for me, but– but I’ll try, at the very least.. To tell you if I’m not okay, I mean.”
You returned his smile earnestly, evidently pleased with his response. You couldn’t ask him to open up easily or suddenly share all his close-held concerns and deeply buried thoughts, but the fact that he’d try and was open to it was what’s important. If he could trust you the way you had grown to trust him, that’d be more than enough for you to be happy.
From a distance, Felix had taken notice of the way you and Chan hadn’t joined in on the chaos of chasing Hyunjin around the kitchen to cover him with icing, and paused to look in your direction. The others stopped too when they noticed his pause, following his gaze to be met with the same sight of Chan’s burning face and the beaming smile you held towards him. They had hope, as much as Chan did, that there would come a day where the two of you would become a couple.
Was it okay to be this happy? Was it okay for Chan to hope that you returned his feelings? Was it okay to plan his confession, to wonder how his life would look if you said yes, to picture himself kissing you and holding you close at all hours of the day?
There were still things he had to do first, things to get out of and people to get away from, but you were his driving force to do that. You were the motivation to turn his life into something better, the hope he needed to get through it all.
Even if he didn’t deserve it, you made it worth trying. His life, which was plagued with bad memories and remorse for actions taken, became brighter and more livable when you were there to share it with him. Maybe it was okay to have someone to lean on, someone to confide in and share his burden with, someone to ground him and remind him that happiness is possible for him, and that it doesn’t always have to be a fleeting hope or dream.
That’s what you were for him– hope in human form, a dream come true. Everything he wanted, everything he needed, beautiful and perfect in every way. And if you accepted his feelings, he’d never stop showing his appreciation to you, he’d shower you with all the love you could handle and then some, making sure you always knew just how much you meant to him.
There were many things in this life that left Park Jaehyung feeling resentful; the way adults expected absolute obedience from him, the way he was expected to be an exemplary student with no flaws, and the way society projected their version of ‘success’ onto him. He wanted to do what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it, with no one to tell him what is or isn’t proper.
All he wanted in life was to have fun and live by his own terms, consequences be damned. If he wanted to smoke, he’d do it. If he wanted to party, he’d do it. And if he wanted to get with a girl, even one who absolutely loathed his existence, he’d do it. So, what by far angered him more than anything else was the way Bang Chan had thrown himself into your life.
Jae would say that he knew Chan and his crew fairly well, often finding themselves within the same spaces. And from an outside perspective, comparisons definitely could be made between them; after all, how different from each other could some ex-school delinquents be from a shady drop out that no one gave a shit about, and his friends that followed him around like lost puppies?
They’d often find themselves rooted in the same places, attending the same parties, pissing off or scaring the same people; but that was the extent of any similarity between them. Contrary to what an outsider may believe, Jae absolutely hated Chan, and anyone who would look at them and come to the conclusion that they were friends were blatant fucking morons.
From Jae’s perspective, Chan was pretentious and irritating; he always had a holier than thou attitude, looking down on Jae and his friends as if he was any better. Who was Chan to preach about morals and principles? Who gives a fuck about any of that bullshit?
Jae certainly didn’t, and he was tired of being told he was ‘in the wrong.’ If Chan wanted to spend his whole life worrying about whether or not what he was doing was right or wrong, he could, but Jae wasn’t going to listen to it. Besides, it was pretty fucking ironic to get lectured by a “professional fixer" of all people. He really should drop the “I’m better than you” act.
But for the most part, Jae could live his everyday life without interacting with Chan, or seeing any of his loyal idiots. The occasional glare on the street or punch thrown at a party was the extent of their relationship, if you could even call it that. As long as both sides minded their own business, there wasn’t much conflict to be had.
Sure, Jaehyung would love to instigate a problem given how much he disliked them, but he wasn’t stupid enough to start a fight he wouldn’t assuredly win. Some might accuse him of cowardice, but he would argue that it was just being smart. There was nothing to be gained from a losing battle; it was better to bide his time, and wait for the right moment. And there was a critical piece missing in the “right moment” that he still needed; you.
For as long as he could remember, Jae found school pointless. It was repetitive, boring, and everyone around him was exceedingly fake. They all wore such obvious masks, trying (and failing, in Jae’s opinion) to appear without fault. No one was perfect and he found it pitiful to even try and pretend they were.
No matter who you are or what you do, something will be flawed. There will always be something wrong with you, always something there for someone to criticize. So what was the point of it all? By the time he entered high school he was used to this monotony and the ignorance of his peers.
And that’s when he saw you for the first time; shy, vulnerable, unmasked you. You weren’t trying to project anything to anyone that wasn’t authentically you, though at first he couldn’t tell if that was intentional or not. Maybe you simply had no reason to, or you were comfortable not to, or maybe didn’t even realize how different you were amongst the people he’d grown to hate.
Whatever the reason, he was intrigued by your ‘realness’ in a sea of two faced, judgemental people. You were smart but not boastful, kind but not pretentious, beautiful but seemingly modest; and he liked it.
At first, his fixation with you started with simple curiosity driven observation. You were always at the top of the class but never once looked down on anyone below you. And while he personally found studying incredibly tedious and pointless, he did oddly admire how much you devoted yourself to it.
You weren’t born smart, at least he assumed so from how often he witnessed you studying, rather you reached your heights through effort and determination. And instead of finding it a worthless effort like he would if it were someone else, he found himself meeting a strange feeling he couldn't name.
He wasn’t sure why, but watching you give your earnest effort to your studies didn’t piss him off like it did with everyone else. Normally he’d tell someone like you that they were wasting their time– studying was stupid, school was stupid, and anyone who cared about it was stupid as well. So why didn’t he have that same sentiment towards you? Why did he want to encourage you?
Why did he want to always look at you? What was it about you that infatuated him so much? He could have any girl he wanted, ones who lined up with his view of the world and he could woo as easily as he could tie his shoe, but instead he always found his gaze landing on you.
To like someone like you went against everything he ever told himself, but maybe that was okay. Maybe you could change his perspective, make him the kind of person that could care about the shit he's supposed to.
That’s why he approached you that day. He didn’t tell any of his friends what he was feeling or about his intentions to get to know you– it was something he wanted to do for himself. He didn’t want to look at you from afar anymore, he wanted to be next to you. He wanted to talk to you, get to know you, find out what makes you the person you are.
And then his friend fucking ruined it. Maybe it was Jae’s own fault for always putting himself in the leader position, for being the kind of person who can’t let someone else take charge, because that meant he had people waiting on him.
In hindsight, it was obvious someone would notice his absence from the group and come seek him out, but it still pissed him off. And what pissed him off even more were the words his friend spoke.
“I knew it! You do like her!”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now what was he supposed to do? His friend’s smug fucking grin was infuriating. Who was he to look at Jae like that? He couldn’t admit he genuinely liked you or say he wanted to get to know you, he had a reputation to maintain.
So, he did the opposite of what he truly wanted to do. He treated you the same way he treated the girls he had flings with, acting like you were some lovesick puppy who couldn’t handle that he didn’t like you the way you liked him.
You were going to hate him after that, he knew it; and maybe he was stupid for even thinking he could have genuine friendship with someone like you given the kind of guy he was. And why should he want that?
He doesn’t do shit like that, he never has, and the fact that you even managed to get into his head and make him doubt the way he’s lived so far pissed him off. You were just a girl, at the end of the day.
And so his complicated, unresolved feelings of frustration and hatred were endlessly unleashed upon you, the undeserving outlet for his confusion and stubborn desire to never change his ways for anyone. He’d live his life the way he wanted, regardless of what anyone had to say about it, and like-minded people could come along for the ride as long as they recognized him as the one on top of it all.
And you, the one he liked for a fleeting moment before it all came down on him; he wouldn’t let you go. Because whether you liked him or hated him, you wouldn’t be able to ignore him. As long as you felt something for him, even if that feeling was hate, fear, or dread, it was a feeling for him, and he’d take anything from you he could, because that was the best he was ever gonna get.
When he saw you at that party, it felt like fate. God didn’t do favors for men like him, but maybe he could start to believe in shit like that if he kept getting blessed like this. When graduation day came, he was sure he’d never see you again. You were moving to god-knows-where, while he’d stay stuck in this shitty city with his shitty friends, doing the same shit he always does.
Well, his time with you couldn’t last forever; this was the inevitable conclusion, after all. He’d just crash wherever he felt like it, work when he felt like it, and maybe get a girl on his arm to take your place when he felt like it. But then he saw you, at this random ass party he went to by chance, purely cause his friends were going and booze was promised.
You hadn’t moved all that far, it turned out. You were still within his reach, and he had you now. Oh, and the look you gave him when your eyes met; he knew he missed it but damn, did it light a fire in him. He had you again, he had you, and then Chan fucking ruined it, like he ruins everything he comes in contact with.
It was okay, he thought. There would be more chances, and Jae could be assured of the fact that no one fucking likes Chan, and you wouldn’t either. Now that he knew you weren’t all too far from where you grew up, he could find you again, and relive his glory days before they ever even faded. But every fucking time he saw you again, Chan was there, ruining it.
Fuck, it infuriated him. And the way you looked at him? What the fuck was that? The way you smiled at him made him absolutely sick; Jae never knew you could smile like that, and why would he? He never did anything to warrant something like that from you. But if he didn’t get to have it, then why did Chan? Chan didn’t deserve shit, and especially not you.
You smiled at him like he was the world, stared at him with twinkling eyes and a flushed face, let him wrap his arm around you and hold your hand with the most shy delight Jae had ever seen. And it all went to Chan? All your pretty looks and radiant smiles were for him? No, he couldn’t take that. If there was one thing Jae was going to do, it was going to be making sure he ruined it for Chan, the way that Chan ruined everything for him.
And finally, his patience was rewarded, because he sees you walking alone in a shopping plaza not all too far away from where you go to school. It’s a popular spot for the local college students, carrying everything they need to get through their daily lives, as well as a few luxuries.
It’s not all that busy at this time of day however; it’s still fairly early on a Friday evening, and if Jae had to guess, that’s precisely why you’re here now, instead of an hour or two later when there will be a rush of students all looking to do some shopping or have a bit of weekend fun.
He wasn’t here for you, having come instead to look for a hook-up, but he’s not going to ignore a perfectly good opportunity when it’s presented to him. He wastes no time in approaching, smiling as he does, eager to put a plan in motion to bring everything Chan wants crashing down on his fucking head.
You freeze when he calls your name, heart sinking as you register the voice you’re hearing. You know it all too well, never able to forget it. Despite your better judgment screaming at you to just keep walking, you turn in the direction you heard the voice to see Jaehyung standing against one of the plaza’s many support beams.
What was he doing here? You want to believe he didn't come out looking for you purposely, but you wouldn't put it past him; he's certainly capable of it. “Long time no chat, huh? Have you missed me?” he asked with the signature condescending tone you were once so familiar with.
“What do you want?” You ask sternly, deciding you absolutely will not entertain any of his mocking. “Wow, so hostile already,” Jae fakes a disappointed sigh as he crosses his arms, “That’s pretty brave of you given your guard dog is nowhere in sight.”
You glare at him as you stick your hands in your pockets, wanting to have your phone at the ready in case he tries something with you. “If you touch me you’ll regret it. Chan will know it was you,” you say, trying to sound braver than you feel. You had no doubt that Chan would kick Jae's ass if he did anything to you, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try anyways if he really wanted to.
“Yeah, you’re right, which is why I’m not gonna do any of that shit. I just wanna talk to you," Jaehyung says, and your brow immediately raises in suspicion. He just wants to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “Talk about what? There’s nothing I want to hear from you,” you counter, and he chuckles, having fully expected a reaction like that.
“Just hear me out. How well do you know Chan? Like really know him?” he counters back. “..Why?” you ask with a frown. You wanted to say you knew Chan well, but the truth is that there’s still a lot about him you don’t have insight on.
Despite that, you’re sure that anything Jae has to say about him isn’t going to be the truth, and you certainly won’t let anything from Jae’s mouth change how you feel about someone. Especially not Chan.
“Mm, I see,” Jae responds, seemingly amused at the way you refuse to offer anything up. “How about this then, do you know what he does for a living?” You narrow your eyes at his question. What is he getting at by asking you something like that?
“He works at a convenience store,” you respond flatly, not wanting to give away anything you feel from his pestering. “Oh, does he? Are you sure about that?” he responds with a sarcastic smile that leaves you feeling uneasy. “What are you insinuating?”
“Do you really think that the money he makes at a convenience store earns him enough money to pay for that big ass house he lives in? All the food they eat, their bills, school expenses, everything? Even with a hell of a lot of overtime and his friends pitching in, that’s a bit unrealistic, don’t you think?” he once again counters your question with one of his own, clearly trying to plant seeds of doubt about Chan within you. “Cmon, you’re smarter than that, why don’t you think about it harder?"
You glare at him again, refusing to listen any further or reach whatever conclusion he is attempting to bring you to. “Whatever you’re trying to say about Chan, I don’t care. Tell it to someone else.” You start to turn to walk away, feeling fed up with his game at this point, but he quickly grabs your arm to stop you.
“Let go,” you protest as you try to tug your arm away, but he tightens his grip. “Just listen,” he says as he keeps a firm hold on you, “Chan isn’t as good as you think he is.” You scoff at his words. As if someone like him was any better?
You’d take Chan over him any day, no matter what it is you don’t know about him. “You’re going to lecture me on good people? After all you’ve done to me? Whatever Chan may or may not be involved in, I’d take my chances with him rather than spend even another second around you.”
Jae’s face contorts in anger at your words, and he roughly throws your arm back at you. “Fine, go fuck your piece of shit criminal boyfriend and see where it gets you!”
…What?
Jae sees the shock and confusion clearly on your face, and his usual smug smile replaces the scowl he held just a moment ago. “What, you didn’t know? He does some real bad shit in his free time, sweetheart. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets arrested one of these days,” he returns to his mocking tone, clearly trying to get even more of a reaction out of you.
“I don’t believe you,” you respond and he laughs, as if he expected to hear that. “Of course you don’t. But I can prove it to you.” “Prove it how?” you question despite your better judgment. You know you shouldn’t indulge Jae by leaning into whatever he was trying to make you think, but if there was some semblance of truth in his statement.. What would that mean for Chan? For his brothers, and for you?
“Meet up with me later, you’ll see then,” he says plainly and you frown in response. “I trust you even less than I believe you,” you say as you cross your arms and Jae laughs again; you certainly have gotten more of a spine since the last time he saw you. "Like you said, they'd know it was me if something happens to you. I really have nothing to gain from tricking you unless I have a death wish.”
You narrow your eyes, contemplating the situation before making any definite decision. You supposed what he was saying is true at least; anything he tried would get back to the guys, and they’d make him regret it with no hesitation.
But even so, you were still hesitant to go along with this. You really didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by buying into whatever he was trying to tell you, but now there was a gnawing feeling in the back of your head telling you that if it was true, and Chan is a criminal, you needed to know.
“..Fine, but don’t expect me to go anywhere private with you,” you finally say, a knot building in your stomach as you commit to seeing what Jae thinks is so terrible about Chan. “Fine with me, princess, just show up where I tell you to and you’ll see everything you need to,” he smirks at you and your stomach churns, both from the smug look on his face and the nauseating nickname.
“I’ll reach out, so don’t chicken out, ‘kay? I expect to see you,” he grins before he turns away, leaving you to resume your evening. As he gets further away, guilt and uncertainty begins to creep up on you. What if this is something you and Chan can never come back from? What if you can never trust each other again? Is it worth potentially losing someone so special to you? You hope beyond words that this isn’t a decision you’ll come to regret.
It takes Jae a week to reach out to you again, doing so on social media cause there was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever give him your phone number. You also didn’t see Chan much that week, the guilt and worry eating away at you every time you looked at him, knowing that at some point, Jae was supposedly going to present you with evidence of Chan being a bad person. You still don’t believe that he is, but you need to put this to rest yourself, and not give room for any doubts about Chan to live in your head.
The address Jae sends you is indeed a public one, a relatively large park just outside of the city that you imagine is popular with the families that live close to it. At the time you’re going though, there definitely won’t be any families there. You have reservations about meeting up with Jae at night, even if it’s at a public place, but he insists that night is the only time that’ll work because “people don’t do shady shit during the day” apparently.
Begrudgingly, you go to the park well before the appointed hour, passing the time on a bench until Jae shows up, having your phone at the ready just in case this is all some sort of elaborate plot to get you where he wants you. He grins when he sees you, shooting you a wave that you don’t reciprocate. “Nice to see you,” he says with a smirk as he walks up to you.
“Can’t say the same about you,” you respond flatly, “let’s just get this over with.” “Gladly,” he responds, motioning for you to stand up. You do, hesitantly, and he walks over to a small hill at the edge of the park, walking up it and expecting you to follow.
“What are we doing?” you ask, cautiously taking steps to reach the top. “Look there,” Jae points across the street, where street lights illuminate a rather empty street, with a small alley just within your line of sight. “Just wait, this won’t take long,” he says, holding his characteristically smug smile as he leans his weight against a tree.
You frown as you turn your attention back to the street, looking around for anything you’re supposed to be noticing but aren’t, but you don’t notice anything in particular of importance. On top of that, your mind is at war with itself, one part scolding you for really following along with this, while the other demands you see it through so you can put any doubts about Chan’s character to rest.
“There we go,” Jae says enthusiastically as two figures appear on the street walking next to each other, one man that you don’t recognize and one that you definitely do- Chan.
“What is this?” you ask, not sure what’s so critically important about watching Chan walk the street with some guy you don’t know. “You’ll see, just don’t take your eyes off him,” Jae responds, pointing forward and urging you to not look away for even a moment.
The pair step into the alley, and while there’s no light to illuminate them fully when they’re off the main street, you can still see them well enough. They’re talking, you think, calmly at first, but then it becomes more animated, with the stranger becoming increasingly more expressive with his arms and hands.
He’s.. panicked? He takes a step back, trying to put distance between himself and Chan, but then it happens- a punch thrown, by none other than Chan himself. He hits the man hard, and he crumples to the ground instantly, arms coming up to protect his head after he’s hit the floor.
That should be it, you think, but no, it continues, with Chan throwing punch after punch, unrelenting. You can hear the main cry out in pain now, his voice carrying easily to you in the otherwise silent area. You don’t understand- what is Chan doing? You’ve never seen him like this, but surely there’s a reason, right?
Chan reaches into the man's pockets now, fishing for something, and he finds it soon enough- his wallet. You watch in disbelief as Chan takes the money and shoves it in his own pocket, throwing the wallet back at the man as if it’s worthless now. When he emerges from the alley, it’s even worse- you can see the blood on his knuckles, can see how it drips down to the ground, evidence that there was no mistake in what you saw.
“Chan!” Jae calls out enthusiastically, rushing down the hill to make his way to him, “Thanks for the show!” Chan looks visibly surprised to see Jae running up to him, but then sighs, rolling his eyes as Jae approaches him.
You move down the hill hesitantly, not sure if Chan has noticed you’re here too, but hoping for some kind of explanation. “Why were you watching?” You can hear Chan question as you start to get to the bottom of the hill.
“What, can’t a guy watch? It’s entertaining seeing a shitty guy get what's comin’ to him,” Jae answers and Chan scoffs before he holds his hand out to Jae, clearly waiting to be given something. “Ironic coming from you. But whatever, I did what you asked, so just pay me so we can get out of here.”
“Yeah, yeah, good doin’ business with you and shit,” Jae smiles as he reaches into his pocket, putting a large stack of bills into Chan’s hand. Jae looks back at you then, who is still standing across the street at the bottom of the park’s hill, confusion and disbelief threatening to rip your brain apart as it tries to make sense of everything.
“There you go princess, all the proof you need,” he says with a smirk; he accomplished exactly what he was hoping to- anything you had with Chan is ruined. Chan is clearly confused, and follows Jae’s gaze straight to you, who he realizes just witnessed the entire exchange. His face changes in an instant when his eyes meet yours, blood draining from his face and eyes going wide.
Jae says something to him then, but he says it so low that you can’t hear it, and Chan’s gaze remains fixed on you, as if Jae isn’t even there anymore. “Well, I’ll leave you two to sort this out. And don’t worry about the guy in the alley, he’s a good friend of mine so I’ll get him home,” he says in a smug tone, clearly happy with the situation he’s created.
“Fuck you Jae,” you bite as you shove past him, rushing up to Chan who has begun to hurriedly step away from the scene. You hear Jae laugh behind you, but you ignore it, fixed on your goal. You need to talk to Chan. “Chan, please wait!” you call to him, doing your best to keep up with him despite how much faster he is than you.
You know what happened just now is wrong, that whatever is going on with him is bad, but you need to hear him tell you why he’s doing it, you need to know what’s going through his head. “Chan-” you’re about to plead again but he stops, allowing you to catch up with him.
He slowly turns to you, hesitant to meet your gaze even as you look up at him. Fuck, he felt so stupid. How could he believe you'd never find out about his secret life? How could he believe that one day you'd be with him happily?
He was so incredibly naive, and he hated it, hated how he had tricked himself into believing he could have normalcy and happiness with someone else. Who was he kidding? There was no way he'd ever be allowed to live a life like that.
“..I need to call Changbin, and then I’ll take you home,” he says lowly as he takes his phone out of his pocket, and you watch as he puts some distance between you, not trying to get away from you but just far enough to have as private of a conversation with Changbin as he can.
“Hey hyung, what’s up?” Changbin’s voice comes through jovially on the other end, but he can tell immediately something is wrong when all he hears is a shaky exhale as Chan tries to find the words. “Hyung, what’s wrong?” A million possibilities race through Changbin’s mind; he knows what Chan does for extra cash, and he knows the dangers that can come from it.
He’s trying not to assume the worst, but fuck, whatever happened must be bad if Chan is choked up on the other end. “I’m gonna be late coming home tonight. I, uh.. I need to take Y/N home. She’s with me,” Chan says and Changbin is quiet for a moment as he processes the information he was given. “I thought you had a job tonight, though. Are you saying..?”
“Yeah, she saw me,” Chan interjects, not even needing to let Changbin finish his question. “Fuck, okay, just.. Take your time, alright? Don’t rush to come home, we’re fine. I’ll let the others know you'll be out a while, just take care of Y/N.”
“Yeah, I will.. Thanks, I’ll see you later,” Chan mutters into the phone before he hangs up, stuffing it back into his pocket and taking another shaky breath before he turns back to you. “Chan-” you start when you see him walking back over to you, but he quickly cuts you off.
“Let’s get you home, I didn’t park my car too far from here,” he says tersely, walking briskly towards the end of the street. You frown, but decide not to dwell on it too much; you can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now, and the last thing you want to do is make the situation even worse than it already is.
You follow him swiftly, trying not to be concerned about the silence between you. It doesn’t take long for you to see his car, parked in a nearby empty parking lot, the only car in sight. Chan doesn’t drive much, his car basically reserved strictly for work and emergencies, so you’ve only been in it a handful of times.
You wonder now though if this is the reason he only uses it when he has to– do police know his license plate? You don’t know if you’re ready to find out the answer to that question.
When you reach his car, he unlocks it wordlessly, and you both enter quietly, neither of you uttering a single thing even as he starts the engine and pulls onto the street. You want to try talking to him again but you aren't sure if you should even try yet; he's very clearly upset but if he's not ready to talk about it yet then there's nothing you can do.
Truthfully, Chan desperately wants to say something, hating the silence he was subjecting you to, but found himself at a loss for words and stuck in his own head. Jae's words before he walked away rang in his mind over and over again. "If you think a good girl like her can fall in love with trash like you, you're pathetic." And it was true, he was pathetic.
It was pathetic to pretend he could have a better life than this. Pathetic to think you would always be with him. Pathetic to think anything about him was worthy of love. What kind of happy life was he hoping for when this is what his life was truly like?
He knew there was no easy way out of this kind of shit once you entered it, but at the time he really had no choice. He tried everything else possible and there was nothing left; and even with how dangerous he knew it could be he was resolved to see it through because when he began he was just a kid in desperate need of cash at any cost.
He wishes things could be different now. He didn't want you to ever see this side of his life, to see the kinds of things he had to do to afford all of the things a person needs to survive. And while the rational part of Chan's brain was telling him there was no way you'd just walk away or hate him, it was overpowered by the wave of self loathing washing over him.
Because even if you didn't hate him after this, could you love him? Could you even still look at him the same way you could just last week, when you gave him that bright smile you always did. Would you still want to confide in him? To rely on him? To let him rely on you? He doesn’t know if you realized it, but Chan has come to rely on you a lot.
Not in the overt ways like asking for help or opening up about his deepest thoughts, which he only did on occasion, but in the normalcy you offered him. In your presence, Chan felt like the life he wanted was attainable, like he could leave all the bad behind him and have something good.
You were always there to distract him from the life he led privately, to give him a sense of peace. He could be comfortable around you, and allow himself to relax. He could be carefree and live in the moment instead of being stressed about what the future held for him. He could forget about all his regrets just from seeing you smiling up at him.
Late at night when insomnia was gripping him, he would look over your messages fondly and wonder what it would be like to share a bed one day. For you to be next to him on his worst nights and help lull him into a peaceful sleep that he wasn't normally rewarded. To kiss you awake and bask in how beautiful you’d be naked with the morning sun glowing around you.
To Chan, any chance of that future with you was taken away the moment you saw the ugly truth of his life. Even if by some miracle you decided you still wanted to be around him, he knew it wouldn't be the same. There was no way your view of him wouldn't be tainted after this.
