#but somehow saying it directly to one person is worse

[chartreuxcatz]

Man, all the respect in the world to people who commission nsfw stuff. I don't know how they do it.

[lisired]

change your mind yet?

pairing: haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, enemies to lovers-esque, choking, spit kink, haechan’s lowkey a cocky piece of shit, he calls you a bitch Lol

summary: You’re going to kill him. You swear, You’re going to kill him. how did Liu Yangyang accidentally tell Lee Donghyuck—your greatest enemy—that you think he’s hot and that you’ve been in a dry spell recently? Now you have to avoid the inevitable confrontation, and worst of all, deal with the most stubborn person alive (who ironically thinks that you’re the most stubborn person alive).

word count: 4.6k

a/n: very much an oldie… not so sure about a goodie but i do love the ending. i had written this for a friend lol

You love him to bits, but Liu Yangyang is not your favorite friend right now.

Fairly, you one-hundred percent blame him for the predicament you’re currently in. You know he can be a blabbermouth at times and wouldn’t do it on purpose, but there’s no way you’d let him get away with quote-unquote accidentally telling your mortal enemy that you think he’s hot, and that you’ve been having trouble getting off.

It was yesterday evening that you were on FaceTime with your best friend, simply conversating as per usual. You were ranting comfortably to Yangyang about your troubles and how sexually frustrated you are, and he suggested you getting laid. That’s how the topic of Lee Donghyuck came. He was suggesting people, and when he asked you if you thought Donghyuck was hot, you replied yeah, but I wouldn’t touch his dick with laboratory safety gloves.

Fast-forward some hours later, he’s consentfully telling your mutual friend Renjun about your conversation, in hopes of playing matchmaker and finding someone for you to fuck. The problem? Donghyuck was around, and somehow overheard everything except the part about you saying that you’d never touch his egotistical dick.

So now you’re on campus, avoiding your egotistic mortal enemy like the plague.

Why do you dislike Donghyuck? The answer’s simple, he’s one of those guys. The ones that think they own the world, and that it revolves around them. The ones that think they can have any and every person they want, and treat people’s hearts like dirt. In short, you don’t think he’s a good person, no matter how hot he is.

When your final class rolls around, you think you might’ve successfully dodged him. You had another class with him today, but for some reason he was a no-show. Not that you care, his lack of presence was relieving. Then, you see him stroll into your Language Arts class, and the bright red cherry on top? He’s quick to snatch the seat directly next to yours. Oh, brother.

“Hey,” Donghyuck whispers. “Let’s talk.”

Your heart is racing, but you think you manage to conceal it. “In the middle of class?”

He shrugs, “Afterwards.”

You’re running out of here the second your professor dismisses you.

So, Donghyuck cornered you.

There’s no going anywhere as long as he has you like this, backed up against a wall, his hands on either side of you, and his gaze practically rooting you in place. You feel like you’re being stared down by Medusa, still as stone as you look into his eyes.

“So, let’s talk,” he grins, tilting his head. “A little birdie tells me you think I’m hot, you’re under a dry spell, and that you’ve been having trouble making yourself cum lately.”

“Did you hear the part where I said I wouldn’t touch your egotistical dick with laboratory safety gloves?”

“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t need my dick to have your thighs shaking, huh,” you’re blushing, actually blushing, cheeks aflame and your skin all hot. To make matters worse, Donghyuck’s hands move from beside you to sitting pretty on your waist, not moving lower or higher, cool texture of his rings pressing gently into your skin. The contact has you in an internal frenzy, but you chalk it up to you simply being touch-starved. “Don’t you see these lips, baby?”

Alas, you do see them. With his face as close as it is to yours, you can’t help but see them. They’re pretty and plush, kissable, and kind of do look like they could eat—no, no, no, no. You’ve been with your share of guys like Donghyuck, ones that like to talk about how good they are, yet are severely disappointing in reality. For you to even be considering sleeping with him just goes to show that you’ve struck rock bottom.

“D-don’t call me that,” you curse yourself for stammering, because he only finds it amusing.

“Why not? I think you like it, baby,” Donghyuck teases, “is that the problem? You like me, but you don’t want to like me? You don’t like that you know I could make you feel good?”

You loosen your gaze, unable to bare eye contact with him any longer, “Fuck you, Donghyuck.”

“Fuck me your fucking self,” he grabs your chin, making you look at him. If you can see anything in his eyes, it’s the unmistakable gleam of lust, so dark yet so tempting. “You want it, don’t you?”

God dammit, you do want it. But you refuse to have your name crossed out on his checklist, to be another notch in his belt. You know it would only boost his ego to have seduced the most stubborn person alive into fucking him, and you absolutely refuse to let that happen.

“No.”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrow, “No?”

“No,” you repeat.

You don’t know how you expected him to react, but he takes it coolly, dropping his hands and stepping away. Aw no, did you hurt his ego? The thought almost makes you laugh.

“Okay, but you know where to find me when you change your mind,” He smirks, and you hate how confident he sounds. Not if, but when. When you change your mind.

He strolls away, and you let him. You have bigger fish to fry, and you refuse to let some grade A fuckboy get in your head.

Unfortunately, you are not as in control of your thoughts as you’d like. This is bad, really fucking bad, you think. Last night, you actually successfully managed to cum on your own. That should be a good thing, but the reason you came is absolutely humiliating. An embarrassing, taking-it-with-me-to-the-grave secret.

You may or not may not have came to the thought of Donghyuck. How his fluffy hair would look clamped to his forehead, or how his forehead would look dripping with sweat. Imagining his fingers replacing your own, fingering you with his rings on, the coolness of them against your skin. But what really did it was probably the image of him between your thighs that was planted in your brain the second he offered himself to you. You thought of what good his lips could do, and how they’d look dripping all wet.

This is fucking terrible. You haven’t came in god knows how long, and the one time you do after forever, it’s because of the man you’ve sworn to hate until the day you die. Usually this is something you’d rant to your best friend about, but after what happened the last time you told him about your sexual frustrations, you decide you’re going to keep this one to yourself. If Donghyuck ever heard you came to the thought of him eating you out, he’d literally never in a million years ever let you live it down.

Today’s a new day, but you haven’t been able to shake off the shame, particularly because tonight’s Renjun’s party, and being one of his best friend’s, Donghyuck will undoubtedly be there. He’s posted it on his story and everything, not that you were checking. You overheard Yangyang talking about it. But either way, you don’t know if you’ll be able look him in the eye again.

“It’s a good thing you’re going out again,” Yangyang assures, walking next to you as you two stroll into the party, “maybe you’ll meet someone else to help you get out of your dry spell.”

He’s right. This is your chance to get laid, get over whatever that was with Donghyuck, and move on. You’re like, ninety-nine point nine percent convinced you’re only attracted to him out of sheer desperation. The measly zero point one percent comes from you being aware that you’ve thought he was attractive long before yesterday happened, but whatever. Forget it.

So you nod in agreement. Soon enough, you’ve settled with the party atmosphere. You’ve had a drink but you’re not drunk, and you’ve tried socializing but everyone seems so not your style, which is insane, because Donghyuck isn’t your style either. You don’t think. No, he’s not.

This is worse than you initially suspected. You can’t find anyone, and Donghyuck’s still running through your mind, being a complete and utter distraction and he’s not even here—

Speaking of the devil himself, “Hey.”

You spoke too soon.

“Ohmygod, if you’re here to try and seduce me again, I’m not interested,” you groan, hoping he gets the message and leaves you the fuck alone. At the same time you really don’t, but you definitely think you should.

Donghyuck raises his hands, “But I’m egotistical. I just came here to invite you to a game of truth of dare with the gang, lighten up a lil, won’t ya?”

You sigh. “Where?”

He leads you to the room where everyone is, and you make sure to scoot next to Ningning and Jennie, refusing to sit anywhere besides Donghyuck. All you hope now is that the bottle doesn’t land on you after him.

A couple of rounds fly by, and you’re still safe. You’re having fun, and the thought of him escapes your mind with ease. Even when the bottle does land on you, he doesn’t dare you to do anything crazy that you thought he would.

After Yangyang’s turn, the bottle lands on you. You’re not worried, because Yangyang’s your best friend, he wouldn’t dare you to do anything stupid.

Then he does exactly that.

“Seven minutes in heaven with Donghyuck!”

You’re going to kill him. You’re mentally plotting his murder right now. How you’re going to do it, when, and where you’ll hide his body. If he suspiciously winds up missing, you’re more than likely the reason why.

“Pucker up, buttercup,” Yangyang blows you a kiss.

You spit back, “Shut up, bubble guts.”

You hear him gasp in offense, but whatever he says is cut off by Donghyuck.

“Come on, babes. I can hear your lips calling my name,” he teases, and you groan, clutching your fist. You guess there’s no way out of this. Well, technically there is, but Renjun let Yangyang choose the punishment and he decided to make anyone who refused to do a dare eat a spoonful of sour cream. Mind you, sour cream by itself is disgusting, and this is probably why he and his stomach are frequently at war, so your safest option is getting in that room with Donghyuck for seven minutes. You don’t even have to kiss, you can just let everyone think you did.

So you follow him into the bathroom connected to Renjun’s room, and the second the door shuts, he has you backed into yet another wall. He grins, “Change your mind yet?”

You stand your ground. “No.”

“That’s fine, we can make out in the meantime and then see how you feel after seven minutes.” he replies nonchalantly.

Even though you’ve been thinking about it, you grimace. “Gross.”

“What? It’s not my dick, why do you act like you hate me anyways? Not that I’m really complaining, I like when things are hard.”

“Bet you do,” you grumble. “And if I’m acting, then I must be Viola Davis.”

“Eh, I’d give you Keanu Reeves.”

You glare. “On second thought, I’m almost willing to kiss you if it means you’ll keep quiet.”

“Well you’re in luck,” Donghyuck grins, “because that and giving head are the only ways to silence me.”

You cave in soon later, letting him pin you to the wall, your hands above your head as he kisses you hungrily. It kills you to learn that he’s a great kisser, because that means he’s actually good at something other than running his mouth and being the bane of your existence twenty-four seven. Though you don’t know how that’s possible, he’s gentle yet rough. Caring in his movement, though passionate in them too. The way he’s kissing you, you’d think he loved you.

In spite of your obvious attempts to try and touch him, to maybe run your fingers through his hair or hold his cheeks in your hands, Donghyuck doesn’t let you move. You can feel the teasing grin bloom from his lips, and conclude that it’s intentional.

Never in a million years did you think you’d be french kissing Lee Donghyuck of all people, yet here you are. You can’t say you don’t like it, though. That would be lying. While you’d never admit anything like it, the roughness in the way he kisses you has you throbbing.

Donghyuck’s lips are like a drug. You stop for a moment to inhale, and then you’re lips are latched back onto each other. Exhale again, then you take another drag, and the cycle repeats. You could do this for fucking ever.

Then, the timer chimes.

“Time’s up!” Chenle yells from outside the bathroom, and Donghyuck pulls always almost instantly, surprisingly readier than you are.

He looks hot as he pants, chest rising and falling then rising again. He smirks, “Change your mind?”

God fucking damn it. Time went by a little too fast for your liking. Your lips are swollen, but you want more of him, to feel him, to touch him, especially because he didn’t let you. You’re finally admitting to yourself that you want him, and you can’t ignore your cravings anymore.

“Donghyuck,” you whimper, not caring in this moment who hears you, “w-want you.”

He smirks. “I know, baby. You wanna prove to me how much?”

You nod. It’s pathetic, truly, but you need this at this point. So you let Donghyuck lead you out of the bathroom, and essentially the bedroom, ignoring the curious sounds coming from your friends. He leads you down the hall into a different, emptier room, closing and locking the door behind the two of you.

“On the bed,” he instructs.

You comply, the desperation that accompanies having not slept with someone in months and orgasming in weeks making you leap into action in an instant. Then there’s this raw part of you that has lusted after him before you fully came to terms with your desire, making you feel the way blood courses through your veins.

Donghyuck walks up and kisses you again, this time allowing both of your pairs of hands to roam freely as you strip one another almost bare. In an eager motion, you peel away his shirt and jeans, and he matches your yearn, leaving you naked. He pulls away from your lips to eye your body in awe.

“You’re a bitch,” he says, “but a beautiful one.”

“Really turned me on,” you deadpan.

He laughs yet pushes your back flat against the mattress, wasting no time in hovering above your body. The proximity has your heart racing a little quicker, a little faster than it was out of something like anticipation. Donghyuck dips his head but doesn’t kiss you like you anticipate him to, at least not on the lips. His lips scout your neck, soft and sweet against your flesh. He sucks at your skin, and your mouth gapes a little, sounding the most sweet gasp before he digs his teeth in suit. It makes you whimper aloud his name, which he clearly enjoys from the way he smiles.

Donghyuck repeats a course of similar actions as he mouth scoots lower, kissing and sucking and biting at your collarbone. Then he proceeds after some time, traveling lower and taking your breast into his mouth or his tongue swirling over your nipples. He trails kisses at your sternum, your stomach, all the while your breath getting caught up in your throat the more his mouth falls down your body. He’s so obviously teasing you, you know that much. He has a destination yet no rush to get there, taking his sweet, precious time as though he’s rich of it. And maybe he is, but your patience is running thin, and there’s only so much more of this you can take. “Hyuck,” you cry out of sheer desperation, “hurry up.”

“For someone who claimed not to want me up until ten minutes again, you really are desperate for me,” Donghyuck replies, drawing his mouth away, and hence all contact there was.

Refusing to simply take that, you retaliate, “For someone who claimed they could make me feel good, you’re doing a whole lot of nothing right now.”

“Keep running that sharp mouth and I’ll have to put it to better use,” Donghyuck answers. It isn’t like you’re against giving head, and it wouldn’t sound so bad if you weren’t so painfully deprived of the same satisfaction Donghyuck’s offered to give you. Sure, the speed—or lack of the—heightens the anticipation, but you need him to quit teasing or you’ll actually go insane.

“You keep acting like you hate me,” Donghyuck moves between your legs, and you aren’t prepared for what he does next. Something about the way he slowly smooths his single finger through your folds and draws it into his mouth for a taste is hot to you, thus making you wish he’d finally get on with it. “But your cunt is telling me that you love me. Love this.”

Well it isn’t like he’s wrong. You haven’t been this wet in ages, the dry spell you’ve been under being extreme and severe. Touching yourself has gone absolutely no where up until last night, when you somehow managed to cum harder than you have in a minute. You’re starting to think that having Donghyuck as your muse changes things.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. You’d love this more if he stopped making you wait, but you don’t say that aloud, starting to suspect that the more you complain the longer he silently decides he’s going to test your patience. After what feels like an eternity of touching you everywhere but where you desperately need him to most, Donghyuck’s tongue draws a line between your thighs. Then another, and another. It progresses into more with no particular rush, despite the inevitable whines you can’t prevent from falling out. “Hyuck,” you cry again, wishing he’d stop playing games.

Donghyuck teases, “What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” you beg, “Please, please. I-I want, fuck no, I need this. Please, fuck—”

Your pleas are cut short the moment Donghyuck gives in, lapping at you with an unquenchable thirst and insatiable hunger. It’s so sudden that it gives you whiplash, and he has to grip your thighs to keep them spread a safe distance apart. He’s unstopping once he begins, tongue maneuvering as it pleases, roaming around freely though expertly. Had you known Donghyuck was as much bite as he was bark, you may have gave in to this much sooner than you did. Not only is he making you feel good, but he’s making you feel great. If you could taste heaven, it would be this.

Some moments pass, and the humiliating part is that it isn’t a lot of moments. Your thighs are trembling more with every lick, resulting in Donghyuck’s grip around your thighs to tighten out of consideration that you might successfully slip out of his grasp. You stomach turns, flips, and you’re vision is being clouded white, so close to an orgasm that it hurts. Donghyuck senses it, you know that he can, you can feel the arrogant smirk spreading across his lips once more. Just as you’re getting so close, as your orgasm is right there in arms reach, being dangled in front of you by a string, he snatches it away.

There’s yet another whine from you, but he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask, “Want you to cum when I fuck you, baby.”

Donghyuck removed his boxers, leaving them on the ground to be cared about later. His erection springs flat against his stomach in a way that makes you so suddenly inhale a breath, and you clench around absolutely nothing at all. You’re gawking at him as though you want to eat hm, and in a sense you do, but you can’t be blamed. It looks better than you could’ve ever imagined, decent length, decent girth. The real brag-worthy factor, however, is if he knows what to do with what god has blessed him with.

His dick nudges your slit. “Ready?”

Without wasting an eighth of second you give him the go-ahead, nodding your head at instance so fast it almost hurts your neck. He reacts equally as fast, prodding his dick between your folds and eventually your walls. It stretches you out perfectly, and the moment he’s in you Donghyuck’s moaning about how tight and wet you are. He takes a moment for himself before he starts to move, gliding in and out of you in an effortless motion.

So far, Donghyuck has lived up perfectly to your imagination and expectations, much better, even. You never would’ve thought he’d actually have the right to brag about how good he is in bed, but you see it now. He’s a god even, not that you’d ever tell him that to his face.

“So pretty, wish I could have gotten to you sooner. Always telling me that you hate me yet letting me fuck you like this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve always wanted this,” Donghyuck says into your ear, and pecks your neck. “Are you always this needy? So desperate that you’ll let even me fuck you?”

“G-god, yes,” you don’t care about overpriding him anymore, just saying things because you aren’t in the right mind to care about anything other than his dick right now.

“Yeah?” He smirks. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”

You’re almost too fucked out to speak, just moaning and whimpering in a way you never thought you would for him, “Feels good, so… so good. Love it.”

If you were in the right mind to have shame, you’d be embarrassed by the way your number-one enemy is making you moan, and not just because of the volume, but because it’s his name your moaning so pathetically. Choruses of “Hyuck” sounding from you in plethoras, calling his name with no actual reason. You’re breathing in little shallow, quick breaths, too, mouth agape as your whimpers tumble into the air. It helps that Donghyuck’s also surprisingly vocal, calling your name back. To say the least, the way he moans your name is hot and gets you off a little more, in spite of you not needing the help. He has it all on his own, fucking into you deep and hard.

Donghyuck gropes your body too, heightening your pleasure by fumbling with your breasts or rubbing your clit with one of his free hands. He doesn’t focus on one particular part of you, showering your figure with pleasure and attention that makes the sex a billion times better.

“Can I choke you?” He asks, and the question catches you a little off-guard, but once you shake off the surprise, you give him permission.

Donghyuck’s hands slither around your neck, and he presses into your jaw with just enough force to make you look at him, and silently communicate that he wants you to keep your eyes him and his actions. His fingers press onto the sides of your throat, and you’re not sure what is a bigger turn on, the fact that he knows how to properly do it or the action itself. You think it’s a bit of both, you enjoy the thrill as you look defeated by your inability breathing, and the dark look in his eyes tells you that he enjoys it too, staring straight into your soul, watching you fail to take a breath.

He doesn’t loosen his grip on your throat as he commands, “Open your mouth.”

You aren’t in the mind to question anything, simply following instructions. His mouth hovers above yours, lips parting to spit in your mouth. The action takes you by surprise yet again, but you swallow almost instinctively, never looking away from him as you do.

He backs away once satisfied, smiling. “So good for me, baby.”

That makes you clench around him, which also brings Donghyuck the satisfaction of a moan or two. He loves the way you clench around him when he says things to you, a telltale sign that you’re enjoying this more than he knows you’d probably like to admit. This whole thing between you and him, him and you is that you’re too stubborn to admit your desire. It prides him that he finally managed to make you confess it, to admit that you’re no different from anybody else. That he can still get under your skin, and does a fairly good job at that. Not only does it make him feel good about himself, but it makes him feel good right now. Your reactions, all your moans and your fucked out face, the whimpering and the begging, it all gets him off more.

That knot in your stomach is forming again, and he has you clenching around him regularly soon afterwards, and he can tell that this time, it’s not because of his words. It’s because you’re about to orgasm. “I’m close,” you announce, once again feeling all the flips and turns twisting about in your gut. It’s a good thing Donghyuck’s close too, being obvious from the way his thrusts aren’t as smooth as they initially were.

“Me, too. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he urges you on, and you let him drive you to the edge.

He makes you see white again, vision fogging the color and your voice a high-pitched moan of his name as you climax, grinding your hips into his as you intend to ride out your orgasm. In some high, trance-like state, you’re not sure when he cums, but you know that it wasn’t that much longer after you did, and then he slid out, flopping beside you on the mattress. You lie there in near-silence that consists of nothing but heavy breathing, wondering to yourself if this actually happened. You don’t regret it, not now anyways, and it was definitely a satisfying way to break your dry spell, but now you’re starting to question if it was a bad decision. He hasn’t even asked if—

“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asks, seemingly needing a moment to catch his breath before he could gather words.

His words cut through your thoughts, leaving you to accept that maybe he’s not that much of an asshole. It’s the bare minimum, so he’s still an asshole, but not that much of an asshole. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m good.”

“Good,” he grins. “So, you wanna ditch this party and go get some Chinese food? I’m starving.”

“You want to go get food with me?” you say, sounding wholly and utterly surprised and unconvinced. This man spends every other day of his life bothering you, and now he wants to pick up some food with you?

“I mean, if you don’t want free Chinese food that I’m paying for with my money, then fine, suit yourself, I’ll just get it by my—”

“No!” You interject, sitting up immediately as you scan the room for your clothes. “I’m down. Kinda hungry, too.”

“Good,” Donghyuck says. “Chop, chop. We don’t have all night, they close in like less than an hour from now.”

Standing out of bed to put your clothes on, you consider to yourself that maybe you’ve assumed a lot about him without getting to know him. He’s definitely got an ego on him, that a blind man can tell, but he’s not really an asshole.

“Yo, I just realized something.”

“What?”

Donghyuck smiles bashfully, “I don’t have my wallet on me.”

Nevermind. He’s one-hundred percent definitely an asshole.

[luveline]

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

When Eddie asks you on a date, you don’t believe it. He probably meant as friends, right? Spoiler alert — Eddie wants to be more than friends, and he’s willing to prove it. [4k]

fluff, slight hurt/comfort, fem!reader, plus-sized!reader, reader feels undesirable, kissing, obligatory ‘don’t be cruel’ scene, eddie calls you pretty like ten times, requested here

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie has one of those smiles that screams trouble. Every time he looks at you with that smile he might as well have "I'm gonna break your heart," written across his forehead in tandem. 

You sneak a glance at him across the atrium. Eddie’s paused bussing tables to talk to a patron, his customer service voice in play with a matching smile. It isn't the one you mean, but it's bad enough to make you flush red-hot. You cross your arms over the bar, regret it for its stickiness, and let your head rest against the crook of your elbow. 

You've been working together for a long time now, almost six months, and he's your favourite coworker hands down. He cleans up after himself, he brings snacks that you never accept (lest you look like the greedy chubby girl you worry everyone expects you to be), and he talks to you like a real person.

It's horrifying and it's not fair, but being fat means that sometimes guys don’t want to look at you. They don't want to be in the same room with you, and you can tell; they avert their eyes, or simply don't talk to you directly.

You've never had that feeling with Eddie. He meets your eyes, unflinching, and he sends you one of those pretty smiles and you think Fuck, because he should've been a movie star, he has the cheekbones for it, or a rockstar like that band he's always raving about. He'd have a slim LA girl on both arms, no doubt about it. 

He likely wouldn't waste his time with you. 

Not someone pretty as he is. Sometimes he'll lean over and expose the flat stretch of his stomach, his v-lines and the dark trail of hair peeking above his jeans, and you feel acutely miserable 'cause you know you'll never get to touch him. Workplace crushes suck. 

"Hey, are you okay?" a voice asks, a hand dropping against your shoulder. 

You pull yourself up quickly. Speak of the devil, Eddie stands beside you with his hair tied away from his face. He looks more entertained than concerned, his smile unfortunately genuine. 

"I'm fine," you say, stepping back. His hand falls away from your shoulder. "Sorry, just tired." 

Eddie leans into your space, squinting. You freeze up, but he's only checking the time on the clock behind you. "Gotta tough it out. Still an hour and a half 'til closing." 

Which means there's more than two hours of your shift left. Your face must show how unexciting that is —Eddie laughs, warm and quiet, and gives your hand a squeeze. 

"You'll live," he promises. "Are you busy tonight? Maybe we could go get pizza or something." 

"What, nobody else is available?" you ask. 

His head juts back a touch, put upon shock. "And why can't I ask you? I like you and I like pizza, that's a good combination. And even if you don't like me that much, you like pizza, right?" 

You know —you know, you do— that Eddie doesn't mean it as a slight. This isn't some thinly veiled insult on how you look. Why wouldn't you like pizza? Most people do, but his comment twists itself into an evil inky ball in your chest anyways, thick and hot as tar. 

You shake it off. 

"Who says I don't like you?" you ask, steering the conversation away from food altogether. 

His smile gets somehow better, which is to say worse. You're being punished for something, a childhood wrongdoing or a future crime, perhaps. Nothing else could warrant the mental torture that is being so close to him while he looks the way he does. 

"Good. Good, then we should get pizza. It's a date," he says, nodding. 

Morgan the shift manager calls for him to stop distracting you, though the Hideout is abandoned tonight, and there's nothing to distract you from. Eddie stands at full height, with a soldier's salute. "Yes, sir. No more lollygagging." He turns to you when you laugh, and you share a secret smile. 

He and Morgan disappear into the back of house. If you strain your ears, you can hear Eddie complaining about having to keep his hair in a bun, as it's totally against what he stands for, dude, it's stifling his self expression. 

