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kashimos-hajime · 4 years ago

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the girl in purple (1/8) | r.b.

summary: In his mind, you’re wearing the white blouse and long purple skirt again, long riding boots covering dark pants, innocent smile on your face as you wait for him in the noon sunlight. Or, four years ago, Bertholdt asked for a favour and you said yes.

WARNINGS: swearing, ass jokes, flashbacks and flashforwards, mostly fluff and banter, pining and angst at the end, bertholdt is our soft best friend <3 pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 5.0k

a/n: pt 1 of 8 of a birthday present for the legend, the icon, the bad bitch herself, ISABEL!!@!@!@ @luciilferss ALSO, song not mine! it’s the sea shanty called wellerman.

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

You sigh, wiping the back of your hand before grabbing the next hay bale that needed to be lifted to the loft. Your back aching, you grit your teeth as you lug it towards the ladder. It’s the last one and after a sweaty afternoon, you just want to get into bed. Hopefully Annie did end up getting you supper—you had to work through it just so Shadis didn’t get your ass up tomorrow to finish the job.

“Here, let me help.”

“Oh, thank you,” you reply, glancing to see your savior and a warmth shoots through your body when you realize it’s Bertholdt. “You know if Shadis catches you helping me, it’s going to be hell to pay, right?” The boy smiles, shrugging, and you can’t help your own grin as he gestures for you to climb up. Skirting up the ladder, you turn around to take the hay bale and pushing it towards the corner before jumping down and dusting off your hands. Stable clean-up is never fun, but with autumn right around the corner, they all want to get a head start before the chill sets in.

“I wanted to ask you a favour.”

“I knew there had to be a reason you were in here,” you tease. “Shoot.”

“Well, we have visiting privileges next weekend,” Bertholdt continues as you walk around the stables, picking up tools as you make your way towards where the broom is leaning against the wall. The tall boy ambles after you and you shoot him an amused look, curiosity pricking at your fingers.

Half-way through their training in the corps, and Bertholdt still manages to keep you guessing. You don’t know what it is about him, but your friend’s always been the quiet one. It’s part of why you like being around him, but you just wish his friend liked you. Annie seems more than fine with you.

Reiner, on the other hand, can barely even look at you. It’s a real downer.

“I was just wondering…”

“You should ask Annie,” you cut off before he can finish, picking up the broom to begin sweeping the stray hay into a neat pile. Bertholdt’s spine goes ramrod straight and his cheeks redden so intensely you can’t help but laugh. “I’m pretty sure she would say yes. You guys are friends, right?”

“Yes, but we’re—we’re not—why would I ask Annie, specifically?” he stammers. The horses neigh as you walk past, their necks stretching out for treats but you ignore them, heading for the entrance. “She could go with a bunch of other people.”

“Yeah, but she always goes with me.” Glancing at Bertholdt, your eyes narrow when he smacks his forehead, covering his flustered expression miserably. Poking him in the gut with the handle of your broom, you continue, “And she only likes a few people here. You’re one of them, Bertl.”

“Well, if you think so. I mean, you’re her dorm mate, not me, so… argh!” he groans as you walk past him, sweeping. “You’re not helping!”

“Helping with what?” you ask innocently, not paying him a second look. You hear him let out a sigh as you brush hay to the back of the stables. “You’re the one who wanted a favour.”

“Yeah, and I still need to tell you.”

“Literally no one’s stopping you, Bertholdt.” Another resigned sigh. “Okay. Okay. Ask me. I promise I won’t tease you for the next ten minutes.” Turning around, you rest your broom against the post between two stalls. A horse nudges at your face and you scratch the stallion’s chin as Bertholdt walks closer. His eyes inspect your own expression, searching for trickery, but you only grin.

Then, he drops his crossed arms and says, “Someone wants to ask you out next weekend for our visit to Trost.”

“Er, okay? Why didn’t they just ask me themselves?” Crossing your own arms, you lean against the post, the lantern hanging above your head and casting everything in a warm glow. It softens Bertholdt’s smile as he shrugs mischievously. “Who was it?”

“Reiner.”

“Reiner?” His name is punched out of you, sharp with shock, and your broom slides off the post, clattering to the floor between the two cadets as you stare at Bertholdt.

“Mhm?”

“Reiner Braun.”

“Yep.”

“We know the same one, don’t we?”

“Blond, makes ass jokes, this tall?” he shoots back, raising a hand that comes just near his ear. You nod. “Yeah.”

“But he hates me.”

“What? No, he doesn’t. Why would you think that?” Bertholdt’s eyebrows knit together and you stare at him incredulously, not sure if he’s joking or not. Shaking your head, you let out a scoff and bend down to pick up your broom to continue your sweeping. Mind a swirl, you try to reconcile the Reiner, who has never said more to you than ‘pass the grease’ during ODM maintenance and ‘you have dirt on your chin’ after forest exercises, with the Reiner who had to ask Bertholdt to ask you out for him.

Sounds fake, but you digress.

“Okay,” you drawl, unable to help the disbelief from creeping into your voice. “This was a good attempt at a joke, but you need to try harder next time.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“Why would I ever believe you?”

“Because I would never li—make something up like that,” he says, correcting himself, and you send him a strange look. “Just… when we get to Trost, you know that bakery that sells the stuffed cream buns. The one you mentioned before?”

“Yeah. Annie likes them,” you inform him pointedly, and Bertholdt’s mouth drops open to argue but he seems to think better of it this time.

“Yes, that one.” Fighting a furious blush on his cheeks, he continues, “If you’re there at noon, you’ll see I’m not lying.”

“And if I’m not there?”

“Reiner will be very sad for the rest of his life,” Bertholdt declares and you can’t help your serious expression from sliding off. “Will you please just consider it?”

Staring at your friend, you study his expression. It’s completely genuine, open, eyes wide and you feel a part of you melting at how adorable he is. For such a tall guy, he’s so goddamn gentle it blows your mind he’s a fighter. You can’t see him hurting even so much as a fly.

It’s for that reason you relent. Because Bertholdt’s never gone out of his way to scheme your downfall. He doesn’t have that in him. “Fine,” you say after a moment. “Fine, I’ll consider it.”

When Reiner steps back into the port city, he can’t help but think what he always thinks when he gets off a battlefield. Four years, and every thought is the same. Routine, almost. Or maybe, a habit to keep something alive.

And he almost takes comfort in it. That you would’ve loved it here. In Marley—Liberio, or otherwise. There are so many kinds of sweets, pastries, so many sights to see—the water stretches on for miles and miles, and you could’ve tried seafood. Maybe you would’ve liked it.

You never tried seafood. He promised. He promised��

Fucking hell.

He steps out of the barracks, insides twisting into a tight knot as the sun blinds him. Lifting a hand, he squints and blinks, trying to get used to the brightness as people pass him by. Galliard’s voice trails after him like a ghost, and he scowls to himself, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He feels like he hasn’t slept a wink, and his body aches in places so deep he can’t rub it out.

“I saw you through her memories. You acted like the tough, reliable type. Not at all like yourself. And you were with that girl. Who was she to you, anyway, Reiner? Because my brother would have never cozied up with the enemy.”

Cozied up with the enemy. It’s as much as implying fraternization as anything and Reiner had barely chained back the words that would’ve torn both him and Galliard to shreds.

Don’t you fucking dare reduce her to just some promise I broke ever again. It stopped meaning something to me years ago.

Shaking his head free of Galliard’s voice, an image of you flashes through his mind to replace it and the urge to send a fist into his own face lances down his arm, but he barely restrains himself from doing so. Instead, he tightens his hand until his nails dig into his palm.

You’re always the one thing he can’t shake, nor does he think he wants to.

Hollow, his feet drag his battered body towards the harbour.

As he walks along the water, he hear some of the fishermen whistle and sing their shanties. It takes him a moment to recognize they’re all singing the same song, and he’s thrown back to when he came to the port the first time he was to go off to Paradis, how he committed the shanties to memory so he could take something with him to what was supposed to be an Island of Devils.

It makes his entire body ache, the uplifting tune filling his body up until he can’t possibly breathe. The way the sailors all sing together, smiling at each other—the camaraderie.

“Soon may the Wellerman come, to bring us sugar and tea and rum, one day when the toungin’ is done, we’ll take our leave and go…”

He misses that the most.

The sun is hanging in the centre of the sky as you glance from your plate to your surroundings. The fountain is full of life, people milling around the edges, tossing coins in and making wishes, and you hide a smile behind your hand when you watch a group of kids trying to flick their coins to the top most basin of the structure. The tiny plink-plink is barely heard, but either way, their groans of disappointment are far more amusing.

It helps pass the time at least, while you waste away your afternoon waiting for someone you’re not even sure will come. Dressed in a white blouse tucked into a long dark purple skirt that covers your pants, you cross one leg over the other as you wait.

You don’t even know why you’re here. Bertholdt had all but avoided your questions for the past week, and Annie didn’t budge, although, it’s harder for the blonde to slip. Being bunkmates helps, but not that much.

You keep people-watching, glancing up at the sky occasionally to see if any birds pass over, your bread untouched. Glancing up and down the street, you rest your chin glumly on the palm of your hand, elbow resting on the table.

No pretty blond head in sight.

Groaning, you lift your head when one of the waiters approaches, asking if you wanted anything more. You shake your head, a warmth spreading over your face and watching him go when a shadow falls over your table.

“Oh, you got something to eat already.”

Head jerking to the voice, you look up in surprise at whoever’s blocking your sunlight. Standing upright, your chair clatters against cobblestone as you clear your throat.

“You’re actually here,” you blurt out to both of their surprise and Reiner rocks back on his heels, running a hand through his short hair. His eyebrows struggle to meet his hairline and he smiles sheepishly.

“Sorry I’m late. Uh, sit down. I just… got lost.” You sink back into your chair and he takes the seat down across from yours nervously. He’s dressed in a pale green button up and darker slacks, but for once, he’s not scowling at you and you offer a slight smile. “How… how are you?”

“I’m okay. Slow morning.” He nods. You glance at your plate and nudge it towards him awkwardly. “I got it for you. It’s my favourite. I dunno what Bertl told you about me, or… why I’m even here, honestly.”

He picks up the bun tentatively, and you look down at your boots as he takes a bite, too nervous to watch his reaction.

What if he hates sweet things? What if he can’t drink cow milk? Don’t you remember? What if it makes him shit his pants—

“Oh, wow. I need to come to this place more often,” Reiner mumbles, taking another huge bite and your gaze flits to his face as he chews. His eyes are focused solely on the bun in a way that reminds you a lot like Sasha, and the corner of your mouth pulls into a pleased hint of a smile. “This is heaven…”

“You like it?”

A noise escapes the blond and eyes jerk to meets yours as if he just remembered you were there and you tear your eyes away, clasping your hands together on the table. You close your eyes. Can the embarrassment just swallow you up already?

Reiner clears his throat, taking the cup of water left out for him after a quick point and your nod. He drains it to buy them both time, and your thumbs rub together. If you just walk away now, would it be too bad? You could probably find Annie or Jean pretty easily. Bertholdt’s probably just exploring the city with… if you had to hazard a guess, maybe Armin? They both like the architecture—stuff like that.

Honestly, you have no idea.

Porcelain rests against wood as Reiner nods. “I do. I didn’t know you had a sweet tooth.”

“Er, yeah. Since I was a kid. We didn’t have much, uh, variety, so stuff like this was kinda a delicacy. I grew up at this orphanage where we worked the fields.” You shift in your seat as Reiner continues to eat, and you sigh silently to yourself. Why did you give up an afternoon looking at paint supplies with Jean for an awkward date like this?

Wait, this is a date right? That’s what Bertholdt said. Ask you out. Those were his words, right?

“Where are you from?”

“Just inside Wall Maria, so when Shiganshina was breached, we had more time to move inward,” you explain briefly. “But we mostly ate what we grew for crops. I mean, it’s not like we could buy cream buns every day, you know?” Reiner nodded silently, and you give him an uneasy smile, feeling the need to elaborate. “Ever since we joined the corps, they send me money for birthdays and stuff. I don’t know.” You clear your throat. “Anyway, I just thought you might like the bun.”

“Even though you think I hate you?”

“Wha—“ A strangled noise comes out of your mouth. “Who told you that?”

“Why would you think that, anyway?”

“Because all you do is glare at me,” you say pointedly. Crossing your arms over your chest, you shoot him a narrowed look. “And scowl. And you generally avoid being anywhere near me. I mean, do I stink to you or something, Braun, because I have news for you—“

“I don’t hate you. I actually really like you,” he tells you bluntly, cutting your rant in half, and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Reiner looks down at the empty plate, crossing his own arms and leaning forward on them.

“Y-you like me?” you stammer and his cheeks redden.

“I mean, if Annie likes someone, I’m inclined to believe that they’re worth my time.”

Frowning, your shoulders slump. Gears turning, your expression scrunches up as you think aloud. “But, you asked Bertholdt to ask me out for you. Unless this is a dumb dare—wait.” You sit upright, twisting around to see if any of the other boys are milling around the plaza. Scanning for brown hair, or grey hair, or even blond hair, your cheeks begin to burn at the idea that someone’s watching you embarrass yourself but a hand on your elbow brings your gaze reeling back to Reiner.

A smile curls his lips impishly, but his eyes are resolute, calmer. Even still, he looks like he’s trying to fight a small panic rising up inside him, just like you are as he tells you to relax.

“This isn’t a dare,” he says. “I’m not that cruel.”

“I’ve seen you do worse to Titan dummies.”

“Exactly. I just wanted to get to know you better. Bertholdt offered to help me out since you guys are already friends, and I thought what the hell.”

You turn that explanation over in your head tentatively and a part of you recognizes it makes sense. Despite your hesitation, you know you only said yes because it was Bertholdt who asked you.

Otherwise, how inclined were you to say yes if it had been Reiner stalking up to you and asking you to hang out in Trost? How likely would it have been that you would be sitting here instead of walking along the stalls with Sasha and Connie?

“I’m kinda ashamed I don’t know you that well,” Reiner continues, fighting off tones you can’t decipher laced in his voice. Your brow furrows. “But I want to fix that, if you’d let me.”

Dazedly, you repeat, “Fix… that?”

He nods and you simply stare at him, trying to get your mouth to work. It’s like he stole all the words from your mouth and time seems to slow as your lips part.

Absently, you realize his hand is still touching your elbow, fingers firm but not tight, and you swallow, studying his expression. Golden light plays on his face, sharpening the shadows of his nose and cheeks and lips, and yet everything about him seems to soften. Normally, you see him as hard rigid lines, like the shape of armour, and there is always an imposing aura around him that has become more muted now that he’s sitting beside you.

And you believe it. That he doesn’t hate you.

Maybe he really, really doesn’t, and you’d be an idiot if you don’t take up the offer.

So you stand up abruptly, and pull your arm out of his grip before slipping your hand into his.

“Fine,” you annouce, pulling him up. His eyes widen and you lead him away from the café with a small grin to yourself. A new plan begins to formulate in your mind as they step into the welcoming sun. Reiner’s long strides catch up to yours and he falls into step beside you. His stare burns into your cheek and you only tighten your grip on his hand as you lift your chin haughtily at him. “What do you say to a game of twenty questions?”

His eyebrows shoot up, but then a smug smile pulls at his mouth and he squeezes your hand back. “Sounds perfect, creampie. I promise, I’ll be perfectly honest.”

“Creampie?” you repeat dumbly, eyebrows shooting up and a horrible burning licking at your heart. Reiner gives you a vulgar smile and you let go of his hand, shaking your head and smacking his arm before looking down at the ground. Half of you wishes the ground would open up and swallow you whole—the other half thinks you’ll die of embarrassment before that. “How do you even know what that is?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You straighten up, spine straight as an arrow. Flustered, you stutter, “That’s none of your business.”

He tilts his head back and laughs. “Guess that was your first question, then, huh? Bold start. Surprised me, too, creampie, so that gets you bonus points.”

“What? Wait—no! That doesn’t count!”

Walking past the hospital every day, it feels almost ritual to look past the gates and into the courtyard. Sometimes there are patients milling around, doing their daily physical activity, or nurses and other workers walking through to get a break from all the depressing shit that must be going on in there, and Reiner always, always, wonders if he should be in there with the rest of them.

It’s why he turns his head on reflex now, peering through iron-wrought gates. No one’s inside except for a pair walking through the path and he stops for a moment, watching.

One of them is most definitely a woman, a hat covering her head and a long coat the shade of plums. A white Eldian armband is stark against the shade of her clothes. Meanwhile the other looks like he’s been dragged through hell. With one leg, he hobbles along with his crutch, black hair streaming past his shoulders, and he’s ragged, white shirt kind of messy from where Reiner stands. The Eldian armband is wrapped tight along his bicep. But he stands straight-back, shoulders set, the gait of a soldier. Pride keeps him up, not strength.

He’s too far away to hear them speak, and they stick to the shadows of the hospital, but after a short moment, the woman wraps an arm around the one not desperately holding onto the crutch, leaning in closer towards the man as if he has the most riveting thing to say.

For a moment, it is not a woman in a purple jacket and a veteran with one leg but two cadets walking the streets of Trost, sunlight shining down on them warmly. The blond boy leans to listen to the girl beside him, smiling until he thought his cheeks would fall off.

“This is your last question, Reiner. Make it count.”

“Hm… alright, if you could do anything in the world, anything at all, what would you do? No Titans, no soldiers. Let’s say there was no war at all and you had unlimited resources, yadda, yadda, yadda…”

“Oh? Hm… I’d want to live where there’s a lot of water. Like a lake or something. I’d get to try all these foods I’ve never thought of before, and I’d, uh… I don’t know what I’d do for money. I guess I’d figure it out somehow.”

“Chopping down wood sounds fun.”

“Yeah, right! I’d rather chop my fingers off. Hm… Maybe I could raise some kids, like I was raised. Give them a home.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“I dunno. I like being responsible for things. It makes me feel like I’m needed, I guess. I don’t want a kid to grow up lonely like I did.”

“That… that sounds nice.”

“You could visit, you know. As long as you chop the firewood.”

Reiner blinks, and the two are gone. Not a hint of them are in sight, and a soft breath slips out between his lips. He must’ve been seeing things.

Shaking his head to himself, he turns away.

The past year and a half has been turbulent since you became friends with Reiner, but for some reason, you don’t think you would change the thing.

Not even when Connie would come at ghastly hours in the morning because “CAN YOU PLEASE TELL REINER TO STOP SNORING? We would but we’re too afraid of being crushed by the weight of his entire body. Thank you! You’re the best, seriously.”

Or when they’re studying and Reiner makes one too many jokes about how he could fuck a Titan, despite Bertholdt’s resigned sighs and you throwing a book at him, and it only gets you, “Keep acting like that and I’ll take a bite out of your juicy ass next, creampie,” and a heat that kisses at your face.

Not even after reclaiming Trost and losing yourself in his arms.

You feel something inside you shatter as the smell of ash tickles at your nose. Walking past the combat medics base they set up for the parameter of the recovery effort, you don’t even look up at any of your friends still left as you walk past. Your entire body burns from the aftermath of Trost, and you wonder if you’ll be able to even get up in the morning as you limp over to a secluded alleyway and lean against the stone.

You don’t know if you’ve ever fought for that long or hard in your life, and you can’t feel your legs anymore as you sink to the floor.

Too many bodies. There are too many bodies.

“Hey.”

Looking up, you pull your mask down when Reiner stands before you. Tearing the fabric off your neck, you draw your knees up and rest your arms on top of them, the mask hanging off your fingers limply. A strange relieving wave washes over you to know he’s still here, even surrounded by so much death.

“Hi,” you murmur. “It’s a lot.”

“Yeah,” he agrees simply, leaning in beside you and sliding down. Their knees knock into one another as he tugs his own mask down. Sweat glistens along his skin and his sleeves are rolled up as he clears his throat. “I’m glad you made it out.”

You smile faintly at him but it flickers out before it can find a place on your face. Looking at your hands, you imagine the rough skin of calluses forming on your palms still and you wish you could rip your gloves off but every part of you is too exhausted to move now. Softly, you tell him, “I’m glad you made it out, too. There are a few of us I haven’t really caught sight of. I know Eren’s squad is dead. I—“ you stop yourself. No way Reiner is interested in the fact that you had taken their deaths in stride because you had to in the moment and now you don’t think you can feel at all— “but… Marco. I haven’t seen him in days. Jean hasn’t seen him either.”

“M-Marco?” Reiner whispers and your eyes lift to look at him. “You haven’t found him yet?” Gaze widening at the colour draining from Reiner’s face, your stomach flips and a dread fills your entire being as you sit upright, your legs sliding down, your arms falling to the ground to prop yourself up. Lungs tightening, your lips part as if to form his name but no sound comes out.

You know what his silence means. His silence is death spelt out in glaring red letters—the same shade as blood.

But Marco?

Why Marco? A caustic voice screams inside you and your nails dig into the cobblestone as Reiner turns his face away, jaw clenching. Trying to breathe, the air stalls in your throat and your gut clenches as your gaze drifts to the street full of combat medics and doctors, other soldiers who still walk. What—what do you mean Marco isn’t one of them? You want to grab Reiner by the jacket, shake him until he makes sense, but instead you search for freckles behind every mask, stumbling to your feet. Marco never did anything wrong. He was supposed to join the MPs. He was our… our leader. He never did anything wrong.

He never did anything wrong. Never. Never. Not Marco. It can’t be. The thought tumbles through your head as you push yourself to your feet but your knees nearly give in on the first step and you stumble to the other side of the alleyway with a harsh noise. Shoulder crashing into the stone, your eyes squeeze tight and hot tears pour down your face as you clench your teeth, trying to chain back the sob that’s working through your body. Head hanging, your mouth pries open as an ugly moan comes out of you, so deep inside you that you want to crumble.

Days seem to pile onto your shoulders until you think your bones will break and your fingers curl into tight fists as you try to stop the tears from falling, but they keep coming, tracing your nose, pushing everywhere and everything is so hot. Shit, you can’t even breathe—

Hands take your shoulders and you let out a ferocious scream, thrashing yourself out of your grip but fingers only slide to your biceps, pulling you away from the wall as your boots slip against the cobblestone and then hands are on your wrists, pushing away your blind fists.

“Let me go! He’s dead, isn’t he?” you scream as he lets go of you for just a second to wrap his arms around you and you let out a shuddering breath as he crushes you in his embrace. “Reiner! Tell me! Marco’s dead!”

“Yes! Yes, he is!”

His words spear through your skull, sending electricity down your spine and your entire body goes limp as he collapses to his knees, you with him. Your arms at your side, your eyes blink open and you feel fresh tears fall down your face as he cups the back of your head, holding you to him and as something wet seeps into your shoulder, it’s as if you are set on fire.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

On their own accord, your arms come up under his and fingers hook onto his shoulders. Chest to chest, you swear your heart beats in a mournful beat with his, and his entire body collapses against yours. Eyes closing, you press yourself closer, hoping that the heat of his body will chase away the cold that’s rapidly spreading through your body.

Reiner’s arm around your waist tightens. You swallow hard against his shoulder.

“Please forgive me,” he whispers against your neck, wet cheek pressing against your jaw, and your chest stutters as you try to remember how to breathe.

“Reiner…”

You barely breathe his name. It only makes him curl tighter against you.

Liberio is colder at night than he remembers. He has to pull the blankets up to his chin, and still, he shivers.

Rolling onto his side, he can nearly imagine you staring back beside him, smiling, hand reaching to touch his face, and his eyes flutter shut when your fingers seem to pass through his cheek.

In his mind, you’re wearing the white blouse and long purple skirt again, long riding boots covering dark pants, innocent smile on your face as you wait for him in the noon sunlight.

By then, he had known there weren’t any devils on Paradis, but he’d never seen an angel until he saw you cast in gold.

304 notes · View notes

jamaisjoons · 5 years ago

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half a heart ⤑ knj | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you and namjoon have always been the best of friends; who just happen to be in love and are refusing to do anything about it. 〞best friends to lovers. childhood friends to lovers. idiots to lovers.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: namjoon x reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 19.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: empHASIS ON THE IDIOTS TO LOVERS, pining, god there’s so much pining, namjoon is the sweetest man and this fic will ruin all other men for you, slight jealousy, slight possessive!namjoon, soft dom!namjoon, big cock!namjoon, sub!reader, biting, marking, grinding, dry humping, dirty talk, nipple play, nipple sucking, fingering, handjob, unprotected sex, riding, soft sex, i am in love with kim namjoon, some deep dicking because its not a sol fic for joon without this, creampie, slight cumplay

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: there’s honestly so much fluff in this and that is a testament to how much i love Kim namjoon papa bless,

⏤ thank you to my sweet beans @peekaboongi and @shadowsremedy for beta reading this for me ♡

⇥ part of the mixtape series

Decidedly, there have been many days in your life. Some happy, some sad. Some you remember better than others while others fade away into the back of your mind. Some are ingrained so deep in your mind that when you close your eyes, you can see every detail as if it’s currently happening. None, however, do you remember more clearly than the day you met Namjoon. It had been almost two decades ago; when you were five, and he was six. You remember being nervous - your parents had just moved to Seoul - and unlike your small port town of Yeosu, you had no friends, nor did you know anyone.

Seoul had originally felt like an adventure, but actually moving there had been a lonely experience. Tall skyscrapers dwarfed your form, and life moved as fast as its people - unlike your sleepy hometown. Thus, when your mother had brought you to the park, you’d clung to her skirt - too afraid to venture out and speak to anyone. Closing your eyes, you can still see the faded metal of the monkey bars, hear the tinkering laughter of children running around and smell the sweet scent of the Bungeoppang stall that was nearby.

It had all been incredibly overwhelming back then, and you’d only hidden further behind your mother’s legs. Until - you’d spotted a boy, as lonely as you. A fond smile curls on your face as you remember Namjoon’s little frame. With chubby cheeks, curious eyes, and dressed in little shorts and a bright red t-shirt, he’d sparked your own curiosity. Unlike the other children, he wasn’t running around, or climbing the slide, or even hanging from the monkey bars. Rather, he sat crouched on the floor, intrigued brown eyes staring intently at the bushes as he stuck his hand into the shrubbery.

Unable to stop yourself, and completely enthralled by his curiosity, you’d approached him hesitantly. The moment he had felt your presence behind you, he’d hushed you, his face twisted in concentration. His harsh shush had almost sent you running - scared that he’d yell at you for coming close to him - but instead, you’d stayed rooted to the spot - too engrossed in his actions. All of a sudden, he’d yelped in triumph and pulled out his hands.

Immediately, he’d turned to you and with the brightest smile - eyes full of wonder and the apples of his cheeks bunched together - he’d proudly shown you the little green frog he’d caught. And that one action - that one smile - had sealed it between the two of you. Ever since then, Namjoon had been your best friend. Woefully, to your utter despair, it turned out that his family lived a good forty-five minutes from you. But that hadn’t stopped the two of you - no. Still, every day, the two of you would meet up at the park and go on little adventures - Namjoon’s pudgy hand holding onto yours.

Nostalgia cascades through you as you continue mulling over your relationship with Namjoon. You’ve lived twenty-four years, and throughout the vast majority of it - Kim Namjoon has been your only constant. Even as you grew up, the distance had meant nothing to you; you’d always made time for each other. Your childhood had been filled with wild adventures and borderline ridiculous experiences: Namjoon dragging you out the comfort of your home so that the two of you could do whatever stupid thing his enigmatic mind could think up. Consequently, that very same enigmatic mind is the exact reason for your current situation.

It’s the middle of the night - the air cool against your skin, even with your large puffer jacket to keep you warm. Currently, you find yourself on the rooftop of your building and as usual, like most of your memories, Namjoon is beside you. Just a few minutes ago, he had burst into your bedroom. Carelessly, he’d thrown you your jacket before dragging you onto the roof of the building. Of course, you’d tried to protest, but you’d never been able to deny Namjoon. Not when he looked at you with those sweet, warm coffee eyes of his.

Thus, you’d let him - albeit reluctantly - pull you to the top of your apartment building.

Sitting on the bare, cold tile - you look at him expectantly. Mild annoyance twists your features; though, that’s more due to the chill of the wind, and your grogginess, than anything else. It’s nearly the end of summer: the foliage of the trees starting to fade from vibrant greens to tamer shades of bronze and gold. On the horizon, you can see the stark, vivid neon lights of Seoul’s skyline - the city still buzzing with life. However, in your smaller neighbourhood - away from the main bustle of the town, it’s quieter - darker.

The thick tarp of night blankets the sky: painting it midnight blue, and starks twinkle within its hold: scintillating like the clearest diamonds. Despite the ambient chill, you find yourself relaxing: your shoulders deflating imperceptibly. Knees pulled to your chest, you wrap your arms around your knees and stare at the sky. For as long as you’d know, you’d loved the night sky - its dark embrace nothing short of comforting. More than that, you loved the stars - you loved coming out at night and just drinking in their radiance; their distant coldness soothing your soul.