You'd become strained, being pulled away from each other little by little until nothing was left of the friendship you once held, or of the feelings he'd hoped to admit to you when he was able to leave behind the things that bound him. He should just leave your life now, before things get even worse; the pain he'd have to endure if he held on now would become unbearable.
You'd distance yourself from him, you'd meet a good guy who actually deserves you and fall in love, you'd forget all about him.. And that's how it should be. You deserved better than him; he knew he had nothing of worth to offer you.
And he was sure in response you'd bring up how he was there for you and supported you, but anyone could do that. That was the bare minimum of a relationship. What did he have to offer you other than support? There was nothing he could think of that felt good enough or like he was worthy of anyone's time, much less yours.
It was better to get the heartbreak over with now.. it would hurt, but much less so than if he prolonged the process. He needed to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with for both your sakes. He couldn't delay the inevitable.
You felt stiff, the silence deafening as he drove you to your dorm. You couldn't tell what Chan was feeling anymore, his face completely void of anything, as if he turned his emotions off entirely. You didn't know what to do; he cut you off when you tried to speak to him earlier, and now it seemed like anything you said now wouldn't reach him. It was as if he was running on autopilot, like he wasn't truly there with you anymore.
It didn't take all that long to reach your street given that you were traveling by car, and you felt dread welling in your gut. You wanted to talk to him, to tell him you know he must have his reasons, that you understand that life is cruel and he's probably just doing what he has to, to tell him you understand why he didn't tell you but that you want to hear him out and be there for him regardless. You were approaching your dorm now, and you turned to look at him once again.
He was so close but felt so far away, his face remaining devoid of emotion. His gaze didn't meet yours, instead he stared straight ahead at the street even after he parked, as if purposely avoiding your eyes. "Chan.." you start again, hoping he'll finally respond to you. You see him swallow and his hands tense up, clutching the steering wheel tighter now.
His lower lip begins to tremble, but he tells himself he can't give in. This is what is best for you, he's sure of it. Just rip the bandaid off now, it'll be better that way. He can't make your life worse if he steps away now. He can't give himself false hope if he lets you go now. "Chan, I–" "Just go inside," he cuts you off, the pain evident in his voice despite how hard he's trying to mask it.
"But I–" "Don't. Please don't. Just go." Tears well in your eyes, but you obliged, feeling like now isn't the time to push him on anything. Chan doesn't watch as you exit the car, nor does he acknowledge the way you look back at him one last time before you enter your dorm.
It's better this way. It's better this way. It's better this way. He lowers his head to the steering wheel, resting his forehead against his shaking hands. And for the first time in years, he really cries, knowing that you'll never look at him the same again.
You woke up the next morning with the hopes that Chan was ready to talk to you. You texted him when you were in bed last night, telling him that you care about him and that you just want to talk to him, but he left you with no response.
You reasoned with yourself that he’d need more time; Jaehyung unveiling Chan’s deepest secret to you must have shaken him far more than you can imagine, and it makes sense that he’d need time to process.
Chan led an undeniably hard life, you knew that well at this point; he lost his parents young, his adoptive family were terrible to him, and he dropped out and left them behind to try to make it on his own. He never shared any details about the things he had to do as a child to get by, just leaving it at simple statements that offered no further context.
And you weren’t deluded into expecting anything from him; regardless of details he did or didn’t share, you knew he had been through a lot and you weren’t going to ask anything of him that he wasn’t prepared to offer up himself.
You figured that one day, when Chan had grown comfortable enough and was assured that you were a safe person to share the details of his life with, he’d break down his barriers on his own. All you had to do was be there for him, be consistent with your words and actions, and offer him a safe space to be his authentic self; whatever that self may be.
And while this wasn’t the outcome you had expected, you hoped that all your efforts up until now had shown him that you were someone he could trust. You weren’t going to judge him, you weren’t going to abandon him, your opinion of him hadn’t changed with the truth. And you told him as much through messages, hoping that when he read them that he’d believe your words.
When he didn’t respond you were saddened, but it had only been a few hours since everything took place so you didn’t fault him. You were sure he just needed time, and you didn’t want to put any further pressure on him when he was clearly upset, so instead you just offered kind words to assure him everything was okay.
However, as the days passed on, you began to lose hope that he’d ever respond. You did your best to stop the sadness encroaching in your heart, telling yourself that there could be a ton of reasons he isn’t speaking to you right now. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, there was surely a reasonable explanation.
His life didn’t revolve around you after all, and a small break in communication shouldn’t linger over you like this. You continued to comfort yourself with rational explanations as you went about your days, hoping with all your heart that you weren’t just deluding yourself.
Felix, who saw you most days due to your routine of coming into the cafe he worked at, could see the toll it was taking on you to have Chan not talk to you. He didn’t even know what exactly happened; Changbin said the two of you had a tiff, but that it should resolve itself after a bit since the two of you cared so much about each other.
But as time went on, with Chan so distant and holed up in his room unless he was working, he wasn’t so sure that whatever went on between you was something minor. And then when you stopped in one morning, you confirmed what Felix already feared; that Chan’s isolation didn’t extend to just them, but to you as well.
He wasn’t replying to any of your texts, and that made Felix’s concern for the two of you grow tenfold. So he talked about it with the others in the house, and the 3 of them agreed that you should come over to try and make whatever happened right. And besides, all of you were friends, so it only made sense to facilitate a resolution between you.
They ask you over on a friendly pretense; it’s been a while since you all hung out together, and some fun seemed like it was much needed. You were nervous given the state of your friendship with Chan, but ultimately agreed because you really did miss them as well.
Changbin was the one to answer the door when you arrived at their house, smiling and easing your anxiety by making casual conversation with you. Hyunjin and Felix smiled as well when they saw you, greeting you warmly and offering you hugs before you sat down on the couch.
Hyunjin sat next to you, while Changbin and Felix sat on the chairs nearby. “Is Chan here?” you asked, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you glanced toward the stairs. “Not yet, but he will be soon! While we wait, we should figure out dinner. Anything you want?” Felix suggests and you smile as you nod, feeling comforted by the fact that you have such good friends.
Chan walks into the house not much later, freezing up once further inside and seeing you sitting there with his brothers. “Hey hyung, we’re just ordering some food before we have a movie night! You should join us,” Felix smiles, hoping that once Chan sees you all together, he can put aside whatever made him so upset and can go back to how things were before.
Your heart breaks when you look at him, noticing that his dark circles are worse than before, hurt by the knowledge that he must’ve lost even more sleep than he already does, and it’s all your fault. He avoids your gaze, looking instead at his brothers; he knew this was bound to happen, you became friends with them just as much as him, after all.
And while Changbin knew the real reason behind Chan’s distance from you, the other 2 didn’t, so of course they’d invite you over to the house and try to rebuild the bridge that he’d burnt. But he couldn’t take it; the way all of you stared at him, expecting something from him.
You swallow, trying your best not to cry as you look at him, waiting for him to say something to ease all the sadness and anxiety within you. “..No, thanks,” he mutters, going quickly up the stairs and straight to his room, the sound of his door closing clearly heard once he’s reached it. Dejection settles in your gut, your heart shattering into more pieces than you could possibly count.
Changbin, who is sitting directly across from you, is the first to see your crestfallen expression, and he tries to offer you words of consolation, but you can barely even hear them. You stare down at your lap, trying to blink away the tears that welled in your eyes. Would he never speak to you again? Did you irreparably damage his trust in you? Why wouldn’t he say anything to you?
He was the first person in your life to ever see what Jae was doing to you and help, and he brought with him the kindest people you had ever known. He supported you through your tears, he protected you from the people who wanted to hurt you most.
He listened to you as you talked about your life's worries, even when it was something silly like not wanting to do the night's homework. Chan became a constant in your life, truly living up to his promise to be there for you during any and everything, both good and bad. And now that same person was pulling away from you for reasons you couldn’t understand.
The tears begin pouring before you can even try to stop them, falling to your lap and darkening the fabric of your pants where they fall. Hyunjin notices right away, and pulls you into a hug, trying his best to comfort you by assuring you that nothing happening was your fault.
“It is my fault,” you choke out between sobs, burying your face in Hyunjin’s shoulder as sobs escape you. Felix quickly moves in next to you as well, rubbing your back and offering just as much kindness as his brother.
Changbin’s expression turns into a grimace as he listens to you sniffle and sob, how you blame yourself for everything that was happening despite his brother’s best efforts to calm your aching heart. What the fuck is Chan doing?
Felix watches him stand, a look of concern painted on his features; nothing good happens when Changbin is angry. “I’ll be back,” he says with irritability clear in his voice, stepping away from the chair and to the stairs.
He reaches Chan’s bedroom door in a matter of seconds, trying the door knob without hesitation and is pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. Good, so he didn’t have to pound at the door and make him come out then. He opens it swiftly, met with the sight of Chan simply sitting on his bed, doing not much of anything.
Chan frowns as he turns to his now open door, but isn’t all that surprised at this turn of events. He knew one of them would confront him eventually, and Changbin wasn’t one to hold his tongue if something was on his mind. It was only a matter of time before Chan got what he was anticipating.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Changbin questions, wasting no time at getting straight to the point. Chan expected that Changbin wouldn’t waste any time dancing around the subject, but he still wasn’t prepared to unearth the extent of his self loathing.
Was he really going to admit how pathetic he felt out loud? Admit to how much he hated himself? Admit to how he felt unworthy of anyone’s time? The silence only served to spur on Changbin’s annoyance, and he crosses his arms as he steps closer to Chan. “Are you really not going to say anything?”
Chan looks up at Changbin from his seat, meeting his accusatory gaze. “It’s better this way.” he says and Changbin scoffs in response, clearly finding his answer unsatisfactory. “Oh yeah? Y/N crying her eyes out because you refuse to acknowledge her is better?”
Chan’s heart squeezes in his chest at hearing that you’re crying, but he still knew it was for the best. After the initial pain she’ll move on and forget about me like she should. She shouldn’t want someone like me. She shouldn’t support someone like me. I have nothing. I am nothing.
“Yeah, it’s better.” Chan manages to force the words out. “What about what you promised her? Are you going to sit around and do nothing if Jae targets her again?” Changbin’s voice raises, not quite a yell but still louder than his previous speaking tone.
“She still has you and the others.” Chan frowns as he answers. It’s not like he was leaving you completely alone and defenseless; his friends were your friends too now, and he knew they wouldn’t let anything happen to you.
“We’re not the ones she wants,” Changbin nearly shouts, and Chan tenses at this, the statement clearly striking a chord in him. “That’s the whole problem! I shouldn’t be the one she wants!” Chan shouts suddenly as he stands from his bed now, seemingly unable to control the sudden outburst.
He freezes after realizing he just said what he was thinking out loud for Changbin to hear; now he knows how pathetic and cowardly he truly is, and there would be no taking it back. Changbin’s brows furrow in bewilderment as he stares at Chan.
He understood that what Chan did to make money has risks, and he understood why he wouldn’t want you to be a part of that. What he couldn’t understand was why Chan was shutting you out now that you knew about it. Why was he needlessly subjecting you to pain when, in his opinion, you could simply talk it out?
From Changbin’s perspective, everything would be okay. You clearly didn’t think negatively of him after the reveal, you were still seeking him out and wanting to be near him regardless of what you’d found out about him. And even if you did harbor some ill feeling about it that Changbin couldn’t notice, you were at least trying.
You weren’t going to let something you cared about go over a single event, unlike Chan, who was acting like a fucking coward right now. He was throwing everything away, and for what? He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.
“You’re being a fucking idiot,” Changbin scowls. “You just don’t understand,” Chan counters and Changbin scoffs at the statement. “Then make me understand. What am I not getting here? I’d love to know.” Changbin challenged him, words dripping with frustration.
You don’t understand that she’s too good for trash like me. What is there to love about me? What can I offer her that couldn’t be given by someone else? What kind of life can we live together with the things I've done? She’s smart, ambitious, beautiful..
She can strive for better life and a better person. Someone with high aspirations. Someone who has a better education. Someone who didn’t lead a dangerous life and could put her in danger just by association.
But instead of saying all that he just averts his gaze, stepping down from Changbin’s challenge without a word. “Fine then, you can have fun with your pity party by yourself, cause I’m not staying to watch it,” Changbin bites as he swiftly turns his back to Chan, preparing to leave his room.
“You may be willing to treat a promise like it’s nothing, but don’t expect the rest of us to be okay with it.” He leaves as soon as he’s finished, slamming Chan’s door behind him as he goes.
Right. This is what he deserves. To have nothing and no one, just like before. Because why should he have anything good after what he’s done? He wanted to be the good person you saw him as, but he just isn’t.
He’s the worst kind of hypocrite, his virtue circumstantial and fleeting. The good things he did for the people he cared about didn’t cancel out all the bad that came before it, forever staining him no matter how many layers he scrubbed.
He tried to comfort himself by saying he did it because he had to, because he had no other choice and couldn’t afford to live otherwise, but did it matter? Could he say he lived a life his parents would be proud of? No, but you made him want to try.
And he was trying, so, so hard; to leave all that bad shit behind, to be someone worth caring about, to be better. But there are some things that never change, some things that can’t be left behind or escaped from no matter what you do, and he supposes this is just another reminder of that lesson.
The weeks that followed Chan’s refusal to see you were easily the most painful of your life. You’d never experienced a heartbreak like this before, any pain you thought you felt before paling in comparison to the utter anguish you felt from the loss of Chan in your life.
At least before, when you had become distant and separated from friends, you still had contact; you could message each other freely, you could meet up during school breaks or even weekends if time permitted, you still had your bond despite being in different places. But with Chan, it felt like he burnt every bridge he ever had with you.
You gave up trying to talk to him all together, letting the amount of messages you’d send in a day fizzle more and more, until they inevitably reached zero. In your daily life, you still had the others, but it didn’t feel the same; you felt like an intruder now, like you were encroaching on their space.
You felt like you would just cause strife by being there, so eventually you stopped accepting invitations to hang out with them. Even when you saw them away from the house, you couldn’t meet their smiles the way you once had, because all it did was deepen the ache in your heart.
You wanted to appreciate it, to thank them for trying to keep your friendship alive, but every time it just served as a reminder that Chan wouldn't be there for you anymore. You also felt at fault for causing a rift between them.
Though you stopped staying around the group pretty soon after Chan made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you, you could tell things weren’t the same between them anymore. Changbin especially always seemed to be upset with him, calling him an idiot or a coward, making his distaste for what happened well known.
Hyunjin would continue to assure you that nothing was your fault, that Chan just had complicated feelings to work through, but despite his words, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling at fault regardless. If Chan had never helped you in the first place that day he saw Jae on you, their friendship wouldn’t be in this state.
If you were a stronger person back then, someone who could handle things by herself, then he wouldn’t have had to step in. And now even Felix makes an effort to comfort you all the time, going as far as to give you an extra cookie and discounting your coffee whenever you’re in his cafe.
They always showed you just how kind they were, compassionate beyond words and so patient (well, maybe except Changbin, who definitely was not patient.) Truly, you admired them, and Chan above all, who they credited for bringing them together and making them who they are in the first place.
But now that same person who you had quickly grown to admire so much was avoiding you on all fronts, leaving you with nothing else to do but move on or wait for him to come to terms with whatever he was struggling with.
And truthfully you didn’t want to move on, but waiting wasn’t becoming any easier. Despite the fact that he was within reach, there was nothing you could do. Every glimpse you caught of him or reminder of his absence from his friends left your heart aching in your chest.
Before you realize it, your last class of the day has ended, and you sigh as you look down at your nonexistent notes. You found it difficult lately to focus on your work with your mind cycling through all its thoughts about Chan.
You used to find an escape in your school work; even if everything was crashing around you, you could pour your energy into your work, and find some satisfaction with the good grades you got in exchange for your efforts. But now even that was difficult for you, and you sighed as you knew you’d have to play catch up in your spare time if you wanted to maintain your grades.
It was the first time in your life you’d ever felt so inadequate; even though it was merely a stress induced performance loss, it still tanked the confidence you had in your ability to succeed, which was the last thing you needed to add to your growing list of problems.
Your only saving grace at this point was that Changbin agreed to help you out, and that your professors were gracious enough to let you re-do assignments or get in some extra credit (which they only did because of the good track record you had before your personal life tanked.)
Truthfully, you felt terrible requesting Changbin’s help to catch back up in your classes, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He thankfully agreed to study away from the house so you wouldn’t risk seeing Chan, and having your heart shatter again after having just managed to start picking up the pieces.
You text him now that your class has ended to make sure the study session is still on, and with his confirmation, you decide it’d be a good idea to head back to your room and prepare to meet up with him. It takes you no more than 15 minutes to get back to the dorms from where your last class was, and you spend a decent amount of time cramming your bag full of all the textbooks and supplementary materials you’ll need for the evening.
The plan was to study together at Sunshine Cafe, where the two of you could sprawl your belongings out on one of the coffee tables towards the back and sit on the comfort of the couch, while Felix would provide you with snacks and drinks to get you through the brain overload you’d certainly begin to feel.
It’ll still be some time before Changbin meets up with you given that your class schedules don’t entirely align, but it’d still be good to head out and get some self study in until he gets there. And you could really use a change in secenery given that all you've done lately is go to you classes and then straight back to your dorm when they were over.
Once assured you have everything you need tucked in your bag, you sling it over your shoulders, letting your roommates know you might not be home till late before you head out. Walking to the cafe with all the extra weight on your back and shoulders certainly isn’t pleasant, but you’ll just have to deal with it if you want to make sure you do well on your catch-up assignments and upcoming exams.
And all in all, you actually feel pretty good right now; your friendship with Chan and emotional state might be in shambles, but at least you’re trying your best to pick yourself back up, and that’s what matters most, right?
But all that positivity you feel is drained in an instant, when at the end of the street you’re on, you see Jae standing right in your path, looking at you with a smile once he notices you’re there. You curse, knowing you still have a few blocks to traverse before you reach your destination, and that anything could happen in the time it takes to get there.
He starts to approach you, smirking as he does- you don’t know what he has planned when he reaches you, but you don’t want to find out. Did he know that Chan stopped being there for you? Does he think that now that Chan is out of your life he can do whatever he wants? Or was it a cruel coincidence that he saw you here, a coincidence that he now plans on taking advantage of?
You still have the others, but it’s extremely possible that Jae either doesn’t know, doesn’t care, or is willing to risk it now that Chan being out of the picture takes away one of his biggest threats. There’s a slight hope that maybe he just wants to say something, rubbing salt in your wound by saying “I told you so,” and then he’d go on his way, but the look in his eyes tells you otherwise.
He has the same insidious look you saw every day when you were in school together, the twisted delight in his eyes that told you whatever you were in for wouldn’t be pleasant. You quickly turn the other direction, ducking into a side street you’d passed moments prior, hoping that you can either use the side streets to make it to the cafe or make Jae lose sight of you.
If you were lucky, you’d make it there with no problems, and Felix could shelter you in the cafe until Jae left on his own or Changbin showed up and made him leave. You hear Jae’s laugh behind you, and you panic as you notice that he’s catching up to you much quicker than you’d hoped, the weight of your countless textbooks and study materials definitely not doing you any favors.
Shit- what do you do now? It becomes increasingly apparent that Jae catching up to you is inevitable, and there is nowhere for you to turn to escape him. As quickly as you can, you grab your phone from out of your bag, hoping that Jae doesn’t realize what you’re doing.
You needed to call Chan; you weren’t even sure if he’d uphold the promise he made to you at this point, but what other hope did you have? Chan was the person who said he’d always answer if you called him, and you wanted to believe that. No, you had to believe that.
Not wasting any further time thinking about it, you send Chan a ping of your location before promptly pressing the call button on his name, haphazardly shoving your phone back in your bag and praying that Jae doesn’t notice as thing when he reaches you.
Chan frowned as he sat on his couch, once again thinking about you despite his best efforts to get you off his mind. Despite how much he knew it was best to detach himself from you, he still found himself unable to do so easily.
Maybe it was his underlying selfishness that didn’t want to let you go, or that his feelings for you had just grown far too much to be quashed, but he couldn’t help but continue to worry about you every day. He felt stupid being so upset about a decision he made, that he truly felt was the right thing to do, but the right decisions are never the easy ones, or so the saying goes.
But still, the gnawing feeling continued to eat away at him day after day. ”You’re seeing Y/N today right?” he couldn’t help himself from asking Changbin before he left for the day, and he rolled his eyes, giving Chan an incredulous look.
“So you care all of a sudden, huh? Heard me talking about it with Felix? Yeah, we’re meeting up when my classes are over. But don’t worry,” Changbin says with a mildly sarcastic tone before he continues, “I’ll do a good job of looking after her since you won’t.”
Chan frowned at Changbin’s tone, but he knows it isn’t entirely undeserved given the circumstances. You’re their friend too after all, and he wouldn’t talk kindly to this either if the roles were reversed and it was someone else doing this to you.
“Binnie-hyung is still giving you a hard time, I see,” Hyunjin said as he stepped in from the kitchen, sitting next to Chan with his breakfast in hand. Chan just sighed in response, closing his eyes and letting his head hit the back of the couch.
Was he really doing the right thing or was he just deluding himself into thinking so? Even putting aside the fact that he hasn’t loved himself a day in his life, isn't it just objectively true that you should want nothing to do with him? He knows you care about him, but it’s not exactly uncommon for good people to put their love in the wrong places, and Chan is definitely one of those wrong places.
“It’s not too late to make up with Y/N if you want to, you know,” Hyunjin spoke carefully, hoping that at the very least Chan would openly admit and talk about what went so wrong instead of keeping everything so bottled up inside.
Time passed, and for a moment Hyunjin thought Chan wouldn't say anything at all, before he suddenly spoke up. “I.. don’t know about that. I’m not sure if I even want her to forgive me.”
“Why not?” Hyunjin asked, taken aback by the admission. Chan sighed again, self-doubt and anxiety making their presence obvious as they always did when he was dealing with complicated emotions. Truth be told, there was a lot of lingering doubt about his reaction towards you that Chan was scared to confront.
Should he stop being so stubborn and talk to you or should he be assured in his decision and maintain his distance? He heard multiple times that he was an idiot for detaching himself in the first place (mostly from Changbin, who was the most outspoken with this thoughts), and though he felt like it was the right decision at the time given all his faults and self-doubt, he couldn’t fight the way he missed being around you every day.
He knew how much it would hurt to separate himself from you, but it’s what felt right at the time given the tirade of self-hatred that told him he had to. He knew the guys didn't agree, and he knew it hurt you just as much as it hurt him, but how was he supposed to explain to everyone how much he hated himself?
How much he loved you but knew he would just hold you back? You deserved better than to fall in love with a criminal for hire with no future ambitions. You deserved better than someone who was just coasting through life until the day no one needed him anymore and left him behind.
Not to mention that the only ones who knew the full extent of what he did in secrecy were Changbin, Minho, and now you. And he would've been okay with anyone else finding out the depths of terrible deeds, anyone of the other people he cared about but you. Just not you, anyone but you.
He used to not think at all about what it would be like to fall in love with someone; he assumed he could just figure it all out when the day came, even if it was years down the line. His mental health was in the gutter and life was hard, but when isn’t it? Aren’t most people unhappy?
Besides, he still had his friends, and that was good enough for him. And he didn’t want it to sound like he was never happy, or always miserable, but it wasn't until he spent more and more time with you that he realized how much he yearned for a deeper connection with someone.
Sure, being with his brothers made him happy, and the time he spent with them was valuable and irreplaceable to him, but what would happen in the future when they had their own lives? He barely sees half of them anymore, and soon the other half will move on too, following their dreams, meeting more and more new people, making new friends and building families.
And what would Chan have at the end of it all? Nothing, he had come to realize. He would have absolutely nothing.
No goals, no ambitions, and nothing to offer other than the bare minimum. And he knew you well enough now to know you would say that it's enough, but he just couldn't agree; to Chan, it was nowhere near enough for you, enough for anyone.
Becoming your friend opened his eyes to how many mistakes he’d been making, made him confront the reality that feelings and wants you bury deep down will always resurface, and he knew he couldn’t avoid all the things he’d been trying to anymore.
A lifetime’s worth of sadness, more regrets than he could count on his fingers, and a longing for connection with someone who would love him as he was, faults and all, and help him become better. He had that chance with you, and he blew it.
And then, instead of trying to make it right, he retreated back into the very shell he tried so hard to break out of. Instead of putting out the fire that had grown, he watched it burn, telling himself it was better to let everything become ash than risk the burns he would suffer from trying to salvage what little he had.
In the end, it’s all excuses. He didn’t want to face the fact that he was scared, or admit how little his self-worth he really has. So he fled the scene, and when he was called out, his arguments rang hollow, because even Chan himself knew how little his words could actually be believed.
It was true that Chan didn’t believe he deserved anything good, but maybe it was okay to let people care about him regardless. Maybe he needed them to, so that he could finally allow himself to be happy.
And so he talked to Hyunjin; he told him everything, about what he did, how he felt then and how he feels now, and about how much it hurts to be away from you when he’s so fucking obviously in love with you but feels too worthless to be around you. It was a lot of information to take in, but Hyunjin was truly happy he was finally doing something that was long overdue.
Chan had spent so much of his life avoiding his feelings and keeping his thoughts to himself, that Hyunjin expected him to dance around it, but he hadn’t. It was proof of the positive effect you had on him, evidence that Chan needed you even more than you thought you needed him.
