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just1cefor4ll · 1 month ago

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— You’re the kind of person they write rock songs about

modern!au Viktor x fem!reader warning. swearing, not proof read, might be OOC

part six || part seven || part eight

A/N. okay ngl this chapter is so shitty but i have serious writers block so i guess this will have to do :P

‘Your beauty is so vain

It drives me, yes, it drives me

absolutely insane.’

You stared at the ceiling, thinking about none other then Viktor. Who else would you be thinking about anyway? He’s been all over your mind for the past month so it’s no surprise he’s still lingering there even in this moment.

You were hanging out at Ekko’s dorm, asking for advice though he wasn’t of much help.

“Oh my fucking god Ekko you’re literally not helping at all.” You groan, putting a hand on your forehead. You sit up, sitting cross legged with Ekko barely paying attention to your paranoid self anymore. “How did you make the first move on Powder?” You ask desperately trying to get any useful advice out of him.

“Alright, listen," Ekko sighed, finally setting his phone down to give you his full attention. "First of all, you’re overthinking this way too much. Second—why are you even stressing? It’s Viktor."

You groaned, flopping back onto his bed dramatically. "That is exactly the problem, Ekko. It’s Viktor. He’s, like.. I don’t know.. him?And I don’t wanna screw this up."

Ekko rolled his eyes. "You’re acting like he’s some impossible riddle to solve."

"He kinda is!" You sat up again, running a hand through your hair. "He’s smart as hell, he overanalyzes everything, and he probably thinks I’m just being friendly whenever I try to flirt."

Ekko snorted. "You are just friendly. You’re terrible at flirting."

"Wow, thanks."

"Just saying," he shrugged. "If you actually wanna make a move, you gotta make it clear. No weird mixed signals. When I made the first move on Powder, I didn’t hesitate. I knew what I wanted, and I went for it."

You raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? And what did you do, Romeo?"

Ekko grinned, leaning back against the wall. "I told her straight-up that I liked her and then kissed her before she could overthink it."

Your eyes widened. "You what?"

"Yeah. No games, no confusion. Just straight to the point."

You stared at him like he had just grown a second head. "That’s insane. I can’t do that."

Ekko sighed dramatically. "Well then, I dunno what to tell you Y/N. If you wanna make a move, you either do it or you don’t. Simple as that."

You chewed on your lip, processing his words. "Okay. Maybe not that bold, but.. I get what you’re saying." “Good." Ekko picked his phone back up. "Now, if you’re done panicking, I’d like to get back to my very important business."

You peeked at his screen—he was watching cat videos.

With a sigh, you stood up. "Fine, fine. I’ll figure it out. But if this goes badly, I’m blaming you." "Yeah, yeah," he waved you off. "Just don’t overthink it. You got this."

You weren’t sure if you believed that yet, but still, you left his dorm with a little more determination than before.

You entered your dorm, opening your phone to text Viktor but it looks like he had thought a bit farther ahead then you had, because right there on your screen was a notification from none other then Viktor.

——————————————————————————

[vik.tor222] Are you free tonight?

[truly.y/n] oh? since when do u make plans?

[vik.tor222] Since I decided to make your night more interesting.

[truly.y/n] bold assumption that you being here is interesting

[vik.tor222] Admit it, you’d be devastated if I didn’t show up.

[truly.y/n] you’re delusional

[vik.tor222] Yet here you are, still replying instantly.

You frowned at your screen. He was getting cocky.

[truly.y/n] hm, what’s the occasion anyway? you bored or just wanna hang out?

[vik.tor222] or maybe i just want to see my favorite rockstar?

You huffed, but your stomach did a little flip.

[truly.y.n] whatever. maybe I don’t want to see you tonight

[vik.tor222] Lying doesn’t suit you, rockstar.

You bit your lip, ignoring the way your face warmed.

[truly.y/n] fine, pow is leaving around 8pm, i was just about to play my guitar so if you’re lucky you might get a free live performance >;D

[vik.tor222] Can’t wait.

——————————————————————————

You rolled your eyes, smiling like an idiot as you set your phone down.

When Viktor arrived, you were already playing your guitar, fingers idly plucking at the strings as you sat cross legged on your bed.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching you with that small, amused smirk of his. "You were serious about the live performance." "Always," you grinned, patting the space beside you. "Come in, take a seat. I promise not to charge you."

Viktor chuckled as he made his way over, sitting beside you on the bed. His cane rested against the nightstand as he settled in, tilting his head slightly as he listened to you play.

"You’re really good," he murmured after a moment.

You shot him a teasing look. "I have a band, Vik. Would be awkward if I sucked." Viktor huffed a laugh. "True. But still—you are impressive." Your heart did that stupid fluttery thing again. "..Thanks."

A comfortable silence followed as you continued to strum softly, just playing whatever came to mind. After a while, you set the guitar down and leaned back on your hands, glancing over at him

“So.. anything new in the lab?” You asked, keeping your voice light. Viktor hummed in thought. "Not really. Other then Jayce almost setting the lab on fire again." He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. You stiffle a laugh, gasping dramatically; “No way!” You say in mock surprise. “Yes.” Viktor shook his head. “I keep telling him, just because something looks stable does not mean it is stable.”

“Classic Jayce.”

“Unfortunately.”

"Why engineering and physics?" you ask suddenly, catching Viktor off guard.

"Hm?" he replies, raising an eyebrow.

You laugh awkwardly, fiddling with your guitar. "I mean, why those majors? Is there a cool backstory, or is it just something you're good at?"

Viktor thinks for a moment before answering. "I've always been fascinated by how things work—like putting together a puzzle. The more I learned, the more I wanted to create things that could change how people live."

You nod. "That makes sense.”

He tilts his head. "What about you? Art, right?"

"Yeah, for me, it's the opposite," you say, smiling. "Art is about creating things that don't necessarily make sense but still feel right."

Viktor considers this, then shrugs. "That sounds freeing." You laugh. "It is, but it’s also a challenge to make it come together. Just like your work, I guess." He nods slowly, a faint smile on his lips. "I get that."

You both fell into easy conversation after that, talking about random things—your band, his research, upcoming gigs, the ridiculous amount of people who had started messaging you online asking for new music.

Eventually, though, you both got tired of talking and decided to put on a movie.

Halfway through, you started to get really comfortable, shifting closer to Viktor. Without thinking too much about it, you leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder. Viktor didn’t react at first—just a small, sharp inhale before he relaxed under you. Encouraged, you moved a little closer.

Then, in a move that surprised you, Viktor gently pulled you towards him, adjusting you so that you were practically lying against his chest.

Your heart stopped.

You hesitated for a moment before settling against him completely, your cheek resting over his heartbeat. His arm stayed around you, fingers lightly tracing up and down your back.

"You good?" you murmured, peeking up at him.

Viktor exhaled, a small smile playing on his lips. "Hm? Yeah.. m’fine.”

Neither of you moved after that. The movie continued playing in the background, but it barely mattered. The warmth of Viktor’s body, the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest—it was all so.. peaceful.

At some point, your eyes grew heavy, and before you knew it, sleep was tugging you under.

Viktor didn’t say anything when you finally drifted off, but he did let his fingers brush lightly over your arm, holding you just a little closer.

It wasn’t a confession. Not yet.

But it was something. And for now, that was more than enough.

Viktor woke up slowly, warmth pressing into his side, a weight draped over him.

It took a moment for the fog of sleep to clear, for him to register the steady rise and fall of your breathing, your head still tucked against his shoulder, arm loosely curled around him.

His chest tightened.

Carefully, he turned his head, just enough to see your face—eyes shut, lips slightly parted, hair falling messily against his shirt. Peaceful. Unaware of the way you had completely undone him.

His fingers twitched at his side.

He should move. He should.

But for a few more moments, he let himself stay.

How had he let this happen?

How had you managed to slip so effortlessly into his life, into his mind, until the thought of not having you there seemed impossible?

He swallowed.

He needed to tell you.

The thought alone made his pulse quicken, but—God, he couldn’t keep pretending. Not when you were right there, curled against him, like you belonged there.

The door swung open.

Viktor tensed, head snapping toward the entrance just in time to see Powder step inside.

She stopped short.

Eyebrows shot up.

Then, a slow, shit-eating grin.

“Well, well, well.”

Viktor exhaled sharply, already bracing himself.

“This is new,” Powder mused, crossing her arms. “Didn’t take you for a cuddler, lover boy.” Viktor frowned, carefully shifting Y/N’s arm off of him before sitting up. “It was not planned.” Powder’s grin only widened. “Sure it wasn’t.” He shot her a look before grabbing his cane and standing. Powder tilted her head. “So. You gonna tell her?” Viktor’s grip tightened slightly. “..I intend to.” Powder hummed, rocking back on her heels. “Good. ‘Cause I really don’t wanna watch you two keep dancing around each other.” Viktor shook his head, amused despite himself. “Yes, I am aware.”

Powder smirked, stepping aside as he made his way to the door. “Lover boy,” she called after him, just loud enough to make sure he heard it.

He didn’t give her the satisfaction of reacting.

He made his way towards his dorm, his mind full— full of you. This wasn’t new. He had spent too much time thinking about you, about what he felt, about what it meant. But now, after tonight, it wasn’t just in his head. It was real.

His fingers brushed over his phone, hesitating.

It was absurd, really, how fast it had all happened. How easily you had slipped into his life, uninvited, without him even realizing what was happening.

The first time he had ever seen you was at The Last Drop. He can’t imagine how differently his life could’ve went if he hadn’t agreed to Jayce’s constant begging and pestering about him going out and leaving studying behind for just a day.

He didn’t like the idea of being there, not for a bit at least— but then you came up onto that stage and he forgot how to think.

You had been something else entirely. The warm lights caught the curve of your smile perfectly— the easy confidence in the way you moved, the way you just carried yourself was so alluring, he couldn’t resist succumbing to your charm.

He hadn’t been the only one captivated.

That night, they had all been introduced to you. He knew of your existence before then, but that night he got to know you better— the musician, the artist, the lightning storm in human form.

He couldn’t wait to hang out with you again— not sure if that would even happen, but then Vi burst into the room with a text from her sister, that they’d be going to a café that week and that his group was invited. And there you had told him—offhand, casual—how it was your dream venue. How you had always wanted to play there.

And that gave him an idea.

Why had he even done it in the first place? The call? Setting up the entire gig? He wasn’t sure, but something deep inside him told him to do it—and so he did. In his mind, you deserved it. And when he saw the excitement in your eyes? His heart had felt like fireworks bursting on the Fourth of July.

And then—

The cheek kiss.

So quick, so effortless, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

That was when he knew. That was when he realized he was screwed.

And now— Now, he had to do something about it.

The whole damn friend group had been pestering him for weeks. Jayce, Ekko, Isha, Powder—all of them, telling him to stop being an idiot, to tell you.

Viktor exhaled, gripping his phone.

It was late.

Too late for this.

But his hands moved before he could stop himself.

——————————————————————————

[vik.tor222] I like you Y/N

[vik.tor222] like a lot

[vik.tor222] god you’re literally all i can think about you make me insane

[vik.tor222] i love you, rockstar.

——————————————————————————

He set his phone down as soon as he typed the last message, his mind racing with all the possible outcomes. What if you rejected him? What if you laughed in his face, or worse, ignored him completely? What if—

His phone buzzed.

And his mind went blank.

taglist: @erica2024 @lolixsstuff @skullmvncher @startingtoloveyou @astarionapologist @th3stup1dcat @fiveperrcent @fadedpinkpen @noxturnalmoth

#⚖️just1cefor4ll #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #arcane viktor #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x y/n #viktor fanfic #viktor nation #viktor arcane #viktor x you #viktor lol #viktor league of legends #arcane fanfic #arcane fanfiction #arcane x reader #arcane

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slytherinshua · 8 months ago

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EROS & PSYCHE

genre. fluff. greek god au. warnings. although it is an eros and psyche au i don't follow the actual story of psyche and eros. kissing. not proofread. pairing. eros!youngjae x psyche!fem!reader. wc. 593. request. requested by anon for #32: "one more kiss". a/n. idk why i made this a greek mythology au i just like aus okay SO I HOPE IT SLAYS. also for those of you who don't know, eros is the greek equivalent of cupid and psyche has butterfly wings sdjksd anyway.

When you heard the snap of a twig beneath your feet, you knew you were screwed. You silently cursed in your head, whipping your head up to see if he had heard the noise. Of course, he had.

He had his bow drawn straight at you, the gleaming golden arrow that he regularly drew replaced with a blunt lead one, serving the opposite purpose. Instead of making people fall in love, it would erase any desire for love and instil fear instead. The boy used it mostly to keep people from pestering him.

When he saw that it was you, though, his face brightened and he loosened his grip on the bow. Jumping down from the hill he had climbed, he jogged over to you, a boyish smile on his face.

“You need to stop sneaking away from home, Eros. Your mother keeps sending me to find you.” You hit him lightly on the shoulder, teasing him by calling him by his god name.

“Everyone tries to bribe me to make their love come true at home. I feel like I’m being used.” Youngjae shuddered, securing his bow on his hip and freeing his hands of all sharp objects. He practically bounded into your arms once he was free to do so, nearly knocking you off balance.

“I missed you, Psyche.” His words were earnest. A few days of not seeing you felt far too long for the boy more in love than even his arrows could replicate. He grinned as he pulled back, his nose scrunching slightly. His eyes wandered over your face, admiring your unmatched beauty. Your hair blew slightly in the breeze, and your butterfly wings swayed gently.

“I saved 4 marriages and got 15 new couples together in 3 days. Pretty impressive, right?” He fished for compliments, his eyes searching your face eagerly.

“Your aim has definitely gotten better.” You smiled.

The boy scoffed, “My aim was always good. What do you mean?” You laughed, a sound that Youngjae would probably never get tired of.

“Weren’t you the same one who missed me by half a mile with an arrow?” You teased, leaning a little closer to him, eyelashes fluttering. His cheeks blossomed with pink tones from the close contact, but he was still able to think of a suitable response even in his nervous state.