You’d always thought there was a certain loneliness to them. They look beautiful: glinting magnificently beside each other while they hover in the upper stratosphere. But you know better - each and every one of them are millions of light-years apart from the next - each more sequestered than the one before. Really, you know they have no sentience - and in fact, most of them are already dead: completely burnt out by the time you can view them. And you know they can’t feel their solitude: they’re nothing but burning clusters of gases and atoms - combusting in a breathtaking display of light. Nevertheless, it’s still something you take an odd comfort in.

“Why did you bring me out here, Joon?” you finally ask, turning back to your best friend. You watch him grin brightly at you, the deep wells of his dimples indenting in his full cheeks, but you know Namjoon. In fact, you know him better than you know yourself. Thus, you see the slight hesitant insecurity swirling in his usually soft, brown eyes.

“You had a bad day- and it’s night time,” Namjoon replies, his voice a little hushed. With a deep sigh, you glare at him. It’s almost three in the morning, you’re tired and a little cranky. Of course, it’s not like he woke you up or anything - he’d seen that your bedroom light was still on and that you were sadly moping in bed, curled under the covers as you scrolled through social media. Mainly because he was right, you did have a bad day. Work had been exhausting, someone from your team had misplaced some important figures and your boss had yelled at you for it in front of everyone; completely embarrassing you, even though it wasn’t your fault.

Exhaling deeply, fatigue evident in your sigh, “Joon- can we not do this now? Whatever you want to do, let’s just do it some other time. I’m tired, I’m cold and I just want to go back to bed,” you breathe out. Immediately, Namjoon shuffles closer to you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he tugs you into his chest.

Petulantly, you keep your shoulders stiff - fighting his pull. However, when his calming scent: fresh cotton and soft floral notes - the mix of his fabric softener and lotion, wafts across your senses, you reflexively find yourself turning putty in his hold. Relaxing in his embrace, you let his strong arms envelop you, taking comfort in your best friend’s cradle. Instinctively, Namjoon places his chin onto your head, tucking you further into him.

Knowing you’re fighting a losing battle, “Joon,” you mumble wearily.

“Just give me a couple of moments okay? I promise you’ll love this. Let me explain - and if you still want to go to bed, we can, alright?” comes his soothing words. The dulcet tones of his voice fill your eardrums, his chest rumbling lowly under your back. When you don’t say anything, Namjoon continues, “You had a bad day, but it’s a clear night tonight. You love watching the stars.” There’s no real emotion in his voice - his mouth uttering the statements plainly. Not that it really needs any emotion - they’re all basic facts.

Seeing where he’s going with this, you sink further into his embrace. Trust your best friend to drag you out on a cool summer night, just to stargaze, because you had a bad day. You love him. You really do. Tiredness brushed aside, you wriggle in his hold slightly and tilt your head, so you can look up at him. Namjoon shifts, putting a little distance between the two of you as he looks down at you. His face is incredibly close, his breath fanning your lower chin: so sweet you can taste him on your lips.

“Are we just out here to watch the stars?” you ask, a light teasing inclination lacing your voice.

Namjoon hums lowly, before cocking his head to the sky. Arms tightening around you, his voice turns low - and deep - the shallow timbre of his voice easing your soul. “As long as I’ve known you, you have been in love with the night sky - and the stars. Especially the constellations, and their myths, and their stories…” Namjoon begins, his warm gaze trailing over the vast cosmos above you. Then, he pauses before turning back to you. His eyes are alight with tenderness and a slight streak of knowing mischief, “but you’ve never actually been able to point out any of them,” he continues with a low chuckle.

Hearing his words, you scowl slightly before playfully smacking his soft belly. Never being able to actually make out a genuine constellation - other than Orion, because really, that one was easy - had always frustrated you to no end. You’d tried - really, you’d tried - but every time you’d look at the stars, you’d get lost in its overwhelming expanse, and consequently, those bright clusters would blur together - like a pile of glitter dust.

“Did we come out here just so you could tease me?” you butt in, pout evident in your voice. Namjoon exhales heavily in amusement, before tapping his chin against your forehead.

“No- that’s just an added bonus,” Namjoon laughs. Scowl deepening, you stick your tongue out at him. Large hands skim down your body before twisting around your waist and pulling you further into his body, “I learned them for you,” he suddenly breathes out.

Pausing, your features twist into an expression of confusion, “huh? Learned what?” you question.

Namjoon’s fingers flex above your stomach, a sign of his nervousness. From your head resting below his chin, you feel, and hear, him swallow thickly. “I learned them - the constellations. I learned about their positions and how to locate them. Just so you can tell me about them,” he confesses.

Floored by his admission, you instantly jerk off of him. Turning around, you stare at him with wide eyes, your gaze trailing over his face as you take him in. Gazing into his soft mocha eyes, you can’t help but find yourself sinking into their depths. Two decades. You’ve known Namjoon over two decades, and yet - somehow his eyes are the same. You remember them clearly from when he was younger, the pools of liquid chocolate shining just as they did back then. If you were being cheesy, you’d liken them to the stars you love so much: the brown irises twinkling as if those coffee depths held the stars themselves.

Except - they’re not the same. Unlike the cold, distant light of the stars, Namjoon’s eyes are dynamically bright, wonderfully expressive, and so full of tender love and warm affection. Sometimes, they sparkle with curiosity - and other times, they glint with an enigmatic knowingness: as if he knew all the secrets of the world. Right now, there’s nothing but kindness, and earnestness in his eyes, mixed with a little hesitance, and just the sight of it has your heart clenching, overwhelming emotion welling up inside you. Throat tight, and mouth suddenly dry, your face crumples as you take in the sight of your best friend.

His muscles are completely relaxed as he sits on the concrete tile of the rooftop - strong arms now braced on the ground as he leans back. Silhouetted by the dark blanket that is the night sky, he somehow looks bigger, and with his dark hair falling into his eyes, and an inkling of nervousness painted in his tender eyes, your chest tightens. Swallowing thickly, you shuffle closer before laying your head on him.

Automatically, as if the movement were ingrained in his muscles, his arms wrap around you, and gently, he pulls you backwards - until you’re both laying down. One of his hands moved to rest under his head - cushioning his skull - while the other lazily curls around you: the gesture second nature to him. With your head on his chest, you naturally entwine your fingers with his, before laying it on your stomach. Staring up at the sky, you point at a random constellation.

“Which one is that?” you ask, pointing to a random group of twinkling orbs. You thinkit’s a constellation - but really, it could just be an obscure cluster of stars.

Namjoon laughs, his chest reverberating endearing under your head. “You know, it’s kinda hard to know which one you’re pointing to when you just point at a random spot,” he teases. With a pout, you let out a slight huff, making him laugh again.

“How about this - I’ll point them out, and you can tell me about them?” Namjoon asks. Nodding eagerly, your entire body buzzes with excitement.

“That one’s Hercules,” Namjoon says - pointing to the sky before tracing a series of complicated geometric shapes in the air.

Baulking, “no! Joonie- oh my god, pick a different one. Hercules is so boring- everyone knows his story,” you whine. At your words, Namjoon bursts into laughter - the slightly high-pitched sound causing your face to soften. Focusing on the sound, you let the light laughter wash over you, the sound putting you at ease.

“Alright, alright. That one is Cassiopeia. Tell me about her,” Namjoon says - moving his hand down and tracing a zigzag over some brightly coloured stars.

Eyes lighting up, “Oh she’s cool! Well- not really. She was a queen and she claimed her daughter, Andromeda, was more beautiful than the Nereids. As a result, Poseidon-” you begin, before going off on a tangent. Throughout the entire story, Namjoon pays you the utmost attention - listening attentively as you animatedly regurgitate one of the countless myths you’ve got memorised.

When you're done, he points out another one - Draco this time - and with a soft pout, you explain that Draco was part of Hercules’ twelve labours. However, rather than making him change, you begin retelling the myth. Through it all, Namjoon listens quietly, and eventually, you grow tired, your voice turning wearier and wearier as you begin mumbling.

You’ve only just finished recounting the supposed myth of Corona Borealis - commonly known as the Northern Crown, and how its story is tied to the myth of Theseus and the minotaur. When your voice trails off and quiet fills the atmosphere once again. Namjoon's hand is still entwined in yours, and lazily, you play with his fingertips - simply watching the night sky and how the stars slowly pass over you. Perfectly content with the stillness around you, you’re happy to sit and bask in the comfort your best friend offers you: his arm casually over your body and his steady heartbeat under your head.

Then, all of a sudden, “have you ever loved someone?” he asks. Freezing under him, you tilt your head to look at the bottom of his jaw. Briefly, you wonder what spurred on the question - it’s completely out of the blue. “Sorry, it’s just- most of those myths had some sort of romance, and like, I was just wondering. You can ignore me,” Namjoon mumbles under his breath.

Sucking in a sharp breath, “I mean- I love you,” you choke out. Namjoon sighs, his fingers tightening around yours before you feel him shake his head.

“No- I mean like, have you ever been in love?” he asks, and from your position on his chest, with your head tilted up, you vaguely see the way his eyebrows knit in puzzlement. Pausing briefly, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and chew on it. That is what you’d meant. You have no delusions about you - you’re in love with your best friend. You’re not really sure when it had happened, but somewhere between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, you’d lost your heart to your best friend - and you’d never asked for it back. Nor did you ever really want it back.

Briefly, you wonder what would happen if you confessed your feelings now. “I-” I have those feelings for you. It would be so easy - to just spill the words that have bubbled up at the back of your throat. However, you can’t bring yourself to do it. So, instead, “I guess,” you softly finish.

You don’t have to confess your feelings.

At least, not yet.

Soon, autumn rolls around the corner, and mid-October, you and your friends decide to take a much-needed vacation from both universities: Jungkook in his final year, Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin all in their masters, and from work: you, Seokjin, Yoongi and Taehyung needing to recuperate from the stress of office life. Thus, your entire group decided to pool as much money together as you could, and take a spontaneous trip. Though, with half your friendship group still being broke university students, your holiday spots were sorely limited.

Nevertheless, deciding a weekend trip was the easiest - and probably the cheapest. You and your friends find yourself in a cabin nestled in the woods near Seoraksan National Park. It’s a quaint location - privately owned by an old couple who’d bought it in their prime - surrounded by trees and a little neighbouring stream. However, the lot of you had yet to explore any of the trails. Especially considering its late evening - all of you only arriving an hour ago.

“Can someone come and help me for a moment?” Seokjin calls, his voice echoing from the kitchen.

From your seat on the sofa, nestled comfortably between Namjoon’s thighs as you rest against his chest, you look around the room. Jungkook and Taehyung are in the middle of what seems to be an intense game of Jenga, Hoseok and Jimin cheering them from the sidelines. On the sofa opposite the one you and Namjoon are occupying, Yoongi is practically falling asleep - and you know he needs the rest: having pulled a double shift at the radio station he works at. Noting the way you shift, Namjoon lets out a whine of protest, his bulging biceps tightening around you as he tries to keep you in his arms.

Laughingly, “Joonie- you need to let me go. I’m gonna go help Jin,” you say as you try wriggling out of his grasps.

Namjoon only lets out a grunt of protest, “I literally stopped reading because you practically crawled into my lap, and this is the thanks I get?” he grumbles in mock petulance. Exasperated sighs escaping your lips, you untangle yourself from his embrace - Namjoon finally letting go of you, albeit reluctantly. “You owe me for this,” he groans as he stares up at you. Rolling your eyes, you bend over to the book he’d dropped on the ground when you’d practically smothered him with your body, and playfully throw it onto his stomach.

“Well, go back to reading then, you big baby,” you laugh. Then, not waiting for his response, you skip towards the kitchen in order to help Seokjin.

Mid-dinner preparation, and from your position besides Seokjin, you see Namjoon skulk into the kitchen. He’s got his hands buried into the large pockets of his grey hoodie, a small pout on his face. Ignoring his presence, you turn back to Seokjin, nodding with laughter as he continues animatedly talking about an incident at his office.

“And then, he literally takes his fish soup - which smells off by the way - and eats it like nothing's wrong. Literally, sitting with his shoes off and feet up on another chair! Completely ignoring the fact that the entire break room smells like a fish market and as if Yeojin wasn’t just watching him with her jaw open,” Seokjin finishes.

Letting out a loud guffaw, “no! He didn’t, oh my god. What did Yeojin do after that?” you ask, as your laughing body leans into Seokjin.

Taking a seat by the kitchen island, Namjoon’s eyes wander over you and Seokjin - his eyelids narrowing slightly at how close the two of you are standing. Seokjin is leaning slightly into you as he stirs the pot, your own body braced against his in a fit of giggles. Stomach dropping to the pits of his abdomen, and with a slightly soured expression, “what are you laughing about?” Namjoon asks as he approaches you.

“Oh, Jinnie was just telling me about these two people in his office. They keep fighting and Yeojin pissed Minki off, so he decided to eat fish soup in the office - knowing she hates the smell,” you reply simply, letting out a little laugh as you remember the story. Namjoon frowns when he watches you smile easily at Seokjin, your eyes alight with carefree happiness.

Pout deepening, he slips his arms under yours before wrapping them around your waist and pulling you into his chest. Angling your head up, you look at him curiously before laughing, “you okay, Joonie?” you ask. Despite your question, however, you smile brightly and instinctively sink into his embrace. From beside you, Seokjin looks at the two of you in exasperation, and after giving Namjoon a pointed, knowing look, turns back to his own task.

Really, Seokjin muses to himself, Namjoon could not be any more obvious with his feelings - or possessiveness. In fact, neither could you - the two of you practically glued at the hips. For as long as he’s known you both, the two of you have been like this - and yet, you’re still somewhat oblivious to the other’s feelings. After another shake of his head, he sighs in exasperation again before continuing to stir the pot.

Namjoon hums, placing his chin onto your head, “hmm. Uhh... yeah, just wondering if I can help?” He slowly asks.

Snorting, “absolutely not. You’re too much of a hazard risk here. Just go sit with everyone else,” you reply. Swiftly, you place the knife down and wriggle in his arms: unwinding from his grasp. Then, bracing your hands on his strong chest, you begin pushing him out of the kitchen.

“What- no, I can help,” Namjoon protests the entire time you push him. However, you refuse to be deterred.

“Nope! The last time you did that, you burnt your hands trying to drain some noodles. I love you Joon, but you don’t have a lot of common sense in the kitchen. Just go read your book. Seokjin and I are almost done anyway,” you say as you finally shoo him away. Your best friend lets out a little huff, but does as you ask. You watch as he sulks off, dropping to the couch huffily before he crosses his arms and pouts quietly. Shaking your head, you turn back into the kitchen - ready to finish up.

As you’d said - in another ten minutes, you and Seokjin are done. You help Seokjin carry the piles of dishes into the living room - deciding to sit around the coffee table and eat. When you place the last dish, you turn around to your best friend - only to see that he’s still pouting. With his strong eyebrows furrowed, his cheeks slightly puffed out and plush lips pursed, he’s the most adorable expression of frustrated petulance you’ve ever seen.

Grabbing one of the pieces of fried chicken, you plop yourself down beside Namjoon. Sullenly, Namjoon turns away from you - even as you hold out the chicken as a peace offering. Watching his reaction, you bite your lip and place the piece of chicken back down onto the table. From beside you, Jungkook looks at the two of you curiously, a piece of tempura prawn already halfway into his mouth.

“What’s wrong with Joon-hyung?” Jungkook questions, pointing his chopstick at your best friend.

“He’s mad ____ kicked him out the kitchen,” Seokjin replies simply before slurping his noodles.

Ignoring them, you place your hands on either side of Namjoon’s cheeks and squeeze them together, you turn his face towards you. “Joonbug, I’m sorry,” you say as you look at him with large eyes and an exaggerated pout. The corners of Namjoon’s lips twitch, causing you to let out a cheer of triumph. “I saw that! You can’t be mad at me anymore,” you practically shriek.

“That’s not fair! You know you look ridiculous when you pull that face, how am I supposed to stay mad at you,” Namjoon bemoans.

However, you’re already shaking your head and loudly smacking your lips, “nope,” you reply - harshly popping the ‘p’. “Too late. You love me,” you continue.

Eyes softening, Namjoon nudges you with his shoulder before reaching for a piece of chicken, “Nah- I’ve just known you for so long, I can’t get rid of you,” he retorts.

“Oh please, we all know you love me,” you snort back. And then, without thinking, you reach over and smack a wet kiss against Namjoon’s cheek. Playfully, he pulls a face before rubbing at the wet spot on his cheek and wiping it on your shirt excessively.

Before you can reply, “Oi! Can we just eat without you two being gross for once?” Jimin cuts in - throwing a cushion at the two of you.

“Yeah dudes, some of us are trying to eat,” Taehyung chimes in.

Namjoon and you still all of a sudden, completely taken aback by Taehyung and Jimin’s words. Matching identical expressions of surprise plastered onto your face, you both sputter at the same time, “what’s the supposed to mean?” Hearing the synchronous, twin cries out outrage, you both blink owlishly before turning to each other.

Scoffing playfully, “That’s what we mean,” Yoongi chimes in.

Hours later, you and Namjoon sit up in bed. With the room swallowed by darkness - the room is merely lit up by the soft ambient lights of the bedside tables and the soft streams of moonlight peeking through from under the heavy cotton curtains. Buried under the covers, with the sheets tucked under your lap, you practically lay on Namjoon’s chest: relishing in the way his chest rumbles under your head. When Namjoon lets out a sudden high pitched noise, you can’t help but let out a peal of raucous laughter.

“Oh my god, J-Joon that was s-so bad,” you choke out, wiping the tears from your eyes.

Playfully pinching your side, Namjoon pouts, “hey! Personally, I thought it was a very good elephant noise,” he replies haughtily.

Raising your eyebrow, “in what world is that an elephant noise? It sounded like you were blowing a very bad raspberry,” you reply indignantly.

“Oh like you could do better?” Namjoon drawls snarkily. Jaw dropping to your chest, you look up at him in mock ire.

Then, eyelids narrowing playfully, you crook your elbow over your mouth. “Oh, watch me,” you reply - easily accepting his challenge. However, just before you can blow into the skin of your elbow - there’s a knock at the door.

Rather than waiting for the two of you to answer, Yoongi is already opening the door. The two of you wince, your eyes squinting as the stark white lights of the corridor break into the soft golden ambience of your bedroom. “Do you both ever sleep?” Yoongi mumbles as he shuffles into the room.

“Coming from you that’s pretty rich, Yoon,” you reply back, a playful grin on your face. Yoongi tuts, however, before he can say anything, he simply stops and takes in the sight of you. With your head laid on Namjoon’s chest, his body propped against the headboard, and the sheets comfortably draped around your bodies, you look the epitome of an old married couple; and he’ll never understand how the two of you aren’t together yet. Friends don’t act the way the two of you do - and even best friends aren’t as close as you both are. In fact, he knows if he were to take the covers off you both - neither of you would be wearing pyjama bottoms.

Choosing to ignore your comment, and how ridiculously at ease the two of you are together, “Yeah, whatever. It’s almost sunrise and we were thinking of going up the hill just outside Seoraksan Park and watching it, if you wanna join us,” Yoongi says as he scratches his ear.

“Wait- what? Sunrise? Already?” you ask, as you sit up in bed. Namjoon follows your movement, sitting up straighter as you both glance at the clock on the table next to your bed.

“Fuck, have we really been awake the entire night? How? What have we even been doing” Namjoon asks, turning to you with the most adorable look of perturbation you’ve ever seen. Not having an answer to his question, you simply shrug your shoulders. Staying up early into the morning was a common occurrence where Namjoon and you were concerned. Somedays, you don’t even remember what you’d talked about or what you’d done - you only knew that you’d spent the entirety of the night with him by your side.

“How the fuck do you not know the time? Or what you’ve been doing- you know what, it doesn’t matter,” Yoongi begins ranting only to stop. Taking a deep breath, he sighs, “Are you guys coming?” he breathes out.

Looking at Namjoon, you quirk your eyebrow at him. Yoongi watches as the two of you simply watch each other - and neither of you says anything, yet he knows somehow you’re both still having an internal conversation. Then, in a borderline creepy manner, you both turn at the same time and nod.

“Yeah, just give us a moment to get dressed,” Namjoon says as he pushes the sheets off of your both. Yoongi frowns, diverting his eyes immediately - because just as he’d predicted, both of you are dressed in just t-shirts and your underwear.

Exasperated sigh falling from his lips, and with a shake of his head, “Just meet us by the door,” Yoongi calls out as he exits your room.

Namjoon turns around to you, and with a quirk of his eyebrow, “What do you think is up with him?” he asks.

Shrugging, “honestly? No idea,” you reply.

Pulling your jacket closer around you, you shiver at the early morning chill: goosebumps prickling over your flesh as the crisp squall kisses your skin. Shrouded in darkness, the night sky looms over your group of friends as you carefully walk over the cobbled stone pathway. Large, slippery slates of stone litter the area: the boulders covered in a light sheen of river water from the stream nearby and leafy mosses poking through the narrow cracks between them. Considering this route isn’t exactly public - the grounds belong to the sweet couple who owned the lodge - the pathway isn’t as maintained as it could be - and all of you hold onto each other, keeping the other steady.

Namjoon’s hand firmly grips yours as he carefully steps over the rocks, and you know he’s using you as more of a support than you are using him, but you can’t help it. For as long as you’ve known him, Namjoon has been inherently clumsy; and constantly, you worry about his safety. Especially on excursions like this - the only light illuminating your path coming from the harsh flashlights of your phones. Nonetheless, your eyes glance to where your hands are linked, your heart fluttering at the sight.

His hand is large: dwarfing your smaller one, and warmth seeps from his skin towards yours: a smaller blessing considering the nippy air of the early morning. When he’s firmly stable on the boulder, he turns to you from over his shoulder. Even with the practically nonexistent lighting, you can still make out his face as he regards you with the brightest - somewhat sleepy - grin. The sight of him: lips pulled thin in a smile and dimples indented, paired with the way his frame is silhouetted in the shades of fall, has your heart clenching. Tightening your hold on Namjoon’s hand, you allow his strong frame to anchor you as you take another step forward - most of the other boys already ahead of you. Not that either of you mind, you and Namjoon tended to go off into your own world on walks like this anyway.

Eventually, the pathway morphs from slippery rocks to soft terrain. Reaching the entrance to the forest trail that apparently - according to the old couple - leads to a beautiful hilltop viewpoint, the eight of you gather around. Dawn’s twilight paints the sky - honeyed shades of topaz, rose and lilacs splattering across the night. The soft light finally illuminates the pathway, allowing you to see more clearly. Autumn is thick around you - the foliage emblazoned in colours of scarlet, amber and gold. Though, occasionally, trees with vibrant viridian and olivine foliage peek through the warm shades of fall. The ground is covered in dead leaves - the fallow litterfall cushioning the terrain, and crackling under your footsteps.

Beginning your descent down the winding trail - everyone breaks off into small groups: the pathway only wide enough to fit two people at a time. As usual, you and Namjoon find yourself at the rear end: your best friend stopping every now and then to snap a picture of the scenic landscapes around him. You love your best friend, you really do, but as he stops to inspect a rustling bush, you can’t help but sigh. Turning over your shoulder, your eyes widen as you realise that the boys have walked off further than you’d anticipated - however - before you can say something, Namjoon is already grabbing your hand once again.

“Did you see that?” Namjoon asks, a look of awed wonder etched onto his face. Eyebrows furrowing, you turn to where he’s pointing. Once again, the brush rustles, and when a chipmunk pops out, you take a surprised step back. It’s beady eyes take in you and Namjoon for a moment, and then it retreats back into the brush. “Wait- oh my god… There’s a hidden pathway! We should follow it,” Namjoon says ecstatically, his entire body vibrating with excitement. You’ve both been up the entire night, and with your walk, you find yourself growing tired. You know he is too. Yet, despite the sleepiness clouding both your bodies, his warm chocolate eyes practically sparkle; his entire aura buzzing with eagerness.

Biting your lip, you try to suppress your smile - though, you're sure your own look of excitement mirrors his. Desperately, you want to grab his hand and chase after the chipmunk - reminiscent of the days you’d do the same when you were children. However, you’re older now, and your friends have already walked off - and you really don’t want to get lost in a forest. Well you do, especially if it’s with Namjoon. But still, you need to be somewhat responsible. So, “Joonbug-” you try to reason, because really if you didn’t, no one would.

A knowing look on his face, “Moonbeam,” replies, his pet name for you dripping affectionately from his thick lips, “come on, it’ll be an adventure. There’s a little pathway here,” Namjoon says, as he reaches his hand out to you, the other pushing the bush out of the way. Instantly, you cave - because really, how could you say no to him - especially when you really don’t want to say no.

Placing your hand into his, “Alright, but if we get lost and Seokjin yells at us, I’m blaming you,” you reply cheekily. Instinctively, Namjoon’s fingers lace through yours as he tugs you towards the concealed pathway.

“I’ll just tell him you enabled me to do it,” Namjoon snaps back, a playful tone laced into his words. Then, without another word, he’s pulling you into the narrow pathway. Rapidly, he begins tearing through the trail, following the winding, narrow pathway as best as he can.

Your best friend is tall, and his legs are long - making his strides particularly lengthy - and you know anyone else would fall behind pretty quickly.

But not you.

No. You’ve grown up with Namjoon. You’re used to him grabbing your hand and running, used to chasing after him; and you’re used to keeping up with him easily. So, even with his long strides, and how quickly his feet slap the ground - you manage to follow him easily, your own toes just behind his heels. Colours of crimson, gold and honey blur past you, the crunching of leaves and the sound of your stomping feet mixing in a thunderous cacophony of sounds that fill the air.

However, you barely notice any of it. Rather, you’re far too fixated on your best friend. His hand is laced firmly in yours the entire time you chase after him - his long legs practically sprinting down the trail and after the chipmunk. Childlike glee exudes off of him in thick waves, and with the way his body bounces, his hair flopping as he runs, you can’t help the way your eyes soften. His large frame tears through the thicket of woods, the trunks whizzing past you while your own legs sprint as fast as they can.

Lost in Namjoon, you don’t notice him suddenly skid to a halt - at least, not until you’re crashing into his back. Steadfast, Namjoon braces himself - the two of you stumbling for a moment. Just in the nick of time, however, you both steady yourself: preventing you from falling over. Features scrunching in confusion, you look up at the back of his head in question.

“Joon, what-” you ask, only to halt when you peer over his large body.

Somehow, the hidden trail has led you both to a different viewpoint than the one the couple had told you about. Standing near the edge of the hilltop, you find yourself completely breathless at the view that greets your eyes.

At the top of one of Seokraksan’s many mountainous points, you can see miles off into the distance. Twilight slowly slips past, the sky indolently brightening with each passing moment. Dark shades of Prussian blue, indigo and plum soften into milder hues of lavender and azure; streaks of bronze and coral cutting through the sky. Stepping beside Namjoon, you both watch - in utter stillness, and awe - as the sun slowly rises over the skyline.

Thick beams of Aurelian gold peek over the horizon; illuminating the entirety of the ground with its rich sunkissed glow. Synchronously, both yours and Namjoon’s breath hitches. As the sun rises, the entirety of Seoraksan National park is lit up in the dazzling hues of daybreak. Autumnal trees of vibrant shades shimmer under its gleaming rays; the water from the narrow river that cuts through the park glistening in deep shades of cerulean and sapphire.

Turning to Namjoon, you can’t help but stop. Instantly, your breath catches in your throat and you find yourself at a loss for words. With the sun still rising in the sky, his entire body is silhouetted in a golden halo: the rays of light dancing enticingly around him. The autumn wind is light in the air, his hair gently billowing in the wind as sunlight filters through it.

And then he turns around.

Automatically, you suck in a sharp breath. With his face towards you, encased in the golden hues of daylight, you can’t help the overwhelming swell of emotions that crush you. Reflected in his warm eyes, are the golden rays of sunlight; causing the deep pools of coffee to twinkle with a certain mix of lightness and peace. The corners of his mouth are loosely pulled upwards, an easy smile painted on his lips. He stands with his hands loosely in the pockets of his oversized denim jacket, his shoulders completely lax as he soaks in the breathtaking scenery.

Swallowing thickly, you try to swallow the lump in your throat - but you can’t. Nor can you settle the beat of your heart: the muscle thunderously palpitating between your ribs. You don’t know what compels you to do it - but suddenly, you’re taking a step forward. And then another. And another. Until you’re right in front of him.

Namjoon watches you quietly - a light streak of curiousness evident in his eyes. However, that inkling of interest is overshadowed by the overwhelming emotion that you simply cannot decipher.

Nonetheless, the moment you’re only a hair’s breadth apart, you find yourself winding your arms around his waist. Instinctively, Namjoon’s hands drop from his pockets, his hands curling around your and encasing you in his hold. Then, before you can even think about it, or consider stopping yourself, you’re leaning on your tiptoes and pressing a light kiss to his lips.

For a fraction of a second, Namjoon’s eyes widen - his brain on the fritz as he feels your soft lips tenderly brush against his. The moment your lips touch, you feel a spark of electricity jolt through your body; your entire being coming to life as you buzz with excitement. Its sudden spark has you crashing back to reality, your senses finally coming back to you. As quick as it comes, however, and before he can react, you’re already swiftly pulling away.