"Count yourself lucky I don't make you wear a hair net, kid," Morgan says.

You turn back to your sticky bar, numb. It's a date? Did he mean, like, an actual date? A romantic date? 

Not a chance in hell. It's a colloquialism. Nothing more. 

Despite yourself, you stare into the silver reflection of a beer tap and try to liven up. You fix your hair, check your teeth, dig a lip balm out of your apron pocket and scratch the corners of your mouth just in case. The entire time you're heckling yourself about delusions. Eddie Munson doesn't like you. He's had a girl come around once or twice, and she'd been everything you're not: slender, confident. You'd wanted to dislike her, but she hadn't done anything wrong. There's no crime in being desirable. 

For the remainder of the night, you man the bar and serve the occasional patron. It's a Sunday night, so most stick to light beer or soft drinks. The live entertainment says goodnight and the Hideout empties like an opened floodgate. You clean the bar, Eddie buses the tables, and the kitchen staff turn on the radio and get to work cleaning. Soon, you can smell cigarette smoke and reheated mozzarella sticks. 

You wander into the kitchen to help. 

"Hi beautiful," Leon says, one of the cooks, "you want something to eat?" 

"No she does not!" Eddie says, helping the dishwasher Marcie with her last round of plates. Suds drip down to his rolled sleeves as he waves his hands around. "We're going to get pizza." 

"Yes!" Marcie says, delighted. 

"Where are we going?" Paul asks, another cook. 

"We," Eddie says, pointing at you and then himself, "are going to Marletto's. Yeah?" 

You startle when you realise he's asking you. "Oh, sure. Anywhere you want." 

His head bobs up and down, pleased. He goes back to his dishes. "Anywhere I want," he murmurs to Marcie, though he's saying it for everybody to hear, "hear that, Marc? I'm spoiled." 

You wipe down a few counters, label some leftover iceberg lettuce and put it back in the fridge. It's easy work, made better by the camaraderie of your coworkers, but you can't settle down. Your heart races at what's to come. "It's a date," is starting to feel less colloquial now Eddie's dissuading the other from joining you. That's how that works, right? He wants to be alone with you.

It might not mean anything. Maybe Eddie needs something from you he doesn't want the others to know about, like money. Maybe he wants girl advice, finally chasing that pretty girl who drops by sometimes. Or boy advice —there's a guy who comes around too, tall and blond and handsome. 

There's a logical solution. Any other girl would hear the word date and take it at face value, but you aren't them. You're you. You can't remember the last time somebody looked at you with desire in their eyes, if they ever have. High school was a shit show and work isn't exactly a hub for romance. Eddie joining the team here is the most excitement you've ever had in your life, for all his gentle squeezes and teasing elbows, his inside jokes and his tendency to burst into an air guitar solo at any given moment. He's a cheeseball, and you like him. It sucks. 

"Hi, are you ready?" he asks, coming out of nowhere. You're kneeling down near the lockers tying your shoelaces. 

It is a horrible position for him to see you in. You can't imagine what you look like, but you know it won't be pretty. You spring up with your shoelace untied still and smile weakly. "Yeah, I'm ready." 

"You need help with that?" he asks, eyes on your shoe. 

You burn with embarrassment. "I– no, I–" 

Eddie kneels down on the floor and reaches for your shoe. He ties it quickly in a double-knotted bunny-loop and pats the side of your ankle when he's done. When he looks up at you, you're in the middle of hoping a natural disaster will occur and put you out of your misery. 

He smiles at you from his position. Does he ever stop? 

"Cool," he says, standing up. He grabs his coat from his locker and doesn't bother closing it. "Let's go! I'm starving, man, Leon needs to mess up more often so I can steal the rejects." 

You follow him in a daze. Through the lockers and out of the kitchen, waving goodbye to the lingering closers and a grimacing Morgan. You aren't looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow. You're more than sure he'll have something to say about workplace fraternising and general dawdling. 

"You okay for us to take the van?" he asks. 

Eddie's given you rides home before, and what felt awkward before has lended itself to a familiarity. You nod your agreement and cross the small parking lot out back, your breath rising in the cold night air. 

Eddie pulls open the passenger door of his van with a strong-armed tug. 

"Been meaning to get the latch looked at. I'd rather it have trouble opening than trouble closing, though, so that's a plus." 

He waits for you to climb the short step and sit before he closes the door. 

“All limbs inside the ride?" he asks. 

You laugh. It comes out weird. You kind of sound like you're being held at gunpoint. 

Eddie gets in the van and makes small talk as he starts the engine and pulls her out of the lot. Your mind isn't there, exactly, or rather it's too close. You want to think about your answers but instead you're worrying about how you look while you say them. You're worried about the seat belt around your stomach, and the way you look from the side. Being around Eddie makes you more self-conscious than usual. 

Marletto's isn't the best pizza place in Hawkins but it's open until three AM. You and Eddie take the first empty booth you come across, and the agony of ordering in front of someone else begins. 

"Meat feast for me, obviously," he says, pulling off his jacket. 

The cracked vinyl seat beneath him crunches with his movement. You dedicate yourself to staying still. 

"I'll get a margarita," you say, glancing between him and the menu for his reaction.  

"Didn't take you for such a bore," he teases. "Drinks? Sides?" 

"Just water will be fine." 

"Are you sure? I'm paying. If you wanna take advantage of me, now's the time."

You shake your head, pushing your cold hands under your thighs. 

Eddie frowns. "If you're sure…" 

He gets up to track down the register. You sit there, wondering why you agreed to this, what possessed you, why you could ever think this was a good idea. You don't wanna eat in front of him, you don't know what to say, he's looking at you like everything's normal but this is so not normal, this is the opposite side of the spectrum. 

Eddie returns with your water and a coke, all smiles despite your clear nerves. 

He puts the drinks down and clambers into the seat with a leg folded underneath himself, his elbows halfway across the table. He looks you straight in the face. 

"That guy just looked at me like I was crazy. I'm hungry, sue me. Three orders of mozzarella sticks is a normal human thing to get, right?" 

"Three?" you ask. 

His hand reaches toward you. If your hand were there, he'd likely squeeze it roughly as he sometimes does, like a playful scolding. "I'm hungry," he repeats. "I didn't get any lunch on my lunch break. What's the point in that? Just sat down in the locker room thinking about it. It was actually worse than working." 

"You should've had Leon make you a burger. He's always offering." 

"Always offering you, maybe. The rest of us gotta fend for ourselves." 

"That's not true. He asks Marcie, too." 

"Yeah, well, Leon's a sucker for pretty girls." 

You look down at the table. 

"I got enough fries for both of us, I know you didn't want any sides but everyone wants fries. I won't be sharing the mozzarella sticks, so if you want some you better speak now." He raps the table with his knuckles. When you look up, his face softens. "Well, alright. Maybe I'll share them with you. I'm a sucker, too." 

"What's that mean?" 

"What?" 

"You know what," you say. 

Eddie crosses his arms across the table. His hands and arms are pale, the ink of his black tattoos stark. You could draw them without prompting, that's how often you've fallen into his trap. When he crosses his arms like this, his biceps bulge up a little bit, emphasising the pretty curves and ridges of his arms and the hints of greeny-blue veins hiding under his skin. He tilts his head toward his shoulder, his limp curls dragging against the table. 

"It means…" he says, holding your eyes, a gentle smile playing on his lips, "that you're pretty. You're so pretty, I'd do anything you asked me to." 

You flinch. You pull your numb hands from under your thighs and cover your stomach with your forearms, glaring at the table between you thoughtlessly. 

"That's cruel." 

"What?" 

"That's cruel, Eddie. You're being mean," you mutter.

"I–" Eddie stammers. "What? I'm just trying to tell you how I think about you– how I feel. I'm sorry if you don't wanna hear it, I'm not trying to be mean." 

Hurt creeps into the lines of your face, your eyebrows pulled down and the starts pulled up, your lips pursed. Heat bursts in your throat as a molten lump takes shape there. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you have to. 

"I thought you were my friend," you say quietly. 

"I want to be more than that." 

"You're making fun of me." 

"No." 

Eddie reaches across the table again. There's nothing for him to grab so he spreads his fingers and presses his palm flat. He ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are ridiculously big, the black of his pupils blown and leaching into his dark irises until they're almost indistinguishable in the fuzzy lighting of the restaurant. 

"Come on," he says quietly, "when have I ever done that to you? I mess around, but I wouldn't say shit like that unless I meant it." His fingers lift off of the table. "I mean it. I think you're beautiful." His voice takes on a raw quality. 

You bite the tip of your tongue, fully frowning now. "I don't believe you," you say. 

"Why not?" he asks, frowning back. 

"Because I'm– I'm– I'm fat." You hate yourself for saying it out loud. 

People hate that word. Usually, if you admit to it, there's a rushed response. No, you're not. Pretty friends talk you down, loved ones wrap an arm around your shoulder and harp about puppy fat or big bones. 

Eddie doesn't do either. He sits back in his seat and smiles hesitantly. 

"Why's that a bad thing?" he asks. He shakes his head at himself. "I mean– I'm sorry, I should've said you aren't, you aren't–" 

"No, I am," you say. 

"You're so pretty," he says again, in a rush. "I don't care what size you are, I really don't. I just think you're beautiful and I wanted to ask you on a real date but I saw you and I couldn't wait anymore." He wraps his hand around the neck of his coke bottles and pulls it towards his chest. "Shit, I've made a huge fucking mess of it." 

You lean forward. Your body doesn't know what to do, the whiplash of hurt smothered by his enthusiastic, sincere compliments.

Why's that a bad thing? means more than anything else he said to you. 

"You really think I'm pretty?" you ask timidly. 

"Drop dead," he says. Hope flickers behind his eyes. "Morgan pulled me aside on my second week, you know that? Said if I didn't stop staring at you he'd put me in the back for the week." 

"He did put you in the back," you say, confused. 

"Exactly." 

Oh. You raise your head properly. Eddie's watching you, just you, obviously waiting for you to speak. The hope on his face is clear as day now, his lips parted, the tiniest peek of his tongue on display. 

"You promise you aren't messing with me?" you ask finally. 

"I promise." He holds his hand out, palm up. "I swear." 

Your heart a hummingbird, you take your hand from your waist and put it carefully in his. His fingers curl around yours like a prince, the tip of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles slowly, half an inch at a time. You exhale out of your nose as goosebumps race up your arm. 

He looks like he has more to say, but the pizza and all his sides arrive. You spring apart like teenagers, blood rushing in your ears. The server unloads his tray.

"Alright guys," he says, looking down at you both with a knowing smile. "Anything else I can get you while I'm here?" 

Eddie sneaks a look at you that holds way too much meaning. "No, I think we're alright." 

There's a tiny, awkward silence. You busy yourself with unfolding a napkin over your lap, not sure what to say to bridge the gap. 

Eddie takes the plunge. 

He slides a basket of mozzarella sticks at you. "Pretty girl privileges," he says.

You feel insecure eating in front of him, but the sheer ferocity of his compliments discourages any shame. He thinks you're pretty. He held your hand like it was made of glass and he got put in Hideout jail for staring. 

"I think you're handsome, too," you say. 

Eddie almost chokes on a handful of fries. "Shit," he says, swallowing roughly, hand thumping at his chest. "Thank god for that. I mean, of course you do. My devilish good looks are hard to resist." 

He's not wrong. 

—

Getting put on kitchen duty isn't half as bad as Morgan seems to think it is. Eddie kind of likes it, the noise, the chaos, the heat. Plus, he can steal fries hot and fresh out of the basket. He's only burned himself once. 

"What're you in for?" Leon asks him.

"Staring." 

"You're a freak, Munson, you know that?" 

Eddie shrugs. "If your girlfriend looked like mine, you'd stare too." 

"Uh-huh." Leon grabs up a spatula to flip a burger, pink meat down and brown side up. Fat sizzles dangerously. Neither man flinches. "She ain't going nowhere." 

"You don't know that. Some rockstar might blaze through here and snap her up. Who would I be to stop her? She should be a trophy wife, she's a stunner." 

"Christ," Marcie says from across the room. 

"How the fuck can you hear us?" Eddie asks. Over the sound of the overhead spray and the sizzle of the burners, Marcie must have superpowers or something. 

"Uh, 'cause you're fucking yelling," she says. 

Eddie looks to Leon for some defence, but Leon agrees. "You are super loud." 

"You would be too–"

"If I had a girlfriend as pretty as yours," Leon says, audibly grouchy. "I know." 

"Don't be jealous that I got there first." 

"How is this fair? You get in trouble and I'm the one punished." 

Eddie blows a big breath out of the corner of his mouth, one of his shorter curls dancing away from his warm face. Ridiculous. They're all awful, and jealous, and nobody wants him to be happy. "Losers," he mumbles. 

He's kidding, mostly. He knows that everyone is actually very happy for the both of you. How could they not be? Eddie's happier than ever and you've turned to mush. It's his favourite thing in the world. 

He thought you were pretty before. These days, you're gold dust incarnate. You see him and smile like you've been waiting for him, no more nervousness (which, he found out, was down to a raging crush on him) (he walked on air for days), no more shying away from his touch. Eddie puts a hand on your shoulder and you don't tense; you melt. Butter in the sun. 

It's glorious. 

And sure, Eddie ends up in the brig a lot. He 'hovers' apparently. So what? He'll say it again, if any of these guys were in his shoes, they'd fall victim to the same compulsion. 

He waits for an opportunity to arise, four dinner tickets and a dishwasher disaster, and sneaks away as silently as he can manage, creeping out of the kitchen and to the bar. You're busy pouring a beer and don't notice him until the customer's left and he's wrapping an arm around your waist. 

"Eddie," you scold lightly, leaning forward to accommodate his weight against your back, "come on. You might actually lose your job." 

"They can't fire me. I'm the best bus boy ever." 

You turn your face to look at him. Eddie wants to put you on TV, you look that sweet. 

"No, you're awful, you," —Eddie interrupts you, leaning down for a quick chaste kiss— "distract me, and you," —he steals a second— "don't actually bus tables when you should," you finish, disjointed. 

He brings his hand to your soft cheek, stroking a badly behaved baby hair back into place. You go lax like he's some kind of quick fix drug, and your eyes contain a tenderness that makes his chest ache. He covers his heart with his hand. 

"You're awful," you murmur. 

He takes your face into both hands slowly. One cups your cheek, and the other slides behind your ear. He pulls your face forward and down toward his chin, his lips by your ear. You smell amazing. His eyes close on instinct.

"A little. It's not my fault. You're just–" 

"So pretty?" you ask. "Yeah, you've told me." 

"I have, have I? Have to let me tell you again." He kisses the skin before your ear, more a press of his lips than anything. "You're beautiful," he mouths. 

You shiver, but ultimately end up planting your hands against his chest and ushering him away from you. 

"Stop it. I mean it! We're in public, at work, and you're gonna mess me up." 

"I want to mess you up," he says easily. 

"I know you do." 

Eddie sighs, agonised, but heeds your warning. "Alright," he says, squeezing your shoulder in goodbye. You smile and squeeze his elbow in return. It's your new thing, silent conversation in fond touches. 

He's a couple of feet away when the urge to turn back is too much. He jogs back to your side, gets his hand behind your neck, and kisses you with enough pressure that your lips part underneath his in shock. He adores the side of your neck with his thumb one sweeping stroke at a time, his nose digging sliding against yours as he inches in further, and further. The dizzy pleasure of your lips can't be understated. Eddie fights back a kiss-ruining smile with all he's worth. 

"Sorry," he says, pulling back. Your lips shine and you blink, dazed. "Sorry," he says again, leaning in to kiss them dry. 

You laugh quietly, a breath against his cheek, and he's a goner, dropping pecks all over your pretty face until you're giggling and sinking into his arms. 

"I really am sorry." He punctuates with a kiss under your jaw. 

"No," you say breathlessly. Your hand twines loosely in his hair. "You're not." 

No, he isn't. He's never felt less sorry for anything in his life. 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! If you did, please consider reblogging, it helps more than you know!! <3 

[sashayed]

I haven't said as much about electoral politics this year as I have in previous cycles, because I am exhausted like everyone else and have nothing new or helpful to add. That is still true, so caveat lector I guess lmao!!! Happy American Election Day Fellow Sufferers!!

I have been experiencing an internal backlash the last few years to my extremely Sorkinpilled D.C. private school upbringing -- my childhood spent as a kind of convent schoolgirl in the faith of The System Is Good If We All Participate, which of course has a uhhh let's say generously a minimal engagement with the ways in which many of us are by design shut out of participating. I don't think idealism is necessarily childish, but I think MY idealism certainly has childish qualities, an undergirding of 90s feel-goodism, of civic participation as a subtle ego stroke and of voting -- although I would never have consciously put it this way -- as a way to feel superior to people who don't vote.

Lately there has bubbled up in me a sludgy, adolescent fury at this whole stupid country that has made it very very hard to feel like I should do even the bare minimum. For these people? AMERICANS? The ones that not only want Donald Trump to be president but saw what happened the first time and were like, We love this, do it again but worse? Whatever, fuckos. "I hope you people get your dearest wish and it chews you to death slowly," I may have thought.

I have also thought: why is it so controversial to ask elected officials to stop funding a genocide? Why are we treating people who make that ask, who are watching the current administration directly fund death on a mass scale and objecting to that choice, as if they are being babies and just need to get over it? How are they supposed to get over it? Why is anybody over it?

Anyway all this means that I, a known chipper door-knocker and caller of congresspeople, have been pretty low-key this current cycle. I think that is OK. I don't want to make this a big dramatic confessional about how I didn't write enough postcards or whatever. We all get exhausted and this was my turn.

But it has also been an illuminating cycle in that it's made it clear to me how much at my big age I still want politics to make me feel good, and when they don't, I still have the urge to throw a lil tantrum about it! I can get very superior and intellectual about how right-wing operatives manipulate their voters emotionally WITHOUT EVEN NOTICING that I too have been manipulated, in my case into the feeling that nonparticipation is a kind of revolutionary act.* Just absolute "I threw it on the GROUND" logic happening inside my head. "Maybe if I don't vote I will be doing Quiet Quitting, which is uhhhhh anticapitalist." I'm not a part of your system!!!

Anyway, I am trying to have self-compassion about it, and one way for me to do that is to project my internal experience onto a theoretical reader. That would be you, my imaginary friend who clicked on this post for some reason even though you have already decided not to vote! I just want to tell you that I am more sympathetic to your point of view than I have ever been in my whole life, and I'm sorry I have historically been a glib, holier-than-thou asshole about it in ways that may actually have made you MORE resistant to civic participation.

And you're right: it doesn't make that big a difference whether I personally vote or not, or whether you do. But if there are hundreds of us, and I think there are, then each of those people individually do starts to matter.

I guess I would humbly request that you and I both pay attention to what people who need help are actually asking for. I would ask that we both notice who wins when we abdicate this single responsibility. I would remind us both that participating in the electoral process is not some kind of weird either-or with participating in decentralized community building and mutual aid, and the best people we know do both. Isn't it interesting that somehow, insidiously, without even consciously becoming aware of this belief, we have started to think that you can only do one or the other? Who is telling us that story? Who does it serve?

Anyway. I took the stupid 90 minute round trip to my polling place which was VERY hot for some reason and I stood in the stupid line and some babies waved at me and I cast my vote for Kamala Harris and I'm glad I did it in the same way I'm glad after I do the dishes or take a stupid shower. Doing work doesn't always feel like anything. I also saw a really wonderful small black and white dog that I thought was a cat on a leash. I would not have seen that dog if I hadn't gone to vote. So politics can still make you feel good!!!

*I mean all this analysis is cute and everything BUT ALSO i did switch antidepressants twice in the last year, an astonishingly grueling process that almost made me [affect the trout population]. Could these things be related? hmmmmmmm, don't understand the question, won't respond to it.

[ssamlovr]

KATSEYE. — how the first kiss went (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)...

pairing. fem!r x non idol au ──wc; 1.8k (This was supposed to be posted yesterday but as soon as I finished I fell asleep sorry 🙏🏻)

୨९. NOW PLAYING; sunny days - wave to earth

SOPHIA LAFORTEZA...

Somehow, Sophia always had a way of making you nervous with just a single glance. Even when she did, you’d act annoyed, though deep down, you loved it.

That day was no exception. She always looked at you with sweet, love-filled eyes, never bothering to hide it. As your hands swung gently together during a calm night walk near your apartment, you were passionately talking about your favorite movie and its plot twist. It wasn’t that she didn’t care—she really did—but deep down, all she could focus on was your full, captivating lips moving.

You didn’t notice her silence until it became impossible to ignore.

“And the end—” Your words faltered as soon as your gaze met hers, and your heart raced. Even after all the teasing looks she’d given you before, none felt like this one. It sent a shiver down your spine.

“W-what...?” was all you managed to stammer, and for you, that was totally embarrassing. You silently thanked the universe for the darkness of the night because if Sophia realized how hot your cheeks had turned, her teasing would have been endless.

Still, at your question, Sophia paused, debating whether to lie and say she was listening or admit what was really on her mind.

She stopped walking, standing directly in front of you, and with a soft sigh, she murmured, “I’m dying to kiss you, that’s all.”

In that moment, her eyes sparkled with affection, and a wave of excitement washed over you. Because even though you’d never said it aloud, you had been impatiently waiting for this moment too.

Summoning every ounce of courage you had, you swallowed your nerves and, to your own surprise, replied, “Why don’t you, then?”

That was all Sophia needed. She tugged on your sweater, stood on her tiptoes, and closed the distance between you.

The kiss was slow, tender, and overflowing with emotion. It left Sophia blushing, and for once, the tables turned—you spent the rest of the night teasing her in revenge for all the times she had flustered you so easily.

LARA RAJ...

Lara always saw herself as a confident person—she always was. But when it came to you, she became someone completely different.

Yeah of course she made the first move, walked up to you, asked for your number with that flirty smile of hers. And, let’s be honest, from the moment you saw her, you fell head over heels. But now that she’s your girlfriend, you’ve seen a side of her you never expected.

For your first month together, you decided to spend the day at the beach. You went early, played in the ocean, laughed and teased each other like two lovestruck teenagers. The day flew by—though Lara always felt time moved too fast when she was with you.

Sitting on a blanket, your arms propped against the sand and Lara resting against your chest, watching the beautiful sunset, you felt like the happiest person in the world. Nothing could top this moment.

But even then, when Lara lifted her head and looked at you, her eyes shining with pure adoration, you were mesmerized.

From an outsider’s perspective, it could’ve been a scene straight out of a romance movie.

Lara’s eyes locked with yours for a while. She felt her heart racing, and it only got worse when, without realizing it, her gaze drifted to your lips. Throughout that first month, she’d often glanced at them when you were distracted, wondering how they’d feel against hers.

And as they say, actions speak louder than words. Your eyes mirrored the same admiration for her lips, and that was all the confirmation she needed. Her hand gently moved to your neck, and she leaned in slowly. She brushed her nose against yours before closing the distance.

In that kiss, Lara knew she didn’t need anyone else—she didn’t want anyone else but you. And you felt the same. Even though it wasn’t the first relationship for either of you, this was something entirely different—feelings neither of you had experienced before.

Without thinking, you said the words that solidified your devotion to her. Words you meant with every fiber of your being.

“I love you, Lara…”

Her throat tightened instantly as emotions overwhelmed her. It felt so good to be loved, to feel so incredibly happy.

“I love you too, Yn.”

DANIELA AVANZINI...

Dani always let things flow, even in the relationship. That’s why she thought the first kiss would happen naturally, just lean whenever she feels like it.

But it didn’t go as she imagined. From the moment she saw you, hugged you, and sat on the grass with the basket full of food, she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. Unfortunately, she was far too shy to make the first move.

Still, she looked absolutely adorable, playing with her fingers, more restless than usual. With every passing second, she inched closer to you—whether it was a casual touch of hands or resting her head on your shoulder while leaning against the tree.

Luckily for her, you’ve always been the perfect example of her dream girl, and that girl knows how to read minds.

Even though you might have been enjoying the sight of your nervous, silly girlfriend figuring out how to give you the kiss she so desperately wanted, you were just as restless. You couldn’t stop thinking about kissing those lips that had captivated you from the very beginning.

As you sat in front of her, your hand resting on her cheek, your forehead gently touching hers, you quietly whispered,

“Dani, can I kiss you?”

You felt your heart pounding in your throat, while your girlfriend felt hers in the palm of her hand, ready to give it to you.

Without saying a word, she kissed you. At first, it was just a quick peck, which made you chuckle softly. But Dani swore to God that from that moment, she became addicted to your lips. That’s why she threw herself into your arms, this time giving you a long, love-filled kiss, making the rest of the world fade away.

MANON BANNERMAN...

With Manon, words were always unnecessary. She knew you as well as you knew her, and anyone could have sworn you spent most of your lives together.

That’s why the first kiss was as perfect as everything you shared.

While cooking dinner, with you doing most of the work, you just had to set the plates on the table while the oven did its job. You turned around and hugged Manon. Even though cooking was fun, especially with your girlfriend, it always left you exhausted in the end.

After a long embrace, you pulled your head from her neck and looked at her—her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, and finally, her lips. You stared at them for a few seconds before looking into her eyes. She smiled and leaned toward, kissing you.

It felt like time stood still, both of you lost in the kiss until the sound of the oven timer broke the moment, signaling that the food was ready. You pulled away with a laugh, looking at Manon, who was pouting slightly for being interrupted. You gave her a small peck on the lips, making a shy smile appear on her face as she set the plates on the table.