“You’re in love with me now regardless. I don’t think my arrows would’ve done much when you’re already obsessed.” His words wrung true, as even in the moment you couldn’t take your eyes off his face. He was the most stunning boy you had ever seen, face suitable for that of the son of the Aphrodite. Your gaze faltered to his lips, your stare too obvious for him to miss. He smirked slightly, the satisfaction of knowing you were entirely charmed by him greater than any remarkable feat he pulled off with his arrows.

He pulled you into an ardent kiss, holding you with a gentle but firm hand on your waist. There was something more natural about his kisses than anything else. His entire purpose was to love— it was intuitive to his nature. Each kiss, each glance, each smile, had you falling ever deeper into the drunken feeling of adoration for him. And the kiss had the same effect.

He pulled apart only to hold you comfortably in his arms again, hearts racing in sync. You caught your breath, hands finding his, lacing together with his warm fingers.

He lifted your chin up with his other hand, “One more kiss, hm?”

↳ tws taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @talkingsaxy,, @talking-saxy,,

@50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @imyuna-06,, @kristianities,, @stannwjnss

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marlsswrites · 8 months ago

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A footballer and a figure skater

Ice skating AU, part 4!!

August 4th - words: 733

First part Previous part

James’ mum usually laughed at his new found habit, you see, ever since he found Regulus in the bookstore, he’d made a deal to always meet his mother at the ice rink. And he just so happened to catch Regulus skating, he would deny that that was his intention, but that was a lie. He longed to see the roaring, icy, flame that was Regulus.

He wanted to talk to the boy, he really did, but he always seemed to disappear right out of James’ lustful eyesight as soon as he managed to get close enough to see those dark grey eyes. Those same eyes that held up to crashing waves and stormy clouds right inside them, flowing and piercing into James like a bloody, sharpened, shining dagger to his heart.

Until one very long day, he debated giving up. He walked into the building after football practice, the field was only a two minute walk away yet he was still sweating from his previous game. Lifting his shirt up to his face, he wiped the clearly forming beads of sweat from his forehead and huffed as he dropped the shirt back down to cover his toned, tan chest.

He would make an excuse every single time he came here, telling him mum that he’d take her for a meal (he’s going to go broke if this carries on) or that he was simply just bored out of his mind.

But his only true excuse was seeing that thin waist and cheekbones sharp and straight as freshly cut stone.

That day he was running slightly late, he was exhausted and if he hadn’t promised his mum he’d meet her there before she finished, he probably would’ve just gone home.

But oh he is so glad he didn’t.

“Mum?” He called round the corner when he noticed the footsteps he heard were, in fact, not his mother’s.

As he turned the corner he crashed face first into a smaller figure with a grunt. The other person stumbled backwards, steadying themselves on their feet quickly. They looked at James with an utterly disgusted expression before it morphed into something far more confused.

“Are you fucking stalking me or something?” He spat.

As James looked at his face, that was only when he realised it was the one person he’d been looking for.

Some might say it’s fate, others might say that it’s James’ severe stubbornness, because when he wants something - god he can be convincing.

At least he hopes so.

“No- no!” He gasped out. “My mum works here, I was meeting her here.” The confused expression shifted to one of recognition, a crease forming between his eyebrows on the pale skin of Regulus’ face. “I didn’t even know she coached you.” James lied, hoping the tremor of his voice didn’t give his nerves away.

“Oh.” James watched as the other boy caught his bottom lip between his teeth, James only now noticing the glint of a silver ball on his tongue.

God.

“You’re Effie’s son.” He deadpanned.

“The one and only!” James grinned.

The other boy gave a snort, it was short and probably sarcastic, yet it was still there. James always wanted to make him laugh, he’s never really seen the man smile, but he’s sure one would look absolutely beautiful on his already perfected face.

“Now don’t flatter yourself.” He scoffed.

James only grinned, looking the man before him up and down rather slowly, no shame present at all. He was still dressed in all black, the outfit - like he said - was skintight and certainly not helping James while he tried to form actual words and not make himself look like an idiot.

“You’re staring.” Regulus pointed out, a sly smirk present on his lips.

“Hm?” James stared into those grey irises and gave a faux innocent shrug, messing his hair around on his head with a small shake before looking back up to only see a raised eyebrow. “My friend liked the book.”

“Nice topic change.”

James laughed. “I take what I can get.”

“I’m glad.” He paused. “About the book.” The raven haired boy gave a shake of his head, his curls moving softly around his face as he did so. “I’ve got to go, bye James.” He offered a nod, and then he was gone. Only leaving James to stare after him with a strange ache in his chest.

Next part

#marauders #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #james x regulus #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #regulus x james #starchaser #writers on tumblr #marlsswrites ice skating au #marauders fanfic rec #marauders fandom #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #the marauders era #marauders era #the marauders

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pocketramblr · 1 year ago

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AU where Hisashi calls Izuku regularly while he works overseas and one day Hisashi tells Izuku about his new boyfriend who is very sweet to him and unfortunately got into a bad accident many years ago that left him disabled so Hisashi helps care for him.Izuku later finds out this boyfriend is AFO.

why would you leave inko for afo. 'hold on yeah i think i'll leave this priceless bahia emerald and skip town and then i found a broken piece of chalk instead.' my guy. you deserve all might stealing your son.

1- ok so. Hisashi is an accountant who moves to new york to make more money. He and inko officially divorce, which means Izuku takes the Midoriya name and Inko has sole custody, but while Hisashi does not have to pay child support or alimony, he does opt to send them some support and tries to stay in contact because i guess his taste in men was so bad that he and inko just work better as friends. good for them ig.

2- actually Hisashi is just straight up color-blind: he can't see any red flags. Its not just his personal tastes. this man has worked for four separate blatant money laundering schemes since he went abroad. he has no clue. this is how he ends up coming into contact with AfO, but AfO's job offering is too indirect and vague, and Hisashi is like 'are you... flirting with me?' instead, but AfO can work with that. And while Hisashi certainly isn't a genius with people or warning signs, i will give him (and inko) this: he's a great lay.

3- He's also a very caring boyfriend, which was part of the problem with inko, they ended up really inciting each other's anxieties, but AfO likes being pampered so he decides to keep Hisashi around even if he isn't a employee. even better really, that he doesn't have to pay, bribe, quirkify, dequirkify, or threaten him. Hisashi, as a bit of a doting boyfriend, also has a lot to say about the man to others, so Izuku ends up hearing a lot of gushing over the phone as he's training with weights and is a bit too out of breath to change the topic. plus, he doesn't want to bring up going to UA until its a sure thing, his dad will definitely freak out about it not being safe. finally he tells his dad he got in, and hisashi is like 'oh yeah, cuz they changed the rules, which track?' and izuku goes 'oh uh hero track and alsoihaveaquirknowitscalledsuperpower oh look at that moms calling me for dinner sorry bye.'

4. Dazed, Hisashi gushes about his son to his boyfriend later, dropping that izuku's going to become a hero at ua, what a surprise- but, well, he supposes his son has always loved to watch heroes...

AfO is like 'hm. being a hero isn't very safe...' ('i know...') 'why don't you try to push him to visit you? keep him safe. maybe in a safe. don't you just wanna keep a hold of him?' ("i do, but that'll only drive him away. he's growing up... besides, if i was busy only keeping watch over him, who'd take care of you?") 'mm, good point. keep prioritizing me, i will neither put a hit on the kid as competition nor do anything to keep him safer.'

5. Reveal... uh yeah so Hisashi does mention to Izuku when his boyfriend goes missing, sometimes he gets called to work suddenly but he's never been gone this long, he's worried, is he restocking his meds, where is he? oh yeah, he vanished around Kamino. unfortunate, but not incriminating on its own. What IS incriminating is rewound!AfO, looking at Izuku with a tilted head. "I can see bits of Hisashi in you, hm. Just the worst bits, luckily." Izuku starts realizing what this means. Bakugo distracts him and blasts him to the Shigaraki fight, because he also started to realize what it meant and simply did not want to deal with hearing anymore of that. Over at the ShigarAfO fight, AfO tries to keep throwing Izuku (and tomura) off their game by wondering if Hisashi will find this new, younger body nice as well- probably, its not like the man had the highest standards. Izuku and Tomura are united in such abosolute done-ness with AfO that he's immediately snuffed out of Tomura's head and nothing remains behind. Tomura is like 'uh, do you want a day's break and then a rematch because i need to bleach my brain' but izuku is like 'oh no i need to punch someone through a mountain rn, lets keep going while i reform you with the power of friendship and incredible violence.' (By unspoken agreement, neither Izuku, Bakugo, or Tomura ever breathe a word about it to anyone, much less to Hisashi.)

#anon #pocket talks to people #ask game

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bananaplayzz · 2 months ago

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Morrotober Secret Santa

I FINALLY DID IT RAGHHH

I had writer's block through this entire thing, and deleted about 3 tries before this, it's not my best work, but it's here and I think they're silly. Enjoy the Alive Morro au I crafted for this and ignore the inconsistencies, I'm about to pass out of sleep. Happy late holidays @phantomrev @morrotober ______________________________________________________________

Just because he wasn’t investigating the serpentine with the other ninja did not mean Morro wanted Wu to stick him with his chaotic little cousin for the day, he didn’t even know how to take care of a kid.

“What do you even do all day? You barely do nothin’” Lloyd complained, breaking Morro out of his own internal complaints. “I do a lot, thank you.” Morro returned calmly, continuing to walk along the straight path the two had been on for the past hour. “You probably just meditate and drink tea all day like Uncle Wu.” He turned on his shoe, swinging his arms dramatically as he began to walk backwards in front of his older cousin.

“What do you do all day then?” Morro tilted his head, making sure nothing was behind Lloyd so he wouldn’t trip over backward.

“Hm… I do evil stuff” Lloyd shrugged, not elaborating whatsoever.

“And what-”Morro stopped, turning his head to stare at a specific window display, he stared at it, the thing looked so much newer, the coloured fabric changing the light as it shined through the wings of the butterfly shaped toy..

“What are you looking at?” The younger had kept walking for a little before going back, looking at the same thing Morro was, with a tilted head.

“Excuse me- you don’t know what a kite is?” He was baffled at the concept that anyone could not know what a kite was. Morro grabbed onto Lloyd’s wrist, dragging him inside the toy store. “I’m fixing your childhood right now.”

…

“It doesn’t work!” Lloyd stumbled back to where Morro was sitting on the park’s grass, he had told Morro he could do it by himself, but alas, the kid clearly didn’t know how it worked. Lloyd held the plastic bit that held the extra string neatly, dragging the actual kite behind him along the grass. “The thing’s broken, you needa give it back.” Morro sighed, standing up from his spot and reaching out his hand to be passed the kite. “It’s not broken, you’re just doing it wrong.” The second Lloyd reluctantly plopped the plastic into Morro’s hand, Morro yanked the thing downwards on an angle, shooting the kite into the air, he lifted his hand up to the kite and it remained smoothly in the air. “Alright now, take the thing back, and just start running.”

Lloyd basically snatched the thing back, and started bolting away from Morro, as if he had just stolen something, the kite stayed in the air for a few seconds once Morro stopped pushing the wind up at the wings, but then swirled downward, crashing back into the grass.

So they tried, and then they tried again, and again, until Morro decided that Lloyd could just not fly a kite by himself, and so secretly offered assistance, which was definitely cheating, but the kid’s reaction to finally being able to fly the thing was worth whatever cheating Morro had to do.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #lloyd garmadon #morro ninjago #ninjago morro #morro wu #morrotober #morrotober secret santa

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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Once Upon a Time 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Andy Barber

Part of the Bookstore AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You don’t mind working evenings during the week. In the hour before closing time, it’s pretty slow. There isn’t much for you to do much follow the tune of the instrumental jazz and lean on the counter behind your till. Management is hidden in the back office so you don’t even need to pretend to work.

So it is that you’re startled at the unexpected figure strutting around the table of stationary and novelties across from the checkout. You stand straight as you smile at the man, not letting it falter as you recognise him. You brace yourself and swallow as your mouth runs dry. He’s been here almost every day this week; at least, when you’ve been in.

“Oh, uh,” you don’t notice anything in his hands aside from his cell phone, “Mr. Pine isn’t here, sir. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t reply until he’s at the counter. His blue eyes bore into you as he rests his hand against the edge, gripping his phone tight. A small furrow scrunches between his brows.

“I didn’t ask,” he smiles.

“Well, er, sorry, I thought…” you chew your lip nervously. Each time he’s been in, he’s asked for the store owner. You assume he knows him. And he’s of the demographic who likes to make a fuss when he doesn’t get what he wants. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“You shouldn’t have,” he agrees, still grinning.

You squirm and run your fingertips over the keyboard. “Well, is there anything I can help you find? We’re closing up soon–”

“You’re trying to get me to leave?” He challenges.

“Not at all,” you croak. “Sorry, sir.”

“Andy,” he pulls his hand away, instead crossing his arms and leaning his elbows on the counter. He reads your name tag, “it’s fine. I was just looking around. Figure a book might help keep me busy.”

He has a very intense way of watching you. Very on the point. He speaks directly to you, but you’re more the type to focus above someone or past them.

“Do you have a favourite genre?” You prompt. It’s easiest to talk about work and you have a dozen suggestions.

“Not really. You know, I work a lot and I never really had a chance to read much outside of deposition records,” he shrugs and raises his eyebrows, “don’t make my mistakes. Don’t waste your life working overtime. Enjoy the small things. Like books, you’re never gonna find a fairytale in real life.”

You feel a bit bad for him but try not to show it. You don’t want to insult it and he seems to pendulum between amiable and unapproachable. You nod and put on your customer service smile.

“Oh, thanks, I guess you’re probably right,” you eke out, “do you like thrillers? They’re pretty popular and we’re having a special.”

“Hm, I suppose that’s somewhere to start,” he rubs his beard, the hand clutching his phone against the counter as he leans on the same elbow, “what do you read?”

You give your usual answer, vague and not entirely false, “fantasy, mostly.”

“Like The Hobbit or whatever?” He wonders.

“Sure, I’ve read that,” you say.

“My wife– ex, now, she was a Tolkien fan,” his lips slant, “twenty years, no kids. Got nothing to show for it.” He pushes himself straight, “I’m sorry, you caught me on a bad night. I, whatever you suggest, I’ll take it. I need something to get my mind off of… everything.”