The two of you stare at each in surprise, neither of you saying anything. You can still taste him on your lips, the soft petals tingling from when your mouth had tenderly caressed his. Licking your lips, dread floods through you as you wait for him to say something. However, he doesn’t. Instead, he stands completely rigid - his eyes glazed over and lips slightly parted.

When the silence grows terse, “I’m sorry! I don’t know what came over me,” you quickly blurt out. Your words have Namjoon crashing back to reality, and he draws to his full height - an unreadable expression in his eyes. “I mean- I’m just tired, we’ve been up all night and I wasn’t thinking straight-” you try to explain. It’s a lie. You know it is - but hopefully, it’s a lie he believes. You had wanted to kiss Namjoon - desperately - because sheathed in the early morning light, you don’t think he’s ever looked more beautiful. Nonetheless - you’d rather not lose your best friend.

“Oh,” Namjoon breathes out, his plump lips forming a perfect ‘o’.

The fierce urge to pull him in for another kiss tears through you, but this time, you manage to suppress it.

“Oh,” Namjoon repeats, almost as if he’s trying to process your words. There’s something hidden behind the way the sound drops from his lips - but before you can dwell on it, he’s already speaking.

“That’s okay, we’re both tired,” Namjoon nods, a light, nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “It’s okay, it means nothing… right?” he finishes. Although, you can’t help but wonder about the uncertainty in his final word.

Nonetheless, “Y-yeah, you’re right,” you mumble out, trying to stifle the way your throat constricts. Anguish cascades through you, your chest turning numb. However, it’s for the best. As much as you love Namjoon, losing him would completely devastate you. Gulping heavily, you lick your lips, “we’re okay… right?” you ask, your voice straining slightly as you attempt to choke out the words.

Namjoon smiles brightly - though, you can’t help but notice how it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “When are we not okay? It’s you and me, ____. Joonbug and Moonbeam, remember?” he replies easily, his eyes squinted shut into crescented slits.

“Yeah… Joonbug and Moonbeam,” you repeat; a smile curling onto your own face. Even as your heart aches to be more. Then, the two of you go back to staring at the sunrise.

For the rest of the trip, you and Namjoon don’t act any differently. In fact, both of you pretend as if you hadn’t kissed by the sunrise: that you didn’t know how the other tasted after a sleepless night filled with nothing but each other.

Yet, neither of you can deny that something about your relationship has changed. Though, as dread settles in your stomach, you can’t figure out whether it’s a good or bad change.

Four months after your kiss, you find yourself on the sofa with Namjoon. Not much has changed about your relationship with him; in fact, there are only two things that have changed. One is the fact that your feelings for your best friend have grown exponentially, and more often than not, you find yourself lost in him: desperately wishing to feel his lips on yours or to confess the weight of the emotions you feel for him: the words at the tip of your tongue.

Nevertheless, you don’t. You can’t. Not after the way he’d reacted to your first kiss in the first place. Though, there are times you wish he’d reacted differently - wish that your relationship was more than it is. Like right now.

You and Namjoon are currently on the sofa, his head resting on your chest and arms loosely thrown around your waist as you hold him; the two of you watching Shark Tale together. Why he’d suddenly wanted to watch Shark Tale, you have no idea. Nonetheless, there’s very little you can deny your best friend - so when he’d wanted to watch the film, you’d easily given in.

Namjoon’s gaze is glued to the screen, his eyes focused as he lazily watches the TV screen. Your focus, however, is fixated wholly onto him. With the way he’s laid on you, his body practically smothering yours, you can feel the way his chest rises and falls above yours, and the faint thudding of his heartbeat. Instinctively, your hands find themselves in his hair - loosely twirling the thick, silken locks between your fingertips.

It’s at moments like these, that you wish you were more: wish that you could call out his name softly and press your lips to him. But you can’t; because the second reason your relationship with Namjoon has changed, is that he’s now dating someone. And you mean dating - because he has yet to introduce her to you as his girlfriend - and until he does, you refuse to call her that. Mainly because it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

More than halfway through the film, and during the scene where Angie finally confesses her love to Oscar - really, you have to scoff - there’s an aggressive rapping at your front door. Before the two of you can even move, the door twists and slams open, revealing Oh Jihee. Why Namjoon had told her where the spare key to your apartment was hidden, you have no idea.

Indolently, Namjoon turns to the door, however, before he can even open his mouth to say anything, she’s already speaking. “What is happening here?” she asks, her eyes suspiciously roving over the two of you.

“Oh, ____ and I were just watching Shark Tale. Why are you here?” Namjoon asks as he slowly pulls away from you. The moment he’s off of you, the weight on top of your chest growing light, your stomach sinks in dejection.

Raising her eyebrow, she places her hands on her hips, “Because we had a date. That you’ve clearly forgotten about,” Jihee replies snarkily, throwing a scathing look towards you. You simply cock your eyebrow and scoff - it’s not your fault Namjoon forgot about his alleged date. Though, you can’t help the streak of happiness that flitters through you: he’d unknowingly chosen to spend time with you and not Jihee.

Namjoon pulls himself off of the couch and walks over to her. Then, pulling her into his arms, he presses a soft kiss against her temple. The tender gesture has you looking away, your features falling as despair settles deep within the pits of your abdomen. “Oh. Was that today? I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind. Let me go shower and get dressed quickly,” Namjoon softly apologises. Jihee’s eyes soften, and with an exasperated sigh, she nods.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” she replies before kissing the corner of his mouth. Then, she beckons him away - leaving the two of you alone. As soon as he disappears into his bedroom, Jihee turns to you, her eyes narrowed into slits.

“What’s your problem?” she hisses. Cocking your eyebrow, you slip off of the couch and begin clearing the snacks from the coffee table.

“I have no idea what you mean,” you reply back coolly.

“Yes, you do. Why do you both always act like you’re a couple, when you’re not? I don’t like how comfortable you are touching my boyfriend,” Jihee seethes back. Your stomach sinks at the term, but you suppress your own sadness. It’s not like it mattered anyway - Namjoon was free to date whoever he wanted. He was your best friend. Just your best friend. Something you reiterate to her.

“We’ve been friends since we were children - it’s just how we’ve always been,” you shrug back simply.

“Yeah, well I’d like you to stop, I don’t like it. In fact, I don’t like your relationship with him at all,” she responds, her lips pursing into a sour expression.

Snorting lightly, “yeah, well, I don’t really care. He’s my best friend, he’s not going to stop being my best friend because you don’t like our relationship. And if you have a problem with it - you can take it to Namjoon. But you and I both know he won’t like that, which is why you’re saying this to me when he’s not here,” you retort easily.

Jihee splutters for a moment, “that’s not why I’m doing it,” she protests weakly. Though, neither of you believe that for a single moment, “besides- what do you know about what he likes. I’m his girlfriend,” she snaps.

A look of incredulity paints your face at that, and with a disbelieving chuckle, “you did not just imply that you know more about him than me, just because you’re in a relationship with him,” you say.

“And what if I did? We’re together, he would have told me more. Things he can’t tellyou,” Jihee replies - although, from her own uncertain tone, you both know she’s just grasping at straws. You’ve known Namjoon for two decades - that’s a long time. The onlyperson who knows more about him than you, is his own mother. And even then, you know probably just as much as she does.

“That’s a joke right. You literally cannot be serious. You know nothing about him. Nothing,” you spit back, your anger finally getting to you. Of course, your words are said in the heat of the moment, but you mean them - because they’re true. She knows next to nothing about him - especially since you know she forces her own opinions and personality onto him. Another reason you do not like her.

“I know things!” Jihee seethes back. Her voice is slightly shrill, and loud enough that you send a quick glance at the two spare rooms. Namjoon is in the shower - so hopefully- he won’t be able to hear this argument. Hoseok’s room is shut, and you can hear the soft tempo of his music coming from behind - so you’re not too worried about him listening in either.

Turning back to Jihee, you fold your hands across your chest and regard her cooly. “What’s his favourite breakfast?” you ask, all of a sudden.

“W-what?” Jihee stutters, a look of confusion colouring her features.

“You heard me, if you know so much about him, what’s his favourite breakfast?” you repeat.

“That’s easy. Poached eggs and toast - we go to brunch all the time, you know,” she replies haughtily.

“No. It’s any sugary cereal. In particular, he likes Lucky Marshmallows with extramarshmallows. Sometimes he literally saves all the marshmallows for last just so he can eat an entire bowl of them,” you reply easily.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Jihee tries to cut in but you shake your head.

“For your one month anniversary,” you begin, internally cringing - really, they’ve only been together three months, so why she had wanted to celebrate a month, you do not understand, “you booked a seafood restaurant,” you continue.

“He likes seafood!” Jihee cuts in.

“Not as food, he likes them as pets - or to collect them - but he doesn’t like eating them. You constantly want to join him on his walks - but sometimes he needs to be alone,” you begin. You don’t know why you do it, but all of a sudden, you find yourself laying into her.

Sucking in a deep breath, you continue, “I know you met him at an art exhibition, and Iknow that he loves music, and art and philosophy and I know you share those together. But those aren’t the only aspects of his personality.” Briefly, you pause, your eyes slightly tearing up. However, rather than letting it get to you, you blink them away.

“Namjoon- he’s a huge dork. He’s more than those selective interests that you’ve singled out. He grows bonsai in his spare time and names all of them and speaks to them. He easily gets distracted by different animals - like frogs, or squirrels or chipmunks - and he always needs to stop and try to pick them up. He eats spoonfuls of sugar when he thinks no one is around. He loves cute things and buys more Kaws and Ryan or Brown plushies than a grown man needs. He can be whiny, and petty, and sometimes borderline childish but it’s who he is.”

Again, you stop, your chest heaving in the slightest from your sudden rant. You have no idea what overcame you, but the moment you’d started speaking, it had felt like a dam had burst. Jihee simply stands stock still, looking at you in disbelief. Letting out a deep breath, you run your fingers through your hair. “That is who he will always be and you cannot change who he is - or pick and choose aspects that you like. If you honestly want to be with him, if you have any feelings for him - you will understand that he is perfect the way he is. You should love him for who he is,” you finally finish. Desperately, you want to throw the words ‘Like I do’ but you can’t. Instead, you left them unsaid.

With your little spiel well and truly done, silence falls over the room. Jihee regards you coldly, her eyes glazed with passiveness, and her face an expression of stoic calmness. But then, she grits her teeth, and with a low voice, “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. Because he’s dating me not you,” she hisses out. Her words are low, barely above a whisper, and yet the heavy scorn tears through you. Her words cut you like a knife, leaving your chest numb and your heart aching with hurt.

Unable to say anything, you simply bite your lips. Fists clenched to the side of your body, your knuckles turn white and you simply stare at each other. Repeatedly, you open your mouth to argue - to say something - but you know she’s right. It doesn’t matter if you know Namjoon, or that you’ve been his best friend for over two years. All that matters is that he still chose her - that she’s his girlfriend.

Nonetheless, before you can say anything, Namjoon pops out of his bedroom - hair slightly damp and dressed for the day. Smiling gently at Jihee, he walks over to her before beckoning her towards the door. Jihee returns his smile, her eyes briefly flashing with smugness as she looks at you. Throat tight, you attempt to turn away. However, just as you do, Namjoon smiles tightly at you.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” he says, before guiding Jihee out of the apartment - leaving you alone.

That night, you sit on the couch - a fluffy blanket thrown over your lap - and Hoseok beside you, as you both idly flick through your phones. The two of you sit in complete silence, Hoseok laughing quietly and showing you a funny picture on his timeline, before turning back to his own phone. Time moves past slowly, and every now and then, your gaze flicks to the entrance of your flat, and you silently wonder when Namjoon will come home. Or if he was even coming home tonight.

Nonetheless, you don’t have to wait any longer - because, all of a sudden, the doorknob is twisting and Namjoon walks through. Eyebrows scrunching in befuddlement, you watch as he drags his feet into your apartment. Shrugging off his jacket, he stays quiet, his shoulders slumped as he kicks off his shoes.

“Joon? You okay?” you ask, worry evident in your voice as you sit up. Namjoon only hums casually, but other than that he doesn’t say anything. Dread flits through you, your stomach dropping at his lacklustre posture.

Then, “I’m going to go to bed, yeah?” he says, before shuffling into his room. His door slams shut softly, and you feel your heart sink into your chest. You simply can’t shake off the feeling that your argument with Jihee has something to do with Namjoon’s upset. Once he’s safely behind his closed door, you blink owlishly and turn to Hoseok, the two of you looking at each other in worry.

Gaze flicking to his shut bedroom door, “Do you think something happened?” you whisper lowly as you bite your lip in nervousness.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s about your fight with Jihee,” Hoseok casually replies with a shrug. Taken aback, you look at him in a mix of trepidation and confusion. His words had only confirmed your suspicion that it was something to do with your earlier argument.

“Do you think he heard?”

Hoseok sighs at your question. “Honestly, if I heard it over my music, he definitely heard it in the shower. But- I can’t say for sure. You’re going to have to ask him yourself,” he replies - almost diplomatically.

“If he heard then I don’t think he’s going to want to speak to me right now,” you point out. However, your words only cause Hoseok to scoff.

“Please, the day Joon doesn’t want to talk to you, is the day hell literally freezes over. When have either of you ever had an argument that has lasted more than a couple of hours?” Hoseok questions, his perfectly sculpted eyebrow rising slightly.

You open your mouth to respond, before pausing. Eyebrows furrowed, you struggle to try and remember a time the two of you hadn’t spoken for longer than a few hours. You and Namjoon fight, of course you do, however, they’ve never really been serious - and you’ve always made up eventually. The two of you just couldn’t bear to be apart. Seeing the dawning look of realisation on your face, Hoseok lets out a soft chuckle.

“Exactly. Just go speak to him - I’m sure you’re overthinking it anyway,” Hoseok encourages. Smiling gently at him, you nod and throw the blanket off of you.

Padding over to Namjoon’s room, you knock on the door tentatively. From behind the wooden frame, Namjoon grunts, and taking it as a sign of entry, you walk into his bedroom. The moment you see him, you bite your lip, your heart clinching in anguish. He’s sat up in bed, dressed in his pyjamas, and casually scrolling through his phone. His speakers blear music softly, faint acoustic beats thrumming through the quiet bedroom. Stepping further into his room, you call out to him softly.

“Namjoon… is everything okay?” you ask, shuffling nervously in place.

With a sigh, “Jihee and I decided it was best to stop seeing each other,” Namjoon replies. Blood running cold, you look at him in a mixture of shock and barely concealed hope. However, swiftly, you suppress them - you need to be there for your best friend right now.

Tentatively, “You broke up? Why?” you ask.

“We weren’t really together to break up, we were just dating,” Namjoon replies. Then, eyeing your apprehensive state in amusement, “you can join me you know,” Namjoon says as he pats the spot next to him.

Breathing out in relief, you quickly cross his room and join him on the bed. You shuffle in next to him, Namjoon automatically throwing the covers over you. Once you’re settled down, you curl your hands in your lap and turn to look at him. “Do you want to talk about it? You never answered why you broke up,” you point out, your voice low.

Namjoon hums before lolling his head back to rest against the wall. He stares at the ceiling as if it were the most interesting thing for a couple of moments. Then, “I heard your argument with her,” he confesses.

A sad smile curls on your face, and with downcast eyes, you stare at your hands. “I feared as much. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep or anything… I just- she didn’t seem right for you, I guess,” you admit. Because I’m the right one for you. The words echo in your mind, but again, you push them far back into your head. You do not need to dwell on that right now.

“Hmm. Well, you’re right. There was too much about us that clashed… which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But at the same time, I didn’t feel comfortable being myself around her either,” he says. “I’m not upset at you or anything by the way. If anything, I’m grateful. If you hadn’t said what you had, I probably wouldn’t have realised how unhappy I was with her,” Namjoon admits with a tender smile.

“I still feel bad…” you begin.

However, Namjoon cuts you off. “I didn’t have feelings for her. She’d seen me at the museum a couple of times and asked me out. I didn’t really notice until she came up to me,” he chuckles lightly. Your eyes soften at that. Namjoon is beautiful, and if anyone were to ask you, you’d tell them that he was the ideal man. With his soft, devastatingly handsome looks, and his tender heart and enigmatic brain, Namjoon is yourideal man. But he’d never really appreciated his own charm - he never really understood why women were so attracted to him. More than anything, he barely even recognised when women flirted with him. It was endearing, really.

“Why did you say yes, then?” you ask curiously.

Namjoon pauses at that. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes before turning back to the ceiling. He’d never admit it out loud, but the reason he’d said yes was because of your kiss, all those months ago. The moment he’d felt your lips on his, he’d been electrified and dazed - and for the first time in a while - his brain had completely shut down and he hadn’t been able to act. But by the time he’d processed it, ready to press his lips harder into yours and really taste you, you were already pulling away and apologising.

The very second your mouth had brushed his, Namjoon knew you were the one for him. Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could feel the tingle over his lips, and your warm breath wafting over his chin. Contrary to your beliefs, Namjoon did, in fact, notice the attention girls paid him. He just didn’t care. Mainly because his heart already belonged to you. Admittedly, falling in love with your best friend was the world’s most cliche move - but he just couldn’t help it. No one compared to you.

So when you’d pulled away like that, he couldn’t help the way his heart had yearned for you, and he knew he had to at least try to move on. Which is where Jihee had come in. Nevertheless, no matter how much Jihee loved art, or philosophy, it didn’t matter - because she wasn’t you. She’s not you and he never really could stop comparing the two of you to each other. It wasn’t fair on either of you - particularly because he knew he’d never love anyone the way he loves you. And your argument with Jihee had only cemented that.

When he’d overheard your exchange, he’d been shocked. Of course, he knew that you’d known a lot about him, but having you admit so clearly and so boldly that she should love him for him - for every aspect that made him: the good and the bad. Well, it only had him falling deeper for you. So, when Jihee had bought up your less than conventional friendship, and how the tactility between the two of you made her uncomfortable - well, he’d known he had to end it with her there.

Not only because she’d been uncomfortable with his friendship with you - really, why had she ever thought he’d give you up for her? You’ve been in his life twenty years, he’d only known her around three months - but she’d also wanted him to stop being so physical with you. Thus, Namjoon had decided it was best for the two of them to part ways. Also because, well, he’s in love with you. But that’s neither here nor there - especially since you don’t feel the same way.

At one point, he thought you had. Nonetheless, after your kiss, he’s not so sure. And he’s not willing to risk your friendship either. You mean far too much to him to risk anything without any certainty that you felt the same way.

“Joon?” you softly call out, dragging him from his own musings. “You never responded,” you continue.

Biting his lips, “Just because,” he responds. No. He could not admit his feelings for you. At the very least, not now.

It’s the middle of August, when you find yourself in Namjoon’s family’s log cabin on Jeju Island. As usual, the family had decided to take their yearly trip to the island, and like every other year, you had been extended an invite by Namjoon’s parents. His family and you are currently gathered around the garden while Namjoon’s dad barbeques some meat. Your best friend stands beside you, the two of you idly chatting with his parents.

“So, ____, are you seeing anyone?” Namjoon’s dad asks all of a sudden. The question surprises you, causing you to choke on the piece of meat you’d just been swallowing. Namjoon’s mom looks pointedly at her husband before lightly patting your back. However, she can’t help but notice the way her son stiffens beside you, his gaze narrowed onto his own plate.

Managing to swallow the piece of meat, you turn to Namjoon’s dad, “No, I’m not Mr. Kim, why?” you ask. Namjoon’s dad simply smiles, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

“I was just wondering. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, after all. I know Namjoon was seeing someone a little while ago, but Yunmi mentioned they broke up,” Namjoon’s dad answers casually. Both you and Namjoon stiffen at that. Momentarily, you look at each other before looking away.

“Dad,” Namjoon begins, but swiftly, you cut him off.

“Ah, well, I’m not. I just… haven’t met the right guy yet, you know?” you reply awkwardly. You have met the right guy, he just doesn’t reciprocate your feelings. At your words, once again the two of you glance at each other before turning away. Your ears burn slightly, and picking up your chopsticks, you place another piece of meat into your mouth. From beside you, Namjoon’s gaze shifts to you briefly, a flicker of yearning flitting through his eyes.

Namjoon’s mother stares at the two of you knowingly, a soft smile gracing her face. Really, for as long as she’s known you, she’s been hoping that you and Namjoon would end up together. Yet, for years now, both her and her husband have watched the two of you dance around each other; your relationship clearly more than platonic, and yet neither of you doing anything about it. However, she knows that somehow, eventually, the two of you would end up together. She knew the day Namjoon had come home - back when he was merely sixteen - complaining about the boy you had a crush on.

“Are you sure? There’s this nice boy I know, I can introduce you to-” Namjoon’s dad begins. Instantly, Namjoon’s head snaps up and he looks at his father in a mix of despair and betrayal. Next to him, you stand rigid, your ears burning with embarrassment.

Sensing your awkwardness, “That’s enough, Hongjoon. I’m sure Namjoon and ____ don’t want to spend their time speaking about relationships. Just grill the meat,” Namjoon’s mother chastises, her husband only sending her a knowing grin in response.

“Very well, very well. Do you want some grilled shrimp, Namjoon?” Hongjoon asks, holding out a skewer of prawns towards his son. Namjoon looks at his father in horror, and quickly, you’re taking the skewer from his dad.

“Mr Kim, Namjoon doesn’t eat seafood, remember? However, I’d be happy to have them. Here, Joon, you can have this beef- I won’t be able to eat the shrimp too,” you easily say, passing over your meat towards him. Yunmi looks at her husband, knowing full well he’d done it purposely, however, Hongjoon just sends her an innocent smile before turning back to his grill. When a giggle resounds through the air, she turns her attention back to the two of you.

“Joon, how do you manage to get the sauce all over you? Honestly. Here,” you chide. Then, picking up a tissue, you gently dab the corner of his mouth. Yunmi watches the way you lean into each other, Namjoon standing completely still as he lets you wipe the sauce from his lips. Her eyes flicking over her son, she can’t help but smile at the way he softly watches you - nothing but tender love and affection present in his eyes.

Really, with how often you both act like a couple, she has no idea how you aren’t together yet. Unable to stop herself, “isn’t that adorable,” she coos. Both of you still, your hand midway in the air while Namjoon looks at his mother in annoyance. “Sorry, sorry. It just reminds me of when you both were younger, and the two of you would play house,” Namjoon’s mother reminisces.

“Mom- why would you bring that up?” Namjoon whines, his usually deep voice slightly higher than usual. You don’t say anything, instead, just biting your lip fondly. You remember those days - when you and Namjoon would run around pretending to be husband and wife, with your stuffed teddy bear playing your son. Briefly, you send him a side glance, your heart constricting within your chest. For the longest time, you’ve imagined your future with Namjoon. Though, you know it will never come to fruition.

“Because, Namjoon, you used to always run around saying that you would eventually marry ____. It’s nice to see that your friendship hasn’t changed though, and you’re still close - even if ____ has to look after you all the time,” Namjoon’s mum says, smiling playfully at her son.

Ignoring her first statement, “Hey! I look after her too, you know,” Namjoon splutters in indignation.

That has you scoffing and playfully rolling your eyes. “Oh please, let’s not forget that I almost had to take you to the ER because you got your fingers stuck in one of those Chinese finger puzzles,” you snort back.

Namjoon’s mother blinks in surprise, and a smirk curling on her face, “did he now? ____, you have to tell me all about it,” Yunmi says. The two of you let out twin - borderline terrifying - giggles, Namjoon simply groaning and throwing his head back.

He’d forgotten how close you and his mother were - and that frequently, you’d gang up against him. Though, watching the two of you easily speak to each other, he knows he wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if it came at his own expense.

Jogging down the stairs from your room, you look for Namjoon. The two of you had plans to go on a walk along the beach, however, he had yet to come and find you. Thus, growing tired of waiting for your best friend, you decide to find him yourself. Softly padding to the kitchen, you briefly pause when you realise he’s in there with his mother. She’s currently chopping carrots, Namjoon sitting at the island with a cup of tea in his hands.

“I don’t see why you don’t just do it. Your father and I have said we support you multiple times,” his mother sighs. Your eyebrows furrow slightly, and you find yourself hiding behind the wall. You know you shouldn’t be eavesdropping on their conversation, but you simply can’t help yourself. Besides, Namjoon’s mother’s words have you growing curious about their topic of conversation.

“I’ve already told you-” Namjoon tries arguing, but his mother cuts him off mid-sentence,

“Namjoon, you keep denying it, but your father and I have watched the two of you dance around each other for years. You cannot tell me that you are just friends. Friends don’t act the way the two of you do, you know,” Yunmi says pointedly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Namjoon asks, his head cocking to the side. Your stomach flips as you realise that they’re talking about the two of you. Shuffling further behind the wall, you press your back towards it as you continue listening in.

“It means that friends don’t hold hands because it feels comfortable, or they don’t wipe sauce from the other’s lips, and they certainly don’t cuddle together while sharing the same bed. Which,” Yunmi begins, emphasising her word when Namjoon opens his mouth to argue, “is not something your father and I have a problem with, by the way. We both like ____, we’ve known her for a long time. We know you’ll look after each other and you’ll be happy together. So why haven’t you done anything about it? We just want you to be happy, Namjoon,” Yunmi finishes.

You bite your lips at her words, your stomach flipping in a mixture of hope and nervousness. Fingers shaking slightly, you hold your breath as you await Namjoon’s response. Then, you hear him sigh and you feel your world crumble around you.

“Yeah, but mom, it’s not like that. We’re not like that. We’re just friends,” Namjoon replies. Harshly, you press your teeth down onto your lip, chewing it so intensely you fear you’ll draw blood. However, it’s the only thing keeping you from letting out a sob. Namjoon’s words replay over and over in your mind. Of course, you always knew he’d felt that way - but having it confirming it so casually, has your heart breaking.

Not wanting to listen in any longer, you silently turn around and rush back up the stairs - being as quiet as you possibly can. Once you’re up the stairs, you enter the room you’re currently sharing with Namjoon before softly shutting the door. Taking a deep breath, you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat - your breath laboured as you try to stop yourself from breaking out into sobs.

Walking further into the room, you take a seat onto the bed before whipping out your phone. In times like these, you’d usually call Namjoon to comfort you - but considering he’s the reason you’re hurt - you know you can’t do that. So, instead, you quickly open your contacts and call the next best thing - Jung Hoseok. Pressing the call button by his contact name, you lift the phone to your ear. With the phone ringing in your eardrum, you quietly will him to pick up, urgently needing someone to speak to.

“Hello?” Hoseok’s sweet voice comes across the phone.

“Hoseok,” you breathe out.

“____? Are you okay? What’s wrong? Where’s Namjoon?” Hoseok asks, alarm evident in his voice as he hears the heavy emotion in yours.

“I’m fine… Somewhat. I just- I needed someone to speak to, and it can’t be Namjoon,” you reply breathily. Realising there’s no reason to panic, Hoseok calms down.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” he asks gently. His sweet voice echoes through your ears, calming you down. Other than Namjoon - Hoseok was really the only one who could soothe you when you’re upset. “Just breathe in deeply, ____. It’ll be fine,” he continues calmly. Nodding, you take in a deep breath, the lump in your throat relaxing a little.

“I just heard Namjoon tell his mother that we’re just friends… and I don’t know what to do anymore. I- I thought I’d be fine just being his friend, but after that kiss, and then Jihee-” you begin, however, Hoseok cuts you off with a yelp.

“Kiss?! What kiss?” he practically shrieks, his shrill voice causing you to wince. Though, despite the situation, you find yourself laughing.

“Ah- I forgot you didn’t know. When we were at Seoraksan, when Joon and I disappeared, we kissed. It wasn’t anything major but-” you begin.

“Nothing major?! Dude, you kissed the guy you’ve been in love with for years. That’s pretty fucking major. What happened? Why aren’t you together?” he quickly fires off, curiosity clear in his voice.

“Can we not do this now? It just happened and then I pulled away and apologised-” you try explaining.

“You apologised? Why would you do that?” Hoseok bursts out.

Sighing in annoyance, “Hoseok! That’s not the problem!” you seethe. Your voice breaks through the phone with a hiss, causing Hoseok to quieten down on the other side.

“Oh- yes. You’re right. But I will be asking for all the details later. Anyway, why did you call? What happened?” he questions once again.

“I just overheard Namjoon telling his mother we’re just friends… and I don’t know if I can be here anymore. I- it’s so hard. Pretending that I don’t want to be more and that I’m not in love with him. I just- I don’t want to be just friends anymore and it sucks,” you reply, your voice heavy with emotion.

“Well, why don’t you just tell him that? Like, I’m pretty sure Joon’s in love with you too, you know?” Hoseok says softly.

Unable to help yourself, you let out a snort. “That’s really rich, Hobi. What the fuck am I supposed to say? Hey, Namjoon! I’ve been in love with you for years now and I want to be more than friends? Even though I just heard him tell his mother-” you begin ranting.

However, you stop when you hear Namjoon's deep voice tear through the bedroom: “You what?”

Blood freezing, your entire body goes rigid. The moment his voice registers in your eardrums, you whip around, your eyes wide as you spot your best friend. “Namjoon,” you breathe out heavily. Despair floods through you, your ears burning as you feel your stomach sink.