MEGAN SKIENDIEL...

Megan always felt shy around you. She had never felt the way you made her feel, and even the slightest touch between your hand and hers turned Megan into a mess—blushing, nervous, and even more shy than usual.

Megan is crazy about you, that much was certain. But what she was also sure of was that she had no idea how to kiss you.

The poor girl spent every day imagining different scenarios of how it might happen, but every time she saw you, she couldn’t help but turn into a bundle of nerves.

That’s why, when she sat on the couch, staring at your lips with her cheeks flushed a deep red, she knew it was the moment.

Slowly, she leaned in, searching your eyes for any sign of disapproval. All she found were eyes filled with love, sparkling and excited.

The kiss felt endless, and when she pulled away, she couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, wrapping her arms around you and hiding her face in your neck.

JEONG YOONCHAE...

Yoonchae and you were two completely lovestruck teenagers. From the very beginning, things were calm and peaceful, each step taken slowly, savoring every moment.

For both of you, this relationship thing was new, especially the kisses.

Now, Yoonchae can admit that during those moments, she overthought everything. Because as much as it was her first kiss, it was perfect, and with the person she loved.

Both of you lying in Yoonchae’s bed, cuddling and watching a romantic movie.

Neither of you needed to say anything when the main characters shared a sweet kiss under the stars. As the scene played out, you both locked eyes and shared your own soft kiss.

And when you looked at her, you felt even more in love with her (if that was even possible). Her eyes sparkling like never before and a smile stretching from ear to ear. You smiled back and kissed her cheek, while Yoonchae held you tighter. That night, you slept hugging each other, you resting on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.

we melt this love and recreate it

as we imagine it

that's how we make sunny days.

[yesimwriting]

Pulling Away

A/n did i write smut for once? yeah. also timeline wise is this perfectly accurate? it’s iffy,, but this fic isn’t about the plot too much so it’s okay

Summary: You’re not the only one that’s feeling a little territorial thanks to the influx of people you’re around in Jackson. 

warnings: 18+, implied age gap, no condom, a tiny bit manipulative if you squint, brief mention of losing virginity.

----

He’s not a force of nature, no matter how hard he might pretend to be for the sake of those around him. Joel can’t actually change anything. So the shift in temperature you feel as Joel stills has to be a byproduct of what’s in your head. 

The kind of burning cold that better fits a fever runs through you and you hate yourself for it. This isn’t the first time you’ve been delusional when it comes to him. 

You’re working off of a quarter of his face against low lighting. It doesn’t make sense for you to be able to feel so much from the little of him that you can see. It’s not anger. Or at least, not just that. There’s definitely a subdued rage radiating from him, but it’s undercut by something that punches you straight in the gut. 

Maybe you’re being a little unfair, but you have a right to it at this point. You can’t follow him around blindly like some kind of puppy forever. Especially now that you’re both settled enough to be able to think of things outside of pure survival.

“Ellie’s asleep.” A flat observation that you can’t explain. Maybe it’s the need to break the silence, or maybe it’s a genuine attempt at making things feel normal. You two should still be able to talk. You never wanted that to end. “Swore she wasn’t tired, but passed out as soon as her head touched the mattress.” 

Joel lets out a small sound from the back of his throat. It’s a spike in the atmosphere. “Think I’m gonna go to bed, too.” You don’t understand your awkwardness or the urge to create distance. It’s not like Joel would hurt you, but then again, the buzz of adrenaline doesn’t seem to be coming from a place of fear. It’s an uneasy burning that worsens when you raise your eyes enough to meet his. “Night.” 

The one word is a little better and somehow so much worse. Not aggressive or trying to make things better. It’s just there. Civil. 

When he says nothing, you take it as your sign to call it a night. Tomorrow could be better. Sure, your rocky dynamic might be going through growing pains while you set boundaries that should have been established long ago, but you’ll likely survive this. You’re all staying together in the same house in Jackson for the time being and you both care too much about Ellie to separate over something small. 

Even if Joel won’t directly admit to it, the part of your relationship that feels like co-parenting is sacred. That’s part of the reason why the feelings you’ve been fighting with yourself to dismantle are so complicated. He cares about Ellie more than he wants to admit and the last thing you need right now is to tear away the little stability she’s finally been given. Not over a few awkward conversations and stiff moments. 

The weird irony that vaguely reflects the issues of the world before isn’t lost on you. If someone were to squint at the situation, you’d seem like a wife trapped in a marriage for the sake of her children. Maybe if it was happening to someone else you’d have enough energy to find it funny. 

You turn carefully, like a too loud squeak of your shoes could be what snaps the thinning thread tying you two to a hint of casualness. You don’t need to pass him to get to where you’re sleeping. The three of you had been set up in a space that allowed for each person to have their own room. It’s like that in theory, but in practice it’s more like Ellie’s room, Joel’s room, and the spare. 

A comfortable enough bedroom that you’ve maybe spent the entire night alone in twice in the weeks you’ve been here. You can’t even pretend that you keep the few things you own in there either. Joel’s an even lighter traveler than you, so slowly your items made their way into the drawers in his room. Now, your room is basically just where you go to change into and out of sleepwear.

You’ll get used to it, used to the draft that originally led to you giving up on rocky sleep the first night you ended up sleeping next to Joel. Your dreams kept you up even more than the cold, but when Joel’s drowsy voice called out to you in the dark, asking why you were awake, you blamed the night’s chill. That’s how it first happened. 

It was a mistake you should have never let turn into habit. You’re correcting it now. Setting boundaries to prevent heartbreak. It’s only a matter of time considering the way the women here look at him.

“Since when do you sleep in there?”

His voice is so gruff it instinctually freezes you. Any sarcastic comment at the back of your throat vanishes immediately. The both of you are fully aware of how you end up each night, but it’s a boundary in itself not to mention it. You’re not sure if it’s more him or you, but what happens at night and early in the morning is never mentioned.

It’s a dip into another reality. A space where Joel’s a little lighter, almost more open. Sometimes he’ll drag your arm with him when he moves onto his side, a silent way of asking you to stay close. On the best nights, he’ll joke about it, letting your limbs meld together under a blanket and swear he’s just trying to keep you warm out of the kindness of his heart. 

His humor is the worst. The kind that some might justify as a result of years of it being at a stalemate for years considering the tragic state of the world, but you know better. They’re the kind of jokes that take a second to settle because of his general exterior, but are meant to be so dumb they force out a smile. In another life, the little comments are dad jokes.

The peace bleeds into the mornings now, he’ll keep the closeness and remind you that you don’t have to get up immediately by mumbling something about Ellie still being asleep. Like she’s the only thing significant enough to get you two to return to reality. 

You’re convinced that these moments exist because neither of you mention them. He’s crossing a line you didn’t realize meant so much to you and he’s being dramatic it, too. It’s not the rarest thing for you to ‘attempt’ to sleep in your own bed. Sure, you’re more likely to lay in that room for a few hours on nights where Ellie stays up a little later, but this isn’t the strangest thing you’ve done. 

He’s ripping any chance of returning to that separate world away from you. It stings more than it should. “Thought I’d give it a try,” you voice is too low, too defensive, “It’s not a big deal.” 

The defense sounds so weak in your own ears, you don’t even want to imagine what he took from it. “Bullshit.”

His voice comes out in such a low huff you feel it more than hear it. If the sound had felt any less dangerous, you would have pretended to mistake it for another wordless grunt. Your lips part slowly as your mind struggles to create any kind of logical response. 

Pretending is clearly getting you nowhere. The only reason you ever pretended it would was pure delusion. Joel has always been able to see through you, through any shift in mood. Even when your lies are better, his ability to sense them is uncanny. 

He turns with no warning. Joel crosses the space between you before you can even fully register his steps. Your body tenses as heat rushes to your face in result of an oddly charged parody of fight or flight. You almost step back, one heel shifting back, but then you meet his gaze and the determined glint behind his eye is enough to melt you into place. 

There’s something else there, too. A focus that pins you into place even further. Holds you there better than the barrel of a pistol could. 

The absurdity of the warmth rooted in your chest should be enough to make the feeling go away. It doesn’t, so you force your lips to part again. You need to say something. Anything. “Joel?” Not that. Not just his name in a voice that feels violently small. 

“You’re pullin’ away.” 

The accusation in his voice leaves no room for argument. You try anyways, “No.” The rest of your thoughts can’t come out while you’re looking at him at the same time. There’s shame in dropping your gaze to focus on your shoes and the little space between you. “It’s not like that.” 

Joel lets out a low sound. The creak of the floor as he steps forward again snaps you out of your trance. You step back in a desperate attempt to keep the space between the two of you equal. Your back hits the wall before you can come close to achieving your goal. It’s a knee jerk reaction that leaves your face feeling even warmer than before. A part of you expects Joel to laugh at the sound or at least comment on it. He doesn’t. He continues forward until his mouth is so close to your ear the warmth of his breath lingers when he exhales. 

He takes a second there, relishing in your stillness. “Don’t lie to me.” Joel pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. “You don’t want to talk to me, you’re talkin’ about leavin’.” The southern drawl of his voice is increasing with his frustration. It’s distracting in a way that feels too convenient. Like he’s doing this on purpose. 

You swallow once. “You found your brother. I have a sister out there, I’d--I think now that things are more settled with Ellie it wouldn’t be the worst thing for me to look for her.” 

“And you don’t want us goin’ with you, but you’re more than willing to let the guy that’s always lookin’ at you--” 

“Oh my god, is that what this is about?” You are insane. Of course his issue is who mentioned it. John knows travel, leaves Jackson and comes back in one piece when he needs to. He wouldn’t be the worst person to have with you if you did want to start a rudimentary search for your sister. “I didn’t make any plans with John, it just came up.” 

“You don’t want us goin’ with you.” 

Your throat feels dry. The thought of it makes you feel cold. You haven’t seen your sister in a few years and so much has changed. You’re no longer in the QZ and your sister has no way of knowing that. She can’t reach out if there’s trouble or good news and she has no reason to assume that you’re safe. You know where she lives, and if she’s not there, you know a few of her usual spots. She doesn’t typically stray too far from her bubble. It wouldn’t be a long trip, just long enough. 

Long enough to give you some space. Long enough to remember what it’s like to not be around Joel all the time. Long enough to feel less about him. 

And you’d come back. You wouldn’t just walk out of his life and Ellie’s forever. The little bit of space you’re trying to get would make it easier for you to stick around in the long run because it’s the only way you can think to get rid of the feelings that are trying to ruin everything. 

“We haven’t been here that long and Ellie’s finally starting to feel settled. I don’t want to drag her out of that yet and make her feel like her entire life is just going to be her being dragged around the country.” 

Your words are a jumble, rushed together in a way that makes the honesty of them less effective. It’s a good point. Ellie just called her room hers the other day and even asked about moving the bed against a different wall.

Joel lets out a low breath, eyes hardening. “You’re right. She’s settlin’ and she needs you.” He knows he’s hit his mark when you don’t respond. “How do you think she’s gonna take the news that you’re leaving?” 

“Leaving to visit my sister.” You struggle to swallow. “Temporarily. It’ll take less than two weeks.” 

His lips pull into a frown as his eyebrows together. Moody and brooding. The look you’ve openly referred to as his old man scowl. “With John.” 

Ugh. This again. Why does it matter? Yes, John will be there, but it’s not like it’s just you and John. Your sister isn’t that far and she has access to supplies that aren’t common, she has an understanding with people that have easy access to medical supplies. 

But even if it was just you and John, it doesn’t matter. There are a lot of areas in which you factor in Joel’s opinion, but this is definitely not one of them. You two aren’t together and with the way he does nothing to show any discontent when the girls here start to look at him, he definitely doesn’t need you keeping his bed warm at night. 

“If I go, he wouldn’t be the only one there.” The fact that you’re trying to justify John’s presence leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re a grown woman, free to associate with whoever you want. You might jokingly call him your old man from time to time, but he has no right. “And if even if he was, what does it matter?” 

His jaw locks and the downwards tilt of his chin erases the little bit of confidence you’ve managed to build. “You’ve seen the way that boy looks at you.”

You have to bite your tongue to avoid from blurting out that he’s also seen the way majority of the women you see on a daily basis look at him. Joel’s also exaggerating. John does not have any feelings for you, and if he did, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like you see John as anything more than a friend. But even if you did--it is not his business. At all. 

“He doesn’t.” There’s little point in saying that, Joel’s not one to have his mind so easily swayed and he’s been wary of John since the beginning. Sometimes it even feels like the more you insist that he’s a good friend, the more Joel seems to dislike him. “And if he did, it doesn’t matter.” 

Your words feel like a retreat they shouldn’t need to be. Small, the meaning of the sentence compacted and straining against the limited syllables. A part of you expects Joel to understand what you do mean. That it doesn’t matter because it takes two interested parties to form any kind of relationship. That your mind isn’t even there in terms of feeling safe...that the only person who has ever made you feel safe enough to imagine anything beyond friendship is right in front of you. 

For the first time, Joel doesn’t pick up on the relevance of what isn’t said. You can feel his lack of understanding in the way he moves, placing one hand on the wall, near your head. You blink, trying in vain to explain the motion, explain his proximity. He’s caging you in. 

The heat of his body is practically inescapable, amplified by the way he smells. Joel showered a little earlier, his natural scent combining pleasantly with that of plain soap. After so many nights next to him, you would think you would have developed a tolerance. You haven’t. And even if you did, you doubt it’d matter...this is different. Dizzying. 

“Doesn’t matter?” 

He’s somehow even closer and somehow not touching you. The realization that that’s the worst part of this leaves your stomach fluttering. You need the feeling gone, so you force out the first words that come to mind, “It matters as much as all the girls that look at you like that.” 

It feels more bitter than it comes out, leaving a metallic taste on your tongue. You need out. You need space. You need sleep. Joel’s silence feels like opportunity, so as subtly as you can you try to shift away from the wall. Your back is off the wall for less than a second before you’re pushed back against it. 

Your body hits the wall before you can realize that Joel’s hand is on your hip. There’s too much surprise for that fact to settle, so you look up at him almost bewildered. You expect him to let go or at least look somewhat apologetic. He does the opposite, moving the hand on the wall under your jaw and closing the distance between you in a motion so quick you can barely register it. 

His mouth is on yours before your mind can catch up. It makes no difference to him. He’s rabid in his patience, taking what he wants without forcing your lips to part. His hand squeezes your hip and all at once it connects. You gasp and Joel pins you to the wall even more securely, deepening the kiss with an expert’s ease. 

It lasts until you can’t breathe and ends with his teeth grazing against your bottom lip as he pulls away. “All of this,” the words are exhaled lowly, “’Cause you’re jealous.” 

The kiss left you so light headed your first instinct is to just agree. To not think and do or say whatever you need to in order to get him that close again. But his tone is too sure, too teasing, and the implication isn’t something he can just get away with. “Jealous?” His smugness is hard to take with him holding you against the wall like this. It’s too vulnerable, like this might be some kind of game to him. It makes you feel transparent. Hollow. “Fuck whoever you want, I don’t care.” 

It’s like you’ve said nothing until Joel has the audacity to squeeze your hip. “Whoever I want?” His hand shifts up your hip, your shirt moving with him. “Hm.” His hum settles beneath your skin, effectively silencing you as his eyes take their time raking over your face and down your body. “Those were some big words from you.” 

Heat rushes to your face. It’s ridiculous--you curse more than that on a regular basis. He’s playing into context, too aware of what he’s doing. The urge to push burns twice as hard as buzzing in your chest. “They’re true. We’re not--we’re not anything, so if I want to go with--” 

“I’m not losin’ you.” There’s a desperation in there that comes out so hard it circles back to vulnerable. “You wanna go see your sister, we go see your sister. That’s how we got through everything else.” The hand on your hip moves down, his fingers dipping beneath the elastic waistband of your shorts. You hate yourself a little for the way your breath audibly catches. “Understand?” 

His hand lowers even further, long fingers pressing against the fabric of your underwear. You’re not breathing right and you can’t bring yourself to care. The only thing you can think of is closer. “Y-yes.” 

“’Yes’ what?” No sympathy in his voice or anything that would give away that he has a hand shoed down your pants. 

His touch picks up pace, rubbing against you until a whimper escapes your lips. “Yes, sir.”

Joel moves his hand away with no warning. The whine that escapes your lips doesn’t feel like your own. He’s barely touched you and you’re already like this. “Barely touched you and you’re already listening.” He hooks two fingers in between the band of your underwear. “Should’ve done this awhile again, then.” 

You’re burning all over, the only thing you can manage is a quick, “Shut up.” It lacks any bite. 

He pulls at the band of our underwear, letting it snap back into place. If you didn’t know any better, you’d consider the flash of something softer across his face as amusement. “If you want me to stop, you’ve gotta tell me.” 

Your nod feels desperate. Your entire body feels desperate. For the way he kissed you, the way he touched you. “I-I’ll tell you.” He’s still not moving, not doing anything. It’s some sort of punishment. It has to be. “Joel...” 

“You going to say ‘please’?” 

You have half a mind to tell him to fuck off, but then his fingers hook around your underwear again. A promise. “Please, Joel.” This is all unfamiliar but you trust Joel to get what you want, what you need. “Need you.” 

With no warning, he yanks down your shorts and underwear. They fall down your legs and you blindly kick them to the side. “Need me?” He tilts his head down, pressing an open mouthed kiss against your cheek, then two to your jaw. “Need me where, sweetheart?” 

God. Anywhere. Everywhere. Your desperation reminds you of how incredibly unfair it is that you’re already down to just our t-shirt and Joel’s still fully dressed. You move your hand slowly, carefully tugging at whatever piece of clothing on him you can reach. 

He’s unimpressed. “C’mon, use your big girl words.” His hand is in between your thighs, his fingers teasing at your entrance in a way that makes it impossible to focus on anything else. “You were usin’ them just fine a second ago.” 

“Joel,” he kisses your jaw again, forcing away all train of thought. It has to be intentional. “Joel,” again, too soft. 

“I know,” he exhales the words against your neck, “I know, sweetheart. Need me to take care of you.” Joel doesn’t wait for a reaction, just pushes his fingers fully into you. You gasp too loudly, Joel moves his free hand over your mouth. “Be a good girl and be quiet. Can’t wake up Ellie.” 

Shit. How did you not think of that? “You’ll be good and quiet for me? Let me stretch you out a bit first?” There’s a knot in your stomach that’s slowly taking over all of your senses. As long as Joel keeps working at it, you could promise him anything. You nod against the palm of his hand. 

You bite your tongue to keep from whimpering too loudly. “Need you to relax,” he presses into you even more firmly, “Get you ready for me.” 

He slowly eases his hand off of your face. “Joel, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, you just know you need more. You want him to consume you entirely. Feel him until he’s all there is.

You hear the sound of a belt buckle and his jeans shifting. Instinctually, you move a hand towards him, wanting to help, wanting to feel him. “There’ll be time for that, right now it’s about you.” You’re about to argue when he skillfully adds another finger. Fuck. “You’re tight,” he breathes, “No one’s ever touched you here?” 

His fingers curl inside of you and you have to burry your face into the fabric of his shirt to keep from crying out. “Only you.” 

“Look who’s found her manners.” He’s picking up the pace and smoothing down your hair as you squirm against him. “Should’ve done this sooner.” Just as the coil in your lower stomach tightens, Joel takes his hand back. 

You push yourself off of him, staring at him with an expression you know he’ll consider pouting. “Why’d you--” 

“Because I want you to remember this.” He pushes you back to the wall, pressing his body against you. The head of his cock brushes against your entrance. With no warning, he pushes into you. Your sharp gasp overlaps with Joel’s low groan. “Y’need a man to fuck the attitude out of you.” He moves slowly, the friction unbelievably overwhelming and somehow not enough. “That boy wouldn’t know what to do with you.” 

Joel presses you further into the wall, sinking into you as deep as possible before pulling out just to sink back in. His pace is even until his breathing picks up. You’re a mess against him, hiding your face in his chest when he starts fucking you with full force.

“You’re squeezing me so good.” Joel practically pants the words into your skin. “Fuck, ‘m going to--you gonna finish with me, sweetheart?” 

Your mind is mush, you can barely nod against him as his thrusts start to lose their focus. You’re pushed over the edge as Joel’s teeth graze against your neck. He pulls at your orgasm, dragging it along until your legs are jelly and he’s pulling out in order to not finish inside you. 

The two of you stay holding onto each other for what feels like a long time and not enough. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, okay?”

You pull your head off of him enough to look him in the eye. “Not without you.” 

He smiles, lines that you can imagine kissing forever etching themselves into his skin. “That’s my girl.” Joel runs a hand up and down your back fondly. “Let’s go to bed,” he presses a kiss against your jaw, “Give me the space to properly appreciate you.”

The thought makes your body burn all over again. “You sure you aren’t tired out, old man?” 

Joel huffs out what’s almost a laugh, “We’ll see who’s tiring who out, sweetheart.” 

[yutarot]

SHES THE MAN [l.hc smau]

23 - i guess we both had our secrets. wc: 1k

TBU campus — 11:07am

the past few weeks had gone slowly. it had taken you a while to get back into the routine of your old life, no esports, no ncu and no haechan.

just you, your friends and this horrible sinking feeling in your stomach.

you miss him more than you’ll ever admit to ten or yourself. but there is nothing you can do but watch, as days pass, in fear that you’ll forget all the memories you made with him. whether they were classed as real memories or not, you struggle to decipher, but considering the ache that you feel in remembering them, you decide that you can cherish them as if they were.

this morning was just another morning, leaving your dorm with ningning and making your way to classes. the campus always seemed so fresh, so new, and you hated the way that, with every corner you turn, you risk the chances of bumping into the one person you do not want to see.

eric sohn.

somehow, you’ve avoided him ever since ami revealed your secret. but you know that the moment you see him, he’s not going to let you go peacefully.

it had taken a while for people on campus to come to terms with what had happened. luckily, most people found it hilarious, patting you on the back when they saw you, congratulating you for doing what you wanted and nearly getting away with it.

you hang on to that ‘nearly’, clutching onto the possibility of what it might’ve been if you were never exposed.

your thoughts are interrupted.

“meet me back here at 1?” ningning asks, referring to you both having to split to go to seperate buildings at this point. you nod at her before making your way to the biology block.

if only you knew that you would never make it.

because, standing in your direct line of sight is not only the man you least want to see, but there he is, staring directly at you.

and he’s grinning.

you want to turn away, you really do, you’ve been dreading this interaction for weeks. but you keep walking forward until your face to face with him, your legs moving you out of curiosity and perhaps madness.

“hi yn.” he says. your glad he’s not got any of his friends with him, you couldn’t think of anything worse than having sunwoo laugh in your face.

“hi eric.”

“so, NCU huh?”

oh god.

“ye-“

“you know, i had my suspicions about you after seeing you help haechan out of that party, wasn’t very stranger-like of you.”

you stay silent. you know what question he’s going to ask next, and there’s nothing you can do to prepare yourself for the sting it’s going to hit you with.

“did he know you were lying directly to his face about who you were the entire fucking time?”

there it is.

you’re annoyed, “why do you care?” you say, but he only scoffs.

he’s smug, and you hate it. “all of that, for me? wow yn, you must have really hurt their feelings when you left. i’m curious, were you planning to tell them, ever? or were you just expecting to disappear out of nowhere? thinking no one would notice?”

there’s a sinister tone to his voice that confuses you. why is he asking so many irrelevant questions? why is he not asking you what happened?

but then, it hits you.

“you were behind it, all of it.”

his creeping smile answers your question before he can even open his mouth.

“hmmm and what do you mean by it?”

you hate how happy he is, you hate how much he’s smiling.

“you told ami that chenle had been away. you’d found out somehow, and you’d told her.”

he shrugged, “all it took was $20 in hyunjaes hand and he was happy to hack into chenles phone to send a text to ami. you should have known that younghoon was in the same basketball team as chenle, not my fault.”

“you’re sick.”

“i guess we both had our secrets.”

you’re appalled at how right he is, you had been stupid, you’d overlooked all the small details and you’d missed out on everything that was looking you directly in the face. eric beating up haechan unprovoked? him attacking haechan in the fortnite tournament? this entire time, he wasn’t trying to mess with haechan, he was trying to mess with you, and you just let it all happen because you turned a blind eye to the fact that he might have known. he had no reason for attacking chenle and the ncu team, unless he knew that it was never really chenle at all.

“you knew the whole time?”

he raises his eyebrows, smugness in his eyes that doesn’t cease to make you feel nauseous. “well, you helping haechan at the party was the main giveaway, why else do you think i started punching him in the first place?”

“you were trying to confirm it for yourself… to see if i would go over to help him…”

“oh you really are smart yn!”

you hate eric, in this moment and forever. he had planned this all perfectly from the beginning, disguising his hatred for you as hatred for haechan. and haechan didn’t deserve a single ounce of that hate.

you did.

you hate that it all could have worked out, you could have stayed in the team and you could have beat tbu. but it’s because of your own stupidity that you let eric find out everything.

and haechan. oh how you wish you could find him and apologise for everything, you wish you could go back to the very beginning, never get yangyangs twitter, never dm him and never accept that first game request from haechan.

this was all a horrible, horrible mistake.

and it’s all your fault.

so all you can do is walk away. that’s all you seem to ever do.

you walk, and you walk and you walk.