Chan didn’t cry, though he certainly felt like he would at times, and Hyunjin truly was proud of him. Sure, he learned some things about Chan that definitely came as a shock, but he had hope that once Chan was done processing all his complicated feelings and getting himself out of the bad shit he no longer wanted to associate with, the two of you could go back to the friendship you once had.
He’d left Chan alone after that, citing that he had commissions to work on, though really he just thought it would do Chan some good to have some time to himself. He needed to let his thoughts and feelings settle, and hopefully get another step closer to reconnecting with you.
Chan himself was still on the couch, thinking a lot about what he should do going forward. Why did everything always have to be so complicated? He’s there for a while, cycling between various thoughts related to you and his feelings, when his phone suddenly buzzes from within his pocket.
He pulls it out, immediately being met with a message from you, the first you've sent in weeks. But it’s… your location? You’ve never sent him it before, and the fact that you did so without any other context spreads worry through him.
And before he can even react to receiving the message, a call comes through, caller ID clearly displaying your name. Out of all the time you'd known him, this was the first time you were actually calling him. He swallows before he answers, nervous as all hell but knowing he shouldn’t hesitate if you need help.
“Hello..?” Chan answers carefully, unsure if he should speak at full volume until he knows what kind of situation you’re in. His hand immediately clenches around his phone when he hears Jae’s voice clearly taunting you on the other end; it’s muffled, your phone’s speaker clearly blocked by something, but the voice Chan hears is unmistakable.
He curses under his breath as he moves the phone from his face to mute himself, not wanting to accidentally make Jae aware that you managed to call him. Chan refused to risk Jae finding out and ending the call before he can find out what exactly he’s doing to you.
"Aww, crying already?" he hears Jae's voice patronizing you. Chan scowls, fully aware that there’s no time to waste. He gets his shoes on as quickly as possible, sprinting out of his front door and rushing down the street in a matter of seconds.
The location you sent him is on a side street not all too far away from the house, and he hopes that Jae hasn’t dragged you too far away from the spot you sent him. The city is huge when you’re in the heart of it after all, and there would be more possibilities than Chan can count as to where you would be if you’re no longer there.
He runs as fast as his feet can possibly carry him, not wanting to waste even a single second in getting to you, or give Jae the opportunity to do something terrible. He holds the phone to his ear even as he runs, desperate for a sign that you’re doing okay despite whatever situation you’ve been put in.
“Chan taking you away from me really pissed me off. I like you a lot, you know,” Jae’s voice comes through the phone again, and his tone makes Chan grit his teeth. He wants to rain absolute hell on Jae, make him regret ever laying a single hand on you, but he knows he likely won’t get that chance.
Making sure you’re okay and getting you away is his priority, and as much as he wants to obliterate Jae, it will have to wait until after he takes care of you. No matter what Jae deserves, no matter how much he hates him, you are his one and only priority right now, and he will protect you.
You stare up at the bright blue sky, eyes fixed on the fluffy, passing clouds above you, and you don’t react. You’re limp against the cold, unforgiving wall you’ve been pressed against, completely numb, blocking out everything around you.
You hear Jae’s voice but his words don’t register, his hand on your body but your skin no longer reacts to what it feels. Your vision has blurred from tears in your eyes that haven’t fallen, but you continue to stare upward, making no effort to blink them away.
You had no words to describe the way you felt; it was a devastation so deep that it turned into nothingness, a void. You knew Chan wasn’t coming to help you and you shouldn’t have hoped for it.
All you did was set yourself up for the worst heartbreak of all, an incomparable feeling of betrayal and hopelessness, the solidification that this was your reality now, and you just had to face it instead of holding onto hope that it would be different.
But despite it all, you can’t really blame Chan for not being here. You knew you were weak, and you knew you were a target, but that isn’t Chan’s fault or responsibility. It must be a burden to worry about you all the time, or annoying that you don’t stand up for yourself nearly as much as you should.
Your few moments of strength get reduced to nothing in mere seconds, and you always revert back to the scared person you’ve always been. And no matter how foolish it is to hope for, all you can think about is how you wish Chan was here.
You hoped he’d be here, hoped he’d reassure you. You wanted to feel his gentle embrace and hear his voice, knowing he’d console you with tender words and a soothing tone. And most of all, you really just missed him, missed him more than anything, so, so much.
The way he smiled at you, the way his expression changed when he was embarrassed or being teased, the way he cared for everyone and everything more than you’d ever think a person capable of. Though he certainly did bad things, his kindness towards you was radiant.
You didn’t want to define him by what you saw, because you knew him beyond that. You knew how sweet he is, how caring he is, how much he wanted to help others. He understood the value in a helping hand and offered it freely to anyone who needed it without a second thought.
You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel anything but compassion for him even with how alone you felt from his absence. Your glimpses into his life allowed you to see him for who he was beyond what his appearance would suggest. You knew there was more to him than you even learned, hidden parts of his past, his life, and his feelings that you hadn’t yet uncovered.
So even when he distanced himself from you, you couldn’t hate him. You knew there was a reason, knew there was something underneath that he was scared to share with you. Chan wasn’t the type to leave someone behind nor break a promise, you refused to believe that he was.
You just wished he was here, wished that he’d share his thoughts and feelings with you. Wouldn’t things turn out differently if he had? You wanted to support him as much as he supported you. You wanted to encourage him and cheer him on.
Even with Jae’s words circling around you and his touch against your skin, your mind was consumed by Chan. At this point you felt you were crying more from his loss than from anything Jae was doing to you. He had just become a catalyst for your feelings to burst, his presence feeling almost nonexistent against the yearning you felt for Chan.
You loved him. Truly, and above all else. And you knew that no matter what, it wouldn’t change. Chan’s presence in your life irrevocably changed you; he supported you when no one else had, and you loved his personality and his endearing smile.
You loved the contrast between his tough exterior and his sweet characteristics. He was simultaneously strong and gentle, both cold and warm, sunshine and rain wrapped into one person. And you loved him, for all that he was.
"Get your fucking hands off her!" You hear Chan's voice shout and you blink in confusion, allowing the tears that were stuck to fall. Is he really here? Or are you in so much pain that now your brain is tricking you, trying to comfort you with a lie? You don’t know, but you welcome it all the same, because even if it is just a trick, it’s the best one you’ll ever be given.
Your body barely registers the feeling of Jae's weight being shifted off of you, Chan's voice having a chokehold on your senses. Your gaze shifts from the sky to the right; you see Jae, who has evidently fallen backwards onto the floor, the left side of his face a stark red from what you assume was an impact.
He’s clearly shocked, but the emotion quickly changes into one of pure hatred directed to the presence left of you. You swallow as you shift your gaze to the left, heart squeezing in your chest when you see Chan, more tears welling in your eyes. He's really here? He really came for you?
Chan's fists are clenched, gaze piercing into Jae with disgust and vitriol. He wants to fucking kill him if he's being honest, but he has to do his best to keep a level head for your sake. He has to get you out of here, keep you safe.
"You ever fucking touch her again, I promise you'll regret it," Chan spits at Jae, stepping closer to him and giving one more punch for good measure, assuring he'll stay down and not follow your exit. "Y/N, don't let go," Chan says as he turns to you, taking your hand in his.
The moment still feels surreal to you, but you do as he says, keeping your grip tight as he runs with you, leading you quickly away from Jae. You run for what feels like ages, but you surprisingly don’t feel tired; must be adrenaline coursing through you, or maybe the emotions you feel right now are preventing you from noticing any sort of ache in your legs.
The next thing you know, you’re at his house, with him leading you up to the safety of his room. You collapse to his bed the minute you’re fully inside, trying to catch your breath after all the running as you still hold tightly to his hand.
“I’m just gonna close the door, okay? I’m not leaving,” he says when he notices the way your hand clings to him when he tries to separate, not wanting to let him go. You hesitate, hand trembling as you hold onto his. Everything still feels unreal, like if you let go he’ll vanish from your sight, and you’ll wake up in the same place you were before, with none of this having happened.
You look at his face, taking in his soft but serious expression. You feel the warmth in his hand, see the care in his eyes, and you know– you’re okay now. You don't have to be scared anymore. So you eventually nod as you let go, watching as he closes the bedroom door before returning swiftly to your side.
He examines you carefully, scowling at the disheveled state of your clothes but overall relieved to see no injury. He steps away for just a moment to rifle through his drawers, pulling out a shirt and handing it carefully to you.
“Here, put this on,” he says, and it prompts you to look down at yourself for the first time. The buttons at the top of your blouse are almost entirely undone, with some buttons completely missing and leaving your bra partially exposed.
You frown at the realization that with the buttons missing you won’t be able to button up your blouse again and it’s effectively ruined, but you’re thankful that Chan is offering you something to wear in its place. He turns his back to you to let you change in peace, and he doesn’t turn back around until you’ve made it clear that you’re done.
“Are you okay..?” he asks softly now as he kneels in front you, eyes fixed straight on you. You meet his gaze, lip trembling as you look at him. You feel overwhelmed, confused, relieved.. Where do you even begin? You look down, swallowing the lump in your throat as more emotion threatens to spill out from your eyes.
"I'm sorry," he breaks the silence, and you look up, blinking away the tears in the corners of your eyes. "I– I should've been there for you. I shouldn't have let that happen to you.. I'm sorry," Chan tells you, voice shaky through his apology.
He feels so fucking guilty. He wished so badly he didn't let the voice in his head affect him, that he didn't self-destruct so badly and drag you down with him. "It's okay," you say, reaching your hand out to grab his, and Chan shakes his head, voice breaking as he talks to you.
"It's not okay, I– I broke my promise to you." "You didn't," you say with a small frown and Chan's brows furrow in response. "Yes I did, I–''
You shake your head, cutting him off with your own words, "Do you remember what you told me when we first became friends? When you put your number in my phone?"
Chan swallows as he thinks back to nearly a year ago, when he found you cornered and vulnerable, Jae tormenting you and expecting to get away with it. "I.. told you to call me," he says after a short moment.
"Call me next time, I'll answer. If you call, I'll hear it. I'll come running," you quote him, the words having engraved themselves in your memory. They were probably small to Chan but they meant so much to you. You'd never experienced such kindness before, such an earnest care for your wellbeing, and from someone that was basically a stranger to you.
That was your proof that he was a good person; someone who deserved kindness and appreciation just as much as anyone else. He was kind, caring, and selfless even to a fault. And you knew Chan didn't believe he was, didn't think anything he did was special but it was.
You want to repay all the care he's shown you, in any way you can. "That was your promise," you continue and Chan's breath hitches in his throat at your words, "I called and you came, just like you said you would, so.. You don't have to apologize. Not for that."
He curses, turning his face away from yours with a small chuckle of disbelief. "I should be the one comforting you right now," he says and you smile softly as you respond. "No matter what you might think, I'd never hate you. Never. And I forgive you." You squeeze his hand in reassurance, trying to convey the sincerity of your words.
"I.. don't think I deserve that," he whispers, swallowing as he tries to control the shakiness in his voice. You're forgiving him this easily? He hasn't earned that, doesn’t deserve it.. You should be furious with him, you should hate him. So why don't you? "I can't think of anyone who deserves it more than you, Chan," You say and his lip trembles, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to embarrass himself by crying in front of you.
He’d grown a thick skin in his life, built his walls sturdy and high– or at least he thought he had. But there you always are, tearing his barriers down so easily, prying open the confines of his heart with the simplest of words and actions. And that's the feeling of love and connection he'd been missing in his life, isn't it? The one he’d be yearning for despite all his doubts and concerns?
All he can think about when he looks at you is how much he hopes you'll always be with him, even if it's just from afar. He wants to protect you, wants to hold you close, wants to laugh with you on good days and support you during the bad.
Even if he never gets the courage to tell you just how much he truly loves you, he'd be happy just being near you. And that’s why he owes it to you to be better, reaffirms his desire, his need, to be honest and open about everything.
“I should.. Be honest with you. About why I was avoiding you,” Chan says after a shaky exhale, and you nod, ready to hear him out. “I was.. Ashamed, when you saw me like that. I never wanted you to see it, you know? I was– I still am, trying to get out of it, and I hoped that when you did know about it, it’d be like.. A thing that happened in my past that you’d never have to worry about. So when you saw it, I just.. I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do, and so I just..”
Oh no. He’s tearing up again, and the empathetic look in your eyes continues to chip at his walls. He almost can't take the way you look at him, the way you hold and squeeze his hand as he speaks, the way your eyes water with his, as if it’s just as emotional for you to experience as it is for him.
It probably is, to be fair; you cared a lot about him, cried a lot because of him, tried countless times to support him even when he was closed off, hesitant and scared to try. He’s still struggling to believe he deserves to receive your compassion and understanding, but he wants to accept it regardless.
He wants to let you care about him, to let you console him, to let you be his comfort, his home. And he’d be that for you, he’d give you back all you gave and more, all to make sure you would never cry because of his actions ever again.
“I just-” Chan tries again, falling short as the words get stuck in his throat. You’re patient though, giving him all the time he needs to collect his thoughts and put the words he wants to say together. “I just.. Everything felt like it was caving in on me."
"When it started I was just a kid desperate for money, you know? No one wants to pay a livable wage to a 16 year old, they think you don’t need it, assume you still got your parents and a cushy bed to go home to. So when the offer came up for me to make some quick, good cash in exchange for a favor, I took it.”
“The favors.. What I’d do depended entirely on the person making the request, but they were never good. Usually it was something the person desperately wanted, but couldn't get their own hands dirty to get, and they look for someone to do it for them under the table. So I got mine dirty in their place, and got paid well doing it. And I truly fucking regret it,” Chan spills it all out for you- the woes of his life, his bad deeds and regrets, all for you to see and judge.
But you don’t judge him; you never would, even if he deserved it. What he said is what you expected– that he wasn’t given a real choice, his circumstances unfair and the world before him too cruel. It hurt your heart to know someone as kind and caring as Chan was forced to do things he hated for money, things that plagued his mind with guilt and tanked his already low self-esteem to new depths.
This wasn’t a case of “ashamed only because he got caught”; his shame and guilt was true, the resentment he felt for himself complexly interwoven with his human nature to survive at all costs. It was a dilemma that no one should have to face, but that he was forced to time and time again. To say it was unfair felt like an understatement, but it was all you had to describe what life had offered him.
And still, you admired him; you hear all the time how the circumstances of one’s life changes them, how good people can only tolerate so much pain before it warps them into someone unrecognizable. But through it all, he was still someone full of compassion, of tenderness, who was doing his best to make amends with himself and make up for what he’s done.
It wasn’t your place to tell anyone to forgive him, nor would you tell anyone affected by his actions that they should. But you hoped that one day Chan could be free of the shackles of that weighed him down, both physically and mentally.
The world doesn’t exist in black and white; good people do bad things, make mistakes, and hurt others, often even without meaning to. What truly makes a person good isn’t whether or not they’ve never hurt someone before– it’s whether or not they’re truly sorry.
No one can exist without making mistakes, without hurting feelings and having theirs hurt in return, the human experience is far too complex and not meant to be perfected. No one is perfect, but imperfection is what allows you to grow.
The things in your life that you regret, that make you feel embarrassed, ashamed, sorry– they make you human. They make you someone worth loving, someone deserving of compassion and empathy.
To be human is to love and forgive, to make mistakes and pick yourself back up and try again to be better, to connect with others and build a life with them that makes you happy and proud to be where you are. And it’s what Chan deserves to have a chance at, just as much as anyone else in the world does.
“You can cry if you need to. I’m here for you, Channie,” you offer, holding your arms out for him to accept a hug if he wants one. It’s a promise, really. A promise that you’ll always be here for him, because he’s the person you love most.
“I might take you up on that,” he says as he accepts your hug, his tone the most light-hearted you’ve heard all evening, but you can tell he’s grateful. He squeezes you close, and you can feel his body start to release all its built up stress as he relaxes against you.
He needed this; needed the reassurance that unconditional love is available to him and obtainable, that happiness was something he was allowed to have, that he wasn’t an irredeemable person doomed to endlessly suffer.
“There’s something else I should tell you,” he says after a few moments, voice soft and a bit timid, his arms still holding you firmly. You hum in acknowledgment, pulling back from his embrace just enough to look at him. “Whenever you’re ready,” you encourage him, and he smiles just a bit before taking a breath to steady himself.
“I love you. And I didn’t want to tell you that until everything was behind me, because I thought you wouldn’t return my feelings if you knew about it. If it was just a part of my past, and not something I was actively involved in anymore, then maybe you could, but– I didn’t think you’d ever love me otherwise, so.. That’s the other reason why I freaked out.. I thought I ruined any chance I had at being with you.”
Oh. Did you hear him right? He loves you? He wanted to be with you? Wants to be with you? Romantically?
“You don’t have to return my feelings, I just.. Wanted you to know, because it played a big part in why I acted like I did to you. You didn’t deserve to be ignored just because I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings, you know?” Chan elaborates, your silence making him increasingly nervous.
God, he hopes you respond soon, even if it's a rejection, because the silence is killing him. “You didn’t ruin your chances,” you finally say, a shy smile on your face that instantly fills Chan with relief. He smiles too, and you settle fully back into his embrace, your head against his chest as your arms hold him close.
You hear the thumping of his heart, the evidence that his feelings for you are indeed real- that he loves you. Maybe this happiness is more than Chan deserves, and maybe you’ll change your mind about him someday, but for now.. He’s happy, and that’s all he could ever ask for.
Chan spent the rest of the evening glued to your side, the two of you only separating from each other if you had to. You canceled your study session with Changbin for the night as well; way too much happened today for you to be able to even remotely focus on school work. He understood completely though, and was more than relieved that you and Chan were talking again.
You had dinner together, all of you, and you finally started to feel like your fractured relationships could be pieced back together. There were still lingering questions, a litany of things to still discuss together, but now that you knew you could, there was a sense of calm you felt; like no matter what happened going forward, everything would be okay because you had each other, and neither of you would let that change again.
Even in a group, your eyes would always unconsciously find their way back to Chan, and he’d smile back at you. Not a big, toothy smile, but a small, soft one– a special one just for you. He loved you, and you felt it; and you knew without a doubt that this is where you belonged. In their group, among the kindest people you’d ever met, with Chan by your side.
When night settled in, he did everything possible to ensure you were comfortable, such as offering you another change of clothes if you wanted it, or to take you home if you’d prefer that. But honestly, you wanted to stay with Chan as long as possible, not just because of your desire to stay at his side, but because of how safe being with him always made you feel.
You always felt secure in his presence, like any problem you had just melted away when he was hugging you or holding your hand. And despite the good turn the day had taken, you could definitely still use his comfort. “Wait,” you called to him when he was going to turn to leave, his plan the same as the other times you stayed the night; he’d be on the couch, while you took the comfort of his bed.
“Did I forget something you need?” Chan asked, quickly surveying the bed; you had plenty of pillows, and you weren’t too in need of blankets given that it was approaching summer now, but he wouldn’t put it outside the realm of possibility to forget something you needed.
“No, it’s not that,” you say, and you can see the gears turning in his head, mild confusion mixed with concern appearing on his features. “What’s wrong then?” he asks carefully, stepping away from the door and back to you.
“I.. want you to stay. Here, with me,” you mutter, shyly looking down at your lap and his face flushes as he tries to blink away the initial shock. “Like.. until you fall asleep, or..?”
“N-No,” you look at him, a bit hesitant to meet his gaze due to your nervousness but doing it anyway, “like.. Sleep with me..?” Fuck. He knows you don’t mean it like that but what the hell, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.
“Are you sure? You won’t be uncomfortable?” Another careful step closer, watching you closely for any sign of hesitation, wanting to make 100% sure that you really want him next to you all night. You nod, scooting to make space for him so he knows you mean it.
He swallows before he crawls in next to you, doing his best to settle in comfortably despite the way his body tenses from laying so close to you. What makes it even worse is that instead of laying with your back facing him like he expected, you’re turned towards him, looking straight at him. He’s never been this close to your face before, and he feels like his heart is going to erupt.
“Don’t need Wolf Chan?” he asks after you’re settled, noting the fact that you don’t have him in your arms as you normally did when you spent the night. “Not when I have you,” you reply, and thank God he turned off the lights before he got into bed with you, because you definitely would’ve seen the blush on his face burn tenfold.
“Chan..” you breathe out, your voice slightly hesitant and tense, and though the room is dark, his eyes have adjusted enough to see you looking at him nervously. “Yeah..?” he asks softly, and carefully you reach out to him, your hand lingering on his arm.
“I want you to promise.. That you’ll keep trying to get away from the people who have you do bad things, and that you won’t do them anymore once you’re out,” you say, eyes still nervous and desperate to find reassurance. That’s exactly what he planned to keep doing anyway, but hearing you say it just reaffirms his choice– he’ll get out of it no matter what, for your sake.
“I promise. You’ll be the first to know too, I promise,” he affirms, and you finally smile, fully believing in him. “I’ll make a promise too! That once everything is settled, I’ll officially be your girlfriend.” Chan chuckles at your statement, pulling you into a hug as he does.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he tells you, smiling at you fondly as he pulls you in closer. “If it’s okay.. Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, and you nod, heart racing in anticipation.
Your first kiss- soft and sweet, his touch light and gentle, your stomach erupting in butterflies. Again, again, and once more, both smiling when you pull back. You’ve never felt so warm, pure elation in your veins as he holds you close.
“I love you,” you tell him as you settle your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and basking in the joy and comfort you feel. “Love you more,” he says, landing a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Goodnight, Y/N, sweet dreams.”
Was it okay for Chan to be this happy? Was it okay to have the things he dreamed of? Regardless of the answer, he was thankful. There were few things in this world that Chan allowed himself to crave selfishly, you being the most primary desire of them all.
Did he deserve you? Maybe not now, but he would someday soon– he’d make sure of that. He’d keep his promises, make sure he became someone worth being around for, someone that you could be proud to say is the person you love.
6 months since the day Chan told you he loved you and made you his girlfriend. Well, maybe not officially one might argue, since he still had a myriad of promises to uphold before then, but as far as Chan is concerned, it counts!
And to the credit of his point, you still acted like a couple most of the time, all sweet touches and bashful glances whenever he was near you. Neither of you could help it, really; how do you resist in that scenario? All he ever wanted to do was shower you with affection any chance he got, and why would you deny the opportunity to experience it?
Chan’s duality also extended towards your romantic relationship, in ways that endlessly endeared and fascinated you. He adapted to the boyfriend role well all things considered, or maybe his kind hearted and compassionate nature made him naturally good at caring for you.
He was extremely open with his love for you, full of soft touches and charming words. That was always in private however; when around his friends he was much less.. Sauve, you could say. He was shy, simply put; his face and ears burning red whenever you kissed him for all to see, bashful giggles leaving his lips whenever you complimented him or told him you loved him so, so much.
You always loved seeing his cute dimples show up whenever he was happy, and knowing you were the person making it happen filled you with more joy than you could express in words. But the biggest display of his duality would always come when he felt the need to protect you– all his shyness would melt away, his desire to keep you safe and close much stronger than anything else.
Whether it was holding your hand as you walked through crowds of people, directing you away from the edge of the sidewalk when you walked together, or kept an arm snuggly around you when belligerent, overconfident men approached you at a party– he was your protector above all else, and he made that clear to everyone.
He was perfect in every way, at least to you. It’s not to say that he was suddenly without fault, and he certainly wasn’t absolved of all the wrong he’d committed in his past, but his growth and earnest effort didn’t deserve to go unrecognized.
He was the sweetest, kindest person you’d ever known, and every day he showed his resilience and determination to make a better name for himself. That alone made him perfect to you.
Chan worked hard to get away from what kept him connected to the dark underside of the city, and it didn’t come without its sacrifices, but he did his best to make it work and come out of it all ready to wash his hands clean of the past.
He made substantially less money now, but it was a fair exchange when you consider that the money he made going forward was through honest means. He agreed to share the burden as well, to accept help and not take on so much responsibility all on his own.
He was used to taking the brunt of everything, shouldering it all for the sake of everyone else around him. He thought that's what made him useful, what made others want to be around him– what use did he have as a person if he wasn’t providing something for them? Chan was a pillar; one who didn’t want to acknowledge that his foundation was inherently broken, and not built on solid enough ground.
Slowly but surely however, he began to see his worth beyond the material, and stopped seeing his friendships as ones that could easily be stripped away from him by superficial means. It’s not that he thought the people in his life were shallow either, it’s just..
When your self-esteem is so low, and all you’ve ever known is pain and sadness, where the people that were supposed to care for you were either gone or didn’t give a shit, it’s hard to see yourself in the same lens that the people who love you do.
It’s nearly impossible to shake doubt once it has its grip on you, hard to convince yourself people mean it when they say they care when you’ve only ever experienced the opposite. You can’t explain what it’s like to have a brain at war with itself, and he imagines that the only ones who would ever truly understand are the people like him, who have experienced it for themselves and truly know what it means to be lonely.
But he had come to realize that he wasn’t as alone as he felt; he had countless good people in his life, and all he had to do was open the door and let them in. It wasn’t easy to unlearn all the things Chan had told himself over the years, and there were still many days where he struggled with his self-worth and having compassion for himself, but the people he loved made it worth trying his hardest.