“Hoseok, I’ll call you back… I have to go,” you quickly say before hanging up. Then, turning around, you hop off of the bed, “Namjoon, it’s not-” you begin, your mind running a mile a minute as you try to think of something to say. Would you even be able to say anything? To salvage your friendship with him? Or had you just unknowingly ruined it all?

“Did you mean it? Do you love me?” Namjoon asks. Repetitively, like a broken record, the words play over and over in his mind - filling him with a mix of confusion, elation and relief.

“I- Namjoon,” you try, but Namjoon simply shakes his head. In an instant, he crosses the room - until he’s right in front of you. You jerk at the sudden movement, your neck straining as you look up at him.

“Did you mean it? Please, ____, I need to know,” Namjoon exhales deeply. Left reeling by the sheer emotion in his voice, the desperation, the yearning, the tenderness - you can’t help but blink, unable to figure out what any of it means. He looks down at you intensely, his warm brown eyes leaving you captivated.

Breathing heavily, you bite your lip. Then, gathering every ounce of courage you have, you throw caution to the wind. He’d already heard you anyway. “Yes. I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember,” you confess - nothing but sincere earnestness present in your voice.

The minute the words leave your lips, Namjoon’s lips crash down onto yours. For a sliver of a moment, your eyes widen in shock, however, as quickly as it comes, it goes, and soon, your eyes are slipping shut.

Loosely, his hand moves to grip your neck, as you lift your chin higher - so you can press your lips harder into his - while your hands fist into his shirt. His free hand drops to wind around your waist, and in one swift movement, he pulls your body flush against his. Gasping at the motion, Namjoon uses the opportunity to slip his tongue between your teeth, your lips parting further in response. Indolently, his silky appendage swipes across yours, curling around your tongue and gently massaging it.

Electrified by his kiss, you moan into his mouth, your chin lifting higher as you press your lips harder against his. Mouths moving in tandem, you lose yourself into the intoxicating feel of his lips against yours. The soft petals of his mouth are soft, and as pillowy as you remember; albeit a little chapped, but you don’t mind so much. No - because the slight abrasion only adds to the feel of your kiss.

When you feel his tongue flick against yours, your hands uncurl from his shirt - only to wind up his chest, along his throat, towards the nape of his neck. Further and further, you sink into Namjoon: his body pressed flat against yours, his saccharine taste coating your tastebuds, and his warm breath wafting over your face. You can’t help but find yourself drowning into him - his entire presence encasing your senses as you lose yourself deep into his entire being.

Both of you lose track of time, your tongues gliding and sliding against each other, both of you consumed wholly by the other. Lost in your own selves, you feel nothing but each other - want to feel nothing but each other - and soon, the rest of the world fades into the background. There’s a soft ache in your lungs - your chest aching from the lack of oxygen, but you don’t care. No - right now, breathing is the last thing on your mind. In fact, the only thing you can think of is Namjoon, and the intoxicating sensation of his tongue against yours.

Nonetheless, eventually, your lungs begin to burn - the lack of oxygen searing through your chest. When the sweltering ache grows too much to be ignored, the two of you pull away - breathing harshly against each other. Your eyes stay closed as you gasp for air, both your breaths mingling together and circulating the air. Your lips are slightly swollen, and as you flick out your tongue to soothe them, you can’t help but whimper at the aftertaste of his essence on your mouth: the flavour only deepened by his breath fanning your face.

With your eyes closed, you still feel him linger around you - his calming presence washing over you and soothing your earlier hurt. Swallowing thickly, the two of you gradually open your eyes - coming face to face with each other. You’re still only a hairsbreadth away, his mouth ghosting against yours in tender brushes. Gaze meeting his, you search his eyes for something - anything - even just an inkling of the emotions you feel for him. And as usual, Namjoon doesn’t disappoint.

He smiles gently at you, the soft tip of his nose brushing yours as he repetitively presses affectionate kisses to your lips. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that?” he breathes out.

“W-What…? I thought- you told your mother-” you stammer out, confused by the entire situation.

“You’re an idiot you know,” Namjoon chuckles. Instantly, your face falls, ire rising in your chest. But before you can say anything, Namjoon shakes his head and presses his lips to yours, “I’m an idiot too. This entire time, I thought you didn’t feel the same - so I kept telling myself that we were just friends,” Namjoon admits. Then, he pauses, “but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to be more either,” he confesses.

Your heart swells with happiness, a bright grin gracing your face. Then, you still. A sliver of confusion enters your eyes, and your features knit in the slightest, “but… that day in Seoraksan… you didn’t reciprocate,” you point out. Namjoon lets out a low, mirthless laugh.

“Is that why you pulled away and apologised?” he asks. When you nod, he just sighs and shakes his head, “I wasn’t expecting it ____, and by the time I realised what was happening, you were already pulling away and apologising. But- I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to pull you closer and kiss you harder. I wanted you that day, more than you’ll know,” he admits. Face crumpling with emotion, realisation dawns over you - the epiphany crashing over you like a pile of bricks.

Laughing, “we’re idiots, aren’t we? Have we been in love this entire time?” you ask, biting your lip to try and swallow down the smile. Namjoon matches your laugh, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through your entire being. You close your eyes and let it wash over you, the sound bringing peace to your very soul.

“Yeah, we have. But- better late than never, right?” Namjoon chuckles.

Nodding eagerly, you let out the laugh that bubbles up in your chest, “I love you,” you confess once again.

Unhesitantly, “I love you too. So fucking much,” Namjoon responds. Then, the hand gripping your neck curls tighter, and he’s dipping his head down again.

Pressing his lips to yours again, you can’t help but sigh. It’s a little different than before - slow, with a lower undercurrent of urgency. Moaning into his kiss, you press yourself harder against him, your fingers carding into the hair as the base of his neck. Gripping the roots of his locks, you attempt to deepen the kiss, Namjoon lightly chuckling into your mouth when you whine in protest. Slowly, Namjoon pulls you backwards, stopping when the backs of his knees hit the bed.

Indolently, his large hands trace along your spine, his palms trailing along your covered flesh. Every single one of his touches sets your skin aflame with desire, heat settling deep within the pits of your abdomen. Taking a step closer, you moan into his mouth when you feel his hardening shaft against the soft of your belly - involuntarily grinding against it. Your movements cause him to let out a strained grunt, and breaking away from your kiss, he groans out your name.

Lust coursing through your bloodstream, you begin peppering kisses along the sharp outline of his jaw - your lips tracing the edge. Responsively, Namjoon’s hands drop to your hips, his hands splaying across your ass before pulling you flush against him. The two of you writhe together - your lower abdomen squirming against the outline of his growing bulge. Fists moving to curl around his shirt, your eyelids flutter as you feel him lightly palm at your ass - his fingers flexing and gripping the supple cheeks.

Your mouth parts open, and you let out a slew of breathy moans - heat pooling deep within your loins as you find yourself growing wetter. Dipping his head down, Namjoon buries his face into the crook of your neck - his pillowy lips tenderly roving over the skin. “J-Joon,” you stutteringly whimper, your eyes rolling back when he playfully nips your skin. Puckering his lips, he presses them to the sensitive spot just below your ear before sucking harshly. Responsively, a low mew resounds from your lips. In the wake of his kisses and light nips, you have no doubt he’s leaving hickeys over your flesh: mauve and rose marks blooming over your skin.

Sighing under him, “I want you,” you mumble quietly.

Namjoon runs his nose down the column of your throat before outlining the shape of your collarbone. When he reaches just below your chin - where your two clavicles meet, he bites down softly - making you whimper out his name. Lazily, he flicks out his tongue, the wet appendage gliding soothingly over your stinging flesh. Then, pulling away, “I want you too,” he mutters back. His cool breath fans against your flushed skin, the wet spot on your flesh evaporating, causing you to shudder.

“Then take me,” you groan back - nothing but want and earnestness in your voice.

The moment the words slip out, Namjoon’s fingers firmly dig into your ass, and then, he’s lifting you up. Yelping at the sudden movement, you quickly brace yourself onto his shoulders, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. You feel him manoeuvre the two of you onto the bed - until you’re both in the middle. Letting you go, he gently puts you onto the bed - and when your knees are firmly against the mattress he lets you go.

The two of you kneel on the bed; your hands tracing up his toned chest - feeling every defined muscle under his shirt - and towards his face. Cupping his chin, you pull him in for another kiss - desperately needing to feel his lips against yours once again. Automatically, Namjoon dips his head down, his mouth chasing yours as both your tongues begin gliding against each other.

Feverishly, your hands begin roaming over each other - hot lust clouding your minds as your kiss grows fervent with desire. Urgently, your hands roam over each other - Namjoon’s large palms pushing under the hem of your dress and over your bare thigh under he reaches the junction between your thighs. Boldly, he presses his hand to your panty-clad folds, and the sudden touch has you breaking your kiss with a surprised cry.

Soft whine spilling from your lip, you grind into his hand, your walls clenching as you feel him softly stroke your folds. The heat between your thighs is uncomfortable, and radiates so strongly that Namjoon can’t help but hiss - the knuckle of his thumb imperceptibly caressing your throbbing clit. Skin flashing with heat, you pull away from him briefly, and before he can even comprehend what’s happening, you’re gripping the hem of your dress and taking it off of you.

The moment your scantily covered body greets his eyes, Namjoon lets out a strained groan - his eyes roaming over your flesh. Your body is not new to him - no, in fact, he’s seen you in various states of undress at different points in your friendship. Nonetheless, it’s different now; your chest heaves as you gasp for air, and your heavily lidded eyes: gaze turbulent with lust. Intense eyes rove over your body, Namjoon practically drinking you in.

Growing wetter under his heavy stare, you feel your inner walls clench - your nipples twisting to hardness under the lace cups of your bra. “Namjoon,” you breathe out heavily. Wantonness thick in your voice, Namjoon quickly sheds off his own clothing - your mouth drying when you see the muscles of his biceps bugle as he removes his t-shirt. Cool air wafts over your heated skin and goosebumps prickle over your flesh, causing you to shudder. However, it only lasts a moment because Namjoon is swiftly pulling you flush against him,

Warm skin melding together, you cry out in pleasure when your hard nipples brush against his chest through the rough material of your bra. The friction sends spikes of lust straight to your core, a gush of wetness seeping through your pussy before soaking into the material of your underwear. Dropping his head to your shoulder, Namjoon runs his soft lips over your flesh; peppering kisses onto your skin. Meanwhile, his hands move back to grasp your ass - caressing and kneading the flesh in his large palms.

Your own shaky hands push between your bodies: trembling digits falling to the waistband of Namjoon’s jeans as you attempt to undo the button. Finally managing to pop the button, you desperately push the rough material of his trousers down his hips. When you struggle to remove them from you, Namjoon pushes you away. Flopping bonelessly onto the bed as you watch him rid himself of his trousers. When he’s left in nothing but his boxers, your mouth practically salivates.

As if magnetically drawn, your eyes instinctively fall to his hips, and you suck in a sharp breath at the sight. The defined ‘v’ of his hips leads to his boxer-clad shorts - his cock pressed to the side of his thigh by his tight underwear. Throat constricting, your eyes widen slightly at the shape of it - even through his underwear, he looks huge: the thick girth pressed against his toned left thigh. As you continue practically leering at him, Namjoon crawls over you. Instinctively, your thighs part, allowing him to crawl between them.

His hands brace on either side of you, the strong muscles of his arms twitch as he bears the entirety of his body weight on them. Arms shooting up, you run them over his naked shoulders before carding into his hair as you tug him further over you. A soft gasp slips from your mouth when his weight presses over you: his defined chest over yours and his hips pressing into yours in the most enticing way. Hands entwined into his hair, you watch the way the ambient light encases him in an amber halo, your eyes softening at the sight.

Straining your neck, you attach your lips to his once again, pouring all the love you feel for him into your kiss. Languidly, Namjoon’s tongue slides over your lips, the motion causing you to sigh. He’s sweet on your tongue; his honeyed essence bathing your tastebuds until he’s all you can feel. This time, your lips move slowly - mouths moving softly in tandem with each other as your tongues slide against the other leisurely.

Namjoon shifts above you - the movement causes his heated erection to brush against the thin, soaked material of your underwear. Reflexively, you buck into him - causing Namjoon to hiss. Shifting above you, Namjoon’s hands trail over your thighs. Then, hooking your legs around his waist, he’s suddenly flipping you over. Yelping in surprise at the abrupt movement, you fall into him; Namjoon’s arm loosely wrapping around your naked waist.

In your new position, he sits with his back against the headboard; your thighs straddling his hips. Namjoon’s warm hand indolently drifts down your waist, until it rests comfortably in the curve of your spine. Shifting into a more comfortable position, you sit on his lap - both of you groaning when your cores press together. Responsively, Namjoon bucks up into you, the action causing you to shudder.

“Namjoon,” you whine, your hips squirming over his.

“What do you want, baby?” Namjoon asks, his neck straining up to brush his lips against yours.

“I want you,” you reply easily. A smile curls on his lips, and playfully, he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth. Sucking the soft flesh, he rakes his teeth over the swollen petal, making you sough into his mouth.

Simultaneously, Namjoon’s hands drop to your hips, and gripping them, he pushes your pelvis down - so that your wet, covered folds are flat against his cock. The movement causes you both to cry: you - at the intoxicating feel of his throbbing cock around your weeping sex, and Namjoon - at the wet heat pressing into his hardness.

“F-Fuck, Joon,” you mewl. Hips moving of their own accord, you begin grinding your heated cunt against his hard shaft. The skimpy material of your panties hinders nothing, and easily, you feel his cock - hot and pulsing, through the material of both your underwear. Namjoon’s hands trail to your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh as he begins moving you over him. Instinctively, the two of you fall into a synchronous rhythm, your hips writhing together in frantic movement as you lose yourself into your pleasure.

“God, baby, you’re so fucking hot… and wet. How are you this wet?” Namjoon groans - the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through the air. Fingers digging harder into your ass, he gyrates harder into you, soft grunts and pants escaping his lips as he feels your wet heat against his cock. “Fuck- that’s it, baby. Grind all over my cock - you feel so good,” Namjoon moans, his head falling back. The soft murmurs of his voice rip through the silent room, the sounds of his own pleasure intermingling with yours.

Your hands fall to his shoulders, and using them as leverage, you begin pushing your hips harder into his. With every brush of his cock between your folds, you can’t help but grow wetter - your toes curling in pleasure. Namjoon watches you practically bounce on his cock - the top swells of your breast rippling with each movement. Unable to help himself, he moves his hands to unclasp your bra. When you feel the elasticated band loosen, the strap falling down your shoulder, you move your hands from his shoulders - divesting the brassier off of you.

Breasts free, and swaying with every one of your movements, Namjoon finds himself entranced by the sight. From his position under you, he leans forward and wraps his lips against the right peak, pulling the hardened bud into his mouth and gently sucking. The moment you feel his plush lips around your nipple, you cry out his name. Pussy clenching around nothing, you whimper at the ache between your thighs.

“Fuck, Namjoooon,” you whine - drawing out the syllables of his name. Indolently, his tongue swirls around your nipple - tracing its outline over and over again, while he simultaneously suckles at it. His hands are back on your ass - holding the plump flesh in his large hands while squeezing and spreading them apart.

Pleasure seeps into your veins, and you begin grinding more feverishly against him. Short gasps of pleasure slip from your lips, the friction of your sodden lace panties and his cotton boxers slowly driving you wild. You have no doubt that you’re dripping now - the material of his boxers soaked enough to leave damp trails of your wetness onto the fabric. Your stomach twists - the heat inside causing your stomach to flip and turn with every one of your movements.

Hands braced on his shoulders, you dig your fingernails into the thick muscle - Namjoon grunting at the slight pain. When he unexpectedly bites down on your nipple, rolling the peak between his teeth - your cunt clenches painfully and you sob out his name. “M-More, please. I-I need more,” you whimper. Hearing the desperation in your voice, Namjoon takes pity on your form.

Hand slipping down between your thighs, you feel him push your hips off of his cock. A whine of protest slips through your lips, your walls clenching as they ache for the feel of his cock - however, your displeasure only lasts a few moments. Pressing his fingers against your folds, Namjoon lazily begins stroking his fingers through your covered slit - causing you to whimper out his name.

“Fuck- you’ve soaked through your panties, baby. Do you want my cock this much?” Namjoon asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. It’s all you can do to nod eagerly, you hips pressing harder into his hand.

“J-Joonie- more,” you helplessly mewl, squirming into his fingers.

Namjoon chuckles from under you, but gives into you. Pushing the gusset of your underwear to the side, his fingers stroke through your naked folds, causing you to hiss and drop your head onto his shoulder. Tenderly, Namjoon traces the outline of your folds - completely in awe of how absolutely sodden they are. He’s barely even touched your entrance, yet thick, filmy strings of your wetness coat the pads of his digits.

“God- I’ve dreamt of what your pussy would feel like - but I never thought it’d be this good,” Namjoon admits - his thumb moving to stroke your hardened clit. The sensation of the pad of his thumb swiping against your swollen, needy bud causing you to buck into him, you cunt contracting around nothing.

Twisting your hand between your bodies, you push his boxers down all of a sudden. Abruptly, his cock springs out before the heavy length falls onto his lower abdomen. In an instant, your palm is stroking the thick length, your mouth watering as you admire his shaft. The velvet length is long, and incredibly girthy, and you have no doubt that he’s going to stretch you out deliciously. Experimentally, you wrap your fingers around before gently squeezing.

Namjoon rolls his eyes at your ministration - the action eliciting a short gasp from his lips as he bucks into your hand. Dropping his head to your chest, you feel him nuzzle the top swells of your breast, while he lightly presses tender kisses into your flesh. Between your thighs, his fingers rove further down your slit, until his digits are teasing your entrance. A low mewl falls from your lips, your hips writhing into his hand as you try to get him to push his fingers into you. God, you desperately need something to fill the ache.

“Joonie- want your fingers,” you murmur, not even bothering to hide the pout in your voice. Namjoon laughs lowly under you, and with an apologetic kiss to your sternum, his digits lightly push against the tight ring of your entrance. Fingernail circling your entrance - almost tauntingly - Namjoon relishes in the way it twitches for him: the tight rings clenching and unclenching involuntarily. Growing tired of his teasing motions, “Joonie, please,” you practically beg.

The ache between your thighs throbs with a vengeance, causing you to squeeze his cock. Hand stroking up to his tip, you take a moment to admire the bulbous mushroom tip. The head is sticky with precum, your thumb swiping over the slit, wetting the tip in his own translucent precum. Rhythmically, your hand begins pumping around the rest of his shaft - your fingers tightening around his girth intermittently.

“Sh-shit. Fuck, that feels good. God, your hand feels so fucking good,” Namjoon praises. He rewards your actions by deliberately pushing two fingers into you - your wetness allowing them to slide in with ease. Drawing sharp raspy breaths from you, Namjoon shallowly begins pumping them into you - never delving deeper than the first knuckle. With each movement, you feel your entrance open and close, your eyes rolling back at the sensation. Indolently, he pumps them - matching the pace of your hand stroking his cock.

Nuzzling into your chest, Namjoon breathes in your scent deeply, relishing in the comforting smell. It’s heavier this time - the smell of your arousal and sweat mixing in with your natural one. Yet, he doesn’t mind. Not when it smells wholly inebriating. “What do you want, baby?” Namjoon murmurs. His voice is low, dropping a couple of octaves, and the baritone sound thrums against your skin: causing goosebumps to flit over your arms.

Unhesitantly, “you,” you whisper back. Letting out an appreciative groan, Namjoon slides his fingers deeper into you. With a keening whine, you begin pumping his length harder - groaning in pleasure when his fingers inside you also pick up the pace.

“You’re so fucking - shit - tight. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock,” Namjoon breathily whispers. His words cause you to clench involuntarily - your hand tightening around his shaft. God, you don’t think you can wait any longer. You need to feel him inside you. Right now. Something you express to Namjoon.

“Want your cock- Joonie, please,” you implore, pressing your lips harshly against his.

Drawing away, “fuck, okay. Let’s get these off,” Namjoon says as hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. Shuffling away from him for a moment - the both of you quickly remove your last articles of clothing: leaving you completely naked.

With not a moment to spare, Namjoon wraps his hands around your thighs, before pulling you back onto his lap. Hastily, you throw your leg over his hip, straddling him once again. One hand on your ass, and other gripping his shaft, Namjoon strokes the velvet head of his cock through your folds: the tip dragging over your clit before catching on your entrance. You hiss at the heated sensation of his cock, your eyelids fluttering when you feel it press against your entrance.

When he’s firmly positioned at your dripping hole, you slowly begin lowering yourself onto him. The moment his head breaches your walls, however, you let out a deep, guttural groan. Completely doused in your wetness, his cock should slide easily into you - however, his girth is so thick that you can’t help but mewl in pain. Squirming over him, your breath turns laboured as you slowly lower yourself onto his cock - the ache of the stretch burning your walls, the pain mingling with pleasure.

“Fucking hell- how are you this- fuck- big?” you keen, your eyes screwing shut. Namjoon leans forward - the movement causing him to sink another inch into you and making you gasp. Dropping his head to your neck, he peppers comforting kisses into your skin while his hand soothingly rubs over your lower back.

Nonetheless, there’s pleasure mixed in the pain and you continue lowering yourself onto his cock. Inch by inch, you take him into you - his cock slowly opening up your walls around his unrelenting length. With every second that passes, you feel his cock drag deliberately against your inner walls - your cunt clenching rhythmically - and forcing you to feel every ridge and vein of his thick girth. Eventually, you sink completely down - your hips pressed against his - and his cockhead kissing the soft walls of your cervix.

There’s an intense pressure deep within your stomach - Namjoon’s cock throbbing erratically inside you. The feel of him nestled so deep within you has you sighing in pleasure. There’s still a dull ache - from how wide he stretches you out; your walls pulled apart to their limits - but pleasure soon replaces the stinging ache. Gradually, you adjust to Namjoon’s size and with an experimental swivel of your hips, you cry out in pleasure.

“God, your pussy is so fucking tight - and wet - shit,” Namjoon slurs - euphoric elation dripping in his words. Breath laboured, you begin lifting yourself over his cock, your back arching - pushing your chest into you - as you ride his tremendous length. With every flex of your thighs, you can’t help but cry out in pleasure. Not only is Namjoon’s cock thick, but he’s incredibly long too, his length just slightly curved: allowing his head to drag against that sweet spot inside you.

Large hands falling to your hips, Namjoon grips them tightly as he helps you move on top of him. Every movement has hot spikes of pleasure jolting across your skin, your toes curling in elation while your stomach twists and knots violently. The rapturous bliss of your impending orgasm calling to you, you begin bouncing your ass over him. Namjoon groans at the feeling, and unable to help himself, one of his hand moves to splay across the curve of your back - pulling you flush into his chest.

Skin melding together, your sweat acting as a glue, you lose yourself into the feel of Namjoon. Abruptly, your arms shoot out and you wrap them around his chest, your fingernails digging into his flesh as you hold him close to you. With his cock buried deep into you, and his head buried in the crook of your neck - Namjoon is all you can feel. Your fingers find purchase in his hair, your nose burrowing into the side of his head as you breathe in his calming scent deeply.

From under you, Namjoon fucks his cock upward - his thrusts pushing him deeper into you. The additional sensation causes you to whimper, your ass twitching as sheer, unadulterated bliss begins flitting through your bloodstream. You’re close - so close you can practically taste your orgasm; even if your mouth is completely dry from gasping his name over and over again.

Feeling your walls begin to pulsate erratically - the rhythm of their contracting falling out of sync - Namjoon knows you’re close. All of a sudden, he pulls you even closer to him - a feat you had considered wholly impossible, considering you’re clinging to each other - and then, he’s flipping you over. Squealing in surprise, you feel your body bounce on the bed, before Namjoon falls over you.

The entire time he moves your bodies, his cock stays buried deep inside your pussy - your walls involuntarily clenching around his shaft. In your new position, Namjoon’s entire weight is braced on one hand beside you, his other hand resting on your back - under your body - as he pulls your chest into his. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he grinds his cock into you. With your new positioning, every time Namjoon thrusts into you, his pelvic bone drags along your clit: making you cry out his name in pleasure.

“J-J-Joon, I-I-I’m c-close,” you stutter out, your back arching as you push your hips into his.

Nodding above you, Namjoon gasps and pants for air. “Fuck baby, me too,” he replies. Legs shooting out, you wrap them around his hips, and heels digging into the fleshy globes of Namjoon’s ass, you pull him deeper into you.

Slowly, yet fervently, the two of your rock into each other - chasing your own highs. You cling desperately to him, your arms still holding onto his shoulders as you writhe together. Then, needing to feel his lips on yours, you strain your neck and press your mouth to his. Instantly, his mouth opens, and your tongues begin lashing against each other leisurely - Namjoon’s intoxicating essence coating your tastebuds.

One of his hands twist between your body before you feel him stroke your clit. Breaking from the kiss, you cry out against his lips: your breaths heavily intermingling together. “Cum for me, baby,” Namjoon urges. His command, paired with the way his fingers dance across your clit, and how his cock drags against your sweet spot, has you careening off of the brink of pleasure.

Mouth falling open, your muscles strain as you choke out a cry of euphoria. Head lolling back, your back arches violently as you twist and contort in pleasure under Namjoon. Rapturous ecstasy ricochets through your entire body, your muscles trembling violently as you cum around his cock. Feeling your pussy tighten in a vice-like grip, your inner walls gushing with wetness as you milk his shaft, Namjoon lets out a deep roar. His own head falls onto your chest, and with a few more thrusts, he buries his cock as deep inside you as he can before he cums.

Through the haze of your pleasure, you feel Namjoon’s cock swell inside you. All of a sudden, his cock begins throbbing - and then you feel it. Rope after rope of thick cum shoots inside you, his seed filling up your inner walls and painting them white. His warm cum fills you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Once he’s done, you feel him soften inside you - and slowly, Namjoon pulls out.

You whine in protest, your walls a little raw from his thick girth - and when he retreats completely, you can’t help but jerk: his head popping out of you. Instantly, his cum begins leaking out, causing you to mewl in pleasure - your entrance throbbing and only forcing more of his cum out. Namjoon sits back on his heels, both your chests heaving as you attempt to catch your breath.

From his position, his eyes drop to your pussy - a low groan of appreciation resounding from deep within his throat. Your legs are spread wide, and your pussy slightly gaping from where he’d fucked you open. But he’s more focused on how his cum leaks out of you, his seed dripping down your ass. Chest swelling with pride, he can’t help but let out a lazy smile.

Leaning forward, he presses one hand onto your inner thigh, while the other swipes two fingers between your slit, gathering up his cum, and pushing it back into you. You wince at the sensation, a low groan slipping from your throat at the sensitivity. Pressing a kiss to your knee, “We’ll have to clean you up,” Namjoon mumbles, even as he continues pushing his fingers inside you.

“Later, I’m tired,” you murmur back whinily. When the ache of oversensitivity gets too much, you bat Namjoon’s hand away before closing your legs. With a low laugh, Namjoon presses an apologetic kiss to your knee.

Then, he flops down next to you. Feeling your best friend settle next to you, you automatically shift in bed - turning and curling into his body. Instinctively, Namjoon’s strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer into him. Hazily, your head still swimming in its post-orgasmic bliss, you feel Namjoon push your hair out of your face. You smile softly at the tender gesture, your smile widening when you feel him brush his lips against your temple affectionately.

“I love you,” Namjoon whispers.

Shuffling closer into him, you press your naked body into his. Easily, your legs tangle together, and closing your eyes, you let his words and the comfort of his presence wash over you.

Sleep already fogging your mind, “I love you too,” you mumble back. Then, after a short pause, “we’re together right…?” you murmur. Namjoon laughs at the slight slur to your voice.

Lazily, he picks up your hand, and entwining your fingers together, he brings them to his lips. Pressing his lips to each of your knuckles in a soft kiss, he nods, “we’re together, baby,” he replies. Sighing in pleasure, you nod happily before snuggling into him. Breathing in his scent, you let the mix of fabric softener, lotion and sweat waft over you - the cacophony of fragrances slowly lulling you to sleep.

Hours later, you and Namjoon wake up from your nap - just in time for dinner. With little giggles, you and Namjoon begin cleaning yourselves up - your face scrunching when you wipe the dried up cum between your legs with the damp washcloth Namjoon had given you. Walking over to your suitcase, you pull out a change of underwear, before slipping on your dress from earlier; Namjoon’s face falling when your body is hidden from his view.

“Why are you pouting?” you ask, throwing your hair into a ponytail as you turn around to face him.

“I miss looking at you, already,” Namjoon replies, an exaggerated pout on his face. Rolling your eyes playfully, you walk over to him and press a kiss to his lower jaw.

Then wrapping your arms around his neck, “Well, I miss looking at you too… but, we have all the time later tonight,” you say. Then, you grow quiet. Sensing the nervousness exuding from your being, Namjoon gently places his hands on your hips, before lightly caressing them in comfort. “And… for the rest of our lives,” you continue, the words leaving you in a single breath. There’s uncertainty in your eyes, because really, neither of you had spoken about what you are - you’d just fallen into bed after your confession.