[m.list] [next]

TAGLIST - CLOSED - @lostinneocity @aek1ra @haechansleftshoulder @sunghoonsgfreal @cyjzzl @nanaxwi @neocrashed @candied-czennie @alethea-moon @vantxx95 @nerdsungie @morkiee @sthwaaberry @sunnystarred @p-d1ddy @starfilledgaze @markeroolee @polarisjisung @222brainrot @grassbutneo @minsugahh @daegalfangirl @injunnie-lemon @therealbobbyshloby @flwrs4marklee @chenlesfavorite @jirsungs @donghyucksslut @junviadinho @minkyuncutie @multifandomania @n0hyuck @yehet267 @nctrawberries @neogothyuckie @snoopyjimin @yewshi @theyluvfrankocean @nanamyh3art @i03jae @ckline35 @hyuoonp @galacticnct @haechology @lttlekomori @cutiebambi @tynlvr @sunflowerhae @joyzluvr @taeeflwrr

[shelleysmary]

lots of fans have made valid points and written well-thought-out posts about the trop ai drama, so i'm not gonna rehash them, but i do want to bring up something that no one seems to be talking about and it's the impulse that leads people to plug these things into ai generators in the first place.

fandom over the last year especially has become increasingly toxic to the point that actual billion-dollar corporations are afraid it. the result is subpar, pandering films, books, and television shows that break no new ground, recycle old tropes, and sacrifice story integrity to avoid catching heat from the loudest, most entitled people in the room. i'm calling this an issue of entitlement first and foremost because the idea that the audience should have any say over a non-crowd-created media project is preposterous. deciding that the cons outweigh the pros of watching something and choosing to walk away without making a fuss is a lost discipline now because everyone with an internet connection and a social media account believes that their vision reigns supreme. "how dare this show downplay my favorite ship! they were supposed to kiss! that was the whole point! the absence of this one thing i had on my wishlist is a crime against me personally!" so they turn to ai and click some buttons and now these gifs exist and are being circulated with an air of "i've righted a wrong." worse, the use of ai in this way is being conflated with the creation of fanworks???

there are reasons why i don't believe the ai saurondiel kiss is on the same raft as, say, making them kiss in a drawing or a published fanfic, but my main concern is with the spirit behind each. fanworks are made in homage to the source material, even the fix-it fics. there is an acknowledgment, a separation even, between the television show and the fanwork. this separation is necessary and i would say even integral to the nature of fan creation, while ai closes that gap until it no longer exists. the elimination of space between creator and audience also happens on social media, when disgruntled fans who have taken umbrage with a fictional character or creative decision directly harass the writers or the actors involved. more and more, fans are demanding to be in the rooms, in the minds, and to exert control over the people who tell their stories, and it has only ever worked to our collective detriment. now i'm not saying that if you liked and shared the saurondiel ai kiss that you're the same as the internet trolls who harass (mostly) women and people of color online. but i'm begging you to do some self-reflection and ask yourself why you feel entitled to seeing what you want on your screen.

what has changed in the last few years that would make you dissatisfied with, say, reading someone's fic or making your own drawing? is it a matter of "the tool is there, so why not use it?" is it "i believe it should have happened and it didn't and i feel cheated?" or maybe there's been a pattern you've noticed in your recent media "consumption" (god, i hate that word) where, unless a show or television series goes the exact way you want it to, it feels like you've been defrauded somehow? i'm not being facetious. i'm inviting you to notice that what you're feeling is probably discomfort, disappointment, maybe even cognitive dissonance because you imagined it going one way, and now you're at a loss because it didn't. you built it up in your head, you had something to look forward to, you were convinced that it would happen, it was exciting and you were so eager to get to that point, and then.... and then...

we've all been there. and it sucks. but i also want to remind you of how important it is to preserve the separation. this space is ours. the writer's room, the filming set, the editing room, those spaces are theirs. the actors' likenesses are theirs. thinking beyond trop, the separation is how we get creative works that challenge us politically, emotionally, that make us uncomfortable and tell us important truths. writers shouldn't have to - and shouldn't FULL STOP - do what we want them to do. sometimes that means knowing when to walk away, when to say "i no longer enjoy this show, i will no longer support it" or "i will continue to watch but pretend things went differently," the latter of which has been the spark that has moved so many online fans to draw, paint, write, or sew. it's a type of creation that allows "canon" and "fanon" to exist parallel to one another. moreover, the effort it takes to make anything with your own two hands, with your own time, and with your own energy increases your appreciation for the creative impulse. films and books and television stop being "products" for your "consumption" because you're aware of what goes into them, and it becomes easier to look at things you don't like or disagree with and say, "you know what, i'm gonna pass," or "not in my headcanon."

oh, and by the way plugging things into an ai generator? is theft. the same way that it's generally frowned upon for people to use ai to, say, write the rest of an unfinished fic without the express permission of the fanwork creator, using the actors' likenesses to make them kiss goes against everything the actors' union fought for last year. i'll also add that it's incredibly creepy. almost all of us are in agreement that intimacy coordinators are a good thing because they act - again! - as a separation between what's "real" and what isn't, the same way going on ao3 and reading a fic that very clearly says on the tin that it's a fanfic, unaffiliated with the official ip, is a separation. it's another beast entirely to normalize fan-use of ai, to say you support creatives, support actors, support unions, and then do this in your personal life. i repeat the question: what impulse leads anyone to believe that this is okay other than a feeling of misplaced ownership?

tl;dr: ai nonsense does not belong in fandom spaces. (in my home state of california, it is illegal to use digital replicas of an actor's voice or likeness in place of their actual services without their informed consent [which, in spirit, is what you're doing by using ai to make your gifs]). we all just need to mind our own business and go back to writing our fix-it fics and complaining to our friends in relative peace. if you're finding it impossible to do so, ask yourself why. remember that fanart is our longstanding tradition. stop outsourcing it to an unregulated technology just because your two faves didn't kiss.

[enlogs]

are we still friends? ⊹ ࣪ ˖ stairmaster irl + 2.1k

part one | part two | part three

If there was one thing Sunghoon was the best at, it would be running late.

Every day it was a different reason; whether it be him forgetting to put his glasses on (in fact, it had happened the other day. He ran down the stairwell of his apartment and into the parking garage without questioning why his vision was so bad. That is, until he began to put his car into reverse and heard a very long, very angry honk coming from behind him. Never trust Park Sunghoon to adequately check his blind spots.), standing in a particularly long line to pick up Y/N’s favorite drink, or even losing time to traffic.

In true Sunghoon nature, he was late.

Well, there were a variety of factors in play. Last night, he had pulled an all-nighter with Jake—his ever-faithful best friend, who just so happened to be one of Y/N’s close friends as well—to debrief the details of his confession. (Although Jake would argue that “attempt at a confession” would be a more befitting label.)

“Let me get this straight,” Jake says, punctuating his sentence by sitting up. His eyebrows furrow as if he is in deep thought. After a pregnant moment of silence, he continues, “Y/N invited you over, potentially under the assumption that you were going to confess, but nothing happened?”

“Yes, Jake, that’s exactly what happened. Nothing! I don’t even know how I could have fumbled that badly,” Sunghoon groans. “I just—”

“...fuck with her heavy?” Jake interjects with a teasing grin. In a drunken stupor many months prior, Sunghoon had admitted to him long-time crushing on Y/N by describing his affections as, candidly put, “fuckin’ with her heavy.” Jake cheekily reaches over and ruffles Sunghoon’s hair, much to the younger man’s chagrin. “Or, in your words, ‘just left but kept thinking about her’ even though you were barely one foot deep in your car?”

Leave it to Jake Sim to crush your dreams without trying.

Maybe trusting Jake to hold onto a secret was a bad mistake. What if he was a sleeper agent enlisted by Y/N to feed him propaganda? What if he was just putting thoughts into Sunghoon’s mind to deter him from chasing the girl of his dreams? Or, worse of all, what if Jake had a spycam installed in his glasses?

Maybe that was precisely it: his glasses—now glaringly obvious to Sunghoon that obviously they were Meta smart glasses all along—must have been streaming the conversation directly to Y/N so that it could expose each of his deepest thoughts. Maybe Jake Sim was a phoney best friend after all.

“—ello? Earth to Sunghoon? Dude, you gotta stop tuning me out. l abandoned my Valo match for this,” Jake whines. Laying back down, Jake tilts his once abandoned phone towards his face to check the time. “Don' even want to know how much RR I lost for leaving midway.”

This conversation was pointless. The word nothing kept playing in Sunghoon’s mind: nothing had happened, nothing had changed regarding his relationship with Y/N, and nothing was making it directly to Sunghoon’s anxiety riddled mind to assuage his stress. Maybe Jake’s glasses really weren’t recording their conversation. “Hey, come on man. Seriously, how’d it go?”

Apologizing, Sunghoon massages the crease on his forehead that had somehow grown between his eyebrows. He clears his throat a few times before dropping his voice to a near-whisper, still mildly paranoid the room was wiretapped: “The confession had gone like this…”

—

“Welcome back - I hope the traffic wasn't too bad,” Y/N teased, holding the door open. Sunghoon had made a mad dash up the stairwell—the elevator would have been far too slow for his impatient heart, which was beating ten times faster than ever before—as soon as he received the text. Knowing that the “door was always open for him” made him giddier than a soldier (he was too young for mandatory service) reuniting with his wife (neither person had made it out of the friendzone yet) after five years of active duty (more like five minutes).

In between breaths, he responded with “Calm five story—” a wheeze, “sprint, nothing a five minute—” gasp “session on the pseudo-StairMaster couldn’t beat, baby. Did you know your rent actually accounts for two gyms instead of one? Haha.” Doubling over as a few more coughs bubbled in his throat, Sunghoon awkwardly waddled out of the doorway and toward the kitchen to fix himself a mug of water.

("I'm staking a claim on this mug," Sunghoon declared, holding a hand-painted ceramic mug. Littered with doodles and plenty of stars, the mug was YN's magnum opus—in Sunghoon's eyes—and was created during a spontaneous afternoon trip out.

"It's all yours, dude, no one's gonna take that."

"Good, it's mine.")

Y/N, having witnessed Sunghoon’s anguish, rubbed soothing circles onto his back. “Thought I made you nervous, Hoon. You’re still using that nickname?”

Sunghoon gulped, shooting up. All of the energy and vigor suddenly rushed into his body. Maybe it was also fear—so much for trying to show off his insane athleticism. Was it bad that he hadn’t visited the rink in a while? Maybe he could use some more training. Would Y/N like someone that could do pirouettes on the ice and on concrete? Is it too late to start his training arc? “Why, why? Can I not call you that?” Simultaneously setting the mug in his hand down, he slightly tilted his head as genuine concern and confusion laced his voice.

Was he being too overbearing by flirting? He was toeing the line between affectionate and platonic with that name—sometimes he’d similarly call Jay “babe” or “baby,” but that was never in a romantic light. Not like how he meant it now.

“No, I like it when you call me that,” Y/N responded absolutely. Her smugness mirrored Sunghoon’s energy over text; nothing beats the confidence that iMessage Sunghoon magically had. Ironically, the strong persona he put on through text was far from reality. “Oh, but that reminds me. What did you want to tell me?” The dreaded question had finally come out. Thank you, autocorrect and predictive speech, for carrying Park Sunghoon so far through life until now.

Sunghoon began to walk towards the floor-to-ceiling window of the living room, staring at the view ahead of him. A perfectly lit view of the Han River and Nam Mountain Village: a stunning view courtesy of Y/N’s constant hard work and effort, which Sunghoon had always admired for all the years he had known her.

What a good life she had made for herself. How could Sunghoon ever fit into the perfect, idyllic life Y/N forged by hand? There was no way she could reciprocate his affections when her entire life was ahead of her, not when he was too worried to let the realities of his feelings leave his mind.

“Come here,” he beckoned.

The slight smile that remained Y/N’s face as she walked toward him left him dazed; this noncommittal facial expression, endearing despite its lack of real emotion, left little to assuage Sunghoon’s beating heart. “This is a nice view,” she acknowledged, eyes swimming through the ocean of lights and windows ahead of her. Turning to face Sunghoon, Y/N’s smile widened: “but it would be much nicer if you could tell me what's on your mind.”

If only it was that easy. The words lingered on the tip of his tongue: “I’m in love with you. Can I be your boyfriend?” Even simpler, he could’ve just asked “Will you be mine?”

Instead, fear got to the best of him. Sure, they had adopted a child together—a stuffed animal he had picked up in Japan, yes, but it was a child nonetheless. Y/N’s infectious grins and the kiss on the cheek he received that day begged to differ—but did that necessarily mean they had to be together?

Mentally calculating the cost of rabbit child support, Sunghoon decided that it was best to keep this confession conversation for another day. Is being an absentee plushie-dad really that horrible? Perhaps the safety net of being on iMessage really emboldened him too much (Heeseung would probably argue that this was one of the consequences of the industrial revolution).

“I just,” he frowns. “I’m um. Just thinking about how cheesy that drama you made me watch was. Seriously, baby, I don’t know how you sit through all of that fluff.”

“That’s what you ran up the stairwell for?” Y/N laughs. Sunghoon swears the lights in the apartment twinkled. Were the lights capable of syncing to music? “Well, I think you could’ve texted me this. Or we could’ve called. But I’m glad that you shared this information with me.” Is it possible to record someone’s voice and store it on Apple's podcast app forever?

If Jake was around, he definitely would be calling Sunghoon a coward: a traitorous coward who didn’t deserve to be part of his Fortnite Squad nor his Overwatch 5 stack. Maybe Sunghoon had hyped up his confession too much.

It would probably be a good idea to invite Jake over later tonight to rant.

“I guess so,” Sunghoon sighs—why was he so scared? It’s not like it was difficult to talk to his best friend. “I was just thinking about you so much that it transcended the bounds of iMessage. Can you blame me?” Where did this sudden courage come from? Feeling bold, he takes a few small steps and wraps his arms around the waist of the woman in front of him. Fuck being an absentee father; this was where he belonged. Still swimming off of the high of Jake-may-kick-me-off-his-roster-if-I-totally-fumble, Sunghoon leans over and mumbles “For you I’ll sprint up and down your real life StairMaster thirty times if I have to” directly into Y/N’s ear.

“I know you would—but only if I prepare water in your favorite mug ahead of time, though, right?”

Okay, maybe Jake Sim will beat his ass after this rollercoaster of emotions dies down, but at least he’s winning now. It’s all about tenses: Future Housewife Sunghoon - 0, Current Breadwinner Sunghoon - 1.

“You know me so well.”

—

“Bruh.”

“You really had to code-switch to your Australian accent for that?” Sunghoon’s jaw drops, uncharacteristically whining at his friend. “‘Bruh’ to you too, man. The confession wasn’t that bad, I promise!”

Laughter bubbles in Jake’s chest, breaking free between each syllable: “What confession? Buddy, you didn’t even tell her how you felt! You just told her her C-Dramas are cringe and that you’re a wannabe gym bro!” And fuck StairMaster.

“Well, I was getting there!” Nevermind the fact that Sunghoon’s “been getting there” for the last decade; progress is still progress. “And, for the record, I thought Hidden Love was good! I swear! I’m literally team Jia Xu!”

Jake continues to giggle, flipping over his phone to read the time again, “whatever, man. I believe you. Regardless, I’m gonna go to bed now—holy shit, how is it already 5 in the morning?”

Plush rabbits, Chinese romance shows, and Sim Jaeyun’s unadulterated hatred could wait. Sunghoon’s urge to kick his feet and scream into a pillow could not.

—

And maybe the fact that he was due to meet up with Y/N couldn't wait either.

do answer (future park yn) now

hii where are you :3

dont tell me there's traffic wherever u are bro its 11am

You

Um

Mahbe there's a bit of congestion n

Naybe*

MAYBE* Congestiin* IM OMW

STAY PUT IMSORRY

do answer (future park yn)

Park Sunghoon I Will Have Your Head Roasted On A Spit

oki ^.^ (with malice)

You

I’m driving with Do Not Disturb While Driving turned on. I’ll see your message when I get where I’m going. (I’m not receiving notifications. If this is urgent, reply “urgent” to send a notification through with your original message.)

do answer (future park yn)

URGENT

fuck you

Jk drive safe :P

To be fair, in all of his years of living, Sunghoon never once claimed that the P in Park Sunghoon stood for Punctual. (But, as drunken Sunghoon once argued: the A in Sunghoon does stand for Always on time!).

Sure, maybe he should've taken the Metro; maybe he should’ve walked; maybe he should’ve done anything but trust himself to freeball a schedule without having a means of accountability, but he was still just Sunghoon doing as Sunghoon does.

Despite the idea of always being late to functions most likely accumulating into karmic retribution or another ramification in some form, Sunghoon was able to instantly find parking. It only took a few overly wide right turns and a couple illegal merges—the G in Sunghoon stood for “good-ish” driver—for him to make it to the parking lot of the Starfield Coex.

Chronic lateness may be a trend for me, the voice in Sunghoon’s head reasoned, but at least I’m not absent. This is for you, D.Va. (Yes, he named his rabbit daughter D.Va after the greatest Overwatch tank character of all time. D.Va’s mother did not agree with this decision.)

—

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? sunghoon mini sns au

part one | part two | part three

tag list [open]: @miniaturenami @yeodungiedelights

author's note: this is a weird intersection between a american/australian/south korean mix and. whatever the hell i got going on in my brain.

[varpusvaras]

Fox's position as the scapegoat in fandom is very interesting and something I honestly think the writers kind of made him to be.

The part of the fandom (which is...really large) that doesn't like him always blames him for Order 66, in saying that "if he hadn't killed Fives, then Order 66 wouldn't have happened". Interestingly, they never blame Anakin, who had even more direct power to stop it. Fox had no idea that anything was going on, and did what he had been taught to do from the moment he was created: Followed orders. He didn't shoot Fives because he necessarily wanted to; meaning there were no personal feelings attached to what happened. Anakin, on the other hand, went and voluntarily murdered a lot of people for only personal feelings. But somehow that is not Anakin's fault.

(I've posted about it before, but the same people who blame Fox are always happy to boast about Anakin murdering him. Always happy to bring out Anakin's trauma as a slave, and then be happy about him murdering another slave, someone directly under his power, who had never known anything else than being a slave in his entire life, and who had been indoctrinated from birth to believe that being slave was all that he was, and that he should be proud of it)

Some fics from people who do like Fox also put him in the position of the scapegoat, where they have all the other clones blaming him for everything that had happened, and ostracise him. In some fics I've seen, they continue this even after the war has ended, even in scenarios where Palpatine didn't win, and this feels like the clones, who have been made to believe in the system, cannot make themselves blame said system. No, it's easier to blame one of their own instead, no matter how little power Fox ever had in his entire life.

The writer's also do this, by having Fox mess something up (in the writer's eyes at the very least) almost every single time he is on screen. I think the only time he wasn't positioned to be in the wrong in some capacity was on his first appearance in the movie, where he did a front flip down some stairs and shot at the bad guy of the movie. Almost every single other time he is doing something wrong or messing something up, causing something negative to happen, be it the bombing on Coruscant (not actually his fault, but the fault of the people who wanted to do it and prevent the peace talks from happening; still, Fox is put in the middle of it), or what happened with Ahsoka (from Fox's point of view, there was a dangerous person on the run, who had just killed multiple people in a violent way, and was continuing their rampage, killing his brothers as well). Objectively speaking, Fox is completely in the right with everything he does here, but the writer's still seem to position him to being wrong, because he is against Ahsoka, and Ahsoka is the character the viewer is supposed to be rooting for (no matter how much worse she actively makes her own situation during the arc).

No one ever remembers all the good qualities he had: he was hard-working, capable, brave, and cared for his brothers. No, instead, the fandom is endlessly debating over giving him, a slave who never knew anything else, some shred of dignity, while freely giving the absolution to the fascist who is standing over his still warm corpse.

[starlightsams4]

Suns Trauma (Old Moon)

(I’m just gonna add a TW here if I get really pissed or heated up this is a pretty sensitive topic for me and it just pisses me off, also sorry if this becomes a bit of a vent )

ALSO TW FOR TOPICS OF ABUSE 

It infuriates me how much Sun's trauma gets overlooked. Honestly. This rant is mostly about the abuse he endured from old Moon because it disgusts me how easily people dismiss that kind of suffering. Old Moon was a TERRIBLE brother. He called Sun names, threatened to kill or hurt him, blamed everything on him, and put immense pressure on him. He even physically abused him. And yet, people just ignore this. It’s worse then it sounds— Having someone you trust completely threaten you, call you stupid, and actually hit you sometimes is AWFUL. It HURTS. Especially when it’s from someone you love!

I get that Moon had his own issues and needed someone to talk to and let anger out on, but dumping all of that on one person is not healthy. And let’s be real—Sun didn’t have anyone else to turn to. He only had Moon. And Moon had no idea what he was doing. Sure, Killcode influenced him, and he had built up anger and stress too, but Killcode never directly hurt Sun. That was Moon. Moon abused Sun.

And yet, people are more concerned about Lunar’s abuse, which, yes, was terrible, but remember: Lunar was with Eclipse for about a year, maybe less. Eclipse slapped Lunar only once if I right and called him names (also I think he threatened him a couple times). I’m not saying Lunar’s abuse wasn’t bad—abuse is abuse, and it’s always horrible. But Sun was punched, yelled at, threatened, and called names FOR ALMOST 10 YEARS (edit, it was confirmed Sun and moon were made 9 years ago. So athst around 7-8 years of abuse.). And somehow, Sun’s trauma gets ignored. It pisses me off. Lunar atleast had support too after the Eclipse situation. IT REALLY IS THAT BAD TO HAVE SOMEONE YOU LOVE CALL YOU NAMES AND THREATEN TO HURT YOU. It’s not something to shrug off! And this is only a fraction of what Sun went through.

(I am honestly finding out how much I kin sun by typing this WTF 0.o)

edit: it was just confirmed sun and moon were made 9 years ago. Meaning sun has suffered almost 8 years of moons abuse

[onlyjaeyun]

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 – 𝟒𝟐

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦

⤲ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤲ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐀𝐔, 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐀𝐔, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

⤲ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕𝐤

⤲ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭��𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭: 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐯𝐦𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠

Growing up there's only ever been one person in your life who you've never felt uncomfortable with: your older brother.

You can't remember a single time where things had gotten so awkward, weird or tense between the two of you to the point where the silence put you in a position of discomfort.

Until now.

In the past twentyfour hours, Sunghoon has only said two handful of words to you directly, something you're also not quite used to, yet it's the way his usually so calm and gentle gaze has turned stone cold and distant, which has been keeping you on the edge.

You've tried to initiate conversations by showing him things you thought he'd be interested in or bringing up old memroies feom your childhood, only to be met with complete silence and barely any eye contact.

For some reason, you're pretty sure your brother has somehow found out about your relationship, yet on the other side no matter what you think of, nothing makes sense to you, since you both had been extra careful to not be seen in public, so careful to the point where you barely talked to each other whenever you happened to be anywhere outside of your apartment.

However, everything about Sunghoon's behavior points to it and as you both finally make it out of Seoul's airport and into the fresh air, you've just come to accept his silence and the tension it comes with.

Every now and then you lift your head to look at him, yet your brother seems completely zoned out, his eyes staring at something in the distant, delicate face halfway hidden by a black face mask, while the other half is covered by a pair of sunglasses and his baseball hat.

You've never seen him like this and the worry has already taken complete control over your system, so much it actually feels like every breath you inhale has turned into a challenge and the heaviness on your chest is basically about to suffocate you.

The ride to his girlfriend's apartment is already doomed to be even worse than the one from a about a week ago and for the first time since you've started dating Heeseung, you actually dread seeing him. Not because you don't want to see him but because you're pretty sure his presence is gonna make the tension even less bearable.

By the time you two come to stand at the parking lot of the airport, Heeseung has already spotted you and as he turns on the engine of his car, his heartbeat feels heavy, yet seems to thrum in his throat at highspeed at the same time.

Never once in his life has he felt as nervous and anxious as he does right now, the lack of knowledge of what's going to happen and how life is going to be like after today slowly eating its way through his skin and right into his head.

He's tried his best to avoid every kind of thought about Sunghoon's possible reaction, but now that the day has actually arrived, he physically can't think about anything else.

The fact his anxiety has taken over every bit of his body to the point where the excitement about finally seeing you again has gone completely lost worries him; it's never gotten this bad and Heeseung genuinely doesn't know how to handle everything that's been going on in his body.

With every single step you feel like your heart is about to jump out of your throat and for some reason you can't get yourself to say anything, even as you watch your boyfriend get out of his car to help you two with your luggage.

To your surprise, your brother actually pulls his mask down to his chin, quietly thanking his best friend before he opens the door to the passenger seat, leaving you both absolutely no choice but to look at each other in complete silence.

Every now and then Heeseung tries his best to start a conversation the way you've been doing it before you gave up, until Sunghoon calmly leans his head back and some of the tension slowly starts leaving the small space of your boyfriend's car.

You try to distract yourself by texting your best friends, the girls wishing you good luck and Jungwon giving you his best words of affirmation to calm your racing mind, yet none of it seems to help.

And in that moment you finally put a name to the weird feeling in your stomach: helplessness.

You've been feeling absolutely helpless and lost ever since your brother has stopped talking to you and the longer you think about it, the more the realisation hits you, the thicker the veil of tears blurring your vision becomes.

You quickly take a deep breath, feeling glad and relieved as your eyes finally recognize the familiar streets of Ning's apartment building and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, you can't wait for this night to just be over.

Neither one of you says a single word up until you step foot into the young student's apartment, a place you had quickly found comfort in as every little detail reminds you of her warm heart and kind soul.

But even Ning's apartment seems to be filled with tension, the owner's big, usually so happy and excited eyes filled with worry and concern in a way that sends shivers down your spine and if it wasn't for the way she pulls you into her gentle arms, you would have probably left already, just to escape this gut wrenchingly tense atmosphere.