“Oh, sure, well, we have our best sellers down here,” you point over the counter and the racks between each till, “Conrad’s always a good choice.”

He hums and backs up. He peruses the books silently as you twiddle your fingers impatiently. You’ve had awkward encounters with customers before, almost daily, but something about him is a bit too cringe for you. You hate to even think like that. You feel mean. He’s just going through some things. And who isn't?

He plucks up a book and comes back to your till. He lays it down and slides his phone into his pants pocket, then reaches under his jacket. He takes out his wallet and pauses as he unfolds it, “wait, do you get commission? I could grab a few more.”

“Um, no,” you login and scan the barcode on the book, “but there’s a survey on you receipt. If you fill that out, I get credit for that.”

“Oh, sure, a survey,” he agrees as he slides out a card.

“And did you have our rewards card?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “what’s that?”

Great. You peek at the time in the corner of the till screen. It’s getting close to closing.

“So, for purchases you collect points. Kinda like air miles. When you buy items that are part of a promotion, you receive double, and for prestige members, there are triple point days. You can collect points to earn store credit.”

He nods and considers it. He tilts his head as his cheek dimples, “so, that costs money?”

“Yes, twenty-five dollars for paperback level and forty for prestige.”

He weighs the options. You expect the amounts to deter him like most customers. He taps his card on the counter, “you know what, I’ll do the forty. I’m looking to get into reading so I’ll be back for sure.”

“Oh, uh, right, okay,” you say with surprise, “I’ll just get you registered.”

You reach past the till and grab one of the cards displayed behind it. You scan it and go through the whole routine; name, phone number, email. You get all his info in and offer him a bag before you turn the debit machine towards him. He taps his card and the approval chirps loudly.

“Great, so, if you wanna do the survey,” you say as his receipt prints out, “you can scan this QR code and it will direct you straight to the survey.” You tear off the receipt and circle at the bottom, “my employee number is here, you’ll have to enter that and the transaction ID.”

You fold the receipt and hand it over. He takes it and looks it over with a squint. He raises his chin and gives a half-smile, “um, this QR thing? How do I… I’m sorry, I’m a bit slow. Could you show me?”

You want to say no. You want to point to the clock and tell him to have a good day but he’s actually going to do the survey. You need a good review.

“Sure, um, I’ll show you. Just on your phone,” you step closer as he digs his hand in his pants pocket, “let me see the receipt.”

“Thank you so much,” he says, “you’re so patient with me.”

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #drabble #bookstore au #au #series #once upon a time #defending jacob

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sweetbillwriting · 8 months ago

Text

In The Dead of Night

SIX

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, especially because I haven't seen the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: Happy Birthday Bill! ♥️

Eric and I decided we would meet at Jackie's that night. He would skip The Pulse and go there straight from his job because I had Odin. My sister didn't have any patience with dogs, so I couldn't leave him with them; I was obligated to have him by my side all the time.

Eric didn't feel comfortable with me strolling around his block waiting for him so I would go to Jackie. It felt like the best option, even if Jackie could be a bit special, but something told me he would never make a pass at me again now that I was in some sort of companionship with Eric.

When I arrived at Jackies’, he stood pressed up against the doorframe to the living room and didn't let Odin go with his eyes. He, in return, jumped even more because there was a soul giving him attention. He barked twice when I didn't release the leash off his collar fast enough; when he was free, he jumped around and on Jackie's legs in a wild dance.

“I'm sorry, are you afraid of dogs?” I asked while taking Odin by the collar and pulled him away from the terrified Jackie.

“Nah, no. He's just bigger than I thought.”

I smiled a little and let Odin go again so he could check around in Jackie's small apartment. It seemed like he was looking for someone, but that could also have been my own feelings talking.

I sat down on Jackie's couch a bit awkwardly. He had a series on I couldn't place, but it looked like some sort of fantasy. Jackie himself still stood and watched Odin run around his apartment, and I feel a bit stupid for being there with him if he was scared. Eric had said it was okay, and that was the only thing I had been able to go on.

“I had a question for you,” said Jackie suddenly but had a hard time letting Odin go with his eyes.

“Okay?” I said curiously and sat up a bit. I had no idea what he would ask and wondered if he maybe hadn't understood Eric and I were more than friends.

Jackie sat down next to me on the couch while messing with his phone, then he turned it towards me.

“Is this you?”

It was our conversation on Snapchat, where I asked for Eric's contact information. I wanted to deny that it was me, but I knew it was too obvious that it was me, and the lie would not look good if he told Eric.

“Yeah, it's weird, but you're not the person I thought I wrote to,” I laughed and shrugged my shoulders.

“I can't actually remember your face from that night at all?”

Jack looked at me confused, then smirked a little.

“Maybe we both were really drunk then. Or high.”

I laughed and made a face like he probably was right. I had some luck; Jackie wasn't the brightest.

“Was Eric at that party?”

“No. To be honest, I've just seen him around, like out and…” I swallowed. I didn't get this story to work at all and felt my mouth get dry as cotton. Jack’s smile fell, and I believed he had been able to see through my lie, but Jackie had other priorities in life than protecting his friend from stalkers.

“Is it because of the abs?”

“Hm?” The question was so off topic I couldn't understand it.

“You mean you just saw Eric and then you wanted him that bad? I mean… It's the abs, right? You know, he just looks that muscular because he's just skin and bones. I would also look like that if I didn't allow myself a pizza. Maybe he's like anorexic or something?”

You could hear Jackie's envy clearly in how he spoke, and I couldn't stop myself from smirking, not only of the pettiness but also because he had ignored my incoherent story so fast.

“Or is it the height? So you know, I'm bigger than him. It's not like height tells something about that. I'm much bigger than him.”

I nodded a little to please him so he wouldn't be upset and wish me any harm. I needed him on my side.

Jackie smiled a little, then he dragged his thick but short fingers over my arm. I didn't say anything; I just let him believe he had a chance until my phone lit up with Eric's number.

“Hey,” I answered fast with an excited giggle.

“Hey,” he said happily but with a nervous sound after.

“Hey,” I said again, and then he did the same with a chuckle.

“Are you on your way?” I asked when I realized we couldn't just say “hey” to each other.

“Yeah, I’ll probably be there in like, twenty minutes?”

“Maybe I can meet you?”

Eric was quiet for a moment then made an amused exhalation.

“Is it Jackie? Is he weird?”

“Yes,” I said with a silly voice. I didn't say more than that so Jackie wouldn't understand we talked about him.

“He's weird sometimes, but he's just… Slow,” said Eric, like slow was a better word than what he actually wanted to say. I giggled at him but then continued our conversation.

“Can I meet you?”

“If you really want to meet me, you can go straight forward outside of the door and wait by the light pole with the anarchist symbol. You will see it if you just continue going right forward.”

“Is it you who made the symbol?" I teased while I stood up from the couch. Eric laughed, and it made me laugh too.

“Could have been! But Delilah, take Odin with you; I don't want—”

“Leave Odin here?” I looked towards Jackie to try him, and he looked up at me with panicked eyes. “I don't think Jackie has time for him.” Jackie nodded relieved and looked towards Odin, who was lying on the ragged carpet with one of his socks.

"Oh, okay, but yeah, take him with you, these neighborhoods aren't the best.”

It was hard to miss Eric when he was so tall and broad shouldered. He walked with purpose, and I saw him put his headphones in their case when he noticed me. It looked like he was dressed completely in black, just like me, but I was dressed in jeans and a black tube top under my black fur jacket. Something told me he wasn't as dressed up. When he walked under a streetlamp that lit up his chiseled facial features, Odin started to pull on the leash and bark. I took hold of him and hushed him, but he continued to dance around in excitement. He acted like he knew the man walking towards us even if they had never really met.

When Eric came up to us, he did something so smoothly I couldn't follow his motion. After letting Odin sniff his hand, he patted his cheek smoothly but then back over his chest which made him stand slick to his side. Odin looked up at him, and Eric looked back before telling him, with a firm voice, to sit. Odin did what he said and wagged his tail when he got a stroke on his cheek and neck as an encouragement. I looked at them with my mouth slightly open. It was insane seeing how easy it was for Eric but also so sexy. He wore dark blue work pants and a black hoodie and didn't look like a man I would have wanted to meet under a streetlamp before I got to know him. He looked up at me and smiled sweetly.

“Hey.” His way of smiling was so cute and kind, but I could understand how some would miss it being too distracted by the facial tattoos and those mysterious eyes.

“Hi.” A sound of infatuation left my lips and I felt my cheeks warm from embarrassment. It caused an awkward silence between us because none of us knew how we would continue. I wanted to kiss him but didn't dare, and he seemed to use Odin as a reason to avoid a weird hello, but instead it became even weirder. I was used to guys taking the lead, but Eric didn't act like them at all and didn't seem to be in a hurry to get further in our relationship.

“Ehm,” he said after a while and looked towards Jackie’s building. “Should we..?”

I could feel the cringe in my body. He acted like the boys I dated in my teens, and I could feel how I started to act like my fifteen-year-old self when I nodded with an unsure smile. We walked in silence next to each other, Odin close to Eric, in his rhythm and Eric with his hands deep in the front pocket of his hoodie. I needed to kill the silence, even if it would be even more awkward.

“How was work?”

Eric gave me a quick glance and then started to dig in his pockets. He pulled out a cigarette package from a pocket on his thigh and lit a cigarette with a cobalt blue Bic lighter.

“Eehh… good,” he said shortly, but after two drags he seemed to relax and understand he must say more than that to keep a conversation going.

“An elevator had gotten stuck with nine drunk guys that weren't even in the right building. It was too heavy.”

“Nine? That's just stupid… Ehm, do you have some sort of education in this?”

Eric was quiet, and for a moment I thought I said something stupid.

“I'm a welder… But I got fired from my first job and… Yeah, I didn't feel like doing it again.”

I looked at him with big eyes and just waited for him to tell me more. I could almost guess why he lost the job, and I hoped he would share it now with me, but he didn't; instead, he smiled at me and changed the subject.

“So Jackie is a pain in the ass?”

I laughed, but there was a hint of disappointment in it. I wanted the subject to be deeper than that.

“Yeah… He says you're anorexic?”

Eric laughed and shook his head.

“Because of my abs?”

I laughed more sincerely now and nodded.

“How did you know?”

“He has said it before. That I'm just a skinny dude, and you can see my muscles better because of it.”

“Is that true?”

Eric smirked and looked at me.

“You can investigate that later.”

The flirty comment came unexpectedly, and I made an amused but surprised sound. His body he seemed to not be insecure about. Eric laughed embarrassed, like he wanted to take back what he had said, but the laugh also seemed to relax him, and I could see it in his face and posture.

“I'm happy you came, ehm… It's too bad we work like we do?”

“You mean that I work during the weeks, while you work nights on the weekends?” I said with a warm but a bit disappointed smile.

“Yeah! My job sucks in so many ways.”

“What would you like to work with?”

Eric stomped out his cigarette and started to play with the lighter in his hand.

“I don't know. I don't think I can get something better anyway. I'm glad I have a job.”

“But if?”

I looked at him interested, and he looked a bit awkward in the spotlight.

“I like to draw, but that's not a job?”

“You do?” I thought about what he had said in my dreams—that he drew when he was younger.

“Mm. I had a long pause for several years, but I've started again. A few months ago. I guess a creative job like yours would be amazing.”

“We could have a business together; I do people’s hair and you tattoo them,” I joked, but there was some seriousness in it too. Eric chuckled lowly.

“I have a machine, but I’ve just done really ugly tattoos on myself and friends. It's another craft. I like the drawing pad.”

I just nodded a little as an answer because we had arrived at Jackie's entrance door.

I was disappointed we had arrived just when he had started to open up, but I had hoped we wouldn't stay with Jackie that long. Maybe he could just smoke with him, then we could walk to his place instead.

At Jackie's, two other guys had joined. One had a similar look as Eric, with a short, uneven haircut and small, silly tattoos spread over his arms in an irregular pattern; the other one didn't have any tattoos at all and looked surprisingly basic. The tattooed one they called Granny for some reason they didn't tell me, while the other they just called Karl. But they didn't call Eric, Eric, instead, they called him Crow. I looked at him and wondered if it was because of his black hair, the eyeliner he seemed to use sometimes, but I started to realize I wouldn't be able to guess. Eric sat leaned back on the couch with Odin laying half way up in his lap while I sat on his other side with my feet up on the couch. I had felt Eric's hand graze my shin a couple of times; otherwise, he just treated me like a new friend in their group.

“Why do they call you Crow?” I asked with a low voice, just to him. Eric looked at me and smiled a little embarrassed. He was on his way to answer, but Karl interrupted him.

“He has his own Crow.”

I looked between Karl and Eric a bit confusingly.

“The first time we were at his place, a crow landed on the roof outside of his window, and he let it in like it was the most natural thing. And he called it Crow, so we gave him the same name. It was cute.” Karl smirked towards Eric, who still looked a bit embarrassed. I looked at him, then down at my dog, being more pleased than he had ever been.

“I guess I'm just good with animals?” Eric said with a shoulder shrug and caressed Odin behind his ear calmly. The dog just made a pleased sound.

“Yeah… I can see that. Odin is the worst otherwise.”

Eric smiled a little and just shrugged his shoulders again. He was the modest type. When he finally looked up at me, our eyes met, and my heart started to beat hard in my chest. I didn't know if the others looked at us because in that moment it was just us, like in my dreams. We leaned closer together, and our lips met in a hungry kiss. He tasted like weed, and I probably tasted like the cheap beer Jackie had given me. We kissed a couple more times, and I stood up on my knees to reach him better. Eric dragged his long fingers over my waist and let a soft finger tip crawl in under the edge of my top to feel my naked skin. I giggled a little into his mouth because it tickled, and I could feel him smile.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We get it, you're horny, but you don't need to do that here!” Said Jackie, upset with a bitter undertone. Eric released my lips, but I sat down in his lap, to both Jackie's and Odin's irritation.

“Isn't it hot in here?” Said Eric and looked at me, then at Jackie. I knew at once what it was about. "Yeah, it's hot in here?” He said with a smirk.