Gaze softening, Namjoon drops his lips to your forehead. “For the rest of our lives,” he repeats - confident resolve heavy in his tone. His words cause a smile to grace your face. Beaming up at him, you draw onto your tiptoes and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Then, pulling away, you take one of his hands into yours, and entwining your fingers together, you tug at him, “alright, come on. We need to go down for dinner before your parents come looking for us,” you say.

Namjoon nods, and the two of you slip out of your bedroom and back downstairs. With each passing moment, you feel dread pool heavily into your stomach. Nervousness grips your entire being, and desperately, you cling tighter to Namjoon - soaking in all the comfort your boyfriend - boyfriend! - offers you. Finally, the two of you step into the kitchen. Immediately, both of Namjoon’s parents turn to him - however, before they can greet you, they halt.

Instantly, their gaze drops to your entwined hands. Time moves past slowly - the seconds passing excruciatingly. The longer they’re silent, the more nervous you grow. Then, after what feels like aeons, Namjoon’s parents both smile.

Eyes twinkling with mirth, “well… finally,” Namjoon’s mother says, a knowing smile on her face.

a/n: thank you i love my man

⇥ Kofi | Masterlist

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xskyll · 4 years ago

Photo

The BNHA x Chobits AU that no one, not even Mineta, asked for.

The ramblings of my mind under the cut. Warning, it’s loooong.

Okay, so bear in mind that I only watched four episodes of Chobits and it was probably about 14 years ago, and also I didn’t really like it, lol

-Todoroki finds Midoriya laying on some bags of trash next to a dumpster.

-First he’s like “oh no, I need an adult,” because for all his “training,” dad never actually told him what to do when he found a dead body, (this is the summer before he starts U.A., so he’s still living at home). Endeavor is away for a week, and Fuyumi doesn’t count to him (sort of an Aristocats, “she’s not [an adult,] she’s just a sister!” thing). While he’s trying to remember that the police exist, he notices this dead body has very strange ear-like things. He comes closer to investigate. There are lots of weird body types in the world, because of quirks, but these things look metal, which isn’t unheard of, but something about these ears just strike him as unnatural.

- Good news, it seems like a robot, not a dead body. The ears open easily, and there are buttons inside. A power button (that’s right CHOBITS!! It’s in the ear! My love story isn’t going to start with molestation), some USB ports, an aux port, a slot for a microchip or SIM card or whatever, some sort of safety switch (he flips that on)…what really convinces him this is totally a robot are the blutooth and volume buttons (that’s right, Midoriya in this au can charge phones AND he’s a speaker, although the volume buttons’ primary function is to control the volume of his voice).

- He has no good reason for taking this thing home. It weights a ton, it’s awkwardly naked, except for some bandages wrapped around it, which do nothing to hide how anatomically correct this robot is, and he already has a phone charger, so he really has no use for it.

- He feels weird about it though. While he was checking out the ears, he touched its face and the skin was soft and warm. He checked for a pulse, just out of curiosity, and found one. It looks like a person, aside from the ears, and it feels like a person. He feels bad leaving it in the trash. So he takes it home.

- Cue comedy routine where he gets this thing, not just in the house, but to his room without Fuyumi noticing.

- Once in his room, he hits the power switch. Nothing happens. He holds the power switch. Bingo. Robo-boy powers to life, bright, adorably large green eyes open. He’s holding it in his arms, and it’s still all tied up. It looks up at him and says hello.

- He drops it.

- He apologizes as he picks it back up, tugging at the wrappings to try to get its arms free. He realizes he needs to get pants, or at least boxers, for it, because it’s awake now and very much naked.

- For the very first time, he realizes that this adorable, thin-yet-lean-muscled, between 14-16 looking robo-boy might have been someone’s weird sex doll. They probably threw it away because they found a real person to date and they didn’t want them to know about their underage sex robot. This also sort of explains the pulse; the mystery pervert person probably programmed a fake pulse and did something to make his skin warm, to make him feel more real. Gross.

- He’s broken from these thoughts when the robot speaks. It says, “Please insert memory bank files or turn on base memory.” Todoroki is already freaking out, because this thing wants its memories, and he doesn’t have them. He opens the ear again and investigates. Next to the empty slot, there’s a small button labeled BM. Base memory? Sure, why not. He pushes it.

- The robot goes blank faced for a few seconds. When he comes to, he looks at Todoroki, then the room, then down at himself. He flexes his arms, trying to break the bands around him, but stops, saying, “Safety mode is on.”

- Todoroki finishes helping unwrap him, awkwardly doing so while pointedly looking away, once he gets to his lower half. Once he’s free, he goes and gets a pair of boxers and throws them in his direction. “Can you put them on?” He’s curious if the robot can do something like that unaided, and also he doesn’t want to cloth it himself, because even though this is a robot, it looks like a very cute boy his age. And it has a pulse. He can’t stop thinking about that.

- The robot puts on the boxers, after inspecting them for a second. He honestly does struggle to figure it out for a moment, cause he has zero common sense, but he does figure it out. It probably takes him about a minute. Once they’re on, he stands and starts inspecting the room.

- “Do you have a name?” seems like a dumb question, but he asks anyway and the robot answers, “I’m Project Midoriya.”

- Background info time. Midoriya is not fully a robot. He was kidnapped just seven months ago, coming home from school. It was the day of the sludge villain attack, but he got nabbed before they could cross paths. AFO wanted a quirkless person to experiment on. He did his research and found Midoriya Izuku, a quirkless boy with no friends and little family, who wouldn’t be missed very much. He’s confident enough that he won’t get caught that he titles his new project by its name: Midoriya. Midoriya’s memories are still in his mind, but they’re suppressed. AFO found it easier to backup his memories to a chip, so he could remove them as needed. When they were installed, Midoriya responded best to his own name anyway, so calling him that was also the easiest thing. Without his memories, AFO found him a bit annoying, because he had no social skills or common sense. He needed to be taught, which he didn’t have the patience for, so usually he just left the memories in. He was a timid boy anyway and easy to intimidate, especially if he threaten to hurt his mom.

- The cops figure his disappearance was maybe a runaway situation, but given his track record and the profile on him they’d compiled from listening to his mom, classmates, and teachers, they figure it’s more likely a kidnapping or murder. Fun fact though, he got kidnapped the day Bakugou told him to kill himself. Obviously no body is found, but he knows people go to forests to hang themselves, or put weights in their pockets and drown themselves. Those bodies can take years to find. So while all of this is happening, Bakugou is out there just every day, “what have I done, what have I done, what have I done?” When they finally see each other again, Bakugou freaks out and Midoriya’s suppressed memories are triggered. Bakugou demands answers, Todoroki is confused and defensive, and Midoriya is just, “System overload. Shutting down,” and then face plants to the floor.

- Anyway, back to Shouto. He asks Midoriya if he remembers anything. Midoriya has exactly one memory (or at least, one easily accessible memory), and it’s this: “A man. He looked like this.” He put his hand over his face. “He said, ‘Sensei put so much work into you. Why are you so useless (Deku)?’”

- More bg info, AFO gave Midoriya to Shigaraki, telling him to try to make him useful, and Shigaraki DID try for a couple of months, but he was over the whole situation after basically one day. With his memories, Midoriya was scared and traumatized, had morals, cried a bunch and sometimes tried to escape, and was just UGH. He could mute his voice, but even that didn’t help, cause this kid was just sooo annoying. Without his memories he was awkward and boring and still annoying. Eventually he just yeeted him into a trash heap, but took his memory chip, since it technically contains LoV information.

- Midoriya considers his only memory and thinks being called Deku feels sort of normal, so he says as much. “Deku might also be my name. You can call me that, if you want.” Todoroki says he’ll stick with Midoriya, because Deku isn’t a nice name for his new robot friend.

- So the first section of the story after this is fairly light-hearted. Todoroki has to keep Midoriya a secret from Endeavor and Fuyumi (I feel like she does find out eventually, but agrees to help hide him, as she sees it’s good for her little bro to finally have this (maybe?) living thing/person to talk to and take care of.) Speaking of care, Midoriya is very easy to care for. He can eat, drink, and sleep, but doesn’t need to. He has some sort of self-charging system. Most of his “care” involves teaching him social skills (which oof, blind leading the blind, but they say teaching is the best way to learn, so this is actually good for Shouto too). Embarrassing stuff happens. Fluffy stuff happens. It’s a good time.

- Shouto spends the summer with Midoriya this way. Most of their interactions are fluffy and light, but not all. The first time he comes back to his room after training with his dad, he learns two things: Midoriya has first aid knowledge programmed into him and he’s capable of crying. As the trainings continue, Midoriya eventually reveals that he has over a hundred fighting styles programmed into him and knows over 70 ways to kill a person, but he can’t access any of that information while his safety is on. Todoroki is just like, “Uuuuuh, that’s really good to know…but we’re gonna keep the safety on for now, okay? I hate my dad but also please don’t murder him. He’s famous so we wouldn’t get away with it. Also murder is bad, don’t kill people.”

- Midoriya wants to know if all heroes are like Endeavor and Shouto is like, noooo and shows him the debut video of his personal favorite hero: All Might. Watching this video is the first time Midoriya has a “System overloading. Shutting down” moment. Shouto has an absolute panic attack, because if Midoriya reboots and his memories are wiped, then he’ll have lost the best friend he ever had. But Midoriya restarts and he’s fine. He explains that sometimes he shuts down, to prevent a system failure, which would damage his…idk, hard drive or whatever. He quietly admits that the All Might video is very familiar, and he thinks maybe it used to be important to him. Shouto questions him about his memories and Midoriya theorizes that perhaps he has them backed up, but he isn’t sure how to access them.

- This is exciting for Shouto, because he thinks maybe if Midoriya experiences more “triggers,” like the video, he might regain his memories and be able to shed some light on the general mystery of where he came from/who made him/what his purpose is. Whenever Endeavor is away, he tries to sneak Midoriya out, so he can see the real world. He isn’t too concerned about his ears, because in a world of quirks, there are plenty of odd looking people around. So far he’s been wearing Todoroki’s clothes, which a little too big on him, so they go shopping and get him clothes. None of their outings seem to trigger anything, except one time when they pass a park where Midoriya and Bakugou used to play as kids. Midoriya grows quiet and seems far away for a moment, but he doesn’t overload and shakes off the familiar feeling.

- Whenever they see All Might stuff he’s just !!!!!!! He can’t remember why he likes All Might, but he remembers how he feels about him. The more All Might stuff he sees, the more his old feelings return. One day they pass a large All Might poster and Midoriya says, “I think maybe I wanted to be like him, once.”

- Eventually Todoroki starts school. He feels bad about leaving him, but Midoriya is content to stay in his room and occupy himself until Todoroki comes home. He’s part computer, so he’s a total boss at helping with math homework. He likes doing homework with Todoroki in general, because he likes learning. This is great for Todoroki’s grades because again, the teaching thing helps everything stick better for him.

- The attack on USJ happens and Todoroki sees Shigaraki, who has a hand on his face, and he’s like, “Shit, shit, shit, this is the guy who threw away Midoriya,” and he has NO idea what to do with that information. Midoriya belonging to the LoV does explain the “70+ ways to kill” programming though. He tells Midoriya what happened and Midoriya is kind of whatever about it. He says, “Maybe I belonged to villains, but I belong to you, now.” And Shouto is like, “No, no, no, no. You do not. You belong to yourself” and Midoriya is just ????

- I think for the Sports Festival, Midoriya convinces him to use his fire. It’s sort of like, “It’s your power, even though its origin is Endeavor. Just like how everything I can do is my power, even though I was programmed by villains. Being made by villains doesn’t make me a villain. Using the resources they gave me doesn’t make me a villain. Being Endeavor’s son doesn’t make you Endeavor, and using your fire doesn’t either.” Todoroki turns off Midoriya’s safety, confident he has nothing to fear.

- Midoriya watches the Sports Festival on tv (using his blutooth, he can actually just hear the volume in his head, so he can watch silently). He sees Bakugou. Seeing him on screen doesn’t have a huge impact on him, but he does feel something. Fear, unease, admiration, and affection. He’s confused and uncomfortable, and ends up looking away from the screen whenever he’s shown for too long.

- Shouto actually starts making friends at school. Being with Midoriya has taught him a lot about being kind and the joy having other people in your life can bring. Still, he doesn’t trust anyone enough to tell them about Midoriya. He’s terrified of losing him.

- For the Hosu incident, Midoriya is home alone, probably doing something on Shouto’s laptop. He sees the breaking news and is just, “Welp, that’s where Shouto, the official best person in the world, is, so guess I’m going to Hosu to make sure he’s safe.” He leaves the house alone, for the first time ever, and just runs to Hosu. Idk how far away Hosu is from the Todoroki residence, but Midoriya doesn’t fatigue and he’s also outrageously fast, so it’s fine. Also he can see in the dark, but only if he activates his night vision, which makes his eyes glow. Not good for sneaking, but very pretty and cool. I’m not sure how he finds Shouto, or how Shouto found Iida, but I imagine Stain is like, seconds from skewering him and then Midoriya comes out of nowhere and collides with Stain (which is a big deal, cause remember, Midoriya is filled with metal parts and is super heavy). They fight together and at some point Stain cuts Midoriya and he bleeds, which for Shouto is like !?!??! And then he licks his blood and the paralysis works and Shouto is just !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- Later, after the life threatening stuff is over, Todoroki has some seriously thoughts about this, because what if Midoriya is human? Or part human? That would be a huge development, and also kind of relief for him, because he sort of feels like he’s been falling in love, but he’s been desperately stomping down on those feelings, because he knows falling in love with a robot probably isn’t healthy. But falling in love with a half robot? I mean, Iida could be called part robot, with his legs, if you want to get technical about it. And Todoroki does want to get technical about it, thank you very much. If Iida is dateable, then so is Midoriya.

- Back to Hosu. They beat Stain and, after securing him, Todoroki tells Midoriya to go home, before his dad arrives. Once he leaves, he begs Iida not to tell anyone he saw him and promises to explain later. For ease of narrative, Native was unconscious the entire fight.

- Endeavor shows up, as does the Nomu. It takes Shouto but Stain rescues him. At the hospital, Todoroki explains the Midoriya situation to Iida, revealing that this incident was the first time he realized Midoriya had blood in him. Iida agrees to keep the secret, but urges Todoroki to tell someone. Maybe Aizawa. He agrees to consider, but he doesn’t want Midoriya to get taken away and like, locked up to be studied or something. He and Iida become better friends, bonding over almost dying together and sharing the secret of Midoriya.

- Midterms! Shouto scores higher because he has an awesome robot tutor. He doesn’t actually care, but good for him regardless.

- Summer field trip time. Midoriya can’t come, obviously. I’m thinking during this time, he decides to sneak out of the house and explore on his own. He feels guilty, because Shouto would worry if he knew, but he just feels this draw. He feels like maybe his old memories were important, and he’s becoming curious. He keeps thinking about the boy from the Sports Festival and about All Might. He ends up in his old neighborhood. He sees his middle school and he doesn’t remember anything, but seeing the building makes him feel lonely and sort of bad about himself. It reminds him of Shigaraki calling him Deku, and the familiar feeling that gave him. He leaves and finds himself on his old street. He isn’t close at all to his old home - he can barely see the apartment building - but he can still see it. He almost shuts down, but turns away quickly and starts back the way he came. He doesn’t remember anything, but seeing that building fills him with overwhelming emotions. The strongest one reminds him of his feelings for Shouto, but it’s different. He can’t place it, but he knows he’d die to protect Shouto, and he feels like maybe he once knew someone in that building that he would also die to protect. Once he gets home, he realizes he’s crying. He decides to sleep and he dreams of green eyes and a smile that looks like home.

- Shouto is injured during the villain attack and goes to the hospital. Once he’s released, he agrees with Kirishima that they’ll go rescue Bakugou. That whole thing pretty much goes at it did in canon, except All Might never found a successor, so he’s more powerful. He defeats AFO and does not have to retire, though he’s feeling an overwhelming pressure to find a successor now, because he knows he’s hanging on by a thread.

- Dorms!! Shouto is bringing his boy with him. He figures he can hide him just as easily there as he can at home. Getting him in is a little tricky, but he manages. From there, it’s smooth sailing.

- Except not really, because living with 18-19 other people (19 if Hitoshi is in the class, which, maybe) is way different than living with 2. Midoriya is discovered in like, a week and everyone is freaking out, most of all Bakugou, who basically breaks down. He tries to hit Midoriya and screams at him, about thinking he was dead and going to his funeral and how it was his fault and having to face his mom and did Midoriya even think about his mom??? As previously mentioned, Midoriya just shuts down and face plants to the ground.

- Shouto finally learns Midoriya’s full name. Midoriya Izuku. A+ name. Very cute. He plans to use it immediately.

- Bakugou’s insight changes the situation completely. Now they know Izuku was once 100% human and something awful happened to him. They end up bringing him to Aizawa and explaining the situation and everything they know. Todoroki gets scolded, cause Izuku could have been dangerous and he should have known better, but he doesn’t even pretend to have regrets. Endeavor would have made him throw Izuku back into the trash where he found him. His best friend isn’t trash.

- Now the name of the game is helping Izuku restore his memories. Bakugou is a huge help, but patience is required, to keep Izuku from overloading. He remembers bits and pieces at a time, all centered around Bakugou. Aizawa agrees to let him attend classes, so they can keep an eye on him. He’s also hoping a school setting might trigger more memories. He meets All Might and he doesn’t even get to announce his system malfunction before he’s out. He sees him, starts smoking at the mouth and hits the floor. All Might is very alarmed.

- Tsukauchi is made aware of the situation. He wants to keep things under wraps though. If the LoV is aware Midoriya is out and about, they may target him. If they can restore his memories though, they may gain insight into the group’s plans. That being said, he thinks it’s only right that they tell Inko. They tell her they have information on her son and make her sign a contract, agreeing not to release any information. Once she agrees, they brief her on what they know and, at the end, bring in Izuku.

- Izuku has been talking with Bakugou about his mom, to prepare for this (he usually wants Shouto with him for these conversations, and Shouto and Bakugou sort on inadvertently become friends). He can’t remember her at all, but he remembers the face in his dream. He knows it’s her. While talking, he’s shut down a few times (which drives Bakugou up the wall, and also scares him a little, cause he kind of looks dead when it happens), but he thinks he might be ready to see her now. He’s brought in and he does not shut down, not fully, but he comes close. He definitely glitches a little, maybe doing a quick reboot, quick enough that he doesn’t even fall, and his voice comes out cracked and metallic when he speaks, and there are sparks in his mouth, but he manages, “Mom?” They both cry and she holds him while he tells her, voice wavering between sounding normal and sounding robotic, that he doesn’t remember her, but he loves her, he knows he loves her so so much and he knows he’s missed her, even though he didn’t know who she was. It’s very emotional, and extremely hard for both of them when they finally have to separate, because Izuku can’t go home with her. She’s allowed to visit though, and each visit helps him restore little pieces of his memory. Between her and Bakugou, he starts making enough progress that he stops shutting down when he gains a new memory, and he starts remembering his old hopes and dreams. He doesn’t remember what AFO did to him, but he remembers enough of his past to feel self-conscious now, about his body. He breaks down one day and Shouto holds him while he grapples with his identity, his humanity, and his future.

- I’m picturing a scene where he’s crying and Shouto takes his face in his hands and explains all the beautiful things about him that make him human, and he finishes up with something corny like, “I know you, Izuku. You’re human. You have to be human, because I’m in love with you.” And then they KISS and it is ROMANTIC!

- He decides he still wants to be a hero and he becomes a real member of 1A, instead of just a visitor. The whole class helps him design a costume and come up with a name and in general are just like, “Cyborg Hero, yay!!”

- And that’s all I got. I think eventually he would fight the league, and probably retrieve his chip, giving him 100% of his memories. There’s a LOT of trauma to deal with there, because he was basically torn apart and put back together several times by AFO, but they do gain all the information they need to take down the LoV for good. And the Overhaul arc is in there. Izuku might still intern with Nighteye, because All Might is like, “Robot successor? Maybe???” and he wants Nighteye’s opinion. Nighteye can’t see his future, because he’s not fully human, but eventually he gives his stamp of approval. Eri is rescued and that’s a very personal fight for Izuku, because he identifies with what she’s gone through. And of course she loves him and thinks his ears are cute and his glowy eyes are pretty.

- Oh, and the School Festival. I honestly don’t even know what to do with him. He can learn any instrument just by like, downloading some YouTube tutorial videos. He can learn any dance by watching it once. He’s really strong, really fast, and can also operate as a speaker (though that can be awkward, cause it’s through his mouth, so he’d just be standing there with his mouth open). They might keep his role same as canon, idk. They’d probably all fight over him.

- I’m sure none of this was anything like Chobits. Sorry. I just think the ears are neat, really, and liked the idea of Izuku being a cyborg (Chobits isn’t even about cyborgs, lol).

Sorry this is outrageously long! If you want to write this into a full fic, feel free to use my ideas! Just give me a shoutout, maybe? And tell me about it, so I can read it!

#skylldraws #skyll rambles #tddk #tddk fanart #tddk au #tododeku #tododeku au #bnha #bnha x chobits #todoroki x midoriya #shouto x izuku #todoizu #tddk ficlet #tododeku ficlet #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku

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sugarakis-p2 · 3 years ago

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Hunted by the Sacred Order ch3

Mothman Shigaraki has a new blended family, and a new mate named Drury. It’s not easy mixing humans and beasts but they are trying. All while being hunted by the Sacred Order for bringing down a protective wall that separated the tasty humans from the monsters of the forest. Now Shigaraki must either fight his nature or give in, he knows what he wants. A bigger family, but are they ready for it, will the rest of the family agree?

You think robbing a library would be easy but between a sick Drury and navigating a sewer system filled with rats and dung beetle people it's nothing but a hassle it gets worse when they reach the library. Shigaraki is home waiting for Spinner to come through for him, when his instincts kick in again turning him into a mushy protective daddy moth.

A gift for @shiggycansteponme

Warning: Soft sinnamon roll dilf moth Shiggy, swallowing gross stuff, NSFW memories, knotting references, sewer crawl.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3:

“Whoa! Why does the church put my reward so high,” Drury asked from her hiding spot on Muscular’s back.

They had bundled themselves as porters for the Sacred Order. Drury wasn’t up to trying to disguise herself and try to lie her way through. She is tied to his back under a bundle of straw. Dabi flashed the badges from the two they caught, having enough forethought to steal them.

“That is unusual. I’ve killed way more than you. Got to admit they captured your beauty,” Muscular says. Most of his face hidden under a blue hanky, with his good eye, he shuffled through the pile of wanted posters. Most of the group are wanted, calling them a League of villains. Sacred Order propaganda was so out there.

“Not so loud, meathead,” Dabi huffed.

“We’re in a shady alleyway; we’re fine. What a drama queen,” Muscular snorted. Drury whined for some more root, and Muscular tried to get her to use her mouth to take it from him, but she snatched it before he could be creepier.

“Drury, will these badges get us to the inner walls where the forbidden library is at?” Dabi asked. Originally, he just wanted to get the possible babies out of the way for war. But he can’t help thinking this might be for the best since she is so sick.

“No, that’s why I said we should wait until dark. It’s not just that you stand out too much. It’s because we need to hit the sewers. The port to it is in the middle of the road,” Drury groans, chewing harder. She points to the crowd. His eyes follow her finger, and sure enough, there is a port. He groans to himself.

“We can get into the inner rings by the sewer?” he asked, worried now.

“Yeah, most wouldn’t consider it. You have the rat and dung beetle people down there. It’s dangerous, by the way, Dabi, no fire down there. There are pockets of built-up gas. Do we have any gold? What am I saying? Of course, we do; Hannah wouldn’t have sent us on this mission without it?”

“Why?” Dabi asked cautiously.

“Because I’m hungry. Also, the rat people are easier to deal with, you throw fresh food opposite you, and they will chase it. Buy a bunch of rolls,” Drury said, getting drowsy and snuggling against Musc’s back. The monster looked like he was in heaven, and Dabi hesitated. The man didn’t listen very well and shouldn’t be left alone with Drury.

“Hey, Drury, do you think someone could travel through the sewers all the way from the outer rings?” Snapping his fingers to wake her.

“Yeah, but who would swim through that much shit?” She mumbles, falling asleep. Dabi knows. Shigaraki would. Dabi was quick. It wasn’t hard to convince Musc to steal the rolls while Dabi burned people from the manhole.

They dropped down, and Dabi lit the way. Musc set some rolls aside for Drury, Dabi scoffed at the gesture.

“She’s not going to want sewer rolls, musclehead,” He told him, rigging a spell to help find their way.

“You won’t because you’re not made of sterner stuff, not like my Drury,” he boasts.

“Careful, if anyone from the den heard that, fuck, if Drury heard that,” he was lecturing when Muscular interrupted.

“She is completely passed out. This is unnatural. She will be better off with me,” he says seriously. Dabi doesn’t care who she ends up with as long as they can get her fighting again. They had to do this quick. He cast the spell and observed the direction his blue flickered too.

The rolls did work like a charm. Anytime they came across a patrol of rat people, they would throw a roll, and they would chase it. Fighting over it and eating the most injured in the scuffle. It’s as harsh in the underworld as above.

Muscular stops him with concern gracing his face for the first time Dabi has seen. He doesn’t like it. He has always been happy with bloodlust. This thoughtful muscular is making Dabi nervous.

“She’s hot like feverish. I can feel her burning and sweating. Don’t think she has long. Let’s just kill everything in our way and quit wasting time?”

“Quit thinking. You’re not in charge. I already told you to leave it to me. We are going to get there soon. You think you can beat a whole army of ticked-off rat and dung creatures, but your Drury and I know the reality, so wait.” No sooner did he say this than turn the corner and walk right into a Dung insect patrol, “Fuck!” he hissed.

Letting loose with a small burst of flame, he was surprised when he nearly killed all of them. An explosion threw them back and smashed the three of them smashed against the wall. When he woke up, he paused, thinking. Having a hard time understanding through the fog and loud ringing shooting pain through his skull. The insects were surrounding her. Touching her and chittering amongst the limbs of their comrades.

“Drury! Wake up, dammit!” he yelled, only to get hit by one of the insect people. He hears a roar to his right and glimpses Muscular fighting and being overrun. With sheer numbers, they have already lost. Worse is when he realizes he must have hit a pocket of gas. Using his magic was a risk down here.

They hovered over Drury, talking amongst themselves, not beating him if he holds still. He listened to them and realized he understood a few words that drifted through the trilling noises. Breeding, progress, pregnant, females, structure, kill, hurt, care; overall, it didn’t sound good for them. He tried to move and was pressed down on by more of them. It took a while and a lot of death, but they brought down Muscular.

They are careful with Drury’s limp form. One brought some black foul-looking stuff, shoving it in her mouth as the hideous beetle and cricket-looking creatures argued over her.

“Hey!” Dabi shouts in Mothman, “Don’t touch her, or her mate will rip you apart!” He said in Mothman.

They freeze, turning to him before they bombard him with noises he can’t understand. Crowding in with their soulless eyes and wavering mandibles that make him sick to look at. One of them pulls at Drury's strands of hair with their little claws like segmented hands. It took him a moment to understand it was trying to pet her as they brought some cocoon thing to her. They squeezed it into her mouth, feeding her green goop, which she sucked down like it was mothers milk, moaning in relief.

He couldn’t take this; it was churning his stomach. It was so disgusting.

“Get off!” He roars as he looses another burst of blue flames, “Hey, grab her!”

They are scattering from him and Muscular, who is eager to keep fighting while they try to get a barely conscious Drury away, As he sends a ball of fire above them. They clearly fear it but are unwilling to let Drury go. Muscular is tearing her away from them, flinging her groaning body over his shoulder.

“Let’s go!” he shouts. Muscular wanted to keep fighting when a giant roach creature screeched at them. With an army of similar creatures swarming behind, he sends a wave of fire, and the roaches shake it off.

“Fuck this,” Dabi growls. Muscular grabs him and runs with both bouncing over his shoulder.

“Which direction?” the man huffs. Dabi is about to tell him he can’t use his flames in an unknown area.

“Go left at the next tunnel. Then right at the first ladder, take the next ladder you see after that,” Drury says, perking up. Green goop at the corner of her mouth, making Dabi shudder in revulsion. The insects are hot on their tail when Muscular bursts above ground. They didn’t pursue as Musc dodged into an alleyway.

“Alright, Dru. Where do we go next?” Dabi asked. She shrugged, wiping her mouth thankfully. It was souring his stomach. He didn’t know how much longer he could look at that. He gave her an incredulous look, and she giggled at him.

“I don’t know. I read the markers the workers put down their labels on the walls for the streets above. I’ve never been in the inner walls before. But the library should be close by. The Librarian in the outer rings talked about it often. He would tell me how women are never allowed in the library, and he wished the same rules applied there. Let me take a look at the street names, see where we are at,” Drury says, indicating for Muscular put her down.