Heeseung and you both thank Ning with a tight lipped smile before you sit down on complete opposites sides of her dark couch, attentively observing your brother who has yet to take off his jacket.

By the time Sunghoon reaches for his face mask, your eyes curiously roam his face, only to take notice of his flushed, tear stained cheeks.

And even before he could utter a single word, the realisation hits you at full force.

"Bae Sumin."

Sunghoon's voice is shaky and hoarse, his eyes glossy and slightly reddened, the sight easily breaking your heart into thousands of pieces before your mind can even question the name he had decided to say as his first two words in almost twenty hours.

"I had to find out that you've been screwing behind my back through Bae fucking Sumin?"

His words are harsh and filled with wrath, disappointment and genuine confusion. And they don't fail to leave you absolutely speechless.

You can't get yourself to physically react; your whole body completely frozen as you try to process what's actually going on, it's actually the burning trail of wetness on your cheeks which pulls you back into reality.

"Say something", Sunghoon suddenly yells and the unexpected high volume of his voice makes you flinch.

"One of you. Fucking say something."

Neither one of you dares to look anywhere but your brother and as your eyes take in the sight of your usually so energetic and lively sibling oozing nothing but exhaustion and sadness, you can't hold back the soft sob from bubbling up your throat.

Heeseung on the other hand is still in utter shock.

His whole body has gone into standby and for a moment he's pretty sure he's about to pass out because of how heavy his heart feels.

All of a sudden memories of all the times his best friend, his soultwin, the one man who's been by his side through it all, had broken down in front of him as the burden on his tiny shoulders had become too much.

"Please, tell me that fucking bitch is lying", your brother pleads, his voice breaking at the end of his sentence and that's the moment where it becomes too much and the shame finally overwhelms you, "please tell me the two most important people in my life have not been lying straight into my fucking face for fucking weeks."

Silence.

His heartbreaking plea follows nothing but absolute silence.

"Wow", Sunghoon suddenly scoffs, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks as he throws his head back with a soft sob and quickly covers his face with his hands.

And as you finally get yourself to shift your gaze to look at your boyfriend, you quickly regret your decision as the sight of a pale Heeseung just adds onto the pain in your chest.

You can actually watch the way he's slowly zoning out to stop his brain from completely destroying his soul and save him from this pain, only to fail miserably.

"We've been meaning to tell you, Hoonie", you whisper and lower your head, swallowing the knot in your throat in hopes of making the process of breathing just a little bit easier.

"Yeah? Have you? When was that supposed to happen? At your fucking wedding day?"

Yet again the sudden raise of his voice startles you and for the first time in months you feel all those memories from your childhood coming back.

"N-No, we've just been waiting for the right mo-", "Shut the fuck up."

It's this particular outburst which manages to brutally pull Heeseung back into the moment and when his brain processes what had just happened, he feels a wave of shock break down over him, knocking every single breath out of his lungs.

If there's one thing Sunghoon has always been adamant about, it's to never, ever raise his voice at you, his precious sister. Not after you both grew up in a household where yelling and screaming had become normality. Not after your parents had refused to talk to you in a proper manner and always opted for the loudness of their words instead of the meaning.

"I can't fucking stand either one of you right now", he spits and runs both of his hands over his face, harshly wiping away his tears and you both watch the way his anger fades into disappointment, you feel yourself silently choking on your tears.

"Sunghoon, please–", "I told you to shut the fuck up. Take your fucking boyfriend and leave. Leave now, Y/N or I'm going hurt your feelings. And his."

His words are anything but a request, an actual threat which has your blood run cold and with big, tear filled eyes you look at Heeseung, who has already gotten onto his feet.

"Stop looking at me like that, Lee Heeseung", your brother suddenly spits, irritated as well as furious by your boyfriend's gaze and for a moment you're genuinely afraid he might actually get physical, "or I'm actually going to punch you in the face."

"You've been fucking my sister and didn't even have the fucking balls to tell me", Hoon presses through gritted teeth and at the way his hands are balled into tight fists you can tell just how much he's holding himself back.

"No", Heeseung finally says and to your surprise his voice is stable and strong, despite the thick tears running down his cheeks.

"What the fuck do you mean 'no'? So you haven't been screwing my little sister?"

"No, I haven't been screwing her behind your back. I've been in love with your sister for over a decade. All I did was finally act on it."

You simply can't hide the shock on your face.

You don't know what exactly you had expected from your boyfriend, especially considering his most recent mental state, but this was definitely not on the list.

Everything suddenly feels like a fever dream and you're convinced you're going to wake up every second now.

"Oh, fuck off", your brother just scoffs and rolls his eyes, "this is not about how much you love her and we both know it."

"Okay, so it's about us not telling you, right? Have you ever thought about why we chose not to tell you about it?"

A beat of silence follows Heeseung's words, which he gladly takes as an approval to continue.

"You knew what she means to me, yet you still made me promise and choose between the two of you in one of our most vulnerable moments. Yes, not telling you wasn't right, yet we never willingly decided this."

"Are you blaming me for your lack of guts, Heeseung? Are you being fucking serious right now?"

Sunghoon seems shocked and genuinely confused, his thick brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line as your boyfriend takes two whole steps closer to stand right in front of him.

"You're my fucking brother", Heeseung suddenly throws back at him and you can tell how badly he wants to burst into tears, yet manages to stay calm just enough, "I'd fucking die for you. If you asked me to go and jump off of a fucking bridge right now, I'd do it without hesitation. You saved my life and nothing I will ever do will be enough to show you my gratitude."

A shaky sigh falls past his lips as he lowers his gaze, the exhaustion and tiredness of the last few days finally catching up on him and a weird sense of pride floads your system.

"I was the one who couldn't tell you because yes, I didn't have the fucking balls to tell you that I broke the promise I gave all these years ago, Sunghoon. I –", Heeseung inhales slowly, greedily sucking in every bit of oxygen he can get to ease the racing of his heart in his tight chest, "I didn't tell you because I couldn't – can't bear the thought of losing my dearest friend."

And as those words leave his lips, you finally let out the breath you didn't know you were holding in, only to choke on it at the sight of your tall brother suddenly bursting into tears.

"Why didn't you just t-talk to me, Heeseung? Why? Did you really think I'd make you choose between us, break up with her and breakk her heart when you're the only man on this planet who's worthy of her in every way possible? The only fucking human being I ever trusted when it came to her, her safety and happiness?"

Heeseung physically can't get himself to look at his best friend as he realises his mistake, too hurt and broken by his own decisions and thoughts, his lack of trust and faith in his closest friend and only person who has never left his side.

"I – was just so scared of losing you, Hoonie", your boyfriend whispers and looks away, his gentle cries quickly turning into wholehearted sobs as he breaks down and you can't do anything about it.

"So you decided to go and do it all behind my fucking back?"

Those words elicit yet another loud cry from your boyfriend and you hate how helpless you feel, knowing you could just go up to him and take him into your arms, yet refusing as you force yourself to give them the space they need.

This isn't about you. This is about them and their bond, their friendship and their communication.

"I'm sorry", Heeseung breathes and for a moment you're actually scared that things might never go back to how they used to be just a day ago, the one worry behind all of your boyfriend's sleepless nights.

"You broke my fucking heart", Sunghoon says and finally averts his gaze to meet yours, didappointment and pain lingering in the usual softness of his brown eyes, "and I really can't look at you two right now. Please just leave."

"Hoonie...", yet again your brother refuses to give you the privilege of finishing your sentence.

"Please, Y/N", his voice is a mere whisper and the way he can barely get himself to say your name easily shatters your already broken heart into yet another set of million pieces, "don't make me turn into my biggest nightmare. Please."

All you can do is nod in defeat, the mental, physical and emotional exhaustion too overwhelming to leave room for any discussion and with a soft sigh you finally stand up and actually approach your boyfriend.

Heeseung wordlessly turns away from your brother, his head still lowered and when you realise he also refuses to look at you, your heart tightens in your chest and subconsciously you take his face into your hands and almost force him to meet your gaze.

You don't say anything. The words lingering on the tip of your tongue but not a single one making it over the edge and into a proper sentence.

"Time", Sunghoon suddenly sighs and has both of your gazes shift to him, "I just need time."

And that's the last thing he says before he makes his way past his teary eyed girlfriend standing in the doorframe, his disappearance following the sound of a door falling shut behind him and for some reason you actually feel like breathing has actually become easier again.

"Did you two hear that?" Ning's soft voice sends chills down your body and yet again, you can't get yourself to verbally respond to her.

"Everything's going to be okay. Please just give him the time and space he needs, okay?"

And for some reason you don't have it in you to doubt her words of reassurance as your brother's demand keeps replaying in your head.

Your brother's girlfriend pulls you into a tight hug and whispers just the right amount of reassuring words into your ear before she wipes your tears away, gives your boyfriend an encouraging pat on the back and then goes to literally pick up the pieces you two had broken.

Heeseung doesn't say anything to you and for a moment you can't help but wonder if your presence is too much for him, only for your chest to fill with warmth when he reaches for your hand and then goes to help you with your coat.

The drive to your apartment is just as quiet, the silence making it feel like the past hour never happened and to your surprise, neither one of you has shed another tear after walking through the door.

You don't know why, yet the more you think about the expression on your brother's face as he asked for time, the more hope fills your chest. Sunghoon has always been easy to read for the both of you and you can tell that Heeseung seems to have similar thoughts, since a weird, unexpected calmness seems to linger in his body you can't quite put a name on.

Yet you're still pretty sure he's going to drop you off as the lack of verbal communication between the two of you does nothing to ease the anxious thoughts on your mind. You'd never blame your boyfriend for needing some time to himself away from you after being the reason for the roughest patch he had ever experienced with his closest friend.

As soon as Heeseung's car comes to a stop in front of your apartment building, you lift your head and quietly thank him, trying your best to shoot him a soft smile, only for your bottom lipp to give away how heartbroken you are, making you get out as quick as possible.

You don't hear your boyfriend's confused questions about your behavior, all you can focus on is to open the back of his car, take your suitcase and finally get into the comfort of your own four walls to break down the way you've been dying to do for the past hour.

Heeseung just watches the way you nervously fiddle with your luggage, his brows furrowed in confusion until he spots two tears finding their way down your cheeks and it's then that he realises what your brain has made you believe.

Within a moment Seung comes to stand next to you, easily hovering over your frame as he reaches for your suitcase and closes the trunk of his car, but doesn't let go of it just yet.

"Baby, look at me, please", he whispers softly, his words surprising you and with wide, teary eyes you look up at him and realise just how much you've missed him these past few days.

"Did you really think I was going to just drop you off? We haven't seen each other in three days and you came back to...this. I'd be a fucking loser if I let you sleep by yourself tonight."

You're not quite sure if it's the general exhaustion after these past few days, probably even weeks and months at this point, or if it's particularly because of tonight but without even missing a beat you throw yourself into the arms of your boyfriend and bury your face in his chest with a soft sob of relief.

Heeseung sighs, your little noises of pain and exhaustion sending chills down his body, tightening his chest as he pulls you closer to his body to make you feel as safe and protected as possible.

He knows you're blaming yourself for the current situation between him and your brother, when there's nobody to blame at all. Mistakes and wrong decisions were made, lack of communication and so many more factors which have played into tonight's event, but most importantly all of them were human things to do, something Heeseung has finally come to accept.

Usually he'd be blaming himself as well, yet this time his brain seems to go easy on him, even if his heart still hurts the more he thinks about the look of betrayal and disappointment on his best friend's face, he doesn't feel as devastated and lost as he had expected himself to.

For the first time in his life he's actually quite sure things are going to be okay, even if it might take some time.

None of this makes any of it easier, to say the least, but definitely more bearable.

By the time you finally walk into your own home, a wave of relief washes over you and without giving it another thought you shed yourself of your outerwear after turning on the heater. Heeseung carefully watches you, his eyes never once leaving your frame and you hate how that's all you need to feel your skin heating up, your brain already slut shaming you for making such a normal thing so sexual.

So, with a soft sigh you turn away and slowly walk into your bedroom, the sight finally giving you the comfort you've been craving for the past few days.

"Do you wanna talk about tonight?"

Heeseung's sudden question startles you and with furrowed brows you turn around and meet his soft gaze, loving the way his bambi eyes are still glossy and teary from earlier. In moments like these everything else becomes irrelevant, nothing but the love of your life matters and you can't help but feel genuinely proud of him when you remember all the things he had said to your brother.

"Only if you want to", you reply calmly and cock your head to the side with a gentle smile, the tension between the two of you sending chills iver your body and you're genuinely confused why your body would opt for such sensual reactions in response to emotions as heavy as the ones you're currently experiencing.

"I know I'm going to have a panic attack if I think about it too much so I think it's better if we just head to sleep, sweet girl", Heeseung whispers and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead his big hands gently caressing your arms before he takes your face into his hands and greedily lets his eyes roam your soft features.

"You're the most beautiful human being I've ever laid my eyes on", he suddenly says and leaves you absolutely speechless, the genuine honesty in the soft brown of his eyes easing the tension in your muscles.

"And I know it won't always be easy and all happy tears, but I promise I'm going to try my best to become the man you deserve", Heeseung just continues as he notices the way your lips part in surprise, something he's come to love ever since the first time he left you at a lack of words, "and no matter how many times I joke about it, I'm always completely serious when I talk about making you my wife one day. You're the light of my life and until the day you tell me to go, I'm going to give my everything to make you happy."

"Seungie...", your voice breaks, hot tears streaming down your cheeks as you notice the thick veil blurring his own vision, yet he doesn't let you speak just yet. A soft shake of his head stopping the words from rolling off your tongue.

"I'm bound to make mistakes and hurt your feelings, I just hope you know I'd never, ever do it intentionally and ask you to be understanding. Your heart is so pure, so soft and so gentle, I have yet to figure out how to handle it but again, not a day will go by where I won't do everything in my power to make you feel as loved and appreciated, adored and desired as you deserve."

And as his words fill every bit of your heart with the sweetness of comfort, warmth and the feeling of security, you simply can't hold yourself back anymore.

Before either one of you can say another word, you throw your arms around his neck and pull him as close to your body as possible, the lack of personal space exactly what you've been craving for the past two weeks.

Because despite handling Heeseung's physical distance and reluctance better than expected, you couldn't help but feel rejected, your brain punishing you for all the times you had dared to unintentionally tiptoe on the line of his personal comfort as he was trying his best to maintain his mental stability, so hearing him still be as in love and devoted to you as he was in the beginning definitely gives you the reassurance you've subconsciously been longing for.

You two still cuddled and held each other, a few kisses here and there right before Heeseung fell asleep in your arms after a long day, yet the sudden switch in tension between the two of you had you worried. Not because you couldn't live without it but because the fear of not being enough for him anymore had quickly managed to consume you.

After your little conversation about it all yesterday, you felt a lot lighter already, yet these words and the feeling of his body so close to yours was exactly what you needed.

"Thank you, Seungie", you whisper against the soft skin of his neck, embracing the strong hold of his arms around your body, "thank you so much."

You have no idea how long the two of you just stand there holding into each other, yet once you slowly pull away, you notice the sleepiness in his reddened eyes, his habit of blinking just a little too often giving away just how tired he is and that's when you realise it's probably been a good three nights since your boyfriend has had a proper night time sleep.

"How about you go and wash up, my love? I'll just give Jungwon a quick call and then get myself bed ready."

Heeseung just nods, yet looks at you for a little longer than necessary and as he studies your facial expressions, there seems to be this certain emotion lingering in your gentle gaze, he struggles to read and name. But before your boyfriend can even realise that it's the desire you're trying to hide, you give him a quick kiss on the cheek and pull away, leaving him in your bedroom as you basically throw yourself onto your balcony to get some of much needed air for your deprived lungs.

You feel like a psychopathic nymphomaniac for actually thinking about sex on a day like this, only an hour after one of the most heartbreaking things you all have experienced and that's why you're just going to wait until Heeseung's firmly asleep to take care of this stupid problem.

Part of your brains hoped that you two could use physical intimacy as a way to comfort each other but the longer you think about it, the heavier you want to cry because you simply can't believe your brain would do this to you.

With a soft sigh you dial your best friend's number, knowing the sound of his voice is going to do wonders to your messy brain and heavy heart and as soon as Jungwon picks up your call, you get comfortable on one of the little chairs on your balcony and just start crying.

Telling your best friend everything about your brother and his reaction feels relieving as it gives you the opportunity to reflect on your own feelings, rather than the need to focus on everyone else's the way you usually do and you physically can't get a single word out for a good minute, until you finally manage to catch your breath and just continue.

Jungwon doesn't say anything, just hums in approval every time you make a brief pause to gather your throughts to let you know he's actively listening, yet refusing to speak as he doesn't want you to hear the breaking of his own voice in response to your heartbreaking evening.

You don't realise how long you're talking to your best friend, your tears long dried down as you feel the coldness of the night finally overwhelm you as you thank Wonie for everything and promising to keep him updated before finally making your way back into the warmth of your apartment and straight into your bathroom.

As soon as you step into your bedroom, finally all washed up and ready to head to sleep, you're met with the sight of your boyfriend comfortably seated with his back against the headboard, glasses on his nose, strong torso exposed to your hungry eyes and just as you're about to lower your gaze just a little further, the sudden sound of his soft sob pulls you back into reality. You try your best to hide the shame and embarrassment as Heeseung does his best to do the same with his tears from you and with a soft pout on your lips you quickly get onto the other side of the bed and kneel right next to him, pulling your boyfriend into your arms and loving the way he finds instant comfort in your hold.

"I'm sorry", he whispers and wraps his arms around your waist, pushing face deeper into your neck to hide his embarrassment, "it kinda just hit me."

"It's okay, Baby, you can cry as much as you need to", you reply calmly and gently play with his slightly wet strands of hair, the smell of your bodywash and shampoo hitting your nose, making you smile softly, "what can I do to make you feel better hm? Do you want me to run you a bath and wash your back or just hold you? We could watch a movie and have some tea if you feel like it."

"Can you just sit in my lap for a little bit? I wanna hold you as close as possible", Heeseung whispers and lifts his head to look up at you, his cheeks and the tip of his pretty nose flushed, eyes red and glossy, a sight so beautiful you feel bad for thinking such thoughts in a moment this vulnerable but without hesitation you nod softly.

In no time you find yourself comfortably seated in his lap, his face yet again buried in your neck, strong arms firmly wrapped around your body and you love the way you can feel the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of your camisole.

You quickly lose track of time as you hold the love of your life in your arms and listen to his soft cries and sobs, knowing how many emotions and thoughts he's battling right now yet having absolutely no way to help with them.

With one of your hands gently caressing his back as the other plays woth his hair, you try your best to stay strong for the both of you, too physically tired and mentally exhausted to handle your own sadness anymore.

By the time a wave of sleepiness hits you, Heeseung's cries have slowly died down and from the way his hands are gently roaming your body you can tell he's about to lay on his back and finally give you both the rest you oh so desperately need.

Yet, what you don't expect is the sudden feeling of his hands finding a rather firm grip on your hips as a deep growl makes its way out of his sore throat.

"I feel like a fucking animal", he suddenly says and with your brows furrowed in confusion you pull away just enough to meet his gaze.

"Wha-", "I feel like a fucking animal because for some stupid reason my brain has decided to distract me with thoughts of your moans and the way you always look so pretty when you cum around my cock. I'm so sorry, Baby."

His words hit you like a fist straight in the face and none of that previous sleepiness is anywhere to be found.

With wide eyes and parted lips, you try your best to hide the way your body is currently drowning in your arousal in response to his boldness, not realising your lack of a verbal answer has your boyfriend on the edge.

"I'm sorry, princess, you don't deserve this", he whispers and basically forces himself to pull his hands away, yet you're faster and quickly reach for his wrists to keep them exactly where they are.

"No", you breathe and slowly start rocking your hips against his semi hard cock, your thin panties as well as his boxer briefs doing absolutely nothing as the heat from both of you meets each other through the fabric, "please, just keep going."

"But–", and this time you're the one to cut him off as you almost forcefully press your lips against his, capturing them in a hungry kiss, the one you've been daydreaming about for who knows how long at this point.

Heeseung doesn't hesitate as he kisses you back. Hunger, want and animalistic desire oozing from every single one of his touches as he grabs a fistful of your ass and grinds your hips harder against his own.

You can barely keep your moans and whimpers back as you try to keep up with him, the kiss quickly becoming rather messy and sloppy to the point where you slowly start losing yourself in the sweet taste of his saliva coating the muscle of your tongue and your whole mouth.

"That's my good girl", Heeseung grunts and kisses his way to your jaw and down your neck, sucking the soft skin into his mouth as he finally allows himself to indulge in your dweet noises and rhe feeling of your wet panties against his rock hard cock.

"I can't wait any longer, Seungie", you whimper and throw your head back as waves of pleasure rock through your body with every single touch against your sensitive clit.

"I promise I'll let you eat me out for as long as you want after this, just please", you beg softly, "let me sit on your cock first."

"F-Fuck." The profanity is drowned by the deep grunt that follows and Heeseung feels like he's actually about to cum in his boxers from your words alone.

With his brain clouded by pleasure and the deep urge to satisfy you, Heeseung just reaches for the drawer of your nightstand, only for you to stop him with glossy eyes and swollen lips from all the abuse of your own teeth.

"Just this once", your voice is a mere whisper, your request bold and dangerous, tiptoeing on the edge of a line you both promised not to cross, "I want you to fuck me raw just this once, please."

"Baby...", Heeseung has never ever wanted anything as bad as to just fuck you raw and stuff you to the brim with his cum but it's too risky, you're not on the pill and the possible consequences of a lust filled decision manage to hold him back.

"I'll just take a plan B", you quickly say and reach down between your bodies to finally pull his cock out from the little slip in his boxer briefs, stroking his length with skilled flicks of your wrist before pulling your own panties to the side and calmly grinding yourself against him.

Heeseung can feel every bit of responsibility and rational thinking leave his body as soon as he feels the wetness of your cunt against his bare cock, a feeling so delicious, so sweet and surreal, yet so dangerous it has him choke on his own spit.

"Or you could just pull out and cum in my mouth", you suddenly suggest and never in his life has he seen a sight so innocent yet lewd, your words building a complete contrast to the softness in your wide eyes and with his gaze firmly locked in yours, all he can do is nod.

"Lay back, Seungie", you say and place your hands flat against his soft chest, your fingers gently grazing the soft metal in his nipples and your cunt clenching in response to his breathy whimpers, "let me do the work, yeah? I just want you to enjoy yourself and forget."

And who on this sweet earth could ever reject an offer this sweet?

Without hesitation, Heeseung just does as he's told, his big hands finding home on your hips as he lifts his head just enough to eatch the way you're calmly lining the tip of his cock up with your wet entrance right before you start sinking down on his hard length in the slowest, most agonising pace ever.

Your high pitched moans meet his deep grunts in the thick air of your bedroom and with each inch, you feel your eyes rolling further into the back of your head; the lack of barrier between his cock and your tight cunt leaving you absolutely breathless.

You have no idea how long it actually takes you to take all of him, yet by the time you're comfortably seated on his cock, you can already taste your sweet relief on the tip of your tongue.

"Fuck, princess", Heeseung grunts and reaches for your pretty tits, kneading and groping the flesh before he pulls on your sensitive nipples and tries his best to move his hips, "fuck me. Go ahead, pretty girl, make me proud."

And that's the only thing you need to hear for your hips to start moving slowly. It doesn't take long until you're nothing but a whimpering mess, the feeling of being filled to the brim sending you into the best corners of your sweet pleasure and every time your eyes find their way back to your boyfriend's face, your cunt starts spasming around his cock.

But who could blame you when you've got a completely fucked out Lee Heeseung at your mercy; pretty lips swollen and parted, grunts and moans slowly turning into whimpers as he tries his best to handle the feeling of your spongy walls hugging his hock in just the right ways, bambi eyes constantly rolling back and yet filled with nothibg but love and adoration whenever he looks at you.

"I'm so close already, Baby", he whimpers and throws his head back into your pillow, his grip tightening on your hips as he meets your gentle thrusts with his own, chasing his high in the most breathtaking way possible and without missing a beat, you let your hand slide down your body to find your clit and rub harsh circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The urge to cum with him suddenly overwhelms you and as the coil in your lower stomach starts tightening more and more, you watch the way Heeseung's eyes widen in panic and before you can do anything, your boyfriend lifts you off of his cock and lets out a loud moan as he cums all over your as well as his own stomach.

You don't even realise that you stopped the movements of your fingers, the sudden emptiness leaving you absolutely speechless and Heeseung would be dammed if he left his precious girl in a state like that.

So with a soft hiss and a few words of praise, Heeseung moves you to rest against his cock before he slowly starts guiding your hips against his length, making sure to have his sensitive tip hit your pretty clit with every single movement.

You cum all over the length of his cum within just a minute, your sweet relief hitting you out of nowhere and drowning you in its waves.

With a soft whimper of his name you finally break down and bury your face in his hot neck, your whole body shaking from the intensity of your orgasm the way you've been craving it for longer than you'd ever admit.

"I love you so much, princess", Heeseung whispers against your temple, littering your cheeks and shoulders in soft kisses as his hands caress your back softly, "my first and only love."

After a much needed bath you find yourself firmly nestled in your boyfriend's strong arms, an embrace which has never failed to provide you with the comforting feelings of security and protection and as you both finally calm down from the overwhelming rollercoaster of emotions, Heeseung can't help but lose himself in his thoughts again. Yet this time they don't break but heal his heart because he falls asleep with you in his arms and the mental image of your future together, thoughts and wishes he'd forever protect with everything he has.