And you, the person Chan loved most of all, was the catalyst for the change he needed. You pushed him in the right direction, opened his eyes to all the feelings and wants he tried to push away and made him face them head on. He was endlessly grateful to you, and he wanted to show you just how much; which is why now, on your 6 month anniversary (which was actually more like 3, officially speaking), he wanted to do something special.
But what should he get you? What would be good enough? He knew you’d appreciate the sentiment of his gift more than the price tag of it, but he still felt stuck when considering what would be best for you. He could take you out on a date, but what he really wants is the chance to be alone with you. As much as he loves his brothers, and loves that you’re all friends and get along well, if they interrupt or crash his alone time with you one more time he might burst a blood vessel.
Theoretically he could do some research and find somewhere for the two of you to be one on one, but his career change didn’t leave him with much of a travel fund (or a gift fund, for that matter.) He could always ask the guys to make themselves vacant for a night, or to just please let him have some alone time with his girlfriend, but God, he could already picture how they’d tease him for asking. Or worse, ask him what his intentions are and make him embarrassed in the process.
In the end however, Chan swallowed his pride, and asked his brothers kindly but firmly to let him have the house to himself so he could spend his anniversary alone with you. He did get some teasing and embarrassing questions, but overall not as bad as what he anticipated, thankfully.
Did he want to have sex with you? Yes, obviously. Was that the reason he was doing this? Absolutely not. That’s not to say he wouldn’t welcome it if it happened of course, but it was in no way his sole motivation.
He hadn’t done that with you yet, and though he wanted to, he was in no way going to rush you into it. Sure, it drove him a little crazy every time you stayed the night and he had you pressed up against him, but he was a gentleman above all else. He had self control.
What he didn’t know though, is that you were also being driven a little crazy by him. The first time he called you “baby”, your stomach did full on somersaults, and if he called you that before he kissed you? Your heart went absolutely crazy!
Then, the first time he removed his shirt to sleep you nearly had a heart attack. He was so toned, and well, you figured he was from how strong he appeared to be, but actually seeing it with your own eyes made your heart race unbelievably fast.
And then, one night when you were lying in his bed together, your back pressed against him as you watched a movie on his laptop, and he leaned forward to kiss you, but the kiss landed on your neck– oh, it was over for you.
You bit your lip to stop yourself from making an embarrassing sound, face flushing and growing hot. And lately, you came to realize more and more how bad you wanted Chan more intimately. Every time his hand lingered on your waist, every time you felt his body pressed to yours when you hugged, every time you were laying together and he had his arm wrapped around you– you wanted him.
But how do you go about admitting that? You’d never done this sort of thing before, nor had you been faced with such a strong desire to be intimate with someone before being with Chan.
But now, that it was your 6-more-like-3 month anniversary, you thought maybe now might be the right time to talk about it. It might be difficult to do so without getting shy or embarrassed but you definitely wanted to, and to find out if he ever thought about you in the same way.
Much to Chan’s delight and relief, you didn’t seem at all upset that his plans with you involved having a date at home. His gift to you was a cute, new wolf plush; and while it was certainly was no Wolf Chan, he hoped would comfort you when you weren’t with him. You loved it, instantly hugging him and promising that you’d sleep with Wolf Chan Jr. (as you promptly named it) every night that you weren’t with Chan.
He put on a movie that you’d once said was a favorite of yours but that he had never seen, and it warmed your heart that he remembered and wanted to watch it with you. He ordered your favorite take out meal, spent the entire evening cuddled close to you and sweetly reminding you how much he loved you.
When night settled in and you began to grow tired, you changed into your pajamas separately before you went to his room. And still, the question was weighing on you– does he want you? Will you be able to tell him that you'd been giving having sex with him a lot of thought?
And then you walked into the room after finishing changing, and saw that he planned on only sleeping in some sweatpants, you internally lost your mind. No way would you be able to sleep if he was next to you looking that good and while your mind was plagued with less than innocent thoughts.
So when the lights were off, and you were laid next to him, you conjured all your bravery to speak your mind. “Chan.. can I ask you something?” He sat up a bit upon hearing you, finding your eyes in the darkness to give you his full attention.
“Of course, what is it?” He asks and you swallow, taking a moment to steady your voice before you come right out with it. “Do you ever.. think about having sex with me?” Holy fuck. That is the last thing he was expecting to hear.
“W-What? I-I– well–” he sputters nervously, his face growing hot within seconds. “I-I just.. I have so.. I thought I’d ask..?” you mutter shyly, hoping you won’t be faced with a mortifying rejection.
Oh no. That admission makes his brain short circuit for a moment, mind reeling as he processes what you’ve just said. You’ve thought about it? With him? You want to… with him?
“O-Of course I have, I just didn’t know if you wanted to, a-and I didn’t want you to feel pressured if I instigated so..” he trails off, hoping that he didn’t unintentionally make you feel undesired by holding off on touching you more intimately.
Relief rushes through you, happy to be reminded what a gentleman your boyfriend is and to know that he wants you too. “I-In that case.. do you want to tonight?” you ask, and you feel him suck in a breath before he answers.
“I– y-yeah, I want to,” he says, shy but honest as he seeks out your hand, “as long as you’re sure you’re ready.”
“I’m sure, I really want to,” you tell him, squeezing his hand and offering him a smile. Chan gets up from the bed to turn on some dim mood lighting, because he definitely doesn’t want his first time with you to be in complete darkness– he needs to see you.
You sit up, watching him in nervous excitement before he sits next to you. “I’ll– I’ll take care of you so.. Just let me know if I’m going too fast or you need to stop, okay?” he asks and you assure him that the minute you feel even slightly uncomfortable, you’ll let him know.
He smiles, a shy and cute one, guiding you to turn so both of your bodies are facing each other before he lets you know, “I’m going to kiss you now.” His hand rests just below your ear, fingers on your neck and his thumb tracing circles on your cheek as he leans in to kiss you.
The kiss is slow– much slower than all the others you’ve shared with him until now. It’s sensual, each kiss soft and languid, pulling away for only a second before he connects his lips with yours again. You can feel the butterflies flutter in your stomach as he deepens the kiss, his other hand carefully landing on your waist.
Your hands sit awkwardly in your lap at first, not quite sure what you should do with them and what’s okay. But to your surprise, the more Chan kisses you, the more you find yourself naturally following his lead, as if this isn’t something entirely new to you. He tilts you back, carefully guiding your back to the bed, his body finding its place between your legs.
You bring your arms around his neck, urging him to press his body closer to yours and leave no free space between you. You want him as close as possible, to feel his weight on you, to be enveloped by him and feel him all over.
You’re so responsive to his touch that it drives Chan crazy with want; the way your body shivers when he runs his hand down your waist to your hip, the way goosebumps rises on your skin when his fingers linger near your waistband, the way your mouth opens for him when he licks your bottom lip– he loves it all.
A soft sound escapes your throat when he lets his tongue in your mouth, your arms moving from around his neck to let your hands explore his body, running down his chest and feeling his abs under your fingertips.
Feeling his tongue circle around yours, his breath being shared with you and yours with him, it’s enough to make you dizzy already. You’ve never felt a desire like this before, this overwhelming want to have his hands explore every inch of your skin.
When he pulls away from the kiss, wow, he’s breathless just from the sight of you. Your lips red and glossy, your eyes hazy with need, your hair having fallen around you like a halo; his angel– you’re forever his angel.
Chan caresses your lip with his thumb, wanting to stare at you for just a moment longer before he diverts his attention elsewhere. He smiles when you kiss his thumb, finding the action cute (and hot if he’s being honest, but he’ll explore that thought later.)
He lowers his head back down to you, giving you one more kiss before he leans towards your neck, kissing just under your ear before trailing hot, open mouthed kisses slowly down the expanse of your jaw and to your neck.
Some of them tickle, making you giggle softly in response, but he knows he’s found the right spot when instead of giggling, you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you tilt your head to the side, allowing him to have more access to your sweet spot.
You can feel him smile against your skin before he resumes his wet kisses and licks, latching his mouth to the spot that makes you react the most and sucking gently. The noises that leave you are intoxicating and addictive, soft breathy little moans that almost get completely drowned out by the sound his kisses leave on your dampening skin.
His hands travel to the hem of your shirt, and he separates from your neck, looking at you for any sign that you want him to stop before he begins to pull it up. You look shy, maybe a little nervous, but not at all hesitant or scared of his touch. You welcome it, letting him strip you of your top and toss it to the floor.
You’re not wearing a bra, you never do when you go to bed, and while Chan suspected that to be the case, he never asked or commented on it, because admitting that he noticed a difference would also mean admitting that he’d look at your chest. But now, he'll be able to do so freely, to stare at you openly (and hopefully not be too embarrassed about it.)
The way he stares in awe of you makes you blush, and when he calls you beautiful on top of it, you almost want to cover your face from how shy you feel. He can’t compliment you while you’re exposed to him like this, you don’t think your heart can take it. Your reaction makes him smile, but he hopes you know that he means it; Chan isn’t saying you're beautiful just to say it, you truly are– the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both body and soul.
“Is this okay?” he asks, hands lingering patiently near your breasts, not wanting to touch them until you give him clearly spoken permission. You nod, but he still hesitates until you say it, which you simultaneously appreciate but feel extremely embarrassed from. Chan rewards you with a kiss, another long one meant to ease away the embarrassment and put your focus entirely on enjoying the moment.
Your breath hitches when he finally touches your breasts, your body quivering when his calloused thumbs brush over your nipples. He lingers on every kiss so sweetly, every touch of your body slow and careful, not just for your comfort but also to commit it to memory, to ensure that he always remembers what his first time with you was like. He kisses down your neck again, and you watch with bated breath as he draws closer to your chest.
Chan takes his time fondling your breasts as he covers them in kisses, squeezing gently and listening intently to all the sounds he draws from you. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and spending some time softly sucking before giving the other an equal amount of attention.
The more attention he showers your breasts with, the wetter you become, your panties becoming increasingly drenched with your arousal. If he wasn’t between your legs, you’d be pressing them together in a desperate attempt to gain some relief, your pussy aching to be touched but at the same time wanting to let Chan take his time making you feel good.
He doesn’t separate from your chest until he’s satisfied, starting to trail kisses down your stomach, stopping to look up at you once he’s at the waistband of your shorts. “Still okay?” he asks and you nod (perhaps a bit too eagerly), lifting your hips up so he can easily pull your clothes down your legs.
He hooks his fingers into your shorts and panties, hands slightly trembling as he pulls them down your thighs and then off your legs, discarding them off to the floor with your top. Now that he sees you fully exposed to him, Chan feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest, his cock unceremoniously twitching as he stares at your body.
You can see how hard it’s grown from beneath his sweatpants, and God, you can already tell it’s big. You sit up, this time being the one to initiate a kiss as you tug at Chan’s sweatpants, not so subtly asking him to help you take them off.
It’s his turn to feel shy, face starting to burn to the tips of his ears as he separates from you to remove them more easily. The way you attentively watch him certainly doesn’t help, nor the way you overtly stare at his cock when it’s freed from his clothing.
You look back to his face, and though he’s feeling shy, he offers you a smile, one that you return just as timidly. Another kiss before you lay back again, your heart racing as you watch him resume his earlier path, placing kisses to the soft expanse of your skin. From your cute tummy down to your thighs, it’s driving you crazy how close his face has gotten to your core without having given it any attention yet.
He carefully spreads your legs further apart, swallowing when your pussy comes entirely into his view. So cute and dripping wet, all for him, because of him– God, you’re perfect. As he’s done with every inch of your body up to this point, his first course of action is to kiss. Your hips jolt when he kisses your clit, and when he flattens his tongue and licks, oh, you’re in heaven.
You’ve never felt anything as good as this, your entire body shuddering as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. The slow pace he starts with drives you wild, taking his time familiarizing himself with the way you taste, the motions you like, and indulging in the pretty sound of your whimpers and moans.
Chan picks up the pace when he finds what you like, alternating from pushing his tongue as deep into your hole as it can go and then back to your clit. He uses his hands to keep your legs spread, can feel the way they tremble and twitch as your orgasm grows closer.
Your hands clutch at his bedsheet, desperate mewls growing in volume as the knot in your stomach builds. He directs all of his attention to your clit, keeping his pace steady as he squeezes your thighs in his hands, his eyes closed as he focuses entirely on getting you to cum all over his tongue.
He can’t help but groan when your hands move to his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging just enough to cause a slight sting. “C-Close, so close-” you warn and he hums, ready and eager to taste your release.
You cum with a choked cry, your entire body trembling as the blinding white pleasure courses through your veins. Your heart pounds, chest heaving as you try to collect your breath, mind hazy from your post-orgasm bliss.
You don’t even register that Chan has moved from his spot between your legs until he kisses you, tasting yourself on his tongue bringing you back to reality. Seeing you like this not only fills Chan with an insane amount of want, but also with pride, knowing that he’s the reason you’re in this state.
“Baby,” he calls to you, urging you to look at him. His face flushes when you do, cause fuck, you’re so pretty like this, but no use getting shy again now. “I– I want to get you ready to take me, i-is that okay?” Chan hates that he stutters a bit while asking, but he can’t help it when he’s this worked up and you’re laying there looking pretty beyond words.
“Y-Yeah, please,” you practically beg, and fuck, he’s weak for that. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to resist giving you whatever you want if you make begging like that a habit of yours. He carefully moves from between your legs to be next to you, kissing you sweetly as he rubs his fingers between your folds.
You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and leaking, his pre-cum smearing on the skin it touches. “C-Channie–” you call and he immediately comes to stop, looking at you in concern. “What’s wrong, angel? Change your mind?” he asks, brows furrowing in worry.
You quickly shake your head, trying to dispel any concern before you speak up again, “I want- Can I touch you too?” You can feel his cock twitch from your question, his face flaring and ears burning.
“Y-Yeah, of course,” he says, adjusting his position enough for his cock to be within reach of your hand. He can’t help but shudder and gasp when you bring your fingers to his flushed tip, coating your fingers in pre-cum and spreading it down the length of his shaft.
Your hand is so much softer than his, so warm, and fingers barely able to wrap fully around due to how thick he is. He can’t help but get lost in watching for a moment, eyes transfixed on the way your hand slowly moves up and down. You look at Chan, watching the way his expression changes as he bites his lip– how does he look so gorgeous and sexy at once?
Regaining his focus, he prods at your hole with his fingers before he slips the middle one inside. God, you’re so warm and wet and tight, that the thought alone of being inside you is enough to make Chan want to cum. He can’t wait to fuck you, to feel you squeezing him, and to find out what noises you’ll make when his cock is touching the deepest parts of you.
But first, he needs to prep you well– so he starts by moving his finger in and out slowly and carefully until he’s sure you can take another. You whimper when he adds a second finger, your motions on his cock stopping for just a moment as you adjust to the new sensation you’re feeling. His fingers are much longer and thicker than your own, and it sends ripples of pleasure throughout your body with every move they make.
You match the pace of your hand with that of his fingers, mirroring the slow movements, but adding pressure by squeezing your hand around him. When he picks up his pace, you do as well, and your stomach flips when he curses under his breath and groans.
You’re mesmerized when his head falls back for a moment, his breathing becoming heavier and his stomach and thighs flexing from the pleasure he feels. But when his fingers curl, your concentration breaks, the spot he touches making you see stars as loud a moan falls from your lips.
It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, head falling back against the pillows and your eyes rolling back as he prods it over and over again. Your pace on his cock loses its rhythm, trying your best to keep steady through the immense pleasure you feel but failing at the task miserably.
Chan doesn’t mind in the slightest– in fact, he welcomes it, because he doesn’t want to cum before he's had the chance to be inside you. He brings his thumb to your clit, applying pressure as he draws circles over it, and that’s enough to make you entirely crumble. “Oh my god–” you gasp, your hand falling away from his cock as you succumb to what he gives you.
You’re cumming before you can even really process it, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body trembles. He doesn’t stop until he’s sure you’ve come down from the high, carefully sliding his fingers out of you and licking them clean.
Your eyes are closed, breath shaky as your heart pounds, and you feel so good. Chan carefully pushes the hair stuck on your face with sweat away, and you smile at him when you open your eyes. “Felt good, huh?” he asks with a shy smile of his own, “Do you still want to keep going? Not too tired?”
“Wanna keep going, wanna feel you inside me,” you answer, and you can feel him twitch against your thigh again, evidently excited by your words. He stands from the bed to rifle through his nightstand, pulling a condom from the drawer as you settle comfortably in the middle of the bed.
Chan takes his place between your legs, and you watch as he opens the package and rolls the condom on with no trouble (despite how much his hands are trembling from the anticipation.) He takes his cock in his hand, lining himself up with your entrance and then looking back to your face.
“You’re still sure?” he asks, and you nod without hesitation. “Mhm, I love you so much Channie, wanna do this with you and only you,” you assure him, and wow, does that make him positively melt.
“Such an angel,” he tells you before he kisses you, happy beyond words, “my angel.” He slides inside with relative ease given how slick you are, the only resistance he meets being from how tight you still are even after having gotten his fingers.
He watches you the entire time, stopping when he notices you wince, and only resuming his slow push when your body starts to release its tension. Chan kisses you, holds your hand and lets you squeeze as hard you need, not moving a single inch until you’re ready for it. To your surprise, it doesn’t take all that long for you to adjust to the stretch, and soon enough you find yourself eager for stimulation.
You don’t verbally say it, but Chan can tell you’re ready by the pleasured whimper that pours into your kiss when you feel him twitch inside, and how you unconsciously move your hips to try and seek the friction you crave. He starts slow, for his sake as much as yours, because he’ll cum much sooner than he wishes to otherwise.
He’s still kissing you, swallowing your soft moans and letting you consume his low groans. It takes him a moment to find your spot with just his cock, but he can tell he’s got it when you loudly gasp and clench tightly around him.
He moves his hands to your hips and then to your legs, holding them in his hands and using them for leverage when he starts to pick up his pace. Your hands are on his face, holding him close as you continue to kiss and muffle each other’s noises that are beginning to grow in volume. You’re glad Chan asked the guys to leave for the night, because with how good it feels you couldn’t possibly keep your voice down, even if you wanted to.
“Fuck, baby, feel so good, ‘m gonna cum,” Chan tells you between breathy groans and your stomach flips, eager to find out what he looks and sounds like when he’s cumming inside you. He brings two fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles to ensure you cum again too and that he doesn’t leave you wanting. You whine, sensitive from all the attention you’ve received but still feeling way too good to ask him to stop.
“Cum again for me, please angel, need you to so bad, please-” Oh, that really does it for you. You cum hard, making a mess of his fingers as you do, clutching tightly to his arms as your head falls back. Chan’s high follows close behind, his thrusts turning sloppy as he chases it, his cum spurting into the condom in quick bursts.
The two of you stay like that for a time, breathing heavily as you come down from your highs together. Chan pulls out slowly once he’s caught his breath, quickly removing the condom and tying it off, disposing of it in the trash can at the foot of his bed before he lays down next to you.
You immediately turn towards him, wrapping your arm around him and pulling him into a hug. “We should get cleaned up but.. Wanna cuddle first,” you say and Chan smiles, always finding it so cute when you’re clingy towards him, and even more so now after an intimate moment.
He rubs soothing circles on your back and kisses the top of your head, watching you fondly as you yawn and snuggle as close to him as you can. “Baby, you’re gonna fall asleep if we stay like this too long. Let’s get you cleaned up before you get too cozy, yeah?” Chan reasons and you pout, knowing he’s right but not wanting to leave the comfortable, blissful place you’re in. He chuckles when you look at him with that pout, so adorable and cute in his eyes.
“C’mon, won’t take long. And we’ll go straight to bed as soon as we’re done, promise,” he tries again and you reluctantly agree, begrudgingly tearing yourself away from your boyfriend's warm embrace.
Your legs are a bit wobbly, so Chan helps you stabilize yourself, walks you to the bathroom and helps you in the shower. He takes his time to dry you off well and get you dressed in fresh clothes, and helps you back into bed.
You yawn and snuggle into Chan as soon he’s settled next to you, eyes heavy and body beyond exhausted. You’re a little sore, but so happy, and Chan took such good care of you that you feel relaxed despite the aches.
He holds you close, whispering a soft ‘I love you’, smiling when you sleepily mumble it back. He’s so lucky to have you, so blessed to have you here in his arms, loving him in both his good moments and his bad, never giving up on him even when you likely should have.
You saw how flawed of a person he was and loved him regardless, knew of his mistakes and regrets and supported him anyway, encouraging him every step of the way on his road to change. There were so many times he felt he didn’t deserve the love and compassion he received, so many times he felt worthless and miserable, and you graciously helped him to see that he was a person worth more than he gave himself credit for.
It was still hard at times to have love and compassion for himself, to extend himself the care he freely offered to others, to believe it’s what he deserved, but he’d never stop trying. Until the day came where he could confidently say he loves himself, that he believes in his heart that he’s not someone worthless, he’ll keep trying.
And you’ll be there, holding his hand, giving him the safe space he needs to cry and to feel, your unconditional love giving him the reassurance and hope he needs to live a life he can be proud of– a life he promises to always share with you.
#skz x reader#bang chan x reader#skz smut#bang chan smut#skz imagines#skz scenarios#skz fluff#skz angst#literally posting this after 4am fdsgsdfg GOOD NIGHT#mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune
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Second Shift: Mouthwashing Anya x Reader
hi guys! ^_^
hope you guys are doing well, here i bring to you another anya x reader! i based this one off my coworker, who misses her dear husband who works on…second shift. but like i think that’s so cute bc that means love isn’t dead 🥹 but i love anya so like i made this about her lol
only warning i have is for a little makeout sesh at the last few paragraphs, but nothing graphic!
anyways please enjoy!
also on my ao3!
Anya sighs as she swipes her employee ID through the time clock, eager to wrap up her shift and go home for the weekend. She hurries to her car, the cool midnight breeze biting at her skin—a strong reminder that she had forgotten to bring a jacket, despite your gentle warning earlier. You always remind her how chilly the nights can get, also scolding her lightly when she asks for "just one more kiss" before dashing out the door.
But tonight marks the end of her stint on the second shift, and on Monday, she'll return to first shift—no longer settling for hurried kisses and a quick "I love you" as you hand her a carefully packed lunch bag. She's already looking forward to reclaiming those cozy evenings on the couch, wrapped in your arms as you both indulge yourselves to a favorite show. Anya isn't sure how her coworkers manage such schedules with their partners, but she knows she couldn't endure another week of this. Maybe it's a touch of codependency, but she prefers to think of it as being hopelessly in love.
Driving home, she passes a string of restaurants, their neon signs catching her eye. The temptation to pull in and grab something quick passes through her mind, but she knows there's a plate waiting for her at home. And truthfully, if it comes down to a choice, she'd pick your cooking over takeout any day.
When she pulls into the driveway, the warm glow of the porch light greets her, filling her chest with an inexplicable comfort. You must have left it on for her. She steps inside, closing the door with a practiced quietness to avoid waking you.
Setting her lunch bag on the counter, she unpacks the empty Tupperware and spoons, placing them in the sink before wiping the bag clean. She's never been the type to pack lunch for work, but you've always taken it upon yourself to prepare meals for her, tucking them neatly into containers for her to take to work. It's a small gesture, but one she cherishes deeply, knowing you take time out of your busy day just for her.
Though cooking isn't her strong suit, she has her own ways of showing her love. Every morning at 4 a.m., she wakes up early to brew you a fresh pot of coffee before you head to work. Those brief moments are precious to her—sharing a small conversation as you vent about your boss or coworkers, hoping her goodbye kiss might make your day just a little brighter.
She heats up the dinner you left for her, the microwave humming softly in the quiet house. With her plate in hand, she flicks on the TV. After all, who eats alone without something to watch?
After finishing her meal, she tiptoes into the bedroom, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before slipping into the bathroom to shower. The warm water cascades over her, washing away the weight of the day, the warm water soothing her tired muscles, lingering longer than usual.
Emerging from the bathroom, she towels her hair as best as she can, brushing through the damp strands before changing into something comfortable. Finishing her routine by applying lotion to her face and body.
Pulling back the covers, she slides into bed and instinctively scoots closer to you, wrapping her arm around your waist. Her leg intertwines with yours, seeking warmth and comfort in your presence.
"Your feet are cold," you mumble sleepily, shifting to pull her arm tighter around you.
"Did I wake you?" she asks softly, a twinge of guilt in her voice.
"I heard you drop something in the shower. Couldn't sleep after that."
"Sorry," she murmurs.
"It's okay babe, how was work?"
"Day shift left me a mess again, so I had to clean it up," she sighs. "But at least the residents weren't too crabby today." She leans forward to press a kiss to your ear. "One of them even told me I was beautiful."
You chuckle, already knowing who it was. "Paul? I better tell him to back off my girl."
She giggles, the sound light and musical. "He's harmless. Besides, he shares his candy stash with me, so don't ruin it." Paul was one of her favorite residents at the nursing home—endearing, witty, and always challenging her to a game of checkers.
"What about you? How was your day?" she asks, her fingers tracing absent patterns on your side.
"We're training a new operator," you start, your voice tinged with mild frustration. "But I don't think she's comfortable with it. I told the supervisor, but he keeps saying that she'll adjust. Honestly, I don't know why they made me a team lead if they're just going to ignore everything I say. But whatever. At least I have the weekend off."
Her fingers pause in your hair. "Oh really? Why's that? It's a miracle they're giving you the whole weekend off." she teases, trying to mask her excitement.