Muscular did after Dabi shot him a dirty look. She bends and stretches her legs. It is amazing how good she feels. Maybe all she needed was some rest on solid ground? Whatever it was, she felt like she could kick these two in the balls for making her come here. Before looking at the deserted street, the building themselves were amazing. She had never seen ones so tall and pretty. When she looked down the street, there were so many homes, and they all looked the same in a way that confused her. She can feel her cheeks heating as she walks back.

“Well?” Dabi asks.

“I don’t know. Got overwhelmed and didn’t see any of the signs they put on the streets. I really want to go home,” she pouts. Dabi sighs, grabs her by the hand, and looks for her. In no time, they are outside of the library. Drury sulks the entire time until they do reach the library. Where she promptly kicks Dabi in the balls. He doubles over, staring at her as if he wants to set her on fire.

“That was for lying to me. You can read just fine.” She snarls at him.

Musc is laughing so hard his muscles are bulging. She will never say this aloud, but she is angry Hannah would give her a job that involved this creep. She is so grateful she is feeling so much better. Musc offers Dabi some root for his aching balls. He shoves it in his mouth.

Dabi makes quick work of the door despite Drury’s nagging about fire in a place that is a pile of kindling. She sneaks in, but Dabi doesn’t bother being quiet.

“It’s a library. It’s not like they have security,” he says, rolling a cigarette. Drury smacks it out of his hand and points to the books. Drury raises a finger to her lips, and they wander aimlessly through rows and floors of books.

“They do have guards. Just not mortal ones. It’s the forbidden library which is under the actual library. Fuck. Bet there is a bunch of magic things. We should have Shiggy here. This is a shit mission. How the hell are you even going to get out of here? The sewers are all riled up, and there are wanted posters of us everywhere. And look at this. We have been wandering what feels like hours. We are only on the second floor. There are five floors. We need to go down. We need a librarian,” she tells them. A jaunty tune floats over them, and Dabi looks over the rail and grins.

“Well, look at that. It’s a librarian with a couple of guards. Must be our lucky night,” Dabi says.

“What the?” Drury wonders as they all look down.

“Well, it must have been a false alarm. We get them often. The rat people try to break in to make nests with the paper,” the Librarian in the red scholar robes tells the Sacred Order guards.

“I’ll take care of them,” Muscular offers. Drury scoffs.

“You’ll kill them all. Total lack of self-control,” Drury gripes. Jumping and planting a foot on the railing, helping her leap up and over. Pulling out butcher knives as she falls. Dabi admired the pure art of Drury’s killing. The knives plant right in the skulls of the guards while her knees hit the Librarians between his shoulders, knocking the man face down with a grunt. The wind was knocked from him as she parted her legs to stand over him in her final landing.

The man twists to look at his assailant. His mouth gaped in a silent scream of terror. Drury pulled out her knives from the skulls with a horrid squelching sound. The men’s heads splatted in a growing pool of blood. The man tries to crab-walk away from the monster when he bumps into Muscular. A pyromancer dropped down behind the butcher of the outer rings.

“These guys have some nice boots. I think those will fit you, and these could fit me.” The evil she-devil said to the burnt man. A heavy hand clapped over his mouth and lifted him. Forcing him to watch as the two try on new shoes of the poor dead men. The one-eyed man holding him looked down and grinned.

“You get to live if you help us,” he said gruffly. He recognized the butcher of the outer ring immediately. But, the other two were dressed in blue as members of the Sacred Order, and it confused him.

“These are nice,” the pyromancer says to the butcher, who is giggling like an innocent girl wiggling her toes.

“Don’t scream.” the one-eyed man tells him. He nodded, and he let him go. The butcher waved to him with a pleasant smile that made his flesh crawl.

“Hello. Can you help us? We need to get into the forbidden library and get a disenchantment book, anything that has to do with Mothmen,” Drury asked politely.

“More specifically, with halving breeds,” an abrasive voice said. Drury lit up and ran to brother Spinner, who looked worse for wear, as she embraced his sewer reeking body. The Librarian saw the dragon born and understood who these people were.

“You are the league of villains,” he said aloud.

“Well, that’s rude. Drury and Shigaraki are two of the sweetest creatures on the planet. I’ll not have you besmirching them in front of me,” the pyromancer said suddenly close to his face.

“What are we going to do with Spinner here?” Musc whispered to him.

“I already told you to leave the thinking and the talking to me. Hey, bookworm. Would any of those books we mentioned have a spell or a potion for safely getting rid of an unwanted halfling? Some of the species in our group are breeding, and it’s killing the human females. The males are too willing to pay that cost, so be decent and help out some sweet women,” Dabi appeals quietly.

“Like the sweet lady that killed two innocent guards who were just doing their jobs?” The Librarian asks, being obstinate.

“You can take that up with Drury when you guide us to what we want. Here I thought you were the type of guy who understands about protecting his and his own. Like these little babies,” Dabi says, holding up a book and burning it in front of him.

“Stop! Okay. Just don’t hurt the books,” he says with a lilt of panic.

“You two! What the hell did you think you are doing kidnapping Shigaraki’s mate? He will hunt you down and rip you apart if we don’t bring her back soon,” Spinner confronted in their native tongue. The only ones that came from these rings were Mr. Compress.

“Are you two going to talk about us like we’re not here?” Drury asked.

“She was in horrible distress. I know it’s hard to tell now, but you can ask her. When we found her on patrol, she was in so much misery we couldn’t bring her back to that unstable creature who left his mate to writhe in pain. We came here to figure out a way to get both back to normal with some spell books,” Dabi justifies calmly. Spinner narrows his eyes in suspicion but nods.

“Yeah, they are going to do that. Do you think I should break a leg so he can’t run?” Musc asked Drury, who mulled it over.

“I know of the pain you speak of. But that pain doesn’t just stop suddenly. What has happened in the meantime?” Spinner asks Dabi.

“The insect people in the tunnels puked green gunk in her mouth. It was the most disgusting thing I saw down there,” Dabi says.

“Since we are here, we should try to find something that can get us out of here. Our existence is sealed, and I promised to bring back Drury quickly nearly eleven hours ago,” he responds.

“Nah, he won’t run. Otherwise, Dabi will end all this knowledge in a horrible way,” Drury said. The Librarian blanched when Drury cleaned off her knives on the dead men before putting them away, “Let's try again. Hi, I’m Drury. What do we call you?” She asks, too friendly for the rest in the room.

“You are a polite serial killer. Why? So, you can go kill my family?” He asked. Drury jerked as if he had slapped her, and Musc dug in his fingers until he almost broke his collar bone. The only thing that stopped him was Drury’s disapproving hurt look.

“Why would you say that or even think it? I was told by Hannah and Shiggy to kill any guards I saw because, and I quote, ‘You are wanted dead or alive and dead is so much easier. They will show you no mercy, so show them none.’ And ‘They knew what they signed up for. It job. If they not smart enough to stay alive it they fault.’ I am not a serial killer,” Drury huffs to go get comfort hugs from Spinner. He turned bright red and moved her to hold her hand. She sulked. Everyone looked at him with contempt.

“I used to be called a hero.” She pouted.

“All right, bookworm, now that you thoroughly pissed us all off, let’s go find those books,” Dabi says, having Musc keep a tight grip on him as he guides the way.

Shigaraki was not only bored out of his mind but pissed off at all the non-problems Hannah was trying to get him to solve. He’s not even here right now. He remembered when he told her he could screw her standing in the woods.

He had found a pinyon pine and his mate wanted to give Mary a present. She was so happy picking pin cones with him she told him she would give him a present. Shoving him against a tree and undoing the front of his pants. He loves this kinky side of her. She was eager to pump his excitement before he was ready. She made him whimper and redden pitifully.

“Wait,” he moaned. Giving up the second, she started licking him. He was weak against that kind of attention. He threw his head back and let his antennae droop to catch all the remarkable tastes, sounds, smell while she greedily swallowed and sucked his cock. He looks at the moon and thinks they should name her Luna if they ever have a girl. Those thoughts were quickly forgotten as she tried to drink all his leaky pre-cum and was choking on it.

“Give me a moment,” she had giggled. Fuck that, he thought when he seized her. Turning her around to whisper in her ear as his lower set of arms busily pulled off her pants and undergarments.

“I have four arms. Can hold and breed just like this,” he had hissed at her. She giggled while helping her get nude. He is fascinated by her soft, tender neck. He loves the smooth feel of her soft skin under his touch. Her pulse was speeding up in anticipation for him. He used his lower arms to hold her legs up under the knees spreading her wide. One hand carefully wrapped around her neck as his other arm pressed her firmly against his chest. Rubbing his ruff on her mixing their scents. His hand kneaded her perfect breast.

She had grabbed his cock and helped him in, staring in the eyes with such beautiful bliss, a moan slipped past her lips. He had to curve his hips under a bit to fit as much of himself in her tight welcoming warmth. She held onto his arm, roughly groping her chest and tweaking her nipple when he started to rut. She bounced on him with glee. A sweet smile graced her reddening cheeks.

She had reached up and entangled her fingers in his hair and ruff, forcing him to kiss her and look into her lust-filled eyes. She has the most exotic eyes to him; he could fall into them and get lost. Wings flapping to keep his balance as he thrust hard up into her. He wanted to hear those pretty little sounds she makes when he is about to make her cum on him. Panting and whining as her pussy grips at him, coaxing an intense pleasure from him.

He caressed the scar on her arm, and she gasped. Looking away from him in shame before he said his best sentence that sealed them together.

“Love flaws. Every single one, swear you are beautiful. Nothing can compare to you, not even the moon,” he panted.

“Ooooh, Shiggy,” she cried deeply when her cunt clenched on his cock. Hot, slick juices dripped down his front. Drury mewled as he continued to push himself deeper into her. He had to lean back on the tree to arch up into her. She had almost knocked him off his feet. She felt so good. He wasn’t able to get his knot in her, so his cum flowed out as he tried to push himself before it was too late.

She grits her teeth, tears streaming down as he pushes himself into her in just enough time. Her cunt crushing his knot, milking him, just made him so much closer to her. He can’t think of a time when he ever felt this close to a person. She giggled and yanked his hair harder.

“Rude! Next time warn me,” she growled at him. He wouldn’t because she should have known what was coming.

“Are you even listening? That spider monster is a real problem?” Hannah lectured, her nagging cutting through his pleasant thoughts.

“Drider. Not monster. Say right,” Shigaraki scolded. Hannah turned bright red.

“I’m sorry. I will do better. The drider wants to take Suki as his mate.”

“Still hear no problem. Lynx will be a good mate,” he says, popping more of Mary’s cooking in his mouth. He is starting to worry. Spinner should be back with his mate, but he doesn’t smell them. There is a nagging voice harsher than Hannah’s, telling him to go seek her out and protect his babies.

“The problem is consent. Suki won’t be of age until a year from now, so even if she like Lynx the same way, it is not appropriate for them,” Hannah says.

“Still no understand. Why that important? No babies for a year? Who care? Perfect. Give him Suki, secure our den for migration in year,” Shigaraki says, using his antennae in the stale air to see if he can sense his Drury. Hannah sighs. What did she expect from people who literally marry children off before they are born for things? She stops and thinks of how she can convince Shigaraki to intervene on Suki's behalf.

“It’s a human superstition. If they mate before her coming of age birthday, all the babies will suffer abnormalities. It’s tradition to woo and then mate when she is ready. It ensures a more successful coupling. If she is never ready, he must let her go,” she says cautiously. Shigaraki mulls this over.

“Finally, something that make sense. I go convince Lynx to woo and wait. It will hurt him, but he will understand,” Shigaraki says. Hannah relaxes. She will make sure Suki stays behind wherever they end up and never enters these caves again when it’s time to migrate.

“Now about the children,” She is about to discuss with him the issue of the stressed-out children when Henry and youngest burst in, running to Shigaraki, who instantly scoops them up in his four arms. He is so quick she didn’t see him move. The moment he felt the wave of emotional hormones in the air, his instincts kicked in to protect and comfort his distraught children.

His thoughts went to his mate. This would be her task in a normal hive with a female of his own species. He knew Drury would gladly take this task while he hunted for food. His instincts are conflicting in him. A part wanted him to go out and hunt to feed his brood, while another part told him to take over the female’s task while she was gone. Then there was the third part that was screaming how they are humans. He needed to stop and listen, but that voice lost out.

He quickly piled pillows and pressed the children down under him. Tenting them in his wings, his soft neck ruff fluffed over them as he purred loudly. Licking any tears he sees. Hannah sits in shock, watching as Shigaraki looks like a giant mother hen and the children just let him. Henry speaks for the youngsters since he is the oldest by a few months.

“How could you leave us? With Spinner! He’s worthless as a den daddy. We were so scared. Don’t you love us? Are we not your kids? Did we do something?” He screeched at Shigaraki, making a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time, grudge up in him. He felt guilty, but he couldn’t explain to the children that his instincts told him after implanting his mate that no, they are not his children.

His feelings twisted and churned in him so violently he couldn’t think of human words. Their emotions cling to his delicate feelers, a combination of stress, exhaustion, love, longing, missing. He can taste them, and they are bittersweet. He cooed and keened until they started to relax and drift off to sleep. Feeling safe for the first time in days. With their emotions settling, he can start to think.

He thinks a part of the problem is Hannah instilling her fear in the children. It was not healthy or good for them. He will have to talk to her about this.

Almost all were lulled to sleep except for Henry, whose little body jerked with each hitching snivel. His eyes are like Hannah's. He will not relax or let this go until Shigaraki answers him. He nuzzles the boy with a few sharp chirps before he talks.

“My babes. I protect and feed. No need to worry,” which was true. Not once did he leave his family hungry, “Too harsh on Spinner. Spinner would be good daddy.” Henry pursed his lips like his mom, the woman who was also technically his sister, and she had the gall to call them monsters.

“But he wasn’t. He always seemed not to know what to do without you. At least Drury worked hard at not working. She has never put any of her hang-ups on the rest of us, which is more than I can say for most of the adults in the den,” he says, eyeing mom. Shigaraki scolds him with a series of chitters before speaking to him in human tongue. Even though he agrees with Henry's assessment, it’s not his place to scold his mother.

“While I away, listen to den daddy. Trust family. Be leader for larva. Be brave. No talk to den mother that way. Is den daddy job. Want job, then no cry,” he admonishes. Henry nodded and teared up again.

“Never leave us again,” he cried. Clearly not wanting the job. He’s just a little boy, and it pulls at his heartstrings. He can’t leave them until they have recovered.

“I make no promise. But you are Shiggy’s babes. I take care. I protect, always,” He rasps, settling in. Henry drifts to sleep with the rest of them. Mary walks in and stops with the sweetest aw. She had brought him more food, and he wanted it. Hannah narrows her eyes and gets up to leave. Figuring nothing more really needs to be said. However, she does say something that shocks him for a change.

“I am so glad your home, Shigaraki. I want you to know despite our differences, I know you will make a good father. I just don’t want it to be right away. Mary is sure to stuff him with the good stuff that will keep him around,” she said before she left, her head down, trying to hide her embarrassed face from him.

He smirked and then felt a twang of guilt. He had not been treating his family very well. Hannah may be annoying to him, insisting on pushing her strange values on them. But she is reliable. Maybe he should tell her he got Drury pregnant. Mary starts to feed him, and he tosses the thought away as stupid. There is one thing he could do since he’s already here. He can trust Spinner and wait; he can also talk him up.

He knows Spinner wanted Drury to do it, but he doesn’t see why he can’t lay down the groundwork. He tries to think of things that would entice Drury.

“Spinner has two,” he says as she feeds him another bite. Mary smiles at him with curiosity.

“Two of what?”

“Two cocks,” he states, taking another bite. Mary’s body starts to jiggle and bounce in the way he likes. He has to look away. She is trying to contain her laughter. He is wondering what he said that was so funny. Drury would be too delighted by that information, but Squishy is laughing.

“Well, that is interesting. But what I really wonder is if he can do this?” She motions to the infant nesting he is performing. It would be too hard for him to explain he doesn’t know. In fact, if Drury wasn’t pregnant, he does not think he would be doing this. It’s only when his instincts kicked in did he have a desire to really think of them as his children.

“When Spinner is given chance, he come through,” was all he could think to say. Mary seemed to like this.

“Are they dead?” The Librarian screamed. Muscular wanting to rip off the man’s leg. Dabi is shaking Drury. Not in a million years did he think Drury would save someone. He hated it; it was ruining his plans, not to mention making him feel like shit.

“No thanks to you!” Muscular growled. Spinner blocked Drury with his body when the darts started shooting out of the wall while she grabbed Dabi and yanked him to the ground. That one motion got her hit in the wrist. She is frothing at the mouth, knocked out, while Spinner flops and writhes on the ground.

“It’s not my fault. This is why I said only step where I step! Quick give the girl water!” The Librarian shouted. Dabi moves as quick as he can. If either one of them dies, he’s running fast and far.

Chapter 4 < next chapter

#monster shigaraki #moth shigaraki #my hero academia shigaraki #mothman shigaraki #motharaki #boku no hero academia tomura #shigaraki tomura #sinnamon #mothura #tomura shigraki #mothman #shigaraki x oc #tomura shiragaki

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pinkhairedlily · 3 years ago

Text

He waits for her to break the spell

Prompt: Dates | AO3 link here | Connect with me on Twitter. (Belated) Happy SS Month everyone! 🌸🍅🥗 @ssskmonth

A/N: Almost 3,000 words so this is quite lengthy as well. 😅

Waves break against the cobblestones on the shore. Sasuke picks apart the shiny seaglasses with his eyes as they glint against the fading rays of the sun. His legs alternately swing with her on the seawall as they silently watch the small fishing boats dock at a nearby port. A flock of seagulls fly above them, calling it a day and coming home.

He waits for her to break the spell.

They’ve been here before, and several times the gaps were filled in with laughters, awkward conversations, and hushed confessions. He grew up with her, their houses on the same block, same primary schools, same favorite parks, but he never talked to her. But he knew her name, and she knew his. They knew each other’s families. It was one of those instances when you just saw a steady familiar face as you go through the motions of life.

He took a month’s worth of leave after the unfortunate car crash, and he settled back in quite all right, much better than his older brother who remained catatonic and would never truly grieve until his adulthood. The first week after, she followed him home, a few meters trailing behind him but close enough that he was always in her line of sight. He didn’t mind; after all, their houses were on the same block.

Then one day, she pulled his drifting mind to safety when he almost walked into an open manhole. The distances between them shortened in the following weeks until she walked beside him, even with no conversation.

She brought him here on the eve of his parents’ first death anniversary. They raced against the looming cumulonimbus with their rickety bikes after she ambushed him in front of the school gates after class. And he followed her, even when she said nothing, even when there was a storm coming.

When they arrived at the dock, the fishers were hurriedly tethering their boats to the steel posts, knowing the possibility that they will be strung away but trusting the hold the rope has, nonetheless.

It was a big storm and large drops were starting to pour down, but she stood on the edge of the seawall with arms stretched out to her side, her rose hair in disarray around her face, her eyes closed to welcome the fall of the rain. And just as the usual, he followed her, his body straining to keep upright against the gusts. He remembered feeling the rain come down like pellets, and he was sure he winced in pain. For the first seconds of that moment, he regretted coming along with her. Insane, irrational, dangerous – two teenagers soaking up the storm. But he felt it welling soon enough, the emotion he spent twelve months bottling up. It began to rack up slowly, accompanying his deep breath, and following his exhale, continuous sobs lost in the whistle of the gale.

He waits for her to break the spell.

The place has become solace for him. His signal was sometimes a pebble thrown at his window at four in the morning. Huddled up in a blanket he bunched in his bag pack, they sipped hot chocolate from the same thermos, their legs brushing against each other as they waited for the sun to rise.

“I want to be in the same class as you,” Sakura said, the blanket completely covering her head except her eyes, and he couldn’t tell whether it was a joke.

“That’s very clingy of you.” He tried to lighten it.

“And beat you in recitations and assignments and grades.”

“Clingy.” He repeated.

She loosened the blanket from her head and stuck out her tongue at him. “So what?”

So what, indeed. He only realized this as he fell into a deep sleep after they went home – they missed the sunrise, and that was their first conversation.

Sometimes the signals were just a wave – after classes at the gates – and they would bike to the seawall, just in time for the sunset. He cannot exactly pinpoint the exact date he gave her a mixtape, but the following afternoon, she brought a portable cd player and they listened to it with an earphone each on their ears.

And he doesn’t know why or what it was that triggered him, but he held her pinky finger with the long earphone wire in between. His memory was of her laughing, removing her finger momentarily from his touch and engulfing his entire hand with hers. It was warm and rough against the surface of the seawall.

He waits for her to break the spell.

They ditched prom, she dressed in an emerald dress that matched the intensity of her gaze, in two-inch heels, and messy bun of pink curls, and he in a classic black tuxedo set handed down to him by a cousin in the next city over. They would have won prom king and queen, but they traded the first dance with the meandering waltz through the busy streets in his motorcycle.

It caught him offguard, the way she looked ethereal without the distraction of a busy port or its harsh blinding lights. She was in company with the murmur of the waves and the soft echoes of a bustling city at night and his silent presence. They stood on the seawall, hand in hand, and her head was at a perfect height to lay on his shoulders thanks to her heels. She did the gesture while humming a song by The Cure. It was on her mixtape, but the title escaped him.

“Why don’t we dance, Sasuke?” She lifted her head and twirled around on the precarious ledge, her trust solely on his grip on her wrist.

“You told me you didn’t want to dance.” He pulled her in closer and placed both of her arms around his neck while his hands went to her waist.

“I want the stars as our audience,” she chided as they swayed side to side to an invisible beat. She started to sing in an offkey manner, and she laughed in between words when Sasuke didn’t bother to hide his regrets.

We’re never done with killing time, can I kill it with you

Till our veins run red and blue…

We come around here all the time

Got a lot to not do, let me kill it with you

She laughed harder when he joined her, his deep, sultry voice accompanying hers in a disconcerted rendition of the song.

You pick me up and take me home again

Head out the window again

We’re hollow like the bottles that we drain

You drape your wrist over the steering wheel, pulses can drive from here

We might be hollow, but we’re brave

“And I like you.” He reached through the small gap between their faces and captured her lips in a kiss. Soft, plump, cold. And she opened her mouth in response, welcoming his tongue with a smoldering warmth. They found their way to his empty house, his older brother a shell of pill-induced sleep, and they fell on his bed skin to skin, teeth to teeth, bones to bones. Her dress and heels on his floor and her rose strands on his pillow, fanned out and clenched through his fingers.

He waits for her to break the spell.

She was moving away. She told him this a month before graduation. Medicine in her dream school. He congratulated her with a sincere smile. He even tucked stray hair behind her ear, and she smiled back just as brightly.

Two days before her departure, they met here again at the peak of the port’s busiest harvest season. She cut her hair and dyed it black. For a change, she said.

“Why don’t you come with me?” she asked unprompted. Before this, she gave him a box of memorabilia, of things she wanted to leave behind with him.

Things she wanted to do away with. Things she doesn’t want with her.

Sasuke smirked. He put his hands inside his jacket’s pockets, afraid of holding her hands. “Why don’t you stay here with me?”

“You’re right. That was a selfish question.” She waved her hands in front of her as if to dissipate the weird atmosphere. Then, she looked at him with those piercing jade eyes. “But I wish you would, get out of this city, see the rest of the world blah blah, you know the script.”

This isn’t a miserable town when you are here, Sakura.

“Leave the grief behind,” she finished.

The doubts crept in. “So it was pity after all.”

That hit her bad, and her face contorted into a series of emotions, too fleeting for him to name everything at once. But she never got full on angry with him. The most argument they had was a cold shoulder that lasted for a month. “I was just offering you a chance to start over.”

“As if I cannot start over on my own,” he supplied.

“In this place?”

“This is my home, Sakura.”

“This isn’t mine,” she replied. “I can’t stay here. You know my dreams.”

He knew them all too well. He saw the pamphlets and brochures of the university stacked on her desk, and the map of the world gobsmacked on the wall of her room with pins on specific places and post-its of attractions. It didn’t escape him that there was no pin for their city or a post-it with his name. It was a hovering observation that haunted his head for years, and that eventually, he would have to decide.

But the world was too big for him, too expansive that he was afraid of the grief he would have unlocked at every place he stepped in. Sasuke smacked his lips together and nodded. “Keep in touch, will you?”

His hands fumbled with a box inside his pocket. I can’t follow you everywhere, Sakura.

“At least don’t remember what I felt as mere pity.”

It was a desolate moment, their seemingly absent outburst of emotions contrasted by yells of traders in the small impromptu market that assembled on the dock. She nodded, both knowing that it was an empty promise. She proceeded to stood on tiptoes, and he met her movement with an embrace as their lips touched for what felt like was a final kiss under the searing sun.

He waits for her to break the spell.

The waves come after midnight, Sasuke noticed. Sporadic sleepless nights comes in twos or threes or sevens, and he would glance at his weather application on his phone, swiping until he finds her city and wonders what she’s up to.

The text found him at his third cup of coffee before sunrise.

“It’s a great day to be out and about, sun will be shining today!”

Her city was in the middle of a hurricane path.

But she wasn’t. She was in front of his doorstep several years after she went away. Rose hair, emerald eyes, and a smile that he constantly chased in his dreams. She was back for the summer only, a quick break, a breather in her other words.

His caffeine-induced soul followed her footsteps out of his house and through the grocery aisles. He doesn’t engage her in conversation, but she has her hand in his, twirling now and then, euphoric to be in his orbit for a moment.

And he lost control of the script he prepared in his mind and the list of reasons why he shouldn’t be meeting her again because he, too, was euphoric to revolve around her again.

To refamiliarize all of her contours, to explore the new dips and marks that carved her skin, to taste the places she went to, to get a glimpse of her new batch of memories, to fill his senses with her being.

He parked his car beside the seawall one night, and Sakura waved him over, two bottles of beer already drained beside her.

“I heard Itachi got married.”

Sasuke halved his bottle before replying. “Izumi. Gentle but firm, dependable also. They liked the mountains more than the sea so they’re on the other side of the city.” He paused and drank the other half in one gulp. “How was….the world?”

“Shitty.” Sakura laughed. Spite, remorse, regret. “Med school is all right, aced it, like how you aced your law school.” A proud smile right there, and he caught that she implied she was keeping tabs on him even though there were no letters and calls, only sparse texts in few and between of the usual how are you and the default reply of I’m okay. “The rounds are what’s bad, like I’m always giving away a part of myself every time I treat. I have self-awareness and I’m empathetic, but I can only give away so much. There’s nothing I can take in return anyway. And life is moving too fast. Someone’s getting married, someone’s having a kid, and I’m stuck in scut duty with 72-hour shifts and I come home to no one.”

“And you feel lonely.” Sasuke summed it up for her.

“I wish I believed you when you told me this was my home.”

She swooped in into his space to place her lips on his mouth, and he allowed her to fill him in. He lost all reasoning when she appeared in his doorstep at the beginning of this season, and he will again lose all reasoning when it was time for her to go back. So he savored all what she could give.

Even if she was oblivious that he has given all of him, for her to take and not return. Like a boat capsizing in the middle of the storm and following the waves down to the bottom.

He waits for her to break the spell.

He waits for her to break the spell. Stars dots the transitioning purple sky, and the seaglass now glints against the moonshine. She pushes the stop button of the cd player even though it was no longer functioning, and they don’t have earphones on.

“I’m getting married.”

He knows even before she uttered the words from her own lips. He saw the band on her finger when she drifted through the grocery aisles with a silver-haired man a day ago. He twirled her in between shelves regardless of the bemused faces of onlookers, and he made her laugh out loud to the extent that she clutched at her sides.

And Sasuke wished he didn’t hear her laughter through his rushing thoughts.

“Congratulations,” he simply says.

“It just happened. He’s actually a schoolmate of ours, but he moved out to the next state for senior high. Kakashi? Does the name ring a bell?” Her face is animated when she says his name. “We met in the hospital. Turns out he’s a resident there too.”

God forbid he remembers him. All his memories conjure is this seawall and her face, her rose hair, and her emerald eyes. Sasuke doesn’t know what to reply.

She sighs. “You know what I’m trying to say. We’ve always been two halves of each other.”

He doesn’t want to reply. He wants to ask a hundred questions instead. What things remind her of him? Does any sea, dock, or fishing boat transport her to memories with him? Does she see his face in the middle of grocery aisles? Did she ever love him? Did she ever have regrets? Would they have ended up together if he followed her? Did he fight for her enough to want her to stay?

“Just a minute,” he says, but it’s almost a plea. “Just a minute more.”

And she holds on to his hand and intertwines her fingers with his against the rough surface of the seawall. She scoots closer and lays her head on his shoulder, a bit broader than what she might remember, and he hopes to gods that she is memorizing his scent just as he is memorizing the curve of her head on his neck and the feel of her now long rose strands against his cheeks.

“I love you.” Sasuke doesn’t expect a reply, and even if she does answer back, he knows all too well that they don’t have the same gravity as his.

“I love you,” she whispers in his ear.