And as he slowly slips into the peaceful state of sleep, he knows everything is going to be okay as long as you're by his side.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: And it finally happened. Sunghoon finally knows. I really hope I could live up to your expectations with this ngl I'm SO nervous 😭 I actually dont know what to say exceot tysm for all the love and support. I can't wait to read your guys' thoughts and feelings about this chapter and am sending everyone so much love and kisses. reblogs and feedback is always appreciated!!!🥺💗🧸)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @thvhannie @enhaz1 @kpoprhia @abrazosolorcereza @deobitifull @mixtape-racha @certifiedmoa @jungwon-xo @hoonieluv @enhamysunshines @jaehoonii @pussyslayerhd @ineedsomezzz @neocockthotology @heerinnie @onionzzzs @hee-pster @3amstarlight @xxxxrvexxxx @primroselover @mimikittysblog @iea-tsand @lhspeachie @xiaoderrrr @viagumi @smg-valeria @kells5595 @heeseunghee7 @xrvrqs @ddazed-lhs @heebrry @fakeuwus @dammit-jjk @ivyannemarie @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @s00buwu

[wave2tyun]

killshot | ☆

pairing: taehyun x fem!reader

genre: spy!au, enemies to lovers, fake dating, slow burn, suggestive, a bit of fluff and angst

summary: your life seemed to have taken a turn for the worse the minute kang taehyun stepped foot into the spy agency you worked at. wanting to take on a challenge to prove yourself worthy of the top position, your plans were turned upside down with his addition to the mission. you didn’t think things could get any worse, until they stated one clear, mandatory condition: the two of you had to pretend you were a couple.

warnings: lots of swearing, alcohol consumption, the reader gets tipsy (twice), mentions of death, guns and bombs (there’s nothing explicit though), the presence of an annoying drunk man | let me know if i missed something!!

word count: 9.7k

a/n: this was just a silly little idea that i got during a car drive asdbfhj whenever i repost fics i always kind of get the urge to say "omg this was one of my favorite fics to write" - i think it's because i end up getting so attached to the little universes that i create and then look back on them fondly; with this one, i really really mean it when i say those words (maybe because it's also longer). when i first posted it i actually felt like i gave birth cause it got SO MUCH LONGER than i anticipated ASBHJDS

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

"no."

"hear me out-"

"i'm not hearing anybody out. i'm doing this alone- just like we intended from the start" you hissed.

"y/n, we went over this already" irene pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing "the enemy has changed their plan of action, so we need to change it too. it's not safe for you to go alone anymore"

"that i can understand. but him-" you pointed an accusatory finger to the man in front of you “why does he need to be involved in this? there have to be other suitable agents for this mission”

“trust me, darling, if i could do this alone, i would” he replied bitterly, rolling his eyes.

“listen you two- these orders came directly from the head office. they want you to work on this, not anybody else- and there’s nothing that i can do to change this.” irene crossed her arms. she was completely tired of the way you were both behaving- just like two kids continuously throwing sand in each other’s eyes.

“fine.” you gave in, biting your tongue and swallowing your pride. there was no use being stubborn if the head office was involved, the best thing you could do in this situation was to choose being the bigger person.

irene raised an eyebrow at taehyun, waiting for his response as well.

“fine-“ he repeated after you, throwing daggers towards your direction. you were glad to know the feeling of disgust was mutual.

“finally” irene exclaimed, letting out a big sigh “took you long enough. here’s the modified plan papers. remember- there’s no way i’m allowing you to back out anymore”

you took the small stack of papers from her hands, skimming through the text. gather the gadgets and weapons, bla bla bla, disarm the bomb hidden at the event, bla bla bla, protect france’s president, bla bla bla, disguise yourself as a couple- wait.

“are you fucking kidding me- am i reading this right?” you spat out, eyes almost popping out at the sight. you went over the passage again and again, hoping that you had simply misread it- but there it was, black ink on white paper, the word written clear as day: “couple”

irene massaged her temples with her hands “in order for this mission to be carried out with ease, we need you to act as a cou-“

“no” you both said in unison, cutting her off.

you side-eyed taehyun, somehow feeling offended that he also declined the proposal right away. you knew you had your reasons to not accept that condition- but why was he saying “no”?

kang fucking taehyun- his name alone felt like poison on your tongue.

but it wasn’t like your hatred towards him was unjustified- in fact, you couldn't remember if there was even one second- let alone one day- where him just breathing didn’t make you feel like plotting murder. one day, he just strutted into the agency, acting like he owned the place. he was quick to gain respect from his superiors, his charms alone making it easier for him to receive more complicated missions- and better equipment. you being mad was an understatement. why? just because he was a man, he had it all easy. he has been in the agency for just one year, and he has already surpassed you in ranks, all of the hard work you’ve been putting in for years going down the drain.

you’ve been relentlessly trying to regain your honorable place in the agency. kang taehyun was quick to catch on to your little act, and he wasn’t one to back off easily either- resulting in the two of you being at each other’s necks every second. you viewed this mission as what could have possibly been ‘your redemption arc’. the universe somehow always found a way to get him involved in your business. but this time, you weren’t gonna let him steal your spotlight- not again. you needed to find a way to secure the number one place in rankings like you used to, and you were willing to do whatever it took to feel that glory one more time, even if that meant cooperating with the kang taehyun.

“if you die, i’ll kill you” you hissed.

“big words coming from someone who stands on a chair to reach the top shelves” he fought back, unfazed by your threat. your mouth opened at this accusation, when did he even catch you doing that?

“you piece of-“

“enough” irene sighed, moving to stand between the two of you “you’re gonna bring back my migraines if you keep on acting like that. can’t you treat each other as normal people do? just this once- please? you’re only making this harder for yourselves”

you sighed, rubbing the nape of your neck. irene was a sweetheart, she didn’t deserve to be the victim of your petty fight “when do we have to start?”

her eyes seemed to light up a bit, relieved by your change in attitude “as soon as possible” she skimmed through her notes again “the earliest flight is in 3 days- how about it?”

“that’s okay for me” you said. you silently glanced over at taehyun, who rolled his eyes, uncrossing his arms “guess i’m in too”.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

5 hours.

that was the amount of time you had to endure sitting next to taehyun on the flight. you could handle this, you tried to tell yourself. you’ve been in much worse situations during some of your missions. in the end, it didn’t necessarily mean that the two of you had to interact during that time. you could just sleep the whole flight away and not have to exchange a word with taehyun once.

wrong.

kang taehyun just seemed to love seeing you suffer, in any way, shape or form. it had you seriously contemplating whether he was some kind of sadist. you thought you could at least go through check in and security without any unpleasant incidents happening, but you were wrong- so painfully wrong.

you arrived two hours early to the airport, wanting to get done with the whole process as fast as possible then hide from taehyun at the food court until it was time for you to board the plane. however, two minutes after you took your place in the check-in line, your peace was disrupted.

“you’re early- were you that eager to see me, sweetheart?”

your eye was twitching at the sound of the nickname. you didn’t even have to turn your head to the right to know who was next to you.

“why did it have to be you here at this hour?” you grumbled.

“crazy- it’s almost as if we’re on the same flight” he rolled his eyes “don’t even think about going to the back of the line- we have the same last name on the tickets so we shouldn’t go separately anyway”

you loosened your grip on the suitcase and bit your cheek, it was like he knew your exact thoughts at the moment. the whole thing was all too corny for you- why did the company have to change your name and give you new documents? just because you were ‘a couple’ didn’t mean that you had to be married as well.

security didn’t exactly go smooth either- as if the whole process wasn’t already stressful enough. you should have been suspicious the moment taehyun let you sit in front of him at the line. at that moment, you just brushed it off and thought nothing of it, but when the metal detector went off as you were walking through- that’s when it all clicked.

that little fucker slipped one of his rings in your pocket.

a string of unholy words was running wildly in your mind as the security patted you down to search for any suspicious items. you wished you could jump on him and wipe that grin off his face. he somehow felt the need to embarrass you even further once the ring had been found. he put on a charming smile as he rubbed the nape of his neck, looking up at the security lady “so sorry for my wife- she tends to be quite clumsy, i told her before to check well before walking away from me”

the lady melted down in an instant, letting out a bunch of ‘it’s okay’ before handing you back the ring. he felt the need to make such a scene and for what? to feed his ego? you didn’t bother to wait until he was through with security as well. you gathered your things from the tray as fast as you could, storming past all the other people to get further away from him.

you browsed all the shops (sometimes even hiding in the dressing rooms) until you couldn’t avoid taehyun any longer. you didn’t talk to him once you met up again, even though you knew that it didn’t affect him anyway. nonetheless, taehyun ensured that your day would have a cherry on top- by stealing the one and only window seat.

and you?

you made sure to spill your water on him during turbulence.

that seemed to be enough to make him stop bothering you throughout the flight. he slept away as you played sudoku on your phone, too paranoid to fall asleep yourself in case he would wake up with new ideas in mind.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

after making sure that your bag smacked taehyun’s head when you took it from the upper storage, you both went to retrieve your luggage then headed out to find a taxi and go to your accommodation.

valets, chandeliers, grand paintings adoring the walls, the hotel seemed quite fancy. you weren’t really used to this kind of treatment from your agency, it was the least they could do for all the headaches you were going to endure throughout the mission.

the receptionist handed you the small paper sleeve containing the key cards. you furrowed your brows as you opened it, peering inside. there were 2 cards in there, but for the exact same hotel room. you instantly expressed your confusion “why is there just one r-“ taehyun kicked your foot, continuing to smile at the receptionist as you bit your tongue to hold back a scream. “is there anything else i can help you with?” she inquired.

“i’m pretty sure that’s it, thank you” taehyun answered before you could open your mouth to speak. he took hold of your arm, flashing the receptionist another fake smile before dragging you along with him towards the elevator.

“don’t touch me” you broke free from his grip “what the hell was that about?”

taehyun pressed the floor number on the keypad “are you that fucking dense? he sighed exasperatedly “we’re a couple- remember? we need to act like one, so stop having these unnecessary slip-ups”

‘stupid cover’ you cursed in your mind the person who had been in charge for outlining the plans for your mission. out of all the possible lies they could have made you hold on to- this is what they went for. it was almost like they did this on purpose to annoy you.

ding.

you took hold of your suitcase again, following behind taehyun as you searched for your room “besides- the hotel isn’t scruffy this time, their budget seems to be pretty high for once. so, they might have booked us a suite, not just a single room” he continued, trudging the door open.

your feet were frozen, not moving an inch from the doorway “taehyun- this is not a fucking suite” you snarled, slowly turning your head in his direction.

“why are you talking as if it’s my fault?” taehyun snapped back. he entered the room, bumping his shoulders against yours as you refused to go further in.

“well if you hadn’t been so quick to silence me at the reception- maybe this wouldn’t have been a problem” you pushed your suitcase in, putting your hands on your hips.

“and risk blowing our cover? yeah- what a great plan that would have been” he huffed.

“there’s no way i’m sharing a bed with you” you hissed

“don’t worry- it’s not a pleasure for me either sweetheart. it’s either sleeping on the floor- or with me. your choice”

taehyun didn’t seem like he would ever consider giving up his spot on the bed- but neither did you. you weren’t going to settle for back pain as he snored away on the soft mattress.

so, you laid down on the bed, as far away as you could from taehyun. you were sitting so close to the edge that you were on the verge of falling off, but you couldn't even stand the mere thought of being in such close proximity to him. the thought of his arm touching yours made your skin crawl. 

yet, despite breathing in the same room as taehyun, you somehow managed to get what was probably the best sleep of your life. keeping your eyes closed just for one moment more, you held the blanket closer to you, enjoying the warmth it provided, snuggling your face deeper into the pillow beneath you. but the pillow wasn't as soft as you remembered when you put your head down to sleep last night. instead, it was hard, and somehow hot to the touch. confused, you brought a hand up and pressed down on it, slightly squeezing it, then removed it as if you had just gotten burnt when you were met with the feeling of bare skin on skin.

"if you wanted to touch me that badly you could have just asked, love" a raspy voice came from beneath you.

"what the fuck-" you shouted as you got up and finally opened your eyes. you squinted as you adjusted to the bright light coming from the sun.

kang taehyun was sitting right next to you, bare chest exposed and a playful smirk plastered on his face.

"how did we- when did you even take your shirt off?"

"are you always this loud in the morning?" he asked, ignoring your questions. his hair was a ruffled mess, slightly puffy face indicating that he hadn't been awake for that long either.

you still looked at him expectingly, waiting for him to answer. he huffed, rolling his eyes "you snuggled with your burning limbs close to me as you slept. i got overwhelmingly hot so i took off my shirt. there- simple as that"

"why didn't you just push me off or something" you asked. it wasn’t typical for him to act like this.

what taehyun said was indeed the truth. he couldn’t stand you- yes, but he wasn’t an asshole. he couldn’t find it in him to wake you up or pry you off him, as he didn’t want to wake up in the morning to you being groggy. therefore, he was left with only one option: enduring it.

pushing your question aside once more, taehyun got up from the bed, stretching as he made his way to the bathroom, he stopped right before getting past the door to speak "did you know you talk in your sleep? you seemed to enjoy it, i didn't want to ruin the fun for you." he snickered, disappearing into the other room.

you stood there with your jaw hanging, unable to form any kind of comeback to argue. was there even a way to recover from that? when you heard the shower running, you took a pillow from the bed, burying your face into it and silently screaming. you wanted to dig a hole for yourself at least 20 meters underground.

after regaining your composure, you got ready so that you and taehyun could get started on today’s task: gathering the necessary weapons and equipment. irene informed you about some namjoon guy they had a contract with. he apparently sold any kind of gear you would ever need for a mission: from smoke bombs to lethal poison- he had it all. you went to the outskirts of the city searching for a shabby cabin (not suspicious at all), the storage hidden away in an underground system there.

“are you sure this is the right place?” you asked taehyun, eyeing the old rusty door. the whole place just screamed ‘murder’, how exactly did your agency even come to find out about the guy? maybe you didn’t want to know.

“the coordinates match up with what irene sent us- so yeah, probably. try not to hold my hand if you’re so scared” he chuckled.

you ignored his childish remark, going past him to open the heavy door. the inside didn’t match up with the exterior, it was surprisingly warm and cozy. a man with purple hair and a black dress shirt was sitting on an armchair, book in hand. you assumed it was namjoon.

“oh- hello?” you didn’t exactly know how to approach him, you felt bad for barging in without even knocking.

his eyes glanced up from the book “ah” he got up “finally, i was worried irene didn’t send you the right location” he flashed you a dimpled smile. for a man who owned over one thousand weapons, you didn’t expect him to be this...cute?

taehyun bit his cheek “so you’re namjoon?”

“yes, and i already know who you two are. come on- follow me”

namjoon lead you towards an elevator, hidden away from curious eyes in a crowded closet. the ride down seemed almost endless, but that’s how it needed to be. if one single gunshot could be heard from the surface, his entire business could risk being destroyed.

“i’ve got a couple of things for you to try, as well as some accessories irene asked me to give you” namjoon put down a box on a table. it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary- laser pen, tracking devices, coat button cameras, the usual. the guns weren’t exactly essential for your mission, they were more of a safety precaution. either way, you still had to practice using them.

getting into the designated practice area, you and taehyun each had a target to hit. you needed at least 5 good shots in a row to be deemed skilled enough for the weapon. taehyun’s first try was perfect, meanwhile yours barely hit the target.

“seems like someone’s rusty”

“beginner’s luck” you mumbled.

giving it another go, you ended up with the same result. the exact thing happened the 3rd try as well. you frowned, it wasn’t usually like this for you, and taehyun’s cocky smirk only made your blood boil further.

“nervous?” he chuckled

“i’m just warming up- i need to get used to it” you got back into your shooting stance, putting your finger on the trigger.

“take your time, darling, hell’s happy to wait for you”

you missed again.

“can you just shut up for one fucking minute?” you huffed. you didn’t want to let taehyun get to you, but even when he didn’t open his mouth to speak you could still hear his voice in your mind, mocking you.

“i can give you something else if you want to-“ namjoon tried to help, not knowing he only angered you further.

“i need him out of sight- not another weapon” you quickly dismissed him “can i get a private practice room?”

“practicing in private won’t fix your lack of talent” you heard taehyun whisper.

if looks could kill, taehyun would be on the floor the second those words left his mouth “if i point this gun towards your direction i’ll make sure that it won’t be a miss” you fumed.

namjoon was clearly taken aback by the tension in the room. desperate to diffuse the situation, he kindly asked taehyun to look around the other areas as you practiced a few more rounds with him.

you felt bad for the guy, he was a victim to yet another one of your fights with taehyun. you kept the rest of your interactions with him short, wanting to get back to the hotel as soon as possible.

“look- i’ll buy you ice cream, will that make it better?” taehyun asked exasperatedly.

“i’m not a fucking child” you snarled. the only thing up until now that taehyun had managed to do successfully was ridiculing you- and you were fed up with it. did he think that some ice cream was going to erase all those embarrassing moments he had been putting you through?

“well what do you want me to do then?” he sighed.

“i don’t know- maybe stop acting like an asshole? like you’re better than me?”

taehyun stopped the car on the side of the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel harder “i’m not acting like an asshole” he turned his head to look at you.

“yes, you are- you did that the whole day and you are doing that right now” you said in utter disbelief. his snarky attitude was tipping you over.

“get out” he spoke firmly, breaking eye contact with you.

“what?”

taehyun didn’t know how much longer he could be with you in the car without losing his temper even more “i said get out” he repeated once again, closing his eyes “go on and find the way to the hotel yourself”

“fine” you scoffed. you grabbed your purse and slammed the car door as hard as you could once you got out of the vehicle. taehyun wasted no time getting back on the road. finally, he could breathe again.

“jerk” you screamed. what a great time to wear heels this was. you made your way to the side walk, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hands as you looked around, trying to recall any familiar surroundings. with every step you took, it felt like your foot was pressed into a hot piece of lego. you had been wearing those damn heels all day, and now the agonising pain was finally starting to kick in.

taehyun couldn’t help but constantly steal glances at you from the rearview mirror, watching as you struggled to walk without your feet wobbling. sighing, he waited until he could take a turn to go back and pick you up. maybe you weren’t the only one that acted like a kid.

getting back to the same spot he just left you at barely 2 minutes ago, taehyun stopped the car. yet you weren’t anywhere to be found. he got out to search the area better- nothing.

“shit” he mumbled under his breath.

taehyun couldn’t stay still as he waited for you to return. of course, he got to the hotel faster because of the car, but what was taking you so long to arrive? the thought of him ruining the mission because of a petty fight was tormenting his mind. he didn’t want to lose his job at the agency because of you. he kept on walking back and forth from the couch to the door, looking through the peephole for any sign of you coming down the hallway. and just as he was about to check again, for probably the 30th time that night, he heard knocking on the door. it was you- it had to be you. after all, the only other room key had remained with him, and there was no way someone else would disturb him at this ungodly hour.

taehyun cleared his voice, erasing any sign of worry on his face before opening the door, apology already on the tip of his tongue.

"y/n, i'm sorry-" taehyun spoke as soon as he saw you in the doorway, reaching his hand out to take your purse.

"fuck off" you spat out, slapping his hand away from you. you went straight to the bathroom and locked the door, not in the mood to hear any of his excuses. you stood with your back against the door, burying your face in your hands. you felt so tired and sick of having to deal with taehyun’s attitude. but you weren't gonna let him be the one to steal the spotlight from your mission- not again.

taehyun sighed heavily in front of the door, putting his hand down from knocking, choosing to simply let you be for a while. you had all the right to be mad, and he knew that.

you took a shower to cool off, refusing to look taehyun in the eyes, or even in his direction at all, as you got ready to go to sleep.

taehyun put his finger on the lamp's button, letting out those words that had been bugging him all night "just so you know- i did go back for you today, but i couldn't find you anymore. maybe that's gonna convince you that i really meant it when i said sorry" taehyun flicked off the light, huffing, pitch black darkness taking over the room.

you stayed silent, with your back turned to him, still too stubborn to accept his apology. 'he just wants to go to bed with a clean conscience' you tried to convince yourself. ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

you were grateful to have woken up with your own personal space, unlike your first night there. taehyun wasn’t even on his side of the bed, the sound of the water running indicating that he had already beat you to the bathroom. you turned over to the side, ready to enjoy those few minutes of peace.

“huh” you brought a hand to your face, feeling something on your forehead. it was a sticky note. you rubbed your eyes, trying to make sense of what was written on the small piece of paper.

‘there’s ice cream in the freezer’

“what...” you mumbled, how did ice cream have anything to do with- oh.

you fought back a chuckle. so, the great taehyun couldn’t find the strength to own up to his actions and say the words ‘sorry’ a second time. still, you accepted his silent apology, going over to the freezer to get your hands on the sweet treat. how could you ever say no to something free?

taehyun got out of the bathroom as you still nibbled on the ice cream sandwich, the steam and heat instantly invading the room. you looked up from the piece of food in your hand, almost dropping it once your eyes laid on him. taehyun sat in the middle of the room, chest and sculpted abs on full display with a few water droplets adoring his skin from his still dripping hair.

“what are you blushing for? it’s not the first time you’re seeing me like this” he smirked.

“idiot- it’s the heat. your shower transformed the room into a whole sauna” you meekly tried to defend yourself, not wanting to give him any satisfaction. you cursed your cheeks for reacting like this well before your mind could even comprehend the situation.

“oh- so you’re talking to me again. i take it you forgive me?” he leaned against the door.

“don’t get ahead of yourself kang taehyun” you scoffed “it’s gonna take more than just an ice cream for me to fully forgive you”

“i know, you did tell me yesterday that ‘you’re not a child’. just thought it might sweeten that sour attitude of yours” he huffed.

“whatever- let me get changed, then we’ll get in touch with irene” you said as you walked over to your suitcase to grab some clean clothes.

“i already talked to her. she said there’s nothing we have to do for the day. we just need to wait for the big event tomorrow.”

“huh- you talked to her? when?” you raised your eyebrows at him. you could swear you hadn’t heard a single sound all morning.

“yeah- while you were busy snoring” he chuckled.

you scoffed at his reply “as if you’re a saint while you’re sleeping” there he went again with his ridiculous accusations.

“well- unlike you, i haven’t received any complaints from others” he winked at you.

“really? then here’s your first one- you’re loud as hell” you slammed the bathroom door. that wink and his cocky grin were enough to bring back the annoyance he always seemed to provoke within you.

taehyun loudly knocked as you were busy brushing your teeth “how long are you gonna stay in there? i have something to ask”

you rolled your eyes, taking the toothbrush out of your mouth to reply “i’ll be out in 5 minutes” you shouted back. you didn’t know whether it was curiosity or fear taking over you from his words.

taehyun was still in front of the door when you opened it to get out.

“wanna take advantage of the activities here? it’s not like we’re paying for any of this- the agency is. plus- we have the day off anyway” taehyun shrugged his shoulders. his proposal didn’t sound bad at all. you could definitely use some sort of relaxation, your whole body was still aching from walking in heels yesterday.

you put your hands over your mouth, gasping exaggeratedly “finally, i can’t believe there’s good ideas coming out of your mouth” you were actually excited for once about one of taehyun’s suggestions. this was your chance to detach yourself from all the stress, the mission, and most importantly- him.

“when do i not have good ideas?” taehyun brought a hand to his chest. he sounded offended by your statement.

“i’m not going to answer that.” you replied shortly.

grabbing your bathrobes from the reception, you and taehyun headed towards the hotel’s spa facility. the area was filled with all sorts of natural plants and bamboo furniture, the meditation music being accompanied by the quiet sound from the mini artificial waterfall in the middle of it all. having such a packed schedule all the time, you never got any opportunities to spoil yourself in places like this. the anticipation and excitement were making your heart bubble up with joy, but your smile quickly dropped once you arrived in the massage room.

“taehyun, why didn’t you mention the hotel activities being couple activities” you hissed. standing in the doorway, you looked in terror at the swarm of lovey dovey pairs sitting on yoga mats in front of you.

“did you think i made the proposal knowing that?” he scoffed.

“well i can’t seem to understand how you overlooked such a major detail??”

“listen- the poster said couple massages. how the hell was i supposed to know that they’re making us do the work for each other? i just thought we’d both get a massage done at the same time”

“you must be the kangs, welcome” the host greeted you “come on, sit down. we were just getting started with a simple shoulder massage” she pointed to the last empty mat in the room, then motioned for you to begin.

taehyun’s eyelids fluttered shut as you awkwardly placed your hands on his shoulders, the material of the robe doing almost nothing to hide the feeling of the rock hard muscles underneath. you grimaced as you pressed your fingers down, trying to reminisce the movements you’d use while preparing pizza dough.

“you’re doing it wrong” he deadpanned, opening his eyes to make direct eye contact with you.

“shut the hell up”

you didn’t know what you were doing- yes. but were you going to admit that to taehyun? absolutely not. rolling your eyes, you continued to clumsily massage the tense muscles.

“i can’t feel a goddamn thing” he complained again.

“how about now?” you pinched his skin between your thumb and your index finger, using as much pressure as you could. taehyun’s face distorted in pain as he crumbled beneath you “for fuck’s sake-“ he grabbed your wrists, stopping you from provoking him even more suffering “how are you so bad at this?”

frustrated, you moved your hands away from his body “if you think you’re that great, why don’t you give it a shot?”