"They're shutting things down for maintenance, so no production."
"Good." She smiles, the relief evident in her voice. "I've missed you." And she has—she can't even remember the last time you both had a weekend off together. Was it a month ago? Two?
"How much?" you tease, turning to face her, your eyes glinting with playful curiosity.
More than I can put into words, she thinks.
Instead of answering, she pulls you into a kiss, her hand sliding into your hair, her lips soft yet purposeful against yours. The kiss deepens as her fingers tighten slightly in your hair, drawing you closer. Your breath mingles with hers, the world outside dissolving into the space between you.
You groan softly when she nibbles on your lip, a sound that makes her smile against your mouth. Her other hand rests on your chest, her palm pressing lightly, grounding herself in the rhythm of your heartbeat.
"What do you think?" she asks, her voice low and teasing, her lips still grazing yours.
Breathless, you laugh. "I think I might need some more convincing."
She kisses you again, this time slower, yet passionately, as if pouring every ounce of her affection into the moment. To her, each kiss is a piece of her heart, a silent declaration that her world begins and ends with you.
Shifting slightly, she straddles your hips, her hands slipping beneath your shirt, fingertips brushing against your skin. She pauses, her eyes meeting yours, seeking silent permission. When you nod, her hands move, exploring the curve of your stomach. You shiver under her touch.
"Your hands are cold," you giggle, and she flushes.
She presses a kiss to your jaw, her voice playful. "Maybe I was just trying to warm them up."
She's always been the colder one between the two of you, her icy toes constantly seeking warmth against your legs. And despite your insistence that she wear socks to bed, they inevitably end up kicked off in her sleep.
You yawn suddenly, and she freezes.
"Don't tell me you're about to fall asleep," she teases, leaning back slightly.
You glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand, its red digits reading just shy of 2 a.m. Another yawn escapes, this one pulling tears to the corners of your eyes. "Probably. I always sleep better when you're here," you admit, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips.
Anya's chest swells with warmth. "Then let's sleep."
She slides back down beside you, wrapping her arm securely around your waist and resting her head in the crook of your shoulder.
In the quiet of the night, the two of you drift off, wrapped around each other, holding onto the love that feels as natural and essential as breathing.
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Jilted Ex-Lover / Negan x Reader / fiancésdad!Negan
Warnings ⚠️: unprotected sex, elements of rough sex, use of petnames, oral (fem receiving) not proof read yet.
Summary: After your fiancé leaves you high and dry on your wedding day, his dad comforts you in a way you didn’t ever expect.
A/N: I got burnt out to fuck writing this lol, writers block was strong on this one, hope you enjoy it all the same though, thank u for all the love on my other stories 🤍🫶🏼
“How the fuck could he do this to me?” You exclaimed, stomping down the hallway of the old manor house, the rooms still decorated in the victorian inspired decor you’d picked out months ago. Making it back to your bridal suite, you threw the doors open, reaching under your dress to get your uncomfortable heels off your feet, throwing them into the corner without a care. Your bridesmaids followed behind you, a couple on their phones trying to get in contact with your fiancé, or should you say ex-fiancé. You’d noticed he’d been getting jittery the closer the date got, not caring when you’d come to him for his opinions on the food menu or the DJ set list, him just humming along, his eyes still glued to his phone. You’d tried to push it to the back of your mind, chalking it up to just be cold feet, something that was common but when the day eventually arrived, it would all be fine. How foolish that was, on what was meant to be the happiest day of your life, the day you are meant to promise yourselves to one another, you’d been embarrassed in front of not only your friends and family, his as well. You kept replaying the moment over and over again in your head, the gasps of the wedding audience, hands going over their mouths in shock, the tears that entered your eyes and started to fall down your cheeks. He’d left you there at the alter, stuttering when it came to the all important question, running down the stairs, head held down as he rushed out of the door.
“So, what do you want to do Y/N? Everyone’s traveled here, everything is set downstairs.” One of the bridesmaids asked you, looking around at the others with a nervous look on her face, almost not wanting to ask you the question. You sighed, taking a hold of the crystal decanter that was on the dressing room table, using the ice tongs to place two cubes of ice in a matching whiskey glass, pouring a stiff drink. “You know what?” You laughed, taking the drink in one go. “Fuck him, there’s no chance I spent all this fucking money for everything to be cancelled. Tell everyone to head to the reception. We are continuing like this never happened.” Your bridesmaids started to text away on their phones, one looking up for a brief moment. “What about his family? Are they invited?” You looked towards her, a small smile on your face. “Of cause, I’m going to get some questions answered.”
You’d still changed into your reception dress, a long flowing silk white strapless number, you’d still had your first dance, just with your own father instead of your husband, a few fallen tears as you did, quickly wiped away. You’d had people coming up to you from both sides, what should have been congratulations became apologies and sympathies. You hadn’t heard from him since he ran away, the thought of somehow this being a dream now fully out of the picture. The beat of the cheesy classic wedding songs in the background, as you asked the bartender for another drink, passing your empty glass to them. Your nails tapped against the bar, looking around at everyone still enjoying themselves and dancing near the stage where the DJ was positioned. The bartender returned with your glass now full, a nod of appreciation as you took it.
“Drowning your sorrows, sweetheart? Can’t say I blame you.” You turned to look at where the voice came from, a small look of disapproval sat on your features. “Well, you have your own demon spawn to blame for that one, Mr Smith.” He let out a hearty chuckle, leaning on the bar top. You knew you shouldn’t be directing your anger at Negan, your fiancés father but you couldn’t help your feelings. You’d been racking your brain all day of how someone could think it was okay to completely abandon what was meant to be their life partner on the day of their wedding, knowing how embarrassing and disrespectful it was. “You really did a brilliant job of raising him, the fact he thinks that it’s morally better to absolutely embarrass me in front of everyone, he could have cancelled this before now, saved me the heartbreak.” You concluded, taking a sip of the wine from the glass. Negan looked at you with a guilty look on his face, his hand rubbing his face. “I’m so sorry doll, he never came to me with any of this, if I’d known he was going to do this, I would have shut that shit down, made sure he went about the right way to do it. That’s not the way I fucking raised him. It was a cowardly move.” You let out a sigh, you could tell from the way Negan was looking at you he was being completely truthful, you’d always got along, there would be no reason he wouldn’t have come to you with this, even if it meant going behind his sons back. “I know. Sorry, I just have a bit of resentment towards anyone associated to him at the moment, it isn’t your fault. Maybe just hit him in the face a couple times when you eventually find him.” You smiled, trying to lighten the mood for the moment before you cried again. He laughed at this, his arm leaving the bar to wrap around your waist in a gentle embrace. “Don’t worry doll, he’ll be getting an earful from me when I see him. I don’t like seeing your pretty face upset, especially not over some boy.” He pulled you close, his hand resting in place, you felt safe in Negan’s arms, a weird sensation coming over you, arousal? It was no secret that Negan was a good looking guy, anyone with a set of eyes could see how handsome he was, he had all the charm in the world to match as well. So suave, he held himself really well, almost a people person but wouldn’t take any shit from anyone. To be honest, there had always been some kind of silent attraction between the two of you, you’d noticed when his eyes had lingered on you for a little longer than was deemed socially appropriate, how he always seemed more relaxed in your company, when he’d bring you breakfast some mornings when he knew his son was away on business trips. He’d taken good care of you and welcomed you with open arms into the family, which caused the betrayal to sting more, you weren’t just losing a potential husband, you were losing a extended family relationship as well.
“Well if you would excuse me, I have to get back to people coming up to me and expressing their condolences, you’d think it was a funeral, not a wedding.” You slightly laughed, taking one last look in his eyes as you bid him farewell.
A couple hours later, after everyone had left, you found yourself in your suite, having taken your hair down from the intricate up do, having to weave out the small flowers that had been placed in the style and what felt like ten thousand bobby pins. Grabbing a quick shower, you’d put on a silk set with a short robe, what was meant to be your wedding night lingerie, another thing you’d spent a ton of money on that you didn’t want going to waste. You’d barely checked your phone through the night, looking at it now you hadn’t had any calls or texts from your estranged ex, concluding that was probably a good thing, not wanting to get upset thinking about it again. A loud knock at your door made you jump, throwing the soft duvet off your body as you made moves towards the door, a look of surprise at the person. “Hey doll, I figured you wouldn’t want to be alone tonight, so…” Negan trailed off, raising the bottle of champagne and two flutes in his large hand. “Champagne? Aren’t you meant to drink that when you’re celebrating?” You questioned, cocking one hip to the side sarcastically with your eyebrow raised. “Well, depending on how you look at the situation, you could be celebrating the fact you don’t have to deal with a silly little boy anymore who can’t appreciate a good women in front of him?” You laughed, taking the bottle out of his hand, moving away from the door so he could enter the room. “Well, when you put it like that.” Negan shut the door behind you, taking a seat on the bed as he watched you pop open the bottle, pouring two glasses and handing him one. “To new beginnings?” You cheers with him, the glasses clinking together. “To new beginnings, doll. So what the plan from here? Weren’t you meant to be going on a honeymoon?” You huffed, you’d completely forgotten about your impending honeymoon, two weeks on your own sounded morbid. “I haven’t even thought about it, I forgot. Do you think it would be pathetic to go by myself? Maybe I can explain the situation and get refunded, I’ll just have to take the hit if not.” Negan smiled as he shook his head. “Nah, it’s not pathetic. Hell, you paid for the trip, you deserve the time away.” You nodded, taking a small sip of the champagne. “Yeah I guess, just don’t know how I feel about a solo trip, it will cause me to overthink everything and get upset.” You looked down at the ground, taking small steps until you were sat across from Negan on the bed.
“Did I do something wrong? I mean, am I really that insufferable that someone felt the need to run away from me? Is the idea of marrying me that bad?” You asked, the thoughts you’d tried to push down all day coming back to the surface, causing you to get emotional the more you fixated on it. “No doll, don’t think that shit. He royally screwed up on this one, there is absolutely no excuse to do what he did to someone, especially someone like you.” He moved to wrap his arms around you again, you leaning your head into his shoulder, your hand placed on his chest, you could feel his faint heartbeat on the surface. You sat for a short time, neither of you moving from the position you were in, savouring the moment. You looked up at Negan, those deep brown eyes of his almost staring into your soul. He glanced down at you as well, this unspeakable tension surrounding you both, he leant forward and began to kiss you, your eyes wide with shock. “Wha-what are you doing? Please don’t tell me this is some sort of pity kiss.” You asked, pulling slightly away from Negan as his hand began to the side of your face, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Of cause not, let me help you forget about that fucker. Doesn’t know a good women even though it’s staring him in the face. Let me make you feel good, doll.” You pulled him towards you, now capturing him in a feverish kiss, your hands exploring his neck, holding him tightly. “God please, help me forget.”
You moved to straddle Negan feeling him through the thin lingerie you had on as he met your kisses with just as much confidence as you. His tongue making quick work of turning your insides to jelly, moving to whip your robe off your body, making quick work of unclipping your bra as well. You took no notice of where the items of clothing landed, though you had a feeling you would regret that later. Your breasts now free, Negan took the liberty of exploring you, delighting in the arch of your back as he worked a nipple between his teeth. One hand was on your back, the other trying to work on getting your panties down. You stood for a moment, shedding the flimsy material off your body, Negan taking a moment to admire your curves, as you straddled him again; hot skin against hot skin. The sensation overwhelmed you, aching to have him inside you. “Fuck, you are perfect doll. So beautiful.” He mumbled against your lips, his hands now roaming your body.
He laid you down on the bed, your legs spreading to make room for him. He kissed your neck, gently nipping it as he worked his way down, more attention on your breasts. You knew what was coming but that still didn't prepare you for the sensation that came once his mouth made contact with your pussy. Your hips bucked, Negan using one hand to steady you. You still couldn’t believe you were actually going to have sex with your fiancés father, the ultimate fuck you. “Uh, Negan! Fuck, your mouth feels so good!”
He slowly slid two fingers inside of you, delighting in how slick and tight you were. He worked his fingers in and out, building a rhythm while still licking at your clit, causing you to moan out, your hands gripping the sheet below you. Before you knew it, you could feel the orgasm building inside of you, this is what you had been craving. Your fiancé could never give you pleasure like you were currently experiencing, never even going down on you really, always just chasing his own high. You’d missed the attention of a man who knew what he was doing and Negan definitely knew what he was doing. You thrust your hips forward, wanting to get as close to Negan as possible. He sped up his rhythm, his tongue continually flicking against you. You was close, so close. Your other hand was grabbing at his shoulder, leaving red marks underneath his shirt, where your nails dug in slightly.
“Fuck doll, you taste divine, so wet for me.” He whispered out, attaching his mouth back to you after. "I'm so close," you choked out, surprised at the fact that you could talk at all. "I'm going to come, Negan! Fuck! Don’t stop!” You moaned, gripping the sheet even tighter as your orgasm washed over your body. The muscles in your body contracted as you thrust toward him again. Negan continued to work your clit through your orgasm, sporadic moans leaving your lips as the wave of pleasure that rolled over you was unbelievable. You couldn't control anything, the waves subsided as you tried to relax your body. You loosened the grip that you had on his shoulder as he looked up at you, a confident grin on his face.
“You okay baby?” He asked softly, already knowing your answer. “Never better, I need you.” His hand caressed your breast again and down your body. He slid a finger into you, finding you to be wet and ready for him. Your hands explored his body again, practically ripping his suit down, exposing his shaft to you, it standing erect at attention. You ran your hand around the length of it, pleased to hear him moan as you did so. You pumped Negan’s cock a few more times, the pre cum oozing out of the top, causing your hand to become slick. You were nervous about Negan’s size, you’d never seen a more impressive cock. The way he stood over you as well, so manly and dominating. “You ready doll? You look so beautiful, so needy for me.” You could only nod, as he positioned himself at your entrance.
You moved to the top of the bed, propping yourself up on the soft pillows positioned there. You spread your legs a little wider as Negan slowly eased himself into you. “Oh fuck, you feel good.” You moaned as his entire length entered you.
He grabbed your legs, putting them up over his shoulders, allowing his cock to go even deeper. His hands gripped your thighs as he thrust himself into you at a faster, harder pace, almost taking your breath away. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, doll. Fits me perfectly.” he growled, reaching up and began tweaking one of your nipples. The sensation of Negan playing with your nipples, and fucking you relentlessly was almost more than you could take. You’d never been pleasured like this before, your other sexcapades being boring and too slow paced for you. You ran your nails down his still covered chest, the black blazer now disregarded by Negan, the crisp white shirt still on his frame, he looked so sexy in it. The thought that he just had to have you, he wasn’t even concerned about undressing made you feel so desirable. He leaned down and kissed you again, biting your lower lip in the process.
"Fuck me harder, please!” You moaned out, his lips now going to work on your neck, quickly finding your sensitive spots. Negan groaned appreciatively, speeding his rhythm up to meet your sordid demands. “Hang on, doll. I need to see that pretty ass of yours.” He slid himself out of your pussy and you whimpered at the loss of fullness you were feeling. He rolled you over, pulling your torso up so that your ass was in the air. He ran his hands over your ass, giving a slap to the supple skin, sliding himself back into your pussy. “Oh fuck yes, Negan!” You said happily, delighting in the new sensation, his cock hitting all the right spots deep inside you.
He rested his hands on your hips, thrusting hard into your pussy. He ran a hand over your ass again, raised it, and gave another hard slap. “Fuck! Do it again.” You begged, the dirty movements only increasing your pleasure. He raised his hand and smacked you again, his hand then running through your hair and pulling tightly on it, angling your head back. “Does that feel good, doll?” he asked. "Do you like that? Being such a good girl for me.” He praised you, his deep tone causing your body to light on fire. “Oh yeah, fuck yeah.” You managed to whimper out, the sound of your skin slapping against him as you met his thrusts. “You want me to do it again? Your ass is going to be red raw when I’m finished with you doll.” Negan whispered in your ear, continuing to thrust hard into your pussy. “Yes, please. Oh please!” You felt desperate, the pain mixed with pleasure was just too much for you to handle. “Beg for it, doll. Beg me.” he said, pulling your hair harder. “Oh fuck, please smack me again! Negan, you feel so fucking good inside me!” Negan kept slamming himself into you as he smacked your ass again.
"Fuck doll, I’m getting close, this pussy is heavenly.” he said a few minutes later, pumping your pussy hard. "Where’d you want me?”
"On my chest, all over me, please?” You requested, Negan thrusting faster as he chased his release. “You are a dirty fucking girl, you know that doll?” He pulled out of you, positioning yourself to the ground quickly as he leant just above you on his knees.
"Come on me baby, please! I need it.” you said, pushing your breasts up towards him with your inner arms, your hands grabbing his shaft, finishing him off. “Fuck yes, doll! You look amazing like that, so needy for my cum.” he choked out just before his climax hit him. Negan’s load came pulsating out, all over your chest, heavy breaths escaping both of you. You began to swipe his release on off your chest, sucking the salty taste off your fingers, his eyes locked on to the dirty sight in front of him, his face lighting up. He helped you up, back onto the bed, giving you another kiss as he did. “You want me to stay doll?” he asked.
You debated internally for a few moments. You knew that he should probably go, the thought of someone catching you in bed with your ex fiancés father, would cause many questions that you wanted to avoid, but when he looked at you with those eyes of his, you caved. How could you kick out the man who had just shattered your world in the space of a hour? “You can stay, I want a repeat performance in the morning.” You chuckled, wrapping yourselves within the sheets of the bed. “Really doll, he’s a fucking fool. His loss, my fucking gain.” He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest, leaving small kisses on your forehead.
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A Dangerous Wish
(A Miguel O’Hara x Fem (spider-girl) reader, short story. Part One)
SMUT, NSFW
WARNINGS- nsfw, slight sadism,rough sex, teasing, bondage (f and m receiving), bj, fingering, hair pulling, sub to dominant switch, submissive reader, handcuffs, wounds, minor gun play, thigh riding, ENEMIES TO LOVERS
Pro tip- slowed Weeknd songs work best with this smut story lol
Finally. He was finally mine.
On the dark, smooth floor, littered with scratches and streaks of blood, Miguel was on his knees.
I had just managed to chain him to the rectangular pole over his head. Strong, power-draining handcuffs wrapped around his thick wrists. We were in the basement of the Spider Society, the unauthorized area Miguel doesn’t let his team see. But I was here, even if the webs strapped to my hands were under shaking palms. I had finally won.
Two years of chasing the leader of the Spider Society, only our brief, unsuccessful fights being the interactions we had between each other. And for the entirety of those two years, the strong and dangerous man had been possessing my mind.
Now what? He’s all mine. I could kill him. Ruin him.
Or, maybe, I could do what I always wanted to. A deep desire my body craved when I was around Miguel O’Hara, no matter how much I hated it. I wanted those eyes on me. The red, powerful eyes now hidden under the swoops of his tussled and damp hair.
His head was dropped in defeat, the talons sticking from his fingers hanging in mid-air, and rips in his suit exposing his bronze skin under the low LED lights. I let my body fall into an intimidating walk, slinking my hips as I moved closer to him. His chest was rising and falling, the sharp, heavy pants of his breath created a strange sensation in my stomach.
Miguel’s eyes trailed over my figure as he looked up, the red of his pupils almost purple in the dark. I took of my gloves slowly, letting the moment drag in painful build up. Miguel’s eyes devoured the sight of my fingers, as if every piece of open skin was killing him. I dropped the gloves, one sliding down the plane of his thigh.
“What do you want?” Miguel’s voice was raw, broken and hoarse with anger. The lowness of his words caused a shiver up my spine, but I stiffened my body to hide it.
“Oh, O’Hara.” My words were thick with mockery, and I let my nail drag up his throat, tipping his chin up with my index finger. He grit his teeth, trying to move his head away, but the pain prevented him from completing the action. I dug my red nail under his jaw, and Miguel leaned his head back. My sly smile felt natural, though I was forcing my teeth to stop shivering from the adrenaline of catching my enemy.
“I think you already know what I want.” I dropped to my knees in front of him, and jerked the chains holding his arms up towards me. He inhaled breathlessly as I forced his body towards mine. “To destroy you.”
At those words, an unusual smirk played on Miguel’s lips. Lips so close to mine, I felt like I wasn’t thinking straight anymore.
“And how so, hermosa?” His eyes dropped to my body again, and I suddenly felt like the tightness of latex around my breasts was a bad choice. “You gonna kill me?”
I laughed at that, and dropped my hands from him. “Death would be a relief. I want to have my fun with you.”
Miguel let his head fall back lazily, and a slow grin spread on his lips. “Oh, but I really need relief right now, (y/n).”
The double meaning of his words made my face turn a hot shade of pink.
I shook my head, and stood up, making a small tsk sound with my tongue. As I paced around the room, Miguel slowly rose to his feet with pained grunts. But I’m surprised he could even stand up after the way I beat him up. I suppose the super strength Miguel had also included super-healing capabilities.
Miguel was easily one or more feet over me. He towered over my body so heavily, I felt dumb for even existing around him, even if he’s the one under my control now. God, I’ve dreamt of this day for ages- but now I have no idea what to do.
“You gonna take these cuffs off my hands, (y/n)? Or am I gonna have to ask nicely?” Miguel’s voice was too confident, too sarcastic for my satisfaction. I had captured him, not the other way around.
I whipped around, aiming for his mouth, and shot a jumble of webs from my shooters. His lips were covered in threads of silk, bonded strong enough to shut his ass up.
Miguel growled, his mouth bounded by the white web, jerking his body roughly, as if that would help the situation. With the rage fogging over his bright eyes, the rips showing his sweaty, sleek abdomen, the veins on his hands lit like fire under the light-
Fuck. He looked really, really hot.
I ignored my thoughts and stomped to him, practically cowering under his large frame.
“Let me talk for once. I want to say a million things to you, but I can’t. Because I can’t waste my time on you anymore.” I paused, then averted my eyes to his, watching the anger dissipate from his irises.
“You ruined my life. You took everything from me,” I curled my fists. “You took everything from me for some fucking mission, some personal problem. So fuck you.”
The last sentence was rough, the words hardly leaving my mouth. Miguel’s eyes dropped, staring at my blood on my floor. As if he felt anything for me.
I should probably stitch the wound. Miguel had scraped my body all over my arms and legs in a cat fight. We were both physically weary from the fight, but yearning for the sweet revenge of true dominance.
We were still hungry for more.
I turned around swiftly, walking to the small station on the other side of the room. It had everything I needed- a first aid kit, radio, a gun.
I didn’t want to do what I had to do next. Kill Miguel.
But what other choice did I have?
I suddenly heard a footstep, too close to me, too heavy to belong to anyone else except the one person I hated the most.
“Fuck you? That’s a bold statement. I didn’t know you wanted me like that, cariño.” Míguela deep chuckle caused my heart to sink to my stomach. Because there’s only one way he could talk- if he took the webs off his mouth.
And the only way he could’ve done that, was by escaping.
I swung my body instantaneously on the ceiling before Miguel lunged at me, claws skimming the thin fabric of my stomach.
I dropped down, rolling into a fighting stance. How the hell did he escape? The chains that once held Miguel down were snapped, the shiny metal dropped into little rings on the ground. Even the handcuffs were snapped into multiple pieces. I whirled my head to the gun- now is my only chance.
But though I ran to the table again, frantically sweeping my hands on the wood, the gun had disappeared.
A small click sounded from the corner of the basement, so close to me that I flinched.
“Looking for this, pretty girl?”
And ever so carefully, I turned to see Miguel’s muscular forearm pointed at my chest.
The gun in his fist.
I backed away, my feet tripping on the legs of the table. Miguel’s face was dark, relishing in my fear. He cornered me, eventually letting his thigh uncomfortably press my legs away from each other.
“Pu-put it down.” The stammer in my voice was embarrassing, but I can’t imagine Miguel with more power than he already had. He could kill me right now.
Miguel made a small humming sound, and tapped the gun on my beating heart. “Say please.”
My dignity had escaped my body within the seconds. My teeth were grinding together, as I mumbled, “Please.”
Miguel clicked his tongue, and slid the gun to my collarbone, letting the muzzle of the weapon form small circles on my skin. I shivered, dropping my head back from fear, and something else I couldn’t name. “Oh, (y/n). That’s not enough for me, baby. Louder.”
I sucked in a breath, my focus heightened on the metal, cold and powerful over my skin. “Please.” My voice was louder, but that didn’t stop the shake in my pitch.
He nodded with satisfaction, the dark glint in his eyes growing. He pressed the gun in the crook of my neck, letting it trail over my throat. “Good. Keep being good for me, cariño. Because chaining me up,” he paused, shaking his head. “That disappointed me.” He softened his voice, the low taunts dragging out of his fanged mouth. “You love acting out, don’t you?” His eyes dropped to the metal pressing into my throat. “I might just have to punish you for that.”
I shook my head frantically, clenching my fists. How could he be so strong? Escape me so fast?
Miguel raised his eyebrow, stepping closer. His leg was now pressed completely against me, filling the area between my thighs. I wasn’t during if he noticed, but the pressure caused a wave of butterflies to cluster in my stomach. “No? You don’t want that?”
I nodded again, wishing for any relief away from the gun on my body. “No.”
Miguel grinned devilishly, and pressed the gun to the side of my throat with renounced force. “Then prove it to me.”
“What?” My voice was breathless, and I shifted on his leg.