Not a minute later she stands up, dispelling the spell that hovered between them, walking towards a place he cannot follow no matter how he wishes. And he sits on top of the seawall an hour longer, alone with the shore, the stars, and the silent dock.

He pulls out the velvet box from his pocket and stares at the ring that should have been on her finger. He closes it and flings it to the sea.

What is wrong with me that I made a fluff prompt angst? Anyway, please listen to 400 lux and Hard Feelings by Lorde for full effects. Thanks for reading!

#ssm21 #ssm21d16 #sasusaku #uchiha sasuke #haruno sakura #sasuke #sakura #lorde

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bonktime · 4 years ago

Text

Weather The Storm

Chapter 2: Hand Over Fist

Ezra (Prospect) x f!reader (no y/n) 1861 Lighthouse au

Rated: E (just the whole story)

Previous // Masterlist // Next

Art by the incredible @honestly-shite I’m so blown away 🥰💘

Summary: Ezra settles into life in the north but he can’t seem to wrap his head around the keeper. As they dance around each other a clash with another local brings some truths into the light.

Warnings: Language, violence, a boat load of sexual tension, a bunch of victorian sexism, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort? (smut will come)

Note: Written in the 3rd person so i guess you could read as oc? but I never name or describe her, except being short. I had loads of fun writing this! Loads of descriptions of the weather because that’s who I am and also touching. Next chapter will probably be a little late but please forgive me!

Wordcount: 3630

~~~~~~~~~

The wind was like nothing else. Four days at sea and Ezra was fairly sure it was making him deaf. It roared and screamed through the wood of the boat like he's never heard. Rattling anything loose and merging with the groans of the beams and the waves into a great cacophony of noise.

There was a knack to sailing in winds so strong, one he was very glad he'd got the hang of previously else he would probably have been tossed overboard that first morning. Even so the violent movement of the ship beneath him had been a surprise. Any time he put anything down he had to keep a close eye or it would end up on the other side of the room. It made sleep exceedingly difficult when being tossed out of the hammock was a possibility, so he was lucky to get a couple of hours between shifts.

The work was hard and one particularly malicious seagull had made off with a biscuit he had been about to take a bite out of, combined with the lack of sleep and the rolling waves, it had made him irritable at best down right foul at worst. Still, the rest of the crew were likable and only jibed in a good humoured way at the newcomer. And, whenever the bite of the cold got too much, he had a new memory to warm him up. Even so as they came into port on that forth morning, he was picturing that warm bed and the flickering firelight.

On the walk back along the sea something caught his eye. He stopped to pick it up.

⧫⧫⧫

Ezra arrived just as the keeper was leaving the lighthouse. She saw him crossing the causeway, as the sun peeked over the horizon, turning the sky every colour from deep blue to the brightest pink. He waved at her as she waited for him to approach, unable to help but admire her. Dressed in blue, she contrasted against the sky and its reflection in the water. She positively shone. As he got close, he smiled.

"It would appear I was wilfully incorrect about something"

"About what?" She cocked her head at him

"There is colour here. But to witness it you must have patience. "

He took a step closer. holding out his hand "I discovered this on my meander back to your charming abode, I believe you would appreciate it." In her hand he gently placed a chunk of sea glass, worn soft by the sands but still bright deep blue. He stayed close as she held it up to let the sun shine through. She could smell the sea on him, salty and something else. Looking up at him she wondered why he had been so thoughtful. "It's beautiful, thank you" he smiled at her, eyes creasing warmly.

⧫⧫⧫

A week passed and they talked in the mornings but their days never seemed to line up so they could only see each other for meals. Ezra spent his evenings in the living room, reading by the fire whenever he was home, and his mornings wandering the coast to distract himself from the woman in the water.

Once on his walk he met the other keeper. The man had looked exhausted as if he was carrying a weight on his shoulders. He didn't say much, just to give his thanks to the other keeper and then he'd hurried away.

Further down the shoreline he liked to watch the market get set up. Watch the women waiting for the fishing boats to get in, preparing to gut and fillet and sell. He chatted to them sometimes, offering a hand carrying out the tables if they needed it. One girl always gave him a cup of tea after, laughing at his jokes and smiling. She was pretty and definitely would have caught his eye before. But now? He was friendly enough, and polite, but just couldn't work out why he was so uninterested. It wasn't like him. She made a nice friend though, and it was pleasant to get to know someone apart from the keeper even if he wasn't staying too long. And even if he didn't know the keeper all that well.

Ezra mentioned a woman he met at the fishery to the keeper. As much as she knew and liked her, it stung in a way the keeper couldn't quite identify. She was kind and soft and pretty and just the opposite of her. All of her hard edges and bitterness and isolation. But she didn't have any good cause or right to feel envious. Still, she thanked him for the warning, should she come across them together at least she wouldn’t be surprised.

⧫⧫⧫

There was another week of only seeing each other in the wee hours before both Ezra and the keeper had a shared day off.

He offered to come with her into town and help carry things. Mostly he just wanted her to show him around which she knew but she agreed anyway.

The sun showed itself as they walked together warming their skin. He watched the keeper raise her head to bask in it, smiling as she tried to explain what she needed from town with him interrupting after every item to ask questions.

She was glowing and it was starting to affect Ezra. Her skirt was pinned up a little above her ankles so it didn't dip in the sand and she'd forgone her usual headscarf and shawl to enjoy the sun. She had laughed at him as they'd left, at all his layers, called him a southern pansy. He'd grinned "Not everyone is so accustomed to this frigid weather. The cold bites those who it has not made an acquaintance with. Not unlike a wary dog."

"If you stayed a few winters here and swam in the North Sea you'd end up as hardy as any of us I reckon" he'd just smirked.

⧫⧫⧫

The keeper decided Ezra spoke just the way he did just to confuse people. Every time she’d asked him what a word meant he had grinned, but he did explain without condescension. He had spent nearly an hour chatting away to the grocer when she’d gone to the butcher and the baker. Upon asking, it turned out he had been trying to find a fruit he was fond of, but all the frills in his speech had led to a debate between the owners about what he had meant which he had then stayed quiet during just for enjoyment. When she had gone back to find him he was grinning ear to ear as the two men bickered. She had suppressed a laugh and sorted it out quickly before they had gotten even more irked by the outsider. Ezra had seen the laugh in her eyes though.

The final stop was the bookshop. A small place, stacked floor to ceiling and owned by the keeper’s oldest friend. She was sitting outside in the sun and jumped up wrapping the keeper in a warm hug.

"Lass you work too fucking hard. I haven't seen hide nor hair of you in Christ knows how long!"

She grinned; the first time Ezra had seen it. He should make her grin more.

"Aye I'm starting to agree, how're the bairns at this rate they'll have grown a foot before I can see them again. Oh, shit sorry.” She gestured to him “This is my lodger Ezra, Ezra this is Amelia."

He wonders vaguely if everyone the keeper knows can give looks that pierce the soul. He gives the shopkeeper a nod and her face breaks into a smile. As they headed into the shop, clouds began to gather overhead.

"Come on pet, I've got something new I just know you'll love."

The shop seemed ready to burst at the seams. Ezra paroused but couldn’t stop himself listening into their conversation.

“How have you been, really? I worry about you all alone up there.” Amelia asked her eyes full of concern. Ezra subtly rounded a bookshelf so he wouldn’t seem nosey.

“I… Well I’ve been worse like. Every day is easier and I’m not alone at the moment as you’ve seen.”

“You seem to collect sailors, you.”

The keeper laughed “I just like the company! And I like being alone the rest of the time as you well know.”

“Oh aye the company. Nothing to do with,” Amelia lowered her voice “I divn’t nah… the roguishly good looks? You always loved a bit of trouble, dafty that you are”

“Hey! He just rents the room, we’re… friends I guess.” Ezra wished he could see her to gage how she really felt.

“Sure you pet.”

⧫⧫⧫

20 minutes later they left, a copy of Great Expectations wrapped carefully in tissue paper and stowed at the bottom of her bag, surrounded so it would stay dry should it rain. As they stepped out a woman seized the keeper's arm, she was accompanied by the vicar and glaring viciously. The keeper swallowed and introduced Ezra, he saw how uncomfortable she was, how her mood had changed since just minutes before.

"The ever elusive keeper shows herself yet again" the vicar speaks, face impassive, "I thought you might have died since you don't attend church, perhaps you'd met god's reckoning after… being so loose with your commitments."

Ezra watches her jaw clench "I have told you before, when I work the night, I cannot attend in the morning."

The other women smirked "Work the night is one way of putting it." She eyed Ezra.

The vicar sighed "It is disappointing you disobey god's will. Your father should have married you off while he had the chance. Then your husband would keep you in line. If he could see you now, he'd be so ashamed"

Ezra froze but before he could react, he saw the rage pass over her face, fiery and passionate. She couldn't help it, she saw red, couldn't stop herself. She punched the vicar square on the nose.

The other woman shrieked. "What is wrong with you? You've hurt him!" Indeed, blood did start to drip out of his nose but he straightened himself up and grabbed the keepers arm pulling her close and raising his fist to strike.

"You're nothing but a worthless little whore. It's no wonder your sailor left as soon as you-" he was cut off by Ezra's fist, catching his jaw and sending him sprawling.

"I will not abide you speaking to the lady in this manner." He shook out his hand, and stepped over him, bending to seize his hair and pressing his blade to his neck "And to strike her?" He scowled down at the man who was opening and shutting his mouth like a fish. "What is that mantra you holy men spout? Turn the other cheek." The keeper's jaw dropped, she had known Ezra was rough around the edges but to strike a man of God, to threaten him, for her?

Against the incoming storm, it was as if he'd grown. Become huge and monstrous and brutal in a way she hadn't seen, a glimpse of what lay beneath all his beautiful words and pleasant disposition. It moved something in the keeper, something dangerous. Not many people would far defend her, let alone in such a way.

Lightning flashed overhead forking down to meet the sea, in the light she could see the hard glint in his eye, the one he'd worn when they'd first met, even as he smiled. This was a man who had done far worse and all she could feel was grateful. It squeezed around her heart.

"I suspected as much. You must have forgotten yourself for a moment." Ezra stood and pulled the vicar to his feet, squeezing his arm harshly still baring that viscous grin as he pulled him close and murmured "I'd truly hate for you to suffer another grievous lapse in judgement, who knows what may become of you."

The keeper looked at the other woman "Judge not lest ye be judged? You had better pray for forgiveness.” She stepped forwards shoulders back as thunder rumbled around them “There's a storm coming and your husband works the water. I'd hate for the lord to compel me to make an error." The woman gasped at her a cold glare. Ezra looked at the keeper as she straightened out her dress. He could have laughed at her nonchalance, it gave him pause, how he saw her quiet power. She would make quite the foe. She gave Ezra a nod and he took her arm as they walked away.

He can feel how tense she was through her arm, despite her calm demeanour panic and anxiety were coming off her in waves. They walked back along the beach in silence as the heavens opened, pouring rain down around them. Ezra frowned to himself, perhaps with all the flitting around he had forgotten how to behave. Had lost some of himself, every old sin chipping away at his humanity was taking its toll. He'd come here for some fucking quiet, why did he always find trouble, or make it? Perhaps those years… he wasn't good. Punching a priest though? The keeper was a menace.

Half way he stopped turning her to look at him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were married?" she looked away from him at the waves. White horses were being blown, throwing spray up into the air.

"I never was. He left before we could."

The rain beating down made it hard to look up at him, it dripped into her eyes and ran down her face like tears. The rain and thunder were near deafening as he looked at her face, saw the pain and the other emotion, the one he can't identify.

"What happened?" He nearly has to shout to be heard over the storm and the waves. Reaching for her, taking her hand and feeling the calluses on her fingers.

"What always happens! I fell in love, and I thought he did too. But after, after we. He did what sailors always do." she threw off his hand and stepped back, the sea lapping at her ankles.

"What is it sailors always do? I do not appreciate you painting us all with such broad strokes." Now he's shouting, a bit out of frustration but mostly to be heard as the wind begins to howl, merging sea spray and rain until the only thing he could see was her.

"He sailed away!" She was suddenly very grateful for the rain; he couldn't see the tears that had rolled down her face. He frowned at her a deep furrow in his brow. "And so, he's right! I am a whore and probably everything else too." She looked wild, wind whipping her skirt to and fro. She glared at him, daring him to judge her. "I was relieved! I didn't want to marry him, he wanted to leave and I didn't. I enjoyed what we did!" She pressed her palm to her forehead. No idea how he would react. "He could’ve said goodbye" she whispered it, let the crash of the waves muffle the sound.

To her surprise he tugged her hand away from her face, looking into her eyes, jaw set, rain plastering his hair to his head.

"Let's go home."

Keeping her hand gently clasped in his he led her along the beach to the island.

⧫⧫⧫

Both of them were soaked to the bone by the time they had re-entered the cottage. Ezra could feel the keepers hand trembling in his.

"Go change out of that wet garb, I'll light the blaze in the living room and set the water to boil"

She nodded and entered her room as he did his own. He quickly pulled off his wet clothes and tugged on a fresh shirt surprised to hear her call out to him.

"Ezra, can you help me?"

He entered her room slowly, still only in his long shirt, taking it in. The bed was wide enough for two and had as many blankets as his own, there was a small wardrobe and a chest and a stack of books on a bedside table. On top of which he saw the glass he'd given her, not yet added to the chime in the window.

She was in her corset and chemise, back to him, dripping onto the rag-rug on the floor.

"I can't seem to," she was reaching behind herself. "With it wet and my damn swollen knuckles I can't loosen the tie. Please, can you help?"

He swallowed thickly as she looked back at him then away. Gently he reached for her, big hands and nimble fingers beginning to loosen the knot. "I'll take a look at that hand if you would allow me, check you haven't done any tangible damage." She nodded.

As he finished, he couldn't help brushing his fingers across the bare skin of her shoulder. It was soft and warm under his cold fingers. She stiffened slightly and turned to him, looking up at his face. His frown remained but that steely glint was gone, giving way to wide sad eyes. She looked at his hands, big, strong and bruised. She took one in her own, inspecting the cut across his knuckles.

"You needn't hurt yourself in defence of me, I shouldn't have hit him." She gently rubbed her thumb over the swelling to check her hadn't dislocated anything and tried to ignore how he tensed.

"I could not abide his hurting you, not with his words and certainly not with his fist" he turned her hand mirroring her gesture to feel her knuckles, they were swollen but nothing felt out of place. He kept a hold of her hand as he looked back up at her face.

She looked into his eyes, deep and dark enough to fall into. They stared back into hers without hesitation. She held his hand for just a moment longer before letting go. As she did, he turned and left, closing the door gently behind him.

He didn't give her the chance to thank him.

⧫⧫⧫

When she had dressed and headed down stairs, Ezra was pouring tea, he looked up. She was still dishevelled and shivering a little.

"Come on, let's get warmed up"

He led her through to the living room and sat her down on the rug in front of the fire handing her a cup of tea. Sitting down across from her he spoke, his legs brushed hers as he stretched out but he didn’t move away.

"What I cannot apprehend is why you don't want to depart this glacial place. You are not treated compassionately and there are locations all over with preferable climates."

She gave a small smile. "Because I like it here, it isn't perfect but I have my friends and my work and my home and where would I go? How well do you think the world would treat a woman like me?"

He shrugged, "People may surprise you. They have me on many occasions. I even astonish myself sometimes"

"Or they'll behave exactly as they always do. People are predictable like that." She sighed and sipped her tea. The warmth of the fire finally took an effect. "It seems we are at an imbalance. You know plenty about me, although not because I wanted you to. How about you tell me where you got that accent?"

He grinned. "I suppose I can reveal a little information. If only for the sake of equality."

So, he told her. Told her about his home, his mother, about when she passed. How he had to work to survive and found that he didn't get seasick. He picked up words and dialect wherever he went, combining them with his own until he wasn't sure what he used to sound like. She had laughed at him upon learning he wasn't a strong swimmer.

"I can't believe you haven't been thrown overboard and drowned yet! You're unbelievably lucky!" He'd loved the sound.

He missed out a lot of the more unsavoury details of the work he’d done but the whitewashed version was honest enough. How going back to where he grew up still hurt, he had only visited once. Instead, he travelled, worked, and enjoyed himself.

"I don't know. You said I must be lonely here but you, you travel alone. You can't make good friends, you've no home to return to." She watched his face. "It seems you're far more alone than I am"

His brow furrowed "We can agree to disagree on that."

"And I still don't understand why you're here. Why aren't you somewhere warm?"

He shrugged and avoided the question, "If I wasn't, I would not have had the astounding pleasure of meeting you."

She frowned at how he ignored her question, but brushed it off.

The rain was finally beginning to ease as Ezra dozed off. Sitting on the floor slumped against the chair by the fire. He looked peaceful, no shadows playing behind his eyes, so she didn't wake him. Instead as the sun dipped, she laid a blanket over him and went to light the light.

The winds had made for a tense shift. Always keeping a weather eye on the sea for ships that might have got into trouble but eventually the sun rose and she stopped the clockwork and went back to the cottage.

Ezra had already left to get to The Mistress and she was surprised at the slight sting that they hadn't got to say goodbye. Next time she'll wake him.

She was even more surprised by how much she missed his company.

~~~~~~~~

Glossary

Hand over fist: Going forth rapidly in an endeavour, comes from ‘hand over hand’ when climbing the rigging.