“Yeah, it's hot in here.” I giggled, agreeing with him.

Eric signaled to me to move a bit from him so he could pull off his white t-shirt. Granny and Karl didn't react to his naked skin, but I looked at Jackie and saw him look at him with irritation. I couldn't really understand their friendship because Jackie clearly felt a grudge towards Eric.

However I didn't look at Eric with irritation; I just looked at his body greedily. He wasn't just a thin guy. His arms were strong and big. I could see every muscle flex in his upper body in a way they hadn't if he had just been skinny. He was in perfect shape.

“That's some ugly tattoo, man,” said Karl and pointed towards a face by Eric's nipple, or the nipple actually was an eye. It was ugly, like many of his tattoos.

“Yeah, that one was a bad idea.” Eric shook his head while I changed my position, straddling his lap. Karl lost Eric's attention at once when I started to drag my finger over the horsehead on his side. Eric looked at me with big eyes, so big he almost looked animated.

"Can't we go to your place?” I said lowly and moved down closer to his crotch. Eric dragged his hands over my thighs and licked his lips.

“Do you want that?”

It was such a stupid question after mine, but by looking at him, I understood he was serious.

“Yes.”

He nodded a little.

“Yeah, okay then.”

×××

“It feels like you have so many sides to explore, but you are so shy,” I said with a little giggle speaking to Eric while we walked to his home. I let him hold the leash because Odin just wanted to be by his side anyway. Eric gave me a glance and shrugged his shoulders.

“Not really. If you think about the crow, it's the only fun thing I can tell.” He smiled a little, but it didn't feel completely relaxed. “Why did you get a dog? Have you always wanted a dog?”

I shook my head and looked at Odin.

“I share him with a friend who loves dogs, but he didn't feel he had time for one by himself, and I was restless, so… Yeah, a dog felt like a good idea, but I'm not so sure anymore. I'm not that good at it, and my friend believes he is, but I think he gives Odin too little love.”

Eric gave me a crooked smile.

“That says a lot about you, I think.”

“Hm?”

“You're more for love than discipline… I like that.” He smiled warmly at me, and I felt my cheeks get warm. “Some look down on people being sweet to their pets, but I just think it shows me it's a person I want to be around. That tries to get respect with love. Not being a pushover or like that, but just… choosing love.”

I felt it tickle all over my body when he talked so sweetly, and as a reflex, I took his arm and pressed my cheek against his bicep. He looked down at me, and I wondered if I had taken it too far, but he just moved his arm to lay around my shoulders instead.

We talked more about our jobs, music, and our friends. I even talked about Robin, but never by name. Eric just found out I had a guy friend I worked with, had a dog with, and that he knew the most things about me. He never asked for his name.

We continued to talk even up in his apartment, but then I became reminded of what happened the last time I was there. The couch cushion didn't have a cover, instead, it was covered with a plaid blanket. It made the whole couch look cheaper and older than it had before, and I laid my hands over my face while Odin tipped around, looking and sniffing at everything.

“A new cover is on its way. Just IKEA that is slow,” he said with a kind smile and just like the last time he opened the fridge.

“I've… I have other stuff other than eggs at home if you want something?” I walked up to him and looked in the fridge, and bread was lying on the counter.

“Have you shopped for me?” I said with a giggle and hugged his waist.

Eric looked down at me and scratched his neck, embarrassed.

“I just… I wanted to have something else to offer you.”

“You're so sweet!” I said it with an extra cute voice and stood up on my toes so I could kiss his cheek. Eric smirked a little, and with heavy eyes he leaned down for a real kiss instead. We kissed a couple of times, just soft and sweet, but it didn't stop both my heart and sex from beating so hard I wondered if he could see it on the outside of my body.

×××

Eric opened a beer for each of us, and then we sat down on the couch, me on the plaid blanket. I decided that myself because it didn't feel more than right. The couch felt too small for us both; not that I complained about sitting close to him, but neither one of us seemed to sit comfortably.

“I should really get a bigger couch, but I haven't had money for it,” he said, a bit embarrassed. “I'm mostly in bed when I relax; you know, stretch out.” It almost sounded like an invitation, and for a moment I was the one getting nervous, and I locked myself in, in his bathroom.

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and fixed my mascara that had crumbled into pieces under my eyes. I didn't feel hot enough for Eric, and I wondered if it was that which stopped him from making a serious move towards me, or did he? In awkward ways, like saying he likes spending time in his bed? I walked out of the bathroom when it felt like I'd been there a little bit too long.

“I can't just sleep with her… It doesn't feel right.” I heard Eric say with a low voice, and I understood quickly he was speaking on the phone. "It's not what she wants, I think. And I… The one night stand thing doesn't give me much. But I can't date. You know that too. And she's a good girl… Eh, fuck, it feels like I'm fooling her.”

I walked closer to the living room to hear what he said, but that made Odin look towards the hallway, and Eric reacted at once at his movement. Stupid dog.

“I must hang up. Thank you, Nick.”

I tried to walk out like I hadn't heard anything, but Eric dragged his hands over his thighs and smiled at me apologetic.

“I guess you heard that,” he said and continued to drag his hands over his thighs. I shrugged my shoulders.

“A bit.” Eric nodded and looked towards the TV even if it was off, and the most interesting thing he could see was his mirrored self. I sat down next to him, and he looked at me with big, sad eyes. It was that gaze I had seen in all the photos of him, like he was close to giving up.

“I have a lot in life right now… Or, or rather, I've always had a lot in life and…” It was obvious he had a hard time finding the words, but I knew what he wanted to say. He said it the first time we met too, but I clearly needed a reminder because I had started to think about him as a potential boyfriend.

“I can't date, and I know I'm not the sort of person you want to date. I’m constantly a source for disappointment…”

I didn't like hearing him talk about himself like that, but I still wanted him to tell me with his own words about his addiction.

“What do you mean?” I asked and sat down closer to him so I could drag soft fingertips through his hair.

“I'm sorry if you feel I fooled you. I just get caught up in it? I really think you're special, but…” He looked out in the air and didn't say anything more; he just sucked his lips.

“Why are you a disappointment?” I asked again. At that moment, I didn't care that he tried to push me away. I wanted him to talk about his addiction, and I would be with him even if he felt like he wasn't worthy of me.

“I just… Never succeed with anything. I hurt people. I use people. To be honest, I'm a fucking asshole,” he said with an unamused laugh.

"No, you're not.” I played with the longer hair by his neck and looked at him sincerely; it was just that Eric gave me the same kind of look back.

"Yes, I am. I will break every promise I give you; I will stand you up; I will take your money; I will cheat. That's the man I am.”

He leaned forward on his forearms against his knees and dropped his head so I couldn't see his face.

“That's not you, Eric.”

I said it even if I wasn't sure. He was such a sweet, humble guy, but I had no idea if he was that person all the time, and he said the same words both Robin and Simone had said.

Eric covered his face with his big tattooed hands. I wondered if he was crying and if he wanted me to comfort him. When he looked up again, he looked at me with resignation.

“I think about drugs every other minute. I can't even be present in reality because I just want a fix.”

I felt my eyes tear up because I really thought he was over it. I thought the drugs were a part of his past.

“That's not true,” I said again because I didn't want to believe his words.

“That's why I work out so much. Because without it, I would do anything to get a syringe of morphine just pushed into my veins.”

It felt like he said it that way to give a shock effect, but it was just as awful to hear it anyway, and silently I started to cry.

“That's not true…”

Eric didn't say anything, and it made me just sob louder. It was probably a bit much that I sat and cried like that for a guy I've met twice, but I had known him for a much longer time than he understood. After a few seconds, he took me in his arms so I could cry against his chest. He hugged me close and warmly, and he probably saw it as some sort of ending for my belief in him as a boyfriend. He let me go slowly when I had calmed down, and he dragged his hands over my upper arms comfortingly.

“Do you want me to call you a cab? I understand if you feel that you don't want to stay here with me.”

The irony was that he looked hurt even if he was the one pushing me away. I looked into his sad eyes and then patted his high cheekbone.

“I want to be with you…”

He licked his lips and pulled me up in his lap.

“I have warned you now. I will disappoint you.” His eyes wore a shine that made them glitter like emeralds.

“I don't care.”

My voice was determined, and my move to take his cheeks in my hand to kiss him with passion was just as determined. Eric kissed back and took a hard grip in the back of my neck and let his tongue wrestle with mine. Making love with mine.

×××

It was me who started to take off his clothes, but it was he who carried me to his bed. I had always felt self-conscious when guys tried to lift me. I felt heavy when they didn't succeed in carrying me comfortably, but Eric lifted me so easily I felt weightless. He threw me up, straddling his waist, and I didn't even need to hold myself there with my thighs because his strong hands holding my ass did the work. I giggled into the kisses when he carried me to bed while hugging my ass. He laid me down on the bed smoothly while our kisses started to just be our tongues licking each other. I dragged my hands down his muscular back, and I touched the small marks where I could feel his tattoos being tattooed too deep. Eric pulled away, standing on his knees. His eyes were dark and excited, and I took the moment to pull off my top and bra and then also my jeans. He helped me take them off, then stood up to kick off his own pants. I looked at him with big eyes where he stood just dressed in blood red Armani boxers. His perfect muscular body, covered in tattoos with various qualities and artistry. I could see the imprint of a long, thick line in the boxers, and I was quite sure Jackie had lied earlier. Eric even looked bigger than in my dreamworld.

I sat up in bed, moved to the edge of the bed, and dragged him by the hips towards me. His cock was just in front of me, and I could feel his big eyes on me when I dragged my tongue over the fabric of the underwear, tracing the thick line laying up against his hip. I kissed the tip through the fabric and nuzzled it with my nose until it twitched in its tight restraint. Eric breathed out heavily.

“I want to sleep,” he said with a strained voice. I looked up at him with my cheek pressed against his erection. “I want to sleep,” he said again, then moved away so he could lay down in bed. I looked at him in shock while he crawled down under the cover, acting like he suddenly was super tired. He closed his eyes hard, probably to make it seem like he fell asleep at once.

×××

When I woke up, the radio was on, and a commercial about a new Mazda was the first thing my newly awakened brain took in. I woke up at the same place I had fallen asleep, next to Eric in midnight blue satin sheets. He laid on his belly with his face towards me. I looked at him sadly. I wanted him so much, but he was the most difficult guy I've ever met, even if he also, probably, was the kindest one. I looked at his facial features, the high forehead, the oval face shape, and the perfect mix of male and female attributes. He was pretty as a doll. I had memorized some of the pictures from his childhood and could see the little boy in his face, even if he had fine lines around his eyes.

I looked at the tattoos and sighed, just they could tell me he wasn't as easy as Dante or anyone else of my exes.

The pain in my chest spread slowly out in my body and made me almost feel sick, so I felt forced to leave Eric alone in bed; instead, I looked around in his studio apartment. In a corner he had training equipment, and I could just say what half of it was. The training had been attractive in my eyes, but now, after his confession, it felt dirty. It was just a coping strategy. His kitchen was quite empty but looked cleaned. It didn't look like he used it so much. On one wall he had a big painting of a samurai. Next to the couch was a big window with a broad window sill. It could have been a cozy place to sit, but Eric had mostly books in it, like a shelf. I looked through the titles. Much was about Asia, martial arts, but also art. It was several horror books by Poe and Lovecraft, but also others. A few about bands like Sex Pistols and The Cure. One book about Vivienne Westwood but also sketchbooks. I couldn't stop myself from pulling them out. They were marked with a year, and I looked in one from that year. He was really good. Really, really good. He painted in a mix of classic Japanese art, anime, and his own personal style with a black marker pen. Mostly he painted animals, fighting guys and naked women. I looked with big eyes at a woman spreading her legs while a Chinese dragon pushed his way out of her sex. There were erotic pictures, even the one I couldn't stop staring at. It was painted like a comic, with several squares. It was a woman, dancing in a fountain, topless. Her hair was similar to mine, and she had flared jeans. You couldn't see her face really, but there were several drawings of her breast, wet, her own hands playing with the nipples, or a man's big, tattooed hands hugging them in his wide palms. It felt stupid to think about, but that was my breasts. I could see it was mine, and I could see it was his hands. In the last picture, you could see a woman's lips sucking the man's tattooed fingers. You didn't see her face, just lips and hollowed cheeks. That was me. I was certain it was me.

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #fan fiction #writing #story #bill skarsgård writing #bill skarsgård fanfiction #fiction #the crow #Eric #In the Dead of Night

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the-forbidden-pookie · 2 years ago

Text

Little blunder

College AU

Tw: SFW, can be read as gender neutral tho written with a fem reader in mind, fluff.

Pairing: Dan Heng x Reader.

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

You pull up in front of the apartment complex and slowly get off your bike. You take out your phone, swipe past the 99+ notifications from every group chat you're in and go straight to Dan Heng's contact.

The last messages there were "Hey, I think I have a crush on someone and need advice" and his reply, "wanna talk about it after tutoring tomorrow?"

You type "Here", then quickly make your way up the stairs. With any luck, he's just woken up -today was his day off- and still hasn't seen any messages about this morning's... fiasco.

You reach his apartment door just as he unlocks it, probably after he heard you approach, and give him a quick greeting, closing the door behind you as you enter.

"So," he starts, "should we focus on History or Chinese literature today?" He asks, still under the impression you're here for your regular tuesday afternoon tutoring sessions. Then... He doesn't know yet. Ok, that's good.

"Actually..." You start slowly, gathering your courage to just be done with it. Come on, I can do this! You think, attempting to pump yourself up. "I'm here to borrow something" You lie instead... Hm. Maaaaybe I can't do this ...

"Of course you are," An eye roll. "what do you need this time? A dictionary? A calculator? Or am I a living dictionary, calculator, and thesaurus all in one?" Had things been normal you would've probably laughed.

"Well you see..." You glance around his apartment nervously, and say the first thing that comes to mind. "I kinda need your dish washer?" You try, and proceed to mentally facepalm. Really?! His dishwasher?!

He narrows his eyes in clear confusion. "You need... my dish washer?" He repeats. "What do you want a dish washer for? You don't even cook?" He sighs.