Miguel’s eyes dropped to the low of my suit, where my hips were rolled against his muscular thigh. He clenched his jaw, and looked up at me again, strands of his hair falling in his eyes.
And those eyes had an unfamiliar blaze to them-
Desire.
“I want you to beg me to stop. I don’t think you understand how much I enjoy this.” He let his tongue slide over his teeth, and then tilted his head with dark curiosity. “Beg for your life.”
Miguel stepped all the way over my body, slamming one hand on the table near my own. I could feel his rapid breath on my jawline, the potent smell of spiced cologne on his body meeting my nostrils. “I want you to understand just how much power I have over you.”
The words hit me like a wave, throwing me over. My eyes widened, and I stared, blinking at his prideful expression. I couldn’t let my sexual ideas get in the way of this. Miguel is a dangerous man, a weapon in hand.
“Fuck no,” I sputtered out. “Just kill me. I-I would rather die.” I tilted my head up, and closed my eyes, awaiting the sound of the trigger firing.
But it never came. I tentatively opened my eyes to see Miguel’s mouth slightly open, corners of his lips twitching to a smile. His fangs seemed to shine purely from my fear. He dropped the gun on the floor, and I flinched. Miguel’s hands pressed to mine before I could attack him, his warm skin and talons awakening a buzz in my core.
Electricity was flowing through the air between us, thick and heavy and dense. I couldn’t think anymore- he was a distraction, a deadly infection over my senses.
Because I wanted more.
Without thinking, I let my body act on the pure instincts I’ve been fighting. My hips ground on Miguel’s muscles, and I clenched my knuckles under his palm.
The act of my body shaking on his made him dig his talons into the wood of the desk. He looked at me with shock, only for a second. And I drowsily stared into his eyes until that shock became lust again. He tensed his biceps, and smirked so confidently it drove me insane.
“Look at you. Having…“fun,” huh?” Miguel watched my hips again, an unnatural spike in his breathing. I couldn’t help my body as I rolled my groin on his hard body again, whimpering from the impact. I could feel the swirl in my gut from him, making the area between my thighs warm. I could feel how wet he was making me.
I think he could, too.
Miguel groaned softly, and the vibrations of his vocal chords sparked a fire inside of me. I began my to harden the pressure of my body on his, and Miguel staggered, letting his head drop near my neck.
“You gonna keep doing that to my thigh, (y/n)? I think you should aim a little higher.” He shifted his body, grabbing my hips and pulling me closer to him. I stifled my gasp. This wasn’t the plan- I shouldn’t be doing this with him.
But it was like I couldn’t control myself anymore. I let soft moans escape my mouth as I began moving my hips over his own.
And an unfamiliar lump under the fabric of his suit met my spread legs. Miguel groaned, and arched his head back, poking the soft skin of my ass.
He was hard.
I had never considered that Miguel would also have the same feelings for me. He let his hard palm slide up the small of my back, and I shivered, clutching his hand. When Miguel’s fingers hooked to the zipper near the neck of my neck, he bit his lip, his dark eyes traveling over the movement of my body. “I never knew you were such a slut, (y/n).”
At that, I dropped my head on his shoulders, rasping for breath. My desire was painful. I needed release from this feeling, and he was the only one who could grant it.
Miguel chuckled, sliding the zipper down slowly, and the cold air of the basement meeting my skin formed goosebumps on my shoulders. The suit fell of my chest, exposing my breasts and stomach. Miguel took a long breath, and snaked his thick hands on my bare waist.
I clenched my teeth together, blinded from the flame of his touch. His fingers met the low of my breast, and I threw my head back, grabbing the muscles of his back. I knew he was playing with me- letting his desire for my pain and pleasure mix into a horrible game.
And a strange part of me loved it.
Miguel bared his fangs, a low growl drawling from his lips. His fingers skimmed the sensitive buds of my nipples, and he let his sharp claws swirl over the area. My thighs clenched at that, pressing my hips over his hardened dick. “Please.”
Miguel jerked my body to his, arching my back with his hand on my spine. His eyes were intense, drowning my body with tingles in each place he let his gaze fall over. “Please, what? Be specific, cariño.”
I heaved a breath. “Touch me.”
Miguel stared up at me, electricity intensifying between us. He slid his hands to my hips, rolling the fabric down my thighs. I rocked my ass up, letting him completely undress me. As I kicked the latex off my body, Miguel quickly pulled my body forward, and I yelped, now completely on my back.
With white knuckles, I reached for the sides of the desk, but Miguel grabbed my arms and pinned them over my head. I squirmed, feeling the liquids of my pussy spilling on the hard wood under me. I was so desperate, and he was toying with me. Teasing me.
“No. I’m not letting you enjoy this yet.” Miguel’s voice was gruff, almost unrecognizable as he yanked my body, an invisible warning. Miguel walked away, quickly coming back. I didn’t know what he brought, until Miguel shoved a ball of fabric in my mouth.
He fucking gagged me with my own glove.
Before I could pull the fabric out of my mouth, Miguel grabbed another article of clothing from the floor- my suit. I furrowed my eyebrows, pleading him to stop- but Miguel clenched his jaw harder, and brought my wrists up. In a couple swift movements, he tied my hands together with my suit, so hard that I could feel the throb of my heartbeat in my wrists. He dropped my limp hands, and grabbed my upper thigh. Miguel, eyes fixated on my crotch, slowly spread my lips. When he saw my wet body, Miguel growled again, biting his lip so hard I was surprised he hadn’t drawn blood.
“Qué zorra tan hermosa.” Miguel let his lip slowly drag from his teeth, and watched my shivering body was a terrifying predatory stare. When he slid two fingers over my clit, spreading my pussy, my eyes widened embarrassingly, and his teasing caused a renounced ache in my stomach. Miguel rubbed his fingers over the base of my cunt, and I arched my back, a silent beg for more. I needed more. Miguel let a finger play with the wet opening of my body, each of his breaths getting harder. I bucked my hips, and Miguel attempted to stifle a groan.
The dark of Miguel’s red irises were blending with the basement dimness. I watched his eyes flicker over my body, and slow penetration of a finger inside of me began to make its way between the folds of my body.
I gasped, choking on the fabric of my glove, and flayed hopelessly on the table. I had no idea how it came to this, why it came to this. But I craved more- I needed him, even if I hated him.
Miguel slid his finger so far it hurt, his retracted nails hitting the delicate sponge of my inner walls. I bucked my hips again, and with that movement, Miguel slid another finger in. I could feel my body clenching on his thick digits, and I curled my toes in anticipation. Miguel groaned at the sight, curling his fingers inside of me.
Each movement was driving me insane. He curled his fingers, slowly progressing to a euphoric pace. Desire was forming in my gut, the string of nerves coming undone with each pattern of his strokes.
I moaned under the fabric in my mouth, and Miguel stabbed his fingers farther inside of me- like my sound deserved punishment.
“Behave, (y/n). You don’t want me to hurt you again, do you?” He let one finger slide on the open wound above my rib cage, and I jerked my body from the white pain. Miguel smiled in a conceited way, and continued the rapid movements of his fingers. I twitched over his hand, feeling the hot rise of pleasure reach my skull. He breathed from his mouth, infatuated with my quivering body. The sight alone made my eyes roll, shivers controlling my body like tides.
“Enjoying yourself?” He laughed, but it was dry if humor. Miguel was turned on by the fact I was in pain. A pain derived of the irresistible desire he caused in me. Miguel pulled his slick fingers from my pussy, and I bit down on my glove from the release of pressure. My jaw ached from the mouthful of cotton, and my arms were sore from the position he put me in. Miguel dropped his eyes to my hips, and grabbed a fist of my hair and turned my body so I laid on my stomach. He massaged my ass greedily, and planted a sharp slap on the fat of my upper cheek. I jerked my head back from the pain, and Miguel laughed, as if this gave him energy. Vitality.
He grabbed the glove in my mouth, shaking it in my gums. “You want me to take this out? Huh?”
I nodded quickly. God, I was almost his toy at this point. Why was I doing everything he said?
Why did I like it?
Miguel chuckled again, and pulled the glove from my mouth. I salivated in my dry mouth, breathing heavily.
Miguel rubbed my chin, and held it up to his eyes. He was stripping from his suit. And making me watch.
My face flushed, even if he had already seen my exposed body- he was forcing me to watch him undress.
Miguel let the silky fabric slide drop from his frame, catching at his hips. His muscular chest rose and fell, the defined abs on his stomach sharpening from the breath. Everything he was doing was turning me on even more, and I hated myself for it.
“I’m gonna fill those pretty lips,” he muttered, so smoothly it made my mouth water for the taste of something I’ve never known. He pushed the fabric all the way down, kicking it off his ankles in a swift movement. My eyes caught his cock, and I exhaled with admiration.
He was erect, veins springing from his thick bronze shaft. The tip of his dick was moist, perfect and way too close to my mouth for me to do anything but try not to whimper. Miguel tilted his head casually, grinding his hips forward on my face. His dick slid against my soft cheek, and I scrunched my brows from the sensation.
I sealed my lips shut. Having him finger me was different- it was an act of pleasure for my benefit. But sucking his dick? It was a silent confirmation that he had complete control.
Miguel began sliding his dick over my cheek repeatedly, letting his head fall forward in concentration. I watched as his lower hips clenched with each movement, the veins meeting light again and again, mesmerizing me with the beauty of his body.
“Open.” Miguel’s voice was rawer than before, husky with the pleasure of my body meeting his edged dick.
I shook my head, biting my cracked lip down. I don’t know if I would even have free will after my mouth met his cock.
Miguel grabbed my scalp, and pulled my hair up, forcing my head all the way back. “Am I gonna have to make you?”
“I-“ My voice was hardly a whisper.
Miguel sprung his talons from his fingers, letting his index finger trail the part of my lips. He dug his finger in the slit of my teeth, and I released the tension of holding myself back. I opened my mouth, feeling the warm, rough skin of his finger pads.
Miguel didn’t hold back the low groan of his finger meeting my wet mouth. Knowing that I made him feel that way- it made me crazy. I rolled my tongue over his finger, like some dog obeying orders. It was like in this moment he was all I knew, all I remembered. Miguel grabbed his cock, letting the tip slide over my lips. And closing my eyes, I opened my mouth all the way, sliding his dick in my mouth, until the tip hit the hard gums of my inner mouth.
Fuck. I’m probably gonna regret this.
That’s it! Part two will be posted per request :)
#miguel smut#miguel o'hara x reader#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#across the spiderverse#into the spider verse#miguel o’hara#smut#miguel spiderman#miguel x reader#miguel x you#miguel x y/n#miguel o’ hara smut#miguel o’ hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara angst#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara fluff#miggy fic#miggy#astv fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#dark smut
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Insurgency: The Uprising
Summary: A totalitarian regime reigns over a South American country in which the virus is being distributed to its citizens at the pretense of a “cure.” Leon was sent to retrieve a sample of the virus mutation when he stumbled upon a group of anti-government activists whose main goal is to overthrow their government. Will Leon help the cause or will he fall down with the government as well?
Warning: Mentions of mature themes. Read at your own discretion. Slow burn. Age gap (Leon is 38 and reader is 21+). Reader is female.
Word count: 4,750
A/N: this is an idea I had for a book I wanted to write. I love dystopian books and movies so I really wanted to write something like this. This will be a series lol.
[part one][part two][part three][part four][part five][part six][part seven][part eight][bonus]
“The relief of giving in to destruction.” - Franz Kafka, Diaries.
“This is an urgent message from the president. This is an urgent message from the president. This is an ur-“
“Hello citizens of Pruye,” the TV warning got interrupted by the screening of a middle aged woman sitting down on a desk. Her suit was black as a flag stood behind her. The colors blue and green with a crest on the far left corner- a serpent. The woman had a brown bob with a few grey hairs. Her eyes were deep brown as her lips remained a bright pink. Her rosy cheeks puffed out the look of exhaustion as she embodied the feeling of a confident and strong leader,
“Today is an important day that all must remember. Tonight, we will launch the cure of all illnesses. The immunity to life. We shall bring peace and harmony all throughout the globe. A change never seen in history… until now.”
“Membario will become the new pharmaceutical phenomena. Our people worked hard for this cure and we shall be the first ones to prove to the world that we, too, can make history. Tonight, you all will be receiving a sample of this cure. Tonight, we will boast in the celebrations of what it feels to be victors! We are proud Pruyanians!”
The TV got turned off by someone, your coworker, “What a bunch of mierda,” Your coworker was an old man, a veteran who served in the war and now worked at where you worked. A canteen right in the middle of downtown Pruye. The streets were made of cement but had plot holes from previous battles.
The Pruyanian government, right before the current president won the election, was peaceful and harmonious in which it allowed citizens to have a voice. After President Mendez took charge, she changed everything.
Streets were patrolled by the Pruyanian soldiers who proved their loyalty to the country. Laws were changed and made to accommodate the president’s demands.
“I just don’t understand why it’s such a big deal, it’s just a drug like opium or morphine,” he continued with a grumpy voice.
“C’mon, Franco. Don’t be a buzzkill. Imagine how rich we can be if we were to sell it to other countries?” Another coworker said, a young woman in her early twenties with dyed hair. Red fiery hair covering what was a previous black raven shade.
Franco snorted as he stared at the TV and then back at the young woman, “Don’t tell me you actually believe her words? She’s manipulating us!”
You sighed and went to clean up a few tables, “You two fight like politicians.”
“Look- I’m just saying is that there are better ways to make a living. I don’t want to work here for the rest of my life,” the young woman replied as she too helped you clean around the canteen.
“Too bad, Esme,” Franco replied as he opened a newspaper and began to read, “Life’s a bitch and you can’t do anything about it.”
Esme raised her brow and looked at you for a brief moment, “He gets old but not his spirit, eh?” She nudged you with her elbow gently.
You stifled a chuckle and shook your head as you went back to the kitchen to clean the used dishes.
It’s always been you three working here. Esme, Franco and you were like family. After President Mendez delivered the order to kill all those who opposed her, your family became a target.
Your brother, around 16 years old, died right before a ceasefire was called. He was with his friends when a group of Pruyanian soldiers appeared and shot him. The cause for the shooting? He defied a soldier and showed insubordination.
Since then you’ve grown resentment to the government- specifically President Mendez.
The ground shook as you were cleaning the dishes. You slowly approached the open door entry along with Franco and Esme, watching as battle tanks drove through the city.
“Coño… what are they doing over here?” Esme asked faintly as she watched the tanks and army pass by. Their uniform blue with the serpent crest embedded on their arm. The red serpent you’ve seen all throughout the city.
“Must be presidential orders,” Franco pointed to a big screen on a tall tower. The tower stood right in the center of the city layout. Its purpose was to guide those who are lost- or maybe it was to show who the powerful ones really were.
You and Esme turned your attention to the big screen, watching as a countdown took place. They were about to distribute the cure to the citizens in 6 hours.
Esme huffed in annoyance and went back to stare at the soldiers pass by. Their boots echoing through the humid streets of Pruye as they held their weapons with a firm grip.
“They’re securing the area…” you whispered as you furrowed your brows. You turned back to look at the screen and listen to what the president had to say, “We will be patrolling the following areas- Pucalara, Miguén, San Jolonia, and San Bandero. Do not be alarmed, this is standard protocol.”
Currently, you were in San Bandero. The heart of Pruye. The soldiers all surrounded the city and held their rifles close to themselves. You watched as the tanks all moved inward, closer to the tower.
“They’re locking us in…” you spoke faintly as you quickly walked back inside the canteen. Esme and Franco exchanged a look as they followed behind you, seemingly confused.
“This isn’t protection like she claims- no. She’s locking us inside the city-“ you frantically said as you got your bag and jacket.
“Y/n, slow down. How do you even know that?” Franco put a hand on your shoulder to calm you down.
You shook your head as you swung your jacket around your shoulders, “I don’t. But knowing her… she’s hiding something and I don’t want to be here for that.”
You walked out of the canteen and walked down the sidewalk towards where the soldiers were blocking an exit. As you neared them, a soldier held out his rifle and aimed at you as he spoke through his helmet, “Turn back around. You cannot leave the area.”
You raised your hands in the air and took a step forward, resulting in the other soldiers pointing their guns at you, “I said- turn back around! Now!”
With a glare you slowly took steps back as you walked away from them. They weren’t letting people out which meant that they were also not letting people in.
As you walked back to the canteen, you noticed how people began to get out of their houses and grow confused at the soldiers. Why were they blocking the exits and entries of the city?
Right as you were about to walk inside the canteen, shots were fired. You crouched down to the floor and covered your head with your arms as you looked over your shoulder and saw soldiers shooting the civilians with weapons launching at them.
Your eyes widened at the sight of the people with machetes and guns fight each other. The sound of bodies falling down to the floor as well as the blood seeping through their lifeless bodies, staining the cement under them.
Rain began to pour down, making it hard for the soldiers to see through their helmets. You watched as a person stabbed a soldier from behind with their knife but then fall to the ground dead as the soldier behind them shot them in the head.
This was war.
-
Leon was called to the main office of the organization he was currently working at. Which was for the government. He found himself inside the White House again for some reason.
As he waited inside a room, he couldn’t help but notice how bright and sunny the weather had been lately. Which was a contrast to what he felt. Drained and exhausted.
The door opened gently and two men dressed in expensive suits stepped inside with a file in their hands. They approached where Leon had been sitting and sat on the couch across from him.
“Good news, your request for a getaway vacation has been approved,” one of the men, balding and tired, said as he laid the file on the coffee table between them. Leon leaned forward to pick it up and go through it.
“And the bad news?” Leon asked without glancing at them.
The other cleared his throat before speaking, “You’re being sent to another virus mission.”
Leon looked up from the file to stare at the two men. Another mission about the virus, when will it ever end?
He sighed as he closed the file and leaned back against the couch, “So another zombie apocalypse. Great, just what I fucking needed…” he whispered as he put the file back on the coffee table, “No.”
“No? What do you mean no? This is important, people’s lives are at risk and we can’t-“ Leon quickly interrupted the balding man.
“You can’t save everyone when it comes to this. I’ve seen it many times, why don’t you all just do what you did back in Raccoon City, huh? Bomb them until there’s no trace of the virus,” Leon got up and began to walk towards the door.
“This is different,” the other man said, causing Leon to stop in his tracks. “This isn’t like the virus you’ve seen before… this is much more dangerous.”
Leon turned around to look at the two of them before walking back to sit on the couch. “Go on.”
“Ahem-“ the man continued, “South America. The branch wants you to go over there and retrieve a sample of the virus. That’s all you have to do. Once you give us the sample, we’ll proceed from there and you’ll get your vacation.”
Leon narrowed his eyes at him, growing suspicious of how easy the mission sounds, “You aren’t telling me everything, are you?”
The balding man laughed nervously and readjusted his black tie, “Not per se-“
“There’s a revolution going on in the country of Pruye where you’re being sent to. They mutated the virus’s genetic code into something more dangerous and they’re using it as medicine- I believe you know where this is going,” the other man said.
Leon nodded and kept quiet as the man talked, “The government is planning on distributing this ‘medicine’ to other countries but we cannot let them. Your mission is not only to retrieve a sample but to also stop the spread and destroy the evidence of the virus ever existing. You will be given a team- both air and land to help you complete your mission. Your task is not let others know the real reason why you’re there. You are acting as a soldier proving aid to the government. Once you have retrieved the virus sample, we will pull you out of the country and bring you back.”
“This time I’m actually getting help. Nice,” Leon replied sarcastically. It was obvious that Leon wasn’t all too excited about this. He’s been used as a killing machine ever since Raccoon City. He’s been tossed around the globe with expectations of solving everyone’s issues. And he’s tired. He’s 38, he should be worrying about other things other than war and death.
His hands rested on his thighs as he began to stand up from the couch, “When do I leave?”
“First thing in the morning, you’ll be on a private plane provided by the government,” the balding man answered.
Leon nodded before finally walking towards the door and exiting the room. As he walked down the halls of the White House, he wondered what life would be like for him. Is this all he’s ever going to do? Was his life purpose about fighting and killing? He couldn’t wait to retire.
-
Smoke covered the entire block. Rain poured down harshly against your skin, causing your hair to stick to you like glue. The smell was of gunpowder and metallic blood infiltrated your nose. A vision full of haze as you stood up from being crouched down on the floor.
Blood.
A lot of blood.
They brought tanks and a helicopter. “¡Al suelo!” Someone yelled.
You got down on the floor as an incoming tank shot a building, causing it to crumble down just a few feet away from the canteen. Your eyes widened in horror at the sight.
People screamed- from pain and from the fight. You got up and ran to try and find Franco and Esme. You needed to get them out of here now.
You staggered as you ran towards the canteen. The debris that had fallen over from the building covering the road. You jumped and ducked as soldiers hid behind them and shot at anyone who they deemed a threat.
Panting through the bloodied streets, you had reached the canteen. You heard groaning and some yelling more up ahead.
You didn’t know what took over you but you found yourself running towards that sound. As you approached the yelling, you saw that Esme had been hit by a piece of debris from the collapsed building. Her leg had been squished and she desperately tried to pry the piece off of her. You kneeled down beside her and pushed the debris aside, watching in horror what had happened to her leg.
Her bone broke and penetrated her skin. Snapped in half like a twig. There was blood pooling down her leg. You froze, you didn’t know what to do. You weren’t a medic but you also weren’t heartless enough to leave her.
You took off your jacket and applied it to her wound, hoping you could at least stop the bleeding. She gripped your arm as she let out a bloody scream in pain.
“Estoy aquí- respira. Todo va estar bien-“ you tried to calm her down but she let out another yell, “y/n it hurts- grragh”
Of course it hurt, her bone was poking out of her skin.
“Where’s Franco?” You asked as you tried to get her distracted from the pain.
She didn’t respond and instead pointed to a mountain of rubble. Metal rods and pieces of cement fell down on top of people. You could see limb pieces- arm, legs. But you couldn’t recognize all of them.
Your eyes followed her finger as she pointed to the gore display.
“He’s under there…” she replied weakly and let out another pained scream.
You felt your breath catch in your throat as your heart rate quickened. Slowly standing up, you walked over to the mountain of rubble. “Franco?” You called out in a panicked tone.
Silence.
You hurriedly kneeled in front of the mountain and hastily moved the rubble away. Taking piece by piece as you denied the thoughts scurrying through your head.
Almost immediately, your heart dropped down to your stomach as you recognize the veteran necklace. With shaky hands, you reached for the necklace and took it.
Franco was dead.
Your vision blurred as you held the necklace on your chest. You let out a blood curdling scream as you trembled in horror.
The ground shook as more bombs blew off. Troops stampeded through the streets, their weapons aimed at the citizens of San Bandero.
You went back to Esme and tried to pick her up, “Come on,” you grunted as she leaned her weight on you.
Dragging her alongside you, you managed to walk further away from the city and towards the exit. The soldiers bordering the entry/exit road had been killed and now laid there lifeless. Their uniforms stained with the red tint of what could be assumed was their blood. Maybe it was also someone else’s.
As you managed to get her out of the city, you walked through the dense forest and laid her down on the ground as she leaned against a tree.
“I’m going to get help- stay here and don’t make a single sound-“
“Leave me,” Esme interrupted you. Her gaze defeated and weak as she looked up at you. “I’m only going to slow you down. You need to get out here…”
Your eyes softened at her, “I can’t leave you, Esme. You’re coming with me-“
“For fuck’s sake y/n! Just go!” She cut you off again. She sighed and closed her eyes. “Just go…”
You stared at her in silence, your feet frozen in place.
“Esme…”
“Just go. I’m not going to live, you saw what they were doing to us… please, Y/n… just go…” she rolled her head back against the tree and grunted softly in pain.
You stared at her in silence as you contemplated your next actions.
“Y/n, go to La Séten mountain…” she heaved as she tried to breathe, “There’s- there’s a group of people who can help you, give them this.”
She weakly handed you a piece of paper with writing on it. You took it and put it in your pocket as you nodded shortly.
“I will…” you whispered as you looked into her amber eyes, “I’m sorry, Esme…”
Esme gave you a weak and faint smile, “Don’t be sorry… promise you’ll live… for me…”
You nodded and held her hand as your eyes welled up in tears, “I will.”
You leaned closer to her and gave her forehead a gentle kiss. She closed her eyes and exhaled for the last time in her life.
You stifled a sob as you let go of her hand. You’ve lost Franco and now Esme too.
You walked through the forest, making your way to the mountain Esme mentioned.
-
“Madam President, the city states have been seized and are under troop surveillance.”
“Wonderful, let the Chief in Command proceed with the plan. We mustn’t delay the delivery.”
“Yes, Madam President,” the female assistant walked out of the President’s office, the same one when the announcement was first made. President Mendez let out a soft hum and stared down at the files in her hands.
“Tonight, we will change lives Doctor Ramirez,” she spoke as Doctor Ramirez walked closer to her desk.
“Yes, we will Madam President and it’s all thanks to your help. Without your sponsorship, we couldn’t have progressed so quickly with our research,” Doctor Ramirez was a tall and lanky man with glasses. His hair was neatly parted at the side and his white coat shielded the suit he was wearing underneath. He exuded wealth and power, much like the President herself.
President Mendez laughed and clapped her hands slowly, “Oh.. Doctor Ramirez, you are too humble.”
“Not all Madam President… not at all,” he replied with a quiet tone. His eyes unreadable.