Bairns: Kids, affectionate

Divn’t nah: Don’t know, couldn’t not include this

Dafty: fool, idiot, affectionate

~~~~~~~~

Taglist

Ezra

@fandom-blackhole

WTS

@something-tofightfor

Because I crave validation

@danniburgh

#weather the storm #ezra prospect #ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect 2018 #prospect 2018 #ezra prospect fanfiction #prospect fanfiction #ezra x oc

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Scottrospective: Scott Pilgrim Vs the Universe or So Sad So Very Very Sad

Hello all you happy Scottaholics! And welcome back to Scottrospective, my 8 part look at Scott Pilgrim: all 6 volumes of the comic as well as the game and movie just in time for their respective 10th Anniversaries. If your just joining us or needa quick refresher, here are links to the other four parts, in order: Precious Little Life, Vs The World (Comic), Infinite Sadness, and last month’s look at my favorite volume Gets It Together. And if that’s not enough to fill your belly with Scotty Goodness, hop over to my patreon, patreon.com/popculturebuffet. There you’ll find reviews of all the content I didn’t have time for in the retrospective proper: Free Scott Pilgrim, The Wonderful World of Kim Pine, Monica Beetle, Style, and the bonus comic strips. It’s only a dollar to get access to the bonus reviews, and every bit you can give not only helps me make these reviews int he first place, but gets me closer to my stretch goals, the 25 and 30 dollar ones including looks at O’Malley’s Other Works: Lost At Sea and Seconds for the former and Snotgirl for the latter.

But more than plugging my past and paid works, there’s something else far more important I need to get to before I get into this one: Thank You. No Seriously thank all of you who have been reading these, liking them. My Precious Little Life Review is easily one of the most liked things i’ve ever had on this blog, getting more viewers every day, and last month’s look at Gets it Together is STILL racking up likes. Given most of my non-duck reviews, paid for and on my own time, tend to be ignored half the time, this just warms my heart. It shows me two great things: that even after a decade Scott Pilgrim still has a huge following and given how young this platform tends to skew that it’s gaining more fans every day, and that people care about what I have to say about htis wonderful comic. It really touches me to both know my voice matters and that something I truly loved as a teen and still do now is STILL picking up more and more fans. What i’m saying is you guys are the best and I wouldn’t be doing these reviews without your support of my very hard work. These are some of the hardest reviews i’ve done at times, but seeing you all enjoy them makes it all worth it.

As for the Volume itself there’s something I just gotta get off my chest right away: I HATED this volume when it came out. To understand why you have to consider my mental state: I was a teenager at the time, in my junior year of high school. Scott Pilgrim was my goddamn world: while I was picking up comics monthly at the time this was honestly the first north american comic I loved and obessed over and Scott and friends were like family to me. To an awkward teen who couldn’t talk to girls, struggled to keep the video game club a friend founded together in a way that in hindsight was wholly unecessary, and getting messed with due to my anger issues by friend, foe and frenemy alike, Scott was my port in the storm. A sunny version of Tornoto where I could retreat to to feel at peace.

So yeah this shattered the fuck out of that peace and was essentially one long slow motion kick to the balls to a younger me: Hollie gets derailed and horribly betrays Kim, runing my faviorite characters life and leading to her LEAVING, Scott and Ramona’s relationship crumbles, the band breaks up , and the volume ends with Gideon still gunning for our hero because life hadn’t punched him in the face enough for one month. I was livid, not stopping the series, obviously, but upset that everything i’d grown to care about was basically gone in a flash and couldn’t understand WHY O’Malley would fucking do this to me. This volume was also what kept me from re-reading the books for as long as I did as while the rest had fond memories all the ones I had of this one were pure misery.

But by the time i re-read it in december of last year I had two important things in my hands that helped me truly enjoy this one: The first was Volume 6 itself: knowing things would work out, that most of the bad stuff would be undone and in a truly awesome and satisfying way helped.

The other thing was the perspective that came with growing older: For one as an adult while I still like Scott as a character and find him intresting I no longer look up to him, nor put stock in his hapiness for his own. Sure I still care about characters and relate to some, but Bojack Horseman taught me the hard way you CAN’T put all your hopes in a character’s fate or them getting better for you to get better.

The other is that while this volume again is pretty bleak after a while.. it’s also NECESSARY. Part of the series charm is i’ts realisim and a sad part of real life is people can drift apart from you, and things can change seemingly all at once. And things moving the way they do is necessary for the ending: every step and move here puts things where they need to be for the final chapter. The pain our heroes go through is necessary so they can all grow.. except Stephen and Wallace. Stephen sucks and Wallace dosen’t need to change. He does need his own spinoff. But for Scott, Ramona and Kim the trials to come are necessary to make them into their best selves by series end.

So join me under the cut as we get sad so very very sad, this is Scott Pilgrim vs the Universe.

Precious Little Life: We open with Scott’s Birthday! Hit it MC Chris!

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But yes it’s septmeber and Scott is now 24 years old. Also Julie is there because presumibly Stephen dredged her out of her swamp for the evening despite Julie likely not wanting to be there and Scott sure a shell not wanting her there. He vows that he will be the best 24 year old ever...... yeah let’s take a brief look into the future to see how that pans out

But we have a full volume and more metaphorical rakes to whack Scott in the face before that paticular one.

A MONTH AND A FEW DAYS LATER

It’s the day of the dead, whoa ho way down in Tornoto. It’s hosted by Satan Herself, who dosen’t realize the holiday for hags was yesterday. This is for remembering the dead and rising out of the grave to go resuce your young wards by ramming a bunch of guys in butterfly costumes with your car or stealing your children’s kidneys. This is Rat Girl’s new place, a fancy loft she and 3 other girls went on to throw the best parties beaause of course. She’s also a bitch to our hero and heroine because of course.

But Scott soon has more important things to worry about: Ramona spots his next two opponents.. the twins hinted at last time, Kyle and Ken Kataynagi, Perfect Jerk and Handsome Asshat respectively.

Kyle and Ken are easily the least intresting of the 7 exes. With the other 4 so far having been a loveable ham, a stoic movie star whose suprisingly nice and dies via skateboard, a gloriously douchey and dumb psychic evil version of our much more loverable dumb douche with personal connections to both him and Ramona, and Roxy who was genuinely sympathetic, held back by her own selfishness and anger.. we get.. two smug assholes who use robots. Their not UNINTRESTING, the robots have cool designs and the fight with them is genuinely exciting.. but they just don’t have the charisma or personal factor. Their jsut two assholes ramona dated at the same time who happen to know more about her well guarded past than the other exes and are more liable to bring it up.. and even then it’s not anything new as Envy pulled similar tactics far more intrestingly in volume 3. THey don’t ruin the volume or anything, thier fine, but I just wish O’Malley had done more. Especially since he clealry had more intresting ideas with them: the sound battle we saw in the movie was an early draft of this and one early draft had Scott’s previously unseen brother Laurence working with them. I don’t knowWHY he scrapped that as it raises the stakes and makes this far more personal for Scott. Which at this point is what the exes SHOULD be: Todd and Roxy BOTH were more personal threats, Todd being his ex’s boyfriend and first love and Roxy being a genuine competior for Ramona. These guys again are just two douchers who show up because we need 7 douchers to complete the doucher circle.

So the twins declare their not going to fight scott.. and instead send a tiny robot to fight him. Awww. But for this fight O”Malley does something really intresting and creative.. he dosen’t focus on it. No really Ken and Kyle are dicks to Ramona so Kim wisely gets her out of there, and the two have a casual talk on the balcony while Ramona smokes. It’s some fun banter between the two that both shows why their shipped to all hell. The two just play off each other really damn well. Though we also get Craphole asking people if they want to come watch Scott get beat up because the worst.

Something important character stuff comes up though: As was shown last time at her rightful rage that Stephen HAD an opportunity to book a gig and kept refusing it for his fecking album, Kim is still fairly salty about the whole recording an album bullshit. The biggest part of it..

It’s something you really DON’T expect to here coming out of kim: that she really LIKED the band. But beneath the pillar of salt she puts out daily... these were her friends, this was getting to do something creative and passionate, and it was a break from the daily grind. Even if her job isn’t TERRIBLE, getting to watch movies and hang out with her best friend Clerks style.. it’s still a retail job and those still weigh on you.. though frankly i’d take one of those over food service but sadly tha’ts what i get most of the time. This was fun.. and Stephen ripped that away from her for his own selfish reasons. No one else in the band really cared about making an album.. if Stephen REALLY wanted to find a more professional band.. then he should’ve just told them so Scott and Kim could find someone else to do guitars for them. Instead he forced them into doing something they don’t want to do and refuses to actually play shows, which COULD help both perfect songs for the album version and get them new fans for said upcoming album and provide them recurring venues to SELL said album, because he really just wants to be with Joseph and fuck anyone else. Stephen is really just an inhernetly selfish git and i’ll get more into that in a bit. But first Wallace has a text for Scott.

Now I COULD have just skipped over this.. but I didn’t want to. Plus we dont’ se Wallace for a while in this story so i’m taking what I can get.

So back to Stephen being a repugnant ass. I’ve been waiting for this scene for the entire retrospective. I”ve hinted at it, and largely blamed it for why I hate him so damn much. The time is nigh to explain WHY.

Stephen is with Knives, as the two are close friends and such. Stephen expalins Sex Bomb-Omb isn’t playing because he and the personfication of bitchiness broke up. Which knives points out is for...

But it’s clear from context this was the LAST time. Why he still got invited I dunno, plot convience. So far so normal.. until Stephen picks up that Knives is STILL hung up on Scott. Which is understandable crushes can last a while but i’ts equally understandable that Stephen is utterly baffled by it. Which I get, I didn’t make an entire tom lucitor retropsecitve because I liked that his relationship with Star ended with him stepping aside due to what the show thought was “true wuv” but what comes off instead as his self loathing casuing him to blame himself for a realtionship that’s crumbling for reasons that aren’t his fault.

And his actions here are incredibly well meant: He bluntly gives Knives the wake up call she DOES need: Scott cheated on her, he dated her because she was easy to date, strung her along for a bit while seeing someone else, then dumped her with not one care for her well being. That is stuff she NEEDS to get into her head so she can move on. She needs to see him for what he IS and not for what she’s built him up as in her head. And while yeah his rant DOSNE’T take into account the fact Scott geninely tried to make up for his actions in volume 3, Stephen wasn’t there for that and Knives probbably didn’t tell him about it. So from his point of view scott broke her heart and did nothing.. and evne IF he knew that, Scott still hasn’t tried to do anything since despite Knives still being obessed with him nor come clean to her or Ramona at any point. Scott deserves this call out and the consequences that come with it.

So your probably wondering WHY I hate Stephen because of this scene when he’s you know, RIGHT. Well it’s simple: being right dosen’t save you from being a MASSIVE hypcorite. He’s railing on Scott for cheating and hurting someone.. when he cheated on Julie and would’ve hurt her if she had the capacity for human emotion, empathy, or self awarness. The ending of the last volume and how bad, even for them, their relationship was implied the hell out of it, with him nervous when she brings up being paranoid over knives.. as if he WAS cheating. on One Face just not with a teenage girl but a grown ass man who hates everyone as much as BLARARARGAGAG does.

Not only that.. but he was with Julie for the SAME DAMN reasons Scott was with Knives: it was easy. Now I WILL grant Stephen some sympathy: he’s a queer man and as one myself, bi for the record, I GET how fucking hard it is to come to terms with that, that what you thought you were isn’t ENITRELY true or, if Stephen is gay and not bi or pan, ENIRELY FALSE. So I do have some care that it was hard for him to sort all this out. I do and that Jospeh could’ve seduced him or what not. We don’t have all the context here. But he STILL cheated at the end of the day instead of telling her he was queer until MONTHS later. And why yes the fact I have to feel bad for JULIE does make it that much worse. And yes their relationsihp COULD simply be that toxic or she could’ve gaslit him, but it seemed more like their relationship was messy breakups and getting back together over and over. While Julie IS vile, she’s not a domestic abuser mental or physical as far as I can tell. She’s a bitch and their relatioship is unehlathy but there was no indication their relationship involved gaslighting or evne phsyical violence: it was just fucked from minute one. So yeah he stayed in an awful relationship beacuse it was easier than coming out, when he should’ve broken it off as soon as it was clear he and Joseph were actually going somewhere. Waiting while he figured out who he was is one thing, tha’ts fiar, but cheating on someone just because you don’t have the nerve to break it off with them when their genuinely awful to you and your only hurting them as much as they can be hurt by dragging this out... yeah that just makes you an ass.

Another point of contention is that he NEVER called Scott out on this. Never. Not even after this scene. Never encouraged him to tell Ramona or apologize to Knives, again he didn’t know Scott already had tried that. Never gets on him.. he just ignores Scott’s shitty behavior like eveyrone else and unlike Kim, whose still got unresolved feelings and is at the very least clearly bothered by his shitty behavior, and Neil, whose young and thus like me likely looked up to Scott at the time, he dosen’t have an excuse other than “Well I don’t want to ruin our friendship by actually calling him out when he does something objectivionally awful.” Especially since Wallace DID actually take action: he didn’t break up the relationship or say anythign to Ramona, which is wrong... but he did tell scott flat out after his first date with Ramona to break up with Knives. And when Scott chickned out of that, Wallace gave him the ultimatium, may it live in empathy, to do so or he WOULD tell Ramona. And at least Wallace has a motive for not telling Ramona other than “I don’t want to risk my friendship with a guy I really don’t care about and think is shitty”. He wanted to see Scott recover from Envy, something Stephen never gave ONE. SHIT. ABOUT. He saw Ramona was good for him and knew telling her, while the RIGHT thing to do, would severely harm Scott, and by volume 4 leave him homeless. Plus Wallace frankly enabled him for some time anyway, letting him live at their place rent free and paying for all his food and frequently letting Scott steal his credit card. WIth Wallace at least while it’s not the RIGHT move, it’s understandable and complicated vs Stephen who really dosen’t seem to like or get along with Scott after volume 1, suddenly cares what happens to his relationship.

And what proves this... is this little exchange that ends the conversation.

Knives despite her issues, despite blinding herself to how Scott treated her, despite everything... thinks Ramona should know. And she’s right. And Stephen KNOWS THIS. He knows it was the right thing to do and just.. takes a swig instead of admitting he’s a fucking hypocrite or explaining himself in any way. He NEVER cared about Ramona’s feelings or how this would effect her or saw her as important in any way shape or form. Kim at least clearly feels guilty. Wallace clearly is only doing so because it’s better for both her and Scott that their together and is a flawed human being. Stephen.. just dosen’t do so out of some masculine bullshit code of not ratting out your friend and his own cowardace. He clearly COULD go walk up to Ramona right now and tell her, but he won’t. And again I don’t buy he honeslty cares enough about Scott for their friendship to TRULY be enough of a factor to stop that. Fuck. Stephen. Stills.

So Scott wins naturally, but is bummed there’s no reward.. but Stephen points out there’s tons of free food over yonder so he noms before he and Ramona leave.

We get some cute domestic bits with Scott and ramona: Scott playing games on her phone all day, the two cooking dinner, and Scott admititng he hasn’t thought of envy at all. “I have you now”. Though through it there are some signs of unease: Scott finds a letter to Gideon, and Ramona asks about her hair and stares out into the window. Nice little hints that even before the big bomb abotu to drop she’s not at ease.. she loves Scott.. but it’s hard for her to let herself BE happy. It’s easy to wager she wasn’t for most of her life.

Can’t Face Up

So next we find Sex Bomb-Omb working on the album. Or rather Stephen and Joseph are. Scott and Kim are praying for death but death won’t come and Kim wonders why the fuck this isn’t finished. Joseph wants her out of his house... forgetting that Kim lives in said house.

Still his expressoin implies he’s going to do a murder on her if she stays in the room and since Drummers are hard to come by Stephen spirits them to kim’s room for a band meeting. Turns out they do have a gig but naturally Rosemary’s Baby booked it... and they haven’t practiced in months because Stephen’s a moron. He theorizes it’s Freddy’s Revenge, which is admitely probably valid though Kim can TELL something worse happened Stephen won’t cop to because he’s a piece of shit. I spent several paragraph’s establishing that. They try blaying and two sucktacular minutes i’ts clear their fucked sunday.

So after a scene of Knives trying HARD to justify Scott’s actions and blame htem on Ramona, to no success, we get one of my faviorite parts of this book: Scott rambling on for god knows how long about the x-men while Ramona gets dressed and is presumibly barely listneing.

I relate so hard to this it hurts. While not this era I wll GLADLY go on and on about X-Men and anything X-Adjacent at any goddamn opportunity and anyone who reads my blog on a regular basis and you know this. I need to tlak more x-men outside of my slowly failing New X-Men retrospective (Which is on the back burner because no one seeems to genuinely care after chapter one). If I did have a signifgant other, they would probably end up in a situation like this quite a lot and i’d have no shame about it.

I also love this scene even more as while I DID love x-men at the time, I wasn’t quite the mega fan I was, nor as familiar with Claremont’s long, epic and often fucking weird in the special wonderful way only comics can run. Given I OWN over half his run at this point, that has changed. Though oddly not this part. So not only do I get Scott’s talking about x-men I Know what SPECIFICALLY.

And for the unitatied, a quick explination of what the fuck Scott’s going on and on about: In the late 80′s, the x-men fought a reality warping malevolent trickster god named the Adversary. IN order to beat him their friend forget had to perform a cermony to lock his ass away that required willingly given life forces. The X-Men did REALLY fucking die.. but the Goddess Roma, daughter of Merlin and enemy of the advesary brought them back to life. With their deaths having been broadcast on live tv, and with tons of dangerous enemies at their heels, the X-Men choose to let the world continue to think they were dead so they could hit said enemies where it hurt.

SO this is where Scott’s story comes in:The X-Men’s first mission was clearing out the reavers, a bunch of racist cyborgs, from a ghost town which they took over as their base. As Scotty said they traveled all over the world, fought aliens, more racists, and then went to New York as it literally went ot hell. it’s a LOT and I haven’t read most of that era. I just know about it. I have read that last part though: the x-men were ambushed while wolveirne was away by said racist cyborgs so Psylocke shoved them through the siege perilous, a gate thingy romana gave them that would give them a new life and amnesia and such, leaving wolveirne to get crucified till Jubilee, who’d been hiding in their base gary busey style, freed him. The two would travel the world, find psylocke body swapped which is why she was asian for several decades, and get into general stuff for a few years real time till the X-Men slowly reunited. And you probbaly dind’t need to hear all of that but your life is better for knowing it.

As you can tell Ramona’s discontent is mounting. And probably not because of Scott rambling about x-men. Last night he told her about the time Magneto beat them all because they stupidly rushed him one at a time then forced them into high tech chairs while a robotic nanny babbied them and then esecaped because shut up before fighting magneto, getting surrounded by lava and having beast ASSUME they were dead because fuck actually coming back and searching just in case like a rational human being because magma or no the x-men have surivived worse, including the depths of space, and restoring all of reality from scratch. I may of just read those issues tonight.

She procedes to make things worse for our hero as when he asks fo rher advice.. she reveals she dosen’t like his band.. and while she means nothing BY that, she’s nice about it, telling him his band sucks days before a sudden show where you guys eat a lot isn’t something you do. Wallace is naturally even less helpful and maybe his not liking the band is why we barely see him interact. Maybe he just figured Stepheen was on the fence sexuality wise but wasn’t willing to put up with Julie to test that. I dunno.

So at the restraunt Stephen’s a dick, refusing to help Scott with his problems. WHich for once are legitamte as he worries abotu Ramona keeping secrets. He just wants to talk about hte band.. but 48 or something hours after this he has no real plan.

Scott mopes to Kim about Ramona and she has some sage advice for him...

Also thing one and thing two are at the bar with a remote. This cannot end well... granted givne our heroes are not at all prepared and are playing two diffrent songs, this was never going to end well.

And things only get worse for Scott in the bathroom.. he’s not there.. but his girlfriend and his ex are. Knives tries to work it out.. but Ramona being a bit short with her, which is fair given Knives tried to stab her a bunch a few months back and never apologized, leading to a quick fight.. but with Knives heart not in it this time and Ramona pissed and this time NOT confsued as to what the hell ihs going on, it ends with Ramona slamming knives into a wall... and Knives sadly revealing the truth to Ramona...

The scene hits like a truck with both devistated.. Ramona not having realized Scott with this shitty.. and Knives FINALLY accepting that he is. Finally letting her obession with him drop and realize what he was and what he did and let the full impact hit. The last part also hits hard “No One Else Would’ve Told You’. It’s a sad hard truth and it’s CLEARLY something that hits both women hard. For Knives it’s realizing Kim and Stephen, who she’s increidbly close to at this point, both don’t have the stomach to do the right thing, and thus hid this from her and Ramona. Stephen DID tell her.. but he still didn’t have the guts to tell RAMONA nor the actual care. It’s the realization the people she looked up to truly let her down and that she had to do what they couldn’t, even if it tore her apart to do it. For Ramona it’s realizing her closest friends outside of Scott could’ve told her and never did. No matter how close she’s gotten to Kim and Wallace, neither gave a fuck about her rights or her need to know.

So Ramona is rattled and barely speaks while Scott has been fighting anothe rrobot and ends the gig accidnetly smashing his bass. Stephen is pissy with him and blames hi mfor runing the gig, which turned out to be a trap anyway complete with fliers.

Ramona decides to gently throw him out as he forgot his keys while his other friends won’t house him leaving him with the one friend he has who dosen’t hate him right now. WALLACE!

The Glow:

So at Casa De Welles, Wallace has some buddy time, not making any bones about the fact Ramona clearly threw Scott out for the night and wearing a neat robe. Scott mopes about the fact he hasn’t met mobile whose apparenlty on the astral plane. I wonder if he has any buisness with Emma.. I mean the x-men did live in san fran sicsio but given decimation didn’t have many psychics. Might’ve been tryign to get another one. THey didn’t have a whole island that walks like a man yet. And while Wallace wasn’t in much of a coaching mood last time he is willing to help. He couldn’t get bupkiss on the twins since Scott can’t even remember their names, but he did pull off a miracle. Despite their being a million Gideons in New York.. Wallace found THE Gideon. Granted all he got was his full name, Gideon Gordon Graves, and a few burry photos, one with Ramona confirming this is our douche, but given he had only a first name and an ex to work with this is some damn fine work. Wallace asks scott about his future with Ramona but he just.. has no earthly idea because of course he dosen’t. He hasn’t REALLY thought about what comes after beating the exes because he never thinks anything through. Interesting stuff The next day Scott meets up with Kim at No Account Video and we get our first, and I mean literally first, indiciation things are falling apart with her and Hollie. Scott wants to say hi, Kim refuses him and gives a smart ass comment when he asks if them being roomates isn’t working out. He wasn’t even being a dick it’s just clear SOMETHING bad’s going on she won’t talk about because she puts up walls around hrself on a GOOD day and this clearly isn’t one.

It gets worse when they stop by Stephen’s place only to find Neil whose both taken up a combination of smoking and moping in a dark room. Never a good sign. Nor is Stephen apparenlty being at band practice.. meaning either he lied to Neil about where he went.. or he already started the band we’ll see him with next volume and is already stabbing his friends in the back. There wasn’t much to like about the guy to BEGIN with, but his behavior just gets worse with every volume and it’s reached it’s apex here. The speech was shitty enough, I spent several paragraphs explaning why, but the rest of his behavior isn’t much better. He abandoned two people who were, for god knows what reason loyal to him and abandoned the band because of some bearded asshole probably encouraging him to.

We also get some telling behavior on Kim’s part. Whlie she’s usually morose around Scott in the face of this both just hang out, it’s plesant. She even smiles when she asks if it’s going to be a regular occurance when he stays with her that night. Granted she brings back her frown soon after, but as has been clear her feelings for him never really went away entirely, and this is the closest the two have been in volumes, just enjoying each others company. It’s also telling that Scott trusts kim with a favor.

We see the favor the next page: Kim hangs out with Ramona.. and Scott marchs in completely on purpose soon after. Granted Kim probably didn’t know THIS was part of the plan, and it’s mildly stupid.. but it DOES show progress for Scott. Keep in mind his usual tactic is “avoid the fuck out of it and hope it goes away’ So ACTUALLY wanting to talk about things and find her again, and not doing it in a creepy way but simply drawing her out with a friend, shows SOME maturlity. It’s still not the most mature.. but with Ramona clearly not wanting him at their place, her work not having a set location as she just picks stuff up and drops it off (And even if she’s picking up packages at the post office we don’t know which one or if there’s multiple and even if we did scott sure as hel l does not), he was out of options. It also WORKS, with Ramona breaking her mopeynesss to laugh and Kim stunned it didn’t just piss her off further.

So we find out what happened with Hollie when Scott brings up jason. She points out they were dating but... welllllllll

Yeah... as you could probably tell I do not like this plot point at all. For one thing we never really got to KNOW Jason, and with him and Hollie getting a little too cozy at the end of the last volume...

It’s clear his ONLY roll in the story was to be there so Hollie could betray Kim in some way. And look I get a LOT in this series happens while we’re not looking, ti’s part of it’s charm. Things not pausing for the side cast is a trope I enjoy: it allows some things to progress faster and allows for some intresting stories when the main cast catches up. Steven Unvierse and Ducktales both used this well as does Scott Pilgrim but all three weren’t immune to someitnes goofing up and taking it too far.

This whole situation is that: Hollie is a character I got attached to: She had a great report with kim, they were really close and she offered her a place to stay when it was clear she was miserable with the four horseman of the bitchpocalypse she lived with. So while having her suddenly heel turn is realistic... it just feels thorughly unsatisfying. We do not see Hollie again after she’s sudeenly derailed, so we never get to see what she’s apparenlty REALLY like or get any explination why this happened. Suddenly Kim’s best friend is a douchebag even though it makes no sense for her character. Just because in real life people can turn out to be really shitty on a dime dosen’t mean it’s a neat thing to READ in a story and it feels like a waste of what was one of the series best side characters. And granted i’ve been through FAR worse treatment of side characters, trust me but this one still blows to this day and if there is a netflix adaptation this either needs to not happen or have actual depth. Seriously Netflix your adapting everything else, get on the bus already.

Scott is GENUINELY apologetic, we’ve rarely seen him this nice but he genuinely feels bad for her.. and unlike Stephen’s thing it’s okay to feel shitty someone got cheated on even if you were a cheater in the past. As I said Stephen wasn’t wrong about how Scott treeted knives.. he just also was trying to take moral high ground which Knives proved he absolutely did not have in seconds.

This triggers Ramona’s glow, the squggly line thing that shows up over her head ocasoinally.. and while Ramona grills Scott... Kim just finally asks what the hells up with her head. Scott’s reaction is “OH good you guys see it too”. Kim does try to show it to ramona but it’s gone by then and she drops it for now and outside encourages her to come to Julie’s latest shitty party.. I mean their miserable but at least it gives thems omething to do

So we get another instalment of “Scott rambles about the X-Men” or New Mutants in this case as we’re talking about Magik, Aka Illyana Rasputin

So for the long version: The X-Men were staying at a creepy temple that Magneto had been working out of beause the mansion was being repaired. Colossus, everyone’s favorite Russian and Deadpool co-star, had his kid sister Illyana with him as Arcade, a ginger maniac assasian whose gimmick is creating elaborate murder theme parks, kidnapped her in a plot to get the x-men to fight Dr. Doom for him. Given this was during the Cold War they coudln’t exactly take her back, so she stayed with the X-Men and her beloved big brother.

So naturlaly the spooky temple decorated in Cthulu’s had a portal to hell in it and an evil and genirc looking fucker named Belasco kidnapped her to a hell dimension known as Limbo> the X-Men went after her as you’d expect and things got WEIRD as due to some complicated and weird time dialition stuff I sitll don’t quite understand there ended up being two copies of the x-men: ours who came in right after, and a second batch who stayed there for about 7-8 years and got warped by Bellsaco’s magic as he killed or changed most of them. As a result Storm became a sorcerer to fight back, Kitty Pryde became some sort of cat creature and Kurt became a creepy evil version of himself. Illyana stayed htere, learned magics from both storm and asshole, learned to fight from cat kitty, and eventually escaped after a lot of horrible bullshit, hardnered and with her soul scarred from it, now a teenager. She joined the New Mutants, the training class of x-men in the comics, soon after. She’s a member agian in present day, one of the great captains of Krakoa, and one of the two co-leaders of Krakoa’s younger mutants, i.e. 20 something to teens and kids.

This is the best of the two scenes as the narrative , or at least Scott’s versions parallels Ramona’s own; Getting taken in by an evil man and feeling tainted by that.

So at the party Ramona runs into Neil whose a dick about it and with some girl. She WAS going to be fleshed out more in the original draft but Brian ended up scrapping it for time, but does regret it. It’s here we get Neil’s face punchingly dickish comment that’s also a massive hint as to Stephen’s sexuality.

Yeah even if Stephen’s been an UTTERLY shitty friend to him.. this was uncalled for even for the late 2000′s. What a prick. I do like the arc of Neil slowly falling apart though getting more and more bitter as his old friends abandoned him casually, especailly Stephen. While his comment was still HORRIBLY unwarranted even with Stephen being a dipshit.

Speaking of assholes we get our last major with Julie who berates Scott for grabbing some booze and brings in the twist. I’m.. i’m not even bothering to give her an insluting and weird nickname. She’s still a HORRIBLE piece of shit, as she brought Scott’s enemies there to try and beat him to death for her own amusment and berated him for getting booze at a party she CLEARLY expected him to come to, but she’s ALMOST gone. Seriously after this she’s GONE for the volume and barely in the rest of the series. So i’d rather celebrate FINALLY having earned my freedom over worrying about her any more than i have to. Cue the music!

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So with that Kyle.. or is it Ken.

But the blonde one needles ramona, giving her her faviorite booze and telling her “this is all just temproary”

So Ramona gets all glowy.. and Kim gets her phone out....

The Universe Fights Back So in a random bedroom Ramona gives up the ghost: SHe DOES know what that is she just can’t tell Kim. Kim accepts it and they share some drinks. Scott, after beheading the douche bros latest science project, joins them and we get a lovely scene of the three drinking and bonding and geneuinely just having a good time. Though Kim DOES mention that she wants to go back to school.. This will naturally be very important.

What’s more important is this scene is ENITRELY while I poly ship these three dum dums. I mean while part of thier hapiness here is their blasted out of hteir heads, it’s also just Kim’s wall sbeing down. She tells the two she loves them, and I think MEANS IT. Not to mention this...

Okay maybe it’s just the two of them but they also love Scott. And again I get htier VERY obviously drunk.. but given Kim and Ramona are clearly actively supressing any bi parts of themselves most of hte time this is telling. The fact Ramona asks kim to sleep in THIER bed, likely with them, is ALSO very telling and Kim only dosen’t because their using sub space. No really that’s the only reason this volume didn’t end VERY diffrently with the three of htem having a three way before the argument coming up.. and possibly fixing said argument by having kim to mediate. I mean I get Scott’s not a big part of this so if you don’t want to ship him with them and just leave them alone that’s fine, ut I like the idea of them as a throuple: they ballance each other out.. and frakly with Scott’s irresponsblity and Ramona’s emotoinal issues they need someone to call them b oth out in the relationship, while these two are two of the only three people in the work i’ve seen Kim take her walls down for. Not even Jason got that, but Jason was also a carboard cutout.

Things take a turn from Kim.. from an almost threesome where she CLEARLY would be getting most of the attention... to two assholes kidnapping her. Now while I don’t like the twins that much their plan for the final act IS actually clever: their the first ones to think to actually use the people Scott cares about.. or anything resembling strategy really. Matt just charged int here, Lucas coudln’t give less of a fuck, Todd just used brute strength like a teletkentic juggernaught, and Roxy DID use some but it was less to actually fight scott and more to get into ramona’s pants again. The twins see Kim clearly still loves Scott, and that while he acts aloff to her sometimes she really is one of his best friends. No really, think about it. Wallace is his BEST friend.. but Kim sticks by him even when he’s shitty, calls him out when needed, and despite her grumpiness is the one who has the most faith in him out of ANYONE. It’s a large point of the volume: she dosen’t bother watching the fights.. because she belivies he’ll win simply because he’s Scott. That’s love right there. The kind of love that gets you kidnapped as part of an elaborate scheme but love nonetheless.

So we then get the scene that’s been coming for five volumes... after having sex, Ramona confronts Scott. While Scott admits he didn’t cheat on her with knvies, the other way around, that’s not better. He admits he’s been trying to forget about it.. and she calls him a bad person. And that. .hits him hard. While he DESERVES scorn for what he did... as he puts it next he’s been trying to change for her. To BE better. And all she sees, and outright confirms is another evil ex in waiting with Scott DESPERATE to prove her wrong and wrongly thinking beating the next three exes will fix this. It’s a VERY hard sceen to watch as while Scott does deserve this.. it’s also hard not to feel bad for him too. It really sums up the character: He is a dick.. but he’s TRYING to be better. He WANTS to be, he just dosen’t know how. And MAN can I relate to that. It dosen’t help that Ramona is clearly projecting her own insecurties about this lasting, about actually being happy and about this really being her life onto him, using this as an easy out after having a month of doubt. Yes Scott did something unbelivibely shitty.. but both are trying to take the easy way out of it instead of genuinely discussing why it’s shitty, what he did was wrong and geniuinely unpacking if this is the end. Ramona clearly wants to bail, and Scott clearly just wants to punch a few guys to make it better. Neither thing will work. They need to work thorugh their issues to work... but neither is capable of that right now. They both want to run from the problem.

This volume is in part about Ramona herself.. and showcasing her OWN flaws.. and like Scott her biggest is that she runs. She wants to escape her past too and both assumed the other would be an easy fix, that by having a good partner they’d be better.. when really their both mildly shitty people who need to make peace with their past and repair the bridges they’ve burnt and flip off the ones not worht reparing instead of running from it all the time. But sadly before both can.. their just gonna run again. Because sometimes fixing yourself is just not that easy.

So the next morning Scott’s heart stops fo ra second when Ramona is seemingly gone.. only for her to instead be in teh shower. But Scott gets a text telling him the twins have Kim and TRIES to tell Ramona.. but she’s in the shower. As a result she’s worried he just ran off... and makes a decision , her hair cut back down after growing it out this volume, a sign of her hapiness.. now gone.

The Glow Part 2 So at an abandoned wherehouse the fight is on. The twins have the advantage in part because Scott is hung over.. something they take offense to.. even though they were THERE last night. He was at a party. They don’t know he teatotles. What state did they THINK he’d be in this morning?

We also find out their origin: as Scott correctly guessed at the end of last volume, Ramona dated them both at the same time and pit them against each other. They found out and vowed to always fight as one.. which means Scott is not only fighting two equally powerful opponents at once, but two who work as a perfct team and double hurricane kick him. They also mentally break him down, pointing out her previous job and how she’s a runner and she’s here to run from her past working for Gideon.

They aren’t but I already went into that so let’s get onto more pressing issues: Scott is not only hung over but now doubting himself and his dumbass plan to beat gideon and magically fix things, while Kim is naturally not happy about being stuck in a cage all night. And while at first she’s genuinely just grumpy as always as it becomes clear Scott has lost hope and the twins are going to win this one her expression is heartbreaking...

After EVERYTHING she still loves him and can’t bear to see him in so much pain... and can’t loose him.. so she gets desperate and claims Ramona texted him to give him hope.

This is one of Kim’s definting moments, the other coming next month. When faced with the person she loves possibly dying.. she lies to him.. so he can surivive. So he can have hope and make it through this.. despite how much it’s CLEARLY KILLING HER to not only tell him someone else loves him but to clealry lie that person loves him, knowing it’ll hurt him more.. but knowing if she DOSEN’T he’ll die. It’s one of the most painful, heartbreaking and beautiful moments in the entire series. It’s why I said earlier while I don’t like the brothers their climactic fight his excellent.. because it is. Their verbal breaking down of Scott is hearbreaking and Kim’s sacrifice equally so.

And before stomping them into coins SCott shows further growth.. by showing he CAN give off a good one liner now...

So Scott beats them and gets Kim out of the cage, worried about her.. but despite having a chance, Kim lets him get on his way to ramona and morsoely wlaks off... while ominously the sign points out this will soon be the Chaos Theater. There’s still one left to go.

But.. it’s sadly not enough. While Scott gives her a heartfelt speech... even if he quotes the song as long as you love me... he dosen’t care who she is.. but Ramona does.. calling herself a bad person.. as she vanishes.... and I cry my eyes out again. God two really heartbreaking scenes in a row sweet jesus this volume will be the death of me.. and not just because i’ts taken so damn long to write this review. And on top of tha the looses the cat and ends up locked out.

World of Ruin:

So yeah if you thought those bits weren’t easy.. it only gets roughter as we see Scott in the aftermath of the breakup. His dream world is now desolate and he’s alone. Now to his creidt as much shit as i’ve given him Stephen didn’t ENTIRELY abandon Scott: he put him up fo rth enight (though he kicks him out after work) and offers to take him to after work drinks. We also see a nice side of Scott’s intimdating boss as she offers her symaptheties at him crying... while he says it’s the onions... he’s transparenlty lying.

Next up is Kim. Though she dosen’t have a couch because Hollie sold it.. which as dickish as she suddenly is it IS her couch as Kim points out.. so yeah Kim and Scott end up sleeping awkardly in the same bed facing away from each other.. and to add another emotional guttpunch at the worst possible time: She’s going back home.

Stacey is even lesss helpful as SCott continues to ask about cats and is unsypantethic about her leaving despite you know, him REALLY not being at the shit talking her stage yet bud. At least we do get to see Stacey in this one I genuinely forgot she was in it.

So at Wallace’s he’s no help either pointing out she might be with someone else because he’s wallace and we meet a guy with Glases.. and in his bad state Scott assumes i’ts gideon. it’s not though. WE finally meet Mobile!

He’s exactly what wallace needs.. a fellow sarcastic asshole.

So next up is Kim’s goodbye.. which once again is really emotinal..a nd not just because my faviorite character is leaving and again, younger me didn’t know this wasn’t forever.. or that she’d be back for a rather huge role next time. But still it’s a damn good scene that shows how far Scott’s come...

While the first part is standard... the second is Scott realizing that she still had feelings for him, clearly given her actions during the fight, and he’d been a right dick this whole time never dealing with it or apolgoizing for his past. Granted he still has a way to go to REALLY apologize for it... but he’s trying and means it. And with her possibly never seeing again.. she needed that. Also her coat is damn cool. I’d say I want one like that btu i’d really prefer one like Scotts complete with x-men patch. Pax Krakoa bitches.

We get a really nice scene after where we meet Scott’s parents! Their also really kind helping him get a new place and move on... and runs into another glasses guy. But this time it’s Laurence! Who he drop kicks.. and then gives a broken bass back to. Eh... i’ve seen worse relationship with siblings honestly. He didn’t murder scott’s friend or plunge a whole galaxy into war or try and murder his daughter. Other Scott’s weren’t so lucky.

So after that awkardness SCott finds the note to gideon which is a break up letter... she never sent. However there’s something more pressing as he gets a call... and you can probably guess given his luck lately who that’s from.

Eh it’s not that murderoius creep but another one.

The end.. is in a few weeks.

Final Thoughts:

As I said I hated Vs the Universe on first read but re-reading it with hindsight and maturity.. it’s damn good. It’s depressing as hell.. but the things it does need to happen to push scott into a bad enough place for the next volume to work, and are natural: Ramona and Kim leaving, The band breaking up, Scott kicking his brother in the face.. all natural things. It hurts, this was a HARD one to write and I only feel the next one will be harder because it’s way longer with less slice of lifey stuff to skim through in my recapping.

But it’s a damn good one, with fantastic art, really gripping scenes, x-men refrenes and a spotlight shone on my girl kim. Even it’s weak spots dont’ hurt it: the twins are only weak by comparison, and still work well enough for the story, pushing ramona into the bad mental place she needs to be for the story to work. Hollie’s thing DID Need to be written way fucking better... but it does push kim into leaving which is CRITICAL for next time. So they aren’t GREAT elements, but they work. The only real other problem I have is knives just.. vanishes after her scene outside of one bit with Stephen, but that I can understand as the book is pretty tightly packed and she gets a fitting sendoff next time anyway. All in all another amazing entry and the perfect warm up for one of the best endings in comics history

Next Time: I said it and I meant it: one of the best endings in comics history as Scott hits on some exes, fights himself and betters himself as he prepares for his finest hour! Will Ramona Come back? Will Kim? Will Julie?... to answer your questions yes yes, and god dammit. Thank you all for reading, see you at the next rainbow.

#scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim vs the world #scott pilgrim vs the unvierse #kim pine #ramona flowers #julie powers #julie power #steven stills #stephen stills #joseph #wallace wells #kyle kyatanagi #ken kyatanagi #gideon gordon graves #gideon graves #stacey pilgrim #mobile #laurence pilgrim #knives chau

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