"If you're planning on borrowing stuff that's mine, then just ask. No need to make stupid excuses like needing my dish washer, of all things. I am your friend, you know that, right?"

"Ahahaha the school population might disagree at the moment." You reply nervously.

"..." He gives you another confused look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

You take a deep breath. "Soooo you know how I've been volunteering to help out the broadcasting club? With equipment maintenance and such?"

He nodded, though now he just looks more confused.

"Right um, about a month ago, I found a club member crying alone after a bad breakup... To comfort him I told him he was a great guy, that anybody would be lucky to-"

"Didn't you already tell me all that?" He interrupted quickly, probably sensing you were still stalling.

"Right, right, just making sure you remember." You answer smoothly enough.

"So anyways, that guy may or may not have asked me out for the school dance?" You pause, gauging his reaction, but he turned his usual pokerface back on, and it gives away nothing.

"Uh? Congratulations?" Realizing he won't say anything more, you move on for now. "No, no. I didn't agree or anything," you say quickly. "Instead I uh, may have rejected him by saying I have a boyfriend, and when he insisted I was lying, I maaaaayyyyyy havesaiditwasyou?" You rush through the last part as your nerves get the best of you.

"..." There's silence in the room as Dan Heng stares at you, processing what you'd just said. He swallows and takes a deep breath. "You. Did. What?" His words are measured.

"I panicked? I'm sorry!"

"Panic led you to name-drop me as your non-existent boyfriend?" He asks with a hint of irritation.

"Well that's because I was thinking about you-" You say before you could think better of it, and by the time your hand slaps your mouth shut it was already too late.

A small smile spreads across his face. The first unguarded reaction you'd seen him make since the beginning of this conversation. "Really?" He asks. "Did you... did I happen to cross your mind as you rejected that person?" He looks at you, his eyes narrowed in amusement.

You blush. HARD. "Well- I- I mean! Yes! of course because-" You think of a quick lie "-because I needed to return your..." You slide your hand into your pocket, pull out the first thing you find, a chewing gum packet he'd given you the day before and say "The- This...?" You end Lamely.

He shakes his head, smiling. "Nice try," he says, "but there's something else on your mind. You're bad at lying." He puts his hands on his waist and smirks.

"Now, tell me the truth. Why did you name me?"

You sigh, utterly defeated... As expected of Dan Heng "Well, I guess I wanted to ask you out to the school dance? I- I've been meaning to finally tell you today but then that guy came out of nowhere and asked me to go with him and I just- welp." You shrug.

He raises a brow "Wait... am I... your crush?" He asks, not believing the question. "It's me, isn't it? Huh." He tilts his head, a bit confused and amused.

"But... why? Why would you be into me? I'm literally the definition of a nerd," he says while glancing over to his desk, cluttered with books and his gaming build.

You jump at the opportunity to tease him "What's this Dan Heng? Are you fishing for compliments?" You ask slyly, hoping to make him blush so it wouldn't be just you.

His ears immediately turn red. "No, I'm serious," he says, "Why me?" He looks at you with a puzzled look, then says, "I mean, I'm flattered, but I don't get it. Out of all the boys in class, why me? Not that I'm complaining, mind you," he chuckles.

A small win for me! He went blushy blushy! You giggle to yourself. "Well what's there not to like? You're always there for me, be it calling me first thing in the morning to make sure I'm awake for classes or tutoring me so I understand the material, you even cook extra portions of food for me because I am not um... adept in the kitchen. Like how thoughtful is that? Honestly how could I possibly not fall for you?" By now you've completely run out of breath.

Dan Heng's cheeks are flushed pink. I can die happy now "Y-You... you're actually serious?" He asks, feeling a wave of relief and joy wash over him. "Because I... I feel the same about you. You're so... you're the sweetest, kindest, most considerate person I've ever met, (Y/N). You're always helping people, even in things completely unrelated to your own life... I mean, broadcasting equipment maintenance? You had to learn a completely new skill just to help them with that."

He took a deep breath, seemingly steadying himself, then continued.

"And... I just have this feeling whenever I'm with you, my heartbeat quickens and my stomach turns in a flutter. Do you... do you feel the same?" This was probably the most honest and vulnerable he's ever been with you.

You smile brightly. "Yes! And I'm ecstatic you do too!!!"

He smiles as well and nods. "When's the dance, again?" He asks. "And how should we tell our friends that we're dating, now that I've said yes to your... confession?"

"If it even is called a confession?" He mumbles in amusement.

"Ah yeah about that..." You smile sheepishly, debating how to break this one to him.

"What... what is it, (Y/N)?" He tilts his head in curiosity. "Tell me. I don't bite," he teases.

"Sooo, remember how this whole thing started in the broadcasting room? Remember how March uhhh... Sometimes forgets the mic open?"

Dan Heng's eyes widen. "No way."

"Hahah... Yeahhhh." You fish your phone out of your back pack, unlock it and pick a random group chat. Sure enough, the chosen conversation topic is still the "Broadcasted failure of a confession LMAO!!" You hand him your phone, let him scroll through the messages, knowing he probably doesn't bother to even join most of these group chats.

"Huh," he starts, "aren't they being a bit... Harsh on this gu- wait." His eyes narrowed. "What does Jing Yuan mean by 'he was being a total creep??'" he asks alarmed, now looking at you.

"Ehh that might be an exaggeration? He probably means how the guy wouldn't take no for an answer, it's kinda why I had to lie in the first place, I mean I was being considerate at first but he really wouldn't let up... Huh now that I think about it, maybe Jing Yuan's right. "

Dan Heng didn't seem to like that one bit.

"You know what? I'm actually fine with the broadcast thing," He replied coolly. "If more people knew about my feelings for you, then that's great. As long as they know you're dating me now."

"So. Are you going to be my date for the dance?" He asks.

You grin. "I'd be honored to!"

"Great." Dan Heng smiles and reaches out to hug you. "So then... that means we're officially a couple?" He grins slyly. "And does that mean you'll call me honey now?" Oh he's trying to make you blush.

You smile back, every bit as mischievous "I was actually thinking of calling you: Darling, love of my life, light of my days, and saviour of my grades! But sure whatever you like." You say innocently. He laughs.

"I think I like that last one," he says, reaching out to brush a stray hair away from your face. "But I want you to call me Dan Heng, alright? If I ever heard someone refer to me as "Darling" or "Love", I'd probably turn into a ripe strawberry." He seems to consider something for a moment then says: "And when we see each other at the dance, will I be able to give you a kiss?" He asks cheekily.

"...!" When they go bold I go BOLDER! " You can kiss me right now." You say, summoning every last bit of confidence within you.

He leans in and gently presses his lips onto yours, holding it for a moment before breaking apart. "Will that suffice?" he asks with a grin.

"Now, come on. We better hurry up. All our friends are probably waiting for us at the cafe," he says and offers to take your hand.

"They're gonna be thrilled. Imagine how happy March will be, learning her little blunder for once caused something great." he adds with a bright smile.

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

Author's note:

Alhaitham: I'm just a feeble scholar.

Dan Heng: I'm literally the definition of a nerd.

Kaveh & I : \(O-o)/

#dan heng #hsr dan heng #dan heng x reader #dan heng x y/n #dan heng x you #hsr #college #college au #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail fanfiction #honkai star rail leaks #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #dan heng honkai star rail #hsr au #au #alternate universe #fluff #getting together

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berryunho · 2 years ago

Text

THE ANSWER: XXV

Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers ‘sect.’ pairing: ateez x fem reader genre: cult au, thriller, angst check warnings on AO3

← previous || next → || masterlist chapter word count: 10,689

You had half expected for the entire farm to be torn apart by the time you woke up, but your morning proceeds exactly as it has for however long its been since you got here. Of course, you’re also extremely on edge the entire time, you can’t swallow a single bite of your breakfast (no matter how many times San offers you a bite of his), you convince yourself that Hongjoong is staring at you harder than normal, and the lights seem too bright and the people too loud.

You just… keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely they’ve realized that Haseul is gone by now, so why is no one acting like it? Realistically, its probably to keep people from panicking. If they sounded the alarms and started a manhunt, that wouldn’t look too good, especially when the cops show up.

There has never been a time in your life where you've been excited at the prospect of cops. Until you found yourself in this goddamned situation. Nothing could possibly be more satisfying to you than watching Hongjoong and Seonghwa get arrested, nothing better than testifying against them in a trial and watching them get put away for the rest of their earthly lives.

There is the chance that San would be arrested too, though. Which would… be completely justified, but suck all the same. San has definitely been an accessory to murder, and at least willfully has covered up various murders and kidnappings… which is not cool.

But how can you not look past those things when he’s pouting at you for not eating a single thing at breakfast? It’s not his fault that he’s here, right? That he was brainwashed and coerced into his role? You can’t blame him for acting for his survival.

“You can’t just stop eating because you’re worried,” he nudges you once you’re back in your apartment. “You’ll wither away in this place.”

You brush off his comment, knowing that this new state of yours won’t last for very long, “It’s just one breakfast.”

San blinks at you, crossing his arms over his chest, “And what do they say about breakfast? Hm? The most important meal of the day?”

You roll your eyes, flopping down onto the couch. “What time is it?”

He flicks his wrist up, looking down at his watch, “eight forty-seven.”

Ugh. Not nearly close to time for book club. You have to wonder whether or not the cops will arrive before or after you’re forced to have one last chat with Hongjoong.

… Not that ‘forced’ is exactly the right word, here. No, you’re actually looking forward to this last meeting of yours. There are quite a few things that you would like to hear straight from the horse's mouth, rather than the police or the news or the lawyers or anyone else that might become involved. Plus, there are questions that probably could never be answered by anyone else. And you sure as hell don’t plan on visiting Hongjoong in prison.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

When that time of day finally rolls around, you’re practically flinging yourself out the door, tugging San along with you to make the short walk to Hongjoong’s door.

He barely gets his slippers on, stumbling behind you into the hallway, “Is there a reason you’re so eager today?”

“I have questions that I want answered.” You pull on his hand, poor San so confused that you can sense it in the hesitance of his steps.

When you arrive, you knock on the door, San stopping at your side as you wait for Hongjoong to answer, “But are you sure you feel up to this? We could say that you’re si—”

San’s proposal is cut off by Hongjoong answering the door. “Hello, you two.”

San mutters a hello back, but you’re too caught off guard by his appearance to give a proper greeting. “Why the hell are you dressed like that?”

Hongjoong frowns, looking down at his outfit. “Like what?”

“Like, like,” you look him up and down. He’s wearing all black, but not like the last time you had seen him not looking like a farmer. The day of your Choosing ceremony seems like so long ago, but you can still remember those freaky matching outfits quite well. No, he doesn’t wear any accessories and these clothes are less… industrial. The boots might be the same. Otherwise, the pants he wears now are nicer and his shirt a plain t with a long, black, silky… robe (?) over top. The sign of the answer is on his arm, sewn into the bicep. For a moment, you wonder who it is that does that embroidery; it’s quite nice. “Like a priest?” It’s not an exact comparison, but its the word your mind comes up with.

San nudges your side as Hongjoong rolls his eyes, “You really don’t pay attention during service, do you?”

“Not really.” San nudges you more urgently this time, giving you a bit of a pleading look when you glance over at him.

Hongjoong only sighs, stepping aside and opening the door wider to invite you in. You bid goodbye to San as you step inside, brushing past Hongjoong.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood, today?” Hongjoong shuts the door behind you, following you into his apartment.

“I have a lot I want to talk with you about,” you say, settling onto his couch. It’s true, there is a lot that you want to clear up. Haseul must have made it to town by now, and she must have sent the police already. There are some things that you need to hear from Hongjoong before its all over.

Hongjoong sits in his usual chair, looking at you with a bit of apprehension, “Is that so?”

“Yep,” you rest your elbow on the arm of the couch, leaning into your hand. “You never answered my question.”

“About the clothes?” He shakes his head, “Again, you would know if you paid attention.”

“Maybe I would be better able to focus on service if not for you conjuring up other things for me to worry about.”

Hongjoong frowns, “What are you worried about?”

You drop your chin, looking at him through your eyelashes, “Really?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, rolling his eyes. “I’ll admit that I might’ve lost my temper yesterday, but Haseul is perfectly fine, (Y/n).”

A giggle tries to escape you, but you manage to keep it in. You can’t decide if you’d rather Hongjoong know that you know the truth or not. On one hand, if you cut the bullshit, you might be able to have a better conversation. To get more answers to your questions. But… it could be possible that he has no idea the involvement that you or San played in her disappearance. That seems highly unlikely, but… You’re just not sure if you should risk it.

“You don’t believe me?” He asks, apparently impatient with your lack of response, “Do you want to see her?”

… That throws you for a bit of a loop. Why would he ask if he couldn’t back it up? Obviously he must know that you would say yes, that you would want to see her. So why would he offer something that he can’t provide?

Is it… is it possible that San lied? That he didn’t get her out? That he didn’t even try?

You stare at Hongjoong, trying to see if this is another one of his games. He stares right back at you, not a hint of emotion on his face. Yeah. That’s it.

“Can we cut the bullshit?” You ask, lowering your voice.

The corners of his lips twitch upward, only a little, “I don’t know what you mean, (Y/n). Do you want to see her or not?”

“We both know that Haseul isn’t here,” you blink, waiting for him to contradict you.

Contradict you, he does. “But she is,” he smiles, then, one of his knowing little smiles that already tells you what he’s thinking. He’s about to say something to hurt you. You know it. “It was a cute attempt, (Y/n), I must admit. Getting San to help you and all. I didn’t know he was so…” Hongjoong bites his lip, looking for the right word, “Enamored with you.”

You try your hardest to not betray the complete and utter sinking desperation you feel.

“That’ll be dealt with in its own time. Haseul is safe and sound in her room, with Mingi for company.” He smiles again, “You didn’t really think it would be so easy, did you?”

You want to scream. Why can’t anything work? Why can’t anything go your way? “I want to see her,” you whisper, attempting to keep your voice steady.

Hongjoong hums, “I think not, actually. Consider it your punishment for trying to get her out. I’ll let you off easy, since I knew that you would try something. Next time, I won’t be as gracious.”