-
The path to La Sénte Mountain was a rough one. It’s one of the biggest mountains in San Bandero that has been classified as unreachable. There was an abandoned trail that originally was used for horse riding but ever since the country got ruled over by President Mendez, everything turned industrial.
Trees aligned the rail as the tall grass reached up your shins. It had gotten dark by the time the bombs and the shootings all faded in the background. As you took a step up, you turned back to look at the city that was once your home become occupied by soldiers. The helicopter flashed its light in search for citizens. There was smoke and fire coming out of the city from where you stood.
You couldn’t believe this was happening. With a sigh, you continued your trail up the mountain. Unknown to you that you were being watched by eyes hidden in the grass, trees, and bushes.
Hours passed and it was now some time past midnight. You took a break to catch your breath. Sitting down on a rock, you took out the piece of paper Esme gave you.
It was a small map with the word ‘Insurgents’ on it. The map was a layout of Pruye, it contained information about where each government and army building was located around the coast as well as the center of the country.
You tucked it back into your pocket not before hearing a twig snap. Anxiety quickly coursed through your veins and you got up to leave. Whatever was out there was probably not friendly given the current uprising in the country.
With a force against your feet, you kept climbing up the mountain. Climbing for what felt hours until you saw an orange light emitting from a cave.
Fire. Someone had lit up a camp inside a cave in the mountain.
You gripped the edge of the cave and pulled your body up. As you entered, you were immediately met with guns pointed at you. There were about four men pointing their rifles at you as you climbed up. A woman came up to you and dragged you up by your arm, helping you stand on your feet.
There was a table right in the center of the cave with a lantern. And behind that table stood a woman with a scar across her face. Her eye a different color as the scar ran right through it.
“Hold your weapons,” she raised her hand to stop the men from shooting you. The men took two steps back and slowly lowered their weapons. The woman who helped you up left your side and walked back to where the other woman was standing.
“I assume you were told about us,” she began as she went around the table and walked to stand in front of you. She was taller than you by at least two inches. Her hair was short and black. Her skin tanned and full of freckles.
You nodded and took out the note Esme gave you, “A friend of mine told me to come here.”
The woman took the note and inspected it before giving it to the woman who helped you up.
“Another recruit, Esme was really good at recruiting more people,” she said casually. Your eyes widened, she knew Esme?
“I don’t suppose you know what we do or who we are?” She walked back to the table and motioned for you to follow behind her.
As you neared the table, there were papers scattered around messily. Maps and files with important information. The woman turned to you and took out her hand for a handshake, “Name’s Yanira. Welcome to Insurgents.”
You took her hand and shook it with a firm grip, “Insurgents? What are you guys?”
She let go of your hand and focused back down on the table, “We are an organization looking to overthrow President Mendez from her position. She and her minions have been controlling our land far too long. It’s time we claim back what’s ours.”
An anti-government group. And they’re fighting the Pruyanian government for freedom. You furrowed your brows and stared down at the table as well as Yarina kept speaking, “We need as many people as possible if we want to make this happen. You’ve seen how they treat people back in the city states. Why don’t you join us?”
You looked at her with wide eyes, “What? Why would you want me to join? I don’t even know how to shoot a gun.”
Yarina chuckled softly, “You’ll learn. We’ve got plenty of people who can teach you different things,” she leaned closer to you, “We’ve been preparing for this moment. All we need is more help. And you- I have a feeling you can help us big time,” she whispered and then leaned away.
She focused back on the table and continued discussing whatever it was that she was talking to the other people.
Join them? You can help them? Up until now you were just a girl working in a canteen living paycheck to paycheck. And now everything turned upside down. The army has taken control of four city states and you’ve lost more people.
It was no lie that a war was coming but to actually partake in it was terrifying, at least to you. But witnessing how everyone seemed to have the spirit and the faith that everything will work out in their favor is beginning to persuade you.
What more do you have to lose? You’ve lost your family and now your friends. It’s time to fight back for what was once yours.
“Okay,” you nodded slowly and looked at Yarina.
“I’ll join you.”
Yarina smiled brightly and hung an arm around your shoulders, celebrating with the other insurgents.
It all felt so overwhelming yet so real. This was happening and there was no turning back.
“Okay, here’s everything you need to know so far,” Yarina pointed to the map.
“The coast has been guarded up by the navy army of Pruye. President Mendez sent out an order to not let anyone in or out of the country. The ports have been closed and the soldiers are patrolling the beach.”
She then pointed to the center of Pruye, right on San Bandero, “San Bandero has become the military center of the country and is where most of the soldiers have been patrolling. This is where their control comes from. If we can target and destroy their center from this point then we have a chance at liberating the other city states.”
You furrowed your brows, “It’s not easy. I’ve seen what they brought. Tanks and helicopters. Are you sure you want to target them first? What about the civilians?”
Yarina let out a soft exhale, “We can perform an underground evacuation- some of our soldiers will go in the sewers and take people out of the city towards the forest. Once the people have been evacuated, we will proceed and attack the main tower.” She then pointed to a tall building colored in red right in the middle of the map.
“This is where most of the military controls the country. If we can hijack and steal their data, then we can convince the rest of the country to join us. And we can also delay the soldiers from terrorizing other city states.”
She already had a plan for everything. No wonder Esme knew about this. If this group was this good then that means that there’s hope for liberation.
“Okay…” you began slowly, “What do you need me to do?”
“You, my friend, have a special mission,” she slid a piece of paper your way.
“The United States will send some troops over here to aid President Mendez. I want you to go back to San Bandero with a few of my people and infiltrate their meeting location,” her finger pointed to another building on the map, “This place is called La Fundación de Membario. It is heavily guarded by soldiers. The place is where President Mendez is currently staying at. She’s going to personally welcome the Americans and give them a run down of what Pruye has been up to. She’ll most likely tell them about us and knowing her-“ her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth as she stared at you.
“She’ll want the Americans to target us.”
You pinched your brows together and looked back down at the files of the American soldiers that were expected to come, “But why is the U.S. sending their military over here?”
“Because President Mendez sent an emergency alert to their President. She declared her country was threatened by us and needed backup. So, the U.S. playing God in all wars- decided to send their people over here to control us.”
You looked up at her from the files as she spoke again, “But you know what I think? I think they don’t stand a chance against us. We know the country better than anyone. They’ll die right before they can touch land,” she replied quietly.
She sounded like she wasn’t lying. It was a promise to herself and to the people of Pruye.
“When do I start?” You asked after putting the files back down on the table.
“Tomorrow morning. You can stay at our camp and we’ll teach you the basics. For now, you should rest. We’ve a long day tomorrow,” she patted your shoulder and walked deeper into the cave. The other insurgents gave you a look and some gave you a firm nod as they followed their leader.
You exhaled shakily as you looked out the cave. From now on, you were a soldier. No longer the girl working in a canteen. That life was long gone.
You were now part of the Revolution.
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon scott kennedy#resident evil#id leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#leon#di leon
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What can you tell us about the Grillbys? Grillbies?
Besides that fell Grillby is related to his Fell Sans
Here’s all my grillbies in “play”!
Grillby:
the og flame man himself! Grillby is an older flame elemental aged 477 and is from undertale. He stands at 6 feet and has a pretty reddish orange flame.
Grillby is a monster of few words. He’s not shy, just not the talkative type. He does have a lovely laugh though. He’s a bit of a snoop and uses his very impressive poker face to act like he isn’t listening in on his customers conversations lol. If you need good gossip, grillby probably knows all about it already ;)
He owns the bar, grillbys that now has two locations! The main one is in the heart of new ebott of course, and the second is a slightly more classy version in Steeler! While he’s technically the owner, grillby still serves as the bartender in the ebott city location.
Grillby is in fact soulbonded to his handsome soulmate Frosty, a pale blue water elemental. They have a single child together who’s well into her adult years now.
Things he loves: greasy fast food, suits, cute little dogs, playing poker, his soulmate of course, puns, juicy gossip
Felby:
An older flame elemental from underfell, fellby has a purple flame aged exactly 500 this year. He stands at 6’5
Felby is a very grumpy hissy monster. He’s the perfect picture of “get off my lawn!!”. He’s unusually solitary for a monster, prizing his peace. While he is charming when he flirts, he never seems to keep relationships for long. This fact doesn’t seem to bother him though.
Felby had an illegal moonshine bar before the crash, and afterwards, using those skills of his in making unnecessarily strong drinks, he had a fake license made and now runs Fireball, a club only for those wanting to get absolutely wasted. It’s located in Steeler city.
Fellby never soulbonded, but he did have a string of lovers over the years, one of which resulted jn two sons, red and edge. They were a poorly planned attempt by their father(gaster, who carried) to get Felby to commit. Obviously it didn’t work and he doesn’t have any contact with his kids even now
Things he loves: alcohol, hook ups, rap music, leather clothes and furniture, the ocean
Spinby:
Spinby is a middle aged flame elemental, aged 388, from underswap! He has a pale yellow flame and stands at 5’9
Spinby is… he’s something that’s for sure. This guy is totally nuts. Combine a hippie, a circus performer and a child who just drank a 5 hour energy and you have Spinby! He’s incredibly creative and even more bouncy. And he dresses like a walking rainbow lol
Spinby owns an adorable milkshake and donut cafe in mettaland! The whole building is all rainbow pastels and he’s famous for his candy inspired shake flavors! The place is called sugar-spinner!
Spinby has the worst luck with love, but he hasn’t given up on it yet! He’s had a string of brief romances over the years, most of his partners being turned off by his constant cheer. He has an amazing friend group though that keep him down to earth and from getting too lonely
Things he loves: candies, cakes and shakes!, tie dye clothing, disco, bright colors, romance movies
Steallby:
Steallby (and yes that’s his actual name) is a dark blue flame elemental from swapfell. He’s older, aged 490 and stands at 5’10
Steallby is a very anxious monster. He’s quiet around strangers and does his best to blend in with the background, but with friends he’s a bubbly chatty monster. While he can play the nasty aggressive fell monster, he’s really just a shy baby. He’s a sweetie if one gets to know him
Steallby owns a small hole in the wall restaurant specializing in soup and bread! He calls it Soul food, and it’s located in the slums of new ebott
He had used the crash to escape his abusive ex-soulmate the water elemental sickle. He even managed to break the bond before his ex could find him. These days, Steallby has been slowly coming out of his shell and learning to enjoy life again.
Things he loves: fresh baked bread, stainless steal cooking wares, bird feeders, winter foods, snow, soft spoken people
Grills:
Horrortale grillby, he’s ten years older than his counterpart, 487 and stands at 7’1. His flame is slight dulled these days, but is still the same reddish orange
Grills is even quieter than grillby if that’s possible, and somehow is even nosier lol. He’s stopped caring about acting dignified and is quite obvious when he’s eavesdropping. He’s a gentle sort of personality, and despite his scary appearance, many consider him soothing to be around
Grills was hired by grillby when leaving the institution healing the horror monsters after the crash. He works weekends as the bartender on grillbys days off
Grills was extremely lucky to survive the famine with his mate frost (previously known as frosty). They enjoy a slower life together, loving the peace of the surface
Things he loves: any food, his soulmate frost, reality tv, comedy shows, card games
Chillby:
Chillby is a baby blue flamed fire elemental from outertale! She is aged 436 and is 6’2 feet tall
Chillby is a sweet and playful monster who seems to just ooze curiosity. She’s an experimentalist and is all about those new life experiences. She prizes variety and adventure above all else
Chillby is a rather famous food critic in ebott. She’s a great writer with a sensational flair to her reviews, and her good media presence means that cafes and restaurants are actually excited to see her.
Chillby is happily soulbonded to icee and whooly, a grey water elemental and a white earth elemental. The triad all work remotely so they plan all their travels together!
Things she loves: sweet foods, airplanes, zip lines, hiking and her soulmates of course
Farbon:
Farbon is a large flame elemental from drakefell. He has a deep burgundy flame and his natural body shape includes two large flaming dragons wings, although most of the time he concentrates on keeping them in since they always get in the way. He’s aged 501 and stands at 6’8
Farbon is a stoic and dutiful character. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor but is kind enough to pity laugh even if he doesn’t get the joke lol. He’s also oblivious as hell and will not know if you flirt with him.
He works as a blacksmith, focusing more on precious metals and small dainty creations instead of the more large hardy creations of other drakefell monsters. He’s commissioned pretty often by Ollivander to make decor for his banks.
Farbon against all odds somehow was seduced wedded and bedded by chilbell, a drakeswap water elemental. Chill bell (or chillie as he likes to be called) took one look at Farbon, spent weeks flirting trying to catch his attention, and finally had a breakdown in where he yelled at Farbon for being dumb as a brick, kissed him and asked him on a date all in the same breath. The rest is history and the two are happily soulbonded and have their first child, a toddler flame elemental, together
Things he loves: gold and silver, his soulmate, pretty metal trinkets, spring flowers, potatoes
Dolby:
Dolby is a yellowish orange flame elemental from theatretale. He stands at a shorter 5’6 for an elemental and is aged 399.
Dolby is not one for noise or theatre despite the au he’s from. Instead he’s a man of the written arts. It makes him considered unusual to his fellow theatre monsters, but outside of that au, he’s seen as a rather chill and average guy. He’s a normally quiet monster with a talent for telling jokes at the best time. You never know when he will speak, but when he does it’s hilariously amazing.
Dolby owns a simple cafe in Steeler called cup o’ coal. Its main seller is coffee of course but it also does sandwiches. The cafe is pretty popular with artists and writers because of the book clubs Dolby likes to host there, and the very comfy seating areas
Dolbys soulmate, treble, is a tan earth elemental with a gorgeous deep husky voice. Their childhood sweethearts and trebles voice is the only one that Dolby considers more beautiful than his novels and poetry. They had a child together as well (now an adult himself) and he’s the only “grillby” child to not be another flame elemental. The kid is a handsome grey earth elemental
Things he loves: his soulmate, poetry, coffee, whipped cream, tragedy novels
Phoenix:
Birdfell grillby, he’s a crimson red flame elemental with a massive flaming red pair of wings resembling an albatross! He’s a young 202 and stands at 6’7. He’s bloody gorgeous by monster standards
Phoenix’s wings aren’t the only big thing he has ;). His ego is massive. Being treated like a prince because of his looks has definitely creeped into his personality. Thankfully he’s a sweetie at his core, and while he can come across as big headed and condescending at times, he’s also very generous and friendly with every one around him.
Phoenix is one of ebotts top models. He’s in every years swimsuit edition despite not being a water type monster, and he’s especially famous for this one photo shoot advertising mellow marts new type of cheese by posing on a fur rug and pouring the melted cheese all over his… actually that’s not important. The pictures are a collectors item now though since they’ve been retracted.
Phoenix is surrounded by suitors, but he’s never had eyes for any of them. Or anyone for that matter. He’s just never had an interest in romance. He does adore making friends and keeps the ones that stick around close to his chest.
Things he loves: cheese, showing off his beautiful body, photo shoots, pedicures and manicures, photo shoots with babies and baby animals for those sexy calendars of hot men holding adorable things.
Kelby:
Kelby is a fierce golden flame elemental from fellswap gold. She is aged 477 and stands at 6’6
Kelby is fierce, stern and magnetic to those around her. She’s a monster many look up to and idolize. And she really is all that. She’s an incredibly talented individual who can back her confidence up. Don’t cross her though, her temper burns hot.
She’s the owner and head chef of a prestigious seafood restaurant in Steeler. Her place is a favorite of the royal, Empress and for good reason. Everything tastes heavenly. She runs her kitchen with an iron fist
Kelby always prized her career first, and prided herself as one of the few gold monsters in high society who got there on pure talent. No blackmail needed, a true feat really, so she never had time for romance. She is open to a partner these days though
Things she loves: seafood and meats in general, ballet, weightlifting, champagne and pretty scarves
#undertale imagines#undertale headcanons#worldbuilding#undertale#swapfell#underswap#underfell#horrortale#outertale#birdfell#fellswap gold#drakefell#theatretale
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heyy! hope you're having a good day so far! i was wondering if i could have some headcannons of the stardust crusaders reacting to the fem! reader who's stand powers are mostly based on dreams that she had in the past? forgive me if this all is confusing (i've never really thought deep into a made-up stand power before 😅), but basically, whatever happens in a particular dream (ex: a person slips and falls on the floor), as long as the reader can remember certain details or events, when her stand touches a person (doesn't even have to be a punch, the stand could literally poke them for a brief second if it wanted), that person will be affected (as stated in my example: a person slips and falls in the reader's dream? the affected person will also slip and fall). however, the funny catch is that the reader tends to have strange dreams (some range from "ok, well that was weird" to "WHAT IN THE HELL WAS THAT?! DID I ACTUALLY DREAM THAT?!"), so the weirder/intense/funnier the dream, the more powerful the attack is. sometimes there will be moments where a stand user is defeated in the most hilarious way, which always leaves the reader laughing her ass off at the end of the battle LMAO. apologies again if this all sounds confusing! feel free to change some things up if you want to :) ty! <33
@klvbxlove
This is my first time writing headcanons for characters so I thoroughly enjoyed this, especially because this idea was so fun, thank you for requesting! I hope it's to your liking ^^ I also hope you don't mind me tagging you just to make sure you see this! I know sometimes questions I ask don't give me notifs when people answer lol
No warnings needed I don't think except uhh the reader's gender isn't mentioned because of 2nd person pov, and this is mostly platonic but Polnareff's section has a flirty comment because c'mon it's Polnareff. OH and no Iggy :(
Jotaro Kujo
-Jotaro is still relatively new to the whole situation regarding stands, and although he had thought he'd seen it all by now boy he couldn't be more wrong!
-I think he'd definitely be skeptical of the nature of your ability at first. You're practically able to change fate itself with a simple touch of your stand, it isn't until he sees it in action does he really start to accept how weird but strong the power can be
-Even if he won't admit it he's definitely curious if you've had any dreams involving him lol. Once he starts to believe your ability he'll grumble out something along the lines of "Keep that damn thing away from me" in fear of getting into an embarrassing accident as a result of the dreams
-If your stand happens to swoop in and save the day with some freak occurrence that rivals the likes of Joseph's most ridiculous plans, he's left in disbelief and tries to hide it by pulling his hat down and saying his most famous catch phrase. Expect to hear "Good grief." Every time your stand helps to incapacitate an enemy.
Noriaki Kakyoin
-Kakyoin is very polite when approaching the topic of your stand ability
-He's fascinated with the idea of you being able to control someone's fate in such a way, and is one of the ones who sees the most potential in this stand
-He'll try to protect and lead you in battle more often than not, because he also recognizes that this ability is not really suited for combat. Which is very sweet!
-He doesn't pressure you but definitely makes it known that he'd appreciate any heads up for any dreams that involve him. He doesn't really want to make a fool of himself anytime soon
Jean Pierre Polnareff
-Polnareff is like the second most fascinated with the nature of your stand, he's definitely curious if any of your dreams happen to mention him too. -He'd somehow find a way to make a witty one-liner out of the situation, it's just in his nature. "Ah, so you've been dreaming about me have you?"
-If you decide to tell him of any embarrassing fate that might befall him that day he'll kinda blush a bit and subconsciously shy away from you and your stand's touch while saying "O-oh? Is that so?"
-Please forgive him he's had enough embarrassment on this trip. Mans is traumatized lmfao
Muhammad Avdol
-Avdol, being a fortune teller himself, is probably the one most fascinated with your stand ability! He'll enthusiastically encourage you to tell him of your dreams every morning, so much so that it becomes routine
-He'll always thoughtfully and politely nod along, strategizing about how your premonitions can be used in battle against enemy stand users
-He gets embarrassed if any of your dreams involve him, especially if it's something silly. He feels like he has to apologize for you seeing such an uncharacteristic display
-He will definitely give a hearty chuckle about anything else you tell him about the crusaders though. You've seen how mischievous he can be at times, if it's something non life threatening he'll even subtly encourage you to touch them with your stand. It's like a little inside joke you both get to be on!
Joseph Joestar
-If there's even a mention of himself in your dreams you bet your ass he wants to know every detail! If it's something funny/ridiculous he'll sort of scoff and hide his embarrassment, claiming that such a thing would never happen to him!
-Until it does.
-He'll never get used to seeing this ability in action against enemy stand users, like Jotaro he might even be skeptical and teasing/condescending about it at first (because that's just how he is), and has never been humbled so fast than when you cause some sort of terrifyingly hilarious fate to befall someone
-After that he's like a persistent child, constantly inquiring about your dreams and abusing your stand's power to the fullest, especially to help him out of a tough spot
-He'll get a bit ahead of himself, so you'll have to remind him sometimes that your ability works in a specific way, and no you can't make something happen to an enemy naturally because they're kicking yall's ass in battle lol
#jojos bizarre adventure#jjba#jjba part 3#stardust crusaders#jojo sdc#sdc x reader#stardust crusaders x reader#headcanons#jotaro kujo x reader#noriaki kakyoin x reader#jean pierre polnareff x reader#muhammad avdol x reader#joseph joestar x reader#requests open
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so....... RA 301, "Lone Wolf"
high points:
• the two Greys (a middle manager and a trainee acc. to the end credits lmao) tackling human abduction logistics - "Well, you got the 'leave him inside the house' part right." LOL I'm currently in my UFO/UAP phase again, so this little moment (along w/ that hangar full of retrieved alien spacecrafts) was a treat. This whole abduction storyline continues to simultaneously creep me out and delight me to no end. It's an odd but good feeling, and I'm excited to see how it plays out. FINALLY they made me interested in Ben & Kate again -- already one major improvement over last season.
• Alan Tudyk. In a suit. Thank you.
• the interactions btw Sheriff Mike & Deputy Liv retain their golden status. I just love them.
Mike: Look, there goes a damn government drone watching us right now. Liv: I think that's just some mustard on the window. Mike: That's what they want you to think. You gotta trust no one, Deputy. Head on a swivel. You ain't never really safe until you learn to look behind yourself. Go ahead, watch your back. Go ahead. Do it.
• Kevin and her lil' kitty towel awww
• "I had to stop because of you. I will always have to stop because of you." !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is the stuff I'm here for. It reminded me of Hannibal: Tell me, Clarice. Would you ever say to me, "Stop? If you love me, you'd stop"?
The feelings, guys... the feelings I have are MANY and STRONG
but:
In general, Harry's characterization continues to frustrate me. We get a reminder how "going it alone" is hard-wired into his DNA. Even the two Greys are a brief counterpoint to this, presented as a team, supporting each other. But Harry still has to keep re-learning -- or more like re-realizing -- the basic tenet that confiding in Asta is the way to go, and we're already in S3. It just feels needlessly repetitive at this point. And hand-waving his behavior w/ "oh he just has the amorality of a child" is so... thin, such a basic cop-out. I know that emotional maturation is built on a long series of missteps, many repeated ones, but please let some stuff stick already so it can be built upon and keep things fresh. We have seen just how much development Harry's capable of in the character of Goliath. He is the best (a future) version of Harry and I'd really like to see him start moving in that direction now instead of coloring over the same lines ad nauseam.
That being said, the glorious clusterfck that is his relationship with Asta remains to be so fascinating. His alien core keeps crashing against his feelings for her and amidst all my frustration these moments somehow keep hitting the right sweeeet twisted spot for me????? I mean, apparently, he violated the Galactic Federation Charter 3 times already - for her. He def betrayed his own species - for her. First he was willing to save Earth - for her, now he would let the whole planet burn - for her. He then contemplates killing her to stop the fracture of his very being only to screech to a halt by her bed -- all of which is just...... WOW. He is so torn and confused yet so viscerally attached to her. He first calls her his kryptonite, then his Lois Lane. His core instinct is to protect her now and then try to fumble his way back to his mission, which is a complete 180 to how he behaved originally. So we def have development, I just wish they stopped trying to drown this precious nuance in a caricature. We have gold here, writers, let it shine.
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Giganterra (Chapter 22)
Author's Note: Don't worry guys, that's red chalk in the picture to indicate a hit, not blood! Also, I'm aware this chapter is not historically accurate in regards to fencing. I made changes for creative reasons, if that bothers you then sue me lol
Prologue/ TOC | Previous (21) | Next (23)
Content Warning: Very brief vore mention, vulgar language
Word Count: 2.1 k
------ Chapter 22: Fencing ------
Ronny had fencing lessons scheduled in the afternoon. He had a headache after being forced to use his brain in the morning, and he was not looking forward to waving a stupid stick around and sweating in the hot sun. He was even more cranky and irritable than usual as his manservant helped him suit up in his white uniform. He looked in the mirror, glowering at his reflection as he slicked back his black hair with a gloved hand. He hated to ruin his flawless appearance with dirt and filth.
As he gazed at himself in the mirror, he caught sight of the human house on his dresser and noticed the tiny woman inside was watching him with her palms on the glass. He’d forgotten she existed. A bolt of anger surged through him. He spun around with the ferocity of a beast and she fled from his sight. He resented his father for heaping all these burdens upon him: tutoring, fencing, a human pet. Ronny just wanted to be left alone, to be his own person. He was tired of living pinned under his father’s thumb.
He collected his fencing equipment, left his quarters, and exited the castle to go to the courtyard near the stables, where his fencing instructor, Sir Maneater, was waiting for him. Ronny was surprised to see a young man with him, dressed in the same distinctive white fencing outfit that he was wearing. When he came up, Sir Maneater bowed, and the young man next to him scrambled to follow his lead.
“Who’s this?” Ronny questioned gruffly, eyeing the young man.