“i will give it a shot” he snarled.

the host approached the two of you just as taehyun placed his hands on you “what a lovely couple” she smiled. nudging taehyun, she whispered one more thing before walking away “remember, use your hands gently, like you’re touching the most delicate petal”

taehyun’s ears turned a bright shade of red at the sound of that. he bit his lip so hard trying not to laugh at her words, you were surprised he didn’t end up drawing blood.

“close your eyes, petal” he snickered.

you snorted at the nickname, doing as he said regardless. taehyun’s hands were surprisingly warm. he did his best mimicking the actions from the couples around you, his long slender fingers massaging your muscles with such care, you could feel all the built-up tension melting away.

“wait- this is kinda nice” you spoke quietly.

“told you so”

you hoped taehyun wouldn’t catch that, but of course, he did. you opened one eye, tempted to wipe that cocky smirk off his face. getting ahold of yourself, you chose not to, you never knew when taehyun would treat you this nicely again. you sighed, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling. this was the least he could do to pay you back for all the headaches he had caused you so far throughout the mission.

you did make a few other attempts to give taehyun a massage, but even with the host’s instructions, he was never satisfied. in the end, he gave up, preferring to do all the work himself instead of letting you touch him again. he probably left the spa room feeling more tense than when he had arrived, the only thing bringing him some sort of consolation being the free bottle of wine at the end of the lesson- which he opened as soon as you came back to your hotel room.

after getting changed, you sat down next to taehyun on the bed, noticing only one wine filled glass on the table “aren’t you gonna share that?”

“after all the pain i’ve went through today? don’t think so” he replied before taking a sip of the crimson beverage.

“don’t be a jerk” you snapped back “i tried my best”

taehyun sighed heavily, grabbing the other clean glass in the room to pour you some of the wine. you muttered a quick ‘thanks’ before taking it from his hands, downing the liquid almost immediately.

“what the fuck are you doing” he grabbed your wrist “take it easy- our mission is tomorrow, i don’t think you want to wake up with a headache” there was a hint of worry hidden in his stern voice.

“a bit more won’t hurt- i just want to sleep well tonight” you replied. your hand was already reaching for the bottle to pour another one. taehyun simply rolled his eyes, hoping that you’d stop after the seccond glass. yet- you repeated your actions, downing the glass and going for the bottle right after. this time, taehyun snatched it away from your hands and hid it behind the bed.

“don’t ruin the fun-“ you furrowed your brows “just give me the bottle”

you stood up, towering over taehyun as you extended your arm. he wasn’t expecting you to put up such a fight, but his reflexes were sharp- he took hold of your arm quickly, making you lose your balance and stumble over him. his hand came down to your waist to hold you as you landed in his lap, not allowing you to slip away anymore. you looked at him with wide eyes, your loud heartbeat drumming against his chest. “don’t make me repeat myself” he muttered.

“or what?” you provoked him further. your eyes shifted their focus on his lips, sitting centimeters apart from yours. you had never paid attention before to how soft they looked- so soft and rosy, your mind couldn’t help but wander off and think about how they would feel on yours. taehyun seemed to become nervous underneath your gaze, his breathing became ragged, hand gripping your waist slightly tighter. he licked his lips before moving his face closer to yours, yet still not enough to fully close the gap. your eyelids fluttered shut, and he smirked at your action, his thumb coming to graze your lower lip slowly.

“or you might just make me lose myself completely” he breathed out. his gaze was still fixated on your lips, only tempting him further to give in, to let go of everything that had been holding him back until now from accepting that it wasn’t hatred he felt upon seeing you, or even hearing your name. he had been convinced that you hating him meant that he was supposed to feel the same, but he couldn’t- and he could barely even fake it anymore. especially now, when you somehow managed to completely break down his guard in mere seconds. thinking this through, taehyun chose to back away. he didn’t have the confirmation whether it was your actual feelings leading your actions, or just the alcohol in your system.

he cleared his throat, removing his hands from your body and putting that usual cold façade back on “like i’ve said, our mission is tomorrow. you should probably go to bed” his eyes didn’t meet yours when you opened them to look at him again.

your gaze shifted to the floor, you were unable to hide the underlying disappointment in your voice “yeah- you’re right”. you hesitated a bit before finally separating yourself from him, the warmth of his body gone just as the excitement that was beginning to take over your heart. you put your head down on the pillow, the sound of more wine getting poured in a glass being heard as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ "your tie is lopsided, let me fix that" you walked over to taehyun. there was just one hour left until the event started. the atmosphere in the room was suffocating, to say the least.

taehyun scoffed upon hearing that "i can definitely do a better job than you" yet, he didn't make any movement to stop you from touching him or his clothes “everything is just a competition for you… isn’t it?” you said bitterly, your eyes were fixated on his chest, his tie in your hand. 

“isn’t it for you, too?” taehyun asked. he immediately regretted his question, the words seemed to roll off his tongue as an automatic response. he peered into your eyes, although he was hesitant to hear your answer. you paused for a moment before continuing, refusing to look up and meet his gaze "maybe i don't want it to be anymore"

you went back to the mirror, trying to look busy as you "fixed" your makeup, although you had already ensured it was perfect with each step you did.

taehyun didn't say anything to that. it wasn't the time he could let himself be swayed by his emotions. you were both at the peak of your mission, where high attention was demanded and no mistakes were allowed to be made. he cleared his throat before speaking, trying to change the conversation from the sensitive topic "you look good" "thanks" you looked down, playing a bit more with the lipstick in your hand before stuffing it in your purse "we should go" "yeah- we should" he repeated after you, grabbing the spare card for your hotel room.

the entire venue was filled with well-known people from the political field, as well as celebrities. the event had been long planned to celebrate the president’s birthday. however, he started to have a rising suspicion that someone was after him, wanting to backstab him so that they could steal his position, which is how you got into the play. your team was able to pinpoint the enemy’s plan of action due to their sloppy preparation. they talked freely around Élysée Palace about their intention, completely unaware of the mics hidden all around the building. they were going to infiltrate the office and place a bomb there, wiping out the president without putting themselves at much risk.

being nervous was an understatement. it’s been long since you’ve been assigned such an important mission- way too long. the fact that you didn’t know whether you were going to make direct contact with the enemy didn’t help either.

taehyun seemed to be glued to your side, not letting you go once. he held you by the waist the whole time you were walking around, searching for your table. his eyes were trained on you, not allowing the disgusting rich men in the room to think that they can lay a finger on you, not even for one second.

“why do you keep on holding me so close?” you wondered aloud.

“we need to act like a couple- did you forget that again?”

“that doesn’t mean i’m not allowed to walk on my own” you said trying to break yourself free yourself from his grip. but taehyun stopped you before you could fully do so, he grabbed your wrist, bringing your back flushed against his chest. he dipped down to whisper in your ear “sweetheart, let’s not make a scene now- shall we?” he twirled you around, swaying your body to the rhythm of the music to disguise your actions as natural.

“now- let’s discuss. when do you want to put our plan into action?” he leaned down to whisper once again. his voice sent shivers down your spine.

“not yet- we haven’t been here for long and leaving so early would raise suspicion” you muttered.

“then- how about a drink?” taehyun brought you closer, not breaking eye contact with you.

you nodded “a drink sounds good” just like the ‘massage’, there was no way you could turn down something you didn’t have to pay for yourself.

taehyun spun you around once more before heading off to the bar. you continued the search for your table, settling down on one of the chairs as you waited for him.

“what is a princess like you doing all alone?” a sleazy man approached you, reeking of sweat and alcohol. your senses were instantly on high alert, you were praying that taehyun wouldn’t take much longer to return.

“i’m not alone- i’m just waiting for someone” you tried to dismiss him, hoping that he would walk away and leave you alone. but a man’s confidence seems to skyrocket when they drink, so of course, he didn’t back down so easily.

“say, why won’t you have a drink with me while you wait?” his hand was in motion, inching closer to touch your shoulder. it abruptly stopped upon hearing a voice from behind him.

“i’m afraid i’ve already taken care of that, sir” taehyun settled down the drinks on the table before occupying the empty chair next to you. he noticed from far away how uncomfortable you looked and he rushed to get back to you, almost spilling the drinks in the process.

he placed one of his hands on your knee, trying to give the man a subtle hint that he should give up and leave you alone.

“i’m sure one more drink wouldn’t hurt? right, miss?” he continued.

taehyun clicked his tongue, increasingly annoyed by his presence “i’m pretty sure it would, though”

the man’s smile was wiped off his face as soon as taehyun said that, his hand gripped his bottle of beer tighter “why won’t you let her answer, hm?”

you were unsure what to do- you wanted to get rid of him, but you didn’t want to anger him further either. you weren’t supposed to draw any kind of attention towards yourselves, if this were to turn into a big argument, it could damage your mission badly. taehyun’s hand on your knee felt reassuring. at the same time, it made your heart skip a beat whenever he gave it a light squeeze.

“what if i search for you once i finish this first, would that be good?” you did your best fake smile, so that he wouldn’t see directly through your lie. somehow, that answer was good enough for him. he nodded, smiled, then walked away.

taehyun slumped into the chair, taking a sip of the cognac he ordered.

“thank you” you spoke softly “you came just at the right moment”

taehyun’s ears turned red at that “now maybe you understand why i wasn’t letting you go before” he played with the glass in his hand. you bit your lip and nodded, taking a sip of the drink yourself. taehyun had good taste.

you both settled for analysing your surroundings as you drank, making small remarks here and there about the people around you. however, once your glasses were empty, taehyun could already notice the same man approaching your table again. he got up abruptly, taking your wrist and tugging you along with him.

“hey- what’s gotten into you?” you asked. you couldn’t figure out the expression he had on his face, nor his actions. taehyun loudly knocked on the bathroom door. upon hearing no answer, he dragged you in, locking the door after him “weren’t you the one saying that we shouldn’t make a scene?”

“and what was i supposed to do? sit there and watch as he tried to touch you again?” he huffed.

“why are you acting like this? maybe i wouldn’t have minded having a drink with another man” you provoked him further. that wasn’t actually the case- the quick lie slipped past your lips in the heat of the moment, as you were curious to see where he was going to end up with this.

"oh really?" taehyun pressed his tongue against his cheek, crossing his arms. he took a step closer towards you, to which, at first, you chose not to react.

"yes, really."

you tried to sound confident as you talked, but taehyun took note of your pursed lips “you know, lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart." he took another step towards you then another- until you had no choice but to take a few steps back yourself, not stopping until your back hit the wall.

“you know what? i don’t get you-“ you snapped “and i’m tired of trying to figure you out” you pressed a finger to his chest, letting out all those pent-up frustrations that had been tormenting you for the past few days “you keep on giving me these mixed signals- your actions never seem to match your words. how do you even think i felt today? or after last night? do you even care about that?”

you chuckled drily as taehyun remained silent. “why won’t you just give me a clear answer?” your gaze dropped to the floor "if you had the guts, kang taehyun, you would have kissed me"

taehyun's eyes looked sharp, he inched closer to you, bringing your chin up with his hand so that he could look directly into your eyes "you think something is stopping me from doing that right now?" he tilted his head and smirked, slight amusement hidden in his voice.

"then do it" you said firmly, pushing him over the edge.

taehyun slipped his other hand on the small of your back, holding you close so that he could press his mouth on yours, hot and heavy. he wasted no time to lick your lips with his tongue, silently asking for permission to deepen the kiss. you opened your mouth for him, the feeling of his lips and tongue even more intoxicating than the alcohol that you had consumed earlier that night. he lifted one of your legs up, letting his fingers dance along the bare skin that was revealed once your dress slid up with the movement. your body felt hot all over, you hadn't even known how badly you were craving for his touch until you got to experience it. you clasped your hands behind his neck, then dragged them along his back, slightly scratching it with your nails. taehyun groaned at the feeling, hoisting your other leg up as well so that you could wrap them both around his waist. he moved on to your neck, biting at the skin in a slightly hidden area. it was just enough to remind that man and all those other people lurking after you tonight that you were only his. he carried you over to the sink, putting you on the edge of the counter there so that he could have better access to your neck.

there was knocking on the door, followed by the rattling of the doorknob.

"tae-"

taehyun put his index finger over your lips, shushing you as he covered you whole in kisses: your neck, your collarbones, your chest, all the way down to the valley of your breasts, the area exposed by the cleavage of your dress.

"they'll leave" he spoke against your skin.

the image of a ticking clock crossing your mind every now and then filled you with worry and pressure "we should leave too-" taehyun pressed his finger over your lips once more.

"tae-" you breathed out again "-the mission"

"just a bit more” he whispered “there's still time" he looked up at you, those big eyes of his, filled to the brim with desire, pleaded you to let him continue. you grabbed the collar of his shirt, connecting your lips with his again. you sighed in contentment, letting him take control over the kiss. soft gasps and wet lips, his warm mouth on your skin- you got lost into it all, not caring for one second whether your hair or your dress were turning into a mess.

you could barely bring yourself to stop, and when you did, it felt like your cheeks had been set on fire. you hid your face in the crook of taehyun’s neck, breathing heavily against his skin as your brain finally processed what had just happened between the two of you.

you kissed kang taehyun

no-

you made out- with kang taehyun

and you enjoyed it.

in fact, you enjoyed it so much you seriously contemplated ditching the event just to feel his lips on yours for a few moments more.

the rational part of you was stronger “come on- we have a mission to complete” you pressed a quick peck on taehyun’s lips. he smiled, taking his time to fix your appearance before holding your hand and reaching for the door.

“let’s do it” he breathed out.

you sneaked past the security guards and reached the hallway towards the office. you wished you could have collaborated with them, but there was no way you could have known whether the person betraying the president was one of them or not, and you didn’t feel like risking your cover.

your hand reached towards the doorknob, wanting to check whether the door was locked or not. taehyun spoke right before you touched it.

“don’t- it’s dangerous, the bomb could be on the door”

you slowly retracted your hand. you didn’t think this through, and quickly jumped into action. taehyun was right, and you had to find a way to test his theory right before making another attempt at getting in.

you used some of the gadgets irene bought for you, making a small hole inside the wall and pushing through an extendable stick with a camera to look inside.

bingo.

the bomb was placed flushed against the door. had taehyun not stopped you before, you would have both been dead in an instant.

“seems like we’ll have to find another way in” you muttered.

taehyun eyed the outside window “how are your wall climbing skills?”

“not bad at all” you offered to go first, it was probably your best shot for now.

the distance between this window and the one in the office wasn’t that long either, you were just hoping that there weren’t any curious eyes looking up at the building from the garden.

melting away the lock on the window, you succeeded to get in. taehyun followed right after you, jumping inside. the bomb didn’t have a timer on it, the wire connected to the doorknob was what would made it go off. you had to give this one to them, it was pretty smart- this way, they ensured that they had less chances of missing their target.

“any updates?” irene’s voice was heard from your ear piece.

“yeah- we’re in. the enemy’s plan isn’t so bad after all, they just organised it poorly”

“that’s great- but you need to hurry up. you don’t have much time until the guy checking the security cameras alerts the other guards”

“got it” you replied

“so no pressure at all” taehyun laughed as he searched for the necessary tools. the bomb wasn’t unlike anything else you’ve seen before. the only thing you needed to do was follow the procedure carefully, so as not to miss any steps.

taehyun took it upon himself to do it, even though you were both in just as much danger anyway. you helped him out as much as you could, reassuring him that he followed all the steps in the right order and giving him new tools whenever he needed to switch.

“shit-“ you could hear heavy footsteps going up the stairs “they’re onto us, you need to hurry”

“hang on- i’m almost done” taehyun tried his best to remain calm, he couldn’t have his hands trembling at this very moment.

“you either show yourselves, or we’ll have no choice but to barge in” a male voice shouted from behind the door. they were definitely not alone.

“2 more wires” he whispered.

you were growing impatient, but you bit your tongue trying to remain silent, taehyun had to remain concentrated.

“we’ll take your silence as an answer” the man shouted again before starting a countdown.

3, 2, 1-

the door was busted down from its shackles.

the guards remained silent as they were met with...an empty room?

you and taehyun barely managed to make it out on time, and you were now holding your breath as you clung onto the outside wall again. you entered the building through another window from the floor beneath you before they had a chance to inspect the area and potentially see you.

after making sure you were in a safe zone, you reached out to irene again: “we’re done here- we’ll send you that fucker’s fingerprints”

“excellent”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

taehyun called the reception as you were taking a cab back to the hotel. he requested 2 bottles of wine for you to drink as a form of celebration. you couldn’t wait to lie down and drink to your heart’s content.

so now- here you were, you sitting in taehyun’s lap as he tried his best not to laugh in your face at your drunken words and actions. it seemed like you couldn’t handle alcohol that well when you were exhausted.

“can you kiss me again?” you asked quietly, closing your eyes before you could even notice his reaction. taehyun was taken aback by your sudden proposal, but nevertheless, fondness took over his eyes in an instant. he cupped your cheeks, bringing your face closer to him until your noses were touching. then, he opted for pressing a soft kiss on the corner of your lips, to which you opened your eyes, cheeks burning at the small gesture. “god- you’re making me go crazy” he spoke softly against your lips. his hand took hold of your wrist, leaving a tender kiss on your pulse point “let’s get you to bed”

you shook your head, dipping your head down to bury your face in his chest as you hugged him tightly. silence filled up the room for a moment before you finally spoke again “maybe it was supposed to be like this from the beginning.” your voice was slightly muffled as you refused to move away from your spot. taehyun ran his hands through your hair “…like what?”

“i don’t know. maybe we were never supposed to hate each other" those words rolled off your tongue softly, your eyes getting heavier with each passing second.

taehyun tucked a few strands behind your ear. your words tugged at his heart, and it was like something clicked for the both of you as you voiced out your drunken thoughts. it was stupid-so stupid. all this time, you had both been too caught up in the high created by all the praises and achievements. you were taught to eliminate any kind of obstacle that came your way whenever you set a goal, you forgot to look at each other as just...humans. sure, the pride that bloomed in your chest whenever you successfully cleared yet another mission felt good, but has that ever felt as good as taehyun's touch? his lips on yours, rough hands enveloping yours as a silent sign of care and reassurance, arms circling your waist to keep you close, to keep you safe. you never paid much attention to human relationships, and perhaps that was the reason why, once you stepped foot into your empty apartment, once the cheers died down, you had never felt truly satisfied with your life.

hearing the sound of light snores coming from beneath him, taehyun looked down to find you already fast asleep in his lap. “cute” he chuckled, secretly taking out his phone for a pic, the corners of his mouth turning up at the thought of teasing you about it tomorrow. he slowly detangled your hand that was holding on to his shirt tightly, then lifted you up to carry you over to your side of the bed. he frowned upon noticing that you never had the chance to take off your dress. diverting his eyes as much as he could, taehyun took it off for you, blushing as he slid one of his shirts over your head. he didn't want to invade your privacy, he just wished you could rest comfortably after experiencing such a draining day.

“sleep well, y/n” taehyun pressed a kiss against your temple before getting underneath the covers himself. he sighed in contentment as he brought himself closer to you, your soft rhythmic breaths and warm body putting his own at ease.

taglist: @huekalover3000

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 5 - "You're the smartest person I know."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: Mensions of Blood, Injury and Violence

A/N: This is kind of a bad timeline kind of situation that plays into the Gamer Pal Prompt I wrote before but can still be read independently.

Danny gasped as he staggered along the alley wall, with no idea where he was. He leaned with his shoulder against the wall as his left hand pressed against the wound on his stomach that refused to stop bleeding. He was confused, dizzy and pretty sure his father had given him a concussion, so closing his eyes and just sleeping on the side of the street was out of the question.

Tucker had thrown him through a portal Wulf had opened and that portal had spit him out here in… he doesn't recognise anything. But he was pretty sure he wasn't in Amity anymore. His vision was blurry but he was pretty sure that there were skyscrapers or at least buildings way taller than he was used to.

"Fuck." Danny cursed as another wave of pain made his body shudder. If he could just transform than maybe these injuries wouldn't be as bad but next to the pain Danny could also feel electricity surging through his body thanks to whatever Vlad zapped him with that stopped his transformation.

He coughed, squinting his eyes at the red spots that splattered to the ground. Things had gone to shit and real quickly and for a moment Danny thought that maybe they should have listened to their Gaming friend. Listened to his words of caution and advice to find a way to leave or to have at least a couple more of back up plans if things go horribly wrong.

Well it all came back to bite Danny like usually, as he spat out another glob of blood. Maybe Tim hadn't been as paranoid as they had assumed.

"You okay there kid?"

Danny needed to blink a couple of times until the red and brown blob before him finally took the shape of a person. He blinked several times more until his brain also finally caught up with who he was seeing before him.

"You're Red Hood?" Danny somehow managed to say in between coughing again. Tim had told them about Gothams vigilantes and how he could contact them to get them to help with Amity. To get them into contact with the Justice League. They had thanked him but refused the help, citing the fact that even one overshadowed hero could spell even worse trouble than they already had.

Now he felt stupid having refused that kind of help.

"Hey there kid." Don't black out now. Your bleeding pretty heavily we should get you to a doctors and-"

"No hospitals." Danny cut the vigilante off, coughing once more. Even though Tim somehow had managed to get the Justice League started on the removal of the Anti-Ecto Acts they were not yet gone. He couldn't risk that yet.

But meeting Red Hood meant that Danny was in Gotham, which meant he could probably go directly to Tim for help. His Gaming Pal did say that he knew his cities vigilantes personally.

"Okay no hospitals then." Hood confirmed for him as the man reached out to Danny just as he lost his balance falling forward. The last thing Danny remembers was muttering something along the lines of "Tim… I need to find him."

The next thing Danny then became aware of was the soft beeping of a heart monitor and loud arguing not too far from him. He groaned audible and the arguing stopped instantly. A wight rested on his shoulder and Danny blinked through the brightness and blurreyness once more until he vaguely recognised the shape of a person he so far had only seen through video chats.

"Tim?"

"You absolute idiot." Was the response he got and yea that definitely was the voice he had heard so often during all the late night Doomed gaming sessions.

"That checks out. You are the smartest person I know." Danny chuckled lightly until a sharp pain made him gasp. "Shit, I will feel that for weeks."

"The smartest person you know is Sam. Between the four of us she has the best grades, remember? Besides that, do you have any idea what kind of panic you and Tuck send us through?"

Danny peaked at Tim and grimaced at the frustrated glare the other teen was sending him. "Tucker was the one throwing me through a portal."

"You're lucky you landed in Gotham." The other then muttered, shaking his head.

"Again. You are the smartest person I know. You would have figured out some way to track me? Like the time you hacked our phones and tuned in onto Desiree's ectosignature to find her. Works better than the Booomerang that keeps hitting my head."

"That's because that thing is only tuned on you."

"And you somehow got rid of the GIW and I still haven't figured out how you did that."

Danny watched how the other teen shrugged. There was a silence between them. Tim was texting on his phone, probably informing Sam and Tucker. Danny, meanwhile, for the first time took notice that he was in some sort of medical bay, also noting that whoever Tim had argued with had already left. If he could believe Red Hood's words, then even if this looked like a hospital room it was not one.

"Hey Tim?" Danny finally broke the silence and the other teen only hummed. "Is your offer to stay with you in Gotham and to go to school and college here still open? I think I am ready to leave Amity behind now."

Tim looked up from his phone at Danny and gave him a feral grin. "About damn time. I had all the papers ready for you for ages now. It's about time we finally make use of them."

Danny chuckled. "And you still don't believe me when I say, that you are the smartest person I know?"

"Anyone in my family can do at least that, you know? These papers are nothing special."

Danny only raised an eyebrow at the other before both teens started to laugh, with one laugh getting cut short by a groan of pain and the other by fussing over the other right after it.

[melrosing]

JAIME IN THE RIVERLANDS II: Bluffs, Bargaining and Baby Trebuchets - Why Jaime Can’t Win at Riverrun

[lol sorry i've not updated this since Dec 2022 but i feel kind of compelled to finish it and this part was actually mostly done in back in Jan last year. I just got distracted. anyway part one here]

Following ASOS where Jaime’s character development came thick and fast, Jaime of AFFC is stalling by comparison, looking for an outlet and lacking one. He hopes to improve the Kingsguard as its new Commander but it’s in a poor state, saddled with men like Boros Blount and Osmund Kettleblack who are sworn to serve it for life. Meanwhile, his every move is undermined by Cersei’s erratic rule as regent, or the strange counsel she has built around her. He is beside his son, but Tommen can’t know it, and his daily duties involve tedium more often than not. Jaime’s scope has been drastically reduced: there are no bears, there is only Pycelle, and meanwhile his relationship with Cersei is undergoing seismic change that leaves him emotionally adrift. 

Jaime is also growing increasingly conscious of the risk that Tywin’s death poses to his family: joining the funeral procession for his father’s return to the Rock, ‘dead’ rings in his ears as he attempts reconciliation between Kevan and Cersei (JAIME II, AFFC) - Tywin is truly gone, and nothing stands in his place. Indeed, whilst we see throughout ASOS and AFFC that Tywin had the respect of his siblings, Jaime and Cersei are viewed by Genna and Kevan as little more than squabbling children far out of their depth. Kevan even regards the twins as a direct threat to he and his family’s security and goes so far to say as much, rending the family deeper. Worse still, Jaime is unsure whether or not Cersei does represent a true threat to their uncle, leaving him to play the game half blind:

Ser Kevan was a Lannister of Casterly Rock. He could not believe that she would ever do him harm, but… I was wrong about Tyrion, why not about Cersei? When sons were killing fathers, what was there to stop a niece from ordering an uncle slain? [JAIME II, AFFC]

It’s clear at this point to both Jaime and the reader that House Lannister is beginning to cannibalise itself, with each link representing a threat to the other: even Genna and Kevan compete for safer seats for their families, with Kevan leaving the poisoned chalice of Riverrun for his sister and her children. Meanwhile, Cersei’s growing paranoia and ineptitude as queen is setting off alarm bells: “The crows will feast upon us all if you go on this way, sweet sister” (JAIME II, AFFC). House Lannister’s vulnerability is hugely apparent, and now, far from Tywin’s vision of a single unanimous collective, each branch of the family pulls in its own direction. So we see that part of Jaime’s role at this point in the story is to somehow reunite his family with the singular object of their security: the trouble is that the security of House Lannister runs directly counter to the security of all others.