There’s a million questions bouncing through your head now, having lost your advantage. You had been so confident coming into this apartment, so sure that things were going your way. Why didn’t you even… consider that she could’ve been caught? How foolish can you be?

You can practically feel the spark that you had fleeting out of you. It happened so fast. In less than two minutes, all of your hopes coming into this conversation were crushed. How can tha—

“But this leads us to another topic, (Y/n).” Hongjoong uncrosses his arms, leaning forward in his chair. “What’s going on with you and San? Hm?”

You take a sharp inhale, again trying to contain any hint of emotion. You would rather Hongjoong didn’t know how off guard he just caught you, and you would also rather that he not know about the… extent of your relationship with San. Which seems to be precisely where this conversation is about to head.

“Well, Hongjoong, we spend about every waking second together, thanks to you. So we’re close.”

Hongjoong frowns sarcastically, tilting his head, “Close enough that he would risk his neck to do you a favor? When he knows that he’s on thin ice with me?” He drops the expression, returning to his stony neutrality. “I’m giving you a chance to be honest, (Y/n). Maybe I’ll be nicer if I hear it from you instead of him.”

You blink at him, unsure of what to say. You honestly hadn’t really even… thought about how you would classify your relationship with him. Obviously you care about him, and he cares about you. And you get each other off occasionally, but, like… its not like he’s your boyfriend or something. You don’t feel like you should tell Hongjoong the truth… but you don’t want to make things worse for San, either.

“What, precisely, are you asking me, Hongjoong?” You probably sound more defensive than you should let on, but you can’t help it.

“Have you slept together?”

“No.”

Hongjoong shrugs, “Be that way, (Y/n), but what I can’t take out on you, I will take out on him.”

You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to think of a response, “But— Hongjoong, that’s the truth.”

He holds a hand up, shushing your stuttering attempts at defending yourself, “You’re really only going to make things worse for him if you keep talking. Which I’m sure would just break your little heart, hm?”

“Hongjoong, I’m being honest, I swear to Go—”

“Swear to God?” He smiles, “I thought you didn’t believe in me?”

If you weren’t so preoccupied with trying to prove San’s innocence, you would roll your eyes. Hongjoong and his fucking ego.

He cuts you off when you start to plead your case again, “I don’t believe you, do you know why?” His eyes are wide with curiosity as he blinks at you, a knowing smile on his face.

You don’t know why he’s so sure, but you don’t really want to know, either. Anyways, it is the God honest truth that you and San haven’t had sex, so you have no idea what he even thinks he knows. Unless he’s some sort of… Mormon or something, last time you checked, oral is generally not referred to as ‘sleeping together.’ Like, Christ, can you have no peace here?

You don’t respond, so Hongjoong continues, “Remember your next door neighbor, Seonghwa?”

Your face actually goes slack this time, a frown curling over your lips. “Seriously? Seonghwa is your source?”

“He’s rather trustworthy, in my experience.”

“Seonghwa. The man that hates me so much he wants me. You don’t see how he could, I don’t know, lie to get San in trouble to, I don’t know, get him out of his way?”

Hongjoong laughs, then, the sound echoing around his apartment. “No, I don’t see him doing that,” he says once he regains his breath, though it takes a few seconds. “He’s not so petty.”

You do scoff, then. Seonghwa has to be one of the pettiest people that you’ve ever met in your life. Like, seriously, no fucking way does Hongjoong believe him to not be petty.

That being said… you do find it a little hard to believe that Seonghwa would lie about this. He was the one that told you that San is not in the best situation with Hongjoong, and he seemed… sympathetic is the wrong word, but, like, he warned you about it. Would someone that was going to set you up give you such a head’s up? Plus, he did remind you of the fact that you were neighbors, which, like… yeah, okay. He could’ve heard something, but something doesn’t mean sex. People must masturbate here. What else is there to do? Could it not have been so simple in his mind’s eye?

No, you don’t think that Seonghwa would jump to the fantastical conclusion that you’re sleeping with San. Nor do you think that he would be so jealous as to risk putting Hongjoong’s ire on San. While he doesn’t seem to be the biggest fan of the guy, you didn’t get the vibe that he wants him dead or anything. So… yeah. The pieces aren’t adding up.

Might as well lean into it a bit, if there’s no convincing Hongjoong otherwise. “What would happen if I told you that San and I were together?”

Hongjoong’s smile goes tense, as if he wasn’t expecting you to ask such a thing. For the first time, the thought that he could be bluffing crosses your mind… maybe a moment too late. Hongjoong pauses, looking between you and the books on his coffee table.

“I,” He stops, tilting his head to the side as he keeps his eyes off of you, “honestly hadn’t truly considered it a possibility. Surely he cares for you, that’s to be expected, but…”

So he was just trying to taunt you, then. Part of you feels like you’ve triumphed by managing to take him off guard with something, but that something is… not something that he should actually think is true.

“Well, like I’ve been saying, Hongjoong, nothing has happened between us.”

He looks back up at you and you’re shocked to see his eyes shining wet in the light, “No?”

Your heart speeds up at the sight, reminded of the previous times that you’ve seen Hongjoong vulnerable. You don’t trust your voice to not shake, so you simply shake your head in agreement.

“You know that I don’t want to hurt San, right?” He asks, frowning, “But there has to be punishments for breaking the rules. I’m only trying to keep peace.”

You have no idea how Hongjoong feels about San. All you know is that this is making you extremely uncomfortable. Seeing Hongjoong cry is just, just so, ugh! You can’t control the way your heart squeezes in your chest, nor the guilt that broils in your stomach for being the cause of his distress. But… this is Hongjoong! He doesn’t deserve your empathy, but…

“I know, Hongjoong,” you whisper, moreso trying to get him to stop rather than actually express the sentiment.

He wipes his eyes, then, clearing his throat, “I suppose I can trust you, for now.” His gaze gets harder with each passing millisecond. “But I’m sure you can guess what will happen if I find out that you’re lying to me.”

You can definitely put the pieces together yourself. So you nod your head in agreement, hoping that he believes you in this case.

Hongjoong clears his throat again, fanning his face a couple times, “Was there anything else, then?”

“Oh, uhm,” in truth, there was a lot more that you wanted to ask him about. He never answered your question about his clothes, you want to know more about this girl that came before you, and more about what the fuck The Answer says about you. But it feels strange to ask about any of that, after… yeah. Whatever that just was.

… But you don’t actually care that much. So you decide to jump into the topic that he’ll probably like discussing with you the most.

“I had some questions about the Answer, actually…”

Hongjoong raises his eyebrows, a smile growing across his face, “Have you finally read ahead?”

Well… yes and no, but you’re not going to tell him that Wooyoung told you the gist of it, “Maybe a little bit.”

He claps once, genuine glee showing through his expression. He even giggles, and not in the creepy way that he sometimes does. “This is wonderful, (Y/n)!”

You give him an awkward smile, waiting for him to stop acting like a kid in a candy store.

“So? You have questions?” He leads, “I might have answers.”

Might. Isn’t that just the greatest word in existence. He definitely has all of the answers, considering all of this shit came from his own head; but he can pick and choose what he wants to withhold from you at any time. Because that’s Hongjoong. Always leaving an escape for himself.

“Well, I’m just curious about a few things…” You start, trying to figure out how to word your questions so that they’re as… inconspicuous as possible. “First, do you know how I’m supposed to… uhm, ‘bring about the Sign?’”

Hongjoong’s smile somehow grows even wider when you finish your question, “I’m proud of you, (Y/n). This is a huge step in your journey.”

You don’t like that. Nope. Not the way he just said ‘journey.’

But Hongjoong tilts his head to the side, letting his smile go, “But I’m not sure I can answer your question. I’ve yet to have the concrete vision.” He shrugs, “I honestly think that the vision will come to you rather than me.”

Oh Jesus Christ. Hongjoong has said some crazy bullshit to you before, but that is an entire new level. If he genuinely thinks that you’re going to believe that you are going to start having prophetic dreams because you’re supposedly some major figure in this goddamned cult lore, he has an entirely new thing coming for him.

But you doubt that he thinks you’ll believe him. You haven’t before, why would you now?

Your skepticism must show on your face, because Hongjoong continues. “It’s nothing to be afraid of. We’re linked, somehow, in the grand scheme of things, (Y/n). It’s you that was foretold.”

You blink, trying to not start screaming. Before you can really think too hard about it, you’re asking your next question.

“But how do you know that it’s me, Hongjoong? There was a girl before me, wasn’t there?”

The silence that follows is nearly as scary as Hongjoong’s reaction to your question.

His smile drops faster than you’ve ever seen.

“San told you this?” Hongjoong asks, his tone hard.

“Who told me isn’t important, I just want to talk about he—”

“It really is. Like I said, we have rules for a reason,” he tilts his head, folding his hands in his lap. “If you don’t tell me who it was, I will assume that it was San and he’ll be punished severely.”

Well fuck. There’s not really a way to say that it was someone else without incriminating (a) San, for leaving you with someone else, (b) yourself, and (c) Wooyoung. But you can’t very well say that it was San, given the earlier subject matter.

But you really don’t want to throw Wooyoung under the bus, either, considering all that he just confided in you. He’s been long tortured by this man already, and he already part-way resents you for it. If you told him…

There’s really only one other option.

“Seonghwa told me.” The words come out before you can really think about them. Seonghwa should be a good choice. He might hate your guts, but at least he has something of a soft (hard?) spot for you. If he gets in trouble, it should be okay. And, anyways, its not like Hongjoong would do anything to really punish Seonghwa, right? Surely not with whatever arrangement they have going on. Plus, fuck that guy for apparently ratting you out to Hongjoong. He lied to Hongjoong about you, you’ll lie to Hongjoong about him. Easy.

Hongjoong raises his eyebrows. “Seonghwa,” he doesn’t ask, simply restating his name. “Seonghwa told you.”

You shrug, “Is it so hard to believe?”

His face crinkles with confusion, “Yes, it is. See, Seonghwa is probably the last person I would expect you to hear that from, considering his loyalty to me and the disgust he felt over that entire situation.” He ponders for a second, “No, Seonghwa would be the second to last person; but the point still stands.”

‘Considering his loyalty’ to Hongjoong and his ‘disgust’ over that entire situation… Interesting details. Obviously, you know that Seonghwa is loyal to Hongjoong and wouldn’t ordinarily give you information that Hongjoong clearly doesn’t want you to know about. But his disgust? What does that mean?

Anyhow, you figure that, if you’re already throwing Seonghwa under the bus, it couldn’t hurt to make it just a little bit worse, right?

“I thought you would know the kind of pillow talk Seonghwa engages in.”

Hongjoong takes the longest blink you’ve ever seen, his eyes going wide as he stares at you. “Excuse me?”

You shrug your shoulders, trying your best to keep this facade up. Seonghwa is going to be so fucking pissed. And so is Hongjoong. But this has to be better than Wooyoung or San getting punished, right? You can deal with some anger. They’d probably fare much worse.

“I’m sorry, just, can you repeat yourself? It sounds like you’re telling me that you and Seonghwa…” he trails off, flapping his hands in front of himself as if he can’t even bring himself to speak the words. “I thought I made myself quite clear about my feelings on this matter.”

For once, you wish that you could just appreciate a moment where you’re able to be the one throwing Hongjoong off of his guard. But, no, you have to keep spinning your bullshit, because, of course, only a lie can leave him so astounded.

“That’s really not what’s important here, Hongjoong, pleas—”

“Should I get Seonghwa? Do we need to have this conversation right now?”

He goes to stand and you’re immediately holding your hands out to him, ushering him to sit back down, “no, no, no. Hongjoong, this is not what is important right now.”

He looks at you like you’re insane, “Yes it is. You don’t need to know anything about Haneul.”

Haneul.

What a coincidence, no?

“Hongjoong, please, just, can we talk abou—”

He tries to stand again, but you do the unthinkable. You touch him first, grabbing onto his arm to pull him back to his chair. “There’s nothing to know about her. She was fake, she wasn’t real. You shouldn’t worry yourself about her. She was inconsequential, unworthy of taking up any space in your pretty little head.”

The way he speaks about her makes your stomach roll over. What in the fuck? She’s dead, and he’s talking about her like this? You shouldn’t be surprised, but it still makes you sick.

“But, Hongjoong, don’t you think it would help me understand my purpose, if you can explain why she couldn’t?”

The panicked look on his face evaporates as if he’s suddenly remembered something important. He looks into your eyes, a small smile starting to tug across his face, “you really want to know?”

The way he asks almost makes you want to take it back, to disagree with him. You just know that whatever it is that he just thought of is something that he’s going to use to scare you with, and the prospect isn’t too thrilling. But… any information is good information, right?

“I do, Hongjoong.”

He looks down at his hands, then, squeezing them together in his lap. You still have your hand on his arm, despite the level of uncomfort you’re experiencing, hoping that your touch is grounding him somehow.

When he looks back up, his smile is wider, his eyes more crazed, “there were a few reasons that Haneul couldn’t be the bearer. The first reason being her relationship with Jongho.”

What? Jongho? Is this why he has it out for you? Because Hongjoong replaced his girlfriend with you? Like, shit, he has every right to be pissed, but to be pissed with you is a bit… misplaced.

“The second reason being her attitude. As you read, the bearer of the Answer is to be hesitant and abrasive. She should deny her role before fully becoming it. Little Haneul was obedient from the moment she arrived.”

… You can’t fact check that one just yet, but yeah, sure, whatever. Hongjoong’s fucking insane. Any reason of his that comes from The Answer is not a legitimate reason for anything.

“And then, of course, I decided that I liked you more.”

You can’t stand it anymore. You let go of him, putting more distance between your bodies than you even do normally. Literally, genuinely, absolutely, what the fuck is wrong with this guy? What the fuck does he mean? How could he have possibly killed someone for you before even knowing you?

So you blink at him and ask, “how the fuck did you decide that before meeting me?”

“I don’t know why you keep insisting that we never met before you came here, (Y/n). Am I so memorable that you think you would remember even a fleeting interaction?”

“Yes.”

“I’m honored,” Hongjoong flashes a teasing smile, though there’s an impatience growing in his tone, “But I’ve known you far longer than you realize.”