“Ah, Prince Ronny, this is my squire, Joey. I brought him so you have someone to spar with.” Out of habit, Joey offered his hand to shake, but a stern look from his mentor prompted him to quickly retract it. Ronny punished his insolence with a condescending glare. He wasn’t going to debase himself to touch the hand of someone without regal blood.
“Let’s get this over with,” Ronny grumbled. Martin had his students stretch and warm up their muscles before they sparred. The prince glanced over at Joey as they practiced lunges and thrusts. Although the squire was about the same height as him, and lean in build, his form still rippled with healthy muscle. His movements were practiced and graceful, his limbs lithe and strong. Ronny couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated, perhaps even jealous. As a pampered prince, he lacked the same physical aptitude that Joey had gained through dedicated training.
“Alright, take your stances,” Martin instructed. Ronny and Joey donned their masks and picked up their rapiers, which were blunted on the tips and colored with red chalk to indicate a hit. Joey was considerably more intimidating when his kind, open facial features were blotted out by a mask. He took a stance, raising his weapon; Ronny mirrored him.
Martin indicated for them to begin and Ronny charged forward recklessly with a dramatic thrust. Joey hopped back with his limber legs, gracefully dodging his attack, then parried with a stab of his own. Ronny staggered back, a red chalk mark marring the perfect white of his uniform, dead center on his chest. He clutched his chest with surprise and stared down at the red. The whole interaction had ended so quickly.
Sir Maneater shook his head. “Don’t be so impulsive, Your Highness! You left yourself wide open! Try again.” Ronny prepared himself for another round, gripping the hilt of his sword, but was interrupted when both Martin and Joey dropped to their knees in a show of subservience. Ronny, puzzled, turned around to find his father standing behind him. As usual, he was flanked by his ever-watchful shadow, Ajax.
“Dad!” he exclaimed, nonplussed. He flushed with embarrassment at the big red stain on his chest, marking him as a failure. He was grateful that the king couldn’t see his face under the mask.
“Don’t mind me. Carry on with your training,” his father replied in a harsh, unloving tone. Ronny lowered his head, hunching his shoulders as he turned around in shame. Joey and Martin followed the king’s order and got back to their feet. This time, Ronny hung back, taking tentative jabs at his opponent while keeping his guard up. He attempted a thrust but his sword was knocked to the side and flipped out of his hand, followed up with the tip of his opponent’s sword touching his throat. Ronny gulped.
“Again!” the knight commanded. “Prince Ronny, you must show more strength in your attacks! And be cognizant of your footwork! You won’t be able to react fast enough if you’re not on your toes.” Ronny nodded, his cheeks burning as he recovered his weapon. He fingered his neck with dissatisfaction before taking his starting stance. He was stressed, knowing his father was watching him lose; his hands grew slippery with moisture on his sword handle.
Joey sensed the weakness in his opponent. In the next match, he was more aggressive, darting forward with agile strokes of his blade. Ronny defended himself successfully against the first few blows, but he couldn’t keep up with Joey’s speed or intensity. He tripped over his own feet, and his arm was slashed with red as he lost his hold on his rapier again.
“Ooh, that would’ve been a severed limb in a real fight!” King Richard jeered, laughing cruelly. Sir Maneater stepped in and gave Ronny tips to improve his footwork. Ronny nodded along, but in truth he was too flustered to listen. He panted with exertion as he sparred with Joey yet again, with the same results. Joey was light on his feet, gliding and dancing with startling swiftness, yet his blows were devastating in their strength. The prince was outclassed in every facet, from technique and skill to brawn and agility.
Before long, Ronny was covered in streaks and spots of red from head to toe. He’d been knocked to the ground several times, transforming the white on his back, knees, and rear to a discolored, dingy brown. He had no doubt that the squire would’ve cleaved him to pieces with a real sword. He was getting exceedingly frustrated and angry, particularly as he saw how disappointed the king was in his performance. Breathing heavily, he gritted his teeth, and a hot spark of spleen ignited his muscles. With an angry cry, he barreled forward, slashing wildly at his opponent with unprecedented viciousness like a rabid dog.
Joey was prepared, and dodged every swipe of Ronny’s sword with ease. Ronny’s strikes were savage, but unfocused and lacking technique. Joey waited for a good opening, then blocked and sank the point of his blunted weapon into Ronny’s solar plexus. Ronny doubled over in pain, temporarily winded.
“F... fuck!” he swore venomously. He snapped, completely losing his temper. He ripped off his mask and flung it into the bushes, leaving his hair a disheveled mess. He hurled his weapon against a nearby stone wall with a clang. “Goddammit!” Joey lowered his sword and stood in place, not sure how to respond. Ronny stomped towards him with clenched fists, as if he intended to beat the pulp out of him, but he halted, his face contorted into blind rage. Joey tensed up: If the royal wanted to assault him, he wasn’t sure if he’d be allowed to retaliate. However, to his relief, Ronny spun around on his heel and stomped off, tearing at his hair and screaming obscenities.
King Richard shook his head at the tantrum. “Pathetic.” He tilted his head at Sir Maneater. “Do you see what I have to put up with? A pathetic, weak, disappointing excuse for an heir!”
“He simply needs to apply himself. With more training, he can improve,” Sir Maneater replied. “Besides, Joey is very experienced by comparison. Perhaps I should tell him to go easier on the prince next time.”
“No. Ronny needs to do better,” Hardon insisted.
While the two giant men conversed, King Richard had Candy dangling from his necklace inside his tunic. He’d traded out Candy for Millie after eating the latter lady for lunch to sate his bloodlust. Candy was in a dull stupor, but when she heard Sir Maneater’s familiar voice she came to life, shifting against the giant king’s chest. She recognized that voice! Her handsome knight had finally materialized to save her from this unending nightmare! She cried out for him, beating her fists on the king’s skin and tugging on his chest hair.
The king stopped midsentence as he felt Candy’s microscopic fists tapping between his pecs. He smirked and reached into his shirt to pull her out, enclosing her in his giant hand. “Candy! Darling, why are you raising such a ruckus?” he teased, pinching her between his fingers. She wailed, floundering her arms and legs desperately.
“Let me go!” she howled. “Put me down!” King Richard sneered, a sharp edge of cruelty in his expression. He was enjoying her suffering.
“Martin, look at her! Isn’t she hilarious?” he jeered, holding her naked body up to face him. Candy froze, finding herself face to face with her crush. Martin’s heart stopped as he stared at her in horror, witnessing the full extent of Hardon’s barbarity. Candy’s blue eyes welled up with bitter tears.
“Please, Martin... help me...” she whimpered. “Save me!” The giant king laughed at her pathetic pleas.
Sir Maneater’s heart shattered into a million pieces. He wanted to break down sobbing, seeing the innocent woman’s torturous pain. He wanted to snatch her up in his hand and make a run for it. He wanted to take her far away from this hell, keep her safe, tell her everything would be alright. He wanted to give her all the love and tender care that she deserved. He wanted to stab the giant king in the heart with a dagger and twist the blade in the wound until he gushed blood and screamed for mercy.
Even as those tempting thoughts raced through his head, he knew he couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to get away with it even if he tried. He could feel the cold, suspicious gaze of the gargantuan guard above the king’s shoulder, ready to strike like a coiled serpent. Martin had seen for himself Ajax’s mighty strength and speed, many years ago during training exercises, before the legendary general was assigned to the king’s guard. Martin’s blade would never enter the king’s flesh: His wrist would be snapped by those powerful hands long before. His fangs could never taste the forbidden red fruit.
He was consumed internally with guilt, until he was nothing more than an empty shell. It was all his fault she was here, in the clutches of the evil king. He tried to reason with himself, to rationalize his choices. He was here for a reason: to mitigate the excesses of the king, to be a shield for the powerless—to take action at the right time, when the opportunity presented itself. He was playing the long game. But what good was that, when he couldn’t protect those he cared about? When the king was torturing this poor human woman right before his eyes, and he was helpless to stop him?
Candy’s countenance collapsed into pure despair as she realized that Martin was not going to save her. She sobbed violently as the giant tucked her back into her resting place inside his shirt. Her heaving sobs were muffled as to be barely audible under the fabric. The giant knight struggled to control himself, clinching his teeth so hard it felt like the enamel would crack under the strain.
“I really must be going,” King Richard remarked with nonchalance, indifferent to Martin’s internal turmoil. “It’s time to have a serious conversation with my son.” His brows and lips tightened with a severe expression. Martin bowed his head as the king left with Ajax lumbering off behind him.
Joey walked up and placed a hand on Martin’s shoulder. “Sir Maneater, are you alright? You seem tense.”
Martin sniffed and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “Just fine,” he mumbled, concealing his face.
“Oh... okay...” Joey said. After a pause, he continued. “Is—is the prince always like that? I feel kinda bad, demolishing him in front of his father like that. Maybe I should’ve gone easy on him...” He scratched his head. “Perhaps I should apologize.”
Normally, Martin would offer up measured advice to Joey’s inquiries, or bestow upon him some of his wisdom as his senior, but he couldn’t manage it in his current emotional state. “You’re dismissed, Joey. Training’s over today.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I... I need to go.” He hastened off without looking in Joey’s direction. His loyal squire looked after him, puzzled.
Chapter 23
#giant#g/t#g/t writing#tiny#giant/tiny#giant tiny#size difference#g/t story#g/t art#my art#gt writing#gt story#g/t angst#gt angst
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(I don’t have a ton of photos of him onhand ao here’s some really random ones)
Stex Appreciation Month Day 3: Greaseball
Fav actor: Honestly I’m not very picky on Greaseball in general so I don’t have strong preferences. I just like as low, rich, and powerful a voice as possible for him. Vocally I like Andreas Wolfram on the 2013 cast recording (being great at rapping in German with an Elvis inflection is one hell of a statement) and the very brief Megamix footage I’ve seen of Lashane Williams as him.
Fav song/scenes: Pumping Iron, One Rock and Roll Too Many and clowning around with Dinah in the megamix. Honestly I liked basically everything he was in onstage irl last year, he was probably my favorite of the main characters since his numbers are almost more fun if you don’t know what he’s saying and view Elvis Train as the real protagonist for saving us from the REAL big bad: romantic ballads.
What Time Is It? is offensively bad as a song but I just love the concept of him and Electra having a rap battle and wish it was longer/more intelligent and more about beefing with each other vs fighting over some girl they both barely know.
Fav costumes: I’m content with pretty much all of the replica ones, since they don’t vary too much
Ships/Friendships: Him and Electra as enemies with benefits especially if it plays up the irl arguments of diesel vs electric. It’s not a very deep relationship, they just want to kill each other but also make out violently. If they joined as comrades maybe they could beat their real shared nemesis (automobiles, and Trucker Caboose as a minion of them) once and for all. I’m way more invested in the potential of their rivalry vs the actual main plot tbh.
He doesn’t deserve Dinah (and she deserves better than him) but I don’t see them separating, they just seem too attached to each other. I definitely prefer their more recent dynamics where she’s way more assertive because it’s funny to watch her boss him around (I love Dinah harassing engines in general)
Headcanons: He’s practical and pragmatic, if perhaps a bit too dismissive of doing things in newer/smarter ways vs past proven ones. Electra thinks he’s disgusting the way nonsmokers view smokers (it’s how he is about most combustion engines) but finds something alluring about his diesel clatter and how he feels alien to someone who mostly works in urban environments where it’s electric-only.
Unpopular opinions: I’ve been haunted by the thought experiment of “what if Mykal Rand played him in another timeline?”. He’d probably pull it off but has SUCH an un-Greaseball face that you have to just forget about him looking like Elvis and find what else works with the general vibe and themes of the character. Which opens the door to “what else could they have done with Greaseball if he varied as much as Electra visually/character-wise?”
I think he’s fine as is and doesn’t need changing because he just works (there’s a looot of things that need fixed in Stex before even thinking about that). But if I had to modernize him slightly, I’d make him more like Gene Simmons/KISS in general to scoot him forward about two decades. Still a VERY visually iconic inspiration and it would barely change the vocal style, over the top macho character, and “rebel” turned rock establishment aspect. You’d even have a free excuse to finally give him some fun makeup for once! It would also be relatively easier to genderbend him because Gene sings a bit higher and his costumes have always tried to make someone lanky/soft look bulkier so you wouldn’t have to struggle to find actual Chadettes with the right look already.
In a similar vein, I also like the idea of cat facepaint Greaseball the longer I think about it. It’s such an ironic animal motif for a macho character but it suits the “cat whisker” livery of a lot of midcentury locomotives and the diesel engine purr/growl. Also ties into the KISS thing in a way that won’t lead to copyright issues lol
(I can’t really say much on Wembley Greaseball other that I’m intrigued by the concept and will draw my own idea of female Greaseball eventually (metal-leaning design based on Floor Jansen and Noora from Battle Beast). From what I’ve seen just doesn’t seem to look/act tough enough for me and the costume is too narrow/glossy for my liking but I think the idea has potential. I am always in favor of randomly butchifying male characters because it’s fun.)
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I have a couple reasons for liking pooltoys 👀
When I was younger (I think maybe 9?? 10?) I was alone in the pool at my grandparents. We had a classic intex whale, and I had been struggling for awhile to get on it. I was shorter back then, being a kid, and while I could stand up, it was up to my chest, so the top of the whale was relatively high up. So anyways I was fighting to get on that thing for a good 10-20 minutes.
Also, as a note, I don't get to go to my grandparents as often now. They live a good bit away, and also my mom has a poor relationship with her own mom (no blame to my mom btw, her grandma was a terrible mother lol). And it's too far for me to drive comfortably. But I love my grandfather, and their house has always been one of my favorite places that invokes a deeply strong sense of nostalgia in me. But anyways, I digress:
Since nothing had been on top of the whale for awhile, the black PVC had soaked up all the sun's warmth. Finally, I managed to clamber on top, and I think that's the most at peace I've ever been in my whole life.
I was exhausted from climbing up it, the warmth of the PVC was so cozy, and I fell asleep to the sound of the pool's ripples. Although I unfortunately don't have that whale anymore (Benji is a new one), I am transported to that same place of relaxation and peace when I'm on/around pooltoys.
They bring me back to a simpler time and place, where you don't have to think of anything like money or mortality, and, even if just for a moment, you can relax.
It took me awhile to find the community. I'd known about the pooltoys at furry conventions that people would take pictures with for awhile, but I only found out it was a whole thing thanks to Ash Coyote's video lol. The whole time watching it I felt just like when I first found out about furries lol ("omg!!! This is a thing??!?!?! There's other people who like the thing?!?! Yep this is my personality now.")
On the more nsfw side (I'll be brief dw), I'm a very texture focused person, and in my current living situation, it's difficult to have some things. It's a lot easier to explain why I have a pooltoy in my closet than something like a latex suit or other k1nk gear. But even then, it's not just convenience, it's the feeling of it pressing against you, the smoothness, the soft sounds of your hand running against the pvc. It's all just so... hot?? Also, it's a lot easier (and safer) than finding an actual person just for nsfw purposes whenever I'm in the mood (I'm a woman, so hookup culture has a lot of risks for me, and most of the time I don't care enough to bother lol)
So yea, tldr:
-Very calming experience with one when I was younger
-I'm a furry, so the aesthetic appeal is there
-Nice texture is nice
-✨️convenience✨️
Also sry if this is kinda rambley lol it's late for me and I love a good excuse to talk abt what got me into pooltoys lol
i love this so very much, there really is nothing like the sensation of just simply resting on the back of a toy. i went to a creek with my bf earlier this year and floated on the back of laguna (also an intex whale-- built for snuggling in the sun?) and was just totally blissed out.
this was a very sweet response, thank you for it :-) ❤️
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for the alternate love interests... okay i have several to ask for victoria... hanako arasaka... arthur jenkins... bryce mosley... alt cunningham (also apparently i had my asks turned off lol... didn't even realize)
i have, once again to the surprise of no one, rambled like a mother fucker in response. i apologise 😔
Hanako Arasaka
In brief they wouldn't work - like at all, but you know i love over-explaining: I touched on this in the Michiko ask but: Victoria has no innate love or respect for the Arasaka family. Though she'll certainly play her part as the respectful underling, she doesn't view them as Gods Among Men but painfully human, as fallible, as prone to death and mistakes as she is. And her opinions on Hanako are less flattering still; she sees her as a figurehead, pretty to look at and well-trained on what words and tone to use. And sure, she's a splendid netrunner - but it's easy to hone a skill when you have all-day, every-day to commit to it - Victoria holds more respect for the interns in counter-intel, whose lives are actually at risk when they get into the chair.
She might have garnered some respect for the Arasaka daughter after Saburo died and she was left to forge her own path - but the moment Hanako reveals Saburo's play and involvement? It all goes down the drain. Solidifies Victoria's view of the woman as little more than a pretty parrot.
Hanako, meanwhile, I believe would see Victoria as just another rank and file corpo, another suit who wants nothing more than to climb impossibly higher and higher even to their detriment. And she'll promise that with a smile, a gentle nod, steer their conversation into emotional territory because emotions are easy to wrangle - and she thinks by that furrow in Crane's brow that she's got her.
She sees Victoria as a fool for siding so publicly with Michiko, says as much with a gentle tone, like a parent asking their child why they've done something so naughty. Gives her the whole spiel about being Arasaka's heart, family and bloodshed, perhaps believing that Victoria's resentment of her dead half-brother was a passion thing, that she did it through a strong sense of family worth that Angelo ruined with his very existence. It's a severe misunderstanding of character on both their parts.
They have such low views of one another that they'd never get along or understand each other beyond pretense, but it's made especially worse when Victoria deliberately kills Yorinobu against Hanako's wishes.
Arthur Jenkins
I genuinely had to consider this for a bit, cos they'd be an interesting pairing - but in the way it's interesting to watch a spider web up a fly. Victoria, if she considered Jenkins as anything but a headache, would probably find some joy in fucking with him; encouraging his worst ideas in a subtle enough way that she could claim denial when it'd inevitably comes back to bite him, keeping enough of a distance that people wouldn't assume they're associated in any way beyond the thinnest threads of employment.
And Jenkins, well I imagine it'd play into a powertrip for him, a torrid, tense affair where he's cucking Adam fucking Smasher - it'd preen at his pride, make him feel a little bit invincible for a while. The apparent secrecy a thrill. Until Victoria grows bored, deigning him painfully predictable and moving on, sparing him nary a thought until he tries to wave his dick around, use his position against her, threatening to make Smasher aware-
it wouldn't end well for Jenkins, but when does it ever?
Bryce Mosley
I'll admit I haven't dug into Mosley all that much besides what we know from the Placide mission, BUT!!
He and Victoria have definitely rubbed elbows, mixed together at some corporate events - really it was inevitable that their circles would overlap eventually and they get to talking over over-priced champagne while people-watching; ever observant even on their time off.
They'd flirt, make eyes, but both are equally wary of each other - both know how loyal the other is to their respective companies, and that the other is prying in indirect ways, looking for a drip of information, an admission of doing things they shouldn't (ie Victoria breaching the Blackwall once a decade or so-). It could get physical now and then - a supposed one-night stand that reoccurs more than it should; when a party is too boring and nothing interesting to be learned, they retreat into each other's company - but it is purely physical. Trust is the one thing corpos can't really afford, especially when another corporation is involved.
so, as a sexual partner? 100% but a genuine love interest? not a chance.
Alt Cunningham
they absolutely wouldn't work out- like even less than Victoria/Hanako - but I think they'd have…something. i reckon they might have known each other back when Alt was still a human, before Johnny fucked her over forever and condemned her to a digital purgatory - there was something of a respect there, but begrudging on both ends if even acknowledged - at least where their respective netrunning skills were concerned. As people? Not even a fractal of it.
Victoria knows what happened to Alt, met her beyond the Blackwall shortly after it happened and she can't decide if she's terrified of sharing such a fate or not; digital godhood is appealing in concept but she doubts its so easy in practicality; Alt confirms that. They manage to converse in those years, reach an understanding that was impossible in their humanity. It's odd how civil they manage to be - when Alt despises Arasaka and Victoria is viciously protective of it; but odder things have happened.
(idk if i'll ever write it but i'd love for them to have a discussion on humanity, and their respective lack of it after Victoria becomes a 'borg)
#ask game#Victoria Crane#Hanako Arasaka#Arthur Jenkins#Bryce Mosley#alt cunningham#you chose so many fun ones i stg-#i think vic/bryce is gonna be pricking at me for the foreseeable future#the tension would be palpable
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where was the alpha during the whole shibuya arc? Where they also unaliving people like the hot bad bitch they are or were they mainly trying to deal with the elders and providing support from behind the scenes?
And did gojo ever feel his mate removing their mating mark? Also, i have this thought that ive played around in my head for a while, it'd be interesting if the next time gojo meets his mate when he's outside the box, his mate somewhat changed and became more solemn and then gojo gets this deja vu feeling back to when geto acted the same way after gojo was absent a lot because he became more bombarded with missions and now it's happening again to one of the most important people in his life and he slowly gets this foreboding feeling of dread
I'm swinging around this oc like my poor cat hehe. Very pleased that you think they're a hot bad bitch. They're also a total awkward simp, like run into doorways if they see Satoru naked after a shower, so we love someone one can be both lol.
During the Shibuya arc, alpha wasn't ever inside the curtains. I think there's some brief discussion about it, but Satoru tells them not to come with him because this is clearly going to be people batting at his level. The higher-ups also demand that Satoru go alone and he doesn't tend to outright cross them concerning things like this.
Alpha end up keeping an eye on Inumaki and a third year oc (who will be Inumaki's partner). They end up trying to rescue the other auxiliary sorcerers while the curtain is up, and then helping get people out once the curtains go down - so they'd help Nitta extract Nobara and Akari (this means they do see Nanami's body rip) and essentially guard the retreat, up until they're called back to the school. There's probably a fair bit of unaliving things as part of that lol, but this time they're not going hunting for trouble.
(more below the cut because this is a lot to address!)
Gojo would not have felt the mark removal happen while in the box, because the way I'm interpreting the prison realm, is that nothing physical can happen to him in there that he doesn't do to himself. He feels it when he's released though.
I had some options I was toying with for the eventual unboxing before it actually happened:
Because Satoru feels it the moment the box releases him, I think he actually had time to reject the rejection as it were, and decide to maintain the bond. I would love for that to happen because the imagery of blue flame slowly burning away alpha's name back at the family home and then suddenly dissipating leaving their name intact is very pretty to me.
The other thought I had was that if the box was in a place that made releasing Gojo potentially hazardous, alpha would sense his sudden return to the world and feel the bond reform on their neck and hold back Satoru's powers just long enough for him to regain control, almost like stopping an explosion.
The other option is what's been seeming like the more likely option for a while now, which is that Gojo lets the bond break because alpha still wouldn't be safe as Gojo's mate. The last edict from the higher-ups is still technically enforceable, although they don't have the manpower to try rn. It also suits the long standing imagery of Gojo being a bodhisattva.
In the last few chapters, we've seen his major connections to the earth slowly be chipped away - one ward is taken over, the other is dead, his friends and allies have been decimated, his students are slowly becoming strong enough not to need him, and in this au his mate was forced to sever the connection for their own safety, oh and he killed his best friend a year ago and has to fight that body again. That's a lot of loss to pile on the shoulders of even the strongest. And the bodhisattva ascension is only delayed, so there's still a chance he could never have the chance to make new connections because he's well "ascended".
In my happy ending, I want Gojo and alpha to openly get [re]mated after everything is over. I love love "I chose you again and again" type of relationships and choosing to stay with someone is so hard for Gojo because of the implications of loss or attachment in particular that choosing again feels very powerful. He's an incredibly lonely person but it's so difficult to reach out to him because no one, not even Getou, was forced to live the full weight of his experience then and now.
You're not the first person to bring up that from an outsider's perspective, what's happening with alpha is very similar to Getou's pulling back and being forced to acknowledge that no matter what they want, they can't stand side by side with Gojo and have to do things their own way. I've been trying and failing to write their post-unboxing meeting for literal months because it's so difficult to capture.
Mostly because Gojo is someone who accepts the realities of a situation fairly quickly. It is incredibly painful to realize that yet another person who tried to walk alongside him has changed while he wasn't there. But, he could acknowledge that very quickly and set the pain aside as fast as he could because pain comes from expectations being different from reality, and he has a lot of important things to attend to.
Alpha is one of the most important people in his personal life, which makes all of this easier said than done. There's a lot of lingering looks and quiet moments of emotionally charged "strategy meetings" over the time between his unsealing and the set date of his fights.
Probably the only difference between Getou and Alpha at this point is that alpha has never functioned with the straight cold logic Suguru sometimes did. They have things they certainly consider unforgivable, but they fully joined Gojo's faction so their method is never going to be "literally break the whole world" - they'll just break their own, their rules, their walls, their own source of security/safety, for the people they care about. Objectively, this may be worse than Suguru because alpha will do things they know or think are "wrong" if it can guarantee safety for the people they love.
So it fills Gojo with a whole new type of dread! isn't that fun! Instead of "I might [will probably] have to kill this person in the name of my code and responsibilities even if it's literally going to break a piece of me forever" it's "this person I love might end up burning themself out in the name of their goals because they consider other people and their future wellbeing far more important than themself at this moment, and I can't stop them because that strength of resolve is either going to save them or do the opposite". Either way, Gojo knows they're no longer walking the same path, and in some way, it hurts.
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