It is here that Cersei sends Jaime into the Riverlands against his will, to finish their father’s work in quashing House Stark and House Tully. Jaime goes reluctantly, knowing the Riverlands have already been ravaged by his father’s men: “scarce a field remained unburnt, a town unsacked, a maiden undespoiled.” Cersei’s request that he finish the work of men like Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch “[leaves] a bitter taste in his mouth” (JAIME III, AFFC). Jaime is also mindful of his oaths to Catelyn Stark, i.e. that he will not take arms against Stark or Tully, and his own personal ambitions for betterment. But the dregs of the war aren’t going anywhere, and so begins Jaime’s attempt to balance his own personal ambitions with what his family needs to solidify their rule.

RETURNING TO THE RIVERLANDS

Jaime initially travels with little sense of direction. He hovers at Darry to see Lancel and settle the matter of Cersei’s infidelity. He returns to Harrenhal to restore order, and makes some attempts at a transformation into ‘Goldenhand the Just’: rescuing Pia, executing her rapist, punishing outlaws (be they of opposing camps or otherwise) and rehabilitating Ser Ilyn Payne. But as many have observed, these are small gestures - perhaps even misguided, in the case of the outlaws: Brienne’s chapters feature a sorrowful monologue on the plight of ‘broken men’, who have long suffered at the mercy of their high lords. This is Jaime attempting to do good within the scope he’s been afforded, but he is under no illusions that it is enough to transform his reputation, and it is certainly not enough to atone for his sins: 

"Wear [the golden hand], Jaime," urged Ser Kennos of Kayce. "Wave at the smallfolk and give them a tale to tell their children." "I think not." Jaime would not show the crowds a golden lie. Let them see the stump. Let them see the cripple. [JAIME III, AFFC]

“Men will name you Goldenhand from his day forth,” the armorer had assured him the first time he fitted it onto Jaime’s wrist. He was wrong. I shall be the Kingslayer till I die. [JAIME III, AFFC]

“He was not wrong," Ser Bonifer allowed, "but some sins are blacker than others, and fouler in the nostrils of the Seven." And you have no more nose than my little brother, or my own sins would have you choking on that pear. [JAIME III, AFFC]

After loitering long enough, Jaime finally continues his journey to Riverrun, where he finds the entire place at a standstill. The Freys have ruined negotiations by belying the bluff behind their threats, and now Riverrun will not fall without armed conflict. Jaime does not want armed conflict owing to the oath he swore to Catelyn that he would not take up arms against House Tully, but the danger to his house grows more pronounced: Lannisters and Freys can be found hanging in the woods, and Brynden Tully obstinately wants no peace with them. The contrast between the honourable Tullys and the impotent Freys is immediately made starkly apparent, and any reader would feel that Jaime is on the wrong side of this conflict. Yet even despite Jaime’s own obvious disregard for the Freys, we get to see the House Lannister he’s grown up with, and hopes to protect: the jovial Daven, the fond Genna, even the tragic Lancel. There is genuine affection amongst the extended tree of Lannisters, not easily dismissed for the sake of oaths.

Yet even so, Genna quickly notes Jaime is not the man to protect them: “Who will protect us now? [...] Tyrion is Tywin’s son, not you.” I’d argue that it is at this juncture, more than any other, that Jaime resolves to begin his performance as Tywin’s ‘true’ heir: he has entered this conflict lacking direction, and Genna has now provided him one that he has willfully ignored till now: House Lannister needs someone to protect them, and if not him, then who?

So begins the delicate balancing act between Jaime’s own ideals and oaths to Catelyn, alongside the dwindling security of House Lannister. 

ALLIES & ENEMIES

We frequently see Jaime struggle with the fact that he vastly prefers his enemies to his allies, even as the reader is encouraged to do the same. Jaime likes Jeyne Westerling, with her earnest devotion to Robb. He has admired Brynden Tully since he was a boy, and desperately hopes to win the man over himself (to no avail). He clearly prefers Tytos Blackwood to Jonos Bracken, despite (if not because of) Blackwood’s staunch support for House Tully, versus Bracken’s more malleable loyalties. Yet Jaime himself is encumbered by Freys of dubious loyalty and still more dubious character (if they are not altogether ineffectual), as well as lickspittles and violent rogues, such as the remainder of Gregor’s party he finds at Harrenhal. We see Jaime attempting to work with what he’s been given, but the disdain he feels towards his allies is always palpable - whilst his preference for his more honourable enemies is a recurring weakness.

Jaime’s ADWD chapter is an interesting exploration of both the strengths of Jaime’s character, and the ways in which he is ill-suited to his role in this conflict. He is instantly able to build some rapport with Tytos Blackwood, agreeing to privately manage humiliating dealings, and making allowances for the man where he can. He even goes so far as to allow Blackwood to choose his own hostage - Jonos Bracken advises Jaime that taking Tytos’ treasured daughter would give House Lannister the strongest hold over the family, but when Tytos emotionally protests, he allows the man to instead suggest a son he’s less fond of, and who would even enjoy the trip to the capital. The threat inherent in this exchange is so forgotten that when Hoster Blackwood emerges as though ready for summer camp, Jaime realises he has to remind the Blackwoods of who exactly they’re dealing with, else appear weak to a supporter who might easily turn: 

"I am not your friend and I am not your brother." That cleaned the grin off the boy's face. Jaime turned to Lord Tytos. "My lord, let there be no misunderstanding here. Lord Beric Dondarrion, Thoros of Myr, Sandor Clegane, Brynden Tully, this woman Stoneheart … all these are outlaws and rebels, enemies to the king and all his leal subjects. If I should learn that you or yours are hiding them, protecting them, or assisting them in any way, I will not hesitate to send you your son's head. I hope you understand that. Understand this as well: I am not Ryman Frey." [JAIME I, ADWD]

Here, Jaime directly counterposes himself with Ryman Frey: the man who almost lost Riverrun owing to his ineffectual bluffing. The reason being that Jaime and Ryman are dealing in the same currency: so far, Jaime has offered only threats that remain untested by his enemies, and Hos the hostage is only another of them. His role as Tywin’s heir is an elaborate performance, but Tywin’s reputation was earned through deed - Jaime so far relies only the memory of that. The second any one enemy does dare to test his resolve, the whole business could come crashing down - because this is a character who has yet to prove his resolve in the matter to either his enemies or himself, and is desperately avoiding doing so.

We see his lack of conviction again in subsequent conversations with his new hostage. Hoster reminds Jaime of his younger brother Tyrion, building his warmth towards the boy, and soon enough Jaime is asking him questions about the surrounding landscape and its history. At the end of the chapter, Jaime even shares a skin of wine with Hoster and his young squires (mostly hostages themselves) about a campfire, failing to enforce an emotional distance. The only instance where Jaime resumes his performance before Hoster is one where the pretence is palpable:

"My father had a saying too. Never wound a foe when you can kill him. Dead men don't claim vengeance." "Their sons do," said Hoster, apologetically. "Not if you kill the sons as well. Ask the Casterlys about that if you doubt me. Ask Lord and Lady Tarbeck, or the Reynes of Castamere. Ask the Prince of Dragonstone." For an instant, the deep red clouds that crowned the western hills reminded him of Rhaegar's children, all wrapped up in crimson cloaks. "Is that why you killed all the Starks?" "Not all," said Jaime. "Lord Eddard's daughters live. One has just been wed. The other …" Brienne, where are you? Have you found her? "… if the gods are good, she'll forget she was a Stark. She'll wed some burly blacksmith or fat-faced innkeep, fill his house with children, and never need to fear that some knight might come along to smash their heads against a wall." [JAIME I, ADWD]

Here, Hoster inadvertently tests Jaime’s resolve in the Lannister cause, and Jaime parrots obligingly, invoking his father’s darkest deeds as a reminder of what House Lannister is capable of. As Tywin’s heir, Jaime, is aware that he owes his audience a performance.

Yet what is coming out of Jaime’s mouth runs laughably counter to his own feelings and actions. He does not agree with his father’s methodry: the memory of Rhaenys’ and Aegon’s bloody bodies is clearly traumatic, and something Jaime has repeatedly wished he had prevented. And he has of course sent Brienne to rescue Sansa; in doing so, he may well have sown the seeds of the next Stark uprising himself, a consequence that could directly threaten his own family. This goes to prove how complex and contradictory Jaime’s objectives have become. He is attempting to preserve the security of both the Starks and the Lannisters, whilst struggling to avoid handing either side victory over the other. 

Jaime cannot make that struggle apparent to his audience, however, and so he says the words for Hoster: it is important Hoster believes them - that everyone does - yet once again, words are all Jaime has offered.

HALF MEASURES

Jaime’s sole ADWD chapter offers the best framework to unpack one of the most discussed episodes of Jaime’s Riverlands arc, and that is: Jaime’s threat to fling a baby over a castle wall.

"You've seen our numbers, Edmure. You've seen the ladders, the towers, the trebuchets, the rams. If I speak the command, my coz will bridge your moat and break your gate. Hundreds will die, most of them your own. Your former bannermen will make up the first wave of attackers, so you'll start your day by killing the fathers and brothers of men who died for you at the Twins. The second wave will be Freys, I have no lack of those. My westermen will follow when your archers are short of arrows and your knights so weary they can hardly lift their blades. When the castle falls, all those inside will be put to the sword. Your herds will be butchered, your godswood will be felled, your keeps and towers will burn. I'll pull your walls down, and divert the Tumblestone over the ruins. By the time I'm done no man will ever know that a castle once stood here." Jaime got to his feet. "Your wife may whelp before that. You'll want your child, I expect. I'll send him to you when he's born. With a trebuchet." [JAIME VI, AFFC]

As already mentioned, bluffs have been Jaime’s sole currency against the Tullys so far. The trouble is that he has entered an arena where bluffs have already been used to ill effect: the Freys have practically numbed Brynden Tully and his garrison to Edmure’s death, by threatening to do kill the man daily and failing follow through: this has led Brynden to frame his retaliation under the supposition that his nephew is as good as dead already. The best thing Jaime could do to assert his status over the Freys and dominance over the Tullys is demonstrate that he is a man of action, and will kill Edmure - but the action required is precisely that which he is not willing to take.

So Jaime enters this conflict with a bluff of his own, this time pointed at both the Freys and Edmure, as it’s necessary for both parties to believe he means what he says. Having covertly directed Ser Ilyn Payne to bluff, Jaime fools even the reader for a moment into believing that he meant to have Edmure’s head off:

The ferry had just started across with Walder Rivers and Edwyn Frey when Jaime and his men arrived at the river. As they awaited its return, Jaime told them what he wanted. Ser Ilyn spat into the river. [...] The sight of Ser Ilyn widened [Edmure’s] eyes. "Better a sword than a rope. Do it, Payne." "Ser Ilyn," said Jaime. "You heard Lord Tully. Do it." [...] "No! Stop. NO!" Edwyn Frey came panting into view. [JAIME VI, AFFC]

It’s here apparent that Ilyn Payne has been instructed to sever the rope suspending Edmure, making it seem to Edmure and onlookers that he means for Ilyn to behead the man. Jaime knows that Edwyn Frey will intervene before this can take place, but Edmure, who already bought into Jaime’s Kingslayer persona, has now had it reified by Jaime’s apparent resolve to behead him there and then. This lays the foundations for Jaime’s subsequent negotiations with Edmure: whilst treating with Brynden Tully, a man with nothing to lose, was a worthless pursuit… convincing Edmure, with everything to lose, holds more promise, and Jaime has now primed him to accept the carrot and fear the invisible stick.

Many readers do not regard Jaime’s villainous monologue to Edmure as any kind of bluff, but rather a promise that demonstrates that even if he isn’t Tywin’s ‘true’ heir, he’s capable of the same cruelties. However, we’ve now established that bluffs have become the currency at Riverrun, and are an especially vital currency to Jaime, a man who is determined to take no decisive action for the sake of his oath. His sole objective is to get Edmure to surrender peacefully, and violent words are his oddly pacifist method. 

It is also worth observing the improvised nature of the threat. Jaime mentions trebuchets specifically because they are trademark of Tywin’s from his feuds with the Reynes and the Tarbecks - as is drowning castles so that no-one would know they ever stood. The whole threat is heavy on Tywinian rhetoric, promising violent extremes that are atypical of Jaime’s own approach in war - but of course, they go the extra mile in pushing Edmure over the edge. Edmure knows what the Lannisters are capable of, and that is enough to frighten him into acquiescence before he begins to wonder what Jaime himself is capable of. 

Following Edmure’s surrender, Jaime self-consciously notes to himself his cynical invocation of Tywin’s trademarks, humorlessly marvelling at what came out of his mouth:

‘With a trebuchet,’ Jaime thought. If his aunt had been there, would she still say Tyrion was Tywin’s son? [JAIME VI, AFFC]

And of course, we see again here what has been on Jaime’s mind the whole time. Genna has told him she doesn’t believe he can protect their family, because he is no second coming of Tywin Lannister. Jaime is desperate to prove otherwise, whilst simultaneously desperate not to - and so, in thinking to himself that he has proved Genna wrong, Jaime has ironically proved her right: he is not willing to take decisive action, offering only words to suggest he could. 

Finally, there is a telling passage that precedes Jaime’s threat, suggesting the extent to which just saying the words pains Jaime:

Must you make me say the words? Pia was standing by the flap of the tent with her arms full of clothes. His squires were listening as well, and the singer. Let them hear, Jaime thought. Let the world hear. It makes no matter. He forced himself to smile. [JAIME VI, AFFC]

Jaime has built rapport with Pia and his squires over the course of AFFC - he gets to know them as people, they get to know him, and Jaime is a different person for them than he has been in the minds of those back at King’s Landing - he is a saviour to Pia, and a mentor for his squires. They are at the inception of the man Jaime wants to become for the rest of Westeros - someone honourable, and worthy of their respect. 

However, Tywin Lannister was not such a man - he was a man to be feared, and to sustain the Lannister regime, his heir must be feared as well. Jaime asks himself, ‘Must [Edmure] make me say the words?’, belying the fact that he had hoped to leave the threat implicit, offering Edmure a hand to his feet without having to show him the back of it. He is conscious of Pia and his squires listening, and how these words will impact their opinion of him; how the words will get out of the tent, and impact everyone’s opinion of him. 

But Jaime resolves: “Let them hear. Let the world hear. It makes no matter.” It’s apparent that it does matter to Jaime; he does not want to be a man feared and despised. Nonetheless, there is a futility in these lines. He lost the respect of Westeros long ago, and will not regain it in acting as Tywin’s heir. ‘Goldenhand the Just’ is a fantasy, and revealing his true motives to the world would be dangerous. He has to maintain his performance as Tywin’s heir for the sake of his family, and if that’s all the world will ever know of him… here, Jaime is telling himself to suck it up. “He forced himself to smile.”

The threat serves its purpose in the short-term, however. As much as Edmure hates Jaime for the words, it’s likely he requires them before he can sign Riverrun away to the Lannisters. Edmure needs to know the price of the carrot, cannot take it without asking. The price tells Edmure he’s making the right decision for everyone, albeit a bitter, humiliating one that reeks of injustice. Yet to refuse the carrot would be to surrender his family and people to something worse than injustice: in short Edmure needs to believe he’s saving his family from something. Jaime gives him that. 

THE PEACE

Of course, the greatest trouble for the Lannisters is that Jaime’s measures will not maintain the peace in his absence. Jaime did not take up arms against the Tullys, and so Brynden has escaped. In all likelihood, Edmure and his pregnant wife will shortly do the same - they travel with Jeyne Westerling to Casterly Rock, a character GRRM has told us will feature in TWOW’s prologue. It seems a foregone conclusion that that prologue will see an interruption to the hostages’ journey to the Rock, perhaps one orchestrated by Brynden Tully. 

It hardly helps that Jaime has even released a number of Tully men after having them swear an oath after the fashion of his own to Cat: 

Lady Genna suggested that a few of the men might be put to the question. He refused. "I gave Edmure my word that if he yielded, the garrison could leave unharmed." "That was chivalrous of you," his aunt said, "but it's strength that's needed here, not chivalry." [...] The Tully garrison departed the next morning, stripped of all their arms and armour. Each man was allowed three days' food and the clothing on his back, after he swore a solemn oath never to take up arms against Lord Emmon or House Lannister. "If you're fortunate, one man in ten may keep that vow," Lady Genna said. [JAIME VII, AFFC]

As we see, Genna does not regard Jaime’s measures as stringent enough for their ends, and she may well be right - the Lannisters’ pit of violence has grown too deep for the family to sustain themselves through pacifism now. But ultimately, these chapters serve to show that Jaime is not willing to consider the alternative: whatever method his family requires to survive, he is demonstrably not the character to implement it.

Needless to say, it seems pointless to argue that there aren’t clear ‘good guys’ and ‘bad guys’ in the Riverlands conflict - because even if there were, Jaime’s desire to protect his family is a sympathetic one. His attempts to do this solely through rhetoric are understandable, even laudable. And the fact that he has ultimately failed has a level of tragedy to it: we root for the Tullys and their return to Riverrun, and the downfall of the Lannister regime, but there is still a human cost associated. 

The coming of Red Wedding 2.0 is another foregone conclusion, but from the groundwork laid in AFFC and ADWD, it seems clear that GRRM will not intend it as a triumphant event: it was gruesome and cruel the first time, with many innocent lives lost in the crossfire - it can only be so different the second. 

As readers, we want Jaime to move beyond the Lannister cause to higher ideals, and in ADWD he has. But GRRM does not intend that this should be an easy path to take. Jaime’s loved ones remain embroiled in this conflict, and fighting for or favouring the other side has implications for all of them. Abandoning the Lannister cause is necessarily difficult, and there will be consequences for doing so.

NEXT PART: A Reckoning in the Riverlands!!! this won't be quick but i hope it won't be a fucking year

[ccbb2222]

I Can Fix That — Bradley Bradshaw x Reader One Shot

It's been awhile...hasn't it? Summary: Bradley has a new neighbor, and he's more than willing to come to her rescue on more than one occasion.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff Also....yes the title is a reference to Holes :)

The first time Bradley Bradshaw comes to your rescue is on moving day.

The heat was unforgiving, your UHaul was filled to the brim, and you were beginning to doubt that you could handle moving all on your own. With an aching back and a scowl, you begin to pull on the side of the loveseat that you had somehow managed to lug into the UHaul just hours before. Panic struck your eyes as you realized it was about to topple over directly on top of you. "Woah, woah, woah," You hear a gruff voice say as a muscular arm makes its way into you peripheral vision. The love seat levels out, and you turn your head to thank your hero.

Deep, honey colored brown eyes, soft and warm distract you for a moment. "Thank you," You say, voice soft, as you realize just how close the handsome stranger is standing to you.

A deep chuckle makes its way out of his mouth as he smiles, "No worries. No one should die by the hands of a sofa." Over the course of the next hour, Bradley, as you've come to learn his name, helps you unpack your UHaul. You try not to get distracted by his gentle coaching, "Just a bit to the left, you got it. Nice, just a bit further." Your mind wanders to thoughts of Bradley wrapped in your sheets, instructing you this way and that. Your cheeks warm, and you're grateful of the excuse of manual labor as the cause.

Sweat drips from both of your bodies in the San Diego heat as you stand back with your hands on your hips. Bradley expertly pulls the sliding door down on the back of the rental truck, and you admire his back muscles as they ripple against the his shirt.

"I cannot thank you enough," You say, daring a glance at him. His biceps glisten under his black t-shirt, and you're momentarily entranced by him.

"Don't mention it," He says turning to face you with a ruffled brow, "This is a lot for one person to handle. Why didn't anyone offer to help you?"

Your smile falls slightly as you remember the cause for your move. Your break up. It was unexpected, to say the least. You walked in on your boyfriend of four years with his "work friend," tangled in the sheets of your four post bed. The bed you had picked out together at a flea market, and the one you left behind despite your love for the aesthetic. It was ruined now.

"Let's just say I was in a rush to move," You supply vaguely, and Bradley nods his head, unbothered.

"Well, if you need anything, just come find me, I'm in 24B."

"Thank you Bradley," you say, and he smiles softly, raising his hand for a wave, and heading back into the building.

_____ The second time Bradley comes to your rescue is after you forget your keys to the main apartment building. Why had you decided to take your trash out in a torrential downpour? You scowl, picturing vividly your keys hanging on the key rack. Inside your unit. Leaving you stranded and your clothes seeping through.

You try to buzz your neighbors, truly anyone, to let you in. But following a notice from the building warning against letting in non-residents, you weren't surprised when your buzzes went unanswered.

"Fuck," You say, trying to press your self to the side of the building, the small overhang not providing much relief from the wind and rain. Your white t-shirt was fully soaked through, and there was a 99% chance you resembled a drowned cat.

As if your luck couldn't get any worse, you see a familiar Bronco pull into the parking lot, and you shut your eyes in defeat. Of course your hot neighbor had to once again come to your rescue.

You knees nearly buckle as you see him, dressed in what looks like a flight suit making his way to you, a slight jog in his step as he dodges raindrops.

"Locked out?" He smiles, fishing quickly for his keys.

"Nope, just enjoying the storm," You say with a playful sarcasm.

He chuckles and unlocks the door, motioning for you to go in before him.

"Thank you," You turn to him while collecting your sopping wet hair over one shoulder and quickly making your way into the dry lobby. "Hey," You say, taking in his full appearance, "I didn't realize you were in the service. Guess that explains why you're so helpful all the time." Bradley smiles, "Yes ma'am," God, that sent a shock straight to your core, "Naval aviator at your service." Now that...made him even hotter.

"Very impressive," You nod your head approvingly, "Although, it's nothing compared to a work-from-home graphic designer. I've had life or death moments with Photoshop like you wouldn't believe." Were you...flirting? And was he...kinda into it? "Oh," he clutches at his chest, "the agony, I'm sure." The two of you walk towards the elevator and he once again motions for you to step in first.

"Are you also locked out of your apartment?" He asks, scratching at his neck, and you try not to get distracted by his bicep, "You're welcome to come hangout while you wait for a locksmith." "Luckily I left my door unlocked," You say before you can even catch the words coming out of your mouth.

He nods, and looks down.

Fuck. You had an in. You could've been in his space, with him and you blew it. "But thank you for the —" the elevator doors open quickly and you realize you're on your floor, "offer Bradley. I appreciate it!" He smiles with a nod, and you exit the elevator, turning to see his eyes once more and his lips quirk up in a smile as the doors close.

______

The third time Bradley Bradshaw comes to your rescue is when your oven is, quite literally, on fire. You intended on baking Bradley some thank you brownies (and okay, it was also a ploy to see him again), but it turned into a complete disaster. Somehow you didn't notice the crack at the bottom of your glass baking dish, and brownie batter dripped onto the bottom of the oven, causing smoke and eventually flames.

"Jesus Christ!" You let out an exasperated cry as your fire alarm starts buzzing, smoke starts to fill your apartment, and you throw open your door to find the nearest fire extinguisher.

You're stunned to see an equally surprised looking Bradley outside your door.

"What are you doing here?" You say, not impolitely, but given your frazzled state, you instantly feel paranoid about your outburst. "I was coming by to see if you happened to have any eggs to spare, but I can see you have bigger issues to deal with," He smirks at you and pushes past you to assess the damage. Smoke is quickly filling your small kitchen and you cough as you just point mutely to the source.

Bradley reaches up to disable the fire alarm, and turns the oven off before asking, "Do you have any baking soda?" You quickly throw open the fridge and hand it to him. He calmly opens the oven, dumps the baking soda on the flames, and you watch in awe as they begin to simmer.

"What — how? Baking soda?" You stammer, words failing you completely.

He chuckles, "My mom was a terrible cook. I learned how to put out an oven fire at a young age. Baking soda kills the oxygen, and the fire with it." You laugh nodding, "Well, that's good to know. Those were...supposed to be for you." You admit, pointing to the sad-looking, burned brownies.

"For me?" He smiles softly, and opens your apartment window to let out the smoke.

"Yeah well," You say, fanning out the smoke with a dish towel, "You came to my rescue more than once over the past few weeks, and now I guess I owe you more than brownies." You motion for him to join you in your smoke-free living room and he follows obediently. "How about dinner?" He says, a smile once again on his face as he leaned his beautiful body against the door way.

You blush instantly. Dinner? Your heart rate races as you return a shy smile. "Dinner sounds nice."

He lets out a chuckle, "For what it's worth, I'd put out weekly oven fires if it meant I could make you blush like that." "Stop it," You say, grabbing at your flaming cheeks. "Oh, did still need those eggs?" You turn to go back into the kitchen and recover from your embarrassment. Bradley grabs your arm softly and turns you to face him, "I never needed eggs. Just needed an excuse to visit my favorite neighbor." __________________________________________________

IM ALIVE.

Helpful neighbor Bradley just hits different.