The way he says this sends an actual chill down your spine, making you feel more vulnerable than just moments prior. “Can you at least tell me where we supposedly met? Or how long you’ve known me?”

“Are you sure it won’t scare you?” Hongjoong smirks, “I think it would. All you need to know, (Y/n), is that I am positive that you are the one. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, it is you.”

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

After that, Hongjoong had decided enough was enough and made you start your lesson. In your opinion, that whole conversation about The Answer should’ve been enough to cover your lesson, but that’s just not how your life goes.

But, for being such a good listener today, Hongjoong had given you a reward. The privilege of walking back to your apartment, unaccompanied. How lovely.

Of course, it would’ve been smartest to just go back to your apartment. You, in fact, definitely should’ve just done that.

But you have more questions. And, really, how likely is it that he’s going to find out that you made a little detour? He didn’t say go straight back or anything.

So you find yourself outside, approaching the big barns. It’s strange to be alone. But not in a bad way. You peer down the road as you pass it, staring down its infinite stretch of gravel and corn. Surely the harvest is coming. Surely.

You hadn’t brought a coat with you, but, thankfully, its rather nice outside. A bit chilly, in your long sleeve, but not unbearable. If anything, the chill makes you feel more grounded.

Maybe it’s a bad idea to try and talk to Jongho. No, scratch that, it’s definitely a bad idea to try and talk to Jongho. You’re full of them today. But, if there’s even the slightest chance that he can give you more information… you’re going to take it.

You’re finding that you have almost an insatiable curiosity growing within you with each passing day. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism. Maybe you’re losing it. Whatever it is, you simply have to know. Everything.

Plus, you’re a bit incensed that your plan to help Haseul escape failed so completely and utterly. You had been in such a good mood this morning, despite the tension you had been feeling. Now, you’re just angry. You hadn’t even been this angry when you, yourself, had failed to escape. This failure feels like a reflection of your efforts, and that pisses you off. Had you made a mistake, asking for San’s help? Is it possible that he… sabotaged the escape so as to save his own ass? Could you really blame him if he did? It was unfair, asking him what you did. But it was your only option at the time, and you know that.

Either way, you’re just upset that you failed. Haseul is still here, locked up in a room somewhere and you’re not even allowed to see her. She’s probably scared out of her mind, confused and angry. She must have been lured here using you, right? Someone used your phone to get her here. San claims that it wasn’t him… but who else would it have been? Any of the elites probably could have, but… who? Not Wooyoung, not after what he told you. Seonghwa? Maybe, but could he mimic you well enough to convince Haseul? That’s really the question, you realize. Who knows you well enough that they could’ve gotten your best friend to believe they were you?

There’s really only one option, and he had insisted that it wasn’t him.

God, this is pissing you off even more. You don’t want to believe that it was San. Like he’s said, you don’t want to think that he would willingly hurt you, especially not now, with how close you are. It would be… very unsettling, to say the least.

But, still, how had the escape failed? Who tipped Hongjoong off? Who was it that caught up to her? Had she ever even left in the first place? Was she hurt in the capture? Hongjoong had said that she was safe and sound… but, knowing that guy, that could mean any number of things.

It really makes you wonder. Who was in on it? Was it just a random follower that saw her and reported it? Was it an elaborate plan that ended just how Hongjoong wanted it to? Clearly, Hongjoong must have been expecting you to try something. Maybe you had played right into his plan, maybe it was a setup from the get go.

If it was, though, why the hell hadn’t you considered it? It pisses you off, truly, the hindsight. You were stupid, trying something so fast. It was stupid to involve San, and stupid to think that you would actually be able to pull off an escape. Fuck.

You emerge from your thoughts as you approach the barn, sticking your head in through the open door. “Jongho?” You call out, wondering if he would even respond to you if he heard you. You’d wager not, but you step further inside, anyhow.

Peering around the corner, you’re not surprised to see him heaving… something into the pig troughs. Looks like food scraps, kind of. He turns at the sound of your voice, a rather disrespectful look of disgust landing on his face once he realizes that it’s you he’s talking to.

“What.” It’s not a question, rather a statement. He doesn’t stop his work, grabbing another bucket to tip into the feeder. “Where’s your babysitter?”

Ignoring the actual question, you walk deeper inside, stopping when you’re a few feet from Jongho. The pigs squeak happily as he dumps the new bucket, nudging each other aside in an attempt to be the first to eat. You take a closer look at the trough, the slop making your stomach roll despite how pleased the pigs seem.

Pulling your eyes away from the scene, you start, “Can we talk?”

Jongho turns away from you, and for a second you’re sure that he’s going to up and leave. But, no, he simply grabs the last bucket that had been in the row, tipping it into a different trough in the pen. “About what?”

“Uhm,” is there a delicate enough way to put this? Are you supposed to be like, hey, sorry about your dead girlfriend? You probably should’ve put a little more thought into this before immediately storming off to talk to him, but, ugh! This is Hongjoong’s fault. Everything always is.

Jongho claps his hands together, dirt flying off of his gloves and into the air. He tugs them off, deliberately pulling at each finger before taking them all the way off, shoving them into a back pocket of his dirtied cargo pants. He sighs, folding his arms over his chest, “You’re wasting my time.”

Swallowing, you squeeze your hands in front of you, trying to keep yourself steady, “About, uhm, ah,” you clear your throat, but her name still comes out rather meekly, “Haneul?”

He blinks. Once. Twice. And then he’s on you.

He’s able to close the distance you had left between you in seconds, his hands clamping onto your upper arms so hard that you yelp. He doesn’t seem to notice, shaking you as more emotion crosses his face in these few seconds than you’ve seen him display the entire time you’ve known him.

“Listen very carefully, (Y/n),” he tugs you closer, his hands squeezing tighter, “I’m only going to say this once. If I ever hear her name leave your lips again, I’ll kill you. It’ll be so fast that you won’t even realize you’re dead until you’re squalling as you emerge into your next life. Do you understand?” Jongho’s voice rattles with so much emotion that you have no choice but to believe his threat, nodding your head quickly in response.

His grip loosens, but he doesn’t fully let you go, “Whatever you wanted to say, keep it to yourself. Don’t think about her, don’t ask other people about her, go back to pretending as if she never existed.”

“I was just going to—”

“To? To what?”

“To apologize.” You glare up at him, cutting him off before he can start bitching again, “For what happened. Hongjoong is insane. And I’m sorry that someone you cared about was hurt because of him.”

Jongho scoffs, staring down at you like you just said the most loathsome sentence he’s ever heard (really, he’s just thinking about last night) (how badly he wants to tell you your friend is dead, her body rotting two feet away from where you stand) (how she cried out for you, screamed your name when he grabbed her, capturing her last breath) (how, in his eyes, you deserve a worse punishment than that).

“I don’t want your pity,” he whispers, his voice still hard, “Get out of here before I tell Hongjoong you’re running around by yourself.”

He pushes you away from him, sending you stumbling backwards. Your arms pulsate where he had been squeezing you, your arteries working to compensate for the restriction they had been under.

So much for mending that relationship. Or getting any answers. You probably should’ve anticipated the hostility, but… you are a bit of an optimist. Most of the time.

You spare one more glance toward the pigs, watching as they continue to devour the scraps. The noises they make alone are enough to make your stomach churn once more, this time with nausea rather than anger or guilt.

Jongho waits for you to get back to the doors before taking his eyes off of you, needing to know that you’re out of his space before he can relax again.

Only, right as you step out of the threshold of the barn, you run into a tall frame that you really had not been expecting.

You look up, already knowing that it will be Mingi’s face staring down at you.

He doesn’t give you the chance to slip away, latching a hand onto your wrist to pull you back into the barn you had just left. You’re once again stumbling as he leads you back inside, immediately turning a corner into a more secluded part of the barn.

“What is happening between you and San?”

Oh. So that’s where this is going. For a second there, you had the tiniest scrap of hope that you would be able to have a genuine conversation with him. That, maybe, he would want to apologize to you for, you don’t know, ignoring you for weeks after basically blaming you for not being a mind reader.

You might be less annoyed if you hadn’t just had this exact conversation with Hongjoong. But to be reminded of the topic so soon has your blood running hot, anger flaring in your chest once more. To defend yourself from Hongjoong is one thing, but Mingi.

You’ll never get used to it.

“Really? That’s the first thing you have to say to me after, what, weeks of not speaking?” You scoff, trying to tug your wrist out of his hold to no avail.

Mingi rolls his eyes. “Just answer the question.”

“What’s going on between you and Hongjoong?” You ask, looking up at him and hoping you don’t look as small as you feel. “I thought you were scared of him, and now what? You’re doing his dirty work? Detaining our friend?”

“Haseul is gone. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mingi blinks, his jaw set hard. “Hongjoong is my leader, my guide. He’s my friend, (Y/n). What are you and San? Friends?” He spits this final word, leaning down toward your face.

Had you not been so angry, you might’ve caught the first part. But you want to actually spit on him. How could he think that this is an okay way to talk to you? “I’m not answering that question, Mingi. You don’t get to, to question my relationships with people!”

Mingi smiles a horrible smile. One that you have never seen. It’s almost a sneer. “You were my friend before his, you remember?”

You yank on your hand again, finally succeeding in getting it free of his grasp. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You stumble backwards, tripping over some loose hay on the floor. “Mingi, please, this isn’t—”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” Mingi steps toward you. “If anything, there’s something wrong with you, (Y/n).”

You shake your head, continuing to back away from him. You’ve never seen Mingi like this. You’ve never known him to act like this. This simply isn’t him. It doesn’t make any sense, you have no idea where this is coming from or why he decided now was the time to reignite the feud between you two.

“You used to tell me all of your guy problems, remember?” He pouts, reaching a hand out to you. “It can be like old times, (Y/n). Just tell me the truth.” His voice has gone noticeably softer, his tone less serious. You don’t know if he’s manipulating you or not.

Your back finally hits a wall, the uninsulated metal of the barn freezing cold on your skin. It seeps through your shirt, chilling you to the bone. “Mingi, please listen to me,” you put a hand out, trying to get him to stop advancing on you. “You’re scaring me. You are scaring the shit out of me. Back off, now.”

Mingi chuckles, stopping in place. He holds his hands up in front of himself, showing off his stop. “I’m sorry, sorry,” he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “But… Do you think I would hurt you? Really?”

You want the answer to be no. Desperately. This is fucking Mingi that you’re talking about. You don’t get a chance to respond.

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes, “you clearly don’t give a shit about us anymore, anyways. Otherwise, you’d just fucking tell me the truth.”

You stay pressed flat against the wall behind you, shaking your head at him. How did this happen? How could this happen? Your best friend, the person you came here for, is accusing you of not caring about him, not caring about your relationship. How blind could he be?

It’s not Mingi talking, you know that. It’s fucking Hongjoong. Hongjoong feeding him bullshit in an attempt to get him to turn on you. And, lucky for him, its working. Perfectly. Your words can’t stand on their own against Hongjoong’s anymore. And he knows that.

“Do you really want to know, Mingi?” Your voice cracks when you say his name, tears springing into your eyes, “What would it accomplish? Please, tell me why you want to know, and I’ll tell you the truth.”

He hesitates at that, looking up toward the ceiling of the barn.

“Exactly. You don’t want to know,” you shake your head at him, watching as he kicks at some loose hay by his feet. “Can’t you see what’s happening here?”

Mingi looks back down, frowning.

“He’s doing this on purpose, Mingi. Hongjoong wants us to hate each other. He wants to take away any semblance of support that we have. He’s trying to tear us apart, and you’re letting him!”

He squints as if he’s confused, looking down at his feet, then. He kicks around some loose hay, not responding. You take the moment to gather yourself, trying to calm your heart. Mingi has never acted so hostile toward you before, you can hardly even believe that this is the same man.

“I just,” he starts, not looking toward you, “I don’t see why he would do that.”

You close your eyes, trying to not scream. Has Mingi always been so naive?

No, he hasn’t. This is Hongjoong at work. Gaslighting him into questioning every action taken toward him. Making him confused and hurting him and turning him against you. It honestly makes you want to scream in frustration, the mind games that Hongjoong plays with people.

How could he do this? To innocent people? Play with their minds, turn them into dependent mush? It’s clear that Hongjoong is a monster, a psychopath, someone that gets off on the way that he can manipulate and control people. But seeing it so clearly… in someone you once considered your best friend…

It makes you hate him more, a thousand times so. You would kill him if you could.

If— no, when— you get Mingi out of here, will he ever be the same? Will he ever go back to being the Mingi that you once knew? Or will Hongjoong be with him for the rest of his life, manipulating and twisting his thoughts into everything that they’re not?

Could any amount of therapy turn back time? Any amount of counseling? Medication?

The sinking feeling in your chest tells you that, no, things will never be the same.

For the rest of his life, Mingi will have a piece of Hongjoong embedded into his personality. And you’ll have to live with that fact.

When you get out of here, when Hongjoong is in prison or dead or whatever, when he’s out of your life… he won’t be.

Is that fair? Abusers stick with their victims for their entire lives, but the opposite is rarely ever true. Would Hongjoong spare Mingi a second thought in thirty years, when he’s rotting in a jail cell? You doubt it. But Mingi… there won’t be a day of his life where he doesn’t think about what happened here. About what he suffered.

“Did I,” he looks up at you after the prolonged silence, “did I really scare you?”

You blink at him, not wanting to tell him the truth.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, (Y/n).” His voice cracks when he says your name, turning away from you. “Everything is my fault. All of it. You’re here, and now Haseul, and, and,” with each word, his voice gets heavier with emotion. You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s crying. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. For bringing you here, for yelling, for being mad, for scaring you, for everything.”

You push yourself off of the wall, taking a couple steps to reach out to him. You grab his bicep, gently pulling him to face you. You’re not very successful, only managing to turn him a few centimeters. He still doesn’t look at you.

“You know that I don’t blame you for any of this, Mingi,” the complete opposite is true, in fact. “None of it is your fault.”

“But it—” Mingi freezes in the middle of his sentence, and you have to peer around him to figure out why.

San clears his throat when you meet his gaze, awkwardly averting his eyes to the ground.

Mingi turns back toward you, then, aggressively wiping his cheeks with his palm, as if ashamed for San to see him so.

“(Y/n), I’ve,” San looks up, biting his lip, “been looking for you everywhere.”

You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything. You probably shouldn’t have run off without permission, but you had to take the chance. Still, there is a bit of guilt swimming in you for apparently making San worry. You hadn’t considered…

Mingi’s tears have dried up by the time he turns back toward the other man, “Leave.”

Your eyes widen with this command, squeezing Mingi’s arm a bit in response. He can’t just… tell San to leave, can he?

San looks as taken aback as you feel, confusion evident on his face, “Excuse me?”

“I think you heard me the first time.”

“Mingi, pleas—”

San cuts you off, “No, no, let him speak.” He holds his hand up to silence you, something that you would never have ever expected him to do to you, “Do you have something you need to say to me, Mingi?”

“No, he doesn’t. Right, Mingi?” You answer for him, squeezing his arm again in an attempt to keep him grounded. Whatever the fuck San thinks he’s doing right now, you’re not appreciating it. Especially not when Mingi just about yelled at you because of San. There are definitely some choice words that these two could share, but you don’t want to be privy to them.

Mingi ignores you, a tense smile on his face, “I have a lot of things I could say to you, San. Do you want to start with the way that you’re manipulating (Y/n), or your involvement in what happened yesterday?”

Now, before this moment, you wouldn’t have said that San is a person inclined to violence. But within seconds he’s ripping Mingi out of your grasp via the front of his shirt, tugging him toward him until their chests are almost touching. “I’m doing no such thing,” the words come out in more of a snarl than anything else, “and I have no idea what you mean by ‘my involvement,’ but I’ll go ahead and tell you to shut your mouth about it, anyways.”

“San!” Your hands are back on both of them before he even finishes his sentence, one on each man. “What the fuck is wro—”

Mingi smirks down at San, once again completely ignoring you, even cutting you off. “Is that so? Why is she so quick to defend your relationship? Why is she keeping secrets from me? How could she possibly like you when you’re the one that lured her here?”

San’s eye literally twitches. “I know you’re in love with her, but this is just pathetic. Aren’t you embarrassed? To be the outsider, here? To know that she never fell for you, but for me despite the mistakes that I’ve made? Despite the ways I’ve wronged her? Does that just crush you? So much so that you have to make up blind accusations against me in an attempt to turn her away?”

Mingi shakes his arm out of your grasp in the next second, using both of his hands to shove San away from him. San actually falls, landing on his ass in front of Mingi.

You gasp as Mingi starts yelling, “You don’t know anything about our relationship! Anything that you do know you found out from stalking us! I couldn’t give two shits about her being into you, I care about you hurting her and acting innocent about it!”

San frowns, and you’re surprised to see his lip quivering. He turns his attention to you, “You know that’s not true, (Y/n). You know that I care about you, that I’d never hurt you.”

Mingi scoffs, smiling up toward the ceiling of the barn. “You say that you’re not manipulating her, but what’s this? Some crocodile tears and you think she’ll fawn right over you?” He looks down at you, still standing shocked by his side. “You’re not falling for this, are you?”

You look back and forth between San on the ground and Mingi beside you. In all honesty, you’re pissed at both of them equally. This fucking behavior is just childish; the last thing that you need is two people that you care about making you choose sides.

“(Y/n)?” San’s voice breaks from the floor when you stay quiet.

“I am not taking sides right now,” you whisper, glaring between the two of them. “You’re both being brats. Have either of you considered that I might value both of you? Or that I am an adult who can make her own decisions?”

They stay silent, San finally picking himself up off of the ground.

“You’re both pissing me off equally. I’d appreciate it if you could find it in yourselves to grow up and stop fighting over someone that doesn’t need or want to be fought over.”

They at least have the decency to look a little ashamed of themselves, both of them looking anywhere but at you or each other.

“Mingi,” he turns when you say his name, looking hopeful despite what you just said, “I would be happy to hear your genuine concerns about my wellbeing; however, I don’t want the hostility that you’ve shown me today. When you’re calmer, we can talk.”

Mingi nods his head, “I’m sorry, again.”

You reach out to touch his arm again, providing what you hope is enough comfort. Even though you’re pissed, Mingi was still in the middle of being vulnerable with you. You’re sorry that you weren’t able to finish that conversation with him.

Dropping your hand, you take a couple steps to be closer to San, though you fold your arms over your chest as you tip your head toward the entrance of the barn, “Let’s go.”

You don’t wait for him, opting to just start walking. He catches up quickly enough, though keeping a good two steps behind you.

There is literally nothing that you can think to say to him. Your thoughts run wild with what just happened.

First, Mingi acting like that toward you? What the fuck was that? Did Hongjoong put him up to it, like you suggested he might’ve? Mingi had never treated you like that before, never… scared you like that before. There’s no way that was… all him. You refuse to believe it.

Having him stand up for you… that’s a whole separate thing. Obviously, Mingi has used his size to intimidate freaks that were bothering you before. He’s stood up for you more times than you can count, letting you use him as a defense mechanism for your entire friendship. He had put his hands on people for you before… but those were complete strangers. Seeing him get physical with San is a different story, not something that you would’ve expected from him. Even if he does genuinely believe that San is manipulating you or whatever, you would’ve thought that he would’ve at least stayed civil, considering your relationship.

So it’s a surprise that he responded in turn when San engaged. Which in and of itself was shocking to you.

San is not someone that you would ever peg for physical violence. So seeing him get on Mingi like that… it honestly does freak you out a bit. If San could hide his capacity for that from you, what else could he be capable of without you knowing?

Clearly, he’s an important member of the cult. He’s important to Hongjoong (arguably, considering he apparently wants him dead) and has a rather… disturbing position. San is clearly able to do a lot of things you would consider morally reprehensible with ease… as little as you enjoy that.

But, seriously, physical violence? That’s so different from what you’ve seen from him in the past.

And, thinking back to what was said… what did Mingi mean about San’s involvement yesterday? He can’t blame San for helping you, can he? For helping Haseul? That’s a good thing that San did, even, if, ultimately, it failed. Haseul may still be locked up in a room, but that’s better than her being dead. It’s better than knowing that you did nothing to try and save her. Mingi must see that, too, right? Unless he genuinely thinks that it is a good thing for another one of your friends to be locked up here, which, you suppose, is a possibility.

And, Christ, the way San was speaking to Mingi? You’ve never heard such, such awful things from him. There was malice in everything that he said, like he knew just the right things to say to push Mingi’s buttons. Using his feelings for you was low, and calling him pathetic… God, it’s just so weird to hear your San say things like that. Everyone has a mean side to them, a defensive one, but seeing San’s is just so shocking.

He’s so vulnerable with you, so gentle and so kind. To know that he has the exact opposite persona lurking inside of him as well…

It’s not exactly comforting.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

When you reach your apartment, you move to head toward the bedroom right away, but San catches you before you can get far, his hand gently grabbing your wrist. “Can I apologize? Or, or explain? Please?”

You pause, letting him keep his hand on you. As petty as you feel, and as much as you’d like to just ignore him until he learns his lesson… that’s not how adults do things. Especially not adults that live together.

Sighing, you turn back towards him, nodding slowly.

He also sighs, though in relief, gently guiding you toward the couch. You both sit down, and San takes his hand away from you rather than keeping a hold.

You wait for him to start, given that he’s the one that wants to explain.

It takes a few minutes, but he finally does. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry, that’s what this boils down to.”

You blink, waiting for more.

“There isn’t an excuse for, for what I did. I shouldn’t have touched him, but, (Y/n), the way he was speaking to you? Talking about us? Accusing me of terrible, horrible things? I couldn’t just take that. I can forget my own pride, but I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

Yeah, you’re sure that pride has absolutely nothing to do with this.

“Say something, please?” His eyes sparkle, and you can’t believe that he’s about to be the third man to cry in front of you today.

You would, but you honestly have no idea what to say. What is there to say when your cult-sponsored fake-boyfriend gets into a physical fight with your lost best friend who also happens to be in love with you? Like, that’s not really something that happens very often.

“I guess I can understand where you’re coming from,” is what you settle on, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back into the couch, “but I still think you acted completely inappropriately, San. When someone is accusing you of being a bad person, its pretty bold to go ahead and prove them right while trying to prove them wrong.”

San looks down at his hands, his voice cracking, “you think I’m a bad person?”

Deep breaths, (Y/n). Deep breaths.

“That’s not what I meant, San.”

He starts shaking, and oh, God, you’ve done it now. You do feel bad as he starts whimpering, his hands coming up to shield his face from you.

“But I am, (Y/n), I am a bad person,” he sobs, “Mingi was right, you’re right, you shouldn’t like me. I’m the reason you’re here, and I’m the reason you’re going through all of this, and I did stalk you guys, and last night and, and—”

Your heart does, perhaps, shatter a little bit upon hearing this. You had wanted to stay strong (angry), but how can you do that when San is weeping in front of you like this?

Reaching out to him, you wrap an arm around his shoulders to pull him into you. He rests his face in the crook of your neck, quickly folding his arms around you and squeezing you tight to him.

“San, I’m not angry with you for what you did before you met me, you have to know that.” You curl a hand into his hair, playing with the longer strands at the back of his neck. “And what happened last night— it really isn’t your fault.”

“You really don’t blame me? For any of it?” He whines, and you can envision the pout on his face without needing to see it. "You're too good to me, I don’t deserve your kindness.”

He might have you with that one, honestly. But you're not going to agree with him, not when he's like this. Maybe if you were a little bit more pissed off.

Instead, you try to keep comforting him, "I'm the one that doesn't deserve you, San. The things you've done for me since we've gotten to know each other… I can never thank you enough." He sighs as you continue running your fingers through his hair. "Even if you've done wrong, that doesn't make you a bad person. Everyone makes mistakes; it's what we do in the present that matters."

A few minutes go by in silence, but you don't mind. San calms himself down, though you're sure that you're helping, too. He doesn't move from his spot in your arms, though, keeping his own firmly around you as well.

"I should apologize to Mingi, shouldn't I?"

You chuckle, thinking it over. "Probably. But not when I'm there.”

“Probably not,” he mumbles into your neck, pressing a kiss where his lips happen to land.

.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.

San is positively delighted that you suggested he apologize to Mingi without you present.

A conversation between the two of them is long overdue, and he doesn’t need you to know everything that he has to say to Mingi.

So, he takes his opportunity during dinner, leaving you with Seonghwa (no matter how wide your eyes get or how betrayed you look) to go off and find Mingi.

He’s still opting to take his meals in his room, which San finds very convenient. It’s possible that Yunho will be there when he arrives, which would make things a little bit more complicated, but he’s still resolved to have this conversation.

San knocks on Mingi’s door, and, when he opens it, his shock is evident on his face, “can I help you?”

San nods, peeking past him into his room, “are you alone? Can I keep you company?”

Mingi blinks down at him, scoffing. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

He shrugs, “a bit.” San shoves past Mingi to get into his room, not even flinching when Mingi slams the door shut behind himself. “Do me a favor and tell (Y/n) I apologized to you.”

Mingi crosses his arms over his chest, “why the hell would I lie for you?”

“I’m sorry.” San smiles, “there, not a lie.”

“San, just tell me why you’re really here so that I can go back to eating my soup in peace.” Mingi points at the still steaming bowl of soup sitting on his desk. Ugh, San is so glad that he doesn’t live in one of these tiny rooms anymore. He’d go crazy.

San clenches his jaw, giving Mingi a once over. He hadn’t planned exactly what he was going to say, which probably would’ve made this a lot easier. But maybe it’ll be more fun like this.

“I just want to make sure that you’re not going to keep trying to give (Y/n) the wrong idea about me.”

Mingi scoffs, “if anything, I’m giving her the right idea about you. You really are a manipulative bastard, you know that, right?”

He shrugs his shoulders in response, “you’re free to think that way. But it’s not the truth. I genuinely care about her, you know.”

Mingi rolls his eyes, a single laugh leaving him, “well I feel the same way. And I’m not going to let you hurt her.”

“Why would I want to hurt her, Mingi? What could I possibly gain from that?”

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, San.” Mingi uncrosses his arms, clenching his fists at his sides, “but I don’t want you dragging her into it.”

San laughs, gesturing around Mingi’s room, “she’s already in it! You made sure of that, might I remind you?”

Mingi looks perplexed, “excuse me? You are the one that brought her here, not me.”

“You don’t feel bad? That she came looking for you?”

“As if Hongjoong wouldn’t have found a way for you to get her, anyways.” Mingi frowns, “I’m not stupid. I know that she was the one he was after when he Chose me, that I was the bait for her. She was always going to end up here.”

San tilts his head, “wow, maybe you are smarter than you look.”

Before Mingi can get another word in, though, San is starting again. “Since you’re so smart, Mingi, I should only have to say this once. Leave (Y/n) alone, especially when it comes to the matter of my relationship with her. Truly, it’s none of your business, and it makes her upset to have to choose between the two of us.”

Mingi stares blankly back at San.

“And another thing, about Haseul— you should know to not bring that situation up in front of her. I’ll let it go this time, but if I hear about it again, I’ll report it to Hongjoong.”

He scoffs, “scared that she’ll find out what you did?”

“I didn’t do anything to Haseul,” San shrugs again, “you’re the one that handed her over to me, anyways. Don’t you think that you’re in the same position as me?”

“I wouldn’t have given her to you if Hongjoong hadn’t told me to,”

“And I wouldn’t have taken her if he hadn’t told me the same.” San smiles sarcastically, “it seems we’re in agreement, then.”

Mingi would beg to differ, but he’s really not in the mood for another argument. And his soup is getting cold. “I won’t mention Haseul to her again, and I’ll try to believe that you genuinely care for her. But I won’t trust you implicitly. And, if she ever comes to me, crying because of you, I will kill you.”

San sticks his hand out, “promise?”

Mingi takes it, shaking his hand, “promise.”

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#ateez angst #ateez series #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #park seonghwa x reader #jeong yunho x reader #kang yeosang x reader #choi san x reader #song mingi x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #choi jongho x reader #the answer #update

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